#i couldn't tell if the pastor preaching it kept looking at me when he was talking about queer ppl too | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

babybluebex · 2 years

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𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞 | 𝐣𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: series masterlist | a new preacher comes to your town, and you’re overwhelmed by him. you try to keep away from father james, but, the more you see him and the more he kisses your hand, the more you realize that staying away won’t be so easy. 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: jamie bower x fem!reader (rpf) 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 7k 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: rpf (real person fiction), smut MINORS DNI, p in v sex, unprotected sex, loss of virginity, heavy breeding kink (the last line of the song is literally "i'm coming inside" are u kidding me), preacher kink, praise kink, religious themes, age gap (reader is early 20s, jamie is 34), jamie has a huge god complex omg 𝐀/𝐍: i’ve been working on this on again and off again since the music video came out in august, so take it before it drives me more insane than it already has lol

All morning, you could have sworn the preacher was looking at you.

It was a hot summer Sunday morning, one where you wore your nicest dress, just as your mother had told you to. You had forgotten how hot it got at home; after being at college for the past few years, you had gotten acclimated to the big city, and you couldn't remember what home was like.

To be honest, you had been dreading church. You had lied to your parents when you told them that you had kept up the habit while at college, and you despised the thought of wasting a good Sunday morning, even though you were on vacation. No matter what, you had gotten up and gotten dressed, and you were tailing behind your parents as they led the charge into the church.

The building itself was miniscule, surrounded by the desert on all sides, set apart from the rest of town. Your hometown was small, so small that people usually only lumped it in with the nearby biggest city and didn’t know that your town even existed on its own. But it did, and, in a town like that, everybody knew everybody else’s business.

Which made the preacher all that more confusing to you.

You could vaguely remember your mother telling you about the appearance of a new preacher at your church after the former pastor retired. It had been months ago, and you only remembered the name she had told you: James Bower. There were other details as well, something about him being young and British, but you didn’t really listen too closely to that phone call with your mother. She had been going on and on about church and you tended to tune that out.

“Mom,” you said quickly as you approached the church, seeing the door hanging open, welcoming everyone inside. Standing at the open door was a man, dressed in a black suit with a white shirt, a black hat covering his head and shading his face. He was older than you, but also younger than your parents, and he was shaking hands with every man that walked in front of him and setting kisses on the ladies’ cheeks. “Who is that?”

“Oh, that’s Father James,” your mother told you, sucking at the back of her teeth for a moment. “I told you about him, he replaced Father Nicholas.”

“Yeah, I remember you telling me,” you said softly. “He’s just… Younger than I thought.” And, by the flashes of a sharp jawline and deadly eyes that you could see as you approached, he was far more attractive than you would have taken a man like him for.

“He’s good,” your mother said carefully, as if she was controlling her tongue. “Cares about what he preaches about, really believes it.”

“That’s good,” you mumbled.

Finally, it was your turn to be greeted by the preacher, and you were struck uncharacteristically silent by him. His voice, a deep baritone timbre, got under your skin as he greeted your mother with a kiss, and he gave your father a firm handshake. “And who do we have here?” Father James Bower asked, his steel-blue eyes cutting you with his gaze.

You could tell instantly: this man would be trouble. “This is our daughter,” your mother said. “Visiting from college.”

“Ah, yes,” Father James said, his lips stretching into a smile. He took your hand in his, his skin rough and dry but lovely to feel, and he pressed his lips to your fingers, greeting you with an old-fashioned kiss. “Your mother told me stories about you.”

“Good stories, I hope?” you chuckled lightly, and Father James’ smile stayed as he dropped your hand.

“Only the best,” he told you.

“I’ve heard about you too, Father James,” you said, and you watched something flicker in his eyes, a quiet kind of recognition, although what he was recognizing, you had no idea.

“Good things?” he teased, and you smiled coyly at him. Two could play that game.

“Oh, no, awful things,” you said, and your mother laughed. “Just the worst.”

“I guess I’ll have to redeem myself,” Father James said. “I think Marjorie saved you lot a seat in the front; what a dear.” Your mother and father surged ahead, finding the seats that Father James indicated, but a quick and tight grip to your wrist kept you in place.

Father James held you back, his thumb smoothing nicely down your wrist, and he lifted your hand back to his mouth, kissing your fingers again. “And that’ll be Jamie to you, love,” he said softly, barely loud enough for you to hear. “You can drop that James business.”

“If you say so, Father” you said softly.

“Don’t call me that, either,” he said. “Just Jamie.”

“Jamie,” you said and you sighed out a deep breath. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

The service was odd. By all accounts, it was a perfectly good service, normal by all means, but something about the young and handsome Father James (or Jamie, as he told you) leading the sermon was different in a way that you couldn’t tell if you liked or not. Your mother was right— he obviously cared about what he preached, that morning’s work set on the sin of temptation, and he raised his voice and delivered his sermon with an expert hand.

But he was looking at you the whole time. He was borderline staring at you, and you shifted in your seat, wondering what was the matter. Of course, you could think the obvious— that he was thinking of you as he preached on temptation, you, the pretty young thing that had walked through his doors— but it felt wrong to even consider that Jamie would stoop that low. He was a man of God, no matter how unconventional he looked with his rings and gold bracelets and the tattoos on his middle fingers.

You got to speak with him further after the service, while everyone was leaving the house of God. You stepped outside with a shiver, despite the sticky heat, and your mother grabbed your hand as she told you that she was going to bring the car around. “Maybe you should go to talk to James,” she said. “He always looks so lonely, and it seems like he likes you.”

“Likes me?” you echoed.

“He didn’t kiss my hand twice,” your mother said with a shrug. “He didn’t ask me to call him Jamie.” You followed your mother’s gaze to just on the other side of the small wooden bridge, to a little garden, where Jamie stood, looking out of place in his all-black attire, looking down at the ground as his hand rubbed his chin.

“Are you encouraging me to find romance with your preacher?” you asked with a smile, and your mother rolled her eyes.

“Maybe not romance,” she said. “You’re too young for that. But friendship, definitely.”

You weren’t too young for that, you knew it, but you understood what she meant. Don’t fall in love with the preacher. That should be easy. You approached him quietly, not wanting to startle him if he was lost in thought, but he turned those devilish steel-blue eyes to you in an instant. “You,” he said lightly, dropping his hand.

“Me,” you shrugged. “I, umm, really liked your sermon.”

“Thank you, love,” Jamie said. A moment passed where he watched you, and he suddenly said, “You’re lying to your parents.”

“Excuse me?” you asked. “What do you mean—”

“You don’t go to church when you’re at university,” Jamie said quickly. “I can tell, you looked completely lost the whole time.”

“Is it that obvious?” you mumbled, wrapping your arms around yourself, and, when Jamie nodded, you muttered, “Fuck!”

“How long are you in town?” Jamie asked. His hands drifted to his pants, digging into his pocket, and he extracted a lean carton of cigarettes, along with a lighter. He was quick to push a cigarette in-between his lips, and you watched as he lit it up.

“Oh!” you said quickly. You were staring, just like he was. “Umm, just until Friday.”

“One more week,” Jamie laughed, blowing the smoke from his mouth. “I bet you can’t wait to go back to your friends and your little sinful ways, can you?”

“What makes you think I live in sin?” you asked. The exchange felt playful, not necessarily too mean-spirited, and Jamie grinned around his cigarette.

“I know girls like you,” he said. “You wear your little dresses and sing your little hymns, but it’s all a disguise to cover up the way you really live. I bet you’ve even kissed a boy, haven’t you?” He put on a shocked look, like he was truly disappointed, and it made you laugh.

“You’ve got me figured out,” you chuckled. Then, a boldness washed over you, and you couldn’t control the way you added, “And I’ve done a lot more than kiss a few boys.”

Jamie raised his dark eyebrows at you, plucking his cigarette from between his lips. “You have?” he asked. “Anything you need to repent for? I am a preacher, after all, I can help.”

“No, nothing like that. I just…” You shrugged, and mumbled, “Okay. You’ve got me. I haven’t done anything like that.”

“Why did you say you did?” Jamie asked, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

“I don’t know,” you mumbled. “To make you like me, I guess. Guys like girls who know about that stuff, right?”

“Oh, little lamb,” Jamie cooed softly. “I used to run around with some bad guys when I was your age, I’ve got the marks to prove it, and I had my fill of girls who were trying to impress me. I like you more, knowing that you’re a good girl who hasn’t done anything of that sort.” He smoked for a moment, blowing it at the ground, and he added, “You should be going.”

“Why?” you asked. “Have I done something wrong?”

“No, you didn’t,” Jamie said. “But I might.”

“What do you mean?” you asked.

“I really want to kiss you,” Jamie told you, and your heart slammed against your ribcage at his confession.

“Is that…” you began. “Is that allowed?”

“Allowed, yes,” Jamie said slowly, as if choosing his words carefully. “But, frowned upon? Very much so.”

“Why?” you asked. “Is it me?”

“No, darling, it’s not you,” Jamie said. “I’m a man of God. I can’t just kiss any girl, I need to have intentions about it, and my intentions… My thoughts about you… Are less than worthy of a man like myself.”

Lightning rocked your belly, and you took a step backwards. “Oh,” you said. “I understand. Umm… Yeah, it’ll be good if I leave.” Jamie nodded silently in agreement, finishing up his cigarette, and you mumbled, “Will I see you on Wednesday? At night service? I bet my parents will make me go.”

“Yes, you will,” Jamie replied. He hesitated for a moment, his mouth open, obviously wanting to say something, and he finally added, “Wear something white.”

“Why?”

Jamie looked at you with those paralyzing blue eyes, and he said, “You’re as beautiful as an angel. You should dress like one.”

You hardly got any sleep that night. Between bouts of nightmares— nothing you could remember but left you with a nasty feeling when you woke up hyperventilating— you were plagued by the idea of Jamie.

Every time you closed your eyes, you could only see him. His blond hair, his blue eyes, his plush lips, that smile that bordered goodness and badness. As you laid awake in your small bed, the tiny one you had grown up in, you wondered what he was doing. Was he asleep, as you too should be? Maybe he was up, working on a sermon. A selfish part of you allowed yourself to think that, perhaps, he was awake, thinking of you.

That idea made your thighs tingle. You knew how terrible it was to think of your preacher like that, but he had said it himself. His intentions with you weren’t worthy of a man of God. Jamie had basically confessed to wanting to kiss you and maybe even more, and you hadn’t been brave enough to challenge him on it. You regretted your timidness, and you buried your head under your pillow as you tried to get any sleep at all.

This routine continued for days. Nightmares, then Jamie. Jamie, then more nightmares. You didn’t see him during the day, so you were left with only the memory of your two tiny interactions. You could remember the way his blond hair had swayed in the wind as he smoked, the faint hint of his cologne carrying on the air as he kissed your hand; you couldn’t escape him. You knew that, the next time you saw him, you had to tell him.

Thankfully, you didn’t have to wait long to see Jamie. Wednesday night came around quickly, and you tore apart your closet looking for the little white sundress that you knew you still had from when you were in high school. You’re as beautiful as an angel, his accent rang in your head as you tugged the dress over your head, and you sighed at yourself in the mirror. The irony wasn’t lost on you— dressing like an angel, yet still tempting the preacher. You wondered what he would do when he saw you; would he try to kiss you again? Maybe he wouldn’t do anything, and he would keep up the game of cat and mouse that you had. Honestly, you liked it. Being wanted was nice, but there was something fun about being desired and not being allowed to act on those desires. It made everything sweeter.

Your parents didn’t say anything as you exited your room, grabbing a thin sweater just in case it was cold in the sanctuary (it never was, but your mother urged you to come prepared). The car ride was quiet, and your hands shook as your father parked in the small lot, steadying yourself for meeting Jamie.

He stood at the door to the church again, greeting everyone as they came in. He wore a dark wide-brimmed hat, his usual suit, the shirt buttons done all the way up to his slender throat. He looked cool and smooth, and he grinned like a cat when he saw you. You had never felt more like a mouse in your life, and you gratefully took his hand into yours.

“My, oh my,” Jamie said, his eyes scanning your frame. You should have felt uncomfortable under his gaze, but you didn’t, despite the obviously hungry look in his light eyes. Even if he hadn't told you about his intentions, it wouldn't be hard to figure out why he was looking at you. “Who is this vision in white I see before me?”

Your face went warm, and you managed to mutter out, “Thank you, Father.” Jamie did his usual kisses to your fingers, which only served to make your face go even hotter. You felt like everyone was looking at you but somehow, Jamie’s soft eyes soothed you. It seemed like nothing bad could happen so long as you were in Jamie's arms. Knowing this, you tugged him close by his hand and pressed a gentle kiss to his smooth cheek, and you heard him draw in a quick breath at your meager affection.

“Thank you, little lamb,” Jamie told you. His cheeks tinged just a shade of pink, not even enough to really call it a blush— if you didn’t know any better, you would have attributed it to the heat and dry air. “I’d like to speak to you after the service, if that’s possible.”

“Of course,” you told him. “Am I in trouble?”

“Oh, no,” Jamie said. “Quite the opposite. I’d like to discuss our relationship; or where I’d like it to go, that is.”

You swallowed thickly, nervously, and you said, “Alright. I’ll see you then.”

Like on Sunday, Jamie’s sermon was beautiful. He spoke with power and grace, and you could hardly believe it when the end of it came. You could watch him speak for hours and never get bored of it. You stayed sitting in the pew as your parents stood, and your mother furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. “Are you alright?” she asked, and you picked at the bottom of your dress.

“Yeah,” you replied. “I’m alright. Jamie just said he wanted to talk to me after the sermon.”

“Oh,” your mother said. “What about?”

“I’m not sure,” you lied. “I think he might try to ask me on a date.”

Your mother ground her back teeth; you could see her annoyance. “Make good decisions with him,” she said. “Don’t let him be let astray.”

“I won’t, Mom,” you told her, your stomach twisting. You knew that you absolutely were leading him astray, but maybe he had a good plan on how to keep your relationship pure. Based on the way he was talking to you on Sunday, though, there was no way you could stay pure with him. “Jamie is good, I won’t do anything bad to him.”

Jamie stood at his altar as everyone slowly filed out, making kind conversation with the people who approached him, and you watched him as you chewed on your bottom lip. He looked so good, and you crossed your legs as you waited. Finally, the last person left, the heavy wooden doors banging closed behind them, and Jamie turned his gaze towards you.

Silently, he stepped away from the altar and towards you, the heavy heels of his boots clicking against the creaky wood floors. “You look beautiful,” Jamie told you as he sat down next to you, pulling off his hat and ruffling up his blond hair.

You nodded anxiously. “You do too,” you told him. “Very handsome.”

“Thank you, little lamb,” Jamie said. “Now, I wanted to speak to you about… Us. I think it’s obvious that I can’t go on being polite and nice with you.”

“Is it?” you asked. “I mean, you said you wanted to kiss me—“

“You sweet girl,” Jamie said with a little pout. “Did you really not know? I want to ruin you.”

“Oh,” you said sharply. “I-I mean, I figured, but I didn’t want to say anything and assume a-and then make a fool out of myself.”

“No fools here,” Jamie said. His hand touched your thigh, his hand impossibly warm against you, and you laid a gentle hand on top of his, letting your fingers nudge his. “I like knowing what you’re thinking. Tell me what’s on your mind.”

“Honestly?” you asked with a sigh, and Jamie nodded. “How badly I wish you would kiss me.”

Quickly, he leaned into you, and he pressed his lips against yours. The kiss was gentle and simple, and you leaned into him as his hand raised to gently touch your cheek. His rings were cool against your skin, and you pressed yourself closer to him as he held you carefully. He tasted like cigarettes and warm skin, all man and all Jamie, and he gently smoothed his teeth against your bottom lip, biting just enough to make you smile, before he fell away from you. He didn’t pull away completely, though, touching his forehead against yours and taking a deep breath. “Good,” he whispered. “Now I’d like to do something else.”

“What is that?” you asked.

“I think I’d like to make love to you,” Jamie told you. “Only if you want that, though.”

You nodded quickly. “I want that,” you told him. “But, um, I’m a little nervous.”

“Because you’ve never done it before?” Jamie asked, and you nodded quickly. “We don’t have to. I’d be happy to take you to dinner and drop you off back at your house, leaving you completely intact.”

“Or…” you started. “You could fuck me here and now, and give into temptation.”

“Oh, I’d love to do that,” Jamie said softly. He tilted his head, as if contemplating kissing you again. “I’d really love to… Tell me to stop and I will.”

“I won’t,” you breathed, and you met him for another kiss. This one was instantly more, instantly hungrier, his warm tongue snaking between your lips and into your mouth as he held you close. His hands grabbed your waist and he tugged you close, and he broke the kiss to take a deep breath. His hands smoothed down to your thighs, and he pulled you into his lap, your legs parting wide to envelop his hips. He pulled at your pretty sundress as he kissed you again, and you carded your fingers through his hair as he claimed you again, chasing you into a hungry kiss.

Your hips rocked down onto his as your knees pressed into the hard wood of the pew, aching just a little, and Jamie’s hand pressed into your ass and shoved your hips down onto him as his bucked up into you. You felt his hardness through his trousers, pressing up into you, and you gasped at the feeling. “How long’s it been?” you whispered, and Jamie pressed his forehead to yours again before stealing another quick kiss.

“Years,” he mumbled. “S’nice not to have to do this myself.”

“You masturbate?” you asked with a giggle. “Naughty preacher.”

You yelped as his hand came down onto your ass, spanking you hard, the sound of it reverberating through the empty sanctuary. “I’m a grown man,” he growled through gritted teeth. “I have needs. As of Sunday, though, I’ve been insatiable.”

“Lucky me,” you smiled, and Jamie gave you a half-smile, more of a smirk than anything. “You gonna fuck me hard?”

“Keep talking to me like that and I just might,” Jamie chuckled. “You have no idea what I’ve imagined as I fucked my hand. It’s like I told you, I want to ruin you.”

“Ruin me,” you begged him, leaning forward and kissing his smooth neck. Your hands fell from his hair and down to his shirt, and you started to unbutton his shirt. The more skin you exposed, the more ink you saw, and you gaped at him as you smoothed your hands down his shaved chest. He was covered in tattoos, all on his chest and sternum and belly, and your mouth watered at the sight of them. “Oh my God…”

“I told you, I used to run around with a bad crowd,” Jamie told you, his hands pressing upwards into your dress. “Rock music and girls, it was… But this is better. You are better than all of that.”

“You flatter me,” you laughed. “You haven’t had me yet.”

Jamie shrugged. “I know a good fuck when I see one,” he said. “Old habits die hard, I guess.”

“Stop it,” you mumbled as you blushed, and Jamie grabbed handfuls of your ass, rucking your dress up past your hips. “What made you want to join the church?”

“I grew up going,” Jamie told you as your hands fell to his pants, playing with his belt but not undoing it. Your heart beat deep inside your chest at the prospect of undressing him and seeing his cock, a sort of anxious glee making your heart race, and you listened intently as Jamie told you his story. “Me, my brothers… But when I was young, your age, I rebelled against it and had a sinful lifestyle, all of that that I told you about… But I got tired of that. I got tired of existing just for pleasure and sin, and I turned back to the church to guide me. But then you— You came into my life just a few days ago, and I already know that you’re what I was made for. I was made to guide you, to help you… I’m not supposed to be here like this, but I can pray for forgiveness for this one night.”

“I’ve never believed in this sort of stuff,” you admitted. “But maybe, with your guidance, I can find a way to come back home.”

“I’d do anything for you,” Jamie said. “Now, little lamb, I need to be inside you.”

“Need you too,” you mumbled, and you finally resolved yourself to open his pants. You undid his belt and tugged it out of the loops, and your fingers shakily went for the button and zipper, pulling it down. “Jamie, I’m a little nervous.”

“That’s okay,” Jamie said. “That makes me feel better, I’m terrified. But I need you more than I’m scared of you.”

“Me too,” you told him. You took a deep breath and reached your hand down into his trousers, and your hand was quickly filled by his hard cock. He felt thick and heavy and hot, and you pulled him from out of his pants to get a proper look at him. His cock was flushed red, uncut, with a bead of creamy pre-cum already leaking from his tip. “Oh, wow.”

“Like what you see?” Jamie chuckled. “It’s been a while since I’ve had a girl all mooney-eyed over my cock. I almost missed it.”

“It looks really…” you started. “Umm… Big. Will it fit?”

Jamie laughed, his big smile on display for you. “Will it fit?” he repeated. “Of course it will. I’ll make it.”

Your skin prickled at his words, and his hands moved from your ass to your front, nudging your panties aside with his slender fingers. His rough fingertips slipped against your skin, feeling you and the little bit of wetness that you had leaking from you. You had been wet ever since Jamie had first kissed you, and Jamie leaned up and gave you another quick kiss as his fingers danced at your cunt. “Are you ready, little lamb?” Jamie asked, and you nodded quickly before he sank one, long finger inside you.

You gasped, grabbing hard at his shoulders to keep yourself upright, and Jamie leaned in and kissed at your neck as his finger stroked you from the inside. “Jamie!” you squealed, and he grinned into your neck.

“Does that feel good, little lamb?” he whispered, and you nodded, digging your nails into his skin. “Good, good girl. Make it hurt, baby.”

“Jamie,” you groaned as he withdrew from you for a moment before pushing back in, fucking you slowly on his finger. “Want more, God.”

Jamie continued to kiss your neck as he pushed in a second finger, the stretch of your pussy around him making you whimper in pain and pleasure. Make it hurt, he said. It certainly did, but you loved it. You looked down at yourself, and you drank in the sight of his tattooed fingers plunging deep inside you, the cross on his middle finger shining with your wet. It was so sinful, but Jamie was right; you could pray for forgiveness and God would grant it. Maybe you could even pray together.

“Need you,” you moaned and worked your hips down onto his fingers, taking him deeper. Your body craved him in a way you had never felt before, hot and needy, and you squirmed in his arms as you tried to get more of him.

“It’ll hurt if I fuck you now,” Jamie told you, and you kissed him deep, tasting every inch of his mouth. He grunted a bit, then tugged away from your mouth, and he pulled his fingers from you, pressing his hands to either side of your face. “Darling, I know you’re needy, such a sweet little thing you are, but I’ll fuck you when I’m ready. And I’m not ready yet.”

You pouted and whined, and Jamie pouted back at you, mocking you. “I know, little lamb,” he said. “But I want to take my time with you and savor my sin.”

“Savor your sin,” you scoffed. “Please, Jamie, I’m ready!”

“I like the way you say my name,” Jamie mumbled, as if he were really thinking about it, and his hands danced in your hair, pushing it back from your face. “If I put my cock in you now, you mustn't get upset at how quickly I finish… It’s been years for me.”

“I won’t,” you said softly. “I won’t be upset with you.”

“Alright,” Jamie agreed. “Open your legs a little wider, you’re gonna ride my cock.”

You did as he told you, parting your thighs even more severely than before, and he grabbed tight at your hips. He guided your hips with his strong grip, his azure eyes watching your every move, and you held his shoulders tightly as he touched the burning head of his cock to your quivering hole. “You ready?” he asked, and you nodded eagerly, your belly flipping. It was really about to happen; you were really about to give your virginity to your preacher. And, God, you had never wanted anything so badly. “Put your full weight on me, don’t be afraid to.”

“Okay,” you agreed, and Jamie continued his guidance, pulling you down further and further, his hot cock sliding between your sticky folds and into you. The first intrusion punched the breath from your lungs, and you gasped, and Jamie smiled wickedly. This man was no angel; he was a devil, maybe even the Devil, come to corrupt you and bring you into his palace of sin. You loved the hot flame in your chest, and you sealed your fate with a kiss, biting his plush bottom lip.

“My sweet lamb,” Jamie mumbled, pulling his lips from your teeth. “Feels like heaven inside you… Fuck, this is just what I wanted.”

Without warning, Jamie bucked his hips up into you, burying himself up to his balls inside your cunt, and you gasped loudly at the sudden fullness. You had never realized how empty you felt until you were full of him, and suddenly the world seemed to snap into sharp perspective. Your life had been dull without him, not so shiny and bright; your life, you, had been empty. It wasn’t God’s love that could fix this feeling; it was Jamie’s love. Intentions be damned, you needed him. You would get on your knees and worship your lover and, knowing him, he would relish the prayers of his name and make you pray louder.

“Jamie,” you whimpered, hanging your head and hiding in his warm neck. He smelled good, like the musk of a man and cigarettes and cologne, and your cunt throbbed around him. He was unmoving inside of you, letting you adjust to the size and feel of him, and you tugged at the blond ends of his hair. If you looked closely, really studied him, you saw that there was a hint of mousy-brown peeking from his scalp. Dyed hair; not what he seemed, a wolf in sheeps’ clothing, intent on devouring innocent little lambs. “Jamie!”

“That’s it, little lamb,” Jamie whispered, kissing the side of your face as he grabbed hard at your ass, surely leaving bruises in his wake. “Who’s fucking you, love?”

“You!” you sobbed. You felt tears prick at your eyes, and Jamie’s controlling ways came back, tugging you up on his cock until only the head of him remained inside you, then he pushed you back down, burying himself deep inside you once more. “Jamie, God!”

“Which one?” Jamie growled in your ear. “Me or Him?”

“You!” you cried again. “Always you! I’ll always choose you.”

“Good girl,” Jamie told you, and his hand landed on your ass in a quick smack. It stung, but it only heightened your sinful pleasure, and you moaned as you allowed your tears to fall. “Confess your sins to your god, tell me what you’ve done.”

“I lie,” you whimpered. “I cheat, I steal. I’ve done so bad, please forgive me.”

“Good fuckin’ girl,” Jamie grumbled in your ear, and he bit your neck, sucking hard on the sensitive skin. You knew he was leaving his mark, dark and ugly, on your skin, but, for someone as beautiful as he was, it would be alright. Your ground your hips down onto him, feeling his cock throb inside you, and his hands fell from your hips to stretch along the top of the pew, pressing his fingernails into the polished wood. His head tilted back just so, exposing the smooth and pale column of his throat, and he moaned softly, lightly. “Just like that, love. You’ll make me cum quick like this… I’ll forgive you, darling, you’ve done no wrong in my eyes. All the best lambs are led astray at times, it takes a powerful shepard to bring them back.”

“And that’s you?” you sniffled.

Jamie’s head whipped up, his fallen eyes snapping open, and he examined your face, the tears streaming down your cheeks and your sputtery lips. You gasped out a sob, still riding his cock, and Jamie touched his hands to your arms, pulling them around his neck. Your front pressed against his, the straps of your dress falling from your shoulders, and Jamie laid a gentle kiss on your spit-covered mouth. “That’s me, lamb,” he said. “So long as you pray to me, I’ll lead you where you should be.”

“Jamie,” you keened into his warm hands, feeling them explore your body, up your dress and down the front of it. Even his fingers were greedy, and you balked at the touch of him to that special nerve, sending shocks down your spine. “Jamie! Oh my God, fuck!”

“Keep saying my name,” he said. “You’re doing so well for me. When we’re done here, I’ll take you home, have you pray to me all night. Would you like that? Just you and your god, all alone, worshipping me as I worship your body?”

“Yes!” you sobbed. His cock was so deep inside you, driving you wild, and you squeezed your arms around his neck to draw him into a kiss. Now you were the greedy one, chasing him with a million kisses, and Jamie smiled his winning grin.

“Already devoted,” he said. “You’ll never stray very far again, will you?”

“Not as long as you fuck me like this,” you told him, and his fingers continued their harsh circles on your clit. Your cunt spasmed at the feeling, your entire body unsure what to do with itself, and you could taste your oncoming orgasm. You could tell that your lover, your god, was close too, and he gnashed his teeth as he pinched your thigh, making your legs open wider.

“I’ll fuck you better,” he said. “In bed, I’ll kiss you all over and really worship you, I’ll take my time with you. Fuck, sweet thing, I’m cumming inside, I have to.”

“Please,” you begged him. “Give it to me, please, I need it.”

“I’ll worship you all night,” Jamie whispered, controlling your body as you rode him. His hot cock was heavy as he fucked in and out, the drag of him making you feel lightheaded, and you sniffled up your tears as Jamie whispered in your ear. “You’d like that, won’t you? Just you and me…” His eyes squeezed shut, his eyebrows lifting in ecstasy, and, when he spoke next, he was breathless. “I’m cumming, lamb, I’m—”

You felt his release coat your walls, your throbbing cunt milking him for every drop, and you moaned with him, singing your holy hymn. His fingers rubbed you through his orgasm, drawing you to your own finish, and your hips stuttered as you squealed and, for the first time, came. The hot lightning prodded at your thighs and belly and the base of your spine, and you gushed around him, covering you and him with your release. Your breaths came in short gasps as you tried to control your quivering body, and Jamie held you close, matching his breathing to yours. His inked chest was slick with sweat as he pressed himself against you, and you shucked off his jacket and unbuttoned shirt to get to his bare skin. Jamie laughed at you and smoothed his hand down your hair, and he kissed your forehead.

“Good, good,” he whispered. “Such a good girl. Come here, you’re just shaking like a little leaf.”

Jamie’s grip was tight around you as he held you, his cock now soft inside you, but he made no move to pull out. “Not exactly immaculate,” he mumbled, and he placed a kiss below your ear. “But it’ll do.”

“Yes,” you gasped. “Oh, God, I love you.”

“I love you so much,” Jamie whispered. “My sweet lamb. Come home with me, please, let me worship you.”

“Of course,” you said. “Anything for you. Only…”

“What?” Jamie asked. "What's wrong?"

“I think my parents are waiting for me,” you mumbled. “I told them that you were wanting to speak with me and nothing more.”

“Hmm,” Jamie huffed quickly. “What a talk, huh?”

You giggled, and Jamie helped you up, your legs shaking as you stood. He fell from inside you, his soft cock just as beautiful as him hard, and you both busied yourself with fixing yourselves back into a presentable state. Jamie replaced his wide-brimmed hat to hide his messy hair, but there was no hiding what he had done to you. Bites on your neck, marks on your skin, bruises on your thighs. If this was what worship with him was like, it might be worth it to invest in a good painkiller.

“Jamie?” you said softly, touching your tender neck, and he stood to his full height, examining you. He tsk-ed his tongue a few times as his fingers touched your neck as well, and he reached for your abandoned sweater, helping you pull it on.

“It won’t hide them,” Jamie started. “But it’ll do.” His shirt was unbuttoned halfway down his chest, the solid black heart on his chest visible through the gap, and you smiled at the thought of him. Your handsome man, your God, your inked and pierced and tatted rock-and-roll God. “I don’t mean to scare you with this, lamb, but if you think that this life would suit you, we could… Well, let’s say that you might not be leaving on Friday.”

“No?” you asked. “I’d be staying here with you, I suppose?”

“Only if you’d like,” Jamie said quickly. “If you want, you can go back to your life in the big city and forget about this small town, it’s what I would do.”

“But what if I don’t want that?” you asked. “What if I want to be… I don’t know, your muse? Your Mother Mary? What is a simple girl to a god?”

“You can be whatever you wish to be,” Jamie told you. “I’d marry you right now, in fact, to keep you. But I guess we should probably try to at least act like we’re courting like a normal couple instead of getting married within three days of knowing each other.”

“But couples back then used to do that all the time,” you said quickly. The thought of marriage excited you, wearing his ring and carrying his name and maybe even his child; it was all so invigorating. “My grandfather proposed to my grandmother after a week of meeting her.”

“A week does not three days make, little lamb,” Jamie chuckled. “How about this? We’re together, using whatever title you’d like and makes you comfortable, and, after enough time, we can tell the church that we’re getting married.”

“How much time is that?” you asked.

“Enough time for those hickies to fade, at least,” Jamie said, pressing his thumb to one of the marks on your neck. “Does that sound nice?”

“Yes,” you said. “It does.”

Jamie walked you to the front door of the church and he opened the door for you. You saw your parents’ car idling in the small lot, all alone, but, before you could say anything, Jamie pressed his palm to your cheek and kissed you gently. Only his lips pressed to yours, no snaking tongue or wandering hands, and you gasped gently. “Jamie, my parents can see—“

“This was our first kiss,” he told you quickly. “We spoke about how you wished to be closer to God, and I asked you to dinner, and I couldn’t control my urges and kissed you. Now, I’ll make a face and turn away, regretting what I’ve done.”

“What an actor I’ve got,” you giggled, and Jamie smiled against your mouth. The kiss finally broke, and Jamie smoothed down his jacket on his body as he assumed the anxious energy of a man who wasn’t sure of his actions. “When will I see you next?” you asked.

“Tonight,” Jamie said. “For dinner. I’ll pick you up at your house.”

“Alright,” you said. “Umm… Goodbye, my God.”

“Goodbye, my lamb,” Jamie said, and you felt his steely blue gaze on you as you turned and made quick time to your car, sliding into the backseat.

“So,” your mother said slowly as you slammed the car door shut. “You and Father James…”

“He said he could see me struggling with my faith,” you lied quickly, your neck burning with the marks he gave you. If you craned your head and looked at yourself in the rearview mirror, you could even see the red patches that would bloom to purple overnight. “And he helped me pray.”

“And what else?”

You swallowed thickly. “He asked me to dinner,” you said carefully.

“Did he?” your mother asked smoothly. “Anything other than that kiss?”

“I-I didn’t ask for him to,” you said quickly. “He just… Did. And he apologized for it.”

“Are you still going to dinner with him?” your mother asked, and you nodded quickly. “Be careful. Father James might be a holy man, but he’s still just a man. I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I won’t get hurt,” you said. “Not so long as I have him by my side.”

#jamie bower #jamie campbell bower #jamie bower x reader #jamie campbell bower x reader #jamie bower rpf #jamie campbell bower rpf #jamie bower x you #jamie bower x y/n #jamie campbell bower x you #jamie campbell bower x y/n

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mimisempai · 3 years

Text

Wait for me on the other side 6/8

Summary:

Mobius must face both his past and a brutal news. He opens his heart to Loki. Loki wonders about what connects them...

Notes:

Prepare some tissues...

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32948254/chapters/82394134

House on the cliff - 2019

Mobius returned home, patiently awaited by Croki. While he was feeding him, he noticed that he had a message on his answering machine.

"Mobius, pick up, I have something to tell you. It's about Ravonna."

Forty-five minutes after Casey's call, Mobius rushed into the hospital.

He headed to the admissions office and spoke to the first person who came in.

"Hello, I'm looking for Ravonna Renslayer. I'm Mr. Mobius."

"Hold on a moment."

The young woman consulted her computer and looked up.

"Yes. Mr. Mobius. You are expected in Doctor Cho's general medicine department."

She pointed in the right direction.

When he arrived at the ward, he asked for Dr. Cho.

He waited a few minutes and a woman approached him, holding out her hand.

"Hello Mr. Mobius, I am Dr. Cho, I am the one who takes care of Mrs. Renslayer. Since you were the person to notify in case of an emergency, we called you."

"What happened? Is she okay?"

Dr. Cho motioned for him to follow her, "She's fine. She had a relatively minor collapse, but we'll have to keep her for a day or two, wait for the results of the tests we did. Since you are her only family according to her file, even for something minor we had to call you. I'll take you to her room."

Casey was waiting outside Ravonna's room when Mobius arrived with Dr. Cho. They embraced.

"How is she?" Mobius asked.

"You know her..." replied Casey, shaking his head. "I had to bring her some work, the latest reports from the financial department."

Mobius looked disbelieving and laughed, "Of course. The last thing we would want to do is let a little collapse endanger the company."

Mobius entered the room quietly. Ravonna laid on her bed, connected to monitoring devices, reading her reports and making annotations, papers scattered around her on her bed. She didn't hear him right away, and when she raised her head, she lowered the report but didn't put it down.

"Hi.", Mobius whispered.

Ravonna did not smile, simply nodded and continued to work on her files as if Mobius were not there.

After a while, she said, "I don't need you."'

Mobius simply replied, "I'm going to stay until your exam results come in."

"That's not until tomorrow morning."

"I'm not going to drive all the way home that late. I'm staying."

Ravonna shrugged and returned to her reading. The silence was deafening.

After a moment, Mobius picked up one of the magazines about expensive watches that was on the table and asked, "Do you mind if I..."

Ravonna shook her head, "Go ahead. If you're still interested in that kind of thing."

Mobius didn't look up and began flipping through the magazine.

When he looked up about ten minutes later, Ravonna was asleep. Mobius watched her breathe in the dimly lit room, the monitoring devices flashing silently. He picked up the papers scattered on the bed and stacked them neatly on the nightstand.

Then he sat down, trying to find a comfortable position to sleep in the hospital room chair. Since this was impossible, he picked up a piece of paper and began to write to Loki.

I know I haven't written in a while.

But I need to... I wanted to tell you about someone who is very close to me. We are not related by blood, but I consider her to be family to me, like a big sister.

We grew up together in the orphanage.

She is well-known. You know her work... Ravonna Renslayer, the CEO of Time Keepers, the famous watch brand.

I always liked to put watches together and take them apart and Ravonna was good at putting things in the right light.

We decided to create Timekeepers when we were fourteen years old. We wanted to sell quality luxury watches that everyone could afford.

A dream of two orphans.

We promised ourselves that when we would be rich we would buy the house on the hill.

But Ravonna lost sight of our dreams and always wanted more. More money, more fame.

Mass production, overpriced watches, I had no pleasure in creating anymore.

Every meeting became a war zone.

Someone had to surrender. I did. I quit. Without notice.

That's when I started Miss Minutes, my little store and got back to my roots.

Mobius must have fallen asleep because when he opened his eyes, he was aching from his position in the chair.

Seeing that Ravonna was still asleep, he went to the hospital cafeteria to get a cup of coffee, and when he came back up fifteen minutes later, he saw Dr. Cho.

"Ah, Mr. Mobius, we just reviewed her results with Mrs. Renslayer. Unfortunately, she has forbidden me to talk to you about them and does not want you to visit her anymore."

Mobius was hurt of course, but not surprised either, given their tense relationship.

Dr. Cho, however, took pity on him. "I can't go into detail, but regrettably, you'll have to prepare for the worst."

Mobius' heart leapt in his chest and with a tight throat, he asked, "How long?"

Dr; Cho put her hand on his shoulder and said, " At any moment. I'm sorry."

Mobius left the hospital in a daze and drove to the house on the cliff. As soon as he arrived, he fed Croki, sat down in his chair and continued the letter to Loki. At this time, it was his only source of comfort.

Loki's apartment - 2021

Loki, in casual attire with Croki by his side, was sitting on his couch reading the letter from Mobius. He was very moved by the way Mobius opened up to him.

His heart cried at the sadness he felt in the letter. Obviously Ravonna was someone dear to his heart.

Once again, Loki was frustrated by the barrier of years between them. He wanted so much to be with Mobius, to support him. He sighed as he continued to read the letter.

I don't know what I expected.

Part of me thought that given her condition, I would get more than a "She doesn't want to see you anymore."

But of course, that's not how things work. When I left TK, I rejected everything she stood for.

That's how she saw it.

I think the fact that I bought the house cemented our disagreement for her and it's too late to change things now.

One thing is for sure: if I was really hoping for a tearful little bedside meeting, I'm as stupid as she thinks I am.

Well, good. I seem to have poured my little heart out here. I'm sorry.

Thanks for reading.

I want to tell you things I've never told anyone.

Things I didn't know myself until I wrote them down to send to you.

Maybe that's the strangest part of it all.

Love, Mobius.

Loki lingered on this letter, and especially on the last word, "LOVE". He patted Croki's head, thoughtful.

He had so many questions.

Love, Mobius.

Was it casual? Mobius was the kind of person who knew exactly what he was saying. Every word was important.

So the next question was, did Loki feel the same way?

Loki didn't need to reflect, he knew what he felt.

The question that remained was, did they have a future...?

Mobius' house - 2019

Croki trotted over to Mobius' bed. Mobius was lying down, unable to sleep, but it was too early to get up. He felt like picking up the phone but resisted.

Loki's apartment - 2021

Loki couldn't sleep anymore, something was disturbing him since he had read Mobius' letter.

He got up and went to his computer, he had to check one thing about Ravonna Renslayer.

Two minutes later he rushed out of his apartment and drove to the house on the cliff.

Mobius House - 2019

Mobius après s’être préparé pour aller au travail, sortit de sa maison et se dirigea vers son pickup.

Mobius House - 2021

Loki braked hard and ran to the mailbox. He put a piece of paper in it and raised the flag with a sudden movement.

Mobius House - 2019

Mobius drove away from the house without seeing the flag that was rising behind him. A few minutes later, his phone on the passenger seat began to ring.

Glancing down, he saw that it was Dr. Cho.

He pulled over to the side of the road and with a lump in his throat, took the call.

"Yes?"

-Mr. Mobius, this is Dr. Cho. I'm afraid I have some difficult news for you.

A few minutes later, in a daze, he parked in front of his house. On his way to his house. He saw that the flag was up.

He opened it, took the note, read it and then let his arm fall back, the paper flew away before landing further.

You need to go back to the hospital right away! Ravonna Renslayer died on-

A few days later, Mobius sat in the back of the church while the pastor preached to a crowd that Mobius knew was there more for Ravonna's fame than for their connection to her.

He didn't listen to the sermon and, clutching Loki's last letter in his pocket, he thought about what he had written.

Mobius, I'm so sorry about Ravonna.

Even though every pain is different, I know what it's like to lose the little family we have left.

I knew I had to at least try to warn you. I thought I could do it in time.

I hoped we could change what happened. I was wrong.

I guess these things can't be changed.

What I do know is that the shock is still fresh for me, even though it happened two years ago, so I can't imagine what it's like for you.

These things just happen...sometimes. I know.

Last February, I remember it was Valentine's Day, but it was really hot for a day in February.

I was at the fountain in Valhalheim Square.

And something happened. I won't bore you with the details now, but it was hard. Not like what you're going through, but it bothered me a lot.

And a friend gave me some good advice.

She told me to go to a place that would bring me peace.

That's what I did. I drove to the house on the cliff.

And that was the day I got your first letter.

It's a place we both love, a place that has a huge meaning for both of us, I hope you can find some solace there.

And I hope that what has kept you and Ravonna apart will eventually seem less important, and perhaps, in time, disappear.

YOURS, Loki.

Loki's words echoing in his head, Mobius was anxious to get to the house, to seek and perhaps find the solace that Loki spoke of.

When he arrived, he saw the flag raised. He opened the box, and took out not a note, but a book.

When he turned it over, his heart stopped for a moment.

For all times - Always by R.RENSLAYER

He returned home and sitting down in his chair, he opened it and saw first a small note from Loki's hand.

The book won't be published for a year.

or two, so don't show it to anyone. But I thought you should see it.

He turned the first page and could not stop the tears from flowing.

To Mobius

This is the story of a dream.

The story of a brother and sister bound by an ideal

But like all true stories, it doesn't always end well.

They chose a different path.

They drifted apart and never found each other again.

But without the presence of one in the life of the other, neither of them would have become what they are.

A story of two lives, a story of two successes, a story of two paths.

Underneath was a photo, Ravonna and him in front of the house on the cliff.

He continued to flip through the book, his eyes blurry with tears, and felt as if he was going through pieces of his life.

Pictures of TK's creation, of Mobius' workshop, of their first offices.

The day of the first opening.

Then the various collections of watches over the years, from the first one designed by Mobius to the latest luxury watches. Created after his departure.

Pictures of the rise of TK.

Photos taken after Mobius' time.

Until the last photo.

It was the front of Miss Minutes, of his shop.

A single sentence underneath.

We have taken different paths, our views have drifted apart, but you will always be my brother. For All time. Always.

Mobius wept for a long time over Ravonna, over the lost years, over what could have been. Then when the tears had dried, he closed the book and placed it neatly on the shelf. His hand lingered on the title for a moment.

Then, looking determined, he took his old sketchbook, sat outside the house and began to draw.

Loki's apartment - 2021

Loki, looking bewildered, was contemplating a sketch of the house on the hill.

At the bottom of the house, written in charcoal, it read:

I WANT TO MEET YOU!

FOR REAL THIS TIME!

_______

As a reader, I hate cliffhangers... I apologize in advance for being so cruel, I hope you will forgive me 😭

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 (End)

#lokius fics #lokius #Developing Relationship #no powers au #Alternate Universe #Letters #penpal #loki series au #loki #mobius m. mobius

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