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soursatellite · 1 month

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The Waters We Brave - Ch. 1

Pairing: Gurney Halleck x Original Female Character (Moira Atreides)

Summary: The year is 10,189. House Atreides stands strong as one of the great houses of the known universe. Marchioness Moira Atreides, sister to the great Duke Leto, begins to fear the plots hiding beneath the waves.

Tags: Age Gap (original character is 31 and Gurney is in his early 50's), YEARNING, slow burn, devious political plots, plot heavy, fluff, angst, did I mention we're yearning? Leto and Moira being the sibling duo to end all sibling duos, Jessica and Moira being the girlbosses to end all girlbosses

Warnings: Self harm in the form of picking at skin due to stress

WC: 5044

Author's Note: It's here! This is my first ever fanfic and I'm so excited to be posting this. I hope all you Gurney lovers out there find some enjoyment in this. This is an introductory and VERY plot/character establishment heavy chapter. So if you like this and want me to keep writing this series PLEASE PLEASE let me know. I want to hear all of your thoughts. I promise that if I write future chapters they will be more GurneyxOC heavy, I just loved writting the political intrigue. Much love, Sputnik <3

Excerpt from the Histories of House Atreides:

The Duchess in the Shadows

We turn now to another member of the House Atreides; the younger sister of the Duke Leto, Lady Moira Atreides. 12 years his junior in age but equal in mind, Moira Atreides was the picture of political prowess alongside her brother. She played such an integral part in his rule that some referred to her as, ‘The Duchess in the Shadows’.

Despite not being the direct heir, Lady Moira was raised with all the training a person of high political esteem may need by her and Leto’s father as a powerful asset to his son’s rule. And live up to the expectation she did.

The Marchioness’ heavy dress whipped in the Caladanian winds as the door of the ship opened into a ramp, the feeling of the breeze a cool salve across her cheek and mind. She turns to look at the Atreides Warmaster, Gurney Halleck, standing slightly behind her left, “Are you not delighted to be home, dear Warmaster?”

The man’s face remained set in stone, “Overjoyed, my Lady”

A laugh escapes her lips, “careful, one day you may slip up and I may be able to tell how you feel without asking,” the woman faces forward once again. The vessel they were onboard let out a final groan as its ramp fully extended. Moira couldn’t help stealing a deep breath of the air of her home world, a crisp welcome that she never failed to love. The few strands of her dark hair that had escaped the intricate updo atop her head tickled the sides of her face. Nothing could quell the joy that filled her heart upon returning home even after her 31 years of life on the planet.

The smile it brought her fails to leave her lips as she sees her family there to greet her. Her brother the Duke Leto, her good friend Lady Jessica, and beloved nephew Paul. The boy ran forward as Moira reached Caladans ground and pulled his Aunt into a firm hug. She gives a joking groan and pats his back, “Gods, my boy. As much as I adore your welcomes you cannot continue your greetings like this. When you are a man grown you will knock me off my feet.”

The boy ignores her tease and pulls back with a smile, “we are happy for your return. And yours as well, Warmaster,” he says looking from his aunt to his tutor. The boy had already passed Moira in height despite being in his mid teens. The two share their pale skin and wavy dark hair, but he gained the greenish-blue eyes of his mother while Leto and Moira shared eyes of a dark brown.

The Marchioness pats the boy’s back before continuing to walk towards Lady Jessica and Leto, “We are glad to be back. It feels like ages since I was graced with the loveliness of our home,” she holds out her arm to her brother for him to shake, and the man can’t help but let out his own laugh and grab her arm, pulling her into a firm, quick hug, “A month you have been gone, sister. One month too long. The planet has missed you.”

“Well not just the planet I hope,” she says, sharing a smile with Jessica.

The woman gives a pleased look to her friend and takes her hand from Leto’s, “We’ve had a dinner prepared for your arrival. I know you must be exhausted, but it’s nothing a good meal among family won’t fix,” the group of them begin walking into the castle.

As they walk, Moira catches Gurney starting to split off from the group and halts, “you will be joining us won’t you, sir?”

He stops in place and turns, meeting the expectant eyes of the Lady Moira, “I did not wish to intrude, my Lady.”

“Nonsense, Gurney,” she walks forward to him and takes his hand in hers, “you know you are family as much as the rest of us.”

The man looks down at his rough hand encased in the Lady’s smooth skin, struggling to find the words to reply before Leto pipes up, “Yes we insist, Gurney. You must join us.”

He clears his throat lightly and nods, “If the Duke and his family wish it.”

Moira smiles. Ever the professional Gurney was. If Moira had learned anything in her years traveling with him, it was that the man would not seek to make his wishes known unless they could be phrased in a way that would please her or her lord brother.

“Good. Now go get cleaned up and we will see you in our dining hall,” she gives his hand one last squeeze and Gurney gives her nothing more than a short nod before walking off. Moira turns back to her family, “I shall see you all in an hour.”

Gurney, above all else, was reliable. He was loyal and set in his ways, a feature he prided himself on. When the young Duke Leto Atreides had liberated the man from the Harkonnens in an Atreides raid on Giedi Prime, he vowed his loyalty to the Duke and his family. Thus his new routine was set in place. He proudly served his Duke and his family upon rising to the rank of Warmaster, and happily fell into routine. He tutored the Duke’s young son Paul and trained his soldiers. When the long day was done, he would retire to his room, read his books, and play the Baliset. With all the tumultuous tides his early life had brought, Gurney would have happily spent his eternity in this life, but life hardly let us have what we wanted.

For the better part of the last two years, Gurney Halleck had found himself accompanying the Marchioness Moira Atreides on cross world and interplanetary diplomatic voyages. Now Lady Moira and Gurney sat at the private dinner table of Duke Leto, Lady Jessica, and the young pup Paul. The brother and sister talked emphatically of the recent excursion and the three others in the room simply sat and ate their dinners silently, they would hardly have been able to get a word in if they’d wanted to. Everyone knew that attempting to pull the siblings' attention from each other after they’d been apart and had so much to discuss was like trying to get a child to look away from a sky full of colorful fireworks.

The Warmaster had hardly noticed that his mind had been so far elsewhere from the table until he heard a lull of silence and looked up to see Lady Moira and the rest of the table looking at him expectantly after Moira had said something he’d failed to hear. Gurney internally chastised himself for not being vigilant in the conversation before asking, “I’m sorry, what was that, my Lady..?”

Gurney’s flustered state (of course flustering Gurney was as simple as catching him without an immediate phrase or retaliation) was met with a simple smile that twitched at the edges of the Lady’s lips, amusement twinkling in her eyes, “I said the people on Exodeos were quite enthralled with your baliset playing, weren’t they?”

The Warmaster recovered quickly and stopped himself from mindlessly stabbing at his food to regain some semblance of professionalism despite the fact that he was among family, “Oh, yes they were, my Lady,” there was a pause as Gurney clears his throat and tries to brush off the affectionately teasing comment, “Every time I set it down they begged for one more tune,” Gurney said, trying to regale the talk with a tone of amusement, as much as his monotone voice would allow.

Moira laughed and looked back to the other members of her family, “you should all be jealous that I got to hear so much. We all know how difficult it is to get our dear Warmaster to play for us, but I think he simply couldn’t resist the applause.” Everyone chuckles and Gurney can’t help looking back to his food. He wasn’t offended by the Lady’s prodding; not in the slightest. He wasn’t sure the woman could ever offend him. That was what made things so difficult.

The dinner was a pleasant one. Too often did Gurney deny himself the enjoyment of a nice meal, usually opting to scarf it down as fast as possible to return to his work. Of course he would never dream of disrespecting his royal family like that and remained seated for the entirety of the meal, listening silently to the conversations of the group.

When the dinner was done, they all stood. The Duke was the first to excuse himself, and Gurney quickly bowed to excuse himself, but could not begin to move away before Lady Moira stopped him. She turned and said a quick word to Jessica about meeting her in her library for a cup of tea before returning to the Warmaster, “I do hope you take leave for the rest of the evening. We’ve had a long journey, and I do not wish to see you over exert yourself,”

“It is not overexertion if I find the work pleasing, my Lady,” he replies simply, knowing she will disapprove.

She just gives him a look and asserts herself, “I mean it. Take the rest of the night off. Your men will last a few more hours without you,” her words are firm, and full of seriousness. But he knows she speaks from a place of concern, and her tone does not lack lightness.

He nods and replies, “If you insist, my Lady,” as if he would ever disobey an order from her.

Moira’s smile graced her lips once more and she nodded. Letting him go, she turns and walks out of the dining hall. He hardly notices his eyes following her until he turns and meets the eyes of the young Paul Atreides, a slightly mischievous smirk upon his face. Gurney looks at him unamused, “Just because your aunt has dismissed me from duty doesn’t mean she has done the same for you. Back to your studies, young pup,” he clasps the back of the boy’s shoulder before going to his chambers, the boy letting out an immature groan behind him.

Lady Moira’s private library was vast; filled with literature, histories, and journals from planets across the known universe, including her own records of things. A sturdy wooden desk sat proudly in the center, the full shelves lining the walls surrounding it. Two plush chairs sat by a window, turned in towards a small coffee table where the tea cup of the Lady sat steaming.

The Lady Jessica sat, cradling the warm cup in her slender hands as she watched her friend pace back and forth in front of the looming shelves. One a skilled Bene Gesserit, and the other a fearsome politician, Jessica and Moira shared many a whispered conversation in the cold room under the light of the glowglobe. They had been each other’s closest confidants since Jessica’s arrival as the Duke’s concubine, both in work and friendship. Between the two of them, it was nearly impossible for something to escape the castle unheard or unseen.

This particular night, Lady Jessica did most of the listening as the Marchioness relayed some of the more minute details of her recent escapade that she had yet to share with the Duke. Things like public opinions on their house and discrete conversations she’d heard. The Lady doesn’t miss as her friend’s shoulder’s grow more and more tense and she picks more harshly at the skin around her nails, as if there’s something building in her; bursting at the seems to be let out but being held back by the twines of self preservation. Jessica takes the liberty of snipping that thread.

“Something troubles you,” the words are direct, not a question, “You’ve heard something. Or seen it?” Jessica sips the hot liquid and keeps her eyes set on Moira’s avoidant ones.

Lady Moira lets out a deep sigh, her body deflating but maintaining it’s rigidity, “the waters we brave are rocky, Jessica,” the woman stands behind the chair she would have used if not for the anxiety keeping her on her feet and grips the backrest of it with firm knuckles, “Opinions of the name ‘Atreides’ grow stronger, in many ways.”

“But you always have stated that the positive dealings far outweigh the negative-”

“They do and that’s what worries me,” The Marchioness’ dark brows crease as she stares down at her knuckles, her eyes glossed over with thought, “we move further and further from a safe and steady neutral. More people across the known universe have a growing love and support for Leto, but this only means that those who wish to see him fall will rise to meet that demand. Rumors have begun to circulate surrounding me.. Some are saying that I wish to usurp my brother’s throne.”

Jessica sips her tea with no more urgency before replying to the Lady of the House. She was aware of these rumors that sometimes circled between the common folk who had nothing better to talk about sometimes than unrest within the royal house, but she knew better than anyone that these words weren’t true.

“Those that doubt your intentions are looking for theatrics where there are none. The Duke knows you have his best interests at heart. As do I. Leto would never believe these histrionic claims made about the person who has so vehemently supported his reign from the very beginning.”

Jessica’s eyes are drawn down to her Lady’s hands that burn a raw red around the nail beds, her eyes still not meeting Jessica’s own. “It’s not the rumors themselves that worry me, it’s where I’m finding them. Planets far away that have no prior attachment to the House Atreides and should not have any care for our politics. The eyes I have sent around the galaxy have seen them on planets the Duke has not touched.”

The cause of Moira’s concern becomes clear and Jessica lowers her teacup to her lap, “They’re being planted. Who would benefit from such whispers? An attempt to turn the people against the Duke or the Duke against you.. Is it a Harkonnen plot?”

“No no, it’s not the Harkonnens,” Moira moves from her previous spot and begins walking along the sides of the room near the door, listening for unwanted spectators, “They would benefit yes but they’re not the cause. It’s much too subtle of a plan and is being found far outside of their range of jurisdiction…” The Lady’s voice falters into a pause of hesitation and Jessica grips her cup.

“You suspect someone..?

Moira’s lips purse in hesitation as she reaches and locks the door before moving to Jessica. The Bene Gesserit mirrors the urgency, setting down her cup and standing to meet the woman’s gaze. Moira holds the Lady’s arm with a steady gentleness and whispers in her ear in a tone just above silence “the Emperor Shaddam.”

The Lady Jessica snaps her head and meets the dark eyes of the Marchioness for the first time this evening. There is no jest in them; no sense of uncertainty, only fear encased in an iron shell of will. The Emperor Shaddam Corrino IV, “you’re sure?”

“As sure as I can be,” Moira takes one of Jessica’s hands and clasps it in her own, “by spreading these rumors he allows a shadow of doubt to befall Leto. To us they seem completely unfounded but to others it could mean a lessening of their faith in him. Their validity and plausibility hardly matter. It’s simply the doubt in Leto’s ability he wishes to sow. But I believe this could all be part of a much bigger plot. Something much more sinister ..”

Jessica nods as the two women share a knowing look, “we must not fear…”

A smirk twitches in the corners of Moira’s lips “and we shall not,” she gives Jessica’s hands a light squeeze, “don’t worry yourself with this immediately, and do not mention what I have told you to anyone, not even Leto. I will tell him when the moment arises.. We’ve yet to know how deep these roots have grown and how many seeds have been planted. Being too hasty with things will only deepen the wound. I want you to focus your attention on Paul and his training. You may have set him up to help us in ways we do not yet know. Now, the hour is late. I will retire for the night and I advise you to do the same.”

The Bene Gesserit nods and soothes away the worry from her sea-glass eyes in a way only a Bene Gesserit could, “anything I come across will be brought to you,” and with that the woman slipped away into the darkness. Perhaps the women’s affinity for the shadows aided in their friendship. Moira knew that it certainly aided in their design.

As the door shut behind Jessica the Lady Moira allows her shoulder, brittle from the weight of everything on her mind, to crumble. Much of her dignity had lain in her ability to bear the burdens of her profession. She was not so caught up in her upbringing that she allowed herself to ignore the vast pleasures and ease of living she experienced on a daily basis, but the mental price was a hefty one. And she had no one to blame but herself for her involvement in it.

Moira collapses into one of the plush chairs, her hands coming up to rub her face in an attempt to push the thoughts from her mind. It was like the stress had made her whole body on edge. Everything felt elevated; from the throbbing weight of her braided hair being amassed on top of her head to the stinging of the torn skin of her fingers. She could hear the chastising of her brother in her head, ‘why do you torment yourself so? I know you do enough of it mentally for the both of us’.

It’s not until long after the Lady says she was going to head back to her chambers that she finally does so, saying a prayer to the gods that she would find rest easily despite knowing that was a hopeless wish.

Gurney always struggled to find sleep the first night after returning home. He put all his effort into adjusting to the schedules of whatever planet they may go to in order to maintain top performance, mentally and physically. He knew he was in extremely good shape for his age, even better than most men much younger than himself, but that didn’t mean he was ignorant to the extra effort it took to keep it that way.

When the second hour with no sleep had passed, he let out a heavy sigh before standing, pulling on a simple outfit and shoes to go take a walk through the castle in an attempt to clear his head and wear himself out

He was always on high alert when on a voyage with the Marchioness. That level of awareness could be hard to let go of upon returning. Her safety was Gurney’s number one priority the second their vessel left Caladan to the moment they returned. The Lady Moira had gone on diplomatic missions for years before Gurney was officially assigned to accompany her. She’s always been protected, sent with an entourage of guards. It had always been enough for her, especially in her early days as a young politician. People would pay her little mind and she was able to slink between conversations all she liked without much notice.

Of course it didn’t remain that way. As Leto became more popular, more attention also found its way to his envoy. When Leto heard there had been plots of an attempt on his sister’s life that nearly came to fruition, he spared no time upping her guards. Gurney distinctly remembers the moment, nearly two years ago, when the Duke had called him to his office and commanded that the Warmaster accompany Lady Moira on all future diplomatic missions. The man phrased it as if part of the reason was that it was important his master of war was just as just as tuned in to these foreign relations, but Gurney knew the most vital thing was keeping the Marchioness safe. One thing Gurney was certain of is that if one of the Atreides siblings was taken from the other, only tragedy would befall the one that remained.

And thus the Warmaster found himself in the company of the Marchioness of Caladan, Moira Atreides. Despite the fact that Gurney Halleck had served as Warmaster to the Atreides house for more moons than he could count at this point, it was only when Leto had officially assigned Gurney to accompany Lady Moira that he actually spent time with the Duke’s illustrious sister. For most of his service, he cared only for war and the protection of the Duke. He didn’t concern himself with politics much in the beginning. His only impression of the Lady was restricted to flashes of her dark hair and intricate gowns in the halls, or when he’d go to meet his Duke and find her there rambling things of great importance that would immediately stop the moment he entered the room. He knew the Duke thought of her highly, more so than almost anyone. That was enough for him to respect her.

Gurney would be lying if he said he didn’t find her a tad unnerving at first. Sometimes she would come into the training room to watch his training of the soldiers, her face devoid of any discernible emotion about what she saw, simply watching and then leaving without a word. She had an air of inquisition; like nothing said to her was safe from being fully examined and scrutinized. It had led to Gurney attempting to keep all of his interactions with her very brief, like she would somehow know things of him that he himself didn’t know and would sniff out something particularly displeasing that would have him removed from the Duke’s service. He’d seen the very thing happen to advisors who one day had been in very close conversation with the Duke, and the next were expelled due to the exposing of a more devious plot. He wished very deeply to never be on that side of her sharp bladed silver tongue.

Luckily, and a tad surprisingly, for him, the Marchioness’ disposition around trusted friends was much different from the air she held herself with professionally. He’d been surprised when, about six months into her service, she’d called him to accompany her. He’d adorned his entire ensemble, ready for whatever the lady might request, only to find out she wished to stroll in the gardens of the planet the royal family they were staying with on that particular journey. Gurney wasn’t sure how, or when, he had gained the good favor of his lady, but he was grateful for it nonetheless.

Part of him felt some shame when he realized he’d expected her to be much colder. He’d only been used to seeing her in stuffy meeting rooms with a back as straight as a needle or in her offices writing furiously within her journals. This first day of leisure when he accompanied her allowed him to realize for the first time after an embarrassing amount of years, that Lady Moira Atreides was a woman who had found herself in her position merely by the chance of the universe. And that that position often left her in solitude far from the comforts of home. Despite the fact that that day in the garden’s he had done nothing but stand by her side and offer his gruff responses to her comments, she had decided that he was to be not just her colleague and guard, but her friend.

Looking back, he sometimes wished it wasn’t so; wished that he had been meaner despite how difficult it was to be mean to her. Then he would not find himself in her close proximity as often as he did. Then he would not know the feeling of her hand on his as she tries to get his attention. He wouldn’t know the feeling of her soft hair that sunlight soaked into as he moved it out of the way to adjust her necklace upon her request. Gurney found himself wishing he did not know of her softness so that he would not need to deal with its absence. He felt shrouded in shame as he knew his affections had surpassed those appropriate for a Warmaster and his Lady. Even breathing the same air as her felt like a vice.

Gurney couldn’t find the will to be surprised as the universe taunted him now and laughed in his face. Not even five minutes into his walk and he spots the Lady Moira. She stands alone in one of the vast corridors of Castle Caladan, only lined with windows that look out upon the oceans and cliffs of the planet. Her hair, usually woven up into various braids, now fell loose, like an inky,waving waterfall all the way down her back and to her hips. The Marchioness was shrouded in a thick, intricate robe. She didn’t seem to see the Warmaster, her dark brows furrowed in pensive thought. She always seemed to look that way when she thought nobody was looking; like worry had been etched into her face and the weight of her unsaid thoughts weighed upon her shoulders.

He tries to give a slight cough before speaking so as not to startle her too much, “are you unable to sleep, my Lady?”

Gurney hears the small, sharp intake of her breath as she turns to look at him, visibly relaxing a touch when she sees him, “Oh, Gurney. I apologize, I didn’t see you,” she turns her eyes back to the window, “yes I’ve had trouble finding sleep. Too much on my mind from the journey I suppose..” her words trailed off, like her mind was elsewhere.

He nodded in understanding and took only a few steps toward her, “me as well, my Lady. It is always difficult to find our footing again,” she nods and tries to give him a slight smile in reply, but the action is a forced one. The woman hadn’t been able to scrub the look of concern off her features, “If I may be so bold, my Lady, what is it that troubles you..?”

“It’s nothing you need to concern yourself with, Gurney.”

“But if it would ease your mind then-”

“It’s nothing,” she says firmly, cutting him off. Hardly a few seconds can pass before he sees the regret fill her eyes with the way she had spoken to him. She breathes in and continues, “I am fine, I promise. I thank you for your concern, Warmaster Halleck,” Despite her tone easing, he doesn’t miss the remaining tension in her shoulders, nor the fresh irritated skin of her fingers as she wrings her hands together. But Gurney knows better than to push the matter further and simply nods.

A silence resonates between them before Gurney speaks again, “may I join you, my Lady?” Even with the torment it will no doubt bring him, he cannot deny himself the blessing of her presence.

This brings a soft smile to Moira’s face, “you know you needn’t ever request a place by my side, Gurney. You always have it”

Gurney cannot resist the twitch at the corner of his lips at her reply as he moves closer to her, “I always find it a good practice to ask. I’d never wish to offend you.”

Moira laughs softly, “I doubt you could ever offend me, Gurney Halleck,” his palms betray him as they grow sweaty, “if anything, I’d be offended that you’d think me so self important that I’d refuse,” a glint of moonlight twinkles in her deep eyes as she looks to him.

Her teasing encouraged him to relax. He knew the one thing that the Lady despised was when people neglected to speak freely or joke with her because of her status, “You simply surprise me that you find my company enjoyable, my Lady.”

“And why wouldn’t I?”

Gurney couldn’t resist a chuckle at her question, “I am a difficult and stubborn old man. I can be crude in my tongue and set in my ways. Many consider me a rather woeful form of company.”

She does not deny him, a simple laugh of acknowledgement leaving her which he assumes will be the end of her reply before she tacks on, “but not to me.”

But not to me

Gurney can not find a reply as his tongue lays dry in his mouth. He hopes that his decision to leave her words ringing in silence seems like an intentional one, and not an obvious result of her leaving him with no amiable response.

Luckily for him, Moira seems content standing in silence for the next few minutes before she pipes up, “I really should go to bed. Thank you for keeping me company, Sir Halleck. Would you be willing to accompany me back to my room?

Yes.

“Should that please you, my Lady.”

Moira wordlessly links her arm with his like she had many times across many planets as he guides her through the familiar halls of the castle. Gurney finds himself hoping that his rigidity is one of the features his Lady is pleased with about him.

When they reach the large wooden doors of the Marchioness’ chambers she slips her arm out of his and moves to open her door, but stops to look at the Warmaster, “please do find rest tonight, Sir Halleck. Our world is not one that allows for much of it,” he sees that flash of worry flick in her eyes but he simply nods with a slight bow and bids her goodnight.

Gurney cannot rid himself of the feeling of the weight of her arm resting on his own the entire way back to his chambers.

#gurney halleck x oc #gurney halleck fanfic #Gurney Halleck x Original Female character #Gurney Halleck x Original Character #dune fanfic #gurney halleck #dune movie #dune #dune part 2 #dune part two

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liminalpebble · 1 year

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Violet: Chapter 1, Providence

Masterlist Link

Summary: The solitary Reverend Ransome leaves the empty nest of his home in Essex, beginning his life as a professor in London. His expectation of a contemplative religious life as a pious widower is complicated by an odd and alluring foreign student, Violetta Vespero. How can the conflicted vicar keep his gaze and worship skyward with such delicious temptations before him on Earth?

Will Ransome (The Essex Serpent) x Original Female Character

CW: Sacrilege all over the place, slow Burn to smut, angst, multi-parter, probably pretty historically inaccurate

Chapter 1: Providence

Will reclined in his modest room in the spartan London seminary. He had trouble sleeping in the sea of noise that roiled in the city streets every night. It was a shock to him after the quiet countryside of Essex, but he couldn't stay in that home any longer. The emptiness of it after all the life it contained was too much to bear. Stella, his beautiful delicate blue star of the sea had returned to her maker. Cora had abandoned him for a life of chasing after her fossils; her Biblical monsters buried in the clay of creation, though Cora would never think of it that way.

And the children...his beloved precocious precious children were adults now, living adventurous lives of discovery, growing into the full forms of themselves. How he missed the weight of them in his arms as he read to them when they were small. It seemed like eons ago now, and he was beginning to feel like one of Cora's skeletal beasts, buried under the sands of time.

So it was that the reverend found himself nearing the age of fifty, walking the floorboards of an empty house which once held the footprints of so many. It felt as if everyone he loved had moved on to new places and adventures to fuel their curiosity except for him. He pondered, in his little dormitory room, how he ended up here, and why. What was it he really wanted?

It seemed like an act of providence when his friend from divinity school, Father Grant, visiting one rainy day, offered a position at a ladies' college in London.

“It shouldn't be difficult work for a clever mind like yours, Will,” said Father Grant. “They're looking for a well-educated man of good character to teach the classics, literature, humanities, divinity...perhaps also foreign languages.”

“I'm not Catholic, Paul.” Will said, his deep voice almost a croak from lack of use. Aside from his hour at the pulpit every Sunday, Will cloistered himself these days, giving up his walks to visit parishioners, in favor of solitary ones in the salt air to nurse his loneliness.

“It doesn't matter, Will. These damn Jesuits are in favor of scholarly advancement and a diversity of teachers, regardless of sect. They now welcome professors with open arms so long as they show fair enough morals and credentials,” Paul huffed as if it was all an annoyance to him, but Reverend Ransome smiled, knowing his friend to be progressive and enlightened at heart, just glad for a chance to grumble.

“You said it wouldn't be difficult. It sounds like their standards are quite high.”

“Well yes, but the students are all women. Docile delicate things, either preparing themselves to be entertaining trophies for rich husbands, or readying themselves for the convent and teaching brats in the Lord's service.”

“Paul,” Will said disapprovingly, “Shame on you for being so dismissive of women. The world is progressing past such notions. Watch out, lest it leave you behind.”

Father Grant gave a deep belly laugh. “Me, Will? I think you have to worry about that a good deal more than I do.”

Ransome tapped his teacup back down with defeat and realized, begrudgingly, that his old friend was very right. By the time Grant left, Will had shaken his hand and found himself preparing to enter a new life in the city.

Now, here he was, laying in his uncomfortable bunk, in his private room, kept awake by the city noise and nervous for his first day of teaching.

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#lusty vicarettes #will ransome #will ransome fic #the essex serpent #sas

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sunnyie-eve · 2 years

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Deserve Love || Childhood Friends

Paring: Prince Paul (Catherine the Great 2019) x Original female character

Word Count: 2896

Summary: Prince Paul is finally of maturity age and needs a wife

Warnings: arrange marriages, hidden feelings, jealousy

Next: Oblivious

"Your Majesty." I bow as she walks by me. "Lilia, shouldn't you be waiting with Paul?" She gives me a look with a smile. "Yes, your Majesty." I nod my head leaving to go find Paul. "Where were you?" Paul says as I join him. "Walking around." I say looking straight ahead waiting for his mother to come out. When she comes out to talk we listen to her speech. "That didn't go down well." I hear Paul tells Minister Panin. I huff while trying to ignore their conversation.

"You know what I find amusing?" Paul says as we walk around the fountain back at the palace. "What do you find amusing Prince Paul?" I ask looking back at him as I walk ahead of him. "My mother can't stand German's, yet she's German, and thus she adores you, who is half German." He says as we stop walking. "I'm sure it's because I'm half Russian as well and that's enough for her. My mother didn't want to be married to my father, nor did she like being a princess, so she ran off with me to here when I was five. She was friends with your mother before passing so that gives me another advantage." I explain to him.

"Wait, so you're a princess? You've known this how long?" He narrows his eyes at me. "My whole life. When I turned 16 my father found me. He's glad I'm living well here but at times wants me to visit home. So that's where I go off to at times." I give him a smile. "Does my mother know?" He asks. "Not to my knowledge. I haven't told her." I continue to walk again. "Why not? It would make that joke of us growing up and getting married at the right age even funnier." He laughs walking beside me. "As you said, joke... Paul." I laugh. "I don't think my mother finds it as a joke." He scoffs as we stop again making me sigh. "Don't worry, I know you would never marry me Paul." I walk off of from him. "I didn't mean it in a cruel way, Lilia. It's just we're childhood friends." He chases after me. "I know. That's why I said don't worry. Now excuse me, it's my reading time." I give him a smile walking off. "Lady Lilia, a letter." Peter hands me so I take it.

"Dear Lilia, to keep a promise your mother once made. You are to marry my sweet boy, Andrei Razumovsky sometime after you become 19." I rip the letter up since I actually couldn't stand him but of course my mother had to go make a handwritten promise.

"Oh, there's an official explanation? You probably drafted it. Hemorrhoidal colic, wasn't that it? Terminal piles. My God, I hate her." I hear Paul as I walk near his room. "Excuse me, but you might want to speak with closed doors or anyone can hear your conversation." I speak up standing in the door way making the two look at me. "Lilia..." Paul eyes me. "I thought I'd let you know. Might I add, that isn't near suitable for your coming of age ceremony." I motion to his coat before continuing my way. As I make my way down the stairs Catherine was coming up so I stop aside bowing to her. "Your Majesty." She stops in front of me. "Don't you look lovely, Lilia. Paul is lucky to have a friend as beautiful as you." She smiles then continues her way up the stairs.

"There is no lie there." Peter pops up out of nowhere causing me to roll my eyes. "What isn't a lie?" I continue my way down. "You being beautiful, of course." He follows me. "I thought you, like many, have a thing for Her Majesty? Oh, yes. I can see it." I smile back at him. "Can I not find you beautiful as well Lady Lilia?" He gets in front of me. "I suppose you can." I try to move around him. "Lady Lilia..." Countess Bruce shows up. "Excuse me, Zavadovsky." I nod my head going over to Countess Bruce with a smile.

When we arrive for Paul's coming of age ceremony, I walk with Her Majesty and Countess Bruce. "Why is my son so unattractive?" She asks looking over at him but I of course didn't think that. "It may be something to do with his father. The Emperor Peter was the ugliest man east of Berlin." Countess Bruce tells her while I keep quiet standing next to them. "Yes, and now Paul wants to be emperor too... The moment he was born my mother in law took him away from me. She left me on the floor, bathed in my own blood and sweat. From that point on... I really never saw him." The Empress says as Lieutenant Potemkin comes up.

As they talk about other things I watch Paul from where I stood. "Lilia, why don't you go over to Paul." Her Majesty tells me so I nod my head going over to him. "Prince Paul." I say in a joking tone. "Now that you are coming of age, how shall I approach you?" I laugh at him. "No different than before." I catch his eyes look down for just a second making me laugh. "What?" He asks annoyed. "Watch your eyes, sir. I thought we were friends?" I tell him. "We are and it's not my fault you decided to suddenly show off. Who are you trying to impress?" He rants making me laugh more, "I'm not trying to impress anyone because there is no one to impress. And I'm not trying to show off. The dress doesn't fit all the way if they were in more, so the ladies worked around it." I explain to him.

"Your mother would like to speak with you after the ceremony." Minister Panin comes to tell Paul making him sigh before we all head inside. During the ceremony and many different ceremonies and speeches, I sometimes zoned out because they were never interesting. Back at the Palace I wanted to change into a different dress but I had to wear it to dinner later. "I hate that women." Paul bust into my room as I read a book. "Yes, yes, you may come in." I motion for him to come in. "What now?" I set my book down on the table. "I am the heir to the Russian throne... One day. I've reach my maturity. I should get married. Run along and think about beautiful women." He paces around the room before falling back onto my bed.

"She tells you to go think about beautiful women yet here you are complaining to me? I feel so honored." I get up going over to him. "Shut up, Lilia." He groans making me laugh sitting on the bed next to him. "What if we go along with that joke? If I marry you, I at least know what I'm dealing with." He sits up leaving his wig behind. "You know she'll want a grandchild at some point after right?" I hand him his wig but he throws it across the room before falling back to lay down. "I'm sure you will have no troubles finding a wife. And what women would say no to you?" I lay back turning my head to look at him. "My best friend." He looks at me making me laugh. "Please sit up before I see something I don't wanna see." He sits up and pulls me to sit up too. "Even though we are friends... you're still a man. Trust me, you would end up liking what you see." I joke standing up going to get his wig. "You still have your birthday dinner." I put it back on him nicely.

"If we had to get married... how would you react?" He asks as I touch up the wig. "Glad it's with someone I know but then freak out about things farther down the line." I walk over to sit back down to read my book. "Do you think your father will make you marry someone?" He sits across from me. "Paul you know woman don't have a choice when it comes to arrange marriages. My father could easily marry me off with some man I don't know and my mother already has promised someone." I sigh opening my book. "Who!" He stands up shouting. "Count-," I was cut off by a servant who said it's time to go to the dinning room.

"To my son on his birthday in the expectation of wisdom! To Paul." His mother stands up at the end of the table. "To Paul." We cheer and I reach over to pat his arm. "Now, you may have noticed there is an empty chair. I have invited one of the brightest and best of our young men, and he's late! Ah, bon appétit!" She says as the food comes up to the table. As we seat her guest shows up making us all look his direction. "Lieutenant Potemkin, at last." She tells him. "I am so sorry to be late, Your Majesty." He tells her going to his seat. "Well, you look quite ravishing." She says making Paul give me a look. "Behave." I mouth to him so he eyes his mother. "Paul..." I lean over slapping his leg.

After dinner I was relieved to finally get my dress off of me, "Lilia!" Paul busts into my room again making me cover myself up as I change. "Would you knock!" I hide myself. "Sorry." He apologizes. "What do you want now?" I ask coming out dressed fully now. "Nothing." He tells me. "Then why are you here? It's been a long day and I'm ready to rest." I pull back the covers on my bed. "Can you come bore me to sleep?" He asks with a smile. "You turn nineteen today and still want me to read so you'll fall asleep?" I give him a look. "As much as I hate to say it, yes. Since I was six you have always done so..." We just stare at each other. "I am the Prince and you will do as I say so come along." He leaves my room. "You're such a pain, Paul." I grab a book following him.

"Lilia, may I have a word with you around outside?" Catherine stops me as I come into the Palace from seeing Count Razumovsky. "Yes, Your Majesty." I bow following her. "I remember watching you and Paul running away from the servants like it was just yesterday." She smiles over at me. "We did like to cause trouble for them." I agree with a smile. "Growing up you two said you'd always get married some day..." She stops giving me a look. "It was just a joke, Your Majesty." I let her know. "But you two would be so perfect together. I also hear you are a princess. Why didn't you tell me?" She tilts her head. "Umm, who told you?" I ask. "Your father had sent me a letter." She says making me sigh. "Your Majesty, I can't marry Prince Paul. My mother had hand written a promise to Count Razumovsky mother and father. His mother is already planning the wedding. As of today, we are engaged..." I let her know.

"Count Razumovsky... Maybe if I pull some strings so it can be called off. I'm sure you would be better off with Paul." She starts to walk away. "Your Majesty... It was the last thing my mother promised before she passed away. I have to fulfill her wishes..." I rush after her. "Is that what you want?" She turns to me. "I don't really have a choice. Can you do me a favor?" I ask her so she nods her head. "Don't tell Paul..." I ask her. "Of course, dear. Now you have made my job harder finding a wife for my son now." She laughs leaving me. I turn around throwing my head back as I walk back inside the palace. I didn't know why I didn't want Paul to know. I know it wouldn't bother him. I guess I just didn't think it was any of his business to know about it.

"Another letter, Lilia." Peter shows up. "From your fiancé, I'm told." He gives me a look. "Can you please not say that out loud?" I snatch the letter from him. "My apologizes." He follows me as I continue my way. "Don't you have other things to do? Places to be?" I ask looking back at him. "Why do you want me to be quiet about it?" He asks making me turn to face him. "Because it's no one's business. Now go back to work." I make my way to my room with him still following me. "Peter!" I growl at him. "I have no work at the moment. Can't I talk to a friend?" He carefully takes off his wig to scratch his head once we get to my room. "I don't remember ever discussing us being friends." I tell him. "We go by first names which means we're friends." He walks up to me which means he had to look down at me. "I hate being so formal with certain people." I look up at him.

"Stop giving me that look." I place my hand on his chest to move him back as Paul comes into my room like always, "So I'm told mother is letting everyone know I need a wife!" He shouts than sees Peter. "Don't you have work?" He asks so Peter puts his wig back on leaving. "What was he doing in here?" Paul comes over. "Just giving me a letter." I smile. "From your father?" He asks. "Yes." I lie. "What does it say?" He asks. "Nothing important." I go put it in a box to lock away. "Oh, you know my friend Count Razumovsky... I hear he's getting married. That poor woman." He chuckles talking a seat on the sofa. "Yes, poor me..." I mumble. "Huh?" He looks over at me. "I said poor her." I take a seat on the other sofa.

"Remember when we used to run away from the servants because we didn't want to stop playing together?" He gets up coming to sit next to me. "And when they finally got us to our own rooms it didn't stop us. I always snuck to yours in the middle of the night and you would be waiting for me." I smile thinking back. "They hated us." He laughs. "Especially when we pretended to have husband and wife fights. All the screaming at each other we did." I laugh. "I miss when we were young... When my father was alive. It was easier then." He takes my hand into his. "I miss it too." I look at our hands. "Why don't you want to marry me?" Paul asks looking at me. "Why do you act like you want me to?"

"To keep my best friend around and..." He lets go of my hand leaning slightly closer to me. "Daring, I'm here!" We look over at the doorway to see Count Razumovsky. "Andrei..." I stand up first, "Why didn't you tell me you were coming?" I walk over to him. "I thought I wrote it in the letter. Has it not come yet?" He asks kissing my cheek. "It did. I just haven't had the chance to read it yet. Paul was just asking me about what to look for in a wife." I lie to him. "Then you should be a help becoming a wife soon yourself." He smiles confusing Paul. "Wife soon?" He gets up coming over to us. "Lilia hasn't told you yet? We're getting married. My mother is planning the wedding." Paul just looks at me turning red. "Can I have a word with Lilia?" Paul grabs my wrist dragging me away from Andrei.

"You're marrying him?" He shouts pulling me into an empty room. "I didn't have a choice Paul! My mother promised his parents before she died. She wrote it out." I explain to him. "My mother could have convened them to call it off! How could you marry him and not take mothers offer?" His face gets more red. "Stop acting so upset that you don't get to marry me Paul! You said yourself, we're childhood friends. It was a joke growing up. It was all pretend to us then." I sigh. "It wasn't pretend to me or a joke. When I was a little boy, I couldn't wait for the day for us to get older and actually get married!" He shouts at me. "Now we're at that age and it isn't going the way I want it to." He tells me. "Paul... I can't marry you. Even if I wanted to, I can't. She signed a promise." I walk up to him. "Just say no." He cups one of my cheeks. "That's not how it works for us. You wouldn't understand being a man."

#joseph quinn #catherine the great #prince paul #joseph quinn imagine #joseph quinn fanfiction #18th century

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thenookienostradamus · 2 months

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20 questions for fic writers

Okay so this one looks insanely fun; I couldn't not hop on board. Tagged by the fantastic @nocompromise-noregrets. These are some juicy questions!

1. How many works do you have on Ao3? 45. Oh shit I just realized I have one fic for each year of my life.

2. What’s your total Ao3 word count? 957,606

3. What fandoms do you write for? Many of the ones I have written for I don't anymore, but I've written for some enormous fandoms like Hannibal, Tolkien/Silmarillion, Star Wars, Sherlock, and SPN, a couple biggish ones (Detroit: Become Human , Midnight Mass, and Foundation -TV), and a shitload of tiny fandoms including The Alienist (TV), The Following, True Detective, The Exorcist (TV), and Preacher (TV).

4. What are your top five fics by kudos? Cernunnos (Hannibal) - 1,189; Misericorde (Hannibal) - 727; Exit Music (D:BH) - 716; The Detective Doth Protest Too Much (D:BH) - 638; The Stolen Prey (Hannibal) - 579.

5. Do you respond to comments? Yes! It's super important to me to take time and thank people who have commented. Also I'm not super crazy popular so I don't get a shit-ton of comments anyway. They're all gems!

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Hm. Most likely Nightmare Angel, my lone Supernatural fic which nobody reads because I kill Dean and send Sam on an automobile-assisted vengeance quest. Listen, it's a book-based AU and the book isn't exactly the happiest.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Probably This Night at the Edge of the World, which is a surprisingly poignant modern AU take on a Star Wars crack ship. Matt the fucking Radar Technician. Who knew?

8. Do you get hate on fics? Rarely. I've gotten a couple of comments along the lines of "Why didn't you do x?" or "If this was my fic I would have..." and I've found that a lot of those come from people who are well intentioned but possibly neurodivergent, so I try to be kind.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Yep. All but 8 of my fics are Explicit-rated. Not sure what is meant by "what kind" - but like...hopefully the sexy kind? This is a reflection of the reason why I read fanfic. If I want character development, an engrossing story, an ingenious plot, whatever, I read original fiction. If I want to read about make-believe people banging, I read fic. I don't like longfic or romance or slow burn or whatever. Reading fic, for me, is purely for horndog reasons.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? I guess the closest I've come to that is the Techienician ship, AKA Matt the Radar Technician (Adam Driver's undercover Star Wars character from a Saturday Night Live sketch) x Techie from Dredd (2012) as played by Domhnall Gleeson.

11. (there doesn't seem to be a question 11) Free space! I am loving the recent proliferation of interesting, complicated female characters in media!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Uh. I think so? Not sure if it was on AO3, though.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? Tons of them, actually. Which is weird because I typically like to write alone. But I've had some amazing collabs. I cowrote one of my Following fics with a friend (we've since lost touch). I wrote a crackfic called It's Hard Out There for a Balrog for a reverse bang, collaborating with @melkors-big-tits and his ridiculously amazing art and awesome ideas. My fave collab, of course, was the extraordinarily cracky Kylux holiday fic, Merry Huxmas, which I co-wrote with my sister, @gefionne.

14. What’s your all time favorite ship? Uh...I don't really have an all-time favorite. Just whatever is occupying my mind at the time.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? I'm not entirely sure I'll ever finish The Unresisting Heart, which is a Maglor/Sauron fic. It was an experiment in style and I enjoyed it, but I'm not sure I'm in the frame of mind to finish. I keep telling myself I'll finish In Eorum Nominibus, my Midnight Mass Riley/Father Paul fic. But again...not sure.

16. What are your writing strengths? Characterization, probably. I'm pretty decent at putting together a plot with a lot of moving pieces. Dialogue. Also making things not read like fanfic.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? I sometimes miss opportunities for character interiority, especially with a fast-moving plot. I try not to, but my writing is vague sometimes. I don't particularly think it's a weakness, but fic readers love flowery, pretty language and I refuse to write that way.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? Largely unnecessary. If you do, translate. But throwing words from another language in makes you sound like a non-native speaker trying to appear cool. If you're fluent in another language, why not just write in that language, too?

19. First fandom you wrote for? Well, if you don't count Mary Sue stories written in a spiral notebook before the computer era, probably The Matrix. Revolutions, specifically. It's not posted. It will never be posted.

20. Favourite fic you’ve written? Exit Music. Because its totally invented AU plot went on to inspire an original novel that may or may not be published before I die. People really do not want to read "unlikeable female characters." Sigh.

Tagging some new friends, including @mycapeisplaid and @madsmilfelsen, plus some beloved old friends: @thefangirlibrarian, @niennawept, @ruiniel, @i-did-not-mean-to, @cilil, and the obligatory @gefionne because she has the same parents as I do and also because she's awesome.

#fic #writing #tag game #fanfiction #fic asks

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swindlefingrs · 1 year

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🌕 Linden Wood Icons: Chapter 6

Word Count: 1.6k Characters: Beth, Father Paul Hill Relationships: Father Paul x Original Female Character Rating: Mature

The rumble fills his ears again, louder than before, and he promises God that he will confess to the sense of pride swelling inside him. A shudder runs the length of him as she presses her fingers deeper into his mouth. Filling his throat. “Good boy,” she growls.

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alexagirlie · 2 years

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Hello Folks!

I’m the creator of @dunefandomevents and we are currently in the home stretch of the first Dune Mini Bang Event! I’m paired up with the amazing Ava151! Here is a little sneak peak from the story she has written Pairing is Paul Atreides x Original Female Character Aoife

...” Ever since the Reverend Mother’s reveal, he had been trying to avoid Aoife as much as possible, which was obviously impossible on their own wedding day. He let his eyes take in the water rings, the Fremen sign of togetherness, and then he moved his gaze downwards to the embroidered animals on her white gown, and finally towards her belly. The bump was already showing there. And he wasn’t sure which of his feelings was dominant. The exhilarating thought of becoming a father? Or the excruciating pain of realizing why the child had been conceived in the first place...” Art will be my me!

#kirstinsarttag #duneminibang2022 #Dune Fandom #Dune Fanart #Dune Fanfiction

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ao3feed-midnightmass · 7 months

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A Collection of Father Paul x Reader Drabbles

by CopiArion These are just a collection of the various drabbles I have written about Father Paul. Some were submitted as prompts on my tumblr by anonymous users, otherwise the submission will be credited. Feel free to submit your own! https://www.tumblr.com/new/ask/cardinal-copiarion Words: 5166, Chapters: 12/?, Language: English Fandoms: Midnight Mass (TV) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: F/M Characters: Father Paul Hill | Monsignor John Pruitt Relationships: Father Paul Hill | Monsignor John Pruitt/Original Female Character(s), Father Paul Hill | Monsignor John Pruitt/You, Father Paul Hill | Monsignor John Pruitt/Reader Additional Tags: Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Pegging, Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus, First Time, Priest Kink, Priests, Vampire Sex, Blood, Blood As Lube, Drabble Collection October 30, 2023 at 08:30AM Read it on Ao3 » https://archiveofourown.org/works/51225067 ✞ Don’t forget to leave kudos and comments to let the author know you enjoyed their work ✞

#ao3feed-midnightmass #midnight mass #midnight mass fanfiction #ao3 #ao3feed

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welcometothecrockpot · 2 years

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This story is so much fun to write, welcome to the little world in my head! I hope whoever reads enjoys it and feedback/reblogs are always appreciated! ❤️

Father Paul/John Pruitt x original character

Multi chapter WIP, horror/drama, romance

Chapter 3 of 7- 4,211 words, warnings- religious imagery, mentions of chronic illness, parental abandonment, canon consistent violence, gore and death

<- chapter 2

[3]

Spring had begun to make its presence known in the little buds on the trees and that certain freshness in the air. Every year the Earth reawakened from a long winter’s slumber, greeting all of its inhabitants with new life. It was Meredith’s favorite time of year, and nothing could beat a Crockett Island spring in her mind. But this year’s renewal was different. The branches bore strange fruit that tasted sweet but left a lingering bitterness, a slight aversion, but it didn’t keep from letting that enticing nectar drip down one’s chin.

The memorial for Mildred Gunning took place right on the coattails of the tragedy at the pot luck. It was the only evening that week to be shrouded by clouds. The small community that knew her well stood out beneath the grey sky and bowed their heads while her daughter Sarah dedicated the newly named Mildred Gunning Memorial Recreation Center. Meredith took her aunt’s hand while somber voices rose up to the clouds, carrying the words to Nearer My God to Thee. All voices except Father Paul’s, who stood quietly with a bible in his hands, staring at the letters on the sign.

Days went by and Meredith had been keeping to herself, avoiding even her aunt while she processed everything that’d happened in the short time since she arrived. She still tried to make sense of it, though had made little progress on that. So far, her homecoming had only brought death and uncertainty. Her examination on Pike and the samples she sent to the mainland were enough to confirm he was poisoned. Her heart ached for Joe, knowing how alone he must feel, especially now. Even still, her thoughts inevitably turned to Paul. She thought about what he said, that she had a wonderful skill, that she healed God’s creatures. It twisted a knot in her stomach in a strange clash of excitement and guilt.

It was long after dark when she stayed late at the clinic, unboxing the first shipment of her supplies that had arrived. She ran a box cutter along the length of tape sealing the last package when it slipped and she hissed through her teeth, dropping the tool on the floor. Looking at her stinging forefinger, she muttered a curse while a trail of blood welled from a cut in her skin. She went to the sink and ran it under the cool water before reaching for a towel, wincing while she held pressure on it.

Then she became still for a moment, looking up from her injured hand to listen in the otherwise silent room. She wasn’t sure if she heard something or if she was just being jumpy again, but there it was, she heard it again. It was a heavy thump coming from above her head. Her heart began to beat faster as she tilted her gaze to the ceiling. It creaked as if buckling under some great weight, going from one end to the other until there was a soft thud on the ground outside. She gripped her hand tightly as she slowly approached the window, her breath constricted and shallow.

It’s nothing, you’re hearing thingsran through her head, over and over until she leaned in toward the cold glass and all thought ceased while she scanned the darkened landscape outside. The dim streetlights cast ghostly shadows over the grass, bending slightly in a passing breeze, but all else was still. Backing away from the window, she let herself breathe easier while she tended to her cut, but her heart still pounded in her chest until she made herself stop looking toward the window from the corner of her eye.

The persistent shiver creeping along her back was all she could focus on, and it kept her from opening the door while she stood in front of it, near midnight by the time she was ready to make her way home. She blinked at the knob before letting out a short huff and turning away. An improvised bed of bubble wrap and cardboard would have to do for the night. She felt silly, somewhat embarrassed. There was no one there to witness her impromptu sleep over, of course, but the feeling stuck around nonetheless until her eyelids began to feel heavy. She stared at the ceiling, head resting on a pillow of packing material and her coat laid over her as a blanket, eyes half closed while her thoughts started to drift.

Up ahead in the fog of early morning, she saw something on the ground, a figure with its back to her. Her feet didn’t make any noise when she quickly approached it before reaching out a hand to turn it over. Joe Collie coughed and sputtered, blood pouring from his mouth. His eyes locked with hers, empty, like he was looking through her. She held on to him, shouting and screaming as he began to shake and shudder, but her voice was silent. No matter how hard she tried, he couldn’t hear her.

Meredith’s eyes flew open to see the glow of the sun casting golden shadows on the ceiling. She forced deep breaths in to quell her distressed panting and threw her arm over her eyes until a long sigh finally rendered her still. Nightmares were never really something she’d had as a child. Must have been making up for lost time. Rolling off of her stack of cardboard, she stretched and cleared the last of her fitful nights sleep from her throat. It was bound to be a long day.

“Hello? Auntie?”

Her voice echoed through the empty house before Meredith pulled her key out of the door and shut it behind her. A little flutter of anxiety followed her around while she peered into each room, but Aunt Carolyn wasn’t home. Pulling it from her pocket, her phone screen lit up in her hand, and her posture relaxed. It was Sunday.

The quiet in the house brought some semblance of peace to her troubled mind while she went through the motions of showering and brushing her teeth, the shadows on the living room wall steadily gaining height. She leaned in toward the bathroom mirror to examine the sleepless dark circles under her eyes, blinking at the reflection until she heard the door open, and her aunt call out her name.

“In here!”

Quickly splashing a cupped handful of cold water onto her face, she grabbed a towel and patted it dry before stepping out into the living room.

“Meredith! A miracle, it’s a miracle!” Carolyn’s voice trembled while she spoke, stains of tears all down her smiling face.

Her heart leapt into her throat before Meredith hurried toward her aunt who gripped the kitchen counter to steady herself. Pulling up a chair for her to sit in, she replied, “What? Are you ok?”

“Oh, sweetie, I’m more that ok!” She gazed up at her niece, her eyes alive with something she’d never seen in them before, and said, “Leeza, she can walk.”

Meredith’s face must have reflected her confusion, Aunt Carolyn then rushing to explain herself, “At Mass, just now! Communion, Father Paul, he- she stood from her chair to receive the sacrament!”

Her cheeks heated up at the mention of Father Paul. “Auntie… I-”

She paused. Was this it? The start of it? She knew the time would come when her aunt would fade into someone she no longer knew, but not this soon.

“You don’t believe me.” When Meredith blinked, the light in Carolyn’s eyes had dwindled and she said to her niece, “I know. I know that faith is something you and I have never seen eye to eye on. But, dear, when I tell you that Leeza is walking, it is regardless of anyone’s faith.”

She was serious. It was still her. Her mind was still very much her own and she convinced Meredith to walk to the church to see for herself. A miracle. Miracles were supposed to be tangible, but unexplainable and not repeatable. Then how was anyone expected to believe? At least that was what miracles meant to her. All she had been taught for years was to believe in what was testable, repeatable, proven. Miracle was just a word for something that hadn’t been proven yet.

There was a small crowd gathered in front of the rectory when Meredith approached, the doors of the empty church left open. Standing on the porch in front of the crowd with her characteristic braid tossed over her shoulder was Beverly Keane, a woman who made sure her faith was never in question. It was this fact that caused her to famously butt heads with Aunt Carolyn on more than one occasion. Yet despite her openly devout nature, her intolerance of Joe Collie and his less than virtuous habits was well known. In fact, he was certain Bev was the one to poison Pike and Meredith couldn’t necessarily disagree with him. Needless to say, she was not a person Meredith held in high esteem and was just about to turn around while she still had the chance when Bev disappeared into the rectory.

A strange feeling tugged on her guts when she thought about her being in there with Father Paul and she quickly swallowed it down when she saw Annie Flynn approaching from the dispersing group.

“Meredith! Did your aunt tell you?”

She had the same light in her eyes when she spoke and Meredith’s heart fluttered before she answered, “She did. She- she told me…”

Her voice trailed off while she stared at the beaming woman’s face. Something wasn’t allowing her to believe it, like she was having one of her dreams and everyone was awake but her. Unphased by Meredith’s blank stare, Misses Flynn replied, “A true miracle, honey. After all that we’ve suffered through, there’s hope.”

Meredith forced a big smile and nodded before returning the hug that Annie wrapped her in. Leeza’s father, the Mayor, and her mother had taken her to Doctor Gunning by the time Meredith arrived, so she’d taken everyone’s word for it, but couldn’t shake the doubt that weighed heavy on her shoulders. It wasn’t long before she was the only one left out on the church lawn, fidgeting with a rock under the toe of her boot after a polite nod and wave at Miss Keane when she quietly left the rectory. She turned toward her path home then stood silently with her hands in her jacket pockets, staring at the horizon. Going home to her aunt and hearing about this all evening was actually the last thing she wanted.

Noticing the church doors were still open, she turned away from the road and climbed the creaky wooden stairs instead. There was a certain peace to be had inside an empty church, like being alone but not quite all the way alone. Physically alone but not spiritually alone. She liked it better this way.

She walked slowly down the aisle, grazing her fingertips over the etched pattern on each pew as she passed. Her steps echoed off of the walls and ceiling and the air smelled like dust and candle wax. It struck a small spark of longing in her heart, a desire to go back to a time when proof wasn’t a burden she carried, just a child that could take things at face value. What if she could just do that? Just step outside her own head and live like that? Meredith blinked at the crucifix staring down at her with vacant eyes. Going back wasn’t an option. Sentimentality never got her anywhere, anyway.

After disrupting her own moment of peace, she sighed and turned to leave, first laying eyes on the hallow confessional. How long had it been since she’d sat in there? The floor groaned beneath her feet as if it would swallow her up unless she treaded lightly toward the booth. Peering inside, it was mostly dark, the small seat and padded prayer bench just visible in the light cast through the lattice window to the other compartment. She felt a need to glance around the room before ducking inside, closing the door behind her.

Her weight sank onto the seat, and she breathed in the musty aroma of oak while her eyes adjusted to the lack of light. She wasn’t sure why she’d gone in there, still chasing after that moment of peace, she supposed. Her fingers toyed with the frayed edge of a hole in the upholstery they came across and she stayed quiet there in the dark, waiting for the murk in her head to settle. Then she heard something.

Her heart sped up like she’d been caught doing something she shouldn’t have, not exactly the child-like sentiment she was looking for. But she remained still, gripping the worn cushion, listening to the discreet footfall approaching the booth until the door latch on the other side clicked and the seat softly creaked. It was quiet for a moment except for the sound of steady breathing, and she moved only her eyes to try to look through the carved partition.

“I, uh, wasn’t sure if you wanted me in here.”

Father Paul’s gentle voice still startled her with a little jump in her seat that she hoped went unnoticed. The heat of embarrassment rising up her face, she stammered, “Oh! Father, I’m sorry. I was just- I don’t actually know. I-… I’m sorry.”

“No! No, it’s quite alright. I just- I’d hate to not be here, if you needed me.” He spoke with sincerity in a way that made Meredith’s cheeks burn even hotter and her knees press together.

“Thank you… I appreciate that,” she answered in a tone that was probably a little too familiar.

It was quiet again for a moment before Paul spoke up, “Should I… leave you alone then?”

“N-no you don’t, uhm, need to do that.”

Another minute, or maybe more, passed in silence while her heart pounded until he finally said, “Tell me what’s on your mind… if you’d like.”

She wondered if he could hear the little huff of breath that passed between her lips when she smiled before she swallowed and answered, “Ah- well… I suppose that’s what this place is for, isn’t it?”

He hummed in reply, and she found herself taking her lip between her teeth. “This is a safe space,” he said.

Grateful for both the partition and the low lighting, her face must’ve been beet red by then, she swallowed against the dryness in her throat once again. Something about this felt wrong, like she was overstepping some boundary. But the only person who set that boundary was her.

“Do I… say that- that, uh, forgive me thing?” she asked quietly, followed by internal cursing.

“Oh, well no that’s ok, we can just… talk. Unless you’d like to say it, of course.”

In the tone of his voice, she could tell he was smiling. A warmth bloomed in her chest, and she let out a soft, short laugh. “No that’s ok… maybe later though.”

His breathy chuckle from the other side of the booth sent her heart soaring and the tension she’d been holding melted. She swore to herself that she would stay away, but here he was, beckoning her closer. Not too close, just close enough.

“There has been a lot on my mind…”

He waited a moment after she trailed off before he replied, “Well, I’m happy to listen.”

After taking a rather shaky breath, she started to talk. “I heard about Leeza… I’m happy for her, I really am, but I just- I dunno. What a strange time to come home. I’ve been trying to make sense of everything, but I can’t.”

“Sometimes things just don’t make sense and they won’t, even if you will them to,” he answered softly.

Meredith quietly nodded to herself in that tiny booth. “I spend a lot of time doing that… trying to make sense of things that have no sense,” she said, a little misplaced levity in her voice. “It’s hard not to.”

He hummed in agreement, “Well, you have a scientific mind. Though brilliant, yes, it can make it difficult to live ordinary life.” Her face burned even hotter, and her throat tightened. It was happening again, but it was bound to, wasn’t it? She set herself up for it by indulging in this little semblance of intimacy. Did he know what this did to her? “Life isn’t ever ordinary though, is it?”

Fidgeting with the tattered cushion again, she answered quietly, “I guess not.”

“Why do you think you try to make sense of everything?”

She blinked at what was left of the slowly waning light and answered plainly, “Probably because of my mom.” Her statement hung in the air in front of her and she stared at it. She didn’t know where it came from, it just came out. “She left me with my aunt when I was three.”

Paul was quiet, waiting patiently in the dark for her to continue. “It never made sense. Aunt Carolyn, she never told me the whole story and I- I think it was to protect me but… I think it just made it worse.”

She listened to her own breathing, a bit faster, but easier and lighter. There was nothing else she could say. Her mind went quiet, eerily calm. Then Paul’s soothing voice from the other side of the booth said, “Some things won’t make sense and that- that’s ok.”

“Yeah, that’s ok.” Meredith shifted in her seat then slowly stood up to turn to the lattice window, locking eyes with Father Paul through the screen. He returned her smile in silent acknowledgement, remaining still while she quietly left the church, only the sound of the gulls accompanying her steps home.

After her encounter in the confessional, things began to change. Aunt Carolyn’s burn had healed completely in only days and not only that, but her tremors also stopped. Meredith thought maybe she was just having some good days but, her symptoms never came back. Weeks went by. She’d actually been getting around better than she had in years. Her own miracle, she said.

“I don’t know what to think,” Meredith said, placing her mug on the table in front of her.

Doctor Gunning thought for a moment before she asked, “She’s still taking her medications, right?”

“She told me yes but- I dunno.”

They sat in Sarah Gunning’s living room, adjacent to the clinic she ran from her home, a place where Aunt Carolyn had previously been visiting more often. “Well, it sounds like she’s been doing well. We started her on Amatadine last month, maybe we’re seeing the effects of that.”

“Maybe…” Meredith stared at the table, running her thumb over the rim of her mug before she continued, “She says it’s her miracle. That it’s- it’s because of Father Paul.”

Sarah nodded slowly, but the look on her face said she felt the same way about it that Meredith did. “Are you worried about that?”

“Well, a little. I mean, I know this isn’t what he’s doing, but it reminds me of those faith healers. The preachers on late night tv claiming they can cure people for donations. It’s so… predatory.”

“Has she given any money to the church?” Sarah asked, making eye contact with Meredith.

She blinked at her and answered, “No… no she hasn’t.”

“Keep an eye on her and keep going to Mass with her. Just in case. If things continue to seem… off or you confirm that she isn’t taking her meds, let me know how I can help.”

Once word of Leeza’s recovery got out, the pews at Saint Patrick’s held as many people as they could fit every week. Meredith was among them. Against her better judgement, she’d been attending Mass every Sunday with Aunt Carolyn, listening to Father Paul speak and watching the way his expressions conveyed his messages in a way that made her skin tingle every time. She knew it was wrong, but she couldn’t stop. She even wanted to take back what she just said about him.

It seemed like Doctor Gunning was one of the few people on the island with her head still on her shoulders. Meredith herself felt a certain pull to enter through those doors too, though her motives were very different from the rest. It was difficult to describe, something like the feeling you get at the top of a rollercoaster, right before dropping down that first hill. Her perilous attraction made sitting in that pew a thrill all on its own. But this week she opted not to go. Her dreams started up again, her dreams about him, dreams of being held in his embrace. She deprived herself of that thrill and instead, took the opportunity to meet with her aunt’s doctor while she attended Mass.

“Thank you.”

Sarah nodded with a small smile then her attention was directed to her phone ringing.

Meredith couldn’t help but hear say to whoever was on the other end of the call, “Is he conscious now?... Ok, good. Keep him there, don’t let him stand without help and I’ll be right there.” Then she hit the end call button on the screen and looked to Meredith, “Sorry. Duty calls.”

“Of course! Yeah, no problem,” Meredith answered, getting up from her chair. She knew she shouldn’t ask, but curiosity got the best of her. “Joe Collie?”

Sarah blinked at her before she decided to answer, “Well, speaking of Father Paul, he fainted during his homily.”

She heard it was some kind of flu and that he was ok, but Meredith couldn’t stop thinking about it. The one Sunday that she wasn’t there, something happened. She thought maybe if she was there, she could have helped. He probably didn’t want her help, though, and what could she have done anyway? All day her thoughts went in a self-destructive circle. Her feelings were a mixed up jumble of attraction and apprehension. To make things worse, the very nature of her suspicion made him that much more appealing. The air of mystery and occult, she realized had been drawing her closer all this time. Every time their eyes met across that church, it stoked the unusual fire growing hotter inside her.

It was too late by the time she found herself toeing dangerously over the line when she knocked on the rectory door just after dark that night. Her stomach churned while she waited on the porch in the crushing silence that followed. Perhaps he wasn’t there, but the lights on inside said otherwise. Her heart pounded when she leaned in closer to the door to listen, keeping her breath as quiet as she could. Still nothing. Her stomach sank and when she was about to turn back to leave, there was a crash on the other side of the door. Instinct took over and she reached for the knob, finding it unlocked, and the door swung open to reveal Father Paul trembling on the floor.

“No! No, no, no wait!”

Her hands gripped his face and he spit a mouthful of blood before starting to violently convulse in her hands with terror in his eyes. More and more bloody foam welled from his mouth while Meredith shouted his name and desperately tried to clear his airway. She turned him over on his side, but his gagging and choking only continued until he could no longer take in air and his movements ceased. This couldn’t be happening, not again, not him.

Desperation moved her to turn him on his back again and start compressions. Tears streamed down her face while she pushed on his chest, fluid trailing down from the corners of his mouth and the whites of his eyes gone bloodshot, empty. The room began to spin, the acidic smell of the bloody fluid overwhelming while she struggled to breathe between sobs. She’d taken his head in her lap, her hand stroking his clammy brow by the time Bev Keane and Mayor Wade Scarborough appeared in the doorway.

The only thing she could hear was the ringing in her own ears while Bev dropped to her knees and Mayor Scarborough stood frozen in shock. They fired questions at her, but she couldn’t answer and soon, the room fell silent. She blinked at the spot she’d been staring at on the floor. She remembered what he’d said to her, that there would be things that she’d never make sense of. She could ask why as much as she wanted, and it still wouldn’t make a difference.

Still cradling his head, Meredith swallowed against the tightness in her throat and quietly rasped, “Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name.”

She sniffed and closed her eyes before she continued, “Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth, as it- as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread and forgive us our trespasses… as we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into-”

Her prayer gave way to a startled scream when the dead man in her arms took a gasping breath, and everything changed.

#midnight mass fic #slow burn #wip #father paul x oc #father paul/original character #original female character #midnight mass #father paul #father paul fic #see listed warnings!

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blackleatherjacketz · 3 years

Text

Against My Vows

Father Paul x Original Female Character

Summary: Renee gets in over her head with Father Paul while visiting her parents.

Word Count: 1,876

Warning: Explicit Content, NSFW, Priest Kink

Tags: @skittle479 @letsby @likedovesinthewnd @hamish-linklaters @raggedy-dxctor @benedict-the-cumbercookie @plainlo-inthemorning @pruittjohn

Father Paul insisted that she come by the rectory after dinner, requesting to bless her hands before she went back on assignment to the mainland. She had participated in the ceremony before, once at graduation and at another hospital she’d worked at, but never with him. Sacraments and ceremonies seemed to be something totally different when he was involved.

She recalled going to mass the day before, how he made her feel when he poured the water over her feet in the name of God. How those chestnut eyes of his turned black as they darted over her naked calves, taking inventory of every freckle and imperfection on her skin. She remembered how he traced the outlines of her veins with the pads of his fingers, sending goosebumps up her thighs and into her belly. Most of all, she remembered those eyes getting lost in hers as his hands felt their way up well past her knees.

Now she was here, in his living room at his request. Clad only in his black shirt, white collar and skinny jeans, he seemed more approachable, more human than he was at mass. He smiled in her direction, immediately disarming her as she shut the door behind her. Should she tell him that she couldn’t sleep last night because she was thinking of him? Should she put herself out there to see if he felt the same way? Should she be thinking any of these things about a priest at all?!

“Thank you for meeting me so late. Your parents told me you’re used to working the night shift?” He interrupted her thoughts, standing up behind his desk.

“I am, yeah,” she replied, trying her best not to stare at him for too long. “Thank you.”

“So you’re right at home, then.” He closed his book and looked up at her.

“Sort of,” she paused, wondering how someone so gorgeous remained so chaste. “I haven’t been in a rectory in decades.”

“Decades?” He repeated, an air of judgement tainting the word. “What made you leave the church in the first place?” He asked, his forehead wrinkling in request. “That is, if you don’t mind me asking.”

“No, it’s fine, I just… where do I begin?” She started, a jaded smirk crossing her lips. “The insanely strict rules that control women and their bodies while men are left to their own devices?” She fingered the blanket strewn across the couch as she walked the length of his living room. “Casting out those that are different, have impossible choices in front of them, or have different sexual preferences?”

Father Paul took in a long deep breath, his hand gripping his hip while the other kept him steady against his desk. “Sexual preferences,” he trailed off, slowly letting that breath out. “Your father told me… told the Monsignor… that you’ve been… experimenting.”

“Did he, now?” Her smile spread so wide that even the ant on the floor could tell it was forced.

“He cares for you deeply.” He defended, swallowing hard as he took her in. “Truly, he does,” he nodded.

“And what about you, Father?” She took a step toward him, the old wooden desk the only obstacle between them now. “Would you still care for me if I were different? If I’ve been with men and women and everyone in between?”

“Yes,” he whispered, glancing quickly at her breasts. “God loves all his children the same, no matter what the sin.” He smiled, hoping to reassure her.

“No matter what?” She raised an eyebrow, hoping to get more than just a rehearsed answer out of him. He may be a priest, but he was still a man. A man who asked her to come to his house late at night when no one else was there. A man who seemed to get more nervous the closer she got to him. “What if I’ve been having some impure thoughts recently?”

He blinked erratically. “Imp… impure thoughts?”

“What if they’re thoughts I can’t seem to get rid of?” She placed her palms on top of the desk, leaning in only to have him awkwardly avert her gaze. “What if they’re thoughts about you?”

Father Paul licked his lips, parting them quickly to say something, anything, to counter where he knew this conversation could only lead. “Renee, thoughts like that are natural, but I can’t…”

“I know,” she cut him off. “Of course, I know that.” She pushed down on the cedar wood and stepped backwards, turning away in shame. “I shouldn’t have even said anything, but yesterday when you were down there, I felt…” she sighed.

What an idiot, she thought. She shouldn’t have come here this late thinking he wanted anything other than to bless her! She shouldn’t have taken the chance and embarrassed herself in front of this holy man while he was trying to read the Bible before bed, or whatever he does at night.

“What?” She heard his voice circle around her, deep and dark as his steps creaked across the old rectory floor. “I felt it too. What was it?”

What did he just say?

“I felt,” she continued, the hair on the back of her neck standing on end as he came back into view.

“Tell me,” he demanded, his sudden change in tone making her believe that the man from a few moments ago was nothing more than a ruse. He advanced on her slowly, his eyes darkening to the blackest of night with each step. “Was it fear?”

“No,” she answered, suspending her disbelief that he was even entertaining this conversation.

Another step closer.

“Guilt?” His brows raised into his hairline once more, dropping a raven lock in front of his eye.

She could feel her heart pounding inside her chest as he got closer, the smell of incense emanating off him like an enchanting spell. “No,” she shook her head.

“Lust?” He queried, glaring at her like a jungle cat would its prey. He took one last step before finally backing her up against the desk, forcing her to sit down in front of him.

“Lust,” she confirmed, bending her neck to look up at him.

“That’s right,” he whispered darkly, almost as a reminder to himself. He brushed her cheek with the back of his hand, slowly weaving his fingers into her hairline with a sort of gentle delicacy. “How long has it been since your last confession?”

“I thought you were going to bless my hands.” She challenged.

“If you confess with a pure and honest heart, God will forgive you.” He ignored her, pushing her thighs further apart with his hips. “Repeat after me, ‘Forgive me father, for I have sinned’,” he instructed, his jeans now rubbing against her skin.

She let out an exasperated laugh only to find out from a scolding look that he was very serious. “Forgive me Father, for I have sinned,” she played along, hoping it would get her what she wanted.

“In the name of the father, son and holy spirit,” he made the sign of the cross with his opposite hand, “Tell me your sins.”

“I…I’ve had impure thoughts about a priest,” she stammered, trying to look at his face instead of what she knew was under those skinny jeans. “I’ve found myself having illicit sexual fantasies about this man for days now.”

A confident grin slowly crossed his lips as he massaged the edge of her hairline, wrapping his fingers around her neck. “And what occurred in these sexual fantasies, Renee?” He asked, tracing her carotid with his thumb.

She closed her eyes as she continued her confession, the sight of him at this proximity far too intense for her to take in. “Umm, in the latest one I thought about you washing my feet, slowly moving your hands up my knees and thighs until you reached my underwear,” she took in a heavy breath, trying not to focus on how good his grip felt on her throat.

“Like this?” he clarified, gently placing his other hand on top of her thigh.

She gasped at the sudden contact, his warm hand teasing the hem of her dress as she opened her eyes. “Yes,” she whispered, staring at his long distinguished fingers as they made their way through the tiny hairs of her skin. “Higher.” She instructed, taking his hand in hers before placing it over her pantieline.

If he was shocked by her brazen act, he only let it show on his face for a split second before pulling the fabric of her underwear to the side. “You want sex,” he leaned in, whispering into her ear.

“Yes.” God, that word coming out of his mouth was so simple, yet so potent.

“From a priest.” His fingers slid between her swollen lips, collecting her arousal as he glided them down, then back up, pulling her clit toward her center. “You know that’s against my vows.” He spoke into her hair, applying more pressure.

“Yes,” she let out a breathy moan, relishing in this forbidden sensation. She rocked her hips onto his hand as his fingers slid inside her, his thumb pressing into her clit. Good God, they were even bigger than she imagined! Little jolts of pleasure shot into her core as he worked on her, each one growing in intensity as he pressured that sweet bliss into her bud.

Wanting more, she grabbed ahold of his dress shirt, pulling his mouth into hers. The contradiction of his digital skills and the collar he wore only crossed her mind for a split second before the taste of iron and wine flooded her senses. His kiss was fervent and wild as he breathed into her, his tongue ready to taste every inch of hers as his fingers finally sent her into orgasmic convulsions. She arched her back, breaking contact with his lips as he moved faster, deeper within her.

“Father!” She whimpered, her toes curling inside her shoes. “Oh my God, Father!” She screamed, her muscles contracting around him.

“Shhh,” he whispered, slowly pulling his hand out of her center. “Don’t take the Lord’s name in vain,” he chided, making sure to trace his fingers up her clit one last time. He lifted his fingers in front of his face as she twinged from her climax, her sex glistening in the dim lamplight.

She could have sworn she saw the light reflect in his eyes, the white fiery glow only lasting seconds before they rolled back into his head as if he was in some sort of trance. He slid his fingers into his mouth and started sucking, moaning as his grip on her neck all but crushed her windpipe. The sounds escaping his lips were obscene, feral and animalistic as if a switch inside him had been flipped.

“Father?” She asked, staring at him after several moments of silence.

He opened his eyes and slowly pulled his fingers out of his mouth, her juices mixed with his saliva as he tugged on his bottom lip. “You are forgiven,” he stated, straightening his posture. He let go of her neck and wiped the spit off his chin with the back of his sleeve. “That’ll be five Hail Mary’s and two Our Father’s.”

#midnight mass #midnight mass smut #father paul #father paul x ofc #hamish linklater #priest kink

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americanwh0resstuff · 1 day

Text

Six sentence Sun(Fri)day

Shhh I know it’s the wrong day

Saw this on one of my favourite blogs @careless-with-your-heart who is definitely my fav fic wrtier at the moment, so please all izombie fans on here, give them a look!

But for all my midnight mass fans! Here’s a snippet from an upcoming chapter in god knows I tried…

Her hands flew up into his hair, his hands gripping her hips tightly, pushing her against the cool wood of the booth, she groaned softly as he pinned her between himself and the wall, his body pressed against hers.

It was like a match igniting, all this bottled up pressure finally being released.

The kiss was hard and hot, teeth clashing, Liz couldn't help but smile into Paul's lips, holding back a giggle at his messy and uncertain approach, it was obvious that he was inexperienced, she wondered if this was his first kiss, or maybe first in a long time? He was rough yet caring, his hands soothing over the back of her head where he'd pushed her against the hard panelling, his thumbs tracing over the harsh fingerprints on her hips.

It wasn't until she pulled him closer by his shirt that she noticed something hard pressing against her stomach, through his black slacks, she whimpered softly as she rocked her hips into his and trailed her hand down to his belt.

With that he pulled back, looking at her with fear in his eyes. back, looking at her with fear in his eyes.

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

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neoncrowpen · 2 years

Text

Current Requests in my Inbox

Hello! Sorta back from my Christmas Break. We got a lot to get to so let's go! Requests are listed from oldest to newest. Italicized text indicates what I am currently working on. These are the requests in my inbox as of December 29, 2021.

- Thomas Shelby x Daughter!Reader. About their rocky relationship and Thomas’ reaction (and the family’s reaction) to her coming out.

- Thomas Shelby x Male!Reader

- Yandere!Thomas Shelby x Male!Reader. Reader is a mechanic who takes Tommy in. As Reader reconnects with his cousin, Thomas gets jealous. [Requester wants PART 3 of Goldshot. Here is PART ONE and PART TWO. ]

- Yandere!Paul Atreides x Reader x Yandere!Chani. Outsider attempts to kidnap you.

- Ramsay Bolton x Reader.

- Dark!Paul Atreides x Reader. Reader is under the influence of spice.

- Yandere!Thomas Shelby x Reader. Reader is Grace’s sister and Thomas realizes he chose the wrong sister.

- Michael Gray x Male!Reader. Angst between them that leads into sex. NSFW.

- Paul Atreides x Reader. One Shot. Paul’s enemy threatens Reader.

- Father Paul (John Pruitt) x Reader. Reader has turned and resists her hunger.

- Thomas Shelby x Deaf!Reader.

-Paul Atreides x Reader. Jessica takes on Reader as a student and Paul falls slowly in love.

- Dark!Paul Atreides x Reader. Paul is married to someone else, but forces you to be with him instead.

- Paul Atreides x Princess!Reader. Arranged Marriage AU where they meet for the first time.

- Dark!Paul Atreides x Reader. Arranged Marriage AU on their wedding night and keen to make an heir.

- Geralt of Rivia x Male!Reader. A tale of Geralt and a child’s friendship over the years.

- PEAKY BLINDERS AUTHOR’S CHOICE

- Geralt of Rivia x Reader. Geralt keeps Reader locked at Kaer Morhen.

- Geralt of Rivia x Female!Reader. Monster invades the castle resulting in Reader getting injured. Hurt/Comfort.

- Peter Parker x Reader x Gwen Stacy fluff?!?! Gwen and Reader gush over Spiderman and Gwen secretly smiles because she knows who Spiderman is.

- Yandere!Platonic!Geralt of Rivia x Reader. Reader is sick. their immune system isn’t working like it should.

- Logan Delos x Reader. Logan takes care of sick Reader over Christmas.

- Paul Atreides x Reader. Paul and Reader use the Voice on each other.

- Yandere!Platonic!Thomas Shelby x Reader. After Reader escapes the orphanage, they bump into Thomas Shelby. He claims Reader as his child.

- Thomas Shelby x Male!Reader. About the complicated relationship between Thomas Shelby and his younger brother (Reader).

- Thomas Shelby x Male!Reader. Love story between Thomas Shelby and his servant. Servant's rise to power and Thomas' growing love for him.

- Bucky Barnes x Reader x Spiderman. (Plot contains spoilers for Spiderman: NWH)

- Thomas Shelby x Reader x Michael Gray. Part 3 of Thomas and Michael trying to get dibs on you. Part One and Part Two here.

- Paul Atreides x Reader. Reader refusing Paul's advances.

- Paul Atreides x Reader. Paul predicts Reader's baby with him.

- Dark!Thomas Shelby x Reader. Thomas will not let Reader leave Arrow House, so Reader steals a horse and makes an escape.

We have 12 Peaky Blinders requests, 10 Dune requests, 1 Game of Thrones request, 1 Midnight Mass request, 4 Witcher requests, 2 MCU requests, and 1 Westworld request. Making a total sum of 31 requests.

As a personal rule for myself, I was going to wait until my inbox hit 30 requests to close the inbox. So as of now, December 29, 2021. My inbox is closed until I can fulfill 15 requests. I will plaster this everywhere so everyone knows.

This makes this post the last inbox post of 2021! Wow! I cannot thank you all enough for sending me your ideas and requests. I'm so lucky and fortunate to have so many who consider me their favorite writer on this hellsite. I'm even luckier to have my inbox this full!!

Next year I plan to write darker, grosser, and scarier with even more scarier and darker characters. (And maybe...share my own original work? We'll see. ) After I make masterlists, I have other plans for this blog as well. I can't wait to share it with you all. I do have a desire to spoil all of you, my darlings.

i know i've personally had some bad years. 2020 and 2021 were a challenge. However, I hope you all join me in bringing in this new year with positivity, hope, and motivation. If you can't, that's okay too! The fanfic community is a community meant to create, support and hold each other.

Happy New Year, my Darlings, my Dears, my Loves.

- Crow

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harpyloon · 3 years

Text

“how’d we get so deep from just talking about bubble tea?" / f.w

Pairing: Fred Weasley x fem!OC

Warnings: Angst, mentions of food... also fluffy and cute!

Summary: Fred Weasley and OC Female character fight about bubble tea and it gets kinda angsty but not too much

A/N: Was supposed to be a Fred x Reader thing but i'm not too confident with my 2nd person writing skills yet. Viktoria is my Fred Weasley simp friend 🤪 but she can also be you!

Also wanted to incorporate a bit of how Hermione mentioned the twins slightly affecting Ron's confidence in canon HP. Testing out the waters so let me know what you think! Hope there wasn't too much angst on here.

WC: 2.4k+

This is for you @weasleyclaw

Read on AO3

"What in Merlin's pants is this supposed to be?"

Viktoria giggled enthusiastically against a wide-rimmed straw stuck between her teeth, watching Fred Weasley's perplexed face as he struggled to ingest the contents in his mouth.

"Swallow," she commanded.

Fred quirked an eyebrow, pausing his chewing. "Well, that's what I sai—

He grunted as she took a swipe to his shin.

"Swallow," Viktoria said again, attempting a glare this time, but mirth was swimming around in her eyes.

Frowning and chewing with performative haste, Fred swallowed loudly and obediently (to Viktoria's delight) and stuck out his tongue like a good schoolboy, displaying an empty mouth.

She smiled cheekily, "Well? How is it?"

Instead of answering, Fred brought his wand out and pointed it to his tongue.

"Aguame—“

“NO, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”

Viktoria snatched Fred’s wand immediately, sneaking frantic glances around and shoving it inside her coat.

“Are you mental?!” she whisper-yelled to her boyfriend who had a frown on his face.

“But I'm parched,” grumbled Fred as Viktoria pushed him towards a fairly deserted alley adjacent to the main street.

Covent Garden was bustling with Muggles. Seeing as Easter was fast approaching, boutiques were filled to the brim with shoppers queuing for last-minute holiday hauls, and everyone was out and about, basking in the spring breeze.

A good-looking pair of lovebirds sipping on matching bubble tea beverages, walking down James Street hand-in-hand was nothing close to unusual on a cheerful sunny day such as today. What would've been unusual was if one of the pair suddenly shot out cold, freshwater into his mouth from a wooden stick. That would've stirred some heads.

"You're parched?" Viktoria's eyes were wide and exasperated. "How many times do you have to pull something like that in the middle of a bloody Muggle street—"

"It was you who made me swallow it!" said Fred defensively.

She scoffed, "Oh please. You're being dramatic."

"Dramatic? These things taste like Dungbombs!" he waved his still-full cup of bubble tea, shoving it up his girlfriend's face as if it's committed some horrendous crime. Black little pearls were swimming around between Viktoria's eyes.

She shoves him off, offended.

"Excuse me? Dungbombs? Have you actually eaten Dungbombs?"

"Well, no, but these sure look like 'em."

Viktoria gasped.

"You did not," she glared threateningly at Fred.

"Also," his face frowned in disgust, "who—in their right mind—would put ice in tea? Barbaric is what this is!"

Viktoria's mood was getting fouler by the second. She had been excited. So incredibly excited to have Fred finally try one of her favorite drinks in the world. Her mother was a muggle, and her father a Curse Breaker—where the job came with travelling; when they had lived briefly in Thailand when she was thirteen, they couldn't get her to stop drinking bubble tea every single day.

"I can't believe you said that," she said.

"What? The truth?"

"The entire world doesn't drink tea the same way the British do, Fred!"

"Well too bad for them then! No one makes tea like Mum does."

"This is different. This is about trying something new!"

"Well, I don't want new!"

"UUUUUGRRRH."

With a loud groan, she snatched the cup being dangled in front of her face and stomped away angrily.

"HEY— Where are you going?" Fred called to her retreating back.

The good-looking pair of lovebirds were no longer a subject of longing stares as passersby dodged the now bitter-looking woman storming down the Muggle street, sipping from two cups of bubble tea simultaneously, her boyfriend running to keep up with her.

"Viktoria," Fred called out as reasonably projected as possible. They were making a scene and he knew it. He didn't mind the attention when he was being funny or when people stared at him and Viktoria hand-in-hand. He loved showing her off. Not like this though. Not when she was walking away from him.

"Viktoria," he was jogging next to her now, "slow down."

"Sod off and go drown in your Mum's tea, Fred Weasley," she growled without so much as a glance in his direction. "I hate you so much right now."

"Will you stop walking for one second?"

She brisked even faster.

"Okay, okay, I'm sor—," he dodged running into a stroller and an angry mother who chastised him. After apologizing profusely at the woman who was immediately charmed by the Weasley smile, he glanced up and saw that Viktoria was nowhere to be found.

"Shite."

Running down James Street, he paused through every alley, searching, passing by the boutiques they've previously visited earlier in the day. Skidding to a halt in front of the bubble tea shop, he entered and scanned the small space.

"Back for another already?"

The woman who had served them earlier was smiling at Fred behind the counter, "Original Bubble for your lady?"

"Uh," he was still panting, "er—no thank you, madame. I was wondering if—"

The woman laughed.

"Just one for her today then? That's a first. On her best days she can do three!" she seemed to laugh at a memory.

"Er—sorry?"

The woman shook her head in amusement, "Your little lady would swell her digestion herself if she could, only if it meant she could drink pints of these devils!" she gestured to the gallons of ready-made tea behind her. "It's a sight. She practically inhales it. I'm lactose-intolerant you see. Watching her, I live vicariously!"

The woman laughed again and pointed to a window in the corner of her shop, "Sits over on that cushion every Sunday when she's back from school."

Fred's breathing was calming down, but his heart was thumping faster.

"She nicked yours 'in't she?" she asked. "That why you're back for another?"

Eyes glued to the small corner booth by the window, Fred answered with a question, "She likes bubble tea then?"

"Likes?" the woman almost scoffed, "Darling, I could say she's a shop benefactor with the number of cuppas that girl downs! She told me once that our tea is the closest thing to those authentic ones you find in— where was that? Taiwan? Anyway—"

"Thailand," breathed Fred, and dread was closing in on him. Remorse slowly working its way to his erratic heart. "She—she lived there for a while. Told me all about the..."

The tea.

"I'll take you I swear," she told him as they walked up the stairs to the Gryffindor common room, "it's almost as good as the ones in Bangkok. NOT AS AMAZING, but good enough!"

Viktoria had moved to Hogwarts when they were in their fifth year, straight from Thailand; carrying stories of her Curse Breaker father, speaking fluent Gobbledegook in Charms that made her a Flitwick favorite, and going on and on about how the school kitchens didn't have black squishy pearls swimming in cold tea...

Sighing, Fred turned to the woman who was still beaming at him.

"One Original Bubble please."

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

Viktoria watched churchgoers walk past her from the bench where she sat near St. Paul's Chapel, nibbling on her straw mindlessly.

The two cups of bubble tea were long empty. Her stomach was rumbling quietly from the aggressive intake of lactose, and her foul mood dulled into a solemn ache.

She remembered when she was still back in Hogwarts a few days ago, packing for the Easter holidays. Recalling her long list of "must-dos" with Fred that she had planned out. This was their second holiday as a couple, after getting together right before Fred and George decided to drop out mid-year of their sixth. They wrote together all summer long, and she had spent the following Christmas at the Burrow.

With You-Know-Who back in the picture, nowhere was safe to spend anything these days. But a Muggle area gave a supposedly wider berth from danger. This was why the two had planned to meet her family this time, introduce Fred to her mum and dad, and bring him around Muggle London.

"She's lovely," he whispered in her ear as her mother stood up to refill all their bowls with her homemade Sheperd's Pie.

Viktoria smiled, "She is when she's full."

"Just like you then," said Fred with a smirk.

Her foot met his toe and he coughed out a sharp grunt.

"Say that again?"

"You are as lovely as your mother, my sweet," he mumbled back and gave a strained smile to her Curse Breaker father when he peered at them curiously.

"Lovely my big fat foot," Viktoria grumbled under her breath, poking the bottom of her empty cup with the straw aggressively. "Stupid, insensitive, red-headed git. Can't even pretend. Can't even try to pretend to like it. I'm supportive, aren't I? I even offer to be a guinea pig for the Wheezes. Remember when I grew a stubble because of that potion?" she was talking to her cup now, remembering being the human experiment for Magical Moustache Miracle Stubble Grow.

"AND (poke) TO THINK (poke) I WAS SO (even more aggressive poke) EXCITED!"

A straw-shaped hole peered up at her from the bottom of the cup.

"UGH, I don't even know why I'm mad!"

Someone cleared their throat gently behind her.

Huffing haughtily and knowing exactly who it was, Viktoria ignored the sound and continued to glare at the throng of Muggles walking past. She would not give in. She won't.

A long shadow loomed over her and sat on the bench, giving them a respectable amount of space in between.

The small square they were in was rumbling with activity. But there was nothing but silence in their own little bubble.

Sluuuurp.

She won't look. No. Spiting her, he is. Making fun. Always making fun—

SLUUUUUUUUUURP.

Chancing upon him at the corner of her eye, Viktoria saw Fred sipping on a cup of Original Bubble, frowning as he maneuvered his straw to catch the pearls that were swimming away.

"You don't have to do that."

Fred looked up, straw in mouth, "Well, how am I supposed to catch them then? Sneaky little gorgons—"

"No," sighed Viktoria, "I mean you don't have to drink that. I'm not forcing you to do anything you don't want to."

"You're not forcing me at a—"

"Cut it out, Fred."

Silence.

Children were running around nearby, feeding Pigeons with small pieces of bread from their lunch helpings. A little girl slipped. There were no tears though. She continued to roll around the pavement, shrieking with delight, to her mother's chagrin.

She heard him sigh beside her.

"I'm a git."

Silence.

"You kept going on about this all year last. Never stopped. It—it slipped my mind."

Silence.

"I'm a git and I deserve to be trolled."

Silence.

"I'm a filthy pile of dung and I subject myself to eating toadstools for the rest of my life."

"You are not eating toadstool," Viktoria glared at Fred who held his breath as she finally spoke. "I will not snog a toadstool eating wizard."

Fred's eyes turned misty, "You still wanna snog me?"

"When you're not being an absolute arse, I do."

Closing the gap between them the tiniest bit, Fred said, "I'm sorry, Viktoria."

It took a few breaths before she gave a defeated sigh, "This is stupid," she muttered. "This is stupid, I don't even know why I'm mad—"

"I do," interrupted Fred. "I know and I deserve it. I was a git. I wasn't paying attention and I was completely insensitive. You always," he was struggling, "you always feel things around you, even people. You read rooms clearly, you keep me in check. My mouth— I— I can't control it sometimes I— I say hurtful things to people I love without meaning them."

Viktoria was looking at him now, observing Fred's shameful downcasted eyes.

He blinked a couple of times before continuing, "Hermione confronted me once about it, about how the small things I say affected Ron loads. And I— I didn't want to believe her at first. Shrugged her off-quite rudely to be honest. But when I saw him play for Keeper I..."

There was a snitch-sized lump down Viktoria's throat and it was preventing any form of speech. She knew this. They had both sat down and talked about each other's flaws and hubris awhile back, after getting into a massive fight before Christmas at the Burrow. She was familiar with Fred's difficulty with words, his teasing getting too far at times. But he was good. She knew this as well. His affection coursed differently. And this was precisely why she loved him.

Words failing her, she grabbed his bubble teacup and took a long sip. His eyes held hers and she took his hand.

"Go on," she encouraged.

He took a deep breath, "Well, you know what happened. He was all over the place, Ron. Couldn't save a single Quaffle, quite unlike our matches in our backyard. George and I knew he was good. Merlin, even Ginny knew. But he wavered on the pitch. He didn't have the guts. And I had a lot to do with that."

Fred brought Viktoria's hand to his lips, "I'm doing better. You said so yourself," she gave him a teary smile, "but I— I slip and I'm sorry. I'll have more tact. I know it's the little words I overlook, and I'll work on that now. I swear I'll be more careful and— I just don't want to drive you away. You most of all."

Silently and without preamble, Viktoria stood. Fred blinked up at her, and from where she gazed, she saw the mist and remorse swimming all over his enchanting brown eyes.

"Oh, Fred Weasley," she smiled shyly down at him, brushing strands of red away from his forehead. "How'd we get so deep from just fighting about bubble tea?"

He gave a hearty guffaw, the signature Fred laughter that made her heart leap. "Because I'm a drama queen is why."

Pulling her to his lap, she settled on his chest, her head propped against his cheek.

"You're a good man, my Freddie," said Viktoria. His arms tighten around her. "You're the sweetest, most handsome, and you snog me so well."

Fred's laugh was contagious, his chest vibrating against her back. She grinned.

"And you were right. You are doing so well. I forgive you. And I'm sorry too."

She turned her head and rested it below his chin, her nose propped against his jaw, inhaling while her eyes fluttered shut. The sweet, gun-powdered scent of Fred Weasley. All bruised and perfect for her and her only.

"You know," started Fred, breaking their small silence as he stole a sip from the cup, "these aren't half bad."

Viktoria rolled her eyes, "Oh stop."

"I'm serious! I should've given them more teeth. I reckon it's all in the chew."

"Yeah?"

"Mhmm. We could make something out of this for Wheezes."

"No."

"Edible Dungbombs?"

Viktoria groaned.

Unbelievable.

#by gabi #fred weasley #fred weasley x oc #harry potter fic #fred weasley angst #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley fic #byGabi

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leahclearwaterprotectionsquad · 4 years

Text

Not A Leech Lover, I Swear (L.C)

FANDOM: Twilight PAIRING: Leah Clearwater x Female Swan Reader WARNING: Lil’ bit of Cullen and Bella bashing, sorry. I personally don’t mind them, but we all know our girl Leah is Not keen on them at all. CATEGORY: F/F WORDCOUNT: 3,833 SYNOPSIS: Y/N comes with her sister, Bella, to see Jacob and the others, only to meet the beautiful but fiery Leah who imprints on her. A/N: This is the first fic I’ve written in ages, just wanted to do something simple to get back into writing. Hopefully, this isn’t too awful. Thank you for reading :)

You rolled your eyes as Bella and Jacob walked a few steps ahead, her body angled away from his while his intense dark eyes never left her, following your sisters every move. Bella was beautiful, there was no doubt, with dark hair cascading down her back and simple features that complimented her round face. You didn’t like to compare the two of you, but you were sure she was prettier, how else did she have not only Edward and Jacob but Mike Norton falling at her feet wherever she went?

You weren’t bitter though. Nope, not at all. You were just...observant.

“Are you sure this is a good idea? I am the vampire girl, remember?”

She asked with what sounded like a timid tone but you could see the underline of the smirk playing out on her face, the need for reassurance, for validation from Jacob. You wished she would just choose one already and stop dragging him along. Edward was nice, but so was Jacob and it physically pained you to see the kicked puppy expression he often wore every time Bella turned him down - often in the cruellest ways she could.

Jacob didn’t get a chance to respond before four men just as large and muscular as Jacob, all shirtless in denim cut-offs, came jogging out of the house wearing matching grins. You recognised Quil and Embry from Jacob’s garage as they started into teasing conversation with Bella, and Jared and Paul from when Bella slapped Paul in the face. The memory still made you wince in embarrassment. You had tried to tug Bella away that day, away from the smirking men, away from Jacob who she continued to hurt, away from the reservation where she seemed to do nothing but cause trouble.

But no, Bella had never listened to you before, you couldn’t imagine why you would have thought she would that time either. Bella always knew best, it was just the way your life worked.

The men continued to poke fun at Jacob, Paul even leaning forward to smack him slightly with a laugh. You could see the pink forming on your sisters' cheeks and the way Jacob’s strong jaw seemed to lock in annoyance, the shifter refusing to meet eyes with anyone but especially Bella.

“Alright, you can all shut up now,”

He grumbled with a shake of his head. You tried to block out their conversation and instead shoved your hands into the pocket of your jacket, looking down at your boots in the mud as if they were the most interesting thing in the world. You weren’t even sure why you were there. Bella had originally wanted to leave school just on the back of Jacob’s bike so it was only the two of them, but Jacob had seen your face fall at the idea of being stuck at school with a moping Edward and he had instead decided to take your car down to the reservation so you could come too. You were grateful for not being at school with your sisters' mind-reading boyfriend, but you would have rathered they dropped you home before coming.

You didn’t feel like being the third-wheel to whatever type of not-a-relationship relationship they had going, not to mention if you let anything slip in your mind while around Edward Bella would kill you. You weren’t sure why it was only you being held to that standard because you were damn sure Jacob made no effort of controlling any of his thoughts around Edward and you were sure they were a bit more graphic than your own.

You hadn’t even noticed the figure out the corner of your eye come stomping forward until she was only a few feet away. You couldn’t help but stare at the beautiful woman who stood tall with radiant copper skin that even the miserable weather couldn’t wash out, and black hair that seemed to shine despite the overcast of the sky. Even in a simple pair of denim shorts and a beige tank top she still looked stunning, miles of tanned legs and biceps toned with muscle on display. The Quileute beauty hadn’t seen you yet - but she had seen Bella and you had a feeling your sister was about to wish she hadn’t.

“Y/N, Bella, this is Leah Clearwater...Harry’s daughter,”

Jacob seemed to add as an afterthought with an awkward cough, not meeting anyone’s eyes. You prayed Bella wouldn’t say something stupid or offensive to the woman.

“Hey, I’m really sorry about your father.”

Leah stared at Bella with such a ferocity that you weren’t even sure the woman was aware of your existence, something that filled you with equal parts relief and anxiety, like if this woman didn’t look at you then your entire life would be over in an instant. ‘What the hell, Y/N?’ You thought incredulously to yourself.

“If you’re here to torture Jacob some more, feel free to leave,”

She spat, her intense eyes filled with something you could only describe as utter loathing. You could see Bella visibly wince, and while you felt bad for your sister, you also couldn’t help the small feeling of smugness that crept to the surface. It was about time someone had called Bella out on her treatment of Jacob.

All was quiet for a moment save for the uncomfortable loudness of Jarod chewing on a chicken leg while everyone else shifted uncomfortably, not really saying anything. Eventually, the brunette beauty’s eyes trailed off from Bella and onto you.

When her dark eyes met yours it was like everything fell into place, as if your life had been some kind of unsolved maths problem before that moment that could never quite be solved. A warm flush descended upon your cheeks and down into your belly, a pleasant feeling comparable to drinking hot chocolate on a cold day or curling up in bed with a heated blanket. A feeling of home, comfort, safety.

Her eyes widened, lips parted ever so slightly and it made you want to leap forward and kiss them- You nearly shrieked at the thought. What had gotten into you? You didn’t know this woman and here you were thinking about kissing her?

It didn’t change the fact that she looked at you like no one ever had before, like you were important and needed. She looked at you as you imagined the characters of your beloved romance novels looked at each other, with both passion and protectiveness. You were lost in her dark eyes and you weren’t sure you ever wanted to be found. You couldn’t bear the thought of the moment ending, of her looking at anyone but you that way. The thought replaced the warmth in your stomach with a painful cold comparable to the time you accidentally touched Edward’s skin when walking past. Cold, hard, uncomfortable. You never wanted her to break the stare being traded between you, never wanted anyone to interrupt the moment-

“Holy fucking shit,”

You heard a voice whisper in amused awe behind you, either Embry or Paul. You ignored it and kept staring at the beautiful woman, but instead, her copper cheeks flushed an angry red and she turned and stormed off, not looking back once.

You glanced around the group in confusion and mild irritation, taking in the confusion of your sisters face, then the dumbfounded look on Jacob’s face while Embry, Paul and Quil wore amused smirks. Jarod just kept chewing on his chicken.

You couldn’t explain it, but every part of your body was screaming to follow her, to make sure she was okay. You wanted to chase her and assure her that she was alright and that you hoped she was healing after the death of her father and that she deserved happiness. You weren’t sure where these thoughts were coming from, why you had such an intense need to make sure this stranger was happy. It was then the words of Jacob came to mind when he had been explaining the relationship between Sam and Emily earlier in the car. “Suddenly it's not the earth holding you here anymore, she does. You would do anything, be anything.” Imprinting.

The breath seemed to have been sucked from your body at that moment, the world around you spinning. You, the sister of the resident ‘vampire girl’ had been imprinted on by a wolf? The thought made your skin tingle with both excitement and dread.

Something drove you forward, an invisible force that screamed at you to chase after her. Suddenly it wasn’t you in control of your legs but this invisible force urging you forward. Unconsciously, you began to follow after her.

“Y/N,” Bella snapped, her hand shooting out to close around your arm as you took a step forward. You shrugged her off with ease and hurried off down the path where you had seen Leah go, trying to block out the sound of their voices behind you.

“Fun, isn’t she?” You heard Jacob say snidely regarding Leah and you fought the urge to turn around and give him a piece of your mind, but finding Leah was more important than Jacob’s snide comments.

The path Leah had taken was one into the forest, sounding you with serene sounds of birds and the gravel crunching beneath your feet. The trees blocked out what little sun the day had to offer and instead you found yourself descending into the dark, wondering if there was a big bad wolf waiting to eat you up. The thought made your cheeks hot.

“Leah!” You called, the basic shoes you had slipped on for school not cooperating with the rough terrain under your feet as you hurried towards the figure stalking away. She slowed slightly but didn’t turn, her long legs (not to mention superhuman abilities) giving her an unfair advantage over you. Huffing in annoyance, you attempted to push yourself further.

“Leah, please, wait,”

You begged, pushing yourself to hurry to catch up to the she-wolf. In your clumsy attempt to catch her your foot caught on a root and you let out an alarmed cry as you went crashing knee-first into the rough ground beneath you, feeling the rocks tear at your thin skin as pain shot through your lower legs.

You barely even have time to register the pain before pleasantly warm hands were wrapped around your forearms softly, big brown eyes staring down at you with thinly-veiled fear as they took in the extent of your wounds - a scraped knee. You were fairly sure you’d live unless the intensity of Leah’s stare melted you into a puddle first - something you were all too sure was possible at the way your stomach flipped at her proximity. Once again you were all too focused on her plump lips, how they parted slightly as she stared down at you with an unreadable expression.

You cursed yourself for not being able to stay focused around the beautiful woman. Sure, you had crushes before, but this - this was nothing compared to those school girl crushes of the past. If the woman in front of you asked you to jump off one of the highest La Push cliffs as your sister had, you weren’t sure you had the ability to say no.

“I’m Y/N, Y/N Swan,”

You blurted out, wincing at your desperate tone. Leah’s plump lips tugged in amusement, not quite a smile, but close.

“Leech Lover Jr,”

She said with a strange combination of amusement and terseness, her warm hands never letting go of your forearms, although you certainly weren’t complaining. You were so distracted by the pleasant warmth pulsating through your arms that you didn’t even register her words for a moment, your features morphing in disgust as you eventually did.

“No thanks,”

You said with a crinkled nose, disgusted at the thought.

“I like my girlfriends alive.”

You fought a snort of amusement at the way her eyebrows comically raised at your comment. Using her momentarily stunned expression to your advantage, you stood from where you had landed on your knees in the dirt, Leah whose hands were still tightly closed around your forearms having no choice but to stand with you. The blinking she-wolf seemed to then realise she still had a hold of you and with a quick pause, she dropped her hands awkwardly back to her side, an unreadable expression on her serious but beautiful features. You fought to hide your disappointment at the lost contact.

You both stood in silence for a few moments, you looking everywhere but at Leah and Leah seemingly unable to take her curious eyes away from your face. Your cheeks heated under her intense gaze. You opened your mouth to say something at the same time she did and then you both paused again in frustration, Leah gesturing with your hand for you to go first. You took a deep breath, preparing for her reaction.

“You just imprinted on me.”

It wasn’t a question because you didn’t need an answer. There was no other way to explain her shocked look or the packs' comments or the way your body just seemed to need to follow her and make sure she was okay. You had cared about a lot of people before - Charlie, Bella, your mother on a good day, Jacob, but never had you felt this kind of...intensity? A primal urge like hunger or thirst, she had suddenly become another nourishment your body needed to be filled and would starve without.

Leah blinked a couple of times in what you supposed was shock, her expression one of a woman who had just been slapped with something she certainly wasn’t expecting.

“How do you know about imprinting?” She demanded and if it was aimed at anyone else you would almost see it as aggressive, but you could see the genuine curiosity playing out on her face and you knew then she didn’t mean any harm.

“Jacob told us a bit about it,”

You explained with the shrug of your right shoulder as if Jacob sharing tribal secrets was no big deal. You knew it was, but you figured if you could play it off then maybe she wouldn’t tear him a new one. From the irritated noise that bubbled in her throat, you got the feeling he wasn’t going to escape it no matter what you said. Oh well, you tried, now you just had to hope they’d let you watch.

“So...it’s true?” You prodded gently.

“You imprinted on me?” Leah didn’t say anything for a few moments, causing anxiety to bubble in your stomach uncomfortably and for your skin to tingle with goosebumps, the hairs of your arms standing on end. You writhed your fingers together, trying to concentrate on the throbbing pain of your scraped knees and not nausea bubbling beneath the surface. Why wasn’t she saying anything? Had you got it all wrong? Perhaps she hadn’t imprinted, perhaps you just had a sudden crush and she stormed off because your staring had made her uncomfortable. Yes, that was it. Why would this strong, beautiful woman have imprinted on you? She was a warrior of her tribe, a protector of humans, fierce and deadly. Why would she imprint on you? The sister of the resident ‘leech lover.’ God, you must have come across as ridiculous, chasing after her talking about imprints. You were nothing but a silly little girl.

You fought the hot tears trying to form behind your eyes and instead quickly rubbed them away with a sniffle, taking a step away from the she-wolf.

“I’m sorry,”

You blurted out, taking another step back, ready to run back to Emily’s house and beg Bella to take you home. After this, you would lock yourself in your room for a week straight with ice-cream and never go near the reservation again, not after the humiliation. If Jacob wanted to see you he could come slum it in Forks.

“I got it wrong, I’ll just go-”

Before you had a chance to walk off, a warm hand shot out to grasp your arm, not harshly. You turned and your eyes connected with her dark ones, your breath nearly stolen from the intensity of them. You never thought yourself one of those people who could ‘read’ peoples eyes and tell their emotions, you left that to Jasper Cullen, but staring into her eyes you could see swirls of emotions mixing together and you weren’t sure just how that made you feel. All you knew was the feeling on her hand around your arm seemed to make everything bad in the world disappear.

“I did,”

Leah confirmed with an unreadable expression and you nearly passed out on the spot. Imprint, she had imprinted on you. A part of you already knew that deep down but it didn’t stop a hundred new emotions, many you weren’t familiar with, taking over your body.

“And uh...how do you feel about that?” You asked awkwardly, and unaware of your own movements, you stepped closer to Leah, inhaling deeply at her presence. She smelt of the Earth and forest around you, of warmth and security. A faint smell of sweat and natural odour could be detected to - but it wasn’t unpleasant like sharing classes with boys after gym class. It smelt of her - and she smelt like home.

Leah, for the first time in the minutes you had known her, nearly smiled. It was close, a twinge of the lips, a dance in her eyes. You’d get her there, you were sure of it.

“I’m not sure,”

She confessed.

“I - Well, we didn’t think I could imprint,”

She said with a slight shrug and you didn’t miss the bitterness in her tone at that revelation.

“I was always the freak of the pack, the one who wasn’t meant to be there. They never stopped reminding me of it.”

It filled you with a wave of intense anger that the boys of the pack had made her feel so unwelcome, so unwanted. Jacob was no stranger to being shoved to the side, to be both needed but unwanted - he had dealt with that the entire time Edward had been gone, being used for what he could give but when it came to his wellbeing than being pushed away again. You couldn’t believe the boy you had grown up with as a brother could treat someone so poorly. You were definitely going to be having a conversation with Jacob later.

A flush of red-hot embarrassment played out on Leah’s face and she quickly took a step away, your stomach sinking at the loss of contact.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have unloaded all of that onto you-” She didn’t get to finish her stammered apology before you were in front of her, your arms wrapping around her slim waist before she had time to protest. You could feel her body stiff at the sudden contact, but you never let go, keeping her warm, soft body close to you. It wasn’t intentional that your face would be level with her breasts, but you weren’t complaining either. After a few moments of stillness, the forest quiet save for the steady drum of her heart and quick breaths, she brought her warm, strong arms up and wrapped them around you. You nearly melted there and then.

You stood together for several quiet moments, just enjoying the feeling of her warm embrace engulfing you and the sound of her heart against you. You didn’t want this moment to ever end - to ever be separated from her. The thought was painful in a way you couldn’t imagine. Is that how Bella felt when Edward left? Like something was missing? If it was, you suddenly felt bad for how terse you had been with her during the ordeal. In your defence, there’s only so many nights a girl can be woken up by shrill screams before it gets a bit ridiculous.

“So,” Leah started as the two of you separated from the hug, you with a slight frown at being parted from her body.

“No leech boyfriend or...girlfriend I need to worry about?” She joked, but you could see the genuine concern clear on her face. With who your sister was, you knew it was a valid worry, but it still didn’t stop the wave of nausea you felt at the idea of being with one of them. A literal example of the walking dead. Your disgust must have played out on your face because Leah let out a snort of amusement.

“No, definitely not,”

You said with a shrivelled nose turned upwards. You could see Leah mostly believe you, although you were sure you still saw a slither of doubt.

“I’m not a leech lover, I swear,”

You promised with a smile. That seemed to be good enough for her and for the first time, although it was only small, you saw Leah smile and it filled you with a warmth you didn’t know was humanly possible.

“Look, Leah,”

You began, taking one of her warm hands in your own. You tried not to let yourself get distracted by the heat that flooded you or the gentle pink of her nose.

“I don’t really know how this whole imprinting thing is supposed to work - I don’t think you do either, but can we just...try? Take it day by day, see what happens?”

You finished your little speech with a breath, hoping she hadn’t been scared off by your words. What if she didn’t want anything to do with this - with you? Maybe she wasn’t interested in imprinting, maybe she wasn’t interested in girls, or maybe she was but just not you. The possibilities were endless and your mind was dedicated to exploring every single heartbreaking one until a squeeze of your hand brought you out of your depressing fantasies and you were left face to face with Leah who had a small smile on her face and if you didn’t know better you’d even say a slight blush.

“I’d...I’d like that,”

Leah said with a soft tone, her hand never releasing yours, something you were eternally grateful for.

As you and Leah turned to walk back to Emily’s house, hand in hand, you weren’t sure how the future was going to play out - you weren’t any Alice, after all, but you felt a deep feeling of content in your stomach. You were sure as long as Leah was there, you’d be okay, everything would be okay. Not perfect, not without faults or arguments, but okay.

You had a lot of adventures in your life, from being chased by vampires to making sure one didn’t kill itself, but you were getting the feeling those were only the start of your adventures, and you were more than ready to make some new ones with Leah by your side.

Now, you just had to tell Bella.

Authors Note: Hey, thank you for reading! This is my first fanfic in forever so it’s probably trash, but I’m just trying to get back into writing regularly. Anyway, thank you :)

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sunnyie-eve · 2 years

Text

Deserve Love || Oblivious

Paring: Prince Paul (Catherine the Great 2019) x Original female character

Word Count: 2924

Summary: Lillia just wants out of an arrange marriage and just wants Paul to be with someone who isn't going behind his back

Warnings: arrange marriages, hidden feelings, jealousy, hinted SA, angst

Last: Childhood Friends | Next: First Love

"Is your fiancé coming tonight?" Paul asks as we sit near each other. "I don't know. He'll probably be with some girl being too busy to show up. Or show up and find one to leave with." I explain as I write to my father. "He has you yet gets with other women?" Paul asks. "Yes because we aren't in love and I don't see us ever falling in love." I look over at him. "Then why marry you?" He scoffs. "I don't know. He mother wants a grandchild... But I don't plan of having sex with him anytime soon or ever. What can I do for him to call off the wedding?" I stop what I was writing. "Why are you asking me?" He raises an eyebrow. "Because your my friend. Also you don't want me to marry him." I explain. "Stop pretending to be interested in him. Tell him stop his affairs or you will leave him... We know he won't stop. Or find someone to have an affair with so he won't want to marry you."

"I don't pretend to like him, I tried that, and who the hell would I have an affair with?" I answer each thing. "Peter..." He gives me a look. "Why that look?" I cross my arms. "I see the way he looks at you." He gets up walking over to me. "Doesn't mean I like him back." I go back to writing. "Do you like anyone who's not me?" He tilts my chin up. "I never said I liked you in that way." I look back down. "You did when we were kids." He laughs. "You mean when we were eight? Ten/eleven years ago?" I look up giving him a look. "You never stated you stopped." He leans down on the table. "Fine, I stopped like you a long time ago." I look him in the eyes but he smiles, "That's a lie." I huff getting out of my seat. "What do you what from me, Paul?" I ask annoyed. "Just for you to admit you still like me." He stands up taking a step closer to me.

"Paul, I'm getting married and you will be soon too." I grab my things but he stops me. "Do you really not love me anymore?" He gives me a sad look. "Why should I answer when you don't say anything straight forward?" I ask him but he keeps quiet. "I'll always love you in some way Paul. In what ways? I'll never say." I leave the room. When I get to my living area I see Andrei waiting for me. "I've been waiting for you. Where have you been?" He asks as I walk in. "Around trying to write to my father. Why are you here?" I ask placing the stuff down on the table. "I wanted to see my lovely fiancé." He takes me by my hand giving me a kiss. "Why are you marrying me? You don't love me." I ask walking away from him. "My father wants me to. Wants me to settle down." He rolls his eyes. "And since my mother promised, I'm the only option?"

"I know I'm not your pick. If you could you would marry Paul since that's who you're in love with." His voice slowly gets louder. "I do not love Paul that way." I tell him. "I see the way you look at him. You can't fool me, darling. But you're gonna be my wife not his. So keep pretending you love me." He grabs my arm roughly. "Then you should keep doing the same yourself." I give him a smile. "I love you." He smiles. "I love you too." I give him a kiss with a smile. "I won't be at the party tonight. My father and I will be doing things." He leaves the room and I pick up a pillow throwing it across the room.

As I enter the party I see everyone dressed up. To be honest this was so much more comfortable than wearing a dress. "Well look at the two of you. You make such beautiful woman." I find Paul with Minister Panin. "Thank you." Panin gives me a smile while Paul looks miserable. "How do we look Your Majesty?" He asks her as she arrives. "I think one of you looks like a lesbian, but I'm not quite sure which one!" She laughs at them. "Lilia, you look wonderful. I'm looking for Potemkin." She walks off. I turn to see Paul lift up his chest making me laugh while Panin tells him he has to much rouge in one side. As Panin goes to fix him Paul walks off making me follow him. "Who are you trying to impress pushing up your chest?" I laugh at him. "It's uncomfortable." He messes with himself. "Congratulations. You know what we women have to deal with. I for one feel comfortable tonight." I smile looking at his face. "Panin is right. You have too much on this side." I step closer to him trying to make it look the same on each side.

"You say I make a beautiful lady?" He says ask I touch his face. "You do. How do I look?" I step back showing off my look. "Like a beautiful lady in men's wear." He smiles so I roll my eyes. "I saw Andrei leave earlier today." He says as I even out his makeup. "He said he wanted to see me." I forget to smile. "What did he talk to you about?" Paul asks. "Doesn't really want to marry me. Knows I don't want to marry him but I have to pretend I love him. I told him he needs to do the same with me." I explain. "You deserve to with with someone you love. I say that as your friend." He takes my hand into his. "Paul, you know for a man in this time... you treat me very different than most men treat women. Most men would never say a woman was their best friend, or spend time together like we do. You also let me be me." I explain to him.

"We grew up together and it was just the two of us. That's the difference between me and other men. Lilia, I'll always love you in many ways even when I marry someone else. No other woman can beat my first love." He tells me so I look down. "If I can't have you as a wife... I'm glad to still have you as a friend." He kisses my cheek as Panin joins us. "I am Victor Heinrich Emanuel the Landgrave of Hesse Darmstadt, the Landgrave of Hesse Darmstadt, Your Majesty. I hear you're looking for a wife for Prince Paul. I have three attractive daughters..." We hear and a see a man talking to her. "See what you did." Paul leans closer to me. "Not my fault again." I tell him as I see Andrei come over to us.

"I thought you were with your father?" I ask him. "I was but he said I should spend time with my fiancé." He gives me a kiss and eyes Paul. "Shall we see which of his daughters you like the most?" Panin asks Paul. "That one would make a beautiful wife for you Paul." I point out one of the daughters before Andrei takes us away. "How do I look?" He asks me. "Wonderful darling." I laugh. "Now, let's celebrate new beginnings. I want something Russian!" Catherine laughs and music starts. "Shall we?" Andrei asks as more people start to dance. While we have a fun time and I see Paul eyeing us as he talks to one of the daughters.

Two years have passed since the ball and I hated being married to Andrei especially when he was having an affair with Paul's wife. Paul slightly, not even slightly, he 100% didn't even notice when it was so obvious. Andrei knew I knew but didn't care and neither did I because in two years we never fell in love with the other. One thing I liked about being married to him was we didn't live together. "Paul, Natalia." I pass them. "Come here." Paul calls me over. "I was just showing Natalia my father again." He smiles at the painting and I see the boredom on her face. "Weak chin, don't you think?" Catherine shows up so we bow to her, well not so much Natalia. "Hm, so how do you like your new name?" Catherine asks her. "Natalia. I love it, Your Majesty." She tells her. "It's Russian. You should love it." She tells her. "I wanted to ask you something." Paul tells his mother. "I wanted to join the Council." He says and I knew the answer to that. "No." She says right away.

"He would have wanted it." He tells her talking about his father. "He also wanted me in prison. Or dead." She adds. "I am simply asking if I might be allowed to sit on the Council and do the work my fa-," She cuts him off with a no. Paul looks annoyed so I place my hand on his arm, "I somewhat disagree with her choice." I tell him. "Somewhat?" He looks at me. "Yes... I 100% believe you should be on the council because of your right." I explain. "But?" He asks. "You think off of emotion which is a slight problem..." I explain more being honest. "So you think I shouldn't be apart?" He gets defensive. "Until you know not to act on emotions, yes." I stand by my words. "Watch your tone with me." He says making me laugh. "Or what? Your Excellency?" He grabs my wrist dragging me off away from Natalia till we were completely alone and shunts the door behind him. "I'm waiting Your Excellency?" I tell him as his face turns red.

"What has gotten into you? You act so different." He asks. "I do? Well I hate my husband and I hate your wife because she doesn't love you." I smile at him. "She loves me." He tells. "No she doesn't. As a woman, I can read another woman's emotions clear as day." I chuckle a little. "I get it. You're jealous. I'm married to her and not you. My wife loves me when your husband doesn't love you." He smiles making me laugh more. "Trust me, I'm not jealous. I care about you, Paul. I just want you to be with someone who loves you like you love them." I explain to him. "I could never be with you then since you don't love me, right?" He makes me sigh. "I'm not having this conversation." I turn to leave the room. "Lilia, I'm talking to you." He calls my name. "And I'm done, Paul." I leave him.

"Paul. Natalia." Catherine comes up the stairs so all of us expect Natalia bow to her. As we walk some Natalia keeps giving looks to Andrei while fanning herself. "Are you listening? Why are you staring at Count Razumovsky?" Paul notices asking her and Andrei averts his eyes to me. "Was I staring at Count Razumovsky? Don't think I was. I was listening to you, darling. I always listen. You are a very interesting man." She lies to him making me glare at the back of her head. As the four of us take our seats Andrei and Natalia give me a look so she could sit next to him. I force a smile and take the seat on the other side of Paul. "She sounds wonderful doesn't she?" Paul leans over to me as I hear Natalia giggle. I look over at the two flirting making me annoyed. If you're going to cheat make sure to hide it from everyone else at least.

"Yes, she does." I whisper back to him as we watch the show. "I'm sorry for how I acted the other day." He tells me. "That's alright, Paul." I let him know. "No, your my best friend." He makes me giggle. "I thought that was my husband. That's what I hear lately. Now that he's around the palace more." I look at him for a second. "I can't have two? One of each sex?" He smiles. "Well for a man best friend you picked the worst." I let him know. "He has his moments and I know he's a terrible husband to you." He sighs, "You deserve someone who loves you too." He takes my hand into his. I hear Andrei clear his throat so I look back at him giving me a look making me let go of Paul's hand. He looks at me confused as I keep my hands on my lap. Paul tries to reach for my hand again but I move it away from him keeping my eyes on the show.

After the show Andrei comes into my room in a bad mood, "Are you trying get with Paul behind my back?" He asks. "No, but if you and Natalia are going to keep going behind his back don't make it so obvious to everyone else." I say and get back handed. "Don't forget I'm your husband." He walks behind me messing with my dress. I close my eyes trying to to keep the tears in. "Who do you love?" He asks. "You darling." I tell him. "Who do you listen to?" His breath hits my ear. "You." I keep my eyes closed. "Who are you supposed to please?" He touches my neck. "You." My voice almost cracks. "Maybe if you did your job... I wouldn't go behind Paul's back with his wife." He forces me to face him. "Stop being so close with Paul. Do you hear me?" He stares into my eyes. "Yes, Darling." I hold back my tears as he undresses me.

The next day while we spent the day with Paul and Natalia, I stood by myself keeping quiet while Andrei and Natalia flirted in front of Paul. "You are awfully quiet today Lady Lilia." Panin says making me look up from the floor. "Are you alright?" Paul reaches out to touch me back I back away so I don't make Andrei mad with me. "I'm fine." I give them a smile as they talk. "Natalia." Catherine walks up. "Count Razumovsky." She looks at him. "Lilia." She gives me a small smile so I bow. "I want to speak with you, now." She looks at her son and he follows her.

As the two go back to flirting I move to slightly ease drop on Paul and his mother. "If you want to stay married to that insolvent girl, you'll probably have to lock her up." As Paul turns to look at her I move some looking down at the floor. "You have no idea, do you? Even when it's right in front of your nose." She tells him and Panin notices me listening so he clears his throat. "I always thought you and Price Paul would get married." He leans towards me making me laugh. "So did I..." I walk away as Paul leaves his mother.

I decided to go visit my father without telling anyone because it didn't seem important. "My dear daughter." My father smiles as I enter the room. "Father." I give him a hug. "Gisela." He smiles as she walks into the room. "Nice to see you again." I give her a little bow. "Lilia." She gives me a smile. "You two should spend time together. I'll be right back." He leaves us. "I still hear you're not married yet." She sits down with me. "That's actually why I decided to come visit. You see, I was going to tell my father I am but..." I mess with fingers. "But what dear?" She takes my hand into his. "I don't want to be anymore. Him and Natalia, Prince Paul's wife, are having an affair. We never have loved each other for the past two years... Last night was the first and he..." I start to tear up. "Oh honey." She moves closer wrapping her arms at me so I let it out.

"What did I miss?" My father walks back in so Gisela gets up and takes him out of the room. After a few minutes I hear him yelling and she comes back into the room. "Give him a few minutes." Gisela comes back in. As we wait he comes back in handing me a letter. "Read this and then give this to your husband." He hands it to me to read. I read over it and look at him shocked. "Are you serious?" I ask him. "Yes, I didn't have any say and this marriage and I demand it to end. I want you to marry someone you want to marry. You being my only daughter I want you to be happy. You aren't allowed to get married to any man unless you really want to." He gives me a hug. "I sent one to his parents now you give this one to him." He kisses my cheek. "Thank you, Father." I leave his place.

#joseph quinn #catherine the great #prince paul #joseph quinn imagine #joseph quinn fanfiction #18th century

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