#i remember being in middle school and i had a friend who was really Christian

[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

[geometricalien]

15 people, 15 questions

Tagged by @ultfreakme thank you!! 💕💕

1.) Are you named after anyone?

My first name is biblical and since my parents are Christian and my sibling also has a biblical name, I always presumed it was bc of that. My middle name though is actually a last name from my lineage

2.) When was the last time you cried?

Yesterday! It was day 2 of being home alone since my roommate left for the week and I was feeling particularly lonely since another friend wasn't able to hang out with me the last couple of days in addition to feeling isolated from family during the holiday season Plus being on my period --- yeahhh

3.) Do you have kids?

No. Nope. Nuh uh. Ask me again in 10 years

4.) What sports do you play/have played?

I did volleyball and basketball a lot in my youth, did soccer in elementary school

5.) Do you use sarcasm?

Sometimes. Mostly only with friends when we know we are being sarcastic and are playing it up? Otherwise, I'm just such a literal person I hardly use it elsewhere (even when my friends and I are joking/using sarcasm we often say "just kidding" afterwards)

6.) What’s the first thing you notice about people?

Honestly height and hair. I have such bad face blindness, and I've had it forever. But I'll remember if someone was taller/shorter than me and their hair color

7.) What’s your eye colour?

Grayish blue. They were described like ice before if that helps

8.) Scary movies or happy endings?

Depends on my mood. I like horror movies and there are just so many different kinds- I haven't found a movie that genuinely scares me in a long time though... The last one I remember was Nope. I walked out of the theater and was just watching all the clouds in the sky fkdlsajf

9.) Any talents?

Nothing is really coming to mind... I guess I'm crafty? And it shows itself in different ways. I enjoy the process of creating. Be it in writing or drawing or baking and decorating or following steps- I enjoy having a vision and creating it

10.) Where were you born?

Usa

11.) What are your hobbies?

I read books and fanfiction, I write fanfiction, watch anime and shows, cook, bake, play genshin impact. I've been playing wordle every day for almost a year now. I like tactical stuff with instructions- like legos or putting together furniture- I got this DIY book nook last week and spent like 8 hours putting it together. In school as part of the STEM program we learned how to draft both by hand and on the computer through CAD and Solidworks- those were fun. I miss that. Again it uses that same part of the brain as legos. I also like playing with cards. I have solitaire and pinocle on my phone. I was also learning how to play chess (like the strategy part)

12.) Do you have any pets?

My family home has the cat I got my 8th birthday (barn cat, brown tabby with four white socks on his paws). In the apartment though there is my roommate's black lab, half ragdoll half Siamese cat, and who knows how many fish that keep having babies

13.) How tall are you?

5'10'' (on a good day sshhh)

14.) Favourite subject in school?

MATH HELLO! (......... but also the drafting classes damn i miss those)

15.) Dream job?

Can there be such a thing as having extreme trivia knowledge on my fandoms? I'd like that alot but otherwise.... I'd like to work at one of those cat [Blank] things. Be it a café or a bar or a bookstore (that'd be awesome!!) I think that would be fun

Tagging @alienjack @szivtalan @glitt-erm @amnestyaubrey @farklelucas @brazilian-whalien52 @bloodyspade0000 @traditionalartist @illbebuyingallofthoseflowers and anyone else who sees this and wants to hop in ☺️

#ask game #tags #personal questions? #the talent and hobby one were hard #bc yeah i can do things! paint draw write sing! but i wouldnt necessarily say im Talented at them. i can pluck at a piano. dont give me a #song and expect me to play good/well in a week though. #the one thing i thought i could say i excel in was math and thats... #dont ask me to do simple math like add two numbers. i suck at quick math like that that relies on memory. bc yeah i know what 6×7 is! or #18+5! but it takes my brain a moment to find the answer or remember and process the way to solve something. #but i say i majored in math and people oooo and ahhhh and say you must be good at math!! #i hate math!! #and like- yes and i get it. sometimes i do to. #to want to major in math means you must have had some success and fallen in love with it. and yeah that success can come through innate ski #ll or trial or both. #i found that my love for math deepens when i struggle bc that makes the success that much sweeter. #i feel like there is a connection in this struggle and solving with the bringing about a vision from crafting... #maybe they just have a similar feeling of success. maybe thats all... #but its not i feel in my gut that its not. #writing a proof and beginning with a vision and seeing where the logic leads is very similar to starting a project- be it building something #or writing a novel or starting a painting. you follow the flow and see where it leads you. access if its met its goal or expectations. #and fix the mistakes and if necessary start all over with a new approach. #it is creation. #sorry for the ramblings

[glacierruler]

Patton Sanders

Just felt like sharing my very nuanced opinions about a certain side. He's not my favorite, but I see a lot of myself in him. Which is both a good and bad thing. Be very warned this is heavily based off of how I act vs. how I've seen him act in canon, but I'm not going to bring up specific in canon moments. It's just how I remember him.

First things first, I adore Patton, but he's trying to juggle too much. He's trying to control his emotions, be the example Thomas is to lead by, be the 'dad' persona, and keep everything in check. Because of this, Patton is manipulative, but I don't think he means to be. I think, most of his manipulation, honestly comes from a place of, things need to be this way morally, if they aren't then Thomas might be a bad person, and if that's the case I've failed him. What am I supposed to do them? Which is a huge weight for any of the sides to carry. Feeling as if though they failed him because they couldn't lead him down the correct path. But what Patton doesn't seem to get, is that he's not the only one making those judgements on morals. All of the sides have their own views on what's a priority and what's moral or immoral. I think in the redux, Patton finally realized that(to an extent, idk if it's an in depth revelation yet), because he saw that he was hurting Thomas. But in seeing that, he and the others ended up hurting Roman, who had looked to Patton for the more moral side of things, because he had thought that only Patton could make the call on that. Because of the sway morality has on the princely side, who's supposed to be doing his best to always do the moral thing, Roman ended up getting really hurt because of this. Also Patton's silence in the end was telling for how his views had changed and he wasn't sure of his stance on anything or anyone anymore, including Roman. Everything was just flipped upside down and shattered for him. Because he had been basing his morality off of his feelings. The feelings he had been trying to juggle, repress, and hide from the others. Yes he had talked to the others about his feelings and repressing and hiding them. But that doesn't mean he's stopped, it's hard to stop a habit that's been so ingrained into your head that no one knew about until recently. And this repression is because he has been raised to view these negative emotions as 'bad' and 'evil' so how could the others like anything about him that isn't perfect and good? And in turn, if Thomas isn't perfect and good, then that's Patton's fault. And on top of that, he's trying to be the dad persona to all of us, someone who's happy and loving. Someone you can always look up to and rely on. He's trying to be all of that, do all of that, and he can't. He's putting too much on his plate, and hurting those closest to him because of that, and he's only just grasped that he's been hurting Thomas because of Janus.

And because of all this, I can't hate him. As someone who was raised in a Christian household, there's a lot of expectations to be perfect. Because I was always 'happy' at school, I was known as the happy friend, where nothing could go wrong with me. I didn't have emotions other than happy. Teachers always looked at me for my good behavior, which only made my need to be seen as perfect worse. Because if I wasn't perfect, who was I? And it ended up with me hurting others, and I never meant to, it just sort of happened. It took my whole world being shattered in middle school for me to start seeing that maybe that wasn't the way to live. That much pressure isn't good for anyone. And it's still a struggle for me, and I'm seeing Patton, someone who is so much like the old me, struggling to learn that for himself. And I can't help but try and cheer him on his journey. Yes he's messed up, and owes a lot of sides a lot of apologies, I am not denying that. But in order for him to try his best to not repeat the behavior, he has to figure out the best way to stop doing it. Which is hard, it's one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. And I wish I had had someone who was going through the same thing as me when I was younger, to be able to help me pick up the pieces. So because of all this, I can't hate him. And I hope he's able to figure out how to love himself, flaws and all, so he can start loving others for their flaws too.

#patton sanders criticism #ts patton criticism #patton criticism #patton #patton sanders #sanders sides #ts patton #tss patton #glacier rambles

[daughter-of-sapph0]

May I ask what helped you decide you wanted to convert? For me, there's always been a fascination with Jewish culture that grew into a lot of love for all of the aspects of religion. As a queer person, the celebration of survival against all odds really spoke to me as well as the deep philosophical nit-picking of the Talmud and what god even means. The fact that you even be Jewish and convert as well without even fully believing in god is very meaningful to me.

I haven't started my conversion process yet because the only synagogue near me has some pretty bad politics but I really hope to be able to start one day

Anyway I hope you have a nice day💖

I've had this ask in my inbox for days because I've spent forever just thinking about how to answer it. I'd say it's really two big things that made me want to convert. the first thing being the people around me who were Jewish and had a love for their religion, and the second being my catholic mother.

let me explain the my mother first. I was raised catholic. my mother comes from an Irish catholic family, so from birth to about 8th grade I was raised as a catholic. I never really questioned it any. my dad was lutheran, and even though he wasn't religious, we sometimes went to mass with his parents. and we also had lots of friends who were all different flavors of christian, so I had a pretty diverse experience of what it ment to be christian. but that's the thing, I only knew about christianity. I mean, I knew other religions existed. I knew that other people believed things that were different than the things I believed. I knew there were different traditions and holidays and such. but I knew basically nothing about it until I got to middle school.

I went to a very small catholic school for middle school. I had previously gone to a public elementary school. but at 6th grade, my mother really wanted me to go to the school she went to when she was a kid. it was a tiny little k-8 brick building connected to the local church that couldn't have had more than 200 kids in the entire school. it was basically the same as public school, although the math program was a year ahead so I was doing geometry in algebra 1 in 8th grade instead of 9th. we had a religion class that was basically history revolving around early christianity. I say that because although they said it was the history of Jewish people before Jesus, it was taught in a very christian-centric way.

I wouldn't say it was a bad school. there was never any forced political views. there was an optional field trip to go to the march for life anti abortion thing in DC, and I wanted to go (because I was a stupid kid who had no idea what abortion even was and just wanted to visit DC) but my mom told me I really shouldn't and explained why she's pro choice. I distinctly remember this conversation with her, because it was at that point I realized that christians, even of the same dinomination, have wildly different views, but you aren't really allowed to talk about it.

I can't remember a lot about the school. I just remember that I was bullied a lot. I had severe undiagnosed adhd and autism, plus I was struggling with my own sexuality and gender. although the school wasn't outright homophobic, it wasn't like they were hosting pflag meetings either. so I kinda bottled my emotions up until high school. it was at that time I became an atheist. I was questioning the concept of an all knowing and all loving god who would make a world with so much hate and violence and sadness in it. I couldn't accept that god loved me, knew everything about me, made me the way I am, but also hated me because I was gay and disabled. obviously I wasn't taught this at middle school. but I heard it online from homophobes and ablists using religion to harm others, and I associated this with all christians. I didn't hate christianity, I just didn't want to be a part of it.

so anyway, I was an atheist for a while. for about two years in high school. I wasn't a reddit atheist or an antitheist. I still respected other people's religions. I just didn't believe in any of my own. I was still questioning my gender at this time, and I struggled a lot with grades especially in my freshman year. I finally started going to therapy and taking meds to help focus, and my grades drastically improved my sophomore year. (I just realized that those terms probably mean nothing to non-americans. freshman is first year of high school, or 9th grade. sophomore is second year of high school, or 10th grade. junior is third, or 11th grade. and senior is fourth, or 12th grade)

my mom was always supporting me through all of this. she accepted me with everything that was going on in my life, whether it's religion or sexuality or disability or gender. she was the first family member I came out as trans to. and she has been nothing but supportive and loving for my entire life. she like, the exact opposite of a conservative christian. she uses her religion and her faith to spread love, and not hate. and even though at this point I wasn't a christian, she still supported me because of her being raised as a catholic to love everyone. and she never forced me to go to church or change back to catholicism or anything. she let me do my own thing and supported everything I did.

anyway, I came out as trans during the middle of my junior year. I had just been through a rough breakup with a really nice guy, but he helped me figure out my gender shit and made me realize I could be whatever gender I wanted to be as long as I was happy. we stayed friends for a while after that. but he was a year older than me so we didn't really talk after he graduated. but he helped me realize I was trans. and now I started to feel better and more confident about myself. I made friends with a lot of people online. I specifically made efforts to make friends with all different types of people. I had always been a pretty liberal person and social justice advocate. but I wanted to try and learn more about the world beyond my very limited experience. and either by coincidence or fate, I ended up being friends with a lot of transgender Jews. I spent a lot of time learning about Judaism and what it ment to be Jewish. idk what it was, but I felt a really strong connection to my Jewish friends.

but anyway, I'm going through high school, in my senior year, while also taking night classes at community college. just going about life, taking sociology and psychology, while also being a social justice advocate online. when BOOM, pandemic. everything stopped. I graduated high school, but college switched to online and my grades tanked again. it was just like freshman year, except now I was paying nearly two thousand dollars a semester. so I quit. I would have became a total shut in if I hadn't met some really nice people who lived nearby. they helped me be more confident with my self image and personality. I went out more, safely of course because it was the pandemic. I decided I wasn't going to quit college, but just take a break until in person classes started again. I had a few jobs in retail and restaurants, which all absolutely sucked. and I spent a lot of time meditating and thinking to myself about philosophy. since I had a lot of free time, I read a lot. different religious texts and commentaries on those texts. I started to realize that I was religious, but I just didn't know how. I told my current philosophy to some of my friends, most of whom happened to be Jewish, and they said it sounded very similar to Judaism. so I looked into it. in fall of 2020, I reached out to a local rabbi, and told him I wanted to convert to Judaism. he denied me three times as per tradition, but finally said that if I wanted to be Jewish, I had to make sure it was the right religion for me. I had to study and ready and learn. converting is a long process, and usually takes years. I'm almost two and a half years into my conversion process. and from reading and talking with other Jewish people, I'm learning more every day. I've had times where I've doubted myself. where I felt like I had imposter syndrome, or like it wasn't my choice to convert. it's been hard sometimes. but I haven't given up. I'm staying with it because I truly love Judaism and Jewish people and traditions and culture and the thousands of different approaches to god and faith.

converting is gonna be different for everyone. but in general, it's not easy. and it's not supposed to be. you're not really supposed to convert out of Judaism. you can be a Jewish atheist. but once you're Jewish, you're intended to be Jewish for life. so all that time you spend studying and learning is supposed to make you ask yourself over and over and over again "are you sure". and every single time I've asked myself that question, the answer has always been "yes".

sorry this turned out to be more of a life story than a simple answer as to why I chose to convert. but there is no simple answer. I didn't just wake up one day and decide to be Jewish. it was a long process from the millions of decisions and choices by me and the people around me that lead me to where I am today. in religion, philosophy, art, and life in general, there are no such things as simple answers. so, find beauty in the complexity of the universe.

thank you, anon

#dostxt #jewish convert #Jews by choice #jewish #jewish wlw #jewblr #asks #long post

[thatpunkmaximoff]

[Book 4 of 4]

Story: 5 out of 5 Smut: 4 out of 5

I really thought this book was going to be my least liked, but oh my god did it prove me wrong!

It's a bit slow in the beginning, picked up a little after 300 pages, and made me fall absolutely in love. Not only did Stella become my favorite girl of the series, but Christian is warring with Rhys for that number one spot too.

This book has the perfect balance of mystery, romance, and angst. It kept me guessing up until the last few chapters and even solved the mystery of that ugly painting from book one lol.

Now enjoy my ramblings..

* Oohhhh. I love a good mystery. Who’s the stalker?

* Christian fucking with Dante and his fiancée is funny. He really is a possessive asshole.

* Christian shutting up Raya and Adam made me so happy. Take that middle school bs outta here.

* Brady suggesting Stella date someone for her blog.. I’m just imagining Christian’s reaction 😂 This won’t end well.

* It didn’t take Christian long to swoop in, huh? Lol.

* “I don’t believe in love.” — Famous last words, Christian.

* Oohhh. Pretty dress you got her, Harper.

* And social media knows Stella is “dating”. Let the shitshow begin.

* What is up with this turquoise ring?

* How fucked up would it be if Christian was Stella’s stalker? 😂

* Well at least she told her friends the truth.

* Lol at Rhys and Alex grilling Christian about Stella. I didn’t even know Alex and Christian knew each other.

* Goddamn. The stalker got close enough to slip a note in her purse?

* Awww. Christian helped her out of her panic attack 🥰

* Okay so I hate Stella’s family.

* Fuck the unicorn. I wanna cuddle Mr. Harper!

* Okay. The tension is THICK between these two at the art exhibit. Holy shit.

* Fuck. The stalker got into her apartment 😨

* Aww. Christian is so fucked. She’s sleeping in his bed 😂

* Damn. Christian is cold the morning after. Take that stick out of your ass, dude.

* Almost kiss.. oh my god! Just bang it out already!!

* Holy shit.. Stella’s fantasy 👀

* Awwww. Look at Christian and his heart of good saving the photoshoot 🥰

* He blew up a car 😂

* Christian keeps blue-balling himself. I don’t know whether to be proud of him or annoyed.

* Lol at the boys all teasing Christian over catching feelings 🤣

* Wait, wait, wait.. do Christian and Stella have a past that she doesn’t remember?! I’m so lost lmao.

* That family dinner was fucked from the beginning lmao. I’m so happy Stella stood up to her family. I had just hoped Christian would tell the sister shit for stirring the pot.

* Damn. Who is hacking into Christian’s systems? He’s gonna murder someone 😂

* ..and we have our first finger banging encounter. It only took 300+ pages 🤦🏻‍♀️

* STELLA!! — “I didn’t want soft kisses and gentle caresses. I wanted skin and blood. I wanted nails scratching down his back and bruises on my hips.” — Yes ma’am. Get it!

* Oh Stella. You’re my new favorite girl lmao.

* Way to go, Christian. Way to bring me down after that excellent scene. Just what lies are you telling, mister?

* Holy shit! He shot him 😂

* Fuck. This stalker is getting bold. Sending Christian threats? Wrong move, my dude.

* Awww. Christian’s in love with Stella 🥰 Now fess up, buddy! What secrets are you hiding?

* She told him she loved him and he implied it back 😩

* So that’s the story of the ring..

* “If she brought me to life with three words- I love you- she slayed me with an equal number. Don’t touch me.” — and my heart is broken. Ugh.

* HE FUCKING SAID THE WORDS 😭😭😭 I hate this book 💔

* Lol I love the guys teasing the fuck out of Christian.

* “You’ll always be my first, last, and only love.”

* WHO FUCKING KIDNAPPED HER?!

* So the traitor is Kage. What a dick. Now go find your girl, Christian. And figure out who the stalker is!

* Julian’s the stalker?! Wtf.

* He found her 😭

* So THAT’S the story behind that awful painting that keeps being brought up.

* Christian eats pussy like a champ 😂

* Wtf happened with the banana float 🤣

* He proposed! Oh my god, he proposed!

* They’re all sappy, married/engaged men and I love it.

* And now Stella is pregnant 😭

* They had a daughter! Oh how I wish I could have seen Rhys teasing the fuck out of him. Perfect fucking ending.

* I miss this group already.

#twisted series #twisted lies #ana huang #stella alonso #christian harper #booktok #book review #bookworm #booklr

[emberwritesinsight]

I just got back from seeing the movie adaptation of Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret (NO idea how it took this long to get one, the book is like 50 years old) and I spent most of the movie just grinning at the screen. Margaret is so endearing and I can’t for the life of me remember the name of the girl who plays her, but she did a great job and they cast her well. I don’t think Margaret’s parents get this much focus in the book, but you know what? I like it. Their relationship with each other and with Margaret is very sweet. Grandma Simon is also a highlight, the life expectancy line took me out.

The tug-of-war going on between both of Margaret’s sets of grandparents is painful. I do appreciate how they don’t present it as a “both sides are equally wrong” situation. Both sides are being pushy and not really asking Margaret what she wants, but they are not the same. Grandma Simon is pretty enthusiastic about the prospect of Margaret being Jewish, perhaps overly enthusiastic at times, but they also just like each other and she would obviously love Margaret regardless. The maternal grandparents, on the other hand, disowned their daughter just for marrying a Jewish guy, and the main reason they have the gall to show their faces in her house again is because they’re trying to convert Margaret to Christianity. It fucking hurts, dude. In a good way.

All of Margaret’s friends and classmates are also great, they really got the Vibes of... well, everyone, but special mention goes to Nancy Wheeler and Phillip Leeroy, who both suck in distinctly middle-schooler ways (well, they’re technically still in elementary, but they’re sixth graders, and sixth grade will always be middle school territory to me) and were portrayed perfectly. HUGE props to Nancy Wheeler’s actress for getting through that “practice kissing” scene with a straight face, I imagine it took a lot of takes. Also, she managed to make me feel legitimately sorry for Nancy when she starts crying (I could never really fully hate her because she’s Literally Twelve but she had been getting on my nerves with her... everything). Even though Nancy’s primary role in the story is to confidently spew bullshit that makes Margaret feel insecure, she is also, again, Literally Twelve and that comes through very clearly.

Whatever Moose and Margaret have going on is understated but cute. I hope they have fun hanging out after Margaret gets back from summer camp.

All in all, great movie, absolutely recommend. I loved it.

#are you there god? it's me margaret spoilers #are you there god? it's me margaret

[whyyoualwayssoradical]

realized i was gay in middle school but at the time with all the protestant pentecostal holiness churching i had, it made my perspective see it as just giving in to "sin". i remember completely breaking down one night at like the precipice of the realization of what and who i really was but i was so committed to being christian or whatever i went the complete opposite direction mentally and thought i had to stop "sinning". i don't know maybe i'm just stupid and none of this makes sense to anyone but it's like i was so determined to live up to my mom's expectations and her wanting me to be a good christian and me being cut off from the rest of the world i just took it and buried it as deep as i could and tried everything to blend in as straight but likely not as well as i thought i might have been. the only thing that really mattered perception wise was that i knew if any kind of rumor made it back to my family about my sexual orientation i was going to experience some kind of hell on earth. so it didn't really matter what i got called at school as long as nothing that was said could amount to me actually potentially being gay, so i mentally just ruled it out so to speak and just tried to be Not Gay if you can even believe that's possible to do as like a middle schooler, i just know i was terrified of anyone perceiving me or anything i did as incorrect in regards to my family. basically small enough town everyone knew who i was or their parents knew who i was and knew my parents or someone that knew my parents and basically anything i did was under a microscope because i was the Baby of the <family name> and that's who i always was. i was my dad's son or my mom's son or the younger brother of my brothers.

looking back everything makes sense to me now i think. i thought i had to be straight and there were nothing else, i thought it was inevitable that i was going to have to be intimate with the opposite sex and i hated the idea of that, i didnt even understand why people dated each other, let alone get married and do the required things to have children. i was always friends with more girls than boys but once i got to middle school boys and girls just hanging out wasn't like a thing anymore for some reason socially. i hated boys so much, mean assholes all of them so i always tried to hang out with girls but eventually i stopped being allowed to. i had all these weird and warped perceptions of everything social related and i just never understood any of it and i was just trying to recognize patterns and try to blend in to not stick out but i was still obviously very different to some kids and i eventually figured out how to blend in well enough that most kids just left me alone by late middle school.

i don't know i feel like my mind is so completely messed up and unraveling it has been a monumental task

#i dont know this is what i remember and what i can best make out #its all really confusing #protestantism really fucks you up #still afraid of my dad potentially just wanting to kill me for being gay #sorry #always afraid to talk about these experiences because of how it will get interpreted and people often misinterpret me #i dont know how else to describe it all #it probably sounds stupid #maybe delete maybe not

[bloodytoxicnigntmare]

Introduction

Welcome to my new blog, Bloody Toxic Nightmare. This is the title name for a reason as this is going to dive into my life and how it had affected me to this day. It is not for the faint of heart, it is disturbing and holds a lot of things you would never believe would happen to a person; a child. If you don't believe the things that happen to me and the things that will be listed here, good. But please keep an opened mind when reading this, don't just instantly think this is some make believe or certain things here don't really happen.

Hello, my name is Nightmare. I run an Instagram account that helps inform/educate people in things that didn't know existed, things that have stigma around it, or things that don't get enough light shined on them. I am Hispanic and black and I struggle with a lot of things that make it hard to be a "normal" individual.

I have always been the black sheep wherever I go, even with my family. I am the middle child, I was not supposed to be born. My parents wanted two kids, one girl and one boy, and since I did not turn out to be a boy like they wanted they instantly tried again resulting in my brother who is a year younger than I am. This is not assumption, they have told me I was a mistake and how they didn't want to get an abortion because it was expensive. It's something I have to live with being reminded every now and again.

This blog post will dive deep into all of the trauma I have endured. Names will not be the same as people's real names here, the names given to everyone will be fake and will be made up for safety purposes. Thinking about this type of stuff pushes me into a dark time, and instead of dwelling on it I wanted to use my vulnerability as a way to shed light on how some people get treated and how some people live their life afraid of a lot of things.

Trigger Warnings: This will be what The blog talks about, please remember that this is here for a reason sexual abuse: rape, groping, harassment, catcalling, online sexual violence, sex trafficking physical abuse: slapping, punching, throwing things, choking, throwing, cutting verbal abuse: yelling, degrading, talking down about someone in front of them, silent treatment, threats self harm: cutting, not eating, over eating, burning, not taking care of hygiene religious abuse forced religion: forced to follow Christianity, forced to follow the pastor's rules, child marriage, abuse excused by religion school trauma: bullying, sexual abuse, verbal abuse, being neglected by staff, being jumped/forced to fight, forced to smoke, forced to drink suicidal thoughts suicidal actions death

“They never tell the full story… just the part that makes you look bad.”

Instagram: whispersin.theshadows

Dos and Don'ts - ask questions in the comments - send anonymous messages - talk about your own experiences under the posts - privately message us without permission - fakeclaim us - ask for a certain alter to front - flirt - ask to be friends - ask about our spins - ask extremely personal questions more will be addded when we come up with more

Table of contents will be posted once it is created so you know what post is ours and what it is about.

#traumagenic system #hcdid #traumagenic #trauma #sa #physical abuse #borderline personality disorder #narcissistic personality disorder #hc did system #hc did #speaking my truth #dark side of my life #dark truth #abuse story #ramcoa #ramcoa system

[ierogenvy]

i guess my problem is i’ve always not really believed in god. so the whole “what is my identity - who am i - if i’m not religious” theme of the book was pointless. like don’t get me wrong from approximately birth to the end of high school i attended church, went to vbs and youth group - hell my preschool was the one hosted at my church. but i don’t ever remember actually believing in god. or the religion. it was just some boring shit i had to do once a week. the vbs was a fun week in the summer. in youth group i had friends and sang in the youth choir and we would go on trips occasionally. and so bc i was at church all the time i “was” a christian. but like. i didnt proselytize to people at my school. i didn’t identify as christian. and i doubted most of the bible and strongly disliked most christian factions for their staunchly anti-christian politics and behaviors outside of church.

side bar: you know i see this one couple from church while i’m at work all the time. and they are adults - they were “coaches” in the youth group. i saw them anywhere from once to three times a week for six years. my senior year of high school i went on a week long mission trip with the wife as one of the four adult chaperones. these two people either genuinely do not recognize me anymore, or they don’t want to. i mean for the love of god, the mothers of people i went to high school with see me and recognize me and say hi. my middle school choir teacher knew i had been one of her students and i was only in choir for one year! maybe i stopped going to church once i got to college but would it kill you to say “hi i remember who the fuck you are after spending 4 hours a week with you during your developmental years.”

anyways. i certainly never believed in sinning or hell. i never felt any kind of obligation to do good because of god. maybe i learned some lessons about right and wrong from the bible stories, but i feel like i could’ve learned those anywhere.

i definitely didn’t have the language to explain it as a child, and looking back, i don’t think i was cognizant that i felt this way, but i really don’t think i ever bought “this man (and son and spirit) in the sky is watching you and whenever you do something bad, he knows, and so when you die - when you’re old, which is something you can’t even comprehend yet, being old or dying - you’ll go to hell instead of heaven with us :)”

second sidebar: i saw someone on tiktok point out how insane it is that some religious people tell their babies about hell. and how traumatic that could be. and like. holy shit that’s a good point?! what would possess grown adults to threaten their children with the bad place ???? they’re babies !!!!!! threaten them with no cookies or no ipad.

i don’t really have a conclusion. but. ig it’s just that i never really identified with religion in the first place, so when i read about some kid being worried about not identifying with religion, i thought she was an idiot.

#dont mind me

[hindahoney]

Not sure if you're ok with me rbing that post but yeah I'm currently a conversion student and when I first started my journey I was rly taken aback by the very casual antisemitism from people I otherwise trusted. Going in I was more scared that I wouldn't be as welcome as a born Jew by existing members but nope, everyone at my synagogue has been really lovely and welcoming. It was actually my non Jewish friends who surprised me..They were my people, we were generally all on the same page about everything political and social justice related, but only when I started looking at the world from a more Jewish perspective did I realise how baked-in antisemitism is. People ragging on bits of the Bible that they think are stupid or ridiculous because they think it's Christianity they're making fun of, but the history was Jewish first. I've told my friends that I struggle to talk comfortably about my faith with gentiles because the people I hang out with are the type of people the Church antagonizes and they take their anger out on this nebulous idea of religion. I've told friends that I was finally feeling at peace with myself knowing I am on a good path, that I was healthier and happier and was becoming a better and kinder person because of my religious journey, and they responded with "Well religion is flawed." Or "Humans shouldn't have religion, it's too big a responsibility and always ends with war." I've told friends about emotional experiences I've had at the shul, and they've laughed at me. Vegan friends telling me that kosher diets are unethical because they think it's about some lives being worth more than others. There's so much ridicule and carelessness everywhere....

Thank you for sharing, and I'm so sorry you've experienced this. You're not alone. This is something I hear a lot from converts. I've experienced it myself when people don't know I'm Jewish. I remember once going to dinner with a goyisch friend I hadn't seen since middle school and once I told them what I do for work (research antisemitism on social media), they got all awkward. Upon some light prodding, my "friend" began telling me that they're involved in several antisemitic groups online and that they deny the fact of 6 million Jews being murdered during the holocaust. He said that he believes it happened, but that the numbers were exaggerated. He called us "Ashkenazi rats." I'd heard enough and walked out.

This, among so many other instances of antisemitism I've faced from both friends and family, has led me to feel uncomfortable in rooms in which I am the only Jew. I wish this weren't the case, but it's true. I notice myself having difficulty in the secular world, and by now all of my friends are Jewish. I'm tired of explaining my practices and beliefs to people who I know either won't understand or will outright judge me for them. I am tired of the casual antisemitism I've faced, and jokes made at my expense. I feel separated from the goyisch world, like I don't fit in there anymore, and at this point, I am tired of trying to insert myself in a world that isn't willing to understand me and already has beliefs about my people.

Again, thank you for sharing, and if anyone has any experiences they'd like to share I would love to hear it.

#jumblr #frumblr #judaism #jewish conversion #antisemitism #holocaust tw #ask

[goodluckdetective]

On Books Bans and Being a Queer Kid

So there’s been a lot of talk in the news recently about people trying to remove books with queer content (and also content about racial justice/people of color which is also a critical issue that I’d feel amiss to not mention) from school and public libraries. A lot of this discussion revolves around this idea that queer books “turn kids queer” or “indoctrinate them” which is obviously bullshit but sadly widely believed by dipshits on Twitter. So I wanted to write up something about a kid who didn’t have access to queer books growing up: me.

I grew up in the late 90′s/early 2000′s. The first time I learned about gay people, it was because one of my friends liked Ellen’s talk show. There were no books about queer people in my middle school library except for a Christian lit one about someone who was dealing with her best friend being a lesbian and how you could “love the sin and hate the sinner” and “gay people were broken.” Otherwise, there was nothing except debates on the news if civil partnerships should exist. (Those debates would also take place in my high school where one of my own teachers would debate against gay marriage and I would sit in his class every day an feel like he saw something in me that he hated that I had not yet named out loud).

Of course, I turned out queer anyway. Even before I knew about gay people, I would choose a random guy who I knew wouldn’t like me back so people would stop asking me about it. I never cared for the Jonas brothers’ craze that swept our school. I was surprised upon entering middle school when tomboy became something that was considered “bad” to be. My friends who were girls tried to get me interested in fashion and makeup and for a solid 2 years, I played along even though I didn’t really get it. I can still remember sitting at sleepovers where my friends were doing their hair and thinking that there must have been a day in school that I had missed where everyone learned femininity. 

Skip to Freshman year. I can remember sitting on the bus home and looking out the window and seeing the cheerleaders pass by. One of the cheerleaders was an old nemesis of mine; we’d never gotten along and our dislike for each other was obvious. But I can remember seeing her in that cheerleading outfit and instead of being hit by the usual dislike, thinking “wow, she’s really pretty.”

And then it hit me like a ton of bricks. Three thoughts in quick succession. 

1. I’m gay.

2. Oh no, my life is going to be so much harder now.

3. And on top of all this, I have terrible taste in women!

I’ve told this story before, because the third thought is objectively funny and makes me chuckle to this day. But I want to focus on the second thought, because it’s the important one. Because that’s the kind of thought you get where you’ve grown up with “gay” as an insult, where the only books you could access were about how broken you were, when no one says “gay” in your classrooms. 

It teaches you that the world you occupy is now a much more dangerous place than you thought. That this thing that you are will bring hardship. That if you want to make it through, you’re going to have to hide.

I hid. All of high school I hid until my Freshman year of college. I didn’t tell my parents until after I graduated. I still hide now sometimes, because safety requires it. 

When you ban queer books and the word gay in schools, you ban nothing but the feeling of security and safety for queer kids. You teach them that the second thought I had at age 15 is the right one: that being queer is a hardship. And that’s just not true. Since coming out, I have been so much happier as a whole. I’ve kissed girls. I’ve made lovely friends. I’ve leaned to like the way I look, to find my lack of conventional femininity charming rather than a defect. I don’t regret my years in the closet, being safe is critically important, but I wish they hadn’t been necessary. 

For those who wish to remove queer books, I want to impart this; removing queer books teaches queer kids and teens that their first thought upon realizing who they are is fear, instead of curiosity, joy, excitement or happiness. And fear is a terrible thing to feel about yourself. 

And to queer kids out there, especially trans kids: I’m sorry the world has not learned it’s lesson. I’m sorry people are telling you what they told me, if not worse. There is nothing wrong with you. Don’t feel rushed to escape the closet if it isn’t safe to do so: the world will wait for you. 

Happy Pride. We aren’t going anywhere.

#iz rambles #homophobia #transphobia #book bans #lbgta #happy pride

[slickshoesareyoucrazy]

Treating Illusions As Real in "Friendship"

Since there are only like 10 people here who I feel like I can definitely trust (at least as far as letting them read the shit I'm thinking about for real on a Still Mostly Anonymous Platform), I think I'm going to use the blog for a bit as a therapy journal. I'm working on coming to terms with how many 'friendships' I've had and nurtured and poured time and effort and love into in my life that weren't real.

The girl I'm going to write about today, I don't think it's necessarily fair of me to call her friendship fake, because I think she's lived a lot of life that makes her so damaged and hungry for a sense of belonging herself that she's been drawn into some shady things and bad decisions from peer pressure.

I befriended R in first grade. She lived in my neighborhood (well...my grandparents' neighborhood) and went to my church and was in my class at school. As an elementary school kid, we weren't fully formed people yet, and all of us just wanted to belong and make friends, so I didn't notice any difference in R than I did any other kid I knew. But in middle school, when I changed schools, the differences became pretty clear. R was the only real contact I had with my past in 7th grade, because she still went to the church my family attended. The nostalgia and desperation I had to maintain any connection to that piece of myself I'm sure is what fed the closeness I tried to build (and thought for years I had actually built) with her. Her parents kept her really sheltered and naive to the point of being in the dark entirely. She wasn't allowed to participate in normal teenage life like dances or sports events or competing on school teams or dating. She wasn't even allowed to watch PG-13 movies in high school. When we graduated from college, and moved into our own respective places on our own, I remember having movie nights with her a couple of times where we watched like...The Breakfast Club and Ghostbusters...movies she'd never seen because she wasn't allowed to. She was a 24 year old college graduate and homeowner, just like me, but unlike me, she had no social life experiences or shared cultural frame of reference with her peers. Like...I'm a pathological introvert who is probably undiagnosed on the spectrum, but at least when someone talks about Michael Jordan or Nirvana or Back to the Future, I know what the fuck they're saying.

Because of this lack of socializing with peers and even having the same reference points, as a young adult, she was behind, and desperate to catch up and find a place she could fit into. We grew up Catholic, which is already a fairly restrictive, guilt-laden religion to be raised inside, but my friend left the Catholic church for the built in social life that came with evangelical Christianity. While it comes with a lot of social outlet included, it's also MORE socially restraining than the Catholicism I grew up with (no one got upset if you drank or gambled a little...shit, that's a church festival; you were allowed to read and watch movies and listen to music and dance to it if you wanted...you were allowed to date, at least in a hetero way...) And she got involved with multiple MLMs. And CrossFit. She made the dating mistakes the rest of my friends, and even borderline totally asexual me made in middle and high school in her mid-20s. We remained (I thought at the time at least) friends through all of this. I invited her to my wedding (she didn't come; along with most of the other 'friends' I invited to my wedding, except for the folks I saw at work every day, and they probably only came for free beer and so they could still look me in the eye when I got back to work from our honeymoon). She made some very unsound financial decisions (out of character for her) driven by desperation for social connection, and J and I tried to help her with budgeting; J even did some repair and electrical work for her for free to help her out when our son was small.

And then, even through 30ish years of knowing each other, and dabbling in a lot of groups that have some cultish traits, and her not showing up for me on some pretty big occasions (wedding, new house, baby...), but showing up to things where she could try and book MLM parties or mingle with other people who felt like Being Christian or Going To The Gym was their identity, she's the friend who called J at work when I left BookFace, to ask why I'd 'gone off the deep end.' She's one of many people who became instantly distanced from me once the effortless (and I don't mean that in the good way) connection of social media was gone. But when my son was in third grade, right after I broke my leg, she called me on the phone (which I hate, honestly, and I'd think after 30ish years of knowing me, she'd know that) and straight up tried to recruit me in her latest group. It emphasized how wrong homosexuality and sex outside heterosexual marriage were (she was still not married at the time and blamed homosexuality and porn for this somehow). And she told me that I needed to 'literally embrace' racists and sexists to show them I believed they were valuable people with something to contribute, and that would magically make them no longer hateful. That was early in 2017, and I haven't spoken to her since. I legit wonder if she's in an actual cult now; I'm pretty sure she was trying to actually recruit me to one on that last phone call.

But then social anxiety tells me all I ever was to her was someone to use...her parents would let her connect to me because of church when we were young; I supplied those movies she never saw and music she never got to hear; I bought makeup I didn't wear from her and helped her when she was in trouble. But when I left social media, I definitely wasn't worth any more effort than passively staring at her phone to maintain the connection, and when a group told her if I didn't join them with her, I was permanently expendable from her life...she cut me loose.

So often in my life, 'friends' disappear once I set a boundary. One boundary. Any boundary. This one was I'm not going to hug racists and join your purity cult. But other ones have been I'm not going to reblog your stuff as soon as you post it. I'm not going to dogsit for you over Thanksgiving weekend. I don't want to come to a party with this person you know has hurt me. I'm not going to emotionally abuse or abandon this other person because you want me to. I don't want to constantly talk about what drives your anxiety when you claim you can't talk about anything else at all to alleviate mine. I asked you for some time before we talked about this if I could talk about it at all and you continued to pressure me to talk about it so I told you that hurt me.

I mean...i feel like most people in my life don't let me have boundaries. Whenever I set one, they bail. We're good as long as I'm effortless and undemanding and willing to cater to them, but I'm talking ONE boundary...and they're out. Or at least twice, they've done something sadistic and cruel to me first. It makes me wary to set them inside most connections, but it makes me even more wary to try to make connections with other people at all. I often feel like the same little shy girl who's always felt different, because I feel used a lot for whatever gifts I can offer another person, and then they don't stay if I can't keep giving whenever they want. That hurts. And not the first friend up there ^^^, or so many others who have left, but the last two really painful exits were also full of lies. That hurts worse.

I always latch onto pieces of fiction and songs that express my feelings for me when my own words are failing, and there's this quote from Markus Zusak's The Book Thief that has stuck with me since the first time I read it:

"***A DEFINITION NOT FOUND IN THE DICTIONARY*** Not leaving: an act of trust and love, often deciphered by children."

I think I've always been seeking trust and love in a childlike way, because all I really want is someone to not leave. I have one friend who only left once, for a little while. And I have J, who's never left since he showed up the first time, not even once. So far, everyone else has. Or maybe most of them were never even there.

#I know not every relationship lasts forever in your life; I'm not totally delusional about real life #but wow it just seems like so many people find it so easy to leave connection with me if I'm not making most of the effort #I don't think I've ever had a relationship other than J and A where it was even close to even effort

[empress-of-snark]

Tag game!

What book are you currently reading?

I recently found a book called Harry Potter and Philosophy at a thrift store a week or so back and though I’m only a few pages in, I’m interested to read more. It’s from a series where different writers examine philosophical questions and theories through the lens of pop culture. I’m no philosopher, but I am and always have been an HP fan, so I think this’ll be an informative read! Also on the docket is the second book in the Shadow and Bone series and A Discovery of Witches (another thrift store find).

What’s your favorite movie you saw in theaters this year?

It’s a very close tie between Spiderman: No Way Home and See How They Run. Spiderman was fun for a lot of nostalgic reasons (having grown up with Tobey Maguire’s version, it was very emotional seeing him wear the suit again), and I loved See How They Run as a fan of zany murder mysteries and Agatha Christie.

What do you usually wear?

I am a big believer in rompers (are they still in style??), sweaters, leggings, flannel shirts, and denim jackets. Not all at once, of course.

How tall are you?

5’ 5”

What’s your star sign?

Sagittarius

Do you go by your name or your nickname?

Usually my name, but certain people have their own nicknames for me

Did you grow up to become what you wanted to be when you were a child?

Tough question.

Job-wise? No (but there’s always time)

Otherwise… I think I’m getting closer to the kind of person I wanted to be. I have a few good friends who love me, I dedicate a lot of time to different creative outlets that I enjoy, and I’m more comfortable with myself than I used to be.

Are you in a relationship? If not, who is your crush if you have one?

I am single and honestly, I don’t really have a crush right now. Excluding celebrity crushes, of course.

Dogs or cats?

I like both, but my family’s always had dogs, so I’m more familiar with them.

If you draw/write, or create in any way, what’s your favorite picture/line/etc. from something you created this year?

I think my favorite line I wrote this year is from have you seen her dressed in blue? (chapter six): “He can feel the want filling his lungs, and he unconsciously licks his lips. Her eyes shift down at the movement, and her purple eyeshadow matches her dress, her headband, her shoes, and the bruises on his heart.”

When I wrote it, I thought it was extremely cheesy but I also loved it too much to cut it.

What’s something you would like to create content for?

I’m obviously planning on writing more Stranger Things fanfiction (excited to get to the Friends AU), but I’d also like to try my hand at a different show, maybe Only Murders in the Building. It’s one of my favorites, and I’d love to explore the characters a bit.

What’s something you’re currently obsessed with?

One of my Christmas gifts this year was a book of Halloween-themed cross stitch projects (never done cross stitch before). I started on one the other day and I’m having so much fun working on it. I’ll try to remember to post pictures when I’m done!

What’s something you were excited about that turned out to be disappointing this year?

Season three of The Umbrella Academy was such a flop. I still can’t pinpoint exactly what it was (the lack of dynamic fight scenes/music definitely had something to do with it) but making myself finish it felt like a chore. Dunno if I’ll tune in for the final season or not.

What’s a hidden talent of yours?

I can list all the states in alphabetical order, say supercalifragalisticexpealidocius backwards, and there are several musical theater songs that I know by heart (including almost all of Into the Woods, thanks to my hyperfixation in middle school)

Are you religious?

Yes and no. I was raised Southern Baptist and, since I live with my parents, I still attend church on a fairly regular basis. But I also recognize the harm that’s been done (and is still being done) by Christianity. I think it’s more the fault of religious extremists rather than the religion itself, but I fully respect people who have been hurt and left the church as a result.

I do believe in God. But I try to let it show through my actions rather than my words.

What’s something you wish to have at this moment?

Honestly? Right now, I’m pretty content. I slept in this morning, I’m full from a big breakfast, and I’ve got two days off from work to relax. I’m good!

Thanks for the tag @virevoltantes ! I tag the usual suspects: @simplyshelbs16xoxo @televinita @finnskeeper @kateschechterxthorwasmyfirstotp and @loubuttons

#personal #tag game #happy new year everybody!

[what-if-nct]

hiiii is it ok if i ask for some advice? im sorry im gonna sound rambly but uhhh i'm 14 and starting high school next year (which i alrdy dont feel too good abt haha) and my (overbearing asian) parents are going to send me to this private lutheran hs instead of the public one i was supposed to go to bc its more upper class and smart (?). tbh i was genuinely surprised that i liked the school, academic-wise, and i rlly liked that i had the space in my schedule to take more fine arts classes (i dont have any in my hs) but like the first thing the principal said to me was that i "needed to learn to be a good christian". a whole hour each week is dedicated to jesus and i just know my atheist ass is going to be uncomfortable asf. first, one of my best friends has a thing for jesus (he says jesus is too hot to be straight 😭) and i cant tell if hes joking anymore, and second, i dont have a problem with people who are religious, but i do when they are flat out hateful and harrassing people from communities they "dont agree with", and i just know the people preaching at this school are the latter.

also rn i am the *only* poc in my entire school, and i noticed there were a lot more asian students and students of color, so hopefully there'll be less kids pulling at their eyes or calling me slurs :D

anyways i not a fan of the fact that "homosexual behavior on or off campus" warranted for expulsion, since i am a *very* queer and bisexual individual. at my current school, i dont really need to hide my gayness bc no one cares, and my teachers are accepting (my homeroom teachers a lesbian lol <33). i dont think i can handle having to hide such a big part of my identity at home *and* at school :( too add to that i really suck at making friends, so being somewhere without people i'm comfortable with, my anxiety gets really bad, and i just shut down completely.

my hs is p rundown (like most public highschools are) and the classes are average at best, so idk man, im torn :( i dont know if i should suck it up and go to lutheran school bc their good academics, or ✨be myself✨ and go to p shitty school :/

i dont know what to do (or if i can even do anything) abt it i just dont feel too good about this :( you've mentioned you went to a christian school, so do you have any advice? even if you dont, thank you so so much for listening to me rant for a moment there <33 i really treasure you and your blog, atp you feel like the big sister i've never had. i love youuuu <333

That is such a sticky situation. Cause maybe you can try to persuade your parents especially since they'll be paying for the private school on top of college tuition in the future, it can be a huge selling point. I know that's how I won in the decision of beauty school over college it's cheaper. And christian and catholic schools are heavily based in religion like it's a huge part of it so if you don't believe in it it can be absolutely mind numbing. I actually didn't go to Christian school, actually wasn't forced to go to church as a child, I was like 11 and for some reason told grandma Christianity is responsible for all the bad things that happened in the world. Which is wild that I even was able to come to that conclusion as a child she just brushed me off. But I did go to church summer camp to be with my friends which my friend and I got scolded for holding hands but she was just leading me through the crowd of people. So that's still unfortunately a huge part of christian beliefs

the thing that really caught me off guard is the homosexual activity off campus can lead to expulsion. On campus like sucks but is expected of a christian school sadly. But off campus in your day to day life is like your actions off campus shouldn't be judged by the school. Like I can't wrap my mind around that. I think since you have a whole summer maybe look for more schools you can attend I remember doing this in middle school because my home high school was an F school so you could choose any high school within a certain range. You'd be really surprised with how many schools are around you I'm assuming you're in the us but I'm sure everywhere has a ton of schools. And look for a school that holds some of what your parents want and also your own values and needs for your education. And maybe your parents seeing you take initiative might be an extra point.

If your parents are deadset on it. I think try to make the best out of it as much as you can usually there's a group of people in the same boat you're in where their parents forced them to be there. Trust me no matter where you go you will always be drawn to those like you every single time. But if you do get the choice of going to the original public school firstly screw every single racist little bitch who does that to you that is horrid I am so sorry you have to endure that. People suck. But you can also learn extra independently I always did that cause I was a bit ahead of my class. But I really think researching more schools in your area would help you find the perfect school for you. I personally was in love with Waldorf schools they're more creative led schools and freer, I wanted to go to one so badly. So figure out the exact kind of education you want like a magnet school, charter school it doesn't hurt to see how receptive your parents will be to it.

I really hope this helped at all and I hope it works out well for you. And Awwww it's so sweet you see me as a big sister, I gladly be your big sister, love you too🌸🌸🌸

[jbis]

So I realized that you guys don't know about all of my lore so i'm gonna tell you guys some Fun Facts About Me (there's 10 of them)

When I was a kid I used to impress my classmates by ripping out chunks of my hair. I am not kidding

My brain works like a file system (think: files in a computer) and my emotions are categorized by hex code. An example of this would be #0800AF (unrighteous anger) or #D80316 (elation).

My dad met (and also got hugged by) Obama once.

(in the same vein as meeting famous people) I didn't know that Sufjan Stevens was famous until very recently because my dad has also met him and knew close friends of his. He was just some guy my parents mentioned sometimes who happened to make some music sometimes.

I started a "war" at my elementary school.

I was in a "love triangle" type situation when I was in 1st grade. Basically, I had a crush on my best friend (I haven't seen him for like 8 years), but he had a crush on my distant cousin who also went to school with me. It was a whole thing whatever. I also remember being VERY MAD at her for "stealing my guy". Anyways.

My "gay awakening" of sorts was Indiana Jones (played by Harrison Ford. I also don't know anything about the guy other than that he's hot, and I don't really wanna find out any more. If he's evil or something don't tell me).

My middle school used to do that thing where they give out "money" if you were a good student and you could cash them in for prizes, and on the first day of school I told everyone that if I got any I would just roll them up and smoke them like weed because "they're pretty much completely useless."

I got a guy expelled once. He deserved it.

The reason I stopped being a Christian is because the church kicked me out for being gay after they found out that I was flirting with the priest's son. I wish I could make this shit up. It also sounds really funny in theory, but it was really fucking traumatic actually. Holy shit. Anyways.

There you go, 10 SUUuuUuPER COOL FACTS!!!!!!

#yeah so uhh #are these things weird? i can't really tell #dude i was so.... interesting as a child

[amandaoftherosemire]

No, Thank You

TW: Religious trauma

So, a friend irl of mine is, once again (this happens all the time and I hate it), dealing with harassment from “Christians” and I feel feelings about it. (Btw, WWJD? Maybe not be a huge dick. Seemed like a chill guy to me when *I* read the gospels.)

There’s this funny thing that’s been happening to me for as long as I can remember. Since I was too young to read, I have been given “literature” explaining to me god’s great plan by Christians of all stripes and denominations. First, it started with my mother’s family. I can still remember the red script of the title against the oddly grained yellow book cover that said “My Book of Bible Stories” or something to that effect. It’s the McDonald’s color scheme that sticks with me, not the title, clearly. I would receive countless more books like these from that side of the family. Even though my mother, herself, had been forcibly ejected from that particular sect of Christianity, and had chosen not to return, still they sent me books, and letters, and propaganda, trying to, supposedly, save my soul.

The attempted indoctrination didn’t stop there. My parents put me in Catholic school in kindergarten, where I stayed until the school insisted that I be baptized and assigned godparents. My parents were okay with me exploring any religion I wanted, but my mother’s experience had taught her that I should be of the age of reason before I made any decisions about my religion. My mother was baptized at twelve, and she believed that was a mistake. She thought that she had been too young to know what she really believed and Young Sharon had made promises that Adult Sharon couldn’t keep. But she never prevented me from exploring such things. I went to Sunday School with a friend in third grade, went to the Wednesday afternoon bible study at the church next to the elementary school. I went to Catholic church with my best friend in middle school any time I stayed over on a Saturday night. I even tried again in high school, with some very odd evangelicals that spoke in tongues and really weirded me the fuck out.

Somehow, my little circle of girlfriends going through our obligatory weird girl Wiccan high school phase seemed less weird than the girl in the church sitting on the floor, two inches from the wall, laughing at it. At least, on some level, we knew the midsummer celebration was more about the slumber party than anything else. Jaycelyn, please stop putting your toe up my nose.

As I got older, I explored other faiths, other cultures. I dipped into Buddhism, read the Tao Te Ching to touch base with Taoism, was exposed in college to Shintoism, Hinduism, Islam. Nothing touched me. Until I read atheist writers, who told me that it was okay to not connect. That it was okay that I couldn’t believe what was being offered. That there was nothing after death, and that I could cope with that if I wanted to.

When I was young, my search through Christianity was an attempt to belong somewhere. And in this society, this culture, the easiest way to belong is to go to church. But I couldn’t belong somewhere when I was simply going through the motions, pretending to believe. After my father died, my search became more desperate, more about a search for meaning, a need to mitigate my loss.

After many years, I have come to absurdism. There is no meaning, and it is absurd to search for it. Let’s be absurd. Who cares? It’s not like anything matters so we might as well have some fun with this. For some this is bleak, empty and cold. For me it is freedom, joy and dread in equal parts. But I no longer cringe away from the parts of life that hurt. Because life is pain. And joy, and fear, and love, and, and, and…

My point? At no point did anything that anyone else did or didn’t do convince me to convert to any religion. The books, the pamphlets, the in-person visits, or the constant harassment and bullying all throughout my formative years, none of it did anything but show me what was on offer. I politely declined, because what was on offer looked sad and empty to me. A life spent longing for the next. Thank you, but no thank you. I’m grateful enough for what I have.

To be fair, the constant harassment and bullying by Christians has only made it clear to me that most of them don’t really know what their religion is even about, so I can’t learn anything about the universe or meaning from them. If you want to know why I’m not a Christian, ask yourself if you’ve ever done anything that might be considered bullying or harassment to try to shame someone into it. If that’s how you believe your god wants you to act, I want nothing to do with you or your god.

I am an absurdist agnostic atheist. If you want to know what that means, I’m happy to tell you. But if you want to offer me something else, stop. I know what you have. I do not want it. If you have it, and it brings you joy, I am genuinely happy for you and I would never want to take that away from you. Stop trying to give it to me. I. DO. NOT. WANT. IT.

I have what I need.

#tw: religious trauma #atheism #jehovah's witnesses #manda rants #personal