#ive slept on them for way too long | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

victoria-grimesss · 9 months

Text

tear you apart - part IV

Shiny new Masterlist

->Pairing: König x fem!reader

->Words: 4.7k

->Warning: MDNI!, fluff, König spilling his heart out to his favorite girl, roadhead, car sex, outdoor oral, face sitting, overstimulation, pretty much porn with plot at this point.

->A/N: A bit different that the other chapter but I wanted to do something a little sweeter.

Your dreams are luxurious and delicious these nights, a whirlwind of experiences ever since you transferred to the new base. You dream of luxuries far beyond your reach with a man who sure as hell should be out of your reach too. You dine on five star meals on the beach, sip champagne in a clawfoot tub overlooking waterfalls, have ravenous passionate love making sessions in silk sheets.

König has rewired your brain and embedded himself within you.

You awake in his bed again as has been the same routine for a few weeks now, you’ve moved a stash of your stuff to his room at his request of course. You don't see each other too often during the day so night and early mornings are the times where you catch up and enjoy eachothers company.

Spending a few spare moments to soak in the smell of the sheets you roll out of bed and notice a flower in a tall glass of water sitting beside a note.

Chicken scratch, yep written by König alright. You smile as you envision him scrawling it quickly before leaving for the day.

My love,

Clear your schedule this afternoon, I plan to take you somewhere very special.

-König, your one and only. (boyfriend) :)

Boyfriend.

Huh I guess that's really what the two of you are now. You both danced around the word for a while now. You suppose you were a couple in the grand view of it, slept in the same bed, ate dinner together, got ready for bed together, said goodmorning and goodnight to each other. You could get used to this. Off base dates are far and few too, sometimes you'll take walks around base, the views are amazing nearby and it makes you yearn for your own country-side cottage with a garden.

You ready yourself and go about your day, you’ve flowed into a nice routine as of late. Get up, sometimes with König, eat in the mess hall, workout, training, dinner with König sometimes, and usually not get a lot of sleep together because he's too busy having your eyes roll to the back of your head.

You can’t complain.

The mess hall is loud and crawling with activity this morning, you enjoy it more than you thought you would. The activity is a welcome distraction from homesickness. You eat in silence, sitting with a few others you’ve somewhat befriended. Bennet hasn't been around lately, thinking of if now you can’t remember the last time you did see him.

You clear your throat,

“Have any of you seen Bennet around?”

One of the other guys laughed.

“Yea I saw him alright. Saw him on his way out. Guy got so scared of the colonel he transferred back to his home base. Guess the two of them clashed over something. But if you ask me, I just don't think the guy was cut out for this line of work.”

“Yeah, that's weird. Strange.”

You continue eating, your question answered to your requirements.

König is intimidating, sure he’s nice to you but you can’t imagine being an outsider, being on his bad side, or god forbid being his enemy. The stories you’ve heard about the things he’s done on the battlefield could make anyone uneasy.

Breakfast finishes up and you head to the gym where you’re thankfully uninterrupted during your workout. Cleaning up you hit your next stop, the shooting range. It’s mostly empty, the weather is nice today so many people are using the outdoor range.

You take your pistol, silencer equipped and a long range sniper down to the last stall and prep your gear.

You use the sniper first and take deep breaths before firing.

The door opens and you assume it’s just someone else using the stalls until a voice makes you jump.

“Hold it higher liebling.”

Your hand grips your heart, putting the gun down you turn fully around, being met with König standing tall with his hands behind his back.

“König, ever heard not to sneak up on someone with a gun?” You lean against the counter.

“Am I mistaken or is that your forte in the field? I’m simply a superior observing my team members, wouldn't want you using the tools the wrong way right?”

He's so quick with his quips, you smile then turn around bringing the gun up leaning your cheek on the side as to see through the scope.

You feel his hands on your hips and he kicks your feet further apart, you look down at his feet that are standing on the outside of yours.

He brings his head down right next to your ear,

“Hold it back harshly into your shoulder, so the kickback won’t knock you down.”

“You’re making it hard to focus.”

“I would assume you would be able to focus even with distractions yea? But I suppose our time in bed has proven otherwise.”

You blush but regain your composure quickly until one of his hands stays on your hips and the other brushes your cheek to move your hair slightly.

You shoot once, then twice, hitting the target both times.

His voice has gotten even lower, whisper dancing the line of soundwaves.

“You read my note yea?”

“I did, plan to tell me where we’re going?”

“Nope.”

He kisses the shell of your ear then your cheek through his mask.

“I will see you later then, you’ll meet me in the lower garage at 1500 alright?”

“Oooh, meeting my big strong colonel in a dark garage, I certainly hope he doesn't take advantage of me.” You laugh and bat your lashes at him.

He squeezes your hip and scoffs playfully,

“Keep talking to me this way and we certainly won’t even make it to the car. Busy yourself and meet me there, don't be late.”

He releases his grasp and you miss it already.

“Shall I pack a bag?” You ask.

“Don't bother, I’ve got everything handled.

“Yes sir.”

He steps away from you, walking to the door ignoring all others in the range and you watch him until the door closes.

Taking a steadying breath you focus once more unto the range, feeling his phantom touch still.

—

You stop by your room before going to the garage, the lights flicker as you shut your door and you grow more and more excited for the evening to come.

Opting for a simple two piece set underneath plain jeans, boots, a simple black shirt.

The walk to the garage is straightforward, taking a dimly lit stairwell downwards and the garage smells of dust and you take it the electrical in this place could use an upgrade. Probably not high on the budget list.

There are rows of military vehicles and equipment, storage and the likes. An area sectioned off from the others hold what looks like personal vehicles, some nice and some looking decrepit.

A door slams in that area and you make your way over,

“König? That you?”

“Y/N, yes it is me! Just finishing up, go ahead and get in the doors unlocked.”

He drives a larger SUV, like the kind you see FBI agents driving, suiting you guess you never really pictured what car he drove but you can assume he drives whatever kind of car he can fit in so style types are probably very restricted.

You enter the car, the inside smelling like leather and the cologne he wears. It’s clean, damn near pristine the same as his room. The trunk closes and he gets in, his seat all the way back, he adjusts and looks over to you, his eyes bright and he's buzzing with excitement.

“Comfortable?” He smiles softly at you, he's wearing a black tactical long sleeve shirt, dark jeans, boots, and his usual hood of course. He looks good in black.

“Very. Can I ask where we're going yet?”

“Nope, just sit back and relax schatz.”

He starts the car and pulls out of the garage, informing the guard of his time away.

The tall gray walls of the base and large fences you know melt away into a wonderful countryside with creeks, tall trees, and rounding hills. König has one hand on the steering wheel and the other on your knee, his thumb rubbing small patterns.

“This is nice.” You breathe a sigh of relief, adjusting in your seat and König’s hand on your knee slips higher.

König looks relaxed, he deserves this. Always working so hard… he should definitely relax.

Your hand wanders from the center console to his arm, rubbing the tight muscles underneath his hoodie. He squeezes the inside of your thigh in thanks.

Trailing your hand down his arm to the outside of his thigh, holding your hand there and tipping your head to look over at him.

He laughs breathily, “What are you doing, liebling?” His eyes shift from the road, your hand, and your face.

“I just want to show you how much I appreciate you, König.” He shutters hearing his name from your lips and your hand moves to the now hardening bulge in his pants, he readjusts his hips to get more comfortable.

“Scheiße, you’re going to get us killed, sit back down I’m serious.”

He’s not serious, there is not even one percent of serious inflection in his tone, he speaks with need, his mouth already being filled with cotton at your movements.

You’ve leaned over the center console, face next to his ear as you unbutton his pants and palm him through his briefs, he’s solid where he sits and your mouth is already watering.

He shutters and his eyes flutter for a second,

“Eyes ahead baby, I can’t do anything if you don’t keep us steady ok?”

He does not answer, the blood isn't in his head anymore anyway, well not the one on his shoulders at least.

The trees race by the window as fast as your thoughts race in your head, you lean down and kiss him over the cloth, you feel his abdomen grow tense.

“I can stop if you really want-”

“Stop right now and I'll turn the car around.”

You grin, mumbling a yes sir before moving your hand under the band of his briefs and giving a kiss to the tip. He takes a steady, concentrated, painful breath in and the exhale is so shaky you feel him tremble.

You give small licks from top to bottom, he’s a big guy so there’s certainly more to love.

“Scheiße, ficken, Liebling ja”

You take him fully in your mouth and he's warm, and fits right in place. You hum and he moans in response, you don’t think you’ll ever tire of hearing him like that. You take what doesn't fit in your mouth within the grasp of your hand starting at a steady pace. The music playing in the car isn't even registering in your head, the heavy weight in your hand and mouth is all you focus on.

“Fuck my love, your mouth feels-feels spectacular, I do not deserve what you give me.”

He groans and bucks his hips up into your mouth, one hand on the wheel and the other gently being placed onto your neck, moving to the back of your head where he gently caresses your hair.

You’re working on him until he begins to shudder and you pull away, he tries to chase you with your hips but you lean back and kiss him on his cheek. His eyes are dark and he glances from you and the road.

“You’re going to kill me, Mein Liebling. He's panting, hand now gripping your hair tighter, you’re far from dry down under and touch his hand that's in your hair and move it down your front and under your pantline. You both moan when his fingers make contact with your wetness, he draws uncoordinated shapes into you, from your clit all the way to your entrance. He presses your entrance through your panties and it’s like he’s knocking on a door asking for permission to grant you the pleasure you oh so want, no need.

“König, please. I need you, I know you need me too.”

You whine, looking down at where his cock sits exposed, leaking heavily with every swipe of his fingers on you.

“My love. liebling.”

He grits through his teeth when you take his hand once more and more your panties to the side allowing him unrestricted access to where the flames burn the brightest.

“Scheiße, du gewinnst” He pulls the car over, sitting on the dirt shoulder of the road, heavy tree cover surrounding you and you hear his heavy breathing.

He puts the car in park, removing his seatbelt and since the seat was already set all the way back due to his size he leans back and pats his lap.

“Come take what you want.”

Eyes dark and hungry he watches you remove your pants and move over the center console onto his lap, his cock sitting right in front of you so it brushes against your stomach, you get a visual of just how deep he will slip into you.

You’re shaking with anticipation when you grasp him again, pumping a few times before raising yourself to tease the tip over your panties.

His eyes are focused on where you touch him, his hands on your hips gently, awaiting your move.

“Get on with it..”

His voice is dark and shadowy, his patience growing thin as you tease and tease him again, he’s a patient man but only for so long.

You play with him until you hear him growl deep in his chest, taking your panties in his grasp and you hear them rip.

“König! You seem to have an affinity for destroying each pair of panties I own.”

You try to quip back but your voice is so breathily and weak it holds no volume.

“I’d rather you not wear them at all, when we have a place of our own you won’t.”

You both moan when he pushes your hips down harshly, he sits fully inside you and you feel euphoric, one because he fills you so deliciously it has your mouth watering again and two he mentioned the two of you having a place of your own. Perhaps it’s him being so drunk on lust he says things he does not mean but your head is already slipping on all sane thoughts so you file that away for later.

His head tips back when he’s fully sheathed within you savoring the warmth and wetness you provide.

“König, fuck. You’re so big.” You whine on top of him and his eyes regain their focus on you, he’s already too sensitive from your mouth earlier you might actually kill him with how tightly you’re wrapped around him.

His grip on your hips is bruising as usual and you have no qualms with it, feeling his grip reminds you this is all real and you need to ground yourself as you begin to move up and down on him the noises amplified in the car.

“Yes, just like that darling, fuck! You’re so, so good, so tight.”

You start to move faster, spurred on by his praises your breathing grows faster as does his. Your hands try to gain purchase on the wheel behind you as you gain more speed, knocking the horn you breathily laugh and he grabs your hands and puts them on his shoulders. You grip your nails into him and he growls, now thrusting up into you he meets you halfway and you’re moaning his name so loudly now your throat hurts.

The windows are fogged and you’re sweaty, hair sticking to your forehead.

He moves one hand from your hip to play with your clit, moving smooth and quick circles into you and you bow inwards your hand slapping onto the cold window, leaving a handprint on the fog it slips down and you wrap both arms around his neck your legs growing shaky and weak from your approaching high.

“König, don’t stop don-don’t stop please please.” You’re whining, squirming, and writhing in his lap an utter and complete mess and he drinks you in. Your pleasure makes his throb and balls tighten as he continues rubbing your clit and thrusting up into you.

“I can feel you getting close, you want to cum yea?”

He’s panting and sounds just as destroyed as you are.

“Yes, I can’t hold on much longer. I want it so bad.” You whine and he stops altogether.

You cry, hitting his chest and trying to move but he holds your hip still.

“König plea-.”

“Beg.”

“What?”

“You want to cum? Beg.” He’s not joking, he’s all serious and you whine again before spewing the filthiest words that’s ever come from your mouth, begging and praising him like a God to be worshiped.

“Please König, god please I can’t, I need it. You’re so big, I need you to make me cum, fuck.”

“Good girl, always listening and doing what I say, I think you deserve a reward.”

Before you can say anything he begins his thrusting and rubbing ten-fold and you once again hold onto him like your life depends on it as you cum harder than ever before, your vision is spotty and he’s praising you through it. He follows you through the high seating you firmly on his lap, holding himself as deep and he can reach and flooding you thoroughly.

You both sit together for a good while, panting growing into soft breaths and you pull away from his chest and look at him, smile on your face.

“You think you can make it the rest of the way now? Are you satisfied?”

He cups both of your cheeks, kissing your nose through his mask.

“I think I'll be ok for a little bit. Maybe.”

You move off of him, both of your least favorite part is when he has to leave your warmth, but he’s never gone for long.

You put on your pants, no panties due to König but you would assume he packed you some more, although his previous words would assume he rather you never wear any.

“Ready?” He’s buckled his pants again and you can’t help but notice the sizable mess you made on his lap, the bottom of his shirt and top of his pants wet.

“König, made a bit of a mess on you, sorry.” You grow shy.

“I like it, it challenges me to make you cum harder the next time.”

Oh God.

He turns back onto the road and you continue your trip down the road, you roll your window down, still warm from your session and the cool mountain air fills your lungs and you rest a hand out of the window.

—

“Liebling, we’re here.”

“Huh.”

You shoot up in your seat, König standing on your right side, the passenger door open his hand gently on your shoulder as he shakes you awake.

“You passed out, I clearly tired you out.”

“Shut up, you’re full of yourself.”

He laughs, offering his hand to help you out, you take it and observe the scenery around you. It’s late afternoon now and you’re parked in the driveway of a small countryside home, it’s dark inside so you can assume you’re not staying with anyone. There’s a large field surrounding the home. Trees lining the meadow and plants that held out over the cold weather stand strong and the evening sun is even a bit warmer than it had been recently.

“König this is beautiful, is this your place?”

“Yea, just somewhere small when I need to get away. Don’t come here often, don’t have many reasons to visit. But I wanted to share this with you.”

He's unpacking the car, grabbing both of your bags.

“Do you need help?”

He laughs.

“No, I do not need help.”

The car is locked and you follow him up the path to the house, clovers dot the front path and a flower box on the window is untouched, dry soil packing the inside.

He opens the door and the ceilings are high, but it’s still cozy, lived in even if he says he doesnt come here often. Shoes are discarded at the door and you hang your jacket on the coat rack.

“This is beautiful König, didn't take you for an interior designer.”

He sets the bags down near the front door and you take in the room.

“I actually had my mother decorate it, I don’t have much of a sense for style like she does.”

“Do you see her often? Your mom.”

“Holidays, I try to call her often but when it’s busy it’s harder. She understands.”

“Well I’m sure she’s very proud to have such an accomplished son.”

He smiles, head tipping down, “I hope so.”

He claps his hands, ending the heartfelt moment.

“You look around, make yourself at home. I will start a fire and later we will go watch the sunset ok?”

“Very well.”

Your heart is giddy and light. He’s so kind and nice and handsome and sweet and a million other words to describe him. The house is more spacious inside than it appears outside, a large archway leads to the kitchen, one bedroom and a nice bathroom. Everything is high up, the shower head is fit just for him, cabinets stacked high, large bed which looks enticingly comfortable.

“König!” You call for him as you look around.

“Yes, mein Liebling.”

“How long are we staying here?”

“Just for the night my love, couldn't get much time away approved.”

“Oh, ok. Will we come back here eventually?”

“If you wish to do so then we will.”

You observe the view out of the window and König wraps his arms around your waist.

“Scared me.” You laugh, your hands tracing along his hands and up his arms.

“My apologies, shall we head outside to enjoy the view?” He kisses the top of your head and you melt once more.

“Lead the way.”

He brings a thick blanket with him outside and lays it down in the meadow, you lay with your head on his chest, his arm wrapped securely around you, watching the multitude of colors paint the sky as the sun descends another day, bringing a sweeping array of stars and cool breezes.

“Thank you König. You’ve been so kind to me and bringing me here means a lot.”

“All that is mine is yours, if you’d allow me I’d like to show my appreciation again.”

You shiver in his grasp and he holds you tighter.

“Yes.”

That's all he needed to hear before he lifts up his mask and takes your lips in his, he trails his lips down to your neck and leaves new bright bruises and snakes a hand up your shirt to play with your breasts, nipples hard from the combination of the cold and his touch.

“Pants off.” He tugs at your waistband and you comply, the cool air hitting your core.

His hand moves down and caresses your body thoroughly, missing no spot.

“Sit on my face Schatz.”

You pause and look at him.

“I don’t want to suffocate you.”

He actually laughs now, a full laugh.

“I will die a happy man.” You push him back, he’s gleeful and you laugh as well.

“No really darling, you will not ‘suffocate me’ get up here.” He uses heavy quotation marks around his words and you carefully make your way up to his face, knees placed on each side of his head.

He lifts his mask right to above the peak of his nose and he licks his lips eagerly, eyes only focused on where you sit above him.

“Take your shirt off too.” He strokes your thighs slowly leaving goosebumps in his path.

“What if someone sees?!”

“No one is coming out here trust me. I wouldn't have you expose yourself if somewhere were to see what’s all mine right?” He bites his lip as you discard you shirt and bra

Completely exposed outside as you sit above a man you care about fills you with a fire once more.

“It is like I have died and gone to heaven, you are breathtaking.” He kisses the inside of your thighs as he talks, leaving small bites.

He truly feels he's undeserving. The setting sun casts a glow on your back where it illuminates your outline in soft light, it casts on the dips and curves of your body, the swell of your breasts softly lit.

He grows hard again in his pants but wants right now to be all about you.

“Now sit darling and relax.” You sit slowly onto his awaiting mouth, hovering over him as he kisses you first and licks from entrance to your clit. He has to lift his head to reach you which frustrates him.

“I said sit.” He grips your waist and forces you to sit fully on his face, his mouth latching tightly onto your clit and you gasp and he moans, eyes rolling back into his head as he tastes you once more. He can taste the both of you from the car ride and he licks feverishly at you making your head spin. The stubble on his face scratching the inside of your thighs so nicely.

You brace your hand on his head trying to make him slow but he won't relent from his work. He’s a thorough man and once he starts a job he won’t stop until it's finished. He works on you and your chest starts rising faster and faster, he sucks licks and ravages like he’s never eaten before.

“König, don’t stop please.”

You moan and tip your head back, he groans as you arch backwards hands bracing on his midsection and you moan freely into the air. His mumbled words vibrate your core and it makes you reach your peak that much quicker.

König doesn't stop, not after you cum and he won’t slow down, his face is soaked and his pupils dilated.

“König it’s too much, please.”

You try to move your hips away and he growls the hands on your waist gets tighter and you’re able to lift just a bit off his lips for reprieve, he whines.

“Please darling, give me another ok? Just a few more.”

You can’t say no to him, he’s licking his lips again, your fluid soaking his face and nose, it glistens in the sunset glow and you can’t say no to him. So you lower yourself again, he smiles as his mouth meets you halfway.

“Fuck, König.” It isn’t long before you cum on his mouth another two times, he’s quick to draw it out of you and he knows what buttons to push and ways to move to make you unravel.

By the end he’s kissing the inside of your thighs again and you pant down at him mind turned to sand by his actions.

“You look beautiful like this, we’ll have to do this more often.” His grip is light and his thumb makes patterns on your exposed skin and you shiver from the cold now, the sun fully set and the stars in full swing.

“Here, let's get you inside, warm up yea?” He gives you his shirt to put on and carries, much to your protest, you back inside where you both shower and sit on the couch in front of the fire.

His arms are wrapped around you and your eyelids grow heavy as you rest on him.

“König.”

“Yes schatz?”

“Did you mean it earlier when you said we’d have a place of our own?”

He smiles, you can’t see it but he hums at the thought. The two of you retire from the force and he can come home to your awaiting gaze and warm touch.

“I would love it, more than anything. You complete me, relax me and ignite fire within me all the same. To live by your side would be eternal bliss.”

“I would love that too.”

You smile and cozy yourself closer to him, your eyes grow heavy and you feel content giving yourself to sleep in his arms.

664 notes · View notes

save-the-villainous-cat · 3 months

Note

villain comforting a VERY beaten hero, platonic cuddling and lots of tears pls

have a nice day <3

“I’m not dead,” the hero whispered.

And yet they were hooked to an IV. And yet they hadn’t been able to breathe on their own for hours. The villain took in a deep breath. Of course, they were angry. Of course, the villain had been losing their mind in this hospital.

Quiet panic attacks in bathroom stalls, litres of coffee, endless questions for the nurses — this day had been way too long for their liking.

“I’m not dead,” the hero repeated a little louder this time. They sat up in bed and their face made horrible grimaces. As they looked around in excruciating pain, they saw the IV and reached for it.

“Hey, what are you doing?” The villain grabbed their wrist before the hero could rip it out.

The villain was sure they didn’t look much better than the hero; they hadn’t slept in forever.

“Lay back,” the villain said gently. They put a hand on the hero’s shoulder and pressed them back into the hospital bed. “It’s a miracle that you’re alright. Thank god you hit the gym. Your fitness basically saved you. Your heart was strong enough to keep you alive.”

The hero sighed and took the villain’s hand. They didn’t seem to be fully aware of it, so the villain just let it happen.

“I’m fine. It’s not a big deal,” the hero said. They closed their eyes. “I’m not dead, I’m okay.”

“You may not care what happens to you but I do. Do you think it was easy to call the ambulance and then disappear into thin air? Only to rush to the hospital as a civilian? Do you think it was easy to watch you bleed out? Do you think it was easy—”

“Shh.” The hero’s thumb rubbed over the villain’s knuckles a few times. They opened their eyes. “Please don’t cry.”

The villain swallowed. They had spent a lot of time with their conflicted feelings throughout the night. Mostly, they had tried to bury them but now that the hero was talking to them, they couldn’t help but splinter a little.

They wiped tears out of their eyes but it didn’t matter: they kept dropping anyways.

“Please…” the villain whispered. “Please don’t send me away like that ever again.”

Not even the hero’s hand in theirs felt strong. The hero was weak, too frail to function properly. All the villain could do was fall to their knees and pray for the hero’s health until their knees bled.

“I’m not going to the gym anymore,” the hero said. “I just fight with you a lot. So, I guess you saved me after all.”

They paused and closed their eyes again. The villain could see a sparkling tear roll down the hero’s cheek. Probably overwhelmed and tired, they leaned back.

Although they didn’t want to admit it, the villain felt responsible for everything. They had always had a special gift of blaming themselves. The hero looked at them through half-lidded eyes.

“I’ve never had any visitors in the hospital before. Thank you.” Their voice was soft, yet raspy. “And I’m sorry for sending you away. I thought I’d be fine.”

The hero had told the villain it was their last wish: for the villain to go home.

“I was scared and I didn’t want you to watch me die,” they said.

“You’re not gonna leave the bed for quite a while. I’ll chain you to it if I have to.” The villain stood up from their chair and sat down on the bed. “Let’s take a break from all this. You’ve suffered enough for several lifetimes.”

The hero smiled softly and then, they squeezed the villain’s hand.

#I hate them #they make me sick #I didn’t make them cuddle cuz I thought it would hurt the hero #and the villain wouldn’t wanna hurt em yknow #hope that’s alright #writing snippet #heroxvillain snippet #heroxvillain prompt #heroes and villains #hero #villain #hero x villain #heroxvillain #an answer for an ask #request #h/c

191 notes · View notes

purplelupins · 23 days

Text

Lamb

Midnight Mass

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V

Father John Pruitt/Father Paul hill x fem!reader

Word count:12.3k

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

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

Notes:

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

You were never a fan of when Beverly was given the opportunity to lead worship. You never felt fully untuned- half of the time it felt more akin to a scolding lesson in school than a reminder of Him. She liked to highlight “them and us” between believers and non believers of Crockett. Somehow she always managed to spin things into belittling those who didn’t attend church, and those days were always a little…tense. This was a time of worshiping and remembering God, not a time of a hierarchy.

“Here we are again. Back to normal. Funny how the pews empty back out once everyone has their ashes, isn’t it?” She paused as if to ridicule the non-churchgoers.

You pursed your lips as she continued, and found yourself looking at small details around the church. Chips in the paint, the crosses, the windows, Father Paul gazing at you-

Startled, you looked back to where you had just been looking and sure enough you caught the Father flicking his eyes away just in time as he bowed his head. You stared at him for a moment, but he was fixated on the rosary in his hand.

Had you imagined it?

You kept your eyes down for the rest of the morning, and ridiculed yourself for thinking the Father would look at you. Why would that be a thought that entered your mind? You didn’t even stop to speak with him after church.

If you had looked behind you, however, you would have seen the Father’s forlorn gaze flickering to your form during his conversations- distracted. He turned back to the islander he spoke to and flashed them a tight smile as they moved on and he spoke to the next person, but John felt a hollowness in his gut, and he wasn’t certain it was from hunger.

Even that night when John went for a stroll down the island like he used to, he stopped several yards from your house and forced himself to turn around. He muttered prayers under his breath the entire way back to the rectory, and knelt before the cross on his wall for another hour before he slept.

“Sheriff? Sheriff!” You yelled as you stepped off your bike at the marina the next morning. You needed a couple things from the Mainland, and had a short list you hoped Hassan would be able to get for you during his time there for his Friday prayer.

The man turned, hand on his hip, “Morning to you too.”

“I have a favour?” You gave him your best puppy dog eyes and clasped your hands in front of you.

Hassan rolled his eyes and huffed but you could tell it was a show, “Out with it.”

“I’m just out of a couple things for the shop and you can get them all at this store- I wrote the address down and the list and it’s close to the mosque you go to! Please? There’s some cash in there too.” You held an envelope out hopefully.

He stared at you for a long moment, then slowly took the paper from you, “This isn’t going to be a habit right?”

“Thank you! Thank you thank you, I promise it won’t.” You bounced.

He fixed you another look, but you knew he was smiling a little under that moustache.

“You’re the best!” You called to him when you hopped back on your bike, “Oh! This is for you.” You reached into the basket and retrieved a brown paper bag.

Hassan smiled a little.

“One muffin and a berry tart.” You returned his smile.

He relented. “Fine, fine. I’ll be back this afternoon.” He grumbled.

“Have a safe trip!” You called, “And hey, you really should wash that jean jacket, Sheriff or it might walk away on its own one day!” You quipped and began pedaling away.

Hassan shook his head. He liked having you around. You were a breath of fresh air amongst the stale islanders, and he hoped he could call you a friend one day.

You knew you were cutting it close for Mass, so you sped your way across the island and up the hill to St. Patrick’s where you were happy to see still a few people filing in. You laid your bike down beside the church and jumped up the steps to go and find your spot. One of the perks of a small town was every person had their spot that they sat in- you never had to fight over it.

Your shoulders deflated slightly when Bev took her place atop the pulpit and began the service. “Our responsorial psalm today is Psalm 27. “The Lord is my light and my salvation, whom then shall I fear?”.”

“The Lord is the strength of my life, of whom then shall I be afraid? When evildoers came upon me to eat up my flesh, it was they, my foes and adversaries, who stumbled and fell. Though an army should encamp against me, yet my heart shall not be afraid. And though war should rise up against me, I will put my trust in Him. One thing I have asked of the Lord, one thing I seek, that I may dwell in the house of the Lord, all the days of my life.” Her reading was simple and dry. You found your eyes glazing over, waiting for the Fathers homily.

Then you mentally slapped yourself. This was a time of worship, it didn’t matter if it was boring. You had grown used to the vivid approach he always took during Mass. You laughed a little to yourself when you thought you were a little addicted to it.

As if someone could become addicted to a preacher…don’t be ridiculous.

You remained seated, and watched as Father Paul approached Leeza first for the Eucharist. You liked that he carried on the tradition of serving her first since the accident, even though he wasn’t there. The amount of respect and care he had for the islanders was so selfless.

“Body of Christ, Leeza.” The good Father murmured just as he always did. So gentle.

“Amen.” She said, cupping her hands out.

Silence fell over the church then. You felt confusion fill you when he stopped just a couple steps away from her, and then even took a few steps back.

“Come on. Body of Christ.” He repeated, beckoning her with the wafer.

“Father, what are you doing?” Wade chuckled nervously.

You looked over at Erin, and she had the same look of slight horror that you did. What was he doing? Surely he didn’t think this was a joke.

“Body of Christ.” He repeated.

“What are you doing?” Wade asked again with more of a bite.

Leeza directed her chair to move forward, but Father Paul only stepped back further.

“No. No.” He muttered, and stepped up the stairs of the pulpit.

The worshipers around you began to murmur. You felt pressure start to build in your chest. Anxiety and ire weighing heavy in your stomach the longer he stood there out of her reach. Was he sick? What was he doing?

“Come on. Body of Christ.” Now his voice echoed in the space as he called the girl up to him. Relentless.

“No, stop it.” Erin snapped as she stood, “That’s cruel.”

“Come on.” He repeated, still calm.

Dolly got up and knelt by her daughter, trying to comfort her, “Leeza, honey.” Then she looked up at the pastor and her eyes were like ice, “What is wrong with you?”

“Father Hill enough.” You spoke- emotion making your voice shake.

But still he only stood and waited for Leeza.

You watched Wade stand with his family, each person growing more and more defensive and outraged, “If this is a joke, Father, it’s not funny. I…”

But then, it was as if all air had left the church- all sound gone too. You didn’t know what it was that you were seeing, and you were terrified to blink lest it go away. All horror you felt sunk into the Earth and your head felt light.

Leeza was standing. Freely.

“Leeza?” Wade asked in disbelief.

A woman across from you fainted as she stood.

Your ears felt all prickly and your fingers felt numb.

You could still remember when the accident had happened. How devastating it had been. Hell you used to walk with the Scarboroughs some nights when they went as a family.

Dolly was a mess for almost a year…now they only managed.

Leeza took a step, and then another, and then she was stepping up the stairs and you felt tears start to well in your eyes as you stared up in shock. You couldn’t blink.

“Body of Christ.” Father Hill said once more, and placed the wafer in Leesa’s hands.

“Amen.” She said, voice wavering.

You released a breath, and tore your eyes from Leeza to look up at the Father. He was watching her with such kindness and pride in his eyes as she turned and walked into her parents arms.

Who was he? How could…how could he have known?

Murmurs filled the church as people praised God and crossed themselves.

But you could only see how Father Hill began to sway and cough. He caught himself on the alter, but then pushed himself towards the back door into the vestibule. Your blood began to run cold with worry as he almost ran out of view.

You would have run after him yourself if Bev hadn’t.

Your head was spinning and you felt disconnected from your body.

You didn’t know what to think or do, so you wordlessly walked to Leeza and embraced her. She held you and wept into your shoulder.

You felt your heart.

It hurt.

Ached.

You walked with the Scarboroughs into town to see Dr. Gunning, and kept quiet to let them speak to one another. Disbelief and awe coloured their words as they encouraged their daughter.You kept one arm under Leeza’s while Wade had the other; they talked, and talked until your face hurt from smiling, and you were helping her up the steps to the doctors house.

It all seemed so…miraculous.

Such a God given gift.

Once Leeza was inside safely, you quietly backed out and waved them off. You began your way to your shop, and the entire walk was within a blink of an eye. You might have looked calm and thoughtful from the outside, but oh your mind was churning.

How? How? You could still remember seeing Leeza for the first time after the accident. How broken her and her family was.

You remembered all the specialists they saw and all the visits they made to the mainland. How some visits left them hopeful but most left them even more lost and helpless than the last.

You knew they barely afforded groceries now because of the bills.

Now, you didn’t know if you should weep out of joy or fall to your knees and vomit. It was as if someone you loved had risen from the dead…certainly it was wonderful but somehow you felt a little weary.

Perhaps it was years of empty promises after the oil spill…

You didn’t even remember doing deliveries that day. But somehow you finished them. News travelled quickly- by the time you had been halfway through people were talking to you about little Leezas recovery. You didn’t remember talking much, only saying what a miracle it was. You were back at your shop, just hopping off your bike when you realized you had completely spaced out the entire time.

How?

How…

How did he do that…

It seemed as if something had taken root in the island and had begun changing the chemistry of everything attached to it. First the good moods, now Leeza was walking down Main Street like nothing had happened.

But then when you walked home, you realised how deeply you were dissecting the wonderful event. You wondered if you had become a sceptic without even knowing. Were you so cynical to Gods powers that you questioned his will?

You sat on the edge of your bed, staring down at the rosary in your hands. The little cross glinted in the darkness.

Faith…

Did you lack it?

Had you begun to loose it?

Were you so ungrateful?

You felt tears prickle at your eyes but you refused to let them fall. You needed guidance, not tears. With a heavy heart, you sunk to your knees and began to pray.

It took a full week for you to muster up the courage to ask the Father for an appointment later on Saturday afternoon. Your day to yourself, and your time to relieve your consciousness. Your day to work on yourself.

Which was why you stood on the rectory’s doorstep, fidgeting.

A part of you told you that you were being needy. Selfish. That you just needed to get your head on straight and that you didn’t need to worry the Father with you being self-centred. That if this had been Father Pruitt you wouldn’t have bothered but for some reason you were more willing to see Father Hill.

You knocked, and didn’t have to wait long before the door was being opened. Father Hill stood there with a welcoming smile, “Right on time.” He said, “Come in, y/n.”

You nodded and quietly entered the small house. It felt so strange to be there alone with him. Not uncomfortable just…odd. Like you were somewhere you shouldn’t be.

“Sit, please.” He gestured to the couch, and dragged a chair over from his desk over to sit in front of you.

You perched on the edge, and folded your hands in your lap, “Thank you, Father…I- I know I was a little vague when I asked you to do this…but if I’m honest I’ve always disliked the confessional booth. I’m um…a bit claustrophobic.” You admitted.

He chuckled a little and shook his head, “No apology needed. Sometimes that anonymity that comes with a confessional isn’t right for every confession. I told you I was here when you needed and I meant that.”

His honesty and understanding put you a little at ease. Your nerves were still very much there, though. There was no backing out of this now, so you took a deep breath.

“Have you…have you ever had difficulties with faith, Father?” You asked, eyes flickering to his white collar for half a second.

John admittedly was not expecting that from you. If the implications were that you were having difficulties with faith, then he was surprised. Regardless, he nodded.

“Certainly…we’re all human, even me, and we are made to have ups and downs no matter how dedicated we are to our Lord.” He said gently, resting his elbows on his knees.

You stared back at him, hard. You knew you were ridged. You hadn’t opened up to a soul about this turmoil you had begun to feel, and you hoped to God that Father Hill was the right person to hear you.

You clenched your hands against each other, and put your trust in him.

“I think…I think I’ve become…” you swallowed again when your throat became tight.

Be straightforward.

“I think I’m losing my faith, Father…” you pursed your lips, “It might sound silly for me to say that because you see me at church every day and I’m committed to the community, but I think that I’ve been losing my true love for my faith for a long time…” you whispered. Hearing it out loud made tears start to well in your eyes. You didn’t know why exactly, though perhaps it was the sense that you had failed yourself, your family, your community and your God.

“I’m here with you, y/n…keep going.” He took your hand, and gazed at you, encouraging you.

You took a tight breath.

“It’s just always been a part of my life- getting up and going to Mass and praying before bed and reading the Bible and being a good girl who doesn’t ask too many questions and puts everyone else first and keeps her head down…” you could feel tears start to fall.

“I never really thought about it but…it’s been a couple years now and…it just gets heavier and heavier and I don’t want that burden.”

You bit at your bit as you let everything out, “I read a lot. The internet connection out here is horrible but I’ve done a lot of research on the Bible to try and deepen my understanding and I just find myself tripping over questions, and holes that don’t have answers…things that have been added only a few hundred years ago and things that have been forgotten or omitted…I’ve never even mentioned this to anyone…I think they would assume I was joking because it’s just…a part of who I am. Who I’ve always been…”

You slowly looked back up to Father Hill, and found him watching you patiently. Non-judgemental, just waiting for you to have your time.

John slowly reached out and took your hands in his. You were hanging onto his every move, and he took your silence as a cue to speak.

“Ma-may I?” He asked, and you nodded, “This isn’t about God.”

You blinked. You weren’t expecting that.

Father Hill started again, elaborating,“You feel you’re losing your faith, but I think what you’re losing is yourself. Your sense of self…so much of having faith is endurance and I know you have that. You have faith, young lady and I know you won’t let anything take it from you. You know how I know?” He asked you.

You shook your head.

“Because you’re afraid.” He whispered, his large thumb rubbing your knuckles gently.

You let a tear fall as you held his gaze.

“Because you came here. Luke said “His mercy extends to those who fear him.” And I think that is exactly what will happen for you. I think your fear of God is just a testament of your faith. And I believe you will be granted a great mercy.”.”He said passionately, “But I think what you are truly going through is a need for guidance in yourself.”

You stared at him for a long moment. Perhaps a full minute.

Another tear fell.

Then another.

Then many.

Until you couldn’t see and your cheeks were soaked.

“Shh…shh, that’s okay, I’m with you…shh.” He cooed to you, “I’m here to help…” the Father scooted a little closer.

You nodded, trying to get a hold of yourself, “Sorry-I’m sorry-“

He squeezed your hands.

Had he been holding your hand this entire time?

You took slow shaky breaths until you could speak again.

“I love everyone here…and I do love my life here. It’s simple and fairly easy…but…I can’t help but feel I’m missing something. Like I pretended to be some expectation for so long that now it’s become me and I don’t know how else to be. But realising it is so much worse than just living that way. Delusion is an amazing thing.”

Father Hill sat still for a moment as he thought. “I think being honest will help that turmoil you feel. Nothing too out of your comfort zone but…just enough that you feel truer to yourself…I have been where you are…many years ago. Just as many have.” His voice lulling you into a state of calm.

You looked up at him, eyes starting to dry.

“I had an older sister…” he said gently, “She passed when I was 8…and her death was why I began to look at God and his divine plan and that was where I found my faith. I questioned why and how her death fit into everything and how her death was justified by Him and…in that quest to grieve and find answers, I found some, but I also found God. You are on a similar journey right now and you will find what you’re looking for. It might even be given to you when you least think it will come to you…it may even hurt at first but in time I think you might grow to see it as a revival.”

His words settled into your head, and you sat in comfortable silence for a few moments. One last tear fell, “Thank you, Father Hill.” You smiled.

The older man reached up and gently wiped that last tear away and patted your hand, “For I am the Lord your God who takes hold of your right hand and says to you, Do not fear; I will help you…” he murmured.

You nodded, and sniffled.

“I’ll make some tea.” He said, and stood after one last reassuring look at you. Somehow his calm seeped into you and your body welcomed it like it was made to. Your shoulders were relaxed as was your jaw. You felt at peace with having gone to him.

John needed a moment away from your proximity. It was a miracle he could keep his composure as you sat there- shooting pains rocked his stomach as hunger brutalized his body.

“I noticed St. Patrick’s has been fuller…” you murmured, wanting to direct attention from you.

“Ah- yes well it seems little Leezas recovery has reawakened the faith of many.” He agreed, regaining a steady voice.

“The island has had a religious revival Father,” you said as he returned with two cups of tea, “The only thing that’s changed…is you.” You looked up from the cup in your hands to gage his reaction. It had indeed been something you noticed, as had many people especially after Leeza…

He tapped the edge of his cup as he took a seat beside you on the couch.

You tried to give him the nudge to speak just as he had for you, “You don’t know what it was like before…I haven’t seen people so engaged in sermons before. You…you have a true gift. You have helped to resurrect this island, Father Hill.”

“I’m glad you see it that way.” He smiled a little.

“You help people everyday.” You turned to look at Father Hill directly.

“So do you.” The man shrugged nonchalantly.

Your nose scrunched a little, “Not really…I try to support my community, but I don’t know about helping.”

“No- no. You do, don’t deflect- you do,” Father Hill shook his head, “You know you do too but you’re so used to it that it’s second nature. That’s a blessed attribute to have.” He insisted, “Especially since things haven’t exactly been easy here since that oil spill. I can only imagine…”

You pursed your lips.

“It’s been…difficult. It’s better now but it was horrible for a long time. I just…” you looked down at the warm liquid in your cup, “I believe you can’t wait for life to be easy before you decide to start helping the people you love.” You muttered.

John felt his heart tug- this time not out of pain. It was a tug of sorrow. As he gazed at this young woman beside him he began to feel as if the two of you were kindred spirits of some kind. You both shared a look, and John found that he had come to understand you a little better, and he began to understand why you were the one he saw first that day on the dock.

You parted ways with the Father sometime later into the evening. It had been a little odd how he had almost ushered you out as soon as he had noticed the darkness outside. He had said something about not wanting a young woman like you being outside at night. You had almost laughed at how old he had sounded.

John had caught the tug of your lips that you hid by ducking your head down. He liked that you smiled around him- that you weren’t afraid…

It would make everything so much easier. You are already to receptive to his guidance…

You left the rectory that night feeling as if something had taken root in you too. Perhaps it was the Fathers spirit of hope settling into your sinew and melding with your blood that had you feeling a little more…looked after.

Cared for.

Seen.

You felt as if you truly were not alone. Like he was always with you even as you walked home.

After your confession, you found yourself bumping into the Father often in town. On a few occasions he walked you home after your working day was done if he happened to be in the area, and you even stopped by the rectory to borrow a book. You found a deep solace being near the preacher, and in your need for a cure to your listlessness, you didn’t even stop to think if you were following his word or God’s.

His sweet, compelling, passionate words that seemed to evoke such a vivaciousness in you.

You started bringing batches of baked goods on Sundays too. Nothing extravagant, but something for the worshipers to enjoy after. There was something in you, pushing you to do better, but on your own terms. Doing it for your own pleasure and not the pleasure of others.

You noticed how that laughter from the potluck was now a common thing. Smiles were normal. You heard people joking, and going for evening walks and morning jogs. Kisses and hugs.

Was there something in the air?

But while you were enjoying your new outlook on life, John could not be more worried for you. It had been two weeks now that he wasn’t able to give you the sacrament. He had tried once more after your first comment but he heard you say something to Bev about it.

Certainly you had a little of the gift in you…but it wasn’t enough. Perhaps a tablespoon. Only enough to make you feel a little brighter, but not enough to…to change. Revive.

He was at a loss.

But the more he prayed, the more he came to realize that perhaps it wasn’t your time. It would come. He knew it would. It had to. And when it did you too would be blessed…even if he was the one to bless you himself.

“Three weeks ago, when we began this journey of repentance, I asked those of you were here to keep a few words in mind. Rebirth, second chances, eternal life. That's a lot to wrap your head around, isn't it? I can barely visualize next week, let alone eternity, But, I mean, for most of us, eternity, it’s an abstract. It’s a metaphor, a colorful exaggeration. When we’re waiting for something we want, it takes forever.We sit in traffic for an eternity. Abstracts, metaphors, colorful exaggerations. To us, maybe, but not to God. Not to Him. ..” he said thoughtfully, “And it shouldn’t be for us, either. Communion, the transformation of bread and wine into the body and blood of Christ. A metaphor? No,” he slapped the pulpit, “God tells us. Miracles, walking on water, rising from the dead. Abstracts? No.” He slapped it again, “God tells us. Eternal life, a colorful exaggeration?”

You heard Wade say “no”, and the verbalisation made you jump a little. No one usually spoke.

“No? That’s right. You call it out.God’s gifts are as tangible as the ground beneath our feet,” he stomped the pedestal, and you jumped again.

“And His covenant, it’s not abstract. No. It’s a contract, scrawled in flesh, inked in the blood of the martyrs. And yet, try as we might, we cannot visualize, we cannot mentally picture the rewards promised…” you noticed him fan himself for a moment, and you were suddenly snapped from your trance.

Was he alright?

“Well, if you’re here seeking to know answers to the unknowable, it’s incumbent upon me to tell you that I have none. And if you want to know why or how God’s will shapes the world, brothers and sisters, so do I. I don’t have all the answers. Nobody does. What I do have though, and what God gives us plentifully, are mysteries.God gives us miracles very rarely, here and there, but mysteries?…”

Your worry began to grow when the Father stopped all together. He seemed to adjust himself where he stood, though somehow he still didn’t seem quite right.

“Sorry. Um…As… adults, we tend to dislike mysteries. We… We feel uncomfortable not knowing.No. To be a child. To look with awe and wonder, and live with staggering honesty. To be guiltless, light as air. To bend softly as the word of God sweeps…” he speech began to grow almost wandering. As if he wasn’t entirely lucid…almost like the old Monsignor-

John felt his stomach twitch with pain as he stood before his growing flock. He could barely see let alone think as his body seemed to betray itself.

“I’m very sorry. I’m…Sorry, I’m just a little bit tired today. A tiny dizzy spell. It’s passed. I’m fine. Sorry. I’m very sorry. Um…The more that we know, the less we bend. The more brittle we become, the easier to break. Like some would say this island broke. Was broken. But I am here to tell you…the resurrection, body and soul, the redemption, body and soul, the miracles waiting for us here on Crockett Island. Not metaphors, not abstracts, not colorful exaggerations, no. Rebirth, second chances. Eter…”

You watched in horror as Father Hill tumbled to the ground with a thud. There was a rush to help him, but your mind seemed to click into gear when you quickly grabbed one of the phones left on a pew and dialled Dr. Gunning’s office.

She barely got a word out before you; your voice shook as you spoke quickly, “The- Father Hill- he’s collapsed, please come up to the church, Doctor.” You rushed out.

“Calm down, calm down, is he breathing?” She said, calm as ever.

You stood quickly and rushed over to the crowd. Without a thought, you knelt beside the Father and placed your ear on his chest.

“What on earth-“ Bev started to ask, from her spot beside you, but you didn’t pay attention as you sat up again and put the phone to your ear.

“Yes he is.” You said.

“I’ll be there soon. Get him some air if he wakes up.” She sighed.

You nodded, and hung up.

“Well?” Bev snapped at you.

You blinked, “Dr. Gunning- She’ll be here soon…water- uh can- can someone get some cool water and a towel please?” You tried to think of anything you could do to help in the meantime.

Someone started to go, but it seemed Bev wanted to be involved. “I’ll get it.” She huffed and disappeared from your side.

Wade crouched beside you, and checked over Father Hill. He looked over at you and you gave him a reassuring smile. “I think the Father could use some air, Mr.Mayor.”

He nodded and looked up that the distressed crowd.

“It’s alright everyone. If he could get some room please? He needs extra air…Sturge could you open the door please?” Wade asked.

The man in question nodded and did as he asked while the townspeople began to disperse.

Bev returned a moment later and you took the cloth from her and dampened it from the bowl of water.

“Thank you…” you mumbled, then very gently began to dab at Father Hill’s forehead, then at the skin peaking out from his chasuble around his neck.

A few minutes passed with Beverly fussing in the background, but slowly you noticed his colour returning, and eyes start to flicker until they opened slowly. You felt relief fill you up and you sighed.

John gazed up at you and he swore there was a halo surrounding your head as you sat over him. Your brows scrunched in worry, but your watchful eyes gazing down at him.

“Glory be…” Came his whisper.

You looked down at him and wiped his brow once more. The man blinked a few more times then went to sit up, but several hands rushed to keep him down.

“Slowly, Father…slowly.” Someone said.

You helped the Father rise up to sit, and dabbed the back of his neck. “You passed out Father.” you said.

“I’m sorry- so sorry…” he nodded. grinding his teeth slightly when a wave of pain hit him, “I’m…uh not sure what’s wrong with me today.” He said as humorously as he could, though both he and the islanders knew there was nothing to joke about.

Even as you watched Sturge and Wade help him into the rectory with Sarah and Bev, you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something gravely wrong with him. Not that you have ever exactly noticed anything…but certainly there were times where he seemed to almost clench, and work through a minor pain- covering it with a cough or stretch. Things that were so barely there you wouldn’t even think twice.

While that day was your day to yourself and the shop was closed, you found that you were listless. Worried, curious. Fretting.

So silly really.

You mindlessly baked a batch of muffins, and remembered halfway through how much the Father liked them. On more than one occasion he had stopped by to purchase a few.

You put a few in a container, and set out on your bike across the island. You hoped he was doing well… if he didn’t answer you were content with just leaving them on his stoop, though you found yourself wanting to see for yourself that he was alright.

You leaned your bike by the church, and strode over to the rectory. It was still afternoon, and you hoped you could catch him before he went to the Gunnings. You thought it was so sweet that he did that for Mildred.

You knocked, and waited. It was quiet for a long moment, then the door opened slowly. Father Hill stood before you disheveled. His top button was undone, collar missing, and his hair looked to have been brushed back with his fingers.

“Oh- y/n please…come in.” He moved aside.

You looked to the side then slowly walked into the small home. It was cozy and simple. It felt warm. “I’m so sorry for bothering you father…I’m sure you’ve had plenty of people coming by to check on you…” you trailed off, looking for a spot to but the container down.

“Nonsense…I was hoping you could come actually…” he said quietly, gingerly perching against the edge of the kitchen counter, “I wanted to thank you.”

That caught you off guard.

You blinked, and shook your head, “What for?”

“For extending that helping hand of yours to me. It was a joy to be helped by you. A blessing- you are a uh, a blessing.” Father Hill stared back at you like he meant every word he said and more, though you couldn’t help but notice the slightly delirious stare he had.

You hadn’t expected anything like this when you had set out to drop off the muffins still in your hands, but you found yourself growing warm at his praise.

“I-well I just…-“

“Just what? Did what anyone would do?” He cut you off, smiling a little wearily.

“Yes…”you admitted.

“And did anyone else do what you did?” He prodded, head tilting so slightly to the side.

You looked down, then back up at him, and shook your head.

“And now you come here again to my aid with something that is not a casserole you see you truly are just wonderful.” He smiled a little more, and you did too, and laughed.

“Ah… the Crockett islanders at their finest. If ever you’re sick you will have at least a few of those in your fridge by night fall.” You joked, though it was true, “I- um I remember you liked those muffins that I made last week and I was worr- I made some extra and thought you might like them.” You caught yourself.

“Thank you, dear girl…” he said, but winced when he went to say something else. You placed the container down on the counter beside him and gently put your hand on his arm.

“Father? Are you feeling dizzy?” You asked.

“I- I am just a little…” he admitted, blinking a few times to get through the fog.

“I’ll help you to your room. Rest for a while, alright?” You took his arm and slowly directed him to the back of the rectory where you assumed he slept.

“I’m fine…just tired.” He tried to reassure you.

“I’m sure you are Father.” You walked him to the edge of his bed, and sat him down, “Rest. I’m sure you’ll feel better in the morning.”

“You’re a good girl, y/n, thank you. You’ve made this adjustment blessedly easy.” He told you, staring up at you.

You saw something in his weary gaze then. You didn’t know what it was. But you somehow noted it in your mind.

You squeezed the hand of his that held yours, “Rest, Father. God willing, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Father Paul nodded, “You will.” He smiled weakly.

You released his hand, and gave him a small wave before leaving the small house. You felt sorry for the man being all alone there, but you were sure Bev would be by to pester him soon if she hadn’t already.

Then as you picked your bike up, you heard the crunching of gravel under shoes. You looked up to see the very woman. “Hello Bev.” You called to her.

“Ah, y/n. I do hope you haven’t bothered Father Hill too much.” She smiled tersely.

“Not at all. Just dropped off something that wasn’t a casserole.” You smiled a little more genuine.

“Well, thank you for your contribution. Very kind.” With that she turned and began to walk past you. You half considered telling her he was resting, but you knew it wouldn’t deter her. You sighed, and peddled away.

Another shift had begun around you. Off balanced.

You noticed it in small things.

Not necessarily bad, but not especially good. Less and less wildlife hummed around the bushes and trees, and you noticed how there was such a divide between the attitudes of church goers and non. Conversing with someone who didn’t attend now felt like a bucket of cold water in comparison to those who you saw regularly. Like there was a bubble around the parishioners. And you weren’t certain you liked that.

Your worry only deepened when you went to Mass the next morning only to see that it would be candelled that day. A frown tugged at your mouth, though you tried to not think too much about it. The Father was ill, you knew that. It was nothing else but that.

It wasn’t as if you knew that the very man was dodging the gaps in the curtains to look out at his flock returning to their homes and jobs without their daily Mass. And of course there you stood- a worried look muddling your beautiful face.

Had you always been so pretty?

Vibrant.

A halo around your hair where the sun caught it.

John watched you back away from the church, though he saw you clench and unclench your hands and look to and from the church to the rectory. You wanted to check on him. Such a dutiful lamb.

Something visceral in him made him nearly open the door and call you inside. Beckon you to him. Just as he felt that need there was an ache in his mouth like he needed to bite, hard. A side affect to…to dying he supposed. He put his trust in God but this hurt was unbearable.

John prayed and wept and doubled over as he accepted and waded through the pain. The bulk of it finally subsided by the evening. It seemed almost as if as soon as the sun had gone down his body relaxed.

Just a little.

Enough to make himself look presentable, and step out from his front door no matter how nervously.

Like his body knew he was safe with the sun down. No more burns.

As he strode across the island, John found himself marvelling at the new-found beauty around him. Living halos of light around the stars, and lamplights. Colours and smells and sounds he had never experienced. He could almost feel the earth breathe.

Seeing Millie in her home that night was something special. She remembered him. Saw him. He could have weapt just by seeing the look of recognition on her face. Feeling her hands hold his and that smile. John’s heart ached.

As did his stomach. Painfully.

So hungry.

John hurried along after the little reprieve with Mildred, but found himself taking a little detour. He didn’t mean to; his feet just took him that way. Just a little bit of a longer walk home.

Past your house.

Your curtains were open again.

John found himself walking a little closer, something enticing drawing him in. He stood just outside your window. You were just getting ready for bed…he could almost smell you; all fresh from the shower.

John sighed, then winced when another surge of hunger punched his stomach. That ache he had felt in his jaw returned tenfold, and he felt his vision start to fade.

There was nothing to do but get back to the rectory. Quickly. John employed his long strides and muttered prayers under his breath. He needed to be away. Hide. There was no preparation for this next phase of revival. He wasn’t ready. This deep carnal hunger was eating away at him. He needed more of the sacrament.

Now.

He needed help. John paced the rectory, and felt his nerves and veins and muscles and tendons tugging at him, begging him for nourishment. Feed me, Father, feed me.

“Angel of God my, guardian dear to whom Gods love commits me here…”

He mindlessly grasped the bottle of communion wine, and let it empty down the back of his throat yet it somehow wasn’t enough. He needed more.

More more-

“Uh…Father?”

Something deep inside John Pruitt unfurled then. It began to seep into his tissue and into his bloodstream. John turned, startled.

“Oh…Hello Joe.”

The following morning was a little bit of a slow one for you. You half considered calling the rectory just to see if there would indeed be Mass at all, but decided against it. You brushed your hair, and tied it back; grabbed any extra ingredients you needed for the morning and set off.

Even as you kneaded the doughs and whipped cream and stirred batter you found yourself lagging.

The walk to Mass was slow too.

Off kilter.

You took your usual seat, but your brows pinch together when you saw Ali sitting not too far from you. You looked to see if Hassan had come with him, but to only deepen your confusion, he was alone. You leaned forward a little in your pew, “Ali?” You murmured loud enough for him.

The boy jumped a little, but relaxed when he saw it was you.

“Come.” You smiled and patted the spot beside you, and he instantly looked grateful. Ali stood and made his way back to you, and you sent him another smile as he sat. You didn’t ask him why he was there, it wasn’t your business. You had always liked Ali- a sweet boy with good manners for the most part.

Then, you looked to the other side of the church, and noticed that Erin was missing. She never missed Sunday Mass. Never.

Something in your stomach curled tight.

An anxious feeling of anticipation.

Without the presence of Father Hill to envelope the church, you found yourself gazing around the building. You looked at the windows, and the pews until your gaze fell upon the wooden figure of Jesus crucified.

Had it always been so grotesque?

Were you worshiping a man? God was supposed to be a being that governed over everything…omnipotent…why would he descend to earth in the body of a man? Why would he need to if he created messengers like Moses and Noah and so many others…

Your mind began to spin out of control until you were starting to wonder what you were doing there.

The distress you felt only grew deeper when a half hour passed, and Father Hill still hadn’t made an appearance. You looked over at Annie, then even looked up at that back of Bev’s head as if she might have an answer written there.

Finally the woman had had enough and made her way to the rectory. You perched on your seat, waiting for anything to happen. It was nearly another twenty minutes that passed before Bev returned- faux smile already on her face as she took a spot upon the pulpit.

“Good morning!” She began, “Well I have to tell you it is such a delight to see this church so full every day, thank God. I'm afraid this morning though that we have to - well, I think we'll have to cancel Mass.”

You scrunched your brows in surprise. But then that feeling you had had inside you tilted again, a little more in the wrong direction. Twisting. You felt nauseated.

“Father Paul's bouncing back from a stomach bug, poor thing, and I just had to physically restrain the dear man and put him to bed, he was so determined to be here! He'll be back on his feet in just no time at all but this morning, at least, our dear Dolly Scarborough - come up here Dolly…” she encouraged Dolly to come up beside her, and while the good natured woman did, she was just as confused as the rest of the churchgoers.

There had certainly been times with Monsignor Pruitt when his health was hanging by a thread and Mass was cancelled but…Father Hill was in prime condition how could he still be so ill?

“Uh, maybe Dolly can lead us in singing, and some readings, and some prayer, and we can still celebrate together, like the Christians of old, who sang praises to God long before they had priests to lead the way. Uh let’s start with Hymn number 473, "Be Thou My Vision". Dolly, can you lead us?” Bev looked over to Andy who began to play his organ, and slowly everyone followed Dolly’s singing.

But then you watched as Bev began to leave again, this time accompanied by Sturge and Wade. They disappeared out through the vestibule, and you mentally snapped yourself back from trying to see what happened.

Your curiosity started to gnaw at you so badly you almost missed the cue to sit down.

Mass ended simply…or rather it deflated. A somewhat awkward shuffle out the door was the end of Mass that day. Murmurs and worries stares at the rectory as everyone filed out and meandered down the hill to Main street.

You glanced over to the rectory, and paused when you saw Bev exit. You moved a little back from the entrance along the side of the church to catch her.

“You’re sure Father Hill is alright?” You asked her as she strode to the back door of the church.

“Just fine. In need of a little more rest we think. Nothing to worry about.” She said a little more brightly than usual. You felt in your gut there was a lie in her words.

“Annie’s making a hearty stew tonight I could stop by and bring him some-“

“No!” She snapped, then softened a little when she saw how startled you were, “No, no he needs to be undisturbed today. Thank you, y/n. Bless you.”

You nodded slowly, and flicked your eyes over to the small building. You could have sworn you saw the curtain move.

“Alright, Bev…take care.” You said. Something was making your nerves itch under your skin. Like an internal fear response that you didn’t usually need.

A cord was plucked inside you.

A voice inside you telling you to leave.

It wasn’t that Bev had snapped at you, or that you felt she was hiding something. It was that St. Patrick’s had always been a place of peace and safety for you, and now you found yourself wanting to be far from it. You feet almost itching to run.

You didn’t run. But you did walk quickly. You wished you had taken your bike that day.

You cast one last look at the rectory. Sturge and Wade still hadn’t come out.

Your feet acted for you, and carried you away from the church. Away from that itch.

Once the general store came into view, you hesitated in going directly to your shop. Since Mass had ended early, you didn’t need to start deliveries yet; instead, you walked into the store, and towards the sheriffs office. You waved at the old man working at the counter- Gerald- and knocked on the officers door.

“Come.” Came his voice.

You opened the door, and sure enough, Hassan was seated at his desk, reading a paper from a file on his desk.

“What can I- oh.” He said, then stopped upon seeing you, “Y/n? Everything alright?” He was suddenly concerned at the prospect of you coming to his office.

Your eyes widened, “Oh- yes fine. Sorry um…I just… I don’t know if you want to…talk about it but…I saw Ali today. At Mass.”

Hassan sighed heavily, “Ah…yeah he…” he didn’t finish his sentence.

“Curious?” You asked.

But the man only sighed again, “I love that my son is interested in God and looking for him…but…” he started.

“But you already have God.” You finished for him.

He nodded, “He’s not praying with me anymore…we fight…he just…I can’t lose him.”

You nodded, “I know…I can keep an eye on him, if you’d like?” You offered a little weakly- you knew there wasn’t much you could do.

“Thank you…I don’t want to discourage him but …he’s not Christian. He knows why we’re Muslim and it’s…” he didn’t know where to start with the issue. “Bev Keene handed out bibles at school last week. Since then…” he look his head, “I think he mostly is interested in it because he wants to fit in.” Hassan sighed and rubbed his brow.

You nodded, “I’m sorry Hassan…this…this must be hard to watch. Doesn’t help that he’s a teenager. Teens are…difficult to reason with.”

He huffed out a bitter laugh, “I only pray that he returns to his faith.”

“God willing, he will.” You didn’t know how to comfort the man, but it seemed that just having someone there helped.

“Inshallah…” he muttered.

You tilted your head in question.

“Means “God willing.”…” he explained.

“Ah…” you said. Silence filled the office, and you clasped your hands. “There’s…have you thought about asking to be stationed somewhere else? Maybe somewhere with other Muslims? He might just be missing that connection…”

“I’ve thought about it…hard to uproot a kid again though.” He crossed his arms.

You wanted to help him. You really wanted to help. This man was alone, and was practically ostracized by the very town he was supposed to protect and serve. You were almost certain you were the closest thing he had to a friend, and you needed to say something.

“You know…I don’t really fully believe Jesus is God.” You blurted out.

He looked up at you then.

You flushed. You hadn’t meant for it to come out like that, “Sorry…I just…just because I go to Mass doesn’t mean I believe everything.”

“Aren’t you Christian?” He asked.

“I…used to be. It’s more of a habit that I go to church. Been going since I was a kid. But…when you first came here that was the first time I heard about Islam…properly. You don’t believe Jesus was god either right?” You asked.

He shook his head.

“He was just another messenger…prophet. I did some reading a while ago and I found that the holy trinity is actually a new thing in Christianity…and I began to wonder what else was “new” or what had been taken out…I guess I’m just trying to say that…Ali might look for God somewhere else but you never know…he might find that the church is flawed and just come right back to you and Allah.” You mused.

Hassan felt tears prick at his eyes. “Thank y/n…thank you.”

You smiled, and nodded, “I’ll um…I’ll leave you to it. Come by later. Lunch is on me.”

“You’re gonna make me fat.” He grumbled

“A little pudge is cute.” You shrugged as you opened the door.

“You’re a bad influence.” He shot back- his walls back up as the door to the outside opened- literally.

“Guess you’ll just have to lock me away, sheriff!” You chirped, and smiled, then closed the door.

But as you turned away and walked back through the shop, that smile faded away.

Everything was changing.

Fast…so fast. Hassan and Ali had been on Crockett for close to a year, and you had never heard Ali mention something about church.

You knew the miracle with Leeza had been drawing many people in, but you could still accept it as a miracle without changing your beliefs.

Did he just want to fit in?

Was he just curious?

Then you remembered how you had felt that morning as you waited for Father Hill. That feeling of trepidation that seeded in your navel and seared into your fingertips.

When you unlocked the door to your shop, you wondered if it was because there was nothing to distract you as you sat in the church. Everyday there was something to keep you busy- the doddering Monsignor or now the invigorating Father. Something to guide you. But once you were left with your thoughts…you started to think a little too much.

Now you weren’t stupid- far from it. You thought a lot. Constantly. But there was something pressing about sitting in that church. You almost felt like you had woken up when you had stood outside the rectory.

Nervous.

Yes you had felt…so nervous as Bev stood there with you.

You wondered if that was how lambs felt before they were taken for slaughter.

Oh what a gruesome thought…pull yourself together.

You were spiralling into the morbid.

Tomorrow would be better.

You focused on that. Yes. Yes tomorrow would be better.

GOOD FRIDAY MASS AT 8PM

E4STER VIGIL SUN MIDNIG-

You watched as Sturge finished with the H and T.

That chord in you struck again. You twitched. The dread in your stomach rolling around like a marble on a metal track.

Leeza stood beside you, confused as ever, “Wait…you're saying every night? No morning Masses at all?” She asked.

Sturge sighed, “Time being.”

Your brows scrunched up, but you schooled your expression when Leeza looked over at you. No need to let her see your worry.

“Father Paul probably just needs another morning or two to recover from that head cold- but he’ll be up and about tonight. Isn’t that right Sturge?” Wade tried to reassure the crowd as a good mayor should, but you knew Wade. And you knew something wasn’t right.

“Yessir, spoke with him myself this morning’…feeling’ much better.” Sturge agreed.

You looked over at the weathered man, and noted that he was off too.

Rehearsed.

You made Sturge a birthday cake every year and the extent of his appreciation was a “Thanks.” Sturge was never a man of many words, and defiantly wouldn’t over explain something.

Wade nodded now, “Dolly spoke to him too and he had a few things to say about Good Friday isn’t that right, honey?” He asked his wife.

You turned to the woman in question, and saw that she was looking somewhere else.

“Dolly?” You heard Wade say, but he trailed off

You saw what she was looking at, and you understood why. You had seen Mildred Gunning now a few times on your deliveries to her house, but seeing her up and walking outside made you stop short. Certainly you had noticed how she was practically aging backwards, but you had only assumed Sarah was trying a new treatment for her.

But this. The walk across the island was a half hour on a good day. And there she was in her Sunday best.

The crowd of islanders began murmuring amongst themselves, and began embracing the older woman. You held back just a little, though your practiced smile was on your face. Your eyes found Sarah beside her, and somehow you weren’t sure if you found solace or anxiety in what you saw there.

She had the same look on her face that you were hiding on yours under your smile.

It wasn’t grim, but it wasn’t joyous.

You slowly began back into town. You missed Mass. You missed that energy that the good Father Hill brought to the church. You missed-

You shook yourself.

Stop it.

What’s wrong with you?

Suddenly, that perfect little routine you had made for yourself for years…was crumbling. You no longer felt the peace you once did, and now it seemed you had to flip the routine completely.

Nightly Mass.

You pursed your lips.

“Have a minute?”

You turned and saw the Sheriff coming towards you as you unlocked your door.

You nodded and grinned softly, “Morning, sure thing.”

The two of you entered the little store and you closed it behind you.

“Everything okay?” You asked when Hassan stood quietly.

“You know that kid, Bowl?” He asked.

You blinked, “Sure I do. Bit of a troubled kid.”

Hassan nodded, “You seen him lately?”

You frowned, “Can’t say I have.”

“Alright…worth a shot. You’re the youngest one here aside from the kids so…just wanted to ask.” He sighed.

“I’m sorry…” you wrung your hands, “Have um…have you seen Joe lately?” You asked, suddenly remembering the quietness in the sheriffs office and lack of grumbled greetings.

At that the sheriff hung his head a little, “No…no but I need to speak to him…I’ll let you know if I find him.”

You took a breath in and held it a little to try and calm yourself, “Alright.”

“I’ll see you later, y/n. Don’t work too hard.” He murmured, as he opened the door.

“You too, Hassan.” You said a little absentmindedly.

He left you to your thoughts. With Mass cancelled again, you had far too much time to kill before you really needed to start deliveries.

You sat on your little stool behind the counter, and found a book Father Hill had lent you almost a week ago under your receipt box.

The Divine Comedy: Dante’s inferno.

You began to read. Too afraid to let your thoughts run rampant again.

Nightime wasn’t much better. You felt something pulling in you to go and visit the rectory. No one outside of the Scarboroughs, Sturge and Bev had seen the Father, and there was that nagging feeling in you that you needed to see if he was alright. Why couldn’t he just come out to tell everyone he was on the mend? What was there all this dancing around?

You stood on your porch, cardigan pulled tight around you as you fought with yourself internally.

Then, just as you went to take a step, a gust of wind pushed you back. You felt that anxiety strum within you once again. Your gut cried to you to not go, and with blood running cold, you went inside and shut the door.

You closed your curtains that night, and prayed to any God that would listen. You didn’t know why fear had rooted itself so deep within your heart, and somehow that frightened you more.

You were afraid.

So afraid.

Good Friday. You put on that dress your mom had gotten you last year for Christmas- she said it brought out your eyes. You grabbed a warm sweater, and socks, and left for Mass.

It was strange walking across the island as the sun set. You strode calmly, pushing that nagging feeling that sat in the back of your throat away.

“Y/n!”

You turned and saw Sarah and Mildred walking behind you not too far. You smiled, “Hello you two!” You chirped. You might have been suffering from an internal turmoil but you weren’t about to let them know.

“Sarah, Mrs.Gunning. Happy to see you both coming tonight.” You smiled and fell into step with them.

Mildred nodded, “It’s been years…” she mused, then stopped and held your arm, “You’ve been so good to us over the years, dear…Sarah’s been telling me and…I wanted to thank you.”

You waved her off and smiled, “Oh it was nothing. Happy to make your lives easier.”

“You have…really. Thank you.” Sarah nodded, a tight smile on her lips.

“You’re a good girl, y/n.” Mildred smiled gently.

You returned it, “Come on…hopefully Father Hill is well enough to preach today.”

The three of you walked the rest of the way, and you noticed how many times Mildred was stared at. She smiled and nodded when people looked, breaking any tension. Then as you walked up to the church, you saw Bev standing to greet the parishioners.

You smiled at her, though she looked straight past you to greet Mildred. You nodded to Sarah, and left them there to talk.

You took your seat, and not long after, the Gunnings took theirs directly in front of you. You wondered if that was where Mildred used to sit before she grew too ill.

Several more minutes passed, until you heard that low voice of the good father from the door of the church to begin service, “All rise for our processional hymn- number 139 in the red hymnal: At the cross , at the cross.”

You rose to your feet, and began to sing, but you couldn’t help but feel relieved that Father Hill was alright. It had been days since only a couple people saw him, and while you would never assume any deception from your elders…the secrecy seemed so strange.

“They took the body of Jesus, and bound it with the burial cloths along with the spices, according to the Jewish burial custom.” Dolly stood on the pulpit, reading from her bible. The church was full around you, and you found yourself slowly feeling at ease. You felt so silly for having been distressed.

“Now in the place where he had been crucified, there was a garden, and in the garden, a new tomb in which no one had yet been buried. So, they laid Jesus there because of the Jewish preparation day. For the tomb was close by. The Gospel of the Lord.” She finished.

“Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.” You and the other churchgoers answered.

Then as soon as Dolly stepped down, you found your eyes locked onto Father Hill as he took his place. You took a moment to take him in after it being a few days of not seeing him. Indeed he did look well- skin no longer waxy and pale. There was something else to his presence though, and you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. It almost felt like…home. What you came for. What you took comfort in.

That thought startled you.

“Good Friday. This is one of my favorite days of the year. The passion of our Lord. Just that word, “passion.” The word “passion,” it means a strong and barely controllable emotion. Barely controllable. That’s what Jesus felt when he gave his life for us, so that we might have life eternal. What a gift, told so beautifully in the Gospel of John. “Gospel” means good news! Good news on Good Friday. And yet, it’s a story of such profound suffering. What’s so good about that?” He paused to take in the filled church. You could see the pride he felt having brought the community together. You smiled a little.

“Jesus’s suffering in this story, it isn’t simply necessary. It is good. It is the price of eternal life. That suffering, he endures alone. At the Resurrection, he is alone. And then… Well… Ah, he has a few allies. And then more. A congregation. And then more and more people spread that good news. Tell that good story. And then, God has an army. What do they say in that commercial? Uh, “Be all that you can be.” Well, I mean no offense to the armed services, which are necessary and of course honorable, but that’s not all that you can be. In the Army, you’re fighting for God and country.”

You heard a few people murmur amongst you; admiration shining in their eyes as they listens to their preacher.

“Now, I am going to offend you now, but it is the truth. God does not want you to fight for this country. The arrogance… of that. God has no country. There is one God for the world. And the lines we draw, and the treaties we draft, and the borders we close mean nothing to Him. No, don’t fight for a country. You fight for God’s kingdom. A kingdom which Jesus tells us has no flags or borders. God’s army.”

You felt your throat tighten and your nose prickle.

“Now make no mistake. It is a war. That’s what an army is for.So, as a congregation, as God’s army, how do we know how the fight is going? We can’t see it. We can’t radio HQ for a status report. All we have, all God gives us, is right here.” He pointed to his chest, “How we feel. That moral compass inside each one of us pointing due north to the Holy Spirit. Conscience. In the army of God, conscience is standard issue. There are many like it, but this one is mine. You may think that that’s a line from a war movie, but it isn’t. That’s actually the Rifleman’s Creed. And a creed is, by definition, not just a belief, but it is a religious one. ” You could feel yourself hang onto each word. Rapt.

“So, it is a war, and there will be casualties. And we must be soldiers. That is what Good Friday is about. God will ask horrible things of you. Horrible. Just look at what He asked of His own son. Just look at what Jesus had to endure today. We had to call it the “New Covenant,” because God’s will, while perfect, changes.God’s will dictates morality, and as God’s will changes, so does morality change. It changed with the New Covenant. It changed when Jesus came, and we must, as his army, shed the Old Covenant and listen only to that. You rely on that compass. Good Friday is only good. The Gospel of the Lord, so full of horror, is only good, because of where it is headed. The Resurrection. Today is only good because of what’s coming Easter, this Sunday. When Jesus is risen, and death itself is lain dead. What is otherwise horrible is good because of where it’s headed. Welcome to God’s army. Yeah, we’re gonna do great things.”

Your blood rushed in your ears as Father Hill finished.

You somehow felt refreshed…full. You supposed you needed that sense of belonging amongst the other islanders. But when you went to converse with the Gunnings, you were surprised to see them already shuffling out towards the door as soon as Sturge had opened them. You wondered if perhaps it was all too tiring for Mildred and they needed to get home soon.

You sighed, and stood to find Annie. She was there with Ed, but they seemed off too. “Hi Annie, Ed…any plans for Easter?” You asked as you joined them in the thinning crowd.

But then you saw the anxiety in the older woman’s eyes. You knew instantly that something was very wrong. “Annie?” You asked, putting a hand on her arm.

“Oh it…it’s nothing. You know me.” She waved it off, “We uh were thinking of having a nice family dinner. You’re welcome to come of course.” She forced a smile.

You waited patiently with a gentle nod until she told you what was going on. She always did.

“Riley…he- we haven’t seen him all day.” She finally said.

Your brows pitched in worry, “Oh I’m- I’m sorry…maybe he’s with Erin? They’re close right?” You asked, trying to keep their spirits up.

“Probably. Like I said it’s nothing.” She reassured you again, “Anyways, isn’t that the dress your mom got you? What was it…your birthday last year?” She changed the subject, and you let her.

“Christmas.” You smiled, “Thought I’d pull it out of the closet.”

“You look lovely. See you tomorrow?” She asked, already moving out and down the aisle with the remaining parishioners and pulling Ed with her.

“Most likely! You know me…always around.” You nodded, following after them.

“Take care now!” She called back, and her husband gave you a small wave before they disappeared down the stairs and onto the road.

Now left to your solitude, you felt butterflies take wing in your stomach. You sucked in a breath, and began down the stairs after saying goodbye to another few islanders you knew speaking to Bev. You stepped outside, head a little in the clouds when you nearly jumped.

“There she is. How are you, my dear girl?” Father Hill stood at the bottom of the stairs wishing each of his flock goodbye.

You looked up at him as you came to stand beside him. But he wasn’t as vibrant as he usually was. You noticed a certain darkness in his eyes…

Of course he looks like that he’s been sick for days

You mentally throttled yourself.

“I’m well, thank you Father. You seem better.” You smiled a little, though perhaps not as wide as usual.

He noticed.

“Yes…yes much, thank you. Everyone has been so accommodating with me…so helpful. Good people.” He mused.

You nodded, “They are.”

John could almost feel your pulse in his head as you gazed up at him- so docile. The light from St. Patrick’s spilled over you and lit you like a holy revelation. He could smell your skin from his place a few feet away…could tell that you washed your hair not too long ago. But despite the loveliness of having you so close, John knew something in you was shifting.

You were more…anxious. Looking for justification to trust.

Skittish but still coming to his presence so diligently.

Like you didn’t even know what you were afraid of.

No need to fear sweet lamb…I am with you…

You started to shift away from him then, but it almost seemed like he didn’t quite want you to go. His gaze still locked onto you. “I trust I’ll see you on Sunday?”

You laughed a little, “No, no I think I’ll skip it.”

His face seemed to fall for a moment, but when you didn’t stop smiling it clicked that you were joking. “Oh- yes…you’re kidding.” He smiled with you, “Please do come. It wouldn’t be the same without you.” Father Paul added earnestly.

You felt that tug in your chest just like when you had gone to the rectory to speak with him weeks ago.

You felt seen.

Appreciated.

“Well I…I’ll be there, Father. Rest.” You said, backing away, “Have a blessed night!”

John took a slow step toward you, but no more than that. He knew not to press his luck with your trust. Didn’t want to scare you off.

“And you, y/n.” He waved to you.

You turned and began your walk. But just as you had felt at home when Mass had begun, you felt a little empty as you walked away. You felt that tug grow more insistent the further you went; so much so that you turned before descending the hill to look back.

Father Hill was in discussion with Wade, but once you stood still, his head snapped to you.

You startled a little.

But it wasn’t so much the fact that he noticed you.

It was the strangest thing…you could have sworn you saw the light of the church catch his eyes and make them glint in the dark.

It happened so fast that you told yourself you just needed your day off. You were just tired.

You needed some sleep.

That was why you felt the contentment you had just been floating on start to drain away. That was why you felt so at ease when the Father spoke to you. Just tired.

You had no way of knowing then that it was the little bit of tainted blood in your system that was calling out to its patron. That it was humming around the others who shared the gift too…communicating internally with one another- somehow knowing that you’re like them.

By the time you were home, you felt as if the weight of the world was yours to uphold. Worry began to consume you as your thoughts swirled in the silence.

Riley was missing.

Joe was missing.

Pike was dead.

Bowl was missing.

You stopped brushing your hair for a moment. You hadn’t thought of the strange happenings like that before. Indeed there was quite a few. You had lived on Crockett your whole life you knew that the maximum a person could go missing for was a day and that was pushing it.

How long had Joe been missing…?

Your gut began to twist again, and you almost fell to your knees when you knelt to pray.

You didn’t know what was happening to you. To your home.

Fear began to encircle your heart, and you almost considered running back to the church to sleep on a pew.

You felt alone.

For the first time in a long time, you felt so very alone.

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

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

#midnight mass #hamish linklater #father paul hill #father john pruitt x reader #father john pruitt #forgive me father for i have sinned #father paul hill x reader #flanaverse #midnight mass fanfiction

107 notes · View notes

renranram · 14 days

Text

Casual Pt.2

nsfw!! kind of fluffy sex

quackity confesses, and reader replies and they have sex, yes

pt 1. is this

a/n; guys would u believe me if this i tell you this almost has 3000 words

the next day arrives as rei just woke up late, the girl had falled asleep at 4 in the morning, waking up at 11 pm, as she steps out of her room, she notices their shared apartment was empty, alex went streaming in his studio, but leaving a bouquet and a small note on their kitchen's counter for her

reader had slept in way too late, her overthinking had kept her up all night long, forcing her to skip out on breakfast. luckily, she managed to get ready in time for lunch

she was about to walk out of her room when she noticed the rose bouquet and note on the counters in the kitchen. there was a note attached that she hoped was for her

' take all the time you need, im always here for u ( ps: i went for recording, will be back later in the evening with some food so dont cook ) - alex :]'

as the time finally arrives, schlatt came back home with a fresh take out from their favorite restaurant down the street, deftones playing on the background of their apartment

alex entered their shared apartment with a bag full of food in one hand and a freshly-poured drink in the other. deftones had been playing in the background for a while now, he isn't such a huge fan of the band, thinking their music was a bit too harsh for him but letting it slide

he then looked at the rose bouquet that was still sitting on their shared kitchen counter. the vase was full of fresh water, which showed that reader had taken good care of the flowers while he was away

" .. welcome back " reader sits up from the couch, holding the cushion's pillow as she faces him, a tad bit awkward

alex couldn't help but smile at the site of her, he was about to respond when he noticed the slightly awkward expression on her face. she looked like she actually had something she wanted to say

" uhh, something wrong? " she chuckles awkwardly as she scratches the back of her nape, " no... uh.. i think ive decided "

he raised an eyebrow as he watched her try and figure out what she was trying to say. "decided? decided what?"

he looked at her with a small smile, which was the same smile he had been wearing during their little casual talk they had before going to bed yesterday.

" .. i think.. uhm.. i think i wanna be more than casual.. " she added, " but it's just.. im kind of... scared of it " alex was pleasantly surprised by what she was saying. this was not what he had expected. but it was definitely good to hear.

"more than casual? so.... exclusive?"

he said as he slowly took a few steps forwards, placing the back of takeouts on their counter, " girlfriend boyfriend.. you know stuffs like that " she looks up at him as she gently sets the cushion down

alex froze in his tracks as she mentioned the words 'girlfriend' and 'boyfriend.' he suddenly felt his heart skip a beat, his cheeks turn slightly red at the thought of them being a couple.

"so...you want us to..."

he paused for a moment, still trying to comprehend the thought. he didn't know why, but he felt a sense of excitement wash over him.

"...to officially go out?"

she slowly nods, " uhm.. yeah actually " she mumbles, " kiss in public, hold hands, hug, and pda stuffs.. " alex was still having a hard time processing this as he heard her list off all of the things they'd be able to do as a couple. holding hands, hugging...and publicly kissing.

"and...you would be willing to do all of this with me?" " do you not want me to? " she mumbles, now playfully, as she chuckles softly

a chuckle escaped his lips as he saw how playfully she was acting.

"no. i want you to."

alex smiled as he was now standing right in front of her, he then leaned forward and placed his other hand on her shoulder.

" i want all of this."

he said as he looked directly into her eyes. " all of this? " she repeats, chuckling softly as she leans her head onto his neck.

"all of this."

he repeated his answer as he wrapped his free arm around her and pulled her close to him. his warm grasp covered all of her tiny frame and pulled her even closer to him.

" i want all the cutesy things, and all the intimate things. i want everything." she slowly nods, pecking his neck, " ... i love you " she mutters

alex froze once he heard her whisper those words to him. he had gotten used to her teasing and flirting, and even to a degree, them being casually committed. but this...

her saying those words was something else entirely. the way these words melted through him had his heart beating rapidly. " huh? "

" i said i love you, dummy " she repeats herself, "w-...right. you said you loved me." alex stuttered out his response as he was still struggling to grasp the words she said.

and while what she had said was the furthest thing from his expectations, he was not gonna question it. he didn't even want to say anything in response that could ruin it. instead, they both remained quiet as alex held reader close to him. the silence was deafening as he wanted to say more, and to even tell her how much he loved her as well.

The silence was deafening as reader sat back down on the couch and alex still had his arm wrapped around her

alex wanted to speak, to say more to her, or even to just comfort her with his presence but he was too terrified to spoil the moment. his silence began to extend itself, as neither of them spoke up and just left it as awkwardly as it was.

the silence lasted for a good while until alex could feel the awkwardness getting the better of him. though he didn't necessarily want to, he knew that it was best to break the silence.

"so..."

he mumbled as he tried to think hard on how he was supposed to approach this situation. he wasn't sure if what he might say would be the right thing to ask or say to her right now.

"are you...are you okay?"

" im.. shy.. and uhm... flustered and overwhelmed " she mumbles, " .. you? ", alex let out a soft chuckle as he thought about her response. she was being so honest with him now. it was...cute

"yeah...i'm overwhelmed too. this is..."

he paused for a moment as he thought about the right words to say.

"this is new. and good. and something I've been wanting for a while." alex said with a small smile as he looked back into her eyes

she cant help but crack a small smile before nodding, " that's... nice.. you have me now ", "yeah. i have you now."

alex said as he tried his best to hold back any other sweet words that were about to spill out of his mouth. In the process, he also began to feel his heart beat rapidly as he held her close to him.

"and since we're together now...i'm gonna have to take better care of you." he said jokingly, as he squeezed her closer to him and pulled her head onto his chest

" alex. " she calls him out before looking at his eyes directly, " i wanna.. i wanna make love to you " she bluntly states

"..you want to..."

his eyes widened in response of her blunt statement as he gulped loudly. things had just been a steady back and forth between them a few moments ago with no real momentum of what was to come next.

"you want to make love?"

alex repeated those bold words back to her. he could feel the redness spread across his cheeks as she asked this question. but he didn't want to back down from it. she was everything he had been wanting, and now...she wanted this too.

" well... uhm.. uh.. we used to have casual sex.. and stuffs and uhm.. i wanna.. i wanna see if there's a difference " she mutters

alex nodded, clearly understanding her reasoning now. that's what this whole relationship was built on, after all. so why should they not take this next step and truly see whether or not it could change things for the better? he paused for a moment, taking another deep breath, as he then finally spoke up again.

"only one way to to find out then...right?"

" well.. uhm.. yeah " she mutters, before blurting out, " if you dont wanna do it it's totally fine and you can just tell- " she was cut off by lips on hers

reader didn't need to finish her sentence before alex responded, because he was already doing what he needed to do. instead of saying anything else, he just pressed his mouth against hers and started to kiss her eagerly. she immediately kisses him back as she wraps her arms around his neck.

he embraced her firmly, holding her tightly close to him as he tried to put every last bit of his emotion into the kiss. his tongue darted around hers as he made sure to truly make love to her mouth.

hus heart was beating faster than anything they had ever done before, as it was clear that they wanted this moment together. they wanted to take our relationship to this stage. their desire was undeniable.

alex didn't want the kiss to end, as he felt such an incredible amount of love for her. but he forced himself to pull away for a few seconds, just to breathe.

"i love you. i love you so much. "

he said in between short breaths as he looked back into her eyes, staring deep into them while he was still holding her. " i love you so much " she replies to him as she moans softly, her hands slowly making it up to his hair for support as she was lift up from the ground by him

he knew that his hold on her was only gonna become harder and tighter, as he lifted her off the ground completely and carried her to his bedroom. alex was still kissing her as they made their way from the living room to his bedroom. his hands had only become more attached around her waist, and he kept her elevated until they finally reached the bedroom. the very second he got through the door, he immediately slammed it behind them both.

as reader gently placed on his bed, alex stops to admire his work, " jesus fuck.. you're so pretty mami " he mutters

" i.. fuck.. i love you so much " he mutters as he leans down to her, cupping his cheek whilst his other hand on the bed, for support as he showers her with kisses

" you're so pretty, you're so fucking pretty, i cant fucking believe you're mine now " he whispers to her, as reader gets goosebumps, his hot breath hitting her neck, " i wanna make love to you.. i wanna show you how much i love you "

reader moans softly, " a-alex " she stutters, face flushed, alex pecks her cheeks before slowly leaning up to bite her earlobe, " hm? what is it mami? " he mutters

as he continues to trace kisses on the side of her neck, before slowly reaching her shoulder, " ... i love you " she blurts out again as alex chuckles

" really? why do you say that? " he continues before pausing, his hands now cupping her breasts, pecking her clothed breast

" because.. because i love you so much " she rambles as alex fixes her hair for her as he helps her to remove her shirt, " you do? "

" uh huh " she nods, maintaining eye contact with him as she bites her lip, " i love your face, your personality, how you treat everyone, .. everything "

alex pauses, a faint blush appearing on his cheeks, " you're so fucking cute, always looking so dumb " he mumbles as reader chuckles softly

" well, atleast im saying the truth " she replies, as alex removes his shirt, tossing it on the side of his room, " i love you so much, so fucking much, ive been wanting this for years now " he confesses

" hot " she states as he bursts out chuckling as he sat next to her, lifting her by her waist as he makes her sit down on his lap

" you're hotter " he replies, before continuing to kiss her, reader didn't hesitate to kiss him back

alex places his hands on her waist, devouring her, gently, one of his hand slowly making it's way to squeeze her breast as reader moans out softly

" ah fuck " her breath shudders, as they continue to kiss, alex unclipping her bra with his other hand, letting the bra slip down, letting her breasts out

" they're so pretty hm, so pretty like you " alex breaks the kiss as he leans down, cupping her breasts, pecking her nipple as reader throws her head back in pleasure, " holy shit- a-alex.. "

the man chuckles, massaging the other one as he started licking on the soft bud, swirling his tongue around it as reader winces under his touch

" wait- ah, " she moans out, " alex.. for fucks sake- im so.. im so fucking wet.. please baby "

the boy chuckles, letting go of her nipple with a pop, " want me to give it some love? " he smirks, slowly sliding his hands on the waistband on her shorts, helping her slip it off

" mhm, need you to touch me there " she nods as alex gasps, " fuck... you're actually so fucking wet, holy shit you weren't kidding " he chuckles, amused

" shut up " she buries her head onto his neck, embarrassed, " im sorry " he chuckles, " it's just.. fuck..., i wanna devour you "

he slids his hand onto her panties, playing with her folds, feeling the wetness on his fingers, " ah, lex.. " she moans out, overly sensitive

" feels good hm? " he continues, slipping his finger in, feeling her heat, " yes.. ah.. fuck.. feels so fucking good lex, " the man continues to pump his finger inside her

slowly fastening his pace time by time, before inserting another finger in, " oh my god- alex- i love you.. i love-.. ah- i cant.. i cant fucking take it.. please, please " she pleads, her voice, whiney

" you're really making it harder for me.. " he chuckles, sweat dripping on his forehead as he tosses his beanie, letting his hair fall, " does it feel so good?, hm, princesa? "

she nods, now braindead as he continues, " lex.. please.. please just- just put it in ahh " she shudders

" fuck... you're so fucking pretty " he mutters, as he kisses her, reader wraps her arm around his shoulder as alex continues to finger her hole as his other hand fumbles with his belt and zipper

he lifts her up again, taking off his pants as he palms his already hard clothed dick, " shit.. " he groans out

" princesa.. lay down, " he breaks the kiss as the already sensitive reader nods, slowly getting off his lap as she lays down his bed

he takes off his boxers, pumping himself as he blinks, his eyes with admiration, watching her blissed face, " fuck.. i love you so fucking much " he groans out as he lifts up her leg, resting it on his shoulder as he slowly inserts his dick into her hole, making reader release a loud moan

" shit... why the fuck is it bigger.. " she moans out, as alex chuckles softly, " you know my dick can't magically grow some inches right " he hums as reader chuckles

he grabs her hips as he leans down, showering her face with peck and kisses as his hips does the work, slowly thrusting in and out of her, causing her to moan every thrust

" shit... lex.. " she groans out, " fuck.. princesa, you're so fucking pretty, it's fucking insane " he continues thrusting in and out of her, his eyes, heart shaped, watching her body bounce up and down every time he thrusts inside of her

" fuck.. i fucking love you so fucking much " he moans out as he fastens his pace, as readers leans in towards him as the two shares a kiss

both of their tongues dancing with eachother as every moan gives alex a motivation to fasten his already fast pace

" ah.. ah.. lex.. i love you.. i love you so much oh my god " she mumbles, moaning as her eyes roll back, " no mami, i love you more, fucking more " the two kisses eachother

alex continues to thrust inside her as her moans getting louder and louder every second, " fuck.. fuck.. lex im so fucking close.. lex oh my god "

" yeah? shit.. you're so fucking tight " he can feel her squeeze under him as he fixes her hair for her, " fuck.. i think im close too " he added

and with a few thrusts, reader reaches her climax, her eyes roll back, as she continues to moan as alex tries to reach his

" does it feel good hm? feels so fucking good? " he asks, as reader nods, now absent minded, overwhelmed with pleasure

" yeah.. yeah.. it's so good.. m'very good " she stutters as alex's gasps, his thrusts slowly getting sloppier

" fuck.. im gonna fill you up okay, ah- fuck... im gonna fill you up princesa " reader nods, as finally alex reaches his climax, filling his seed inside her as he gently pulls out

" shit.. princesa, wow... holy fuck " he mumbles, panting as he tries to catch his breath, " i...i fucking love you so fucking much " he mumbles, as reader smiles softly, " i love you too lex "

#alex quackity #quackity #quackity x y/n #quackity x you #quackity fanfic #quackity x reader #quackity smut #quackity x reader smut #proud of quackity #qsmp #qsmp fanfiction #qsmp quackity

61 notes · View notes

waynewifey · 9 months

Text

aftermath — b.w

part one - ‘dear mr. wayne’

part two - ‘aftermath’

part three. - ‘aporia’

summary: you escaped that warehouse, but part of you died in there. now, your husband helps you grief your own loss while trying to not murder your relationship.

pairing: bruce wayne/battinson x reader

genre: drama & angst romance

warnings: mentions of sex and alcohol; mentions of ptsd, anxiety and it’s symptoms; hospital setting; dubious science; dubious law enforcement

word count: 2.9k

A/N: thank you for all the positive feedback on part 1! there will be a part three because this post would get too long, so let me know if you’ll like to be tagged in that. my biggest challenge writing this was trying to give bruce the start of a redemption arc, please tell me if you think it worked. comments and constructive criticism is appreciated!

gotham, USA.

the continuous beeping sound wakes you up.

your eyes are still closed, blocking the intense light over your head. your senses are taken by the familiar scent: sandalwood, cinnamon and lemongrass soap. it almost feels like you're home.

but your feet are senseless from the cold and the bedsheets faintly smell like chlorine. there's a pinching ache in your arm and the scenario is complete. oh how you hate hospitals.

"how are you feeling?" back at home, bruce had learned the difference in your breathing as you woke up, which made pretending to sleep hard enough for you to give up. you open your eyes, finding yourself in a luxurious room. if it wasn't for the IV on your left side, it could easily be mistaken for a five star hotel.

bruce sat at a large light green armchair, about four feet from your left hand. you couldn't tell by his voice, but he looked exhausted. for once, he's wearing sweatpants. the puffy face and swollen eyes show he hasn't had much sleep. you, on the other hand, feel like you've slept for a thousand years.

"i have no idea. what's up with me?" his sigh has your heart racing and the fear of being a liability falls over you. a comforting hand lays on yours, his warms fingers grounding you to remember the last time you were awake. it felt like a nightmare and you desperately hoped it was. instead, the pain comes in flashes, the image of your husband being shot and the feeling of hitting ice cold water do too. it's all just so horrible you wish it wasn't real.

"they told me you were going to be fine, but i don't know." bruce feels as if a burden has come off his chest finally seeing you move. the last couple of days have been a torture of expectation and blame for him. "the doctor had you in an induced coma. you had a concussion on the river. your stomach was stitched up. he said..." he stops for a moment, this is obviously way too hard for him to go through again. bruce hasn't left the room ever since he was discharged. everyday, for two weeks, he kept overthinking the night before and the day during. if he had stayed up and talked about your relationship, you wouldn't be in that bed. if he looked for you in the morning, if he noticed your absence at work, if he hadn't put his phone on silent mode... there were a million of things that he could've done different so the most important person in his world wouldn't have gone through all of that. "he said the ptsd would worsen your recovery. this morning the nurses told me you were better, so i have to believe them. that's my only hope."

you need a moment to take in the words, finally deciding that you didn't want to discuss your health. there were way better people to pay attention to that in the building and it would only make you anxious. you can't help but stare at his eyes, your mind bringing up the image of your husband choking the man that kept you hostage.

"you almost killed him." the tone is of disapproval, bruce couldn't be any more confused. he frowns. bile arises from his stomach leaving a acid taste to his mouth.

"i would've, of course i would. y/n, you had no idea what i would do for you. i would fight the devil himself if it meant keeping you safe. that's why i do what i do. the batman, the politics, it's all for you. if i can make this world 1% better for you, for our children, to live on, it's worth it." his gulp is loud, adam's apple going up and down, showing how dry his throat was. the following words have his voice shaking, almost disappearing. "but fate keeps telling me that i'm not enough. no matter what i do, you keep getting hurt and i just-" bruce stares the floor. that's something he always did when saying harsh things, avoiding eye contact and not letting tears slip away. however, this time it doesn't work at all. he can hear his heart tearing up with every syllable, the physical pain striking his chest. he wants to beg you to forgive him, but there is a noble thing to do. his words are cut off by the creaking of the door and the doctor's footsteps. he's smiling, like this isn't hell. bruce shrinks into the couch, making himself ignorable.

"so... i have good news!" the blonde says, clipboard in hand. "we need to run some other tests and an x-ray, but you seem to be healing pretty well. we'll hold you in for a couple of days just to make sure there aren't any complications with your body and then you can go home. how are you feeling so far?"

you're surprised by the sudden change in the conversation and your brain needs a moment to think about something helpful. you do a body scan trying to identify any pain, but overall you feel good.

"hungry. like, starving." the doctor smiles, saying he'll get you a meal as soon as possible. he warns you that you may not be able to eat much just yet, something about your stomach shrinking. you nod, already feeling irritated by the recovery process. then he leaves and there's a loud silence until you get back on the previous topic.

"you just what?" you expect bruce to sit correctly again, but he doesn't. he looks so small in the shadows, so comfortable. you really don't want to talk about that anymore, but curiosity takes over. he doesn't respond immediately, so your heart pounds over the anxiety of hearing bad news. suddenly you feel so tired, you want him to take over all the decisions like he usually does. today, though, he seems open to suggestions, like his own ideas weren't suitable. how could you know someone so well but still have no idea what's on his mind?

"i think maybe you shouldn't be associated with me. any part of me." the world stops with your breathing. bruce wishes he could take it back. going over this conversation in his head made it seem easier to say out loud. you've been married for three years. you knew his ambitions for even longer. you chose this life and he has no right to take that from you. still, the ring on your finger weighs you down.

— DENIAL

you've learned to appreciate the winter winds. at the top of the wayne tower there were barely any, but tonight they caress your face with the gift of numbness. breathing in is both refreshing and painful. the scratched teacup warms your fingers, a small memoir from your childhood home, from times that won't ever come back. you used to be down there, frightened by dark alleys and gunshots. now you're on top of the world and nothing, not even that psychopath, can take that from you. you did relearn discomfort. ache. cold. it all made you appreciate life even more. in fact, the month that followed your hospital discharge was pure bliss. something about renewal, about rebirth.

bruce watched you from the living room, the wrinkled glass distorting your silhouette in the balcony. that was a good representation of how he currently saw you, slightly blurred and shaken. his cup would usually hold whiskey, neat, but it holds coffee instead. you keep saying you're fine and waking up screaming in the middle of the night. then he would hold you and you would be actually fine. so now he's staying awake through the night, sleeping three or four hours during the day while alfred takes care of you. of course they don't let you know, because you've denied every explicit help. as you get ready to sleep, bruce gets ready to stay in bed through the night, alone with his thoughts. part of him was scared to sleep. he was sleeping when you were taken, there's no way he would let that happen again.

it has been almost a year since he stopped patrolling the city. the news cover murders and robberies every day. alfred makes sure to come up with something for both bruce and you to do at those hours. he's taken a pause in promoting his candidacy, he couldn't handle the public eye for now. still, the marketing team insists that your kidnapping was good media, even though he never officially spoke on it. they publish notes about being away, about taking care of family. he can't see how that could be good in any way.

you open the glass doors, flashing your husband a sweet smile. you're in a red silk robe and your hair is still perfectly done. perfectionism was one of the side effects, as one may call it, of the trauma. you visited a psychiatrist about a month ago, since bruce insisted on it, and he marked all of the habits that made you happy as unhealthy. you never told bruce what was said in that appointment in hopes that he'll get over it. him treating you like a porcelain doll made you nauseous.

"ready for bed?" you ask, standing behind the couch and hugging his shoulders. you breathe in his scent, remembering the day you met. you were an executive in an overseas wayne enterprises headquarters that had just gotten transferred to gotham. they offered you six figures to take the second in command position, so you obviously got to know the first in command. in the beginning, you honestly thought he was an entitled brat that didn't work at all. overtime, you realised how much he cared about the company and how much he was pining over you. you gave him an opening and he asked you out. six months into the relationship, he told you about batman. he knew, somehow, that you would be forever.

he sets in bed while you're touching up in the bathroom. the night had to be perfect. you've hadn't made love ever since the fight and ovulation week had gotten you a little crazy. you check yourself in the mirror, thanking the hormones making you sexy. you crawl into his side, slower than needed, hair falling over the shoulder. "hi" you whisper, sitting diagonally from him and cuddling a bit. he says hi back, with a chuckle. you give him a little peck, which is all you've been doing for all of this time. he stays still, not pulling back but also not doing anything either. you try to take it as a good sign. your lips then reach his jawline and neck, leaving wet kisses all over his skin. your hands touch his shirt and go underneath it, tracing your fingers along his defined abdomen. a hand holds your arm, pushing you away. your smile fades and you frown your face to him.

"touch me, bruce" you not so much ask, it's more like a plead. he sighs, channelling all his will to stick with his decision. he puts a string of your hair behind your ear and you think he's going to properly kiss you.

"i don't think we should do this. you're not well enough yet." he doesn't sound so certain, but it hits you like a hard brick wall. this is harder for him than he lets it show, he's a man after all. even so, he can't see you like that for the moment. he sees you scattered and feels like it's his responsibility to assemble you again.

"i'm perfectly fine." you state like a grumpy proud child who's just lost a soccer tournament. he sees right through it.

"you're not, you're in denial." that simple word makes your mood swing: denial. it's the same thing the stupid psychiatrist told you. you can even hear his smoker's voice echoing in the office. it isn't true. you got over it, that's all. maybe some people take more time to do so, but you did just like that. you had a life to get back to.

you get off the bed and pull your robe tight again. "i'm sleeping in the guest room. good night." he doesn't follow and lets you be. in all honesty, he didn't know if he would have the strength to turn you down a second time.

bruce tries to fight the tiredness. even with caffeine running high in his blood system, he falls asleep for a while. the guest room is far enough that he doesn't hear the muffled sobbing. he wakes up not so long after with screaming. his heart races as he runs down the stairs, following the sound of your voice. his mind starts thinking the worst, but he finds you only having nightmares. he crawls in bed with you, without being kicked off. he lets you lay on his chest, one arm over your shoulder. his body warms yours up and you finally stop spasming. it doesn't take too long for both to fall asleep.

— ANGER

the penthouse is quiet. the winter is almost at it's end, so the pre-spring rays lighten the living room bringing warmness to your solitude. you sit uncomfortably, unknown to this feeling of absence. you don't feel him in the tower.

bruce said there was a non deniable meeting with his press team, because eventually he would have to go back to promoting his election, which would take place in the fall. you acted unbothered. yet, he's barely been gone for an hour and you can already feel the anxiety crippling. you only left the apartment for doctors appointment, still too scared to walk on the streets. and he was always there, too, holding your hand. so this is different.

alfred is downstairs upgrading the batman suit with a new technology he created. he invited you, but the darkness of the cave was definitely unrequited. that's how you end up lounging, in silence, staring at window. finally, you decide to try to watch something. you shouldn't really do that, because something could trigger a panic attack. but you're fine, you really are. enough with this nonsense.

shuffling through the channels, nothing gets your attention until there's a juridical show on. the judge is talking to the prosecutor, apparently, announcing the next witness to testify. the camera angle changes to the courtroom and expectant eyes turn to the wooden door. it opens slowly to reveal a knight in dark armour. you hold your breath. the jury buzzes and the room gets loud. heavy steps make his cape swing behind him, as he makes his way to the stand.

bruce had to make a tough decision. while you and him had been cleared from the trial, you with the psychiatrist report on PTSD and him with the marriage, the lawyers mentioned that the batman's testimony could be decisive for the accused to be found guilty by the jury. the public respected him. either they loved or feared him. so, even though he's never made such a public appearance, less even speaking, he had to go to that trial. he owed it to you. but you could never know. he didn't want to spark your interest in the case, you shouldn't have to go through it again. he lays his hand on the constitution and swears on it.

it doesn't feel real until you hear the judge.

"members of the jury, i present to you the batman."

it feels like a dagger has gone through your chest. there's a mix of feelings that have you almost throwing up. you feel like screaming and crying and blowing the fucking world up. how could he do that to you? that was your case, your life. you stand up only to find your legs trembling. you want to run there and testify. you want to tell the world the horrors you've been through and show them, including your husband, that you had overcome it. he was calling you weak right in you face and you couldn't bear the feeling of being chained up again. you're stuck in this hell of a tower like some futile damsel.

you stomp your way to the elevator, your mind set on leaving the building. but your heart stops you in your tracks pounding and almost vomiting itself out; you feel your toes numb and your legs can't stop shaking. the baritone voice still sounds in the apartment. you run to it and scream at the TV. you throw a pillow on it. that doesn't cool you down. your body is in motion while all you can see is red. you knock the coffee table down, shattering the glass and scattering like ashes the books that were on it on the floor. the noise still doesn't muffle his voice and you can't find the fucking remote control. you stumble across the room, throwing lamps and vases around. everything is falling down, in every sense. you grab a candle and let out a scream when you hit the TV with it, the screen going black and the noise finally ceasing.

alfred finds the room trashed, with you kneeling on the broken glass. there's blood on the floor. your body trembles with every sob. he cautiously steps towards you. you feel out of breath, tears burning your eyes. he holds you like a mother does.

"i'm sorry- i'm so sorry," he shakes his head, saying it doesn't matter. you wanna say it does, but there's simply nothing leaving your mouth apart from "i'm so sorry"

part three - aporia

398 notes · View notes

amberlynnmurdock · 5 months

Text

Blind Faith (Epilogue)

Epilogue: An Oath

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader

Summary: A familiar face appears on the day of your Bar Admission Ceremony.

A/N: Wow. Finally, the end of Blind Faith. I'm honestly emotional about it, I can't believe I can mark this series complete! Seriously, thank you to all who have been here since July and for reading--it truly means a lot to me. I hope you love this last chapter <3.

Ao3 Link

Flashback to Sunday Evening

FOGGY’S VOICEMAIL: Matt, where the hell have you been?! I've been trying to call you since Friday night! I saw the news about Zack… that had to have been you. Is __ okay? Where is she? Call me back as soon as you can—Karen and I are worried.

Matt sighed as he clicked the message off. He was still standing by the doorway you just left out of. He couldn’t muster the strength to leave the space you once lingered. He stood there and leaned against the wall… the wall he just kissed you against.

He called Foggy.

“Jesus, Matt, now you can call me?” Foggy cursed over the line. “What the hell happened?”

“A lot,” Matt sighed, turning his hand into a fist. “You should come over so we can talk about it. Maybe bring Karen as well.”

“Okay,” Foggy sighed, “is __ alright?”

“She is now,” Matt answered, as he finally heard you enter a cab from outside. “She’s on her way home.”

“She was at your apartment? What the hell, Matt… you have a lot of explaining to do. And no bullshit. Karen and I deserve to know the truth.”

“I know,” Matt didn’t have the energy to argue with his friend. He sighed, leaned his forehead against the wall, and deeply breathed. “I’ll tell you the truth.”

⠋⠁⠊⠞⠓

Foggy and Karen weren’t happy with what Matt told them, which was the truth.

“Jesus, Matt…” Foggy shook his head. “I don’t even know where to begin. You—you and __ have been together since this summer, and she didn’t know, but you knew, and now she found out because Zack—Jesus,” Foggy pinched his temples as he processed what Matt confessed.

Karen was silent, like she always was when Matt revealed a big revelation. He remembers the time he told Karen his secret like it was yesterday, and the way she acted then was close to how she is now. Hunched, biting her nails, furrowed brows. Her heart pounding in her chest. Out of anger or confusion, he didn’t know.

“Karen?” He called her name softly.

She glared at him. Matt didn’t need to see to know she was.

“I’m upset we lost a good employee because of your lies,” Karen stated. “I’m upset she couldn’t talk to any of us about it. I completely understand why she wouldn’t want to come back.”

“You can reach out to her,” Matt suggested. “She would probably like that.”

“I’ll probably write her recommendation letter for Columbia if she still needs it,” Foggy added. “I just—I can’t believe Zack almost—Jesus. I hope he gets disbarred.”

“He will,” Matt said instantly, “I’m sure of it.”

“For what it’s worth,” Karen began to say, “I’m glad you were there to save her.”

“Me too,” Foggy said.

Matt nodded his head, “I knew it was bad news. I just didn’t know he was going to try to do that.”

“Who took care of her when you took her back here?” Karen asked.

“Claire,” Matt sighed. “She hooked her up to an IV.”

“And what did you guys—you know what, never mind,” Foggy stopped himself from asking an obvious question. Matt shifted uncomfortably on the couch.

After another few drinks and conversation with his friends, Foggy and Karen left Matt’s apartment. He laid on his bed, on the side you slept on the entire weekend. Your scent was still there. Even if it wouldn’t last for long, the memories he made with you and the way you made him feel, would last an eternity for him.

And despite his best efforts to move on, he was never going to stray far.

⠋⠁⠊⠞⠓

“I was happy to see your name in our applications,” Geri Hogarth said as she poured herself a glass of seltzer water. You watched as the bubbles rose in the glass. “Would you like a glass?”

“No, thank you,” you gently declined. “I was really happy to see you guys looking for a legal assistant. And it works perfectly you’re so close to Columbia.”

“Congratulations on getting in, by the way!” Geri cheered with her glass. You blushed.

“Thank you. I’m really excited to be working here, along with you, Marci, the other colleagues.”

“You’re going to learn a lot here. But I’m curious—Mr. Nelson and Mr. Murdock are really fine attorneys—what made you want to leave?”

Wasn’t that the question, you thought?

“I felt it was time for me to move on and explore new opportunities—get as much experience at different firms as I could,” you answered, which was true, in many ways. “I’m… grateful for my experience there. I’ll always have a special place in my heart for them.”

“Good,” Geri agreed, “I won't ever forget the first firm I ever worked at. It really builds you as a person in your career.”

“It sure does,” you smiled. “So, when do I start training?”

And you would start training at Hogarth, Chao & Benowitz that following Monday. And you would work there for the entire length of your law school years.

Eventually, the past became the past, but it didn’t mean you wouldn’t think of him every now and then. A thought of him was behind every alley way at night. A thought of him was behind every second thought you put into going on a date with someone new. It never was more than a thought, but it was enough to make you feel a certain way—a true longing for something that could’ve been. You could never look at rooftops the same, or black coffee, or even a church. There was always Matthew behind all of that.

And little did you know, he was there, all along.

Three Years Later

New York County Supreme Court

A cold day in Manhattan. One of those mornings, the moment you stepped outside, you were chilled to the bone. But today was an exciting day: after finally passing the Bar Exam, you were to be sworn in officially as an attorney. A lot of sweat and tears went into this day—this day you knew would come all along.

You stepped out of the cab and held your coat around your shoulders tighter as you looked up at the New York County Supreme Court in awe. There were two signs near the entrance. One read: CONGRATULATIONS! The other read: BAR ADMISSION CEREMONY. You watched as other people arrived at the court and stared in awe just as you were. You smiled at them all, wondering where they came from and what it took for them to get here as well.

Finally, entering the courthouse was like seeing the Museum of Natural History. Nothing will compare to that feeling of seeing it for the first time. You followed the red velvet carpet down the hall and into the chamber where the ceremony would take place. There were ushers along the way who guided people to their designated seats. The Law Judge would call your names one by one and you would go up for a picture.

Other people were here too, to support the new attorneys. Friends, families, colleagues. You spotted your parents and friends in the audience, as well as Geri Hogarth and your favorite professor from Columbia. When you caught their attention, you smiled and waved in excitement before taking your assigned seat.

The Law Judge went up to the podium and gave a long speech about how important this day was for the future of justice. After a short while, he finally had all the new attorneys stand from their seats and hold their right hands up to take an oath and be sworn in. You raised your right hand and repeated the words in tandem with everyone else.

“Now, ladies and gentlemen, I present to you, your class of new attorneys! When you hear your name, please come up to the podium for a picture and your certificate.”

One by one, the assigned seats became empty as the newly sworn-in attorneys went up to get their certificates and pictures taken. The closer it got to your name being called, the faster your heart began to beat. You felt yourself sweat under your white button-up and blazer. You fixed your hair and pushed two strands behind your ears.

Finally, your name was called.

You smiled at the people you walked past and carefully walked up the stairs to meet the Law Judge, who held your certificate in his hands. He held his hand out for you to shake and pointed at the camera. You smiled at the camera, the flash blinding for you a moment. After it had faded, you searched the audience for your friends and family again and smiled when you caught their attention, holding up your certificate.

You met them outside in the lobby of the courthouse, for more pictures and hugs. And amid all the congratulations, the smiles, the selfies, the jokes about being your friends’ future lawyer, you saw him.

Walking out of the chambers you just were sworn in, you saw him. Donned in his gray suit, black tie, dark red glasses, and cane in hand. You saw him.

He stood there, in the corner, away from the crowd. Cane standing straight, with two fists at the top. From that stance alone, you knew he knew you noticed him.

“I’ll be right back,” you said to your friends, “I see someone I know.”

Gravity pulled you in your path to Matt who waited for you to approach him. It was like seeing a vision, this image of him standing there and waiting for you.

It’s been three long years. Three years of wondering what he was up to, and if he ever thought about you the way you fell asleep thinking of him.

What were you to say?

You looked at his appearance—not much has changed. If anything, he was more handsome now. His hair was styled nicely, he had a slight stubble. His hands, his knuckles—red. Not much has changed.

“Congratulations, __, Esq.,” Matt smiled. To hear his voice after so many years—it still made your heart flutter. So many memories flashed in your mind, memories of Matt’s face being half covered, memories of those early mornings you spent, memories of being tangled in his sheets.

“Thank you,” you answered. “How did you know—I guess the list of attorneys is public on the site.”

“It is,” Matt affirmed, “I—I hope you don’t mind I’m here.”

“Not at all,” you said. “I’m happy to see you. I told myself that I wouldn’t seek you out. I’d let—“

“Fate decide it,” Matt finished your sentence. “I remember… you once said that it was fate, how we kept running into each other.”

You raised your eyebrows in surprise—he remembered.

“Yeah,” you breathed out, “fate. But I’m not sure how much fate had to do with you searching the day of my admission.”

“You’re right,” Matt said. “Not much.”

“So, what have you been doing?” You asked.

“Same as always,” Matt replied. “I’d ask you the same but I know you graduated law school and now this.”

“Yes,” you affirmed, “law school, HC&B. Now I’m an attorney.”

“HC&B treating you well?” Matt couldn’t help but ask.

“They are,” you smiled. “I’ve learned a lot from Geri.” Things I wished I learned from you.

“Good,” Matt grinned. “Foggy and Karen miss you.”

“Last time I spoke with Foggy was about my letter of recommendation,” you nodded. “I miss them, too. So much has happened, so much time has passed.”

“__,” Matt said your name in a low voice. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too,” you said softly, letting your guard down completely. It was like you were waiting for him to say those words. The moment you left him has haunted you to this day. “I… thought about you. All the time. In everything I did.”

“I did too,” he muttered.

“I kept your secret,” you suddenly said before you could think, “I realized I never made sure of that with you.”

“I trusted you,” Matt nodded his head. “I wasn’t worried.”

“So… why are you here? Why now?” You asked him.

“Well, I wanted to support you. And… I wanted to know… if enough time has passed,” Matt gently said. “I know—I know I hurt you. And I know you needed time to heal and move on. So I came here, to ask you, will you give me another chance, to make things right?”

Enough time had certainly passed. And each day that went on, the less hurt you felt and the more longing you felt for Matt. The more you wondered what would happen the next time you saw him—which was right now. Would you give him another chance?

“Now that you’re here in front of me, I can honestly say that I have faith again,” you whisper, “so yes, Matt. I will give you another chance.”

Matt smiled. “If I could take an oath right now, to ensure I will make it right, I would. But instead,” Matt reached in his pockets to grab something. When he pulled out the cross necklace he gave you all those years ago, your heart dropped and now you felt tears brim around your eyes. “I want you to have this again.”

You took the cross necklace from his hand. He wrapped the thread around your fingertips, placing the cross in your palm and closing your hand to cover it.

“I promise I won’t hurt you like I did before,” Matt said gently, “my oath to you.”

And you held onto his cross necklace like you would hold onto his oath. Faith had finally come back.

TAGS: @starry-night-20 @sumsytee @queerqueenlynn @mattmurdocksstarlight @marvelcinematiquniverse @hailey-murdock @yeonalie(please let me know if I missed you!)

#matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #daredevil #charlie cox #daredevil born again #daredevil fanfic #matt murdock fanfic #blind faith #wow and FIN #<3

96 notes · View notes

on-my-vigilante-sht · 1 year

Text

Capitol Punishment V

Haymitch x Reader

Summary: The Capitol continues to torture it’s victors no matter how long ago they won through punishment, exploitation, and worst of all; their relationships.

A story in which Haymitch’s lover is a plaything for the Capitol.

Warnings: Canon level violence, rape (though never explicit), alcohol, murder, systemic poverty, exploitation, rebellion (?), more reliance on movie than book, suicidal thoughts

Word Count: 2.0K (Sorry it’s short)

Part IV | Masterlist | Part VI

“Katniss, don’t,” you whispered to the screen uselessly. You and Haymitch hadn’t left your room and yet somehow Finnick had made his way in, lying on the bed while you sat in the middle, along with Haymitch perched at the end.

The screen was split between Katniss and Clove, each running towards the cornucopia. Katniss was headed straight for the District 12 bag which held the medicine Peeta so desperately needed. Clove was coming up on the rear of the cornucopia, neither seeing the other at first. Until Clove caught a glimpse of the archer, knocking into her. They went tumbling, fighting each other for dominance until Clove was sat on top of Katniss, a knife against your tribute’s throat.

You thought this was the end for Katniss which would be the inevitable end for Peeta. You didn’t even listen to Clove’s monologue as she began cutting Katniss’ face, too hurt by your hope being crushed. But Clove’s terrified shrieks made you look at the screen again.

“Cato!” she screamed as Thresh threw her to the ground, lifting a rock to slam over her head. The canon immediately went off.

“Just this time 12, for Rue,” Thresh said before running off with both 2 and 11’s bag. Now that Cato didn’t have his bag or partner, he posed much less of a threat.

You sighed in relief as Katniss sprinted off into the woods towards Peeta.

“They’re gonna make it,” Haymitch whispered. He turned to face you, opening his arms for a celebratory hug.

But before you could return it Finnick grabbed you from behind, squeezing and shaking you in excitement. “They’re gonna do it!”

“Hey!” Haymitch protested seeing Finnick steal his hug. “Why are you even in our,” he gestured to himself and you, “bed?”

You both laugh at his scowl, having had his hug from you stolen.

The medicine had worked in only a couple hours while your tributes got some much needed sleep. You knew the sponsors would absolutely love it as Katniss slept on Peeta’s chest.

All the previous victors were now down in the viewing room, the Capitol not liking that their playthings had been holed up in their rooms lately.

As Katniss and Peeta left their cave in search of food all was fairly quiet. Katniss has sent Peeta to get berries while she hunted. She was about two seconds from killing a squirrel when she was interrupted by the cannon going off.

Your eyes widened as you scanned the screens. There were no views of any other tributes, only Katniss running, calling out to Peeta in fright. You sighed in relief when she ran into the boy and they discovered the body of District 5. Her lips were stained red and she was holding the same berries Peeta was. Realizing the same thing you did, Katniss slapped the berries out of Peeta’s hand. “That’s nightlock Peeta, you’d be dead in a minute!” She then pulled him into a tight hug, pressing her face into his shoulder. “You scared me half to death.” You knew all the kisses and the cuddling in the cave were fake but could this be real?

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know,” Peeta whispered, holding Katniss tightly as well. When they pulled away after a minute, Katniss turned towards the girl from District 5, plucking the berries out of her hand and placing them in a handkerchief. “What are you doing?”

“Maybe Cato likes berries too,” Katniss said slyly.

You were honestly relieved District 5 was out. She was too clever and you had a feeling she would’ve won the same way you did if it were just between her and the other last standing person.

Katniss and Peeta set off, trying to find Cato when night descended upon them again. “That was fast,” Peeta commented.

“They’re trying to end it.”

The screen was split between all three groups of tributes. Snarls and growls echoed from the dark, all three hearing it. Thresh is looking directly into a camera but looking past it, as if trying to find the cause of the noise. You want to scream at him to run but before anything can happen a wolf like creature pounces on him. He’s strong enough to push it off before it takes a bit out of his face but three others descend on him and he’s gone in screams of agony. You feel a tear slip down your face at such a cruel ending for such a good person.

You and Haymitch both looked over at Chaff who stood largely stoically but you could see disappointment on his face. He, like you, was finally hoping to have a victor this year.

On Cato’s screen a wolf-mutt clamped onto his shoulder. He let out a scream but stabbed it with his sword. more began chasing him but fortunately he was already close to the cornucopia which he quickly jumped up on. As the camera showed the mutts clawing at the side of the metal structure you could see their horrifying faces. They all resembled with tributes.

You realized with disgust that the one that had bit Cato wore a collar with a 2 on it. The fur on it’s face was sparse, revealing the face of Clove’s face, horrifyingly disfigured by the mutt’s body. Another mutt with red fur had foxlike features and clever, green eyes. Eyes that looked far too human to be Capitol made. “Did they-”

“Yeah they did,” Haymitch confirmed your suspicions with disgust.

As some of the mutts were distracted, Katniss and Peeta were running away from the ones that had spawned near them. They were also close to the cornucopia so they managed to climb up. One mutt with a district 1 collar and blonde fur clamped onto Peeta’s leg, almost pulling him down. He kicked it with his still free leg and by the time the other mutts had either caught up or realized that there was prey on the other side of the cornucopia, he was already on top, “safe.”

It didn’t last long as Cato quickly swung at Katniss with his sword, missing by an inch. The three tributes grappled on top of the the difficult to stay on cornucopia until Cato had Peeta in a headlock, Peeta’s body posed to shield his from Katniss’ arrows. “Go ahead, do it!” Cato yelled. “I’m dead already.” His voice was broken as he let out a hallow laugh. You felt empathy for him for the first time since you set eyes on the boy. “But I can take one more with me,” he sneered, tightening his grip on Peeta’s head.

Suddenly the arrow went flying into Cato’s hand, causing his to pull back from Peeta with a cry of pain. Reacting quickly, Peeta sent Cato down off the cornucopia, to the awaiting mutts. Every mutt descended onto Cato’ slowly ripping him apart. You had a hand clamped over your mouth, Cato’s pained yells being too much to listen to. Katniss shot him in the head, ending his suffering in an act of mercy.

“We did it,” Haymitch whispered to you.

“We did it,” you agreed, tears in your eyes. He hugged you tightly, picking you up and spinning you around.

Several other victors and capitol citizens came up to congratulate you as daylight rose in the arena. “Attention tributes, attention,” the voice in the arena caught every spectator’s attention. “There has been a slight rule change.” Your heart broke as you realized what has happening. “The previous revision allowing two victors from the same district has been revoked. Only one may be crowned. Good luck and may the odds be forever in your favor.”

Yells erupted in the crowd. Everyone had been looking forward to the star-crossed lovers making it together.

“Go ahead,” Peeta relents. “One of us should go home. One of us has to die, they have to have their victor.”

Katniss looks angry, tossing her bow down. “No. They don’t,” she stated firmly. “Why should they?” She pulls the nightlock from her pocket. They whisper so quietly even the numerous cameras and microphones can’t pick it up.

Katniss splits the berries between them and they go to swallow them together. Everyone was on the edge of their seats. Even those who truly understand the games aren’t sure what will happen. “Stop!” the entire capitol goes still. “Stop! Ladies and gentlemen, may I present the winners of the 74th annual Hunger Games!”

The crowd once again erupts into cheers. And while you’re happy for your victors, you know they’ll be punished for it.

Amongst the frenzied celebrations no one notices Haymitch press his lips to your forehead. “C’mon, I need to talk to you.” You didn’t think much of it as the both of you headed upstairs into into the penthouse but you stopped when he tried to bring you into the bathroom.

“Woah, Haymitch,” you stopped him. “I don’t know what you’re-”

“Just come,” he interrupted, grabbing your wrist gently. He tugged you into the bathroom where a man you had never seen before stood.

“Hello Y/N, I’m Plutarch Heavensbee,” he smiled warmly, as if this were the most normal thing in the world.

“Finnick told me about the conversation you had,” Haymitch began.

“No,” you immediately said. “No we’re not getting involved in this. The literally tried to kill you a few days ago for simple assault and now you’re talking treason? No.”

“Y/N after what just went down, we’re all about to be punished. You’ve been punished continuously the second you stepped out of the arena and you won the ‘right’ way. This is our way out of this life,” Haymitch said, cupping your face as tears came to your eyes.

“Why now?” you asked.

“Because Katniss will be the face of our revolution,” Plutarch explained. “She’s the girl on fire, she volunteered to protect a child while still being a child herself. She got herself and Peeta out of the arena, and threatened to kill herself rather than let one kill the other. She is the face of rebellion.”

“Y/N let me save you from this life,” Haymitch pleaded.

You looked up at him, thoughts racing through your mind. “Okay,” you nodded shakily. “What can I do?”

Finally back on the train to District 12 you were laying on Haymitch’s chest. “What’s going to happen to Katniss?” you asked. The people had loved her, she was beautiful and had become the darling of the Capitol.

“Peeta will protect her, I’m sure of that,” Haymitch explained, running his fingers through your hair.

“What do you mean?”

“You know how Snow won’t let us be a couple publicly because he wants you to seem accessible? Well it’s too late for him with Katniss. She’s already with someone else and if word got out that they aren’t as madly in love as they seem, the Capitol would riot.”

“We need to protect him,” you said.

“I know.” Haymitch paused. “We should get married.”

Your heart stopped and you froze. “What?”

“We should get married. I know I can’t protect you the same way Peeta can protect Katniss but we don’t know what’s gonna happen. Snow is pissed and I want to be able to call you my wife, even if it’s only to the people closest to us.” You were sitting up to face him now. “So Y/N L/N will you marry me?”

“Yes,” you agreed, pressing your lips to his. “Let’s get married.”

You knew you’d never be granted a marriage license so you and Haymitch exchanged rings and vows in your foyer, promising to love one another until death do you part.

Part IV | Masterlist | Part VI

#haymitch #haymitch x reader #haymitch abernathy #haymitch abernathy x reader #thg #the hunger games #the hunger games x reader #capitol punishment

320 notes · View notes

theosconfessions · 6 months

Text

if youd like to read the stephens from the beginning you can over here:)

if youd like to read the stephens continued you can over here :)

@ohsosims

theo- well at least you have a job, i guess.

blake- mr kline? can i help you find something or ?

theo-mmm actually no. just here to talk.

blake- talk?

theo- yeah talk. you have a minute or ?

blake- not really?? im sorry did i do something wrong or?

theo- not yet. at least i dont think. riv told me about you two.

blake- oh. oh.

theo- and with that being said im well aware of your..hobbies

blake- sir? i mean i play football?

theo- thats not what i mean and you know that. you KNOW exactly what im talking about here.

blake- i mean i guess.

theo- you have any kids, blake?

blake- im? im sorry where is this going?

theo- do you have any kids, blake. that you know about?

blake- [blinks] um is this a question river wanted to know more about or are you just being nosey?

theo- watch your mouth

blake-right sorry. i have a daughter. but river knew that. long before we ever did anything. i wasnt hiding anything from him.

theo- and you still involved with the mother at all?

blake- she lives across the country,no. it was young,dumb, love . not that i regret my daughter but its not idea. the situation. not great. work here for child support payments. see my daughter in the summer.

theo- and how does that happen? mother flies out here with her or?

blake- no my parents go above and beyond . go get her.

theo- you dont?

blake- better that way. we dont mix well anymore.

theo- whys that?

blake- because i slept with her friend.

theo- i see. ive done that

blake- im aware. seen your seasons.

theo- right.

blake- mr kline is there a reason why youre asking me all of this?

theo- you have any more kids rivers not aware of ? any chance you think you could not be aware of them yourself?

blake- um no? im pretty careful.

theo- you use protection with them?

blake- some of them.

theo- you use protection with river?

blake- no

theo- then youre not pretty careful. youre careless. i cheated on myhusband fifteen years ago and ended up bringing back something that coudlve fucked his life up. luckily it only got me.

blake- oh.

theo- blake, listen. river lieks you. i think he takes after his dad too much but hey. i can only control him so much,right? warn him so much. hes going to fuck up regardless.

blake- and you think im the fuck up?

theo- i think you have a potential to be a big mistake he makes yeah.

blake- wow. i like river,sir. a lot. always have

theo- i get that. thats just words, kid. i mean this shit ..its like looking at my younger self just a little bit more of a pussy.

blake- whoa.

theo- just saying if you have any intention on being serious with my son you better show him actions, kid. because i swear to GOD if he comes home and he tells me his boyfriend got some bitch pregnant..

blake- yessir. i wont. i really do like him

theo- k good. love this song.

blake- um?

#um i play football sir #poor dumb blake #little fleshing out blakes past here and theos like k its like a mirror but more douchey just dont hurt my kid ya know #dustin has no idea this all happened yet lmao #he will #the stephens continued #theo kline #blake donovan #the sims 4 #ts4 #the sims #ts4 gameplay #simblr #sims 4 #ts4 simblr #the sims stories #ts4 stories #ts4 story #the sims community

67 notes · View notes

charliemwrites · 5 months

Note

how do you think the keepers of 141 would be w/ insomniac / dsps pets?

DSPS = fancy medical way of saying nocturnal

broight to you by the fact i havent slept at all since 6-10 pm yestersay pls end my life

like poor guy is just, unable to settle down for the life of him. tried music, meditation, weighted blankets, everything, and he still just can't fall asleep so he gets up and starts wandering around. maybe he starts watching tv or a movie, maybe he makes a snack and reads, maybe he decides that now is the perfect time to do some time consuming task or clean every single inch of the house.

keeper wakes up to the sound of the pet accidentally knocking something to the ground, sees pet is gone, and freaks out. goes to living room and its just them staring at each other while the pet eats shredded cheese over the sink (straight from the bag).

on the other hand, the daytime eepiness.

it's barely twelve and poor thing can't keep his eyes open, falling asleep mid conversation, yawning with every word, seeming really distracted. he falls asleep mid - bath which is dangerous but he was just so warm and comfy! ): he can't help taking like fourteen million 10 minute naps per day. he's wandering around still in his jam jams and looks like he literally is asleep on his feet. eepy boy (:

Spiders. Hey spiders? Spiders, darling, I’m concerned. I have mild insomnia that’s managed with meds but oh my god??? And you ask me about water??? Jail for spiders.

Anyway… a good ask.

This fits feral incredibly well. If it’s not canon that Simon is an insomniac for various reasons, it should be. So those two would be up doing chaotic shit together. Like, yes, feral is eating cheese straight from the bag, but Simon is brewing the strongest coffee in this hemisphere and they’re both chatting like it’s a weekend morning. I can see them getting lots of nap times together throughout the day. Ive said before (or at least agreed) that feral is cat-coded so this daytime napping business fits perfectly for him.

Johnny would be a menace, cooing over Shy Thing and trying to get him back into bed. Shy thing would go, wait until he’s snoring, and then creep out again to continue what he was doing. He’s less midnight cheese coded and more starting a lengthy project coded. Like, his whole bedroom needs rearranging, or the bookshelf needs to be reorganized - at 2am. But oh, Johnny would coo over his eepy boy. Dress him up in Johnny’s clothes and watch him shuffle around in too long sleeves, yawning if he sits down for too long, slumping into his shoulder in a nice patch of sunlight.

Good Boy spends all day napping on or against Price. His lap is his favorite spot, but he’ll settle for tucking up against his back too. Price tuts that he needs to stay awake, but poor baby boy just can’t. Price would also try to ~tire~ him out before bed. And while that may put him down for a three hour snooze, Good Boy will be creeping out of bed to watch old cartoons and sew/knit/crochet. Price usually wakes, scoops him up, and sets him in bed with headphones and a tablet.

#asks #thoughts™️#keeper/kept au #cod #keeper ghost #keeper johnny #keeper price

81 notes · View notes

yawnzzznnn · 5 months

Text

✂Sunoo Boyfriend Head Cannons┈༝༚༝༚♡ﾞ

♡ﾞSpecial Thanks Too: Sunoo, ENHYPEN

♡ﾞNote: not requested, also remember I have a 25 days till Christmas event going on right now, requests end on December 1st, sorry if some things don't make sense Ive barley slept and it's 3am.

♡ﾞTW: kissing : jealousy : crying : pain : sympathy pain : sassy Sunoo : rude comments : public realtionship : hate : Sunoo Lowkey bullying a hate commenter : sad sunoo : I briefly mentioned the comment Niki made on Sunoo : horror movies and TV shows : foxes :

♡ﾞTaglist: @mxlly143 (if you want to be added leave an ask DM me or comment on my Taglist page with the groups you want)

11-15-23

♡ﾞSunoo, he's a very affectionate person, rather it be hugs, kisses doesn't matter he just has to have either eyes on you or feel you.

♡ﾞHe's very emotional when it comes to you, like if you cry, he cry's, if your hurting physically, he gets sympathy pains.

♡ﾞSunoo, absolutely loves playing with your hair, if you have hair that's long enough to style, he'll stay up late, on days he has off, and google/watch YouTube videos on cute hairstyles.

♡ﾞSkincare, It's Sunoo's main thing, if you don't do skincare he'll drag you out of bed and force you to let him do your skincare, now if you do skincare, when he stays over he'll share things with you.

♡ﾞJealousy, when Sunoo is jealous he tends to be super pouty, but also super sassy, almost as if switching channels on a TV, When it comes to you Sunoo is pouty, when it's the other person, he's rude, making comments either on how dry the person's hair is, or how dirty there's skin is, definitely makes comments on the pours in the other person's face.

♡ﾞIf your realtionship somehow got out publicly, Sunoo would drop everything, coming over, he'll turn both of your phones off and disconnect you from the internet, matching pajamas, face masks and, a movie marathon.

♡ﾞIf he sees you get hate online, he'll either comment on the persons post or, if its live he'll roll his eyes, and make a disgusted face, calling the person out, Lowkey making fun of them.

♡ﾞSunoo, expresses if he doesn't like your outfit, he has no shame lmfao, he will call it ugly then take you back to your closet, picking a new outfit for you.

♡ﾞMatching perfume! Sunoo loves when you smell the same, and wear matching outfits or, matching jewelry.

♡ﾞSunoo shops for you, even in different countries, if he sees something he thinks you'll like, he'll buy it. No matter the price.

♡ﾞWhen it comes to cuddling Sunoo is always little spoon, he loves to be held by you, especially when everyone started pounding on the group for the comment Niki made on his weight.

♡ﾞWhen Sunoo gets in his feels, like a joke gone to far, he comes to you and just lays there, you may think he's asleep but he's not, he's just sad.

♡ﾞIf you like horror, when watching one of your shows or movies, Sunoo will make a disgusted face, before getting scared and having to hide in your shoulder.

♡ﾞSunoo randomly brings you up to the members, like Jay could be like "back in America there were these foxes-" and sunoo comes up like "Yn actually has a fox plushie on there bed named after me" (ok that one may be based off Sunoo the plushie next to me-)

♡ﾞHe gets super shy if you comment how pretty he is, like if you comment on his chubby cheeks, or perfect nose, Sunoo will get shy and hide his face in your neck.

♡ﾞIf you wear makeup Sunoo will learn how to do certain things, and do your makeup for you.

♡ﾞSunoo as a boyfriend, is like having your own stylist, he knows how to do your hair, makeup, outfits, even the way you smell, Sunoo is the best boyfriend to have I swear.

73 notes · View notes

starker-raving-mads · 10 days

Text

For You: Part IX

im so sorry this took so long but everyone can thank @madeforstarker for kicking me in the ass to get it done. Thank you, princess <3

›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹

Peter didn't see Tony for three days.

This was partially his fault. His initial reaction to The Bedroom Incident, as he was calling it, was to flee the entire building, his feet scurrying him to May's apartment early the following morning. He spent a good few hours with his aunt - something he didn't actually regret, though the reason for the new time together soured it a little for him - and when she left for work he left for patrol. It was probably his longest patrol yet, capping off at 6 hours, and while it felt good to stretch his muscles and help the people of Queens, his mind constantly drifted back to The Bedroom Incident.

He couldn't face Tony after that.

And yet he couldn't not.

After weeks of living in the penthouse, it felt like home. It was the only place he felt well and truly free and comfortable, and Tony being there just made it even better. Even with the - awkwardness that now surrounded them, surely they could get over that right? It's not like he'd said Tony's name. Out loud, at least.

So, exhausted and starving, he swung by a 24/7 deli and grabbed two sandwiches. They wouldn't be as good as Mr. Delmar's but Peter was starving so he'd take what he could get. He ate one of them on the walk home in his street wear, taking his time by taking a circuitous route back to Stark Tower. It was just delaying the inevitable but Peter couldn't bring himself to speed up the awkward conversation he was no doubt gonna have once he got home.

And yet, once the elevator doors opened and revealed the penthouse, no one was there.

"Fri?" he called.

"Yes, mom?"

"Where's, uh - where's Tony at?"

"Boss has been dematerialized and operating within the bounds of his cognitive digital space, which I am unable to access. Would you like me to get him for you?" she asked, tone colored with curiosity. Peter had to wonder what she thought of the situation, but also did not want to know. He could only imagine the leaps in logic she would make that would hit too close to home.

He dawdled around the living room for a little while before heading down to the labs, half expecting Tony to be there, blue and glowing and insubstantial but present and, for lack of better words, alive.

This was not the case.

Tony was nowhere in the confines of the lab. Peter sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, slowly making his way toward the elevator. He stopped before he entered it and turned around, speaking aloud, "I, uh, I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I - yeah. I'll be around." He felt like an idiot speaking to an empty room but he wasn't sure what else to do.

He spent the rest of the night in the penthouse doing his online course work in silence. When he went to bed, he had Friday tell Tony just in case he wanted to know where Peter was, and then fell into a very tense and restless sleep.

The following two days were much like the first. Peter woke up, had Friday tell Tony what he was doing or where he was, visited his friends or May, patrolled, and did his online coursework. He'd come home, have Friday update Tony - not that she ever got an affirmative response - and he went to bed. He slept like shit, he felt like shit, and it was really starting to drain him.

On the fourth day, when he'd about lost his patience and his nerve, Tony finally popped into existence in the middle of the living room. It scared the hell out of him but he didn't do much more than look at the older man, dumbfounded and slightly stupefied.

"Tony?"

"Yeah, uh," the simulation ran a hand through his hair, messing it up in an impossibly cute way, "hi."

"Hi," Peter replied, lame as fuck.

They stared at each other in silence, brown eyes meeting blue ones, before Tony finally broke the tension.

"I'msorryforintrudingandseeingyoucum."

It was only Peter's enhanced senses that made the jumble of words make sense and he blushed immediately, grimacing and trying to hide it.

"It - uh, it's okay."

"It's really not, this is your place and I should give you privacy and I didn't and - " Tony paused, looking at Peter again. " - and I really should not know you have a daddy kink, kid."

"Oh god," Peter groaned, grabbing a pillow and shoving it over his face. "You heard that?"

Tony chuckled and it somehow broke the tension in the room despite the topic. "Kinda hard not to when you're all breathy and moaning. Plus," he shrugged, still grinning, "I have this kickass new memory since it all gets stored and fragmented and saved now."

"Please, please let's change topics before I pass out from blood loss," Peter begged. And, suddenly, everything felt right with the world again. This was their thing. Teasing and being teased, having fun and making jokes between all the serious stuff. It felt good, like a breath of fresh air after three very long, very lonely days.

Peter tried not to analyze what that meant for the future of his sex life.

Long and lonely, he sighed.

But, they moved topics like Peter had wanted, only to something he had not really expected.

"You what?" he asked, perplexed.

"I sent Pepper a Cease & Desist," Tony said as if it made any sense at all.

"How? Did you tell her you were - "

"Oh no, no way," the older man shook his head. "I figured neither of us were ready to pop open that can of worms. I sent it through Friday on your behalf - which," he grimaced, "I probably should've asked first, but what's done is done."

"It's fine, I guess, just - why?" That was what Peter couldn't understand. Why would Tony be sending C&Ds to his wife of all people? And on Peter's behalf no less.

"Listen, kid, I fucked up when I made my will - and before you start thinking it was about your part, it wasn't that," he cut Peter off when he saw the protest in his eyes. With a firm glare, he continued, "She had no right doing a lot of the things she did and is still doing. I had plenty of time in the last three days to think about it, analyze data, check on sources - it's amazing what having all that extra time I'd normally be sleeping can do - and I'm very unhappy with her, Pete."

"Just, why?" Peter asked again, feeling like a parrot or an NPC who had no other dialogue.

"She shouldn't have taken your blanket," the older man glared. "And she shouldn't have said what she did in that meeting room, or any of the tactics she's employed since. I know Pepper, kid, like I know the back of my hand," he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with one hand. "That means all the good and the bad. I know that I loved her, or something like that - I must have, to have gotten married and had a kid and everything," he waved his hand like this was not a tremendous thing to be admitting. Might have loved his wife. Oh boy. "But she's taking my decisions out on you and it's not right and it's not fair."

"I don't - "

"If you say you don't mind, kid, I'm gonna figure out a way to kick your ass," Tony swore. "You matter, your persona matters to the public and the shareholders, your favorite things matter even when they're just blankets, and you matter enough to me to be able to see your own god daughter."

"I - thank you," Peter replied softly, curling into the couch with a not-as-cozy blanket draped over him. "I don't know what to say to that."

"Just accept it."

Peter chuckled. "I can do that."

A sweet smile was spread across the space between them, warm and something. After a moment, Peter asked, "So what exactly did your C&D say?"

"The majority of it was just getting her to stop her public and private attacks on you," Tony started. He sat on one of the couch cushions and it was weird seeing it not sink in with his weight. "There was a second petition as well, to get visiting hours with Morgan. I hope, uh," he looked truly nervous here. "I hope you don't mind. I really think you'll love her, Pete." His eyes were earnest as he said this, not really looking for acceptance to an apology that wasn't given. Tony wanted Peter to know his daughter and Peter wanted that too.

"Of course I will," Peter smiled. "She's part you, remember?"

#starker #ironspider #peter parker #tony stark #tony stark x peter parker #peter parker x tony stark #peter parker/tony stark #tony x peter #for you fic

29 notes · View notes

reve-writes · 8 months

Text

—fault line; leon kennedy.

ʚ leon kennedy x reader | resident evil | 2,5k words. ʚ in which you and leon were both agents working for different countries, with a little bit of shared history. ʚ set in re4 but non canon compliant; reader is implied to be working for a foreign government but not specified which; reader and leon have a history of a physical relationship. ʚ a/n — this took me so long to write and im not too proud of it anyway. it sat in my drafts for probably two weeks-ish purely bc ive been watching atla and abandoning tumblr. enjoy reading anyway.

Nearly two years had passed, and you remained missing the warmth of his bed and the crinkle of his sheets. Nearly two years, and it was the first time you had seen him. Leon Kennedy stood in front of you, the set of his shoulders were stiff as he exhaled, eyes cold blues, studying you.

All around you was foreign: foreign land beneath your boots, foreign houses with stone buildings and weathered red roofs separated by rivers and mountains. Leon was the only reprieve—something familiar, bringing with him a false sense of security which you clung onto like a starved man.

"Can't you leave me alone?" Bitterness spilt out of his lips. Your eyes flit to look at anything else but him: the dried mud on your boots, the rundown docks beneath them, the opaque water of the lake.

"I did not come here for you." This was true, at least. You had set foot in the rural village for answers—not voluntarily, though. This was your livelihood.

"Of course not," he drawled. "You'd have to care first."

Enough time had passed for the dull throb in your chest to cease, but it was hammering down on all of your senses. You tried to reign your thoughts in to no avail. They galloped out of control, reminding you of the months—seven—leading up to Operation Javier.

At the time, Leon was early in his career as an agent. Lonely, easily taken by someone he had met on an outing once. You. He hadn't suspected that you could be a foreign intelligencer, tasked to unearth the secrets buried with the destruction of Raccoon City. Leon was supposed to be your impossible task—surely someone who survived that night and was made a special agent wouldn't be so trusting, his life so easily infiltrated.

You had underestimated his loneliness.

He hadn't handfed you the information you siphoned back to your handler, but he practically gave you free access. They had been gathered from eavesdropping his calls from the other room, going over his correspondences while he slept next to you. Until he was sent to South America and you followed, discreetly, of course.

This time, you overestimated your stealth.

He found you out, unravelling your motivations and deception, witnessed by the Amazon rainforest during that very mission. You had escaped before he could turn you in to be interrogated, not caring to find out what they would do to foreign spies, nor could you stand the look in his eyes.

The blues, formerly jewel-like, now fractured. You didn't take into account your own isolation, too, when you took this mission, because somewhere along the way, Leon had stopped being a mark. He had left a mark on you himself, in a way.

"I should go," you said, strangely self-conscious. It was an odd feeling; your presence being so unwanted.

"Why are you here?"

"Your president's daughter being taken was a point of interest, but I have my own reasons." A sample of whatever is infecting people here. Half-truths and lying by omission came naturally to you. You couldn't remember a time when they did not.

"I suggest you don't meddle," he said curtly and stalked off. You opened your mouth, wanting to say everything and nothing at once. Settling for the latter, you turned away from the docks.

Was he insane?

You weren't proud to say that you had been keeping an eye on Leon. Your days in the rural village had been isolating and left you parched for any semblance of companionship. He was either a mirage or an oasis, you hadn't decided which just yet.

After the gross-looking humongous lake monster was defeated, Leon had slumped and lain on his back. At first, you assumed he was merely catching his breath, but he stayed there, unmoving. He was out cold, floating in a strange lake with strange residents all around.

He would be fine, right? It wasn't as if your help would be welcome anyway, right?

You exhaled before paddling a smaller boat towards his, half cursing yourself. There was your handler's voice in your head, mocking you, asking if you were really attached to this American agent and what it was that was so special about him.

Ah, Viper. You aren't actually saving him, are you? Leave the American. Focus on the task at hand.

The boat rocked under you as you stepped over into his. Maybe you could both be the monster's meal together now. Maybe it wasn't actually dead. Maybe it had a bigger, more evil twin swimming underneath the murky surface. You placed two fingers onto his neck, by his Adam's apple and slumped back in relief when you found the pulse.

When he woke up, you were sitting on one side of the boat, knees tucked towards your chest, half asleep yourself. You had moved the boat closer to shore, where it floated near the rocky lakeside. You could've stepped off and left—should have, but something, most likely stupidity, compelled you to stay.

He was startled, understandably so, consciousness still barely registering what was happening.

"You've been out for two hours," you said nonchalantly. "You just... passed out."

"And you've been, what, just staring at me?" His biting sarcasm had returned, but something seemed off. He was staring at his hand as if it wasn't his, turning it this way and that way, flexing and clenching his fingers. His hair moved as he tilted his head, grazing his cheek.

"I don't need to stare, I know what you look like," you replied. "You're welcome for making sure you didn't die."

He scoffed. "You certainly have your motives. That's what you do, isn't it? Pretend to care for what's best for everyone. When in reality, they suit your agenda and yours only."

You wanted to smack him across the head.

"What could be my agenda, Kennedy? Huh? What use could I possibly have you for?"

"A lot, apparently." He shot you a glare. "Did they promote you after Operation Javier? You're welcome."

"They did," you admitted, something akin to shame filled your stomach, but you pressed on. The first ever sample of the T-virus that your country had was courtesy to you. It wasn't even part of your mission. Your original mission had been to dig up information on Leon Kennedy and whatever biological disaster his country found itself in. "I'm paid double what I'm used to. I'm practically a national hero to my colleagues."

"Do you want me to shake your hand?"

"No, Leon! I want you to—I want—" You trailed off, surprised at the emotional reaction you were having. You cleared your throat, schooling your expression. "It doesn't matter. For whatever it is worth, I am sorry. You didn't deserve that."

He stood up and stepped over the side of the boat, boots sinking in the water that reached all the way to his knees. "Like you said, it doesn't matter."

He walked a couple of steps before turning to look at you over his shoulder. "No offense, but I hope we never see each other again."

"I think you're infected."

You had gotten the jump on him. It somewhat amused you, despite the grim castle you were in and the grimmer news you delivered.

"But you already know that."

He looked at you as if you were a petulant child who would not leave him alone. "I had my suspicions."

You followed him down the maze-like halls. "The damsel-in-distress is infected as well, but you knew that, too."

"What do you want, ___?" He said your name like it was a curse. You only shrugged in return.

"Answers, mostly," you said. "Who's doing this and why. That is what I was sent to do."

"What do you want from me?"

The two of you were speaking in hushed tones, trying not to alert the many infected residents of the old castle. Leon looked irritated, taking big strides across the carpeted floor.

"I'm wondering the same thing."

Leon halted in his tracks at your wistful tone, watching you with the intensity of a man witnessing a once-in-a-lifetime comet. As if he was trying to take all of you in before you disappeared for good. You were oblivious to this, stuck in your own head, trying to answer the question he had asked.

Leon broke himself out of the spell. "I don't have time for this."

As soon as he said that, you heard the mumbling of hostiles, just around the corner. Without thinking twice, you pushed Leon into an unlocked door in the hallway, closing the door behind you. Leon let out a startled noise and you placed a hand over his mouth, pushing him back against the wall.

It was a tight fit.

Dark, as well.

The only illumination you had came from the dim hallway, through the slit under the door. Leon's gloved hands found their way to your waist where they squeezed, like it was something he had done countless times before—it was. Your free hand clutched his shoulder as the voices approached your hiding space, hearts pumping anxiously for a long while even after the steps started to recede.

You both let out relieved sighs.

One of his hands slid up your arm to gently remove the hand covering the bottom half of his face. You swallowed. The immediate danger had passed, but proximity to him carried another type of danger in itself.

He breathed out your name, the sound so familiar to your ears and it made you lean into his touch. This was familiar—all of it was familiar. The way your heart roared at the warmth of him, your skin burned at the slightest touch.

"I shouldn't be wanting to kiss you right now."

His chest rose with a sharp intake of breath. Softly, as if speaking anything above whispers might shatter the moment, he said, "No."

Yet his grip tightened and he pressed you closer towards him. His free hand found the side of your face, thumb tracing your cheekbone. You had already stopped thinking straight. Without being able to see him clearly, you leaned forward, feeling his breath over you.

"This is a bad idea." You tried being the voice of reason, even as your eyes fluttered close and his nose nudged yours.

"You tend to have a lot of those."

Even as he said that, you could feel his lips brushing against yours. Your hand found the nape of his neck, fingers slotting through his hair. Chest-to-chest, you could feel how rapidly his heart was beating as he could feel yours.

You cursed under your breath, before finally pressing your lips against his. He immediately responded by tracing his tongue across your lips impatiently and you opened your mouth, tasting him again. His kiss was bruising, all tongue and teeth and eagerness. He pushed you back until you hit the wall behind you.

Like a drunken man, he said, "I missed you."

"I know," you said, tugging at his hair. "I missed you, too."

He abruptly stopped, shrinking away from you as if you were a scalding thing, burning him. His hand felt around the door, before finding the handle and pushing the door open. He took a deep breath as light filtered back in through his vision.

"Leon—"

"You should go."

He shook his head, swiping his palm over his face as if chiding himself. You reached towards him, but decided against it last minute, dropping your hand to your side. This was a mistake. All of it.

"Take care of yourself."

"I'm sorry about your friend."

Leon didn't jump this time, as if he had already expected you to appear uninvited. He was sitting on the floor, leaning on the rickety metal bed where the damsel in distress—Ashley Graham—was currently unconscious on.

"He shouldn't have died."

He closed his eyes, tilting his head back. There was something broken in him. His shoulders were slumped with weariness, clothes and skin dusted with blood and grime.

"Can I sit?"

"Why won't you leave me alone?" There was no malice in his voice, or any sign of annoyance. If anything, it was exasperation.

You leaned against the doorway. Tentatively, you spoke. "When you asked me what I wanted from you. I think I know now."

He opened his eyes and sat straighter to look at you, nodding for you to go on.

"I kept thinking about it and I don't think everything I did, I did for the mission." You crossed your arms over your chest, looking at the floor. "I thought I was doing it all for the country. My country. I came to realise I'm not that much of a nationalist after all."

He scoffed. "Would you fault me if I didn't believe you?"

"Not at all. I expect you to be at least a little doubtful. Still, I wanted to say it: if we had met in another world—where you were just you and I was just me—I think we could have had it all. No duties or missions or political unrest. We could have made it."

You swallowed. Never had you thought a truth so bitter and sad could spill out of your mouth.

Leon laughed—a joyless, brief sound that tugged at your heart. "What are you trying to say, ___?"

"I'm sorry that I'm not just me," you replied, wringing your hand with anxiety. "I wish I was."

"Why not?" He stood up and approached you, each step relighting the suffocated embers in the ashes of your past. "You said it yourself, you aren't much of a nationalist anyway."

"The same reasons you can't quit being an agent." You let out a sigh, noticing the blue-black veins pulsing all over his forearm. "You have to get the cure soon, Leon. Your friend was telling the truth, that's all I know. I wish I could have helped more—they're sending someone to get me out soon, and I suggest you do, too."

"I'm not planning to die here."

"Your plans have a penchant for going awry."

For the first time in a really long time, he grinned at you. It felt as if everything in the world would go as it should, that nothing could ever go wrong. Like ice over a burn, a hot drink on the coldest day. What a smile to have.

Ashley stirred behind him.

"I'll be off, then," you said. "Be careful. I wish I'd seen you again sooner."

"Then come see me after we get out of here."

You shook your head. "I'm rubbing off on you. You're having horrible ideas."

"Leon?"

He turned around to find Ashley rubbing her eyes and waking up. When he turned back to say his goodbyes to you, you were already gone.

[ ]

#leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x reader #—ki writes 🍯

121 notes · View notes