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#those last two are for Old Tumblr
mattodore · 6 months
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hello good morning happy thumb in his mouth tuesday (a day i just made up for matthias's slutty little whims)
#river dipping#theodore doe#matthias evanoff#echthroi#a burning house to live in#ts4#blender#now i just have to make a pose where theo's thumb is in matthias's mouth so everything goes full circle#you already know matthias is gonna be on his knees for it 😌#but anyway i finished making that first pose last night while recording a little video showing nene how i make poses#and then when i woke up i jumped back into blender to make another version of the pose but like. hornier.#i love making poses rn like i'm in blender so often these days... honestly i'm in blender more than i'm in the sims lmao#there's one i started working on like two days ago that is so... i wish i could share it on here but cock and balls are out in it </3#placing so many curses on tumblr hq#...........i did make a pillowfort account tho so :)#i'll post the wip of it onto there when i get further along bc the pose is kind of messy atm. still trying to figure out the anatomy 😁🔫#i actually made a pillowfort yesterday just to post an old screenshot from the casual oc save that i found again and had a good laugh at#i've been messing around on there and i really like how you can set posts to being just for logged in users / followers / mutuals#and there's an 18+ label you can slap onto your posts too#like it's great!!! tumblr sucks so bad why don't we have those options on here... seriously#ALSO you can turn off reblogs on pillowfort any time you want and you can set it so that it DELETES ANYONE ELSE'S REBLOGS OF THE POST!!!#WHY is that not an option on this website like i hate it hereeeeeeeeee#but anyway pillowfort also seems to not have that many people on it so like. that's literally perfect for me and my avpd#i'll probably end up posting on there a lot#...... oh and#nsft#?? just in case i mean matthias does in fact have a handful in that second pose there so. for the blacklists ☝️
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artdumpss · 1 year
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collection of doodles from the other night
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caffeiiine · 4 months
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do you ever not dream for extended amounts of time then the one time you do dream it’s really fucking vivid
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sevinite · 1 year
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what do i gotta do to convince people to write joel x tess… do i have to beg… should i give y’all a milli and some change like i’ll do anything i just need it
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wtnytv · 1 year
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zukkaoru · 1 year
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going through my google docs and it turns out i remember strikingly little from 2020..
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caputvulpinum · 9 months
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Hello, tumblr! I mentioned this in my stream last night with my friend and collaborator @lakemojave, but here is the official tumblr announcement: I've started a fundraiser to pay for GAS that I can't afford on my own.
I...try my best to appear pretty unflappable on this site, because my online persona relies on that. But about two years ago I was harassed by TE/RFs and no matter how much I tried to forget or get over it, there was a comment that a 17 year old made towards my appearance the has probably been the most devastating thing I've ever felt, and ever since that insult I've grown steadily and steadily more disgusted and anxious about my appearance--specifically my hair.
As an AMAB trans person, I'm of course going to experience male-pattern baldness. Even in cisgender men, more than 75% of them experience some form of heightened anxiety and dysphoria due to hair loss or fear of it. I don't know how those numbers change when talking about trans people, but I can't imagine it's not even higher.
In the interest of full transparency at the cost of, frankly, my pride: I have reached the point in my dysphoria where I am growing to be borderline suicidal. I've struggled with suicidal ideation since I was a young teenager, but this is the first time in over a decade that I've reached a level where I am terrified what will happen when it gets worse.
And so with all that said, I've started a fundraiser on PayPal to try and raise money for my gender-affirming care. Y'all might remember me from the Great Soy Sauce Conspiracy of late December of last year, and maybe also how I stopped working on the project due to mental health reasons. I remember how kind all of you were when I was struggling with living newly on my own trying to afford food and things like convection plates, and it's my hope that I could rely on you all to help me again.
With that said, I've made the decision that if I am able to fulfill this fundraiser's cost...I'm going to pick back up The Mysterious Appearance of Miss Appleton and finally finish it once and for all...in video essay format, because that feels most appropriate to me. I think I'm going to be ready for it this time.
If you've read this far, thank you so much. If you need it, though:
TLDR: I need to get myself gender-affirming surgery because i'm getting real close to suicidal over my dysphoria. I've made a fundraiser for it. If the fundraiser is successful, I'm going to finally finish the video essay for The Mysterious Appearance Of Miss Appleton. Thank you for your time and your help.
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veganineden · 8 months
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On the Evolution of “Happily Ever After” and Why “Nothing Lasts Forever”
A reflection inspired by Good Omens 2
One of my favorite Tumblr posts on the second season of Good Omens 2 was actually not about the series at all, but our reaction to it, primarily the ending. @zehwulf wrote, “I think a lot of us—myself included—got a little too comfortable with assuming [Aziraphale and Crowley would] work on their issues right away post-Armageddon.” We did the work for them through meta, fanfiction, fanart, and building a plethora of headcanons. Who among us AO3-surfing fans didn’t read and love Demonology and the Tri-Phasic Model of Trauma: An Integrative Approach by Nnm?
In the 4 long years since season one was released, we did more than seek to understand and repair rifts between two fictional beings: we were forced to reckon with ourselves too. We faced a global pandemic, suffered traumatizing losses and isolation, and were forced to really and truly look into the face of our atrocities-ridden and capitalistic world. The mainstream rise of Diversity, Equity, Inclusion and Justice work, and our participation in this work, showed us that the systems in place were built to oppress and harm most of us, and they are. 
So, what does this have to do with the evolution of “happily ever after”? 
My friend put it best in a conversation we had following the season finale, when she pointed out a shift in media focus. The “happy end” in old stories about wars and kingdoms used to be “we killed the evil old king and put a noble young king in his place and now citizens can live in peace” and we’re transitioning into a period of “we tore down the whole fucking monarchy.” 
If we look at season one, written to follow the beats of a love story, it comforted us by offering a pretty traditional happy ending pattern: you get your fancy dinner with your special someone, the romantic music plays, and you have a place to call your own. Season one’s finale provided a temporary freedom for Aziraphale and Crowley, the “breathing room,” but it didn't solve the problem that was Heaven and Hell, or the agendas belonging to those systems of oppression. 
Is it good enough to keep our heads down, pretend the bad stuff isn’t happening, and live our own personal happy endings until we die? Moral quandaries aside, if you don't die (or if you care about the generations after you), then, like Aziraphale said, it “can’t last forever.” There’s a clear unpleasant end to the “happily ever after” that’s based on ignoring our problems– it’s the destruction of our relationships, and humanity. 
Ineffable Bureaucracy can go off into the stars because they do not care about humanity. 
You know who does?
Aziraphale. 
And Aziraphale knows that Crowley cares about humanity too. (He knows because Crowley was the one who proposed sabotaging Armageddon in the first place, who only invited him to the stars when he thought all was lost, because Crowley would save humanity if he thought it was possible, and Aziraphale knows Crowley has survived losing Everything before, and he will do all in his power so that Crowley does not need to experience that again.) 
In season one and two, we see how much they care about humanity, beyond their orders, to the point The Systems begin to frown at them. Aziraphale hears Crowley’s offer to run away together in the final episode of season two, to leave Earth behind, and just like the first time that offer was made in season one, he declines. He knows choosing only “us” is not a choice either of them can live with for the rest of eternity.
I believe season 3 will provide an opportunity to “dismantle the system,” but I don’t know how it will play out. I worry that Aziraphale has put himself in the now-dead trope of the “young noble king.” (I wish Crowley had told him why Gabriel was dismissed from his duties.) I worry that he would martyr himself as a sole agent for change. I worry that he doesn’t actually know how to dismantle anything by himself: because you can’t. He needs Crowley. He DOES. He needs Crowley, and Muriel, and other angels and demons and humans without fixed mindsets to help him. Only by learning to listen and making room at the table for all can they (and we) move past personal satisfaction to collective liberation. 
Crowley was right when he said that Aziraphale had discovered his “civic obligations.”
So, I think we will get our modern-day happy ending– and it’s going to involve a lot of pain and discomfort, communication, healing and teamwork– and in the end, it’ll all be okay. There will be a time for rest and a time for “us.” 
And most likely a cottage. 
“Do the best you can until you know better. Then when you know better, do better.”
 - Maya Angelou
Support the SAG-AFTRA strike and other unions. Trust @neil-gaiman. Register to vote if you haven’t yet. Hold yourself and others accountable with compassion. Read books. Keep doing the work. Rest. Then watch Good Omens 2 again.  
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tojiscumdumpster · 28 days
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⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||။ toji fushiguro x his favorite customer (revision)
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✧ summary toji has a little soft spot for his favorite customer that he can't get enough of.
✧ content warnings reader is a black woman who uses she/her pronouns. chubby!reader and inexperienced!reader. rich girl in her midtwenties, very needy! usage of profanity, standing missionary, oral - m!receiving, doggy style, mixture of praise and degradation kink, breeding kink, unprotected, creampie and squirting, terms of endearment ─ pretty girl, princess, baby, baby girl, etc. softdom!toji with rough, passionate, and filthy intercourse. told in first POV ─ toji's. i got reader calling toji TJ, and i think that’s so cute pls.
✧ author's note happy birthday to my baby daddy toji fushiguro! we've been going strong now for years. just a little something something to celebrate him. this fic has been in the drafts since December. talk about black people time, old sksk. also, if you already seen the original of this fic on tumblr, it's mine lol. this is just a revision, so don't go around saying i copied someone! my writing has changed so i wanted to redo this and add some adjustments. i hope y'all enjoy. support me by reblogging, liking, and commenting your thoughts. ♡ AGELESS/BLANK BLOGS AND/OR MINORS - DO NOT INTERACT.
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 When it comes to women I fuck, I treat them the same because at the end of the day, they pay me good money to stuff their pussy with cock. 
 Don’t really care if they're married either. I usually get the old, desperate broads that aren’t getting any attention from their husbands at home, so it’s my job to make them feel good for the night. 
 I don’t do favorites. 
 I damn sure don’t give discounts. 
 And I definitely don’t get attached. But the moment I met Y/N that all changed. 
 My favorite customer. 
 Never did I expect a younger woman to pay me to get fucked, especially when she looks that good. 
 I’m almost positive she has a line filled with fuckers that’s desperately wanting to know what this tight, wet pussy feels like, yet here I am, living their fantasy. 
 I fucked Y/N once. 
 Then, twice. 
 Then, again.
 And again.
 And again…
 If I didn’t know any better, I’m fucking obsessed with her. Can’t even say it’s just for the money she’s paying me. Probably the best pussy I ever had.
 No. 
 It is. 
 So fucking warm, and she takes dick well, too. I usually give only an hour or two to my customers, but for Y/N? I reserved the whole night to relish her pussy. 
 The perfect fuck to end my day. 
 Those soft, sweet-sounding moans that slipped through her full brown and pink lips, having my previous cum shot staining them had me running wild. 
 But it seems like I’m not the only one who’s sex drunk. 
 Cock is all on Y/N’s mind right now. Whimpering and crying how big I am and thanking me for giving her dick. Tears pricks those chestnut-colored hues and I’m in fucking awe. She’s so damn pretty. 
 “You know how gorgeous you look taking cock like this? Being a good fucking slut for me, princess?” I ask, being met with a nod and her moaning in response. 
 Y/N’s pussy talks to me. Wet noises spreading throughout the room while I have my arms hooked under the fold of her knees, fucking her recklessly to push past any intrusion. 
 She’s jumping with me every thrust I make, causing her tits to bounce obnoxiously. I take one of her nipples into my mouth and suck on them like it’s my last dying breath, hearing that sweet whimper. 
 I belong in Y/N’s pussy, and she belongs to me, too, the way she’s gripping my cock and milking me. All of her cream and wetness drips between us and down my balls, and it feels fucking amazing. Every time I experience her velvet walls, I find myself becoming more animalistic, hungry and territorial over someone who should only be seen as a client. 
 But fuck, something in me says I would go batshit crazy if I ever found out she had other motherfuckers experiencing this. 
 Knowing how she looks when sweat coats her beautiful brown skin. How it feels to stretch her out and make her adjust to you. Just thinking about it makes me pound into her deeper and more aggressively. 
 “Toji, baby, yes. This feels so good,” she purrs. “Like that. Keep fucking me like that.”
 I hum. “Yeah? This is what you wanted, right? Paid me to please this good pussy?”
 By all means, Y/N isn’t a virgin, but she told me she doesn’t have much experience and I can tell by how tight she is. 
 Our sounds of pleasure resonate in the air, and I call her my good girl, praising how perfect her pussy is, to be met with her squeezing me and watery brown eyes. 
 “Toji… Toji… Yes. God, yes.”
 “Keep using your words, pretty girl. Tell me how much you love my dick in your pussy,” I ordered softly.
 “I love it so much. It’s so big, baby,” she tells me, slurring her words because of her lips still being on mine. “You’re going to make me cum.”
 I clicked my tongue, shaking my head. “Not yet. Come taste yourself.”
 Without hesitation, Y/N slides down to her knees and starts sucking my dick. I hiss at her swallowing me and the warmth of her mouth. She doesn’t take her time when sucking me off, immediately circling her head and throating me. 
 “Hot fucking mouth made to suck dick, huh, pretty girl?” I firmly grabbed her chin so she could look at me. “Eyes up, sweetheart. Open up your throat for me like a good girl.” 
 Y/N hollows her cheeks and bobs her head fervently on my dick, tightening her lips around me. 
 She sucks dick so fucking good, better than any other woman I’ve been with. And I just know I’m bound to bust quickly if she keeps doing this shit. 
 My hand finds the back of Y/N’s head to grip and I buck my hips deeper into her mouth, ensuring I hit the back of her throat everytime. I’m a fucking mad man when I begin fucking the gorgeous face, especially when she’s looking up at me with those big brown eyes. 
 A spoiled brat, prim and shy, who’s spending daddy’s money to get fucked and folded by an old bastard like me. Think I fucking developed a kink for this type because of Y/N.
 I pumped into her mouth more aggressively until she began choking and gagging on my cock. Drool and precum coating her mouth in the process. 
 Any type of control Y/N tries to take, I push past it because I want to use that pretty little mouth of hers how I want. She needs to get her money’s worth when fucking with me. 
 “Going to fuck my cum deep down that throat of yours, and you’re going to swallow it. Got that?” She nods and I softly tap the side of her face. “That’s it. Keep those lips tight around me.” 
 “Toji, pl—please,” she slurs, causing me to chuckle. 
 “Hm, look at you. Trying so hard to talk to me while sucking my dick. It’s cute.” I slow down my quick thrusts, but replace them with more fervent ones, pushing me and her head down until my cock outlines her throat. 
 My balls grow heavy and obnoxiously slaps Y/N’s chin, a clear indication I’m about to fucking cum. 
 Grunting, whining, gasping like a little bitch for air because head like this has a fucker like me sounding like a broken mess. 
 Blood rushes to my groin and I start getting sloppy, feeling my muscles tightening and ache burning between my thighs. I’m close, so fucking close to filling her mouth with my release, then I can finish fucking that fat pussy. 
 Everything about this damn woman is perfect. Her pussy. How she sucks cock. That fucking chubby and curvy body of hers. A pretty face with loaded cash.
 Yeah, she’s definitely mine after tonight. And I’m talking about anything lovey dovey. Meaning if I catch her being a slut like this to anyone else, I’d kill that fucker. 
 No hesitation. I-
 “Y/N, fuck!” I grunt while cumming in her mouth. This load is fucking heavy, but she’s trying her best to swallow every drop. 
 I groan at the sight of Y/N touching her tits and palming her pussy, knowing how much she’s turned on, too. It’s like the vibrations of her moans pulls more cum out my fucking dick.
 A mess I made on her face, but the joyful lust I see in her eyes tells me she doesn’t give a damn. 
 Good, because I’m not finished with her. 
 “All fours on the bed. Now,” I demanded. “Still gotta fill up your pussy.”
 Perfection is what I think when I see Y/N from behind, arched back, ass in the air and pussy dripping, ready for me to fuck. 
 I force an arch in her back and plunge my cock in her tight little pussy with one deep stroke. Y/N gasps in the air and I take the opportunity to pull her up by the throat and start pounding her cunt. 
 Why the fuck is she so goddamn wet? She takes cock well, bud shit, I abruptly slip out each and every thrust. 
 “Keep me inside that pussy, baby girl. Stop fucking letting go,” I gritted in her ear. She reaches behind her to hold my dick and push back into me with a tighter grip. “Hm, just like that. So fucking good to me, aren’t you?”
 “I need more dick, TJ. Fuck me harder, baby. I can take you,” she moans. 
 Begging for cock she’s already paying for… Shit, I get a kick out of how pathetically sexy she sounds. 
 I repeatedly slammed into her wet cunt, thrust after thrust, pussy creaming even further than before. If it’s one thing I can listen to for the rest of my life, it’s how Y/N sounds when she’s being fucked. 
 My name drips perfectly from her lips.
 Our skin smacking fills the air in the room along my hand striking her ass until I guarantee it’ll bruise in the morning. 
 “Look at this fat ass moving when I pound into this pussy. Fucking beautiful,” I growled.
 “Toji, please. I… I don’t care how much… I’ll pay more. Just keep fucking me like this.”
 I chuckle. “Atta girl.”
 I see why motherfuckers catch feelings when fucking pussy. I almost feel tempted to tell Y/N that I love her while fucking her. She has pussy that’ll make a fucker crazy… Possessive… Jealous.
 I applied more pressure to Y/N’s throat and pulled her against my chest. “You know who this pussy belongs to. Right, princess?”
 “God, yes, Toji. You… it belongs to you.” Her voice comes off as a faint cry and I know she’s on the verge of cumming. Especially with how her pussy is pulsating around me. 
 “Mhm, that’s right. Dreamed of my fucking dick pounding this tight little cunt, now I have you mindfucked. Huh?” I pinch her nipples with my free hand and increase my thrusts. “You’re about to come for me. Aren’t you, Y/N? I know you are. I can feel it. You should see the mess your slutty pussy is making between us.”
 “Fuck, I didn’t mean to, baby. It’s just… you feel good. So fucking good,” she whimpers, bouncing her ass back into me to meet with my thrusts. 
 “Maybe I should have you clean it with your mouth. Hm?”
 I release Y/N’s throat to shove her face into the bed and deepen her arch more than before. My single hand returns to her hips to grip, pulling her round ass back on my cock to kiss her center. 
 Can’t get over how wet—how tight and warm this fucking pussy is. The harder I fuck her, the louder her pussy gets and I grunt, curse underneath my breath at hearing the sound of her muffled moans. 
 I don’t give a fuck if one of us catches feelings after this. Actually, I want her to. I want Y/N to be dick hungry only for me. 
 I want her pussy to smell like I’m the only fucker that’s been running through her. I’m even fucking tempted to breed this pussy just so she’s mine.
 Why the fuck would I want to have sex with any other women after knowing what Y/N feels like? 
 “You take cock like a fucking pro. Look at you gripping me. Look at how this pussy is mine.”
 She spreads her ass cheeks to feel every inch of my dick. “Fuck me, Toji. Harder. Fuck me harder, I’m about to cum.”
 “Shit, me too, sweetheart. Such a perfect fuck toy. Going to fill you all the way up,” I rasped. “Fuck me back. Keep taking this dick.”
 My thrusts are sloppy. I throw my head back and swear into the air and moan her name. My balls grow heavier and heavier until I fucking but and empty my cum inside her pussy. 
 And she’s right there with me, crying my name and thanking me for giving her toe-curling orgasm. 
 Fucking enjoy hearing my pretty girl thank me for giving her cock. She just looks so damn pretty when she cums, too. 
 Dark brown skin sweating. The sight of her ruined makeup with mascara running down her cheeks. Moans sounding like a broken record. 
 Yeah, she’s a perfect fuck. 
 My favorite customer. 
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© 2024 tojiscumdumpster Do NOT copy, translate, plagiarize, repost (sharing links is okay) anywhere. I only upload on tumblr and you will find some of my work in ao3.
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gumycandyyy · 6 months
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୨♡ Winter King HCS ♡୧
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I am ashamed of tumblr for not making more fanfic of this funky fruit.
We got some general HCS and then some romantic ones under the cut! (I went a little overboard with the romantic ones, hehe!)
Gender-neutral
୨♡ General ♡୧
-Man's self care routine is off the charts
-I'm serious, he has like- 80 different bubble bath concoctions.
-Smells like mint
-or some kind of cold scent.
-I feel like he loves dressing up fancy, so he has a closet full of sparkly suits
-maybe even some dresses if he's feeling special.
-Doesn't actually need to wear glasses, he just likes how they look.
-While he loves his winter wonder world, I feel like he'd enjoy rainy weather more than snow.
-He got rid of all his madness and sadness, yes, but I think he'd cry at something especially cute. Happy tears, y'know?
"Why are you crying, sir? Are you okay?" "Oh, it's nothing. *sniff* Just those two rabbits that are cuddling."
-He is really bad at any percussion instrument
-like.. REALLY bad.
-His hands are too delicate for such a garish instrument as the drums!
-He loves playing duets on the piano, but rarely has anyone to play with.
-I mean, he could always concoct up an ice creature to play piano with him, but that's honestly quite dull.
-His favorite movie would probably be an old Christmas movie, like It's a Wonderful Life.
-He gets kidnapped by the Candy Queen so often, that occasionally he brings a book or something snuggly to help him wait for his ice scouts to rescue him.
-He once got so bored while kidnapped that he tried to read to some of the mutilated candy people
-That was the last time he saw his favorite book.
-Safe to say he doesn't bring his favorites anymore.
୨♡ Romantic ♡୧
-Will literally spoil his love interest rotten.
-You want that thing you saw earlier?
-Consider it yours
-You'd like for it to snow outside?
-A sprinkle or a blizzard?
-Literally anything, this man will go to the ends of the universe to get you what you'd like.
-Love languages are definitely gift giving and physical touch
-probably acts of service too.
-Loves dancing.
-Loves dancing.
-Whether it be a slow dance or ice-skating, he will take every opportunity to dance with you!
-He adores short people.
-Good, because he's tall as a giant.
-if you're shorter than him, he will no doubt use you as an armrest.
-He always makes remarks on how cute you are.
-Even if you're only two inches shorter than him.
-If you're taller...
-hoo boy.
-Expect him to be all over you.
-figuratively and literally.
-Will want you to carry him everywhere, sit in your lap, rest against you, whatever.
-Just let him touch you.
-He'll talk about how strong you are, how you'd be the perfect chair, etc. etc.
-He does the stupid "How's the weather up there?" jokes.
-Loves your body, no matter what it looks like.
-You're skinny?
-You're easy to carry around and dance with.
-You're chubby or fat?
-Literally will always be holding onto or resting on part of you. He loves squishy people.
-Somewhere in the middle?
-He could not care less. He loves you regardless of what you look like.
-And he makes sure to emphasize his point by complimenting you endlessly.
-He will never leave your side.
-Even if you need space, he doesn't.
-So why wouldn't you?
-Back to our regularly scheduled fluff-
-Candy Queen hates your guts.
-She thinks you're an obstacle, keeping her from the Winter King.
-No doubt tries to kill you.
-Multiple times. a day
-Her plans are always foiled, but if she gets too close to genuinely hurting you, Winter will be so upset.
"Oh, Dearest, please tell me you're okay!" "You are?" "Phew. I don't know what I'd do if you were hurt in any way."
-His petnames for you are probably
-Darling,
-Dearest,
-My love,
-There are a lot more, but those are the main ones.
-LOVES kissing you.
-Anytime, any way.
-He finds it adorable when his nose bumps your face.
-Favorite place to kiss would probably be the back of your hand.
-He is a gentleman after all.
-Overall, he just adores you.
-And he sincerely hopes you love him just as much as he does you.
Headcanon requests are open for Winter King! Don't be afraid to send an ask, and be shameless! I know I am! (No smut tho. Some spice is okay, however.)
Have some free WK art for coming this far!
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reblog for a beginner writer?
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A long overdue update:
Hi everyone. Long time no see. I literally have not opened Tumblr since the last time I posted here. Hope everyone is doing ok. Figured I owed y’all an apology and explanation for kinda just vanishing.
First, I did in fact get a car! It’s a 2015 Nissan Versa Note. I don’t particularly like it but a friend gave me a deal on it that I couldn’t turn down. Once my life stabilizes I’m probably going to sell it and buy an old truck, maybe a 70s Ford. I’d love a little sports car or a land yacht but rear wheel drive is a bit impractical for brutal New England winters, and the Jeep really put me in Old American Truck Mode. But yes I have a car now!
Second, unfortunately this is an official notice of hiatus. When I last posted saying I was taking some time off it was because I had just had an incredibly stressful move and did not have the energy to keep this blog up. I figured I’d take some time to get settled in, relax, and then pick this back up after a week or two, but the last month has been really rough - the short version is one of the people I was living with turned out to be a pretty horrendous human being who managed to get everybody living in the house essentially kicked out via sheer drama. Within a month and a half. It’s a long story but tl:dr if you quite literally slander a property manager with heavy unfounded accusations of horrible crimes, they’ll probably bail from the whole situation. And since they’re gone the landlord has to hand ownership of everything over to a company that’s forcing everyone still here to vacate. I’m now fighting to not have to live in aforementioned Nissan Versa through the aforementioned brutal New England winter. On top of that, I’m a retail manager so we’re going into our busiest most stressful season, so that’s been an extra level of exhaustion.
So what does that mean for this blog? Well, as I said, I’m officially going on indefinite hiatus, as are the projects I was working on in relation, including the reference website. I’m really sorry, I’m just way too stressed and dealing with way too much. If I could, I would just hand off administrative power to someone else, but this is a sideblog so I can’t hand off login credentials without also giving access to my main/personal account. It’s my biggest regret of this account, but when I started it I never expected it to blow up the way it did back in September - I had no reason to expect to need it to be its own entirely separate blog. I love what I was doing here and I thought that it might even be a nice distraction from everything going on, but the upkeep required with this blog is just more than I can deal with right now. I hope that things settle down soon and that I can genuinely come back here and enjoy what I was doing, but I just need literally anything to level out in my real life and to not be in 100% survival mode, because at the moment I literally do not have the energy to pour into this.
Anyway. Sorry for the long post, I’m not good at not being overly verbose. I’m really sorry for kind of abandoning this project, and I hope I can get back to it relatively soon, it just might be a while.
In the mean time, I hope those of y’all who I turned onto cars as a potential hobby find some other good outlets! I highly recommend Donut Media’s series “Up to Speed” on YouTube, as well as the channels Regular Car Reviews, Doug DeMuro, Garbage Time, and Aging Wheels. All great YouTube channels that are both informative and very approachable and fun.
Godspeed and much love. Hope to see y’all soon
- Identifying Cars in Posts admin ❤️
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wineauntie · 3 months
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ALWAYS AN ANGEL (never a god) — the hughes brothers x hughes sister!reader
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summary: In which, Hughes sister!reader often feels like the black sheep of her family and eventually it all becomes too much for her to keep hidden.
PART TWO HERE
note: This is my first ever imagine on tumblr and the only one I’ve written about the Hughes brothers so please literally any feedback is welcomed with open arms 🙏
warnings: reader is the youngest sister, female reader, use of Y/N, use of nicknames like; honey, Angel and sweetheart, awkward dinner confrontations, reader is often full of doubt with the crippling need to please those around her before herself in this. Reader is also a little jealous of her brothers from time to time.
word count: 3.9k words
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One of the most frequent things you've heard over the past few years was praise for your older brothers.
Typically it would go along the lines of; "Oh, Quinn made captain, you must be so proud!", "Jack and Luke are looking incredible lately, you must be so excited for them!", "Your brothers' are killing it right now, you're so lucky to be related to them!"
Most times you didn't feel very lucky.
That sounds rather harsh, upon reflection. The unmovable truth was that you loved your brothers more than life. They were pivotal parts of your making; indestructible forces ready to care for you and protect you through anything, big or small. They were willing to combat anything to ensure that your smile remained on your face at any given time. They were your older brothers and you couldn't even begin to imagine a world in which they didn't exist, in which they didn't tease, mock and love you.
But sometimes, you just wished people could find it within themselves to separate you from them when the time called for it. Another recurrent theme you've noticed over the last couple of years was that any achievement you made, whether it be academic or simply lying elsewhere, had a tendency to be accidentally overshadowed or overlooked by so many people in your life.
Your Mom and Dad tried their hardest to ensure you the importance of your hard work but sometimes, just sometimes, you had a horrible suspicion that perhaps their support was just out of pity. You were different from your family, everyone knew it and you embraced it. You were the only one out of the entire family to not play hockey beyond your childhood and despite being the youngest, you'd watched your older brothers, even Luke, who was only a year senior, falling even more deeply and madly in love with the sport. You, however, had stepped out onto the ice for the first time as a fresh-faced four-year-old and knew almost instantly that it wasn't the sport for you, but you'd never voiced that feeling until you were eleven.
You could remember that day so vividly, the day when you'd let it slip that you didn't want to play anymore. At the time it had been the most terrifying thing you'd ever thought of doing.
EIGHT YEARS AGO
It was dinner time in the Hughes household and all four kids had jolted at the sound of their parents calling them for dinner. Jack had led the pack in a stampede down the stairs, his fourteen-year-old legs bounding forward to win a race only he was participating in. Twelve-year-old Luke had followed suit, racing towards the dining table, not in competition, but in what he would describe as "starvation like that one ad on TV talked about". Quinn, at sixteen, had long decided he was far more responsible than his younger counterparts and walked down the stairs just a little behind the rowdy pair ahead.
You, at eleven, moved much slower than all of your brothers. You'd had a hockey match that morning in which you'd ended up crashing headfirst into the boards. It hadn't hurt, not with the helmet on your head, but it had been the last straw. Tonight was the night. The night you were going to finally tell your parents that hockey wasn't for you. That the sport was enjoyable but only if you were watching from the sidelines.
Your hands were trembling, your teeth biting down hard on your lip, so hard you thought it might burst any second. You couldn't find it within yourself to stop. It soothed the nerves that had begun to build. Your family loved hockey, they breathed it. You wouldn't be surprised if they all ran tactics and strategy in their dreams.
You walked into the dining room with your shoulders hunched and head bowed as you made your way towards your usual seat between Quinn and Luke. If your brothers had noticed your odd behaviour all day, they hadn't voiced it. You kind of wished they would just so it would get the ball rolling.
Dinner was laid out in front of you almost tauntingly. Tonight's dish was pasta, ever so conveniently shaped in the various shapes of a hockey stick, a helmet, and a skate. Your brothers grinned at the shape of the food, whilst your mom and dad laughed in amusement.
"I found them earlier down in the shop," Ellen Hughes beamed, as she looked amongst her children. "Thought they might make dinner interesting!"
"It does, Mom," Jack grinned in approval as he shovelled a forkful of it into his mouth. You had yet to even pick up your utensil, you just stared at your dish in silence.
"Y/N, honey, is your head hurting from earlier?"
Your mom's voice almost made your straight face slip. You lifted your gaze slightly letting it fall on your mother's worried yet comforting eyes. You opened your mouth slightly but words failed you. You resorted to just shaking your head before looking down.
"Why would her head be hurting?" Quinn questioned defensively, as he looked between you and Mom. You hunched your shoulders further into yourself as the attention on you was now a lasting event.
"She hit the boards earlier, head on," Jim Hughes supplied, swallowing his mouthful of food. He had had the day off and jumped to accompany her to the game. "Hard enough too, but the little soldier got right back up."
You hadn't.
You had laid there for a solid fifty-four seconds brimming with brewing hatred.
"You hit the boards?" Luke snorted, his teasing eyes on your small figure. This was regular joking for the family. They would all mess around and laugh about things that went wrong with anyone, it wasn't out of the ordinary, but tonight?
Oh, tonight this teasing was just piling onto your problem.
"Someone tried to take the puck," Your dad continued mindless of the storm generating inside of you. "It clicked almost immediately for her though and she passed the puck perfectly. All she did was just miscalculate the distance between her standing and the board's closeness, and even then she was fantastic."
Your dad's words should've been comforting. Usually, you would burn with bashfulness at the praise. Your brothers snickered at the image they created of you falling into the boards and before you knew it you could barely hear them. All you could hear was white noise whereas all you could see was vibrant and hot red when you looked down at your plate.
"Sweetheart, when's your next game?" Your mom's kind voice broke through the noise, as she picked up some more food with her fork.
"IWANNAQUITHOCKEY!" You suddenly burst out, causing your family to jump at the volume of your words. Your heart was beating frantically, your hands wringing on your lap. You looked guiltily towards your mom and dad with a nervous gulp.
"Wha' dif' fou 'ay?" Luke asked through a mouth full of pasta, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. For you, the heat in the room rose and engulfed you in fiery waves of nerves as you glanced between your brothers and your parents.
"I want to quit hockey..."
PRESENT DAY
You had remembered the silence that had followed. Your parents ahead exchanged a look as they set down their forks and asked you to explain why. Once you'd begun explaining, you'd burst into tears, all of the pent-up stress and years of pushing yourself to fall in love with the sport only to fail came spilling out.
Your parents had jumped into action at your tearful display and granted the boys permission to finish their dinner in front of the TV in the living room. Once they'd left, your parents had sat down on the empty chairs beside you and immediately began to try to calm you with soothing arm and hair strokes and whispers of "c'mon, steady breaths now, you're okay".
You had continued to sob as you explained all of your feelings over the years. You had even admitted in your bleary state that you were scared your parents wouldn't like you anymore because you didn't like hockey. You had remembered the heartbroken look they'd both given you as they doubtlessly reassured you that no matter what you chose to do at any stage in life, they would forever love you. Your mom had cradled you in her arms, whilst your dad had continued to run his hand through your hair as you tried to calm yourself down.
And so, you stopped playing hockey while your brothers only flourished and fell deeper into the depths of adoration for it.
As the years passed your love and knack for academics— notably English and history, encompassed your life and filled you with everything you've ever craved. You threw yourself into your studies, your spare time spent reading books from the library or curled up watching too many David Attenborough nature documentaries for your family's liking.
You thrived in high school managing to maintain a 4.0 GPA. You worked various jobs over the years, from stacking shelves in the local library to making and serving coffee in a cafe near your home. Your mom had once teased that if you hadn't worked and kept out of the house you would've studied yourself to death.
By the time you were a senior, Luke, Jack and Quinn had all been drafted to the NHL and you couldn't have been prouder. You had attended all of their drafts, excitement rolling off of you as you clutched your brothers in such tight hugs they thought they might never breathe quite right again. You were overjoyed that they were able to translate their passion for hockey into the skills needed to succeed and to watch their happiness thrive only made it all the better.
Everything ran so smoothly...that is until people couldn't disassociate you from your brothers. You were thrown into the deep end once all three of your brothers had been picked in the draft. You had been the victim of fake friendships, relationships, and people, in general, trying to be close to you in order to be any inch closer to the famed Hughes boys. Towards the end of high school, their looming presence in almost every conversation agitated you.
It was as if they were the sun, blazing and vital to so many aspects of life. Whereas, you, on the other hand, felt like Pluto in their solar system, small, insignificant and not even important enough to remain a planet.
Nevertheless, you had what you loved within your grasp, it didn't matter what you were in regards to their standings, your talents lay elsewhere and there was no denying it.
You had graduated as Valedictorian with your parents watching proudly in the stands. Quinn had also been there, a pleasant surprise on your half considering he had played a game late the night before. Yet he'd flown home for you, to watch you walk the stage and you had almost giggled in glee. As Luke and Jack on the flip side, had a game the day of your graduation and couldn't miss it. You had reassured them that it was alright (no matter how disappointed and upset it actually made you feel).
After the ceremony, with your diploma in hand, you'd walked towards the stands, your eyes scanning for your parents and brother amongst the buzzing crowds. Conversations swirled with laughter and yelps as students reunited with their families and friends.
"You know that girl–the valedictorian? She's the one whose brothers play for the NHL,"
Your ears had instantaneously perked at the mention, and a heavy, unsettling pit began to form as unease churned in your stomach. You had faltered in your tracks at the words, your ears straining to listen for any other snippets of the conversation.
"Oh, the valedictorian! I thought I saw Quinn Hughes up in the stands, I thought it was my imagination."
Disappointment and what could only be embarrassment had crashed over her as you listened to the conversation continue. They hadn't been able to even remember your name despite it being mentioned more than a few times on the stage, yet of course, they knew your brother, who was one of hundreds in the crowd.
A sudden bout of envy had gripped your heart as you tried to blink away welling tears. This had been your day. Your day. You hadn't worked so hard to be forgotten so easily.
"Angel!" your delighted, yet teary-eyed mom had pushed through the crowd to engulf you in a massive hug. "My baby is all grown up!" You had plastered a smile on your face as you wrapped your arms around her to hold her close.
Your dad was next to be hugged, his big hand had ruffled your hair as he bore a wonky smile and cracked voice whilst telling you how proud he was.
And finally, Quinn had squeezed you to death, his tight grip holding you as he practically spun you around, your feet brushing the floor. You had let a laugh break your moping, as you clutched at your eldest brother's shoulders.
"Your speech was incredible," he mumbled from above you, as your head rested against his shoulder. "I had Luke and Jack on FaceTime the entire time."
You felt your cheeks grow warm as you tried to hide your sheepish smile. As you swivelled your head, however, you had spotted not one but three separate people with phones pointed towards you and your brother. Your smile had instantly dropped and you wiggled in his grip until he'd let go, his eyebrows furrowed as you tried to change the topic of conversation.
And just like that the excitement of the day had dimmed.
You loved your brothers but they would always be gods in everyone's eyes. But you'd only ever amount to an Angel— touched by divinity, loved by so many but never quite good enough and absolutely never equal to the power of gods.
The day of your graduation had only been evidence of such. You'd never be able to escape the shadows of your brothers no matter how hard you worked, no matter how much you yearned to.
That summer, you fell into a slump of sorts. Your usual cheery smiles and bright eyes had been dulled. You weren't outwardly rude or dismissive but you talked less, participated in family activities less, finding excuses left, right and centre to avoid socialising. Your stack of books that usually were reread every summer lay untouched, covered in a very thin layer of dust. Your family had noticed your change as soon as the slump had started.
They just thought it would go away within a week or so.
Mom had spoken to you too many times to count asking if you were alright and if she could help with anything, you'd simply waved your hand and denied that anything was wrong.
Your brothers had tried too.
Luke had tried to get you to play video games with him, play pool, go to the mall with him, yet you conveniently always had other plans to attend to. Jack had tried to get you to come to the country club and play golf with him, or at least sit in a golf cart reading so that he could talk away with you whilst he played and yet, you refused, claiming you weren't feeling well.
Avoiding Quinn had been the most difficult task. As the eldest and you the youngest, he always felt more protective over you than over your wild other brothers. With five years between each other, Quinn was the one you naturally leaned towards during any inconvenience. He'd been the first you'd called when you'd accidentally gotten drunk off of alcohol-spiked juice at seventeen and had panicked when you couldn't find your friends. He'd stayed on call until your mom had arrived and you were safely tucked inside her car. He'd been the one you'd run to when you were little and had nightmares, and he'd let you bury yourself in his bed covers beside him, with mumbled words of comfort as you shook. He'd been the one who'd refused to leave your side when you'd been bedbound with a bad case of the flu when you were nine, reading stories to you and keeping you company in the solitude of sickness.
He'd been the one you'd tried your hardest to not spend time around because you knew that if he went digging into your out-of-character behaviour, you would break and spill everything in seconds.
Since hockey was in the off-season, you'd seen your brothers more often than not. They'd spent the last month in the same house as you and your parents, it was getting harder and harder for you to continually bypass all of their offers to hang out.
A sudden knock on your bedroom door caused your head to snap towards the door where Luke had sheepishly stuck his head in through the door's gap. You shuffled in your spot underneath the blanket you'd surrounded yourself in as you had curled up on your bed, despite the warmth of the outside air.
"Mom said dinner is on the table," he yawned, before pushing your door open for you to follow and disappearing from the door. You stretched out your limbs, placing your book on your bedside table as you unfurled. Your tired eyes blinked slowly whilst you forced your body to trek downstairs.
Everyone's eyes seemed to follow you as you silently entered the room, not that you noticed as you slunk towards your seat and slumped down into the wooden chair with your head down. You stared blankly at the plate before you looked towards your mom and forced a small smile.
"It looks good, Mom, thanks," you nodded towards your mom before looking back at your plate. Your fingers twirled the fork around as you began to eat slowly. Noticing the growth of an uncomfortable silence, you raised your eyes, only to meet your entire family's gaze. "...what?"
"Y/N, angel, we need to talk," your mom began soothingly, glancing towards your dad almost nervously. Your eyebrows furrowed as you placed your fork down, your hands dropping to your lap.
"About...what exactly?"
"Y/N, what's going on with you?" Your dad suddenly asked, causing your mom to carefully nudge him. "You've been distant, and locking yourself up in your room for the summer."
"I haven't been distant," you denied, pushing yourself further back into the comfort of your seat. You could feel your brothers' eyes piercing you from where they sat.
"That's a lie," Jack scoffed as he swallowed a forkful of food. You shot him a blazing look, your eyes narrowed and as sharp as knives.
"You're not yourself, Y/N," Quinn added cautiously, his eyes flitting around your face to try to gauge your emotions. "You've been making excuses all summer not to spend time with any of us. We miss you, Y/N and...we want to help you, you just gotta let us know what's wrong."
You looked down at your hands as you bit down on your lip to suppress the trembling that threatened to wrack through your body. Luke glanced down at his plate before he leaned forward towards you.
"Y/N, we can help you now, we have the time, hockey doesn't start—"
Don't," your voice seemed unfamiliar to even yourself as iciness weaved its way into your words. "Not now."
"What do you mean?" Luke retorted as he scrunched his eyebrows in bewilderment. "All I said was—"
"Everything has to revolve around hockey." You hadn't meant for the dam to burst and release the waves of frustration and upset but there was no stopping the course it was now paving. "It always has been and always probably will. Every dinner conversation starts the same, every text, every call and I understand why...But life isn't all about hockey."
"I don't..." Luke shook his head and looked towards his brothers for support. His softened and baffled voice filled your heart with a tinge of guilt, but your heart wasn't in control of your words, your mind's bitterness was the one with the reins. "I don't get why that's a problem..?"
"Because you don't realise how out of place it puts me." Your eyes burned with the vicious sting of unshed tears as you began to fall and stumble into a panicked ramble. "And I know I've never said anything about it, but do you know how much of a black sheep I feel like? I mean I chose to give up hockey, I chose to focus my mind elsewhere, so it really has nothing to do with you guys; but when it's constant hockey talk?... I have nothing to say. I have nothing to add, and I feel boxed in...I feel wrong, as if I was some faulty add-on you got landed with."
"You are not faulty, Y/N!" Your mom cut in sharply, her eyes now tinged with sadness.
"Two hundred and three," You bypassed your mom's saddened gaze as you focused on your brothers.
“What?" Jack shrivelled his nose as you spoke.
"Two hundred and three games, ceremonies, and hockey-related events I have attended in order to support you." You explain, whilst your eyes darted from brother to brother. "To support all of you and those are only the ones I can remember."
"Y/N, angel…”
Your dad's calming attempt to soothe you permeated your ramble and only filled you with an indescribable rage.
Always "angel".
Always a goddamn angel.
"Six." You continued, your fists clenched so tightly that the bite of your fingernails embedded deep into your palms. "Six times in my life, you three have managed to make it to an event of mine or ceremony. It goes down to two if you only include events, where all three of you were in attendance."
"The truth is no matter how much I convince myself I'm not an outsider, no matter how much I succeed in life and have every glory at my fingertips, it'll never be enough. No matter the circumstances, people will always find a way to undermine my success to boast about yours. How unfair is that?”
The tears, now unstoppable, rolled down your heated cheeks, leaving a wet trail as your family watched and listened to your cracking voice.
"Every big milestone in my life people twisted it to frame you guys in the foreground. All I wanted was to be great– be so great that, for once, people could separate me from a crowd without it being about my brothers. For years, I got the highest grades, worked locally, tutored, volunteered, and yet my only legacy will be that I have three older brothers whom, to everyone else, I will never measure up to."
"So, after years of trying to ignore the truth and deny it, I realised that there's no possible way I'll ever amount to the Hughes name, I'll never be great and I'll never be able to be like you. And it's...it's a terrifying thought to know you were intended for greatness but destined to fail."
Your tears blurred your vision as a heavy stillness settled over the Hughes family dinner table. Another second passed before regret crashed into your very being and settled amongst the chaos. Your hand flew to your mouth once you'd finished talking, the complete reality of what had happened hitting you full force as your body shook in adrenaline.
"I...I'm," Your horrified eyes scanned the table before you jumped to your feet. "I'm sorry...I'm really...the food was really good, Mom, but I'm, uh...not really hungry anymore." And before anyone could protest you scrambled out of the room, leaving your family to watch you flee.
Anyway, let me know what you think…also part 2 might be coming 🙏
928 notes · View notes
heesdreamer · 1 year
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skin on skin
PAIRING ➩ jake x reader
GENRE ➩ religious corruption au, church boy jake au, evil reader
WARNINGS ➩ heavy criticism of religion in an extreme exaggerated manner, manipulation, multiple smut scenes, the mc is straight up mean and evil and says mean things all the time lol. parental and spousal abuse… think that’s it maybe lol it’s an intense read
WC ➩ 20.4k (😵‍💫)
AUTHORS NOTE ➩ the spacing is a bit weird because apparently this exceeded the length amount in tumblr… i don’t care about your think pieces on religion or the way it’s discussed in this so please don’t try to educate me on the actual ways of christianity! it’s a story! that being said this is in no way making a mockery of jake and his religion. this is my favorite story ive ever done and i had a good time writing it which is rare lately so i really hope you enjoy it and if you make it to the end let me know what you think! hope you like it as much as i do
It wasn’t like you came out of the womb with horns and a little forked tail.
The nurses didn’t scream in terror and your mother didn’t faint at the sight of you, it wasn’t some grand discovery that anybody could see or anybody could plan for.
You made it through your formative years relatively normal, or at least as normal as you could be considering who your father was. But it wasn’t until middle school when you realized how different kids would treat you because of this.
Those were your favorite years you could remember. The half decade before anybody cared, or knew enough to care, what it meant for you to be who you were. Then you were old enough to have consciousness and design your own set of morals, something all the parents in your town dreaded.
Your town was barely that, more so a few neighborhoods sprawled across barren lands with more fields and trees than concrete and signs of the modern world that had seemingly developed everywhere, except for where you’d been born.
Sometimes you wondered if you’d been cursed to stay here forever. It seemed like everybody who was born here, died here, but unlike you they all seemed pretty content with this fact. Proud even, the elders stating the amount of years and generations they’d own their rusty old homes like it didn’t create a nasty pit in your stomach.
Time was frozen and the world had moved on, leaving all 2,000 of you behind to die and birth and die again until eventually the last generation killed themselves off in an act of sympathy, a mercy slaughter.
It was probably immoral to be thinking about your entire town dying whilst in church. But you didn’t think much about the implication of having sinful thoughts anywhere, regardless of how many crosses were currently burning stares into your back.
More than 70% of your life was spent inside these four walls, on this exact weathered seat on this same old pew.
See, when turned 12 years old and the kids at school made you aware of the fact your dad was the lead preacher at the only church in town, you figured this made you some sort of royalty.
Not once did you feel the overwhelming holy presence of god that everybody else seemed to be experiencing everyday after school and work when you all settled in together to listen to your fathers teachings.
You’d sit with a scowl on your face, turning around in the front row pew reserved for the preachers family and you’d observe the people around you. You knew everybody in your town, some more than others, but you always thought people looked different when they prayed.
The nice man who worked at the grocery store looked far more guilty and weathered with his eyes closed and the angry woman two blocks away who yelled at the kids riding their bikes too close to her sprinklers, looked peaceful like she was talking to an old friend.
Your mother would hiss under her breath in an attempt to catch your attention, sending soft pinches to your thighs until you’d begrudgingly turn back in your seat and plop down in your puffy dress, tuning out the sound of your fathers loud voice.
Looking back on it now, your mother seemed to notice the dark parts of you brewing before you even did. The two of you never saw eye to eye and despite the fact you were her only child, much to her dismay considering they tried for years after your birth to have another but to no avail, she never treated you with any sort of motherly warmth or kindness.
She’d glare at you from across the dinner table while her and your father conjoined hands and thanked the lord for the meal that your mother had cooked. You’d started to sit on your hands at dinner when you were 7 years old and what once was a cute misbehaving habit quickly became the warning sign of your future endeavors.
Still, part of being the preachers family was playing an act. So you’d all get up early in the mornings and wordlessly move around the house like the backstage of a play, dressing the part and giving bright smiles to each family that walked through the doorway on Sunday morning.
Your mother would stand behind you with a long stretched out smile, hands on your thin shoulders as she dug her nails down every time she felt you tense up at a greeting.
Then you were 16 and for the first time in your life, you heard her voice the thing you’d always assumed she believed. You stood in the hallway in your nightgown, standing stiff as a board to avoid the creaking wood of your old house, peering around a dimly lit corner to hear your parents conversation more clearly.
“She hasn’t done anything wrong Mary.” Your fathers rough low voice was flowing in your direction, sounding tired and agitated. You could vaguely hear the sounds of his rough hands rubbing over his unshaven scruff in frustration.
“She will.” Your mother sounded panicked and alert, desperate for him to understand her case. “I can’t explain it but she has this darkness in her, I’ve felt it ever since I was pregnant.”
Your breath caught in your throat as they spoke, understanding now they were referring to you. You were only slightly surprised, no grand feelings of fear or betrayal arising.
That nights conversation had ended with your mother in a fit of tears and your father uttering words of reassurance in an attempt to calm her down as you used the sounds of her loud sobs to sneak back to your room, getting under the covers and blowing out the candles by the time your father was opening your door to insure you were in bed.
He’d stood there for a few minutes, the door cracked with his hand on the knob. Do this day you wondered what he was waiting for. Maybe he was expecting you to talk in your sleep or he was trying to get some sense of the evil your mother was spewing about, but eventually you heard his tired sigh and the door shutting.
It’d been three years now since that conversation and you still hadn’t fully understood the evil your mother was referring to. You didn’t believe in god, that much had been clear to you from a very early age but you didn’t believe in the devil either.
You didn’t feel things maybe you should be feeling, sadness when an elder passed away unexpectedly or happiness when a new baby was born into the community. You didn’t feel pain when your mother shot you looks of disgust and you only felt slight jolts of satisfaction when she leapt in fear every time you entered a quiet room.
The seed of evil that was apparently inside of you never bloomed, no matter how much you waited for its arrival.
Until the day the Sim’s arrived to town.
It was extremely rare for somebody to move out of your hometown, and you’d been instructed to never speak about the families that left, to let yourself forget their names and faces. Forget any interaction you’d had with them now that they were gone.
But you’d never once contemplated the fact that it was possible to move here willingly. It hadn’t occurred to you that somebody would choose this place to live and that they’d be allowed to stay peacefully, and especially not given a grand welcome.
So you felt yourself uncharacteristically thrown off guard as you found yourself at church on a Saturday, typically your only day you weren’t required to be here. You’d spend these days down by the creek or riding around the abandoned section of town on your bike, trying to find something interesting to see.
As you stood near the stage, where your fathers podium was perfectly centered and polished, greeting the usual faces with a forced smile, your eyes landed on the most interesting sight you’d ever seen.
The Sim’s were a direct mirror of your family as they stood in front of you. Only three of them, a tall man giving your father a sturdy handshake and laughing like old friends and a small meek woman who was holding your mothers hand in both of hers, a thankful smile on her face.
Placed directly in front of you was a boy, seemingly your age, shifting back and forth on his feet as he waited for you to initiate any form of greeting.
There was people your age in town, your graduating class held 25 kids and over half of them were girls, daughters that were considered blessings for their special ability to continue on your towns population. You’d met boys, few handsome but handsome none the less but nobody who looked like the one standing in front of you.
He was taller than you, peering down at you from behind thin framed glasses and about double your width. You imagined you were hidden behind his shoulders to the view of the people stood in line behind him, waiting to greet your family.
His skin was tanned, something that you imagined wouldn’t last long considering you weren’t sure your town was blessed by the sun at all, almost constantly grey and dreary looking even in the peak of summer.
You took your time observing the boy, not feeling any sense of urgency at the knowledge people were watching and waiting, not even at the fact your mother was stood directly next to you and you could feel her stare on the side of your face. Her loss of attention seemed to make the boys mother nervous and she placed her hands on his shoulders.
“And this is our son, Jake.” She was chirping out and you almost wanted to laugh at how desperate she seemed to impress your family. The boy, Jake, was looking at you still for a second before his eyes shot to your mother and he gave her a nervous smile. “He’s shy at first but he’s a very good boy.”
His eyes flicked back over to yours as she spoke and your mouth quirked up in a small smile, finally sticking out your hand in offering to him.
You felt a strange feeling build up inside you, splattering against your ribs and painting your insides with something deep and powerful. As you held his hand in yours, your eyes caught onto your mothers and you could see the fear crossing over her expression at her own realization.
“Hi Jake.”
And the seed bloomed.
——
It wasn’t more than 30 seconds after your father finished his last word, the remains of it still echoing throughout the room underneath the chorus of ‘amen’s, that your mother was gripping your arm and dragging you back into his office space.
She closed the door swiftly and you yanked your arm out of her grip with a scowl, staring at her for an explanation about her sudden behavior despite having a slight inkling of what she was about to say to you.
“You can’t.” She spoke vaguely, an angry desperation in her voice like you were a feral dog with a hungry look in its eye.
“What are you talking about?” You lowered your agitation, doing your best impression of a confused and fearful daughter. She scoffed at your expression and held a hand to her mouth like she was genuinely amazed at your audacity.
“You leave that boy alone Y/N, or so help me God.” She was shaking her head at you and you felt a surge of annoyance at her tone, her voice shaky and weak.
You thought she was slightly pathetic. She’d spent her entire life treating you like the devil, implying your evil and avoiding you at all cost but the second you finally start to understand her concern and she’s immediately turned to pleading and bargaining. There was no fun in this for you.
Soft knocks against the door caught her attention and she looked over your shoulder, trying to ignore the fact you were still staring at her and not bothering to turn and face whoever had entered.
“Go home and get dinner started.” Your fathers voice was entering the room now in a hushed whisper, like somebody was still outside behind him. “We are going to have a welcome meal with the new residents.”
Your mothers eyes shot back in your direction at his words, like she was begging you to remember her previous warning and you offered her a small smirk before turning to face your father with a toothy grin, expression changing now.
“Of course father, whatever you need.”
——
You’d ignored your mothers glare the entire time you worked on dinner together, setting the table casually and changing into a less formal dress that gained a thumbs up of approval from your father.
When the Sim’s arrived, you greeted them similarly to how you did at church except your mother made sure to shake Jake’s hand for a prolonged amount of time so you couldn’t, only breaking apart when your father cleared his throat and ushered you all towards the polished dining room.
He took his seat at the head of the table and you briefly wondered what type of man Jake’s father was. He was larger than your dad, much larger and you noticed a hint of irritation in his face when he took a seat on the side. You imagined he sat similarly to your father at his own house and didn’t find great pleasure in the new arrangement.
There was three seats on each side and your mother had rushed to take a middle seat next to you, attempting to block anybody else from being seated beside you.
However your father cleared his throat subtly and sent the both of you a small glare, confused at the fact she hadn’t adorned her usual seat next to him. You were sure he realized it would be strange for her to sit a seat away from him, making them look distant or troubled.
She sent you a small angry look but shifted over a space so she was now sat in her usual place, leaning an empty chair between the two of you.
An empty chair that was soon taken by Jake, his mother sending him an encouraging smile and giving him a slight nudge in your direction. You remembered what she said about him being shy, not hiding the fact she was trying to create a friendship between the two of you.
His mothers face angered you more than your own. She was small and weak looking, constantly smiling with wide eyes like she was waiting to drop into a conversation at any time to force a connection, yet she rarely did throughout dinner. For the most part she stayed silent, nodding along obediently every time her husband spoke.
So you kept your attention on the boy for the most part, figuring the adults were too busy kissing eachothers ass’s to care about what the two silent teenagers were doing at the end of the table.
You knew he could feel the way you were watching him, sending you small glances out of the side of his eye and shifting uncomfortably in his seat every time he realized you were still looking.
He really was handsome you were deciding. You’d never really paid attention to boys before, understanding the difference between being attractive and not but it didn’t have any affect on you. You liked the slope of his nose and the way his throat bobbed with every nervous gulp he took.
Your father was seemingly noticing your mutual disinterest in the conversation, you watching Jake and him watching his empty plate. “Y/N honey, why don’t you take Jake to your room and show him some of your notes on our latest teachings.”
Both of your heads turned towards him as he said this, your eyes lighting up with excitement and Jake’s widening slightly.
“Oh..” His mother was starting and you resisted the urge to glare in her direction. “Jake isn’t… he’s never..”
Jake’s father sent her a sharp look and she snapped her mouth shut immediately, looking away from him. Your excitement only doubled as you realized she wasn’t comfortable leaving her son alone with a girl, leading you to believe he never had been before.
“Of course father.” You smiled at him softly, standing and flattening out your dress in a prudish manner. Jake glanced in your direction as you stood, clumsily rising out of his own chair as you headed up the stairs and down the hall to your room.
He followed wordlessly behind, still not speaking even when you stood in the doorway and let him awkwardly squeeze past you so he was stood stiffly in the center of your room. You closed the door behind you and he froze, eyes widening again.
“What are you doing?” His voice was high with worry and you realized it was your first time hearing him speak.
“What are you talking about?” You played dumb as you observed him, walking backwards until your legs hit your bed and you could sit carefully. He stayed standing as he watched you with confusion and worry.
“Mother says not to close doors.” He was shaking his head and it looked like he wanted to go and open it himself. He didn’t move however and you leaned back to rest on your hand, cocking your head in his direction.
“Do you always do what mommy says?” You questioned.
His eyebrows furrowed slightly at your condescending tone. You’d seemed nice enough at church and dinner, not speaking much but polite to your parents whenever you did. He was suddenly worried he had angered you.
“I guess she did say you were a good boy.” You quoted what his mother had said when she introduced him, voice carrying a faint mocking tone as you spoke.
He didn’t say anything after you said that, just standing there looking at you like you were some form of animal he’d never seen before. And maybe he hadn’t you were beginning to think, his speech was structured and tight like he was reciting lines and you were curious if he’d ever had a conversation with somebody his own age.
Your hand reached over to pat the bed next to you, raising an eyebrow at him and urging him to sit.
He watched you with that same look for a few seconds before looking back at the door like he was contemplating how fast he’d have to bolt out of it before you could sink your claws into him. He seemed to decide it wasn’t worth it, crossing the room and sitting down as far away from you as he could possibly get.
“Where’d you come from?” You didn’t plan to say that but the curiosity was driving you crazy, not quite understanding how he could be so sheltered.
“A village not far from here.” He was eventually answering with a soft shrug. He was sat perfectly straight on your bed, posture making him look even taller than he already was considering you were still leaned back on your palm.
You should’ve figured he was from a village, suddenly understanding why his mother was practically a house wife from the 1800’s and his dad looked relatively similar to a lumberjack.
“No girls at your village?” You were watching the side of his face as you questioned him, growing slightly agitated that he wasn’t looking at you. “Jake.”
He turned his face towards you when you addressed him, eyes widening like he was worried you were going to scold him from the sound of your stern call.
“I asked you a question.” When he didn’t immediately answer you assumed he hadn’t heard you, repeating yourself. “Was there no girls where you’re from?”
He was shaking his head swiftly, looking at his hands and then back towards you. “None like..”
“None like me?” You interrupted him as he started to trail off and your lips quirked into a smile. “So no pretty girls then.”
He frowned as you hummed and nodded your head like you’d made sense of what he was trying to say. He didn’t look like even he understood what the things you were saying meant and you almost pitied him as you slowly unlocked the full extent of his naivety.
“You’ve probably never even held hands with a girl right?” You kept your tone sweet despite your intentions.
He looked like he only slightly relaxed at your change of tone, glancing at you as he shook his head as a way to answer your question. He didn’t understand why you wanted to know this.
You were sitting back up straight, off your hands, and leaning sideways to get closer to him. He watched you with panicked eyes as you reached down near his lap and took his hand in yours, similarly to how you shook it at the church but the tension in the room was a direct opposite.
He made a strange noise when you touched him, a semi squeak at the suddenness of your contact and you smiled at him, scooting closer so you weren’t awkwardly stretching your arm in his direction.
“How does it feel?” You murmured, fighting the urge to lean against him and whisper in his ear. You didn’t want to scare him off just yet.
“I don’t think I should be in here.” He was shaking his head as he spoke and staring down at your conjoined hands or maybe the floor past them. They were resting in his lap, the back of your hand on his right thigh.
You frowned softly although he wasn’t looking at you, trying to keep up with your act. He seemed to be more pliant earlier when he thought he had upset you. “Jake.”
He glanced at you as you said his name, just like he had before, and his gaze looked guilty when he noticed the frown on your face. You squeezed his hand to try to bring his attention back to the fact you were touching him but he shook his head again.
“I really need to go Y/N.” He was still trying to sound polite despite his obvious discomfort and you almost smiled at the innocence of that.
“You don’t want me to touch you?” You let a small whine sink into your tone, really trying to drive home the idea that he was upsetting you and you felt him squeeze your hand absentmindedly.
He didn’t reply after you said that and the room fell into a strange silence. Then he was sending a heavy glance in your direction and your mouth parted in realization, understanding his inner monologue by the thick amount of guilt in his expression.
“You do want me to touch you.” You let your smile show now, not finding any reason to hide it now that he clearly took your bait. He squeezed his eyes shut as you said this and shook his head again, his hair messy now and falling into his face.
“What’s wrong Jake?” You were almost cooing at him, your hand sliding out of his and up his wrist, in result the back of your hand going further up his thigh. You kneaded at his wrist bone and he grunted at the almost painful sensation. “It’s just skin.”
He looked at you with a frustrated expression, holding eye contact for a few seconds much to your surprise. You were almost worried he was going to cry. You didn’t mind it personally, if anything you were thinking about how pretty he’d look with watery eyes and a red nose, but you imagined it would cause some level of concern with the parents.
So you released your grip on his wrist, taking your hand back and placing it on your own lap. You were still sitting far too close to him but he visibly relaxed at the lack of touch, however slightly confused why you had backed off.
Almost like the world had been paused for the entirety of your conversation and now played again, a soft knock on your door caused you to leap away from him and grab the bible your father insisted was kept on your nightstand at all times.
You were relieved to see his face when the door opened, knowing your mother would have most likely immediately sniff out what you’d been doing. Or at least attempting to do.
Your father looked between the two of you and the large space, nodding in approval when you flashed him a smile and opened to a random page in the book. He didn’t seem to notice how tense Jake was or the fact your door had been closed in the first place.
“Your parents are leaving Jake. You can stay a bit longer if you two are having fun.” Your father was saying in a welcoming voice but Jake was hopping off your bed before he even had a chance to finish.
“No, sir. Thank you but I really should get home and finish unpacking.” He was stumbling over his words and awkwardly shifting in place, waiting for your dad to move out of the doorway so he could make his escape.
Your dad shot you a confused look over Jake’s shoulder and you gave him a small shrug, fighting the urge to smile.
——
Guilt was eating Jake alive the entire ride home. He wasn’t quite sure what he had necessarily done wrong, what level of sin he had just committed, but his mother kept shooting him disappointed looks in the mirror.
“Will you stop looking at the boy like that.” His fathers gruff voice was mumbling from the drivers seat and his mom snapped her eyes back to the front window obediently. “It’ll be good for him to make a friend.”
“What type of girl leads a boy to her bedroom?” He was surprised his mother had spoken again, especially in the harsh tone she was using. She must’ve been angry enough at you and your behavior to forget the fear she held for Jake’s father.
He felt a bit strange as she said that. You were definitely weird and had made Jake feel something he’d never experienced, and he positively wanted to leave your room as quick as possible but he didn’t think you deserved such a mean comment.
He continued to feel strange for the rest of the night.
Jake laid in bed, hours past his usual bed time, and replayed your interaction in his head. Every time he got to the part where you grabbed his wrist in your tight hold, he squeezed his eyes shut and asked god to forgive him.
He could feel his stomach light up when he thought about your hand on his pants and he wanted to dig his nails into the skin as a self punishment for the thoughts brewing in his head, thoughts he had never had before and didn’t understand.
Rolling over in his bed, stomach to the mattress, he stuffed his face into his pillow and cried softly until he eventually fell asleep.
——
You felt giddy in the church pew the next morning after seeing Jake walk in with his parents. You immediately knew your plan had worked judging by his puffy face and swollen eyes. He’d clearly gotten no sleep and you could take a strong guess at the reason why.
A sick part of you was ecstatic at the fact you had something to do, something that actually managed to catch your interest.
If all it took to keep Jake up all night was you touching his hand, than you were preparing for more fun than you originally thought.
The morning had gone routinely as you remained in your seat for the entire sermon, not spinning around to try to catch a look at the boy despite the urge constantly in the back of your mind. You didn’t focus for a second but you did a solid job pretending until you heard a hushed voice behind you excusing themself.
You snuck a glance back to see Jake passing through his pew with muttered apologies and thanks to the people he was passing, smiling softly at them.
You watched him exit the pew and make his way down the main aisle, no doubt heading towards the bathroom hall since it was the only other part of the building outside of your fathers head office. You let him disappear from your sight and counted to 30 before abruptly standing and following his path before your mother could grab your hand in denial.
By the time you made it to the hall, Jake was exiting the bathroom with damp hands and a few wet strands of hair like he had splashed his face in an attempt to wake up.
His eyes widened when he saw you approaching and he glanced behind him like he was considering disappearing back into the bathroom so you couldn’t say anything to him. You smiled at this but didn’t move closer to him, leaning against the wall.
“What are you doing?” He watched you with careful eyes, not quite sure what you wanted.
You shrugged and furrowed your eyebrows. “What are you doing? You look tired, did you not get any sleep?”
He didn’t say anything as he looked at you, eyes heavy and guilty again like he was afraid you could read his mind. Unlucky for him, you didn’t have to read his mind to know what was happening in it.
“Were you thinking about me?” You pushed forward on his suspicions when he didn’t respond to you, tilting your head as you looked at him.
He didn’t respond again, letting out a small tired exhale before leaning against the wall opposite of you. The hallway was tensioned despite not being close enough to touch even if you stretched your arm out.
“I was thinking about you.” You suddenly confessed in an attempt to catch his interest or potentially get him to lower his walls enough for a solid conversation. It seemed to work considering his head was snapping up and he was looking at you with wide questioning eyes. “Is thinking a sin?”
He watched you for a few seconds, slightly embarrassed that you had somehow realized what his inner dilemma lead back to.
“Yes.” He answered matter of factly and you let out a small laugh.
You observed the way his lips awkwardly quirked up, like he was pleased he made you laugh despite being dead serious in his answer. His smile pulled at his cheeks for a second and you liked the way he nervously wiped his sweaty hands on his pants.
“What… what were you thinking about?” He squeezed the words out like they were painful after a silence fell between the two of you. You felt a bud of satisfaction at the fact he’d been curious enough to ask.
“Touching you.” You shrugged like it was a casual thing to say, watching his shoulders tense and his mouth part slightly in shock and disapproval.
“My hand?” You were a bit surprised that he asked a follow up question, voice dropping into a scared whisper like he was worried somebody was eavesdropping, maybe he was worried god could hear him.
You were watching him for a few uncomfortable beats, liking the way his cheeks turned red and he kept looking away from your gaze anxiously. Then you were shaking your head to answer his question, taking a step closer to his side of the hall.
His breath hitched as you kept taking small strides in his direction, taking your time with a loose smile on your face like you were out for a casual walk. You stopped next to him, turning and pressing your back against the wall he was leaned on so your shoulders were pressing together.
You wondered if he was planning to hold his breath the entire time you were touching him this time around, his face reddening even though your skin was separated by multiple pieces of thick fabric.
“Would you let me touch you again?” You leaned over slightly so you were closer to his ear, your chin hovering over his shoulder.
“You can’t.” He was immediately denying your request, stiff and agitated sounding. His voice was tight as he spoke like he was having to force the words out. “Please don’t do this.”
“Because you’re a good boy right?” You were even closer now, your lips touching the shell of his ear and he was shuddering against you, a frustrated whine in his throat.
He sent a sharp glare in your direction, at least as sharp as his features could get. You thought he looked cute when he was mad at you, eyes brows furrowed and his glasses sliding to the tip of his nose. Despite the way he was looking at you, he made no attempt to push you away or step apart himself.
“I want you to come to my house after church.” You whispered to him and he didn’t say anything, for once not shaking his head and just looking at you as you spoke your cruel demands. “I’ll tell my dad to talk to your parents about helping you catch up on his teachings.”
He looked amazed at your audacity, to not only lie to your parents but to lie about the lord and the Bible made his stomach turn in disgust.
Still, he almost couldn’t help but to lean his shoulder closer to yours and watch you with wide eyes and a parted mouth. He felt almost transfixed by you and your newness, the unique energy you gave off that made his head spin. He nodded his head slowly and watched you smile.
——
You’d waited for your mother to leave the house, a very rare occurrence for her outside of her weekly bingo nights at the recreational center in town, before you poked your head into your fathers office to request he calls the Sim’s.
You felt strangely jittery as you waited for them to send Jake over. Surprisingly, the Sim’s hadn’t moved into a house that far from you and you imagined he could probably ride a bike to your house in less than twenty minutes if the weather ever allowed it, rainy days an almost constant feature around this time of year.
It was only around half an hour before you heard knocks on the front door, followed by the low tone of your fathers voice and eventually the creaking of the steps as somebody made their way up to your bedroom.
Jake seemed thrown off when he saw you, dressed in far more casual clothes than he’d seen you in so far. He also looked momentarily relieved at the fact your door was wide open and you didn’t make any move to shut it as he crossed into the threshold of your room.
“Hi.” He politely addressed you with a slight bow and wave, avoiding looking at you fully where you sat on the bed. You gave him an incredulous look and sighed before patting the spot next to you.
He looked like he was dreading this but expecting it, only taking a few seconds of hesitation before he was shuffling over and sitting slowly down on your soft bed. You immediately scooted closer to him and grabbed his hand in yours.
His reaction wasn’t as intense as last time although he did immediately stiffen and his eyes snapped wide open, but he didn’t let out a small shriek at the feeling of your touch like he did yesterday.
“Are you going to let me touch you today?” You kept your voice low and he was suddenly very aware of the fact your door was completely open and your father was just a few feet away downstairs.
He slowly looked over at you, peering up from behind his long eyelashes and you wanted to grab his face with your nails. He looked like a puppy who had just done something naughty, big eyes unmoving from nerves as they darted around your face so he could avoid holding your strong gaze.
“This isn’t right.” He whispered back, eyes pleading as they finally locked onto yours. You almost felt sorry for him as he spoke, obviously so desperate to set you back on the right path in life. “Mother said I shouldn’t lay a hand on anybody, not even myself.”
You almost smiled as he said this, pleased at the new information he was unknowingly providing you with.
“It’s just skin.” You were reminding him again, slowly leaning against him so your chest was pressed against the side of his arm. His breath hitched at this and he glanced down at your upper body for a second. “You’ve never touched yourself?”
He shook his head immediately, face annoyed like he was offended you’d even suggest he would do such a thing. You liked that even though he was uncomfortable and denying his thoughts towards you, he still wasn’t seemingly capable of pushing you away. He’d still shown up to your house.
“I touch myself.” You were leaning forward more so you could talk into his ear again. A soft whimper left his throat when your lips grazed his skin again but he didn’t say anything, like he was waiting for you to continue. “On this bed, I touch myself every night.”
It was a slight exaggeration. You hadn’t really felt a strong need to touch yourself ever, never having a subject of attraction that left you longing enough that you’d roll around in bed late at night thinking about it, squeezing your thighs together in frustration.
But you were transfixed by the way he immediately tensed again, glancing back behind you towards where your pillows were and then immediately shooting forward and falling to the cross hanging on the wall in front of you both.
“It’s just skin.” You repeated to him again and he sucked in a shaky breath as you said it, bringing his guilty pained eyes back to you. You almost cooed at him, clicking your tongue and holding his chin softly. He leaned into the touch like he wasn’t meaning to and you wondered how touch starved he must be.
Your hand that wasn’t holding his face fell down to his lap, laying flat and still on his thigh as you let him process what you were doing.
He stiffened again and let out a low troubled groan, shaking his head again at himself. You wondered what he was thinking right now, if he was convinced he was heading straight for hell because of his thoughts alone so maybe it didn’t matter if he let you touch him. Or maybe he was seconds away from bolting downstairs and telling your father about what you’d been attempting to do.
“This isn’t right.” He was whispering and still trying to shake his head the best he could with your grip on his face. His repetition was starting to bug you, suddenly feeling impatient as he still hadn’t taken the bait fully.
“But it feels so good.” You purred into his ear, turning his head back to look at the cross and scooting closer so you were pressed tightly against his side. The sensation of this mixed with your hand on his leg was overwhelming and he felt slightly suffocated. “I want to show you Jake, let me show you how good it feels.”
He didn’t say anything for a few seconds and you considered letting him go, wanting to have him completely might mean waiting some time so you didn’t scare him off.
Then he was surprising you and looking back in your direction, your hand falling to his collarbones instead so he could decide what to do with his head. He gave you a soft nod, looking like he immediately regretted it when you wasted no time, pushing your hand forward onto the center of his pants.
He immediately lurched forward with a loud groan at the feeling of your hand on him and you shushed him softly, using the hand on his face to bring him back up to a sitting position and pet his face lovingly.
“You have to be quiet Jake.” You whispered in his ear and nodded towards your open door. He looked at you with a desperate glance, like he was pleading for you to close it despite his upset at that yesterday. You shook your head softly. “Can you be a good boy Jake?”
You started to slowly knead your hand against him, wanting to smile at the fact he was already hard before you had touched him. Light teasing and your soft hand on his thigh already had him bothered.
He was making small noises and you kept his face turned in your direction with your hold back on his jaw. You were sitting up straighter than him so he was a bit below you, having to look up through his eyelashes as he surprisingly held eye contact with you.
“Doesn’t it feel good?” You murmured excitedly, eyes wild and eager. He didn’t reply verbally, another small whine slipping from his throat and you pressed down hard on his cock through his pants. “I asked a question.”
Now he was nodding desperately, hands reaching out to grip your wrist in an attempt to lessen the pressure you were applying to him. “Good- feels good.”
His voice was strained and raspy like it was crawling its way out of his throat and you smiled with sick satisfaction, leaning forward so you were closer to his face. Your nose pressed against his and you thought about kissing him for just a few seconds, eventually deciding against it.
Jake was writhing on the bed now, desperately moving into your hand with small groans and whines, his hips lifting off the blanket in an attempt to chase your touch every time you removed it. He didn’t even seem to realize he was doing it, a dazed expression on his face.
He seemed out of it until your hand was leaving his face and sliding down his sweater covered chest. He didn’t seem to realize you were doing it until your hand was pressing on his stomach slightly, fidgeting with the singular button on his jeans and tugging on the zipper impatiently.
“No, no.” He was whining, grabbing your wrist to stop you from snaking your hand down his pants, touching him without any layers between. “You can’t do that.”
“Why?” You asked incredulously, leaning forward so you were hovering over him slightly. He leaned back on his hand a bit to avoid bumping into your face and you were a few inches from laying on top of him. “I promise it’ll feel so good Jake.”
The usage of his name made him wince, realizing he liked it far too much when you said it. He’d never really considered his name before, completely indifferent to it until he heard the way it rolled off your snake like tongue.
“You aren’t supposed to do that.” He practically spat the words at you but his tone lacked any anger instead sounding fearful and pained. “You can’t touch me there, you just can’t.”
You felt slightly sorry for him as he hiccuped, his voice breaking around the words as you watched tears collect in his pretty eyelashes. His eyes kept darting to the cross on the wall with a guilty expression.
You took your hands off of his lap, listening to his sigh of longing at the loss of contact. You weren’t quite sure what to do in this situation despite seeing it coming, eventually opting for sitting up further on the bed and pulling him into your neck, wrapping your arms around his shaking body in a hug.
He leaned into it and hesitantly wrapped himself around you, tucking his face into your warm neck and letting out a few sobs, tugging you forward slightly by your lower back.
You let him cry for a while, hushing him softly every few minutes just in case, although you were in a less compromising position now, you still didn’t think your father would be thrilled to find you half in the lap of a sniffling boy who was still hard against you.
“Jake.” You were eventually murmuring into his hair once his hiccups subsided slightly, he nuzzled into your neck further at the sound of your soft tone. “What if I didn’t use my hands?”
He picked his head up at this and furrowed his eyebrows at you, his eyes puffy and red with wet streaks still going down his face.
“I don’t understand.” He looked more puppy like than normal as he said this in a soft breathy voice, voice hoarse from crying and his lip almost jutting out into a confused frown.
“Can I show you?” You kept your voice soft as you spoke to him and he immediately nodded his head. He clearly had found some sort of comfort in your embrace, a connection being made enough for him to fall into this state of vulnerability, willingly to accept what you were wanting to give him now.
You felt a sick rush of adrenaline at his lowered walls, the sudden dumb eagerness in his eyes as he seemed to seek out any sign of contact from you.
You imagined it was a flood of emotions, a confusion and tiring feeling to suddenly be presented with a situation that went against everything your life had been carefully crafted around. Not to mention how addicting it must feel to suddenly learn what was on the other side and how good it felt, having unbothered access to it as the two of you sat huddled on your bed.
Kissing his cheek softly, you slowly slid off the bed onto the floor, suddenly thankful you had a thick rug on your bed side. He watched you in confusion, looking like he wanted to grab you and help you up before you shot him a stern look.
Your hands were back on his jeans now that you were fully situated and he looked like he wanted to object for just a second before lifting his hips off the bed so you could pull them down to pool around his ankles.
You took just a second to admire him, his pretty tanned skin overwhelming you a bit in its sheer amount. His legs were surprisingly thick, muscular like an athlete and you briefly remembered you didn’t know much about him at all.
That didn’t bother you at all, if anything it made you want him more when you looked up at him to see his nervous eyes staring down at you in concern. He looked humiliated and you imagined it had something to do with the fact he was still extremely hard, even after crying for so long.
If he was more stable in his emotions, less flighty, you would’ve made fun of him. You would’ve called him names and made him cry all over again and then taken his innocence without a second thought.
Instead you carried on the kindness act, leaning forward and pressing a kiss against his length through his underwear.
He immediately hissed and shot forward, not realizing what you were planning to do and not understanding why you were doing this. He started to stammer out in confusion and you shushed him again, sending a sharp glare towards the open door in warning.
“What are you doing?” He sounded absolutely blown away now, even more than he did earlier and it settled in your mind that he clearly had absolute no sexual knowledge, including blowjobs. “That’s dirty, you can’t do that.”
“Why not?” You were mock frowning up at him. “Did mommy say so?”
He knew you were making fun of him but he still nodded in response, not liking the sudden return of your mean tone. He forgot all about it when you were leaning forward again, this time touching your lips to him longer and sucking softly through the fabric.
“Mommy’s not here.” You were breathing out when you pulled away from him again, much to his dismay considering he immediately lifted his hips back in your direction. “And doesn’t it feel nice?”
He was nodding his head dumbly in agreement, feeling dizzy from the foreign emotions. He still didn’t understand what you were doing but it felt too good to keep questioning, forgetting momentarily about sin and how much punishment was going to come his way after this.
You were sliding your hands up his thighs slowly, stopping at the waistband of his boxers and glancing up at him for any sign of refusal. You didn’t care much for his discomfort but you weren’t going to force him to do anything, despite how much fun you were having with him.
He didn’t make any move to stop you, not even seeming to notice or understand what you were planning to do until you pulled on the elastic swiftly.
Then he was shooting back up from where he’d been leaning back, shaking his head again and covering himself with his hands. You smiled at him from your place on the floor and he looked at you like you were crazy.
You were getting slightly frustrated despite your pleased expression, wanting him to quickly understand what you were planning on doing. You gripped his wrist tightly and pulled them away from his lap
“What are you doing?” He was whispering in a panicked tone, his hands hovering above your head like he was debating pulling you away from him. He let out a yelp when you leaned forward and took the head of his cock into your mouth, watching him with hooded eyes. “T-that’s dirty, stop it.”
You wanted to laugh at his wording choices, sounding like he was a worried mother scolding their child for playing in mud.
“It’s dirty?” You frowned at him when you pulled back for a moment, his wide eyes falling on your wet lips. They squeezed shut just for a moment when you were licking up his full length slowly, humming at the taste of him and his weight on your tongue. “I should probably stop then right?”
He let out a panicked cry and ran a hand over his face in frustration. He wanted you to stop or at least he knew he should want you to stop. His mother had been right and you were not a nice girl, not the type of girl he should be around and he felt his stomach turn at the knowledge he was committing a very large sin by finding pleasure in your lust.
But the pleasure was prominent and overwhelming him to the point he couldn’t think straight.
He understood what sex was and his father had taught him about boyish lust, the kind that wakes you up from your sleep needing to change into a new pair of pajamas but he’d been warned from an early age to simply ignore the occurring urge.
He could still hear his mothers shrieks and cries when she caught him with a pillow between his legs in high school, could feel the welts on the back of his hands from the ruler his father had punished him with. Jake sometimes wondered if other people experienced this urge, this call to sin, as much as he did or if he was rotten inside.
But for the first time in his entire life, Jake couldn’t find it in himself to think about the consequences to falling victim to it. Not when you were touching him in ways not even his dreams could think to imagine.
When he didn’t answer you’d taken him back in your mouth, slightly impressed by how thick he was. He bucked forward his hips instinctively, pushing himself deeper into your mouth and you pinched his thigh roughly in warning.
You heard him cry out in a sob, his hands gripping the blankets so hard they were turning white and shaking at an almost alarming rate.
“Please.” He was begging and you weren’t sure he even knew what for, his voice coming out desperate and needy. “Please i-it feels really weird.”
You hummed around his cock in understanding, your hand petting his thigh and pushing his shirt up on his stomach so you could feel more of him. He didn’t even seem to register you touching him, the sounds of his soft cries and pleads distracting you slightly.
You tapped his hip bone a few times and he seemed to somehow understand the message, pushing his cock deeper into your mouth at a slower pace this time. You let him do what he wanted despite the urge to take control of the situation, knowing there wasn’t any chance he was lasting more than 30 seconds anyways.
He was slightly surprising you already, truthfully you’d expected him to cum before you even got his boxers off his thighs.
You imagined his inner monologue was causing him some issue as you listened to him cry softly from pleasure, little overwhelmed gasps and hiccups as one of his hands grabbed onto the one you were running across his stomach and squeezed it tightly.
“You need to just let it go baby.” You were whispering to him as you pulled off for a second when his hips started to twitch awkwardly, overwhelmed and not understanding what the feeling building up deep in his gut was. “Don’t worry about making a mess.”
The second you took him back in your lips he was following your instructions with a loud moan, completely forgetting you were meant to keep quiet as he came inside your warm mouth.
You winced slightly at the unexpectedness of it, leaning backwards on your knees as you waited for his hips to stop jerking forward.
He was shaking his head at you, eyes teary and his face red as he squinted his eyes in confusion. “What w-was -“
“You came.” You said matter of factly, standing up with a groan from your uncomfortable kneeling position and sitting next to him on the bed again. He leaned sideways into you, much to your surprise, and you resisted the urge to push him off you.
“Was I supposed to?” He whispered in embarrassment and pushed his face into your neck again. You were slightly uncomfortable at his clinginess but you let him do it, knowing he must be feeling a lot.
“Yes Jake. Maybe not all over my face though.” You were trying to joke with him to lighten the atmosphere but you sighed as you heard him let out a little cry into your neck, clearly upset and humiliated.
He was mumbling against your skin, repeated mantras that you couldn’t quite understood through his sobs but had a good guess in what they contained. You imagined reality was coming back to him now and he was processing what he’d just done without the hazy cloud of need cursing his judgement.
“Jake, you need to stop crying.” You were sighing and bringing your hand up to his hair, petting it softly to try to calm him down.
“Did I do a bad thing?” He pulled off your neck to look you in the eyes, his wide and desperate like he was fishing for any bit of reassurance that what you’d just done was okay, that he hadn’t just committed a sin so unholy. You could tell by his expression he was asking just to hear it reaffirmed, for you to tell him again it was just skin.
“My poor baby.” You were cooing at him, lips jutted out in a pout as your hands came up to hold his face, cupping it softly and wiping his teary cheeks with your thumbs. “Of course you did a bad thing.”
He froze completely in your hold and you felt a laugh bubble into your throat, holding it down with all your might so you could get the full extent of his reaction. He sat up slightly, attempting to pull out of your hands before realizing you were holding his face too tight. He gave you a confused and hurt look.
“What?” He was stammering out and his face was curling back into another sob.
“How could you let me do that?” You were tsking at him as you spoke, eyebrows furrowed like he had genuinely offended you. He watched you as panic settled into his eyes at the sound of you kissing your teeth and shaking your head softly. “We were supposed to be studying.”
“B-but.” He was shaking his head and holding onto your wrist, eyes filling with tears. “But you said that..”
He trailed off and you watched him with a raised eyebrow, waiting for him to pass the blame off onto you. Of course he didn’t, his expression hardening although you knew he hadn’t quite realized your motive. He was too innocent to believe you’d deceive him, too stupid to understand every action you did was a carefully crafted lie.
“Maybe it’s time you go Jakey.” You were nodding as you spoke, petting his hair and pushing it back out of his eyes.
He didn’t say anything else, his expression dazed out as he came out of such a vulnerable compliant headspace with a jolt. You watched him in silence as he gathered himself enough to get dressed awkwardly and walk out of your room, loose and tilting like he had just woken up.
You waited for him to be completely out of sight, the sound of the front door closing, before falling back on your bed with a big smile.
——
You’d fallen asleep soon after that without much thought on the situation, feeling only a deep satisfaction at the progress you’d made with Jake and a slight tinge of excitement for the next time you got to see him.
By the time you’d woken up, your mother was already in your room and standing staring down at you. You barely reacted to her presence although you were slightly unnerved and curious just how long she’d been watching you sleep.
“Can I help you?” Your voice was groggy as you sat up and pushed your bedridden hair out of your face.
Any other mother might have found your tired movements cute, maybe they’d give you an endeared smile and reminisce on when you were a baby waking up from naps.
However you were born with a very specific type of mother, maybe one of her kind. She was watching you with a nasty scowl, a knowing look in her eye as she did a slow pan around your room. “Your father said the boy was here yesterday.”
You hummed in agreement, tilting your head softly to try and get a further reaction from her.
“His mother called and said he won’t be at church this morning.” She spat the words at you, accusatory and nasty. “He’s sick.”
You could tell by the way she said that she knew it was a lie, wether Jake was the one telling it or his mother. At first you were slightly shocked he’d lie about being sick but you figured he might just be feeling so, driven by the extreme emotions he’d been feeling.
“What a shame. He seemed more than fine yesterday.” You put in a pity filled voice, shaking your head as you let the innuendo sink in for her, watching the way her face curled with disgust.
“Almost ready?” You father was suddenly in your doorway, observing the scene with a raised eyebrow as he buttoned the cuff of his sleeve.
“Father, would it be okay if I stopped by the Sim’s before heading to service? I’d like to bring Jake some soup for his cold.” Your voice was dripping with sweetness and you vaguely saw your mothers jaw tick with irritation.
“I can do it.” She was rushing to say.
Your father shook his head immediately and held a hand up to silence the both of you from speaking again. He finished buttoning his sleeve and cleared his throat before speaking. “You agreed to meet with the Lee’s today Mary. I think it’d be a good idea for Y/N to go, since they’re friends.”
You smiled appreciatively at him and he gave you a small nod before leaving the room. You glanced at your mother to see her stony expression but surprisingly she didn’t say anything, simply shaking her head in disapproval and following behind him.
It was strange to not leave for church with them, to stand in the window with the curtain pulled back as you smiled and waved watching the car drive off.
You dropped the grin the second they turned the street corner and hurried out the door to get on your bike and head over to the Sim’s house.
You hadn’t been there before despite your father pointing it out on your way home yesterday but it looked pretty much the exact same as the other houses in the neighborhood. It was large and eerie, the rainy atmosphere not helping it.
The door was opening before you could even dismount your bike let alone knock and you saw Jake’s mom standing in the archway with a small frown.
“What are you doing here?” Her tone was harsh and for a second you wondered if he had told her about what happened, confessed his sins in a fit of guilt.
You were so thrown off that you didn’t immediately respond, suddenly aware of the fact you didn’t bring any sort of soup or medicine like you had originally planned, too eager to get out the door to remember your cover story.
Lucky for you, Jake’s father was coming into sight now and a small grunt from him sent the rude woman cowering away.
You observed this with a curious expression and tried not to frown. Maybe Jake wasn’t as innocent and pure as he seemed considering he apparently had some familial issues, obvious in the way his mother showed a fearful obedience to the large man in front of you.
“You here for my boy?” His voice was low and gruff and it was a bit remarkable how different Jake was than his father.
You opted for a small nod, only slightly playing a part considering he actually did a good job at intimidating you. He let out a hum of approval and stepped aside so you could enter the house, not asking anymore questions.
“It’s good you two get along.” You were taking in the main living space as you entered, his voice picking up a conversational tone that sounded slightly unnatural. “I was beginning to think he’d never talk to someone his own age, let alone a girl.”
He had a typical mannish tone, one you’d heard in movies or from the gross men who sat outside the town bar in a drunken haze as they catcalled and talked at a volume far too loud for your small town. It lacked the usual religious hold you were more used to, he almost sounded pleased at the idea of his son being with a girl.
You glanced at him and held his stare. You wondered for a second if he was testing you now, waiting for you to reveal any sinful intentions you had so he could run back to your father and earn some brownie points for catching your sickness in the act.
He raised an eyebrow at you as you cocked your head, willing him to talk further and continue in his attempt at baiting you.
“Upstairs on the right.” He eventually said, your stare unrelenting. You unfroze your stony expression and gave him a small smile, knowing you probably looked crazy with how fast your face changed.
You were walking away from him before he could say anything else or before Jake’s mother could return, skipping a step at a time in your haste to get upstairs.
Without knocking, you pushed open his door and barged in.
He was sat up in bed, lower half under the covers, and he let out a small shriek of surprise at your sudden intrusion, furthered by a quick inhale when he realized who it was that had just walked in.
“W-what are you doing here?” He was rushing out as he watched you close the door behind you and sit down on the end of his bed.
“I came to check on you.” You said it like it was obvious, a soft shrug of your shoulders. “Since you’re sick.”
His mouth parted in confusion for a second before he seemingly remembered he was meant to be ill, looking awkward and guilty at the reminder he had lied.
You didn’t address his obvious reaction, telling you what you already assumed, and instead climbed up further on his bed. He made a strange noise when you got closer to him, pulling back the blankets and getting underneath them with him. You briefly caught sight of his plaid pajama pants before you covered the both of you up.
“M-my parents.” He was shaking his head and anxiously looking at the door like he was waiting for his mom to walk in any second. You watched his distress, wondering if he was possibly hoping for that to happen, before you heard the sound of the front door slamming.
A look of fear passed over his face at the realization his parents had just left him alone with you. You were a bit surprised yourself but you kept your face neutral, watching him to drink up his reaction.
“I came all this way and you can’t even say thank you.” You tsked and relaxed against his pillows with an annoyed expression. “Especially after what you did yesterday.”
He looked upset at the reminder and he was sitting up more now, the blanket pulling forward around his thighs and he practically kneeled and titled forward in your direction. He wasn’t touching you but his hands were clasped together as he practically did a full bow on his bed.
“I’m so sorry.” He started to say the words but his voice broke around them and he rocked slightly back and forth. You almost laughed at the fact he was already about to cry and it’d only been about five minutes alone with you. “Thank you for coming.”
You imagined he’d been doing a lot of crying since you saw him last, staying up all night running your words on loop in his mind. The sincerity in your voice when you told him he committed a disgusting sin.
“Get back under the covers.” You spoke in a calm voice and he picked his head up to look at you in confusion, face red and eyes teary. He looked surprised you weren’t scolding him, having seemingly forgotten you were the one who practically forced him to let you touch him.
He stayed frozen like that for a few seconds before snapping back to reality and nodding appreciatively, getting back under the blankets and pulling them up again so you were covered. He seemed to only now realize you were laying back against the pillows and he mirrored you, laying on his side so he could face you.
“I won’t tell anybody what you did.” You whispered to him now that his attention was fully on you. Your hand came up to hold his face and he tensed for a second at the contact. “Or maybe I will… I haven’t decided.”
He shook his head hastily, scooting closer to your body and grabbing ahold of your hand that was on his face, wrapping both of his around your wrist and squeezing it softly in desperation.
“Y-you can’t.” He urged and you felt his hands shaking around yours. “I mean you can b-but I’m really so sorry and my dad, he’d kill me.”
You shushed him as he started to ramble, petting his cheek and frowning deeply at what he had said. You figured Jake’s dad hurt his mother but you hadn’t considered it extending to his child as well. A strange surge of anger ran through you despite your own twisted intentions.
Scooting down a bit more so you were completely laid down, you put a hand on his back and pulled him towards you until he got the hint and curled into your side with a soft cry. He was stuffing his face back into your neck like he did yesterday and you rubbed his back softly.
You vaguely acknowledged the fact he was completely pressed against your side now, almost laying half on top of you in his emotional state.
“I won’t tell.” You whispered, his soft and messy hair tickling your face as you spoke. In his desperation for comfort he seemed to forget about not touching you, his arm coming up to wrap around your stomach, tugging you closer in a rush of thankfulness and your eyebrows raised in surprise. “But only if you answer my questions.”
He nodded immediately and picked his head up off your neck so he could look at you more clearly. He looked particularly cute like this you decided, his hair unstyled and still sticking up from where he’d slept on it and his soft pajamas that were rubbing against your legs.
“Did you touch yourself last night.” You held his chin as you spoke so he was looking up at you, his head almost resting against your chest as he peered with big wet eyes.
He was shaking his head as much as he could and furrowing his eyebrows like he did the last time you asked him. “I don’t- I wouldn’t. I don’t know how even.”
This fascinated you slightly. You figured he didn’t understand masturbating or its purpose outside of it being sinful but the fact he’d never once curiously touched himself was interesting. You wondered how many nights he laid in bed crying with confusion at the dull ache between his legs.
“Did you like being in my mouth?” Your voice dropped lower for the second question and an automatic whine slipped out from his lips, his face immediately flushing with embarrassment as he seemed to replay the memory.
He was nodding hesitantly much to your annoyance, you wanted to hear him say it but you figured you could take it easy on him today.
Maybe easy wasn’t the best way to describe your current plan for him considering the way you were suddenly pressing your thigh in between his legs, smiling at him when he groaned loudly and tightened his grip on you.
Your side burned slightly from the force in which he curled his hands up at the sudden contact.
“You’re hard.” You said matter of factly, telling the truth and not just teasing him. He was solid against your thigh now and you heard him whimper when you shifted slightly so his tight grip on you was more comfortable. “I barely said anything and you’re hard.”
He shook his head in disagreement but his hips twitched forward, rubbing his erection against you and making a low drawn out sound at the feeling.
“Did I say you could do that?” Your tone was harsh again and he immediately froze, groaning softly and tucking his head forward onto your chest. You let your hand go back to this hair, petting him for a second before gripping it tightly and tugging his head back up to look at you.
He winced at the pain, face contorted as he tried to scoot away from you. However he still didn’t remove his arm from around your stomach so he wasn’t able to go far, his hand still kneading against your side like he didn’t realize he was even moving it.
“Ask me.” You instructed him, still holding his hair in a tight fist. “Clear words, no crying bullshit.”
He looked momentarily taken back by you swearing and being so harsh but then he had a look of guilt like he was remembering the other day and he was attempting to nod in head in agreement.
“Please I want… I want you to touch me.” He settled on, not sure how to word what he needed. You smiled softly at him for his attempt but you weren’t convinced, deciding on helping him ask you properly.
“Tell me you’re disgusting.” You whispered, leaning your face forward so your nose was touching his again, like it did momentarily yesterday. “Say you want to hump my leg like a dog.”
He looked confused and overwhelmed at your words, shaking his head in refusal until you moved your leg again. It rubbed against him and you almost laughed at the fact he was almost harder now even after your tone changed. His hips chased the feeling and you tugged his hair again in warning, listening to his soft groan of frustration.
“I want..” He hiccuped softly and shook his head, trying to force the strange words from his mouth. “I want to hump your leg please please.”
You let go of his hair and his head fell back down onto your chest. He hadn’t completely fulfilled your request but it was good enough for now.
“Alright baby.” You didn’t need to say anything else for him to understand, immediately pulling you closer again and rocking against your side.
You listened to his soft little whines as he humped against you desperately, moving in messy motions as he tried to chase after the feeling he recognized from yesterday.
The feeling of his hand gripping your side was making your head spin a bit much to your irritation and you gripped it tightly, moving it off your waist. He seemed to misunderstand and instead placed it directly over your belly button where your sweater had ridden up, pushing down softly as he rubbed the soft skin of your stomach.
You let out a small groan and this seemed to ignite something in him because he let out a little cry and nuzzled further into you as he dragged his clothed cock over your hip harder.
“Tell me it feels good.” You instructed him and you felt more annoyance at the fact your voice came out breathy, not liking the effect he was having on you.
“S-so good.” He immediately responded and you felt his leg wrap around yours, trying to get closer to you despite it being impossible. “Going to die it’s good, it’s good.”
You laughed softly at his dramatic wording and pet his hair again, trying to get his attention. He slowed down the grinding of his hips to look at you and you nearly cooed at his hooded wet eyes, trying to focus on your face but struggling.
You were originally planning on teasing him some more, attempting to get him to repeat the words you wanted to hear earlier, but at the sight of his pretty overwhelmed face you couldn’t help yourself from leaning in and kissing him softly.
He yelped at the feeling, tensing up for a few seconds before closing his eyes and trying to kiss you back, failing miserably.
You laughed against his lips and you could feel him frowning, face getting red with embarrassment as he uncomfortably shifted against you.
“Come here.” You tapped his back softly and nudged him so he was fully on top of you, squishing you under him but making it so you could reach his mouth better. “Rub your cock on me while we kiss.”
He whined softly, nodding his head despite the flush on his face and you waited while he slowly experimented with the new position, practically in missionary now. When he started to move his hips again, his hard cock was now rubbing directly against your core and he faltered at the feeling, nearly collapsing on top of you.
You smiled at his reaction. You had full doubt that he knew what sex was or the fact he was basically imitating it but you imagine he could get the gist that what you were doing was wrong.
You leaned your head forward to kiss him again, easier now that he was on top of you and seemingly more eager to get it right this time. He was still sloppy, not really understanding how to move his mouth or when but you took over, moving your lips against his slowly.
He seemed to get the hang of it eventually and you could feel his thrust getting more desperate as the kiss got deeper and faster.
Your tongue was in his mouth before he even realized and he made a small startled sound, hips stopping against yours at the new feeling. He was letting out high pitched whines and moans as you licked into his mouth, him drooling slightly and desperately trying to keep your tongue where it was.
You could feel him sucking on it, twisting his head to try to get it deeper in his mouth and he instinctively gave a particularly hard thrust, causing you to moan into him.
This seemed to startle him, pulling back off your face with a wet chin and hooded eyes, looking down at you in amazement.
He did it again experimentally and you could feel the hard print of his cock directly against you, your back arching as your hand came up to grip his hair and stop him from doing it again. You were reminding yourself this wasn’t about your pleasure, you wanted to ruin him and nothing else.
But you couldn’t deny your attraction to him, almost the perfect boy for you if there was to ever be one.
It didn’t help he happened to have an impressive size on him, although you doubted he even realized he was bigger than usual or would know what to do if given that information.
You wrapped a leg around his side and he sucked in a breath, having better access now. He kept rolling his hips sloppily into you and moaning loudly, forgetting who he was or where he was currently at.
“What would mommy think if she saw you like this?” You took it upon yourself to remind him, whispering into his mouth with a pant and almost laughing at the way he immediately tensed and stopped humping against you. “If she walked it to see her son so desperate to sin.”
He was shaking his head and lifting it slightly to be able to look at you better, eyes welling up with tears as he glanced back over his shoulder at the closed door. You hadn’t been there long and you imagined church still had a few hours before it’d be over and they’d be heading back but he seemed to forget all this at the mention of his parents.
“I’m not.” His hair was messy in his face, bangs slightly damp from sweating and his previous tears. “I don’t want to sin, I don’t want to be bad. Please.”
You hummed softly at him, lips forming a mocking pout as you looked at him with gentle eyes. You stroked his cheek and he closed his eyes, leaning against your hand like a puppy.
“My poor baby.” You cooed and kissed him again briefly, he immediately chased after it when you pulled away and you tapped your finger on his cheek to stop him. “You have no idea what I’m going to do to you.”
He seemed confused at what you meant but too drunk on the feeling of your touch and lips, chasing after them again in a messy kiss that was mostly just him trying to get his tongue back against yours.
You indulged him and let him lick into it, letting out soft desperate moans and you were suddenly realizing how much you were aching for him despite managing to keep a cool demeanor on the outside.
You shifted your leg that was wrapped around his middle and he seemed to remember that he was currently on top of you and he went back to writhing against your body, his hard on rubbing against you an almost painful amount now that you were granting him more access with the switched position.
He wasn’t able to hold himself up, curling up on your chest while he moved his lower body with sobs of pain and need.
“God, I thought it’d take longer to break you.” You were trying to make fun of him but your voice broke in a moan at the feeling of him pushing himself against your sensitive clit. “You’re so fucking nasty, look at yourself.”
He was shaking his head and crying fully now, chasing after a high he didn’t even understand and you were almost feeling dizzy from the pace he was going.
“I’m good.” He was blabbering out and looking at you again, trying to lean forward for a kiss but letting out a sharp cry midway and falling back down with his head on your chest.
“You’re a good boy Jake.” You cooed at him, nodding even though he couldn’t see you and he felt sick at the constant changing of your tones. “My good boy right?”
He was suddenly sitting up again, pulling himself against you so he could look at you directly in the eye, if he could see through his tears. He was nodding his head in earnest and you felt your lip quirk up in a smile.
“I’m yours. I want to be yours.” He was rushing out, hands leaving your stomach to balance on either side of you. His tone was pleading and you wondered if he even knew what he was asking for or if he was just repeating what you’d said dumbly.
You kissed him softly and he let out a shaky breath of relief against your lips. However he started to frown when you were suddenly pushing him off of you and patting the empty space on the bed right beside where you were laying. He looked confused and hurt but he didn’t ask any questions, simply rolling over and waiting to see what you were attempting to do.
You watched him for a few seconds, taking in the change of appearance in such a short amount of time.
He was laid back fully on the bed, eyes hooded and cloudy. His mouth was parted slightly as he panted, his chest rising and falling at a fast speed as his arm reached up to try and push his messy hair out of his face. You liked the way he looked like this, especially the way his shirt was ridden up on his stomach, a sliver of skin showing.
He started making small impatient whines and groans so you took mercy on him, flipping yourself over slightly so you could situate yourself on his lap.
You sucked in a breath the second you did, quickly shutting your lips tight after so he didn’t catch sight of the display of pleasure. He was hard underneath and pressed tightly against your core as you sat on him.
“Oh my god.” He was crying out and his hands jutted forward like he was going to grab your sides, stopping midway and flailing around as he didn’t know what he was meant to do with them.
“Touch me.” You spat at him, reaching down to grab his wrist and put his hands on your ass as you leaned forward so you were in a similar position to his a few minutes ago, laying on top of him.
He froze as he touched you and you almost scolded him for acting so prudish with touching you like he wasn’t just trying to fuck you through his cute little pajamas. However you figured it was harder for him to deliberately do something versus acting purely on the overwhelming lust he was feeling.
You gripped his jaw harshly in your hand, your nails digging into his skin slightly as you used your thumb to pull his mouth open and hummed with satisfaction.
“Say you want me inside you.” You whispered, leaning down to talk into his open mouth. You watched his eyes widen in confusion but you rubbed your hips against him as motivation and he immediately complied.
“Want you inside me.” He moaned out, big fat tears sliding down his face. “Y/N please I need it please.”
He didn’t even know what he was asking for but he was overwhelmed and sinking back down into that fuzzy headspace, willing to do anything to get pleasure from you.
You kept his mouth open after he was done speaking and he opened it wider for you, although not understanding where you were heading with this action. He watched with wide confused eyes as you leaned over him and slowly spit into his open mouth.
He cried out, hips bucking up instinctively at the sensation of your spit on his tongue so directly and you almost fell forward from the roughness in which he fucked himself up into you. You smacked his cheek lightly and he snapped his mouth shut with another moan, eyes shut in euphoria.
You hummed at him in approval, leaning back down to kiss him again and lick into his mouth, letting him turn his head sideways in an attempt to get your tongue as deep as possible. You wondered if he was purposely imitating the blowjob you’d given him or if he was just that desperate to be consumed.
“I’m going to take you to hell with me.” You whispered, pulling out of the kiss and petting his hair softly. He shook his head and let out a small sob, this time not from pleasure.
“Do you want to cum?” You didn’t address his denial or tease him further for now, knowing now you had him completely hooked. He was addicted to you and the feelings you gave him and no mean words would be able to keep him away from you.
He seemed hesitant in his nod, now once again thinking about the sins he was committing and the fact he was skipping church to touch a girl inappropriately. But he did eventually nod his head, eyes still watering.
“Then fuck me baby.” You rolled back over as you spoke, flopping onto your back and rubbing his chest through his shirt, slightly surprised by the thick build he had. He was immediately on top of you again and you almost laughed at his haste.
You didn’t mean it literally and you didn’t fear him taking it as such considering he didn’t even know what it meant, he just knew you were cursing and being dirty.
You wondered if he even knew what you had inside your pants, scrapping that idea for another time instead so you didn’t get yourself too worked up thinking about how much it would ruin him to feel you.
He didn’t last long once he was back on top of you, only a few seconds passed before he was letting out a loud cry and hiccuping, his hips jutting against you a few more times in aftershock before he was collapsing on top of you.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” He was sobbing into your neck and you wrapped your arms around his back, rubbing it slowly with an eye roll. “I’m sorry, God please forgive me.”
——
Jake had fallen asleep on top of you shortly after that, exhausted from everything you’d been putting him through both mentally and physically.
You let him lay there on top of you surprisingly despite how uncomfortable it was and how much you kept readying yourself to shove him off of you and leave him without any comfort, you simply couldn’t.
You weren’t quite sure why, it wasn’t like being mean to him was going to ruin your plan and make him not want to talk to you anymore. He was trapped now with you.
Yet you found yourself staying and not only staying but watching him as he slept. He looked younger like this, despite always being very puppy like and boyish you couldn’t deny that Jake was a man and he could be an intimidating one if it wasn’t for his personality. His eyelashes were long and fluttering like he was having a vigorous dream and his back would rise and fall with every deep inhale he took.
By the time he woke up you’d been laying there for probably an hour or two staring at him or looking around his room with curiosity, you felt him shifting against you and almost pretended you were asleep before deciding against it.
He froze his movements when he realized where he was exactly, or at least who it was underneath him. Then he was rolling off of you onto his back with a groan and you were suddenly feeling very cold without his weight and body warmth.
“Did my parents come home?” His voice was low and groggy from sleep and crying and you turned your head to look at him now that you were laying side by side.
“Are you kidding? Like your mother isn’t going to run in here the first second the car parks and hose you down.”
He laughed softly at your words, almost a scoff and your lip quirked up in a smile at his casual reaction, knowing his guard must be down since he was still so tired.
“She wouldn’t do that.” He eventually whispered and you could feel his shoulder pressing against yours. “At least the hose part.”
“Is she as bad as mine?” You weren’t sure what prompted you to ask him something so personal or why you were even making conversation with him in the first place but you were suddenly curious.
“Not sure.” He was looking at you, you could feel it on the side of your head. “My dad is though.”
You hummed as a response, already figuring that from the times you’d interacted with him and the way Jake talked about him earlier. You felt a sudden wave of discomfort at your current situation and fidgeted in your spot on the bed.
“Are you going to leave?” His voice was a whisper still and he wasn’t looking at you anymore from what you could tell. He sounded slightly upset like the thought of you leaving wasn’t pleasant.
“You wanted me to earlier.” You scoffed softly but it was humorless, for some reason feeling offended at the reminder despite knowingly doing everything in your power to make him uncomfortable for your own satisfaction.
He didn’t say anything for a while and you listened to him breathing softly, wondering if he caught on to the hint of insecurity you were accidentally showcasing.
“Well… I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then.” He eventually said and you barely heard him considering how low his voice had gotten.
“See you tomorrow Jake.”
——
Tuesday’s were another day that your schedule was slightly shifted after church service. You had always been instructed to some form of community service on that day of the week, wether is be picking up trash or teaching a small class to the elders and children.
You didn’t mind this despite your distaste for religion. You got some sick satisfaction from watching religious people interact, like babies excitedly chatting about fairy tails and wishing for a big grand gesture to fix their own shitty lives.
Plus it got you out of your house and kept you slightly on the good side of your mother typically although you doubt with your recent actions you’d ever be on that side of the fence again.
So it was particularly annoying when you were tasked to clean the church basement, an area usually unseen by anybody in the town including yourself.
It was a mess of overfilled shelves and baskets stacked to the brim with old holiday decorations or donations from past families that were never put to use.
You’d been hesitant to agree, having to try ten times harder than usual to apply your usual fake smile towards your father when you graciously nodded and accepted the task. Luckily a handful of other volunteers had also followed you down the creaky stairs, one of them being Jake.
Not on his own volition considering the way his eyes bulged out of his head when his father roughly nudged him as you stood at the center of the stage requesting helping hands. He hesitantly held his in the air and avoided making eye contact with you as you smiled happily.
The same smile you held now as you stood side by side with him, taking things off the shelves and throwing them into a trash pile. He looked more anxious than usual, like he was genuinely worried you’d try to do something to him while people were watching.
“Miss Y/N?” One of the older women who had volunteered was approaching the two of you, holding a small basket of, what looked like, old arts and crafts. “I found this and was wondering if you thought your father might want to hang them up in the youth study room?”
“I think that’s a wonderful idea ma’am.” You were smiling widely at her, eyes soft and full of light. “You should bring them up to him.”
She was smiling appreciatively at you before turning and heading back up the stairs, missing the way your smile immediately dropped back into a blank expression.
Jake however, didn’t miss it and you heard him scoff from next to you as he observed the interaction. You glanced at him with a raised eyebrow and he shrugged.
“Don’t you get tired of doing that all the time?” He questioned and you faltered slightly. You hadn’t ever really considered it as something you were doing necessarily so his statement threw you off.
“I don’t know… I do it with everybody. I just do it.” You shrugged and awkwardly looked away from him, feeling confronted.
“You don’t do it with me.” He suddenly declared and you were reminded that you didn’t actually know Jake or his personality that well, completely caught off guard by his bluntness.
“Maybe because I knew you were just as bad as me.” You dropped your voice into a small whisper, leaning closer to him slightly as he glanced around to see which volunteers were over in your side of the basement.
He picked up an old toy and tossed it off in the distance, shaking his head in denial. “That’s not true at all.”
“Why isn’t it?” You cocked your head at him and stopped rummaging through the shelf, more interested in what he was saying. You turned your body so you were facing him and could lean against the wood.
“I believe in this.” He looked around the room as if to emphasize what he was referring to. “I love god.”
“Do you? Or have you just been told to?” You were already sure of the answer but you were curious what he would say about that, if he’s ever sat and thought that over or if his faith was really that unwavering.
“I never questioned it before.” He confirmed with a stern voice, sending you a sharp look so you would understand he was serious. “Not once in my life until we moved here. Not once until..”
He trailed off but the implication was heavy and he looked away with a bright flush on his face. He was obviously referring to you and you felt a small spark of satisfaction at the fact he was implying you were the first thing to ever make him doubt, implying that he was doubting at all.
He scowled slightly when he noticed the bright smile that was on your face, one you didn’t even realize you had.
“I’m serious Y/N. If anyone ever found out I…” He didn’t finish his sentence again but you could get the gist of what he was implying, your smile dropping into a frown.
“You think I don’t know that? The stakes are way higher on my side of things incase you forgot.” Your tone was harsher now but you were taking a step closer to him, not bothering to check if anybody was watching. “But you’re mine right? Like you said?”
He didn’t say anything for a minute, turning to face you and taking a big gulp when he realized you were practically close enough to kiss now. You waited for him to say something against your claim, to tell you he had been lust drunk or he didn’t mean it.
Instead he slowly nodded, eyes shooting down awkwardly to your feet. His shy expression was one you were more familiar seeing him with and your smile returned.
“Can you come over today?” You whispered and he looked back at you with a shocked expression, clearly not expecting you to say that. “I have something to show you.”
He was nodding again, not trusting himself to speak without stuttering and you grinned, turning back to the shelf and continuing with your sorting.
——
By the time church was over and Jake got to your house, you were already sat outside on the porch in a big sweater and a scarf wrapped around your neck.
“Are we not.. going in?” He was standing at the end of your driveway, putting his bikes kickstand down and watching you with a confused expression.
“I said I had to show you something didn’t I?” He watched you as you stood from the cement slab, grabbing your own bike from off the side of your house and walking it down towards him with a half smile.
He didn’t say anything as you both got on your bikes, following behind you as you rode off the curb and down the street.
The ride was long and cold, the sky grey as you passed by old houses and empty shops that’d been abandoned as the owners aged. Jake found the town sad a bit but he was curious what you were leading him too and slightly excited that you wanted to spend time with him in a different way than normal.
Eventually you were crossing the threshold of the city limit, a big sign with chipping paint that was welcoming you in or wishing you safe travels out.
After that it wasn’t long before you were slowing to a stop, surrounded by trees and a large field. Jake watched you get off your bike with a raised eyebrow, waiting until you looked back at him with a beckoning hand.
“It’s this way.” You urged and he hopped off, pushing the bikes alongside each other until you were on the other side of the muddy field, approaching a large river. The sound of it was loud as it rushed but not loud enough to block out the noise of the highway across from it, just off in the distance.
Jake watched it as you unpacked your backpack that he didn’t even realize you’d been wearing until now, unfolding a thick blanket and laying it down on the wet grass.
“They can’t build houses over here because the river always overflows.” You started to explain, pulling out a thermos and something wrapped in paper towel as you talked. “The water levels higher than usual because all the rain we get.”
“Sometimes I wonder if they even know we are over here.” You continued with a scoff, sitting criss cross on the blanket now and looking over at Jake who was dropping his bike.
He sat down too, carefully keeping his wet and muddy shoes off of the fabric.
“Do you come here a lot?” He was muttering what felt like his first words of the day, looking around the area and seeing virtually no signs of civilization other than the highway. He wondered for a second if you had even been able to hear him over the sound of it.
“I guess. There isn’t much else to do if you haven’t noticed by now.” You were shrugging as you spoke, you stuck one of your legs out so it nudged against his.
“I’ve been pretty occupied since I’ve gotten here so I guess I didn’t.” His words made you laugh although he was being serious, only having gone from home to church to your room.
He didn’t say anything as you laughed and he still didn’t when you were suddenly moving out of your sitting position, crawling towards him on all fours until you could press yourself against him.
Every part of you was touching as you sat side by side, both facing the rushing river and trying to not focus on how cold it was outside, the sky slowly darkening now since it was around dinner time. That reminded you that you had packed sandwiches and you were leaning forward slightly to reach them, handing him one and watching him unwrap the paper towel in confusion.
His cheeks turned red when he saw what it was, glancing at you and nodding softly in appreciation before taking a bite.
“Why are we here?” He was breaking the silence the two of you had fallen into as you ate and passed the warm thermos back and forth, watching the highway and the building traffic.
“I don’t know.” You felt strangely vulnerable at this question, not really knowing yourself why you’d taken him to such a private place. “Don’t think too deeply about it.”
Your sudden change of tone made him frown and tense against you, a harshness seeping into your words as you reminded him what type of relationship you had going here.
To further prove your point that this wasn’t anything being sin and attraction, you were quickly turning your upper body so you could face him before leaning forward and pressing into a kiss. He froze completely for a few seconds, brain short circuiting at the sudden contact.
Then he was closing his eyes slowly and kissing you back, a low him of appreciation slipping through your lips and vibrating against his.
You turned your body more so you could climb over his legs, straddling him and making a small noise of surprise when his hands were immediately on your lower back, tugging you in tighter against him.
The two of you kissed like that for a while, you sitting comfortably in his lap and feeling him grow hard underneath you embarrassingly quick. He felt strong and sturdy under you but he was letting out little whines and whimpers and he kept trying to pull you in closer, almost like he was trying to merge the two of you together.
Then you were sitting up on your knees and tugging your long skirt up so it was bunched around your hips, mouth parting slightly at the feeling of the cold air nipping at your bare skin. He watched you with confusion, eyes darting around your legs so fast he felt dizzy.
You sat back down on his hard on, now only separated by his jeans and your underwear and he let out a low moan, shooting forward and ducking his head forward into your neck.
“Y/N.” He whined out and you shushed him, petting his hair and rocking your hips slowly against him, liking the way his mouth parted against your skin as he took deep shuddering breaths.
“I want you to feel me.” You were whispering into his hair and he picked his up in alarm, shaking his head and glancing down at your exposed lap.
“I- I don’t know how.” He was rushing out and you laughed softly, reaching down to grab his wrist off the blanket and pick his hand up.
You placed it against your stomach like it was the other day when he was pressing on it absentmindedly, letting him feel the smooth skin above your underwear line for a while before pushing his hand down slightly past the elastic and listening to his gasp.
You were still rocking against him but slower now, letting him feel you for the first time at his own pace and trying not to overwhelm him.
His hand was shaking fast, from the cold and nerves. You imagined he could feel his own hand pressing against his cock as he kept moving it down, trapping it between the both of you. You dipped down again when he hesitatingly stopped moving it once he was fully in your underwear and he let out a cry at the feeling of your wetness against his skin.
“W-what?” He was crying out in concern, eyes shooting up to look at yours. “Are you okay? Are you bleeding?”
“I’m wet.” You explained to him with a breathy voice despite the fact you knew he didn’t understand what that would mean or if it was good or bad. “Means I feel good, you make me feel good.”
That seemed to alarm him more than the idea of you bleeding, his hand instinctively twitching and pressing against you. You leaned down to kiss him again and he reciprocated, forgetting his hand was on you for a few seconds before you were lowering your hips again.
He wasn’t doing anything but just the feeling of his large hands cupping you was making you feel dizzy, rocking against him again despite the strange noise he let out.
“Touch me baby c’mon.” He looked up at you at the sound of your urging, eyes big and wet. He looked nervous but he hesitatingly moved his fingers, curling slightly and pressing against your clit. You let out a cry and he immediately froze, mistaking it for pain. “No Jake, it’s okay do it again.”
He didn’t look sure but he followed your instructions anyways, curling his hand up and being amazed by the way you threw your head back in a small cry.
The two of you seemed to forget about your surroundings, about the rushing lake or the freezing air that was only making the cold grass more bitter to sit in. You almost forgot who you were or the fact you were only a few minutes outside of town, practically riding Jake in a field visible to anyone who cared.
“You’re so pretty.” You remarked and he frowned at your gentle word causing you to lean forward and kiss him softly. “I want to keep you forever.”
You were too lust drunk to think about the heavy implication of your words or the fact saying them went against everything you’d previously been attempting. The whole reason you’d even started touching him today was to distract him from the fact you’d taken him to a place personal to you, to make him forget your act of kindness.
“You can keep me.” He was stuttering out in a high voice, not really sure if you meant what you were saying considering how confusing he found you, how strange this whole situation was.
Jake had accepted at some point that his life was changing now and for some reason, god had put you in his path. At first he figured you were some type of test of faith, if he could just ignore you and your evil nature then he’d be able to prove he was a good man, a holy man. But he began to wonder eventually if you were truly as terrible as he originally thought, as his mother kept remarking every time his father wasn’t in the room.
You made him cry and you occasionally would say terrible things to him. And it was no doubt you had a habit of sinning and making him sin, even when he didn’t want to.
But he thought you were kind at other times and he could tell by the way you zoned out in church during service and were nice to the young residents or helpful to the old, that you didn’t have no emotion. Maybe you were right, although you had a twisted way of teaching him about it.
You were leaning down to kiss him again and he was taking his hand out of your underwear, wiping it on his pants briefly before cupping your face in both his palms and keeping you there.
“Did I ruin you?” You were muttering against his panting mouth with a small smile, hands petting his hair affectionately.
“Almost.” He answered with a slight laugh, kissing you again.
——
By the time you and Jake had left the field, giggling together while you stuffed the wet blanket back into your backpack and jumped over mud puddles, the sun was set and gone.
You followed the streetlights home, walking the bikes side by side the entire time so the 20 minute ride turned into an hour walk.
You went a few streets without talking for a while, listening to the sounds of your tires rolling over gravel or the music nature provided from the surrounding woods just off in the distance. By the time you were crossing back into city limits and setting your sights on the abandoned buildings on the outskirts of town, your curiosity was weighing on you.
“Why did you move here anyways?” You were mumbling on accident so you weren’t sure he had heard you until he cleared his throat.
“A council member caught dad hitting mom.” He said it casually and you wondered if he was used to it or it was a practiced tone. “I guess they thought it’d look bad to punish him there so they sent us away.”
“Does he hit you too?” You weren’t sure why you asked that considering you were already pretty positive of the answer.
“Yeah sometimes.” He shrugged and tried not to fidget at the feeling of you watching him, kicking at a loose rock in the gravel road. “I think he’s mad I’m not very manly.”
“I think you’re manly.” You were frowning and furrowing your eyebrows, only deepening when you heard him let out a disbelieving scoff. “I’m serious.”
And you were. Despite Jake’s outwardly timid personality and the way he basically turned into a nervous obedient puppy everytime you got your hands on him, he was clearly a man. Both in his broad athletic build and in his day to day actions and personality. He was blunt and honest, telling you what he felt even if he thought it might anger you.
“Yeah, whatever.” He was whispering, still not trusting what you were saying and you froze in your tracks, stood directly under a streetlight. He slowed to a stop when he realized you were walking anymore and looked back at you in confusion.
“You wouldn’t have picked on me if I was manly.” He was explaining once he caught sight of your frustrated expression. “You probably wouldn’t have even noticed me.”
“You think I’m picking on you?” You ignored his second statement for now, eyes darkening at the implication of the first.
You weren’t sure why it struck a nerve within you considering he wasn’t half wrong. You had originally sought him out as a victim for you, an experiment or a game. Maybe even a way to further upset your mother, but you didn’t think he thought you were picking on him entirely.
“I don’t know what to think.” He was shaking his head and his eyes looked sad. He started to push his bike again and you rushed to catch up with him. “This is just confusing.”
“Well I’m not.” You kept your voice firm in an attempt to assure him and he didn’t say anything else, sparing you a long glance before looking back forward so he didn’t accidentally hit a pothole.
The two of you didn’t talk anymore after that, walking in a comfortable silence as you slowly got to a more familiar area for him and he realized you were slowly approaching his neighborhood. You must be planning on dropping him off before making you own way home he decided.
Those plans were quickly halted when you turned the corner of his street and saw your own parents car in his driveway, right next to the Sim’s. You both froze in place and stared in front of you in horror.
“Maybe it’s a coincidence.” He whispered and you jumped at the sudden sound of his voice, the words shaking slightly. “We can tell them we got caught up studying at the park.”
“If they’re here they already know.” You immediately stated in a flat voice, having a sick gut feeling as you looked at the two cars. The lights were on in Jake’s living room and you could vaguely make out multiple shadows walking around inside. “I don’t understand.”
“Maybe your dad heard something the other day.” He was rushing out in a hush, looking at you and your uncharacteristically frozen figure. He’d never seen you scared before and it made his skin crawl. “Or that lady in the basement.”
“No that’s not possible, I was-“ Your words faltered and you sucked in a panicked breath, trying to recall the two incidents he was talking about. You had been so caught up in your giddiness to talk to him that you hadn’t paid attention to your surroundings this morning at all, saying damning idiotic things to him in the church of all places.
His hand was coming up and brushing against your arm that was covered in goosebumps. “Go home. I’ll think of a cover for you, I’ll handle it.”
You looked at him with big eyes, suddenly overwhelmed by his presence and the fact he was willingly to lie for you so easily, willing to sin to both his parents and yours so you could be spared from punishment.
“I can’t leave you with them.” You were shaking your head in earnest and he deflated, understanding immediately there was no way of talking you out of it.
You both stood there for a few more beats, staring at each other under the street light and you briefly wondered if you’d see him again after this. You weren’t sure what your parents knew or if they were just following a strong hunch but you knew it didn’t matter. The second they suspected anything, atleast the men, you wouldn’t be allowed to see Jake anymore.
Eventually he took the first step, setting his bike down at the corner of the street and nudging for you to follow suit although you gave him a confused glance.
Following closely behind him, you tried to match his slow casual pace approaching the door and almost felt like you were going to throw up on the porch when he pushed it open without knocking, deciding to not give them any warning you were approaching.
The sight was just as dreadful as you imagined it would be, your parents sat on the Sim’s old couch while his were standing at attention and listening to whatever it was your father had been saying before your arrival.
All heads turned in your direction when you entered, half looking surprised you were together and the others showing no reaction. Your mother was immediately leaping up from the couch and approaching you with a scowl.
You felt her hand hitting your cheek before you even processed she was crossing the room, your head shooting sideways as your own palms came up to grasp your face in shock. Despite your differences, your mother had never directly struck you.
“You’re a disgrace.” She spat, literally, in your direction and you vaguely saw Jake flinch in your direction like he wanted to grab you. “No more games little girl, they finally see what I have all these years.”
One glance in your fathers direction told you she was telling the truth. He’d never been a good father but he wasn’t cruel, choosing religion over warmth and parenting. So upon seeing his cold stare you automatically knew things were too far gone.
“And you.” She was turning to sneer in Jake’s direction now and you were slightly surprised to see him square back his shoulders, jaw clenching. “How can you be so stupid?”
“Mary, please advise yourself on how you speak to my son.” Jake’s mother was piling up from the couch “I thought we agreed that your daughter is the one at fault here.”
“What?” Jake was spitting out and your eyes widened, wanting to tell him to shut up and let it run its course. “It was as much me as it was her.”
“No it wasn’t.” You were shaking your head at lightning speed, taking a step forward but rocking back again when your mother shot a glare in your direction. “It was all me.”
Jake was glaring at you but you knew he held no anger, only frustration that you were attempting to take the punishment for this. He was crazy to think you wouldn’t considering it was all your doing in the first place.
“It doesn’t matter.” Your fathers cool and calm voice was ringing out and everybody turned to look at him. “Tomorrow morning Y/N will be sent to a correctional school. I should’ve listened to your mother when she begged me to send you years ago.”
Your eyes were watering as you looked at him with pure betrayal. Despite your hatred for your town, for your longing to leave and never return you felt an overwhelming sense of panic at the thought of being sent away. You looked over at Jake to find him already watching you with the same panic in his eyes.
Then he was turning back towards your father with a shake of his head and a stony expression. “I won’t let you do that.”
Jake’s father scoffed, making his first noise of the night and you glanced over at his large frame. He was watching Jake with disgust and amusement but you saw a faint hint of a challenge in his eyes.
“And what will you do son?” He was approaching Jake with a sneer, looking down at him. Jake raised his chin to meet his stare, his hands shaking against his sides. “You can’t even protect your own mother.”
It was said in a whisper so only Jake could hear it but you were standing close enough to faintly catch it, mouth parting in shock at his blunt admission before opening further when Jake was suddenly moving faster than you could even pinpoint when he had started.
Jake was on his father before he even had a chance to prepare for it and you could hear the shrieks of the women, your own fathers grunts as he jumped off the couch to try and control the situation. You were standing on the side, hands out and trying to grip a hold of Jake’s jacket to tug him back when he glanced back at your hurriedly while his dad was disoriented.
“Go.” He mouthed the word at you and you felt your heart shatter slightly, shaking your head in denial before he gave you a firm nod and a soft smile.
You could do nothing but watch in horror as his dad took advantage of him being distracted, slamming Jake onto the ground, nearly blocking the front door. You took your chance to run before somebody realized you were going to and stopped you, sparing Jake one last look before heading out the door.
You aggressively wiped your tears as you ran down the street, sobbing as you could still hear the screams and grunts of pain from Jake coming from the door you’d left open. Your cheek was stinging still but you powered through it, letting the cold numb you as you hopped on your bike you’d abandoned under the light and started peddling so hard your thighs burned.
The wind was howling as you sped past your own neighborhood and the church, the empty buildings a blur through your teary eyes and you fell off your bike once you finally approached the field you’d been in earlier that day, landing in the mud with a cry.
You left your bike near the entrance, wobbling closer to the river with harsh sobs ripping through you, your knees and skirt dripping in mud.
For a moment you wondered if this was it. If you’d been wrong your entire life about religion and sin and this was god letting you know he was here and he was furious with you for the evil you let harvest.
If taking Jake and hurting him was all because you had done bad things and harmed the people around you. You let out a scream of frustration and looked up at the dark grey, wanting to tell him you didn’t care if he was watching and it wasn’t fair.
Instead you let yourself fall against the wet grass, curling into a ball and hugging your knees to your chest as you listened to the rushing river and the honks of traffic. You briefly remembered you were still wearing your backpack and it contained a blanket you could cover up with but you had no energy left to reach back to get it.
You weren’t sure how long you laid there crying, the sky getting darker and darker as you sat and waited.
You weren’t positive what you were even waiting for. Maybe for your parents to come searching for you so they could drag you away to some far away place or maybe the more hopeful part of you was waiting for Jake to come, to tell you he was okay.
The thought of him made you cry harder when you remembered the sounds he was making as you ran out and how furious his father looked about being struck. A man with an ego was dangerous especially when it got wounded.
Waves of guilt were rushing over you for dragging Jake into your twisted fantasies, for wanting to keep him even after you’d gotten what you wanted. For liking him despite not knowing you were capable of that until he arrived. You wished the river would fill up and swallow you inside it.
Over all the combined sounds you barely registered a few being added.
You didn’t hear the sound of the bike tires approaching, or the splashing of the mud puddles underneath hurried feet. You didn’t hear his worried pants or the desperate call of your name in the distance.
It wasn’t until he was there did you feel him, it wasn’t until he was reaching down to grab your arm.
Not until it was skin on skin.
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cherubfae · 1 month
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Hello! I'm not sure if you do single characters or not but What if the reader (who's a big fan of horror) wanted to show Alastor some classic horror movies. Their reasoning? "So you can make fun of it," If you do a collection of characters, then it can be like a movie night for the hotel.
Hiya love!! Yes, I do! In fact I'm currently working on a longer Alastor fic at the moment :)) it's like this request was made for me bc I 100% will force Alastor to watch the Scream franchise with me 😭 it's my fave. I'm a mega horror fan, haha! Maybe I'll have to write for slashers again like I used to! I'll just write Al since he deserves some love for himself!! Pls excuse me bc now I'm gonna be thinking about 1920s GhostFace Alastor 😩😩🩷💕
What's Your Favorite Scary Movie? || Alastor x reader
tags: fluff, gn!reader, Alastor critiquing horror media, plot to the Scream franchise, my horror obsession might be showing lmao
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Getting Alastor to have anything to do with post 1930s technology was a task and a half. He might've made a deal with Vaggie not to have anything to do with such frivolous technology, but you weren't Vaggie. You were his sweet, dear partner. And he'd never admit just how tightly wrapped he was around your finger.
He seemed to genuinely enjoy the first few Halloween movies as well as the first Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Alastor took a great of interest with Hannibal Lector from The Silence of Lambs. He was deeply considering watching the television series you told him of. He thinks Freddy Krueger is a piece of shit and wished he could do him in with his own hands.
The next movie, however, seemed more susceptible to being torn to pieces by his ever-watchful eye.
"So the point of this picture show is what... Billy is angry because his mother abandoned him and he doesn't know how to deal with those big feelings at his age?" Alastor gives an indignant snort, looking bemused at the old television screen currently playing a VHS of Wes Craven's 1996 slasher classic Scream. That's as new of tech as Alastor would allow, so you made do.
Snorting out a laugh, you lean against his arm. Alastor's crackling gaze flickers to you his smile softening around the edges. He did very much adore your laugh.
"That about sums it up, yes," you grin, biting down on the corner of your chocolate bar.
Alastor leans his back against the sofa, pulling the blanket wrapped around you two closer. "I don't know how that Macher boy thinks that peer pressure is a justifiable defense for murdering people." He unwraps his own piece of bitter chocolate and pops it into his mouth. "Own up to your choices, for Heaven's sake. And people find these two attractive? Are they not in love with one another? Surely anyone with two good working eyes could see this."
The sixth Scream movie damn near has Alastor foaming at the mouth, each and every movie felt as repetitive as the last with slight twists and changes. He was polite to keep most critiques to himself, eyeing how much you clearly enjoyed showing something so near and dear to your heart. While the plot was rather lackluster, he had to admit he was interested in the severe brutality of the sixth and despite his opposition to new media, felt that it was a decent enough film. With such a repetitive storyline, he didn't really expect that sort of twist.
"There's one more we can watch!" You grin, holding up your copy of Scary Movie. Alastor's eyes look ready to pop out of his skull as if to say 'Oh god, another??' "I don't think you'll guess who the GhostFace is!"
"Is it the man called Doofy?"
|| I DON'T GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORKS TO BE REPOSTED, RESHARED, OR EDITED. TUMBLR IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT AND THE ONLY PLACE WHERE I POST MY WRITING. ALL CHARACTERS BELONG TO THEIR RIGHTFUL OWNERS, THE STORY BELONGS TO ME. || CHERUBFAE © 2024
"What the fuck-- how."
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ms-demeanor · 7 months
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since twitter has become actively hostile to its users, so they came to tumblr, and reddit has become actively hostile to its users, so they came to tumblr, what do we do now that tumblr is becoming (more) actively hostile to its users? i’ve been here for over a decade so i know tumblr users are the type to cling on despite everything and revel in undoing every change, but i’m so tired of the way this website breaks the way it fundamentally works in order to appeal to new users. the twitterfication of the site seems so much worse than when people jumped ship after the porn ban, and even then, only small communities (and twitter) cropped up as solutions. you might not be the person to ask for a definitive answer, but i figured a tech blog might be interested in considering - what do we do when there’s nowhere left to go?
Okay so, I mean this very seriously: how has tumblr meaningfully become like twitter?
I don't personally find the sidebar view obnoxious and it seems to me like just another layout change that's pretty typical to tumblr. New users are getting signed up with a bit more emphasis on algorithmic feeds, but that is still very easy to change (MUCH easier than on any other social platform) and the algorithm has been there for everyone for quite a while, we just typically don't notice it because a lot of long-term tumblr users don't go into the "for you" feed.
I don't think that tumblr *has* fundamentally broken the way that it works to appeal to new users. My dash now is still very much like my dash in 2019, and still very much like my dash in 2018 (though much less pornographic). Reblogs are still reblogs, likes are still likes. Replies, for all that they seem like they've been around forever, are new and good and I think they work well. I'm irritated that the notes menu doesn't have a "view all" option but I think that's a worthwhile tradeoff for an easy way to see tags.
I *do not* understand why tumblr has broken linking back to previous reblogs but I don't think that's out of an effort to act like twitter; it is a bizarre choice that I dislike and don't understand but I also don't think that it has fundamentally changed the way the site works and i mean you've been around long enough that I'm sure you've had the same experience I have of going into the notes of a post and randomly clicking until you found a version that you wanted to reblog without a bunch of bullshit at the bottom. Tumblr has always kind of sucked, this change DOES suck but it doesn't suck in a way that is particularly novel or insurmountable. (For instance, I think this change sucks MUCH LESS than when they made posts with links invisible to the search, that is something that is genuinely bad that has been long lasting but doesn't get brought up much in lists of the ways that tumblr has gone wrong)
Tumblr *is* changing, but I think it is changing more incrementally and less terribly than other parts of the internet. I also hate the floating clown, the login walls, the dash-only view for blogs (you can't archive it and I HATE that), and - to an extent - the new lightbox on mobile. And I dislike that less than I thought I would but I don't think it's a fundamental change that necessarily impacts my interactions with the site - it *adds* a feature that I don't care for but it doesn't *break* anything that I require to have a good time on tumblr - in that way I think of it very much like Live. People hate Live so much and I find that perplexing because it is so easy to simply ignore it.
But that's not really your question; that's just some stuff I want people to think about because as much as tumblr has changed in the last two years it is nowhere near as fucked up as the recent things that twitter and reddit have pulled.
So, as to your question: where do we go?
Well. Not to be an extremely old person on the internet, but damned if I don't miss email lists. And forums. God I miss forums. Neither of those things has all the bonuses of platforms like twitter or reddit or tumblr or facebook, but they were great ways to hang out with people you liked on the internet.
The internet is changing. I can feel it, you can feel it, I'm pretty sure we're all like cattle in a field lifting our noses and hearing some distant rumbling and becoming slowly aware that it's almost time to run. There's a coming stampede and it isn't here yet but you know it's on its way. You're not imagining that, that's how things feel right now and there are a shitload of things contributing to it.
Things like SESTA/FOSTA and KOSA (which has not passed yet but is a big red flag waving on the horizon) have been eroding away the way that users on various platforms can function. Some platforms have consolidated in ways that harm users; some new platforms have popped up and shaken up the map of the internet; some platforms are being torn apart brick by brick by owners who don't care about the users. It kind of seems like people are actually looking up and realizing that advertising is A) bad and B) doesn't actually work and I think we're running straight toward another advertising-based crash like we saw in 2017. It feels like all the desperate things that tumblr is doing is just rearranging deck chairs on the titanic as the internet as a whole starts to sink into the ocean.
Honestly, I don't think it's that bad. I think it *feels* bad, but I think we're looking at a slow whimpering death of the platforms, not a bang. I think tumblr is going to hang on at least for a few years and I think it's going to end up like livejournal and myspace, which both still exist as websites that are recognizable as updated versions of the sites they were in 2004-2010. The thing that I think would really, honestly hurt tumblr in a fundamental way is if it moved to a more algorithmic and data-sales based model of advertising, and I think that's still pretty distant. I think Automattic is aware that killing the chronological feed would be the one unforgivable sin that would cause a mass exodus and a final crash, and I think when we see that, when we can't just scroll through the feed and see what our friends did that day in order of when they did it, that's when the party is over here.
But that's still not answering your question.
So, where do we go? What do we do? Well, for now, I'd say it's a good time to get contact info for your friends across various platforms. Get email addresses, get phone numbers.
Now is also the time for you to set up a personal website. NeoCities is currently the best place to do this, though it takes a lot more effort than just starting a blog on tumblr. I think that various oldschool blogging sites like Wordpress and Blogger/Blogspot/whatever the hell the google one is are a better place to have your emergency backup than a more platform-y platform if you aren't up to doing something with NeoCities.
If you've got the ability to do so and a group of people who are interested in the same core subject, set up a forum. There's a decent amount of off-the-shelf forum software out there and a text-and-small-images forum isn't prohibitively expensive, but it's never going to be huge and you're never going to have the kind of spread and virality and random connections that you would on a platform with millions or billions of users.
If you can't set up a forum, setting up or joining a discord server for your friends is a decent enough option at the moment, and may be a very good option for people who are looking to keep their interactions more private.
But yeah i think right now is a great time for people to start setting up their own personal websites, to start visiting actual webpages again, to start bookmarking their friends' websites, and to start collecting contact info that isn't tied to platforms.
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proxima-writes · 11 months
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all fics are “x female reader” unless otherwise noted. tags and warnings can be found on individual posts. 
MULTI-CHAPTER/PART
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cruel summer | au | explicit | chapters: 6/6
Joel takes a contracting job renovating a master bedroom and bathroom while the homeowners are away for the summer on a cruise. He wasn’t expecting their twenty-three year old daughter and the thoughts he’d have about her.
↳AO3 | Tumblr: chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3 | chapter 4 | chapter 5 | chapter 6
my tears ricochet | au | explicit | parts: i/iii
After moving from New York to Texas with your fiance, you expect to jump right into wedding planning with his help. When he claims to be too busy, he suggests asking his best friend, Joel miller, to help you instead. You weren't supposed to fall in love with him.
↳ Tumblr: part i | part ii | part iii
CONNECTED WORKS
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crimson red paint on my lips | post-outbreak | explicit | connected work
Joel Miller is an asshole. You should have known better than to show up at his door with your lips painted red. Connected to me and the devil and marked me like a bloodstain
↳AO3 | Tumblr
me and the devil | post-outbreak | explicit | connected work
Joel doesn’t take kindly to the attention you’ve been receiving from a FEDRA agent. Connected to crimson red paint on my lips and marked me like a bloodstain
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marked me like a bloodstain | post-outbreak | explicit | connected work
You save Joel’s life when the two of you are attacked on a smuggling run. He has an interesting way of saying thank you. Connected to crimson red paint on my lips and me and the devil
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the babysitter - part one | au | explicit | connected work
Joel comes home from a night out with Tommy and finds the babysitter asleep on the couch. A man can only withstand so much temptation.
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the babysitter - part two | au | explicit | connected work
Joel is ready to move on from last week's....incident. You're not going to let him off the hook that easy.
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karma is my boyfriend’s dad | au | explicit | connected work
Your boyfriend, Sean Miller, is an asshole. The one redeeming thing about him? His dad, Joel Miller. And he's just invited you along on the family vacation to Panama City Beach, Florida.
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those vacation blues | au | explicit | connected work
It's the last day of vacation and Joel intends to make it count. Part Two to karma is my boyfriend’s dad.
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in a feud with her neighbor | au | explicit | connected work
Five times you think Joel Miller is the worst neighbor ever, and the one time he isn’t.
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bonus scenes: in a feud with her neighbor | au | PG-13 | connected work
Fluffy bonus scenes for "in a feud with her neighbor" as suggested by anon!
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ONE-SHOTS
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toyin’ with them older guys | au | explicit | one-shot
Joel Miller is the grumpy bartender and owner of your favorite bar near campus, where you attend trivia every Tuesday night. Thinking there’s no way Joel could return your feelings, your friend suggests trying out Tinder. But when you bring them to the bar for a date, they keep leaving mid date with no explanation. Maybe there’s something Joel isn’t telling you after all.
↳AO3 | Tumblr
help me hold onto you | post-outbreak | explicit | one-shot
Joel always tries his best to keep his mind from wandering to its darkest corners, but occasionally, the frayed threads holding him together with sloppy stitches start to unravel. Sometimes you need to give him something to hold onto.
↳AO3 | Tumblr
a million moments | pre-outbreak | explicit | one-shot
A slice of a happy life with Joel Miller.
↳AO3 | Tumblr
jealous, jealous, jealous | au | explicit | one-shot
You’re invited out to the bar with Tommy and Joel Miller. Joel doesn’t take it well when you and Tommy flirt during a game of darts.
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father’s day | post-outbreak | not rated | one-shot
Father’s Day is hard for Joel Miller after losing his daughter. [gender neutral reader]
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stranger than a stranger | post-outbreak | explicit | one-shot
When Joel sees you searching for supplies in an old school, he removes your companion from the equation and convinces you that you need to join him for your survival.
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siren song | post-outbreak | explicit | one-shot 
Staying with Tommy in Jackson comes with one caveat - the temptation of you in the bedroom next door. Warning - involves Tommy Miller x female reader.
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moments we stole | au | explicit | one-shot
It''s your dad's 40th birthday party and you can't help yourself from flirting with his best friend, Joel Miller.
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seven | post-outbreak | explicit | one-shot
Joel Miller has spent twenty years pushing the grief and guilt surrounding the death of his daughter, Sarah, to the darkest recesses of his brain in favor of survival. Living a more quiet life in Jackson means the ghosts of his past have returned to haunt him. He finds his solace in you, the town librarian.
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the last great american dynasty | au | explicit | one-shot
Joel Miller has loved the historic Victorian home in his neighborhood since the first time he laid eyes on it. When the elderly owner passes, he thinks he might get his chance to finally buy it and fix it up. He doesn’t expect to find you, the granddaughter of the previous owner and trustee of her estate, standing in the way of his dream.
↳Tumblr | AO3
what i want | post-outbreak | explicit | one-shot
Joel comes home from a rough day of patrol and you know just what he needs.
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says it feels like heaven to him | post-outbreak | explicit | one-shot
Joel comes home from poker night feeling frisky.
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the old college try | au | explicit | one-shot
Family Weekend, or DILF Day as you and your friends like to refer to it, is when the University of Texas encourages the parents and families of its student body to visit the school and participate in activities that the Division of Student Affairs has organized. The fraternities and sororities have their own schedule that includes not-so-sanctioned house parties on frat row following the game. It’s your senior year and your last DILF Day so you’re hoping to go out with a bang. Enter Joel Miller, handsome single dad visiting his son at the Theta Lambda Upsilon fraternity house.
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no closer could i be to god | post-outbreak | explicit | one-shot
The closest he’s been to a god in these last few miserable years has been between your thighs.
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the right wrong number | au | explicit | one-shot
When Joel receives a dirty text from an unknown number, he gives into his curiosity and messages back. He doesn’t expect the number to belong to his daughter’s summer camp soccer coach.
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swimmin’ pool glimmerin’, darlin’ | au | explicit | one-shot
Your husband is frequently away for business. You may be a housewife, but you're certainly not lonely.  Not when Joel Miller of Miller's Water Works shows up to clean your pool.
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a very furby christmas | pre-outbreak | not rated | one-shot
It’s Christmas Eve 1998 and Joel Miller thinks everything is perfect. Well, until his brother admits he didn’t get Sarah the one present she wanted - the Furby. Now, Joel has to go out on Christmas Eve to find the year’s hottest toy that’s been sold out for months. Turns out, you’re on the same mission. And you’ve both found the last Furby in town.
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real gods require blood | post-outbreak | explicit | one-shot
You think you’re as good as dead when a band of raiders find you. In what you think are your final moments, an angel appears. His name is Joel Miller, and he is here to deliver you from evil.
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grab the bull by the horns | pre-outbreak | explicit | one-shot
Joel agrees to go out to Tommy’s favorite bar, where he watches you ride a mechanical bull and wishes you would ride him.
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