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deanbrainrotwritings · 9 months ago

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— DEMONOLOGY AND HEARTACHE

SUMMARY : dean is a devout catholic and has never known a life outside the church, all his resolve is broken by the temptation of a hellish seductress

PAIRING : priest!dean winchester x demon!reader (f.)

CHARACTERS : none

WARNINGS : explicit(18+), smut, p in v, oral (m. receiving), corruption kink, praise kink, priest au, priest kink, sub/dom dynamics, sub!dean, defiling holy stuff

WORD COUNT : 4.9k

A/N : title from an atreyu song. dean’s not undercover, just pure corruption. I’m going to hell. my sister said his seed is holy, lmaoo. this one fills my “Go to hell!”/“Where do you think I came from?” square for my @jacklesversebingo card. enjoy Dean’s holy seed (and I’m sorry if y’all are religious, I used to be religious, too, to make it worse) XX

Green eyes illuminated by moonlight. They flit across the dark and empty space of the nave casually. There’s a draught that makes him shudder, but he remains unphased. He makes sure the lights are off, double checks that the doors and windows are closed, and continues onward to his room to rest for the night.

He’s still in his vestments, blending in with the darkness. He only becomes darker in the shadows of the hallways, making his way to the staircase leading to his room. The wooden stairs creak beneath his formal shoes, olden oak that’s more silent in the day, thunders in the silent dark.

A crucifix greets him when he’s at the top of the staircase and he makes the sign of the cross automatically, but slowly, with reverence. Moonlight kisses his delicate features; green eyes twinkle like a billion stars, gold lashes like the lustre of the sun’s reflection on the moon’s surface, freckles show clearly now beneath the exposing light.

His splendour is unmatched even inside the grand cathedral.

He makes his way blindly to his bedroom and wipes a hand over his stubble, scratching lightly at his jaw, thoughtfully planning out his next day. He gets to his room and begins to toe off his shoes as he pushes the door open all the way.

He expects moonlight to strike his face, but it’s quiet and dark. He can smell firewood and something foul, unfamiliar. He thinks nothing of it, he can feel the breeze pushing between his curtains, and assumes it’s something outside. He turns around to shut the door and holds the wall for balance as he pulls his shoes off all the way.

“Father,” he hears a soft voice, unknown to him. He turns quickly, half-scared, half-confused: how did someone get up here and why is there a woman in my room? were the first questions asked in his mind. The dim light on his bedside table lights up his room and reveals a nun in her nightgown sitting on his bed.

He recognises her now and relaxed, only slightly. She’s new and arrived two weeks ago. Sister… something or another; it’s been a busy couple of weeks.

She watches him curiously, her brows furrow and her eyes mysterious. She leans back casually on her arms, too relaxed for his comfort. The top of her nightgown undone, two strings hang loosely over her breasts. A chill teases his spine and rides up to the top of his head, prickling the freckled skin of his body. He doesn’t move.

“What are you doing here?” He asks quietly, offering his hand to her to get her to stand from his bed. She stares at it indifferently. “You should be in your quarters,” he adds, reaching out for her arm instead.

“I’ve been thinking about what I confessed to you yesterday, Father,” she murmurs, shaking her arm out of his hand. He sighs tiredly, but smiles kindly at her anyway. He can’t remember her confession, everyone confesses multiple times about multiple things, and goes to him—searching for repentance.

“You’re forgiven, you need to move forward,” he reassures her.

“I don’t think I can,” she replies almost instantly. He raises a brow, but lets her continue. “Does that… make me a bad person?” She asks, concern and guilt laces her voice.

“No, it makes you human.” He purses his lips and takes her soft hand in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “You should sleep, we can talk tomorrow,” he tries again, loosening his grip on her cool hand, but she keeps holding onto it.

He narrows his eyes, his jaw clenches when she lifts her cotton gown. He raises a brow when she’s standing up on her knees, and a crease forms between his eyebrows. Her other hand curls around the back of his neck and he opens his mouth to question her, moving back slightly. Instead, her grip becomes firm and her warm lips press against his lips and he stiffens, confused.

He can feel her hand around his wrist moving and her gown ruffles. He feels her warmth beneath his fingers, wetness against his fingertips, that makes him gasp and pull away. He snatches his hand away from between her legs and sees that she’s smiling knowingly.

“What are you doing?” He asks in disbelief, but his heart is pounding, sending blood to his cock. “You need to leave,” he clears his throat. Heat, like hellfire, washes over his body, and turns away to hide himself when his face flushes and his cock twitches.

“Come on, Father,” she murmurs provocatively. He closes his eyes and breathes deeply before turning to face her with a glare. “I know what you’ve been dreaming of,” she laughs mischievously, sitting back on her legs. She pulls down the top of her nightgown, freeing her breast to play with her nipple. Her other hand moves down between her legs, she opens herself by parting her legs, and starts to tease her wet slit while he watches.

“Go to hell!” He shouts at her, looking away and trying to get out of his room. He reaches the doorknob and gets the door open only for it to slam shut.

“Where do you think I came from?” She asks darkly, and his stomach sinks. He shakes the doorknob wildly and pulls as hard as he can, but it doesn’t budge. He feels her hand grab the back of his shirt and she flings him across the room so he lands on the bed. He scrambles up on it and tries to get away when her eyes flash completely black. “You’re getting rusty, Dean, ignoring all those omens,” she shakes her head and tsks, climbing up on the bed with him.

He thinks about what she says, he never thought much about the mutilations because of the wolves that roam freely, or the electrical storms because of the cold and the usage of heaters, or the crop failures due to the weather. He shouldn’t have brushed it off, but he hadn’t encountered demonic activity in years. This whole time, it was circling him and he didn’t even notice.

“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus,” he starts to whisper, grabbing the rosary from around his neck. “Omnis satanica potestas, omnis incur-” She grabbed the rosary from him roughly, quieting the exorcism from continuing, and stared at it with a wicked smile before pulling it harshly.

“That won’t work on me, baby.” The beads fell over his body when the rosary snapped. Wooden beads and black beads bounce on his bed, then scatter loudly onto the floor, rolling and sliding across wood until they stop on their own or hit a wall.

“You… you were making me dream all those things,” he accuses breathlessly. She nods wordlessly, stepping in between his parted legs with her hands on his bent knees. She bites her lip, stares lustfully at the black attire he wears. A holy man.

“I know… you liked it,” she whispers, causing him to swallow nervously. “I watched you pleasure yourself every time you woke up,” she admits shamelessly, fingers meeting his belt to get it off. He squirmed and grabbed her hand to stop her, but his cock was hard just remembering his hedonistic actions and the lewd dreams that haunted him every night for weeks. “What was it like dreaming of how soft I feel? Do you think your hand feels as good as I do inside? Do you want my mouth like you loved using it in your dreams?” She continues to tease, leaning over him, hands sliding up the front of his body.

He was warm and taut beneath her hands. His body hums with pleasure, he aches to touch her despite knowing it was wrong. He craves to feel her body beneath his own, wrapped around him so tightly. He hates himself for it, but it’s all his mind could think of, especially when he could feel her warm breath over his tingly lips.

“What do you want from me?” He asks quietly, staring deeply into her black eyes. She blinks and they return to normal eyes again, a sweet smile growing on her face. It could’ve fooled him, that warmth that sparkled inside—it must actually be hellfire.

“I want you to beg me to fuck you, I want you to need it really bad,” she whispered hotly, tracing the buttons on his shirt. He swallowed anxiously, but he couldn’t resist the temptation of her pink lips and soft skin, supple breasts in plain sight, smooth thighs pressed against his. His whole body longed for the feel of her lips, her hands, for everything of hers to be on him.

“I… I can’t do that,” he choked out. He grabs her hands and moves them away from his body then scoots up on his bed to put some distance between them.

“You can,” she encourages him with a wicked smile, crawling up to him. “You will,” she promises, reaching between his legs for his belt.

He squirms, weakly attempting to push her away because that’s what his instincts told him to do. She’s a demon, he’s a priest. She is unholy and he’s supposed to be an intermediary for God, Jesus, the angels, the Holy Spirit, and everything else that’s good. He can’t just lay with a woman, especially when she comes directly from hell.

She didn’t make a single move. She just waited for him and her hair fell prettily over her shoulder when she tilted her head at him expectantly. Her skin looked smooth and her lips were pink and they looked soft. He could easily remember what they looked like around his cock in his dreams. He didn’t want to give in to her, he spent years in the church, he has every scripture memorised, and he’s helped hundreds of people without expecting so much as a thanks.

But he wanted to really feel what he’d felt in his dreams for two weeks. He craved it like he’d never craved sex before—or anything else for that matter. Here, in a holy place was a very sexy woman in his bed, a woman who crawled her way out of hell and became fixated on him. For weeks, she tormented him, planted herself in his dreams and gave him glimpses of her in real life as a nun covered from head to toe.

Now, she sat between his legs, with nothing underneath her sleeping gown. The pure white dress hid the true darkness of her soul. He rubbed his fingers together, though they were dry, his slacks tightened just remembering the feel of her wet folds against his fingertips. He’d never been this hard and desperate before, it usually went away quickly when the guilt of his libidinous thoughts consumed him.

He’d never done anything bad before, never strayed from his teachings or from the rules. Here she was, tempting him to take a bite of her, tempting him to give himself to her for her pleasure, for his pleasure. Demon or not, no one’s ever gone out of their way to get to him, that was a messed up thought, but it turned him on.

“Please,” he chokes out. It shocked him. He stared at her in surprise, but she just looked back at him arrogantly. Slowly, as if waiting for his protest, she tugged his belt and got the leather out of the buckle. He started to breathe heavily, aroused by her gaze and thought of being defiled.

She starts to pull the belt from the loops of his slacks and he willingly lifts his hips when it catches beneath him. He gives in easily when she pops the button out of the slit. He even lets his head fall back into the pillow and rolls his hips upwards when she slowly pulls the zipper down.

She starts to pull his pants down, he can feel the rough scrap of his boxers against his skin when she tries to do it all at once. He doesn’t care anymore, with his thumbs hooked at the sides, he pulls them down with her help. He can feel the cool air kiss his cock, slowly as she exposes him. He moans softly when he’s fully free, he knows there’s precum leaking at the slit, it feels colder.

He feels like a wanton whore and he’s barely made a sound. He can hear the delicate fabric of his clothes hit the floor, it makes him feel more excited.

“Wow, you really are blessed,” she murmurs, her warm breath blowing over his cock. He fists the sheets, feels it twitch instantly, and opens his eyes to stare at her. “It’s just as pretty as the rest of you,” she praises, keeping eye contact with him. He bites his lip and he’s about to respond with a ‘shut up’ when she lets a string of her saliva drip onto his tip.

The words catch in his throat. She leans forward, her soft hair falls over her face, and her tongue makes contact with the warm head of his cock. He doesn’t know what to do with himself when she hums at the taste of him. His body stiffens and it feels even better than he dreamed. When he lets his head fall back into the pillow, he catches a glimpse of the crucifix over his bed. She turned it upside down.

“Father,” she whispers, “don’t look away from me.” He looks back at her, her soft hands manoeuvre his body so he has his knees bent upwards again. He feels exposed, vulnerable, sinful, and dirty.

“Don’t call me that,” he requests softly. He reaches for her jaw to guide her back down onto him. That excites her, he can see her eyes livening. His stomach flutters.

“Dean,” she sneers when she wraps her hand around the base of his cock and starts to twist her hand upwards. He growls lowly, shyly lifts his arm, and puts it over his eyes. “I prefer calling you Father. It makes this way hotter. Don’t you think?” She asks teasingly and then laughs.

“No….” He trailed off, spreading his legs a little wider when she leaned forward to kiss his stomach.

“Call me whatever you want, Father,” she whispers against his skin, trailing her lips downwards as she jerks him off. “Whore, demon, hellspawn… Sister,” she smirks when he whines, then sucks on his hip bone. A red mark blossoms on his skin. “I’m so wet,” she tells him, teasingly flattering her palm over the tip of his dick, “this is the most fun I’ve had in ages.” He watches the little smirk on her face and while he’s curious about what she does in hell, he can feel his impending release.

“Please,” he begs quietly. It makes her stop instead. She puts one hand on the inside of his thigh and spreads him open the way a man would do to a woman and she stares down at him curiously. He wiggles to close his legs but she’s stronger than he is, and keeps him as she has him. She pulls gently at his balls, then pushes, and eventually finds a pace where it starts to feel more intense.

“Jesus Christ,” she murmurs with a chuckle, “you’re so fucking sexy.” He flushes at her words and watches her lean down to suck on his balls. He moans loudly and tangles his hand in her hair, then tugs so she moves upwards. “You’re built like a god, any man would be jealous,” she teases, letting him guide her.

“Do what you did in my dreams,” he suggests, then slid his hand down her shoulder and inside the top of her nightgown. He fondled her breasts and innocently held eye contact with her.

“What did I do?” She asks playfully, placing one small kiss on his leaking cock. He glares at her, but she shrugs like she has no idea what he’s talking about. She continues to tease him instead, bites down on his thigh and sucks until he’s whining.

“Please, suck it,” he begs bashfully, pulling his hand out of the gown. She moves up his body, he’s sure it’s to embarrass him when she stares down at him.

“Suck what?” He groans at her question, lifts both hands to tug frustratedly at his hair. She moves away nonchalantly, slowly begins to lift the white gown upwards, revealing inch by glorious inch of her perfect body. He watches her touch herself with his mouth parted in astonishment, her hands play with her breasts and she teases herself between her legs.

“Suck my cock, please, I want to feel your mouth,” he rushes out quickly. He sits up and takes her waist, dragging her forward until he has his warm mouth on her nipple.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good, Dean,” she promises, playing with his hair. She rubs her thighs together and lets him switch from one nipple to the other. He stares up at her the whole time, his eyes shimmering with lust. “I hope this haunts you forever,” she sneers. Giving his hair a sharp tug to move him away forcefully and go down on him. He grunts softly and wraps his hand around his cock, slowly sliding a dry hand up and down.

“That’s my job,” she scolds, slapping his hand away. She settles between his legs, and without warning, she wraps her lips around the tip, sending a sharp electric feeling running up his spine. It’s unbelievable how wet she feels around him, how warm her mouth feels engulfing him inch by inch. His stomach becomes taut with the way she runs her tongue along the bottom vein, sucking when she lifts up slightly, then does it over and over.

Her slowness drives him crazy. She was merciless in his dreams, passionate and focused on making him reach the ultimate pleasure, but now, she’s just torturing him. One of her hands follows her mouth and the other slides up his chest beneath the buttoned black shirt. Her nails scrape his chest gently but her fingers brush teasingly against his nipple. He arches his back and moans loudly, he doesn’t care that the night amplifies his voice and carries his pretty noises quickly down the halls of the holy church.

She slides her hand away from his chest and blindly finds his wrist. He grips the sheets tightly, moaning and groaning. The sounds he made travelled to her clit, it pulsed, her walls clenched around nothing, and she dripped between her legs with a flood of warm heat. He let her place his hand on her head, his fingers tangled in her hair. She’s not going to give him what he wants, she wants him to take what he wants. It’s the ultimate goal for her, to make him loosen up and fuck her mouth.

“Please, I want…” he trails off, both his hands now resting on her head. She drools around his cock and hums when he pushes her down farther. She wants to shove him deeper into her, to take him fast and hard, but it turns her on more to make him needy and desperate. To make him be the one that uses her demonic mouth and hellish body for his pleasure.

She holds onto the back of his thighs and pushes them so they’re almost at his chest. When her nose is pressed against his pelvis and she swallows around him, he holds her there.

“Oh, Jesus,” he moans, his balls draw inwards and his stomach coils. She moans softly and starts to pull off him, only to start sucking and bobbing her head up and down just as he wanted her to. He gets louder somehow and rougher, his grip on her hair is almost painful. The sounds of her throat getting fucked makes him shudder and squirm. He needs to cum so bad. “Yes, don’t stop…” he breathes out.

She hums again, he thought it was a promise that she wouldn’t stop, but when he makes that specific grunt he tends to make when he’s about to cum and when he stiffens and gasps, the warmth of her wet mouth is replaced by the drag of cool air from the room.

He whines and his eyes fly open. He watches her smirk and wipe her mouth with the back of her hand. She still has one hand on his thigh, bending him and keeping him open. He gets shy again, but she doesn’t let him keep his dignity. She gets closer to him and she leans over him to whisper, “you taste so good, Father, I’d imagine it’s all the holy fuckery you consume and spew to others…”

“It turns me on. You make me so wet and needy. Your mouth is mine.” She kisses him softly, even though her words offend him. He glares at her for her blasphemy, but his eyes close when her soft, sweet lips make contact with his. The tenderness of her kiss fools him, takes his mind off her offensive expressions, and keeps him complacent.

Her tongue prods at his lips. Her lewdness makes him eager, she’s thorough, licking across his lips slowly. When he opens his mouth to her, her kiss is hungry. She traces the inside of his mouth with her tongue, like a cartographer, she’s precise and she makes him breathless. She barely pulls away, allowing him to catch his breath temporarily before resuming.

She’s warm when her tongue brushes against his, velvety and sweet. She tastes like wine and fruit, bitter and sweet. The taste of her is divine, opposing her unholy nature and the filthy words she uses to worship him. She pulls away again and straddles his hips. He barely recovers from her kiss when he feels her rub herself over his cock.

He feels his stomach do flips like a dog excited to show his master tricks for a treat. She moans softly and continues rolling her hips. He bends his knees and grasps her thighs painfully, watches between their bodies how she slides her wetness up and down his cock. She begins to unbutton his shirt and carelessly throw the clerical collar behind her when she fully gets the shirt open.

“Wait,” he stops her breathlessly, “is this your body?”

She raises a brow and looks down at herself with a nod. “Had to dig it out of a hole in the forest. I was a witch, a badass one. Those stupid hunters,” she grumbles the last bit under her breath, lifts herself up and positions his tip at her entrance. He raises a brow, too, a smile of amusement grew on his lips as he bit down on it. “Why? Do you like it?” She smirks, but his response is cut off by a moan when she lowers herself on his cock.

She feels even better than he dreamed. He huffs out a breath, he feels sweatier with the shirt and the suit jacket he still wears, but if she doesn’t feel like letting him take it off, he doesn’t mind. She grinds down on him and finds his hands to place one on her breasts and the other between her legs.

“You feel fucking amazing inside me, Dean,” she praises. His stomach lurches, the use of his name turns him on more, and he bucks his hips up. With a little moan she starts to lift herself up, he can feel every inch of her against his cock, the wetness, the warmth. He doesn’t think he’ll last as long as he did in his dreams. He carefully thumbs between her folds and feels for her clit. Her gasp guides him and he gently flicks it until she’s riding him faster. She leans back against his bent legs, arches her back, and he squeezes her breast roughly. “That’s right, you’re doing so good,” she says softly, spreading her legs to open herself more to his adept fingers.

Her words spur him on, the bedsprings start to squeak, the headboard starts to hit the wall, the upside down crucifix rattles on the wall. His senses are high. She feels amazing wrapped around his cock, her breathy moans fuel the fire of his orgasm. She tightens and squeezes around him, walls clamping down and keeping him inside her. He starts to get louder, too, he can’t help it. Groans slip from his lips and he whimpers occasionally, he can feel her react each time, and he doesn’t plan on shutting up.

“You’re so good, so goddamned perfect,” she cries softly, it’s the hottest thing he’s heard or seen. She gets sloppy and desperate, staring down at him covetously. He stares back, even if he wants to shut his eyes and hide away from her gaze. He rubs around her clit faster and watches her fall apart, little by little.

She sounds, looks, and feels even hotter. In his dreams, he understood her intentions and how hot it would be if they had sex, but the reality of it is far more intense and intimate compared to any of his dreams. She filled his mind with fantasies he’d never had before. Having sex in the confessional, on the altar, in the Bishop’s office, and countless locations that were far too holy—in his opinion—being defiled by both of them. He pinches her nipple roughly, she moans and tightens around him. Then, he flicks her clit faster, watches her seize while whining his name.

“Be a good boy and cum for me, Dean. Want you to fill me up,” she says breathlessly. He throbs inside of her and whimpers involuntarily, feeling himself spill inside her as if his body worked according to her commands.

“God,” he moans, bucking his hips upwards. He abandons her clit and her breast, and bruisingly digs his fingers into her thighs. He moans softly, letting the orgasm take over his body and mind. He pulls her down with both hands on her hips and keeps her on his cock shortly, her walls flutter and she inhales sharply. “You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, his eyes half-open.

“Holy fuck,” she gasps, toes curling as she falls apart at the sensation of his cum warming her up. She slowly moves up and down, letting him feel every inch of her pulsing walls along his throbbing cock. Her fingers find her clit to intensify and lengthen her orgasm, finishing what he’d begun. She doesn’t expect his tenderness, but he sits up and tangles his hand into her hair and kisses her deeply.

He mimics how she’d kissed him earlier. His inexperienced tongue traces the roof of her mouth and he brushes his tongue timidly against hers. She deepens the kiss, encourages him to keep doing what he wants to do and tugs his hair. His quiet moans make her horny again and he pulls away. Now that she’s abandoned her clit, she shoves his clothes off his shoulders.

She kisses his neck and his chest. His mind starts to drift now that he’s basking in the afterglow, her lips ghost downward and she lightly touches his nipple with the tip of her tongue. He stiffens and focuses on her again. She moves off his softened cock which is coated in a mixture of their release. She chuckles and then beholds him in his entirety.

He glows and he’s flushed, pink and shiny with sweat. His cock rests on his thighs and he has a mark on his hip from her lips. His lips are swollen, almost red from biting them, coated in saliva—hers and his. His hair is a mess, sexy and soft. He looks guilty now, but she moves forward and looks him in the eyes when she licks the cum off his sensitive cock.

“Don’t worry, Father,” she murmurs before sucking gently on the tip. He gasps and clutches her hair, pulling her off him forcibly. “Even for this… they’ll forgive you, Dean,” she whispers darkly. She gets off the bed and he watches her walk to the small altar he has. She steals a white cloth then walks around his room curiously. She stops in front of a photograph of Jesus and she opens her legs to clean herself.

His eyes widen as he watches her, “hey, come here.” He takes her attention away successfully and watches her drop her leg to walk towards him. “Why are you interested in me?” Is the first question that comes to mind as he panics. “Will you… be less interested in me if I sin more, like we did tonight?” He has the feeling part of her interest in him is simply the fact that he is the weakest, the most susceptible to sin, lust, and making mistakes.

“No… because you’re not going to stray from your beliefs,” she reassures him. “You actually believe, because of your father. Stay the way you are, Dean. You’re going to repent and you’ll mean it, but when you’re with me… you’ll sin again and I’ll defile you, over and over,” she smiles down at him and then climbs onto his bed again, she settles behind him, leaning against the headboard and the wall.

“Until when?” He asks, turning around to look at her.

“I don’t know,” she shrugs, then her eyes flicker down to her body. She parts her folds with two fingers. “Taste me,” she tells him. He tears his eyes from her face to look between her legs. His mouth waters and he slowly gets down into his stomach and stares back up at her. He gently prods her clit with his tongue, her other hand moves into his hair while his tongue slides between her two fingers. “Don’t you worry about the when right now… you and I will have our fun.”

➥ god, if you are above

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yutafrita · 9 months ago

Text

An Angel, my Angel, and Me — PT. 3

⊹˚. ♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⊹˚. ♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⊹˚. ♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⊹˚. ♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⊹˚. ♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖

Navigation…. Preview // One // Two // Three

[Feat. Soyeon, Yangyang, Eunseok, and Yuqi]

Chapter Warnings: Religious imagery and lore (primary Catholic), potentially occult imagery, court room drama, mentions of angelic police force/criminal system, small allusions to depression/ suicidal ideation (it’s a very small blink and you miss it moment)

Genre: Fake married, court room drama, romcom

Word Count: 4.5k

CHAPTER THREE- 12 ANGRY ANGELS

Your local public library allowed people to rent out rooms. Some used these free spaces for book clubs, others used it for work or school projects, and as it turns out, Shotaro used them for nephilim meet and greets.

You paced in circles outside of the library, Sungchan having his arms crossed as you did so.

“You don't have to go,” he repeated this for the third time in ten minutes.

“I know, but I want to.”

“Then why have you been out here pacing for the past ten minutes?”

You groaned in frustration, stopping in your tracks. You wished you could drag Sungchan into the meeting room with you, but Shotaro made it extremely clear that you were to come alone and ready to speak to others. You couldn’t help it- Sungchan made you feel safe. He didn’t have to do anything but be around you and you could feel perfectly at ease.

“Hey,” Sungchan put both of his hands on your shoulders, “it’s going to be just fine. Plus, I’ll be out here the whole time if you need anything.”

“Thanks… I appreciate it,” you forced a nod. Your relationship with the angel at this point was a tangled ball of yarn that gave you a headache whenever you attempted to pull at the threads. You found yourselves holding hands when no one was looking, being around each other all the time despite Sungchan not needing to be around you at all hours, and have even stolen a few more touches than just the occasional kiss.

“Good luck, now go!” Sungchan lightly shoved your shoulders and pushed you towards the front door.

You stumbled as you entered, earning a surprised look from the librarian. Standing up tall, you approached her desk.

“Hi, where is the meeting room for,” you stopped your whisper to look at the club name Shotaro had texted to you only to then say it through gritted teeth, “the Catholic Geologist club?”

“Second floor game room,” she nodded before extending her hand, “here is a pamphlet with all of the clubs offered here.”

“Thank you,” you politely took it before you followed her directions. Considering how painfully underfunded the library was, you wondered how Shotaro could even justify the space he had the group taking up. That was until you entered the room.

The space was the size of your living room and was broken up into thirds. The left hand side contained a few rectangular tables all covered with board games and card games. The right hand side was wall to wall filled with arcade machines all buzzing with life and ready for use. The center third is what surprised you. It was filled with fold out chairs and every seat was taken and facing the door.

“There she is!” Shotaro had popped out from the side of the door, slinging an arm over your shoulder in his excitement. “Welcome the newest member of the Nephilim meetup group!”

The 15 people gathering all smiled and cheered, the warm buzz in the room helping set you at ease. Shotaro pointed to the singular empty chair in the front and you scooted into the spot.

“Welcome, I’m Yuqi,” the girl to your right introduced herself to you as hushed discussions fell amongst the group.

“Hi, nice to meet you!”

“Don’t get too close to Yuqi, she inherited her angel grandma’s ability to change memories,” the guy to your left cut in. You were nervous about being caught in a spat before you saw the smirk forming on his and Yuqi’s lips. “I’m Eunseok, I’m half angel.”

You introduced yourself and timidly added, “my… father is the angel.”

You hadn’t really admitted it to yourself. Your Mom had told you that she met your Dad in a whirlwind romance she had on a study abroad trip in Japan, and by the time she got back, she was pregnant without any way of contacting him. Your Mom, your grandparents, and the rest of her large family all leant a hand, and you never sought out more information since you didn’t think there was any. So, learning that he was an angel… it needed time to sink in.

But, saying it out loud was still a good first step.

“All right everyone!” Shotaro called everyone's attention, a clipboard waving in his hands. “You guys know the deal- first two minutes is roll call, next ten minutes are whatever y’all want to discuss, and then it’s game time,” he then met your eyes, “and our rules state that any new members have to be a part of the first fight.”

By first fight, they meant playing the first three rounds of Dance Dance revolution.

“I can’t believe the library just has these games,” you muttered as Shotaro set up the first game. He had taken it upon himself to be your first challenger.

“Oh yeah. We’ve been coming here for years so we did a fundraiser last year and were able to fully upgrade the room,” he explained before clapping his hands, “all right, let’s go.”

You typically viewed yourself as being pretty good at rhythm games, but wow, Shotaro really made you question that notion. He wasn’t just pretty good- it was like he was a completely different person when the music came on. You completely lost the game to him but you almost couldn’t even count it because he was a complete monster in the game.

“I’ll go!” Yuqi nearly yanked Shotaro off the console after the first song.

“Are you all as good as him?” you asked, still breathing embarrassingly heavy.

“Oh god no- he’s a professional dancer. He was just trying to flex,” she exposed, causing you to look back and glare at Shotaro who could only laugh at being exposed.

You were able to keep up a bit more with Yuqi, both of you smiling and laughing the whole time. You came out on top by only ten points, and considering your miserable defeat beforehand, you considered it a true victory.

“I’ll take this last one!” Eunseok popped forward, and that was when you noticed it. On his back was a set of small, uneven wings. A few others in the room had their own, all different sizes and different variants of shapes and colors- Eunseok’s wings were fully gray.

“You can pick this last song,” you smiled, leaning back on the machine’s bar.

“Oh? Hell yeah,” he chirped. After Eunseok beat you by a few points, you stepped off the machine, finally released from your hazing.

“Wanna play cards?” Yuqi phrased it as a question, but was already grabbing your hand and guiding you to the other end of the room.

The night was wonderful. You were able to laugh and smile with other nephilim, and while you were certainly annoyed by Shotaro’s ominous approach to showing you everything, you were happy to finally have an understanding.

After exchanging phone numbers with Yuqi and Eunseok, you left the club room with a few minutes remaining on the clock. Outside, you felt the soft kiss of fall approaching and you tightened your cardigan as you looked around for Sungchan.

“Meow,” you looked down, seeing the black cat you haven’t seen in ages. You knelt down, confused until his tail angled itself to gesture to something. Following the eyeline, you noticed a set of two angels across the street, both looking down on a tablet before glancing back at the library.

“Troops,” you whispered, earning a nod from Sungchan’s cat form. Scoping him up in your arms, you pressed him close to your chest and started making your way to your apartment. With your shielding abilities and the charm that allows Sungchan to turn into a cat, you were able to breeze by the troops and make the brisk three blocks back to your apartment in one piece.

“I can’t believe they got that close,” you announced once you made it back inside and released the cat. So quickly it occurred within the blink of an eye, Sungchan returned to his normal angelic state, a layer of sweat having formed on his forehead. “I wish you had told me, I would have left sooner-.”

“You have a life,” he was kurt in his response. “I’ll be out of your hair after this trial… I’ll turn myself in as soon as Soyeon gives me the go ahead.”

“I- I’m not bothered by you being around,” you defended, moving towards him, “do… you plan to leave after your trial, though?”

“You can just tell everyone that your husband left you, you’ll gain sympathy points,” he laughed, a hint of bitterness in his tone. You went to grip his arm only for him to turn on his heel and go to the kitchen. “I’m going to make a snack, do you want anything?”

“Sungchan,” you were confused and frustrated, and approached the kitchen with a furrowed brow. “Sungchan, listen to me.”

“Hm?”

“Sungchan, I love you,” the words spilled out like a waterfall. He froze, dropping the jar of peanut butter spread onto the floor as you continued. “You are free to do whatever you want, and I’ll make sure Soyeon still helps but… I can’t pretend anymore. I want you in my life.”

His bottom lip quivered before all you heard was, “no.”

Your blood ran cold, “what?”

“You shouldn’t love me. It’s not good for humans if they do. It’s okay if I love you but-.”

“You love me?” you cut him off, inching closer and closer to him. Sungchan closed the space between the two of you, and wrapped his arms around your waist.

“You idiot, I love you so much it hurts. But… if something were to ever happen to you because of me-.”

“I love you,” you pressed your hands on both sides of his face, “I love you so much. I would do anything for you. But, that’s my choice, not yours.”

He pressed his lips to your forehead before pressing his forehead against yours, “I love you. I want to always be with you, if you’ll have me.”

Eagerly you met his lips in a soft kiss, “I love you too.”

He tucked your hair behind your ear, his fingers trailing down along your neck and leaving goosebumps before he stood up tall and swiftly picked you up.

“What are you doing?” you laughed, now folded over his shoulder as he carried you easily from the kitchen to your room.

“We’re home alone, and we’re in love. We’re going to finally fuck.”

“Oh wow, finally.”

Be that as it was, the jar of peanut butter stayed on the floor the rest of the night.

*********

“The trial is in a week,” Soyeon repeated this sentiment to you as you laid on the couch, pouting. It had been two weeks since you and Sungchan officially began dating, and for one of the weeks he was in Angel jail awaiting trial. “Stop moping.”

“I know your defense is kick ass but what if the jury doesn’t care?” you aired your true worries then. Soyeon was viciously intelligent. On earth her degree was in Public relations, but apparently when she was training to be a guardian she went to the equivalent of angel law school. You knew she was the best defense Sungchan could get, you were terrified by the other angels not being open-minded.

Soyeon shoved your feet off the couch and sat down, sighing as she met your eyes.

“You know, this is why I begged to be your guardian angel.”

You blinked, “what?”

“Your guardian angel had like, four different people he was responsible for. I was implanted as your neighbor just to give a helping hand to any other proper guardians in the area. Anyways, he was never there to help you and you… you were so kind and you cared so much about everyone…”

“I can take care of myself,” you sat up then, before playfully punching her arm, “but thanks, for being there for me.”

“I know you can take care of yourself, but everyone needs a helping hand. Whether they’re a human or an angel.”

“I just hope the jury agrees too,” you folded your hands on your lap, nervous as you continued to spiral.

“They will, because… you’re going to do us both a favor.”

******

“These sunglasses are ridiculous,” you were irritated, but you weren’t going to do much beyond that unless you wanted to have your eyeballs melt out from their sockets and speak in tongues. The sunglasses nephilim needed to wear to be able to walk around heaven were bulky, dark, and would typically not allow any natural light enter.

Heaven did not contain any natural light.

Soyeon was holding you firmly in her hands, her wings emitting golden flecks as she maneuvered around the busy courthouse to guide you to where you would have to wait before taking the stand.

“Well, sorry they didn’t have any designer sunglasses. Next time you have to be a character witness for your boyfriend I’ll bear that in mind,” she sassed before stopping in front of a tall oak door. “This is the room you’ll be sequestered in until the court officer comes to get you. I think it’s going to be a troop member… unless they want to scare you.”

“Isn’t a troop member scary enough?” you asked, arms crossed as you looked around the hall. While most people had bright white wings, you did see the occasional pair of black wings or other people like you with a thick pair of sunglasses.

“I would say a Saint would be scarier… you’re going to be fine,” she squeezed your shoulder with one hand, realizing the absolute fear your face wore. “The judge presiding over the case on behalf of the Lord is nice, I think we have a chance.”

Soyeon breathed deeply before looking at her wrist watch, “look, just read your book or doodle or stare at the wall. I’m going to make sure your boyfriend can get out so he can pay us back by getting us dinner,” she opened the door for you before maneuvering towards the courtroom entrance and away from you.

The room was relatively bare- a small bookcase, a table with a few wooden chairs, and a floor to ceiling window that was still freakishly bright even with the special sunglasses.

It was bold of Soyeon to assume you’d be able to do anything besides nervously pace for several hours. The trial wasn’t meant to go beyond a week, and according to Soyeon had been going a little better than she anticipated- as in the jury was paying attention and not immediately calling Sungchan a blasphemous heathen.

Thinking back to your time with Sungchan in the last few weeks, you sighed. Sungchan had been wildly nervous, and had taken up your habit of picking at his own cuticles to a point that you started carrying around bandaids in case he accidentally plucked off his skin.

Looking at your own bag that carried your untouched book, you frowned upon seeing the Kero Kero Keroppi bandaids. All you could do was hope that he had stopped picking at them, and if not, hopefully he’d be able to heal quickly. According to Sugchan, Guardian angels were the ones that had relatively indestructible flesh and insane healing abilities. For Fallen Angels, unless they were members of the troop, their healing abilities may be a little faster than humans, but that was it.

“So, can you guys die?” you remember asking.

“Not really, we’ll just have our souls sent to hell,” Sungchan had answered this question with a shrug as if it was no big deal.

Drowning in your thoughts, the door opened. “It’s your time to take the stand.”

Time moved in a blur until you were seated in the witness stand.

“Objection.”

“On what grounds?”

“The witness is in a relationship with the accused and is being guarded by the defendant’s lawyer,” the prosecutor countered. You gulped, trying to keep a straight face as you sat frozen at the front of the courtroom.

“Seeing as there are no rules against either of those factors… you may continue with your testimony,” the judge’s voice was oddly soothing, cutting through the bright gold and white emitted throughout the courtroom. The jurors all but two had bright white wings with gaudy gold flecks, and it refracted the already searing light in the room.

Soyeon cleared her throat and started her line of questioning. You and Soyeon had such a natural way of behaving with one another that you were both visibly struggling to not crack jokes at the other or laugh. Her line of questioning felt like eons, but after looking at the clock above the jury you widened your eyes slightly to see only two hours had passed.

“The prosecution may now approach the witness with any questions,” the judge announced. Your throat ran dry, and you took a short sip of the glass of water in front of you.

The prosecutor sent a short wink to another person on his team before standing tall. He had an arrogant air to him. It surprised you considering that his wings indicated that he too was a guardian angel.

“Thank you, your honor. This will be quick,” he stood between you and the jury before directly meeting your eyes, “ma’am, so to confirm, Sungchan was a vagrant whom tricked you into taking him in by disguising himself as a cat?”

“Objection- leading question,” Soyeon nearly shot out from her seat.

“Please strike that from the record and rephrase your line of questioning,” the judge sighed. You frowned, balling your hand into a fist to try and keep yourself together. You had been avoiding looking at Sungchan, terrified that seeing him would bring you to tears, but you more than anything hoped that he didn’t take what the prosecutor said to heart.

“Sungchan, the accused, disguised himself as what animal?” the prosecutor started.

“In order to keep himself safe he took on the disguise of a cat. His intentions-,” you were cut off by the prosecutor.

“I didn’t ask about his intentions, ma’am,” you watched as he sent a glance of irritation to the jury as if wanting them to judge you, “in the two years he was there, did Sungchan reveal himself to you?”

You shook your head, “no.”

“So, he simply mooched off of you for that time?”

You chewed on the inside of your cheek before you spoke up again, “no, he didn’t. He may not have contributed to the rent, but he did contribute to where we lived, even as a cat.”

The prosecutor seemed irritated by this and cleared his throat before pressing on, “how did he contribute?”

“Well, for starters, my roommate and I aren’t the cleanest people in the world, but we’re the only people on our floor of our apartment complex to not get a roach infestation. Sungchan- or rather Eerie, what I named his cat, was the one that basically guarded us from it all.”

“Was that it?”

“No,” you bit your bottom lip before you continued, “those last two years of my academic career were some of the most emotionally taxing in my life. Having Eerie there to rely on me, be near me, and be a non-judgemental ear was frankly life saving. Sure, Sungchan needed me around to stay safe but,” that was when you finally met Sungchan’s gaze. You choked up a bit seeing a ghost of a tear run down his cheek, and you passed the back of your hand under your glasses to stop a tear from falling before you finished speaking. “He needed me around to stay safe, but I really needed him around to stay alive. He cares deeply for humans… isn’t that what you’re all supposed to do?”

Grumblings and mutters broke-out all throughout the court-room, several of the jurors discussing amongst themselves and angels in the back of the room standing up as if to have a talk with the court officers. The judge hit his gavel loudly, the noises all trickling to a silence after he hit it a second time.

“Do you have any other questions for the witness?” the judge asked, his voice much softer now after hearing you speak.

The prosecution's face was red with anger before he answered, “no, sir.”

******

Soyeon taped up her last box, and you both looked away from each other to wipe away your tears.

It had been five months since Sungchan received his verdicts and sentencing, and in that time you and your best friend/ guardian angel had a lot of conversations. One of which was her deciding to take a job promotion that required her to move to another part of the world.

“Sungchan, you better take good care of her,” Soyeon shoved the taller mans shoulder, his white wings glistening despite the light in your apartment’s kitchen needing to be replaced. You didn’t quite realize that Soyeon provided most of your kitchenware, so you added to your mental to do list that you and Sungchan needed to grab a new skillet.

“Soyeon,” you turned back around after wiping away your tears, “you don’t need to worry about me. I want you to focus on yourself.”

“You better call me… you’re still my best friend,” she was visibly fighting back her tears as she went to grip your shoulders.

“Yes, and now she’s only your best friend,” Sungchan emphasized, placing a hand on Soyeon’s shoulder.

“I can’t believe part of your sentencing was you needing to be a guardian again,” she seethed, a small glint of pride showing itself. She should be proud of herself- Sungchan may have gotten one guilty verdict, but he did get a not guilty verdict on the most hefty charge. She was a miracle worker, no pun intended.

“It just so happens to work out that my old guardian angel was taking on a new job,” you taunted, a laugh escaping you. “What kind of amazing luck is that?”

“Oh please, like I wouldn’t make sure he ended up around you somehow.”

“Soyeon, is this box ready?” Eunseok interjected, gesturing to the box she just closed. Sniffling, she nodded before walking off to instruct another mover in her room.

“I’m gonna miss her,” you confessed, leaning your head on Sungchan’s shoulder.

“I know, I’ll miss her too,” he wrapped an arm around you before pressing a kiss on the crown of your head.

“Hey, you’ve known her forever, I just started being her friend,” Yuqi popped back out from Soyeon’s now empty room, a thin layer of sweat across her forehead. “It’s so not fair that now is when she’s moving.”

“I’ll visit all the time,” Soyeon defended, quickly rushing and obnoxiously pinching Yuqi’s cheeks. “It’s not like I’ll need to pay for airfare or anything.”

“Another perk of having a full set of wings,” Eunseok frowned.

“I’m telling you, Yangyang said he could help out with that,” you reiterated. The weird, eclectic group you had formed over the past few months was shifting again with Soyeon leaving, but you knew it would be okay.

“He’s gonna charge me my life savings- no thanks,” Eunseok pointed, to which Sungchan nodded in affirmation.

Sungchan’s verdicts at the time were shocking enough for news to spread rapidly from guardians, to fallen angels, down to the nephilims.

You dreaded a guilty verdict- but remember the shock of hearing the jury’s decision. Guilty from robbery from the Library of Alexandria, and not guilty for returning the items to the human community.

“The defendant did have to break sacred glass to retrieve the book, therefore we the jury find him guilty of robbery. However, seeing as the items belonged to the human community, regardless of the idolatry harbored in them, it is not considered stolen goods to us, the jury. Therefore, we find Jung Sungchan not guilty on the charge of giving or selling stolen sacred goods.”

“All right,” Soyeon looked down at her watch, “I have to go ahead and deliver my items to get shipped over before I fly out.”

“Wow,” you huffed. You were going to miss seeing her everyday, but you knew that she deserved this promotion more than any other being. You were proud of her, and excited to see where her new guardian job would take her now.

“Please stop crying,” she begged, wiping away tears from her own face. After everyone walked Soyeon off to her car and several hugs and tears were shed (and more tears from you two), your best friend drove off.

“You know you’ll see her in a week, right?” Eunseok poked, earning an arm punch from you, Yuqi, and Sungchan. “Ouch! Sorry!”

You and Sungchan cautiously entered Soyeon’s now empty room, expecting to be stunned by the sudden echo. Instead, you raised your eyebrow at the small crate in the corner with a note on top.

“We figured you’d want an actual cat. Plus, this apartment always does better with 3 inhabitants,” you read the note aloud, looking back at Sungchan who was smiling wildly. “No way.”

“Please let her out of her crate,” he was bouncing on his toes now, eager for you to see what he and Soyeon had presumably been planning for a while. Cautiously, you knelt down, eyes widening as you saw the small black kitten nestled on a bed in the back corner of her crate. Her eyes were shut until she heard your nervous fingers undo the clasp of the crate, her yellow eyes landing on you.

“Oh, hi,” you cooed, opening the door and moving back a few steps to give her space. Sungchan knelt down next to you, your eyes meeting.

“I already scheduled a vet visit for her next week. Soyeon and I both scoured all of the local rescues and agreed that she was the one for you,” he explained before he placed a small kiss on your forehead, “are you happy?”

You nodded eagerly before leaping forward and wrapping the angel in a hug. Sungchan, even when he was the cat, was watching out for you and your roommate. As your boyfriend, he’s gone along with the lie of pretending to be your husband. Now, as being both your boyfriend and guardian angel, he was more perfect than you could even imagine and just so thoughtful.

“I love you, Sungchan,” you squeezed him tightly as he hugged you back.

“I love you, too,” his face was buried in your neck until you felt a small body press itself against your leg. Breaking apart, you looked down to see the cat rubbing its body against you in both a bid to show that it felt comfortable and also to get your attention.

“Oh, she is so cute,” you could cry, gently petting the cat.

“She is, both of my girls are very cute,” he reached forward and scratched behind the cat’s ears, its eyes closing in comfort.

“Now, the big question is, what are we going to name her?” you asked aloud. Figuring out the name of the cat was simply another step in your relationship with Sungchan, and another one you were happy to encounter.

⊹˚. ♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⊹˚. ♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⊹˚. ♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⊹˚. ♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⊹˚. ♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖

More Sungchan

More of my works overall

Tags! @nini0620 @cherriruto @deonuism @90s-belladonna @lesserahyuck @hrjlvrs

Thank you so much for reading <3 please be sure to reblog and interact!

37 notes · View notes

michealsbiggestfan · 6 months ago

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🄶🅁🄴🄶🄾🅁🅈 🄱🄴🄻🄻🄰🅁🄾🅂🄴 ⚔️ 🅇 🅁🄴🄰🄳🄴🅁 🄷🄴🄰🄳🄲🄰🄽🄽🄾🄽🅂

genre: fluff + lemon

gender: female

warnings ⚠️

nsfw + vulgarity

ᡣ𐭩

when gregory first met you, honestly, he wasnt interested.

you were around 9-10, and he had a crush on wendy around that time.

well, that was until she pulled the “fuck him in the ear!” card, which left him speechless.

he had always thought of wendy as a sweet, innocent girl. he was incredibly wrong in that assumption, and regretted ever being there for her during the war once she said that.

which… kinda raised his annoyance with stan. but he wasnt about to ditch christophe just because he didn’t like this town.

so he stayed, and a couple of years went by without either of you ever knowing of eachothers existence. that was until the day that your science teacher paired you both up for a project, considering you and him were on the highest level in the class.

he was still better than you, though 😛

you both decided to meet at your house, and when gregory turned up and met your parents OH they loved him.

at first he kinda annoyed you since he charmed your parents and had a pretty big ego that weighed the same as an elephant on the back of another elephant, but by the time you finished the project, you started to like him as a friend.

you slowly but surely became friends and he would walk you to your locker and classes everyday, checking in on you, greeting you politely, and letting you sit with him and christophe.

he even shielded you from the smoke coming from delorne’s cigs, preventing you from getting second-hand smoke 🙂👍

after a few months, it started getting more romantic.

hand kisses, forehead kisses, buying you your lunch, visiting you and your parents daily, calling you things like “dear” and “love”, holding your hand and even holding you by your hips.

“No, we’re just friends.”

“Mhm, just friends.”

and then you both politely smile at the group of confused girls from your classes.

one day, your parents weren’t home so you invited him over for a movie night, which went both good and unexpected.

since there was a TV in your bedroom, you were on your bed. about 20 minutes into the romance movie when he suddenly started to rub your thigh gently.

“.. Greg, what are you doing?”

your hand would slowly go over his in an attempt to shift it away, but he instead moved his hand off of your thigh to hold yours.

“Showing my platonic love.”

“Platonic love? Love and platonic are opposites.”

“Are they?”

he clearly wasnt paying much attention considering the fact he just let go of your hand to use his curled pointy finger to stroke some hair away from your cheek.

“.. Greg..”

“Mm.”

he would slowly move closer to you and glance down at your lips before back at your eyes, using his thumb and previous finger to lift your chin up.

“May I platonically kiss you?”

nsfw warning ⚠️

one kiss became a makeout session and a makeout session eventually became a “let’s take our clothes off” session.

you were still trying to convince yourself you were just “making platonic love” but clearly you both loved eachother.

the look on his face as he straddled you and thrusted with such soft groans escaping his throat proved his love for you.

and the way you gazed up at him as he pleasured you so well also proved your love for him.

your moans and his groans kept being cut off by you both kissing, the main sound in the room just being the sound of skin slapping against skin.

his usually-slicked-back hair was messy and down now, stray strands hanging down, and you were just a moaning mess.

the feeling of his big cock moving in and out of you was just intoxicating to your sensitive little pussy, but honestly, after this, you would spread your legs and let him rail you anytime he wants.

he felt guilty, considering he was a catholic, and catholics shouldn’t have sex before marriage, but this was too tempting and too sweet of a feeling for him to deny.

“.. o-oh my.. oh.. l-lords please f-forgive me.. a-aaah.. o-oh dear..”

his whimpers honestly just made it 10x more pleasurable for you.

but overall, he’s a sweetheart to you. always take you on dates, which he pays for, and will never let anything harm you.

he even squished a bee in between his pointy finger and thumb because you got scared.

isn’t he lovely? ☺️

#south park #south park headcanons #headcannons #south park x reader #fanfiction #gregory bellarose #gregory of yardale #gregory of Yardale x reader #gregory Bellarose x reader

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maya-chirps · 1 year ago

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Simbang Gabi: The 9 Days Before Christmas

An image of a red parol from Peakpx.com

The Philippines is well-known for its extremely long Christmas celebration that a lot of foreigners often look at with confusion. Traditionally, Filipinos may start putting up their trees, playing festive songs, and counting down to the 25th as early as September in a season that's colloquially called the "ber months" or the "ber months season" (Petrelli, 2021). This period often lasts up until January or February where some houses may still keep their trees and decor pushing as far as March.

Even with this technicality, however, you'd be hard-pressed to find Filipinos truly celebrating from the very beginning of September genuinely ending it by the end of February. Most often, actual celebrations start after Undas, a period encompassing All Saints' Day and All Souls' Day on the 1st and 2nd of November respectively to commemorate the dead, similar but a lot more subtle than other Catholic countries own Day of the Dead like in Mexico's Dia de Los Muertos and Italy's Giorno dei Morti. This time period is often the start of people doing more Christmas-y things such as Kris Kringle activities leading up to the main Christmas party.

The main markers of the true start in itself is the Advent season, which starts on the Sunday nearest to the 30th in Western Churches like Roman Catholicism and leads up to Christmas ("Advent", n.d.). This is where Catholics would go to Church every Sunday leading up to Christmas to light the Advent Wreath until the final candle on its center on Christmas day on the 25th. As the Philippines is heavily influenced by Roman Catholicism, Filipinos follow the Western start of Advent and most celebrations often fall in the middle of this time period. Even the middle of Advent, however, Filipinos have a waiting period to count down before Christmas - Simbang Gabi.

What is Simbang Gabi?

Simbang Gabi (en. night mass; going to mass at night) is a Philippine Christmas tradition wherein Roman Catholic Filipinos would attend mass nine days every single morning or night before the actual Christmas celebration. Traditionally, the masses were held every morning at 4:00 AM from the 16th to the 24th which would then be capped off by Christmas Eve Mass at night or Christmas Mass on the 25th with its early schedule earning it the name Misa de Gallo (en. mass of the rooster) (Lazaro, 2020). In most dioceses, however, they often have an anticipated mass schedule that start a night earlier than the morning masses (Hermoso, 2022).

Besides being called Misa de Gallo, I had also heard the celebration being called Misa de Aguinaldo (en. mass of gifts) in some places. This shares the same name as the similar Puerto Rican tradition Misa de Aguinaldo which is also a nine-day mass held in the morning, typically at 5:00 AM which is also deeply-rooted in Puerto Rican Christmas traditions (Álvarez, 2018).

History

A vintage greeting card posted by the Facebook group Vintage Philippine Islands 1920-1959 (2020)

Being a Christmas tradition, it is not surprising that Simbang Gabi could trace itself back to the Spanish colonial period.

A common misconception of its origins states that the practice first started in Mexico. Hermoso (2018) states that it started on the year 1587 by Friar Diego de Soria of the Convent of San Agustin Acolman when he requested the Vatican to allow church service to be held outdoors because of an overflow of attendees during the Christmas time. Pope Sixtus V later approved of this request and even decreed that these kinds of masses be held in the Philippines at the dawn of the 16th of December. What this doesn't account for was that the practice of going to church for the Eve of Christmas dates back to even earlier than the 16th century.

The cover for an English translation and compilation of Etheria's writings by M.L. McClure and C.L. Feltoe, D.D. (1919)

The first recorded instance of Christians celebrating Christmas by going to early mass leading up to the actual date was first written by Egeria (also called Egeriae, Etheria, or Aetheria), a Christian Galician woman who first recorded it during her travels to the Levant where she notes the early morning masses and festivities from the time of the Epiphany to the Nativity. She writes in her letters later called the Itinerarium Egeriae (en. The Travel Guide of Egeria; The Pilgrimage of Etheria).

"Octave of the Festival. On the second day also they proceed in like manner to the church in Golgotha, and also on the third day; thus the feast is celebrated with all this joyfulness for three days up to the sixth hour in the church built by Constantine (...) And in Bethlehem also throughout the entire eight days the feast is celebrated with similar festal array and joyfulness daily by the priests and by all the clergy there, and by the monks who are appointed in that place (...) and immense crowds, not of monks only, but also of the laity, both men and women, flock together to Jerusalem from every quarter for the solemn and joyous observance of that day." - Egeria, 381-384; The Pilgrimage of Etheria (trans. McClure & Feltoe, 1919):

The practice of attending early morning masses up until the main festivities of the Nativity was later adopted by more Western Christian communties during the time of Pope Sixtus III when he celebrated what is widely considered the first Midnight Mass at the Basilica of St. Mary Major in Rome, not only stemming from the popularity of the Christians from Jerusalem but also the popular belief that Jesus was born at midnight (The Pillar, 2021).

The prayer spoken within the midnight vigil was then called the "mox ut gallus cantaverit" which translates to "when the rooster crows", aptly named because of the early hours the vigil tended to last which then coincided with the crowing of roosters ("Misa del Gallo: origen, historia y por qué se celebra en la madrugada del 25 de diciembre", 2022). The practice was continued by the Spanish with the name Misa de Gallo (also called Misa de Aguinaldo)which later spread throughout the Spanish Empire and could now be seen practiced in countries like Bolivia, Puerto Rico, Venezuela, and of course the Philippines.

There seem to be two variations of this: the nine-day series of masses before Christmas (found in the Philippines, Puerto Rico, and Venezuela) and the single early morning mass before Christmas day (found in Spain and Bolivia). It isn't clear if Spain and Bolivia simply dropped the nine-day tradition or if the nine-day tradition was restarted in these other colonies, however.

In the Present Day

An image of crowds outside a church during Simbang Gabi uploaded to Wikimedia by Erwin Malicdem

Today, the Simbang Gabi continues to be a popular tradtion for most Filipino Roman Catholics, even those who aren't typically as religious most parts of the year. This is given the fact that a popular belief is that when a person completes all of the nine days, they may receive a wish to whatever they desire. This is such a common belief that Bishop Broderick Pabillo, a Manila auxiliary bishop, had to remind people that the point of the tradition is to remember Jesus and his nativity (Punay, 2016). Besides this, it is also a common challenge among Filipinos to try to complete it as is or see how many days out of the nine could they actually attend.

It is not uncommon for churches these days to hold an "anticipated" mass the night before the actual date starting instead on the 15th and ending on the 24th with a Christmas mass, instead of starting on the 16th and ending on the 25th. This newer tradition had come from the reign of Filipino dictator President Ferdinand Marcos Sr. during the Martial Law years in the 70s, when Filipinos were not allowed to go out after a curfew until 4 in the morning (Macairan, 2023). This allowed more people and especially those who may not be able to start their day early or those who may have other obligations in the morning to attend masses at night time, typically at around 6 PM - 8 PM.

The only large controversy that I could remember about Simbang Gabi was back in 2011 when the event was banned from being conducted within the Philippine Center in New York City. The ban came about because of it supposedly violated Canon Law which prohibits religious worship in unconsecrated ground or in other words places that aren't seen as places of worship. In an article by Adarlo & Pastor (2014), Rev. Dr. Joseph G. Marabe, the at-the-time head of the Chapel of San Lorenzo Ruiz and a priest-in-residence at St. Patrick's Cathedral where the ban took place, explains in an interview with news site The FilAm:

"It’s not allowed by law to have Holy Mass in an unconsecrated place. Worship should take place in a sacred place. That was an explanation but not a decision. The Archdiocese decides." - Rev. Dr. Joseph G. Marabe, head of the Chapel of San Lorenzo Ruiz in Chinatown, New York (2011)

The ban was later lifted on 2014 after community leader Loida Nicolas Lewis wrote a letter to the diocese to reconsider the ban which led to the return of the almost 30-year-old tradition that year (Balitang America, ABS-CBN North America Bureau, 2014).

Besides being a huge part of current traditions, a lot of Filipinos, and especially Filipino youth, use the event as an excuse to go out during the night to hang out with friends and even go on dates with their partners. It is not an uncommon sight to see a group of teenagers, often wearing maybe less than typical church clothes, by the edge of the Church seemingly attending mass. Whether or not they're actually being attentive is hard to decipher. Either way, this has led to an explosion of memes almost every year just mocking these kinds of people or making fun of their own.

A screenshot of the "Simbang gabi starter pack" posted by user rhapido on 9Gag.com (2022)

Earlier versions of this meme could be seen posted throughout Filipino social media during the early 2010s

A meme posted by the Facebook page FEU Memes (2012)

The barkada (en. friend group) going to Simbang Gabi had been an older tradition that has found a lot more popularity in the contemporary era because of social media. My mother had told me that she used to use it as an excuse herself back in the 80s to hang out with her friends at night time. This may be a continued past time for especially younger people for years to come.

There's also many street foods associated with Simbang Gabi that may not be unique to the event itself but are nevertheless heavily associated with the event due to their widespread sale during this time period. Foods like bibingka, puto bumbong, kutsinta, and other popular rice cakes dominate the scene which definitely satisfy the hungry parishioners who had, most likely, not eaten breakfast or dinner before going to church. With their strong associations with Simbang Gabii and Filipino Christmas as a whole, I might discuss these on a later date.

Simbang Gabi, from my experience

Growing up and living in the Philippines and especially being raised Catholic within a Catholic town named after a Catholic saint and going to a Catholic school named after another Catholic saint, it probably won't shock you that I, myself, had tried to complete the nine days of Simbang Gabi myself. I had attempted it several times with only maybe trying seriously by myself once in my life. It was quite the experience to just try to dedicate yourself into completing a goal to do something for nine consecutive days straight.

My first attempt was when I was in Junior High and it was with my sister and two people who worked for my parents and had helped watch over us. It was something that I always wanted to try doing and especially since I was gaining a lot more independence at the time so what better to try it out without the rest of the family? With adult supervision, of course.

Since we lived quite away from the actual church, the place was already packed even an hour before the actual mass started. There was barely any seats left and even less standing room leading to a huge overflow of people stuck outdoors, only hearing mass from the outdated speaker system that they had erected in place of the old bell tower.

The mass in our church was often done in the dark during the night out of an deliberate and probably aesthetic choice with only the alter being illuminated by the lights. The rest was lit up by the scattered about Christmas decor throughout the church and the church patio. It always felt like going to some liminal space that other nights at church just doesn't give.

Once the mass has been concluded, people rush out of the doors in thick crowds to find their way into the footpaths leading on to the main town streets. Some opt to stay behind to enjoy the food stalls that had pop-up for the night to eat bibingka, puto, sapin-sapin, and palitaw among other things. Some of the teens had decided to raid the nearby small park and playground as a hang-out spot to talk the night away before they rush home for their curfews. Meanwhile others were just rushing to get home as soon as they can, with people lining up to go to the rudimentary parking space that the church created while the others who didn't own their own vehicles forced to compete for the very few commuter vehicles still riding through the night, hunting for passengers.

This was before we had our own car, so we were with the latter crowds of people, trying to peer through the dark streets only illuminated by the scant Christmas lights that still refused to turn off as the night progressed. Every so often, two headlights excite the crowd and a swarm of them start running in anticipation with not care or tact if they would crush children or separate families all to take a seat on the night jeepneys, some the few commutes left after 9.

My sister was an expert in finding her way through it, reaching out to the doors to form a barricade for herself and the rest of us to prevent others from taking our seats before letting herself in. I still think I would've been left behind if it weren't for her doing that out of sheer competitiveness with the crowds.

We settled into our seats and squeezed in tightly to allow other passengers in so we could all go home as soon as we can. It was a tight but otherwise uneventful commute every night with nothing but tired people waiting for their stops and slowly emptying the once packed vehicle. Since we live in the outskirts of the town, we were often the last few and at times, the drivers would transfer us to other jeeps just so they can go home themselves. This had sometimes instead left us to walk the remainder of the way there through unpaved highway sidewalks.

After a few nights of it, I became more and more reluctant to continue because of the frenzy that it had almost every single night and it was extremely inconvenient for my time and the time of those with me. I didn't complete it then and I hadn't seriously tried until 9th Grade, which honestly was more uneventful.

That attempt was mostly my siblings and I staying in Makati City and Taguig City and going to easily traveled to churches that we could walk to by foot, and high-end malls that have annual Simbang Gabi masses for their shoppers, facilitated by the local diocese and the local fancy church. I was able to complete those easily because I was often dragged either by my siblings or my grandmother who used to never miss a day of church when she was still more active.

It was less about the challenge at that point and more of an obligation which isn't a bad thing and honestly is probably closer to how it should be celebrated.

I hadn't gone to Simbang Gabi since 2019 and I don't have any plans to try this year either. Not really because I don't want to necessarily, but specifically because I physically can't. I still think its pretty fun to do and honestly maybe a good excuse to meet with my friends that I haven't seen in a while. Sadly, I just simply cannot do it now nor in the near future.

Maybe one day I could once again go out at those cold December night to meet my friends and maybe eat some bibingka on my way home but I guess I'll just leave every one else to it.

Sources

Introduction

Advent. (n.d.). In Britannica. Retrieved on 13 December 2023, from https://www.britannica.com/topic/Advent

In The Philippines Christmas Eve Includes A Late Night Street Food Feast, Filipino Christmas, HD wallpaper [image]. (n.d.). Peakpx. Retrieved on 15 December 2023, from https://www.peakpx.com/en/hd-wallpaper-desktop-wxdle

Petrelli, M. (2021, December 20). The country that celebrates Christmas for more than 4 months a year. CNBC. Retrieved on 13 December 2023, from https://www.cnbc.com/2021/12/21/philippines-the-longest-christmas-celebrations-in-the-world-.html

What is Simbang Gabi?

Álvarez, F. (2018, November 22). Una tradición matutina la Misa de Aguinaldo. Primera Hora. Retrieved on 13 December 2023, from https://www.primerahora.com/noticias/puerto-rico/notas/una-tradicion-matutina-la-misa-de-aguinaldo/

Hermoso, C. (2022, December 15). 9-day ‘Simbang Gabi’ begins on Dec. 16; anticipated masses to begin tonight. Manila Bulletin. Retrieved on 13 December 2023, from https://mb.com.ph/2022/12/15/9-day-simbang-gabi-begins-on-dec-16-anticipated-masses-to-begin-tonight/

Lazaro, J. (2020, December 11). The Christmas tradition of Simbang Gabi: After five centuries, this Filipino Christmas tradition lives on. U.S. Catholic. Retrieved on 13 December 2023, from https://uscatholic.org/articles/202012/the-christmas-tradition-of-simbang-gabi/

History

Hermoso, C. (2018, December 15). ‘Simbang Gabi’ a manifestation of the Filipinos’ strong faith in God, says bishop. Manila Bulletin. Retrieved on 13 December 2023, from https://mb.com.ph/2018/12/15/simbang-gabi-a-manifestation-of-the-filipinos-strong-faith-in-god-says-bishop/

Etheria (1919). The Pilgrimage of Etheria (McClure, M., & Feltoe, C. Ed. & Trans.). Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge. Retrieved on 13 December 2023, from https://www.ccel.org/m/mcclure/etheria/etheria.htm (Original work published 384 C.E.)

McClure, M., & Feltoe, C. (1919). [An image of the book cover of "The Pilgrimage of Etheria"]. Retrieved on 15 December 2023, from https://www.ccel.org/m/mcclure/etheria/etheria.htm

The Pillar. (2021, December 21). What time is Midnight Mass?. The Pillar. Retrieved on 15 December 2023, from https://www.pillarcatholic.com/p/what-time-is-midnight-mass

Misa del Gallo: origen, historia y por qué se celebra en la madrugada del 25 de diciembre. (2022, December 24). Marca. Retrieved on 15 December 2023, from https://www.marca.com/tiramillas/actualidad/2022/12/24/63a6c106268e3e7c468b45e8.html

Vintage Philippine Islands 1920-1959. (2020, December 25). A Vintage Greeting Card showing Philippine Christmas… Maligayang Pasko from Vintage Philippine Islands 1920-1959 [image]. Facebook. Retrieved 15 December 2023, from https://www.facebook.com/510513375695362/photos/a.1701322009947820/3595821097164559/?type=3

In the Present Day

Adarlo, S., & Pastor, C. (2014, November 3). Fr. Joseph Marabe breaks silence over Simbang Gabi ban (Part 2). The FilAm: A Magazine for Filipino Americans in New York. Retrieved on 15 December 2023, from https://thefilam.net/archives/16127

Balitang America, ABS-CBN North America Bureau. (2014, September 19). Simbang Gabi returns to NYC after a brief ban. ABS-CBN News. Retrieved on 15 December 2023 from https://news.abs-cbn.com/global-filipino/09/19/14/simbang-gabi-returns-nyc-after-brief-ban

FEU Memes. (2012, December 15). eto yung mga madalas ko makita sa gilid ng simbahan e [image]. Retrieved on 15 December 2023 from https://www.facebook.com/PIYUMEMES/photos/a.210778985704527/317211885061236/?type=3

Macaira, E. (2023, December 15). Simbang Gabi: It’s the mass, not the time. Philippine Star. Retrieved on 15 December 2023, from https://www.philstar.com/headlines/2023/12/15/2318980/simbang-gabi-its-mass-not-time

Malicdem, E. (n.d.) The Bamboo Organ Church or the St. Joseph Parish Church of Las Piñas City in the Philippines during "Simbang Gabi" or Night Mass on Christmas eve. Photo was part of Schadow1 Expeditions coverage of Las Piñas during Christmas season. [image]. Retrieved on 15 December 2023 from https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Simbang_Gabi#/media/File:Las_Pinas_Church_during_Simbang_Gabi.jpg

Punay, E. (2016, December 19). ‘Simbang Gabi’ won’t grant wishes – Bishop. Philippine Star Global. Retrieved on 15 December 2023, from https://www.philstar.com/headlines/2016/12/19/1654920/simbang-gabi-wont-grant-wishes-bishop

rhapido. (2022, November 30). Simbang gabi starter pack [Screenshot]. 9Gag. Retrieved 15 December 2023, from https://9gag.com/gag/a5Xnzgr

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americanwh0resstuff · 6 months ago

Text

God knows I tried

Chapter IV

Paul shifted on Liz's slightly messy couch, watching her walk over with two wine glasses, he looked around, seeing the photographs and papers scattered across the room.

"I'm sorry for the mess..." She motioned to a small printed picture on the table. "I was thinking of blowing that one up for the funeral."

He took the photograph in his hand, an old black and white picture of a young woman, hair in curls blowing in the wind as she sat on the dock, the belle visible behind her. Liz frowned slightly, sitting down next to him and looking at the paper in his hands.

"She was so pretty, when I was a kid people would always tell my friends how they looked like their parents, I never had that, and god do I wish I looked like her..." she trailed off, smiling softly.

Paul lifted his glass, holding it up to her.

"To your mom."

———

A few days passed, it was now Tuesday, the day of her mothers funeral and the day before Ash Wednesday, Liz and Paul had agreed to hold the service today, as her mother loved baking, and today they could celebrate by eating her recipes and sharing happy memories.

Liz got to st Patrick's early, setting up the white roses and lilies, and chrysanthemums, her moms favourite, at least she said, although Liz always had a sneaking suspicion that she only said that cuz they were cheap…

Earlier that morning Sarah had brought the casket in along with some morticians from the mainland, sharing a cup of coffee as Liz watched over her mother, checking to see if her makeup was just the way she wanted, moving loose strands of curls from her face, it was eerie, yet relaxing.

Now it was silent and empty in the sanctuary, she walked up to the open casket, sitting down on the steps in front of it.

“I’m so sorry mom…” she paused “-I should have been here…” The familiar tidal wave of catholic guilt came crashing down, tears threatening to stream down and ruin her makeup.

Guilt for not being there for her mother, guilt that almost everyone in this town was prepping for the funeral in one way or another, Annie, Riley’s mom, had offered to make all of the recipes from the small notes left by her own mom. Erin and Riley were out picking up the printed off memorial cards, and of course, father Paul had been cleaning the church since the early hours of the morning, he’d even left a flask of hot coffee on the front pew with a small note.

“Liz, I hope this brings you at least some comfort,”

He wasn’t there when she arrived, probably trying to give her some space while he prepares for the ceremony.

—————

Now she stood at the doors of the white run down church, the bells tolling above her, deafening.

Father Paul had already greeted her, a calming hand on her shoulder, Liz thought it lingered just a little too long, but she was grieving, obviously overthinking everything.

She stood there, deadpanned, as the congregation pass by, father Paul greeting them one by one

“May the father of mercies be with you, the god of all consolation, be with you.”

After all church goers shuffled in, father Paul motioned for Liz to walk with him to the front pew, watching her take a seat before taking a knee at the steps, then moving to behing the pulpit.

He spoke loud and demanding, yet it simply flew over her head.

“In life, Margaret Bates, cherished the gospel of Christ, may Christ now greet her with these words of eternal life.”

The crowds of mourners respond,

“Come, blessed of my father.”

Elizabeth didn’t even open her mouth.

She sat in silence, not paying attention to the sermon, her eyes were fixed on the large cross behind father Paul, or I guess passed it. It wasn’t until she felt his hand in her shoulder that she snapped out of it.

“Liz, it’s time for your eulogy.”

He shot her a sympathetic smile, taking her hand as she stood up from the pew, letting him lead her to the pulpit.

She cleared her throat, her hands gripping the hard wood before her, legs shaking like jelly as she looked upon the crowd. It took her breath away, such a small community, but the church was full, so much so that the doors were left open, people standing outside to pay their respects.

“I-wow, I just want to thank everyone for coming… my mother was a quiet woman, but I guess she made her mark…” Her eyes shifted across the papers before her, she’d made some notes on key things she wanted to say, but her mind just wandered.

“My mother never had kids of her own, but she took me in, showed me love, took care of me and never made me believe that I couldn’t do anything I set my mind to, she supported me no matter what, pushed me to set my standards high, she told me this island was too small for me, but now looking at everybody here today, I can see that I have all I could need…” She paused, suddenly feeling her stomach drop, feeling all these eyes on her, it was like the air was stagnant.

This was ridiculous, she gave lectures to hundreds of students, taught classes to some of the brightest minds about the most complex theories, but now, just speaking about her own mom, she felt like an ant under a magnifying glass.

She turned her head to see father Paul looking at her, giving her a soft smile.

She took a deep breath.

“Shoot for the stars, worst case scenario, you land on the moon.”

The rest of the speech felt like a blur, her eyes glued to the back of the church as she spoke from the heart, it was only when the lump in her throat became too uncomfortable that she stopped, thanked the congregation and took her seat back in the pews.

As father Paul finished his blessings he encouraged everyone to go to the rec centre, enjoy the home baked goods and share memories, it was time for the burial, and her final wish was to be alone with her daughter, the thought of which made Elizabeth feel guilty and grateful.

#midnight mass fanfiction #midnight mass #father paul #monsignor john pruitt #monsignor pruitt #father paul x original female characters #monsignor Pruitt x original female characters #paul hill fanfiction #father paul hill

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