#don’t listen to the preacher

[sebsxphia]

♡ | sleeping naked with rhett in the hot summer | ♡

♡ | i want rhett to love me so much he eats me | ♡

♡ | ❝ 'cause in your pickup truck with all of your dumb luck is the only place i think i'd ever wanna be. ❞ | ♡

#rhett abbott #don’t question this #i’ve listened to preachers daughter another three times tonight #sebs spiral

[cithaerons]

i’m not a favorite band person but pink floyd is probably the one band i’ve listened very consistently from age like 13 until now

#like other bands i still think are objectively good like the beatles and nirvana and manic street preachers but i don’t listen to them much #these days….. #i guess i do listen to the manics sometimes but the other two almost never #and most of the music i listen to regularly now was not even on my radar back then

[saintturpentine]

was gonna tattoo myself today but chickened out cause I’d have to hide it for a month

#I cant wait to be 18 #it was an Ethel Cain tattoo too #I was listening to preachers daughter in class trying not to cry #i fucking love Ethel Cain #I’ll commit to the tattoo in a couple weeks #just don’t want to hide it for so long #cause I’m lazy #too much work

[punkinpiemanic]

What do you mean that Nicky Wire just recently got his license and he wasn’t one of those soccer dads jamming to Kesha full volume in the 2010’s taking his kids to school. What the fuck.

#manic street preachers #nicky wire #i might be listening to Kesha don’t mind me

[phitzybabie]

i’ve been listening to Thoroughfare by Ethel Cain on repeat for hours

this song is giving me a whole religious experience



#i don’t usually listen to much Ethel Cain #but holy shit Thoroughfare is so good #ethel cain #preachers daughter

[the-soliloquies-of-sadists]

#391

“What? You think you are done faggot?  Get back into place.  I said, ‘Faggot, get back into place.’  No, no, no, you ain’t Kevin no more, not after I saw four men take turns spit roasting you.  You are Faggot from this point on.  Now it’s my turn to bust my nut….

“This changes everything between us.  About time it does.  I’m tired of hearing about Jesus.  When my right-wing cousin asked me to take the 20-year-old son of a friend of hers along with me to see if he would like truck driving, I was reluctant.  She told me you were a quiet boy who needed to come out of a shell.  I filled out all the paperwork with the company so you could ride with me. 

“Bend over the picnic table with your cunt pointing at that garbage can.

“When we met, I knew you were a faggot right away.  You followed me into the men’s room.  I started to get a boner right there.  I saw you glancing at my dick at the urinals.  I knew it was going to be a great two weeks together.  But not ten minutes in my cab, I was hearing how much you love Jesus, and I knew this was not going to be good.  And we hadn’t even started rolling.

“Now pull apart your cunt lips and push some jiz out. 

“So before we left, I called my cousin.  She told me that you are the son of her Baptist preacher and it would be a great favor to her to take you out and show you real America.  Now my cousin doesn’t know that I’m a total fag fucker.  So instead, I called two of my fellow drivers, Barry and Jimmy.  You just met them; Barry was the first and Jimmy was the third guy to spit roast you.  We drive for the same company on the same route on the same day.  As you are Barry’s type, he wanted you ASAP.  That’s why we are here at this rest area.  That and this spot has this picnic table out back away from the eyes of the casual traveler.

“Push some more out.  I want a good glob on my cock head.  Damn, this cunt has been used before.  And I’m not even talking about just today.  It’s obvious that you also have experience in servicing and serving men.  Your second fucker was this trucker that followed you and Barry back here.  And he was slapping your face when Barry was plowing your cunt.  And it wasn’t a love tap; it was a man properly using and abusing a faggot.  He even used a fistful of you your hair as a handle.  You seemed to take that roughness like it was nothing.

“So, I can reach over and pull you off the picnic table and push you on your knees….  Like that.  Faggot, this is natural for you, isn’t it?...  Where did you learn that you need to be treated like shit?... 

“…You met older men from those kink sites?...  …So I have a faggot to use as my personal cunt for the next few weeks?

“That face slap is for not addressing me with respect.  That’s ‘Yes Master.’  You refer to all men as ‘Sir.’  You got that faggot?...  I’m really going to like smacking you around. 

“See that glob of driver cum on my dick head?  Using only the tip of your tongue, scoop it in your mouth, but don’t swallow it.

“Now say, ‘I am a faggot whore whose only existence is to be abused by real men.  I live for cock and cum….’  …Say it again…. …Again…

“You got me leaking.  Turn your head to face the garbage can.  I want to wipe my pre-cum on your cheek.  Swallow that spunk and keep saying it.

“That’s good.  Mmmm.  Now say that you want to be abused without mercy….  And say that you don’t want to have a safe word….  So you do not want to have any say of what I plan on doing to you, and that your pleas to stop must be ignored….  Don’t look back at me; say it to the garbage can, cause that’s what you are, garbage.

“…Good that’s done.  Now suck on my dick.

“Listen up faggot.  I was talking with that second driver—the one that roughed you up while Barry was plowing your cunt.  He left back here and made a bee line to his cab.  When he came out, he looked pissed.  He had a belt already doubled up, and he was heading back here to beat the shit out of you. 

“I stopped him.  He was pissed at you.  He recognized you.  He showed me his phone.  It had a news article with a pic of you standing next to your father as your preacher father was going into the state’s senate to fights against gays.  Now I tend to stay out of politics, but even I know of your dad’s name. 

“I told him that you were being fucked by Jimmy and that random fourth guy that came out of nowhere.  He wondered how I knew the details of what was going on as this area isn’t seen from the parking lot….

“I told him to look at my phone.  Faggot, pull off my cock and look up.  Damn, you are one hungry cunt.  You don’t care about anything I have to say.  That would explain why you don’t seem interested in how I knew about everything and every guy you were doing back here.

“If you look at my phone you will see a faggot kneeling in front of a man, both next to a picnic table.  That faggot is you….  Yes, I have been watching you through my phone.  The camera is located inside the opening to the garbage can there.

“Now it’s hitting you.  Yeah, I told Barry to come up here and set it up.  He has a lot of cameras in his truck.  He streams his fuck sessions in his cab and makes a shit load of money on-line.  By default, he has a copy of the video and so do I.  So going after my phone won’t do you no good.  So get back on your knees.

“It’s interesting, I did this to blackmail you into being my total bitch the seventeen days you are with me and to get you to stop with the religious shit.  Barry was definitely game, as likes young fags like you.  Jimmy just likes to fuck.  This here was going to be a simple picnic table fuck.

“That all changed when Chuck—that would be the second driver—showed me his phone….

“…Don’t fucking say another word.  I will smack you again.  You are in a shitty spot here.  First, you are naked as a rest stop, loaded up by four men, soon to be five with mine.  Don’t bother looking for your clothes.  Barry picked up your shit and put it in his cab; you were oblivious being spit roasted. 

“When you leave this area, you will walk back to a row of semis buck naked.  After my fat hog fucks you, your gape will be more pronounced, so you will have jiz running down your legs like some goddamned whore.  Next, you were filmed doing and saying nasty things, things your Papa wouldn’t approve.  So doing something stupid like running away is not going to go well for you, as that video can be edited to hide us but showcase your talents.  Videos are easy to disseminate.  You are kinda stuck in this situation, subject to whatever sexual whims that should come to mind.

“You are going to be filmed doing nasty shit going forward, but doing one video will have the same as ten.  You understand your predicament?...  Good.  Good.

“Now get up and lean over the picnic table.  I need to drop my seed.

“…Fuck, you are sloppy back here.  The guys stretched you out enough, so you aren’t strangling my dick.  And cum lube is the best….  Oh yeah, clamp down like that.  We need to be very quick.  There’s a timetable that needs to be met.  We all are meeting up at a particular spot up ahead for our 10-hour DOT rest. 

“The things that are planned for you...,  I’m getting close just thinking about it.  You are going to be used by so many men these next two weeks.

“Damn your hair was made to be used as a handle.  Arch your back.  Try almost to stand. 

“Fuck that feels good.  You ready for my load?  Of course you are.  You are cum dump faggot who lives to take load after load.  You don’t give a shit who is fucking you, just as long as they breed you.  You fucking slut.  You whore.

“I’m gonna cum.  I’m going to flood your guts with more cum.  When I am done, you are to clean me off like a good faggot.

“Get ready.  Here it cums!  Here it cums!  Here it fucking cums!  Ahhhh Ahhhhh Ahh!... Fuck!  Goddamn, your cunt is just what I needed.

“…Atta boy.  Tastes nasty hunh?  That’s the flavor of four men’s loads.  Yeah you are a fucking pig.  I knew it. 

“…Let’s head on out.  Hold on.  Let me get that camera from the garbage can.  …OK, let’s go.

“No. No.  You are walking in front of me.  I want whoever is in the parking lot to see a naked cum whore faggot.  Walk slowly.  Better yet.  I got a fistful of your hair.  I’ll control the pacing.

“Damn.  Everyone’s gone except for me and Chuck.  Barry split and he has your clothes… and probably your phone too.  Don’t worry, you’ll get it back tonight.

“Let’s go over to Chuck’s cab. 

“Hey Chuck!...  I got the faggot here for ya!  Naked and loaded up!  Are they going to be there?...  Fucking awesome!

“OK faggot get on up.  You are riding with Chuck for the rest of today….  Awww shut the fuck up.  I don’t care what you have to say.  Chuck has arranged to have a gay biker gang join us tonight.  His condition for arranging this was he gets you tied up in his cab for the day.  Seems like a fair exchange….

“…I said for you to shut up.  Keep insisting you have something important to say, and I’ll do a lot more than slam your faggot face against his cab. 

“Listen here shithead.  I don’t give a shit about you, or what happens to you.  I don’t give a fuck about my right-wing nutjob cousin.  And I don’t have any sympathy for your father and his evil fucked up ministry.

“I control what happens to you.  And you are going in the cab of a fellow fag fucking driver, a man I just met, a man that has bondage equipment installed inside, a man that knows a biker gang.  And I’m fine with all of it.

“Chuck, get down here.  The faggot needs convincing getting up into your cab.  Bring your belt.  I can stick around to help you turn this sissy girl black and blue….

“Change your mind?  Good.  Get up there.

“He’s all yours Chuck.

“I hope to catch you later faggot…  “…Oh faggot!  I forgot to say, ‘Praise Jesus!’”

This story continues in Story #396.

[heesdreamer]

skin on skin

PAIRING ➩ jake x reader

GENRE ➩ religious corruption au, church boy jake au, evil reader

WARNINGS ➩ heavy criticism of religion in an extreme exaggerated manner, manipulation, multiple smut scenes, the mc is straight up mean and evil and says mean things all the time lol. parental and spousal abuse… think that’s it maybe lol it’s an intense read

WC ➩ 20.4k (😵‍💫)

AUTHORS NOTE ➩ the spacing is a bit weird because apparently this exceeded the length amount in tumblr… i don’t care about your think pieces on religion or the way it’s discussed in this so please don’t try to educate me on the actual ways of christianity! it’s a story! that being said this is in no way making a mockery of jake and his religion. this is my favorite story ive ever done and i had a good time writing it which is rare lately so i really hope you enjoy it and if you make it to the end let me know what you think! hope you like it as much as i do

It wasn’t like you came out of the womb with horns and a little forked tail.

The nurses didn’t scream in terror and your mother didn’t faint at the sight of you, it wasn’t some grand discovery that anybody could see or anybody could plan for.

You made it through your formative years relatively normal, or at least as normal as you could be considering who your father was. But it wasn’t until middle school when you realized how different kids would treat you because of this.

Those were your favorite years you could remember. The half decade before anybody cared, or knew enough to care, what it meant for you to be who you were. Then you were old enough to have consciousness and design your own set of morals, something all the parents in your town dreaded.

Your town was barely that, more so a few neighborhoods sprawled across barren lands with more fields and trees than concrete and signs of the modern world that had seemingly developed everywhere, except for where you’d been born.

Sometimes you wondered if you’d been cursed to stay here forever. It seemed like everybody who was born here, died here, but unlike you they all seemed pretty content with this fact. Proud even, the elders stating the amount of years and generations they’d own their rusty old homes like it didn’t create a nasty pit in your stomach.

Time was frozen and the world had moved on, leaving all 2,000 of you behind to die and birth and die again until eventually the last generation killed themselves off in an act of sympathy, a mercy slaughter.

It was probably immoral to be thinking about your entire town dying whilst in church. But you didn’t think much about the implication of having sinful thoughts anywhere, regardless of how many crosses were currently burning stares into your back.

More than 70% of your life was spent inside these four walls, on this exact weathered seat on this same old pew.

See, when turned 12 years old and the kids at school made you aware of the fact your dad was the lead preacher at the only church in town, you figured this made you some sort of royalty.

Not once did you feel the overwhelming holy presence of god that everybody else seemed to be experiencing everyday after school and work when you all settled in together to listen to your fathers teachings.

You’d sit with a scowl on your face, turning around in the front row pew reserved for the preachers family and you’d observe the people around you. You knew everybody in your town, some more than others, but you always thought people looked different when they prayed.

The nice man who worked at the grocery store looked far more guilty and weathered with his eyes closed and the angry woman two blocks away who yelled at the kids riding their bikes too close to her sprinklers, looked peaceful like she was talking to an old friend.

Your mother would hiss under her breath in an attempt to catch your attention, sending soft pinches to your thighs until you’d begrudgingly turn back in your seat and plop down in your puffy dress, tuning out the sound of your fathers loud voice.

Looking back on it now, your mother seemed to notice the dark parts of you brewing before you even did. The two of you never saw eye to eye and despite the fact you were her only child, much to her dismay considering they tried for years after your birth to have another but to no avail, she never treated you with any sort of motherly warmth or kindness.

She’d glare at you from across the dinner table while her and your father conjoined hands and thanked the lord for the meal that your mother had cooked. You’d started to sit on your hands at dinner when you were 7 years old and what once was a cute misbehaving habit quickly became the warning sign of your future endeavors.

Still, part of being the preachers family was playing an act. So you’d all get up early in the mornings and wordlessly move around the house like the backstage of a play, dressing the part and giving bright smiles to each family that walked through the doorway on Sunday morning.

Your mother would stand behind you with a long stretched out smile, hands on your thin shoulders as she dug her nails down every time she felt you tense up at a greeting.

Then you were 16 and for the first time in your life, you heard her voice the thing you’d always assumed she believed. You stood in the hallway in your nightgown, standing stiff as a board to avoid the creaking wood of your old house, peering around a dimly lit corner to hear your parents conversation more clearly.

“She hasn’t done anything wrong Mary.” Your fathers rough low voice was flowing in your direction, sounding tired and agitated. You could vaguely hear the sounds of his rough hands rubbing over his unshaven scruff in frustration.

“She will.” Your mother sounded panicked and alert, desperate for him to understand her case. “I can’t explain it but she has this darkness in her, I’ve felt it ever since I was pregnant.”

Your breath caught in your throat as they spoke, understanding now they were referring to you. You were only slightly surprised, no grand feelings of fear or betrayal arising.

That nights conversation had ended with your mother in a fit of tears and your father uttering words of reassurance in an attempt to calm her down as you used the sounds of her loud sobs to sneak back to your room, getting under the covers and blowing out the candles by the time your father was opening your door to insure you were in bed.

He’d stood there for a few minutes, the door cracked with his hand on the knob. Do this day you wondered what he was waiting for. Maybe he was expecting you to talk in your sleep or he was trying to get some sense of the evil your mother was spewing about, but eventually you heard his tired sigh and the door shutting.

It’d been three years now since that conversation and you still hadn’t fully understood the evil your mother was referring to. You didn’t believe in god, that much had been clear to you from a very early age but you didn’t believe in the devil either.

You didn’t feel things maybe you should be feeling, sadness when an elder passed away unexpectedly or happiness when a new baby was born into the community. You didn’t feel pain when your mother shot you looks of disgust and you only felt slight jolts of satisfaction when she leapt in fear every time you entered a quiet room.

The seed of evil that was apparently inside of you never bloomed, no matter how much you waited for its arrival.

Until the day the Sim’s arrived to town.

It was extremely rare for somebody to move out of your hometown, and you’d been instructed to never speak about the families that left, to let yourself forget their names and faces. Forget any interaction you’d had with them now that they were gone.

But you’d never once contemplated the fact that it was possible to move here willingly. It hadn’t occurred to you that somebody would choose this place to live and that they’d be allowed to stay peacefully, and especially not given a grand welcome.

So you felt yourself uncharacteristically thrown off guard as you found yourself at church on a Saturday, typically your only day you weren’t required to be here. You’d spend these days down by the creek or riding around the abandoned section of town on your bike, trying to find something interesting to see.

As you stood near the stage, where your fathers podium was perfectly centered and polished, greeting the usual faces with a forced smile, your eyes landed on the most interesting sight you’d ever seen.

The Sim’s were a direct mirror of your family as they stood in front of you. Only three of them, a tall man giving your father a sturdy handshake and laughing like old friends and a small meek woman who was holding your mothers hand in both of hers, a thankful smile on her face.

Placed directly in front of you was a boy, seemingly your age, shifting back and forth on his feet as he waited for you to initiate any form of greeting.

There was people your age in town, your graduating class held 25 kids and over half of them were girls, daughters that were considered blessings for their special ability to continue on your towns population. You’d met boys, few handsome but handsome none the less but nobody who looked like the one standing in front of you.

He was taller than you, peering down at you from behind thin framed glasses and about double your width. You imagined you were hidden behind his shoulders to the view of the people stood in line behind him, waiting to greet your family.

His skin was tanned, something that you imagined wouldn’t last long considering you weren’t sure your town was blessed by the sun at all, almost constantly grey and dreary looking even in the peak of summer.

You took your time observing the boy, not feeling any sense of urgency at the knowledge people were watching and waiting, not even at the fact your mother was stood directly next to you and you could feel her stare on the side of your face. Her loss of attention seemed to make the boys mother nervous and she placed her hands on his shoulders.

“And this is our son, Jake.” She was chirping out and you almost wanted to laugh at how desperate she seemed to impress your family. The boy, Jake, was looking at you still for a second before his eyes shot to your mother and he gave her a nervous smile. “He’s shy at first but he’s a very good boy.”

His eyes flicked back over to yours as she spoke and your mouth quirked up in a small smile, finally sticking out your hand in offering to him.

You felt a strange feeling build up inside you, splattering against your ribs and painting your insides with something deep and powerful. As you held his hand in yours, your eyes caught onto your mothers and you could see the fear crossing over her expression at her own realization.

“Hi Jake.”

And the seed bloomed.

——

It wasn’t more than 30 seconds after your father finished his last word, the remains of it still echoing throughout the room underneath the chorus of ‘amen’s, that your mother was gripping your arm and dragging you back into his office space.

She closed the door swiftly and you yanked your arm out of her grip with a scowl, staring at her for an explanation about her sudden behavior despite having a slight inkling of what she was about to say to you.

“You can’t.” She spoke vaguely, an angry desperation in her voice like you were a feral dog with a hungry look in its eye.

“What are you talking about?” You lowered your agitation, doing your best impression of a confused and fearful daughter. She scoffed at your expression and held a hand to her mouth like she was genuinely amazed at your audacity.

“You leave that boy alone Y/N, or so help me God.” She was shaking her head at you and you felt a surge of annoyance at her tone, her voice shaky and weak.

You thought she was slightly pathetic. She’d spent her entire life treating you like the devil, implying your evil and avoiding you at all cost but the second you finally start to understand her concern and she’s immediately turned to pleading and bargaining. There was no fun in this for you.

Soft knocks against the door caught her attention and she looked over your shoulder, trying to ignore the fact you were still staring at her and not bothering to turn and face whoever had entered.

“Go home and get dinner started.” Your fathers voice was entering the room now in a hushed whisper, like somebody was still outside behind him. “We are going to have a welcome meal with the new residents.”

Your mothers eyes shot back in your direction at his words, like she was begging you to remember her previous warning and you offered her a small smirk before turning to face your father with a toothy grin, expression changing now.

“Of course father, whatever you need.”

——

You’d ignored your mothers glare the entire time you worked on dinner together, setting the table casually and changing into a less formal dress that gained a thumbs up of approval from your father.

When the Sim’s arrived, you greeted them similarly to how you did at church except your mother made sure to shake Jake’s hand for a prolonged amount of time so you couldn’t, only breaking apart when your father cleared his throat and ushered you all towards the polished dining room.

He took his seat at the head of the table and you briefly wondered what type of man Jake’s father was. He was larger than your dad, much larger and you noticed a hint of irritation in his face when he took a seat on the side. You imagined he sat similarly to your father at his own house and didn’t find great pleasure in the new arrangement.

There was three seats on each side and your mother had rushed to take a middle seat next to you, attempting to block anybody else from being seated beside you.

However your father cleared his throat subtly and sent the both of you a small glare, confused at the fact she hadn’t adorned her usual seat next to him. You were sure he realized it would be strange for her to sit a seat away from him, making them look distant or troubled.

She sent you a small angry look but shifted over a space so she was now sat in her usual place, leaning an empty chair between the two of you.

An empty chair that was soon taken by Jake, his mother sending him an encouraging smile and giving him a slight nudge in your direction. You remembered what she said about him being shy, not hiding the fact she was trying to create a friendship between the two of you.

His mothers face angered you more than your own. She was small and weak looking, constantly smiling with wide eyes like she was waiting to drop into a conversation at any time to force a connection, yet she rarely did throughout dinner. For the most part she stayed silent, nodding along obediently every time her husband spoke.

So you kept your attention on the boy for the most part, figuring the adults were too busy kissing eachothers ass’s to care about what the two silent teenagers were doing at the end of the table.

You knew he could feel the way you were watching him, sending you small glances out of the side of his eye and shifting uncomfortably in his seat every time he realized you were still looking.

He really was handsome you were deciding. You’d never really paid attention to boys before, understanding the difference between being attractive and not but it didn’t have any affect on you. You liked the slope of his nose and the way his throat bobbed with every nervous gulp he took.

Your father was seemingly noticing your mutual disinterest in the conversation, you watching Jake and him watching his empty plate. “Y/N honey, why don’t you take Jake to your room and show him some of your notes on our latest teachings.”

Both of your heads turned towards him as he said this, your eyes lighting up with excitement and Jake’s widening slightly.

“Oh..” His mother was starting and you resisted the urge to glare in her direction. “Jake isn’t… he’s never..”

Jake’s father sent her a sharp look and she snapped her mouth shut immediately, looking away from him. Your excitement only doubled as you realized she wasn’t comfortable leaving her son alone with a girl, leading you to believe he never had been before.

“Of course father.” You smiled at him softly, standing and flattening out your dress in a prudish manner. Jake glanced in your direction as you stood, clumsily rising out of his own chair as you headed up the stairs and down the hall to your room.

He followed wordlessly behind, still not speaking even when you stood in the doorway and let him awkwardly squeeze past you so he was stood stiffly in the center of your room. You closed the door behind you and he froze, eyes widening again.

“What are you doing?” His voice was high with worry and you realized it was your first time hearing him speak.

“What are you talking about?” You played dumb as you observed him, walking backwards until your legs hit your bed and you could sit carefully. He stayed standing as he watched you with confusion and worry.

“Mother says not to close doors.” He was shaking his head and it looked like he wanted to go and open it himself. He didn’t move however and you leaned back to rest on your hand, cocking your head in his direction.

“Do you always do what mommy says?” You questioned.

His eyebrows furrowed slightly at your condescending tone. You’d seemed nice enough at church and dinner, not speaking much but polite to your parents whenever you did. He was suddenly worried he had angered you.

“I guess she did say you were a good boy.” You quoted what his mother had said when she introduced him, voice carrying a faint mocking tone as you spoke.

He didn’t say anything after you said that, just standing there looking at you like you were some form of animal he’d never seen before. And maybe he hadn’t you were beginning to think, his speech was structured and tight like he was reciting lines and you were curious if he’d ever had a conversation with somebody his own age.

Your hand reached over to pat the bed next to you, raising an eyebrow at him and urging him to sit.

He watched you with that same look for a few seconds before looking back at the door like he was contemplating how fast he’d have to bolt out of it before you could sink your claws into him. He seemed to decide it wasn’t worth it, crossing the room and sitting down as far away from you as he could possibly get.

“Where’d you come from?” You didn’t plan to say that but the curiosity was driving you crazy, not quite understanding how he could be so sheltered.

“A village not far from here.” He was eventually answering with a soft shrug. He was sat perfectly straight on your bed, posture making him look even taller than he already was considering you were still leaned back on your palm.

You should’ve figured he was from a village, suddenly understanding why his mother was practically a house wife from the 1800’s and his dad looked relatively similar to a lumberjack.

“No girls at your village?” You were watching the side of his face as you questioned him, growing slightly agitated that he wasn’t looking at you. “Jake.”

He turned his face towards you when you addressed him, eyes widening like he was worried you were going to scold him from the sound of your stern call.

“I asked you a question.” When he didn’t immediately answer you assumed he hadn’t heard you, repeating yourself. “Was there no girls where you’re from?”

He was shaking his head swiftly, looking at his hands and then back towards you. “None like..”

“None like me?” You interrupted him as he started to trail off and your lips quirked into a smile. “So no pretty girls then.”

He frowned as you hummed and nodded your head like you’d made sense of what he was trying to say. He didn’t look like even he understood what the things you were saying meant and you almost pitied him as you slowly unlocked the full extent of his naivety.

“You’ve probably never even held hands with a girl right?” You kept your tone sweet despite your intentions.

He looked like he only slightly relaxed at your change of tone, glancing at you as he shook his head as a way to answer your question. He didn’t understand why you wanted to know this.

You were sitting back up straight, off your hands, and leaning sideways to get closer to him. He watched you with panicked eyes as you reached down near his lap and took his hand in yours, similarly to how you shook it at the church but the tension in the room was a direct opposite.

He made a strange noise when you touched him, a semi squeak at the suddenness of your contact and you smiled at him, scooting closer so you weren’t awkwardly stretching your arm in his direction.

“How does it feel?” You murmured, fighting the urge to lean against him and whisper in his ear. You didn’t want to scare him off just yet.

“I don’t think I should be in here.” He was shaking his head as he spoke and staring down at your conjoined hands or maybe the floor past them. They were resting in his lap, the back of your hand on his right thigh.

You frowned softly although he wasn’t looking at you, trying to keep up with your act. He seemed to be more pliant earlier when he thought he had upset you. “Jake.”

He glanced at you as you said his name, just like he had before, and his gaze looked guilty when he noticed the frown on your face. You squeezed his hand to try to bring his attention back to the fact you were touching him but he shook his head again.

“I really need to go Y/N.” He was still trying to sound polite despite his obvious discomfort and you almost smiled at the innocence of that.

“You don’t want me to touch you?” You let a small whine sink into your tone, really trying to drive home the idea that he was upsetting you and you felt him squeeze your hand absentmindedly.

He didn’t reply after you said that and the room fell into a strange silence. Then he was sending a heavy glance in your direction and your mouth parted in realization, understanding his inner monologue by the thick amount of guilt in his expression.

“You do want me to touch you.” You let your smile show now, not finding any reason to hide it now that he clearly took your bait. He squeezed his eyes shut as you said this and shook his head again, his hair messy now and falling into his face.

“What’s wrong Jake?” You were almost cooing at him, your hand sliding out of his and up his wrist, in result the back of your hand going further up his thigh. You kneaded at his wrist bone and he grunted at the almost painful sensation. “It’s just skin.”

He looked at you with a frustrated expression, holding eye contact for a few seconds much to your surprise. You were almost worried he was going to cry. You didn’t mind it personally, if anything you were thinking about how pretty he’d look with watery eyes and a red nose, but you imagined it would cause some level of concern with the parents.

So you released your grip on his wrist, taking your hand back and placing it on your own lap. You were still sitting far too close to him but he visibly relaxed at the lack of touch, however slightly confused why you had backed off.

Almost like the world had been paused for the entirety of your conversation and now played again, a soft knock on your door caused you to leap away from him and grab the bible your father insisted was kept on your nightstand at all times.

You were relieved to see his face when the door opened, knowing your mother would have most likely immediately sniff out what you’d been doing. Or at least attempting to do.

Your father looked between the two of you and the large space, nodding in approval when you flashed him a smile and opened to a random page in the book. He didn’t seem to notice how tense Jake was or the fact your door had been closed in the first place.

“Your parents are leaving Jake. You can stay a bit longer if you two are having fun.” Your father was saying in a welcoming voice but Jake was hopping off your bed before he even had a chance to finish.

“No, sir. Thank you but I really should get home and finish unpacking.” He was stumbling over his words and awkwardly shifting in place, waiting for your dad to move out of the doorway so he could make his escape.

Your dad shot you a confused look over Jake’s shoulder and you gave him a small shrug, fighting the urge to smile.

——

Guilt was eating Jake alive the entire ride home. He wasn’t quite sure what he had necessarily done wrong, what level of sin he had just committed, but his mother kept shooting him disappointed looks in the mirror.

“Will you stop looking at the boy like that.” His fathers gruff voice was mumbling from the drivers seat and his mom snapped her eyes back to the front window obediently. “It’ll be good for him to make a friend.”

“What type of girl leads a boy to her bedroom?” He was surprised his mother had spoken again, especially in the harsh tone she was using. She must’ve been angry enough at you and your behavior to forget the fear she held for Jake’s father.

He felt a bit strange as she said that. You were definitely weird and had made Jake feel something he’d never experienced, and he positively wanted to leave your room as quick as possible but he didn’t think you deserved such a mean comment.

He continued to feel strange for the rest of the night.

Jake laid in bed, hours past his usual bed time, and replayed your interaction in his head. Every time he got to the part where you grabbed his wrist in your tight hold, he squeezed his eyes shut and asked god to forgive him.

He could feel his stomach light up when he thought about your hand on his pants and he wanted to dig his nails into the skin as a self punishment for the thoughts brewing in his head, thoughts he had never had before and didn’t understand.

Rolling over in his bed, stomach to the mattress, he stuffed his face into his pillow and cried softly until he eventually fell asleep.

——

You felt giddy in the church pew the next morning after seeing Jake walk in with his parents. You immediately knew your plan had worked judging by his puffy face and swollen eyes. He’d clearly gotten no sleep and you could take a strong guess at the reason why.

A sick part of you was ecstatic at the fact you had something to do, something that actually managed to catch your interest.

If all it took to keep Jake up all night was you touching his hand, than you were preparing for more fun than you originally thought.

The morning had gone routinely as you remained in your seat for the entire sermon, not spinning around to try to catch a look at the boy despite the urge constantly in the back of your mind. You didn’t focus for a second but you did a solid job pretending until you heard a hushed voice behind you excusing themself.

You snuck a glance back to see Jake passing through his pew with muttered apologies and thanks to the people he was passing, smiling softly at them.

You watched him exit the pew and make his way down the main aisle, no doubt heading towards the bathroom hall since it was the only other part of the building outside of your fathers head office. You let him disappear from your sight and counted to 30 before abruptly standing and following his path before your mother could grab your hand in denial.

By the time you made it to the hall, Jake was exiting the bathroom with damp hands and a few wet strands of hair like he had splashed his face in an attempt to wake up.

His eyes widened when he saw you approaching and he glanced behind him like he was considering disappearing back into the bathroom so you couldn’t say anything to him. You smiled at this but didn’t move closer to him, leaning against the wall.

“What are you doing?” He watched you with careful eyes, not quite sure what you wanted.

You shrugged and furrowed your eyebrows. “What are you doing? You look tired, did you not get any sleep?”

He didn’t say anything as he looked at you, eyes heavy and guilty again like he was afraid you could read his mind. Unlucky for him, you didn’t have to read his mind to know what was happening in it.

“Were you thinking about me?” You pushed forward on his suspicions when he didn’t respond to you, tilting your head as you looked at him.

He didn’t respond again, letting out a small tired exhale before leaning against the wall opposite of you. The hallway was tensioned despite not being close enough to touch even if you stretched your arm out.

“I was thinking about you.” You suddenly confessed in an attempt to catch his interest or potentially get him to lower his walls enough for a solid conversation. It seemed to work considering his head was snapping up and he was looking at you with wide questioning eyes. “Is thinking a sin?”

He watched you for a few seconds, slightly embarrassed that you had somehow realized what his inner dilemma lead back to.

“Yes.” He answered matter of factly and you let out a small laugh.

You observed the way his lips awkwardly quirked up, like he was pleased he made you laugh despite being dead serious in his answer. His smile pulled at his cheeks for a second and you liked the way he nervously wiped his sweaty hands on his pants.

“What… what were you thinking about?” He squeezed the words out like they were painful after a silence fell between the two of you. You felt a bud of satisfaction at the fact he’d been curious enough to ask.

“Touching you.” You shrugged like it was a casual thing to say, watching his shoulders tense and his mouth part slightly in shock and disapproval.

“My hand?” You were a bit surprised that he asked a follow up question, voice dropping into a scared whisper like he was worried somebody was eavesdropping, maybe he was worried god could hear him.

You were watching him for a few uncomfortable beats, liking the way his cheeks turned red and he kept looking away from your gaze anxiously. Then you were shaking your head to answer his question, taking a step closer to his side of the hall.

His breath hitched as you kept taking small strides in his direction, taking your time with a loose smile on your face like you were out for a casual walk. You stopped next to him, turning and pressing your back against the wall he was leaned on so your shoulders were pressing together.

You wondered if he was planning to hold his breath the entire time you were touching him this time around, his face reddening even though your skin was separated by multiple pieces of thick fabric.

“Would you let me touch you again?” You leaned over slightly so you were closer to his ear, your chin hovering over his shoulder.

“You can’t.” He was immediately denying your request, stiff and agitated sounding. His voice was tight as he spoke like he was having to force the words out. “Please don’t do this.”

“Because you’re a good boy right?” You were even closer now, your lips touching the shell of his ear and he was shuddering against you, a frustrated whine in his throat.

He sent a sharp glare in your direction, at least as sharp as his features could get. You thought he looked cute when he was mad at you, eyes brows furrowed and his glasses sliding to the tip of his nose. Despite the way he was looking at you, he made no attempt to push you away or step apart himself.

“I want you to come to my house after church.” You whispered to him and he didn’t say anything, for once not shaking his head and just looking at you as you spoke your cruel demands. “I’ll tell my dad to talk to your parents about helping you catch up on his teachings.”

He looked amazed at your audacity, to not only lie to your parents but to lie about the lord and the Bible made his stomach turn in disgust.

Still, he almost couldn’t help but to lean his shoulder closer to yours and watch you with wide eyes and a parted mouth. He felt almost transfixed by you and your newness, the unique energy you gave off that made his head spin. He nodded his head slowly and watched you smile.

——

You’d waited for your mother to leave the house, a very rare occurrence for her outside of her weekly bingo nights at the recreational center in town, before you poked your head into your fathers office to request he calls the Sim’s.

You felt strangely jittery as you waited for them to send Jake over. Surprisingly, the Sim’s hadn’t moved into a house that far from you and you imagined he could probably ride a bike to your house in less than twenty minutes if the weather ever allowed it, rainy days an almost constant feature around this time of year.

It was only around half an hour before you heard knocks on the front door, followed by the low tone of your fathers voice and eventually the creaking of the steps as somebody made their way up to your bedroom.

Jake seemed thrown off when he saw you, dressed in far more casual clothes than he’d seen you in so far. He also looked momentarily relieved at the fact your door was wide open and you didn’t make any move to shut it as he crossed into the threshold of your room.

“Hi.” He politely addressed you with a slight bow and wave, avoiding looking at you fully where you sat on the bed. You gave him an incredulous look and sighed before patting the spot next to you.

He looked like he was dreading this but expecting it, only taking a few seconds of hesitation before he was shuffling over and sitting slowly down on your soft bed. You immediately scooted closer to him and grabbed his hand in yours.

His reaction wasn’t as intense as last time although he did immediately stiffen and his eyes snapped wide open, but he didn’t let out a small shriek at the feeling of your touch like he did yesterday.

“Are you going to let me touch you today?” You kept your voice low and he was suddenly very aware of the fact your door was completely open and your father was just a few feet away downstairs.

He slowly looked over at you, peering up from behind his long eyelashes and you wanted to grab his face with your nails. He looked like a puppy who had just done something naughty, big eyes unmoving from nerves as they darted around your face so he could avoid holding your strong gaze.

“This isn’t right.” He whispered back, eyes pleading as they finally locked onto yours. You almost felt sorry for him as he spoke, obviously so desperate to set you back on the right path in life. “Mother said I shouldn’t lay a hand on anybody, not even myself.”

You almost smiled as he said this, pleased at the new information he was unknowingly providing you with.

“It’s just skin.” You were reminding him again, slowly leaning against him so your chest was pressed against the side of his arm. His breath hitched at this and he glanced down at your upper body for a second. “You’ve never touched yourself?”

He shook his head immediately, face annoyed like he was offended you’d even suggest he would do such a thing. You liked that even though he was uncomfortable and denying his thoughts towards you, he still wasn’t seemingly capable of pushing you away. He’d still shown up to your house.

“I touch myself.” You were leaning forward more so you could talk into his ear again. A soft whimper left his throat when your lips grazed his skin again but he didn’t say anything, like he was waiting for you to continue. “On this bed, I touch myself every night.”

It was a slight exaggeration. You hadn’t really felt a strong need to touch yourself ever, never having a subject of attraction that left you longing enough that you’d roll around in bed late at night thinking about it, squeezing your thighs together in frustration.

But you were transfixed by the way he immediately tensed again, glancing back behind you towards where your pillows were and then immediately shooting forward and falling to the cross hanging on the wall in front of you both.

“It’s just skin.” You repeated to him again and he sucked in a shaky breath as you said it, bringing his guilty pained eyes back to you. You almost cooed at him, clicking your tongue and holding his chin softly. He leaned into the touch like he wasn’t meaning to and you wondered how touch starved he must be.

Your hand that wasn’t holding his face fell down to his lap, laying flat and still on his thigh as you let him process what you were doing.

He stiffened again and let out a low troubled groan, shaking his head again at himself. You wondered what he was thinking right now, if he was convinced he was heading straight for hell because of his thoughts alone so maybe it didn’t matter if he let you touch him. Or maybe he was seconds away from bolting downstairs and telling your father about what you’d been attempting to do.

“This isn’t right.” He was whispering and still trying to shake his head the best he could with your grip on his face. His repetition was starting to bug you, suddenly feeling impatient as he still hadn’t taken the bait fully.

“But it feels so good.” You purred into his ear, turning his head back to look at the cross and scooting closer so you were pressed tightly against his side. The sensation of this mixed with your hand on his leg was overwhelming and he felt slightly suffocated. “I want to show you Jake, let me show you how good it feels.”

He didn’t say anything for a few seconds and you considered letting him go, wanting to have him completely might mean waiting some time so you didn’t scare him off.

Then he was surprising you and looking back in your direction, your hand falling to his collarbones instead so he could decide what to do with his head. He gave you a soft nod, looking like he immediately regretted it when you wasted no time, pushing your hand forward onto the center of his pants.

He immediately lurched forward with a loud groan at the feeling of your hand on him and you shushed him softly, using the hand on his face to bring him back up to a sitting position and pet his face lovingly.

“You have to be quiet Jake.” You whispered in his ear and nodded towards your open door. He looked at you with a desperate glance, like he was pleading for you to close it despite his upset at that yesterday. You shook your head softly. “Can you be a good boy Jake?”

You started to slowly knead your hand against him, wanting to smile at the fact he was already hard before you had touched him. Light teasing and your soft hand on his thigh already had him bothered.

He was making small noises and you kept his face turned in your direction with your hold back on his jaw. You were sitting up straighter than him so he was a bit below you, having to look up through his eyelashes as he surprisingly held eye contact with you.

“Doesn’t it feel good?” You murmured excitedly, eyes wild and eager. He didn’t reply verbally, another small whine slipping from his throat and you pressed down hard on his cock through his pants. “I asked a question.”

Now he was nodding desperately, hands reaching out to grip your wrist in an attempt to lessen the pressure you were applying to him. “Good- feels good.”

His voice was strained and raspy like it was crawling its way out of his throat and you smiled with sick satisfaction, leaning forward so you were closer to his face. Your nose pressed against his and you thought about kissing him for just a few seconds, eventually deciding against it.

Jake was writhing on the bed now, desperately moving into your hand with small groans and whines, his hips lifting off the blanket in an attempt to chase your touch every time you removed it. He didn’t even seem to realize he was doing it, a dazed expression on his face.

He seemed out of it until your hand was leaving his face and sliding down his sweater covered chest. He didn’t seem to realize you were doing it until your hand was pressing on his stomach slightly, fidgeting with the singular button on his jeans and tugging on the zipper impatiently.

“No, no.” He was whining, grabbing your wrist to stop you from snaking your hand down his pants, touching him without any layers between. “You can’t do that.”

“Why?” You asked incredulously, leaning forward so you were hovering over him slightly. He leaned back on his hand a bit to avoid bumping into your face and you were a few inches from laying on top of him. “I promise it’ll feel so good Jake.”

The usage of his name made him wince, realizing he liked it far too much when you said it. He’d never really considered his name before, completely indifferent to it until he heard the way it rolled off your snake like tongue.

“You aren’t supposed to do that.” He practically spat the words at you but his tone lacked any anger instead sounding fearful and pained. “You can’t touch me there, you just can’t.”

You felt slightly sorry for him as he hiccuped, his voice breaking around the words as you watched tears collect in his pretty eyelashes. His eyes kept darting to the cross on the wall with a guilty expression.

You took your hands off of his lap, listening to his sigh of longing at the loss of contact. You weren’t quite sure what to do in this situation despite seeing it coming, eventually opting for sitting up further on the bed and pulling him into your neck, wrapping your arms around his shaking body in a hug.

He leaned into it and hesitantly wrapped himself around you, tucking his face into your warm neck and letting out a few sobs, tugging you forward slightly by your lower back.

You let him cry for a while, hushing him softly every few minutes just in case, although you were in a less compromising position now, you still didn’t think your father would be thrilled to find you half in the lap of a sniffling boy who was still hard against you.

“Jake.” You were eventually murmuring into his hair once his hiccups subsided slightly, he nuzzled into your neck further at the sound of your soft tone. “What if I didn’t use my hands?”

He picked his head up at this and furrowed his eyebrows at you, his eyes puffy and red with wet streaks still going down his face.

“I don’t understand.” He looked more puppy like than normal as he said this in a soft breathy voice, voice hoarse from crying and his lip almost jutting out into a confused frown.

“Can I show you?” You kept your voice soft as you spoke to him and he immediately nodded his head. He clearly had found some sort of comfort in your embrace, a connection being made enough for him to fall into this state of vulnerability, willingly to accept what you were wanting to give him now.

You felt a sick rush of adrenaline at his lowered walls, the sudden dumb eagerness in his eyes as he seemed to seek out any sign of contact from you.

You imagined it was a flood of emotions, a confusion and tiring feeling to suddenly be presented with a situation that went against everything your life had been carefully crafted around. Not to mention how addicting it must feel to suddenly learn what was on the other side and how good it felt, having unbothered access to it as the two of you sat huddled on your bed.

Kissing his cheek softly, you slowly slid off the bed onto the floor, suddenly thankful you had a thick rug on your bed side. He watched you in confusion, looking like he wanted to grab you and help you up before you shot him a stern look.

Your hands were back on his jeans now that you were fully situated and he looked like he wanted to object for just a second before lifting his hips off the bed so you could pull them down to pool around his ankles.

You took just a second to admire him, his pretty tanned skin overwhelming you a bit in its sheer amount. His legs were surprisingly thick, muscular like an athlete and you briefly remembered you didn’t know much about him at all.

That didn’t bother you at all, if anything it made you want him more when you looked up at him to see his nervous eyes staring down at you in concern. He looked humiliated and you imagined it had something to do with the fact he was still extremely hard, even after crying for so long.

If he was more stable in his emotions, less flighty, you would’ve made fun of him. You would’ve called him names and made him cry all over again and then taken his innocence without a second thought.

Instead you carried on the kindness act, leaning forward and pressing a kiss against his length through his underwear.

He immediately hissed and shot forward, not realizing what you were planning to do and not understanding why you were doing this. He started to stammer out in confusion and you shushed him again, sending a sharp glare towards the open door in warning.

“What are you doing?” He sounded absolutely blown away now, even more than he did earlier and it settled in your mind that he clearly had absolute no sexual knowledge, including blowjobs. “That’s dirty, you can’t do that.”

“Why not?” You were mock frowning up at him. “Did mommy say so?”

He knew you were making fun of him but he still nodded in response, not liking the sudden return of your mean tone. He forgot all about it when you were leaning forward again, this time touching your lips to him longer and sucking softly through the fabric.

“Mommy’s not here.” You were breathing out when you pulled away from him again, much to his dismay considering he immediately lifted his hips back in your direction. “And doesn’t it feel nice?”

He was nodding his head dumbly in agreement, feeling dizzy from the foreign emotions. He still didn’t understand what you were doing but it felt too good to keep questioning, forgetting momentarily about sin and how much punishment was going to come his way after this.

You were sliding your hands up his thighs slowly, stopping at the waistband of his boxers and glancing up at him for any sign of refusal. You didn’t care much for his discomfort but you weren’t going to force him to do anything, despite how much fun you were having with him.

He didn’t make any move to stop you, not even seeming to notice or understand what you were planning to do until you pulled on the elastic swiftly.

Then he was shooting back up from where he’d been leaning back, shaking his head again and covering himself with his hands. You smiled at him from your place on the floor and he looked at you like you were crazy.

You were getting slightly frustrated despite your pleased expression, wanting him to quickly understand what you were planning on doing. You gripped his wrist tightly and pulled them away from his lap

“What are you doing?” He was whispering in a panicked tone, his hands hovering above your head like he was debating pulling you away from him. He let out a yelp when you leaned forward and took the head of his cock into your mouth, watching him with hooded eyes. “T-that’s dirty, stop it.”

You wanted to laugh at his wording choices, sounding like he was a worried mother scolding their child for playing in mud.

“It’s dirty?” You frowned at him when you pulled back for a moment, his wide eyes falling on your wet lips. They squeezed shut just for a moment when you were licking up his full length slowly, humming at the taste of him and his weight on your tongue. “I should probably stop then right?”

He let out a panicked cry and ran a hand over his face in frustration. He wanted you to stop or at least he knew he should want you to stop. His mother had been right and you were not a nice girl, not the type of girl he should be around and he felt his stomach turn at the knowledge he was committing a very large sin by finding pleasure in your lust.

But the pleasure was prominent and overwhelming him to the point he couldn’t think straight.

He understood what sex was and his father had taught him about boyish lust, the kind that wakes you up from your sleep needing to change into a new pair of pajamas but he’d been warned from an early age to simply ignore the occurring urge.

He could still hear his mothers shrieks and cries when she caught him with a pillow between his legs in high school, could feel the welts on the back of his hands from the ruler his father had punished him with. Jake sometimes wondered if other people experienced this urge, this call to sin, as much as he did or if he was rotten inside.

But for the first time in his entire life, Jake couldn’t find it in himself to think about the consequences to falling victim to it. Not when you were touching him in ways not even his dreams could think to imagine.

When he didn’t answer you’d taken him back in your mouth, slightly impressed by how thick he was. He bucked forward his hips instinctively, pushing himself deeper into your mouth and you pinched his thigh roughly in warning.

You heard him cry out in a sob, his hands gripping the blankets so hard they were turning white and shaking at an almost alarming rate.

“Please.” He was begging and you weren’t sure he even knew what for, his voice coming out desperate and needy. “Please i-it feels really weird.”

You hummed around his cock in understanding, your hand petting his thigh and pushing his shirt up on his stomach so you could feel more of him. He didn’t even seem to register you touching him, the sounds of his soft cries and pleads distracting you slightly.

You tapped his hip bone a few times and he seemed to somehow understand the message, pushing his cock deeper into your mouth at a slower pace this time. You let him do what he wanted despite the urge to take control of the situation, knowing there wasn’t any chance he was lasting more than 30 seconds anyways.

He was slightly surprising you already, truthfully you’d expected him to cum before you even got his boxers off his thighs.

You imagined his inner monologue was causing him some issue as you listened to him cry softly from pleasure, little overwhelmed gasps and hiccups as one of his hands grabbed onto the one you were running across his stomach and squeezed it tightly.

“You need to just let it go baby.” You were whispering to him as you pulled off for a second when his hips started to twitch awkwardly, overwhelmed and not understanding what the feeling building up deep in his gut was. “Don’t worry about making a mess.”

The second you took him back in your lips he was following your instructions with a loud moan, completely forgetting you were meant to keep quiet as he came inside your warm mouth.

You winced slightly at the unexpectedness of it, leaning backwards on your knees as you waited for his hips to stop jerking forward.

He was shaking his head at you, eyes teary and his face red as he squinted his eyes in confusion. “What w-was -“

“You came.” You said matter of factly, standing up with a groan from your uncomfortable kneeling position and sitting next to him on the bed again. He leaned sideways into you, much to your surprise, and you resisted the urge to push him off you.

“Was I supposed to?” He whispered in embarrassment and pushed his face into your neck again. You were slightly uncomfortable at his clinginess but you let him do it, knowing he must be feeling a lot.

“Yes Jake. Maybe not all over my face though.” You were trying to joke with him to lighten the atmosphere but you sighed as you heard him let out a little cry into your neck, clearly upset and humiliated.

He was mumbling against your skin, repeated mantras that you couldn’t quite understood through his sobs but had a good guess in what they contained. You imagined reality was coming back to him now and he was processing what he’d just done without the hazy cloud of need cursing his judgement.

“Jake, you need to stop crying.” You were sighing and bringing your hand up to his hair, petting it softly to try to calm him down.

“Did I do a bad thing?” He pulled off your neck to look you in the eyes, his wide and desperate like he was fishing for any bit of reassurance that what you’d just done was okay, that he hadn’t just committed a sin so unholy. You could tell by his expression he was asking just to hear it reaffirmed, for you to tell him again it was just skin.

“My poor baby.” You were cooing at him, lips jutted out in a pout as your hands came up to hold his face, cupping it softly and wiping his teary cheeks with your thumbs. “Of course you did a bad thing.”

He froze completely in your hold and you felt a laugh bubble into your throat, holding it down with all your might so you could get the full extent of his reaction. He sat up slightly, attempting to pull out of your hands before realizing you were holding his face too tight. He gave you a confused and hurt look.

“What?” He was stammering out and his face was curling back into another sob.

“How could you let me do that?” You were tsking at him as you spoke, eyebrows furrowed like he had genuinely offended you. He watched you as panic settled into his eyes at the sound of you kissing your teeth and shaking your head softly. “We were supposed to be studying.”

“B-but.” He was shaking his head and holding onto your wrist, eyes filling with tears. “But you said that..”

He trailed off and you watched him with a raised eyebrow, waiting for him to pass the blame off onto you. Of course he didn’t, his expression hardening although you knew he hadn’t quite realized your motive. He was too innocent to believe you’d deceive him, too stupid to understand every action you did was a carefully crafted lie.

“Maybe it’s time you go Jakey.” You were nodding as you spoke, petting his hair and pushing it back out of his eyes.

He didn’t say anything else, his expression dazed out as he came out of such a vulnerable compliant headspace with a jolt. You watched him in silence as he gathered himself enough to get dressed awkwardly and walk out of your room, loose and tilting like he had just woken up.

You waited for him to be completely out of sight, the sound of the front door closing, before falling back on your bed with a big smile.

——

You’d fallen asleep soon after that without much thought on the situation, feeling only a deep satisfaction at the progress you’d made with Jake and a slight tinge of excitement for the next time you got to see him.

By the time you’d woken up, your mother was already in your room and standing staring down at you. You barely reacted to her presence although you were slightly unnerved and curious just how long she’d been watching you sleep.

“Can I help you?” Your voice was groggy as you sat up and pushed your bedridden hair out of your face.

Any other mother might have found your tired movements cute, maybe they’d give you an endeared smile and reminisce on when you were a baby waking up from naps.

However you were born with a very specific type of mother, maybe one of her kind. She was watching you with a nasty scowl, a knowing look in her eye as she did a slow pan around your room. “Your father said the boy was here yesterday.”

You hummed in agreement, tilting your head softly to try and get a further reaction from her.

“His mother called and said he won’t be at church this morning.” She spat the words at you, accusatory and nasty. “He’s sick.”

You could tell by the way she said that she knew it was a lie, wether Jake was the one telling it or his mother. At first you were slightly shocked he’d lie about being sick but you figured he might just be feeling so, driven by the extreme emotions he’d been feeling.

“What a shame. He seemed more than fine yesterday.” You put in a pity filled voice, shaking your head as you let the innuendo sink in for her, watching the way her face curled with disgust.

“Almost ready?” You father was suddenly in your doorway, observing the scene with a raised eyebrow as he buttoned the cuff of his sleeve.

“Father, would it be okay if I stopped by the Sim’s before heading to service? I’d like to bring Jake some soup for his cold.” Your voice was dripping with sweetness and you vaguely saw your mothers jaw tick with irritation.

“I can do it.” She was rushing to say.

Your father shook his head immediately and held a hand up to silence the both of you from speaking again. He finished buttoning his sleeve and cleared his throat before speaking. “You agreed to meet with the Lee’s today Mary. I think it’d be a good idea for Y/N to go, since they’re friends.”

You smiled appreciatively at him and he gave you a small nod before leaving the room. You glanced at your mother to see her stony expression but surprisingly she didn’t say anything, simply shaking her head in disapproval and following behind him.

It was strange to not leave for church with them, to stand in the window with the curtain pulled back as you smiled and waved watching the car drive off.

You dropped the grin the second they turned the street corner and hurried out the door to get on your bike and head over to the Sim’s house.

You hadn’t been there before despite your father pointing it out on your way home yesterday but it looked pretty much the exact same as the other houses in the neighborhood. It was large and eerie, the rainy atmosphere not helping it.

The door was opening before you could even dismount your bike let alone knock and you saw Jake’s mom standing in the archway with a small frown.

“What are you doing here?” Her tone was harsh and for a second you wondered if he had told her about what happened, confessed his sins in a fit of guilt.

You were so thrown off that you didn’t immediately respond, suddenly aware of the fact you didn’t bring any sort of soup or medicine like you had originally planned, too eager to get out the door to remember your cover story.

Lucky for you, Jake’s father was coming into sight now and a small grunt from him sent the rude woman cowering away.

You observed this with a curious expression and tried not to frown. Maybe Jake wasn’t as innocent and pure as he seemed considering he apparently had some familial issues, obvious in the way his mother showed a fearful obedience to the large man in front of you.

“You here for my boy?” His voice was low and gruff and it was a bit remarkable how different Jake was than his father.

You opted for a small nod, only slightly playing a part considering he actually did a good job at intimidating you. He let out a hum of approval and stepped aside so you could enter the house, not asking anymore questions.

“It’s good you two get along.” You were taking in the main living space as you entered, his voice picking up a conversational tone that sounded slightly unnatural. “I was beginning to think he’d never talk to someone his own age, let alone a girl.”

He had a typical mannish tone, one you’d heard in movies or from the gross men who sat outside the town bar in a drunken haze as they catcalled and talked at a volume far too loud for your small town. It lacked the usual religious hold you were more used to, he almost sounded pleased at the idea of his son being with a girl.

You glanced at him and held his stare. You wondered for a second if he was testing you now, waiting for you to reveal any sinful intentions you had so he could run back to your father and earn some brownie points for catching your sickness in the act.

He raised an eyebrow at you as you cocked your head, willing him to talk further and continue in his attempt at baiting you.

“Upstairs on the right.” He eventually said, your stare unrelenting. You unfroze your stony expression and gave him a small smile, knowing you probably looked crazy with how fast your face changed.

You were walking away from him before he could say anything else or before Jake’s mother could return, skipping a step at a time in your haste to get upstairs.

Without knocking, you pushed open his door and barged in.

He was sat up in bed, lower half under the covers, and he let out a small shriek of surprise at your sudden intrusion, furthered by a quick inhale when he realized who it was that had just walked in.

“W-what are you doing here?” He was rushing out as he watched you close the door behind you and sit down on the end of his bed.

“I came to check on you.” You said it like it was obvious, a soft shrug of your shoulders. “Since you’re sick.”

His mouth parted in confusion for a second before he seemingly remembered he was meant to be ill, looking awkward and guilty at the reminder he had lied.

You didn’t address his obvious reaction, telling you what you already assumed, and instead climbed up further on his bed. He made a strange noise when you got closer to him, pulling back the blankets and getting underneath them with him. You briefly caught sight of his plaid pajama pants before you covered the both of you up.

“M-my parents.” He was shaking his head and anxiously looking at the door like he was waiting for his mom to walk in any second. You watched his distress, wondering if he was possibly hoping for that to happen, before you heard the sound of the front door slamming.

A look of fear passed over his face at the realization his parents had just left him alone with you. You were a bit surprised yourself but you kept your face neutral, watching him to drink up his reaction.

“I came all this way and you can’t even say thank you.” You tsked and relaxed against his pillows with an annoyed expression. “Especially after what you did yesterday.”

He looked upset at the reminder and he was sitting up more now, the blanket pulling forward around his thighs and he practically kneeled and titled forward in your direction. He wasn’t touching you but his hands were clasped together as he practically did a full bow on his bed.

“I’m so sorry.” He started to say the words but his voice broke around them and he rocked slightly back and forth. You almost laughed at the fact he was already about to cry and it’d only been about five minutes alone with you. “Thank you for coming.”

You imagined he’d been doing a lot of crying since you saw him last, staying up all night running your words on loop in his mind. The sincerity in your voice when you told him he committed a disgusting sin.

“Get back under the covers.” You spoke in a calm voice and he picked his head up to look at you in confusion, face red and eyes teary. He looked surprised you weren’t scolding him, having seemingly forgotten you were the one who practically forced him to let you touch him.

He stayed frozen like that for a few seconds before snapping back to reality and nodding appreciatively, getting back under the blankets and pulling them up again so you were covered. He seemed to only now realize you were laying back against the pillows and he mirrored you, laying on his side so he could face you.

“I won’t tell anybody what you did.” You whispered to him now that his attention was fully on you. Your hand came up to hold his face and he tensed for a second at the contact. “Or maybe I will… I haven’t decided.”

He shook his head hastily, scooting closer to your body and grabbing ahold of your hand that was on his face, wrapping both of his around your wrist and squeezing it softly in desperation.

“Y-you can’t.” He urged and you felt his hands shaking around yours. “I mean you can b-but I’m really so sorry and my dad, he’d kill me.”

You shushed him as he started to ramble, petting his cheek and frowning deeply at what he had said. You figured Jake’s dad hurt his mother but you hadn’t considered it extending to his child as well. A strange surge of anger ran through you despite your own twisted intentions.

Scooting down a bit more so you were completely laid down, you put a hand on his back and pulled him towards you until he got the hint and curled into your side with a soft cry. He was stuffing his face back into your neck like he did yesterday and you rubbed his back softly.

You vaguely acknowledged the fact he was completely pressed against your side now, almost laying half on top of you in his emotional state.

“I won’t tell.” You whispered, his soft and messy hair tickling your face as you spoke. In his desperation for comfort he seemed to forget about not touching you, his arm coming up to wrap around your stomach, tugging you closer in a rush of thankfulness and your eyebrows raised in surprise. “But only if you answer my questions.”

He nodded immediately and picked his head up off your neck so he could look at you more clearly. He looked particularly cute like this you decided, his hair unstyled and still sticking up from where he’d slept on it and his soft pajamas that were rubbing against your legs.

“Did you touch yourself last night.” You held his chin as you spoke so he was looking up at you, his head almost resting against your chest as he peered with big wet eyes.

He was shaking his head as much as he could and furrowing his eyebrows like he did the last time you asked him. “I don’t- I wouldn’t. I don’t know how even.”

This fascinated you slightly. You figured he didn’t understand masturbating or its purpose outside of it being sinful but the fact he’d never once curiously touched himself was interesting. You wondered how many nights he laid in bed crying with confusion at the dull ache between his legs.

“Did you like being in my mouth?” Your voice dropped lower for the second question and an automatic whine slipped out from his lips, his face immediately flushing with embarrassment as he seemed to replay the memory.

He was nodding hesitantly much to your annoyance, you wanted to hear him say it but you figured you could take it easy on him today.

Maybe easy wasn’t the best way to describe your current plan for him considering the way you were suddenly pressing your thigh in between his legs, smiling at him when he groaned loudly and tightened his grip on you.

Your side burned slightly from the force in which he curled his hands up at the sudden contact.

“You’re hard.” You said matter of factly, telling the truth and not just teasing him. He was solid against your thigh now and you heard him whimper when you shifted slightly so his tight grip on you was more comfortable. “I barely said anything and you’re hard.”

He shook his head in disagreement but his hips twitched forward, rubbing his erection against you and making a low drawn out sound at the feeling.

“Did I say you could do that?” Your tone was harsh again and he immediately froze, groaning softly and tucking his head forward onto your chest. You let your hand go back to this hair, petting him for a second before gripping it tightly and tugging his head back up to look at you.

He winced at the pain, face contorted as he tried to scoot away from you. However he still didn’t remove his arm from around your stomach so he wasn’t able to go far, his hand still kneading against your side like he didn’t realize he was even moving it.

“Ask me.” You instructed him, still holding his hair in a tight fist. “Clear words, no crying bullshit.”

He looked momentarily taken back by you swearing and being so harsh but then he had a look of guilt like he was remembering the other day and he was attempting to nod in head in agreement.

“Please I want… I want you to touch me.” He settled on, not sure how to word what he needed. You smiled softly at him for his attempt but you weren’t convinced, deciding on helping him ask you properly.

“Tell me you’re disgusting.” You whispered, leaning your face forward so your nose was touching his again, like it did momentarily yesterday. “Say you want to hump my leg like a dog.”

He looked confused and overwhelmed at your words, shaking his head in refusal until you moved your leg again. It rubbed against him and you almost laughed at the fact he was almost harder now even after your tone changed. His hips chased the feeling and you tugged his hair again in warning, listening to his soft groan of frustration.

“I want..” He hiccuped softly and shook his head, trying to force the strange words from his mouth. “I want to hump your leg please please.”

You let go of his hair and his head fell back down onto your chest. He hadn’t completely fulfilled your request but it was good enough for now.

“Alright baby.” You didn’t need to say anything else for him to understand, immediately pulling you closer again and rocking against your side.

You listened to his soft little whines as he humped against you desperately, moving in messy motions as he tried to chase after the feeling he recognized from yesterday.

The feeling of his hand gripping your side was making your head spin a bit much to your irritation and you gripped it tightly, moving it off your waist. He seemed to misunderstand and instead placed it directly over your belly button where your sweater had ridden up, pushing down softly as he rubbed the soft skin of your stomach.

You let out a small groan and this seemed to ignite something in him because he let out a little cry and nuzzled further into you as he dragged his clothed cock over your hip harder.

“Tell me it feels good.” You instructed him and you felt more annoyance at the fact your voice came out breathy, not liking the effect he was having on you.

“S-so good.” He immediately responded and you felt his leg wrap around yours, trying to get closer to you despite it being impossible. “Going to die it’s good, it’s good.”

You laughed softly at his dramatic wording and pet his hair again, trying to get his attention. He slowed down the grinding of his hips to look at you and you nearly cooed at his hooded wet eyes, trying to focus on your face but struggling.

You were originally planning on teasing him some more, attempting to get him to repeat the words you wanted to hear earlier, but at the sight of his pretty overwhelmed face you couldn’t help yourself from leaning in and kissing him softly.

He yelped at the feeling, tensing up for a few seconds before closing his eyes and trying to kiss you back, failing miserably.

You laughed against his lips and you could feel him frowning, face getting red with embarrassment as he uncomfortably shifted against you.

“Come here.” You tapped his back softly and nudged him so he was fully on top of you, squishing you under him but making it so you could reach his mouth better. “Rub your cock on me while we kiss.”

He whined softly, nodding his head despite the flush on his face and you waited while he slowly experimented with the new position, practically in missionary now. When he started to move his hips again, his hard cock was now rubbing directly against your core and he faltered at the feeling, nearly collapsing on top of you.

You smiled at his reaction. You had full doubt that he knew what sex was or the fact he was basically imitating it but you imagine he could get the gist that what you were doing was wrong.

You leaned your head forward to kiss him again, easier now that he was on top of you and seemingly more eager to get it right this time. He was still sloppy, not really understanding how to move his mouth or when but you took over, moving your lips against his slowly.

He seemed to get the hang of it eventually and you could feel his thrust getting more desperate as the kiss got deeper and faster.

Your tongue was in his mouth before he even realized and he made a small startled sound, hips stopping against yours at the new feeling. He was letting out high pitched whines and moans as you licked into his mouth, him drooling slightly and desperately trying to keep your tongue where it was.

You could feel him sucking on it, twisting his head to try to get it deeper in his mouth and he instinctively gave a particularly hard thrust, causing you to moan into him.

This seemed to startle him, pulling back off your face with a wet chin and hooded eyes, looking down at you in amazement.

He did it again experimentally and you could feel the hard print of his cock directly against you, your back arching as your hand came up to grip his hair and stop him from doing it again. You were reminding yourself this wasn’t about your pleasure, you wanted to ruin him and nothing else.

But you couldn’t deny your attraction to him, almost the perfect boy for you if there was to ever be one.

It didn’t help he happened to have an impressive size on him, although you doubted he even realized he was bigger than usual or would know what to do if given that information.

You wrapped a leg around his side and he sucked in a breath, having better access now. He kept rolling his hips sloppily into you and moaning loudly, forgetting who he was or where he was currently at.

“What would mommy think if she saw you like this?” You took it upon yourself to remind him, whispering into his mouth with a pant and almost laughing at the way he immediately tensed and stopped humping against you. “If she walked it to see her son so desperate to sin.”

He was shaking his head and lifting it slightly to be able to look at you better, eyes welling up with tears as he glanced back over his shoulder at the closed door. You hadn’t been there long and you imagined church still had a few hours before it’d be over and they’d be heading back but he seemed to forget all this at the mention of his parents.

“I’m not.” His hair was messy in his face, bangs slightly damp from sweating and his previous tears. “I don’t want to sin, I don’t want to be bad. Please.”

You hummed softly at him, lips forming a mocking pout as you looked at him with gentle eyes. You stroked his cheek and he closed his eyes, leaning against your hand like a puppy.

“My poor baby.” You cooed and kissed him again briefly, he immediately chased after it when you pulled away and you tapped your finger on his cheek to stop him. “You have no idea what I’m going to do to you.”

He seemed confused at what you meant but too drunk on the feeling of your touch and lips, chasing after them again in a messy kiss that was mostly just him trying to get his tongue back against yours.

You indulged him and let him lick into it, letting out soft desperate moans and you were suddenly realizing how much you were aching for him despite managing to keep a cool demeanor on the outside.

You shifted your leg that was wrapped around his middle and he seemed to remember that he was currently on top of you and he went back to writhing against your body, his hard on rubbing against you an almost painful amount now that you were granting him more access with the switched position.

He wasn’t able to hold himself up, curling up on your chest while he moved his lower body with sobs of pain and need.

“God, I thought it’d take longer to break you.” You were trying to make fun of him but your voice broke in a moan at the feeling of him pushing himself against your sensitive clit. “You’re so fucking nasty, look at yourself.”

He was shaking his head and crying fully now, chasing after a high he didn’t even understand and you were almost feeling dizzy from the pace he was going.

“I’m good.” He was blabbering out and looking at you again, trying to lean forward for a kiss but letting out a sharp cry midway and falling back down with his head on your chest.

“You’re a good boy Jake.” You cooed at him, nodding even though he couldn’t see you and he felt sick at the constant changing of your tones. “My good boy right?”

He was suddenly sitting up again, pulling himself against you so he could look at you directly in the eye, if he could see through his tears. He was nodding his head in earnest and you felt your lip quirk up in a smile.

“I’m yours. I want to be yours.” He was rushing out, hands leaving your stomach to balance on either side of you. His tone was pleading and you wondered if he even knew what he was asking for or if he was just repeating what you’d said dumbly.

You kissed him softly and he let out a shaky breath of relief against your lips. However he started to frown when you were suddenly pushing him off of you and patting the empty space on the bed right beside where you were laying. He looked confused and hurt but he didn’t ask any questions, simply rolling over and waiting to see what you were attempting to do.

You watched him for a few seconds, taking in the change of appearance in such a short amount of time.

He was laid back fully on the bed, eyes hooded and cloudy. His mouth was parted slightly as he panted, his chest rising and falling at a fast speed as his arm reached up to try and push his messy hair out of his face. You liked the way he looked like this, especially the way his shirt was ridden up on his stomach, a sliver of skin showing.

He started making small impatient whines and groans so you took mercy on him, flipping yourself over slightly so you could situate yourself on his lap.

You sucked in a breath the second you did, quickly shutting your lips tight after so he didn’t catch sight of the display of pleasure. He was hard underneath and pressed tightly against your core as you sat on him.

“Oh my god.” He was crying out and his hands jutted forward like he was going to grab your sides, stopping midway and flailing around as he didn’t know what he was meant to do with them.

“Touch me.” You spat at him, reaching down to grab his wrist and put his hands on your ass as you leaned forward so you were in a similar position to his a few minutes ago, laying on top of him.

He froze as he touched you and you almost scolded him for acting so prudish with touching you like he wasn’t just trying to fuck you through his cute little pajamas. However you figured it was harder for him to deliberately do something versus acting purely on the overwhelming lust he was feeling.

You gripped his jaw harshly in your hand, your nails digging into his skin slightly as you used your thumb to pull his mouth open and hummed with satisfaction.

“Say you want me inside you.” You whispered, leaning down to talk into his open mouth. You watched his eyes widen in confusion but you rubbed your hips against him as motivation and he immediately complied.

“Want you inside me.” He moaned out, big fat tears sliding down his face. “Y/N please I need it please.”

He didn’t even know what he was asking for but he was overwhelmed and sinking back down into that fuzzy headspace, willing to do anything to get pleasure from you.

You kept his mouth open after he was done speaking and he opened it wider for you, although not understanding where you were heading with this action. He watched with wide confused eyes as you leaned over him and slowly spit into his open mouth.

He cried out, hips bucking up instinctively at the sensation of your spit on his tongue so directly and you almost fell forward from the roughness in which he fucked himself up into you. You smacked his cheek lightly and he snapped his mouth shut with another moan, eyes shut in euphoria.

You hummed at him in approval, leaning back down to kiss him again and lick into his mouth, letting him turn his head sideways in an attempt to get your tongue as deep as possible. You wondered if he was purposely imitating the blowjob you’d given him or if he was just that desperate to be consumed.

“I’m going to take you to hell with me.” You whispered, pulling out of the kiss and petting his hair softly. He shook his head and let out a small sob, this time not from pleasure.

“Do you want to cum?” You didn’t address his denial or tease him further for now, knowing now you had him completely hooked. He was addicted to you and the feelings you gave him and no mean words would be able to keep him away from you.

He seemed hesitant in his nod, now once again thinking about the sins he was committing and the fact he was skipping church to touch a girl inappropriately. But he did eventually nod his head, eyes still watering.

“Then fuck me baby.” You rolled back over as you spoke, flopping onto your back and rubbing his chest through his shirt, slightly surprised by the thick build he had. He was immediately on top of you again and you almost laughed at his haste.

You didn’t mean it literally and you didn’t fear him taking it as such considering he didn’t even know what it meant, he just knew you were cursing and being dirty.

You wondered if he even knew what you had inside your pants, scrapping that idea for another time instead so you didn’t get yourself too worked up thinking about how much it would ruin him to feel you.

He didn’t last long once he was back on top of you, only a few seconds passed before he was letting out a loud cry and hiccuping, his hips jutting against you a few more times in aftershock before he was collapsing on top of you.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” He was sobbing into your neck and you wrapped your arms around his back, rubbing it slowly with an eye roll. “I’m sorry, God please forgive me.”

——

Jake had fallen asleep on top of you shortly after that, exhausted from everything you’d been putting him through both mentally and physically.

You let him lay there on top of you surprisingly despite how uncomfortable it was and how much you kept readying yourself to shove him off of you and leave him without any comfort, you simply couldn’t.

You weren’t quite sure why, it wasn’t like being mean to him was going to ruin your plan and make him not want to talk to you anymore. He was trapped now with you.

Yet you found yourself staying and not only staying but watching him as he slept. He looked younger like this, despite always being very puppy like and boyish you couldn’t deny that Jake was a man and he could be an intimidating one if it wasn’t for his personality. His eyelashes were long and fluttering like he was having a vigorous dream and his back would rise and fall with every deep inhale he took.

By the time he woke up you’d been laying there for probably an hour or two staring at him or looking around his room with curiosity, you felt him shifting against you and almost pretended you were asleep before deciding against it.

He froze his movements when he realized where he was exactly, or at least who it was underneath him. Then he was rolling off of you onto his back with a groan and you were suddenly feeling very cold without his weight and body warmth.

“Did my parents come home?” His voice was low and groggy from sleep and crying and you turned your head to look at him now that you were laying side by side.

“Are you kidding? Like your mother isn’t going to run in here the first second the car parks and hose you down.”

He laughed softly at your words, almost a scoff and your lip quirked up in a smile at his casual reaction, knowing his guard must be down since he was still so tired.

“She wouldn’t do that.” He eventually whispered and you could feel his shoulder pressing against yours. “At least the hose part.”

“Is she as bad as mine?” You weren’t sure what prompted you to ask him something so personal or why you were even making conversation with him in the first place but you were suddenly curious.

“Not sure.” He was looking at you, you could feel it on the side of your head. “My dad is though.”

You hummed as a response, already figuring that from the times you’d interacted with him and the way Jake talked about him earlier. You felt a sudden wave of discomfort at your current situation and fidgeted in your spot on the bed.

“Are you going to leave?” His voice was a whisper still and he wasn’t looking at you anymore from what you could tell. He sounded slightly upset like the thought of you leaving wasn’t pleasant.

“You wanted me to earlier.” You scoffed softly but it was humorless, for some reason feeling offended at the reminder despite knowingly doing everything in your power to make him uncomfortable for your own satisfaction.

He didn’t say anything for a while and you listened to him breathing softly, wondering if he caught on to the hint of insecurity you were accidentally showcasing.

“Well… I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then.” He eventually said and you barely heard him considering how low his voice had gotten.

“See you tomorrow Jake.”

——

Tuesday’s were another day that your schedule was slightly shifted after church service. You had always been instructed to some form of community service on that day of the week, wether is be picking up trash or teaching a small class to the elders and children.

You didn’t mind this despite your distaste for religion. You got some sick satisfaction from watching religious people interact, like babies excitedly chatting about fairy tails and wishing for a big grand gesture to fix their own shitty lives.

Plus it got you out of your house and kept you slightly on the good side of your mother typically although you doubt with your recent actions you’d ever be on that side of the fence again.

So it was particularly annoying when you were tasked to clean the church basement, an area usually unseen by anybody in the town including yourself.

It was a mess of overfilled shelves and baskets stacked to the brim with old holiday decorations or donations from past families that were never put to use.

You’d been hesitant to agree, having to try ten times harder than usual to apply your usual fake smile towards your father when you graciously nodded and accepted the task. Luckily a handful of other volunteers had also followed you down the creaky stairs, one of them being Jake.

Not on his own volition considering the way his eyes bulged out of his head when his father roughly nudged him as you stood at the center of the stage requesting helping hands. He hesitantly held his in the air and avoided making eye contact with you as you smiled happily.

The same smile you held now as you stood side by side with him, taking things off the shelves and throwing them into a trash pile. He looked more anxious than usual, like he was genuinely worried you’d try to do something to him while people were watching.

“Miss Y/N?” One of the older women who had volunteered was approaching the two of you, holding a small basket of, what looked like, old arts and crafts. “I found this and was wondering if you thought your father might want to hang them up in the youth study room?”

“I think that’s a wonderful idea ma’am.” You were smiling widely at her, eyes soft and full of light. “You should bring them up to him.”

She was smiling appreciatively at you before turning and heading back up the stairs, missing the way your smile immediately dropped back into a blank expression.

Jake however, didn’t miss it and you heard him scoff from next to you as he observed the interaction. You glanced at him with a raised eyebrow and he shrugged.

“Don’t you get tired of doing that all the time?” He questioned and you faltered slightly. You hadn’t ever really considered it as something you were doing necessarily so his statement threw you off.

“I don’t know… I do it with everybody. I just do it.” You shrugged and awkwardly looked away from him, feeling confronted.

“You don’t do it with me.” He suddenly declared and you were reminded that you didn’t actually know Jake or his personality that well, completely caught off guard by his bluntness.

“Maybe because I knew you were just as bad as me.” You dropped your voice into a small whisper, leaning closer to him slightly as he glanced around to see which volunteers were over in your side of the basement.

He picked up an old toy and tossed it off in the distance, shaking his head in denial. “That’s not true at all.”

“Why isn’t it?” You cocked your head at him and stopped rummaging through the shelf, more interested in what he was saying. You turned your body so you were facing him and could lean against the wood.

“I believe in this.” He looked around the room as if to emphasize what he was referring to. “I love god.”

“Do you? Or have you just been told to?” You were already sure of the answer but you were curious what he would say about that, if he’s ever sat and thought that over or if his faith was really that unwavering.

“I never questioned it before.” He confirmed with a stern voice, sending you a sharp look so you would understand he was serious. “Not once in my life until we moved here. Not once until..”

He trailed off but the implication was heavy and he looked away with a bright flush on his face. He was obviously referring to you and you felt a small spark of satisfaction at the fact he was implying you were the first thing to ever make him doubt, implying that he was doubting at all.

He scowled slightly when he noticed the bright smile that was on your face, one you didn���t even realize you had.

“I’m serious Y/N. If anyone ever found out I…” He didn’t finish his sentence again but you could get the gist of what he was implying, your smile dropping into a frown.

“You think I don’t know that? The stakes are way higher on my side of things incase you forgot.” Your tone was harsher now but you were taking a step closer to him, not bothering to check if anybody was watching. “But you’re mine right? Like you said?”

He didn’t say anything for a minute, turning to face you and taking a big gulp when he realized you were practically close enough to kiss now. You waited for him to say something against your claim, to tell you he had been lust drunk or he didn’t mean it.

Instead he slowly nodded, eyes shooting down awkwardly to your feet. His shy expression was one you were more familiar seeing him with and your smile returned.

“Can you come over today?” You whispered and he looked back at you with a shocked expression, clearly not expecting you to say that. “I have something to show you.”

He was nodding again, not trusting himself to speak without stuttering and you grinned, turning back to the shelf and continuing with your sorting.

——

By the time church was over and Jake got to your house, you were already sat outside on the porch in a big sweater and a scarf wrapped around your neck.

“Are we not.. going in?” He was standing at the end of your driveway, putting his bikes kickstand down and watching you with a confused expression.

“I said I had to show you something didn’t I?” He watched you as you stood from the cement slab, grabbing your own bike from off the side of your house and walking it down towards him with a half smile.

He didn’t say anything as you both got on your bikes, following behind you as you rode off the curb and down the street.

The ride was long and cold, the sky grey as you passed by old houses and empty shops that’d been abandoned as the owners aged. Jake found the town sad a bit but he was curious what you were leading him too and slightly excited that you wanted to spend time with him in a different way than normal.

Eventually you were crossing the threshold of the city limit, a big sign with chipping paint that was welcoming you in or wishing you safe travels out.

After that it wasn’t long before you were slowing to a stop, surrounded by trees and a large field. Jake watched you get off your bike with a raised eyebrow, waiting until you looked back at him with a beckoning hand.

“It’s this way.” You urged and he hopped off, pushing the bikes alongside each other until you were on the other side of the muddy field, approaching a large river. The sound of it was loud as it rushed but not loud enough to block out the noise of the highway across from it, just off in the distance.

Jake watched it as you unpacked your backpack that he didn’t even realize you’d been wearing until now, unfolding a thick blanket and laying it down on the wet grass.

“They can’t build houses over here because the river always overflows.” You started to explain, pulling out a thermos and something wrapped in paper towel as you talked. “The water levels higher than usual because all the rain we get.”

“Sometimes I wonder if they even know we are over here.” You continued with a scoff, sitting criss cross on the blanket now and looking over at Jake who was dropping his bike.

He sat down too, carefully keeping his wet and muddy shoes off of the fabric.

“Do you come here a lot?” He was muttering what felt like his first words of the day, looking around the area and seeing virtually no signs of civilization other than the highway. He wondered for a second if you had even been able to hear him over the sound of it.

“I guess. There isn’t much else to do if you haven’t noticed by now.” You were shrugging as you spoke, you stuck one of your legs out so it nudged against his.

“I’ve been pretty occupied since I’ve gotten here so I guess I didn’t.” His words made you laugh although he was being serious, only having gone from home to church to your room.

He didn’t say anything as you laughed and he still didn’t when you were suddenly moving out of your sitting position, crawling towards him on all fours until you could press yourself against him.

Every part of you was touching as you sat side by side, both facing the rushing river and trying to not focus on how cold it was outside, the sky slowly darkening now since it was around dinner time. That reminded you that you had packed sandwiches and you were leaning forward slightly to reach them, handing him one and watching him unwrap the paper towel in confusion.

His cheeks turned red when he saw what it was, glancing at you and nodding softly in appreciation before taking a bite.

“Why are we here?” He was breaking the silence the two of you had fallen into as you ate and passed the warm thermos back and forth, watching the highway and the building traffic.

“I don’t know.” You felt strangely vulnerable at this question, not really knowing yourself why you’d taken him to such a private place. “Don’t think too deeply about it.”

Your sudden change of tone made him frown and tense against you, a harshness seeping into your words as you reminded him what type of relationship you had going here.

To further prove your point that this wasn’t anything being sin and attraction, you were quickly turning your upper body so you could face him before leaning forward and pressing into a kiss. He froze completely for a few seconds, brain short circuiting at the sudden contact.

Then he was closing his eyes slowly and kissing you back, a low him of appreciation slipping through your lips and vibrating against his.

You turned your body more so you could climb over his legs, straddling him and making a small noise of surprise when his hands were immediately on your lower back, tugging you in tighter against him.

The two of you kissed like that for a while, you sitting comfortably in his lap and feeling him grow hard underneath you embarrassingly quick. He felt strong and sturdy under you but he was letting out little whines and whimpers and he kept trying to pull you in closer, almost like he was trying to merge the two of you together.

Then you were sitting up on your knees and tugging your long skirt up so it was bunched around your hips, mouth parting slightly at the feeling of the cold air nipping at your bare skin. He watched you with confusion, eyes darting around your legs so fast he felt dizzy.

You sat back down on his hard on, now only separated by his jeans and your underwear and he let out a low moan, shooting forward and ducking his head forward into your neck.

“Y/N.” He whined out and you shushed him, petting his hair and rocking your hips slowly against him, liking the way his mouth parted against your skin as he took deep shuddering breaths.

“I want you to feel me.” You were whispering into his hair and he picked his up in alarm, shaking his head and glancing down at your exposed lap.

“I- I don’t know how.” He was rushing out and you laughed softly, reaching down to grab his wrist off the blanket and pick his hand up.

You placed it against your stomach like it was the other day when he was pressing on it absentmindedly, letting him feel the smooth skin above your underwear line for a while before pushing his hand down slightly past the elastic and listening to his gasp.

You were still rocking against him but slower now, letting him feel you for the first time at his own pace and trying not to overwhelm him.

His hand was shaking fast, from the cold and nerves. You imagined he could feel his own hand pressing against his cock as he kept moving it down, trapping it between the both of you. You dipped down again when he hesitatingly stopped moving it once he was fully in your underwear and he let out a cry at the feeling of your wetness against his skin.

“W-what?” He was crying out in concern, eyes shooting up to look at yours. “Are you okay? Are you bleeding?”

“I’m wet.” You explained to him with a breathy voice despite the fact you knew he didn’t understand what that would mean or if it was good or bad. “Means I feel good, you make me feel good.”

That seemed to alarm him more than the idea of you bleeding, his hand instinctively twitching and pressing against you. You leaned down to kiss him again and he reciprocated, forgetting his hand was on you for a few seconds before you were lowering your hips again.

He wasn’t doing anything but just the feeling of his large hands cupping you was making you feel dizzy, rocking against him again despite the strange noise he let out.

“Touch me baby c’mon.” He looked up at you at the sound of your urging, eyes big and wet. He looked nervous but he hesitatingly moved his fingers, curling slightly and pressing against your clit. You let out a cry and he immediately froze, mistaking it for pain. “No Jake, it’s okay do it again.”

He didn’t look sure but he followed your instructions anyways, curling his hand up and being amazed by the way you threw your head back in a small cry.

The two of you seemed to forget about your surroundings, about the rushing lake or the freezing air that was only making the cold grass more bitter to sit in. You almost forgot who you were or the fact you were only a few minutes outside of town, practically riding Jake in a field visible to anyone who cared.

“You’re so pretty.” You remarked and he frowned at your gentle word causing you to lean forward and kiss him softly. “I want to keep you forever.”

You were too lust drunk to think about the heavy implication of your words or the fact saying them went against everything you’d previously been attempting. The whole reason you’d even started touching him today was to distract him from the fact you’d taken him to a place personal to you, to make him forget your act of kindness.

“You can keep me.” He was stuttering out in a high voice, not really sure if you meant what you were saying considering how confusing he found you, how strange this whole situation was.

Jake had accepted at some point that his life was changing now and for some reason, god had put you in his path. At first he figured you were some type of test of faith, if he could just ignore you and your evil nature then he’d be able to prove he was a good man, a holy man. But he began to wonder eventually if you were truly as terrible as he originally thought, as his mother kept remarking every time his father wasn’t in the room.

You made him cry and you occasionally would say terrible things to him. And it was no doubt you had a habit of sinning and making him sin, even when he didn’t want to.

But he thought you were kind at other times and he could tell by the way you zoned out in church during service and were nice to the young residents or helpful to the old, that you didn’t have no emotion. Maybe you were right, although you had a twisted way of teaching him about it.

You were leaning down to kiss him again and he was taking his hand out of your underwear, wiping it on his pants briefly before cupping your face in both his palms and keeping you there.

“Did I ruin you?” You were muttering against his panting mouth with a small smile, hands petting his hair affectionately.

“Almost.” He answered with a slight laugh, kissing you again.

——

By the time you and Jake had left the field, giggling together while you stuffed the wet blanket back into your backpack and jumped over mud puddles, the sun was set and gone.

You followed the streetlights home, walking the bikes side by side the entire time so the 20 minute ride turned into an hour walk.

You went a few streets without talking for a while, listening to the sounds of your tires rolling over gravel or the music nature provided from the surrounding woods just off in the distance. By the time you were crossing back into city limits and setting your sights on the abandoned buildings on the outskirts of town, your curiosity was weighing on you.

“Why did you move here anyways?” You were mumbling on accident so you weren’t sure he had heard you until he cleared his throat.

“A council member caught dad hitting mom.” He said it casually and you wondered if he was used to it or it was a practiced tone. “I guess they thought it’d look bad to punish him there so they sent us away.”

“Does he hit you too?” You weren’t sure why you asked that considering you were already pretty positive of the answer.

“Yeah sometimes.” He shrugged and tried not to fidget at the feeling of you watching him, kicking at a loose rock in the gravel road. “I think he’s mad I’m not very manly.”

“I think you’re manly.” You were frowning and furrowing your eyebrows, only deepening when you heard him let out a disbelieving scoff. “I’m serious.”

And you were. Despite Jake’s outwardly timid personality and the way he basically turned into a nervous obedient puppy everytime you got your hands on him, he was clearly a man. Both in his broad athletic build and in his day to day actions and personality. He was blunt and honest, telling you what he felt even if he thought it might anger you.

“Yeah, whatever.” He was whispering, still not trusting what you were saying and you froze in your tracks, stood directly under a streetlight. He slowed to a stop when he realized you were walking anymore and looked back at you in confusion.

“You wouldn’t have picked on me if I was manly.” He was explaining once he caught sight of your frustrated expression. “You probably wouldn’t have even noticed me.”

“You think I’m picking on you?” You ignored his second statement for now, eyes darkening at the implication of the first.

You weren’t sure why it struck a nerve within you considering he wasn’t half wrong. You had originally sought him out as a victim for you, an experiment or a game. Maybe even a way to further upset your mother, but you didn’t think he thought you were picking on him entirely.

“I don’t know what to think.” He was shaking his head and his eyes looked sad. He started to push his bike again and you rushed to catch up with him. “This is just confusing.”

“Well I’m not.” You kept your voice firm in an attempt to assure him and he didn’t say anything else, sparing you a long glance before looking back forward so he didn’t accidentally hit a pothole.

The two of you didn’t talk anymore after that, walking in a comfortable silence as you slowly got to a more familiar area for him and he realized you were slowly approaching his neighborhood. You must be planning on dropping him off before making you own way home he decided.

Those plans were quickly halted when you turned the corner of his street and saw your own parents car in his driveway, right next to the Sim’s. You both froze in place and stared in front of you in horror.

“Maybe it’s a coincidence.” He whispered and you jumped at the sudden sound of his voice, the words shaking slightly. “We can tell them we got caught up studying at the park.”

“If they’re here they already know.” You immediately stated in a flat voice, having a sick gut feeling as you looked at the two cars. The lights were on in Jake’s living room and you could vaguely make out multiple shadows walking around inside. “I don’t understand.”

“Maybe your dad heard something the other day.” He was rushing out in a hush, looking at you and your uncharacteristically frozen figure. He’d never seen you scared before and it made his skin crawl. “Or that lady in the basement.”

“No that’s not possible, I was-“ Your words faltered and you sucked in a panicked breath, trying to recall the two incidents he was talking about. You had been so caught up in your giddiness to talk to him that you hadn’t paid attention to your surroundings this morning at all, saying damning idiotic things to him in the church of all places.

His hand was coming up and brushing against your arm that was covered in goosebumps. “Go home. I’ll think of a cover for you, I’ll handle it.”

You looked at him with big eyes, suddenly overwhelmed by his presence and the fact he was willingly to lie for you so easily, willing to sin to both his parents and yours so you could be spared from punishment.

“I can’t leave you with them.” You were shaking your head in earnest and he deflated, understanding immediately there was no way of talking you out of it.

You both stood there for a few more beats, staring at each other under the street light and you briefly wondered if you’d see him again after this. You weren’t sure what your parents knew or if they were just following a strong hunch but you knew it didn’t matter. The second they suspected anything, atleast the men, you wouldn’t be allowed to see Jake anymore.

Eventually he took the first step, setting his bike down at the corner of the street and nudging for you to follow suit although you gave him a confused glance.

Following closely behind him, you tried to match his slow casual pace approaching the door and almost felt like you were going to throw up on the porch when he pushed it open without knocking, deciding to not give them any warning you were approaching.

The sight was just as dreadful as you imagined it would be, your parents sat on the Sim’s old couch while his were standing at attention and listening to whatever it was your father had been saying before your arrival.

All heads turned in your direction when you entered, half looking surprised you were together and the others showing no reaction. Your mother was immediately leaping up from the couch and approaching you with a scowl.

You felt her hand hitting your cheek before you even processed she was crossing the room, your head shooting sideways as your own palms came up to grasp your face in shock. Despite your differences, your mother had never directly struck you.

“You’re a disgrace.” She spat, literally, in your direction and you vaguely saw Jake flinch in your direction like he wanted to grab you. “No more games little girl, they finally see what I have all these years.”

One glance in your fathers direction told you she was telling the truth. He’d never been a good father but he wasn’t cruel, choosing religion over warmth and parenting. So upon seeing his cold stare you automatically knew things were too far gone.

“And you.” She was turning to sneer in Jake’s direction now and you were slightly surprised to see him square back his shoulders, jaw clenching. “How can you be so stupid?”

“Mary, please advise yourself on how you speak to my son.” Jake’s mother was piling up from the couch “I thought we agreed that your daughter is the one at fault here.”

“What?” Jake was spitting out and your eyes widened, wanting to tell him to shut up and let it run its course. “It was as much me as it was her.”

“No it wasn’t.” You were shaking your head at lightning speed, taking a step forward but rocking back again when your mother shot a glare in your direction. “It was all me.”

Jake was glaring at you but you knew he held no anger, only frustration that you were attempting to take the punishment for this. He was crazy to think you wouldn’t considering it was all your doing in the first place.

“It doesn’t matter.” Your fathers cool and calm voice was ringing out and everybody turned to look at him. “Tomorrow morning Y/N will be sent to a correctional school. I should’ve listened to your mother when she begged me to send you years ago.”

Your eyes were watering as you looked at him with pure betrayal. Despite your hatred for your town, for your longing to leave and never return you felt an overwhelming sense of panic at the thought of being sent away. You looked over at Jake to find him already watching you with the same panic in his eyes.

Then he was turning back towards your father with a shake of his head and a stony expression. “I won’t let you do that.”

Jake’s father scoffed, making his first noise of the night and you glanced over at his large frame. He was watching Jake with disgust and amusement but you saw a faint hint of a challenge in his eyes.

“And what will you do son?” He was approaching Jake with a sneer, looking down at him. Jake raised his chin to meet his stare, his hands shaking against his sides. “You can’t even protect your own mother.”

It was said in a whisper so only Jake could hear it but you were standing close enough to faintly catch it, mouth parting in shock at his blunt admission before opening further when Jake was suddenly moving faster than you could even pinpoint when he had started.

Jake was on his father before he even had a chance to prepare for it and you could hear the shrieks of the women, your own fathers grunts as he jumped off the couch to try and control the situation. You were standing on the side, hands out and trying to grip a hold of Jake’s jacket to tug him back when he glanced back at your hurriedly while his dad was disoriented.

“Go.” He mouthed the word at you and you felt your heart shatter slightly, shaking your head in denial before he gave you a firm nod and a soft smile.

You could do nothing but watch in horror as his dad took advantage of him being distracted, slamming Jake onto the ground, nearly blocking the front door. You took your chance to run before somebody realized you were going to and stopped you, sparing Jake one last look before heading out the door.

You aggressively wiped your tears as you ran down the street, sobbing as you could still hear the screams and grunts of pain from Jake coming from the door you’d left open. Your cheek was stinging still but you powered through it, letting the cold numb you as you hopped on your bike you’d abandoned under the light and started peddling so hard your thighs burned.

The wind was howling as you sped past your own neighborhood and the church, the empty buildings a blur through your teary eyes and you fell off your bike once you finally approached the field you’d been in earlier that day, landing in the mud with a cry.

You left your bike near the entrance, wobbling closer to the river with harsh sobs ripping through you, your knees and skirt dripping in mud.

For a moment you wondered if this was it. If you’d been wrong your entire life about religion and sin and this was god letting you know he was here and he was furious with you for the evil you let harvest.

If taking Jake and hurting him was all because you had done bad things and harmed the people around you. You let out a scream of frustration and looked up at the dark grey, wanting to tell him you didn’t care if he was watching and it wasn’t fair.

Instead you let yourself fall against the wet grass, curling into a ball and hugging your knees to your chest as you listened to the rushing river and the honks of traffic. You briefly remembered you were still wearing your backpack and it contained a blanket you could cover up with but you had no energy left to reach back to get it.

You weren’t sure how long you laid there crying, the sky getting darker and darker as you sat and waited.

You weren’t positive what you were even waiting for. Maybe for your parents to come searching for you so they could drag you away to some far away place or maybe the more hopeful part of you was waiting for Jake to come, to tell you he was okay.

The thought of him made you cry harder when you remembered the sounds he was making as you ran out and how furious his father looked about being struck. A man with an ego was dangerous especially when it got wounded.

Waves of guilt were rushing over you for dragging Jake into your twisted fantasies, for wanting to keep him even after you’d gotten what you wanted. For liking him despite not knowing you were capable of that until he arrived. You wished the river would fill up and swallow you inside it.

Over all the combined sounds you barely registered a few being added.

You didn’t hear the sound of the bike tires approaching, or the splashing of the mud puddles underneath hurried feet. You didn’t hear his worried pants or the desperate call of your name in the distance.

It wasn’t until he was there did you feel him, it wasn’t until he was reaching down to grab your arm.

Not until it was skin on skin.

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

[french-goodbye]

If you want it good, downright iconic

Summary: your third date with Eddie goes even better than expected.

Warnings: kissing, masturbating. 18+, MINORS DNI.

Notes: title from Gibson Girls by Ethel Cain bc Eddie would’ve loved preacher’s daughter.

The first time Eddie asked you out, you were honestly surprised.

He now had been regularly dropping by the record store where you work, all smiles and fleeting touches, usually backed by silly teasing jokes. At the beginning you thought he might’ve liked you, but then two months went by and you thought to yourself that if he was interested, he would’ve definitely asked you out by now… right?

Turns out you were wrong and he was just bidding his time to make sure you were interest before he made a move. That happened a month ago, when he stopped by the store in his usual leather jacket and a pretty wildflower bouquet in his hands, and nervously asked if you wanted to hang out sometime.

“Like a date?” you’d asked hopefully, considering the huge crush you’d been nursing on him ever since he first walked into the store, chains hanging from his black jeans and chunky silver rings.

“If you want it to be” was all he said, fiddling with those same rings on his fingers.

Now after two official dates and many non official hang outs, he was taking you on your third one. The two of you had decided on watching the movie Halloween on the drive in by the edge of town and he had picked you up at your house earlier that night, a beaming smile on his face and a bag full of your favorite snacks on the passenger seat. Then, you couldn’t be bothered to hide your desire to squish his cheeks together and press kisses to his face until he was flushing red and pushing you away, claiming you’d be late for the movie.

After the movie, he had invited you to his trailer claiming his his uncle was on the night shift at work once more and that “he needed you to hold his hand because of how scary the movie was”. Of course you said yes, and that’s how you found yourself being led to his trailer, his hand clasped in yours swinging between your bodies.

You’re not stupid. You know what the third date usually entails, and the fact that Eddie invited you to his house when his uncle isn’t home just all but guarantees he’s thinking the same thing. It’s not like you can reprimand him for that either, since he took the first step and asked you out, you haven’t been exactly shy on telling him how attracted to him you are.

You’ve kissed enough times by now to know what he likes and what he doesn’t, but tonight was the farthest you’ve ever gone. The darkness of the drive in and the privacy of his van making it so, so easy for you to climb over the gear shift of his van and onto his lap and kiss him, kiss him, kiss him, until his van’s windows were foggy and your lips were red and spit slicked and you could feel his hardness poking your thigh for a second, before he readjusted you on his lap as Michael Myers killed Laurie’s friends behind you.

“I really don’t understand why people always die after having sex in horror movies” you complain as you take off our shoes by the front door, his hand on your elbow so you don’t loose your balance. “It’s such a puritanical take.”

“It’s the satanic panic, sweetheart. Can’t have teenagers having pre marital sex” he answers as he toes off his own sneakers and guides you to his now familiar room, that you came to know at your other non official dates, when he had forced you to come over to listen to the new Metallica album and to watch him play guitar for you.

“It’s stupid, it’s what it is” you complain, walking into his room like you own the place. You start removing your jewelry and putting it on top of his dresser.

“Oh, so you are having pre marital sex, sweetheart?” His eyes are almost dancing and he’s wiggling his brows suggestively, teasing you.

Despite his teasing jokes, you can’t help the knot that tightens in your stomach just by thinking of sex and Eddie Munson in the same sentence. You want so bad to find out everything that makes him tick, how he likes to be touched and how he’d sound if you touched him. Tonight had been the farthest you ever got together, as you sat on his lap and felt his half hard cock almost burn a whole through your dress and felt him give you a particularly nasty hickey on your neck.

You throw him a bored glance over your shoulder, trying to smother the fire in your belly as he walks closer, cornering you against his desk as his chest presses to yours.

“Is that your way of asking if I’m gonna have sex with you?” you ask boldly, but smiling and wrapping your arms around his neck. “Since it’s our third date and all.”

“Oh no, I wouldn’t wanna do that” he shakes his head vehemently and you raise your brows. “I mean, you just said people who have sex in horror movies die. I’d never risk my life like that.”

“So you’d risk mine?” You scoff indignantly.

He shrugs, “yeah, sure. Why not?”

“You wouldn’t survive even if you didn’t have sex anyway” you sulk playfully, feeling his hands reach for your waist and pull you closer.

“Excuse me? I resent that statement.”

“You’re the town’s satanist, remember? You’re the first suspect,” you explain as he walks backwards towards his bed, turning you around when he’s close enough and pushing you around until the mattress hits your knees. “You gotta die so people can be sure you aren’t really the killer.”

“What about you? Are you the pretty girl who survives despite it all?” He asks, his nose rubbing against yours and his lips so, so close.

“It depends…” you begin. “Are you gonna make a move on me or are we just talking about horror movie tropes all night?”

He laughs loudly, gently pushing you backwards until you fall and bounce on his bed, squealing loudly as you do. He immediately throws himself on the bed and crawls after you.

“Oh, we’re feeling feisty today, aren’t we?” He asks, kneeling as you your legs spread wider so he can slot himself in the space between them.

“I’ve been waiting long enough for you, Munson” you tease.

“Excuse me? You could’ve made a move! What about feminism?” He complains, lowering himself until he’s on top of you and his hips are pressed between your legs and you can feel his half hard cock from your time at the drive in probing your inner thigh.

“I’m a lady!” you protest, your hands climbing up his back to pull him impossibly closer. “We don’t do that”

He smiles but leans closer and closer, until his lips brush yours, but still doesn’t kiss you. You try to kiss him but he dodges you, one of his hands sinking into the hair at nape of your neck to tug it and pull you away as he holds himself up with his other hand.

“Beg for it then, little lady”

“Eddie-“ you whine, trying to kiss him again as he grips your hair to stop you almost forcefully.

“Say please for me?” He asks pressing a wet kiss to each of your cheeks gently, a stark contrast to his hand on your hair.

“Please, Eddie. Please kiss me.” You beg, scrunching your brows almost a little desperately.

He smirks smugly but obliges, leaning down to kiss you and releasing the hold he has on your hair. You brush your tongue against his bottom lip and he lets you in, making your nails dig on his back and your legs spread open even wider so you can feel more of him.

His hand slips under your skirt and he grabs your ass, squeezing one of your butt cheeks hard. You whine underneath him, grinding your hips against his.

“Wanted you like this for so long.” He whispers when he breaks the kiss, rolling his hips to meet yours and finding you so hot and warm he can feel it through his jeans.

“Not longer than me.” You answer, wrapping your legs around his hips. “I’ve wanted to do this since you walked into the store.”

“Why do you think I walked in in the first place?” He murmurs against your lips, guiding your hips to meet his through layers of underwear and denim.

You feel infinitely more attracted to him at his admission and tug on his hair so you can kiss him again, again and again for what feels like hours, until you’re soaking through your underwear and his cock is rubbing a spectacularly good place around your clit.

He breaks the kiss to mouth on your neck, going lower until he’s reaching the neckline of your dress and sucking a mark bellow your collarbone.

“Thought so much about this,” you babble, your fingers sinking into his hair to keep his mouth on your cleavage, not really thinking about anything else but him. “Touched myself thinking about this.”

He immediately freezes on top of you and you regret your words as he pulls his mouth from your neck to see your face.

“Did you really?” He asks breathlessly.

“Yeah… is that- is that weird?” You ask self consciously and his hand shift from your ass to rub on your hip soothingly.

“Did you forget who you’re talking to? I’m the town freak,” he scoffs, squeezing your hip reassuringly. “That’s actually really fucking hot”

“You think so?” You ask, fiddling with his hair.

“Definitely” he nods rapidly, making his hair fly all over his face. You’re laughing quietly when he kisses you forcefully, but quickly. “Tell me.”

“Tell you what?”

“What did you think about when you touched yourself?”

“Eddieee-“ you whine, hiding your face in your hands.

“No, come on. Don’t hide from me.” He begs, pulling your hands away and holding them between his own.

“That’s embarrassing” you complain, playing with the rings still on his fingers.

“Why?” He shrugs. “I’ve done the same thing.”

You still, your brows raising in interest “you did?”

“Yeah,” he stammers, suddenly shy himself. “Is that weird?”

“No” you answer honestly, a hot star burning in your belly thinking about it. Thinking about him all alone in his room, getting hard and fisting his cock just at the mere thought of you, trying to keep quiet so his uncle can’t hear him. “What did you think about?”

“You,” he shrugs. You look at him curiously and he shrugs again. “What you’d sound like, what you’d look like if I got my hands on you… you know.”

“What else?”

“Why I am the only one baring my soul here?” He asks suddenly, his cheeks red and looking at you accusatorially.

“Sorry,” you say, scrunching your face in thought. “That’s not fair, is it?”

He shakes his head in no, “why don’t we make it a game? I tell you something and you tell me something?”

That sounds fair, you think to yourself. You do wanna know more, curiosity gnawing at your stomach to find out what he thought about you, if they’re the same things you did, if your fantasies match his.

“Fine” you agree, finally.

“So…” he teases, booping your nose playfully. “What did you think about?”

You look at him for a second, his bright brown eyes and flushed cheeks and his earnest expression. And you know in your heart Eddie would never betray you or shame you for whatever you’re about to say or do here in his room. Everything that happens in the private space between you is staying where it should be.

“Okay…” you begin, not sure where to start. “I thought about your fingers rubbing my clit, about how you’d feel with your head between my thighs.”

He looks like you’ve just told him Christmas came earlier, his hips unconsciously jerking against yours and the pressure of his grip on your hips increasing. You sigh and your hands climb up his arms to his back, rubbing your hands between his shoulder blades.

“Fuck, that’s so fucking hot” he splutters, his hips still moving slowly on top of yours and his hand digging, tightening his hold on your bare hips. “I thought about that too…how you’d like it, what you’d sound like. Thought about how you’d look with my cock in your mouth, with my cum on your tits.”

“I bet you looked so fucking good jerking off”

He suddenly leans down to kiss you again, all tongue and teeth, his hips still driving against yours. He roughly pulls away when you’re both breathless and you’re almost feeling dazed.

“Why don’t you show me what you look like when you touch yourself, pretty girl?” He murmurs, his lips still brushing against yours and tucking some loose hair behind your ear.

You nod avidly, wanting nothing but to relieve the pressure building in your lower stomach and to put on a show for him, show him what you could’ve been doing all this time if either of you had just made a move sooner. He leans away to be able to see all of you, his hands spreading your thighs when he kneels between them.

You slide your hand down your belly, lifting your dress up to your waist so your lower half is exposed. He watches avidly, following your fingers as you slip them under your underwear and find yourself wet and swollen, a moan leaving your lips at the feeling of finally being touched.

“The first time I touched myself thinking about you,” you begin, your previous shame turning into hot liquid licking down your spine at the way he’s looking at you right now. “Was after you told me you were in a band. You know what they say about guitarists, right? I kept thinking if that was true”

He exhales a laugh through his nose, pushing his hair away from his face. He squeezes your thigh meanly, like molding bread underneath his fingertips.

“You’ll find out” he promises.

“Can I take these off?” You complain, already pushing your underwear down your legs with his help and quickly getting rid of your dress too, baring yourself completely to him since you’re not wearing a bra. He casually throws your clothes over his shoulder, not caring where or how they land, his whole focus on you as he sprawls you open, forcing your thighs against his sheets so he can see your bare pussy, his hands spreading your legs so wide it almost aches.

You smear your wetness around your entrance to your clit and start rubbing it under your fingertips, slowly building a rhythm that leaves you breathless.

“Fuck, sweetheart. Such a pretty pussy, why’d keep it away from me for so long?”

He swiftly pulls his shirt over the back of his head, exposing miles of pale and inked skin. You barely have time admire him as he comes closer, so close you can feel his hard cock against the back of your hand over denim, one of his hands shifting up your thigh to brush his thumb over your ribs.

“Can I…?” He starts, looking intently at your breasts and you interrupt him.

“Yes, yes” you breathe out and increase the speed of your fingers over your clit, as he slides his hands up to experimentally brush his thumb over your nipple.

“Fuck, have been dying to get my hands on them” he admits, cupping the weight of your breast on his hands and then pinching your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. “Looked so pretty with those tank tops, almost couldn’t stop looking”

You mewl underneath him, the feeling of his body so close, his fingers pulling and twisting your nipples and the knowledge of what you’re doing to him making you climb to your peak faster than usual. He takes notice of the way your hips are moving in time with your hand and squeezes your nipple harder, leaning down until you’re face to face.

“You’re gonna cum, sweet thing? Come on, show me how pretty you look when you cum for me.”

Your free hand pulls him closer by the neck so you can kiss him, exhaling into his mouth as you furiously rub your clit. Nothing but thoughts of Eddie, Eddie, Eddie echoing through your mind. He guides you through your high, whispering sweet nothings against your mouth, pressing his lips to your cheeks, your nose, your forehead as his hips grinding against your thigh.

When you’re finally done, your fingers moving away from your clit because of the sensitivity and his arms thrown over you as he lays on the spot next you, watching you in awe like you just played the sickest guitar riff ever.

“I knew you incredible before,” he says, his fingers stroking the skin of your ribs, tracing the bone underneath. “But damn, sweetheart.”

“Shut up” you complain laughingly, turning on your side to see him. His face is bright red, like he just came back from a run and his hair’s incredibly messy, more than usual and his brown eyes are so, so bright and happy.

You can’t help but lean over to press a kiss to his lips, a lingering one that goes on for a long time. The previously put out embers in your belly lighting up a fire again. You’re starting to slip your hand down his body to cup his erection when he stops you. You pull away to look at him questioning until you notice how shifty he is, and you look at his crotch only to find a wet spot there.

“Did you just…?” You begin.

“Y-yeah… listen, sweetheart, I’m sorry-” you interrupt before he can continue apologizing, pressing a quick kiss to his lips.

“That’s so fucking hot.” you claim matter-of-factly, still suffocating him with quick kisses on his lips.

“There’s no way you think that, you don’t have to spare my feelings-“

“Excuse me? I think the fact you were so turned on over me touching myself you came in your pants so incredibly fucking hot, thank you very much” you climb over him, straddling his body in all your naked glory and his eyes can’t seem to be able to stop roaming your body, his eyes constantly shifting from your tits, to your belly, to your hips and to your mound.

“Okay, okay. If you think so, sweetheart” he says appeasingly, his hands coming up to rest on your hips. You lean down again until you’re face to face and you can kiss his lips wetly.

“When does your uncle get home again?” You ask between kisses.

“Around 7am… why?”

You pull away to see his face and you can’t contain the beaming smile taking over yours.

“How long until you can get going again?” You question, slowly moving your hips on top of him. He watches you eagerly.

“Not long,” he answer and you can feel the damp patch of denim underneath you getting wetter as you grind against him. You also can distinctly feel his cock twitching through his underwear. “With the way you’re all over me”

You throw your head back in laughter and he digs his fingers on your hips painfully.

“Then maybe you can show me what exactly you were thinking about when you jerked off… something about my mouth on your cock and your cum on my tits?”

“You’re fucking perfect” he states seriously, like you’re the best thing since sliced bread. He pulls you down until he’s hungrily kissing you, all tongue and teeth and way too wet, but you can’t really complain.

Turns out, he doesn’t really need that long to get hard again. Who would’ve thought?

#eddie x reader #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x y/n #eddie x you #stranger things x reader #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson imagine #mine

[bl00dsuccker]

beginning, middle, end - e-42!miles

100% based of the iconic A Different World wedding scene

if you haven’t watched it, what are you doing with your life??

posting another ver for e-1610!miles because i love both of my bookies 😚

warning: google translated spanish

got spiderverse themed divider from @//saradika

even though it’s not implied, this was written with a black!reader in place so take that as you will <3

this is the song the title is based off of, you don’t have to listen to it but i love it

what were you doing? why were you doing this ?

you’d bullshitted your way into a relationship that served more harm than it did good. it was just supposed to be a placeholder, it was supposed to make him jealous, make him come to his senses instead of the usual, you going to him. you wanted it differently, but when 1 month turned into 1 year and that turned into 3…you knew he wasn’t going to come to you. he didn’t care as much as you thought or maybe his ego

the walk down the aisle was heart wrenching, and agonizingly slow. the big dress you wore felt like one hundred bricks and the eyes of everyone on you in the altar made it all the more worse. you had to force yourself to control your breathing as you neared your groom.

you want this. you want this. you want this.

you do not want this.

you want something completely different. you want someone completely different.

“you look beautiful, my love.” your groom said as he smiled. the name sounded so much different in english.

you gave him a small smile, not wanting to use your voice.

the preacher went on and on, the usual stuff about weddings and holy matrimony, but all you could think about was the man that you were not marrying, the man who had too much pride to right his wrongs, the man who gave you a goddamn headache, the man you wanted to just strangle until he got his sense returned to him, the man whose smile was very rare to see but when you did see it, you wanted to cherish it forever.

goddamnit, you weren’t supposed to be thinking about him at your own wedding! you weren’t supposed to be thinking about any man at your wedding.

“i do.” your groom answered the preacher.

shiiiit.

the preacher turned to you and began to talk about sickness and in health for richer for poor the who spiel and all you could hear was your beating heart and then silence, complete silence. no preacher talking, no talking of the vows, just eerie silence.

“baby?” the groom asked as he looked at his fiancée.

you snapped out of your trance to look at him, “hm?” you asked.

“are you okay?” he muttered.

no, you weren’t okay, but how could you tell your groom that? what could you even blame it on? cold feet? wedding day jitters? miles? no. you couldn’t blame it on anything. anything but being in love with someone other than your fiancée.

the more you went on being silent, the congregation started to murmur amongst themselves. whispers of ‘will she, won’t she’ and many other murmurs that were driving you crazy.

“what’s going on?”

“yeah!”

“are you gonna marry the guy or what?!”

the voices made you more anxious, the thought of speaking right now sent shockwaves through your body and you felt your mind start to race—

“will you, ma?”

a voice louder than the rest spoke out. the voice you’d been waiting to hear for 3 years, the voice you’d heard in your dreams, the voice you had reminisced about, daydreamed about. you turned around to make sure you weren’t dreaming him, and thank god you weren’t.

even at a wedding, he still donned his limited edition jordan’s he never looked finer in a suit and tie.

“te amo, hermosa y si me tienes, quiero que seas mi esposa. sé que no estuve allí, lo siento por no venir, antes era demasiado orgullosa pero no puedo vivir sin ti, hermosa, estaré mejor—” (i love you, beautiful and if you'll have me, i want you to be my wife. i know i wasn't there, i'm sorry for not coming around, i was too prideful before but i can't live without you, hermosa, i'll be better—)

“what is he even saying? get him out of here!” your groom yelled as a bunch of his groomsmen went to go grab miles.

“i’m telling her she don’t need to be with your ugly ass—get the hell off me!” miles yelled out and a slur or curses in spanish. you were so far in your mind that you hadn’t noticed miles’ uncle, aaron, getting up to defend his nephew.

miles had yelled your name as they all pushed him backwards, towards the door.

“will you have me, miles, as your lawfully wedded husband from this day forth? to have and to hold in richer for poorer? baby please, please!”

“i do!” you blurted out, not even needing time to think about your answer. the whole congregation gasped.

“what?” your groom looked at you, wide eyes. he tugged your arm so that you’d focus on him instead of miles who was no longer being pushed toward the door but instead he was breathing heavy and staring at you while the men that had tried to drag him out had stopped to look at you, all eyes were on you and this time, and it didn’t feel anxiety inducing.

“she said ‘i do’!” someone from the congregation yelled.

“but who the hell to?” someone else replied

“i…i’m sorry. i can’t marry you.” the emphasis on ‘you’ should have told him everything you need to know. you looked back at miles and tugged your arm away from your wilted groom.

miles had tugged himself away from the groomsmen & stared at you. you practically ran to him as you wrapped your arms around his neck and locked your lips together. he’d wrapped his arms around your waist, lifting you up and turning you around.

to your surprise, most of the congregation applauded in celebration while the others left with the groom.

“well, is someone getting married or what?!” the preacher questioned.

“we are.” miles responded back as pulled away from you and set you down, grabbing your hand & making your way to the altar.

“by the power vested in me i now pronounce you man and wife you—“ miles had already leaned you over to kiss you before the preacher could finish his sentence. “—may now kiss the bride.” the preacher finished quickly. everyone clapped and cheered, you could see the cameras flash behind your closed eyes.

now this is what you wanted.

miles pulled you back up & looked at you with such love and affection.

“mi esposa.” he said to you before picking you up bridal style, causing you to giggle, and taking off down the altar.

this is definitely what you wanted.

©️ 2023 BL00DSUCCKER

#earth 42 miles #miles morales #e-42!miles #spiderman #across the spiderverse #miles morales x reader #a different world wedding scene #atsv miles #miles morales x you #prowler miles #prowler miles x reader #bl00dsuccker

[deathbecomesthem]

Cat and Mouse | 1.8K

Eddie Munson x Preacher's Daughter!Reader

*This was a fic I wrote ages ago, and left orphaned. It was a Wheeler!Reader fic. I'm going to consider rewriting it as a more vague reader for inclusivity.

Warnings: Some suggestive language and ideas. Future chapters, if I continue this story, have lots of disturbing ideas about religious subjugation of women and girls.

Cat meets mouse when you see him. All rough edges and open hostility, but you see through it to his soft and sticky center. He is a treat that you want to bite into. A feast for your eyes. You know how to do this thing. How to make him weak in the knees with only a soft blink and tilt of your pretty neck. You brush a finger down, down to your collarbone, as if to brush away a stray hair, showing him where you want his lips to wander. This one will be easy; you think as you watch his glassy eyes follow your fingers.

This game is more than fun for you. It is necessary. It is life giving. It affirms your value in the world. To have a man at your mercy is powerful; you crave it just as you crave the feeling of flesh on flesh. Mouth on neck. Cock in hand. Fingers in your heat with pleasure vibrating down your spine to the tips of your fingers and toes. You know how to please yourself, of course, but to make a man come undone before you is bliss.

                                                                                   **                                                                       

“Who is that?” Eddie can’t take his eyes from you, head leaned close to Steve’s ear so no one could overhear. He knows what you’re doing, it’s so obvious. In his mind, you might as well take your top off and throw your bra in his face.

“That is Nancy’s cousin. She’s hot, right? She’s also the sweetest person I’ve ever met. The kids love her.” Eddie blinks and tries to see it, any possible resemblance to Nancy or Mike. He can’t make it happen. He tries to think of this girl, this succubus, as a sweetheart that everyone loves. Can Steve not see that you’re playing with him?

“Uh, Steve, are you getting any vibes coming this way from her?” Steve cranes his neck to look back at Eddie in bewilderment. Apparently not is the thought that passes Eddie’s brain before Steve can form the words to reply.

“Uh, no man. No vibes.” His concern turns into frustration after he notices the hunger Eddie has in his eyes while he looks at you. “Listen, don’t. She’s an absolute saintl. Her dad is a minister, she teaches Sunday school for god’s sake. Just don’t even think about it.” With that, Steve heads across the room to pull you away from Nancy and lead you, protectively, outside to sit by the pool with Dustin and Will.

                                                                                   **

Angel my ass. Eddie is the most perceptive person in the party. Sure, he has an impossibly hard time understanding certain social niceties, but he can read body language. He picks up on miniscule facial expressions that give away what a person is really thinking when they’re saying they’re fine, it’s all good, how about that weather, did you catch the sportsball game last night. He knows he’s not wrong about this. Steve, on the other hand, could be as dumb as a rock when it came to those subtleties.

Eddie sidles up next to Nancy and Robin as smoothly as possible, hoping to steer the conversation with delicacy. “Hey, beautiful ladies, how are we doing this gorgeous summer afternoon?” His giant grin is met with dramatic eye rolls from both girls. Delicacy failed.

“Laying it on pretty thick today, Munson.” Nancy wraps her arm around Eddie’s midsection in a gentle squeeze while Robin moves on to join Will and El in the next room. Nancy and Eddie had become thick as thieves in recent months to the absolute bafflement of the rest of the group. Opposites on the surface, yes, but just below the two were kindred spirits. Neither were likely to miss a trick.

“So, I see we have a guest in our midst today.” His eyebrows are raised with his signature grin still plastered on his goofy face. Nancy huffs a laugh and nods, knowingly.

“I see. Yes, she's my cousin. Kinda sorta. Her dad and my mom grew up together in the same church, closer than family. She’s truly, my best friend in the world.” Her eyebrows are quirked back to mirror his and a pinch of warning between. “Were you hoping to join the Bible study she leads on Friday nights?”

His sniggers are what finally breaks Nancy’s serious demeanor. A friendly smack lands on his shoulder. “Listen, Stevie tells me she’s a little innocent angel, but I swear the look she was giving me… It’s like she was eye fu-“ Nancy’s hands are in Eddie’s face to shut him up.

“Nope, don’t tell me.” The annoyed look on Nancy’s face makes Eddie’s guilt rear up. This was not something he should be talking to her about; he’s realized far too late. “Here is what I’ll tell you. Only this, and you never say anything like that to me ever again.” Her finger is pointed directly at Eddie’s nose and there is a flash of warning in her eyes. Eddie nods in assent and waves his hand for her to continue.

“She is the kindest person I know. Generous to a fault. She’s great with kids.” Eddie’s eyes are rolling. Steve has already said all of this to him. “Steve is clueless, like pretty much everyone else. Her parents are super strict, as you can imagine. But, no, she’s not as pristine as they think.”

Nancy can see Eddie gearing up for another question, and Nancy’s hands fly to her ears. “Nope, no more. Figure it out on your own. She’s just a girl, talk to her.” Nancy makes her way to the patio doors and turns back with one last piece of advice, “For gods sake, don’t listen to Steve about anything related to girls. He’s a hammer looking for any nail to pound and doesn’t understand nuance.”

She leaves Eddie giggling to himself and feeling at least a little relieved that he wasn’t imagining things. That angel had clocked him as soon as he walked in the door. The game seemed like it might be fun. And, also, a really stupid thing for him to try to play.

                                                                                   **

The sun reflected off the pool so brightly, you could feel your skin beginning to burn. The first to succumb to the heat were El and Robin with the younger boys following shortly behind. Sweaty clothes are in piles around the pool, everyone seemed to have the same idea to wear their bathing suits to Steve’s. You and Nancy packed suits in a backpack that sat inside the house. A drip of sweat started moving down your nose, and you relented.

“Nance, I’m going to get changed. I can’t sit out here like this anymore.” You leave Steve and Nancy to whatever petty argument they were having at the moment. It isn’t until you’re opening the door to the kitchen that you realize you haven’t seen that hot guy, Eddie, since Steve had whisked you away from your flirtation earlier. That won’t do.

Rounding the corner to the front of the house, you smell it. Naughty boy, you think as you spot him sneaking in the front door. As if a deer in headlights, he freezes, and relaxes when he realizes it’s not one of the younger kids, but you.

“Well, hello there. We haven’t met yet, have we?” Eddie’s eyes are twinkling at you. Pretty man, you think. He pushes himself away from the side of the house, and he starts to move towards you. He’s stalking, that’s the word, stalking, his way into your space as he gives a dramatic bow. On his way back up, he is slowly taking in your form, with no attempt to hide what he’s doing.

You offer your name and your hand and are greeted with a gentle kiss along your knuckles. Oh, this was going to be fun. “I’ve heard so much about you.” Your eyes have gone big, and you flutter your lashes, “Although, I guess most of it can’t be true or Aunt Karen would never let her kids near you.”

The Cheshire Cat had nothing on the grin Eddie was giving you. “Oh, I don’t know, maybe I’ve got her fooled.” Up close, this boy was beautiful. His eyes are chestnut pools rimmed red from the pot smoke that still clings to his skin. The wrinkles at the edges of his smile speak to you about his humor.

“I doubt that very much.” You’re slinking past him on your toes, face turned up towards his own. Your backpack is behind him. With a hand on his arm, you bend down, allowing your Eddie an excellent view of your posterior. “There it is. Are you going to swim with us, Eddie?”

“Uh,” Eddie clears his throat, “I didn’t bring a suit. I’m not much of a swimmer.” There is a slight flush starting at the apple of his cheeks while you stare him down with your doe eyes. You give him an exaggerated frown.

“Oh, Eddie, how sad.” Sitting on the couch, you rustle through the bag to find your suit. *zip* not in that pocket, *zip* not there either, one last *zip* with no luck and you turn your gaze back on the curly haired boy that’s still watching your every movement. “I must have forgotten my suit.” With a big sigh, you add, “If only someone would be willing to run me back to Aunt Karen’s house to get it.”

“Hmm, that’s too bad. Maybe you should go ask Nancy to take you back.” Eddie’s head is tilted at you with a little pout. There was no way he didn’t know what you were doing, but he wasn’t biting. Fine, be that way.

“I don’t want to ruin her fun; her suit is right here.” You hold up her pink suit to emphasize your point. “You’re not planning on swimming; would you be willing to give me a ride?” Eddie can barely contain himself with the looks you’re throwing his way, but this was not a game he would give in to that easily.

“Oh, I don’t know, Angel, I bet your Daddy wouldn’t be too thrilled to hear about you taking a ride with me. Maybe you should just hang out with me in the loungers and while the others swim.” You’re considering your next move, thinking about making him take the bait. You can see how close he is to relenting when the back door swings open with a dramatic clang.

With a scowl on her face, Nancy approaches you with a hand outstretched. “There you are. I was looking for my suit. It’s hotter than hell out there.” She rummages through the bag, pulling out a black and white polka suit in triumph. “Come on, let’s get changed.” She says, nodding in the direction of your pink suit.

A chuckle from Eddie rang through the room, “Cute suit, Angel. Can’t wait to see you in it.” With a wink, he’s heading through the house while your cheeks burn.

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #stranger things

[a-case-of-attachment]

Lucifer Morningstar / reader

Warnings: religious references, alcohol, stupid drunk decisions, hallucinations?, slight horror elements, questionable friends, no use of y/n, also don't sell your soul kids!

A/N: this is just a one shot, at least its supposed to be. I just liked the idea and it wouldn't leave me alone so here you go! Have my weird little story gremlin

It’s a relatively normal night when you sell your soul to the devil. Or at least it had started out that way. Admittedly it had been an accident and a drunken one at that. You hadn’t really expected anything to come from your friends stupid dare but it seemed the old and tatted book she had found in the back of a junk store had been the real deal and you were the one now paying the price for her curiosity. Quite literally it would seem. 

On the last Friday of every month your normally quiet and relaxing apartment suddenly became the place to be, the small space crammed full of people and so noisy you could barely hear yourself think. Well, crammed might have been a slight exaggeration. There were six of you in total, somehow managing to fit on your small couch and armchair and not feeling like there wasn’t any room to move. Though there was only six of you they were loud though, their voices getting louder with every new bottle of wine that was opened and leaving you convinced this would be the one where Mrs Crouch from downstairs finally logged a noise complaint with the police like she was always threatening to do. You couldn’t really bring yourself to care too much about old Mrs Crouch from 3B though, four glasses in and having too much of a good time for it to be an issue. 

It was somewhere after the XXXL pizza had been demolished and the fourth bottle of wine had been opened that a game of truth and dare had been suddenly suggested. It had been meet with a mix of groans and cheers, you very much not wanting to take part after the last time it had been suggested. You had gotten so drunk that you could hardly remember what had happened that night and as a result had spent most of the next day hugging the toilet and feeling sorry for yourself. You were just tipsy enough that it hadn’t taken much to convince you to play the childish game and soon enough the empty wine bottle had been set on the middle of the table and spinning towards its first victim. 

It had all been standard stuff to start with, like run to the end of the hall and back naked, who did you actually make out with at your work’s Christmas party and down the pickle juice out of the jar. Childish and innocent enough that had all of you laughing and your neighbours shouting at you to “shut the hell up!” Well, it had been until it had gotten to your turn and then tings suddenly took a turn for the weird. 

You weren’t religious, hadn’t been since your dad had run off either his secretary when you were a teenager. You had been though, and your mother still was, often calling up on a Sunday afternoon to complain that you had gone yet another week without going to church and that you were opening yourself up to the devil’s influence, starting with “those so called friends of yours. Mark my words their satanists, the lot of them and your letting them corrupt your soul. If you don’t repent soon, you’re going to end up in hell. Is that what you want, eternal damnation and suffering?” It reminded you of your childhood, listening to your local preacher damning all of humanity at bible study and the church run groups you had been forced to attend. 

Your friends knew about you strict bible filled upbringing and it was often a point of their teasing so it shouldn’t have surprised you that when you picked dare they had managed to include it somehow though you would never have expected it to go the way it had. You had out right laughed when they had dared you to sell your soul to the devil, mockingly saying “oh please Mr Devil Sir, take my soul in exchange for another bottle of wine,” to a chorus of laughs from the rest of your friends and loud agreement as you clinked your mostly empty glasses together. It hadn’t stayed funny for long though, especially not when an old and tattered book had been pulled out from a long forgotten bag, the thing smelling musty and slightly like rotten eggs with an aura about it that had the hairs on the back of your neck standing up and goosebumps covering your arms. 

No, you weren’t religious, but you did find the whole thing weird as the ritual was explained to you, your friends seeming uncomfortably eggar and already having some of the odder things the ritual called for. It seemed to much like it had been planned, no one questioning it as animal bones and weird herbs you had never heard of were pulled out of the same bag as the book like it was normal to carry them around. It left you feeling nervous, like you were breaking some sort of taboo that never should have been spoken about let alone acted upon. It hadn’t bothered anyone else as much as it had you, but you supposed that was the whole point of them giving it to you as a dare. It was just a bit of fun for them, a chance to make fun you because you used to go to church every Sunday and were still a little reluctant to take the lords name in vain.

You had said no to start with, instead opting for the forfeit because having to take a shot of the weird sludgy grey concoction you had all had a hand in making seemed better than messing around with the occult. The problem was that you had always been a bit naive, your upbringing leaving you isolated and lacking the knowledge that others your age had from just every day life. You had always felt like you were at a disadvantage and as a result you were eager to fit in, not wanting to seem like a prude or killjoy. The alcohol didn’t help, lowering your inhibitions and it hadn’t taken much teasing and cajoling from your friends to change your mind, snatching up the book and demanding to know what you needed to do whilst trying to keep your hands from shaking. 

It had taken all of ten minutes to get everything set up, your poor wooden floor now supporting a pentagram with a weird array of symbols drawn in sharpie around it and every candle you owned now placed at every point of the pentagram. You had just a handful of seconds to worry about what your land lord would say if you couldn’t get the pen off the floor before your attention was drawn elsewhere, the clatter of someone rummaging through your kitchen cupboards to worrisome to ignore. 

When everything was in place, and everyone sat around the drawn circle the nerves had come back tenfold. It must have been obvious how reluctant you were as the mix of herbs and various animal bones were thrown into one of your pasta bowls, along with a couple of odd looking things that you had no clue what they actually were. No one seemed to notice though, your friends laughing and joking as they passed around another bottle of wine. You had declined a glass when offered, suddenly feeling sick. Your mother’s words chose that moment to come back to you, her sharp angry insistence that your friends were damning you to Hell apparently now a fact. She was going to be so angry if she ever found out you messed around with this stuff, even as a joke.

Only one of your friends had seemed to notice your sudden queasy state, sitting down next to you on the floor and reassuring you that it was “all a bit of fun, yeah? It’s not like any of this stuff is actually real. Trust me, the only thing that’s going to happen is a whole bunch of nothing.” That had gone some way to easing your worry. Not that you believe in that sort of stuff because let’s be real, angels? Demons? A fiery pit of damnation or an eternal paradise of peace and happiness? It was all just made-up nonsense to scare people into doing the ‘right thing’ whatever that was and it was way more likely you were just a jumbled mess of atoms and electrons that returned to the either when all was said and done. Right?

Slight religious panic aside it took all of five minutes before you were butchering your way through several verses of Latin, your hands trembling slightly as you tried to keep your voice from doing the same. The pin came next, a simple pricking of your finger and a few drops of blood squeezed out, falling into the bowl that had been placed in the middle of the circle. You can’t help but be slightly fascinated by it, swearing you can hear each drop splashing as it hit the strange assortment of things already in there. A ridiculous notion but you would aware it to be true, each little drop followed by a gentle sizzle like it was hit red hot coals instead of bone and dried herbs. 

Soon enough all that was left was for you to decide what it was you were going to ask for in exchange for your soul. It wasn’t real, you knew that, but you still hesitated, your pen hovering over the scrap bit of paper you were supposed to write it down on. Your friends had their own ideas, telling you to ask for a box or skittles or for the cutie from your local grocery store to ask you out on a date. They even suggested asking for money, enough that you would never have to worry about the cost of anything ever again. It was all frivolous things, nothing of any real value and even though it was just a game your couldn’t bring yourself to write down any of it, knowing a souls worth was more than a few material possessions. Instead, you had written something down that seemed impossible to you, something the devil would surely turn down if he was real. It was just as stupid and childish as the other’s suggestions but that hadn’t stopped you from writing down ‘to be happy’ before folding it up and setting the paper alight before anyone else could read it. 

The burning paper had set whatever else was inside the bowl aflame, a dense white smoke curling up from the pot and smelling a lot like those new age shops that burnt incense like it was going out of fashion. The room fell silent, everyone watching the pot and seemingly holding their breath as they waited for something to happen. The flames of the candles flickered, like a gentle breeze had blown across the room and then…nothing. Nothing happened. Nothing changed and whatever weird spell that had fallen over the room broke, a couple of people bursting out into laughter about how serious everyone had been, already getting up and going after another bottle of wine whilst they teased one another. Not you though, you stay where you were, back straight and eyes wide as your heart thundered away in your chest. 

Had it been nothing though? You could have sworn that as the candles had flickered you had felt a presence at your back, large and ominous as it pressed up against you. Like it intended to devour you whole. Something that had felt suspiciously like fingers had wrapped around your neck and wrists, long and burning hot like coals as their grip grew impossibly tight, your breath catching as your body stilled in fear. And then came the voice, carried on the strange breeze that had blown through your home and somehow sounding both light and musical yet somehow solemn as it had whispered “deal” into your ear, it’s hot breath causing shivers to run down your spine. It had only been a second, a fleeting moment but it left you shaken, the feeling like you had made a grave mistake washing over you. It wasn’t real, you knew it wasn’t. Heaven and Hell, angels and demons, they didn’t exist. It was just a mix of your upbringing and over active imagination playing tricks on you. It had all been in your head, no one else seemingly noticing anything. You were just being silly, that’s all it was. 

It didn’t take long after your little make believe ritual for the others to leave, all of them suddenly tired or having plans in the morning. You didn’t really care, for once glad that they were leaving earlier than planned so you could get yourself to bed and forget this night had ever existed. No one offered to help tidy up, but they never did, almost always just leaving everything where it was. Maybe if you were lucky a glass or two would make it into the kitchen but you didn’t hold out much hope. 

Once alone though that uneasy feeling started to creep up on you again and despite your best efforts you found yourself staring down at the pentagram like you expected a portal to open up and some demonic beast to pop up and drag you kicking and screaming down to Hell. The room seemed to get hotter, a weight settling around your neck and wrists, almost like you wearing a choker and bangles made of metal. The lights began to flicker, one after the other as the room filled with the crackle of electricity. Suddenly all the shadows seemed darker, more sinister, like they were crawling up the walls and spreading across the floor to get to you, their inky black tendrils looking far to much like claw tipped finger as they reach out for you. Your heart rate picked up, back pressed firmly against the door as your hand blindly searched for the handle. “Not real, not real, not real,” you chanted to yourself, eyes squeezing shut as your fingers brushed against the lock. 

The loud slam of a door had your eyes flying open, a startled panic filled cry falling from your lips as you stumbled backwards, the door handle digging painfully into your back. Your fear filled mind struggled to keep up with what you were seeing or in this case the lack of what you could see. The room beyond looked just like normal, no creeping shadows or ominous presences to be found, the lights on and filling the space with a warm and inviting glow. Of course there was nothing there. It wasn’t real, none of it was. You just needed to sleep off the worst of the hangover you were most likely going to have and move on with your life. Chalk all this up to Catholic guilt and be done e with it. 

Feeling embarrassed and stupid you pushed away from the door and started the arduous task of clearing away the mess that had been left strewn around your apartment, knowing that you wouldn’t have time to do it in the morning despite how badly you just wanted to forget it and collapse into bed. You avoided the satanic mess on your floor though, the heavy feeling around your neck and wrists getting worse the closer to it you got. That you wouldn’t leave till the next day when you would be better equipped mentally for trying to get the sharpie off the floor. If it would come off that is. If not, you would have no choice but to spend the last of your spare money on a rug to cover it up and hope your landlord didn’t want to look under it on your next inspection. 

Feeling drained you finally started on your normal nightly routine. Though you checked the windows and doors were locked twice tonight, your paranoia getting the best of you. You would normally leave your bedroom door open as well but tonight you closed it, not wanting to see the shadows that lurked beyond. Slipping under the covers had felt like sweet relief, whatever fear and worry you had been carrying around all evening vanishing as you snuggled down into your pillows. It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep, the late hour and alcohol you had consumed finally taking its toll on you. 

Somewhen in the early hours of the morning though the quiet and stillness of your home ended. The small bowl still in the middle of the pentagram began to smoke again, the candles that remained half melted at the points relighting all on their own. The red flames flickered and danced, casting long shadows that shifted and pulled together creating the silhouette of a man, with a cane and top hat. Silently the shadow moved through your apartment, your bedroom door silently opening with just a wave of its cane. You were so deeply asleep that you didn’t even stir as your bed dipped slightly under a new weight. You sighed softly as a clawed back hand gently brushed across your cheek, its sharp thumb nail dangerously close to your closed eye. The hand trailed down, nails not even pressing hard enough to leave behind so much as a red mark. They stilled at your neck, thumb brushing against the hollow of your neck. There came a glimmer of gold, a large decorative collar appearing around your neck, decorated with snakes and a large red apple at the front, a matching golden chain hanging from a loop at the front and leading straight into the shadows hand. 

From within the shadow came the same disembodied voice from before, soft and slightly forlorn as it whispered “happiness huh? I hope that’s possible, for both our sakes.” Unaware of what lurked over you, you slept on peacefully, blissfully ignorant of the fact that you had been wrong and now, because of a stupid drunken game you were bound for all eternity to the Devil himself, no longer the one in possession of your soul. 

#hazbin hotel #hazbin lucifer #lucifer magne #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel lucifer #reader insert #lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #lucifer x reader #lucifer x you #hazbin lucifer x reader

[peachy-posy]

Ride This Out - Vash x Reader (Chapter 1)

Summary: After putting yourself in a dangerous situation, you and Vash have one of your first major arguments.

A/N: Third Trigun fic, woohoo! This was my first time writing something with the 98 versions of characters specifically in mind, so I hope everything feels in character! I tried my best hehe Last chapter will have smut (my first time writing any hhhh), minors DNI!!! Cross-posted to my AO3 <3

Chapter Tags: Established relationship, canon-typical violence, minor violence/injuries, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 3.1k

Traveling with only men is decidedly… not very fun, in your opinion. At least not the ones you're with. You lean your head in your hands, listening vaguely as Vash and Wolfwood argue between themselves in their good-natured, but annoying way. You tuned them out about half an hour ago when the conversation started heading in that argumentative direction. 

You miss Milly and Meryl. When the boys start debating and arguing, the three of you have your own conversation, laughing and joking with each other. The insurance girls had been sent to a neighboring town several days ago, promising to meet back up with you three in a week or so. That day could not come sooner. 

Your eyes, which have been glazed over for some time now, focus as Wolfwood huffs, leaning back in his chair. Vash does the same, but you don’t feel any real malice between them as usual. Seems like they are finally done. 

You glance over at the blonde, feeling his turquoise eyes on you.

“Everything okay, Mayfly?” He questions with a smile, reaching across the table to take your hand. 

You smile, even as Wolfwood groans something to the effect of ‘Oh, here we go.’

“Yeah, everything’s fine. I was just thinking about Meryl and Milly,” you answer, prompting a bright smile from Vash at the mention of the two girls. 

“Aw, what, we aren’t fun enough for ya, sweetheart?” Wolfwood asks, his tone teasing. 

You glance at him tiredly. “Unfortunately not. Sorry.” 

He feigns hurt, over-exaggerating his reaction. “You wound me!” Vash chuckles to your side, and you share an amused smile with him. This ramps up the theatrics from the preacher, and he looks at Vash. “How can you lie down and take this? You’re included in that statement, you know.” 

Vash shrugs, rubbing his thumb across your knuckles. Your heart flutters at the action. 

“Oh, please. Get a room,” Wolfwood remarks. You can’t help but snort, even as Vash puffs up. 

As he begins to reply, gunshots echo from somewhere outside: perhaps near the town square. You jump, slightly surprised, and Vash’s hold on your hand tightens as he hears shouting from outside. 

You know what comes next. 

Wolfwood grabs his Punisher, stretching casually as he stands. Vash stands as well, walking over to you briskly, kneeling at your side. He takes you by your shoulders, locking eyes with you, and calls your name.

“You’ll be okay on your own for a bit, right? Don’t come out unless one of us comes for you.” 

“I know the drill, Vash. Be careful,” you reassure, giving him a quick kiss for good luck. He smiles against your lips, able to get lost in the moment, but only for... well, a moment. More gunshots and screams ring out, and he stands up with renewed urgency, meeting Wolfwood at the entrance with long strides. 

Vash glances at you one last time before exiting. You blink and the two are gone, leaving you behind in the old tavern. The few patrons that were there as well had gone to investigate the commotion, leaving you alone. 

You sigh, unwanted frustration with your situation bubbling up in your chest. Unfortunately, it’s like this all the time. After all, you aren’t some incredible, talented gunslinger. You’re just a healer in love with one. 

You slowly stand up, leaving the table you three had been occupying, scrutinizing the room for a good place to hide. After a few minutes, you find yourself a nice little spot behind the bar. It’s not necessarily perfect, but it’ll do. 

You lower yourself to the floor, preparing yourself for the waiting game. You wonder how long it’ll take for them to come back today. Fifteen minutes? Thirty? An hour? 

You hear more gunfire and shouting in the distance, and you try your best to ignore it for now, despite the uneasiness settling in your chest. There’s nothing you can do for anyone until the danger is over. You know that this general course of action is what is safest for you. You hide yourself away, waiting for the ‘all clear,’ then tend to any and all wounded people who happen to get caught up in whatever happens, a reassuring smile plastered on your face all the while. This is how you do your part in the small group you’ve found yourself in. 

It also allows Vash to not be worried about your safety while actively dodging bullets. 

You’d worked in a small clinic before meeting the Humanoid Typhoon what feels like ages ago. Your role as a doctor’s assistant made you happy at the time; it made you feel fulfilled and helpful. And it still does! 

That said, you sometimes find yourself wishing that you could protect others the way Vash and Wolfwood can. Not that you want to throw yourself into the fray of battle, but you hate feeling so… useless at times like this when the fighting first breaks out. Weak. Like something that needs to be tucked away and protected. 

Vash adores that you are a healer. He’ll sometimes sit with you on quiet nights, his fingers rubbing affectionate circles into your hands while he holds them, saying that your hands were made for saving people. You tell him that his hands were too, but he denies it every single time. He says his hands were made for violence. For destruction. 

You couldn’t disagree more. 

Not when you see all of the good he does, protecting those around him with the very hands he swears will bring destruction to everything they touch. 

You are startled out of your thoughts by the sound of a bullet ricocheting particularly close by. You hold your breath, trying to gauge how far away the person who fired it is. You can hear voices in the distance that sound closer than wherever the main incident is. You bite your lip, considering if you are hidden well enough. Slowly, you begin to notice the sounds of… crying? 

You know Vash doesn’t want you to put yourself in harm’s way, but what exactly would looking through a window do? Besides, the crying sounds too much like a child for your comfort. 

You rise slowly from behind the bar, finding your resolve to investigate. Making your way over to a nearby window on light feet, you carefully peek outside. At first, there is nothing that you can see. Suddenly, though, a small child running down the street comes into view. He’s crying, dust coating his hands and knees. He’s bleeding from a few small cuts that you can see from your current view of him, but otherwise seems physically unharmed. 

You gasp as the boy trips, tumbling hard into the dusty ground. He sucks in a sharp breath, bottom lip wobbling. In the blink of an eye, four men concealing their faces with bandanas are upon the boy, one of them grabbing him roughly. 

The child shrieks, thrashing in the man’s hold. To your horror, another one of the men points a gun at him. He can’t be more than five years old. The sight of it makes you nauseated. 

“You’re gonna regret running, you damn brat,” one of the men rasps angrily at the sobbing child. 

“Bring him back to where the other townspeople are. Make sure you don’t lose any this time,” one of the other men orders. 

“G-got it,” one of them replies nervously. 

“If it happens again, it’s your head.” 

It seems like this gang took some hostages when they got here, and this boy escaped. You can’t let them take him back. They don’t seem to have any issue shooting him, as you heard that gunshot earlier as they chased him. Your hands are trembling and clammy, but you know you have to do something. 

But with what? You don’t have a weapon. You desperately look around the tavern, and your eyes land on a knife and empty bottles. Acting quickly, you grab one of each, a messy and dangerous plan forming as you go. 

All you have working for you is the element of surprise. You can’t fight, but you know where to hit someone to make it count due to your medical training. You just hope you’re fast enough. 

You look outside once more, and you notice that two of the men are gone. The other two that remain are talking to one another for the time being, distracted. One holds the child in a punishing grip, surely causing bruises to form on his small wrist. He's wailing in earnest, despite the captors' barking at him to quit. 

It’s now or never. You open the door as quietly as you can manage, gripping the bottle. You’ll have to hit one of the men as hard as you can in the head with the bottle, then use the knife you’d pocketed to strike the other. Your plan is to slash the ligaments behind the knee, immobilizing the person. The bottle isn’t very ideal, but you’re worried your lack of skill with a knife will cause you to accidentally lose the weapon in a body if you try to use it for both men. 

Unfortunately, you know your plan has little chance of success. Once you attack one, the other knows you’re there. Your best bet is to incapacitate the one holding the child first and to assess in the moment if you can deal with the other. There is a large chance you’ll just have to grab the kid and run as fast as you can, hoping you find Vash or Wolfwood if you make it to the town square. You look down at the threshold of the tavern, trying to will your legs to move forward. Your body is frozen, unable to walk outside. 

Suddenly, one of the men turns on his heels, striding back down the street where they originally came from. That gets you moving. 

You hide yourself behind the door hastily, praying you haven’t been spotted. Several terrifying moments pass where you wait for them to descend upon you. You can hear your heartbeat thrumming in your head, throbbing in anticipation of the worst. 

The attack never comes. They haven’t seen you.

You can’t believe your stroke of luck. You may actually be able to pull off incapacitating a single person, even with your limited capabilities in combat. 

You carefully set the bottle on the ground, reaching for the knife you grabbed. You peek around the door, eyes finding the man and boy immediately. The man is yanking the child, trying to get him to cooperate. His back is towards the tavern. 

You grip the kitchen knife firmly, trying to control your shaking hands as you emerge from behind the door. You approach as swiftly and quietly as you can, soon finding yourself within striking distance of your target. 

Just slash the back of his knee. He shouldn’t be able to chase you if you tear a ligament. 

Steeling yourself, you aim for the back of the man’s knee, slashing with as much force as you can muster. 

You know you succeeded when he howls in pain, immediately letting go of the child and grabbing his knee, falling to the sandy, dusty street. He is bleeding, gripping his knee tightly, and he turns to look at you with a shocked glare, his eyes filled with malice. 

You drop the knife in shock, your bloody hands making you nauseous. 

Time to go! 

The child is pale, shaking like a leaf as you scoop him into your arms. The man shouts from the ground, and you see him start fumbling around, looking for something. 

“Get back here! You bitch!” 

You turn on your heels, sprinting as fast as your legs can go. You hear a deafening gunshot, flinching as a bullet hits the dirt nearby. You realize that he had been trying to get his gun, and unfortunately for you, he found it.

He shoots again, but you have already begun weaving as you run, hoping to throw his aim off. The child is clutching onto you fiercely, burying his head into your shoulder. More bullets hit the ground around you, and your heart is hammering wildly in your chest. As you turn the nearest street corner, you find yourself shocked and relieved your plan is working. You just might actually be able to save this child. 

Your thoughts come to an abrupt, violent halt when you notice a dark blur in your periphery. A man slams his gun into your head with a snarl, and you are thrown towards the ground. On your way down, you attempt to shield the boy as best you can, wrapping your arms around him tightly and trying to absorb the shock of slamming into the ground. The breath is knocked from your lungs as you collide into the street with a groan of pain. Your head is swimming, but you unwrap your arms, trying to sit up as quickly as possible and get the boy to his feet. He seems relatively unharmed, but terribly shaken up. 

“Run! Now!” You scream, and he thankfully listens. 

He darts off, right as the man reaches you. You see him start to move after the boy, but you lunge for and grab one of his legs, causing him to stumble with curses spilling from his lips. He whips his head down to look at you, and you do your best to not recoil from his gaze. 

“You just don’t know when to quit, do you?” He scowls, kicking you off him. You gasp, hitting the ground once more with a painful thud. Your ears ring, and your vision is blurring. 

“Just who do you think you are?” He kneels in front of you, gripping your shirt’s collar and yanking you up. You whimper in pain, your head throbbing as he jostles you. 

“I hope it was worth it. You can take his place.” 

“I’m not scared of you,” you lie, managing to catch his eyes. Truth be told, you're terrified. But you’d never tell this scumbag that. 

He lets out a low, threatening laugh. Chills race down your spine. “Oh, you aren’t very smart, are you?” He laughs again, gripping your collar tightly. “You’re lucky I haven’t killed you yet. I’m still deciding. How about I rough you up a little till then?” 

You feel the burn of tears in your eyes, and blink quickly to dispel them before they can form. You refuse to cry in front of him. 

You desperately hope the boy is safe. You’re so close to the town square. Vash and Wolfwood should be right near here. 

Through your blurring vision and pounding head, you see the man rear his hand back. You shut your eyes tight, bracing yourself. 

Instead of feeling the collision of his hand, you hear a sharp intake of breath. You crack open your eyes hesitantly, vision blurring. 

Your breath is pulled from your lungs, tears of relief flowing immediately. Because even with blurring vision, you are able to recognize the long, red coat blowing in the wind. Standing behind the man who tackled you is Vash. He’s holding the man by the wrist, and he looks furious . 

“Vash,” you breathe out, voice trembling. 

The man drops you from his grip, and you fall into the ground, immediately using your heels to scoot away from him. After blinking several times to focus, you take a good look at Vash. You’ve never seen him so angry before. The hand he’s using to grip the wrist of your assailant is trembling with restraint.. 

“I-I know you! You’re Vash the Stampede!” The man realizes with wide eyes, his face pale. 

Vash says nothing, his eyes narrowing. The man continues his nervous rambling. 

“L-look, I didn’t… we didn’t know you were here. If you want this town, it’s all yours. We’ll leave.” 

You hold your breath, watching to see what Vash does next. Your heart aches for him, knowing that he is bothered by the rumors that precede him. That said, that infamous reputation is pretty convenient right now. 

Vash uses his gun to knock out the man without a word. He immediately goes limp, crumpling to the ground as Vash releases his wrist. You release the breath you’d been holding, noting the pain in your head and body, but mostly feel great relief. Vash’s gaze remains trained on the unconscious form before him, his expression complicated. Several beats of silence pass, and you feel yourself becoming slightly anxious. Why hasn’t he said anything this entire time?

“Vash?” You call hesitantly, voice quiet. 

Your voice snaps him out of his daze. His eyes flicker up to yours, relief washing over his features as he races forward, throwing himself on his knees in front of you. 

“Oh Mayfly, god, look what they did to you,” the words spill from his mouth as he holds you in a bone crushing hug to his chest. 

You let yourself be cradled in his arms, disappointed slightly when he pulls back after a moment. He looks pained. 

“Your head,” he murmurs, hand gently reaching for your temple. You hiss when his fingers graze the throbbing, painful area. He retracts his hand, the blood on his gloved fingertips making you realize you’re bleeding. 

“I am so sorry. I’m so, so sorry,” he whispers, holding you close again. 

You furrow your brow and shake your head, trying to ignore the dizziness it causes. 

“You have nothing to be sorry for. It was my-” 

The words die on your tongue as you hear a familiar voice chattering animatedly around the corner. Both you and Vash turn to face the noise, seeing Wolfwood strolling around the corner of the building nearby, holding a child in his arms. You feel the tension drain from your body fully at the sight of the familiar little boy unharmed. 

You hastily stumble to your feet, trying to get over to him, doing your best to ignore the dizziness that overtakes you from the sudden movement. Vash scrambles after you, holding onto you as you sway. 

“Easy, easy! I think you have a concussion,” Vash implores, but you press forward stubbornly. 

The child sees you, squirming from Wolfwood’s grasp to reach you. With dried tears on his face, he looks up at you with big, worried eyes. You feel Vash’s hand at the small of your back, gently steadying you. 

“Well, looks like we found her! Good job, bud!” Wolfwood praises, ruffling the kid’s hair. 

A bright smile forms on his little face. He reaches out and snatches your hand. 

“Come help me find my mommy!”

#trigun #vash #vash the stampede #vash the stampede x reader #vash x reader #trigun 98 #trigun stampede #peachy writes!

[sebsxphia]

ptolemaea.

preacher!rhett abbott x reader.

￫ description: you and your local town preacher, rhett abbott, spend a night together in a motel room. rhett is there to calm your racing mind and have you admit your sins. based off the song, ‘ptolemaea’ by ethel cain.

￫ word count: 2.4K.

￫ c/w: heavy and dark religious themes, dark themes, fingering, kissing, swearing, overstimulation, edging, voyerism, mentions of oral (m!receiving), corruption and innocence kink, daddy kink, gagging on rhett’s fingers, derogatory language and cnc.

￫ a/n: i cannot recommend listening to the song ‘ptolemaea’ by ethel cain enough whilst reading this. the song, and entire album, ‘preacher’s daughter’, is a masterpiece. when i first listened to this song, the narrative voice in the song screamed preacher!rhett to me. this is part of ‘ptolemaea. | the verses.’ my main masterlist can be read here! 💌

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You pushed yourself against the back of the Motel door and closed it behind you. The paint was splintering and falling off in your palms. Rhett was sat at the edge of the Motel double bed. He looked up from his studious reading of his Bible, to catch your hesitant gaze.

“Sorry, Rhett. I didn’t know if y’ wanted me to follow you in, s’ I waited an hour or so back in the Diner.”

Your hands came round to your front and your fingers instinctively played with each other, trying to distract yourself from Rhett’s eyes boring into you, and from the situation that you had found yourself in.

When your town Preacher asked you to come away with him and see the sights of the West, you never thought you would. Well, you never realized how easy it would be. You mentally kicked yourself for allowing his calloused, yet gentle hands, to win you over so easily. But you couldn’t find yourself to blame him. He had nothing to fault.

Rhett parted his lips to speak and his tongue wet at his bottom lip. He let out a ‘tsk’ sound and shook his head in disagreement at your statement.

“I invited y’ in, twice. Y’ know there’s nothin’ for y’ to fear now y’ with me.”

Rhett’s eyes raked over your frame as if to study you. To read every inch of your flesh and how your body visibly reacted to his deep and Southern drawl. His insides were gloating with pride. He had managed to get you right where he wanted you.

You love blood too much, but not like I do. Rhett thought as you stood, still pressed against the back of the Motel door, as if you were in shark infested waters. He could smell your blood from miles away and he was about to go in for the killing bite.

“Suffer does the wolf, crawling t’ thee. Promisin’ a big fire, any fire, t’ keep you warm.” Rhett quoted back and out loud to you, when you didn’t react to his original statement. He was trying to soothe your racing mind and to convince you that this was right.

You held his heavy gaze, but you were unable to avoid the obvious spread of his thighs, with his palms planted firmly on his worn jeans. You saw his lips twitch in the corner, threatening for an almost Devilish grin to spread over them.

“That’s how y’ feel, don’t you?” Rhett cocked his head to the side and continued when you still didn’t answer. “I heard you at those Sunday Sermons. Moanin’ my name in the bathroom cubicle when y’ thought everyone had left. I saw you through the crack of the door, wi’ your hand down your pretty pink panties and y’ conservative sundress hitched around y’ thighs.”

Rhett continued as he read the way your body reacted to his words. How your chest was rising and falling quicker and how your fingers tangled messily in with each other.

“I gave you everythin’ you needed after, ‘nd now, I need you.” His tone became an octave lower at the seriousness of his words. “I love you.”

His final words were the lasting kick you needed to get yourself off of the back of the Motel door. It was the first time you had heard Rhett utter such meaningful words. No text, or lines from the Bible could mean this much to you both. His words spun round and round in your head as you made your way over to him in a flurry. He mirrored you in response and came crashing into you with his lips meeting yours.

His large hands were cupping your hot and rosy cheeks, with his rough thumbs cradling underneath your jaw to keep your lips planted firmly against his, as his tongue ran along your bottom lip and dipped into your mouth. A groan emitted from you both at the kiss. It had been weeks since Rhett had you to himself and you both craved each other more than you cared to admit. Sin had never tasted so good.

You muttered against his lips, over and over, like a prayer, in between the heated kiss, “Love you, love you, love you...”

You both pulled away from the kiss to catch up with your similar and erratic breathing pattern. Your breath hitched in your own dry yet sticky throat, trying to form some sort of salvia. Rhett still held your gaze and it felt as though he was burning through to your retinas. It burned more than the sinful guilt you could feel punching deep within your gut.

“In my prayers, they say I’m the one He’s gonna take. He’s gonna take me Rhett, f’ my sins. I feel like I’m on fire.”

You stumbled back with his hold still on your burning cheeks. You bumped against the lone desk that held the old television and sun bleached writing paper that adorned the Motels logo.

“Sufferin’ is nigh, draw to me, m’love. I will keep y’ safe.” Rhett soothed his thumb under your jaw and spoke with a calm and peaceful tone, never wavering in it’s meaning.

You could trust in your Preacher when he told you that he would keep you safe. Rhett told you that you were special. You were the white light that came through the muggy clouds to descend upon Earth itself. You were beautiful, finite and Heaven’s gift, all rolled into one. And if you could continue to stay with him, your sins would be forgiven.

His face shifted as he watched your eyes plead for him. His eyes softened to lull you into safety.

“When a body decomposes, even the iron in their blood still fears the rotting. Everyone is hidin’ from somethin’, ‘nd I cannot stop it. I cannot stop God from choosin’ us.”

Rhett’s reassurances calmed your pounding heartbeat that you could still hear swarming in your ears, yet still, there was a twinge of doubt in your mind.

You fiddled with the frayed hemming on your dress. “Daddy’s left ‘nd Mama won’t come home.”

For the past months, you were walking on shadows with Rhett. You found yourselves dipping in and out for quick, and sinful meetings, in his backroom office at the Church. The last meeting had ended with your knees buckled on the floor and when night came along, your parents had clearly worried where you had got to.

The sight of their own child with the town Preacher’s cock resting heavy in your mouth was enough for them to disown you altogether. It was after that, that Rhett suggested you both get away. The town no longer wanted a filthy Preacher in their midst and he would surely loose his place within the Church.

Rhett’s left hand and thumb reached up to run across your bottom lip. “You poor thing. Sweet, mournin’ lamb.” His thumb dipped in between your lips and you latched your tongue onto the pad of him and sucked him in greedily. “There's nothin’ you can do. It's already been done.”

It was a gentle, yet blunt reminder, but the feeling of your tongue swirling around his thumb made your mind go fuzzy altogether. You kneed into Rhett’s touch with no remorse. It gave you a sense of real fear, what a man like Rhett could bring upon a woman like you.

Your eyes had fluttered shut by this point and you registered the feeling of his right hand leaving your face. You could feel his calloused fingertips slide up your bare thigh and under your dress. His hand didn’t stop. It wouldn’t stop.

Your body jolted under his feverish touch when his large palm cupped your covered cunt. His index and little finger curved around the seam of your underwear and dragged along your lips. You still had your now swollen lips around his thumb, but he pulled it away and you couldn’t stop yourself from letting out a pitiful whine at the loss. A string of saliva was connecting from the pad of his thumb to your bottom lip.

Rhett shushed you in response as he replaced his thumb with his index and middle finger. They pressed down onto your tongue and you let out a choked sob as they pushed further down. Drool started to pool and drip out the corner of your mouth. It fell down onto the edge of your dress that was now hitched around your hips as his fingers moved passed the barrier of your underwear and slipped into your cunt with no complaint.

Your arousal had come seemingly quicker than before and Rhett had a prideful smile on his face, however your eyes were still scrunched shut and relishing in the taste of Rhett’s flesh and feeling the delicious movement of his fingers burying deep into your cunt, pressing up on the sweet spot that made you silently scream around his fingers.

You were aware that his eager gaze was still on you. No longer were you kept hidden away in a religious and sacred place. You were completely stripped bare for Rhett to see under the dim light in this dirty Motel room. What fear a man like Rhett brings upon a woman like you.

You swallowed around his thick fingers in your mouth and he took it as his sign to remove them from your swollen lips, to allow yourself to compose your erratic breathing. Your eyes blinked opened to his face.

“Please don’t look at me.” You muttered out in between labored breaths, as Rhett’s fingers still showed no sign of slowing down.

Your eyes rolled back into your skull as his thumb ran calculated circles on your swollen, and up until now, un-touched clit. How could Rhett ever deny himself of this Heavenly sight.

He was quick to shoot his hand out and his fingers gripped tightly onto your chin to bring back your lulling head to him.

“Show me your face.” He demanded and your pleading eyes moved back to his.

You moaned again at his grip on your chin and inside your cunt, followed by a name.

“F— Father.”

He clicked his tongue and shook his head at the name you had mournfully uttered.

“I can see it in your eyes.” He bit back.

He keeps looking at me. Oh, God. I know what he wants. You thought in panic to yourself.

“Tell me, what have y’ done?” He was pushing you further. He knew you were close by the feeling of your walls clenching, then fluttering, around him, but he wouldn’t let you come until you spoke his name.

Your hips were rocking against him as if to try and push his thumb harder against your clit. You were desperate to chase that feeling, yet he slowed down his ministrations. It was still enough to keep you dangling on that edge, but not enough all together at the same time.

“Please, Father. I— I can’t—” You whined out pitifully.

There were tears pricking in the corner of your eyes now. The delicious overstimulation, yet not feeling anything was blissful torture. Although you were seated high on top of the Motel desk, your body felt like it could give way with how hard it was trembling. You shot your hands out instinctively to hold onto Rhett’s large biceps to steady yourself.

Inside, your mind was repeating the one name that Rhett wanted from you. It was on the tip of your tongue, but it wouldn’t escape. He cooed and shushed you in response to your incessant whining and groaning, out of sheer frustration with yourself. Slow and agonizing circles were being ran around your clit.

“I’m the face of loves’ rage, but y’ know I can make this pain all go away. Tell me, what have y’ done, sweet lamb?”

The coil deep within your stomach was threatening to snap any second. All your innocence was currently being held in the palm of Rhett’s hand and you couldn’t hold onto it for much longer.

“Fuck!”

To anyone else the scream would have sounded blood curdling and murderous, but to Rhett, it was the sweet sound of your submission.

“I’ve sinned, Daddy. I’ve sinned!”

The name and words fell so freely from your mouth that it caused Rhett to finally break out into the Devilish grin he’d been hiding all this time. Your head fell back again under his grasp at your admission. All you could feel was his hot breath on your burning ears.

“Good girl.”

Like clockwork, his fingers picked back up their pace. Sliding in and out of you at a steady pace and curling up to press on the sweet spot inside you, that made your own cum seep out from your lips and drip onto the Motel desk. His thumb resumed it’s calculated circles and you could feel yourself hurtling closer and closer to the Heavenly release. His voice was still close to your ear as he started to pray, when he could feel the walls of your wet cunt tighten around him.

“Blessed be the Daughters of Abbott, bound to sufferin’ eternal through the sins of their Fathers committed long before their conception. Blessed be their whore mothers, tired ‘nd angry, waitin’ with bated breath in a ferry that will never move again.”

Strings of strangled cries left your lips as your orgasm approached and hit your whole body with a blinding and warm glow. The final swipe of Rhett’s thumb over your clit was all you needed and your cries turned silent with your nails digging so deep into his flesh that you knew it would mark.

“Blessed be the children, each and every one come to know their God through some senseless act of violence. Blessed be you, girl, promised to me by a man who can only feel hatred and contempt towards you.”

Rhett still continued on through your orgasm. Your hips were bucking ferociously against the palm of his hand, with you trying to rub your sensitive and swollen clit against the heel of his palm, to continue the feeling of the sensation and your earth shattering release.

“I am no good nor evil, simply I am, and I have come to take what is mine. I was there in the dark when you spilled your first blood.”

Your cries turned to incoherent mumblings. You were too drunk off Rhett giving you pleasure to string anything together. Of what he could make out, whilst he was still focused on reciting his prayer was, “Daddy, Daddy, Daddy…”

“I am here now, as you run from me still.”

He pulled the palm of his hand away from your cunt and he could feel your cum string from your swollen lips. His fingers pushed and brushed in turn against the sweet spot inside of you and his thumb returned back to your clit with no mercy. Your whole body was jolted back to the dirty motel room at the over sensitivity and your pleading tears now ran hot over your cheeks.

“S’ can’t, Daddy. Sensitive, ‘lease.” You wailed and begged Rhett for his forgiveness.

Your hips bucked again at his fiery touch. It caused the Motel desk to bump against the wall, yet he was still close to your ear and caging you in. The shark had finally had his taste of blood, and Rhett whispered his final prayer and wish.

“Run then, child. You can't hide from me forever.”

taglist: @tallrock35 @currentlybradshaw @iloveprettyboysblog @beachbabey @angelic-dreams13

#rhett abbott #rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott x you #rhett abbott x y/n #rhett abbott drabble #rhett abbott smut #rhett abbott fluff #rhett abbott angst #rhett abbott fic #rhett abbott fanfiction #rhett abbott imagine #lewis pullman #outer range #outer range imagine #outer range fanfiction #outer range fanfic #outer range fic #rhett abbott x female reader #rhett x reader #outer range x reader #tw: preacher rhett

[gothicfairytopia]

Like the music in the new Hunger Games movie but not really know anything about folk/bluegrass/country? Here are some quick recs to get you started!

(This is not comprehensive and the genres here are a little whack, these are just songs I listen to as someone raised on good Appalachian vibes. Not necessarily from just Appalachian artists, particularly in the second section. Just think it’s nice that people are getting more exposure to folk + bluegrass!)

Protest Songs / Coal Criticism

(Hazel Dickens I would give you smooches.. also these are just the ones living in my playlists rn)

“You’ll Never Leave Harlan Alive,” Patty Loveless

“The L and N Don’t Stop Here Anymore,” Jean Ritchie

“Coal Tattoo,” and I’m exercising my free will and linking the Hazel Dickens version

“The Yablonski Murder,” Hazel Dickens

“Coal,” Tyler Childers

“Trip to Hyden,” Tom T. Hall

“Coal Miner’s Daughter,” Loretta Lynn

“Devil Put the Coal in the Ground,” Steve Earle

Assorted Personal Favorites

(where my love for Sierra Ferrell is really on display)

“West Virginia Waltz,” Sierra Ferrell

“Across the Great Divide,” Nanci Griffith

“Blue Ridge Mountain,” Hurray for the Riff Raff

“Iowa (Traveling, Pt. 3),” Dar Williams

“Rhododendron,” Bella White

“Boulder to Birmingham,” Emmylou Harris

“Silver Dollar,” Sierra Ferrell

“Hands of Time,” Margo Price

“Lilacs,” Waxahatchee

“Way of the Triune God,” Tyler Childers

“The Dreaded Spoon,” Ricky Skaggs + Bruce Hornsby

“Preacher in the Ring, Pt. 1,” Bruce Hornsby

“The Green Rolling Hills of West Virginia,” Hazel Dickens

“Rocky Top,” The Osborne Brothers

“Do You Think About Me At All,” Bella White

“In Dreams,” Sierra Ferrell

#hunger games #tbosas #folk music #bluegrass #country #appalachia #ballad of songbirds and snakes #sierra ferrell #bella white #hazel dickens #bruce hornsby #hunger games renaissance #music recs #folk #protest songs

[cameronspecial]

can you do wildest dreams x rafe PLSS🥹🥹🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

Her Wildest Dream

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Mention of Robbery and Getting Arrested

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.6K

Masterlist

Y/N sits on the curb in the dark of the night. She snuck out of the house five minutes ago and is not waiting for Rafe to pick her up from the convenience store she is waiting at so that her parents don’t hear his bike. The rev of an engine causes her to dart to her feet in anticipation of her boyfriend. She thinks nothing of the distant sirens that sound throughout the night. How could her perfect man have anything to do with it? He slows in front of her and takes his helmet off with a shake of his hair. He grins at her, beckoning her to approach with a finger. She rushes over to him and flings her arms around his neck to kiss him. His arms slide to her waist, pulling her flush to his chest. “Come on, Princess. Let's get out of this town. Drive out of the city, away from the crowd,” he whispers, settling his helmet onto her head. She nods and giggles as he flicks the visor down. Her arms circle his waist while she swings her legs onto the motorcycle, resting the balls of her feet onto the pegs. Without warning, he drives off and she knows what to do already. Her arms grip against him and she leans into each turn with him.

They get to the beach farthest from civilization and lie down on the sand together. She talks to him for hours about every little thing that has happened to her since they last saw each other. Rafe listens to her like she is telling him the secret to eternal life. She wishes he would show this side of him to more people, then they wouldn’t think he is so bad. She doesn’t notice his apprehension. He’s good at hiding it. He would rather die than let her know that the cops were looking for him because he tried robbing a bank. But he needed that money for them. His father cut him off, so he needed the money to take her away from there. They could get away from the Outer Banks and be together. Without any labels from everyone around. 

This is probably going to be the last time they see each other again. He could’ve taken her far away, trying to run from the police. However, that isn’t the memory he wants of her. He wants to remember her, standing on the beach in her favourite dress. Her eyes observe the sunrise with her hair in the wind and the breeze nipping at her nose. As the sirens approach, he joins her at her side. She turns to him in confusion. He can’t put into words what is about to happen next, so he decides to save her the trouble of seeing the scene. He kisses her lips and then her forehead, backing away at the sight of her frowned eyebrows. Shouppe gets out of the car with his gun raised and watches as Rafe makes his way over with his hands up. “I’ll go with you, just promise me she won’t see anything and that you’ll get her home safely. Please,” Rafe begs, turning at Shouppe’s nod so the cuffs can be put on him. He catches one last glance at his princess to find her staring as the sun sets on their relationship. 

———

She knew that this story didn’t have a happy ending. She is the preacher’s daughter. An innocent vision and a good role model that every parent wants their daughter to turn out like. He is the notorious bad boy. A walking red flag that every parent warns their daughter against. But Y/N was always a little naive, thinking she could help him change. And it worked. But this story was just supposed to be her wildest dream.

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @victory-in-the-llama @drewsmusee @starkowswife

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #outer banks #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe #rafe fic #rafe x reader #rafe imagine #rafe obx #rafe fanfiction #rafe outer banks #outer banks rafe #outer banks imagine #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks x reader #outerbanks #obx imagine #obx #obx fic #obx fanfiction #obx fanfic

[mourninglamby]

do you have any Ethel Cain recs… I just listened to Preachers Daughter and I think there’s a hole in my chest where my heart would be and I’m dying the album was so good.

u don’t gotta ask me twice. locked and loaded here we go.

Unreleased tracks: princess ketamine (both demos), hospital bed i and ii, crying during sex, dust bowl, virginity, wrestling in dirt pits, ad nauseum. Theres SO many more but those are my faves rn

Released: casings, inbred, two headed mother, unpunishable (honestly just listen to her entire released discography. it’s an ongoing masterpiece)

Other: ashmedaii on SoundCloud (her other account) has a LOT of incredible ambient/horror stuff … very cool and aside from the ones that are supposed to be scary they’re kinda calming … my fav is 004 and house of psychotic women ^__^

#Ethel Cain #music