#i counted them in the shower so i couldnt count the ones on the backs of my legs vry accurately | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

purplelupins · 8 months ago

Text

Lamb

|Midnight Mass|

Father John Pruitt/Father Paul Hill x Fem!

Reader

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI

Word count: 13.5K

Summery: An entire life of being a good girl was a difficult cross to carry...especially in a tiny town with 127 residents on a good day. You kept the town fed and spirits as high as you could, but when a new face steps off the afternoon Breeze, things around you start to change; you don't even know you're in the eye of the storm.

Warnings: nsfw, reader is religious, religious symbolism, ideology, explanations and general conversations of religion, age gap (like this man is 80 technically and he watched reader grow up, and can remember reader as a little girl so if that’s creepy to you then go no further), stalking, manipulation, murder (hello have you seen the show?), drinking of blood, hunting of a person, grief, description of animal death, reader is described as blushing, character death, non consensual help showering, guilt and god maybe more but I think that’s it…this is not really a fix it fic

I invite you to listen to the playlist I made that goes along with the story.

Notes: **please read** This story is told partially from John Pruitt's pov and partially from readers, as such, when it's John's (Paul) it will refer to him as John, seeing as he had no need for the alias when it's from his pov. But when it's from readers, she will be referring to him as Paul Hill. Thank you!

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Crude oil is destructive to say the least. It is thick, and cloying; dense and dark and it holds no mercy for anything it touches. It kills and pollutes and fuses itself to anything it touches like some dependant parasitic bond. Not that it knows any better.

At one time, Crockett Island was a home off the Eastern coast to close to 500 residences. There was a harmony and calmness to that time; back when the island had summer visitors, and talks of an airport, and no one had to worry about how to pay for their groceries or if they could afford to pay for house repairs after a bad storm. Back when people were alive and helped eachother and laughed.

As the Breeze approached the marina of Crockett Island, there was a passenger who stood outside, leaning against the railing as he remembered Crockett when it was a secret haven. Then that horrible accident…Now, it was more akin to a shelter to the last 127 souls who remained. The brisk maritime wind tousled his black curled hair and flickered into his eyes.

Not that he minded too terribly- he didn't mind much of anything.

John Pruitt sucked in a full breath of the sea air- something he hadnt been able to do in decades when his old self's lungs had began to weaken. It nearly brought tears to his eyes to have been blessed with this second chance as he took in the mass of land before him. His home. His duty. John knew what he had to do. A needle of anxiety poked at him as he hoped his large cargo was still safe in the hold of the small ferry. Of course it was, but he couldnt help but worry until it was safely tucked away in the rectory.

His gift.

“I’m here to help…just here to help…” He repeated in his head.

The ferry lurched as it docked, though his sturdy frame barely flinched. John blinked, and adjusted his satchel one last time before coming to the off-boarding ramp. He slowly and shyly looked at the other passengers, and had to press his tongue to his teeth to keep from acknowledging a familiar face that stood only a few feet from him.

Riley Flynn.

It had been years since he had seen that face, and he felt a swell of happiness at the prospect of having another addition to his flock to receive this gift he so eagerly wished to bestow upon them. He could hardly wait to see each face and see them properly with his rejuvinated sight. See how they’ve grown and aged. He couldn’t wait to help them.

John stood off to the side after exiting the boat as he waited for his trunk.

"Whatcha waitin' for?" Came a gruff voice that John knew well.

He turned to see the island handyman, Sturge, and a small smile pulled at his cupids bow, "My trunk…should be the largest thing on there I’m afraid." John said.

Sturge huffed a little, but nodded, "Yeah its comin', you need a hand gettin' it to where your goin' we got a..." The man droned on about helping the man transport his precious cargo, but unfortunately John had inadvertently tuned him out after something had caught his eye; someone to be precise.

It was the shrill chime of a bicycle bell that had initially drawn his attention, though now he was entranced by the young woman riding the very bike that had made it.

The same wind that had combed through his own hair was now blowing yours back as you came to a stop by the small marine building for the fishermen; a large parcel was fastened to the back of your bike. In fact you were so engrossed in calling to the fishermen on the dock, while unfastening the goods from your bike that you didn’t notice the supposed stranger with his brown eyes glued to you. Staring at how the men approached you and tried to sneak a look at what you brought for them; of course he also was not blind to the evident leers you recieved from the same men. Men he knew were married and had children who he had baptised over the years.

Yet here he was practially on their same level as he watched you; transfixed by the way your hair would get caught in the breeze, and how your cheeks were a lovely pink from the cold. how you had a certain incandescence to you that brought up the spirits of the worn down fishermen.

In John's old age, he hadn't been able to see you properly since you were born; cataracts and dementia coupled with a few other ailments made you into a foggy memory for him, even now. But he knew you. He knew you had been a lovely little girl, and had decided to remain on the island and open a small bakery; John could recall Bev mentioning it a few times that you made food for the Crockpot luck each year. He remembered thanking you...not that he could properly appreciate your gift. You were a familiar face to St. Patrick’s, too.

It was only now that he could recall baptising you some twenty years ago when he had just broached 60 years...and he could see what a stellar young woman you had grown into.

Beautiful.

John had mumbled something to Sturge about only needing help to get out of the marina, and his hand gripped the top of his bag absentmindedly as his eyes flickered over you handing out pastries and sweet treats to the men.

You smiled so brightly that it truly must have been one of the many gifts you were given in life from God. Your calling to brighten up the cloudy days of Crockett island.

A patch of sunlight.

As John pulled the crate up the stairs to the rectory and pushed it across the floor, the solitude finally let him start to think. He knocked on the trunk twice, and slumped against the side as his mind began to wander. John Pruitt had been a priest for well over 60 years; he had seen and heard and dealt with just about every scandal, thought, sin, doubt and joy you could think of. Which was why he knew that there was a divine reason behind your delivery to the fishermen coinciding with his arrival.

It was no random coincidence that your face was among the first he saw upon returning. God’s plan was at work, and John felt anticipation fill him at the thought.

You were a good girl, just like your parents raised you to be, and it wasn’t as if you had a reason not to be. You had made a comfortable life after your family had either left or passed. Moving was expensive and you liked the quiet. It was a simple life and an easy one. Habitual and concise.

You went to church on Sundays and attended daily mass with Leeza. She loved your cinnamon rolls, and you liked to sneak a few into her bag. John remembered noticing that after daily mass one day. It made his chest swell with what he told himself was pride and admiration; not pining and adoration. It excited him to see someone so full of life, even if it was quietly. But that excitement was a double edged sword, after all it too made the Father dread it when he felt it in him. That excitement would settle low in his stomach and make him lose his train of thought.

A test. It was all a test.

The first time you saw the man was when you were leaving the dock that morning. It was strange to see a new face on Crockett, let alone a handsome one at that. You had wished you were heading in his direction so as to give him a welcome; he had such a large trunk with him that you wished you could have given him a hand too. But alas you were needed in the opposite way back down Main Street.

You petalled down the road, and dropped off a few more deliveries down the island to the elders who couldn’t venture too far. Your routine every other day from 10:30 in the morning for an hour.

John knew that too. He remembered feeling someone cycle past him with a soft greeting everytime he visited town after mass. Everything was starting to click back into place as his memory was replenished.

You finished your route, and hopped off your bike as you came to the little bundle of shops in town.

You knew Monsignor Pruitt was returning the next day, and you found yourself hopeful that he hadnt exhausted himself…you were also excited for Bev to calm down after weeks of her relentless, poor moods…and that was saying something for a woman who already lacked a pleasant temperament. The Monsignor always seemed to calm her…perhaps it was that she was able to abuse his position for herself-

You took a deep breath to calm yourself as your temper flared at the thought.

The following day, Saturday, was your day to yourself. Your little shop remained closed until Sunday afternoon, and your appreciation for the downtime was great. You took extra time for yourself, and sat down to read that book that you had promised to read last year; tried a new recipe for dinner and baked yourself a fresh batch of cookies. It wasn’t terribly interesting, but it was easy, and you liked that.

As you brushed your hair out for sleep, your thoughts wandered to that strange face you had seen exit the Breeze the day previous. You wondered if he was visiting someone or if he was some kind of inspector for the island…so little happened on Crockett that new faces were so obvious. You were surprised no one had mentioned him during your day at the shop.

You shrugged it off.

It wasn’t your business.

The rosary you clutched as you prayed beside your bed dug into your skin as you squeezed it unconsciously. Some nights your worship came with difficulty…you mind wandered and you wondered if you were doing the right thing…praying to the right god. Not that you would tell anyone that.

You didn’t sleep well that night. Somehow you repeatedly awoke every few hours to a deep sinking in your gut and prickle up your neck that kept you from returning to sleep. The restlessness had you surrendering just before dawn, and you wrapped a thick blanket around yourself as you sat in front of your window that just peaked over the water. Your bleary gaze was heavy, though you felt yourself sober when you swore you saw a dark figure move into the thick bushes. You jumped, and felt your blood freeze, but when you leaned a little closer to look out, there was nothing but the gentle sway of the trees in the wind. It was so easy to dismiss what you had seen as simply your tired mind playing tricks on you.

You rubbed the heels on your hands into your eyes, and sighed as you stood.

Coffee. A coffee was needed.

The dirt road was muddy with the approaching storm that would be on the horizon in a few days. You hoped this one wouldn’t be too damaging.

You followed behind Leeza with Dolly, and told them what you had baked that morning for your shop, while Erin and Wade listened; enjoying how the air smelled of petrichor and pine. There was a comfortable chatter amongst everyone as they grew happy to welcome their Monsignor back to Crockett.

You sat yourself in the middle, in the same seat you always took. After months of Father Pruitt being gone, you routine was beginning to settle again.

The small organ began playing, and you stood to start singing with everyone else, but then as the alter boys passed you and you watched them, there was an unfamiliar voice behind them. You slowed your singing as you were once again distracted; sure enough, there was a much younger man who passed down the aisle in a gold chasuble and his hands held in prayer.

That same man from the dock.

You felt confusion fill you, and evidently you weren’t the only one as the churchgoers exchanged confused glances with eachother. You looked over at Wade, hoping he might look a little less confused as the mayor, but he mirrored every other face.

Knowing you weren’t getting any answers from your peers, you directed your attention to the pulpit as the stranger walked up to it.

“Good morning,” the man began, “I know I’m not who you expected to see this morning. I’m Father Paul Hill, and I was sent by the diocese to fill in for Monsignor Pruitt. Just know that I’m only here to help, and I look forward to meeting you all.”

You blinked in surprise at his explanation, thought you supposed it wasn’t entirely strange- just unexpected. Had something happened? You remembered how so many islanders had advised the Father not to make the journey, and now you were wondering if you all should have insisted harder.

The man looked a little nervous, but hopeful as he looked around to his new flock. But as his gaze passed over yours, you noted it paused for a moment. You smiled a little a him in hopes that it might make him feel a little welcome, and you briefly wondered if he recognized you from the marina.

There was a lilt to his strong, low voice that made you listen. He was compelling and direct; certainly not what you were used to with Monsignor Pruitt. He had always been a wonderful preacher, but for the last decade, he had grown slow and drawling.

You remembered your mother saying something about “It’s not about the sermon or who’s giving it, it’s just about being reminded of god and our mortality in this life.” And while you had always agreed with the sentiment, there was something about being invigorated while at church that was making your fingertips tingle.

You could already tell that Father Hill was appreciated amongst the churchgoers. There was a softness in their weathered faces as he spoke, like he was indeed connecting them to God.

As everyone filed in for the sacrament, you fell in line and felt your palms start to sweat. A part of you was thankful that Bev was there to provide the wine and your…replacement; you didn’t want to have to stop the church proceedings just to explain why you couldn’t drink the wine.

The discovery of your ethanol allergy had come as a distressful lesson when you had first drank the sacrament as a child. You still remembered what a fuss everyone made and how you had been rushed to Dr.Gunning who had only graduated from medical school recently. From then on your Monsignor had been very understanding and blessed your separate cup of grape juice every mass from then on.

When you accepted the wafer, and accepted the smaller cup from Bev, you noted in the back of your mind that the priest before you looked a little shaken as you drank. You paid it no mind- he was new and he likely had his quirks.

But it was no quirk. The Father felt his shoulders sink, and blood drain from his face as he watched Bev hand you that cup. He felt his idiocy fill him, then the subsequent dread and horror that followed his realisation.

You couldn’t drink the communion wine.

You never had.

A flash of the first day you tried it made his head hurt as he recalled how distraught your mother was upon learning what had happened. He tried to push the worried expression on his young face away but he was sure it was now more of a grimace.

You couldn’t accept the gift.

Panic clouded Johns mind as he continued to give the sacrament to each of the islanders. The devil on his shoulder proposed that it simply wasn’t your fate to be given the gift. But John had learned to ignore that horned heathen well, and he knew he must do something to guide you with the rest of his flock.

No lamb left behind.

As you filed out to leave, you walked behind Annie Flynn and her son Riley.

He had left years ago when you were still in your mid teens, and he didn’t exactly leave a lasting impression on a teenager. They stopped for a moment to speak with the new father, and while you wanted to say hello to the pastor, you hated to linger and get in people’s way; you knew you would see the Father again, and so you went to skirt around Annie, but as fate would have it, their conversation ended quickly, and the older woman took you by the arm as her son left.

“This is the beating heart of Crockett herself!” She beamed at you while you stood there suddenly locked in conversation with the young priest.

Annie had always appreciated your positive attitude and good nature. You found yourself always trying to cheer her up on her worst days while she worried herself sick about her husband and her son on the mainland. She was a mother through and through, and you often held her as a place-holder for your own flesh and blood since you saw your family only a couple times a year since they moved away.

And Annie seemed content with that. She had always wanted a daughter. The way she gushed about you then to the Father and introduced you had you trying to brush off the praise with a few failed “Oh no I-“ and “I’m not-“ and so forth. Your flushed cheeks had another agenda entirely however when you finally looked up at the Fathers gaze.

It was those soft brown eyes of his that struck you first. So focused and yet so…sad. Like he might cry at any moment. You wondered if his eyes stung.

He was handsome in a weathered, timid sort of way; couldn’t have been more than mid forties. He looked as if he had seen years of life beyond his age. Perhaps years of absolving sins had taken a toll.

“She is our baker here on Crockett…helps liven up the plain variety of food we have.” She half joked, thought it was mostly truth. Crockett was a place of bread and butter- basics. So a treat of some kind was greatly appreciated, and you were happy to deliver just that.

“Ah yes…the Monsignor mentioned his love for your pastries.” He smiled genuinely and nodded as if recalling being told, “I’ll be sure to stop by.”

There was a boyishness to him that endearing enough to settle your nerves.

Your eyes widened in surprise, “He did?” You asked.

You were certain Pruitt wouldn’t be able to recall something so insignificant in his declining health and old age. It had only been a few years that you had been running the shop, and you knew he hadn’t been fully coherent long before that. A poetic connection between him and Crockett Island you supposed.

Father Paul seemed delighted by your shock though, and the crows feet around his eyes deepened, “Yes he was quite adamant I assure you. I believe you’re also a regular face I will be seeing and that it may just be you and Leeza at times.” He added.

You clasped your hands in front of you to keep from fidgeting.

“I- well I try to be.” You looked away timidly, and shuffled your feet as Annie smiled at you. You weren’t used to someone being so passionate about small things- let alone a man.

“Oh she’s just modest.” The older woman said.

Father Paul chuckled, “Modesty is a virtue. Now, I noticed you weren’t able to drink the sacramental wine, is there something I should know?” He seemed so curious and invested.

You nodded, “I’m afraid I’m allergic to something in wine- ethanol. I’ve always been given plain grape juice instead…the Monsignor was always kind enough to have it ready. I hope that won’t be a problem-“

Father Paul shook his head as he rushed to put your mind at ease.

“-no no not- not in the least I assure you. Your presence and dedication is more than enough…you still receive the lords blessing even if it is from a sweeter drink.” He mused.

“Thank you, Father.” You replied and looked down again so as to hide the warming of your cheeks again.

Annie smiled and hugged you, “Well then, not to cut this short, Father but I’m starting my shift in a half hour. I’ll see you then?” She asked you.

You nodded, “Sure will. I’ll make us some coffee. I’m sure the sheriff could use some too.” You called after her as she walked away and bid the father farewell. Leaving the two of you to stand together. You turned back to Father Hill as he towered over you, and fought to find something to say as your nerves kicked in. You were usually good at finding conversation but you felt like you were a kid being forced to talk to some family member your mom insisted you knew.

You took a deep breath. “It was-“

“I hope-“

You both spoke over each other, and both looked at one another apologetically. You shook your head and smiled a little to ease his embarrassment, “Please you first, Father Hill.”

He looked at you for a moment for confirmation to ensure that he wasn’t being rude then he began again, “I was only going to say that I hope to see you here again…it’s enlightening to see a youthful face in a church.” He grinned- a curl of his dark hair falling over his forehead as he looked down at you.

You returned his grin, though yours was a little forced in comparison.

Attending church was a routine ingrained in you since childhood, and now it was just something expected of you. You knew the day you didn’t attend would make the talk of the town and you were never in the mood for Beverly to come knocking on your door to berate you.

You could still remember a couple years ago when you were sick and she brought you a batch of soup for you to help…the offer had been kind enough, but the soup itself had made you want to curl into a ball and chew on a dead seagull.

“I assure you.” You echoed his words from earlier, and he smiled. “I’ll see you soon. Enjoy the rest of your day, Father.” You said, and slowly stepped past him.

He turned his body to follow you. John told himself it was manners to speak to someone with your whole attention, and while that was true, he simply needed one last proper look at you before you left.

“Likewise, y/n.” He called to you as you walked down the steps. Out of your peripheral, you could see Bev still bending by the ear of one of the community members, and you made quick work of sending her a tight smile then hurrying along the path to the road. She returned the forced expression; not that she knew you forced it. Practice makes perfect.

The hairs on the back of your neck began to stand on end as you descended the hill from St. Patrick’s. There was something in the back of your mind that told you not to look behind you, but against your better judgement, you did just that. A pair of soft brown eyes were trained on you as you walked.

The Father’s stare startled you and made your stride stutter.

He was intense and direct. He wasn’t like most of the islanders, and he made you uneasy somehow, but regardless, you cast him a friendly wave, and continued on your way- but that same prickle on the back of your neck simply wouldn’t let go.

John watched you go until your head disappeared down onto the main road and out of sight. He felt his nerves pick up as he said his last goodbyes and returned inside the church. He sat amongst the pews and stared up at the four walls around him. The weight of the gift he was tasked to reveal was growing heavy. He wished so badly to bestow this marvel to every dedicated church goer, and he would.

To every single one except you.

Why you?

Certainly you were in some way special; that had been revealed to him when it had been your face for him to first see upon returning.

Fate.

But if that were the case then surely your way to salvation should be easier…yet here you were unable to accept it; all because of an allergy.

John sighed as he made up his mind to proceed as he did with the rest of his flock. He hoped you wouldn’t taste the blood in your juice tomorrow- if you did he would simply have to find another way for you to accept it.

No lamb left behind.

The walk into town that usually brought you so much peace now came with an impending sense of foreboding. You knew that nasty storm was nearly at your doors, but storms had never bothered you too much. No, there was something in the air that made you all too aware of your heartbeat, and your breath and how your skin felt. You barely paid attention to anything around you as your leisurely pace unconsciously changed into one of hurry.

It wasn’t until you had just passed by the general store, and didn’t respond to Hassan’s greeting that you snapped out of your trance.

“Y/n? Y/n you alright?” He called to you as you strode right past him.

You nearly jumped out of your skin.

“Sh-sheriff, I’m so sorry…” you stopped in your tracks and furrowed your brow as you fought to find an answer for your odd attitude, “I’m…I think I’m just a little out of it today.” You laughed.

The Sheriff glanced you over for a moment, then nodded slowly. “There’s a fresh pot inside.” He tipped his cup filled with black coffee to you. He was a nice man. Exhausted…mistreated, but caring.

You smiled and nodded, “I’ll come by in a few minutes. Thank you.” You hoped your smile would reassure him. You didn’t need to worry an already stressed father and someone you would consider a friend. An awkward older friend who needed a break but a friend nonetheless. “Want an eclair? Got a few extra that I made this morning.” You asked.

He shook his head gently, “If I didn’t know better I’d say you were trying to give me my own form of insulation for winter.”

You gasped in faux shock, and shook your head, “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

The pebbles and dirt crunched under your boots as you stepped up to the little entrance of your bakery beside the general store. As soon as you stepped inside, you suddenly felt a little safer…at ease. As if you had anything to be afraid of.

You suddenly felt very silly.

Ridiculous.

There had only been one change that day, and that was the charismatic Father Paul Hill.

Had you become so sheltered on that little island that you were afraid of a stranger coming into your community? Surely not.

No. You hadn’t felt fear in the man’s presence so who would you feel it now?

Ridiculous.

Stop it.

You closed your eyes and did your best to clear your mind of any ominous thought and any thought about the new Father.

Out of sight. Out of mind. Not your business.

You strode to the back of the shop and prepared your morning deliveries; it was always the same. It was easy. And you knew it was appreciated. Feeling important was a virtue in a small community that was run into the ground.

Making people feel cared for made you happy.

The day came and went just as it always did, but you couldn’t help but feel like the island had turned a little off its axis. Like something had just nudged it into a slight other direction. Your suspicions were only enforced and justified when almost every one of your regulars mentioned the new pastor to you as they selected their desired sweet or savoury treat from your display case.

“Such a striking young man.”

“Too modern.”

“Nothing like our dear Monsignor…but I can’t say I’ve stayed so engaged during a homily in years.”

“How long do you think he’ll stay?”

“Where do you think he came from?”

And so on.

You had hoped any mention of the man would remain in your own thoughts, but it was as if he had swept through the town like a stiff winter breeze.

By the time you sold your last cheese bun and lemon tart, and closed up shop, there was a very real wind that surged right down Main Street. The cool air pricked right through your thick tights under your skirt and made you made a mental note to dig out some warmer ones.

That storm was due that evening. It had been the talk of the town all day, right after the endless conversations of the invigorating preacher. Once you had gotten home, you felt it start to push up against your boarded windows. The wind howled, and the lights flickered as the sky darkened outside; you took that as a sure sign to light a few candles.

There was something ethereal in the light from a candle. So beautiful. If you caught the flames out of the corner of your eyes, sometimes it looked like they had little halos.

You smiled softly at the thought.

You never stayed up late on storm nights. In fact you slept earlier than usual. You knelt beside your bed and clasped your hands in prayer.

“Father, as I lie down for sleep tonight, wash over me with the warmth of Your love. In Your mercy, soothe my pain, whether in my body-“ you paused your recitation when that familiar prickle began its way up the back of your neck like it had for the past two days. You listened intently, but there was nothing but the wind.

“-mind or soul. Grant me a restful night of sleep so that when I awake, I'm strengthened to do Your will. Amen.” You decided against thinking too much of the unease, and settled under your blankets and closed your eyes.

You didn’t dream that night. In fact it felt as if you had merely shut your eyes for a moment before you were opening them again at the sound of your alarm.

The storm had blown itself out by the time you took your wooden shutters off your windows. There was a sliver of light coming over the horizon as you peered out at the water. You stared at it intently, and clenched your hand into an absentminded fist.

You tried the lightswitch in your kitchen, and praised the lord that it worked. You wondered if Sturge had been up even earlier than you to fix the power lines.

The outside of your house was a mess complete with a crab trap hanging off your fence. Nets, ropes, bushes, clothes, coolers, toys riddled the streets as you walked in the dim light to your shop. But then after only a few minutes, your nose picked up a smell. You were used to the strong smell of the ocean, especially after the storms, but this was different. You started towards the beach, and nearly gagged when you got closer. You had to cover your mouth once you stood on the sand.

From left to right, the beach was littered with the corpses of cats. You knew there were quite a lot on the island, and had seen the odd dead feline, but this was as if something had wiped out every cat and dumped them by the shore.

Anxiety filled you as you stared.

“Oh my-…”

You spun around to see Hassan standing beside you; uniform half buttoned and a bag over his shoulder that you knew had his lunch. The two of you exchanged looks of distress, and you visibly started to shake the longer you looked.

“What…what would…Hassan what-…” you looked up at the man, and he only shook his head. At a loss for words.

“Cmon. I’ll walk you in. Gotta…gotta call the mayor.” He wrapped an arm around your back to direct you away from the mess, “We’ll take care of it.”

You nodded and followed his lead away from the beach and into town, but you found yourself remembering that prickle up the back of your neck that night, and wondered if it had had anything to do with the slaughter. Was there some predator that had somehow made it onto the island without anyone knowing? Was someone going around killing cats? Had the solitude of Crockett Island finally made someone snap and rip every feline to shreds?

The call of your name cut through your thoughts.

You looked up and saw that you were ex standing outside your shop, and the poor man who had walked you there looked even more distressed at your quietness.

“Thank you…thanks Hassan…I’ll…let- let me know if you find anything out.” You said quietly but gave him a small smile of reassurance.

“I will. Take care okay?” He said, and you nodded, but he was already disappearing up the steps into the general store.

You nodded to yourself, and unlocked your shop and stood inside.

Then you took a deep breath.

And got to work.

By the time 8:30 came around, your nerves had calmed, and your nose was filled with a far more pleasant smell of muffins, and tarts and sourdough.

You brushed off your hands, and bundled up the deliveries for that day, then quickly locked the shop up and left for mass. As you walked, you found yourself ever so slightly reluctant. Nervous like your first day of school.

It wasn’t until you heard the sound of Leeza and Annie behind you that you snapped out of a daze that had settled over you.

“Good morning, dear!” Annie called to you as you stopped and waited for them.

“Morning. You all survived the storm just fine?” You asked politely and began walking with them.

“Oh we were fine. Just a breeze.” Annie said good-naturedly, “Sure was strange what with all those cats this morning though hey? Heard Dolly saying they’re still trying to work out what happened.” She said a little hushed.

You nodded, “I know…the Sheriff and I found them this morning…scared me half to death…”

“They’ll figure it out I’m sure.” Annie dismissed the conversation; you could tell she was worried. She always worried.

Not wanting that to be the last conversational subject between your little group, you changed the subject.

“Anything exciting happening at school today?” You asked Leeza.

She shook her head, “Nah…but I think we’re starting on this project that I’m excited about…” the girl began on a tangent regarding her science project. It was nice to listen to someone prattle on about something that would be insignificant in a few years…it was somehow refreshing. Somehow you felt like an older sister to Leeza, and having her confide in you so honestly about mundane things made your heart swell.

The three of you entered the church, and just as always, you sat in your usual spot in the middle, across from Leeza and Annie. And you waited.

“Our processional hymn this morning is number 400 in the red hymnal. “Holy, Holy, Holy.” Please rise. “ came the voice of Father Hill from the door of the church.

A shiver made you twitch, and you blamed a draft in the church. You stood just as you always did; not needing the hymnbook but still holding it out of habit.

You sang, and kept your eyes trained on the text as the Father passed, his hands pressed in prayer as he walked up to the pulpit and continued his routine. You could feel the heavy presence of Bev Keene permeating the air, and you subconsciously ground your teeth. You knew if she had her heart in the right place, she could be a magnetic, beloved member of any community.

But sadly she didn’t have a heart to have it in the right place to begin with. Soot and malice was what sat beneath that gold cross she wore.

“Before he was given up to death, a death he freely accepted, he took bread and gave you thanks…”

Your eyes glazed over at you listened to that voice of his. Not that you weren’t hearing his words, or the message behind them; you were paying attention. But just like being read a story by your mother at bedtime versus a babysitter you had only just met, there was a certain comfort to be found in the former. Yet somehow, where Father Hill ought to have been less comforting, he brought great solace to his homily. It felt as if he was the one you were so used to listening to. Somehow he had eased himself into the Monsignor’s shoes seamlessly and had begun to preach his own gospel that melded with the tone you had become accustomed to since childhood and lulled you into a safe haven of worship.

“…He broke the bread, gave it to his disciples, and said…”

There was an effortlessness in his sermon. You wondered if he had started preaching very young.

With only 4 islanders in the church to worship, Father Hill stepped down from the pulpit and began offering the Body and blood of Christ to each. He saved you for last, you noticed, and for good reason as he retrieved your smaller cup and returned to you. You cupped your hands in front of you, and waited dutifully.

“Body of Christ, y/n.” Came that gentle voice of his like he cared deeply that you accept the blessing.

His long fingers graced the pads of yours so slightly as he placed the wafer on your fingers, and you failed to hide the hitch of your breath as you murmured “Amen.”

Then as he held your small cup for you to drink from, you failed to see how his gaze caught the sight of your pink tongue peaking out just over your teeth as you went to drink. John didn’t know why he noticed that; he supposed he noticed many small details now. Seeing your tongue now must have reminded him of any smaller animal with its mouth open- a small rabbit, a mouse, a cat, a-

A lamb.

The juice tasted strange that morning and somehow thicker than usual. You wondered if it was just in your head after being so shaken from the cats…

Annie took it upon herself to walk Leeza to school that morning, which left you to exit the church alone. On a day like that with the sun shining, you found coming out of the house of God almost ethereal. The light poured in through the single-paned windows and illuminated the dust particles that drifted so gently.

Once you stepped outside, the fresh air filled your lungs and you let yourself smile easily up at Father Paul as he stood patiently.

“Good morning, Father Hill.” You said, craning your neck to look up at the man.

“The beating heart herself!” He smiled, reiterating Annie’s analogy of you.

A good memory.

And a good sense of humour.

The warming of your cheeks was obvious , and John felt a little tug in his chest at the sight of it. Little flower pedals colouring your cheeks.

“She- I’m…”you tried to find a way to humble the dramatic compliment, but failed, “I hope you made it through the storm alright, Father. One hell of a welcome.” You said, trying to redirect the conversation, and to your mercy, Father Hill went along with it.

He nodded.

“It was quite nice actually. Being plunged into darkness almost feels like a renewal of some kind.” He said thoughtfully as his mouth seemed to threaten to tug into a smile.

“Quite sobering.” You agreed, “I’m glad it didn’t chase you off. Don’t know how many times I’ve seen someone buy a summer home here then flee the moment they have to endure a storm.” It was true. A little funny too.

The Father chuckled and nodded, “A fearsome thing to behold, but still a reminder of our creator…the power or lord holds, whipping storms against our rocks and shores just to knock on our doors and say hello. Almost reassuring.” He rambled a little.

You tilted your head, “That’s a very thoughtful way to look at it. Certainly more poetic than what you’ll hear from most of the locals.”

“And what would they say?” He shot back playfully.

You breathed out a laugh.

“One too many curse words for my liking, Father. And a couple confusing analogies.” You said.

Father Hill chuckled and somehow you half expected him to pat your head and tell you to run along. The Monsignor used to when you were a child so it wouldn’t be entirely foreign.

“Well we all have our ways of dealing with hardship-“

“Ah you’re still here, y/n!”

During your conversation you hadn’t noticed how the two of you had come to shift closer to one another; but when that cutting voice of Bev Keen startled you, you took an instinctive step away from the man with whom you had been speaking.

You forced a polite smile, “I am. Just asking how Father Paul made it through the storm-“

“The rectory has always been just fine.” She shot at you with a tight smile as if trying to end your time there quickly.

John could see your lips pull down so slightly into a tiny frown when Bev cut you off; he felt a flicker of irritation. Odd.

You recovered, acting like she didn’t mean any harm. “I’m sure it has. But just because a place is safe doesn’t remove fear. The Father here seemed to have handled it just fine though like you said… “In the storms, winds and waves, He whispers “fearnot” for I am with you.”.” You smiled up at the Father, and he returned it gently.

“Psalm 107:29…truer words could not exist for Crockett Island.” Father Paul said fondly to you; he had a way of speaking to those around him like there was a bubble around the two of you as you conversed. Like nothing else could take his attention from you.

You took in a breath and clasped your hands in front of you when you could feel the gaze of Bev scorching you, “Well thank you for a lovely service today Father, Bev…always a pleasure.” You said to both, but only made it several steps before Father Paul called after you.

“You’re always welcome here.” He said you name so gently. You noticed too that his tone was almost pleading…perhaps encouraging. Did he think you would stop your routine one day?

“I appreciate that Father Hill!” You smiled and waved as you turned to continue on your way; Paul’s lingering stare and Bevs look of distain following you as you went.

Your ear ached as a pull in you almost forced you to turn around and look back at St. Patrick’s again…but you didn’t. Somehow you felt it was in poor taste to do so. You had been startled by being watched once, and you were certain your nerves would not benefit from it again.

Instead, you hurried along, and made it down to the bakery quickly. You waved at a few locals who entered the general store and unlocked your door to grab your deliveries for that day. You always felt a pang of sadness when you looked at your list of houses and saw old customers crossed off; having passed or moved, but you supposed you ought to feel joyous for those who remained.

One by one you completed your deliveries. There were only 15 houses to visit, give or take a few from day to day. You treasured those houses.

You peddled up to one of the houses you frequented, and grabbed the order you needed. You almost bounced up the steps and knocked. It didn’t take long before the door was opening after the voice inside called that they were coming.

You were then met with a familiar face.

“Good to see you. Morning going alright?” Sarah Gunning was always a little direct, but kind. You supposed a good doctor ought to be both.

You nodded as you handed her the two loaves of bread and bundle of fruit cakes. “Not too bad…was a little shaken by the…uh…the cats this morning but nothing a sunny day like today can’t fix!” You assured her. “How’s your mother?”

Sarah nodded, “I heard…smelled it too. She’s alright, thank you y/n.” She took the package from you and gave you a tight smile.

“Good…see you soon.” You chirped, and began backing down the steps.

You turned around and strode out the front yard, but sighed when you noticed one of the straps that kept your goods in place at the back of your bike was loose. You knelt down and retied it. You supposed everything on this island was falling apart just a little.

When you straightened, however, you gasped and nearly toppled over. “F-Father Hill! I’m so sorry-“

The man stepped back a little.

“Im sorry I didn’t mean to sneak up on you.” He put his hand up to show he meant no harm, face apologetic.

“No…no that was on me, I’ve been a little in my head lately.” You said, having a hard time meeting his gaze.

“We all can be a little distracted.” He said. A slightly awkward silence fell between you, but it was he who broke it. “You know the Gunnings well?” He asked, and nodded to the house behind you.

You followed his gaze and nodded, “Not terribly, but I remember seeing Mrs. Gunning in church when I was a kid…I just deliver to them now. Mrs.Gunning’s health hasn’t been the best for years and her daughter Sarah cares for her…I just try to help out where I can.” You smiled.

There was something nagging at you though. Something odd. Of course you hadn’t fully realized that this stranger already knew who lived there; you were so used to everyone knowing everyone.

You did notice how the man before you shifted when you mentioned Sarah’s mother. He seemed almost a little more compelled to listen.

“That- that’s kind of you.” He stumbled a little over his words, “Giving to those in need that’s very selfless…a trait that can be hard to come by though we all possess it.” Father Hill forced a smile that crinkled the sides of his eyes.

“We all have traits in us that we can chose to embrace or not. Good and bad, Father.”

His smile turned a little more genuine then. “Ah yes, the never ending duality of man.”

“ “Everyone who does evil hates the light, and will not come into the light for fear that their deeds will be exposed.” John 3:20.” You quoted a little absentmindedly as you saw Beverly pass by on the main road. The distraction kept you from seeing how the man towering over you had his eyes go wide, and looked away for a moment.

You both stood there for a moment, then you ducked your head a little and pulled your bike towards yourself. “Well Father, I’ll leave you to it.”

Father Hill nodded, and pursed his lips ever so slightly, “Good to see you…”

You slowly walked past him and back to the road, but stopped when he muttered something that you wondered if he meant for you to hear.

“Thank you.” He said.

You looked back at him, brows pitched in confusion.

“For…taking- taking care of everyone.” He ended his sentence a little weakly, and you tilted your head a little to the side. An odd man.

“It’s my pleasure.” You decided on. It seemed to be what Father Hill wanted or needed to hear, and you both parted ways.

You paused at Main Street, and turned to look up at the Father as he ascended the stairs to the Gunning house. This time, it was his turn to glance back at you as you watched him. You waved and smiled, and didn’t wait for his response before you were pedalling away.

John had been standing just out of view of Sarah when he had said goodbye to Leeza, and saw you knock on Mildred’s front door. He stayed there, enjoying how much life you held inside you. Youthful and magnetic. Of course the ease in staring at you had nothing to do with the fact that your dress swayed around your legs and picked up so slightly in the wind.

He watched how startled you were by him when he approached you…so cautious yet so trusting. A lamb weary of wolves just looking for her Shepard.

I will be your Shepard sweet lamb…let me. Bend for me…for God.

Then that quote…oh you were no mere lost soul. No you were thoughtful. John felt excitement fill him at the thought of how you would benefit from his gift. He would be lying if he said you saying his true name didn’t startle him. A coincidence, of course.

Then when he turned back and saw you already watching him. Then that peak of your thigh when you hopped onto your bike…John was…

John was distracted.

An ideal lamb to guide yet so concerning. Not a blind lamb…no you were good. You were caring, and strong. Hopeful…hopeful like a man overboard who knew he had to weather swell after swell of water but kept treading water because he knew he was strong enough despite his muscles wanting to give out.

Instead of staying afloat like that man, John lost his breath.

Then he gasped in the salty sea water and breathed you in. Gulped you down his throat like a greedy boy to nourish his body and fill his lungs.

The next morning was thankfully an uneventful one.

Hassan and Wade had managed to get the dead cats cleaned up by the evening of the day before, and you weren’t sure when the last time was that you were so happy to have nothing happen.

Until that evening.

You were fairly proud of your abilities to make delicious confectioneries for Crockett island, and as you stared down your journal of recipes that sat in your lap, you pondered which to chose for the approaching Crock-potluck. You knew there would be a great deal of food already there, but you also knew that something freshly made for desert changed an atmosphere fast.

You were just looking through your various cookie and sweet bread recipes when a knock on your door made you jump. It was rare that you had visitors, especially at this hour. Certainly Erin had come by numerous times for slow walks around the island in the evening from time to time, and then Annie sometimes ran down to your house if she needed an ingredient…but somehow you felt that the person knocking was neither.

It was soft and timid.

You uncurled yourself from your nest of blankets on the couch, and strode to your door, then opened it with a pleasant smile on your face. It faltered only a little once you saw who was standing there.

“I- I uh…I’m sorry for this intrusion so late but I have a favour to ask of you if I may.” Came that low rumble of the man’s voice as he stood in the dim light of your porch.

You blinked, “What can I do for you Father?”

Father Hill shifted a little- an awkward smile on his face as he looked to the side as he stalled.

“This is my first uh- Crockett Po- crock-“ he stumbled a little and you smiled.

“Crock-potluck.” You corrected him.

He laughed a little, “Yes. And I wanted to have something to bring. Something my mother ingrained in me as a boy and well I was hoping if…if you could lend a helping hand so to speak.”

You bit at your cheek to keep from smiling too wide at his request. Here was this man likely twice your age, taller than most trees, fumbling with his words when he preached for a living. He was endearing.

“Well Father…it is getting late.” You started, and his face instantly turned to that of a kicked puppy.

His eyes softened, and the corners of his mouth tugged down so slightly.

“Oh- of- of course how silly-“

“-and I was going to make something for the potluck anyways…so having an extra pair of hands would be a godsend.” You finished.

John chuckled and stared you in the eye when your nose scrunched up so slightly at your tease.

Funny girl.

“Come in, please…make yourself at home.” You ushered him in. You were thankful that Bev didn’t live near you lest she see her dear Father Hill enter the home of a young woman alone.

Of course, John knew that you were indeed preparing to make something. Just like most islanders, you kept your drapes open even at night, and while he had just meant to take an evening stroll and check in on you- his dear lamb- John had found himself standing just outside your window watching you for well past a half hour. You flicked through that book of yours that John remembered seeing on your counter just two days ago when you had tested a recipe from it. You hadn’t seen him that night either. So domestic and sweet in your own space…

It was only when he snapped out of his trance-like state that he felt a little perverse in his current situation and told himself that he must have a reason for being there so long.

Thus the need to make something for the potluck.

John Pruitt had never made something for the potluck.

But he would not just leave your house that night after watching you through your window.

No. No he had a purpose for being there.

Of course he did. Why else would God have guided him there on his walk?

It wasn’t as if he was subconsciously drawn to your little home.

A moth to a flame.

You watched the older man remove his boots, and unzip his grey hoodie, and remove it to fold it neatly onto your couch. He looked so domestic and human.

“We’re going to make a cult classic, Father…I hope that’s alright. Safer for large numbers.” You explained as you flipped to your browned butter chocolate chip recipe. You slowly walked into your kitchen as you reviewed what you needed, and Father Hill trailed after you.

“This might take a couple hour- oh!” You started to say, but jumped when you turned around and bumped right into his chest.

He chuckled, “I think I might need a bell on me…I’m afraid I have a talent for startling people lately.”

You waved it off, “It’s just me…I’m just- I…” you sighed and looked up at the man as he waited patiently for your explanation, “Can I…can I be completely honest with you, Father Hill?” You asked a little timidly.

He nodded- open and calm, “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

You sucked in a breath, “You’re…well you’re a new presence here on the island…a welcomed one! But because you’re new…you startle a lot of us because we’re simply not…used to you. We’ll get there but in the time being…I think that’s why. I’m- we…we’re glad you’re here.” You stumbled and then when he smiled softly at you you suddenly worried that you had offended him, “I’m…I’m sorry I don’t think that came out right…”

“No no please…it makes perfect sense given how isolated the island is…I take no offence.” He said good-naturedly and waved his hand.

You sighed, and looked down, “Alright well…let’s get started. You might want to roll your sleeves up though it can get messy, Father.” You perked up as you changed the subject, and began to walk to your counter where you had already taken out a mixing bowl and, whisk and measuring cup.

“I am at your disposal, young lady.” Father Paul came to brace himself against the counter edge beside you, looking down at you thoughtfully.

You felt a blush rise to your cheeks, but kept your head down enough for him to not see, “Can you get me the butter from the fridge? Should be on the door.” You asked, and pulled out a small saucepan.

He nodded, and retrieved the butter for you. As he looked for it, you glanced over at him, and found your eyes drawn to his exposed forearms from him rolling up his sleeves. You looked away almost instantly, embarrassed for having been looking at your priest like that.

“You know this is the first time I’ve done this. Gotta admit it’s a bit exciting.” He said as he popped the butter beside you on the counter proudly.

“Baking is always fun…especially when things turn out yummy.” You smiled and put two large cups of butter in the heated pan. It started to sizzle. “We brown the butter to give the cookies a sort of nutty flavour…makes it a little tastier even if they’re just chocolate chip cookies.” You explained. He watched over your shoulder, enrapt.

“Did you always want to do this?” He asked you.

You blinked, “The- the cookies-?”

“No.” He laughed, “No, being a baker.”

“Oh. Well…not exactly. I grew up here and when you grow up in Crockett you have a lot of time to think…sometimes too much. I guess I knew I would end up doing something here and when I got older I got into baking and in my spare time I got really good at it…took years but before I knew it I was graduating and had a pretty fortuitous hobby. It was actually Dr. Gunning who suggested it.”

“Sarah?” Came his voice behind you.

“Yeah, Sarah was in the general store when I was there to get some milk and we got to talking…I had made her mom a few loaves of bread that she used to like and Sarah said I should make something out of my skill. And here I am!” You laughed, and stirred the butter as it browned and thinned.

“Wonderful…” he said softly.

You nodded, “She’s a nice lady. You’ll get used to her- just a little direct. Think it comes with being a doctor.” There was a moment of silence between you; only filled with the bubbling of the butter, “Alright, can you go into the freezer and pull out the flour, and measure out 3 cups of it into the bowl there?” You asked the man behind you.

“I certainly can.” He confirmed.

“Oh! Can you get 4 eggs as well?” You asked quickly.

He hummed and looked through your fridge for what he needed, and placed everything by the bowl. The counter was so much lower for him that he almost had to hunker over with his height to work.

He looked so…normal. It was sweet. A little odd to see your pastor baking with you but it was nice. Somehow it made him feel more human than just a man who absolved your sins and blessed you every morning.

The two of you worked together, and you came to find that Father Hill was eager to learn. He was methodical and took his time to do things right. Listened. Before you knew it there was a massive bowl of cookie dough on the counter and your oven was full of baking sheets.

“Each sheet should only take about 15 minutes so this shouldn’t take more than another hour.” You said, “If- if you need to take off I can finish-“

“A good man does not abandon his task, not to worry.” His tone was stern but he was smiling. You returned it.

“Well…” you breathed as you looked around for something to do, “I can put some music on if you like? You’re welcome to look around.”

He nodded, and you went to find something to listen to, “This used to be my family’s house. I’m afraid I only have their old records…Hope that’s okay?”

“More than.” He called out to you as you went into the living room.

You flipped through a few envelopes, and settled on one from Jeff Buckley. It was mostly slow, and you could still talk if you wanted to. You set it up, and as the needle sat atop the vinyl, a calm song began.

“Who’s this little ray of sunshine?”

You turned and followed Father Paul’s voice. He was standing in front of a few picture frames hung on the wall that you kept from when your family lived there.

“That was me.” You laughed, “That was right before Easter I think…I was 5.” You said thoughtfully.

“You looked happy.” He smiled.

I was. You thought.

“I loved Easter. Mostly for the chocolate…” you both chuckled a little, “But…now it’s just the time of year that I like. Spring. Revival…blossoming of plants, birds chirping…everything just seems so much more alive. The world starts to hum with God’s greatness during Easter, I think.” You thought aloud, then looked up at Father Hill once you ended your musings.

He was already watching you; hanging onto every word.

He remembered how much you enjoyed Easter. “One more chocolate, Monsignor? Pleeease?” He could still hear that little voice.

“What do you think, Father?” You asked him.

“I have to agree.” He hummed. You noticed that his eyes were almost glassy-that same teary look you had noticed when you first met him. Like he may weep.

“I think Monsignor Pruitt was partial t-

DING!

You both jumped apart and looked behind you at the sound of your timer sounding.

Had it been 15 minutes already?

You both returned to the kitchen and you began removing the sheets of golden treats. “If you can put them on the cooling rack while I take them out that’ll help a lot, Father.” You smiled.

“They turned out so nicely.” He mused as he followed your orders, “I supposed I shouldn’t have expected anything less from you.”

You laughed a little, “It’s just trial and error until you figure out your best method.”

Modest girl.

John grinned at you from the corner of his eye while you placed the last hot sheet on the counter.

The two of you continued the routine until the last round was in the oven, and you were starting to feel more at ease with the man. Almost playful. He certainly was a young priest, and every bit a red blooded man; his humour was dry, and he smiled easily. His laugh was infectious, though you could tell he didn’t do it often. You supposed the church wasn’t exactly a place rich with humour.

The record had nearly finished after almost an hour of listening, and the two of you were leaning against the kitchen counter listening. You swayed gently to the music, but then perked up when a favourite of yours began to play.

“I love this song…” you muttered under your breath and turned your head in the direction of the living room.

John looked down at you in recognition of what you had said, but in the low light of your kitchen, and the softness in your face, he couldn’t help but be reminded of being young. Not just himself but the island. Back when the people who were not partners used to be children he had baptized. Back when there were dances in the old town hall that had since burned down decades ago.

You reminded him of…a better time.

An easier time.

You were so occupied in your little bubble, that it took you a moment to notice Father Paul coming in front of you with his hands out.

You looked down at his palms, then up at him, and he waited patiently. You slowly placed your hands in his, and he pulled you away from the counter and began to sway with you. So gentle, then he tentatively brought your hand up to his shoulder and he brought his other hand to your waist; guiding you through a little dance.

Neither of you said a word.

Not there was anything to say really.

Somehow the two of you just felt very…human.

Your neck hurt from looking up at his dark eyes, but you didn’t stop. He watched you just as closely as you moved slowly through the room in small circles.

“…You know I used to be alone before I knew you…and I’ve seen your flag on the marble arch, and love is not some victory march. It’s a cold and it’s a broken Hallelujah…”

The smell of baked cookies surrounded you, and you almost laughed at the absurdity of it all.

But in that moment, it didn’t feel absurd.

It felt like two kindred souls enjoying some shared time. Any obligations or expectations melted away as you felt the warmth from his hands meld into your tendons and heat your sinew. His fingers holding yours felt more akin to a cradle and his breath between you was like smelling your childhood.

Your heart ached.

Perhaps it was that no one had held you in years. Let alone danced with you.

Hugs and pats on the back were about the extent.

“…and it’s not a cry that you hear at night, it’s not someone whose seen the light, it’s a cold and it’s a broken Hallelujah…”

The two of you slowed until you came to a standstill in the kitchen, simply standing less than a foot from eachother. When the timer dinged this time, neither of you jumped away. The sound certainly brought you down to Earth, but somehow you only found yourself staring up at the man. You weren’t altogether confused, though you were curious and a little nervous.

Why had he done that?

Why did you do that?

You had felt so comfortable…like this was an old friend of yours who you had just seen again after years apart.

John gazed down at you…his mind rich with turmoil and deep contemplation. When he had taken your hands in his, it had been as if God had moved through him.

Compelling.

Like God had told him to embrace the good of the past, and remember what he was working towards. To restore exactly that.

After a few breaths, Father Hill released your hand, and you both quietly walked to the oven.

The last batch now sat on the cooling racks, and you sighed.

“I’ll pack these up and bring them by the rectory before service tomorrow, Father.” You broke the silence.

Father hill nodded, “Thank you my girl.” He said softly.

You nodded and looked down at your hands, “Thank you for your company.” Then looked back up at the man before you.

He tilted his head to you as if to tell you that you were welcome or that it was his pleasure.

He slowly unrolled his sleeves, and you picked his sweater up for him from the living room.

You almost felt bad to watch him go. It might have been nice to talk to him for a few hours more.

He finished tying his boots and graciously took the sweater from you, and slipped it on over his collared shirt.

“Goodnight, y/n.” He murmured as he opened your door.

“Goodnight, Father.” You whispered back.

He stayed a moment longer, and smiled gently at you, then he was gone.

You stood in your doorway, watching him go, and as he left your sight, you found yourself returning to your senses. A wave of embarrassment chilled you when you realised what you had just done. Yet somehow you didn’t feel entirely guilty. It had felt as if some kind of blanket had enveloped the two of you just like when he conversed with his flock after mass- a bubble around you.

You packed the treats away after cooling, and silently went to sleep. You didn’t let yourself dwell.

“It’s great to see so many of you here today. But I do have to ask, why not every Sunday? Christmas, Easter, I get that. But there’s also always an uptick around the start of Lent. Why is that? What’s so special about today? Ash Wednesday, beginning of Lent. It’s hardly a crowd-pleaser.The beginning of repentance, making amends for our sins. Sin. This darkness, this blackness that spilled into us. That darkness, we wear it on our forehead today. Just a smudge of it. Uh…A smudge of death, of ash, of sin for repentance. Because of where this is all actually heading, which is Easter. Rebirth, resurrection, eternal life. Life that rises again…” Father Paul stood before you at the pulpit, presence commanding as ever.

“Even out of blackness, love rises again. Even out of sin. And this island, it will rise again. Even out of disaster, rebirth, restoration, eternal life. Jesus sees you. Sees you, best of all, and he sees you true. Because, don’t forget, who did he seek out? Who did he turn to, to build his church?His apostles. Jesus’ first disciples, they were fishermen. One of his first miracles, right? The nets are empty, fishermen desperate. Jesus says, “Put out into deep water and let down your nets for a catch,” and when they pulled up those nets, a bounty of fish.” You could practically feel the worshipers buzz around you as their heart rates picked up, just like yours.

“He sees you. Oh, yes, he sees you, brothers and sisters, and he will resurrect this island, and he will again fill your nets. It’s great you’re here today, but please keep coming back. Those doors, they’re always open, as the gates are always open. You just bring yourself. God will do the rest. As Psalm 60 tells us, “God, You have rejected us, You have broken us down, You have been angry. Restore us again.” Do you know what psalms are? They’re songs.The word psalm from the Greek psalmoi. It means “music.” Songs of prayer. Songs of praise. That’s who we are. That’s who we must be. That’s what it means to have faith, that in the darkness, in the worst of it, in the absence of light and hope, we sing. “Restore us,” we sing to the sky. And He will, my friends. He will. That same hand that dealt you your hardship, that same hand will make you whole.”

A single tear fell from your eye. God works in mysterious ways, and you could almost feel God working through Father Hill that day. As if God truly was trying to tell you that he was there with you. And Father Hill spoke as if he knew something good was to come- as if God had shown him.

And you believed him.

As you stood, you could hear Annie trying to urge her son to accept the cross of ash, and you gave her a small reassuring smile when she filed in behind you.

“Y/n remember you are dust, and to dust you shall return.” The preacher murmured to you. Your face was bright that day, happy. John suppressed a smile.

“Amen.” You said quietly, flicking your eyes up to his. He stared down at you steadily, calm as ever.

“Bless you my child.” His was was low and serene.

It was a peaceful stroll down to potluck. You watched as birds started to flit in the trees and chirp; bees starting to buzz, the gentle sound of the shore. Rebirth.

You checked behind you every so often as you walked in case you saw Father Hill; you had brought the cookies to the rectory that morning before service, and when you had offered to help carry the three large containers after, the Father had declined.

You had insisted.

But he insisted harder.

It was wonderful to see the islanders enjoy the little festival. Sharing with each other and laughing. It didn’t happen often. It was as if everyone pushed off their exhaustion just to enjoy that day. Problems could wait until the next day.

You made your way through the locals that you knew well, and stopped a little longer with some. Annie stood with Ed, and you noticed them smiling; perhaps it might seem like a strange thing to notice, but you knew all about Ed’s troubled back, and how their marriage was a little exhausted…it made your heart glow a little to see them happy. Most everyone seemed happier if you were honest, and it wasn’t just that day.

Your legs began to ache after a half hour, and you took to the edge of the festival to sit. You liked this. Watching everyone around you.

“Mind if I join you?” You looked up to see Father Hill walking over to you, a cup of juice in hand.

“Please do.” You scooted over to give him a little more room.

He sat with a soft grunt.

“You did your hair different.”

You turned to him. And your lips parted in surprise, “Wha-“

“I’m sorry- I noticed during communion. Just came to mind.” He said a little awkwardly though no less sweet.

Your mouth fell open a little, “I did. First day of lent…I like to do a little extra for it.” You rambled.

John smiled at you.

You looked pretty.

Not that he could say that.

But you did.

“The crockpot luck…I hear it’s a yearly staple for the island.” Father Hill said to you as you both looked out over the festival.

You nodded, “Sure is…”

John turned to you then; your tone was a little more reserved. Like you weren’t saying all you wished to.

“You’re not a fan of it?” He asked curiously.

You thought for a moment. “Can I be-“

“Honest?” He cut you off. Echoing your words from the night before.

You smiled, “Yes.”

“Please do.”

“I-… Lent is supposed to be a time of fasting and repentance and prayer…I just…it seems strange to have a festival on Ash Wednesday.” You said quietly.

He nodded, “Perhaps a little unorthodox.”

“I think I’ve always found it just…a little odd. Our Monsignor was the one who came up with it, you know? Coined the name. I just…I can’t help but wonder if his theology was a little…uh…off.” You mused, looking down at your hands.

Father Hill regarded you for a moment, and nodded, but didn’t say anything.

“I know you didn’t know him…he was a nice man…but…he was- is just a man. Man has his faults.” You shrugged, then turned to the man beside you, “No offence, Father.”

He chuckled and sipped at his cup, “None taken. I appreciate your candour.”

You pursed your lips.

You weren’t usually so unguarded.

You shouldn’t have said that.

Why did you say that?

This was the second time you had inadvertently said something to insult him within 24 hours. You felt shame start to rise in the back of your throat.

“I don’t want you to worry about offending me, y/n. I’m a friend and an ear to listen…if ever you want to talk.” He said, staring out at the sea of people, then back at you.

You sighed and nodded, “Thank you, Father. You’re very kind.”

He smiled.

Then you remembered something, “Father?”

“Hm?”

You shifted a little awkwardly, “I want to first thank you for maintaining my uh…specialized sacrament, but I just wanted to ask- have you changed the juice?” You asked him.

He thought for a moment, “I don’t believe so. We just got a new shipment…I can check if it’s any different…why?”

“It…it’s just…it tastes very strange. Almost metallic. I don’t know how else to describe it.” You thought back to how the taste stayed in your mouth after only a sip.

John shifted in his seat. You knew. He would have to find another way of give you the gift.

“I’ll find another one to give you. Not to worry.” He said, and patted your hand.

“Thank you, Father.” You chose not to dwell on him touching you.

“Well, I should return to my flock…trying to get to know everyone.” He said, then pushed himself up off the bench.

You nodded. You knew he was only temporary, but it was kind of him to try and get to know the members of the community while he was there.

He was charming and approachable, it wouldn’t be hard for him.

“Of course, enjoy!” You called after him. He waved back at you, and you scrunched your face up as the sun hit your eyes.

You sighed to yourself and after an hour, you began to make another round of the park. The town had truly lucked out with such a beautiful day for such a special day. After such a nasty storm just a few days ago, it was surprising.

You watched at the sun started to lower in the sky. Things were starting to wind down, and some had began to return home-

“Pike!”

You whipped your head around in the direction of the scream. On the other end of the park, you could see a crowd forming. You knew Pike was Joe Collie’s dog, and by the sounds of it, there was nothing good happening. You knew he was old, and loud, but he wouldn’t hurt a fly. You hoped he hadn’t bitten someone.

You crossed the field in just a couple minutes, and when you came to stand in the crowd, you felt yourself grow lightheaded. Pike was laying in a puddle of foamy bile and blood- the light leaving his eyes. You could hear Joe accusing Bev, and saw Sarah knelt over the dog…it was horrible.

“Alright everyone…back up.” Hassan waved his arms to try and disperse the crowd. Everyone began to walk away, and you could feel a solemnness come over the islanders. Like somehow they had all been snapped out of a trance and remembered their troubles.

You pursed your lips, but ultimately backed up as well. You wanted to help, but you knew there was virtually nothing to do. Pike was dead.

You kept to yourself for another hour, the as the afternoon dragged on, you started to collect the now-empty containers that had once held the cookies.

“Thanks for that, y/n.”

You looked over at Wade who was taking one last helping of…something brownish. A casserole of some kind.

You smiled, “Oh it was no problem. It was actually a group effort between the Father and I!”

His brows shot up, “Really?”

“Yeah he wanted to bring something. Wasn’t that nice of him?” You picked the empty containers up.

“Yeah…he- he seems like a real nice fella.” He mused, moustache twitching.

You nodded, “This was great, Mr. Mayor. See you Friday?”

He chuckled- you knew he was just fine with Wade, but you also knew he liked when people used his title- made him feel important. And you did your best to remind each person of their importance when you could.

“See you Friday, sweetheart.” He conceded.

You waved him off, then began your way back home.

John stood on the edge of the park watching you go. He had initially taken the spot to gaze at Sarah, but his gaze had been drawn when you were speaking with the mayor.

They really did love you.

And he understood why.

He watched you disappear down the road, dress fluttering in the wind.

•••••••••••••••••••

@littleredwritingcat @zaunite-leo @f4er1e-g1rl @purplemotif @vampyre-kin @professional-sinner @hamishlinklaters @spacechupss @pansexualpamandabear @ebiemidnightlibrarian

#father john pruitt #father paul hill x reader #father paul hill #midnight mass fanfiction #midnight mass #hamish linklater #flanaverse #happy Good Friday ya nasties #father John Pruitt x reader #father Paul hill fan fiction

369 notes · View notes

normanplusdaryl · 2 years ago

Text

You, you, you.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Era: Season 10

Word count: 1.2k

Plot: After a long night, Daryl comes home and you decide he needs a little break.

Warnings: It's not smut but its implied? It's nothing explicit ig.

A/N: This is my second fic and I can not believe I'm actually doing this lmao, this is one of my favorite scenes on the show and I've always thought Daryl deserved someone who take care of him after a rough night. Thanks to my friend @weretheones for all the amazing help, I seriously couldnt have done it without u, muah!

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

The dawn was beginning to come out when the gates of Alexandria came to Daryl’s sight, it had been a long night for him, where everything that could go wrong actually did.

The walk home was silent between the archer and his best friend, the only sound intercepting the thick tension were the grunts of the hooded whisperer trying to set himself free. This would end up really bad, he could feel it in his gut.

Daryl’s mind was spinning around what happened, trying to understand Carol’s actions. He knew she wasn't the same after what Alpha did, but after all these months he could only hope her grief was at least healing — he was clearly wrong. There was something he couldn't identify in her eyes, more than anger or revenge, something that scared him.

Gabriel saw them coming inside and hurried once he spotted their hostage.

“You put us all at risk!” he barked at Carol.

“We need to find that horde before it shows up in our gates” Carol replied.

“So you decided for all of us? Knowing what it could mean?” Gabriel angrily answered back.

“Don’t matter anymore, we still gotta fin’ them” Daryl's voice came from behind the livid father — “We will figure it out'” he stated, ending the discussion as he started to walk home, to his home. To you.

He opened the door slowly trying to be quiet, you were probably still asleep and he would be damned if he perturbed your very needed rest. Daryl placed his crossbow down on the table you reserved for it. “Come on baby!” you pouted, “This way you can always know where you left it and it’s easy for you to grab it on a run! It’s a win - win, don't you think?” Your eyes were so wide with excitement he couldn't say anything else but to peck your lips while nodding “Alrigh’” he simply answered.

The memory made him smile, then, it hit him. That was the reason why Carol’s intentions to stir things up scared the hell out of him: he was finally happy. After so many years of walking on eggshells just surviving, being with you gave his life meaning, and the idea of you being in danger for her impulsive actions unsettled him, he couldn’t lose you. Daryl sighed as he began to take his vest off, a fresh pair of clothes should be enough to remove the smell and fatigue from the night before.

“Hey, you’re back” your voice broke his thoughts. Daryl turned to you and his heart jumped. You were together for more than 6 months now and he still couldn't believe he was lucky enough to behold you like this.

“Msorry, didn't mean to wake ya, go back to sleep angel” he softly said.

You frowned, something was wrong. “What happened? Is everything ok?” you replied with a sweet tone in your voice.

He bit his bottom lip, staring at the window. “It’s Carol, she took one of em’ here, I, huh, helped her '' he wasn't certain why, but he felt ashamed as he spoke —“We will try to make him talk”.

Your mouth formed an “O” picking up on what troubled the archer. Alpha could take retaliation if she knew what happened. Shit.

“Come on baby” you softly said, raising your hand so he could take it. “We need to get you clean first”.

You led him to the bathroom. Unsure of what was happening he followed every step you made with the feeling of thousands butterflies in his stomach. The way his old shirt embraced every one of your curves barely covering your bottom made his heart race. He never thought getting a shower could be this exciting. Sitting on the sink, Daryl watched you unbutton his shirt very slowly, pecking at the skin revealed with every button that was undone. Soon, his broad chest was displayed and you smirked with satisfaction. Bringing your hands to his neck, you brushed his lips just a little and whispered “Let me take care of you, please”.

Daryl trembled, he didn't feel tired anymore.

Once you were satisfied with the temperature of the water, you took your robe off getting into the shower. Daryl couldn't help but stare as he got rid of his boxers, the sight of your naked body wasn't something he would ever get used to.

The hot water splashed against his ached body, making him gasp with delight. You chuckled at the action “I thought you didn't like showers, huh?” you teased him. “I like them with ya” Daryl sheepishly answered.

Your eyes traced his whole body searching for injuries that might need more than just some cleaning, to your relief, there wasn't anything new. Taking a sponge, you delicately started to wash his chest, paying extra attention to every one of his scars, caressing them gently, wishing they could disappear along with his pain, just like the soap with the water. Daryl’s eyes were glued to the action, feeling a warm sensation spreading over his broad frame, god, he loved you.

“I know you’re worried” he looked into your eyes, listening to your words closely, “But I need you to understand, whatever happens, I’m here for you, we can always fight together” You placed his hand on your left breast, “Do you feel it? My heart beating?” Daryl nodded, lost in the sensation of your soft skin against his rough hand.

You kissed him deeply, wanting to make him forget about the troubles of the world he always felt the need to carry on his shoulders. “I love you Daryl” you whispered between kisses. Daryl felt like crying, he wasn't used to this kind of burning, unconditional love. “I love ya too” Daryl managed to answer, unable to concentrate in anything else but the feeling of your lips on his, you were the only thing in his mind. Every fiber of his body was consumed in you. You, You, You.

Soon, the steam from the hot water wasn't the reason the bathroom was boiling, it was the way you both got lost into each other until you became one.

Daryl came out of the house with his hair dripping, Gabriel approached him as soon as he spotted him.

“Did you take a shower?!” he said with a hint of surprise in his voice “I thought we were going to check on that whisperer guy?”

Daryl remained stoic to the father's questions but he felt himself blushing, just when he was about to brush him off Aaron caught up with them.

“Hey! We were looking for you!” he exclaimed, pointing at Daryl — “You showered?!” Aaron’s eyes widened with disbelief and Daryl left a frustrated grunt.

“Can't take a damn shower or what?” Daryl growled as he walked away from the two men with a hidden grin on his face.

2K notes · View notes

icallhimjoey · 2 years ago

Note

Hi beautiful, I was wondering if you could write a little something about spending some quality time with Joe while straddling him and playing with his little happy trail

i couldnt not write this, beautiful request. thank you <3 Wordcount: 1.9K

---

What Are You Wearing

Ugh was the best way to describe it.

Ugh.

You couldn’t count on your fingers how many things had pissed you off that day. No more coffee in the house as you’d woken up. Joe had left the toothpaste out, all squeezed in the middle, cap nowhere to be found. Your favourite black jeans had a fat orange bleach stain near the bottom from cleaning the bathroom last night.

“Use bleach, I love the smell of bleach,” Joe had said when you'd made a deal; he’d take care of the kitchen, you’d do the bathroom. He’d handed you a bottle. You hadn’t even thought of what it could do if you weren’t careful, and now it was all ruined.

There was no more windscreen wiper fluid in the car, so you had to drive and peer through thick white dirty streaks which was dangerous and annoying, because you remembered thinking “Oh, I’ll get some next time,” about three weeks ago, and then had forgotten about it completely.

Everything was ugh.

All day all you could think of was going home and crawling back into bed after a scorching hot shower you’d sit on the floor for, because they were clean now, because of the fucking bleach.

Five minutes before you got to go home, you received an e-mail about some outstanding bill you’d forgotten about, and they’d added administration costs now and it was all so stupid. You were going to have to pay more money because you’d done something so human. People forgot things all the time. Just remind them! Don’t make them pay for it.

It was Joe’s turn to take care of dinner that night.

He had said he was going to get you something good. Get some coffee too, you had added grumpily.

You’d have dinner. You’d shower. You’d go hide underneath the covers and wait for a better day. When there’d be coffee. Those were the plans.

But then, when you walked in, late, because of course you’d run late, the flat didn’t smell of food at all.

You walked in, annoyed, a little dazed, tired, and with expectations that weren’t met which only pushed you closer to tears you’d get so angry over crying. It always felt so stupid to cry over silly little things. But they had stacked up and made one big, huge thing, and it was starting to become silly in a different way. An all-consuming, I’m-going-to-eat-you and you-won’t-get-out-alive silly kind of way.

“Hey!” Joe said from the sofa, all cheery, like today wasn’t the worst day ever.

Ugh.

You walked in, stopped right in the middle of your living room, and closed your eyes. Took a deep breath. Get yourself together, bitch. Joe didn’t deserve you taking it all out on him.

“Oh no,” you heard Joe, moving, sitting up. “What’s wrong?”

“Everything’s all fucked up today, and I just. Give me a second to acclimate.” you said, trying more deep breaths, eyes closed still. In through your nose, out through your mouth. Your stomach rumbled. The flat didn’t smell of food. It was well past dinner time. Joe probably had good reasons. He always had good reasons.

You clenched your fists as hard as you could. Then relaxed. Did it once more, just to be sure.

Then you opened your eyes, blinked them into focus, and looked at Joe.

“Joe,” you groaned, instantly right back in the awful mood you’d just tried so very hard to push away. “What the fuck are you wearing?”

Joe looked slightly panicked, tipped his head down to give his own outfit a once over before they looked back at you again.

“I thought this was fine?”

“Joey,”

“What? You said you liked this!” Joe plucked at his shirt. You did like his shirt. But not matched with the trousers, and God, why did he put the cardigan over top? And the socks? Cute, colourful. But, no, baby. No.

“You went outside in that?” you sounded so defeated, like it was the worst thing in the world. It wasn’t, it very wasn’t. Joe could flutter those eyelashes over his big brown eyes, and no one would even really notice what he was wearing. You knew. You’d been there, once. But today everything was wrong.

And there was no food.

And Joe looked like a toddler who’d gotten to dress himself for the first time.

“No, I locked myself up inside all day, like a hermit,”

Sarcasm. The language of bullies and mean-spirited assholes. Exactly the opposite of what you needed. And Joe saw then that you weren’t in the mood for playful bickering. It would all feel too real too quickly, and you clearly needed soft, tender care. Light-hearted jokes were fine, but only at his own expense. Not yours.

Then Joe scrambled. Quick hands to undo buttons, fast.

Cardigan came off first. He threw it across the room, made the place look untidy instantly.

“Better?” he asked, but his hands, fingers didn’t stop. His button down was next.

“Here, gone.” Joe pushed one arm out, then shook the other until it came off completely, leaving him topless.

Joe never wore undershirts. He should really start wearing undershirts, you thought. A simple white crewneck would actually be the perfect addition to what he still had on now.

But then Joe leant back, brought hands to the button of his trousers, and it was so stupid, but Joe trying to make you feel better by taking off a bad outfit was actually what brought you closer to tears than all the other shit that you’d had to deal with throughout the day.

“Stop,” you tried, but a smile found your face and Joe saw that what he was doing was working.

Joe undid his trousers, stood up and stepped in place, high knees, until he was out of them. Then thumbs found the waistband of his underwear, and you let your eyes grow big.

“Stop,”

Joe raised an eyebrow, cocked his head, and you stepped closer quickly, reaching for his arms, yanking them away and you weren’t sure how Joe did this. How Joe could find the negative within you and then do the exact thing you needed for all of it to disappear. How did Joe know how to do this? It was like magic, and it worked every single time.

He only fought you for a second, pretending his was absolutely going to pull his boxers down whilst you tried to wrestle his arms away from him, until he pulled you into a hug.

A tight one.

One that squeezed all the left over negative out.

Joe was stood in his socks and underwear, and you were still in your coat, and you hugged. You hugged, squeezed, and nuzzled your cold nose into the crook of his neck. Joe held you, until you sighed deeply and said, “I’m hungry.” It made Joe laugh, not letting go. “Food should be here in 15 minutes,” Joe pulled his face back, kissed you on the temple. It made you scrunch up your eyebrows, like it hurt, and Joe did it again, kept kissing you in the same spot, checking in between, until your face relaxed.

“Talk to me,” he then said, but before you could, he let himself fall back and took you with him. It was only uncomfortable for a second, until your knees found the sofa next to his thighs, and Joe’s grip on you loosened enough for you to sit up, straddling him now.

“Tell me what’s all fucked up today,” Joe took your head in his hands, and you found his wrists to hold onto as he brought you close, pressing kisses everywhere but your mouth.

You talked about the coffee. The toothpaste. The orange bleach stain. The windscreen wiper fluid. The bills. The forgetting, God, you felt so stupid for always forgetting everything all the time.

Joe listened, and was there, and you thought, maybe the food could wait. Maybe that scorching hot shower could wait. Because you were sat on top of your boyfriend, who helped you out of your coat, and he was practically naked, and he hadn’t trimmed his beard in a while, and he listened. Joe just looked at you, big brown eyes, and listened.

Half the things you complained about were things Joe was the direct cause of, but he didn’t interrupt. Just let you speak. Took it all in.

As you spoke, your hands wandered. Beard. Perfect, unruly. Longer than he’d ever had it before. You absentmindedly let your hands run through it from underneath out, and Joe lifted his head a little, gave you better access as you watched your fingertips get lost and reappear again.

Down. Chest hair. There wasn’t a lot, but just enough to scrape nails through. Up and down. Swirling, a little. Soft skin, milky white, freckles barely visible if you didn’t look hard enough.

Down further. Happy trail below his navel. Joe’s stomach muscles tensed slightly as you ran a finger down, back up, back down again. You used your index finger and your middle finger to hold it in between, like hairdressers would hold hair to cut. You noted how the hair got coarser the further down you went, and you let your finger trips trail until they lingered and you realised when you heard Joe chuckle softly that you’d stopped talking. It was just caressing fingers now, your attention fully with what you were touching. It didn’t leave enough brain space to also get all the bad things out; it was all just Joe’s body hair now.

“I can still take them off, if you’ll allow me,” Joe said, and you looked up to see a wicked grin you couldn’t help but copy. Joe’s hands were still holding your head, and you felt him pull at you slightly, prompting you to move in for a kiss.

Joe was soft. Caring. Kind. You were kissing, just to kiss. Just to be close, in this moment. Lips brushing and pressing, noses touching, all love. It was all warmth, and sweetness, and when Joe’s hands left your face to wrap his arms around your neck to pull you even closer - could you get even closer? - you full body relaxed into him, into his kisses, and that’s when you knew, it was all good.

Today was actually fine.

It was all easy fixes, and Joe knew just how.

He’d buy coffee. He’d get you new black jeans and would never suggest using bleach again. He’d fill up the windscreen wiper fluid. Find the lid to the toothpaste. Remind you of important things that didn’t need forgetting. Get out of his clothes that he didn’t know how to match together properly.

Joe’d do it all for you.

Kissing Joe, being kissed by Joe like this was really the easiest way to patch it all up. Slow hands, soft touches, closed eyes and little throat noises. It fixed everything.

Besides maybe, your rumbling stomach. Fuck, you were hungry.

But then the doorbell rang, thank God, and the food was here, and you loved Joe, you really did, but food was here, and today was actually great.

“Never wear that stupid shit together again,” you whispered into his mouth before you got up to answer the door, and Joe laughed. Heartily laughed, and he promised nothing.

Because if wearing bad outfits got you smiling the way you did when he got out of them, he’d wear bad outfits every day for the rest of his life.

---

The Taglisted:

@ghostinthebackofyourhead @dirtyeddietini @kiwisa @jasminearondottir @josephquinned @cancankiki @sidthedollface2 @dylanmunson @munsonsgirl71 @alana4610 @emmamooney @xomunson @sadbitchfangirl @thatonefan-girl @paola-carter @eddiemunsonfuxks @figmentofquinn @haylaansmi @thewondernanazombie @munsonmunster @kellysimagines @mybffjoe @harrys-tittie @chaoticgood-munson @jenisnotlost @sherrylyn628 @bdpst-massacre @xeddiesbattattsx @05secondsofsexgods @lovelyblueness @adoreyouusugar @nadixq @prozacandnicotine @munsonswhore86 @alwayslindie @thefemininemystiquee @hauntingbastille @eddie-joe-munson @ali-in-w0nderland @pepperstories @phyllosilicate-s @thebellenouvelle @luvrsbian @joesquinns @choke-me-joey @alizztor @thelostmoonofpooosh @did-it-work @capricornrisingsstuff - (tag list currently full)

#joe quinn #joseph quinn #joe quinn x reader #joseph quinn x reader #joe quinn x you #joseph quinn x you #joe quinn fanfic #joseph quinn fanfic #fluff #request #what are you wearing

644 notes · View notes

angel-eyes05 · 1 year ago

Text

bite the hand (chapter 6)

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

pairing: spider-woman!oc x miguel o’hara

summary: lorena's whole world was taken away from her in the blink of an eye, after she accidentally broke a canon event. lucky for her though, she was able to find a portal watch in her dimension and used it to get out before she glitched out of existence. unfortunately though, running from dimension to dimension, she's been named as an anomaly by the spider society. now, she's constantly on the run from them, their leader in particular. when she eventually gets caught though, she's recruited onto a mission to catch another anomaly who might be from her past. to her dismay though, her partner on this mission is her very captor. will she be able to stop arguing with him for long enough to get the job done?

info: enemies to lovers, maybe a slow burn depending on chapter count, oc is 24 and miguel is 27, both oc and miguel are super sad lmao, they're also both super violent so, they also hate each other what a slay, in regards to my oc you can read her character sheet right here

warnings: there might be spoilers for atsv in this so watch the movie before reading this, cursing, implication of suicidal thoughts, blood mention, ANGST SO MUCH ANGST

word count: 2.4k

notes: thank you olivia rodrigo for dropping vampire in the middle of me writing this because that was such good backing music for the argument🤭 (i love angst if you couldnt tell)

-----------------

As the soft, delicate rain turned into a heavier pour, Lorena started to wish she went inside the motel lobby with Miguel, instead of waiting outside.

Miguel had gone in about five minutes ago and still hadn’t come out. Now having moved underneath the awning, she was enjoying watching the rain, and different civilians running through it on the street. Her momentary peace was interrupted when Miguel came slamming through the door, wiping his hands across his face and groaning. “I didn’t know booking a hotel room could be so stressful,” Lorena joked. “You’re gonna hate me,” he said, sounding genuinely sorry. Lorena sighed.

She had seen this trope play out in movies all the time. “You got the keys?” she asked, avoiding his statement. He held up the keys in one hand and jingled them sarcastically. “Ok, lets just get going before we get even more drenched,” she said, guiding her hand to the stairs so Miguel can lead the way up to the room.

Lorena headed up the stairs slowly, still in a good amount of pain from her earlier wounds. Once she and Miguel made it to the door, and he unlocked it, she was met with the very thing she was dreading this whole time.

One king sized bed, smack in the middle of the room. Not even a couch for one of them to lay on.

Lorena sighed before walking in. “I’ll take the bathtub,” she said exhaustedly before walking in. “You sure you don’t want me to take it?” he asked kindly. “You really think you’ll be able to fit in that?” she asked rhetorically, looking back at him and pointing up and down at his massive body. He shrugged it off. “Ok, but I need to shower first, so at least take the bed for now,” he insisted.

The room was a decent size. A king sized bed in the middle, with a desk by the far away window. A dresser was perched in front of the bed with a medium sized TV straight above it. The bathroom on the other hand, was much more of a mess, conveniently. The tub was an ugly teal color with cracked linoleum tile floors. An orange-brown rust shrouded all the metal material, and the yellow overhead light was headache inducing. Perfect environment for sleeping.

While Miguel was in the shower, Lorena sat on top of the tacky looking quilt while she flipped through free movies on the cable. It wasn’t like she was actually going to pay attention to any of them, but having one on in the background would at least make time seem like it was moving a little bit faster. She eventually just landed on Coco, a cute little movie to just have on, and left it playing in the background as she let her thoughts wander off.

It just clicked to her now that this was the first time that day she had a moment to rest. Whether it was running around New York City, almost falling to her death, or patching herself up, her adrenaline had been at an all time high for the whole day. As a result, it felt weird to just be sitting and doing nothing, even if it was relaxing. Especially while she knew he was out there.

Her Spider-Sense was going crazy, even though she wasn’t in any immediate danger. It was just the fact that she was going to have to see him again that wanted to make her pull her hair out. It had been so long, she was even beginning to forget what he sounded like. She promised herself she never would. Yet here she was. Searching deep through her memories to try and remember his diction.

The way he would hang on his vowels a little, and extend the last syllable of the word, like he wanted to keep it in his mouth a little longer. He always had a relaxed tone to his voice, combating her quick, harsh one. He matched her so well, she could never imagine herself with anyone else. Or at least she used to think that. That’s why Miguel scared her so much.

Almost as if on cue, the door to the bathroom opened, steam clouding its way into the main room, and Miguel standing in the doorframe with a towel tightly wrapped around his small waist. Lorena had to keep herself from admiring his chiseled body. Although, when she was able to move her eyes away from his six-pack, she only felt more butterflies in her stomach from the sight of his wet, sloppy hair. It was so different from his put together, almost uptight appearance.

In a desperate attempt to get away from her own lustful thoughts, she blurted out, “Lo juro por dios, if you used up all the hot water O’Hara.” “Don’t worry, don’t worry, there should be enough left for at least a quick rinse,” he defended, taking another smaller towel from the closet in the small hallway and ruffling it across his hair.

She got up quickly and made her way to the bathroom, before she heard Miguel say, “Do we really have to watch this movie.” She paused. “What’s wrong with Coco?” she said jokingly, and almost like she was offended. “I just don’t wanna watch it,” he responded flatly. “I didn’t know you were too grumpy to enjoy a kids movie.” “Can you just cut it out.” Lorena was getting energized off of the banter though, deciding to continue it by running to snatch the remote just before he could. “Lorena, give me the remote.”

Took a moment. So did he, realizing what he just did. She pointed her finger up at him in a mocking manner. “Ha! You did it! You said my name!” “I don’t have the energy for this, anomaly.” “Nuh uh, no take backs” she teased like a child, jumping around the room while he tried to grab the remote while still holding up his towel.

“Would you just give it to me?” he almost shouted, trying to block out the sounds of the TV while the lullaby rendition of “Remember Me” started playing in the back. “Oh come on, why can’t you just have a bit of fun for a little, Mr. Grumpy-Pants,” Lorena continued. “Just give me the fucking remote already!” Miguel was now full on shouting at her. “Just tell me what’s wrong with the fucking movie then!” she shouted back, getting a little more annoyed at his actions. “Because this was my daughter’s favorite movie!”

Lorena froze, embarrassment showing bright on her cheeks. Miguel sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose while the song finished. Lorena quickly shut off the TV as silence filled the room. “I…I didn’t know,” she tried to apologize. “It’s fine, just forget it,” he said, taking the remote and placing it on the desk next to him. “Can I ask what happened,” Lorena said meekly. All the attitude and cockiness she previously flaunted was broken down now. Miguel sighed, took a seat on the bed, and patted next to him. Lorena took her place on top of the bed as well.

“It was a while ago. That I had her. Gabriella.” Lorena tried not to look at him, as if it would alleviate any embarrassment he might’ve been feeling. “It was a different universe. Other than my own. I wasn’t supposed to be there…but I had to. I was…” he took a deep breath. “I was so tired of being alone.” Lorena knew how that felt.

Shortly after Eddie’s death, she had gone down a dark path herself. If she didn’t have her aunt there with her, she might not have been sitting there on that bed right now.

“It was so wonderful. She was wonderful. She was such a bright girl. Had a little spark to her. You would’ve liked her,” he pushed at her shoulder with his, getting Lorena to blush a little. “...What happened,” she hesitantly asked. Miguel took a bit to answer. “Like I said. I wasn’t supposed to be there.”

“Oh.”

“It happened the same way yours did. She glitched away in my arms.”

Lorena’s attitude quickly changed when she heard the first part of that statement. “What do you mean ‘it happened the same way yours did’?” she asked, a tang of anger and confusion in her voice. Miguel knew he made a mistake the minute the words left his mouth. But he had gone too far to go back now. “I’m the reason the canon collapsed and destroyed Gabi’s Earth.”

Lorena stood up slowly from the bed, and turned away from him as she felt her face and eyes get hotter. “So…we made the same mistake…right?” she asked slowly. Miguel sighed, knowing where this was going.

“Yes.”

She let out a slight laugh to herself, wiping her mouth with her hand as she felt the anger rising inside of her. “And you get off scot-free right?”

“Lorena, it’s not like that-”

“No, you know what, it sure seems it's that way. Big shot Miguel O’Hara gets to strut around destroying universes at his own will-”

“That’s not true and you know it.” He was starting to yell now too, standing up now as well.

She continued though. “While the rest of us can’t even get a restful night of sleep without fearing that some guy in a red and blue suit is gonna come from behind and slit our backs open?!”

“I’m trying to stop it from happening again!”

“Then why are you always too late, huh?”

Silence echoed through the room.

“If you’re trying so hard to stop the same thing from happening again, why is my entire home gone? Why is everyone I love fucking dead Miguel?!” she shouted, her volume growing louder and louder.

“That isn’t my fault!”

“And it’s not mine either, so why should I be punished for it?! Do you think I asked for this? I didn’t ask to watch my entire world disappear before my eyes as I ran away like a fucking coward!”

“You know what, you are a coward. Because at least I didn’t run. At least I tried to help!”

“Oh how noble of you! Everyone give it up for Miguel O’Hara, the hero who can do no wrong!” Lorena mocked. “You’re a fucking hypocrite, Miguel!” This conversation was the first time she used his first name as well, but both of them were too busy clawing at each other’s throats to notice.

“At least I’m doing my job right! The more anomalies like you I put away, the better the multiverse will be. You sick fucks don’t do anything except cause trouble for everyone else. And to the ones who’s worlds are already gone? You creatures had it coming to you. You deserved what happened to you, you fucking anomaly!”

Miguel felt the sharp sting of Lorena’s palm against his cheek. “You call me that word again O’Hara and I swear to god, I won’t hesitate to kill you, take your watch, and run,” she stated, boiling with rage, before storming off into the bathroom and slamming the door shut.

She pressed her hands to the door as her back slid down it. She then slammed her fists onto the hard tile, repeatedly, her own strength cracking it even more. Blood flew from her skin as she continued to take her anger out on the floor, until her hands were shaking out of control. His words continued to echo through her head. You deserved it. Coward. Anomaly.

Shakily, she stood up from the ground, and leaned her bloody hands on the sink counter in front of the mirror. Her own reflection looked ashamed of her. Memories ran through her head. Her uncle shot dead on the street. Her aunt looking to her, eyes wide, unsure of what was happening to her as she disappeared from existence. Then, it was coming to her again. Eddie.

~~~~~~~~~~~

She had been fighting the symbiote for what felt like hours. Thankfully, the surrounding area of the city had already been evacuated, so she wasn’t as worried about the alien hurting civilians. But she was beginning to get tired, and the gashes in the side of her suit from the alien’s claws were starting to take a toll on her. Remembering a lesson in class about symbiotes and their weaknesses, she took two metal poles from the destruction around her, and banged them together to break apart the alien.

As its warped screams tore through the atmosphere from the clanging, Lorena took the opportunity to finally use her acid webs to slice off one of its arms. It worked. While it was still broken apart, she managed to stab the body inside the alien straight in the chest with a jagged pole. Once the symbiote fell to the ground, and the black goo started to crawl away from the body in search of a new host, Lorena could feel her heart sink into the bottom of her stomach.

Even while dying, he was still beautiful to her.

Eddie Brock. The boy she loved her whole life.

His arm was sliced off and blood was gushing out of his midsection. Lorena ripped her sweaty mask off her face as she rushed towards his body. “No no no no Eddie, what are you doing here,” she asked him, while pressing her hands to his chest to stop the bleeding, as if that would actually do anything. “I-I…didn’t k-know,” was all he could manage to get out. “Shhh, it’s okay, I’m gonna get you out of here, it’s gonna be fine,” she blurted out, hot tears already burning her face. She felt his hand grab hers, then pulled her head down to his lips. She pressed her lips to his as the tears transferred down from her face to his. Once he let go, he managed to whisper something to her.

“Don’t lose your heart.”

Lorena feverishly shook his body as the light left his eyes. “Eddie please don’t do this to me, please just stay with me, don’t do this,” she pleaded and begged to him over and over and over again. Her suit was stained in red from sitting next to his bleeding body for so long, her hands most effected. She sobbed over his body until morning, fleeing the scene when the police came to inspect the area.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

She cradled herself into a little cocoon on the shiny, yellow tile as she silently wept. Miguel was right about her. And she knew it.

Once she was finally finished, she stood up and wiped her swollen eyes. “Idiot,” she said quietly to herself.

-----------------

NEXT CHAPTER

a/n: the chapter was starting to get super long so i just decided to split it into 2 so chapter 7 should be out pretty soon since i've already got most of it done

taglist: @the-ikran-man @jenniferdixon05207 @yuuuumii @elwyn7 @waniesss @lust-for-pan @natthernandez @pix-stuff @ang3lf4c3 @artfulthoughtswp

#across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #miguel o’hara #fanfic #into the spider verse #spiderman across the spiderverse #fanfiction #fem!reader #spiderverse #miguel o'hara x oc #oc x miguel o'hara #spiderman #spiderman oc #spiderverse oc #bite the hand

45 notes · View notes

witchersmistress · 2 years ago

Text

Stolen by the monster part 4

hello my darling creatures!!! i have brought part 4 to you, it is under construction much like my rainstorm and hate sex series so if it is mismatching, im on my way to mend it. but in the mean time enjoy this portion.

Warning: my usual for this style!

word count: 2K

as a reminder, i do not give permission to use my stories or work without asking. if you do ill haunt you for the rest of your days...

Walking back to my office, it wasn't my intention to go that far with you but I was on a timeline, one that I wasn't eager to miss. My plans to ruin Ethan Hunt were still the same but you being pregnant would just be icing on the cake. Imagine the look on his face when he learns that the daughter, he never met, was defined by the very monster he was meant to stop and you, being the sweet loving girl you are, would never get rid of that baby no matter what anyone told you.

My balls ached with the thought of you swollen with my child. There was a small voice in the back of my head that was telling me that it was wrong to use you this way but I didn't care about that when you said that I could use you anyway to get back at your father. I lost control which is something I normally don't do. Placing the sedative back into the safe I made my way to my bedroom, nothing out of its place, I walked into my ensuite bathroom, turning the shower on as the steam filled the room. I went about my nightly routine, as I crawled into bed with my little black book. Trying to read and i couldnt focus on anything, my thoughts drifted back to you, knocked out in your bed, your thighs slick with my cum, fuck, your moans bouncing around in my head. My cock was at half mast and I could barely stand it. With a frustrated sigh I closed the book. Giving up on trying. Yanking the blankets off my legs, I swung them and stood.

Moving through the hallowed hall towards your room. Pushing the door open, I found you in the center of the bed. That cat of yours on a pillow, its yellow eyes glaring at me, that stupid creature. I moved closer to your dresser, opening drawers to find some kind of sleepwear for you. I'd be far too tempted if I left you naked. I may be a monster but that's a line I will not cross. Finding a plain spaghetti strapped black nightgown, I pulled it over your head, pulled each arm into each strap and pulled it down your lush body, stopping at your hips. I saw the dry cum on your thighs, walking to your ensuite bathroom. I grabbed a washcloth and ran it under the warm water, adding a small amount of soap.

Walking back to your bed, I spread your thighs and cleaned up the mess I had left. I never regretted my actions of taking you from your home, and keeping you captive, even trying to force you to carry my child. I regret that I lost control. wiping the soft flesh of your lush thighs, you let out a soft moan.

Drying your thighs and grabbing you a pair of underwear and shimmied them up your hips, giving your ass a gentle squeeze, as i went to pull the night gown down i say the tell tale signs of bruises forming, fuck you bruise easily. You could see the outline of my hands forming on your hips. Pulling the duvet backup and

laying on the other side of you and pulling you closer to me. Pressing your back to my front, your warmth spreading across me, I feathered kisses across your shoulder blades as you snuggled close. “Your going to be the death of me little one” i made eye contact with that cat on your pillow, it was purring and was watching me. That damn creature. Ignoring it as we settled in. Tucking a long strand of your hair behind your ear, you rolled over and pressed your face into my chest and gave me a few kisses before settling back into a deep sleep. Suppressing a groan deep in my chest, laying on my back and pulling you with me. Goddamn you really will be my downfall.

Your POV

I felt unusually warm, and a heavy weight on my mid section. Cracking open an eye, I looked up to see Jess looking at me, “Hi sweet baby” reaching out a hand to pet her. She rolled over and showed me her belly. Someone shifted behind me, I rolled over carefully to come face to face with August. I jumped back a little. What in the actual fuck was that man doing in my bed. He still had an arm wrapped around me. I lazily drew a finger across his exposed pecks, tracing the scars he had, this particular one, I think was from the fuel burn from my father, in his attempt to stop August. he was built like that dude from the witcher. A grumble vibrated deep in his chest, “What are you looking at, little one?” while i fumbled with my words, he quickly shifted, and pulled me underneath him as he settled between my thighs. “Curiosity killed the cat you know.” he stated as he nipped at the soft flesh of my tender breasts. I gave him a small smile and tried to wiggle my way out from underneath him.

Hissing as he settled more of his weight on my lower half. My abdomen coils and throbs from the pain settling and his weight on me. Showing the displeasure and discomfort in my face, August cocked an eyebrow as he moved off me. I slid off the bed and tried to make my way to the ensuite bathroom. “Sweet girl what's wrong” his big hand encircled my wrist stopping me from going “August, i don't feel well” he looked me up and down before settling on my legs and his eyes grew wide. I looked down and saw the blood running down my leg. “Verdammt” I hissed, my body sometimes can just be a wicked bitch. He was up and out of bed before I could speak, he grabbed a dark towel from the bathroom and folded it before placing it back on the bed. “Sit” he said, it wasn't a suggestion.

Still at the door, he says, “A bath is waiting for you. Take your clothes off and I’ll be in shortly.” When he closes the door, I do as I’m told, skating my fingers along the wood as I make my way into the bathroom. In the center is a free-standing bath with shiny claw feet. Breathing in deep, I strip and step into the warm pool of water as steam drifts from the rippling surface and hangs in the surrounding air. Sinking down into its depths, the water rising to just over my breasts, I lean my head back on the lip and close my eyes. The warmth and buoyancy lessen the pain in my abdomen. I hum my enjoyment. Hazing through my mind are sparring emotions, wanting to both be in awe and love but also curl up in silence until I don’t feel so raw about everything that has transpired. “You’re a survivor,” I mutter to myself. It is not long before I hear the wooden door rattle on the hinges as it opens, and footsteps move in that graceful, measured way that only August Walker can pull off with a six-foot-one physique. “You do not have to do this,” I say, opening my eyes and sitting up to find him pulling a chair over to the bathtub. He is still in his dark pj bottoms, still shirtless revealing cords of veins, curves of muscles.

“I know, sweet girl.” He picks up a loofa and lathers it with soap scented like coconut before brushing it gently down my shoulders and chest. I shake my head in amusement, I can't quite figure this man out.. As he washes me, I can’t stop noticing how I used him as a scratching post and how he has more evidence of our steamy night than even me. I reach out and grab his forearm, inspecting the gashes that would have wept with blood. He holds still, letting me look. “You look like a feral cat attacked you.” “A sweet little wolf, actually,” he says, his voice deeper, more gravely, while afflicted with fatigue. I presume he hadn't slept long before i woke him

It’s an incredibly sexy sound; sleepy August Walker. Gruff. Husky. Yummy. “A stray wolf,” I mutter, releasing his forearm. His hand dips, breaching the warm surface, sinking to cup my abdomen.

Even as tiredness moves in waves through his irises, they are no less controlled, no less attentive. “Is that self-deprecating behavior going to return?” he says. “I thought we were making progress. Do you need a repeat of what happened a few days past” His hoarse tone, wrapped in sleepy huskiness, reaches deep inside me. I still think about the sting as he spanked me.I shook my body, sending waves of sensation to my already beating clit. Then I remember the way I felt in the wake of that moment. The subtle burn. A feeling of safety. Accountability. The way I trusted him that little bit more... “Do you think I need it, Sir?” He strokes my empty abdomen as though his tenderness can fix the hollowing of my womb. “Perhaps. Are you cramping?” “It feels better in the water.” He lowers his hands and massages my thighs, deep tissue pressure that loosens and comforts. He’s strong, dominant in the way he touches me, but in no way rough or overstimulating. My eyes bat close, and I melt beneath the meticulous hands of the most intense, dangerous, and beautiful man I have ever met.

While his hands slowly work around my entire body, he talks to me. “When I say you belong to me and that I will take care of you, this is what I mean. You are not a stray. You are owned. I warned you once to tell me to stop. I warned you what it meant to belong to me... True, I didn’t plan on keeping you then. I do now. There will be times when you hate me. For what I have to do. I am sure of it. That will change nothing between us. I want you to know that if you try to leave, I will hunt you down. I want you to find comfort in the fact that you have no choice. You are mine. Because ever since I laid eyes on you, sweet girl, that is the only place they have wanted to be.”

I look at him. Moaning as he palms my breasts gently, I feel my nipples pebbling against his palm. “You will hunt me down, Sir? Why would I want to leave?”

“I am a sinful man.”

“A dangerous man,”

I agree, pridefully, without a hint of care for the rest of the world. I swallow hard. “I wish I was a dangerous person.” A grin coasts across his lips. “My affections for you make you the most dangerous girl in the country,” he states seriously, and I exhale, a flitter of contentment moving into my chest, finding comfort in his darkness. It is potent, that flitter, spreading out like stems, curling into each cell. I remember my mother talking about reincarnation. About how we turn into a vibrant, uninhibited butterfly after this harsh existence as a weak, humble caterpillar. But I don’t want to wait until I am dead to experience my own reincarnation. I want it right now. In a cocoon of August Walker. I hope that in my second life, I am a monarch butterfly.

They are graceful.

Beautiful.

And poisonous.

#henry cavill #august walker imagines #august walker #august walker fanfic #august walker fanfiction #henry cavill characters #henry cavill x you #henrycavill smut #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill thirst

50 notes · View notes

are-we-still-friends15 · 1 year ago

Text

12.06, 4:35 am

the night we first kissed, you were reading my letters i wrote for her

now im writing to you

its funny how we ended up like this

i really thought we would last, at least as friends after we broke up

we promised each other we would

but its been 2 months since we last talked

i got diagnosed with a severe panic disorder

thats what was happening to me during our last months together

i guess you were the trigger, but it wasnt your fault

i think i kind of knew we wouldnt last when you didnt say i love you back that night

and that fear of losing you was causing the panic attacks

but thats also how we grew distant, kind of ironic, self fulfilling prophecy or whatever

i miss you

i have days when you are barely in my thoughts, but when im by myself its basically free real estate for you

and you left a big hole

i wish i could talk to you directly, but i physically cant

everytime we would talk after we broke up i would have bad panic attacks

even now writing this, knowing you will never see it, i feel like im close to having one

i wanted to at least explain to you why i havent texted, but my psychologist said i shouldnt talk to you

at least not for now

its good for treatment apparently

but i guess this doesnt count so its ok

when you asked me how i was doing, i lied

i had a two week period where i didnt get out of bed

i couldnt eat, work or shower

the apartment was a mess

because in my mind you died

its a self defense mechanism i have since B, its how my mind deals with break ups

obviously i know youre not dead, and i dont want you to be

but my mind thinks theres no other way to deal with a breakup

so i was grieving you

for a solid two months

it hurts needing you back in my life but knowing that i cant

we wont work out as a couple anymore, and you know i cant be friends again if i still have feelings

and i have them now, and will do for a long time

but youre better off without me i think

im sorry

i miss you and i love you

im not sure if ill keep writing here

1 note · View note

just-some-random-blogger · 2 years ago

Note

13, 22, 25 & 32 - for the weird questions for writers

OMG 🤩 QUESTIONS FROM MY LOVE <3 [GIDDY LAUGHTER]

13. What is a subject matter that is incredibly difficult for you write about? What is easy?

lets start with easy. lol don't know if this counts as a subject but whatever my fixation is HAHHAH that's really easy to write. idk i think i'm mostly a fluff/crack writer. probably nonsensical/silly subjects are my forte HAHAHA i love writing weird pieces that make you giggle and think 'wtf did my eyes just witness' AHAHAHAHAH.

and well, i have expressed my joy in creating angst fics and i've had people cry at me for them, which is great HAHAHAH thus people may think i'm idk good at that but tbh i find writing angst really hard. i don't think i can write angst honestly; there is only a time and place when i can, and i usually go through a lot of prompt ideas for it, so if you see me reblogging any prompt ideas, then that probably means im going to attempt to write angst

22. How organized are you with your writing? Describe to me your organization method, if it exists. What tools do you use? Notebooks? Binders? Apps? The Cloud?

i have no idea if i'm organized at writing. ok wait maybe im not. im not the type of person that does bullet points or whatnot, though sometimes i do. i mostly just go ham and barf on the keyboard. my method is just go for it. i literally just use the text creator on wherever im going to be posting the fic. sometimes i do write on my phone notes, maybe ms word or gdocs, i used to write fics on my notebook whilst at school cos i would day dream too much (ive even written a story at the back of my exam paper because the interval between our exams was too long) i dont write on my notebooks anymore though, and again, i mostly just write on site textboxes.

25. What is a weird, hyper-specific detail you know about one of your characters that is completely irrelevant to the story?

see i flesh out my characters SO MUCH, esp if its like for a series im doing or if im writing for a really interesting prompt. then i just assume people can read the between the lines and know on instinct that 'oh this means she's probably into yoga' or some shit HAHAHH. suddenly i couldnt think of anything. had to rack my brain for this one. in stone cold, i imagined reader showering her step kids with tons of gifts during their namedays and them being partial to her during events cos she enables sweeties and is the cool third parent 'I WANNA SIT NEXT TO HER' 'NO I WANNA' 'everyone stfu'

32. What is a line from a poem/novel/fanfic etc that you return to from time and time again? How did you find it? What does it mean to you?

well, i have tons and tons of favorite lines from the little prince that i could gladly share but i thought of a line from to kill a mockingbird, which is the only thing i got from that book cause i didn't get passed... like 5 pages of it T_T HAHAHAH. 'Maycomb County had recently been told that it had nothing to fear but fear itself' this was my pinned tweet when i had a twitter way back in the olden days. HAAHH. yeah i just found it in the book i borrowed. and i only borrowed it cos my library had like a bazillion new copies for some reason, also i wanted bragging rights 'i read that :P'. i just think the line puts an interesting introspective light on things. like, fear is in your head, you're only as scared as you think you are. but also, i like the fact it also doest make sense to me and it sounds like a silly line posing as something profound HAAHAHH

thank you for stopping by my ask my love <3 <3 <3

#sylas-the-grim cutie #ask #writer games

1 note · View note

therhythmafterthesummer · 2 years ago

Text

It’s Warm In (M) ~Bang Chan

Pairing: Werewolf!Chan x Human!F.Reader Themes: Supernatural/Fantasy AU | Smut | Fluff | Established Relationship Warnings: swearing · pet names · graphic depictions of intercourse (smut warnings under the cut) · bit of PWP ngl... Word Count: ~4k | AO3 Summary: You try to spend an intimate, relaxing evening with your boyfriend a handful of months after his rut. [This story is an instalment of my WereRoomies series].

Author’s note: A sort of part 2 to It’s Cold Out & Rut because i love these two and i’m weak !!

Due to all the abovementioned warnings, this story is intended for an adult audience only. Minors please do not interact.

Chris’ WereRoomies Instalments: It’s Cold Out · Rut · Alpha Dog · It’s Warm In · Love is Easy · Afraid to Lose You. For extra drabbles, check out the series masterlist.

Smut Warnings: unprotected intercourse [piv. no barrier method, but the reader is presumed to be on birth control] · snowballing · a barely even present breeding kink

Disclaimer: the story represented in this work does not represent Stray Kids in any way; anything described in this story and all actions performed by the characters are purely fictional, this was created just for good fun.

< You: hey handsome < anything you want from the store < ?

> Chris 🐺💕: hey pretty baby > just want you > really really been thinking about you all day > couldnt get the sight of your plump lips around my cock out of my mind > fuck > been driving me nuts > ill be home as soon as i can

Smiling to yourself you continued your walk down the aisles in the grocery store, shaking your head slightly, taking items as you went and dumping them into your cart. This morning you had woken up late to get ready for work, but that hadn’t stopped you from tugging your boyfriend into the shower and sucking him dry.

Because Chris was your boyfriend.

As soon as his rut had passed and you had had a couple of days to recover–because holy shit, you really had to take a lot those days–he had taken you out on a date to the seasonal fair, tugging you along to the many different rides and games, winning prizes for you, you winning prizes for him–all as he blushed profusely whenever you gave him a gift or whenever your hands brushed as if he hadn’t shoved his monster cock in you repeatedly for a few days in a row a couple of days prior.

By the end of your date he had kissed you deeply under the fairy lights that littered the roads on your way back home, asking you ‘would you like to be my girlfriend, pretty?’ as if you hadn’t let him call you ‘his’ repeatedly countless times in the past week. You had said yes, because you would’ve been caught dead before you said no to this man.

In the handful of months that followed you discovered that he was a good boyfriend–not perfect, because nobody is perfect, but it was pretty close to it. Chris was responsible, funny, supportive, he made sure to make you feel included, and he cared. It honestly should’ve been a bit sad that the bar was so low, but it was, and he was jumping fifty metres over it.

During his rut, you came to find out in one of your talks in between waves that even if you weren’t a werewolf yourself, Chris’ pheromones had affected you then. You hadn’t even known before that your body was capable of producing such amounts of fluids, almost as if your body was trying to make it easier for you to take a knot, never in your life had you felt that horny either. You liked to think of yourself as a healthy young adult, with healthy young adult needs and wants, but the level of desperation for cock during the duration of his rut had truly been out of this world.

When you commented it to Chris he simply said, ‘Yeah, I heard about it from my friends who have gone through their rut with regular humans… If you think about it, it makes sense. Werewolves have been mating with humans for centuries, not only with other werewolves, so makes sense our species have evolved for this’.

You must admit that once your hormones calmed down after his rut and you were able to think properly again, you had been slightly worried. Chris had been scenting you, and he did confess he didn’t like you smelling like other men, which could’ve potentially meant he would be overly possessive and controlling. You were pleasantly surprised, though, that that wasn’t the case. Never once did he try to stop you from doing absolutely anything because other men would be there, if anything, he encouraged you to leave your shared home and have fun as much as you wanted–although Chris did cling to you as much as he could whenever other men came close to you while he was there, which you admittedly didn’t care much about.

‘Just because I’m biologically fucked doesn’t mean I’ll keep you from leaving the house, you must live your life, just like I live mine’, Chris had told you when you voiced these worries to him, adding a ‘besides, at the end of the day you’ll always come back and I can be all over you and get the pleasure of scenting you again, it’s a win/win!’ which had made you laugh.

You did decide to make an extra effort, though, asking him for some items you could take with you when you went to work or school or to your friends’ to keep his scent on you, which made him blush and get shy and giggle because ‘wow, my pretty baby wants my scent on her? You’re so good to me, I’m so lucky…’

That morning after you blew him in the shower, he had attempted to go down on you, but you had to turn him down since you were running out of time, which made him pout and whine and complain because ‘I want to satisfy you, babe. Please…’ But you wouldn’t let him, instead promising to let him have his way with you all night long tonight if he wanted since you both didn’t work on Saturdays, meaning you could sleep in.

> Chris 🐺💕: on second thought > could u bring a bag of those small brownies u got last time > ? > really fancy some

You chuckled at the message, manoeuvring the shopping cart to turn back to the baked goods section.

< You: sure thing baby < anything you want

> Chris 🐺💕: 🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤💜🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤 > 🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

When you finally made it back home you put away what needed to be in the fridge and freezer and left the rest on the counter, deciding to put it away later after you got to rest a bit. It had been a tedious day at work, and you had only gone grocery shopping because Chris had gone to the store the past three times, so you felt like you needed to contribute.

A hot shower and two face masks later you felt alive again, like a person–not like a robot crammed in an office. Putting on one of Chris’ hoodies, you threw yourself on the sofa, mindlessly scrolling all social media platforms you had an account on to get some boost of dopamine to satisfy and distract you.

Two hours later, your boyfriend finally made it back, spotting you on the sofa as soon as he came through the door, a big smile plastered on his face making his eyes disappear. Chris dropped his backpack right there, making a beeline to where you were already waiting for him on the sofa with open arms.

When he dropped himself on top of you with a grunt, you couldn’t help but let out a minute ‘oof’, your limbs coming to wrap themselves around him, pulling him into you as you peppered his face with kisses, making him giggle. ‘Welcome home, darling’ You mumbled to him as he came to place a kiss on your lips, his hands going under your body to cup your bum and pull you to him.

“God, what a long fucking day…” His mouth descended from your lips to your jaw, pressing open mouthed kisses there while his hand squeezed your buttock. “Rest here, babe. I need a shower urgently, desperately”.

You chuckled, your limbs releasing their hold around Chris’ body so he could stand back up to walk towards the entrance, picking his backpack up from where he had thrown it and making his way towards his room to start his nightly routine. You did as asked–not like you had any plans on moving from this spot any time soon anyway–picking up the remote and turning the TV on to find something relaxing to entertain you while you waited.

You’d come to learn that non-rut-driven Chris liked to take his time with you. He’d edge you and tease you and make you squirm in bliss even before he got to actually penetrate you–and you would let him, because why wouldn’t you. If you ever were desperate enough for some quick relief you knew that you just had to look him in the eyes, muster the firmest tone you could to beg and he’d have you coming undone in seconds, but most of the time you’d just let him do whatever he wanted–just like you were doing now.

“So soft… So pretty…” His hands dragged from your neck, to your chest, to your belly, your thighs, and back up–his fingers softly digging on your skin as they went, while his cock eased itself between your folds, stretching you open further than his fingers had in the past hour.

You were already a trembling, sweaty mess by this point, his mouth and his fingers alone having had their way with you enough for you to still feel the aftereffects of your orgasm lingering on your skin, feeling tingly. Chris didn’t look one bit as worked up as you, which was not surprising. His supernatural capabilities made it so he barely even broke a sweat, but you did enjoy seeing the deepening flush on his chest and his face as his length buried as much as it could within your core.

“You’re pretty…” You commented absentmindedly, his flush deepening slightly at the comment. Taking your hand in his Chris brought it to his face, resting it on his cheek with his hand above yours while the other held onto your waist, his hips starting to move back and forth.

Your sofa had seen you two fucking more times than you could count; the thing was wide, spacious–enough to keep a pack of eight werewolves comfortable when they hung out. It was warm and cosy and you would lie if you said you didn’t like it when he fucked you here. You wondered sometimes if the others would be able to smell it when they came over, if they did, you didn’t care one bit–not like they didn’t know what went on behind closed doors anyway.

As soon as the rest of his pack found out about you two they had started to tease Chris incessantly–not you, though. They smiled warmly at you and told you how happy they were for you, but you came to find out from Seungmin that they all knew Chris had been harbouring a crush on you for the longest time, and they loved to tease him for it. ‘Why do you think we were calling you mum?’ He told you at the time with a chuckle, to which you just pouted, mustering a mock-hurt tone, ‘and here I was thinking you guys actually liked to come to me for help…’ to which he quickly replied ‘we do! We just love teasing Christopher more’ which had made you both laugh and made Chris stare daggers at the both of you as he poked his tongue out.

Chris’ hips kept that tantalisingly slow pace, as if his cock was trying to savour every single centimetre of your walls. Your thumb moved, swiping over his bottom lip briefly as his tongue peeked from between his lips to land a couple of tentative swipes on the tip–almost like he was urging you to push it into his mouth. So you did, feeling his plump lips close around the digit as his eyes closed and his eyebrows scrunched together, his hips stuttering slightly–but he recovered quickly.

The air left your lungs the moment Chris’ eyes opened again and stared back at you, swallowing thickly at the sudden deep stroke against you. His hand moved away from yours, bringing it instead to your shoulder to keep you from sliding up as he moved. Removing your hand from his face you brought it close to you, sucking the thumb into your mouth to get the taste of him, all without breaking that borderline dangerous eye-contact you kept with him.

“You’re playing with fire, pretty baby…” The hand on your waist moved, dragging all the way down for him to push on your pubic bone, the pressure making you whimper.

His hip movements were slow, but they had you moaning softly as soon as he started moving, your chest heaving as one of your hands reached to hold onto his on your shoulder and the other gripped the cushion under your head. Licking your lips, you bit back. “I’ve been playing with fire since the day I moved to a werewolf den, babe…”

“Oh?” His hand moved from your shoulder, laying it on the side of your neck while bringing one of your legs to rest against his front with the other hand–settling on your thigh after to grip the flesh as he started to thrust harder, but still slow, the sudden change in angle earning him a surprised moan from your lips. “So all this time you had been trying to rile me up on purpose?”

“Ma–maybe”, fuck, you really could feel him in your throat when he went deep into you, the motions stealing the air out of your lungs every single time and making your eyes flutter and your abdomen clench.

Of course you had been riling him up on purpose. The moment you had realised that you had developed a crush on him you couldn’t stop yourself from trying to get a reaction from him. Looking him in the eyes, wearing questionable outfits when you hung out, or walking around the flat in skimpy pyjamas, sometimes not even wearing underwear underneath. But Chris, good boy Chris, had never even noticed you had done all those things with intent, much less did he make an advance–not until that afternoon when his rut hit him unexpectedly, at least.

“Is that why you’re looking me in the eyes right now? To rile me up? Pretty baby wants me to go feral and try to secure my position in the pack?” Chris chuckled, the hand on your neck moving further up, reaching your cheek to rest on for his thumb to swipe over your bottom lip briefly, only for him to push it into your mouth.

You held his gaze, your tongue licking his digit in your mouth while the pace of his hips picked up, going faster than before but not quite fast yet. You couldn’t help but moan, your eyebrows scrunching together as you struggled slightly to keep your eyes open, which made Chris huff out a chuckle.

His thumb popped out of your mouth, swiping the remaining saliva over your bottom lip and your chin. “I just–Shit, so good, baby…” It was becoming harder and harder to construct coherent sentences, your mind clouding with every clash of his hips against you. “I just like your eyes…” The expression on his face changed, going from that smug look he had when he challenged you to something softer, warmer, and it made your heart flutter. “The–Fuck… The fact that it riles you up is just a bonus, babe”.

Chris laughed at that, removing his hand from your cheek to bring it to your other leg so he could push it to join the other resting against his front. Placing a hand on the sofa for support, he tilted forward, just enough for your hips to angle a certain way under his weight, letting his cock hit that area within your walls that made you arch your back and moan repeatedly. “What a troublemaker… Not even remotely scared of the big bad wolf, hm?”

You swallowed thickly, shaking your head slightly. Heat spread over your face, the new position making you clench your lower abdomen, your eyes fluttering shut as his pace picked up, moving much faster. How could you be scared of them? Of him? You had already trusted him in one of your most vulnerable states, there was no space for fear in you.

Chris’ free hand held onto your legs, your flesh dipping under his tight hold. “Mmm, so pretty. My pretty girl…”

“Chris…” The movement of his hips was getting faster, and, as you stared up at him, with your eyes hyperfocusing on those lips of his, you couldn’t help but feel an urge. “Feels… Fuck. Feels like a criminal offence that you’re not kissing me right now…”

His hold on your legs relented, letting you move them to wrap them around his middle as he leaned into you, his mouth finding yours in a mess of lips, teeth, and tongues while your arms circled his shoulders, one of your hands tangling in his hair as Chris kept himself up on one forearm, the hand on the opposite arm sneaking below your body to hold your buttcheek. You truly felt insatiable when you held onto him like this, feeling him on you, in you, all over you… It’d never be enough of his mouth, of his hands, of his hips and his cock, never enough of him.

His grip on your rear tightened the longer he pounded you, maybe a bit too tight, but you didn’t mind, if anything the more it tightened the more you moaned, the sounds filtering through your kiss. His lower abdomen was stimulating your clit constantly, while his werewolf cock stretched you open, working you up and steadily building your impending release in just the way Chris had learnt how to do it.

When he pulled away from your mouth, his eyes found yours, the lack of a barrier now letting your whines and whimpers run freely from your mouth, joining the sound of your hips colliding as well as the low sounds playing from the now ignored TV in the background and the pitter-patter of rain against the windows of your home. Your eyes fluttered shut as his hips started to move even faster, harder, his grip on your buttock finally relenting just slightly.

“Open your eyes, then. Look at me, love”, his face was close, so you found his eyes with ease. His gaze was enticing, so dark and loaded with all the lust you undoubtedly knew he had for you and you couldn’t help but tremble as soon as you locked eyes with him. It was intense, maybe too intense, that familiar itch sneaking under your skin, urging you to look away. “Don’t you dare look away, pretty. Look your alpha in the eyes just how you like to… Look at me while you cream around my cock”.

Your whole body shook with your release, soft whimpers falling from your lips as warmth spread from your lower abdomen to every single crevice of your body, goosebumps rising on your flesh. You managed to keep your eyes open, the flush you felt on your face deepening under Chris’ heavy gaze.

The after effects of your orgasm weakened your hold around him, letting Chris pull himself from your embrace with ease, his cock leaving the comfort of your tight walls for them to be replaced with his hand, pumping his length right above your lower belly. “So fucking good for me–Fuck!”

You couldn’t help the whine that escaped you as you felt his warm seed painting your body, covering your entire torso from your mound to your chest, some of it almost landing on your chin as the most delicious, most sinful sounds left his mouth. You loved to hear him moan and grunt and groan and any time he came you couldn’t help but let yourself enjoy those sounds, your swollen core clenching around nothing as you bit your lip and more heat crept onto your face.

Chris was panting heavily, his face and his chest were flushed and he looked down at you with so much care in his eyes you couldn’t help but blush further. Eyeing your body up and down for a second, his tongue peeked out from between his lips, only to finally dip, licking a long stripe from your belly, between your breasts, until he reached your chest, effectively collecting some of his seed in his mouth.

Taking a hold of your face, with your chin now resting in his palm as his fingers lightly dug on your cheeks, he leaned in, pushing his tongue into your mouth for you to lick his cum off of him. All you could do was moan, holding onto him as you lapped him up. It was not the first time he had made you eat the results of his climax like this, and it would certainly not be the last, you liked it too much. You truly had hit the jackpot with the supernatural boyfriend who produced an ungodly amount of fluids and had little inhibitions when it came to the bedroom.

“Fuck, babe… You’re gonna kill me one of these days”, you murmured against his mouth, completely breathless.

Chris just laughed softly, moving away from your mouth to pepper kisses around your face–your cheeks, your nose, your eyelids, your chin, anywhere he felt like kissing, all while his fingers brushed over your now soiled body, only to finally reach your heat, easing two of his fingers between your folds to get at least some of his seed into your cunt.

“You’re so good to me, pretty…” Burying his face in the crook of your neck, he left kisses on your neck, too–his body shuffling a bit to finally let his fingers out of you and lay comfortably on you without crushing you, completely uncaring of his cum sticking to him.

Holding Chris in your arms as your hand sneaked in his hair and softly caressed his scalp was possibly one of your favourite activities, especially after sex. It made you feel warm and fuzzy and you knew it made him feel that way, too. ‘If werewolves could purr, you’d certainly be purring now, baby’, you had told him once, which had only made him further bury his face in your neck and his ears turn a cute shade of pink.

A sudden frantic knocking reverberated in your flat, breaking your little bubble and disrupting the comfortable silence that had settled between you two, making Chris groan. “I can’t believe them… Right now of all times…” He rubbed his face on your shoulder, while you simply chuckled, patting him on the back.

“You should answer, darling. Whoever it is clearly needs you enough to knock this much”.

With a dramatic sigh, Chris removed himself from your space, reaching for his discarded vest top on the floor to wipe the cum sticking to his abs, his chest, and his chin, handing it over to you to do the same while he walked towards the front door, still pretty much butt-naked.

Chris opened the door slightly, ajar enough just to peek his head around and see outside. “We’re fucking, what do you want?” Annoyance rolled thickly off of him, and his comment made you laugh from where you were laying on the sofa.

“Sorry, man, but I really need to talk”, you recognised the voice on the other side of the door as Changbin, the man completely unfazed by Chris’ comment–which didn’t surprise you, considering how common this exact situation had become in your life.

“Can’t it wait like… Two hours?”

“Two hours?!” Changbin shrieked. “No it cannot wait two fucking hours! It’s really urgent!”

Chris sighed, and he shot you an apologetic look. You just smiled at him, gesturing for him to carry on. “Fine, give me a few minutes”, with that, Chris closed the door, coming back to you on the sofa, picking up his discarded shorts as he leaned in to press a soft kiss to your lips. “I’m sorry, baby. We’re gonna have to pick this up later”.

Shaking your head, you placed a kiss on his cheek, truly feeling okay with it. “No need for apologies”, standing up from the sofa, you picked up the hoodie from the floor, holding it to your chest as you walked past your boyfriend, making your way to the bathroom. “Pack matters are of the utmost importance, babe. You can’t leave our pups hanging”.

“Fuck, I’m trying not to fuck you”, Chris came to your side, smacking your rear playfully as you continued walking. “Don’t go all ‘Pack Mum’ on me, I’ll seriously need to leave Changbin standing out there if you do”.

You just laughed in response, a soft blush spreading over your cheeks as you finally made it to the bathroom so you could clean up the remnants of his cum from your body.

Author’s note x2: if you’re curious as to what Changbin needed so urgently, you can take a look at Finding Comfort in Autumn :)

Constructive feedback is always welcome !

Chris’ WereRoomies Instalments: It’s Cold Out · Rut · Alpha Dog · It’s Warm In · Love is Easy · Afraid to Lose You. For extra drabbles, check out the series masterlist.

#stray kids supernatural au #stray kids fantasy AU #stray kids werewolf au #bang chan smut #stray kids smut #stray kids fanfiction #bang chan fanfiction #bang chan fic #bang chan x reader #chan x reader #skz fanfic #skz fanfiction #stray kids fanfic #werewolf chan #✨🌙✏

2K notes · View notes

vngelgyu · 3 years ago

Text

untitled.1

this fic contains 18+ content. minors do not interact.

☆ pairing - bf!taehyun x afab!reader

☆ warnings - public(gym shower) sex, unprotected sex, gagging with a shirt, fingering, creampie.

☆ word count - 1.1k

☆ genre - smut

☆ description - taehyun getting hard at the gym and abandoning his self control.

☆ authors note - this is a request, written for @en-boyz , i hope you like it

☆ tags - @sweethyuka @sweetiehyuka @bluesoobinnie @fallinforwoo

taehyun didnt think anything of it when you decided to wear a pair of tight shorts to the gym with him. he wasnt the type to dictate your apparel or anything like that. so when you came out of the room in one of his shirts and shorts, he had no specifically negative or sexual thoughts. of course he found you beautiful but you were just wearing clothes. he wouldnt expect you to wear pants to the gym.

now, usually he can handle seeing you in your tight work out gear, but today he couldnt help but watch you through the big mirror on the wall. his eyes were glued to your ass as you did your squats, and he had all but abandoned his workout at this point.

taehyun was typically pretty strong willed. he wasnt the type to bend you over the counter while youre cooking, or fuck you in the backseat of his car. he had never dragged you from a public setting to fuck you out of jealousy or just simple lack of control, but as he held your feet down while you did sit-ups, all he wanted to do was reach under you, pull your shorts down, and bury his face between your legs.

he was torn between wanting you for himself and wanting to fuck you in the middle of the gym in front of all the men who wouldnt stop undressing you with their eyes. but after a lot of consideration, he decided on dragging you to the showers as he didnt think youd appreciate getting fucked against the mirror for all the other people to see.

taehyun stood behind you as you stood back up from one of your squats and you could feel his boner on your ass for a second before he took a step back. just that feeling alone had you understanding why he seemed so distracted. it was obvious to you that his control was wearing thin, but what you didnt know was that it was. completely gone. so you bent over to grab your towel, assuming that you were about to leave.

once you stood, you made your way to him and asked "do you need to leave?". you knew taehyun wasnt the type to take you in a public place so leaving seemed like the best option, but taehyun had other ideas.

he shook his head and then grabbed your hand before leading you in the direction of the womens showers.

"tae? what are you-"

taehyun had pulled you into the shower and pushed you against the wall before smashing his lips on yours and cutting you off. you kissed him back and let out a small whine as one of his hands slid to your ass and the other slid under your shirt to feel your chest.

taehyun moved his face down to your neck but you pushed him away slightly. "im sweaty" you told him, but he just pushed his face back to your neck, said "i dont care" and began sucking on it.

he then pulled your sports bra down, giving himself access to your nipples, before moving his hands down to your waist and pushing your shorts and underwear down.

you spread your legs slightly as taehyuns slim fingers found your clit and began rubbing quick circles against it. you couldnt help but moan at the feeling but taehyun wasnt having it. the last thing he wanted was to get caught, so he pulled his shirt over his head and balled it up slightly before stuffing it in your mouth. he placed his hand back between your legs but instead of going back to touching your clit, he plunged 2 fingers into you and began curling them inside you.

taehyun wanted this to be quick but he also wanted you to enjoy it as well, so he took his time prepping you while decorating your neck in hickeys. you were definitely gonna be embarrassed afterwards but you also loved when taehyun marked you. he wasnt the type to be outwardly possessive, so having his marks visible to everyone made you feel good inside. you liked letting people know that you belonged to someone.

satisfied with how wet you were, taehyun pulled his fingers out of you and then gently turned you around so that you were facing the wall. you put your hands up on the cold tile wall and arched your back to make it easier for him.

taehyun pulled his dick out and spit in his hand before stroking it a few times and then lining up with your entrance. he pushed in slowly but quickly picked pace after letting you get used to the stretch.

he wrapped his arm around you and slipped his hand between your legs to rub your clit once again and if you hadnt been gagged with his shirt, the whole gym would have been able to hear your moans. but luckily for you, it wasnt super packed so there wouldnt have been that many people.

taehyun continued to fuck you against the tile as he held your hip tightly with one hand and rubbed your clit with the other. you could feel your legs trembling under you, threatening to give out with every thrust.

taehyuns hips snapped into you harder, causing a loud smacking sound of your ass against his pelvis, which echoed louder because of the tile floor and walls. if someone walked in, they would 100% know what was going on, especially with the way the shirt was barely muffling your moans now.

you could feel yourself getting close and had a feeling taehyun was too by the way that he lost his rhythm and was basically just chasing his climax. typically he wouldnt be in a rush to cum but he had dealt with his boner for about 2 hours before finally doing something about it. and youd be lying if you said that you hated the roughness and fast pace.

taehyun snapped his hips into you a few more times before burying himself as deep as he could and pumping his cum into you. he somehow managed to keep his rhythm on your clit and worked you through your own orgasm while he shallowly rutted into you. his breathing was heavy in your ear and he tried to hold back from making any noises but the feeling of your walls milking him was too much and he let out a few of his own moans.

you pulled the shirt out of your mouth as taehyun pulled out and you let out a quiet whine at the feeling. your legs felt like jello, your shorts and underwear were around your knees, your neck was covered in hickeys, and any moment now, taehyuns cum was going to start leaking down your thighs, but before you could become a complete mess, he pulled your shorts up for you.

"ill make it up to you when we get home...i love you so much" he said as he put his dick away and leaned forward to kiss your cheek.

#txt smut #txt fluff #txt #txt taehyun #taehyun fluff #taehyun smut #taehyun #tomorrow by together smut #tomorrow by together fluff #tomorrow by together #tomorrow x together #tomorrow x together smut #taehyun x reader

614 notes · View notes

descendantofthesparrow · 2 years ago

Text

Harry Hook x Black Reader - Once upon a dream - oneshot

* Ah tryst = I promise

A/N; First quarter of fic takes place after D1, before Rise of the isle. I’ll let you know when the timeline changes/goes around the movies/books. Also I’m not nice to Mal in this so, if you like Mal? Probably won't like how I talk to her/refer to her in this heh, at least at the beginning, round the middle/end i get nicer and force her to have proper character development XD

(hair mb cuz i couldnt resist, totally optional styles i just made it for fun :3)

Once upon a time, not so long ago, a king and a queen had a beautiful daughter; which they named, Aurora. They had named her after the dawn, for she filled their lives with sunshine. Unfortunately, Aurora had been cursed at her christening, to fall into a sleep-like death at the age of 16. On her 16th birthday. Only by the hand of Merryweather, one of the three good fairies, Aurora's godmothers, had the curse been altered in a way to save Aurora’s life.

For she would not fall into a sleep-like death, but into a death-like sleep, at the prick of a spinning wheel, she would be cursed to sleep as such until true loves first kiss. Her kiss came in the form of her betrothed; Prince Phillip, and the kingdom rejoiced when princess Aurora returned to them, awake and well.

For years after that, into Aurora and Phillip's marriage, into the creation of Auradon, to the birth of their children; Audrey and (y/n), they thought all was well. That the curse Maleficent had put upon Aurora was over and done with.

Only to find Aurora's curse had extended to her youngest daughter; (y/n). Somehow, Audrey had been spared the somehow inherited curse, but (y/n); upon her 16th birthday, would fall into a death-like sleep. Nearly everyone in (y/n)’s life, had tried to do something to prevent the curse, to end it before it even began. All to no avail, no magic in the world could overwhelm the curse of Maleficent, not even the high-fae herself, Fairy Godmother, could defeat the long-lasting curse. So Aurora and Phillip decided to make the best of it, showering their daughter with love and hope, not forgetting to do the same with their eldest Audrey.

And so, even after all the effort to remove the curse and save their daughter's teenhood, princess (y/n) Briar Fabel went to bed on the night before her 16th birthday, having celebrated it with her family, her friends, and the kingdom nearly the entire week before; she went to bed knowing she might not wake up for however long, until true loves first kiss found her.

Audrey snuck into (y/n)’s room minutes before midnight, climbing into her queen-sized bed and holding her little sister close. “I love you (y/n)” Audrey whispered, smiling with tears in her eyes as (y/n) smiled back, glancing at her clock, only five minutes to midnight. “I love you too Aud” (y/n) whispered back, hugging her 11-month older sister tightly, laying her head on Audrey’s shoulder, and taking a deep breath.

(y/n) and Audrey watched the clock with a pit in their guts, counting the seconds as the clock slowly moved towards midnight. Just a minute before, their parents ended, locking the door behind them as Phillip and Aurora joined their daughters on (y/n)’s bed “we love you, sweetheart, don't you ever forget that.” Aurora whispered, kissing (y/n)’s forehead and hugging her tight, Phillip sitting behind Audrey’s head and running his fingers through (y/n)’s hair.

(y/n) was surrounded by her loved ones as she fell asleep, her eyes fluttering closed as the clock hit midnight and her breathing evened out; her entire body going slack. Audrey pressed her face against (y/n)’s shoulder, holding back a sob. Phillip tested (y/n) to make sure she was within the curse sleep, pinching her cheek gently and attempting to wake her up. To no avail, the curse had taken over and his youngest daughter would be asleep until her true love was found.

“How do we even find them? Her true love?” Aurora sobbed as she sunk to the edge of the bed, desperately grasping her sleeping daughter's hand, the other intertwined with Audrey’s. “It was by pure chance we met that day Phillip, (y/n) hasn’t even met anyone she’s felt that connection with.” Phillip sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, staring off into space “I don’t know my love” Phillip whispered, leaning down to kiss (y/n)’s head before standing and walking around the bed to sit next to his beloved wife. “I don’t know…”

Hours later, the three good fairies arrived, all mourning the, hopefully temporary, loss of their dear goddaughter/great-niece. In their kindness and hope, they blessed the young princess with a new ability; to dream walk. Within her dreams, she could connect with her true love, her soulmate. They weren’t sure if it would work, but they would have to hope.

Harry was 17 when the dreams started. It was the night of the princess of Auroria’s birthday, he didn’t even think to connect the two events. He went to bed like normal, far past midnight and dead tired from the day he had. He didn’t expect to be-transported?- to some sort of dream realm; surrounded by lush, soft, grass, a comfortable sun blocked by a sturdy and full tree, and it almost seemed like the clouds were close enough to touch.

“Wha-is-“ Harry stopped midsentence, unable to comprehend what was happening. “Woah” he whispered, standing and spinning on his heels, stepping out of the shade from the tree and holding his hand in front of his eyes, blocking the sun from blinding him. “Where am I?” he heard a small squeak from behind him and he whirled around, eyes widening as he spotted a smaller form disappear from behind the tree. A girl.

“Oi, you!” Harry yelled, storming to the tree and attempting to see the girl, only for her to evade his eyes. “Hey! I’m-I’m tryin’ ta’ talk to ya’!” he reached out, catching the girl by her wrist, feeling a strong spark run up his arm and he suddenly released her “Ow” it didn’t hurt, but it was such an odd feeling that Harry just-said ‘ow’.

The girl gasped at his exclamation and spun around, her pretty eyes locking with his “oh-crap, did I hurt you?! Im so sorry!” Harry just stared at her, she definitely wasn’t an isle kid, not from how she was dressed. A soft off-shoulder top and sleep shorts, all too brand new looking to be from the isle. Plus they were blue and pink, not isle colors. “Where are we?” Harry asked, voice stern, her pretty eyes and heavenly voice wouldn’t throw him off.

The girl stuttered for a moment, and Harry could swear he had seen this girl before….wait a minute-“my-my dream realm? I suppose? I-I inherited my mother's curse and-um, well-“ the girl tried to explain, twiddling her fingers as Harry stared at her. She was Princess (y/n), daughter of Aurora; the girl rumored to have the same curse her mother did, the curse of eternal sleep. “Yer tha’ princess, ain’t yeh?” Harry said, interrupting her explanations, which were being heavily stuttered out and fumbled over.

(y/n) slowly nodded, holding her hands in front of her pelvis, her cheeks just slightly flushed. “Cool, wha’ tha’ fuck does this gotta do wit’ meh?” Harry snapped, curling his lip a bit as (y/n) flinched back just slightly. He grimaced, shit-for once he didn’t mean to scare her. Harry took a deep breath, rubbing his face, just realizing he was wearing the clothes he had worn to bed, a simple long sleeve and some sweatpants. His gloves and hook were nowhere in sight.

“Um-well…my-my fairy godmothers, the three good fairies…I assume you know them?” Harry nodded at (y/n)’s guess, and she continued “Well, they uh-helped out? You know how my mother's curse was broken?” Harry nodded again “Okay-um, well, i-don’t think? I ever found my true love before my birthday, which is today-” Harry muttered out a small ‘happy birthday’ and (y/n) smiled, sending flutters through Harry’s body ‘stop it brain, not funny’ Harry scolded himself, but he continued to listen to (y/n)’s explanation “-thank you-And well, I can't exactly look for or meet my true love while asleep so…my godmothers kinda edited my curse to let me…..meetmytruelovewithinmydreams” (y/n) was fully embarrassed now, this boy, this-very very pretty boy, she had just met within her dreams, was her true love; her soul mate. And she just admitted that to him!

Harry took a moment to realize what she had said, then his entire body started to heat up. “you-me-us-wha’?” Harry’s voice cracked as he spoke, pointing between (y/n) and himself, thanks to his lil’ sister, he had learned how to decipher fast talk easily, so he heard every word. (y/n) nodded, burying her face in her hands “I didn’t expect it to be so soon! I’m sorry! You’re probably disappointed or-or…I don’t know, you probably had plans different than being the soulmate of a cursed princess” (y/n) muttered, looking up to see Harry…well basically blue screening. “um-are-are you okay?….” (y/n) realized she didn’t know his name. “um-“

Before she could ask, Harry started to babble, in a very thick Scottish accent. “Ye? an' me? that-eem a villain! villains dornt hae true loves! this-fuck-fuck fuck fuck!” the boy paced back and forth in front of her, moving about to round the tree. “FUCK” (y/n) stepped back, suddenly fearful of Harry, he seemed…not all there? If that was the right word, and…now she could easily say he wasn’t of Auradon, or at least not of the main states.

Wait did-did he say villain? “You’re from the isle?” (y/n) asked, tilting her head, suddenly more curious than scared. Harry turned on her, eyes flashing just slightly. His lip curled “Ye got a problem wi' 'at?” (y/n) shook her head! “Not at all! You guys are just kids, like me, who were forced to pay for your parent's crimes! I wholeheartedly agreed, and still agree, with Ben’s plan to bring you guys to Auradon. You deserve to not be judged for what your parents did” Harry stared at (y/n) in awe, then he perked his brow “'en wa did ye soond surprised?” Harry asked, crossing his arms, smirking as (y/n) tried to hide a devious smile “eh?”

“My grandmother is going to be so pissed and I for one cannot wait to see her implode” (y/n) said with a gentle, yet sinister, laugh. Harry tilted his head just so; this princess was not at all what he thought she was like. He was expecting some stuck-up priss who had never had a bad day in her life, yet….yet she was kind, empathetic, and had a tiny mean streak, even if it seemed to be aimed at her grandmother.

“Oh!” (y/n) gasped, tapping her fist into her palm, making Harry perk up “May I have your name?” (y/n) asked, and Harry tsked, waving his finger “ah ah~ Ah ken 'at fae jobby princess, ye mauna hae it but ye main ken it...H’arry, H’arry H’ook” (y/n) laughed, holding her cheeks with a bright smile “I didn’t mean it like that, but I get it. And it’s nice to meet you Harry, I think we’ll be seeing a lot of each other until…well until I wake up” (y/n) ended with a sad mutter, knowing Harry might not get off the isle for a while, and who knows if he could convince anyone to let him see her.

Harry hummed, reaching out and tipping up (y/n)’s face, a soft smile on his face “Nae weel make mah way tae ye princess, Ah tryst. an' pirates dornt break promises.” In just a few minutes of knowing (y/n), he had felt an intense protectiveness for her, must’ve been that true love shit the bore-a-don people always spewed. (y/n) smiled, and he grinned back, his dimples on full display. “you have a very pretty smile” (y/n) laughed, and Harry tilted his head, a bit embarrassed.

“Thank ye, you too” Harry whispered the last bit, releasing (y/n)’s chin and rubbing the back of his head. (y/n) laughed again, admiring his dimples and Lil fangs. “So,” (y/n) started, walking forward and past Harry, sitting under the shade of the tree, hands in her lap. “If we’re going to be in this little realm with each other for a long while, might as well get to know each other, right?” Harry nodded, walking over to (y/n) and sitting down across from her, running his hands through the soft grass.

“So,” (y/n) started again, pausing after a moment “…I have no idea how to start this” Harry laughed, loud and unafraid, letting himself relax in his apparent true love's presence. He lay down, hands behind his head “I'll start 'en, favorite colur?” (y/n) grinned, resting her chin on her intertwined fingers and leaning towards him “lilac and red! I wear blue the most though, red is a statement color for me but I’ve always loved how it looked, stole my dad's cloak all the time too” Harry glanced down at his crimson long sleeve and snorted.

“Mah main color is red, an' Ah wear it aw th' time.” Harry said, chuckling as (y/n) gasped, her hands going into her chest “That’s-…not a coincidence but-funny! Heh, my mom was blue slash pink and my dad was red, and now I’m the same, and you’re red!” Harry laughed, of course, everything had to parallel didn’t it?

They went back and forth through the rest of the dream, favorite foods(of what one of them had access to at least), drink, song, dance, style of shoe (they both liked boots), fashion sense, make-up preference, friends, family, anything they could talk about they did. And soon the sun got brighter until it nearly bled the realm out of existence “I think you’re waking up” (y/n) said, knowing she wouldn’t, and would be left alone till Harry fell asleep again.

Harry sat up, taking (y/n)’s hand “Nae weel be back tha' moorns nicht necht hen, Ah tryst. dornt ‘hink Ah got a choice anyways.” Harry snorted, and (y/n) looked just a bit comforted. At least she would have Harry to save her sanity. Her mother always said the sleep felt like a void, floating there; hearing and feeling everything around her, but unable to do anything, until Phillip came to the rescue.

Now she had something to look forward to, her true love visiting her in their dreams. Harry smiled again, the world around him getting so bright he had to close his eyes, and when he opened them, he was back in his bed, drool soaking his pillow and feeling well-rested for the first time in years.

“Holy fuck” Harry grunted as he sat up, yawning and cracking his neck as he stretched. He looked down at his hands, then looked out the porthole to see Auradon. "Ah cannae believe aam sayin' thes...but nae weel sae ye princess, Ah tryst” He sat there for a good minute before finally getting up and getting dressed, going out into the isle as the sun started to rise on the horizon. He debated telling someone about the princess, his first thought was Harriet, his sister; he decided he was going to, but not yet.

His second thought was Uma, his oldest and greatest friend. He knew he could trust her with this, so he ventured off towards the chip shop. He hopped up the steps and pushed open the saloon-style doors, looking around for the teal-haired girl. He jogged up to her as he saw her setting up one of the tables, it was just minutes before opening. He grabbed the crook of her elbow and dragged her towards the stairs that led to her upstairs bedroom. “Harry-what the hell! I’m trying to open!” Uma whisper-yelled, not wanting to wake her mom up. Harry shushed her, pulling her into her room and locking the door behind him “Har-“ he covered her mouth and Uma stared at him in shock, pushing his hand away angrily “How fucking dar-“ he made a small hand motion, telling her to quiet down so he could speak, Uma seethed, “Harry-“ Harry shushed her, pouting as she shoved his hand down “don’t you-don’t shush me!” Harry sighed, rubbing his face “I’m tryn’ ta’ tell ye somethin’ Uma, just-lemme-okay that ain't funny” Uma started to mock his previous shushing motions and noises, smirking as Harry groaned.

“Okay, okay” Uma chuckled, crossing her arms and leaning back on her heel “what did you want to tell me?” Harry took a deep breath, trying to figure out what to tell her. “um-well. Ye-uh?” Harry pursed his lips, rubbing the back of his head. how the fuck was he going to explain this? “Harry?” Uma made a motion for him to hurry it along, twirling her wrist around as Harry puffed his cheeks and tapped his foot. “come on, I gotta get to work.”

“Okay-I’ll just get to tha’ point. Yeh have ta’ believe me okay? I swear to the gods im not lying” Harry stared right into her eyes, and Uma took a step back. Oh shit, he was serious. “i-yeah. I gotcha-Harry, is something wrong?” Uma asked, now worried but Harry just shook his head. “no-no I’m fine. It’s um…so yeh know tha’ princess? Beauty’s youngest right?” Uma nodded slowly “well um-….fuck okay, she was in me dream last night” Uma snorted, really, he was all worked up over a lil princess crush? Even Mal had one on some princess she forgot the name of a few years back. “and?” Uma teased, her smile dropping as Harry just frowned at her “Uma, I mean-I was in her dream, after she feel into tha’ curse. We met-once upon a fuckin’ dream. Uma. She was fully aware of everything. I was aware of everything. It wasn’t a dream; it was some sort of separate realm where she could talk ta’ me….ye’ realize what that means righ’?” Uma just stared, yes she knew exactly what that mean.

“you’re her true love” Uma whispered, her hand against her cheek in awe and shock. Being the daughter of a sea witch/goddess meant Uma had a lot of knowledge of magic, nearly every type. Ursula was a bad mom but she wasn’t a bad teacher. So she knew exactly what Harry meant about being in a shared dream. “a princess and a pirate….oh my god, that girls gonna be asleep for a while” Harry pouted, crossing his arms; but relieved Uma didn’t react badly.

“What am I gon’na do?” Harry asked, a pit setting in his chest as he realized, he had no way to get to you. Yes, he was a villain, but. Fuck. You were already so dear to him after only one dream. Fuck fuck fuck! Uma just stared at him, then sighed; reaching out and patting his shoulder “I don’t know Har, but whenever we bust outta here, I’ll lie about you’re whereabouts” she teased and Harry smacked at her, continuing to do so as she turned and ran out of her room. “okay okay! now help me open!” Harry sighed, getting one last bap on the top of Uma’s head and setting his hook on the long table in front of the kitchen, grabbing sets of chairs off the tables and helping Uma finish opening the chip shop.

Harry slowly blinked as he once again ‘woke up’ to (y/n)’s dream world, sitting up to see her, laying against the tree; humming something under her breath. He liked her voice, it was pretty. He stood, making his way under the shade of the tree and plopping down next to her. “Harry!” (y/n) gasped as she realized his arrival, looking as if she wanted to hug him but didn’t want to push his boundaries “you’re back!” Harry smiled, leaning against the tree and nodding “Aye, told ye’ I would be, did ye really doubt me?” Harry said softly, tilting his head as (y/n) shuffled around on her knees to face him.

“i-I didn’t know if this was a lasting thing actually” (y/n) said with a nervous chuckle, twiddling with her fingers as Harry got a good look at her. Tonight she was wearing something different, a simple t-shirt and calf-cut sleep pants. Either she could change what she wore within the dream or someone changed her in the real world. He didn’t bother to ask though, that was probably a bit…personal. (y/n) continued to babble about the dream-realm spell and Harry absentmindedly listened, resting his elbow on his knee and then his chin in his palm.

“(y/n)?” Harry suddenly said, and she turned to him, tilting her head just so “Ah dunnae kinn ‘ow lon’g it’ll be before I get off the isle…if ever.” Her smile dropped a bit, and then she shrugged “that’s okay, I’ll wait for eternity for you…oh my gosh that sounded so-ah! I’m sorry! that might’ve been too soon; I mean-we’ve only known each other for like-a day! And im talking about you, to you, like that!” (y/n) squeaked, her face blazing as she patted her cheeks, squishing her lips between her palms.

Harry just smiled, reaching towards her and curling a loose bit of her hair around his finger “nae, is sweet, we are connected after all. Is only natural yer already feelin’ like this, I mean-yer parents did the same eh? Though in like-five minutes, we’ve had a day…well night; not that that’s any better honestly, but eh, true love n all that fairy tale shit.” Harry chuckled. (y/n) sighed, carefully taking Harry’s hand and uncurling the strand of curly hair from his finger. “thank you,” she whispered, smiling sweetly at him “thank you.”

He laughed softly through his nose, curling his fingers around hers and kissing her knuckles “yer welcome princess”

Nearly three years, three years of dreams; Of getting to know princess (y/n) Briar Fabel. Three years of Harry steadily, and genuinely, falling for her. For her sweet voice, her kind heart, her soft smiles, the crinkle in her eyes when she laughed, her enthusiasm in her voice when she spoke, the passion she held for her family, the seemingly infinite love she held in her wee heart.

Fuck. He was a pirate, son of the cruel and heartless Captain James Hook, first mate of Uma, the boy who had sworn he would never fall in love. Had fallen in love, and hard; for the sweet princess in Auradon, who waited for him to find her, and wake her up. And he promised he would, no matter how long it took.

Finally, he got that chance. Two years and three months later, after the dreams started; Mal and her gang had returned to the isle for some reason or the other, he had vaguely heard something on the tv about some sort of sleeping spell. But he didn’t know how dire the situation was until Carlos told Uma who was behind the new spell. “Cast by Audrey, sleeping beauty’s daughter” He grumbled out, eyes locked onto the ember held tight in Uma’s hand. Uma pursed her lips, glancing back at Harry. (y/n)’s sister had caused all this?

“so the good guys, the bad guy?” Uma chuckled, fiddling with the ember in her fingers, tilting her head as a devious thought came to mind “I might not give it back…see what happens” Harry licked his lips nervously, he knew what Uma was playing, she was trying to make Mal, make a deal. The ember for the isle kids freedom. And he hoped to the gods it worked.

When Mal didn’t agree, Uma held it over the water, threatening to take Mal’s one shot of saving Auradon away with just a singular action. Mal panicked, holding out her hands and telling Uma she had a deal. Uma smiled, sticking her tongue into the side of her cheek as Mal demanded the ember once again. “Nah” Uma chuckled, sticking the ember into her shell and crossing her arms, tilting her head dangerously at Mal who seethed, “I think I’ll keep it, for now. Because if you think I trust your ass to save Auradon? By yourself? Think again.” Uma turned on her heel, winking at Harry. And Harry smirked back, he knew what she was doing. Keep the ember, find (y/n); leave Auradon to rot after freeing the isle.

But things didn’t turn out that way, as the villain kids traveled through Auradon city in search of Audrey, then Ben, then Audrey again. He found himself wanting to stay, because; hey, if (y/n) lived here and liked it, it couldn't be all bad right? But….But then Mal revealed everything. Her lies, her betrayal, the plan. No kid would ever leave the isle again, no one would go in or out. Not even the barges. No food, no trash, no Auradon leftovers.

Mal had betrayed the isle, the kids still there. Just to protect her prissy, prim perfect life there. Without even thinking about what could happen in turn. He and Uma left, abandoning the girl who had taken their trust and crushed it in her fingers the second they turned their backs.

She didn’t deserve their help, she never had. Not when she had never learned her damn lesson about being good. Mal called after Uma, barely even trying to make Uma stay, or beg for her help. Just pitiful tears and pathetic cries. “Uma” Harry rasped out, his voice trapped in his throat, a pit setting into his gut “what…what about” he couldn't even finish his sentence. Uma stopped for a moment, looking up at him “do-do you know where she is?” Uma asked, her head tilting just so.

Harry pressed his lips together, in all those dreams together, he had never thought to ask about where she was. “i-fuck” Harry cursed, feeling tears burning in his eyes as he hit his forehead with the palm of his hand “fuck! FUCK!” (y/n) was going to be trapped forever, in a cursed sleep, under the rule of her now evil sister. “she-fuck-she might be in ‘er parents castle? But I have no idea where tha’ is!”

Unbeknownst to them, Audrey stood above them in the spires of her family's castle, eyes narrowing as she felt an odd….magic, coming from him. it wasn’t his, but more-something else letting her know he had a connection to something. The scepter glowed in her hand and her eyes widened. Wait a minute, wait a fucking minute! She knew that magic! It was the same magic that saved her mother and sister, it was the connection between the cursed and their true love.

This pirate was her sister's true love. Audrey’s mouth went dry, the scepter in her hand flickering out for a moment. Should she risk her victory for her little sister? Who had been asleep for the last two years? The one she missed so dearly? For just a moment, Audrey nearly dropped the scepter, then something took over again, her eyes flashing with a vivid green.

No. she wouldn't let her victory, what she deserved; slip from her fingers just for some-sleeping girl. Audrey glared down at the two pirates, watching as Mal came running up behind them in tears, Audrey smirked; ohh Mal’s cries when Audrey had turned Mal’s friends to stone had been so, delicious, a fitting revenge for stealing Audrey’s friends and boyfriend two years ago.

She couldn’t help but laugh as the pirates just, walked off. Not caring at all for Mal’s pitiful pleads. Audrey glanced back at the young vk she had kidnapped to help her take Mal down another peg and tugged the girl into her arms. She sent lightning into the sky, Celia screaming form the sudden noise reverberating in her ears. “Celia!?” Mal called out, recognizing her voice “Mal!” Celia sobbed out, truly terrified for the first time in years. Uma heard Celia’s cry and turned, she wasn’t going to let a vk get hurt because of Mal’s stupidity, not on her watch. Harry followed close behind, grabbing Uma’s arm and stopping her from getting blasted by a stray bolt of lightning. “shit-thanks” Uma breathed, patting his arm and running into the fray, watching as dragon Mal helplessly tried to match Audrey’s attacks, but her weakened magic was no match for Audrey’s command of the scepter. “she doesn’t stand a chance on her own” Uma muttered, the dew from the grass below her swirling up and around, Harry took several steps back; watching in awe as Uma summoned lightning from the sky, more powerful than Audrey’s, and struck right next to Audrey, making her release Celia in shock and the young vk stumbled away and off the spire she had been held captive on.

“shit-Celia!” Uma screamed, Harry already bolting towards the falling girl, and with Uma’s help; he was able to catch her safely, pulling her away from the intense battle the three girls had begun. Fire, lightning, and blasts of magic; all created a horrific battle the pirate and Ceila had to dodge multiple times to not get hurt. But finally, after Uma trapped Audrey within a bubble, and Mal had dropped the still dull ember; they defeated her. Audrey screamed as Mal commanded the scepter to her, the scepter having no choice but to listen to its bloodline and ripping away from Audrey’s hand “im sorry Audrey but this Is for your own good!” Mal yelled, twirling the scepter in her hands, which was trying to corrupt Mal’s mind in the moments it sat there, and slammed it into the ground; breaking the dragon's eye and sending a shockwave that blasted everyone back.

Harry held tight to Celia, groaning as he hit the grass with a loud *thump*. “ow” he rasped out, letting Celia go as she pushed out of his arms and ran towards Uma, who was rubbing the back of her head where it smacked on a piece of the stone wall. Mal stumbled to her feet, limping over to the knocked-out princess “Audrey?” Mal whispered, cupping Audrey’s cheeks and shaking her slightly “Audrey? Fuck-oh shit” Mal ruffled her hair, staring down at Audrey in terror “fuck-“ Uma stood, striding over to Mal and staring down at her, arms crossed “What’s wrong?” Uma asked, the only concern in her voice was for Audrey. Mal looked up at her, panicked tears in her eyes “breaking the scepter rebounded the spells on Audrey-the sleeping spell she cast-I can’t wake her up”

Uma hummed, glancing back at Harry who was slowly making his way toward the girls “welp…. that's fucked” Mal grumbled, curling into herself. Suddenly she looked up, seeing three small lights flying towards them “oh-shit” Mal cursed, standing on wobbly legs “it's the fairies” Harry’s head snapped up, eyes locked onto the multi-colored lights. The three good fairies transformed into sparkles which formed into their larger humanoid forms “oh goodness gracious!” the red fairy, Flora, if he remembered correctly, gasped; rushing towards the sleeping Audrey “oh that wicked Maleficent, of course she would trap her scepter”

As Flora talked with Mal about removing the sudden curse, Harry squirmed as he noticed Fauna and Merryweather staring at him, both with wide eyes of realization. “you~!” Fauna gasped, flying right into Harry’s face, wand held tightly in her hand “you! You, you, you!” Uma immediately understood what Fauna meant, while Mal and Celia looked very confused. Flora turned, brows raised in slight confusion and annoyance “Fauna! We-oh my goodness!” Harry stood pin-straight as Fauna and Merryweather examined every bit of him, pulling at his clothes and poking his hair “oh you two-stop it! Come come, she is just inside!”

Harry felt his heart skip a beat, and before he could even speak; Uma pushed him towards the castle. “Go you idiot! She’s been waiting long enough!” without another word Harry bolted off towards the castle, leaving a very confused Mal and Celia; to which Uma and flora explained the situation, Fauna and Merryweather leading Harry through the castle courtyard and into the main hall; up several sets of stairs, and through three long hallways. Until he was in front of a beautifully decorated door, (y/n)’s name inscribed in the gold plating on the front of the dark oak wood.

“Go on” Fauna whispered, laying a gentle hand on Harry’s shoulder “go on” Merryweather looked up at him expectantly and Harry took a deep, shaky, breath; pushing open the heavy doors and stopping again as he saw (y/n)’s form laying on the bed just a few feet away from him.

He slowly walked up to her, the two fairies staying back in the doorway to give the two a moment of privacy. “Princess” Harry whispered, sitting at her side, setting his hook on the nightstand next to the bed and reaching up to gently caress her face; just as he had done so many times within their dreams. Her lashes rested gently against her cheeks, her breath even and steady; her room seemed to be all too still. Almost as if was charmed to never age, or at least not go to ruin while (y/n) was asleep.

Harry took a deep breath, carefully leaning down with his heart beating out his chest, pressing his lips to (y/n)’s impossibly soft ones; he felt a wave of pulsing magic explode from where he and (y/n) connected. He pulled back, watching as (y/n)’s eyes fluttered open, the still feeling in the room evaporating as she did, it was almost as if the entire castle came back to life “Harry” (y/n) whispered, a blinding smile on her lips as she looked up at him.

“(y/n)” Harry whispered back with a raspy chuckle, letting out a huff as (y/n) grabbed the lapels of his jacket and weakly tugged him down, hugging as tightly as she could “you’re here” she sobbed, laughing as Harry flicked her forehead. “Was there ever any doubt? I told ya, ye’ can trust me” he gently picked her up, moving her body to sit in his lap, his arms around her waist as she cuddled into his shoulder; weak from her two years of sleep. “if I have to be honest; the barrier gave me pause” (y/n) said, it seemed all too good to be true. Harry laughed, loud and unafraid “well, I’m ‘ere princess, and I ain't leavin”

Harry stood, carrying (y/n) from her bed to the two fairies, who were celebrating silently until they locked eyes with their princess “(y/n)!” Merryweather cried, flying up and cupping the princess’ face “oh my dear, we’ve all missed you so!” (y/n) smiled back, taking one hand from around Harry’s neck and hugging her beloved aunt/fairy godmother. “and I you” (y/n) whispered back, getting comfortable in Harry’s arms as he carried her out of her room, through the halls, down the stairs, back out the main hall and courtyard, until he reached the others; Aurora and Phillip leaning over Audrey.

“my baby, my sweet baby, now both-…both” Aurora slowly looked up, realizing there was a new person among them, eyes widening as she saw her now awake daughter, slapping Phillip’s arm until he looked up “Phil-Phillip-look look! (y/n)!” Harry walked towards the two royals, handing Phillip his once sleeping daughter and stepping back, smiling as (y/n) cried out, tears running down her face as she hugged her parents for the first time since her 16th birthday.

“Audrey?” (y/n) gasped, pushing out of her dad's arms, yelping as her legs gave out from under her, Harry easily catching her thanks to his lightning-quick reflexes. Phillip and Aurora smiled at each other, yes, yes Harry was good for her; they could already see. “What happened?” “She was still pissed ‘bout dragon bitch n Beasty” Harry grumbled, taking (y/n) back into his arms and arranging her to be able to keep her eyes on Audrey “took the scepter, cast a spell or two, and when she was defeated her spells rebounded; we don’ know how ta’ wake er’” Harry watched sadly as (y/n) frowned deeply; (y/n) loved her big sister, with her whole being. (y/n)’s face crumbled and she pushed her face into his shoulder. One princess had awoken, but another had been sent to sleep.

What were they going to do?

With a few emergency restoration spells, some proper food and water, (y/n) was up and about, pacing Audrey's room as the vks, her parents, the three good fairies, and Ben stood around; all wondering what to do to save Audrey’s life. The rebounding spells hadn’t just sent Audrey to sleep, they had latched onto her soul and were slowly draining her of life.

If they didn’t act soon, they would lose her.

The fairies had tried everything to remove the spells, nothing, Phillip, Aurora, and (y/n) had all tried true loves kiss, nothing, Mal and Uma had reignited the ember and attempted to pull the spells right out. Nothing. only someone with immense knowledge of souls, and more power than Maleficent, could save Audrey.

“There's only one person in the world, that could possibly save Audrey…and that’s…Hades” Mal muttered, not wanting his help but she would have to suck it up to fix her mistakes. Ben jumped at that, staring wide-eyed at Mal “Hades? No. no I’m not risking that, we all know he’s an opportunist, as soon as he gets the chance he’ll turn.” Mal just stared back, she didn’t trust him either, not as far as she could throw him. but… “if we don’t try, Audrey will die” Mal croaked, the weight of the situation finally falling upon her shoulders pushing her down with unyielding guilt. She had been the cause of this entire mess, just because she couldn't suck it up, realize what she had done, and apologize.

Audrey was at death’s door because of Mal, and Mal was going to do whatever it took to save her life. Ben and Mal held a small staring contest before Phillip spoke up, holding Audrey’s limp and slowly growing cold hand. “We don’t have a choice your highness” Phillip sighed, standing and walking over to (y/n), holding her by the shoulders and stopping her pacing “we will not lose a daughter, not after we just one back. So call up your guards, use our guards, anything; to keep Hades from escaping, and save our daughter…it’s the least you could do” Ben winced, he knew that was a pot shot at him never apologize to Audrey for breaking up with her so rudely, yeah he had been spelled but-he could’ve easily explained and apologized afterward.

Ben sighed, and nodded “I’ll send guards at dawn. Make use of those old magic blocking cuffs to be safe.” Mal slowly nodded, magic blocking cuffs? That must’ve been how beast got the still living villains onto the isle. “it might not be as much of a risk” she finally said, slowly standing from Aurora’s side and biting her lip “he’s uh…he’s my dad…” Even Evie looked surprised, but-it made sense. Only Hades blood could’ve used the ember. “I don’t care for him, and I never will but…he gave me the ember willingly, so…I don’t know. We might be able to use that?” Mal muttered, almost like a question. She didn’t want to see him again but, for Audrey; she would have to.

Ben nodded again, pinching the bridge of his nose “i-…okay, I’ll…I’ll send guards first thing in the morning” Ben said again, turning as Uma spoke up “Maybe I can hitch a ride” she muttered, everyone looking to her in shock. “the isle is my home, someone needs to be there to protect it and the kids” she looked right at Mal for this, and Mal just bowed her head in shame; knowing what she had chosen was wrong.

Harry glanced at (y/n), still buried in her father's arms, and stood “well, ye’ will need ya’ first mate.” He rested his arms on Uma’s shoulders, smiling down at her as she looked up at him, confused but grateful, then she looked at (y/n), furrowing her brows at her heartbroken face “No, you’re not coming back with me” Uma said sternly, stepping away from Harry with a sad smile on her lips. “you’ve got your princess here; I won't let you throw that away for me. And nothing you say can convince me.” Uma walked out of the room at that, Harry stood there in shock, staring after his oldest friend for a moment before he stumbled after her, (y/n) following him after Phillip let her go.

Everyone watched them leave, Ben turning to Celia as she stood. “Uma! Uma please-wait!” Harry called out, following Uma through the confusing halls and out into the courtyard, where she finally stopped and sat at the main fountain. “Uma please, we’ve known each other fer wha’? our entire lives? Ye really think I can just-leave yeh on the isle like that? Alone? No, I won’t-i.fuck I know I jus’ found (y/n) an…fuck, but. You…” his voice cracked, tears burning at his eyes as (y/n) appeared behind him, staying back to give the two a moment of privacy. “I can't leave ye Uma, yer me family, Gil is me family, of course, I want (y/n) ta be a part of it but….i-…I can’t let you go knowin-knowin’“ his voice broke again, and (y/n) came up behind him, holding his waist tightly, her cheek pressed against his back.

Uma wiped her tears away and stood, joining the hug and sniffing as Harry hugged back tightly “I can’t let ye go back without me, I just can’t” he whispered, his cheek pressing into Uma’s hair. She nodded against his chest and pushed back, turning him to face (y/n). he gasped out her name and she smiled, that kind, unwavering kind, smile “I know, I get it. I’ve waited this long, what's waiting a bit longer, at least now I don’t have to be alone when you’re not awake” (y/n) said with an easy tone, and Harry wanted to cry, but he didn’t; he took her by the jaw and neck, and kissed her, a tearful passionate kiss that Uma looked away from to let them have their moment.

“I love yeh (y/n), I fuckin fell fer ye so hard, I’m sorry I’m leavin’ ye so soon,” Harry said as he pulled away, curling his arms around his true love and holding her tight. she held him back, her face in the crook of his neck “I know, I love you too, so much. Thank you for being kind to me, and finding me.” They stood there for a moment longer before their attention was diverted to the three good fairies, all landing in front of the soon-to-be-separated true loves.

“we assume you’re going back to the isle” Flora said sadly, bowing her head slightly as Harry nodded “we understand, then allow us to bestow upon you this gift.” Harry perked his brow and looked at (y/n), who looked just as confused as he felt “two years ago we gave (y/n) the ability to find her true love within her curse, and now we give you both the gift to continue that, no matter how far you go, what barrier you’re behind, you will always find each other in the dead of night, within your dreams.” The three fairies waved their wands, and multicolored sparkles swirled around Harry and (y/n), disappearing a moment later “until the day you meet again.”

(y/n) stared at her fairy godmothers, then looked at Harry; who stood in complete shock and awe. “thank you” (y/n) sobbed, bringing the three into a strong hug “thank you so much” “anything for you my dear, just the same as your parents and sister” Merryweather said with tears in her eyes, patting (y/n)’s shoulder. (y/n) laughed, pulling back and holding out her hands to Harry “might as well spend some time together before you leave eh?”

Harry softly smiled and nodded, taking her hands and following her as she pulled him away towards the gardens, leaving the good fairies and Uma behind; for now.

After Harry left, everything felt…numb, (y/n) didn’t even realize she was back in her sister's room with the rest of her family, minus her grandmother; for when they, her parents, had found out about her (Leah) basically abusing their daughter over someone else's choices, they had disowned her and banished her from their castle. Something (y/n) was extremely relieved about, grammie mostly left her alone in favor of Audrey, the oldest, but she was still cruel to (y/n) over the simplest things.

But never mind that, there were more important things, like Hades waking up her sister...hopefully. The royal guard and (y/n)’s family's knights entered the room with the old god of the dead, his yellow beady eyes scanning the room for any escape or threats.

She mostly ignored his rant of ‘good and evil’, keeping her eyes on her older sister, her body getting colder by the minute “I know we have some personal issues to sort out, but can that shit-” her parents looked surprised by the curse slipping through her lips, but hanging around a pirate for the last two years didn’t not make her swear “-wait until after my sister’s life isn’t in danger? Please~?” Hades stared at the girl, then snorted.

“I like her” he muttered to Mal, who smirked and then pulled him in front of Audrey’s bed. He held up his hands, brushing away mal as she attempted to give him the ember “that’s just a condensed version of my powers, don’t need it” and with a wave of his hand, and glow of his eyes, Audrey awoke with a gasp, her body temperature rising as the spells were pulled off her soul. “There we go, good as new” Hades said with a smirk, pouting as the guards rounded behind him; preparing to take him back to the isle “Ah, right.” The royal guards led Hades out of the room, and Mal stared after him for a moment before turning back to Audrey.

“Audrey?” Mal said in a soft voice, stepping closer to the bed as Audrey held her parents close, having yet to realize her sister was present. Audrey looked up at Mal, looking very ashamed “i-I have owned you an apology, for so damn long.” Audrey looked confused, Mal didn’t make Audrey take the scepter, but she let Mal go on “So-I’m sorry. For everything, for Ben, for my actions, for never realizing just how hurt you were. I’m sorry” Mal ended in a whisper, holding back tears; she didn’t deserve to cry.

Audrey laughed, watery and broken “that’s all I wanted to hear” Audrey sobbed, climbing out of her parent's arms and throwing herself at Mal, who hugged back just as tightly “we might never be friends, but hope we’re never enemies again” Mal croaked out, Ben watching with a smile from behind her. He had his apologies due as well, but he would let the girls have their moment “and I have something even better than me apologizing” Audrey pulled back, her brow raised before she turned, gasping as she finally saw you.

“(y/n)!” her voice cracked as she spoke, the two sisters slamming into each other as they sobbed. “you’re awake! Oh, thank the gods!” as the two abled away, Mal bowed to the royals and walked out with Ben, Ben making a strong mental note to properly apologize to Audrey later. “how?!” Audrey asked, pulling away from (y/n) and shaking her shoulders a bit. “what woke you up? Who?”

(y/n) chuckled, taking Audrey’s hands and holding them tight “actually, if it wasn’t for you taking the scepter, I might’ve not woken up for a while, harry hook, an isle kid, escaped when Mal and the others went to get the ember, and he came to find me when he did. So if you think about it, you taking the scepter, led to me waking up~!” Audrey let out a raspberry, of course (y/n) could make her feel better with just a single sentence, even if it implied her going evil was a good thing. “yeah yeah, come ‘ere” Audrey grumbled, pulling (y/n) back into a hug, their parents joining a moment later.

(y/n) felt a tear slip down her cheek, she had her family back but-her true love was across the sea, most likely never to step foot in Auradon ever again.

Harry was the first to be asleep this time, patiently waiting for (y/n) under the willow tree, curling a loose branch around his finger as he whistled with the calm wind. He looked up as he heard the grass shuffle around, a smile on his lips as he locked eyes with his true love “hi” he whispered, opening his arms as (y/n) plopped down next to him and slumped into his side. “hi” she whispered back, tired and clearly done with her day.

“bad day?” Harry asked, rubbing her shoulder gently, cheek pressed against her hair “my grandmother decided to make an appearance, when we told her she was banished from the grounds, she didn’t take it all too well” (y/n) grumbled, clearly not liking her little trip down memory lane. Harry pouted a bit, pushing back a bit of hair away from the crown of (y/n)’s head and kissing it “it’ll get better love, I’m sorry I can’t be there fer real”

(y/n) shrugged “it’s okay Harry, I understand why you had to go back, It doesn’t mean I don’t miss you but…I get it” she muttered, hiding her face into his shoulder, his arms completely wrapping around her body and holding her tight “I love yeh darlin’” Harry whispered, and (y/n) said it back in a small voice. “I love you too”

Honestly? (y/n) didn’t know why she was here, more so Audrey, Ben’s ex and the girl who had tried to take over the world because of her unresolved break up with him. yeah, she was technically possessed to do those things, but still? plus, (y/n) had only known Ben and Mal for maybe three months before she had been sent to sleep, so she really didn’t have a reason to be at their engagement party (which, she kinda thought was too soon, yes speaking as the daughter of Aurora and Phillip, who fell in love within two minutes. But hey they waited a bit longer to get married at least)

(y/n) mostly zoned out, simply going through the polite motions as Mal and Ben emerged and then went up into the plaza balcony. Ben toasted his fiancé, then she had a whole speech, something you only paid attention to when you heard Uma's name “without Uma and her pirates, Auradon would be gone!...and-and without Harry, Harry Hook, (y/n) would still be asleep” (y/n) looked up at her, brows furrowed in confusion. Mal looked right back down at her, a saddened smile on her lips, her eyes determined to make things right. “we are all capable of good and evil, what matters is who we choose to be; not what our parents, or who someone else tells us to be. We can never know what is truly going on in someone's mind; which is why-the fucking applications system is bullshit. It shouldn’t be up to us to-to pick and choose who we think is ‘good enough’ for Auradon. Because-every kid on the isle is good enough, they always have been. And I refuse to let some-stupid system waste away those kids.” She turned to Ben with a smile, and it was clear the two had talked about this over the past week.

“And-and that is why,” Mal said strongly, turning back to the crowd, eyes locked onto the barrier around the isle “we are going to open the barrier to those who chose to come to Auradon for a better life; anyone with ill intentions towards anything or anyone may not pass it but-anyone who wants to have their chance, will be free to come to Auradon anytime they want” Mal finished, smiling as the crowd burst into cheers “About damn time!” (y/n) yelled up at Mal, who laughed, carefully wiping away the tears in her eyes, gesturing for her friends to join her up on the balcony.

Mal took the wand from FG, and (y/n) turned, facing the isle, her heart beating out of her chest as Mal began the final incantation; to free the children of the isle “To all who want a proper chance,” Mal paused for a moment, and her friends joined her in the spell, the wand glowing brightly in Mal’s grip “your time has come, come out and dance!”

In a bright beam of light, the barrier seemed to shatter, the dark clouds blocking the sun dispersing as the clean ocean water flowed into the wharf. Harry, Uma, and Gil all slowly stepped out into the sunlight; every other villain kid gasping and laughing as they ran around in their first glimpse of sun “she did somethin’ righ’ fer once” Harry joked, smiling as Uma cackled, taking his arm and jumping around like a little kid. “my plan!” Uma laughed, turning on her heel and taking her boy’s hands, dragging them across the bridge that led to Auradon, hundreds of villain kids at their heels.

Harry perked up as he saw a shimmer of blue and pink, his eyes widening as he saw (y/n) “(y/n)!” Harry screamed out, separating from Uma and bolting towards her, his arms opening as she did the same “Harry!” (y/n) sobbed, slamming into him and almost knocking him over if he hadn’t spun around to keep his balance.

Audrey, Aurora, and Phillip smiled from the Auradon side of the bridge; Aurora cooing as (y/n) pulled Harry into a bruising kiss. “he’s going to be good for her, get her out of that shell mom tried to put her in” Aurora mumbled, hugging Phillip's arm as (y/n) dragged Harry towards them, a shy smile on his face. Phillip nodded in agreement, Audrey ran forward to meet her sister and Harry halfway, she had yet to thank him for saving her little sister. “come on, let’s go welcome him” Phillip said, Aurora picking up her dress gently and happily walking with Phillip to welcome Harry Hook to Auradon and their family.

-the end~-

ye~ kinda used the ‘dream realm’ thing from my prince behind the pirate commission series, but-i was watching sleeping beauty with my dad and got inspired to do a fic :3 also black (y/n) cuz black (y/n) is fucking queen. whenever i dont have a lil-this character is meant to be perceived as this!- (y/n) is totally blank, free to be perceived however yall like, black, white, Asian, Hispanic, Indian, anything! its an x reader, (y/n) is just-whoever you are :3

permtaglist!

@queer-cosette @sephiralorange @lunanight2012

@daughter-of-the-stars11 @musicarose @rintheemolion

@random-thoughts-003 @imtryingthisout @remembered-license

@thecaptainsgingersnap @verboetoperee @saryguerrero

@reallysparklychaos @thetrueghostqueen @dai-tsukki-desu

#disney descendants #harry hook x reader #harry hook descendants #black (y/n)#audreys sister reader #sleeping beauty #dream walking #true loves kiss

94 notes · View notes

joheunsaram · 3 years ago

Text

To Make A Power Couple - 10 (knj)

Chapter 10: good news/bad news

previous | masterlist | next

Summary- Almost two years into your relationship with Namjoon, everything seems to be going great... or is it?

word count- 10.8k

pairing- idol!namjoon x ceo!reader

rating- R

genre- series, idolau, fluff, smut, angst

warnings- a lot of things happening in this chapter, lot of friends sharing different news, a lot of talk about the future, caretaker!joon, smut in the forms of softestdom!joon, sub!reader, sensation play (ice), titty worship, oral sex (m and f receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, DADDY KINK (IKR?!?!! WHODVE THUNK?), unprotected sex, subdrop, crying, aftercare, mentions of anxiety and depression, I THINK THAT’S IT.

a.n- and so we get back into things. ive been procrastinating this chapter for ages because i just couldnt get some of the scenes exactly how i wanted them but finished is better than perfect! thank you so much for your patience and i hope you enjoy this new installment. i love you all!

A special thank you to @hobiandsprite and @oftenderweapons for their support throughout the planning and also thank you to @jimilter, @casuallyimagining, and bells for beta reading this for me! I would be putting out literal dumpster fires if it weren’t for them finessing my words.

As always feedback appreciated. Send me an ask! 💌

taglist - @beach-bitch-bitch-beach, @sscheherazadee, @rjsmochii , @jinjccns , @joyful-jimin @sideblogger @agustdpeach @diamonddia-mond, @asdfghjklqwertyv, @cheesecakes-randomshitz, @goldenjongho, @aroseforyoongi, @awhnamjoon, @butterflieswingsthings, @shyning-star, @stillwthyou

Jungkook: here

You watched Jungkook’s message pop up on your screen as you walked towards the elevator, excited for some good food after eating convenience store sushi in Tokyo for two days. Seokjin rarely had dinner parties and even more rarely did they involve going to a restaurant, especially one that was an hour outside of Seoul, but apparently they served the best steak in Korea. So even though you had no time to make it back to your apartment after your flight, you showered at the office and were dressed to the nines in a black dress, complete with heels, trailing your luggage behind you.

Jungkook got out of the car when he saw you, helping you load the bag in the back before opening the door for you and running to his side to get into the driver’s side.

“You know, one of these days, one of you has to learn how to drive,” he commented as he pulled out of the parking space, heading towards the highway. You laughed at his remark, rolling his eyes as you replied to Namjoon’s message to meet him at the venue.

“Why do we have to learn when you can be our personal chauffeur?” you retorted as he turned the radio on, some pop ballad playing through the speakers.

“I do have a life, you know,” he sang, matching the melody flowing through the car. “Plus, aren’t you both old enough to know how to drive?”

“I’m not Seokjin oppa, I will beat your ass for making fun of my age,” you said, lightly tapping his arm as he recoiled dramatically, wincing from the imaginary pain.

“You’re so mean, noona,” he whined, pouting at you as he stopped at a red light.

“Stop being dramatic,” you replied, before remembering a very important detail he had texted you about earlier. “So tell me again, where’s your super secret girlfriend?”

“Wow. Not even a hello and you jump straight into interrogation,” he said, turning onto the highway, the city fading away in the background as he left the bridge he was driving on behind, the water below you turning into sleek slate roads.

“I already said hello,” you waved. “Now, stop stalling! I’m starting to think she’s imaginary.”

“You think I made up a girlfriend?” he asked, incredulous. “Noona, have you seen me? I would never need to make up a girlfriend.” He smirked proudly.

“I swear if your head gets any bigger it’ll explode.”

“Mean! I’m totally humble!”

“You’re totally stalling, Kookie,” you hummed and he laughed in response, before biting his lip bashfully.

“Well, we met at work, and, I don’t know? She’s just great…”

If the last almost two years of dating Namjoon hadn’t made you close to Jungkook, you would’ve missed the way he ducked his head shyly. But you knew just by that one movement how whipped the man in front of you was.

On your drive, you learnt all about Jungkook’s new girlfriend, an assistant producer for one of the shows they had appeared on, recently. Apparently, her name was Areum and she was breathtakingly beautiful as well as the only person who he had dated who wanted to go skydiving with him. You shook your head at his comment, glad that Namjoon would never be into jumping out of planes. He told you about their first date where they went for coffee and talked for hours and you could feel how happy he was, glee radiating off him in waves. You couldn’t help smiling with him as he told you little anecdotes and mirrored his frown when he mentioned how she had to work overtime tonight and couldn’t meet for dinner.

“How do you and hyung do it?” he asked, following the GPS that asked him to make a right turn onto some unpaved country roads.

“Do what?”

“Manage your schedules. Both of yours are crazy!” he exclaimed.

“I don’t know. It’s a lot of texting,” you giggled. “When you love someone you make it work,” you added with a shrug.

“I hope Areum and I can get to where you guys are,” he said, reverant, with a shy smile that scrunched his nose, and you chuckled. If you ever doubted your relationship, all you had to do was look at Jungkook. You loved that he was your biggest fan. As odd as it may seem, it made you feel accepted into the Bangtan family. “Speaking of your man, I can’t believe Namjoon hyung waited for you outside,” he added, shocked as he pulled into the parking lot.

As if on cue, your eyes landed on Namjoon, dressed in a nice shirt and pants, the attire peeking through a large puffy coat he had left unzipped. As Jungkook and you put on some cloth face masks, he jogged up to the car, opening your door as soon as it was unlocked.

“Hi, baby. How was the flight?” he asked, hugging you as soon as you stepped out of the car, and you felt your heart warm as you wrapped your arms around him under his coat.

“Good,” you murmured against his chest as he hummed, hugging you tighter and swaying a little.

“Tired?” he asked and you shook your head.

“Hyung, I know we’re outside the city but save the PDA for inside,” Jungkook joked, laughing as he made his way into the restaurant. Namjoon pressed his masked lips to your forehead, trying to simulate a kiss, and you laughed as the two of you followed Jungkook to the restaurant.

The gathering was substantial, about twenty people or so. With the band and their managers and their various partners, the restaurant seemed full, despite it only hosting your party for the night. Chaotic would be an understatement for the room, loud with multiple conversations happening across the table. It was funny to you how it seemed as if all of you were at home, the waitstaff making minimal appearances as they left you all to your antics.

Bottles of wine were emptied as the night went on, and true to Seokjin’s word, the steak was some of the best you had ever had. The pieces even came with a family chart to certify the authenticity of the expensive meat. You felt a little bad eating something whose name was proudly printed on a little flag, but you’d be hard pressed to argue that it wasn’t absolutely delicious.

You had initially thought the dinner was a sort of farewell to the boys going away on another press run next month. However, two bottles of wine in and with a coy smile, Seokjin, showcasing his uniquely chaotic nature, was tapping an unused pair of chopsticks against the glass for attention, to reveal the real reason for the gathering.

He kissed his girlfriend’s cheek, before standing up once the room was silent.

“Friends, I have great news,” he began, his ears a bright red.

“If he says he’s handsome… I swear to god…” Namjoon whispered in your ear and you giggled, squeezing his hand in yours.

“I, Mister Worldwide Handsome,” he continued, only to be booed by the room, Yoongi going so far to toss a piece of lettuce at him, his cheeks a bright red from the alcohol and a mischievous smile on his face. Needless to say, he had booed the loudest.

“Fucking rude!” Seokjin grimaced. “As I was saying, Yoongi, I invited you all here tonight to celebrate something really special. Darling,” he said, turning to his girlfriend, gently holding her hand as she stood up. “We’re engaged!” he squealed, as she held up her exorbitant diamond ring.

The room became completely silent, everyone looking at the oldest member in surprise before erupting into a cacophony of cheers. People jumped from their seats to hug and congratulate Seokjin and his fiancee. The wait staff seemed to be in the know about the celebration, if the immediate presence of champagne flutes were anything to go by.

By the time dessert was finished and Namjoon and you got into the backseat of Jungkook’s car, your head was hazy with the alcohol, a goofy grin on your face. You leaned your head against your boyfriend as he put his arm around you, letting you cuddle into him. You felt sleepy from all the food, and you had missed Namjoon wrapped around you.

“I’ll wake you when we get home,” he said with a peck on your lips as he stroked your hair. He felt content, a little sleepy himself, soon dozing off, glad that Yoongi was keeping Jungkook company as he drove so as not to fully ignore his youngest friend.

He dreamed of proposing to you on one knee with the ring that had been hidden away in his studio for over six months.

You walked slowly into your bedroom after Jungkook dropped the two of you off, still half asleep as you stripped your dress and bra, opting to grab one of Namjoon’s shirts before dropping into bed, sighing as exhaustion took over.

Namjoon chuckled at your form in the middle of the bed, stripping to his boxers, his usual sleeping attire, picking up your clothes and heading to the bathroom to grab a makeup wipe. He smacked your ass lightly as he climbed on the bed, turning you around as you groaned. Your face tickled as he removed your makeup and you scrunched your nose, making Namjoon coo.

Leaning in, he kissed your nose. “There’s my pretty girl,” he exclaimed, smiling widely and you returned his grin, wrapping your arms around his neck. Pulling him to you, you kissed him, humming against his lips as he laid on top of you, his hands roaming under your shirt to hold onto your waist.

Without breaking the kiss, he moved you higher up the bed till your head was against the pillows. He deepened the kiss, his heart pounding as his tongue met yours and his hands found purchase on your chest. He had just started grinding on you, ready to devour you when you pushed him back.

“Raincheck?” you asked sheepishly, a hand on the side of his face. He whined a little, moving his face to nuzzle into your neck, nipping at the skin lightly.

“You sure? I can do all the work,” he replied, his hand moving under you to gently massage your ass as his lips continued their actions on your neck. You wanted to continue but the day had been so long, and the lack of sleep was making you feel as if your head was hazy, floating in space. You could feel his dick hard against you and although usually you would be begging for it, you kind of just wanted to sleep in your own bed with your boyfriend next to you.

You apologized and he cut you off with a light kiss, before moving off you and tucking you into his side, an arm under your head and the other pulling your leg over him before resting on your hip. “Don’t apologize. We can just sleep,” he said with a smile, his lips on your forehead.

“I love you.” You cuddled into him, relaxing in his scent, a reprieve from the overly bleached smell of hotel bed sheets.

“Love you too, baby,” he said, before continuing. “Can you believe hyung is getting married?”

“Right? It’s kinda crazy!” you exclaimed, looking up at him as he stroked your hair. He laughed at your comment.

“Why? Cause he still acts like he’s twelve?”

“Nah… Well, yes,” you giggled, running your fingers up his arm as he snuggled further into the pillows, moving his head a few times in an attempt to move a strand away from his eyes. You pushed the pesky hair away before speaking as he scrunched his nose in gratitude. “It’s ‘cause it’s hardly practical. right? Like what if someone leaks it? Or they get a divorce? We’re young, why settle down already?”

Namjoon’s smile fell at your words but you missed it, moving your head onto his chest, your fingers now trailing around his stomach. You hummed a little in the silence, unaware of how many questions were buzzing through your boyfriend’s head at your nonchalant dismissal of marriage. Had you always thought like this? Was Namjoon just imagining that you’d want a future with him as much as he wanted one with you?

“We’re not that young… We’re almost thirty,” he said tentatively, and you just shrugged.

“Yeah, but we’re so busy. What’s even the point of getting married already?”

“I don’t know. To be with each other? Do you not like marriage?” Namjoon knew he was a little snappy in his response, but he couldn’t help feeling a bit upset by your statement.

“I’m not against marriage… It’s just something for the future,” you replied, your sleepiness rendering you unable to read too much into his words and removing the filter from yours as you chuckled. “Don’t tell me you want to get married already!”

“I mean is that so crazy to want?” He brought his hand to your cheek, lifting your head to look at you. Although he was hurt by you brushing off the notion, he couldn’t help hoping that you were speaking from hypotheticals. The two of you had been together for almost two years, how could you not see how perfectly you fit together?

“It’s not,” you said, gazing into his eyes, confused by the sudden tension in his muscles as he stiffened in your embrace. “Just in the future, you know. You wanna marry me?”

“More than anything in the world,” he answered, determined. “I’ll marry you right now, if you ask me to.”

“Easy there, Joonie. We have time. Why rush it?”

“You wanna marry me?” he asked instead of answering.

“More than anything in the world,” you replied with the same determination as him. “But in the future. Is that okay?”

He softened a little at your sheepish tone, leaning in to kiss you. “In the future,” he agreed, leaning back as you hummed and closed your eyes, cuddling him.

He stroked your hair mindlessly, distracted by disappointment. He didn’t want to dwell on it, but he had planned to propose to you next month when he returned from the next bout of PR appearances in Japan. Maybe it was for the best you had discussed this. Better than being on one knee and hearing you say no.

He sighed, noting that you were already asleep, your hand that was caressing him still as you laid with your mouth open. Perhaps he didn’t need to label you as his wife yet. If you wanted to wait, he could wait for you. He’d always wait for you.

You heard Namjoon enter through the front door, his sigh loud as he dropped his things in the hallway. Looking up from your laptop on the couch, you saw him standing still for a while, a frown on his face as he seemed to be contemplating something. Before you could ask him what was wrong, he spoke.

“Can we cuddle?” His voice was soft, almost a whisper, as he moved towards you and the couch. “Please?”

Wordlessly, you put the laptop on the coffee table and stretched your arms out to him. He sighed in relief as he got on the couch, but instead of joining you in a hug he climbed behind you, adjusting himself to sit with you between his legs as his arms went around your waist.

“You can keep working. It’s okay.” He put your computer in your lap again before moving his arms back around your waist, hugging you tightly and nuzzling his head in your hair. He pressed his cheek against your shoulder as you placed one of your hands over his arms.

The whole day had been nothing but an endless array of disappointments. As always, whenever they had to go somewhere overseas, their team had sat Namjoon and the band down to go over every little thing, from schedules to style to things they needed to emphasize in the interviews. It was always the same and it always made his head spin. The overload of information was dizzying, and all he wanted was to fall asleep in your arms.

Not to mention the last meeting he had to sit in with his CEO. That was what was bothering him the most.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not yet… just need you.” He cuddled in further, letting out another content sigh as your scent engulfed him. Namjoon hated that he was being this needy but today was beyond frustrating for him, he was exhausted. Spending the whole day putting on a smile and being alert was tough on him. Although he was pretty extroverted, the past few days of filming and your weird dismissal of his non-proposal had taken a toll on him. He chuckled silently to himself at the fact that although his worries included you, you were the balm he needed for them.

“Do you know what I love about you?” he said after fifteen minutes of silence, alerting you to the fact that despite your suspicions, he was still awake.

“My ass?” you joked, turning a little in his grip to look at him as he rested his face against your shoulder. He scrunched his nose in annoyance at your question, before pulling back a little to look at you, his words flurried.

“No… I mean, yes, your ass is fantastic and I’m going to beg you till the end of time to let me fuck it, like fuck, baby do you know -”

“Joonie, you’re getting sidetracked,” you interrupted with a kiss on his cheek.

“Sorry,” he chuckled, settling back on your shoulder, his hands playing with yours on your lap. “I love that you don’t ask questions.”

“What?” you asked, a little defensive, considering that you thought you asked too many questions.

“No… I mean when I’m feeling needy and make demands like for you to cuddle me while you’re working, or for you to make me your noodles, you just do it, no questions asked. And I… I really appreciate you for that. For supporting me, even when I don’t have the energy to support myself.” He emphasized his point with a kiss on your cheek, his words making you a little flushed.

“Joon… I’ll always be here for you, whatever you need,” you said, turning on your side so your legs were on top of one of his on the couch. You hugged him, his head trapped under your chin on your chest as your arms wrapped around his neck.

“I know, and just… I love you. I love you a lot and thank you. Thank you for being here for me even when I’m a shit boyfriend,” he mumbled against your shirt, his arms squeezing you against him.

“You’re never a shit boyfriend, baby. And don’t thank me, this is why we’re together right? To be here for each other, for whatever we need.” You ran your fingers through his hair, massaging the scalp in a way that made him groan. He could feel his stress melting away at your touch, his body feeling like softened butter as he relaxed.

“So, if I said I need to fu-”

“Wow. You must be feeling better, I guess I can stop cuddling you.” You rolled your eyes, pretending to get off the couch. Before you could move, Namjoon’s arms tightened, pulling you even closer as he pleaded in your ear, his lips tickling your cheeks.

“No no no! Sorry. Please don’t leave. I’ll stop talking about how amazing your ass is.”

“I mean it is pretty great.”

“The greatest!” he proclaimed, before the two of you broke into giggles, relaxing against each other as your speakers played some calming instrumental music that you usually reserved for when you were working.

You hummed along as you continued to run your fingers through his hair, the longest it had been since you met him, the ashy grey strands still soft despite being dry from over-bleaching. The silence felt comforting, as if the two of you were bathing in it. It rolled over your bodies, relaxing your muscles as it cascaded around you, a content calm.

“I think I’m ready to talk,” Namjoon said after a while, not willing to move from where he was nestled in your embrace. He heaved a heavy sigh before continuing. “They gave us the dates for the next tour.”

“When is it?” You bit your lip, your heart starting to beat faster. You always hated being away from him. Although the two of you had a lot of practice with long distance, it never meant that it got any easier.

“End of this year. For three hundred and twenty days,” he replied, finally looking up at you with a frown that only deepened when he saw a matching one on your face.

“No breaks?”

“Some breaks. Short ones. I know it’s like half a year away but I’m sad. I don’t wanna leave you for so long,” he lamented, his voice breaking a little as the stress from the day caught up to him, his exhaustion manifesting as moisture in his eyes.

You placed your hand on his cheek, meeting his lips with yours, and he lost himself for a moment, his mind clearing as he relished in being in your arms.

“Hey. We’ll get through it. We’ll facetime, I’ll come to as many shows as I can. I’ll match when I’m in Japan and Canada with your tour. We can do it,” you spoke with conviction and Namjoon couldn’t help but feel a little pathetic at crying over something so routine. He hid his face in your neck, kissing the skin gently.

“I’ll miss you so much. I already miss you and you’re right here.”

“Baby it’s more than six months away. Stop overthinking,” you shushed him, pulling away from him a little to wipe his face, and he took the opportunity to kiss you, a slow sensual kiss shared only to feel each other, without the expectation of escalation.

“I know. I just want you close to me,” he murmured, his forehead against yours.

“If I was any closer I’d be literally under your skin,” you joked.

“Mmm I’d like that.” He kissed you again as you giggled at his antics

“Yeah you want me to get under your skin? Don’t I annoy you enough without you requesting it?” you said, pushing him away a little.

“Lame! Come closer,” he demanded playfully, wrapping you in his arms again as he swayed a little to the music, enjoying the quiet moment.

“Sleep time?” you asked after he yawned.

“You think you could piggy back me?” he joked, only to start flailing when you took the opportunity to quickly jump off his lap to attempt to pick him up. “Babe I was kidding! You’re gonna drop me!” he protested, a leg in the air as you huffed trying your best to lift him from the couch.

“Oh my god! Why are you so heavy?” you groaned, and he laughed falling backwards on the couch and taking you with him, his earlier stress forgotten as the two of you giggled.

Morning came too soon. Bright and early, your alarm started playing My Chemical Romance - you both were going through a nostalgic emo phase. What a way to welcome a busy Sunday morning. The two of you groaned as you cuddled closer, wanting nothing more than to laze around but knowing that you had less than an hour to reach Harry’s house for an early brunch, made you roll out of bed and into the shower. Trust Harry to name breakfast early brunch just because it was a Sunday.

To be completely honest, Namjoon really didn’t want to go. He wanted to stay in and cuddle. The upcoming six months felt like a ticking time bomb of sorts, and with him going away again next week, even if just for a short five days, he felt like he needed to spend every free moment together. He didn’t care what the two of you did, he just wanted to hold you close. Perhaps it was the schedule of long, grueling practices that was handed to him yesterday, or maybe it was how his therapist had reminded him to hold onto things that meant something to him recently, but he felt extra clingy.

However, despite his earlier begrudging, the brunch was actually fun. He had forgotten how well Harry and Jen meshed with the two of you. Conversations were easy, almost carefree. The slight pout on Namjoon’s face all morning had lifted and that made you feel better. You hated pushing him to do things he didn’t want to, but you had been delaying Harry’s invites for two weeks now, and you owed it to your best friend to have a few mimosas. You watched as your boyfriend and Harry laughed at a meme, mimicking it with silly faces as the pitcher of drinks dwindled. It felt comforting, being with your favourite people.

While the men bonded over a show they both had recently watched, Jen and you talked about her annoying supervisor. Jen worked in fashion marketing. Having uprooted her life in Canada to move here for Harry, she had initially had a tough time finding a job and settled for a fairly entry level position despite her graduate degree and past experience. She was someone who took initiative and hated her slightly sexist supervisor who kept telling her to stay in her lane, or worse--taking credit for her ideas. She was passionately discussing another instance of him writing her up for setting up a new way to track their social media analytics when you noticed that she was the only one talking at the table. You smiled at Harry as a way to encourage him to talk to Namjoon, but your boyfriend seemed to be interested in Jen’s rant, adding occasional comments. It warmed your heart to see him genuinely taking an interest.

“Darling, chill. You’ve been talking their ears off about this guy.” Harry chuckled as he looked at Jen. “Y/N already knows how much you hate him, and I’m guessing Namjoon too, by now. You talk too much.”

What was meant as a playful remark didn’t seem to be taken as such when Jen glared at him, crossing her arms and abruptly shutting up. Ah, you knew things would get awkward, especially since the pitcher of mimosa was running low. Although Harry and Jen had an almost perfect relationship, having been together for over nine years, every time Harry got tipsy he found some way to get on her nerves. Case and point.

“Well this happened on Friday, they don’t know about this.” She scowled in his direction, shrugging his arm from around her shoulders. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Namjoon stiffen, not used to their usual bickering. You placed your hand on his thigh, squeezing gently and using all your telepathy to signal to him that this was not a big deal - ah, the downsides of dating an empath.

Before it could get too annoying, you decided to mediate. “Harry, stop being rude and apologize to your wife,” you chided, watching Jen look smugly at her husband who was sputtering about being cornered. Jen continued gloating till Harry accepted defeat.

“Sorry, my beautiful wife,” he sang, as she rolled her eyes. “Even though you’re not mad at me, but your hormones are,” he continued, causing Jen to groan in response.

“Honey! You ruined the surprise!” she whined, as Namjoon and you looked at each other, dumbfounded. However, the gears in your brain started turning as you put together how Jen hadn’t touched any alcohol, how Harry was being weirdly overprotective of her all day, and how she seemed to have gained a little bit of weight.

“Holy shit! Are you guys pregnant?” you yelled, jumping up from your seat, knocking it over behind you in a loud crash that was ignored as you ran to the other side of the table pulling Jen into a hug, the two of you jumping up and down.

It was a flurry of congratulations and hugs, as the expecting couple showed you pictures of ultrasounds and Pinterest boards of the plans for their nursery. You felt excited for your friends, albeit a bit weirded out. These were the first close friends of yours who were expecting a child and it made you question your mortality a little. Were you all really old enough to be having kids? To be moulding lives? Somehow, despite your insistence that you were all pretty young, you supposed it wasn’t that odd for them to plan a family - isn’t that what long term couples in their late twenties did?

You watched Namjoon as he cooed over the black and white blob in the photograph, his eyes shining with excitement, wondering whether he was envious. You weren’t an idiot, you had seen his interviews and his baby shoes, not to mention the amount of pictures he had shared of toddlers in cute outfits to you over Instagram. Namjoon had full blown baby fever, but you knew that not only was it too soon for the two of you to take that step - it was even too soon for marriage! - but it was too soon for you to even think about getting pregnant. You felt a little panicked wondering if that was what your boyfriend expected to happen soon.

Your reverie was broken by Harry, asking to talk to you in private, and you gladly took the interruption to follow him to his office. You leaned against the table, smiling gently at the pictures that adorned the wall next to it - pictures of him and Jen on their first date, his family, the two of you sitting in your dorm room exhausted after officially launching your company. Your smile widened at a newer photo you hadn’t seen before, one of you and your friends at their last party, all of you pulling odd faces. It was the only picture that contained Namjoon and you felt a little touched that he was up on Harry’s wall.

“Hey, you know you’re my best friend, right?” Harry started, a little timidly, pulling your attention away from the photographs. He seemed a little nervous and you wondered if you were being asked to be a godmother. With a little coaxing and joking around, he told you what was on his mind, but it wasn’t the happy news you were thinking of.

“I think we’re going to move back,” he said gently, trying to gauge your response with furrowed brows, but all you could do was stare at him.

“But you can’t be COO from Toronto, Harry,” you said with an air of desperate playfulness that was lost once you saw the corner of his lips pull up in a sad smile.

“I’m sorry, but I’ll still be here to support you and listen to your rants,” he assured, walking closer to you, but all you could do is step back. You knew rationally that it made sense for him to move back - he probably wanted his child to be close to his grandparents and to give Jen a reprieve from her terrible work environment but no matter how much you tried to convince yourself all you could feel was betrayal. Betrayal and abandonment.

“I’ll tell the board myself at the next meeting. I’ll make sure there’s no trouble for you,” he explained, knowing the look on your face, but you could barely hear him over the anxiety you felt pumping in your veins.

“I need to go home,” you said a little robotically as you made your way out of his office, Harry trailing behind you.

“Come on, bub, don’t be like that. Stay. Let’s talk,” he insisted.

“Namjoon, we’re leaving,” you called to your boyfriend who just looked at you, confusion marring his features as you marched out of the house.

Uttering a distracted goodbye and apology to the hosts, Namjoon followed you to the car trying to figure out how the atmosphere has taken such a drastic 180, his thoughts fighting against wanting to protect you and giving his friends the benefit of the doubt.

“What happened?” Namjoon asked once the two of you were back in the car. Despite your best efforts, you looked distraught. He could see it in the way your frown deepened as you lost yourself in your thoughts. When he repeated his question, you finally looked up at him, mouth pressed close and brows furrowed.

“Yellow,” you said simply, and Namjoon's heart felt like it dropped to his stomach. He knew it had to be something truly devastating if you didn’t want to talk about it yet. Even though every instinct in his body told him to prod further, he respected you enough to let it go for the moment, moving closer to you and wrapping his arms around you.

To his dismay, you shrugged him off, moving next to the door, your eyes fixed on the passing scenery. You barely spared him a glance, crossing your arms when he reached for your hand. You were aware that you were probably hurting his feelings, but you knew that if he tried to comfort you right now, you would break, shatter into a million pieces, and you didn’t have the strength to deal with it right now.

Walking into the apartment, you didn’t feel much better. All you could think was that you were alone. Even though Namjoon was next to you, you felt as if you were standing on the edge of an icy mountain, the wind whipping through you like lashes that would leave permanent scars. You didn’t want to think about tomorrow. You didn’t want to think about how, in a moment, Harry had left you behind to deal with the chaos that his departure would inevitably bring. You just didn’t want to think.

Taking a deep breath, you looked at Namjoon standing in the kitchen, getting a glass of water, undoubtedly for you and you felt your heart inflate. Running up to him, you draped your arms around him and crashed your lips onto his. If he was startled by your sudden bout of affection, he didn’t let it show. Instead he held you just as tightly, matching the vigour of your lips as his tongue dominated yours.

“Please, Joonie,” you pleaded, not wanting to stop, yet not knowing what you were asking for.

“Tell me what you need,” Namjoon asked, his lips tracing your cheeks as his hands pulled you impossibly closer. “Tell me what you need and I’ll give it to you. I’ll give you anything you want.”

His words brought a lump to your throat and you couldn’t help kissing him again, pouring your love and gratitude into his lips. When you broke apart, he was cupping your face, looking at you with such devotion that you averted your gaze. You didn’t want his soft touches, you wanted him to punish you for pushing him away. Punish you for being the stupid person that relied so heavily on another. For being scared and weak. And so you asked for just that.

When Namjoon heard your plea to be punished, he felt out of his depth. He didn’t want to cause you more pain, the anguish on your face was giving him pause. He knew that you often disguised your emotions, using sex as an outlet to make yourself let go. He didn’t want to spank you as you were begging but he also didn’t want to let you down, and so he kissed you - stopping your pleas to indulge you.

“Please, I don’t want to think anymore. Just wanna be good for you,” you said, your desperation dripping from your words and how you clutched the front of his shirt, wrinkling the cotton under your grip. And Namjoon had no other choice but to please you, help you forget your worries. He knew what you needed to not think, to forget about your worries, so he gave in to his own need - need to make you feel safe and taken care of.

He broke your kiss to turn you around, his lips trailing down your neck as he suckled the skin, his hands wrapping around your waist to pull you closer as an idea formed in his head. “My sweet girl,” he muttered as he felt you relax against him, letting him take over like you always did. His hands trailed up your stomach, leaving goosebumps as they pulled the hem of your shirt with them, and he relished your little moan at his praise. His lips reached your ear, nibbling at the skin as he spoke, his voice gravelly.

“I’m not gonna spank, today,” he said, ignoring your whine with a harsh nip at your ear that made you melt. “I’m in charge… I’ll punish you how I want, isn't that right?” He punctuated his question with a hand on your neck, using it to make you look up to him. When you nodded, your eyes big, he kissed you, languidly caressing your tongue with his, tasting the mimosas from earlier.

“You wanna be my good girl but not talk?” he asked, his tone a little harsher than he wanted, but it only made you want him more. Turning around, you murmured a little apology that was quickly swallowed by his lips as he pulled you closer by the grip on your ass, massaging the flesh in a way that made your chest warm.

“I won’t punish you for whatever’s in your silly head right now, but I’ll punish you if you make another sound, understood?”

“But-”

Your protest was cut short by him nipping at your lower lip, pulling the flesh in a taunt that silenced you. “That’s one, baby,” he chided with a kiss to your swollen lip.

“I’m sorry,” you answered, voice meek, realizing your mistake as he clicked his tongue in reprimand, his hands cupping your face. You looked oddly innocent, your face looking younger as you stared at him with big eyes and pouty lips, and he couldn’t help kissing you again, softly pulling your lips between his.

“Two. Not another sound, pretty girl,” he reminded you, his thumbs tracing your cheekbones. “Now go to our room, strip, fold your clothes and then stand in the middle. Eyes closed, hands behind your back. Understood?”

His voice was harsh, commanding and you couldn’t help nodding in response. He kissed you at that, before letting you go, patting your behind to get you moving. You felt as if you were in a daze, your body moving at its own accord, following his instructions without hesitation. Soon, you were in your room naked and blinded, waiting for him.

You didn’t know how long he would take, but you trusted him, your body vibrating with anticipation. However, the silence was daunting, and you were once again left with your thoughts, dread for tomorrow swirling within you, making your breaths shallower and your heart race. You felt stupid for being so scared, so anxious about something as mundane as a resignation, but then again, Harry wasn’t just some employee. He was your best friend, someone who had been through the trenches with you. Someone who had seen you at your worst and still decided to believe in you. Someone who was now leaving you behind. If he could leave, couldn’t everyone else too? Like Namjoon. What was stopping him from stepping out of your life just as easily?

“I didn’t tell you to think, now did I?” Namjoon asked, his chest molded to your back, as he ran a finger up your arm, leaving goosebumps in his wake and breaking you out of your spiral. His lips were back on your neck, his favourite place, and you had to actively stop yourself from moaning at his reverent touches.

A resolve that was quickly broken when you felt something cold caress the side of your chest. You gasped loudly, your hands holding on to his thighs and eyes fluttering open to see his fingers holding an ice cube, delicately tracing the melting crystal around the curve of your breast. The sensation was new, making you shake a little in his hold as he used his other hand to warm the trail of cold water it left behind.

“Three. You’re forgetful today, huh?” he said, playfully, watching the way your nipples hardened as he trailed the icicle over them. He could hear your breaths get heavier, your face relaxing as you closed your eyes again, a stark contrast to how you seemed on the verge of a meltdown when he arrived earlier. He was glad to give you the reprieve in his arms, kissing your cheek as he watched your furrowed brows dissolve.

He let the ice melt as he traced it around your torso till it was merely water glistening on your skin. Moving around your body, he let his lips move from your shoulders to your chest, capturing your nipple between them and lapping at it with his tongue.

It was tantalizing. Your knees almost buckled at the sensation as you used every bit of willpower to ensure your hands remained behind your back and your lips sealed. You dug your fingernails into your forearm as he repeated the action on your other nipple, his hands firmly holding your waist so you couldn’t feel anything other than his lips and the way his hair gently tickled your skin at every suckle.

He moved away, giving you a break, before gently commanding you to get on your knees, guiding you slowly till you were sitting on your heels. His fingers cupped your face before he kissed you again, igniting stars behind your eyelids as you lost yourself in him. All you could feel was his touch as he stroked your hair when he stood up, the anticipation making you wetter as you pressed your thighs together. He saw your action, and using his foot, he ensured your legs were far apart, not granting you any relief. You almost whined, but you remembered your rules, biting your lip instead.

“Open your eyes, baby,” he said, his hand cupping your jaw and thumb releasing your lip from between your teeth. When you followed his command you were rewarded by your boyfriend, completely naked as he stood in front of you. You couldn’t help your eyes tracing over him, from his strong shoulders to his defined pecs that sloped into a taut stomach with lines leading to his almost hard dick, only inches away from your face.

You didn’t think about waiting for any more instructions, your mouth moving towards him of its own accord. Your tongue traced his length, before you suckled on his tip, enjoying the way he sighed. His hand brushed lightly at your scalp as you took him in deeper, feeling him inflate in your mouth as you started bobbing your head ever so slightly.

You wanted to moan at the way his taste erupted on your tongue, the way his cock twitched between your lips, but you wanted to be good for him, give him everything he wanted, so you kept quiet, your hands itching behind you to run up his legs. You looked up at him, when his other hand joined your hair, his touch still gentle, and you relaxed your throat taking him deeper, loving how he bit his lip as you swallowed.

He groaned, his grip in your hair getting tighter and you slid back, resting your ass on your feet to start moving down his length faster, taking him deeper with each slide as he finally deciphered your blown pupils and wide eyes and rocked his hips. It started slow, but soon he was fucking your face, your spit drooling down your lips at each stroke, making him more feral. You closed your eyes, letting his hands and grunts guide you as you concentrated on not moaning in ecstasy.

“Look at me, sweet baby,” he cooed, and you were greeted by his face etched in focus as a bead of sweat dripped down his brow. He looked incredible, his forearms flexed as he moved his hips that you couldn’t help moaning as he fucked you, watching the way he smirked in response.

“Four, baby,” he tsked. He moaned loudly as you sucked harder in revenge, your tongue tracing his length inside your mouth as he pulled back. He was trying to hold back, to make himself last longer, but with the way your face twisted in bliss as he let go he couldn’t help increasing his pace.

“Swallow it all. Be my good girl,” he grunted as he felt your throat tickle his tip, his stomach jolting and clenching as he came closer to his end. You sat with your mouth open, your tongue hanging out and Namjoon had never felt so lucky. He stroked his cock a few times before he was cumming into your awaiting mouth, out of breath.

You showed him his cum resting on your tongue before swallowing, the bittersweet taste making you roll your eyes back as you beamed at him. He giggled, his heart turning into fluff at how your hands were still behind your back, and he bent down to kiss you. He moved your hands to his shoulders as you sighed in his mouth in relief, pulling him closer.

You could make out with him for hours, your sore knees and worries forgotten as his tongue played with yours and he grabbed your ass. You didn't even feel him stand up, but soon you were being lifted and dropped on the bed, his body resting over yours as he continued to kiss you. He broke away when you could feel the air in your lungs running out, his hand cupping his face as he slotted his knee between your legs. You couldn’t help but grind against it, your breath hitching at how the slight touch made you quiver. He hadn’t even touched you and you were dripping against him.

“You did so good, lovely,” he said softly, pecking your nose, and you felt your heart inflate, just wanting to be wrapped in his embrace forever. You wrapped your hands and legs around him, pulling him to you as he fell with a little huff, chuckling at your actions and kissing your neck. It felt odd being so needy for him, but you couldn’t help it. You wanted to drown in him, to have him engulf you till all you could think or breathe was him. He let you indulge, leaving little bruises where his lips trailed over your chest, as you felt your skin heat up, your hips canting gently against his thigh. It was magical. It was overwhelming.

You whined as he detangled your limbs, moving your hands behind the small of your back as he laved over your nipples, making you needier. He travelled down your body, leaving a trail of kisses that shone in the dim light of your room, his hair tickling you and making goosebumps erupt. With each gentle touch, your breaths became heavier - your lust increasing, leaving your mind in a haze.

“Five,” he reprimanded and you felt a sudden bout of guilt. You couldn’t do anything right today, could you? Not even follow his simple instructions. All you had to do was keep quiet and you couldn’t even manage that. Why would Namjoon even bother being with you when you couldn’t even please him in bed, the bare minimum of a relationship?

You had barely noticed the way you stilled, getting lost in your thoughts again, but Namjoon saw the way your face dropped, your lip wobbling a little, and it broke his heart. He moved back to your face, his fingers tracing your features slowly till your eyes were on him. He kissed you gently, letting his love flow to you, hoping to take away all of your worries.

“Stay with me, Y/N,” he whispered, kissing your cheek, stroking your scalp. “Is it too hard to be quiet?” he asked, and you nodded despite desperately wanting not to disappoint him. He smiled at you, kissing you again. “That’s okay, baby. We can take that away. You can speak, okay?”

“I’m sorry,” you said softly, averting your gaze, and he just gave you a gentle dismissive hum, holding your chin and kissing you deeply. You left your hands behind your back even though you wanted to hold him, instead arching into him. He took the hint, his hands roaming down your body as he pulled your hands from under you and around him, his own encompassing you tightly.

He didn’t want to punish you anymore. He just wanted you to feel good, take away the rare frailty that seemed to drown you, and praise you, worship you. Initially he planned to edge you, knowing how much you enjoyed being kept on your toes, wanting to turn you into a needy mess, but the way you were apologizing and clinging to him didn’t sit right with him. He just wanted to please you, vanish the thoughts that were haunting you and make you happy again.

Bracing his weight on his forearm under you, he let his free hand roaming down your body without breaking the kiss. His fingers met your wet folds and you jolted, a mewl escaping your lips, as he ran his fingers over your slit slowly, teasing you.

He traced circles on your clit and he moved his lips away from yours to watch you, increasing his pace as your face contorted in pleasure. Your hips started moving on their own as you lost yourself in the feel of him, feeling so small under his hold.

When a finger entered you, you moaned, pleading for more, and he obliged with a sloppy peck to your cheek. His fingers started moving faster, each thrust lighting you up in ecstasy as he whispered how well you were doing for him.

“Please… Joonie… gonna cum if you don’t stop,” you whimpered, looking at him with glassy eyes, and he just smiled, his dimples deepening in affection.

“Then cum, my pretty girl,” he said, his thumb on your clit making you lose your senses as galaxies exploded inside you, making you forget anything other than his touch as you writhed under him.

He slowed his movements, never stopping as you came down from your high. You moaned as you got more sensitive but he didn’t stop, relishing the way your walls fluttered around his digits as he hit that spot within you that made your limbs tremble.

He moved his body to your side and used the hand under you to curl you towards him, capturing your lips in another searing kiss that left you scrambling for him, nails digging into his side and shoulder.

“That’s one. Count and say thank you,” he muttered, his fingers still driving in you, palm on your clit making shockwaves run through your legs as they tightened around his hand.

“One. Thank you, Joonie,” you moaned, your back arching as he slowly picked up the speed, and your hands took purchase in the long hair on the nape of his neck.

“That’s my girl,” he praised with a kiss on your cheek. “My best girl. My smart baby. Four more for being so good for me, okay?”

His words sent a warmth through you, tinged with a slight dread for your throbbing cunt. His mixture of adoration and control made your nerves go haywire, amplified by how he picked up the pace and took your nipple between his lips, his tongue flicking the nub as he sucked on it. The combination was enough to light you up once again, pushing you off the cliff as you spasmed under his hold, mewling his name.

“Two. Thank you.”

You could barely hear his reply over your pounding heart, feeling like your nerves were frayed. You felt like you were floating, his lips making their way down your body till they latched on your clit, repeating the actions of his mouth on your nipple. Your chest was heaving at the onslaught of sensations racing through you, your exhales turning into whines as he continued his ministrations. You fisted the bedsheets next to you, pulling the silky material as your hips rutted against his face, oversensitivity turning your legs to jelly.

The third time he made you cum, it was like reaching nirvana, an out of body experience that drenched the sheets and made you sob. His fingers were ruthless as they pistoned in and out of you, turning you limbless as you clenched around them, your pussy sucking them in like your life depended on it. Your voice was hoarse when you screamed your gratitude, tears streaking your face. Namjoon spoke but you were lost in the bittersweet pleasure, unable to comprehend anything other than the way his expert touch brought an onslaught of a tingling pain that left you panting.

“Y/N. Colour?” he said, louder this time, his fingers stilling as he climbed over you to check on you, waiting for you to calm down.

“Green,” you sighed, cupping his face and kissing him so fiercely he felt as if you would devour him whole. “Want your cock, Joonie. Please… fuck me… please,” you pleaded, and he had no choice then to give in to your sweet voice and sweeter touches.

His cock replaced his fingers, the stretch making your eyes roll back into your skull as you held him close. He slowly filled you and your pussy fluttered around him, too sensitive but all too needy for more. He kissed you just as he thrust into you for the first time and you couldn’t help leaving scratches on his back.

“So good. Please, Joonie,” you whined, teeth on his bicep as his forearms landed next to your head and he started a hard and slow pace. With every stroke you could feel the pain ebbing into euphoria. Your tears continued as you mouthed at his neck, the salty taste of his sweat leaving you wanting more, pulling him closer till his face was buried next to yours, his little grunts and raspy moans in your ear sending you higher. You nails scratched down his back to his ass and you groped at the flesh as he went impossibly deep, his hips slamming into your faster now, pulling you closer and closer to the cusp.

“Four! Thank you, daddy!” you screamed once you came again, holding on to him like your life depended on it. You didn’t know why you used the moniker that you had once laughed at him for. Perhaps you wanted to do it for him as a thank you for the way he was pulling you towards new heights of pleasure. Perhaps it was because you had never felt safer than you did with his large body drowning yours. All you knew was that it felt perfect in the moment. Too perfect not to moan it into the air as his face moved from your hair to look at you, his skepticism fading with each one of your repetitions and melting into the way he fucked into you with vigour.

“Daddy’s good little girl,” he groaned as your pussy tightened around him, holding on to the edge of his sanity as he gritted his teeth. He hadn’t expected you to ever call him the elusive word of his fantasies, and the way you looked at him with wet lashes and bruised lips was bringing him to his end faster than he wanted.

He still wanted you to cum one last time, to let go for him so he could fill you up. With a kiss, he brought his hand back to your clit, ignoring the way you jolted and yelped. He wanted you to be exhausted, so satiated that your earlier worries would disappear.

“Last one, baby. You going to give it to me?” he questioned, his lips missing yours and landing on your cheek as he tried to keep some semblance of control, his dick twitching inside you.

“Yes, daddy,” you whimpered, your pussy raw from his hard thrusts and rough circling of your clit. Your legs started shaking first, then your arms as you lost yourself under the wave again, a pitiful, high pitched whine escaping your lips. This orgasm felt more forced than the others, the rough pain prickling at the edges as you rode it, but all you wanted was more.

He delivered, his movements becoming sloppier but faster as he followed you, jumping head first straight into his own orgasm, filling you up, and collapsing on you. Your ears buzzed as the two of you caught your breath, hair plastered to your forehead with sweat. Namjoon was eager to fulfil the role you had granted him, wanting to rush to the bathroom to clean you up and take care of you, regardless of how his legs were trembling. However, he had barely moved an inch when you were scrambling to him, just like you had earlier, desperately holding him close.

“Don’t leave me,” you weeped, crying into his shoulder as you held him tightly, not even letting him pull out. “Please, don’t leave me!”

“I’m not leaving you. I’m here,” he assured, hugging you to him and soothingly running his hand on your skin. Namjoon didn’t know what was happening, he just wanted to quell your tears, make the anguish in your tone disappear. He sat up, holding you to his chest, as you still clung to him, sobbing loudly. He whispered “I love you”s, stroking your hair to calm down your shaking.

You didn’t know how long you cried, but by the end your eyes were puffy and your throat felt like it held razor blades, but he held you throughout, helping you forget your baseless insecurities and covering you with his warmth till your tears ceased.

You sat in silence for a while, and he kissed your head periodically. Namjoon was worried. He didn’t want you to shut him out again. Your tears proved whatever was on your mind was taking a toll on you and he couldn’t imagine what could possibly be so devastating. He wordlessly coaxed you into letting him carry you to the bathroom, where he placed you under a warm shower, cleaning the two of you up.

The scent of your vanilla body wash calmed you enough to mumble weak apologies that were dismissed by your boyfriend as he held you close and dried both your bodies, letting your hair stay damp as he dressed you. When he was done with his own clothes you wrapped your arms around his neck, standing on your toes to place a gentle kiss upon his lips that he reciprocated by lifting you into his arms once again. You hugged him, holding on to him, as he made his way into the kitchen.

Placing you on the breakfast island, he took out a box of strawberries from the fridge. He washed them and placed them on a plate, making his way to you. He didn’t let you lift a finger, feeding you the sweet fruit and rewarding each bite with a kiss to your forehead. You felt a bit coddled, but you couldn’t help basking in his affection. You weren’t sure why you had broken down so terribly, your anxiety for the future seemed a little silly now that the moment had passed.

When he had fed you a few strawberries, he paused, kissing your lips as he finally asked the question that was burning in his mind. He pulled up a stool, sitting in front of you, his hands landing on your hips.

“It’s dumb,” you said, running your hands on his shoulders, the soft material of his shirt feeling like velvet.

“That’s okay,” he replied, turning his head to land a kiss on your hand. “Tell me.”

And so you did. You told him about Harry leaving and your fears surrounding it - about how they had somehow led to a stagnant loneliness that made you feel as if everyone was going to leave you, too. He didn’t interrupt, letting you rant about your demons as his touch assured you.

“You know I’m never going to leave you, right?” He asked, his hands cupping your face as he looked up at you. Your eyes teared up at that, and you let one escape and he brushed it away with his thumb. “I love you. I love you so much, Y/N.”

“I love you, Joonie,” you murmured, your forehead resting against his. “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me, silly girl,” he chuckled, pulling you in for a gentle kiss before helping you get off the counter and leading you to your room. The two of you changed your sheets together and then got into bed, holding each other close.

“Sorry for the daddy thing,” you said sheepishly as you were about to sleep. He chuckled in response, pulling you closer to his chest and kissing you tenderly on your hair.

“Stop apologizing,” he chided. “You know how I feel about that. I was surprised, though.”

“Me too,” you giggled, hiding your face in his chest. “It felt right, though.”

“I’d be happy to be your daddy,” he joked, pulling your leg over his hip, and you couldn’t help snorting at his playful tone.

“Joonie,” you whined and he just cackled, holding you close and kissing you.

“But baby, please please don’t shut me out,” he pleaded. “I just wanna share your burden. You know I’d never judge you, right? You’re my safe space and I hope I’m yours, too.”

“You are. The safest space. I just… I’m scared.”

“It’s okay to be scared, you know?” he said, a hand on your jaw making you look up at him. “But I believe in you. Harry or not, you’re going to persevere. Because you’re the strongest person I know, Y/N.”

Although your instinct was to argue against his statement, you fought it, letting his words comfort you. Namjoon was attuned to you, however, knowing you would probably do this again, but he too let it go and just held you close, letting the sound of your breathing lull him to sleep.

True to Harry’s word, the next board meeting he had walked in with a transition plan. It was two weeks after the brunch and was the longest the two of you hadn’t talked since your friendship began. After discussing things with Namjoon, you knew you were being petty and stubborn but you still couldn’t shake off the shock of him just leaving. He was leaving the company, the country but most of all, he was leaving you.

It felt like a breakup of sorts. The two of you have been like a well-oiled machine for so long that everytime you thought about running the company without him, it felt unfathomable.

However when it rains, it pours, because your biggest shock of that month wasn’t that your business partner was leaving you, it was when Namjoon made a throwaway comment one night.

You were sitting on your coach watching some terrible new drama. His arm was around you as he went through Twitter on his phone, completely ignoring the badly written love triangle that had you on the edge of your seat.

“Babe, your stupid app’s pinging again,” he groaned as the notification popped up on his phone.

“I told you! Fix your notifications,” you grumbled, your eyes glued to the television. “I turned mine off ages ago.”

“Yeah but I like to be reminded when you’re gonna start yelling at me cause you’re PMSing,” he joked, pressing a kiss to your cheek as you shrugged him off, annoyed.

“Kim Namjoon, that is so sexist! I don’t yell at you because of PMS!” you answered with a fake smile as you turned to him. “I yell at you cause your clumsy ass keeps hurting yourself.”

“Aww, my hero,” he cooed, before turning to his phone again. “But seriously, can you update your period on this so it stops telling me you’re late everyday?”

“I’m not late,” you scoffed.

“Well according to the app, you are six days late,” he answered, rolling his eyes, oblivious to the way your face fell as you checked your own phone trying to figure out when your last period was. It couldn’t be that late, you were oddly regular. The most fluctuation you had had was maybe two days in your entire post-pubescent life.

You couldn’t help looking at Namjoon, your voice tainted with a shocked awe.

“I’m late.”

previous | masterlist | next

242 notes · View notes