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kisskissbanggang · 6 months

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Disavowed - pt. 7 - The Finale

[5.1k Words/19min. Read - Reverend!Jisung x Reader - NSFW/Smut - Church, Second Tries, Deja Vu, Are You Seeing Things?, Seduction, Temptation, Semi-Public Sex, Exhibitionism, Church Sex, Divine Punishment, The Journey Down isn't So Much Long as it is Confusing, Mind Reading, True Callings, Destiny, Implied Toxic/Unsavory Relationships (Not Main Characters), Manipulative Behavior, Arson, Implied Character Harm/Death (Not Main Character)]

[a/n #1: we’re in the intense/frightening parts of our halloween series! this is quite honestly a supernatural horror with religious themes dealing with transformation, desire, and sacrifice. please pay attention to the tags above, especially the ones in bold pink so you can do what’s right for you 💗]

[a/n #2: ty to @therhythmafterthesummer and @magicficwriting for beta reading and previewing this series💗]

Maybe it was the backlog of sleep you’d never be able to make up, but your recurring dream about the tower had somewhat shifted. During your fitful night of sleep on Sunday night, you would either be at the top of the tower like before, or–in a new setting–inside of a cave, being ravaged by the sea. Both scenes were bizarrely detailed. The large stone blocks comprising the tower were textured. When your shoes slid across the surface, trying not to fall off, you could hear the crags and crevices of the rough ground you were standing on. There was wind on your face. And in the cave, you could hear droplets of water fall from the ceiling, the wet climbing into the fabric of your clothes. The sky outside was overcast, but that meant you could see the definition of each wave that lapped at the mouth of the cave. That same pair of arms from the tower were there, too, but this time they were trying to pull you further into the cave, away from the entrance. When you woke up, you were exhausted.

The dreams felt important, in some arcane way.

Working through Monday felt like a slog. It was your first day, but it felt like you’d been at Pinewood Prep for ages. Maybe it was your lack of sleep.

Maybe, you were humoring, it was making such pointed eye contact with Reverend Jisung at mass the previous day. What was that about, anyway? There was something about him, about the way he looked at you, and it was almost driving you to obsession.

It didn’t help that you were pushing yourself through busy work.

Jacqueline’s desk was empty when you arrived that morning. A queasy sensation settled in your stomach when you remembered catching the end of her encounter with Father James the other day. Now, in an attempt to not let the front office fall into disarray, you took it upon yourself to look through her pile of filing that she’d left behind. It only felt fair. She didn’t deserve anyone thinking she’d been bad at her job just because there was work left to do.

“Shame about Jacqueline,” Sister Judith tutted when she exited her office, holding a duster. Jacqueline’s desk sat just inside the door, abandoned. “She did always know how to keep my shelves spotless. And I suppose she closed the age gap in the staff. Now it’s just you and the reverend, I believe.”

You liked Sister Judith well enough. She was terrifying, sure, but you imagined that she was beleaguered trying to keep masses of teenagers behaved and devout. Not like Father James, who made you uneasy for more reasons than just what you could infer was going on between him and the sister’s former assistant. As it turned out, Jacqueline would typically bring the sister and father their mail, so you had felt a need to volunteer for this earlier that morning as well.

Father James’ office was back out at the chapel, and that isolation made everything even more awkward for you. It’s not like you were looking for reasons to not like this man, but he wasn’t helping any. He’d stared at you, stopping you in your tracks at the door as he sat at his desk. You’d held up his mail in your hand and he nodded his permission for you to enter, almost begrudgingly after he’d managed an ingratiating smile.

“Oh, hold on, lamb. Before you go,” he’d said, stopping you again. Father James had taken your hand then and dropped something into it. “See if the sister would like this, would you? Tell her I found it after mass last week. No one’s come looking for it.”

When you’d left, you immediately peeked into your closed fist. On your palm sat a golden letter J on a dainty chain.

But that wasn’t what had necessarily put you off so badly. Maybe the lighting in the Father’s office was terrible, but you didn’t enjoy a creepy interaction taking place in a creepily dark room. The lighting might’ve actually only been bad closer to his desk, really. Like a bulb had gone out or something. Come to think of it, something was weird about the lighting in the front office as well. Sister Judith had looked particularly rosy, different from the other day.

This realization brought you back to something the sister had said, though.

“Sister,” you called over. She turned back around from the records she was flicking through. “What exactly did you say about the age gap in the staff?”

“Oh,” she waved you off with her persistent frown. “You and the reverend are the youngest, that’s all. Speaking of which, you’ve been so proactive today that it’s given me an idea. Bring these records over to him, the reverend. Jacqueline was running the after school study group in the library, so it only makes sense that he take it on now. I’m not sure what a librarian does all day but I assume he has time.”

Your observation remained true, though. The lighting could’ve been weird, or Sister Judith looked almost rouged, even her auburn fringe looking more red from where it was peeking out of her habit.

Or you could’ve simply been going crazy. You already couldn’t sleep. The thought amused you on your walk down the hall to the library, records in hand. When you entered, you found the main room to be empty, including the information desk that you assumed the reverend typically sat at. You warily took a look down each aisle, not wanting to startle anyone.

Finally, you spotted him. The deacon stood tall, reshelving books from his cart.

But it wasn’t just that. There was a distinct hue surrounding the reverend, too, his being the sweetest shade of blush pink. The word aura came to mind but the word aura also sounded insane. You’d originally considered it when you were in Father James’ office, and you thought about it again when you were speaking with Sister Judith, and you tried to ignore it when you saw the students in the hall during passing period, all of them haloed in nice shades of white and cloudy gray.

You needed some fucking sleep.

During your manic little internal monologue, the deacon had a chance to see you before you could greet him first. His eyes widened in recognition again, but his excitement managed to lift your mood a little.

“New girl!” he chipperly greeted while he approached to shake your hand. “You’re in the front office, right? Are you the new Jacqueline? I swear I saw you at mass yesterday.”

“Yes, you saw me,” you answered, attempting to take on one question at a time. “And yes, I’m in the front office, but I’m not the new Jacqueline. I’m the new office manager. Speaking of Jacqueline, though, Sister Judith wants you to take on the study group after school.”

The deacon was a deer in headlights when you handed him the records the sister wanted you to pass along. “No problem,” he chuckled sardonically, “I definitely have time and that’s absolutely not outside of my contract hours.”

“I work hourly if you need any help,” you gently offered. “It was nice to meet you, Reverend–”

“Just Jisung is fine,” he interrupted. “And–I’m sorry–have we met? I swear we have. Did we study at Cypress Springs together?”

“No, sorry,” you laughed apologetically. “Were you hoping we did?”

Jisung blushed at your response, adorably matching the shade of pink surrounding him that you were trying very hard to ignore. “Come on,” he pretended to whine, “help me out here. I know we met.”

“Maybe in a dream,” you teased, getting the shade of his cheeks to deepen, spreading to his ears now. It felt reckless to be flirty with a man of the cloth, but you simply didn’t want to stop. By now, you almost wanted him to try asking you for some time alone together–

Which was a wild thought, come to think of it. There was no way Deacons were allowed to do that, right?

But it still sounded fun. It wasn’t your fault he was handsome, or that he was dying to know how you supposedly knew each other. You were just admiring, really.

Even though you were admittedly curious about the same thing.

“I should get going, Jisung,” you grinned, “but let me know if you want help with the study group.”

You turned to leave, but a hand on your sleeve stopped you. Jisung quickly relinquished you.

“Would you want to go grab a drink some time?”

You tried to maintain your composure. “As friends? Not as a date?” you ribbed.

Jisung shook his head in agreement. “Of course. Never as a date. With Jacqueline gone, you and I are the two youngest staff members. There are reasons, you know, for us to get to know each other. As friends.”

“You could pick me up tonight,” you suggested, folding your arms across your chest but also pretending to stroke your chin in consideration. “You know, as friends. I know a place out in Briar Bay.”

“Briar Bay?” Jisung asked. “Why out there?”

“Because,” you explained matter-of-factly, “that way no one can make any assumptions that you and I aren’t just friends.”

A cute grin spread across Jisung’s lips. “Just friends. That sounds great.”

╚⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷╝

Your fellow boarders tried to tease you by peeking out the window when Jisung came to pick you up, but he beat any allegations by coming to the door and introducing himself.

You know, as your new friend.

He was dressed handsomely casual in a sweater and jeans, with a ball cap pulled low over his eyes. Why he looked even more familiar now was beyond you, but you were accepting that to be an irrefutable aspect of your situationship by this point. You’d considered another turtleneck for yourself since the weird mark between your breasts was still not gone, but you decided instead on a sweet dress with flirty straps at the shoulders underneath a cute cardigan. Nothing flashy, nothing too enticing, nothing intimidating.

As if that had ever been a concern of yours.

And the night was nice. According to the sign outside, the bar was called the Trawler. The jukebox provided plenty of privacy by way of ambient noise mixed with off-duty fishermen loudly griping to each other. After your first drink together, Jisung slipped off his ball cap, brushing his fingers back through his hair. He complimented your perfume and you told him you liked his aftershave. Your feet brushed against his under your table in the corner of the dank bar and he either didn’t notice or didn’t care.

You leaned forward, propping up your elbows on the table and resting your chin on your clasped hands. “What’d you study at–what was it again–Cypress Springs?”

Jisung blushed into his drink. “I tried normal things like interpretation theory, but those were always hard for me. I like soteriology. Do you know what that is?” The blush in his cheeks tripled with your clueless shrug. “It’s like the study of salvation and stuff, that sort of thing. Do you want to dance with me?”

You both paused, and Jisung looked like he had no idea if he stepped over the line or not. On the jukebox, a cheesy love song was making the fishermen quit their complaining and pull their partners out to the floor for a slow dance.

“As friends,” he bashfully clarified. “You can say no.”

You smiled sweetly. “No, I’d love to.”

Jisung humbly grinned and offered you a hand away from the table. He let you reach first, leading his hands to wrap around your waist before you wrapped yours around his neck.

“What about outside of college?” you asked. “What did you like?”

The thick pause Jisung took told you he had a different answer off the bat, but kept it to himself. “It’s nerdy,” he laughed, rolling up the sleeves of his sweater, “but my mentor loved the occult. Not even in a condemning way but, like, how the church could’ve done a better job identifying threats and dealing with them. It was nice, just geeking out about this stuff together when I wasn’t studying.”

This set off your fight or flight reflex for an unforeseen reason, but you chose to rationalize it instead. Of course there were guys in seminary that were obsessed with the occult. You, on the other hand, had no interest in the occult or any mysticism for that matter (or even church for that matter, if you were being honest), so there was literally no reason for you to freak out about this information.

Right?

But still, it’d been too long since you made Jisung blush, perhaps getting too comfy, and you were craving that little adrenaline rush.

“You want to take me home?” you asked suddenly. Jisung’s eyes comically widened and you laughed out loud. “Not like that!” you giggled. “It’s a school night. Want to give me a ride back to the boarding house?”

Jisung sighed in full relief. “Yeah, of course.”

Back in his beat-up little shitbox sedan, you watched as he drove. Not just because he was handsome and charming and sweet–

But because you thought you could hear something. When you focused, easier to do now without the commotion of the bar, it was easier to make out over the sound of the car on the road.

This is fucking crazy.

Was that–?

Just friends. That’s rich. I look like such a creep. This looks so bad.

Jisung. You were hearing Jisung’s thoughts.

You didn’t need a good night’s sleep; you needed a psychiatrist. But regardless, you tested this.

“Thanks for inviting me out tonight,” you coolly mentioned. “It was pretty brave of you, honestly. This sort of thing could look bad to the wrong person.”

Jisung transparently side-eyed you from the driver’s seat. “Yeah,” he breathlessly attempted to laugh it off, “I’m glad you understood what I was looking for.”

The rest of the ride was dead silent, but only because you were intently listening to Jisung internally berate himself all the way back to Pinewood Falls. However, as luck would have it, that was when you had your next amazing idea.

“You know,” you piped up. “You don’t have to drive me home if that feels weird. I can walk from school.”

“You can?” Jisung asked eagerly. He immediately took the turn for the parking lot behind the gym, almost too excited to stop making this look bad. A truck was parked closer to the rear entrance of the church, so he veered out of sight by the vestibule, inadvertently doubling your walking distance to the school.

You demurely smiled and got out of the car when Jisung parked. From where he was sitting, you could hear his sigh of relief, but he almost jumped out of his skin when you ducked back down. “Hey,” you pouted, “I just remembered I forgot my phone charger in my desk. I can grab it while I’m here, but I’m scared to go alone. Can you come with me?”

Jisung paled at your request.

Fucking liar, he panicked. He was right, but you were mostly just curious to see how much you could push his buttons. The reverend loved your fake date so much, how far would he go to simply have a good time?

“Yeah,” he finally nodded. “Of course I’ll go with you. Wouldn’t want you to be scared.”

You walked a respectable distance ahead so as to silently reassure him that you weren’t trying to jump his bones, but this also gave you a good, hard minute to think about what the hell you were doing. Why were you being so brash? Why were you being so forward?! It was like every single impulse you’d ever had, you were suddenly acting on them, and the thought was exhilarating and terrifying at the same time. Something about it made you feel good. Something about it made you feel unstoppable. It was familiar and new all at once and now that you experienced it, you never wanted it to stop.

Jisung paused, noticing something out of the corner of his eye and doing a double take, and it made you do the same. The door at the back entrance of the chapel was propped open.

That’s weird, the reverend thought. A gleeful little thought took hold in your mind.

“Hey,” you noticed out loud, “you think someone is still here this late?”

God I hope not, Jisung said.

“I’m sure it’s the night custodian,” he shrugged, trying to rush you along.

“Then we should let him know he left the door open!” you teased while you grabbed his sweater sleeve and pulled him along. “An open door this late at night could let all sorts of things in.”

Like us, Jisung moaned, but he followed you nonetheless.

You peered into the heavy rear entrance of the church before stepping inside the dark hallway. The reverend looked over his shoulder before letting the door close behind him, the doorstop shoved into the jamb thunking ominously when you both entered the eerily still space. You grabbed his arm, the comfort not unwelcomed in the moment, and Jisung felt along the wall to pull you into the doorway leading to the altar at the front of the church. He flipped a light switch, which only illuminated the front half where you were standing.

“Well,” Jisung began, clasping his hands together, “I should go check the vestibule.”

He jogged away before you could stop him. Apparently, Jisung really didn't want to be left alone with you, which was a funny thought in and of itself. You would think taking his vows meant he’d have better self-control, but no. Just being around you was getting him wound up.

You loved that, in a way.

Maybe every way.

You strolled around the altar, enjoying this alternate perspective, away from the restricting social graces of mass. The worn and faded carpet, the heavy oak altar standing bare because it wasn’t in service. The chair Father James sat in during church, and the one beside him for Jisung. Overhead, the large, formidable cross loomed, anchored firmly to the wall over the respective cabinets for the sacraments and the holy oils by the door to the robe room.

Tabernacle. Ambry.

The words weren’t in Jisung’s voice; they were in your own. You just knew them all of a sudden.

Ridiculous, you thought to yourself. You’d heard them before, obviously.

Shaking off that weird feeling of not quite knowing how you knew this, you hopped up to sit on the altar, a little gesture to maintain the status quo and cool your nerves, but doing this made another odd sensation of familiarity wash over you.

Jisung walked up the aisle to you, shooing you off the altar while you simply sat and kicked your feet.

“Would you get down from there?” he helplessly scolded.

“Sure, if you help me,” you teased.

Jisung sighed and approached the steps to the altar. He hesitated for a solid beat before putting his hands on your waist to help you down. His doe eyes were sweet when you made eye contact.

“You’re really sure?” he asked. “We never met before?”

You smirked in response. “I thought we did, remember?”

The reverend blushed. His aura was persistent even in the dim church. “Right,” he sarcastically nodded, “in a dream.”

“Did we go on a friend date in your dream, too?” you grinned. “Or was it a real one, the kind where you drive me all the way home?”

Jisung looked down at you, his hands still on your waist. His breathing was the smallest hint of ragged.

“Why are you doing this?”

He asked it quietly, like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to ask at all, but you considered it all the same. Ever since you saw him the previous morning, you wanted to snatch him up like a helpless little animal. This wasn’t like you.

Well, it wasn’t like how you were used to being. But this felt incredible.

“Why am I doing this?” you repeated. Jisung nodded. You cupped his face in your hands. “Because I want to,” you answered. When you kissed him, he didn’t deny you. In fact, Jisung fell right into you, all while silently wishing he would come to his senses and stop. Nonetheless, his arms wrapped around you and he kissed you harder, almost too sloppily while his eager tongue explored your mouth.

“Maybe I should drive you home after all,” Jisung murmured against your lips. His sigh was almost a whine when you pulled away, and he watched as you slipped off your cardigan and sauntered over to Father James’ grand chair.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, he cursed in quick succession, clearly at odds with himself before you seated yourself on the edge of the lavish chair and beckoned him over. Jisung complied almost instantaneously, practically sweating when he fell to his knees, his lips caressing your neck while he gingerly parted your knees.

“Be patient with me,” he sheepishly, lightly joked, “it’s been a long time.”

“A long time like ever?” you cooed.

Jisung’s pretty aura pulsed a deeper pink when his cheeks rouged. He hid his bashful face in the crook of your neck, kissing you wherever he could find untouched skin while he eased you open under your dress and panties with his fingers. The headrush was incredible. Jisung folded and all you had to do was give him the chance to do it.

“Nervous?” you asked.

Fucking terrified, he answered.

“No,” he lied. “Why should I be nervous?”

You kissed him again, ushering him deeper into blatant sacrilege when you felt him unzip his jeans. So far, all you really had to do was kiss him in the first place. After that, he was a goner. Jisung kissed you harder, his length prodding into you when he stopped.

Goddamn, he refused, I can’t–

“Jisung,” you sighed cutely, getting his focus back. His eyes watched, rapt, when you pulled the dainty straps of your dress off your shoulders, the neckline sliding over and under your breasts. The mysterious scar between your cleavage was a concerning shade of maroon, but you didn’t let yourself become distracted. “Doesn’t it feel so good to let yourself have what you want?”

The reverend nodded, almost dazed when he leaned down to kiss you again. His deliciously hard member teased deeper into you and you gasped–

D̷̠̭̫̻͇͙͙̈́̋͘o̸̡̢̧͈͚͕͇̣̬̯̩̳̺͔͚̪̱̞̍͆̆̌̂͛̍́͛̂͆̇̌̎̋̉̄̈͜͜͜͝ ̵̨̡̦̘͔͎͚̝̮̯͈͓̹̮̰̹̠͉̞͐͐̊͊̾̋͗̅̓͛̚͝͝͝ͅÿ̸̳̩̗͉͈̺́̈́͊͐̀̋̌̒̽͝o̶̼̘̭͔͍̫͓͈̱̰̮̠̠̻̺̺̐̅̍́͌ų̴̡̛̹̙̲͙͈̦̝͇̝̖̰͙͕̱͇̍͒̃̇͒̓͋͒̐͛̾̈́̍̎͋̂̀͊̚͜͝͝͝ ̴͈͎͈̰̩͖̿̅͋͒̓͐̉̒̀̓́̐̓͋̎͜ṛ̵̱̆̎̾̑̅̑͐͆͛̅̓̋̀̃̅̋͘̚̚̕͝ȅ̸̢̤̯́̑̋͛̌̅̑̀̇͒̈́͠m̶̡͔̩̙̹͖̗̻̰̹̺̫̳͉̰͓̩̠͈͈̂̅͋͛́͆̽̕͘͝͠ȩ̶̨̡̧̗͚̗͙̱̘̦̳͓̭̤͙̹͉̖̟͛͛̇̌̐̔̀̇̏͆̿̇̈́͊̎̐̉͊͛̅́͜ͅͅͅṁ̵̛͓͔̹̠̦̠͓̖̦̼̥̳̪̮̱̮͍̱̮̗͗͗͆͑͋̾̈̓̔̄͐̀̉̽͝͝͝b̴̼͇͙͚͉̻̪̮͈̋͜ę̴̨͍͓̭̫͊͊́̑̈́͆̉̎̈̏̍͑͌̓͑͘͠ŗ̸̞̦̥̳̮͈̮͎̗̩̬͇͍̦̂͐͘ ̸̛͓͔̜̠̬͍̱̤̠͗̂̊̑̎̇̿̃̔̉̌̋n̶͇̈́̓͗͋̾́̕ơ̷̧̨̪̰̟̟̤͉̭̌̓̓͗̍̇̒̍̎̓͗̒͂͂̈̎̔̃́̀̄̕͜͜w̷̘̖͕̭̃̾̀̽̔̊̑̏̽̇͊̉̾̈̐̆̈́́̊̃̑̅͘̕ͅ,̷͍̐͋̒̿́̂̀̀̈́̋̓͂̆̓̅͝ ̵̢̦̫͙͈̳͕̻̝͊́̀͒̎̾̅̆̒̀̉̓̕̕̕̕b̴̡͍̱̥̣̤̲͖̱͓͚̹͍͕̤͗̓́̉̂̃͒̾̍̔̓͝ę̸̠̪̮͚̙̹̞̙͍͓̱͔̖͖͂͗͋͂̐̉͆̑́̄́̌ͅļ̸͔̈́͆̍̈́̿̏̋̏́̑̓̓͘͘͠ơ̶̖̹̙̜̫̒͆͐v̵̛̯̱̣̻̖͙̦̺̐̔́͆̊̋̂̇̉̇̎̿̑̿͆̕͠͝͝͝͝e̶̻͑̾̄́̽̀̈́̿̓̽̈̐́̀̈́͌͗̚̚d̸̲̳̀̇͌͜?̷̧̡̨̢̻̪̥̙̩̯̭̜͈͖̟̮͕̗͙̳́̏̅̽̈

My mind flashes white again and it’s almost like I’ve been dunked underwater. I feel like I’m falling through the fucking chair. The air is sucked out of my chest again, full panic, and all I can think about is the fact that I’m fucking Jisung again.

This isn’t right. Where is Chris? That fucking coward. He abandoned me again, and for what? So that I can find him again after I fall? I don’t even know how this happened, because why the hell would I fuck Jisung again? He tried to get me goddamn exorcized, that son of a bitch, he’s lucky I don’t strangle him right here and now–

Y̸̘̭̜̣̭̗͙̯͉̗͖̭̜̱̱̜͉͈̬͚̣͌͜͜ơ̷̢̨̯̙̭̭̘̮̼̦̣̻͍̹̯̮͗͋̒͌̆͛̈́͑̅͌́̇̀̆͘͜͝͠ͅͅứ̶̞̐͒̾̂̾͑̓̿̅͛͋̀̓̅̕̕͝͝'̴̡̡̡̛̭̟̮͈͎̬̯̟͖̞̙̳̤͋́͛̌̔̀̂̿̊̚̕͘ṛ̷̢̡̢̧̢͓͎͚͉̻̞̱͉̠͕͇̺̮̳̩̗̉̑̔̾̌̔̑͒̀͋̕͜ͅē̵̘͓̈́ͅ ̸͍͖̣͇̻͈͎̫͔͎͎̥͗̈́́̊̔̌á̵̳̼̫́͛̐͐̀́̃̓̈́̉̉͠ļ̴̖͕̘͚̤̻̥̺̟͆́m̵̢̡̧̛͎̲̻͖̰͔͓͖̲̺͇̦̼̟͍̮̥̤̬̱̅̍̄̄̂̽̓̅͗̅́̂̂͑̊̋͒̄͒̀͘͜͝ö̸̭́̆̈̿͆̎̋̿̌̎͐̐s̸̭̠̲͈͚̰̘͍̝̙̘̭̘̋͗ͅt̷̡̛̖̯̹̩͚̠͙̘̖͇̥̪̖̞͎̫͆̀͌͆̊̓̎̃́̈́̒̑̄̑͋̀̆̂͛̕͝ ̶̡̞̞̮̝͒̏̍t̶̨̨̢̖̩͇̣̱̲͖͇͇̩͈͉͙͇̺̓̂̍̒͂̀̂̑͑̎͋́͒͜ḣ̸̨̩̤̼̖͖̱̜͎̱̺͈̺͉͂̉̀è̵̡̝̘̩͚͎͍̥̘͈̩̦̯̇̿̚r̴̢̜̥͕̘̣̝̭̼͕̥̃̀ę̵̳̳̫͇͓͉̩͍͕̩̯̝͆͆̉͐̾̔̂̈̒͆.̵̡͓̻̤̆̇͊̏̔͒̓̓̅͂̆̊̒̈́͋̓̽̌̾̆ ̵̢̡͉͔͙͖͇̲̪̰͓̦̜͔̳̌͂̍͗̕̚͠Y̷͍̘̗̳̲͆̐́̈́̚ǫ̵̰͕̟͍̻͉̼̺̯͙̠̇̊̚͜ͅư̶̧̡̡̺͎̤͍͙̪̠̘̤͇̥̺̬͋͜͝'̸̡͈̙͋̈́́́͋͐̈́́̓̕r̷̢̞͖̱͚͓̫̝̯̻͍̖͓̩̯̆̎̋͆̀̀̔͆̒ͅͅe̶̳̼̹͖͚͔̭̼̺̳̗͖̦̟̗̿̈́͗̈́̚̚ ̶̡͕̤̲̺͖̞̼̭̳͉̞̖̇͊͌̄̂͜ͅs̷̼̲̟͆̑͂̂͋͋̏̓͑́̉̈́̈́͘̚͝o̶̧̡̟̱̞̝̟͒͛̇̚ ̷̧̢̤͖̘̜̩͈͇̲̙̋͒̿͑̾̓̂̑͊̉̀̌̍̚p̶̪̝̎̇̀̇̐͌͋̾̍̾̍̿̉͌̏͘͠͝ȩ̵̧̤͓̖̬̲͂͆̒̍̐̋͐̏͆̓̇̈́̋̌̈̈̓͘͜͝ŗ̵̧̛͔̠͖̙̺͇͎͖̱̈́̌̂́̈́́̾͌̽̓̕f̶̱̣̘̖͔͙̤̣̯͎̙̼̰͈̱̩̬̠̙͉̙̏̎͊͐̽͠e̷̳̠̯̻̱̯̭̺̦̤̗̘̹̟̝͈̭̣͍͂̄̀͋̾̈́̉̓̈́̕̕̚̚͜͠c̴̢̛̙̭̥̬̹̤̞̠̎t̶͚͕̤̜̂̉̏̐̆̒̋͜͝.̸̡̻͇̥̭̖́͐̈́̈́̀̆̉̋͗͐̀̂́͒̈́͘͠͝͠ ̵̨̡̧̖̦̬̖͙͕̭̜̜̝̯̹̠̦̪̮̻̙̈́̽̉͊͌̈́̇̿̔́̂̀̈́̓͋́̽̂̌̈̕̚͠͝J̶̹̩̦̗̟̯̣̰͐̆̓̎̈́̍̑̀͂̽̈́͆̂͗̏̈́̈́̃͘͘͝u̷̢̡̝̦̦͇̹̳̮̖̦̹̓͛̀͊̓͑́s̷̲̙͈̲̤̦͎̺͍̻͌̔̿̈͊̀̂̋̿͋͌̓̈̍̔̓̌̕͝͠ͅt̶̙̣̰̥̙̪͐͌̅̇͒̔̚͘͜ ̷̨̮̲͙̟̤̼̤̮̥͚͓̱̜͖͈͚͍̿̀͛̇͒̎͂͌̐͜͜à̶̢̧̢̛͔͕̞̟̖̰̙̬͕̱͈̘̖̦̪̟̳̝̅̏͂̾̃́͌͑͌̀̈́̎̊͂̂̌̄͊̄̚͜͝͝ͅͅ ̷̨͉̘̭̗͚͙͖͓̙̞̝͈͖̜͈͖͚͖̮̙̂̌̓̅̒̓͛́̃̕̕̚͝͠ļ̸̯͈̱̳̫͓̺̰͋̆̈́̓͐̐̊̓̈̅̆͌͐̈́̊̈́͘͠ͅi̶̛̛̛̳͕̰͌̏̓̌̒̍͂̀̅̅̅̔̚͘t̴̫̪̘̰̫͈̩̰̫̺͕̞̖̲͓̯̝̟̲̑̍͌̇́̎̀͌͒̕͜͜͠ͅẗ̶̮̠̜̟̦̩̠̹̰͔̜̥̳̤͖́͊̋l̷̡̯̖̦͂̒̉̐́̾̒̿̈́͛̊̔́̉ë̸̢̘͉͕̱̩̣̱̖̳̦̻̰̲͓͈̺̪͔̐͌̆̔̍̽͊͗̊̀̓̍͘͘̚̕͜͝͝͠ ̶̹̮̓̍͗̂̍́̒̉̽̅̊̌̐̄̍̓̈́͝f̴̡̤͇͓̬̊̏̂̌̑̎̎͗̉ą̶̟͈̙̞̞͖̪͔̬̤̙̟͔͖̹͇̝̘̣̒̋̂͒͒͒͆͒̏̑̌̋͋̍́̅̏̀̔͂̕͜ŗ̵͍͚̫̮̠͚̭̺͐̋̄̑͐̐̔͑͘͜͝ͅt̶̡̛̞͉̱̭̠̺͙͎̣̗͓̆͗͆͋̿͌̽̃̌̐̿̓́̎̈́̔̚͘͝͝͠͠h̷̖͗͐̃̄̀̽͒̀͌̃̊̈̀̑̏͠ę̵̞̻̲̭̃͗̄͋̀̑̍͛̌̐̕r̸̛͖̼̩̝͒͑̊͒͒̀̍̏͊̃̂̐̉̚ ̵̢̖̞̹̪̱̦͓̫̥̄̉̌̊͠ͅď̷̢̧̧̢͓͙̪̣̹̮̺̗̤̰̰̗̪̖͇̞̠͇͔̻̀̈́̏͛͊̈͋́̐͑̎͘̚͘͝͝ǫ̵̡̱͉̖̫͈̩̬̟͇͎̟͓̳̜͗̂̾̒͋͑͂́w̷̨̨̠͎̬̥̥̞͙͚͎͈̎̾̋͐͐̉͛͂̆̔͊̊̈́̈́̚n̴̢̙̬̰̜̋.̶̡̛̲̹͙͍͖̮̀̃̍̃̑̄̅͒̐̈̉̎̕͝

The main lights of the church flipped on, and although the fright almost made you jump out of your skin, you were still set on edge and bewildered by the sudden influx of memory. This wasn’t the first time you fucked the reverend, nor was it the first time you ever enjoyed feeling this powerful. But still, there were bewildered tears irritating the corners of your eyes.

Chris, that asshole. You were going through this alone and all you could think about was how you wished you could see him again. Meanwhile, Jisung’s aura burned a lovely shade of wine red while he thrust inside you.

You had to hand it to him–he was much sweeter this time around. This felt too good to stop, really, and you knew Jisung felt the same. He wanted this from the beginning, and all you had to do was let him have it.

But you wanted Chris, that bastard. Whatever he was, if he was some being like you thought you might be, then you were disgustingly proud of yourself for being able to crumble him. With Jisung’s gorgeous aura radiating off of him, all you could think about was that nighttime walk in Briar Bay with Chris.

“You glow, you know.”

“What?”

“Yeah. I like the way you glow in the moonlight.”

You were infatuated enough at the time to think he meant it romantically, but knowing he meant it literally was somehow–annoyingly–even sweeter.

“Reverend? What on Earth are you doing?”

The pleasant buzz of your sordid encounter wore off fast when you looked over Jisung’s shoulder.

Father James.

Jisung looked, too, and almost pulled out of you before he fell right back into you. Much to your amusement, he was conflicted. “Oh, fuck,” he whined under his breath.

The old man had an aura, too. You knew something looked weird in his office this time around. A void of inky black whirled around him.

Fitting.

“Jisung,” you taunted again, grabbing onto the collar of his sweater.

He put a hand on yours, meagerly attempting to peel you off but holding on regardless. “We–I–we can’t–”

“But you want it, don’t you?” you pouted before grinning, almost triumphantly. “Fuck me, Reverend.”

“Oh, God–!” Jisung repeated with a whimper as he was rocked by his climax, shocked as he was by your use of his title that he’d worked so hard for, vowed for, and now fully betrayed. He collapsed more fully to his knees, spent and dazed now that the clarity was starting to seep in. “Fuck,” he wheezed, “I can’t believe I just–”

You cupped Jisung’s face again before noticing Father James furiously approaching the altar. Thinking fast, you stopped him in his tracks.

“Please wait, Father,” you ordered. As it turned out, you were furious, too. “I’ll be with you in a moment.”

Astounded and simmering in rage, Father James was successfully frozen in place.

Jisung seemed on the brink of shock. He really let himself get lost in it, it would seem. His glazed eyes began to water. “I can’t believe I–”

“Shh,” you comforted him, kissing his forehead. “It’s okay. It’s just what you wanted, that’s all. I think we both used each other for something. It’s alright, Jisung. Go to sleep.”

The reverend, his aura still a fiery red, nodded feebly before his eyes rolled up to close. And just as you thought, having never tried this before, Jisung simply faded from sight, presumably back to where you wanted, at home in his bed. Father James’ eyes boggled as he watched the reverend disappear. You arose from the old man’s chair, smiling coyly and bringing him to his knees in front of the altar steps. It was fun, watching him try to resist you.

When you were standing in front of him on the steps, he couldn’t help but look at your exposed chest, your dress still draped down off your shoulders. The smell of smoke wrinkled your nose, and the mark that Chris bit into you was still there, smoldering like a cinder.

“Enjoying God’s gifts, Father?” you smiled sarcastically.

It was almost amusing, the way it looked like the old man had to fight against an unseen force to even talk. This was your first time ever really trying this. Something dark in you wondered if Chris ever did this. You imagined he must’ve at some point. The thought of it electrified you. You lifted your dress straps back up over your shoulders.

“I don’t–I don’t understand,” Father James gritted out.

You picked up your cardigan off the floor and slipped something out of the pocket before dropping the garment again. The priest’s eyes locked on the golden charm you dangled from your hand.

“I didn’t know about her on the first go-around,” you disappointedly shook your head, like a parent lecturing a child. “You’ve been doing this a long time, but how long were you doing this? How many other women were there, Father?”

You didn’t force him to answer, and he didn’t. Instead, he kept his lips tightly pursed. For a moment, you considered doing this just like you had last time.

But you decided against it.

Last time, you were terrified, scared, not understanding what was happening to you or why. You’d convinced yourself in the moment that you were only enraged, but within you, you knew you were horrified. This time? You knew even more. You hated all of this even more. You understood yourself even more.

And besides, you wanted this even more.

Father James’ joints creaked, showing his age as he got up against his will. Unlike last time, he walked into the robe room, where the rest of the supplies for mass were kept. He emerged with a hefty jug of liquid paraffin, used for refilling the large pillar candles on either side of the altar. When he stood in front of you again, he reached into his breast pocket and brought out his pack of cigarettes with his lighter tucked inside. He handed you the pack, and watched as you tipped the contents into your hand and only returned the lighter.

“Why are you doing this?” he somberly asked. His eyes softly closed when you cupped his scratchy cheek, the skin worn and roughed over time.

“You know why, lamb,” you answered. “You let yourself have what you wanted. Everything is bought, everything comes with a price. Maybe you don’t pay for it at the time, but you do pay.”

Father James stoically accepted this.

“Or don’t,” you shrugged. “Pay later. You don’t have to stay. But I know how I felt. Who knows how the rest of them felt.”

Just like last time, Father James did not argue. He did not beg or plead as you walked down the aisle, away from the altar. The night air was nipping your nose when you emerged from the church, and you spied Jisung’s car. Wanting to test this out as well, you desired it back at the reverend’s place. Sure enough, the car vanished, too.

You walked, taking your time encircling the church until you found Father James’ truck. As you predicted, the old man kept the keys in the visor, a wild assumption of safety in his quiet, little town. You smelled smoke again, but this time it was the church. You got out of the truck cab and opened the tailgate so you could sit on it and watch as the smoke slowly turned into flames.

Something felt grounded inside you, and you smiled contentedly.

Maybe now you’d find Chris.

Or maybe you didn’t want to yet.

T̶̡͎̤͇͈̪̯̿͋h̴͉̟͚͇̯̖̹̗̒̉͆͛͂͆̅̇̂̄̾͜ḙ̷̢̧͚̞̹͈̞͖̲͛̃͒́̌̍̇͑̂͊̓͜ ̶̨̡̡̮͎̲͖̲̖̱̺͚̬͈̆͒̈̅̄̉̈́̿͆́͘w̴͔̥͛̓͌̏̽͒̄̒̚̚͝ā̴̡̢̨͉͚̩̗͓̥̤̼̤͊͂̈́͘ÿ̶̡̧͈̹̗̇̿͒̅́ ̵̨̲͎͕̖͓͓̺̬̬͚͋̆̇͋̋̉̒̈́̆̇̄͑̓͜͝ỵ̴̞̣̖͓̲͎͙͍͔͈̜̄̎̇̈́̂̋̈́͆́͊͝ͅō̵̝̰̲͋̍̅ụ̴͍̻̍͂́̉̀͋͐̚̕͝ ̷͚͓͚̫̦͒͒̌̏̍͝f̴̙̎̑̊̈́̂̈́̿̔̓͂͒̉̕ę̷͖͓̰͇͎̰̰̳̅̈́͋̍͌̐͘l̵̨̨̡͖̞̞̮̲͕̳̩̱̜̟͌͑̈̓̓̀͐̾͆̔̓̆̕͝͝l̶̜̮̱̹̾͒́͂͒̅̽̒̚͠͠ ̶̛̩̱̘͇̘̭̱̈́͗̂͂͜l̷̢̛̳̳̭̪̔̾͑̒̾̇̍͐̔͗̀̉͋͝e̶̼̬͇̍̄̒͑͌͠t̷̨̧̙͓͉̤̩̣̃̈̒͑͂̈́ ̸̳̬̣̫͓̫̄m̶̖̮͖̺͛̆̒̋̂ę̷̛̜̳̘͈͔̗̺̜̲̰̳̞͊̃̆̾͑̆̑̏̌̒̚͜ ̵̰̈͑̀͘c̴̨̜̫̘̪̹̘̖̭͖͊͋̉͐̐̌͊͆̋̏ͅa̷͙͗͋̍͊̑̀̈́̀̀̓̈́̚t̵̡̺̭͙̭͈̘͕͈̯͎̐̍̈̇̌́c̷̡̛̛̰̹̗͖̲̟͙̝̑̈́̓́̈́̃̇͋̂̽͑̚͜͜͠ḥ̸̮̖̺̞̐̃̈́̊͐̽͛ͅ ̵̦̠͓̝̭͖̜͙̤͎̩̈̓̊͊̊̊́͘ŷ̵̖̣̫̫̱̱̭̹̺͍̑͆̚ò̵̯̩̤̰̤̭̫͍̩͂̀̉͒͆̀̒̄̇̚ų̴̖̥̙̎͋̓̿̍͒̔ ̶̛͉̉̈́̇̓̓̕l̶̨͙̝̜͍̜̦͕̦͍̖̬̈́͐̀͑̇̑̍̄i̷͓̰͖̲͔̯͌̒̊ḵ̸̤͍͝e̶̮̲̱͔̭̕ ̶̧̩̻̳̼͍̩̰͖͝ą̵̟̹̜̝̜̳̘̬̥͌ͅń̵̢̢̧̙̳̜̟̜͙͖̞͚̹̆̏̊̈́̎̚͜͜ ̶͙̯̹̯͚͎̇̐̐̽͒̒e̷̼̮̼͎̻̟̘̯̊͊̇̑̄̈̎͐̂̓̓̚͝m̶̛̫̳̈́̉̏̒̽̏̿̅̃̎̐̏̾͠b̸̜̥̭̯̲̜͙͍̺̭̣͎͚́͜r̷̡̗͙̱͖̼̹̺͉̝͍͔͗͋̆̇͒̓ͅa̶̖̿̑̿̎̿̔̏̋͠c̸̛͍̘͚̞̗̳͙͔̪̳̭̝͓̲̉͑͜e̸̦̗̯̫͓̣̥̲͔͇̋̈́̅̋̐̒.̶̙̩̖̦̭͎̳̺̹͙͍̟͌͜ ̵̧̡̠̬̹̞̣̳̼͒̔͒̀͛̉̂͌͐͌̀̕͠͝Y̵̨̢̫͈̬͇͉͈̠̝͋̋͠ǫ̸͇̰̩͂ũ̴̧͕̺͙̜̲̭̃̆̉͂̓̈́͐̽̌͆̿̕͜͝ͅ ̶͕̘̪̼͈͙̼̮̍̈́́̌̓̆̾̚͝á̶̧̫̯͎̦́̿̔̃̇̈́͒̑̃͘r̸̨̞̾͂̀̀͘̚ȩ̵͍͙͖̱̰̗̤̱̮͔̐̈̔́́̀̈̀̚͜ ̵͚̝̻̬̜͚̦̥͉̇͛̒̆͐̾͊̔̚h̷̪̱͙̭̣̩̮̞͖̖̱͑̇̕ǫ̶̳͉̥̩̯̼̱͙̤̣̅̋̉͂́̿̓͛̑̀̄̕͝͠ͅͅm̴̞̺̯̗̙͎͖͍͉͓͛͐̾̐̇͆̀͌̓̍̍́̚ȩ̷͖̘͚͓͔̌̈̿͆̑̌̉̔́̍̀̓̾̕.̷̗̼̗̦̹͓̆̓͒͆̂͠ ̷̨͆͝Y̸̹͉͍̖͉̤̻̮̫͆̊͆͛̉̓̽̀͒̆͊̇̕̕ô̶̡̡̥̤̝̺̪̭͇̜̫̥̦̲̯̈́̉̕ų̵͉̖͕̯͔̇͑̀͛̂̓̓̍͝ͅ ̷̲͖̱̭͈̗͑̈͛̾̈́̉̃̂͝͠a̷̛̦̰͇̮̣͂̎́̈̕͝͝r̸̻̥̉́̂̈͒̏͆͆̏̋͂͐̕͝ë̷̢̛̫͉̯̩̠̣͈͙̬͖̜́̐͒͌̒͐͛̚ ̶̧̧̘̪̖͇̼͕̙̼̯̻̓̽p̷̢̢̫̰̻̼̞̕é̷̘͔̮͎̞͉̘̮͈̳̮̯͖̜̋̾̇̏̄̇̈́͋̌̾ŕ̸̢̺̟̤̳̲̜͕̞̰̜̀́͆͐̓͊̽̾̒͋͐f̶̩̭̬̽e̷̗̻̠̍͐͛̾͌̊͒́̿͌͊͐̉̚c̵̞̠͉̉̈́͊́͝͠t̵̡͔͓̠̣̹̦̝̜̫̮̮͆́̿̐̈́̾̒̑̚͜͝͝.̷̨̡̛̪̗͙̦̥͔͐̑̅͛͐̿̽̔̄́̓̒̚ͅ

#neverendingdreams #straykidsland #han jisung smut #han jisung x reader #han jisung x you #thank you so much to everyone for reading and enjoying this series it's meant the world to me 💗

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