in which. . during a stupid college party, you find a piece of mind with a unfairly good looking guy, that ends up showing you how to have a proper smoke sesh! >_<
starring; plug! riki x reader
cw; mention/ consume of substances (weed, alchool) suggestive making out use of petnames like angel, good girl not proofread!
the second you stepped foot into the building you knew you choose the wrong fraternity to hit tn— your brain immediately replayed aisha words, and her suggestion of staying inside and watch some rom com you thought was horrible.
still, it wouldn’t have been worse than this.
the frat house, despite the announcement published from their instagram post signalling that the party would start at nine o’clock, smelled already of cheap alcohol, smoke and sweat.
just trying to pass through the hall felt like a mission, you had to dodge two girls who were currently throwing up their strawberry vodka near the persian carpet you remember jake mom had been bragging about and ten couples trying to make a pregnancy announcement in front of everyone.
of course it couldn’t miss the dumb assholes too.
you knew you looked good; black leather shorts with a studded belt, boots that made your legs appear even longer and a top that hugged your figure just right + silver accessories. still you would’ve had prefer is some guy didn’t try to grind against you as you looked around for a familiar dumb face.
after two whole minutes of searching, you saw him, and immediately walked up to your best friend.. who was already in another world.
“shiiit! you’re here!” jake slurred voice snapped you out of your thoughts, beford his hand wrapped around your shoulder and pulled.
you snorted, pulling him up slighty, amused by the fact that your best friend was already drunk off his ass. “what happened to you dude?”
“lost at beer pong..” you said while scratching his eyes with the back of the hand, the same one who was holding yet another beer. you took it from him, letting the warmth liquid ease your nerves as he walked you to his friends.
the sight that greats you were the now same familiar faces; heeseung and sunghoon busy trying to do body shots with two pretty girls, earning amused scoffs by sunoo whilst jay and jungwon were playing peer pong— jungwon was winning by a mile.
they all greeted you with a smile, offering you a drink while you helped jake sit properly. “you need to get a grip man.” you hummed, messing his hair up as they all laughed in unison.
“been telling him that!” heeseung shouts aftet he downed a drunk walking up to you, giving you a polite side hug. “didn’t even smoke yet and he’s shit faced. c’mon man.”
“ah fuck off hee.” he groans, getting comfortable on the wooded chair.
but your mind isn’t focused no more on how annoying jake is right now, or the thousands of body grinning against each other in such a small kitchen.
“who has weed?” you ask, and look— you’re not an addict never been, it’s just been too long since you had a proper smoke sesh. two weeks before you tried your seat mate cheap ass weed in a moment of desperation, which didn’t end up nicely. plus! your old plug had moved out, and everyone charged too much for your poor wallet.
still, you needed it. and you would’ve been okay with dropping some cash right there.
sunoo, who had been smoking a cigarette near by spoke. “riki most definitely, his room in upstairs. but good luck!”
“riki?” you repeated, the name tasting foreign on your tongue. not because you didn’t know who he was, along with the other five guys, he was jake closest friend, but you never had the chance to meet him.
sunoo nodded, swirling the liquor in his red cup mindlessly. “best weed in town i swear. just hope you don’t walk in him getting head.”
“ew, gross.” you said, earning a rough chuckle from him. “yeah, tell me about it.”
“jokes apart he’s not a weird, like jake or the others.” sunoo adds, and you swear, he wanted to say something else, by the way his eyes rank over you, but held back.
“then, i’ll try. keep an eye on that idiot please.” you say, hugging him before walking away.
— it doesn’t take much fro you to walk up the stairs, fixing your low waisted shorts as you look for him, riki. there’s a few rooms in the little hallway, but you stop when you hear some rnb (either pnd or brent faiyaz) song coming from outside a door.
you hesitate for a few seconds, realising what you were about to do: walk in somebody else personal space judt for some weed. you were soo deep in your thoughts you didn’t even realise you had knocked.
“ah, f’fuck sake” a muffled raspy voice went through, and without noticing, you straightened your back.
the door opens quickly, due to the harshness of his gesture, revealing a tall man, slighty over six feet, since you need to slighty tilt your head to look at him.
“i told you. i don’t know where your boxers ar—“ a few beats pass, riki face changes from pissed to confuse, when he realises it wasn’t sunghoon knowing at his door, but a brown haired girl.
a beautiful one too.
“sorry, i don’t mean to bother. but dunno told me you might have weed.. and y’know.” you start, the usual smoothness of your speeches dissolving as you take the man in front of you.
his eyebrows raise at that— you smoked? didn’t look like it.
and usually nishimura would’ve just closed the door in the person face, cause who comes outside his room asking for weed like that? still he doesn’t move.
just let his eyes rank over your body, from your boots to the curve of your lips and your brown eyes, before he shakes his head, muttering something under his breath.
“sorry, i don’t got much on me.” he gruffs, voice low and raspy, due to the blunt he had just started smoking and was now placed in the ashtray of his room.
you sigh in defeat at that, thinking about how he could give you that little he had left but still you give him a polite smile, “thanks either way. i’ll leave you be then.”
but before you can walk away, riki speaks. “actually. i was about to lit one, wanna smoke it with me?”
you blink, looking between riki and the slighty ajar door trying to think if it was smart idea or not, walking in a man room you knew nothing about just to get a good high. he noticed that. “don’t have too if you don’t feel like it, no pressure.”
that made your shoulder relax. “nah i’m cool with it.”
he let you enter his place, poison still playing in the background as you took it in.
his room was just a mirror of the vibe he radiated; poster of various music artist strached with old tape on the walls plus various ce scattered around his room. his bed was unmade, meaning he probably was laying in there until you knocked on his door.
the other side of his room was even more messy, clothes scattered everywhere, on the floor, near the desk— which, had all the things he needed; a skull grinder and an ashtray over a neat rolling tray, scatters on the sides there were many bic lighters, from studded ones to neon.
you let your eyes linger while nishimura plopped down on the bed, looking at you with a curious gaze. “y’know who dat is?” he said, lighting the blunt, the flame illuminating his features for a quick second.
“who doesn’t know who brent is?” you laugh, turning around, focusing your attention back onto the attractive man on your left.
he chuckled at that, amused. “dunno, girls these days like all that soft shit.” while passing you the blunt, making space for you to sit on his bed.
you took it from him gladly, taking a looong drag, moving the smoke from your mouth to your nose as you inhaled, letting the room fill with thick smoke. “nah, not my type of music.” you said, which made his lips turn slighty.
“you’re jake friend right, [name]?” he said aftet a few minutes, both of your eyes starting to drop slightly, your body feeling less tender then before as riki passed you the blunt once again.
that, you didn’t expect, for him to remember. and honestly? you felt a bit guilty, cause before tonight you wouldn’t have never been able to recognise him.
“yeah, how’d you know?” you say, unable to resist asking.
“he told me about you, said you were nice to talk too.” he started, letting his eyes drag over your face once again as he took another hit, the end of the blunt growling amber between y’all. “went easy about your pretty face tho.”
that made your stomach flutter, before a wave of confidence made through. “you look good too.”
low-key, you were undersolding him, but you couldn’t tell a guy you met just five minutes ago that his face was making you fuzzy all over. how could you not? his face looked like it was sculpted by the most greedy artist, sharp features covered by a few strands of hair, the caramel colour glistening in the room— and god, those eyes.
your straightforwardness earned a little cough from nishimura, the smoke clinging to hi throat for a secondo too long, not expecting you to be so.. upfront, still he appreciated. “thanks angel.”
the voice of brent faiyaz drowned you and nishimura in the quiet privacy of his room.
-
half an hour had passed, and both of you warmed up to each other, the weed helping the conversation flow with more ease.
riki found out you hated spiders, cold drinks and this stupid fraternity. you told him about your roommates, how sarah had the best clothes, and that she lends you her balenciaga city bag from time to time, or how aisha has the best spots to do graffiti.
and also, your high-giggles were very cute.
you on the other hand, learn how (kinda obv) riki doesn’t like this types of party, about his younger brother or his love for tattoos, all of them done in the span of two nights when heeseung bet 150 bucks he wouldn’t do it. so know he has four; one on his wrist, two on his torso, one more specifically on his side t the other in his back.
the now half smoked joint burns between his index and middle finger when you hum, voice slighty highed pitched then before, “i like your rings.”
your fingers brush against the silver jewellery without realising, analysing with your touch the cross ring.
he lets you, moving the blunt from the other hand, giving you more access. while you keep looking he lets his gaze move higher, taking in the way his salt lamp makes your hair look even more soft.
but then, you come to the fact that you were shamelessly touching the hand of a stranger, so you immediately pull back, “sorry..” you had, a bit embarrassed.
nishimura is quick with it, waving a hand towards you as if to say it’s okay, “s’okay, liked it.”
you both moved closer to each other after that, not needing to explain yourselves, the fabric of his distressed jeans brushing against your thigh.
your fingers traced his arm in silence, moving from his silver rings on his index and middle finger, to the dangly bracelet on his wrist, then going up.. up..
he looked at you with a boyish smirk, raised eyebrows, the weed making him more relaxed against your touch. you could feel the warmth of his skin against your finger tips, and despite how wrong it probably was, you couldn’t stop.
a few minutes passed in this thick warm silence, before riki spoke.
“have your ever tried shotgun?”
the question lingers in the air, your stoned mind taking a few more seconds than usual to catch up, before you shake your head. “mm, nah. not really.”
“why? wanna teach me?”
the question comes off more flirty than you intended.
but he doest mind, not with the way your looking at him, all red eyes and dopey smile. he shrugs, like the idea of it doesn’t make the hair on his neck rise. “if you’re up for it angel.”
then, he pats closer.
giving you the time, to choose if this is what you wanted.
so you move, turning so your back is not against his bed headrest,face to face with riki and those sharp eyes, his gaze is raw, unfiltered.
it makes you hesitate for a second.
he catches it, so he takes your wrist in his hand, and pulls you on his lap, your legs on one side.
you push him slighty at that, he holds his hand up. “sorry— hey! i said sorry.”
then, he holds the joint in his hand, looking at you. as if to say take a drag. you do, the room feeling suddenly warmer when you wrap your lips around the filter, holding the smoke there.
riki grins, red eyes looking back at you witj a quiet intensity in them. “just like that.”
“now slowly, you blow the smoke in my mouth.” he adds, leaning closer— you could see the slightest stubble on his chin that way. “got it, angel?”
you don’t say anything nor nod, just lean closer, slowly blowing the smoke into his parted lios, so close to yours. you’re not even focussed on the feeling of the weed entering your body no more, your eyes are locked on nishimura expression as he takes the smoke from you with a french inhale, waiting a few seconds near yours lips before pulling back.
“can i try it again?”
and he be damned if he said no.
but he couldn’t trust himself to speak right now, not with the way your soft lips where so close to his, or how he can feel his jeans getting tighter with you perched on his lap like this— all soft and high.
he just pass you the blunt, eyes locked on your lips, taking note with his eyes at the way your lips wrap around the filter, and how you inhale the smoke.
“you’re a natural. c’mere.” he says, voice gruff with smoke.
you follow, tilting down your head to pass him another cloud of smoke, this time even closer.
but this when he inhales, none of the two moves.
“i need you to back up pretty girl.” he hums, licking his bottom lip.
“why?” you asked, your heart thumping in your ears.
“cause i don’t think i can hol—“
and then your lips pressed against his.
you felt him inhale against your mouth, before he relaxed, taking the blunt from your fingers witj you parting away and throwing it in the ashtray.
his hands come next, finally touching too.
a warmth spread onto your thighs as he pulled you closer, while coaxing your lips open with his tongue. but then he stopped.
“you— you have a tongue piercing?” he asked, looking at you like a heaven sent sin.
“yeah..” you said.
he groaned, whispering something— prob a ‘fuck me’, before diving back into your lips.
he kissed like he wanted to make you dizzy, all tongue and teeth, but not in a harsh, repressive way.
he made you fell all of it, every flick of tongue against yours, the little breaths he had to take in between before moving right back in, while his hands kept kneeling the flesh of your thighs, making you squirm slightly.
you weren’t doing much difference to him; nishimura riki could’ve died there, in that shorty room if it meant he could keep kissing you snd that gorgeous mouth for judt a bit longer.
and jesus christ. your skin was so so soft.
“riki..” you whispered, lips parting against his, needing to catch a breath. it wasn’t a kiss anymore, just brething into each other space.
“yeah?” he asked, nipping at your bottom lip, while his hand moved higher, fingers dipping infer the hem of those nasty shorts you had on.
“i—“ you tried, words failing you when he buzz held his nose onto your neck, then your jaw, leaving a few kisses here and there.
he was definitely making you more dizzy than weed.
“shh.” he hummed agaisnt your neck, before leaving a sloppy kiss there, making your breath itch. “i got you angel, don’t worry.”
“mhm.” you sighed, tilting your head back, letting him play with you a bit more.
time dragged over, the vinyl ended a good ten minutes ago, and the smoke almost completely dissipated from his room.
but between his mouth and hands, you didn’t know which was deadlier. but you sure as hell couldn’t walk away after.
and he might’ve read your mind.
“think i’m gonna keep you here for the whole night, ‘kay angel?” he said as y’all parted away again, giving your mouth a little peck, letting you breathe.
“i need words ‘ma.” he coaxed.
“kay.” you repeated, while caressing the nape of his neck, before he stood up with you in his arms, locking the door off his room behind him.
𓍢 ⋆📖⊹ ˖.𖥔 ݁ ˖ you are reading: preacher's daughter
sjy x f.reader (corruption kink, religious guilt, smut with a lot of plot, sensitive themes, +18)
"in the early 2000s, in some small, rural town, your religious and restrained life collides with jake sim, who makes you doubt everything you know and want to explore more of the world"
wc: 19.6k (what was that honesly)
author's notes: hii hellooo!!! i don't want to go on about this any longer cause it already took me about a month to prepare this, so despite having very maternal instincts with it, i feel desperate because maybe ill never write this well again! lol (it IS that deep for me okay) anyways! i hope you can enjoy it as much as i did! and here's the playlist i used (i was heavily influenced by ethel cain)
tw: corruption kink, outsider!jake x preachersdaughter!reader, no use of yn, use of legal substances, religious guilt, religious stuff in general, heresy, slow burn, opposites attract, size difference, manhandling, heavy make out, dry humping, edging, loss of virginity, p in v, unprotected sex, belly bulge, teasing, marking, cursing, dirty talk, oral sex, clit play, nipple play, body worship (f rec.), guided masturbation, dacryphilia, talking you through it, praising, pet names (church girl, little one), some grapphic violence(? not btw the pairing tho), distorted feelings, a funny turn of events in the end bc im crazy lmao, intended lowercase, and english is not my first language!!! if i forget anything let me know juseyo!
"my children, look at your hands. are they clean? the world outside is a hungry wolf, but inside here, we must be like the immaculate lamb" you heard the pastor preach from the pulpit. formal clothes, shirt tucked into pants, the best shoes you owned, hair so slicked back with a mixture of water and styling gel that it reflected the ceiling lights. when your father's eyes fell upon you, you lowered yours, resting them on the restless hands in your lap. that week's sermon was not in vain.
"remember: your body does not belong to you. it was bought with a price of blood. any desire of the flesh is a crack in the temple, and through that crack, the enemy enters" the man kept his eyes on your figure, and it wasn't necessary to look back to know; your shoulders burned from the indirect exposure. all because he had seen the boy who tended the gardens handing you a rose; which, of course, you had accepted politely.
it wasn't as if you had feelings for the boy, but you also weren't used to receiving attention from the opposite sex - even the church youth groups were careful not to mix genders. besides that, there was the major factor of being the pastor's daughter in a tiny countryside town where everyone knew each other and nothing was a secret.
it had happened to lisa, a former high school classmate, when she had her first kiss and went to confess and seek guidance; she had come out in tears from the small room your father used as an office. that same night, he told you never to speak to or sit near her during services again. or when the late mrs. johnson refused to give her tithe, claiming she needed to pay for the entire family's burial plot since she was the last of the name; the following week she no longer appeared at church, or the week after that, and after, and after... until she was found dead in her living room armchair; your father refused to say why the woman had stopped coming on sundays before her inevitable death from old age.
you sighed when the church bells rang, indicating the end of the preaching. the murmuring grew, and most people stood up, greeting one another, talking about trivialities as they walked toward the exit. you refrained, going to help your father blow out the candles and put away the books. you piled the objects in your lap, heading toward the narrow back door, noticing out of the corner of your eye before crossing the threshold an unfamiliar face going to talk to him.
you arranged everything on the shelves, brushing your dusty hand against your linen skirt before heading back out. your father was no longer there, nor was the stranger, but you saw under the door that the office light was on, so you sat down to wait. if your mother were still around, maybe she would tell you to go talk with the younger crowd while she waited for him, but that was a reality from years ago when she was still alive. you pressed your lips together and sighed, settled once more in the front row of pews.
the silence of the hall made the distant clock's tick-tock echo loudly, and the amplitude of the empty space made the cross positioned on the small altar seem to triple in size. he was watching. even if it wasn't your father, he would know, and he would judge. he would judge your lack of excitement for religion, your little faith, your curious glances, your inadequate desires, and he would whisper to your parent what he should say up there, so that every word was directed specifically at you.
a shiver ran down your spine when the office door opened, pulling you out of your small trance. your father was the first to step out, holding the door and signaling for the other to follow. who was he? dark hair, longer than usual for guys, a heavy brown suede jacket over a plain white shirt, jeans, and leather boots. you had never seen him around there, or anywhere else in town. his face was different, handsome... very handsome. full lips, thick eyebrows, a large nose... and as they approached, you noticed how tall he was too.
"ah, you're here" your father commented, flashing a fake smile in your direction, indicating his anger hadn't ceased, even after everything he had said. you stood up on impulse; hands pinned to your sides and perfect posture, but your sweet, shimmering eyes didn't lie as they scanned the new guy. "this is jake, jake sim, he just moved in" the man continued, observing your stunned state and then clearing his throat. "introduce yourself, kid..." something deep in your gut urged you to be indifferent, to ignore jake's hand extended toward you. but your body spoke before your brain could rationalize. your name came out as a whisper from your dry lips, but he still smiled, squeezing your hand lightly, letting you let go first. he put his hands back into his coat pockets while your father looked at you as if your head had been replaced by a giant question mark.
***
after that day, jake's presence was recurring. more often than you needed, less often than you craved. he was different from all the guys you knew; those who were almost a copy of your father - clothes too perfect, empty gazes. yes, jake was like a reminder that the mundane existed, a reminder that not everyone believed in the same god as you, that not everyone prayed before eating or cared about going to hell over a bad choice. whenever you ran into him, he smiled in your direction - an upside-down smile that made you wonder if he was curious or just felt pity.
your father had said he was moving from another city with no relatives, trying to make a life in a different place, and that was why jake would live in the small back room of the church for a while, paying rent by helping with the restoration of the ceiling and some walls that urgently needed plaster and paint.
he seemed willing, never truly standing still, carrying buckets of paint, mortar, pushing the rusty wheelbarrow where he put all the tools and materials back and forth. one moment he was outside, another he stopped to smoke before moving on to restore some pillar in the main hall. and whenever you cooked, your father asked you to take a plate of food to the dark-haired guy; since your house was across the street and it didn't hurt to help.
whether it was simple rice and meat or pasta, jake always made sure to thank you properly, stopping what he was doing - white tank top clinging to his sweaty torso, stained with paint and dirt, hair stuck to his forehead which he pushed back with his fingers - stepping down from the ladder or standing up to receive the plate from you. "did you make this?" he would ask, smelling the food and then looking at you. "yes... it's simple, i hope you don't mind". he would shake his head and then smile wide before sitting down to eat on a low stool nearby. "i haven't eaten home-cooked food in months." he would fork it and take a big bite, chewing and nodding approvingly, "it's good, very good."
your heart didn't help, making your chest give an unexpected twinge that left you flustered by the compliments you never received. "you... have been helping a lot..." you justified, and after a few seconds of just watching, you would simply extend your hand in a small goodbye and turn your back, walking quickly to leave the place while your small fingers reached for the rosary decorating your neck, squeezing the pendant hard.
it was bad. it was worse than you could have imagined. and it got worse. the more you saw him, the more phrases you exchanged, the more you wanted to talk, the more you wanted to discover who he really was. you knew he had a car, a ford f-custom pickup in a faded red tone from sitting in the sun. you knew he liked jackets because you had seen him with several; you knew he smoked and that he didn't attend the services; not even once.
jake didn't talk about his family; let alone which city he was coming from. your father didn't know much more either, snapping back with a "why do you want to know?" the first and only time you questioned him during dinner. "just because... he appeared so suddenly" you replied with a trembling voice, hearing a huff from the older man.
as the weeks passed, the church took on a new air: revamped, clean. he had even taken care of the flowers in the beds - abandoned since your father excommunicated the gardener for the act of chivalry toward you - which now had small white and yellow flowers blooming. the ceiling didn't drip anymore when it rained, and jake had fixed the pews that had rotting boards inside. your father was grateful, you knew he was; maybe that was why he didn't force jake to participate on sundays. but whenever the service ended and you left the church, you could see him outside with a cigarette tucked into the corner of his lips, flipping through some book you had never heard of, sitting on the hood of his truck.
and whenever he caught you watching, he would stop, take the cigarette from his lips, and close the book, setting it aside as if he were dedicating all his attention to you for those brief minutes in which you passed by him, waved, crossed the street, and went inside; blushing, and with ragged breath. so pathetic that you felt stupid.
maybe he knew. or maybe that was very presumptuous of you. to assume he knew what he was doing to you, that your head was becoming so disorganized that even you couldn't name what it was, other than that it was wrong.
that was why you had started to pray every night that jake could find a real job and move away, asking that he be successful and move to a bigger city, far away. far from the church and far from where you could see him. and for that same reason, you would finish and go to bed crying because the words whispered weakly were never genuine. they were selfish and lying, and the angels would know.
one monday, you decided you would ignore him. that it was nonsense, that your lack of faith was dominating you and you couldn't go on like this. so, you headed to your nursing course which took place in the town clinic and which you could get to and from on foot.
on the way, you had seen him at a car parts store, but you didn't look more than enough to ignore him, letting him crane his neck out of the small shop watching you walk down the street. you had finished high school the previous year, and despite having taken some exams and sent some recommendation letters, you had never received any reply from any of the colleges; or at least that's what your father said.
you wanted to study medicine, and while you couldn't, you were content with the course miss marie taught in exchange for you helping with some patients during the week. you had already learned about sutures, stitches, wound cleaning, casting, dressings, and a host of other things. as a consequence, you ended up learning about medications and dosages and always heard from marie that you were an exemplary student and would surely do well in the real course.
and whenever she said this, a mix of sadness and joy formed in the pit of your stomach, tangling with your breakfast that you nearly threw up. you would never be able to go to college, not if you stayed here... not if you stayed under your father's watch, being swallowed by the monotony of this dead-end town and the church, ever fuller, ever more imposing.
when your break arrived, you asked to go to the bookstore on the same street and stayed there for half an hour, entertained with nursing and medicine books, tempting yourself every now and then and picking up some romance story to leaf through.
"love"
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ"surrender"
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ"desire"
the words caught in the air quickly as your eyes scanned the yellowed pages always made the hair on your arms stand up. romance wasn't something real. and the only true love was the one that came from devotion to the lord. men and women shouldn't touch for pleasure; that was reserved for marriage and procreation according to divine laws. but still, the words didn't disappear from your mind as you went back to work under the weakened heat of the setting sun.
"oh dear, are you back already? a young man stopped by and asked for you" you heard marie, stopping in your tracks, your body freezing, making you turn your head slowly toward her as she noted something in a small customer log, leaning on the counter. "jake! he said he needed to talk to you, but didn't want to leave any message" she continued simply, taking a moment to land her eyes on you and smirk at your pale expression. "you know him, right?" she knit her brows and you nodded before swallowing hard and heading to the bandage room.
what could he possibly want with you? what could be so urgent that jake genuinely sought out the place where you worked? maybe it was about your father. or maybe he needed help at the church. maybe he wanted to say goodbye before finally leaving after five weeks of living there and standing out from everything around him.
maybe he wanted to warn you that he would tell your father, that he would tell of the times your eyes lingered too long on him, or how your cheeks flushed when he smiled at you when you looked at him through your bedroom window and he was in the flower beds. your stomach spiraled and you leaned against the cabinet next to you at the unreal possibility, feeling on the verge of fainting.
air failed you and you grabbed your own shirt, twisting the fabric in your fingers and pulling -wanting the fabric to unstick from your skin for a few seconds because it had to be that preventing you from filling your lungs with oxygen and not a damn panic attack - trying to breathe deeply and not succeeding for long minutes.
you needed to tell the pastor it wasn't that, that it wasn't what he thought, that you would never think... that you would never do it! that you would be better, that you would pray more, dedicate yourself more!
when you finally managed to come back to yourself, you grabbed your crossbody bag and returned to the front of the clinic, asking brokenly if you could leave work a little early that day, which was promptly accepted despite the older woman's concerned expression.
"see you to-" but you didn't hear her, already on the sidewalk, quickening your pace.
***
you had never walked so fast in your life. the slight cramp in your calf was ignored until you were on your home block, able to see the high church bell from there, where you walked with yearning. your house had the windows closed, but the car was in the garage, only meaning your father was at the church. you threw the hall doors open, and the echo of the whistling wind vibrated against the walls. your lips parted and closed uncertainly as you passed through the rows of long pews, illuminated by the sunbeams still entering through the high windows at that hour of the afternoon. you stepped onto the platform, your low sandal heels sounding on the floorboards, extending your hand to reach the office door.
but just as you opened it, another person came out of there, bumping their body against yours.
"sorry, i-" you began, slowly raising your eyes until they met the dark eyes of the sim boy. you took a step back, squeezing the bag strap. jake closed the door behind him and smiled simply, knitting his brows when you stared at him as if he had two heads.
"in a hurry?" he asked and you pressed your mouth into a line, shaking your head. "really? i could've sworn i heard your footsteps all the way here" he said and crossed his arms, making his forearms with noticeable veins suck in your attention for an instant.
"i need to talk to my father" you managed to say quietly, looking away from him. "he's not in. at least, not here" he told you, turning his face a bit to analyze you. "did your boss say i looked for you?" he asked, watching you chew the inside of your cheek before nodding. "is that why you left early?" he raised an eyebrow and let out a short laugh.
"n-not because of you..." the phrase came out direct, more direct than you intended, and he was perfectly aware you hadn't done it maliciously, but even so, he leaned over and placed his hand over his chest, letting out a dramatic "arrgh".
"didn't have to destroy me like that" he joked, but your posture didn't relaxed. your free hand gripped your long skirt and crumpled the fabric; this didn't go unnoticed by him either.
jake straightened up and ran his tongue over his teeth, looking around before going back to watching you, measuring your small, trembling body in front of him. "did you come to tell your father that i looked for you then? wow... such a good girl, huh?" he let out in a mocking bittersweet tone.
your eyes widened and you finally stared back at him, parting your lips and feeling your heart hammer against your rib cage. "so that's really it?" he held a shit-eating grin on his lips now, just amusing himself, but when you took a step back, indicating you'd run from there at the first chance, the boy decided to stop stalling, reaching into the back pocket of his jeans and pulling out an envelope.
"the reason for looking for you was because this arrived for you, and... it seems to be something important" he handed you the letter with the college seal on the edge, pointing with his index finger.
the moment he spoke and you took the letter in your hands, your head took a while to process what that meant... or rather, what it could mean. you raised your eyes to him once more and he gestured to the paper in clear encouragement. you were feeling a bit of shame from the earlier exposure, but still... to finally have a response to the countless letters you had sent was truly exciting.
you closed your eyes for a few moments before opening the seal with erratic hands. your almond-shaped eyes scanned every detail, the sender's information, the college logos, the date, and your name written there.
"subject: admission decision and financial aid offer
congratulations! it is with great pleasure that we offer you admission to the class of-"
you stopped, not because you wanted to, but because your voice got choked up with a knot forming in your throat, making you bring your other hand to your mouth to cover it, unable to believe what you had just read.
your eyes were so wide that jake ended up laughing and leaning in to take it and finish reading for you. "thats awesome... like, with them funding a huge part of it?..." you stared at him, static. behind your eyes, your mind made a small movie of your life pass by until that moment. all the times you had worked hard on high school projects, the sleepless nights of study, the social actions that were always successful thanks to the church faithful. however, now that you had the result right there in your hands, didn't it seem a bit too much?
you remained quiet. the passing of time was just an illusion.
"what? you did not liked it?" the taller boy knit his brows and then you shook your head dejectedly, receiving the paper back and looking awkwardly at what was written. "no, i loved it. but... it's the furthest one of all..." you spoke softly at last, feeling your nose sting and eyes water, controlling the urge to cry in front of the other because so many humiliations in a row in one day would be hard to deal with.
"it's the chance of a lifetime, little one" jake added, but didn't force it more than that, resting one hand on your head and messing up your hair lightly. he didn't know exactly why, but judging by your earlier desperation and the not-so-gentle sermons the pastor used to give -which he could hear even from afar - he had some idea.
***
after the touch, jake had left you there. it had nothing to do with him anyway. you didn't know how much longer you had remained standing there; you only knew that when you left the church, the orange sky was gradually giving way to the black vastness of the night, while your father talked to one of the congregants at the front door. you had passed by them and greeted them politely, going inside and up the stairs to your room.
the week passed in the blink of any eye for you, your thoughts drifting far away. on the street you stumbled, at work you pricked yourself with scissors and needles, inattentive, earning your first scoldings from marie; you struggled to invent excuses not to eat dinner, preferring the pain of a growling stomach to sitting at the table with the pastor and having him ask about your day. and whenever you thought about sleeping to escape the hunger, the moment you laid your head on the pillow, you saw a crucifix nailed above the bed.
you didn't remember when that decoration had been nailed there, but you remembered once asking your 7th-grade classmates what they had for decorations on their walls. stars that glowed in the dark, band posters, original drawings, wallpaper - but not a damn beige wall with a single crucifix in the middle. wasn't it normal for a child to be able to decorate their room with... child things? wasn't it normal for children to be encouraged to have childhood interests? and the symbol weighed over you as if it weighed a ton, squeezing your diaphragm and making you so frustrated that you threw a pillow at the object, to no effect.
on friday, when you got up and went down for breakfast, you found the man there, with a cup of strong black coffee exhaling steam from the heat while he flipped through a newspaper. he didn't say good morning, and you breathed one out so quietly that the sound of the birds outside kept it from being heard. you served yourself cereal and milk, sitting at the furthest end of the table. he turned a page, wetting his fingertips with saliva, and you breathed shallowly, trying not to be noticed. too late. "make dinner today, and come down to eat" the thick, firm voice sounded, rhetorical and impenetrable. you nodded, even though he wouldn't see over the newspaper, and continued eating, swallowing with difficulty because you barely chewed so as not to make noise.
when you left the porch of the house, heading down the steps to the sidewalk, you were surprised by jake, who joined your walk.
"so... have made your decision yet?" he asked, hands in pockets, walking side by side.
"good morning... and no" you replied simply, avoiding eye contact with the taller man; looking at your feet walking in sync instead. jake sighed and then pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, putting one in his mouth and reaching for his lighter.
"do you mind?" he asked, and when you just looked at him for half a second before focusing elsewhere, he lit it, watching the tip burn as he took a slow drag. he blew the smoke to the opposite side. "you know those scholarships could give you access to a dorm, right? what's the problem with it being far?"
why was jake following you anyway? you rubbed your eyes with the back of your hand and shrugged. "if you want something that bad... why don't you do it?" his words parked in your head.
because james in his first chapter, verses fourteen through fifteen, said that each one is tempted by their own evil desire, being dragged away and enticed, and then after desire has conceived, it gives birth to sin. that was why you couldn't decide for yourself, choose your own clothes, or wear makeup; it was why you didn't choose the decorations for your room even though you were nineteen years old, and why you couldn't let your will make you cross the country just to study if you could still be useful here. but jake wouldn't understand.
"is that what you would do if you were in my place?" you asked back, giving a timid smile and watching him study your expression - he thought you managed to look even cuter with your eyes puffy from sleep - as he slowly pulled the nicotine into his lungs, holding it and then letting it out bit by bit.
"if i were you, you wouldn't be asking what someone else would do" he replied confidently.
jake didn't have any appointments downtown, nor did he have any business there, but he still accompanied you to the front of the clinic, where he watched you go in quietly without saying anything else. he finished his cigarette right there, throwing the butt on the ground and crushing it with the sole of his boot.
marie asked you to make a splint for a little boy's finger that morning. the little guy had sprained his finger playing basketball in his garage, and every time you even brushed against the needle with the anesthesia, his eyes filled with tears. he was probably afraid, you thought, even though he wanted to appear brave. "did you know the mayor said they're going to build a sports court in the central plaza?" you commented, catching the little one's attention and seeing him shake his head no. "i heard all the children will be able to use it; doesn't that seem like a good opportunity to make friends?" you asked sweetly.
while the child thought and began to answer, you quickly gripped the anesthesia and applied it to the site. "ow!" he furrowed his brows, finally looking down and seeing the empty syringe. "you... already did it?" he blinked, confused and relieved at the same time. "uh-huh, and you didn't even notice" you breathed. "how did you do that?" he stared at you again with eyes shining with pure hope. "secret!" you winked and then grabbed the materials to make the splint.
"she probably cast a spell on me or something mommy, i swear!" that's what the kiddo said as he left the clinic accompanied by his mother, who just laughed at the silly assumptions. your boss gave you a playful little nudge, liking how you hadn't stopped smiling at the situation. after all, you had been strange all the other days, and feeling a bit of satisfaction with work was a great reason.
"you really have a gift" she pointed out and touched your shoulder. "by the way, i saw you were accompanied today... it was the guy from the other day..." the nurse continued. "are you two dating?" she asked as if she were asking about the weather.
your eyes widened and you denied it repeatedly, squeezing the small bag where you threw the dirty gauze and discarded the needle. "he... we-my father helped him... he's a newcomer". "oh. well, he definitely looks like one" she breathed before leaving you.
when you were alone in the room, you stopped for a few seconds, looking down and taking a deep breath.
you wanted to be able to say that the joy of having been good for the child with the hurt finger had remained for the rest of the day, but as soon as the clock struck five in the afternoon, you felt the anguish of the inevitable approaching. you packed your things slowly and even waited for marie to close the entrance so you could head home. if jake appeared and offered you a ride at that moment to anywhere far from there, you would accept it; you'd deal with the consequences of leaving your father waiting some other time. but no one appeared, and you were alone to face whatever was coming.
***
the bath? it had been a rupture in time disguised as a cloud of steam that passed without you noticing. you put on your light, long dress - which reached your ankles - and combed your hair before going down to make dinner.
your house had never been very well-lit, but in the past, there were still photos scattered around, some diplomas, both yours and your mother's, but your father had made sure to remove everything that reminded him of her. everything. except what he couldn't: the memory.
the humming of the refrigerator sounded louder than ever, making your internal organs want to coil up. the sound of the fire boiling the vegetable soup to thicken the broth served only as a second voice to the discordant music in the kitchen.
when it was seven in the evening, he appeared. dress shirt, polished shoes, pressed pants, and hair no longer so perfectly combed. an indifferent expression that you never knew was because he was at home or because he was seeing you. you exchanged silent glances, and he approached the dining table, which casually sat under the only light source between the living room and the kitchen. you served the plates and sat down, joining your hands and interlacing your fingers, closing your eyes to give thanks for the food.
"heavenly father, sanctify this meal which your hand has provided. may this food give us vigor to serve your kingdom with purity and obedience. amen" this made you press your lips together; he never thanked the one who prepared it.
the clinking of cutlery filled the void in the air, along with the sound of moderate chewing.
"so what happened that you lost your respect and appetite this week?" he was the one who started, cutting a piece of bread to dip in the soup. over the days you had considered telling him, taking a chance. you were almost convinced it wasn't worth it, if it hadn't been for that afternoon... you had been so happy to help, so content to see the softening expression in those child eyes.
"i received an acceptance letter, for next year's class..." you commented quietly, without the courage to look at your own parent.
"and what about it?" he returned, chewing the soaked slice of bread audibly.
"i thought... with the money i saved, and maybe finding a part-time job, i could support myself there. it's a full scholarship" oh, he didn't seem surprised.
your father continued eating, feeling your eyes slowly rising to him until he stopped abruptly, dropping the spoon on the plate. "i thought we had put an end to this discussion. that you would take the theology course in the neighboring town and help me with the church. that is the path the lord has been laying out for you..." the words came out serious.
"i made so many applications and we agreed to wait for a year, dad..." you furrowed your eyebrows.
"i didn't agree to wait a year. i never even agreed with this college story. do you know how hard it is? the sins, the ambition, the selfishness in those places? do you know what it's like to be alone in a place like that? especially you, who has never seen any of it?" his voice began to change and he moved his mouth irritably. "that's your wish? to become mundane and dirty? to disappoint god because you couldn't resist to your inner demons?" he asked, staring, his fist clenched on the wooden table.
"it doesn't have to be like that! i would only go to study!" you defended yourself, feeling a bitterness rise in your throat.
"study? do you want to look at me straight in the eyes and ask me to believe this when you can barely keep your legs closed to the garden boy?!" you widened your eyes and parted your lips... how could he say something so gross and unrealistic when all you had done was accept a simple flower?
the first tear ran down your cheek stealthily, without you noticing; the others that followed, you didn't have the strength to contain. "mom would want me to pursue this..." your voice crawled, weak and trembling. but to him, it sounded like the worst of offenses, one that tore the armor he had created many years ago.
"repeat what you've just said" his tone was dark now, loaded with a veiled hate he felt for your existence.
when his chair scraped back and his body rose, you swallowed your sobs, looking at him. "dad, p-please... i didn't intend t-"
the impact of the slap on your face was strong enough to make your ear ring and your neck be thrown to the side. the welt immediately rose to the surface of your skin. the pain made you lose your breath, but he didn't care, grabbing your hair and making you look at him as he leaned down to be at your height. "you disgust me" he said sharply, spitting the words. "i pray to god forgive your sins, but you are helpless" and with that, he let you go, making your body collapse into the chair, and he left the room, heading to the second floor with heavy steps.
you hugged your own body while the crying was overwhelming, squeezing your eyes shut and shrinking back.
when times like this arrived, to whom should you turn? your father thought you were disgusting, and god must have had an opinion not much different. your friends were limited to the young people who attended church on sundays and occasionally went to the group, but never really got close. the rest of your family lived miles away, and unfortunately, you were foolish and inexperienced, just as the older man had said.
you stood up limply and put the unfinished plates of soup in the sink, almost letting the heavy dishes fall and shatter on the floor; you turned off the light and instead of going to your room, you went out the front door, feeling the cold breeze and the yellow streetlights bathe your figure.
you walked across the porch and across the front garden until you were on the sidewalk, starting to walk without a certain direction. maybe you'd walk around the block, maybe you'd go to the small park nearby and sit on one of the swings until your body got used to the sadness and the night went back to being like any other.
***
the tears still fell, less agitated, yet colder as the wind chilled them against your flushed cheeks. your swollen nose sniffled, and you pressed your lips together, dwelling on the words you had heard.
jake was coming back from one of the freelance jobs he had picked up at a construction site. in the pickup, the music played low, and he tapped the steering wheel every now and then, attentive to the dark streets of the little town that went to sleep too early. he would have continued if he hadn't spotted something. honestly, with that thin, light dress that fluttered in the skirt from the wind, he might have thought it was a ghost... a very pretty and well-behaved one, though. the boy smiled as he flashed his high beams once, slowing down and rolling down the window to stick his head out. "hey church girl!" he called, and your silhouette stopped. but when your face turned to him, the smile jake had died almost instantly.
he stopped the vehicle right there and got out in a hurry. loose pants held up by a worn belt, a stained tank top, a jacket - which he was already taking off to wrap around you - and beautifully disheveled hair.
"what happened? what are you doing here?" he asked, looking down, without asking permission to touch your face and make you look at him. you were a mess of tears, snot, and there was still that mark on your cheek that he quickly identified. you didn't answer, but when the gentle weight of the leather jacket wrapped around your bare shoulders and jake's thumbs wiped your tears, you looked at him.
"jake..." you called, testing the name on the tip of your tongue. that, as incredible as it seems, was the first time you breathed the combination of letters.
"yes? i'm here." his expression was one of concern. but how could he feel that for someone like you? whom he barely knew or spoke to; maybe you were so miserable that you really didn't realize it. "do you want me to do something?" he asked, shifting his eyes from yours to your cheek before coming back.
"no..." you denied. you could have pulled away from him, touched his wrists so he would let go, but you didn't. "i was just... walking..." your last shred of judgment made you speak.
"no, you were crying and walking without direction... that's not just walking. what happened?" god, he was so insistent.
"my dad... we talked, about the college..." you explained, and jake shook his head, squeezing your face between his large, calloused hands. he could picture what had happened; he wasn't an idiot, he knew exactly the kind of guy the pastor was. they were all the same, so good for the community, titling themselves messengers of god or some shit like that, using other people's money to promote themselves, spreading lies, taking away dreams, having disgusting secrets.
"i'm not letting you go back home today, sorry" the boy concluded, letting go of your cheeks and holding your hand, dragging you so he could take you to the truck.
without another word, he opened the passenger door and lifted you by the waist as if you weighed nothing, sitting you there and helping with the belt. your faces were close, but your eyes were too cloudy for you to see the details of the taller man's profile. you saw him go around before getting in the driver's side and sitting there to start it again; the roar of the engine breaking the silence of the street.
he didn't say where he was taking you, and you didn't ask either. for someone who fled from him as the devil flees from the cross, you were placing a lot of trust there. in less than twenty minutes, during which you had exchanged at most two words - with him asking if you were still cold and you denying it - you had arrived at a bar where the blinking neon sign read "jj's bar." the facade was nothing fancy; on the contrary, plain walls with some posters announcing live music and cheap beer, the light of the sign in shades of yellow and red making the mixture of colors bathe the cracked sidewalk.
jake offered you his hand for you to get out, and you avoided eye contact when you did, lips pressed together. when you entered, the atmosphere was strangely welcoming. a varnished counter with several stools along its length. floorboards of wood that creaked slightly when stepped on, tables scattered about, walls covered in posters, flyers, ads, photos, and tacky wallpaper in shades of wine and brown. behind the counter, a young man was drying some glass cups, and a large cabinet held various glasses, containers, and drinks. a pool table, some slot machines, a jukebox.
"jake jakey..." the barman spoke and smiled, leaning on the counter as you approached.
jake smiled, touching the small of your back subtly as if he wanted to reassure you that everything was fine; he also extended his hand, shaking the guy's on the other side. "my friend, jay..." he breathed and followed jay's gaze, which fell slowly onto you.
"and you, young lady?" he asked, raising an eyebrow, friendly. you breathed out softly and nodded.
"i already told you about her..."
"oh... so you are the preach-"
"ahem" jake cleared his throat and the guy stopped, staring at him and getting the message.
"well, make yourselves comfortable. for you, i already know, but how about you, sweetheart, what'll it be?" - jake rolled his eyes in disbelief at the blatant flirting – the park waited for your answer, but the only thing you could do was look up, searching for a menu... like in the diners, right?
"oh-i see... what's your age?"
"nineteen" jay smiled gently in your direction, shifting his attention to the boy beside you; what kind of communication was that?
you watched him grab a bottle from the cabinet and serve a glass halfway, putting in ice and tapping the surface in front of the sim boy before pushing it toward him.
you watched jake take the glass and gulp - his prominent adam's apple bobbing - wrinkling his nose slightly before staring at you. "what?" he murmured, and you shook your head, embarrassed to be caught staring.
minutes later jay placed a glass with a pink mixture and a little umbrella on top. "its cherry syrup with white vermouth by the way, that's the lightest i can do" he threw the hand-drying cloth over his shoulder and crossed his arms. you shouldn't drink. you didn't know these people, you didn't know your limit, and you were far from home, but the only thing you did was look to the sides, searching for any sign. a cross, a saint, someone... any sign that indicated you would be punished later.
when you didn't find one, you looked at the glass, closing your small fingers around it and testing the weight before lifting it to your lips. the first sip wasn't bad, the smell was sweet and the taste even more so, but at the very end the aftertaste caused a sting. both pairs of eyes analyzed you and you covered your mouth after placing the glass back on the wood. "it's good... different, but good," you said and saw both of them smiling.
"you don't have to drink it all," jake breathed and let his eyes travel over you. your body disappeared in his jacket, and you held onto the fabric of your dress skirt as usual. were you always afraid?
you just nodded... without much to say. it was the first time you had entered a bar, you were sure you shouldn't be there, but you didn't feel threatened. the music wasn't loud and it was pleasant to hear, making your feet suspended from the stool swing lightly while you fingered the sweating glass. "have things always been this way?", jake took advantage of the moment when his colleague, and owner of the bar, moved away to talk.
and you caught yourself trying to remember when was the last time your father had acted like a real father and not like a vigilante. "no... it's hard to remember, though... after my mother passed away, he doesn't seem to be the same person" you breathed.
jake looked down and bit his lip. he was terrible at consoling and it wasn't as if he had never had a girl crying in his arms, but definitely the reason wasn't the same. "and you never thought about leaving?", he continued and saw you sip the drink once more before looking at him.
"wouldn't that be selfish?", you returned and he knit his brows.
selfish...? the word made the older boy swallow hard, tapping the counter once before getting up from the stool and helping you do the same. he held your shoulders, placing your body in front of his and guiding you to one of the game machines.
"i don't know how to play" you looked up from below and he just smiled, taking a token from his pocket and positioning himself behind you.
"you don't have to know everything to do it, you know?", his voice had a soft and more relaxed timbre now. "you just have to want to" jake carefully touched your wrists, indicating where you should hold. the machine's crank and the colored buttons that every time they were pressed made the character on the screen release some kind of different animation.
the dark-haired boy was hunched over, his face next to yours, cheeks almost brushing, explaining what you could do. your brain tried, struggled to pay attention, but it was so much information... blue button to attack, his perfume invading your nostrils, walking forward with the joystick, the warm touch of his hands over yours, white button to start again, his minty breath blowing against your neck while he spoke... you bit your lip and confirmed when he asked if you were ready.
you watched the characters on the screen casting powers and trading funny blows. in high school some boys mentioned this. it was fun, although you didn't understand the rules. you did exactly as the older boy said, managing somehow to defeat the opponent. when the 'winner' text appeared there you smiled, but you smiled even more when jake celebrated, squeezing your arms and shaking you carefully, just drawing a soft giggle from you. "you're good at it!", he straightened up and pinched your chin lightly.
he spent three more tokens, letting you test other characters and showing you how it was done; proceeding to lose all the times and making a tired face when the last fight ended and the machine flashed ‘insert your ticket’. "okay... that was a first, i'm actually good, seriously," he defended himself and you gave a breathy smile, enjoying yourself.
when your crying was nowhere to be seen and jake's presence had totally overshadowed the night's events, you could finally notice him. black, wavy hair, a mouth drawn with a heart-shaped cupid's bow. there was something magnetically soft about him that made it impossible to look away, a perfect harmony between the sharp, aristocratic line of his nose and the warm glow of his dark eyes. his lip curved into a lazy side smile, the kind of smile you knew your father would call temptation, and for the first time, you understood exactly why people gave in to it.
you passed in front of the old jukebox and stopped, observing the varnished details and the little letters inside, showing which tracks were available.
"do you like music?", he asked, approaching as well.
"i... don't listen much" and even so your eyes vibrated at the equipment in front of you, curious, exploring.
"pick one" he said, alternating his gaze between you and the machine, biting his lip, anxious to know what it would be.
"i don't know any of these...", you denied laughingly and he rolled his eyes, putting the coin there and looking at you expectantly.
so many names, you ended up choosing the most different of all, drawing a little laugh from him. jake and you looked at each other while iris by the goo goo dolls started to play. he held your hand and took a few steps back, taking you to one of the more open spaces in the bar, before joining your bodies, circling your waist carefully, smoothly sliding his fingertips along your wrist, making you hold him by the shoulders, guiding your body in a slow dance.
your heart was galloping, and your cheeks were feverish, while your expression didn't hide your mixed shock and embarrassment, feeling your lip twitch as you searched for words and gave up ridiculously.
jake smiled from the side, making you rest your head on his chest. he accompanied your small body moving slowly with his, feeling a twinge in his chest when you rubbed your face lightly against him, sniffling against his shirt. your thin and small fingers squeezing so lightly on his shoulders that he was afraid the minimum contraction of muscles could hurt you. the melody swayed the pressed bodies, and for the minutes the music box played, it was just you two there.
even when the last guitar chords played, you slowly pulled away, staring at him sweetly. you wanted to ask what that had been - which would be a mess because not even jake knew - but you moistened your lips, pulling back your arms again, smiling awkwardly before hugging your own body.
"thank you...", you said softly and he froze, his eyes darkening even more, watching your body take a few steps back, testing the subtle distance; with no intention of really running away now.
the boy blinked slowly and as soon as you turned to go back to the counter he stretched his body, holding your arm and making you turn again. but when your eyes met, he took a few moments to say: "i would never think that selfishness is being yourself. i would never think that selfishness is prioritizing yourself" the answer finally came, making you fix your eyes on him. "and if it is, then maybe being selfish isn't so bad, right?", his touch softened, making his arm slide away again, but the electricity of the contact remained there, like a promise that this was only the first step out of your bubble.
and you could swear he was approaching millimetrically when jay's voice sounded nearby. "guys, sorry to interrupt, but, we are closing"
***
the pickup's engine finally went silent, leaving only the popping of the cooling metal and the sound of the wind cutting through the tall grass of the lookout. down there, the city was just a tangle of distant lights that didn't seem to belong to the same world you were in. a parallel world where he had dragged you to spend the night.
jake lowered the tailgate and helped you up, spreading a thick blanket over the metal so you'd be comfortable. lying side by side, the sky seemed larger than you had ever seen from the locked windows of home. you talked - as if in all those years the words had just been waiting for someone to ask and care - you told him everything and anything he asked, from your favorite color to the last book you had read.
you told him about the silent rules of your routine, about the expectations that weighed on your shoulders and about how you wanted to be able to do something without disappointing the people around you. jake, on the other hand, was a presence of mysteries and calm silences. he listened with an almost voracious attention, eyes fixed on your profile, on how your mouth moved and tightened when you thought, absorbing every fragment of your story to understand how you still managed to be so intact. it was fascinating.
"and you?" you asked, turning your face to him, feeling the early morning dew prickle your skin. "do you have a religion? do you believe in god?"
jake let out a soft chuckle, a sound that vibrated in his chest before reaching the full lips he moistened. he turned on his side, propping his head on his hand to face you. "i don't believe in that image they sell out there. altars, punishments..." he shrugged, and the glow of his eyes seemed denser under the moonlight. and at the same time his sincerity frightened you, it made you more and more interested. "i have my own convictions. i believe in what i can feel, what i can touch...", jake let his eyes slide over your body for a few milliseconds.
a shiver that wasn't from cold ran down your spine.
"don't you think god- that he would hate us? for being here? for thinking like this?" the question came out small, loaded with a reverential fear, and a guilt that was present for as long as you could remember.
jake smiled, dangerously docile. "god could never hate a girl like you" he murmured, his voice dropping an octave, becoming a dark velvet. "you're just so... pure"
the word seemed to burn, entering through your ears, circling your whole body and stopping right in your chest where your heart accelerated. you sat up on the truck bed, hugging your knees against your chest and hiding your face between them for a moment. the silence in the air became thick, and not even the chirping of the crickets was enough to appease your feelings.
"i... don't feel that way anymore" you confessed with a slightly trembling voice; struggling not to cry again since your puffy eyelids couldn't handle another round.
jake sat up right after, his movement being fluid and, at the same time, careful. he didn't look away; on the contrary. his hand went up to your shoulder, warm fingers contrasting with the cold jacket, caressing the fabric that covered your shoulder with a slowness that seemed to want to uncover what was underneath all those layers.
"look at me" he asked, pulling your shoulder with a gentle firmness so you would stare back.
seeing you like that - with damp eyes, parted lips and this readiness to let yourself be carried away - jake felt his stomach twist. there was something sickly and stimulating in the way you seemed breakable in his hands, even without him touching you properly. his desire wasn't just physical; it was the desire to be the one who would untie all your knots, the one who would see your chastity transform into something that only belonged to him, that only existed in his presence.
he repeated the motion from the bar, but now there was no one to interrupt.
jake kept leaning in, the space between you disappearing while the smell of mint and leather enveloped you little by little. you knew exactly what was about to happen and your mind sought your father's warnings, the moral lessons, the sunday sermons, the sins listed in old books... but your body didn't move one bit. your eyes closed, and you held your breath without noticing, waiting for the meeting of lips in a simple kiss. his mouth warm, contrasting with your cold lips.
this was your first kiss, surrendered so naturally to jake sim that it didn't feel wrong. his large and hand held the side of your face, long fingers getting lost among the strands of hair and his thumb caressing your cheekbone, a tender possessiveness that anchored you there. at the beginning, it was a dry, exploratory contact, just the warmth of the mucous membranes recognizing each other, a sensation that made your stomach turn from the novelty.
with the passing of seconds, the pressure increased. jake didn't force it; he just offered. he parted his lips against yours, letting the tip of his tongue provoke the contour of your mouth, a silent invitation he anxiously waited to be accepted. your inexperience screamed, but instinct spoke louder. when you finally gave in, allowing the tongues to meet for the first time, a short gasp escaped your throat making the older boy sniff in approval.
jake noticed your hesitation and didn't allow you to feel lost. he guided, dictating the rhythm, while his free hand sought your wrist with delicacy making you position your hand on his shoulder, encouraging your fingers to seek the support they needed to pull closer. with the contact firm, the kiss became needy, an urgency that seemed to consume the oxygen around, and a kind of magnet making both drag closer to each other; your thigh very nearly climbing over his leg.
inside your head, chaos tried to organize itself. memorized verses about temptation and severe warnings tried to emerge, but were immediately buried. there was no room for guilt when every inch of your body responded to his with a frightening intensity. morality was a language you didn't speak anymore. now, your brain could only process the tangible reality: the taste of him.
when he took his hand to your waist, entering the jacket he himself had lent you and you startled at the rougher and more direct touch, with lips peeling off his before seeking them again, jake pulled away suddenly, clearing his throat and taking his hand from there, laughing awkwardly and shaking his head. "fuck, i'm sorry...", he breathed low, not knowing for sure what he was asking for, but making you come back to the surface too, just as confused, blushing and swallowing the saliva in your mouth, biting your lip still leaning towards him. "you've been drinking...", he explained calmly, passing his eyes over the girl, the shiny lips, the straight neckline of the messy dress and exposing one of your collarbones, the breathing through the mouth.
he had been drinking too, but your courage to speak had been entirely spent with the seal, so you just nodded, turning your face away and settling better inside the jacket.
the rest of the night was filled with small talk, clumsy touches, and without you noticing, the sun rose on the horizon, making you realize that was also your first night away from home. for a few minutes, jake had dozed off by your side, the wavy locks falling perfectly over the sculpted face, his chest rising and falling peacefully, reminding her that he had rescued and sheltered her.
that was the problem, jake made it seem good to go against everything she knew.
***
"submit yourselves to god; resist the devil, and he will flee from you. do not let yourselves fall into temptation, my children. the enemy is always lurking looking for openings, especially in those of weak heart" the pastor spoke, the bible near his chest while he walked from one side to the other, but your head was far away. you were outside the church, sitting on the pickup with the peeling hood, stained pants and denim jacket.
when was it like this anyway?
jake sim was lean and sneaky. accompanying you every morning to work on foot - with an arm that wrapped your shoulders and a mouth that whispered idiotic things just to make you laugh -, picking you up and suddenly changing the path to some place you didn't yet know, whether it was a bridge with a beautiful view or some field. poking your shoulder when he passed by you just to see you looking for him while he moved away with a playful smile on his lips. he also threw stones at your window at night when you were about to sleep, and as soon as you looked he made a gesture with his hand calling you to come down in secret, without your father knowing.
the kisses and experimental touches were becoming more and more urgent. your cheeks burned every time he got excited and brought his mouth down to your neck, whispering how much your scent drove him crazy.
it was even worse when he grabbed your waist tightly, or pressed you against some surface - usually the small room where he was staying, at the back of the church, right after the sermon ended. but, he never went beyond, sometimes stopping when both were altered and breathless from making out, with hands clinging to the barriers of clothes or to the hair of each other's napes.
little by little the questions started to get more intimate... he no longer wanted to know about your favorite things, but about what you were curious about, or how much you liked his kisses, or even how much you were willing to go with him.
god, and you were.
you bit your lip, eyes widening as you noticed what you were thinking inside the church.
when your eyes returned to the room your father stared at you firmly for a few brief seconds before returning to talk.
you had even asked your former friend lisa what you should do days ago - during the youth group’s pause; anything that would make you stop incessantly thinking about the outsider boy.
both had talked under the stairs in a whispered tone that could only be interpreted looking eye to eye: "even the greatest of sins god is willing to forgive if you are really sorry" the girl told you, staring with an impartial warmth. "that's what torments me. when i commit this sin, i don't feel bad... i feel good. better than i have ever been" had been your answer.
how could you feel sorry?
the moment the bells rang, your feet firmed on the ground, getting up hurriedly and going to help with the organization as always. books put away, candles extinguished, and this time you even managed to leave along with the other faithful who crowded near the exit, talking and saying goodbye, it was when you felt a hand wrap around your wrist and pull you from among the crowd to the side of the church. jake looked around before holding your cheek and depositing a loud smooch on your mouth, taking a little note and putting it in the palm of your hand before winking and leaving without saying more.
you gave a breathy smile, feeling like a fool. your shoes brushing against each other while opening the yellowish paper to find his handwriting.
"no work tomorrow. we have a date. meet me at 10am, you know where", with a hurried heart scribble adorning the upper corner of the post-it.
he was so secretive and unpredictable, making your belly vibrate with so many butterflies. anyway, you ran home to call marie's phone and warn her about a persistent pain in the wrist that would prevent you from working the next morning.
***
the sound of closet doors was the only noise to be heard throughout the second floor at that hour of the morning. you slipped into your white skirt and donned the blouse with romantic sleeves before stepping into your heavy shoes over your socks. your hair remained loose and your backpack was slung on in a hurry before you left the room and headed down the stairs, running into your father halfway down.
"haven't you left for work yet?" he asked, stopping in his tracks and furrowing his brow.
"i’m late today... i’m on my way!" you dodged his body and finished the descent, heading toward the door to leave.
you couldn't allow yourself to be caught, and you knew he would look out the window for at least a full minute, which made you walk slowly, mentally counting to sixty so that the steps heading down the street would suddenly change direction, crossing from one sidewalk to the other, leading you to the back of the church where the pickup truck was parked.
when you opened the passenger door to get in, jake met you with a smile, unable to help but notice you had dressed up, letting you fasten your belt and adjust your shoulders and posture in the seat, oblivious to how he watched you, until you weren't anymore and turned to him.
"what?"
he bit his lip. "you look pretty" he replied sincerely, basking in your flushed cheeks and the way you shyly looked away. he started the engine and shifted into gear before pulling away.
"where are you taking me?" you asked as the landscape outside the window gradually changed. he had taken a road that passed through several fenced pastures - some with animals, others with trees, and even those that held nothing but a green vastness of grass.
"you're so curious. i wanted it to be a surprise" he said laughingly, eyes never leaving the road.
"that's not fair... you're always doing that" you retorted, though you weren't truly bothered.
"just know you're going to like it, hm?" you nodded, fiddling with one of the buttons on your blouse.
when they were about 3 minutes away from arriving, jake told you to close your eyes, grumbling playfully when you tried to cheat by squinting through your fingers. when he whispered softly that he really wanted to make it a surprise, you stopped teasing and kept your hands over your eyes until the car was parked and he said you could open them.
and even so, when jake spoke and your eyes opened, it was impossible to believe.
from inside, the passenger window - slightly fogged and covered by a thin layer of road dust - framed the flowery field like an old, faded painting. the landscape unfolded in waves of moss-green and soft hues of lavender and white. as the engine cooled, the high sun poured a radiant light over the vast space, turning the rows of pine trees in the distance into dark green silhouettes against the blue sky.
it was beautiful, one of the most beautiful things you had ever seen. jake laughed at how you suddenly stared at him.
"how did you find this place?" you asked before putting your hand on the handle and opening the door to get out. the soft grass cushioned your weight, making it feel like you were stepping on a thin quilted layer. you bit your lip with a childish giggle and looked around. there were some fences toward the side the truck had passed, indicating the property likely had an owner.
"i came here to fish one day" he said, passing by you to get something from the truck bed.
you took a few steps and crouched down, looking at the colorful flowers more closely. so beautiful that you were afraid to touch them and end up ruining them. "i prepared something for us today..." you heard him and turned to see what he was carrying: a blanket and a basket, making you furrow your brow in amusement.
"what is this?" you stood up and went over.
"well, you said you'd never had a picnic, so..." jake shrugged, playing it cool, even though he was hoping for the surprise to be good.
he did everything, from finding a spot to spread the blanket to taking several jars of fruit, bread, and sweets out of the basket, looking your way every now and then as you followed him with your hands behind your back and a curious expression. it was still so unbelievable that jake was even there, that he wanted to get to know you, or fulfill your wishes. he didn't belong in that place - the free way he carried himself, the hair falling over his eyes, the tanned skin, the calloused hands - he stood out from everything and everyone, a natural attraction, almost as if you were tempted to look at him and desire him.
you smiled compassionately before kneeling beside him and touching his face, making jake stop, turn to you, and touch your waist.
"is everything okay? did you like it? you can tell me if you didn't, i need to know..."
you didn't answer with words, but held the back of his neck and leaned in to seal the older boy's full lips, enjoying the warmth and softness for a few seconds, catching jake off guard as it was the first time you had initiated something like that.
he had a funny look on his face when you pulled apart, like someone who had just discovered a funny secret. "i really like it, thank you" you whispered, and he stole one more little kiss before pulling you to sit on his lap, proceeding to show you everything he had brought: strawberries, pancakes with honey, a bottle of coffee.
***
time by his side seemed to flow in a different way, a soft, warm current that carried you without you feeling the need to fight it; or perhaps, you were ignoring your internalized morality, because living was more important. there, in the flowery field with the sound of the stream in the distance, the world outside was a pale memory you didn't miss at all. you surrendered with an ease that never failed to scare you, but jake sim's touch was a constant invitation to simply be.
what had started as light play, between laughter and distracted touches while eating, shifted in intensity when his body ended up over yours on the picnic blanket; he had a hand on each side of your face, avoiding letting his weight fall on you, and his eyes minutely searched your expressions to know if it was time.
the seconds in which you just looked at each other were a heavy silence, broken only by the sound of birds and the wind blowing freely. jake leaned in, as a test, and began to kiss you slowly - an almost lazy affection for a day like that, exploring your lips without haste, without the urgency of excitement. he nibbled on your bottom lip and whispered against the sensitive skin how good your mouth tasted.
but the rhythm changed as you reacted. your short gasps and the way your small hands sought the back of his neck once more, pulling him closer, began wearing down the self-control he was trying to maintain. his hands moved up, outlining your waist and messing with your clothes, his thumbs tracing the path of your protruding ribs just below the curve of your breasts, while your legs tangled together, seeking more contact, more heat.
the mood was cut sharply by a dry sound.
heavy steps against the earth, the violent rustling of vegetation, and a sharp animal grunt of pain.
you both stopped.
jake froze with his lips still brushing the skin of your collarbone where he had been licking just before, while your eyes widened, your heart racing now for a completely different reason than the second before.
from behind one of the nearby bushes, the figure emerged suddenly, piercing eyes checking if you were a threat to its hunt... it wasn't the graceful red fox from children's books, but an animal with dirty caramel fur, rustic and opaque, eyes fixed on both of you as it crossed the field. its snout was stained a bright red, contrasting with the body of a small white rabbit it carried clenched between its teeth; the small animal still spasmed, an agonizing reflex movement that made blood run even more down the fox's jaw.
the scene was ugly, pitiless, and mortal. there, under the late afternoon sun and surrounded by flowers, nature displayed its carnivorous face, reminding you that life and death shared the same space - exactly like the innocence you tried to maintain and the desire jake awakened in you.
"don't be afraid" jake whispered, a side smile forming as he saw your jugular jump with the erratic heartbeat. "it's natural, it means the fox will manage to survive for a few more days... nothing more than that" and for some reason, he didn't seem to be talking only about the animals. the words didn't do their part in making you calmer; instead, you swallowed with difficulty, entering a complicated internal dissonance.
maybe god had ambiguous plans for certain creatures. maybe creation wasn't just about green pastures, miraculous healings, and benevolence, but about this silent, cruel gear that didn't ask before turning. you thought you weren't in a position to judge; after all, who were you to understand the logic behind survival? maybe these creatures had some idea of what their destinies would be, or maybe they were completely oblivious to it, living and dying without ever understanding why.
it was this perception of the frivolity of raw life that made your hair stand on end and your throat go dry. an existential dread creeping up your spine. the fragility of the kit was your own fragility. but jake remained there, his voice steady and his body still warm against yours, as if that carnage were merely the natural backdrop for what you were doing.
"it's okay to feel sad, though... but we can't interfere" he murmured, and the way he accepted it without looking away seemed, in a way, engaging, making you face him again with tearful eyes. "jake" you called, and he smiled, brushing the tip of his nose against your neck, moving up until he was staring back at you. "can we continue in the car?" the shy words left your trembling lips.
oh? he knew exactly what that was.
he understood that transition; it was the violence of nature, strange and inevitable, that, instigated carnal acts. it was the most primitive emotional escape, the one that seeks the warmth of life immediately after being confronted with the coldness of death. the type of surrender that is condemned by all doctrines, but is the only possible response to instinct.
even so, he didn't hesitate. jake held you in his lap with disconcerting ease, one of his large hands firm on your butt as he carried you to the truck, while you wrapped yourself around his torso.
with his free hand, he opened the door and tossed you into the front seat, onto that continuous leather upholstery that eliminated any barrier between you. as soon as he got in and closed the door, the silence of the cabin was broken by the sound of your small, skittish hands reaching for his face. you gripped his cheeks hard, pulling him into a kiss loaded with want, as if every second of waiting were torture.
the kisses were deep and dense. you both grumbled and gasped against each other's mouths, a duel of tongues and teeth taking place. when you sucked his full lower lip, jake felt a snap of urgency. he pulled away just enough to get rid of his jacket and shirt, one piece following the other, revealing the warm skin under the light filtered through the windows. you blushed, eyes trailing down slowly, leading your fingers in an almost experimental way across his six-pack, mapping the defined muscles before looking up to meet him.
the eye contact didn't last long before you went back to kissing in an animalistic and needy way. jake moved his lips down to your slender neck, sucking the skin with controlled strength, leaving reddish marks. his hands slid without haste but with intention, moving down your goosebump-covered arms, squeezing your thin waist and tracing your hips until they found their way under the linen skirt. the rough touch of his fingertips scratching your rounded thighs made your whole body tense.
suddenly, in an agile movement, he reversed positions. jake pulled you onto his lap, feeling the weight of your body on his, and parted his lips when you let out an innocent little moan that seemed to echo inside him, breaking what remained of his last gram of self-control. "fuck, babe, i swear i'm trying... trying so hard to take my time with you, but you're just so hot" he whispered against your shoulder, where the sleeve of your blouse had slipped down.
"it's okay... you don't have to right now... i want it too" his head was about to explode.
"say that again..." he asked, holding your chin and sliding his thumb across your lip.
"i want you."
jake felt an electric current through his own spine at the words, holding the back of your neck firmly and invading your mouth in a messy, lingering tongue kiss. his experienced hands unbuttoned your blouse and pushed the fabric open before helping you take it off immediately reaching for your soft skin, breasts held in the bra decorated with a bow.
he bit his lip before using a single finger to pull the cup down, finding your shy, peaked nipple there. his dark eyes, almost begging, stared at you and you nodded.
he captured the small point and sucked with intent, circling it with his tongue before sucking as if he wanted to draw something from it. he closed his eyes, concentrated on what he was doing, playing with the breast between his lips while one of his hands went to the clasp on your back to open it. when he felt the weight of the breast in his mouth, he became even more invested, hollowing his cheeks as he encompassed even more of the soft flesh around the areola.
when he let go of the nipple, it was red and completely wet, using his index finger to flick it while his mouth already moved toward the other. your low moans and the way your body shivered over his did nothing to help the erection jake had in the confines of his jeans. he bit the tip of the peak when you squeezed his shoulder and adjusted yourself in his lap, practically grinding there. he returned to your lips, but didn't kiss now.
"hmm more…" he asked softly and you swallowed, feeling feverish just looking at him. "w-what?" you asked confused, but furrowed your brow and looked down with a weakened expression when he guided your hips to grind.
"jake..."
"you're going to drive me crazy..." he gasped through gritted teeth.
jake helped you out of the skirt and his eyes stayed fixed on the panties you wore - they had some lace ruffles near the elastic and were completely transparent in the front, betraying how wet you were. "shit... look at this" he moved his hand there, pressing his thumb exactly where it seemed wettest, feeling your nails prick his shoulder. "do you even know what this means?" his eyebrows knit as he looked at you again, leaning his body until his lips were brushing your ear. "your body wants me so much it's preparing you to receive me... isn't that cute?" he licked your lobe.
but he couldn't just fuck you in the damn pickup; he might be whatever he was, but he still thought of your well-being - of the fact that you were virgin and delicate and that putting you against the dashboard while he stretched you with his cock wouldn't be the best of experiences... so the boy smiled wide, turning his head thinking. "have you ever touched yourself?" he questioned, keeping his voice low and engaging, waiting for you to deny it. "not even once? not even in the shower?"
"jake..." you pleaded, embarrassed; god, he really liked how your eyes got low and avoidant when you were cornered. he bit his bottom lip and tucked a strand of your hair that hung behind your ear, running his index finger down your jaw, neck, the space between your breasts... until he was near your lower abdomen.
"i want you to touch yourself for me..." he breathed, an order so soft it sounded like a request.
you stared at him lost, almost as if at a crossroads between accepting quickly and denying for fear of doing it wrong. "sshh, it's okay... i will guide you" and jake was making it so much harder.
your mind knew, even before you did, that it was wrong... he wasn't promised to you, you hadn't prayed together before, the pastor hadn't approved - or didn't know you were seeing each other this way - everything you shouldn't do or give in to... so why were you bringing your hand down there? why were your lips trembling when your fingers felt the moisture of the soaked fabric?
"uh uh... inside the panties" jake corrected, pulling the elastic of the undergarment so you could slide your hand inside. "describe what you're feeling for me..."
pressing your lips together, wavering and closing your eyelids trying to concentrate, your fingers wandered through your folds, feeling them slippery. there was the entrance, where a portion of lubrication literally wet your phalanges, and when it moved up... right there, hidden and sensitive, was your point of nerves, pulsing. "say it, baby..." jake implored, pressing his forehead to yours.
"i-it's soft... and squishy. and it's so hot, jake... please..." your eyes met his closely now. he gave a breathy smile.
"do you feel that spot?" he asked, ignoring your plea for help.
“y-yes"
"good... rub it for me... slowly" he almost whispered, pulling away from you again and looking down. if the sight of your flushed cheeks, peaked nipples, and contracting stomach didn't make him come in his own pants, he would be fine.
jake noticed when your posture became more restless, when your hips began to involuntarily seek more pressure. "now slide your fingers down slowly... it's so messy, right? you're a messy girl..." he said, his raspy voice being the only thread keeping you connected to reality. "try to put a finger inside."
as soon as the digit slipped into the damp slit, a loud, labored moan escaped your lips. in the next minute, the weight of reality crashed down on you; shame hit you like a punch and you tried to stop, withdrawing your hand while staring at him with tearful eyes, seeking some kind of exit from a situation so intimate, so embarrassing.
"did i say to stop?" his tone changed, becoming firmer, almost authoritative, clicking his tongue and letting a sliver of his impatience show through. before you could pull away, he grabbed your wrist, keeping your hand exactly where it was, preventing your escape. the eye contact was intense, unbreakable. "try putting a second one in..." he suggested, his voice laced with a risk that made your heart race wildly.
you pouted, feeling the unusual fullness, and slowly shook your head, your voice failing as you said it wouldn't fit, that it was too much for you... jake let out a low sss, throbbing inside his underwear. "that's because you're so tight, my love" he whispered against your ear. "go back to rubbing your little clit... a bit more strength now, hm? i promise it'll be good..." he ordered and, almost instantaneously, you obeyed.
the speed with which you followed the command, despite the shame and previous hesitation, made jake's blood boil. fuck, - like a trained little bitch, he thought - dark eyes fixed on the scene of your hand moving under his words. it was, without a doubt, one of the best things he had ever witnessed.
jake leaned over and once again captured one of your stiff peaks in his mouth, sucking noisily while his other hand squeezed the neglected one. you, on the other hand, strove to follow his orders, feeling your body react in a completely new way as you used two fingers to excite your clitoris, brushing your palm slightly against your pubis; which caused a soft, prickly sensation.
your eyes rolled back and your hips moved again by impulse, making the boy attentive as he purposefully raised his hips higher, letting not only the pressure of your fingers hit you, but also the firm elevation he had there.
the contained moans from before filled the pickup, becoming more drawn out, less controlled, and jake knew you would come at any moment... you were going to come from masturbating and grinding against him, holy shit. and when your small body spasmed several times in a row, jake let go of your breast and grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand out of your panties, hearing an audible groan from you. your erratic hips took a moment to stop, almost as if your arousal was enough to make them move alone.
you looked at him with literal tears in your eyes, puffing your cheeks slightly and grunting at the slightest movement.
"aawn... don't make that face. i know, i know... sshh" he hugged you slowly, stroking your hair and your back before placing a tender kiss on your forehead. "you were so good to me...", and the words of affirmation were somehow enough to appease a void you had felt for a long time, making you sob as you nodded, allowing yourself to sink into his embrace.
***
living around jake was consuming you. it was a slow, silent process, like a tide that rises without warning until the sand beneath your feet completely disappears. he occupied you in such a way that your thoughts orbited the idea of him almost twenty-four hours a day; the memory of how he teased you, of how he left you waiting on the edge of something you didn't yet fully understand.
and in the quiet of your room, you thought that maybe he was right. maybe the guilt was yours for still being a virgin, for being this burden of glass he had to carry so carefully.
gradually, the pillars that supported your life began to give way. principles that were once non-negotiable now felt like clothes that no longer fit. at work, your attention wandered; in the church youth groups, the sacred vocabulary felt strange in your mouth. sunday services became short, rushed, while the time you spent alone, discovering your own body, increased.
you prayed less and touched yourself more. dreams became vivid, dense, and you woke up sweaty and aroused more often than you could - or wanted to - remember.
the pastor was the first to notice the spark in your eyes. then came the others. marie, your boss, commented on the change while you hummed, without realizing, a melody you had heard in his car during a drive. "you've been cheerful... different," marie said with a half-smile. although your body stiffened for a millisecond, you turned and smiled, nodding. "oh... what is it then? a boy?"
you felt the blood rush to your cheeks, but the answer came with a clarity that surprised you. "he's not a boy."
jake was a man, an idea, a new doctrine that you embraced with the same blind devotion with which you had worshiped god and the holy spirit all those years.
but the ecstasy didn't last forever.
on a thursday afternoon, upon arriving from work, the expectation of going up to your room and losing yourself in thought was cut like a razor wire. your father was sitting on the stairs, his dark silhouette against the dim light. "dad!" you exclaimed, your heart giving a troubled jolt.
"where did you leave your bible last?"
the direct and raw question tore through the atmosphere. time stopped for a few seconds; the breeze coming through the window seemed to blow out all the candles of your security and the evening sun no longer warmed the room of the townhouse.
"i-i always leave it on the dresser... when we get back from service on sunday... it's always there," you breathed, your voice small, feeling your brow furrow in an instinctive defense.
you should read it every day. without exception.
"right. and have you been talking to god every day?" he turned his head slightly, eyes fixed on yours, making the saliva go down heavy in your throat in an audible gulp.
"yes, dad," you nodded, averting your gaze to the floor.
he stood up. the heavy steps against the wood of the stairs echoed like sentences. a bitter, almost suffocating energy emanated from him as he walked toward you. you closed your eyes, stiffening your shoulders waiting for the impact of the slap you already knew, but it didn't come. instead, he stretched out his arm, taking the object that had been hidden behind him and shoved it against your chest, curling his lips in deep disgust.
"and why was your bible forgotten at church until this morning? can you answer me that?" you looked down. the heavy book, with its dark cover, seemed to burn in contact with your skin, as if the paper were on fire. your lips stayed parted, but no words came out. there was no answer. there was no excuse. "that's what i thought," your father breathed low.
the silence that followed between you and your father wasn't one of peace, but of a suffocating stagnation, where every second seemed to weigh pounds on your shoulders. he watched you with a cold pity, the kind the saints reserve for the damned before the pyre. "woe to those who call evil good, and good evil; who put darkness for light, and light for darkness" he quoted, his voice monotonous and deep echoing through the walls of the townhouse. "light cannot be given to the blind, daughter. you are too innocent to understand your own situation, to see the abyss that opened beneath your feet while you smiled."
he paused, lips narrowing into a line.
"he's already gone, for your information. left this morning. the church has been repaired, the bills have been paid... there's nothing for him to do here anyway."
your heart, which had been galloping, simply froze. air refused to pass through your throat, as if your lungs had turned to stone.
"what are you talking about?" you questioned him in a whisper, taking an instinctive step back, the bible still weighing between your fingers like a corpse.
"you know who i'm talking about. don't think you've been sneaky"
you shook your head, a frantic movement. brow furrowed, your mind screaming that it was a lie - not that he knew. damn it if he knew, actually. and before he could finish the sentence or utter any other judgment, you spun on your heels and rushed out of the house. the bible fell somewhere on the front lawn and your legs moved restlessly. you crossed the yard, invaded the street ignoring the cars and the asphalt under your feet, hurriedly crossing to the church grounds.
your lungs burned when you reached the small cabin in the back. in the last few weeks, jake had transformed that place. he had built a table with his own hands, installed lights that made the environment cozy, put up posters that spoke of a world you only knew through his eyes. there were shelves full of books and a closet... the closet he filled with his jackets.
but when you flung the small door open, the emptiness hit you like a physical punch.
everything was clean. impersonal. not a single trace of him remained; not a strand of hair, not the smell of mint and leather, nothing. you flipped the lights on frantically, hands trembling as you searched under the perfectly made bed, looking in the corners, on top of the furniture... seeking any sign, a note, a forgotten game token, anything that proved your father was just trying to scare you. you checked the small bathroom and only saw the shower curtains pushed to the corner, the bathtub dry underneath.
the little room held only the parish toolbox, a few boards leaning against the wall, and a small bench. the space he had built to live in had been dismantled as if it had never existed. it was exactly as you had asked in your prayers when you first met him... it was exactly what you had said in the sensitive words you prayed those nights, and now you blamed yourself because, of all your requests, god had chosen that one to fulfill. "n-no...", the crying that was forming, filling your eyes with tears and making your cheeks turn red, broke loose and you sat on the bed that held only the thin mattress.
you brought both hands to your neck as a long, drawn-out, tearful guttural scream left you, feeling your vision blur as tears began to stream down your face. maybe this was the punishment for sinning, for not following the rules, for being a deviant soul... and it hurt so, so much... even when you tried to breathe properly, hunching over with your chest burning and crying even more, copiously.
but suddenly, the pain of loss was replaced by an incandescent rage, something that boiled in your blood and transformed you into someone else, someone irrational and fierce. you stood up and with all the strength you had in your being, you went back breathless to the house, invading the living room where your father was still waiting for you.
you lunged at him like a wounded animal. possessed, you tried to scratch his face, fingers curved into claws. your father grabbed you by the shoulders tightly, trying to contain the explosion of fury emanating from you, a strength you never knew you possessed.
"i hate you! what did you do! you damn man! i hate you!", the words came out choked, yelled.
"you were being consumed by evil! it was for the best!" he growled, his voice trying to overcome your screams and his strong arms holding your thin wrists. you were no longer the obedient daughter. you grunted, the sound coming from deep in your throat, a primitive noise of pain and hate.
"you sent him away! it's your fault! yours!" you screamed, fighting against his grip, the world collapsing while jake was the only thing that could save you.
"look at you, daughter, look at how you are. do you think this is normal? do you think god would approve of something like this?" he questioned, and the mention of divinity only left you more unhinged.
"stop talking about that! i don't care anymore! i hate all of it! i never truly liked it..! god, angels... i don't want any of it anymore! you took everything i wanted! everything! i hate you!", and as the words were uttered, hate gave way to sorrow and your knees buckled, making your body collapse to the floor, hitting your knees on the floorboards.
when the pastor let you go, your wrists fell as if they were heavy, limp sacks beside your hunched body that was still crying, making the drops of salt water wet the wooden floor below you. he was astounded, horrified. your father took a step back, averting his eyes for a few seconds as he himself had difficulty dealing with watery eyes, running his hand over his temple before sighing.
"i feel sorry for you... i fear you are unpunishable... perhaps, there truly is no place for you beside the lord" the bitter words cut his throat before he walked away with long strides.
***
how many days had passed?
three? five? ten?
you didn't know. your room remained the same, the house remained the same, and that was all you had been seeing since then. refusing to go on with your monotonous routine. too guilty to set foot outside the house, afraid of how they would look at you, what they would think, in that damn town of five thousand people.
and you were wrong before; it wasn't jake's presence that corrupted you - your own inner demons did that. you didn't fit salvation either way.
sometimes, your father would come to call you at the door, receiving only the sweet sound of your silence from the other side as an answer. you took your baths and ate when he wasn't around or when you knew he was going to sleep. if you were wrong and if god judged you for it, then so be it... let him watch while you worship your own ruin.
the night was terribly calm.
lying on the floor, staring at the beige ceiling of the room didn't help sleep come any faster. out of muscle memory, you made the sign of the cross over your chest, like someone about to pray, but stopped halfway. who would hear your prayers? when you had decided it was better to die surrounded by the life that pleased you than to care for what should be the purest of vessels for your soul. then you turned to your side, feeling the hard floor beneath you and huffing.
you closed your eyes and tried to count. tried not to think about anything. tried to cover your face with the pillow. but it didn't work.
when the muffled sound of something scratching the glass began, you didn't give it any importance; the wind, a dry branch, or maybe just your mind playing tricks in the middle of exhaustion. but the persistent, sharp, and rhythmic taps like small hailstones cut through the silence until the annoyance overcame the inertia.
you stood up, bare feet feeling the cold floor, and walked to the window where the bluish moonlight bathed the windowsill.
looking down, the world seemed to regain its colors in a single second. jake was there. real, solid, wearing jeans and that flannel shirt that seemed to carry all the comfort your father's townhouse had denied you in recent days. he smiled when he saw you, the arm that had just thrown the last pebble coming down slowly. you opened the glass in a desperate movement, the cold night air invading the room.
"what..?" the whisper came out raspy, loaded with a disbelief that bordered on ecstasy.
"missed me, church girl?" he asked with a smirk, moistening his lips afterward, and your nod was enough to set him in motion.
with agility, he wrapped his hand in an old cloth and climbed the tree trunk beside the house. every movement of his was precise, the strength of his arms lifting him to the second floor until he braced himself on his knee and jumped inside, landing on the carpet with a nasal laugh, narrowly missing the lamp.
you were stunned.
your eyes shone in the dark, fixed on him as if jake were a divine apparition in the midst of your private purgatory. he brushed the dust off his clothes and turned his face slightly, opening his arms in a silent invitation.
he mapped you there: the thin and transparent nightgown that molded your breasts but fell loose over your hips, the rosary of dark beads resting on your exposed collarbones, and your faltering feet.
when you finally took the step forward, he pulled you hard, crushing you against his chest, against the smell of the outdoors and freedom he exhaled. jake noticed the change in your countenance milliseconds before you hid your face in his chest. the emptiness of the last few days tried to turn into crying, but your eyes were dry, exhausted from so much fighting.
"i'm sorry for not writing a note... your father was really demanding when he came to me that day" he said softly against the top of your head, his fingers getting lost in your hair in a protective caress. "was he very hard on you?"
you shook your head against his chest, a quick, almost automatic movement. jake felt the lie vibrate in your body. you really were a terrible liar, but for him, that silence said much more than any words about what you had faced since he was forced to leave.
and the boy pondered before holding your face and pulling you away just so your eyes could meet. "come with me"
your lips parted and you looked down, lost, bringing your thin fingers to the buttons of his shirt. "i don't... i don't deserve you, jake...", your head shook and your laugh was weak, reluctant.
"what is that?" he knit his brows and shook his head, holding your chin and making you look at him again.
"god hates me. he will punish me and punish anyone who tries to help me... and i don't want that for you" your voice came out choked, but he didn't let go, pressing his mouth into a line and hardening his expression.
"i know you might think that now... because that's all you know, but there is nothing to punish you... you didn't do anything wrong" he replied, stroking your cheek with his thumb. "and even if he does... i don't care" he shrugged, running his tongue along his cheek. "i've been punished since the day i was born, i can't worry about one more day". and once again, you realized you didn't know jake sim, or his story, where he came from, or what his past was, but you loved him for what he showed now. "so come with me. we'll move near your college, get a job, and you decide what to do about this" he brought his thumb to the pendant of the necklace, pressing it.
you disentangled yourself from him delicately. took a few steps back and turned around, your bare feet sinking into the carpet as your eyes scanned the room. the bedroom suddenly felt strange; the dull walls, the heavy and impersonal wooden furniture where you had grown up, hidden, and lately, withered away.
a shiver ran down your arms and you hugged yourself, feeling the weight of that decision crush your chest.
jake didn’t leave you alone for long. he approached from behind, steps silent, and wrapped his arms around your waist with that firmness only he possessed. he tucked his face into the curve of your neck, inhaling the soft, natural scent of your skin, as if memorizing your essence. "i promise to take care of you... while you discover the world, the landscapes, the life..." he hissed, his warm breath brushing against your sensitive skin and sending electric jolts down your spine.
and you shrunk slightly against him, a reflex of someone still not used to such unconditional affection. jake smiled against your neck, noticing your gradual surrender.
"let me save you"
the phrase made your heart skip a beat. it ached in a deep way, the kind of pain that tears away what was left of your old identity to make room for something new. you remained still, feeling only the beat of his heart against your back, until you finally nodded. turning to him, a light and trembling smile appeared on your lips.
"yes?" he asked, just to hear the confirmation from you.
jake held you and sealed your lips in a short kiss, but one loaded with a victorious urgency.
"you need to pack your things, we’re leaving today."
"now?" your eyebrows shot up.
"yes, now"
there was no time for hesitation. jake moved through the room with practical efficiency, helping you find a large backpack in the back of your closet and dropping it on the floor with a dull thud. he guided you to choose practical clothes and, especially, something warm to face the biting cold of the road that awaited you both.
while you looked for what to take, he helped gather small fragments of your life - a few photos and personal belongings - which were kept in a small box and carefully tucked into the backpack's outer pocket.
the rest you did alone, in an almost ritualistic silence. you folded each piece of clothing with care, feeling the weight of every choice, while jake settled onto your bed. he stretched out one leg and leaned his torso against the headboard - resting one arm behind his head - watching your every move. his gaze was attentive, calm, but charged with anticipation.
until you stopped...
and you stopped just as you were about to change your clothes... about to slip a sleeve of the nightgown you were wearing off your shoulder. knowing his eyes were on you and that he would watch you undress.
jake licked his lower lip, clicking his jaw slightly, watching you do one side and then the other, very slowly. the fabric slid down your body, pooling around your feet so that all that remained was your underwear. the boy's dark eyes outlined your curves, and it wasn't like he hadn't seen some of them before, but not all at once; never.
you waited, looking over your shoulder, and he understood, standing up and approaching you.
"do you want help?" he whispered, his body so close to your small frame that you felt his heat radiating.
"yes..." you nodded and he bit his lip.
"where do you need my help?" jake questioned, still serene... wanting to know what your real intentions were.
that was when you sought out one of his thick wrists, holding it calmly and guiding his hand to one of your perky breasts, which he palmed as soon as he felt the soft flesh beneath.
jake gave a small smile but composed himself. "you know you tease me when you do these things... don't you?" he asked softly, just leaning forward, making both bodies brush against each other, his mouth close to your earlobe.
"i'm not teasing now" you replied, sounding a bit more decisive.
"know i stopped all the other times, but i wouldn't stop this time..." he warned, trying to catch any hesitation from you, but there was none; you kept holding his wrist there, breathing calmly... he was forced to close his eyes and sigh, restraining himself. "if you really want this, use your words..." he whispered, placing a brief kiss below your ear.
"jake, please..." you began... but it was hard to find the words.
"yes? i'm listening," he wanted to hear it.
"make me yours. completely" your voice came out hoarse.
and he didn't take long to comply with your request, sliding his hand from your breast to your neck, making you turn your face so he could take your mouth in a hungry kiss; saved up since the first day he saw you in the front row of the church pews, waiting for your father to finish his sermons. his lips, full and plump, swallowing and molding yours while he held you beneath your breasts with his other strong arm. jake pulled you, literally dragging your feet across the floor until you were leaning over the dresser.
your mouths broke apart and he flattened his hand against your back, feeling the small bones of your spine and pushing you to bend further.
"bend over f’me..." he commanded, analyzing the angle; the contrast between him still dressed and you exposed making you look smaller and more breakable.
you had your hands on either side of your body and your cheek pressed against the surface of the furniture while your hips remained arched. his large hands went straight to that region, holding firm. "you’re so beautiful..." he leaned over and kissed your hips. how had he held back for so long? "stay still like that"
jake got on his knees right behind you, caressing your soft thighs before wrapping his hands around them carefully.
his long fingers gripped the waistband of your panties, sliding the fabric down slowly until it was pooling at your heels. his eyes followed the movement and went back up, now seeing your sex pressed together, so pink and barely used... he spread your legs apart, watching as your pussy decompressed, feeling his mouth water.
his tongue reached your womanhood next. it was hot, and he licked from bottom to top, catching all the places where you seemed to need him most. you whimpered and tried to lift your torso to look, feeling a stinging slap on one of your butt cheeks.
"is that staying still for you?" the boy asked muffled - making you drop your face until it was pressed against the dresser again - before sinking his tongue into your slit, feeling you getting wetter and wetter.
fingertips wandered over your legs, scratching your skin as if feeling braille, reading you completely, discovering desires and wants you had hidden.
jake opened his mouth wider, latching his pretty lips around your pussy before sucking noisily, making your small folds catch pressure there, leaving your eyes rolling back. you felt so dirty. it was terrible that you liked feeling his mouth on your body so much, terrible that your body responded so well. "j-jake..." you whimpered softly, looking for something to hold onto.
he, however, was more concerned with making you slippery enough. it was about that, wasn't it? about being able to take him when the time came. he knew it was and despite being afraid, you were more curious. when the sim's tongue penetrated your tight cavity, a grunt escaped you, and as soon as jake forced a digit inside as well, your fingers tightened against the corners of the wooden furniture; your knuckles turning white and your toes curling.
he gave a breathy smile, parting his lips as he couldn't keep his thoughts to himself. "look at how you’re squeezing a single finger... fuck, your pussy is going to be so full with my cock" the dirty words echoed low through the room, entering your ears and making you moan more and more. jake began to pump his finger, sliding his tongue down to wrap it around your clitoris meanwhile, playing with the spot like it was candy.
you shook your head - divided between the urge to keep being good or finish losing yourself - trembling and standing on your tiptoes as your muscles tensed. he forced another thick finger into you as the squelches of your entrance grew louder, making you grit your teeth and let out a drawn-out sound. "sshh, you don't want to wake up the preacher, do you?" he mocked, knowing it was almost impossible not to make a sound with the way he was touching you.
and before you could unravel, he stopped, suddenly, standing up and grabbing you by the shoulder to pull your body back and press it against his once more. his mouth traveled over your shoulders, kissing your neck and sucking the skin in visible places now, leaving marks and making your legs weak, needing to double the strength with which he kept you upright.
the boy turned you around and pulled your thighs so you could climb into his lap, walking with you to the bed and tossing you into the center of it.
you watched as jake took off his clothes, biting your lip hard while he deliberately unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his pants before kicking the garment away. and when he was left only in his underwear... damn, he was marked. the thick outline in the thin fabric making you doubt if he would fit before you looked at him. "speak your mind, little one..." he asked, mischievous, sliding his hands over your thighs as he positioned himself between them.
"w-what if it is too big?" your voice crackled, making him let out a brief chuckle. "then i would have to go slow... until you get used to the size..." he replied, leaning over your body, maintaining a smirk and eye contact, making your heart beat fast and your body burn. your face contorted with shame and your free hand flew to cover his eyes with a muffled grunt. "d-don't look at me like that..." you asked, affected, and he laughed again, enjoying himself.
jake held your wrist and unhurriedly moved your hand away, bringing it to his lips and kissing the whole palm, before holding it firmer and licking slowly, with a flat tongue, staring at you with eyes clouded with desire. "i can't, you're too cute..." he slid his tongue to the softest part of your palm and sucked just as he had done with your cunny earlier, stretching the warm muscle between your digits and passing between them too. when your body softened again, he let go of your hand and stood erect, looking down at you - your hair spread across the sheet, your breathing uneven, folds glistening with the mixture of his saliva and your arousal. "are you ready?" his tone was low and sensual.
you nodded, watching the older boy take his throbbing member out of his underwear. it hit, hard, against his lower abdomen, the veins protruding and the pink head swollen and leaking pre-cum.
he held the base, forcing his cock down and rubbing it against your mound in a provocative back-and-forth. god, you were so small... maybe you really should be afraid.
jake held one of your thighs, forcing your knee back almost near your shoulder, making more room for him, and guided his swollen head to your virgin entrance. "breathe in, baby... relax a bit..." he whispered as he forced his entry there.
jake advanced with agonizing slowness, feeling every millimeter of resistance your body offered. he was focused, his dark eyes fixed on the point where his flesh lost itself in your tight interiors; he watched, almost hypnotized, as the sensitive skin stretched to its limit to accommodate his thickness.
a whimpery gasp escaped the boy's lips. it had been so long since he felt something squeeze him that way, as if every fiber of you were trying to push him out and hug him at the same time.
he hissed softly, a mixture of pain and extreme pleasure, before leaning down again to capture your mouth, muffling the whimpers you let out as you felt the inevitable stretching. you were breathless, your chest rising and falling frantically. your hands, restless and desperate for a point of support, squeezed his arms which pinned you to the bed, your nails scratching the warm skin before sliding down your own breasts, squeezing them in a reflex of agony and ecstasy.
"it's too much...nng i can't!" you protested through gritted teeth, your voice choked.
"of course you can... you're being so good..." he replied, his tone of voice so intoxicating it numbed you.
the compliment made you throw your head back, small tears of pain and effort accumulating in the corner of your eyes as you felt his weight fill every empty space that remained in you. when jake finally buried himself completely, he let out a raspy grunt, biting his own lower lip as a few drops of sweat broke out on his forehead. "fu-ck, you squeeze me so well... so good, my love..." he whispered, his voice failing.
he tried to move his hips, a short and experimental movement, and felt your nails dig hard into his biceps in response to the new surge of sensations. jake stopped for a moment, his face close to yours, seeking your eyes reassuringly. "just breathe, hm? don't think too much..." he started talking to you, his soft voice acting like an anchor in the middle of the storm. "the hardest part is over... can you do this for me?"
the way he asked, turning that surrender into a favor for him, made the pain of being devirginated start to be swallowed by an even greater need: that of satisfying him, of being exactly what he wanted you to be. which made you nod breathlessly and bring your fingers to your swollen clitoris and rub it - in slow circular motions, as he had taught before - closing your eyes and allowing yourself to feel bit by bit how the stinging became something more bearable, almost good... "there's my good girl" he said with a little smile after watching the act.
every time you got wetter and less tense, you could feel his cock going deeper and deeper, sliding out and coming back in with jake's full weight in every thrust.
you could even feel your lower abdomen bulging, parting your lips at the sight you had when you looked down to where your bodies met - the large cock, and your small, swollen lips sliding along the length of it. your moans became more spontaneous, and gradually your body began to give small signs it would give in.
jake saw you arch when he thrust harder, felt your nails scratch his back when he laid his body over yours, incredibly deep, making the head of his cock hit your internal wall.
but it was when he buried his face in your neck to suck the flesh and vent some of the pressure he felt, that you looked up.
there, above your bed, the crucifix.
your eyes clouded with growing pleasure and your thoughts far away, no longer able to process the guilt you had carried all that time, not while jake fucked you and made you a woman. this was the moment when you decided to have a new religion, one that began and ended with jake sim.
***
you leaned your head against the glass of the truck, feeling the constant vibration of the engine against your temple as you watched the landscape of your old life being left behind, turning into green and gray blurs. the radio played a soft melody, a sound that filled the comfortable silence that had settled between you.
occasionally, jake took one hand off the steering wheel and squeezed your thigh lightly - a possessive and calm touch, just to make sure you were still awake. you smiled, closing your eyes and feeling that, finally, you were safe.
not far from there, at a roadside station that smelled of diesel oil and burnt coffee, two old men shared a beer at a rustic, worn-out table. between them, an old battery-operated radio crackled, fighting against static to deliver the latest afternoon news.
"- suspect in the murder of four people remains at large" the announcer's voice cut through the hot air. "the suspect goes by the name of jaeyun sim. he has asian features, is approximately five-foot-nine, with brown eyes and hair. he is the primary suspect in the killing of his parents, his fiancée, and a witness at the scene of the crime four months ago. if you have any information call xxx or make an anonymous report".
( and i don’t even like you that much, wait, i do, fuck! )
pairing — yang jungwon x fem!reader
synopsis ⨾ㅤ after you start tutoring jungwon (for money, obviously), your academic rival since 9th grade, you expect your interactions to stay within the library only. what you don’t expect is spending much more time with him than you imagined . . . or getting confused about your feelings for the one person you swear you hate.
content warning ⨾ㅤ nothing, wonyoung is js annoying
25 . you’re meant to say it back silly
masterlist / prev / next
— bye i’m running out of ideas can u tell.. IM SIXK OF APPLE CIDER I NEED THIS TO END ALREADY BUT I DONT WANNA MAKE IT TOO ABRUPT FUCK MY LIFE HVFUUFUV 😭💔
( and i don’t even like you that much, wait, i do, fuck!)
pairing — yang jungwon x fem!reader
synopsis ⨾ㅤ after you start tutoring jungwon (for money, obviously), your academic rival since 9th grade, you expect your interactions to stay within the library only. what you don’t expect is spending much more time with him than you imagined . . . or getting confused about your feelings for the one person you swear you hate.
content warning ⨾ㅤ idk
23 . instructions unclear
masterlist / prev / next
with high school coming to an end, managing your responsibilities as class secretary of 3-5 and keeping your grades up is already a challenge in itself—made worse by park sunghoon, your classmate of three years and your seatmate, who treats your inbox like his personal help desk.
pairing! classmate!sunghoon x class secretary!reader
genre! social media au (smau), high-school au, friends to lovers, classmates to lovers, crack, fluff
warnings! female reader, cursing, suggestive at times, sunghoon lowkey showing signs of illiteracy, jokes about killing
notes! my texts with an old classmate resurfaced and my GOD i was used bro like he genuinely asked me about every single thing. all of the texts used here were actual things he asked me, just slightly tweaked. also I am quite concerned with the fact that the only time guys used to talk to me was to ask for homework guidance or basically just academic related things... am I chopped fr 🥀🥀🥀 also i lowkey miss that era of enhablr when all smaus were related to high school, like that was my shit. I live teenage romance so bad 👎 myb cuz I've never went through one
synopsis: reader is the stylist for heeseung and he just sits there and looks pretty with his pink hair and they cute
warnings: fluff, kinda suggestive + a few lil kisses here n there..
wc: 360
kiki’s notes: alr guys i had no ideas for the night shift and then i started to mourn daydream heeseung so here’s a lil oneshot as an apology for not posting #6 of tns .. also this kinda sucks but WE UP
‘do you like it?’ heeseungs playing with the ends of your hair while you touch up the blush on his cheeks, he recently dyed his hair pink and he knows you’ve wanted him to do it for a long time now.
‘of course i like it baby, you look so cute’ you smile and fix a strand of his hair that was sticking out, he can feel how cold your hands are so he takes them into his own with a hot pack between them. he leans in and gives you a small kiss, not directly on your lips but right next to them.
he plays with your fingers while you do his finishing touches before you have to send him off for his shoot, but right before you set the makeup brush down he tugs on your sleeve. you tilt your head at him and he smiles at you.
‘fix my hair, it’s still messy’ you scoff, you literally just fixed it.. ‘heeseung, it looks fine and it’s not messy i promise’ he looks up at you with literal sparkles in his eyes
you can’t refuse him so you just pretend like you’re fixing a strand of his hair at the back of his head when he kisses you on your neck. you giggle at the ticklish sensation and push his chest. ‘stop, you have to go now’
‘but i don’t want to go yet,’ he pauses ‘do you actually like my hair?’ he says softly. ‘i love it’ you kiss his cheek.
‘then show me how much you love it’ you scoff at him, ‘okay freak relax.. i’ll show you later, now go and do your shoot’ he grabs your wrist and brings you closer to him, now standing up.
he grabs your waist and kisses you, gentle but firm. his hands traveling from your waist up your spine. your back tingles at the warm sensation from the hot packs that were in his hands a few minutes ago.
you pull him away before he can get too carried away and fix the crooked collar on his shirt. he can’t look away from you.
‘looks like you have to touch up my lips again.’ ⊹ ࣪ ˖
What was supposed to be just another tutoring session turned into something way more.
pairing 𖦹 nishimurariki x fem!reader
warning 𖦹 kissing, flustered tension, making out
genre 𖦹 fluff, suggestive, tutor x student, friends to lovers
word count 𖦹 1.9k
author’s note 𖦹 part 1 as always feedback is appreciated
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The sky is pale and overcast, a cold breeze making you clutch your cardigan tighter. Leaves rattling on the sidewalk as you walk toward his street.
Today is the day.
Ever since ni-ki invited you yesterday to study at his house, your stomach hadn’t stopped twisting with nerves. The thought of being in his house - maybe even his room - made your heart beat faster and your palms clammy.
You kept telling yourself it was just another tutoring session, but the butterflies in your stomach said otherwise.
As you make your way to his house, you tug lightly at the hem of your frayed denim shorts, the sheer black tights underneath doing little to warm your legs. At least the Ugg boots keep your feet warm against the cold.
You should know better than to go out in an outfit like this when it is 2°C outside, but you want to look pretty.
For him.
It’s the first time that you care this much about what a guy has to say about you. It’s confusing. You’ve never felt this way about someone before.
Before you realise it, you’re standing right in front of his door. Too aware of how fast your heart is beating. Telling yourself that everything will be fine, you take one final deep breath and knock at his door.
It takes a few seconds but then he opens the door.
And he looks absolutely beautiful.
His lanky build stands tall - towering over you, black hair falling over his forehead, his chest pushing against his blue hoodie over grey sweatpants.
And his eyes… those smouldering brown eyes that draw everyone’s attention on them. You can’t get enough of them.
You’re pretty sure you’re drooling right now but you don’t care. You’ve never seen a prettier man than him.
He’s leaning against the door, arms crossed and tilts his head. “Hey, you.” His voice has a hint of lightness in it, his eyes twinkling.
Blinking a few times, you clutch your bag closer to you and clear your throat. “Hi” you breathe out.
Ni-ki’s eyes rank over your body and you suddenly become hyper-aware of your outfit. Maybe this was too much. You didn’t want him to think that you purposely wore a short skirt - it was the only one you had left.
“You look good” he says before stepping aside to let you in. He softly closes the door behind you and then there’s pure silence. Just him standing right behind you, way too close.
“Uhm… you too” you mumble, too distracted by his presence to think clearly. Maybe this was a bad idea. Words barely exchanged and you already feel like a mess. But you can’t leave and neither do you want to.
He laughs. “Thanks. Can you turn around? It kind of feels funny speaking to your back.”
Slowly you turn around and meet his eyes. You can’t get over on how intense his gaze is. Being here - in his house, just the two of you, feels way too intimate.
Even tho you rarely spoke to him before he started giving you tutoring sessions, you weren’t blind. Someone like ni-ki is impossible to ignore and not just because he’s tall. He has this relaxed vibe around him. The one that draws people in. He walks into any room like he owns it, his movements deliberate, as if he has no care in this world.
These past few months you’ve come to notice that despite his hard interior and that intense gaze of his, he actually cares a lot.
He makes sure that you understand your teacher’s lessons, that you write everything down and if you miss your class, he’s the first to inform you. Not your friends. But him.
He’s always ready to help someone no matter how busy he is with something else. He makes sure to not hurt any girls feelings when rejecting them, being patient even when he already explained himself multiple times.
Perhaps that’s why you are falling for him. Who doesn’t like a softie inside?
“If you don’t mind, please take your shoes off. My mom is kind of a clean freak. You know… asian moms.” he chuckles lowly.
“Don’t worry, my mom’s the same. She never fails to remind me to take my shoes off before I even stepped a foot inside” you smile at him. “Are your parents home? It’s really quiet.”
“They went on a date. That’s their thing.”
“Cute.”
“Anyways enough about them. Let me show you around.” You’re caught off guard when he suddenly takes your hand and leads you to the living room. His hand is so big compared to yours, palms soft and smooth. The butterflies in your stomach increase.
While showing you around, you get to learn that he has a smaller brother by 5 years. He revealed that he asked his parents to drop him off at his aunt so that he could focus on you. Said that his brother likes to pull stunts when his parents are gone and can’t afford to babysit him today.
After showing you the living room, he takes you upstairs and you find yourself being in his room.
His room is neat and smells faintly of whatever cologne he uses - kind of wood like. His king sized bed is unmade, sheets messy like he just got up from them. A small black nightstand stands next to it and in the far corner is a small desk with two chairs, one from the kitchen he brought upstairs.
He goes to sit at his desk, motioning to the chair next to him. “Sit.“
Taking slow steps, you walk up to him and take your seat. There’s barely any space between you. Clearing your throat, you take your notebook out and show him the exercises that you don’t understand.
The first ten minutes, you were able to focus on what he said. Everything was normal.
But then his head leaned forward and you could feel his breath hitting your cheek. Either he didn’t notice or didn’t care because he continued playing with his pencil while explaining to you. You tried to listen, you really did but it was too hard. Not when he’s this close to you.
His knee is touching yours. You didn’t move away. Neither did he. You thought he didn’t notice but the way he‘s brushing his knee on yours clearly indicates otherwise.
“Aren’t you cold?“ His voice was deep, speaking slowly.
Your heart raced. “What?“ you asked, voice coming out way too fast.
He looks down at your thighs, raising his eyebrows at your shorts. “It’s super cold outside. Don’t you think shorts are too unsuitable for this weather?“
Your entire face heats up. Not sure how you’re supposed to react, you just shrug. “The tights and cardigan are keeping me warm, don’t worry.“
He just keeps looking at you with that unreadable expression. It’s too much. Sitting so close to him in his room while he’s looking at you with that hungry gaze feels way too personal.
After a second, he drags his eyes slowly away from yours and tells you to try to solve the exercise.
Trying to read, write or focus is impossible. Your nerves are firing up everywhere, breath coming out quickly, heartbeat beating way too fast. Your whole body is on fire.
His presence is too strong. He’s still. Unbothered. Like this moment didn’t happen at all. You take a glance at him. He’s scribbling something down, his jaw clenching, a small crease between his eyebrows.
You know you should look away - stop ogling him but you can’t help it.
Ni-ki lifts his head towards you, asks “You okay?“
It seems as your voice has completely disappeared because you don’t answer. Just continue looking at him.
He slightly shifts in his seat and turns completely towards you, knees still touching. He has a big smirk on his face. “You know… i’ve been thinking a lot about us.“
You swallow hard, your breath hitching. “Us?“
“Mhm.“ Without breaking eye contact, he tugs a strand behind your ear. “Don’t you think we have something?“
Your lips parted but no words came out. You were frozen, not knowing what to say or do. Didn’t dare to move an inch.
Watching you like he already knew you wouldn’t say anything, he leans forward, noses nearly touching. “I like you yn.“ he mutters, voice so low you thought you were hearing wrong.
But then he says:
“And I think you like me too.“
Your chest rose with a sharp, deep breath. His eyes flickers down to it, briefly, then back up. The room feels tense. Quiet.
You want to say something. Desperate to tell him that he’s right but you are as silent as a mouse. Too scared to break this moment.
Ni-ki doesn’t seem to mind tough. He finds it adorable. He doesn’t need words when your body is already betraying you. Hands fidgeting, legs shaking, breaths coming out in quick bursts.
He slides his had behind your neck, looks you deep in the eyes and softly asks. ”Can I kiss you?“
Your pulse thundered in your ears, loud and urgent. Too afraid that your voice will creak, you bite your lips and nod.
That’s all he needs. He tilts your heard upwards and presses his lips on yours. Softly, gently as if testing how you’re going to react.
After a beat, you start kissing him back and his hand tightens. The kiss got deeper, firmer. Control slowly slipping away. He’s been waiting so long to do this.
Everything’s quiet around you. The world holds no importance. As if only you two matter. Breath mingling. Lips swallowing every sounds.
He pulls back just enough to catch his breath but then he’s kissing you again. Cradling your head in his hands, he pushes his tongue into your mouth.
You’ve had your fair shares of kisses but not like this. Never like this. It’s a new feeling - one that you love.
Feeling bold, you wrap your arms around his neck, and suck on his tongue. He lets out a groan, taking your waist between his hands and pulls you on his lap. Hands sliding along your spine, pressing you into his chest. The only sound leaving your mouth are filthy moans.
You don’t want him to ever stop. If there was one single moment you could remember for the rest of your life, it would be this.
The kiss slows down, only last peck given and he pulls slightly away, a string of saliva connecting his mouth to yours. You whimper at the loss.
He chuckles, lowly. “Fuck. You don’t know how long i’ve been waiting to kiss you.“ He caresses your cheek.
Biting your lips, you try to contain the giddiness you’re feeling inside. Knowing that he feels the same… you can’t help but feel like you won something. “Really?“
“God, yes.“ he smiles at you.
“Yn, I’m serious about this. I want you - not just physically. Not as your friend or tutor. I really like you. Let’s give us a chance, please?“
He’s staring so hard at you, silently begging for a yes.
“Okay.“
His smile grows even bigger. “Okay?“
You can’t help but laugh. You’re so happy, you could scream. “Yes, ni-ki. I like you too.“ The happiness evident in your voice.
Pulling you even closer, he kisses you again. This time slower, steadier, taking his time.
📁 2026.works. ╰ 📂 NI-KI : tattoo artist!ni-ki x florist!reader — part 1
‘Belle and Blossom, y/n listening.’
You automatically said as soon as you picked up the phone. You were sitting at your desk, chin lazily resting on the palm of your hands as you waited for time to pass by. Clients were not numerous to come in this small flower shop and your days were so long you started counting the minutes.
‘Mhm.’ You kept humming at the end of each one of the client’s sentences like some sort of punctuation. Your left hand was holding the phone near your ear while writing down the order with your free hand.
As soon as you hung up, you went into the back of the store to pick up the flowers in the garden. Since it was most likely going to be your only client for the day, you thought you’d use the most beautiful flowers.
You took your time to choose them and then walked back into the store, the flowers in hand and your tools needed in your pockets.
‘H-hello ? Can I help you ?’ You said, frowning a bit as you spotted a tall figure a bit further.
‘Actually yes.’ The voice was the deepest you’ve ever heard and as you walked closer, you noticed tattoos on his bare arm. He was definitely not the type of client you were used to seeing here. It was most likely old ladies with their friends or husbands. But never young men, except on Valentine’s day.
Today was not Valentine’s day though. He seemed so out of place and it made you wonder what was the reason for his presence here.
You shook your head slightly, focusing back on offering impeccable service. The shop was already not frequented a lot so you thought you’d better avoid making bad impressions to the new clients. You raised your brows, waiting for his request.
‘I need a bouquet of roses and maybe… Maybe other flowers ? I don’t know much about all this to be honest but she loves roses.’
You pointed to the counter on which were resting the flowers you previously abandoned to welcome the new client. ‘Do you mind if I finish this bouquet first ?’
He shook his head and followed you towards it, standing on the other side of it, carefully observing your hands as you were delicately forming the bouquet. You were clearly used to it, even he, as a beginner, could tell. ‘Y/N, right ?
Your eyes widened and you looked at him, a mix of confusion and slight discomfort in your face as a complete stranger mentioned your name. He looked away for a second and chuckled nervously. Your sudden gaze fixated on him wasn’t exactly the reaction he had been expecting when he spoke.
‘How… How do you know ?’
‘I mean…’ He pointed to the name tag hooked to your apron and you chuckled, slightly relieved but also embarrassed by your implication. ‘Oh… I’m so sorry…’ You rubbed your face, hiding the red shade slowly appearing on your cheeks.
The stranger chuckled. He didn’t find you embarrassing, but rather cute. You quickly finished the bouquet and smelled it. ‘What do you think ?’ You asked. It wasn’t his order, but since he was your first interaction outside of the phone, you thought you’d enjoy it a bit before going back to your boring routine.
You set the bouquet aside after the client praised it, making you smile a bit. It was always pleasant to hear that. You knew your bouquets were pretty, especially because your superior explicitly confirmed to you that you were employed for this main quality.
‘Let’s take care of your bouquet now.’ You said, going to the back of the store again, wondering which flowers you could join to the roses and you talked a bit louder for him to hear you. ‘What’s your budget ?’ You asked.
Some flowers cost more and you preferred not to create a bouquet without making sure which flowers were in his budget.
‘Unlimited.’ He confidently replied. You bit your lip and raised your eyebrows at his response. It was the first time you heard such a thing. He was either really generous or really rich. Perhaps both. What a nice party, you thought, but quickly got back to serious.
‘Since when do you work here, by the way ?’ He asked, genuinely interested.
‘Three months now.’ You smiled.
Your smile was soft. It was the kind to lighten up a room, and comfort the saddest soul. And it had been enough to get this stranger to soften his gaze and voice as he spoke again. ‘I’m a tattoo artist by the way, Nishimura is my artist name and also last name.’
You turned your gaze to him for a second before looking at your flowers as you kept working. ‘Nice to meet you, Nishimura.’
‘Nice to meet you too, y/n.’ He chuckled softly.
It only took you a few 10 minutes to produce another splendid bouquet. Because this one was particularly big compared to the usual ones, you took a picture for the social media of the shop.
And just like that the meeting was already over. The best part of your day came to an end and surely the rest of it would be as boring as it was before he entered the shop.
Nishimura walked towards the exit, his bouquet in hand and waved goodbye at you before heading outside.
You couldn’t exactly tell why, but a part of you felt that he’d be back. It felt like a fated encounter and as you were not one to believe in things like that, you couldn’t help but feel hopeful that he’d truly come back.
Nishimura.
You found yourself whispering his name a few times, making sure you wouldn’t forget it, but as his face was already carved into your mind, you figured his name would also. That way, the next time he’d come here, you’d be able to greet him properly.
YOU tried so hard to keep your head quiet during the whole ride to the meeting spot, but for some reason it kept questioning the entire situation.
You knew it didn’t actually make sense—because why in the world would you be hanging out with your ex’s best friend? You knew the codes, the boundaries, whatever they call it now. You knew better. And yet, there you were—crossing the café’s door in that lovely outfit of yours, your eyes quickly searching for him.
Jungwon was sitting next to the window. Table for two.
The moment his eyes met yours, an awkward smile appeared on his face as he waved. You smiled back.
He looked like a little kid. The kind whose eyes light up every time he gets a sweet, or even a handshake from a friend. The kind who sees beauty in the ugly, color in the darkness. Yeah… Jungwon had always been like that. Always.
“Have you been waiting long?” you asked with a friendly smile as you sat across from him.
He quickly shook his head.
“Just… like five minutes,” he replied, his tone as shy and awkward as ever. “It was my fault, though. I came earlier than I should’ve.”
You nodded.
Your eyes wandered around the place—pink walls lit by weak sunlight, big windows that allowed you to see the sidewalk, and cats walking around or napping wherever they pleased. You hadn’t even tasted the food yet, but you already knew this would become one of your favorite spots.
Thanks, Jungwon.
“Shall we order?” you asked, looking back at him.
He nodded immediately. You smiled again, completely ignoring how fast his eyes darted away from yours the moment you faced him.
───────────── . /ᐠ - ˕ -マ Ⳋ
You swore you’d never had a conversation as painfully awkward as the one you had with Jungwon that afternoon.
You hated silence because it only made things more uncomfortable, so you forced conversation. You asked about college first (he almost failed), then about his family (his aunt had just passed… R.I.P.), and finally you realized that sometimes silence is definitely the best option.
But Jungwon seemed more like you than you had imagined, because he didn’t let the silence linger for more than thirty seconds.
“Have you—”
His question was interrupted by an orange cat—a.k.a your savior.
The little feline climbed onto the table like it owned the place (it did) and immediately rubbed its fluffy tail against Jungwon’s face.
You laughed, probably louder than you should have, but you felt relieved the moment you saw Jungwon smiling. Genuinely smiling. He quickly reached out to pet the cat, which then chose his legs as a napping spot.
“You’re the chosen one.” You said, amazed.
You suddenly remembered how cats used to run away from Sunghoon every time he tried to touch one. He was never someone that… trustworthy. Maybe the cats had been giving you signs all along—signs you never noticed, of course.
Dumbass, you thought.
“I think I am!” Jungwon exclaimed, gently caressing the cat’s fur as it purred on his legs.
Thank God that little furry friend interrupted the nonexistent conversation, making the air between you feel lighter. Less heavy and suffocating. It was already dangerously close to becoming torturous.
You grabbed your phone to take a picture of the cat napping on Jungwon’s legs, but then—
“H’tss!” A sneeze. “Sorry.”
“Bless you,” you whispered, looking up at him with a smile. “Do you want some tissues?”
“Yes, plea— H’tss!” Another one.
You were about to say bless you again, but another sneeze interrupted you. Then another. And another.
You handed him a tissue, and he immediately brought it to his nose. He was suddenly a sneezing mess—even the cat stood up and abandoned his legs, choosing a safer spot by the window.
Isn’t it dangerous to sneeze that much? You remembered that Dumb Ways to Die episode where a man died from sneezing too many times in a row.
You really hoped that wouldn’t be the case here, though.
“Are you okay?” you asked.
A dumb question, considering how red and watery his eyes were, and the pinkish tone creeping onto the tip of his nose. But you were genuinely worried.
He still nodded.
A few seconds later, now that the furry menace had moved away, taking its fluffy tail and its attack on his sensitive nose with it, the sneezing stopped.
You blinked.
“Are you… allergic?”
Another dumb question. You already knew the answer—you just wanted to know why he hadn’t mentioned his allergies before bringing you to a cat café.
A cat café. He was allergic to cats.
“A little…” he whispered. He smiled at you like a kid apologizing to his dad after messing up.
“You’re allergic to cats.”
“Yes,” he said softly, rubbing his eyes. “I don’t usually stay around them for long. I forgot to mention it.”
You blinked, incredulous.
He stopped rubbing his eyes and looked at you carefully, as if checking whether you were mad. Then he shrugged slightly, an apologetic expression settling on his face.
“You know this is a potentially dangerous place for you, right?”
“I know,” he said, his voice thinning. “I just really wanted to come here with you. Sorry.”
Something tightened in your chest at that, but you brushed it off. You always did.
“You’re insane.” You said, unable to hide the smirk forming at the corner of your lips.
“I’ll be fine.” He assured you—though his red nose and watery eyes said otherwise.
You noticed how his body relaxed the moment he realized you weren’t mad. You were just… smiling.
A sigh escaped your lips as you shook your head, grabbing your jacket from the chair.
“Let’s get out of here before you start sneezing nonstop again.” You joked—though the genuine worry in your voice was obvious.
Jungwon’s eyes lit up despite the redness and tears. He stood up at the same time as you, that childish smile shining on his face. For a moment, it looked like he’d follow you anywhere you led him.
But he played it off.
“Next time,” you said, pointing a finger at him, “you tell me important things like that.”
He smiled softly, making a serious effort to hold back the sneeze creeping up on him.
“Next time,” he repeated, the words lingering in the air longer than necessary.
You nodded before heading outside, Jungwon walking right behind you—leaving a noticeable gap between the two of you.
synopsis. when professor snape assigns a special project on legilimency — the art of reading minds — you and jay are chosen as partners. you expect it to be awkward. you don’t expect him to accidentally glimpse your secret crush… on him. now every study session feels like a silent game of cat and mouse — except you’re not sure who’s actually winning
in autumn, hogwarts forgets how to breathe properly.
the air settles too low, too heavy, like the castle itself is holding something in its lungs and refusing to let it go. fog drifts across the grounds in the early mornings, curling over the black lake, slipping through the iron gates, seeping into corridors as if it belongs there. the smell of wet leaves, cold stone, and old magic presses against your chest, and for the first time, you notice the small things: how the suits of armor turn their heads just a fraction too late, how the portraits fall silent when you pass, their painted eyes lingering with something quieter than curiosity. even the candles burn differently. flames thin, wavering, disturbed by something unseen.
it is in this suspended autumnal silence that professor snape announces the legilimency assignment, pairing you with jay.
the announcement alone is enough to tighten the room. legilimency is not a subject most students are comfortable with. it requires vulnerability, precision, and a level of trust that hogwarts does not often demand so directly. when snape pairs you with jay, you expect awkwardness. you expect distance, formality, the politeness of two people navigating something invasive.
you do not expect him to see you. not like that.
the first session takes place in the library, late enough that the usual hum of students has faded into near silence. lamplight pools in dim circles across long wooden tables, illuminating drifting dust and worn pages. the air is still, almost unnaturally so, as if even sound is reluctant to linger.
jay is already there when you arrive, seated in the far corner. he looks composed, as always, calm in a way that feels intentional and controlled. there is something distant about him, not cold exactly, but self-contained, like he exists just slightly apart from everything else.
you sit across from him, trying not to think about how close that makes you.
snape’s instructions echo in your mind. clear your thoughts. build barriers. maintain control. legilimency is not about force alone. it is about structure, awareness, and the ability to recognize the shape of your own mind before someone else does.
you try to focus on that. at first, it works. you steady your breathing, smooth out the surface of your thoughts, construct something resembling a barrier. when jay begins, the sensation is subtle, not a violent intrusion but a careful pressure, like fingers brushing against the edge of a closed door.
he is cautious. precise. you can feel it in the way he moves, not pushing but observing, testing. and then something slips.
it's small. barely a thought at all. the kind of thing you have trained yourself to suppress without even noticing. the instinctive awareness of him sitting across from you, the way your attention sharpens without permission, the quiet pull you never let yourself examine too closely.
but legilimency does not care about what you intend to hide. it catches what is there.
you feel it when he sees it, not as a sharp break but as a shift. a pause. the faintest tightening of something that had been smooth until now.
your breath falters. the connection snaps, and jay inhales sharply, like he has surfaced too quickly from deep water. silence floods back in, thick and immediate. somewhere deeper in the library, a book shuts on its own, the sound echoing too loudly in the stillness.
he does not look at you right away. when he does, his expression is almost unchanged. almost.
“you dropped your guard,” he says quietly. it is a perfect answer. neutral. academic. exactly what the situation should call for. but there is something beneath it now, something slightly off balance, something that was not there before.
you nod because you don’t trust yourself to do anything else. “sorry. i’ll try again.”
the space between you feels different now, no longer just physical. it has weight to it, tension that was not there before, something unspoken pressing at the edges of every second that passes.
jay watches you for a moment longer than necessary. not distant anymore. not detached. there is awareness in it now, sharp and unmistakable.
“again,” he says. you hesitate, but only for a second. you rebuild your defenses, more carefully this time. you layer your thoughts, redirect them, bury anything dangerous beneath distraction and structure. you do not just hide the feeling. you dismantle it, scatter it into pieces too small to recognize.
when the connection forms again, it is cleaner. stronger. and he is different.
he is no longer searching blindly. he knows what he is looking for now, and you can feel that knowledge in the way he moves through your mind. he does not push directly against your barriers. instead, he traces them, testing their shape, studying where they hold and where they thin.
for a few seconds, it works. your defenses stay intact. he finds nothing clear, nothing incriminating. but absence has a shape of its own. and he notices it.
his attention shifts, subtle but deliberate. he is no longer trying to break through. he is reading what leaks, what flickers, what cannot be fully controlled.
your focus tightens. you hold steady.
until you don’t. because you become aware of him again, not just as a presence in your mind, but as himself. close. real. sitting across from you, breathing evenly, entirely focused on you in a way that makes it impossible to forget what just happened.
that awareness is enough. a crack forms, not in your barriers, but in your control over them. something slips through. not a full thought, not a memory, just a feeling, sharp, quick, and unmistakable.
and he catches it. the shift is immediate. not an intrusion, not a push, just a stillness. but this time, he doesn’t pull back. the connection holds.
you feel him hesitate inside your mind, like he’s standing at the edge of something and deciding whether to cross it. your instinct is to shut him out, to rebuild everything and end it before it goes any further.
you don’t. you don’t know why. maybe because you’re tired of pretending. maybe because part of you wants to know what he’ll do if you stop running.
so you stay. the silence stretches, but it isn’t empty anymore. it is filled with awareness, with the quiet, undeniable fact that he knows now, and that you know he knows.
and then, carefully, deliberately, something shifts. not from you. from him.
it isn’t a thought, not exactly. it doesn’t have words, doesn’t take shape the way yours do when they slip through your control. it is simpler than that.
clearer. a feeling, steady and unmistakable, moving toward you instead of away.
interest. not amusement, not curiosity in the detached sense he had before, but something warmer, something grounded, something that settles instead of flickering.
it reaches you before he can stop it. or maybe he doesn’t try.
your breath catches. the connection breaks a second later, clean and sudden, like a door closing just before it can be pushed open any further.
the library rushes back in around you, too quiet, too still. you look at him. he’s already looking at you. this time, he doesn’t look away.
something has changed, and neither of you pretend otherwise.
“we should stop,” you say, but it comes out quieter than you intended, less like a decision and more like something you are telling yourself. jay studies you for a moment, his expression unreadable in the dim light.
“do you want to?” he asks. it is a simple question. it shouldn’t feel like a trap. you open your mouth, then close it again.
because the answer is there, immediate and undeniable, sitting just beneath the surface of everything you’ve been trying to control. you don’t.
the realization settles heavily in your chest, strange and steady at the same time.
outside, the fog presses faintly against the tall windows, blurring the edges of the world beyond the glass. somewhere in the castle, something shifts, a low, distant sound that seems to echo through the stone. but here, at this table, nothing feels distant anymore.
you exhale slowly. “no,” you admit. it is barely above a whisper, but it feels louder than anything else you’ve said tonight. for a second, neither of you move.
then jay leans back slightly, not breaking eye contact, not retreating, just giving the moment space instead of ending it. “then we don’t,” he says. no hesitation. no deflection. just an answer. and somehow, that is worse. or maybe better. you’re not sure yet.
the tension doesn’t disappear, but it shifts, less like something about to snap and more like something settling into place. uncertain, unfinished, but real. the assignment is still there. snape’s expectations, the rules, the structure you are supposed to follow.
but none of that feels as immediate as this. as him. as the quiet, steady understanding sitting between you now, no longer hidden, no longer accidental. the castle still feels like it’s holding its breath.
