Fic: Forgive Me, Father
Title: Forgive Me, Father
Pairing/Characters: Ianto Jones, Jack Harkness, Jack/Ianto
Warnings/Spoilers: No spoilers. NON-CON. CHARACTER DEATH.
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 4117
Beta: None, all mistakes are mine, I apologize.
Summary: Father Ianto just wanted to lock the church up for the night and go to bed, what he got was far worse.
Notes: This is my first time writing actual porn as well as non-con, just a warning.
Ianto sighs, tilting his head from side to side to stretch the kinks out of his neck before he glances at the clock on his desk. He’s surprised when he sees it’s past nine o’clock. Mrs. Williams, the lovely old woman who volunteers twice a week to, well, Ianto doesn’t actually know what she does, but she had stopped in around seven to tell him she was off home and that he should be too. He had told her he would only be another half hour at most.
Shaking his head to clear it, he stands and meanders towards the door, pausing once to straighten a photo on the wall of his cream-colored office wall.
He hums a dreary hymn as he walks towards the sanctuary of the church to make sure it’s empty and clear so he can lock up for the night.
Ianto steps into the sanctuary, breathing a quiet sigh of relief when he sees the room is empty. He wanders down the aisle towards the front doors. Suddenly, there's a noise from behind him and he starts, twisting around to find the source of the noise, but he can't see anyone or anything. Breathing heavily, he dismisses it as the creaky church groaning in its old age and turns back towards the front door only to stumble backwards in surprise.
Standing in front of him is a man in ragged, bloody clothes, the tattered greatcoat draped over his shoulders doing nothing to hide the weakly bleeding wounds peaking through his ripped shirt. His face is dark with blood, dirt, and dried tears. He stares at Ianto with a hungry, broken look.
"Sir," Ianto tries to keep his voice steady, "Are you...are you alright? Do you need an ambulance?"
The man jumps as soon as Ianto suggests an ambulance. His hands fly up and grab Ianto's shoulders and he violently shakes his head.
"N-n-no!"
Ianto blinks at the man, slowly reaching up and nudging at one of the large hands on his shoulders. "Sir, I think you need medical attention. Please, let's go to my office and I'll call some-"
The man growls as he twists his hands in Ianto's shirt, yanking Ianto close to his face. Ianto tries to keep his breath calm and steady even as he smells the overwhelming copper and whiskey on the man. "No. Authorities."
Ianto blinks rapidly. "Sir, please let go of me."
The man shakes his head again, the movement rattling through the man's whole body and making him shake Ianto's body in the process. "Promise."
Ianto gasps, trying once again to pull away from the man. "I-I...I promise. Now, please, let me go."
The man springs away from Ianto, gulping in air as he paces back and forth in the tiny aisle between rows of pews. "I shouldn't have...I shouldn't have come here. I need...I need..."
Ianto steadies himself and takes a step towards the man, hands held out in what he hopes is a comforting, non-threatening gesture. "God is always there for anyone who needs him. He's always willing to listen."
The man whirls to face Ianto again, stalking towards the young priest, anger and fear in his eyes. "Listen? No one is going to listen. Once they find out what I did...it's over. Over. There won't be anyone listening to my side of the story."
Ianto trembles, but stands his ground, letting the other man invade his personal space. "I'll listen."
The stranger shakes his head. He takes another step towards Ianto, finally forcing the priest to take his own step backwards, stumbling slightly down the aisle.
The man's eyes darken as he continues advancing on Ianto. His voice is a raspy whisper. "I killed them. All of them."
Ianto tries, and fails, to bite back a gasp of surprise. The man smirks. "Still want to listen?"
"Let's go to my office. I'll get you cleaned up and you can...you can..." Ianto takes a deep breath, already thinking up the best way to get hep, "You can tell me everything."
Still forcing the smaller man backwards up the aisle, the man smirks, "I won't be telling you anything else, Father."
"Wh-wh-what will you be doing, sir?" Ianto jumps when he feels his back touch the edge of the altar. He blinks up at the man, trying to control his shaking. The stranger, the killer, steps closer, caging Ianto with his body.
"I'm going to take care of you." The stranger moves closer, nuzzling his nose along Ianto's jaw line. Ianto trembles under the touch, desperately urging his body to move, to push the stranger away and run for help.
His voice drops to a shaky whisper. "Please, just...just let me go."
The stranger smirks against Ianto's skin, shifting up towards Ianto's ear. His bottom lip drags along Ianto's cheek as he murmurs, "No."
The one small word breaks Ianto’s trance-like stillness and he brings his hands up, shoving at the man. The man stumbles away from Ianto, who stares at him in surprise for a moment. He hadn’t thought that would work. His brain kicks into gear and he takes off to the side door leading to the back halls of the church. He slides on the linoleum, body slamming against a beige wall as he tries to get to the exit, or a phone, before the man catches him again.
Ahead of him, he can see the open door to his office. Panting and putting on a burst of speed, he fumbles his way through the door and throws himself against his desk. His fingers try to pick up the phone, his movements frantic and jerky in his panic. He finally grips it in sweaty fingers, pressing it against his ear, trying to calm his other hand enough to call 999. His heart slams against his ribcage; he waits to hear the phone ring, but there's nothing. Just silence.
A dark chuckle breaks through the roaring in his ears and he slowly turns around, phone still pressed against his ear. He freezes in place when he sees the stranger standing in the doorway, a wicked smirk decorating his dirty face and a dangling phone cord in his hand.
"You're mine now, Father."
Ianto shakes his head, backing away from the stranger once again. "No, no, please, just...just...let me go! I promise I won't tell anyone you were here! I promise!" His voice breaks, "Please?"
The stranger shakes his head as he advances on Ianto until Ianto is pressed against the edge of his own desk. The man reaches past Ianto and pushes the rest of the things on Ianto’s desk off onto the floor before he wraps an arm around Ianto’s waist. He shoves slightly, pushing Ianto up and back down onto the desk.
Ianto starts babbling, "Please, just...just let me go!" His body shakes as he scrambles against the dark wood, trying to escape. The man smirks at him, shedding the tattered great coat from his body and climbing atop Ianto.
"I told you. No."
He closes his eyes, willing away the tears. The stranger leans close, brushing his nose against Ianto’s. “Open those pretty eyes, Father. I want to see your tears.”
Ianto chokes back a sob, twisting his head away from the stranger, eyes closed so tight he can see stars. He squirms in a desperate attempt to crawl out from under the man, and freezes in horror when he feels something long and hard pressing against his thigh. His eyes fly open and he finds himself staring in the dancing blue eyes of his captor. He can’t suppress the whimper clawing its way out of his throat as he lays frozen on the hard desk.
“Oh, Father,” The man smirks, leaning down and dragging a tongue along Ianto’s bottom lip, “I’m going to enjoy this.”
The wet slide of tongue pressing between his lips jerks Ianto from his terror once more and he bites without thinking. The man rears back as he brings a hand up to his mouth. He glares, backhanding Ianto hard enough that the priest’s head is forced to the side and he bites his own tongue by accident. Ianto lets out another small whimper at the coppery taste of blood that bursts through his mouth.
The man reaches down and grabs Ianto’s chin, forcing him to look at his captor once more.
“You won’t do that again, I trust?”
Ianto glares, “Someone will come for me. You’ll be caught. You won’t get away with this. ”
He laughs, almost manically, before he climbs off Ianto. He slides a hand into Ianto’s hair and yanks Ianto off the desk, forcing the young priest down to his knees. With his free hand, he fumbles with his belt and zipper.
“Don’t you get it, Father? I already have.”
The man digs his fingers into Ianto’s scalp as he pulls out his cock. He drags the tip along Ianto’s lips, smearing precome over his skin like a garish lipstick. Ianto clenches his teeth, trying as best he can to pull away from the man with no luck.
Growling, the man uses Ianto’s hair to force his head back as he leans down close to Ianto’s face. “The more you resist, the worse it will be, Father.”
Ianto glares up the man, wrinkling his nose in thought. After a moment, he purses his lips as though he’s about to open them. The man leans back a fraction, smirk sliding back into place before he jerks, hand sliding out of Ianto’s hair in surprise. He bares his white, white teeth at Ianto as he reaches up with a gloved hand and wipes away the glob of saliva Ianto spit at him.
“You want to play like that? Fine.” He kicks off his pants and pauses to pull free the belt. The man steps back to Ianto and loops it around the priest’s neck, tightening it so Ianto can barely breath.
Ianto gasps in horror, hands automatically coming up to claw at the worn leather. He struggles to pull away, but the man just tightens his grip on the belt and yanks him forward. The man grins and presses the tip of his cock against Ianto’s lips. Ianto keeps his mouth shut, still clawing at the belt. The man growls under his breath and pulls the belt just a touch tighter, forcing Ianto to open his mouth in a desperate gasp for air.
Ianto squeezes his eyes closed as he lets his mouth fall open, a sick anticipation filling him as he waits for the unfamiliar taste of the man’s penis. He cringes as the slightly salty taste of precome dances across his tongue. The man above him groans loudly, thrusting his cock as far into Ianto’s mouth as he can.
The priest gags, tears breaking past his closed eyelids as he tries to force his mind away from the situation. The man pulls back, tip of his wet cock resting on the edge of Ianto’s bottom lip. Ianto instinctively gasps for air, only to choke when the man thrusts back into his mouth unexpectedly.
“Such a pretty, dirty little mouth for such a holy man.”
Ianto barely hears the man’s words through the buzzing in his ears. His hands go limp against the belt and he gives up trying to escape.
“Ooh, yes, that’s it, Father, give in. I’m going to hell and I’m taking you with me.”
The man pulls his cock from Ianto’s mouth. Using the belt, he drags Ianto over to the plush soft chair in the corner of Ianto’s office. He throws Ianto to the ground, belt falling from his neck. Ianto lays, half in the chair, half on the floor, gasping for air.
“On your feet!”
Ianto doesn’t move as he breathes too fast and ends up coughing, saliva flying from his mouth to land on the cushion below him. The man rolls his eyes and grabs Ianto by the back of his shirt collar, yanking him up to his feet. “Clothes. Off. Now.”
He doesn’t move, lashes wet with tears as he tries to glare at the man. The man leans close, sneering, “If you don’t take them off yourself, I’ll do it for you.”
Ianto shakes, unable to move from his spot. The man glares and growls again.
"Fine, I'll take it off for you then."
He grabs Ianto and yanks him around. Fisting his hands in the black shirt of Ianto's chosen profession, he rips it apart. Ianto can't stop the gasp that falls from his lips and he automatically brings his hands up to try and pull the shirt back together again. The man smirks, shoves Ianto's hands away and runs his own large hands over Ianto's pale, bare skin. Ianto tries to push the man away, hands fumbling and sliding against the man's still-clothed chest in an attempt to make him stop. The remains of the black shirt hang limply from his body as the man wraps his hands around Ianto's biceps, holding him hard enough to bruise.
The priest whimpers and ducks his head in silent submission. The man's face transforms into a brilliant grin, teeth shining bright in the dim light of Ianto's office. He leans forward, pressing a surprisingly gentle kiss to Ianto's forehead before he snarls and shoves Ianto down onto the chair. He kneels in front of the priest, sliding his hands along Ianto’s thighs, pressing Ianto’s legs apart when Ianto tries to close them. His hands brush along the bare skin of Ianto’s stomach as he pulls the button and zipper of Ianto’s pants open. He glances up at Ianto, whose eyes are squeezed tightly shut, and grins, leaning forward to press a light, gentle kiss to Ianto’s stomach. Ianto’s eyes fly open and he stares at the man in surprise. The man winks as he stands back up and reaches out slowly. Ianto watches his hand move closer warily. The man fists his hand in the ripped left side of Ianto’s shirt and pulls him back up to his feet. Ianto lets out a shriek of surprise as the man shoves Ianto’s pants halfway down his thighs and slams his hand across Ianto’s bare ass. The priest yelps, struggling to push away from the man, who laughs and wraps an arm around Ianto’s torso, pulling Ianto flush against him.
“There really is no point in struggling, Father. You will be mine.” His breath is warm over Ianto’s ear and Ianto shivers against the man, goosebumps breaking out across his bare skin. The man chuckles quietly, running a deceivingly gentle hand over Ianto’s chest, thumb teasing Ianto’s left nipple for a moment before the man abruptly pushes Ianto forward.
Ianto falls against the soft warmth of the chair with a quiet grunt. He flails, trying to bring his hands under him so he can push himself back out of the chair, but the man slaps a hand against Ianto’s black-covered back, holding Ianto in place. Ianto squeezes his eyes shut, breathing in short, panting breaths as he holds back tears. A large, spit-damp finger presses against Ianto’s hole and he tenses.
“Ssssh, Father, it’s ok, just relax. I’ve come to absolve you of your sins.” The finger pushes past the tight ring of muscle and Ianto lets out a quiet whimper at the intrusion. He clenches tighter, body taunt with the need to run away from the man above him. The man presses him harder into the cushions and curls his finger within Ianto, making the priest gasp in startled pleasure. He shakes his head against the fabric of the chair he knows he will never sit in again.
The man swears under his breath and pulls his finger from Ianto. Ianto hears the man spit and another whimper of fear bursts from his lips as he realizes just what the man is going to do. He struggles harder, kicking out with his legs and the man swears once again, grabbing Ianto’s collar and dragging him back over to the desk.
Grabbing the belt from the floor, the man shoves Ianto face down against the desk. He forces Ianto’s legs wider and uses the belt to tie his ankle to one slender desk foot. The man does a cursory glance around the room before he steps away from Ianto and jogs over to one of the windows in Ianto’s office. The curtains over the windows are ornate and heavy, held back by thick gold rope. The man pulls one of the ropes free and jogs back to Ianto, looping the rope around his other ankle. Stepping back, the man licks his lips at the sight in front of him.
“Much better, Father, much better indeed.”
Again he steps up behind the young priest, a small thrill of perverse excitement running through him as the priest trembles in fear. He runs a large hand over Ianto’s pale cheeks before he pulls back and smacks him hard. Ianto jerks against his restraints with a cry, arms flailing in an attempt to either hit the man or get away from him. The man slams his hand over Ianto’s ass again, and a third time, grinning to himself as the skin begins to turn a bright red.
Ianto bites his lip trying to hold back another cry of pain as the man’s hand slaps across his stinging skin again. He feels the skin break under his teeth and once again, a coppery taste slides along his tongue. His body shakes almost violently with the need to get away, but he’s trapped; caught at the mercy of a mad man who wants nothing but to hurt him in one of the most devastating ways possible.
The man spits onto his hand, smearing the barely-there makeshift lube over his leaking cock. Another quick spit has the man spreading more saliva over Ianto’s tense hole. The priest squeezes his eyes shut once again, tears building behind his lids as the man presses himself along Ianto’s back and pushes slowly, painfully past the tight ring of muscle.
A scream bubbles up Ianto’s throat and presses against his closed lips until his mouth finally falls open and releases the sound. He’s consumed by the burning pain boiling at the base of his spine and spreading out through his limbs.
The man shudders, forcing himself deeper and deeper; relishing in the scream that he rips from Ianto. He forces himself to still when he bottoms out, savouring the simple control he has over this young priest he's only just met. The rest of his life is spinning madly out of control. He's running from the police, there's blood on his hands, and his greatcoat is ruined, but right here, right now, he's in complete and utter control and it's fantastic.
Ianto squirms underneath his attacker, his legs tugging helplessly against the restraints. A small shiver of hope runs through him when he feels the rope loosen just a tiny bit, but a sudden movement from his captor causes another cry of pain to fall from his lips. The man pulls out of Ianto and slams back into him in one swift movement. Every inch of his hard cock burns inside Ianto; piercing not only his body but his soul with the violating madness of the stranger above him.
A bright burst of pleasure blossoms inside Ianto as the stranger twists his hips and brushes what he can only assume is his prostate. He gasps in surprise, more tears slipping down his cheeks as he tries to deny his body's reaction. His shirt and back are slick with his own sweat; slick with his sweat mixed with the man's sweat and blood. His cock is half-hard against the desk and his tears continue sliding freely down his cheeks to pool atop the dark oak of his desk. Absently he notes he'll need to get a new desk - if he gets out of this alive.
His attacker brushes his prostate again and Ianto squeezes his eyes shut as he groans quietly, trying to hide the sound. Behind him, the man laughs, one of his large hands sliding around Ianto's hip to wrap around Ianto's cock.
"Tsk tsk, shame on you, Father." He strokes Ianto's cock once, dragging another groan from Ianto before he releases him and grips Ianto's hip once again. Ianto whimpers at the loss, hating himself for wanting the man to touch him again as the man laughs.
Warm, wet heat presses against Ianto's shoulder through the black shirt as the man slams into Ianto faster and faster. His teeth press against Ianto and he tenses, frantically trying to ignore the part of him that wants to be bitten.
"Please, please" His voice is a broken orchestra of whispering pleas, "stop, just...stop. Pl-please."
The whimper, the begging, the complete brokenness beneath him finally sends the man over the edge and he slams into Ianto once final time. He empties himself deep inside Ianto's hot channel. The man slumps against Ianto's back, panting harshly over Ianto's filthy shirt.
Ianto presses his forehead into the desk, sobbing quietly. He's ruined, completely and utterly ruined and all he wants is the man to go away and leave him in his new personal hell.
After what feels like forever, the man pulls out of Ianto - the priest hissing in pain, come and blood trickling out of his used hole. Ianto twists on the desk, turning to the man.
"Are you going to...are you going to untie me?"
He grunts at Ianto, slapping Ianto's still sore ass once again before he turns to find his pants. He pulls them on and walks around the desk to stand in front of Ianto, who peers up at him, fear and anxiety dancing in his blue eyes. The man leans forward and pats Ianto's cheek several times, each pat harder than the last. He smiles wide, teeth blindingly white in the dim of Ianto's office lamp.
"Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned." He winks and Ianto's nose twitches, lips curling into a sneer. He doesn't bother holding back, biting at the man, who darts back with a laugh before leaning close again to press a chaste kiss against Ianto's broken lips. As he pulls away, Ianto spits at him once again. The man growls, stalking back around the desk and reaching down to pull the rope and belt off of Ianto's legs. He grabs Ianto's collar and throws him down to the floor. His foot embeds itself in the soft flesh of Ianto's stomach and the man leans down. He slides a hand into Ianto's hair and pulls the priest's face up to his.
"Tell anyone and you'll be meeting your precious God sooner than you thought."
Ianto glares up at him even as his insides swirl with tension, fear, and hate for the man who has stolen everything from him, but he nods silently. The man grins before reeling back and punching Ianto, sending the priest back to the floor.
The man kicks him one last time before he snatches his ruined greatcoat off the floor. He throws it over his shoulders and storms out of the room.
Ianto lays curled in a mess of come, sweat, and blood. He stares, unblinking, at the wall, silent tears sliding down over the bridge of his nose to join the mess on the floor.
Mrs. Williams hums quietly as she unlocks the front doors of Cardiff Church. She swings the basket on her arm as she toes off her wet boots and heads towards the kitchen.
Her hand automatically reaches out to flick on the church lights, but she stops when she notices they’re still on. Anixety swells in the pit of her stomach as she inches further into the building. Father Jones never leaves the lights on, just like he never misses a sermon or a cup of coffee.
Setting the basket full of fresh muffins down on a sidetable just outside the sanctuary, she picks up a hefty candlestick and creeps her way towards Father Jones’ office.
The brown door is closed and Mrs. Williams closes her eyes, taking a deep breath before she twists the knob. Slowly the door creaks open and Mrs. Williams drops the candlestick in horrified surprise. Tears fill her blue eyes and she wants to run, but she cannot move.
On the office floor in front of her lays Father Ianto Jones. He is wearing only the tattered remains of his uniform. Tears, sweat, blood, and come are congealed around his body. He stares up at her, his eyes wide and unblinking. A belt is lashed tightly around his neck. He does not breathe.
Alternate, happy ending here
Pairing/Characters: Ianto Jones, Jack Harkness, Jack/Ianto
Warnings/Spoilers: No spoilers. NON-CON. CHARACTER DEATH.
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 4117
Beta: None, all mistakes are mine, I apologize.
Summary: Father Ianto just wanted to lock the church up for the night and go to bed, what he got was far worse.
Notes: This is my first time writing actual porn as well as non-con, just a warning.
Ianto sighs, tilting his head from side to side to stretch the kinks out of his neck before he glances at the clock on his desk. He’s surprised when he sees it’s past nine o’clock. Mrs. Williams, the lovely old woman who volunteers twice a week to, well, Ianto doesn’t actually know what she does, but she had stopped in around seven to tell him she was off home and that he should be too. He had told her he would only be another half hour at most.
Shaking his head to clear it, he stands and meanders towards the door, pausing once to straighten a photo on the wall of his cream-colored office wall.
He hums a dreary hymn as he walks towards the sanctuary of the church to make sure it’s empty and clear so he can lock up for the night.
Ianto steps into the sanctuary, breathing a quiet sigh of relief when he sees the room is empty. He wanders down the aisle towards the front doors. Suddenly, there's a noise from behind him and he starts, twisting around to find the source of the noise, but he can't see anyone or anything. Breathing heavily, he dismisses it as the creaky church groaning in its old age and turns back towards the front door only to stumble backwards in surprise.
Standing in front of him is a man in ragged, bloody clothes, the tattered greatcoat draped over his shoulders doing nothing to hide the weakly bleeding wounds peaking through his ripped shirt. His face is dark with blood, dirt, and dried tears. He stares at Ianto with a hungry, broken look.
"Sir," Ianto tries to keep his voice steady, "Are you...are you alright? Do you need an ambulance?"
The man jumps as soon as Ianto suggests an ambulance. His hands fly up and grab Ianto's shoulders and he violently shakes his head.
"N-n-no!"
Ianto blinks at the man, slowly reaching up and nudging at one of the large hands on his shoulders. "Sir, I think you need medical attention. Please, let's go to my office and I'll call some-"
The man growls as he twists his hands in Ianto's shirt, yanking Ianto close to his face. Ianto tries to keep his breath calm and steady even as he smells the overwhelming copper and whiskey on the man. "No. Authorities."
Ianto blinks rapidly. "Sir, please let go of me."
The man shakes his head again, the movement rattling through the man's whole body and making him shake Ianto's body in the process. "Promise."
Ianto gasps, trying once again to pull away from the man. "I-I...I promise. Now, please, let me go."
The man springs away from Ianto, gulping in air as he paces back and forth in the tiny aisle between rows of pews. "I shouldn't have...I shouldn't have come here. I need...I need..."
Ianto steadies himself and takes a step towards the man, hands held out in what he hopes is a comforting, non-threatening gesture. "God is always there for anyone who needs him. He's always willing to listen."
The man whirls to face Ianto again, stalking towards the young priest, anger and fear in his eyes. "Listen? No one is going to listen. Once they find out what I did...it's over. Over. There won't be anyone listening to my side of the story."
Ianto trembles, but stands his ground, letting the other man invade his personal space. "I'll listen."
The stranger shakes his head. He takes another step towards Ianto, finally forcing the priest to take his own step backwards, stumbling slightly down the aisle.
The man's eyes darken as he continues advancing on Ianto. His voice is a raspy whisper. "I killed them. All of them."
Ianto tries, and fails, to bite back a gasp of surprise. The man smirks. "Still want to listen?"
"Let's go to my office. I'll get you cleaned up and you can...you can..." Ianto takes a deep breath, already thinking up the best way to get hep, "You can tell me everything."
Still forcing the smaller man backwards up the aisle, the man smirks, "I won't be telling you anything else, Father."
"Wh-wh-what will you be doing, sir?" Ianto jumps when he feels his back touch the edge of the altar. He blinks up at the man, trying to control his shaking. The stranger, the killer, steps closer, caging Ianto with his body.
"I'm going to take care of you." The stranger moves closer, nuzzling his nose along Ianto's jaw line. Ianto trembles under the touch, desperately urging his body to move, to push the stranger away and run for help.
His voice drops to a shaky whisper. "Please, just...just let me go."
The stranger smirks against Ianto's skin, shifting up towards Ianto's ear. His bottom lip drags along Ianto's cheek as he murmurs, "No."
The one small word breaks Ianto’s trance-like stillness and he brings his hands up, shoving at the man. The man stumbles away from Ianto, who stares at him in surprise for a moment. He hadn’t thought that would work. His brain kicks into gear and he takes off to the side door leading to the back halls of the church. He slides on the linoleum, body slamming against a beige wall as he tries to get to the exit, or a phone, before the man catches him again.
Ahead of him, he can see the open door to his office. Panting and putting on a burst of speed, he fumbles his way through the door and throws himself against his desk. His fingers try to pick up the phone, his movements frantic and jerky in his panic. He finally grips it in sweaty fingers, pressing it against his ear, trying to calm his other hand enough to call 999. His heart slams against his ribcage; he waits to hear the phone ring, but there's nothing. Just silence.
A dark chuckle breaks through the roaring in his ears and he slowly turns around, phone still pressed against his ear. He freezes in place when he sees the stranger standing in the doorway, a wicked smirk decorating his dirty face and a dangling phone cord in his hand.
"You're mine now, Father."
Ianto shakes his head, backing away from the stranger once again. "No, no, please, just...just...let me go! I promise I won't tell anyone you were here! I promise!" His voice breaks, "Please?"
The stranger shakes his head as he advances on Ianto until Ianto is pressed against the edge of his own desk. The man reaches past Ianto and pushes the rest of the things on Ianto’s desk off onto the floor before he wraps an arm around Ianto’s waist. He shoves slightly, pushing Ianto up and back down onto the desk.
Ianto starts babbling, "Please, just...just let me go!" His body shakes as he scrambles against the dark wood, trying to escape. The man smirks at him, shedding the tattered great coat from his body and climbing atop Ianto.
"I told you. No."
He closes his eyes, willing away the tears. The stranger leans close, brushing his nose against Ianto’s. “Open those pretty eyes, Father. I want to see your tears.”
Ianto chokes back a sob, twisting his head away from the stranger, eyes closed so tight he can see stars. He squirms in a desperate attempt to crawl out from under the man, and freezes in horror when he feels something long and hard pressing against his thigh. His eyes fly open and he finds himself staring in the dancing blue eyes of his captor. He can’t suppress the whimper clawing its way out of his throat as he lays frozen on the hard desk.
“Oh, Father,” The man smirks, leaning down and dragging a tongue along Ianto’s bottom lip, “I’m going to enjoy this.”
The wet slide of tongue pressing between his lips jerks Ianto from his terror once more and he bites without thinking. The man rears back as he brings a hand up to his mouth. He glares, backhanding Ianto hard enough that the priest’s head is forced to the side and he bites his own tongue by accident. Ianto lets out another small whimper at the coppery taste of blood that bursts through his mouth.
The man reaches down and grabs Ianto’s chin, forcing him to look at his captor once more.
“You won’t do that again, I trust?”
Ianto glares, “Someone will come for me. You’ll be caught. You won’t get away with this. ”
He laughs, almost manically, before he climbs off Ianto. He slides a hand into Ianto’s hair and yanks Ianto off the desk, forcing the young priest down to his knees. With his free hand, he fumbles with his belt and zipper.
“Don’t you get it, Father? I already have.”
The man digs his fingers into Ianto’s scalp as he pulls out his cock. He drags the tip along Ianto’s lips, smearing precome over his skin like a garish lipstick. Ianto clenches his teeth, trying as best he can to pull away from the man with no luck.
Growling, the man uses Ianto’s hair to force his head back as he leans down close to Ianto’s face. “The more you resist, the worse it will be, Father.”
Ianto glares up the man, wrinkling his nose in thought. After a moment, he purses his lips as though he’s about to open them. The man leans back a fraction, smirk sliding back into place before he jerks, hand sliding out of Ianto’s hair in surprise. He bares his white, white teeth at Ianto as he reaches up with a gloved hand and wipes away the glob of saliva Ianto spit at him.
“You want to play like that? Fine.” He kicks off his pants and pauses to pull free the belt. The man steps back to Ianto and loops it around the priest’s neck, tightening it so Ianto can barely breath.
Ianto gasps in horror, hands automatically coming up to claw at the worn leather. He struggles to pull away, but the man just tightens his grip on the belt and yanks him forward. The man grins and presses the tip of his cock against Ianto’s lips. Ianto keeps his mouth shut, still clawing at the belt. The man growls under his breath and pulls the belt just a touch tighter, forcing Ianto to open his mouth in a desperate gasp for air.
Ianto squeezes his eyes closed as he lets his mouth fall open, a sick anticipation filling him as he waits for the unfamiliar taste of the man’s penis. He cringes as the slightly salty taste of precome dances across his tongue. The man above him groans loudly, thrusting his cock as far into Ianto’s mouth as he can.
The priest gags, tears breaking past his closed eyelids as he tries to force his mind away from the situation. The man pulls back, tip of his wet cock resting on the edge of Ianto’s bottom lip. Ianto instinctively gasps for air, only to choke when the man thrusts back into his mouth unexpectedly.
“Such a pretty, dirty little mouth for such a holy man.”
Ianto barely hears the man’s words through the buzzing in his ears. His hands go limp against the belt and he gives up trying to escape.
“Ooh, yes, that’s it, Father, give in. I’m going to hell and I’m taking you with me.”
The man pulls his cock from Ianto’s mouth. Using the belt, he drags Ianto over to the plush soft chair in the corner of Ianto’s office. He throws Ianto to the ground, belt falling from his neck. Ianto lays, half in the chair, half on the floor, gasping for air.
“On your feet!”
Ianto doesn’t move as he breathes too fast and ends up coughing, saliva flying from his mouth to land on the cushion below him. The man rolls his eyes and grabs Ianto by the back of his shirt collar, yanking him up to his feet. “Clothes. Off. Now.”
He doesn’t move, lashes wet with tears as he tries to glare at the man. The man leans close, sneering, “If you don’t take them off yourself, I’ll do it for you.”
Ianto shakes, unable to move from his spot. The man glares and growls again.
"Fine, I'll take it off for you then."
He grabs Ianto and yanks him around. Fisting his hands in the black shirt of Ianto's chosen profession, he rips it apart. Ianto can't stop the gasp that falls from his lips and he automatically brings his hands up to try and pull the shirt back together again. The man smirks, shoves Ianto's hands away and runs his own large hands over Ianto's pale, bare skin. Ianto tries to push the man away, hands fumbling and sliding against the man's still-clothed chest in an attempt to make him stop. The remains of the black shirt hang limply from his body as the man wraps his hands around Ianto's biceps, holding him hard enough to bruise.
The priest whimpers and ducks his head in silent submission. The man's face transforms into a brilliant grin, teeth shining bright in the dim light of Ianto's office. He leans forward, pressing a surprisingly gentle kiss to Ianto's forehead before he snarls and shoves Ianto down onto the chair. He kneels in front of the priest, sliding his hands along Ianto’s thighs, pressing Ianto’s legs apart when Ianto tries to close them. His hands brush along the bare skin of Ianto’s stomach as he pulls the button and zipper of Ianto’s pants open. He glances up at Ianto, whose eyes are squeezed tightly shut, and grins, leaning forward to press a light, gentle kiss to Ianto’s stomach. Ianto’s eyes fly open and he stares at the man in surprise. The man winks as he stands back up and reaches out slowly. Ianto watches his hand move closer warily. The man fists his hand in the ripped left side of Ianto’s shirt and pulls him back up to his feet. Ianto lets out a shriek of surprise as the man shoves Ianto’s pants halfway down his thighs and slams his hand across Ianto’s bare ass. The priest yelps, struggling to push away from the man, who laughs and wraps an arm around Ianto’s torso, pulling Ianto flush against him.
“There really is no point in struggling, Father. You will be mine.” His breath is warm over Ianto’s ear and Ianto shivers against the man, goosebumps breaking out across his bare skin. The man chuckles quietly, running a deceivingly gentle hand over Ianto’s chest, thumb teasing Ianto’s left nipple for a moment before the man abruptly pushes Ianto forward.
Ianto falls against the soft warmth of the chair with a quiet grunt. He flails, trying to bring his hands under him so he can push himself back out of the chair, but the man slaps a hand against Ianto’s black-covered back, holding Ianto in place. Ianto squeezes his eyes shut, breathing in short, panting breaths as he holds back tears. A large, spit-damp finger presses against Ianto’s hole and he tenses.
“Ssssh, Father, it’s ok, just relax. I’ve come to absolve you of your sins.” The finger pushes past the tight ring of muscle and Ianto lets out a quiet whimper at the intrusion. He clenches tighter, body taunt with the need to run away from the man above him. The man presses him harder into the cushions and curls his finger within Ianto, making the priest gasp in startled pleasure. He shakes his head against the fabric of the chair he knows he will never sit in again.
The man swears under his breath and pulls his finger from Ianto. Ianto hears the man spit and another whimper of fear bursts from his lips as he realizes just what the man is going to do. He struggles harder, kicking out with his legs and the man swears once again, grabbing Ianto’s collar and dragging him back over to the desk.
Grabbing the belt from the floor, the man shoves Ianto face down against the desk. He forces Ianto’s legs wider and uses the belt to tie his ankle to one slender desk foot. The man does a cursory glance around the room before he steps away from Ianto and jogs over to one of the windows in Ianto’s office. The curtains over the windows are ornate and heavy, held back by thick gold rope. The man pulls one of the ropes free and jogs back to Ianto, looping the rope around his other ankle. Stepping back, the man licks his lips at the sight in front of him.
“Much better, Father, much better indeed.”
Again he steps up behind the young priest, a small thrill of perverse excitement running through him as the priest trembles in fear. He runs a large hand over Ianto’s pale cheeks before he pulls back and smacks him hard. Ianto jerks against his restraints with a cry, arms flailing in an attempt to either hit the man or get away from him. The man slams his hand over Ianto’s ass again, and a third time, grinning to himself as the skin begins to turn a bright red.
Ianto bites his lip trying to hold back another cry of pain as the man’s hand slaps across his stinging skin again. He feels the skin break under his teeth and once again, a coppery taste slides along his tongue. His body shakes almost violently with the need to get away, but he’s trapped; caught at the mercy of a mad man who wants nothing but to hurt him in one of the most devastating ways possible.
The man spits onto his hand, smearing the barely-there makeshift lube over his leaking cock. Another quick spit has the man spreading more saliva over Ianto’s tense hole. The priest squeezes his eyes shut once again, tears building behind his lids as the man presses himself along Ianto’s back and pushes slowly, painfully past the tight ring of muscle.
A scream bubbles up Ianto’s throat and presses against his closed lips until his mouth finally falls open and releases the sound. He’s consumed by the burning pain boiling at the base of his spine and spreading out through his limbs.
The man shudders, forcing himself deeper and deeper; relishing in the scream that he rips from Ianto. He forces himself to still when he bottoms out, savouring the simple control he has over this young priest he's only just met. The rest of his life is spinning madly out of control. He's running from the police, there's blood on his hands, and his greatcoat is ruined, but right here, right now, he's in complete and utter control and it's fantastic.
Ianto squirms underneath his attacker, his legs tugging helplessly against the restraints. A small shiver of hope runs through him when he feels the rope loosen just a tiny bit, but a sudden movement from his captor causes another cry of pain to fall from his lips. The man pulls out of Ianto and slams back into him in one swift movement. Every inch of his hard cock burns inside Ianto; piercing not only his body but his soul with the violating madness of the stranger above him.
A bright burst of pleasure blossoms inside Ianto as the stranger twists his hips and brushes what he can only assume is his prostate. He gasps in surprise, more tears slipping down his cheeks as he tries to deny his body's reaction. His shirt and back are slick with his own sweat; slick with his sweat mixed with the man's sweat and blood. His cock is half-hard against the desk and his tears continue sliding freely down his cheeks to pool atop the dark oak of his desk. Absently he notes he'll need to get a new desk - if he gets out of this alive.
His attacker brushes his prostate again and Ianto squeezes his eyes shut as he groans quietly, trying to hide the sound. Behind him, the man laughs, one of his large hands sliding around Ianto's hip to wrap around Ianto's cock.
"Tsk tsk, shame on you, Father." He strokes Ianto's cock once, dragging another groan from Ianto before he releases him and grips Ianto's hip once again. Ianto whimpers at the loss, hating himself for wanting the man to touch him again as the man laughs.
Warm, wet heat presses against Ianto's shoulder through the black shirt as the man slams into Ianto faster and faster. His teeth press against Ianto and he tenses, frantically trying to ignore the part of him that wants to be bitten.
"Please, please" His voice is a broken orchestra of whispering pleas, "stop, just...stop. Pl-please."
The whimper, the begging, the complete brokenness beneath him finally sends the man over the edge and he slams into Ianto once final time. He empties himself deep inside Ianto's hot channel. The man slumps against Ianto's back, panting harshly over Ianto's filthy shirt.
Ianto presses his forehead into the desk, sobbing quietly. He's ruined, completely and utterly ruined and all he wants is the man to go away and leave him in his new personal hell.
After what feels like forever, the man pulls out of Ianto - the priest hissing in pain, come and blood trickling out of his used hole. Ianto twists on the desk, turning to the man.
"Are you going to...are you going to untie me?"
He grunts at Ianto, slapping Ianto's still sore ass once again before he turns to find his pants. He pulls them on and walks around the desk to stand in front of Ianto, who peers up at him, fear and anxiety dancing in his blue eyes. The man leans forward and pats Ianto's cheek several times, each pat harder than the last. He smiles wide, teeth blindingly white in the dim of Ianto's office lamp.
"Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned." He winks and Ianto's nose twitches, lips curling into a sneer. He doesn't bother holding back, biting at the man, who darts back with a laugh before leaning close again to press a chaste kiss against Ianto's broken lips. As he pulls away, Ianto spits at him once again. The man growls, stalking back around the desk and reaching down to pull the rope and belt off of Ianto's legs. He grabs Ianto's collar and throws him down to the floor. His foot embeds itself in the soft flesh of Ianto's stomach and the man leans down. He slides a hand into Ianto's hair and pulls the priest's face up to his.
"Tell anyone and you'll be meeting your precious God sooner than you thought."
Ianto glares up at him even as his insides swirl with tension, fear, and hate for the man who has stolen everything from him, but he nods silently. The man grins before reeling back and punching Ianto, sending the priest back to the floor.
The man kicks him one last time before he snatches his ruined greatcoat off the floor. He throws it over his shoulders and storms out of the room.
Ianto lays curled in a mess of come, sweat, and blood. He stares, unblinking, at the wall, silent tears sliding down over the bridge of his nose to join the mess on the floor.
Mrs. Williams hums quietly as she unlocks the front doors of Cardiff Church. She swings the basket on her arm as she toes off her wet boots and heads towards the kitchen.
Her hand automatically reaches out to flick on the church lights, but she stops when she notices they’re still on. Anixety swells in the pit of her stomach as she inches further into the building. Father Jones never leaves the lights on, just like he never misses a sermon or a cup of coffee.
Setting the basket full of fresh muffins down on a sidetable just outside the sanctuary, she picks up a hefty candlestick and creeps her way towards Father Jones’ office.
The brown door is closed and Mrs. Williams closes her eyes, taking a deep breath before she twists the knob. Slowly the door creaks open and Mrs. Williams drops the candlestick in horrified surprise. Tears fill her blue eyes and she wants to run, but she cannot move.
On the office floor in front of her lays Father Ianto Jones. He is wearing only the tattered remains of his uniform. Tears, sweat, blood, and come are congealed around his body. He stares up at her, his eyes wide and unblinking. A belt is lashed tightly around his neck. He does not breathe.
Alternate, happy ending here