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hotchswifey · 8 months

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a little bit shy - rafael barba x reader smut

i wrote this like a year ago and never posted it???????? oml i kept thinking it was unfinished but like it’s 2700 words 😭 😭 😭 😭

anyways i’m not rewriting it or even rereading it so!!! anyways, this is shitty but it’s mine so it’s fine

warnings: shy!reader, smut, vaginal fingering, reader is a virgin (par hand stuff she’s done with rafael), reader owns a bookstore/cafe, written with an age gap in mind (rafael is like ?? 40?? 45??? reader is like 23/24), rafael is a babe and i love him, your honour, also rafael is a brief man and nobody can convince me otherwise, also like the office spoilers ig??? but nothing major, daddy/papi kink, the reader may have a slight humiliation kink (it’s self-projection babes), also the translation is through google so sorry if it is incorrect!

(word count: 2740)

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You sat on the counter of your café, reading one of Stephen King’s books. You had closed up at 19:00 like you did every day (par Sundays where you closed up at 17:00); however, you had stayed behind in your store, deciding that you would leave when the rain cleared up - which, it hadn’t. You looked at the grandfather clock standing up against the wall - quarter past nine. The time had flown by as you were too engrossed in your book to notice the world outside and join the world written on the pages. You sighed as you jumped off the counter, folding the corner of (what was now) your personal copy of Doctor Sleep, realising that the weather would not get better anytime soon. Grabbing your hoodie (while cursing your past self for not bringing a coat to work), you turned off the lights, ensuring the ovens and such were also turned off. You grabbed your keys, preparing for the harsh weather, before stepping outside (albeit reluctantly). The rain hit your face harshly, the wind almost making breathing impossible, as you made your way quickly (or as quick as the wind would let your body move) down the sidewalk. You should have probably just called an Uber as you got to the corner of the street. But, then again, you had money to return to the shop. You halted on the corner, debating it but rejecting the idea. You were already soaking from being outside for a few minutes, so what were another... 20... to your apartment. It took you about ten seconds to go to Rafael’s apartment. You had only been dating for a couple months, but his place was, at most, ten minutes away from your shop, and you were freezing. You rushed down the sidewalk until you got to his building, standing underneath a roof; you quickly texted him with trembling fingers, asking if he could let you in, figuring he wouldn’t hear your voice on the intercom system due to the wind. The door buzzed open within seconds, which you were highly thankful for, and you made your way to the elevator, which you took to the top floor. Rafael answered the door after you knocked, still in his suit (confirming your suspicion that he had not stopped working even now; you were pretty surprised he was even home, as he was usually spending all his free time in his office). His eyes went wide immediately, taking in your wet form. “Hermosa, wha-” he cut himself off (something you didn’t know he was even capable of doing) as he opened the door wider for you to come in. “You’re soaking,” he said as he reached for the zipper of your hoodie. “Really? I hadn’t noticed,” you quipped back as you slapped his hands away, grabbing the zipper to try to pull it down, but you couldn’t quite do it with your trembling hands (which were a dangerously dark red). Rafael grabbed it again, slapping your hands away this time, pulling the zipper down and peeling the fabric off your skin as it stuck to you. “What were you thinking?” he looked down at you sternly, causing you to roll your eyes. “Calm down, I’m fine-” “You’re going to get ill,” he interrupted, taking your phone from you and placing it on the coffee table face down (which seemed to be his way of telling you I’m taking this because you are almost vibrating from how cold you are, not because I’m going to look through your phone, Hermosa). “you need a shower.” “I’m fine!” you argued, and Rafael looked at you with a deadpan look. You stared at each other for about ten seconds before you gave in, mumbling quickly, “Fine.” He walked you towards the bathroom as if you didn’t know where it was and opened the door for you. A quick “thank you” later, and you were peeling off the rest of your clothes before figuring out how to turn on the shower. After about a minute (which felt like an eternity, considering you were feeling hypothermic), you grabbed a towel before heading back out to find Rafael putting your hoodie in a washing basket. “Rafael?” he turned around at that, his eyebrows furrowing - he was cute when he was overly concerned. You suddenly became aware that you were naked and blushed heavily, “How- how do you, um, turn the... shower on?” Once he showed you and left the room, you basked in the water, feeling your previously numb fingers returning to life. You were highly aware of how long you were in the shower, not wanting to waste water or heat or anything. As well as the fact that you couldn’t stop thinking about how you were only one wall away from Rafael - totally naked. You took his (very expensive looking) shampoo and soap, cleaning yourself and your hair, before turning off the shower and leaving. Only then did you realise that you had no clothes - unless you would put on cold, wet ones. You wrapped the same towel around yourself before sheepishly entering the bathroom. Rafael smiled at you from his seat on his couch, his work abandoned on the dining table, his suit jacket on the back of one of the chairs and his tie looser than when he had answered the door, and a glass of scotch in one hand and the tv playing Netflix. “I don’t- um, I- I don’t have any... clothes,” you stuttered, looking down at your feet and fiddling with the towel. “You can borrow one of my shirts,” he said, as if it was the most casual thing ever, like you two always did this. he got up, pausing (in what looked like) the office (which you had convinced him to watch after it came to your knowledge that he had never watched it), and began to pull out a shirt from his drawer in his bedroom, handing it to you, which you thanked him for, still blushing from your current predicament. He went to leave before you spoke again. “I- I don’t have any-” you stopped talking, blushing too much before you could say ‘panties’. “You don’t mind wearing mine, would you? Because, you see, I don’t have any panties,” You blushed at his bluntness but shook your head to say, “No, I don’t mind. When, in actuality, you did mind, but only because the thought made you feel hot. Like everything else had once you had made your way into his apartment. You were naked. And, now, you were going to wear Rafael’s clothes. He left for you to get dressed; you shut the door, making sure it was locked, before you dropped the towel, pulling on his briefs and shirt. His shirt was white, and as you looked in the mirror, you realised that, yes, he could definitely see your nipples through the shirt. You buttoned three buttons before turning around and checking how much of your ass it covered. Thankfully, it fell to your mid-thigh, and even more, it smelt like him. You exited the bedroom, turning to close the door behind you softly to not disturb Rafael’s Netflix. What you didn’t see, with your back turned, was Rafael staring at you (specifically, your ass) and licking his lips. As you turned back around, you saw him sit forward and place his free hand (the one without scotch in it) on his knee - unbeknownst to you, he was trying to hide his growing member. You smiled at him, which he returned, and joined him on the couch, sitting about a foot away. You were right when you thought he was watching the office. He was currently watching Jim fax Dwight messages from future Dwight. You brought your legs up to your chest, sitting back on the couch. I watched as Jan told Michael that the branch was closing. “Would you like a drink, cariño?” he asked, making his way (very quickly, you noticed) behind the couch, as you watched the TV. You looked up at him, smiling, asking him for some coffee. He kissed you on the forehead, causing you to giggle, and then started on your coffee. But you swore as he turned around that he was... hard? Your eyes widened, and your cheeks grew hot as your head flew forward to stare at the TV. A smile grew on your face, and you tried to hide it multiple times, but you just couldn’t; it was... cute. Rafael was unbelievably cute right now - plus, his ears were pink, which made him look... well, adorable. You made sure he couldn’t see your face as you smiled widely, but you realised you were failing when he said; “What’s happening?” “What?” you turned to him, still smiling. “In Scranton,” he said, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world, which it was, but you weren’t focused on the TV. You were focused on what was going on behind the kitchen counter he was standing behind. “Oh, right, there,” you said, although you were sure you sounded teasing, which you must have because Rafael’s eyebrows furrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean, ángel?” he asked, coming back to join you on the couch, handing you the coffee. He sat closer to you than you had previously sat next to him, not that you minded - you wanted to sit on his lap, not next to him, but you’d settle for this. “Nothing,” you smirked as you glanced at him - his trousers were still tight. Your eyes went wide momentarily, but it was enough for Rafael to notice. “What?” “What?” you sipped your coffee, covering your smile as you looked at him. he narrowed his eyes at you before putting his arm around you, bringing you into his chest. He put the coffee on the table for you, looking down at you as you turned your head completely to look him in the eye. “You’re hiding something.” “Am I, counsellor?” You moved your legs over him, and he pulled you onto his lap, causing you to yelp and him to chuckle, burying his face in your neck, nipping and kissing at your skin. Your cheeks began to burn again as your smile and teasing attitude disappeared, replaced with whimpers and gripping onto the hem of your (or, rather, his) shirt. You did notice, however, that you weren’t exactly on his lap but on his legs. Which meant he thought you hadn’t noticed his... situation. “What are you hiding, cariño?” he began to kiss further down, kissing at your collarbone. You reached down to palm at his slacks, the office still playing in the background. You heard his breath hitch, and his head flew up to look you in the eye. “What are you hiding, counsellor?” you grinned at him, blinking through your lashes. His ears burned, as well as his cheeks, and he looked pretty shocked, too. However, he quickly recovered. He smirked at you, gripping your wrist, causing you to pout. His lips found yours, and you whimpered into his mouth, causing him to smirk again. “I’m not hiding a thing, cariño,” he said against your mouth, moving your hand back down to his bulge. He hummed against your mouth as you squeezed him lightly. His hand gripped your thigh, the other resting on your cheek as he deepened the kiss. You whined into his lips, putting your hand, not playing with his bulge, on top of the one on your thigh. “Please, Rafael,” you whimpered. His hand on your thigh began to creep up your leg, coming up to the waistband of your briefs before slipping inside. That was new. Sure, you had done things with Raf before, but he was always very... slow. He just wanted to ensure you were completely comfortable with what was happening, but now? Seeing you in his shirt? His fingers teased your entrance momentarily before he gathered your slick and began rubbing at your clit with steady circles. Your hand immediately gripped his wrist, your fingers not even managing to close around his arm. Your back arched, your tits pressed against him, and pathetic whines fell from your lips. His lips were attacking your neck and collarbone, marking you. “Oh, god,” you whimpered out, his fingers beginning to speed up, his other arm wrapped around your waist to keep you against him. Your fingers, the ones not around his arm, gripped his waistcoat. His rubbing sent impulses up and down your body, your vocal cords working on their own accord and your limbs twitching. “Please, oh, god,” his fingers and mouth were the only things you could focus on, and the rest of the world fell away. You were becoming incoherent with your words, that much you were aware of, as you mumbled out, ‘please’s and ‘fuck’s. You were pretty amazed you had stayed coherent for that long, considering that you were usually a mumbling mess of a woman who couldn’t make eye contact or stop blushing when he touched any part of your skin. You brought his face up from your neck, wanting to kiss his scotch-flavoured lips. The passionate kiss did not stop you from whimpering against him or prevent you from moving his hand away from your clit and towards your entrance. "estás tan necesitado, ¿no es así, cariño?" his tone was teasing, though you had no idea what he was saying. You moaned as his fingers edged around your entrance, and you dropped your head into his neck to hide the growing blush, your eyes fluttering shut. Your hips bucked as best they could in the position you were in. You whined when he took his fingers away from you; however, after he had moved you onto his lap (and, therefore, on top of his hard-on), his fingers continued their previous actions. He sunk one finger into your heat, causing your hold on his vest to tighten and your other to clench as you lifted it, trying to decide what to do. Your legs fell wider as Rafael curled his fingers into your sweet spot (and, of course, he knew exactly where that was, despite only having done this a couple of times). “Please, Rafael,” your voice was heavily muffled by the fact that you were pressing your face against his neck. Still, he must have heard you because he added another finger into you, rubbing against your sweet spot with two fingers whilst his palm ground against your clit. “please, papi,” you mumbled out, causing Rafael to stutter in his pleasing ministrations and his cock to twitch. You immediately seized up, your eyes flying open against his neck. However, Rafael’s fingers continued without hesitation, his other hand moving to your ass and squeezing it, pulling you more towards him. He hummed against the side of your head. “Papi, cariño?” your cheeks flushed, the embarrassment of the situation catching up on you. Your hold on his vest tightened, and you were sure you were seconds away from tearing it. You whimpered against his skin, the humiliation only contributing to your impending orgasm. Rafael smirked down at you, loving how you looked, squirming and whimpering on his lap. he loved that you were shy. You were adorable when you were blushing and stumbling over your words whilst you looked everywhere but him. When you called him Papa? he almost groaned aloud. He could feel you pulsing around his fingers, your legs spasming and back arching. Taking his hand away from your ass (and slightly lifting one of his legs to not make you fall), he unbuttoned your shirt, kneading one of your breasts. Your whimpers turned into moans, gradually increasing in volume and frequency. “That’s it, Hermosa, cum on papi’s fingers."

#rafael barba x reader #rafael barba #law and order svu #svu #rafael barba smut

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prettyboyeddiemunson · 1 month

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catholic!reader making eddie go to church after losing a bet hahahahaha

LMAO CAN YOU IMAGINE (also i got off tangent a little IM SORRY)

eddie would get up to all kinds of shenanigans during mass. he would pretend to convulse every time he looks at a cross, would pretend to be burnt when he reached into the holy water, would make some kind of comment about Jesus being ripped, and would probably fall asleep at one point before waking up to eucharist and “free food and wine.” the wine would be the highlight of his whole churchgoing experience

and don’t get me started about what he would do to her dad. he would be messing with him through the entire service and would make some comment about catholic reader. probably something along the lines of, “your daughter is more eager to get on her knees for me than she is for god,” or “there’s a lot of kneeling involved here, no wonder she can stay on her knees so long,” or one of his personal favorites: “your daughter worships my cock better than she worships god, sir.”

needless to say, eddie is not asked back to church. she would be so annoyed with him and would want him to apologize, but eddie would see nothing wrong with what he did.

“am I really wrong?” he asks.

“yes!” she says. “you know how much i love god.”

“but you also love my dick,” he says, taking her by the waist and drawing her in closer. “you know what i wanna do?”

“what?” she asks, dreading his answer.

“I wanna bend you over that altar and fuck that pretty pussy until it’s dripping,” he says, snapping her underwear against her hip.

“eddie!” she says, eyes wide. “that’s really blasphemous!”

“so?” he asks. “maybe it’ll make me wanna go back to church.”

“my dad would never allow it,” she says. “he says you’re not welcome anymore.”

“your dad just hates me,” he says, wiggling his brows. “please? just this once.”

she considers it. “fine. but i’m gonna have to confess all this to my priest.”

“ill do that for you, too,” he says. “we can go in the confession booth and play that game.”

“you’re gonna get me in so much trouble,” she says with a sigh.

“it’ll be worth it, baby,” he says. “and we can make another bet.”

“oh?”

“yep. if you like it, ill come to church with you and i’ll behave myself from now on. if you don’t like it, you can confess it all to the priest and I’ll never come back to church ever again.”

“hm…okay. but if i like it, you have to come to church every sunday and you have to wear nice clothes.”

“deal. let’s go.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson blurb

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goldenempyrean · 1 year

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Interstellar Sniffles

〚 Notes - Hi, I finally got round to writing something suffient. Hopefully this is enough :) There's a definitely a chance for a pt2 if that's something you'd like, just lmk! 〛

〚 Pairing - WandaNat x Reader 〛

〚 Summary - Nat get's sick with an Asgardian illness so it falls on you and Wanda to take care of her. Even if it means catching her germs. 〛

〚 Wordcount - 3500 〛

〘 Check Out My Masterlist! 〙

〘 Part 2 〙

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Asgardian-Muticulated-Rhinovirus

Nothing more than a minor inconvenience for most Asgardians. Light sniffles, minor headache? Well, that was nothing to the Thunder God from space but for humans? Regular humans with regular Earth immune systems. Maybe it was a little bit more complicated than that.

It was a pretty normal Sunday when the God had landed back at the compound early that afternoon - he’d just come back from tending to some urgent out-of-worldly business and had decided to swing by to pay a visit to his fellow Avengers. Everybody was glad to see him and the whole team spent the rest of the day chatting and catching up. However, unbeknownst to the rest of the team, souvenirs and stories weren’t the only thing that Thor had brought back with him.

As the night drew on everyone had retired into one of the entertainment rooms to stick on a movie and get comfortable. You found yourself sitting in between your two girlfriends, Wanda at your left casually playing Flappy Bird on her phone not really paying attention to the ongoing film while Nat was curled up on your right, her head resting against your shoulder.

After about an hour, you couldn’t help but notice Nat becoming unsettled as she tried to stop herself from yawning widely. This continued for a few minutes before her final attempt of stifling her yawn failed and she gave in to it and stirred against you as she mumbled, “I think I’m gonna head to bed.”

“You okay baby?” Wanda asked, overhearing her groggy mumble.

“I'm fine, just tired.” The redhead dismissed her worry with a small smile before offering her hands out to both of you, “You two coming?”

Now that she mentioned it, it was getting late and going to bed was probably a sensible idea. So, the three of you said your goodbyes and headed off in the direction of your bedroom.

Out of view of the guys, Nat let herself relax a little and it became obvious that she was beyond tired. Her movements felt stiff, and her eyes seemed to be closing on their own accord. Slipping an arm around her waist, Wanda led her into the bedroom and sat her down at the end on the bed.

“PJs?” You offered, after receiving two nods you went to find some whilst your two other girlfriends washed up for bed. By the time they came back out you’d laid out two sets and were already half-changed into your own. 

Whilst the two were changing, you washed up yourself and came back into the bedroom to find Nat already snuggled down in the centre of your king-size bed, blanket wrapped snugly around her leaving only her red tied back hair in view.

“She settled down fast.” You noted as you grabbed your pyjama shirt from the edge of the bed.

Wanda nodded as she came over to throw her arms over your shoulder’s, softly tugging on the black straps of your exposed bra, “She’s just tired. Maybe we can sleep in a little tomorrow.”

“Yeah, I’ll turn my alarm off then.” You agreed but something was still playing on your mind, “Do you not think it's a little odd though?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, she seemed lively and then in the space of a few hours she was exhausted.” You pursed your lips a little as Wanda squeezed your shoulder in comfort.

“Yeah, but you’re forgetting how draining all the guys can be once we’re all together.” Wanda offered in response before kissing your exposed collarbone, “Plus it’s not just her, we’re both tired too, don’t deny it. I can see it in your eyes.”

“I guess you’re right.” You admitted and turned your head to the side to kiss Wanda’s lips before she released you from her hold, “I still find it odd though.”

You looked over to give Wanda a final unsure glance to which she only shrugged her shoulders a little before climbing in bed beside the redhead. With nothing more to say, you finished changing into your pyjamas before quickly climbing into bed yourself, snuggling down into the thick covers. To your surprise, Nat already seemed to be asleep, her head settled comfortably against Wanda’s shoulder.

“She’s adorable when she’s sleepy.” Wanda whispered quietly as she carefully leaned over to kiss your cheek, “Goodnight darling.”

“Goodnight sweetie.”

〘✧✧✧〙

When you woke up the next morning you instantly knew something was up. Someone was snoring.

Now this may seem completely normal at first, but the thing was that neither Wanda nor Nat snored. Ever. Not once in the three years you’d been sharing a bed had you woken up to snoring. Wait no, maybe except for that one time Wanda had the flu for a week and was so congested her snores were more akin to the sound of a jet plane then natural human noises.

Listening closely, you quickly realised that the sounds were coming from the girl cuddled closely beside you.

As you shifted a little to get a better look at Nat, you noticed that her face was flushed, and her breathing was slightly laboured. Her body was radiating heat and she seemed to be tossing and turning uncomfortably.

Immediately, you knew that something was wrong. You gently shook her shoulder, trying to wake her up. "Nat, Nat, wake up," you whispered softly, but she didn't stir. You shook her again, a little harder this time. "Natasha, wake up," you repeated, more urgently.

Finally, she stirred, her eyes opening slowly. As she looked up at you, you could see the exhaustion and discomfort etched on her face. "What's wrong?" she asked hoarsely, her voice barely above a whisper as she buried her face into you.

“You were tossing and turning a lot baby,” You explained, “and you were snoring pretty loudly which is unlike you.”

Natasha nodded weakly, still looking dazed and unwell. "I feel really hot," she murmured, pressing her hand to her forehead.

You instinctively reached out to touch her forehead as well, and your fears were confirmed. Her skin was burning hot to the touch. "You do feel really warm baby, I’m pretty sure you’re running a temperature,” you sighed, your voice laced with concern.

You felt a pang of worry in your chest. It sounded like she might be coming down with something, and you couldn't help but feel guilty for not noticing the signs the night before.

Wanda stirred beside you, her eyes opening slowly. "Is everything okay?" She asked, her voice laced with concern.

"Nat's not feeling well," You explained, your voice soft.

Wanda's expression softened as she looked at Nat. "Oh, baby," she whispered, reaching out to stroke her hair gently, “This is why you were so tired, hm?”

Her response was only a small nod followed by a thick set of rattling coughs which left her red and breathless. You and Wanda each exchanged worried glances as the latter rubbed began to her back whilst you stood up to go get her some water.

Luckily in the few moments it took to get her the drink, her chest had seemed to calm down a little and Nat was now sitting up as Wanda continued to rub comforting circles along her back.

“Drink this for me baby?” You asked, offering out the glass of water to which she accepted readily.

Once she’d drank half, Nat leaned back against the pillows, her eyes closing as she swallowed the rest of the water down, "God, sorry," she whispered, sounding embarrassed.

"It's not your fault," Wanda said calmly, love seeping into her tone as she took her hand, squeezing it gently, “Maybe you can try and sleep for a little bit longer though? It’s still pretty early.”

Natasha nodded weakly, too tired to argue. She closed her eyes and tried to get comfortable, but her body felt achy and sore all over. The coughing fit had left her feeling drained, and she didn't have the energy to do anything but lie there. Both you and Wanda exchanged more worried looks before you both settled back into the bed beside her, doing your best to offer her comfort as she tried to drift off to sleep.

She managed to sleep for another couple of hours or so but truthfully it didn’t seem to help much. It seemed in her sleep; everything had shifted to her head because when Nat woke up, she was unable to keep herself from sniffling.

She groaned softly and tried to sit up, but her body protested, and she fell back onto the pillows with a sigh. It was clear that she was in no state to do anything.

Wanda, who had been dozing off beside her, slowly woke up at the sound of her sniffles. "Hey, how are you feeling?" she asked softly, reaching out to touch Nat's forehead to check for a fever only to be met with blazing hot, sweaty skin causing her face to frown with worry.

She softly moved some of the damp crimson curls out of Nat’s fever flushed face, “Wake Y/N up, okay?” She nodded towards to your sleeping form, “I’m gonna get you something for this fever. You’re really burning up baby.”

Wanda quickly got out of bed and headed towards the bathroom to grab some cold towels and a fever reducer. As she left, you stirred awake, feeling the movement in the bed beside you.

"Hey, sweetheart, how are you feeling?" You asked groggily, rubbing your eyes to clear your vision as you woke up.

Natasha sniffled again and shook her head as she shuffled closer to you. “Not good," she croaked out, her voice sounding scratchy and hoarse. "Wanda's getting me something for the fever."

You frowned with concern and sat up, looking at her closely. Her skin was hot to the touch, and her eyes were glassy and unfocused.

"It’ll be okay baby," you reassured her, pulling her into a gentle hug. "Just rest and let Wanda help you."

You sat with her in silence, holding her close as Wanda returned with a bottle of Tylenol and a damp washcloth which she handed to you to dab gently along the side of her crimson cheek before wiping away the droplets of sweat that had collected along her brow.

Natasha winced as you touched the washcloth to her skin, her body clearly sensitive to even the slightest touch. You murmured soothing words as you continued to wipe her down, trying to make her as comfortable as possible. Still, she was grateful for the coolness of the cloth against her feverish skin. She closed her eyes and let out a deep sigh, feeling the medication start to take effect.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I didn't mean to ruin our weekend, we were meant to go out for lunch, weren’t we?"

You shook your head, "You didn't ruin anything, Nat. We'll just take care of you and make sure you feel better."

Wanda sat on the other side of the bed, watching over the two of you with a soft smile. "I'm here too, you know," she teased, reaching over to ruffle your hair playfully, “How about we go settle on the sofa and watch some cringy Netflix movies?”

You couldn't help but laugh as Wanda suggested watching cringy Netflix movies, knowing it was the perfect distraction for Natasha. However, your laughter was cut short as she suddenly sneezed, her head not having the time to move back from its position on your chest.

“"H'htschoo!”

"Sorry!" Natasha apologised, clearly embarrassed by her sudden outburst, sniffling frantically as she gratefully accepted the tissues Wanda had offered out for her.

You tried to hide your grimace as you looked down at the wet mark she’d left behind on your shirt, “Thanks for that.” You forced yourself to joke as you pulled off the contaminated shirt.

Wanda gave you a sympathetic smile before turning to Natasha, who was looking truly mortified. "Don't worry about it," she said, patting Natasha's hand reassuringly. "We'll just make sure to keep some tissues on hand."

You wrapped a warm blanket around Natasha's shivering form, and let Wanda guide her out the living room whilst you went over to your drawers to pick out a new shirt. By the time you’d joined them on the sofa, Nat and Wanda were already cuddled beneath a thick blanket snuggled together close for comfort. They had left a spot for you, and you sank into it whilst Wanda picked out a terrible movie for all of you to mock.

But as the day wore on, Natasha's condition worsened. Her cough became more persistent, and her nose became increasingly congested all while sending her into throat wrenching, messy fits of sneezes every few minutes. Mounds of crumpled tissues littered the area and by the evening, her throat was so sore the poor girl was barely able to speak.

Finally, the two of you made the decision that it was time to see Bruce. Just to be on the safe side.

“Wanda, can you go up and grab one of her hoodies? A warm one preferably.” You asked as you sent a quick text to Bruce to let him know you were coming down to his lab.

Wanda nodded and quickly made her way upstairs to grab one of Natasha's hoodies. You helped Natasha put it on, being careful not to jostle her too much as she leaned on you for support.

Once she’d returned, you watched as she helped Nat into the soft hoodie before making your way out of the living room and down the halls. Somewhere along the way, the three of you ran into Clint, Thor, Tony and Cap who’d clearly just finished their joint training session together.

“Jeez, what happened to Romanoff.” Clint was first to ask the obvious question.

You went to answer but Nat’s loud set of sneezes seemed to speak for themselves, and you held her closer, “We’re just taking her to get looked at by Bruce.” You explained and the guys offered to come with, clearly worried for the state of their friend.

You all made your way down to the lab where Bruce was waiting for you. He greeted you with a sympathetic smile, having seen many of the Avengers in various states of illness and injury over the years.

"Hey, Natasha. What's going on?" he asked, pulling out his stethoscope and beginning his examination.

Natasha explained her symptoms between sneezes and coughs, and Bruce listened carefully, nodding along as she spoke.

"It sounds like you have a pretty bad cold, Natasha," he said, after finishing his examination. "But I'm going to run a few tests just to be sure."

Natasha nodded weakly, looking exhausted from the effort of speaking. The guys gathered around her, offering words of comfort and support as Bruce took some blood samples and swabs.

As you waited for the results, Bruce gave Natasha some medication to ease her symptoms, and she settled down to rest on one of the lab couches, her head resting on your lap. You and Wanda both stroked her hair gently, trying to soothe her as best you could but it wasn’t long before she stirred, scrunching up her nose as she tried to get rid of the oncoming itch.

“Hheh..Hehttshoo! Hh’itschieww! Hhi-Hh-H’tsschiew!”

“Bless you love” Wanda whispered as she helped Nat to sit up so she could go and get her some tissues.

Luckily it didn’t take long for the results to come through and you couldn’t help but notice the way he was staring at them in confusion. You weren’t the only to notice, however.

Surprisingly, it was Tony who spoke up first, “Banner what’s wrong?”

Bruce looked up from the test results, frowning. "These results are strange," he said, looking at Natasha, “I’ve never seen anything like it. There’s definitely a pathogen present, that’s for sure, but it matches nothing in our databases- The fuck?-”

The room almost shared a collective gasp, nobody had heard the man swear before. Instantly you got up to go and look at the screen displaying the results along with Tony and the rest of the guys.

“According to this, the origin of the pathogen isn’t from earth. It has the structure of a cold, but mutated in different ways, it’s hard to understand. I can't get my head round these readings.” He sighed in annoyance, hating the fact he couldn’t understand it.

“How did she even catch this?” You mumbled outloud.

”I think I know...” Banner finally concluded as something in his brain seemed to click, his eyes casting towards the only man who had the means to leave the planet, “Thor?”

“No, no. Thats not possible. I haven’t been sick in years. I wouldn’t have come back if I was.” The God frowned; eyebrows furrowed with concern as Nat mumbled something intelligible into Wanda’s shoulder who was shushing her quietly.

Bruce sighed a little as he ran his hand across an electronic screen which brought up a pop up showing his anatomy as he explained, “Well that's the thing about viruses, even if you’re not sick yourself, you can still pass them on through contact with the same surfaces for example. And judging on how little we know about the viruses' effects on Earth, the rate of infection is unknown meaning...” He paused and turned to the sniffling redhead, “Everyone here should avoid going out in public for the next few days, especially you Natasha - just to be safe.”

In all honesty, you weren’t even sure that she had heard the string of sentences which had just left his mouth, but she nodded anyway.

The rest of the Avengers agreed to stay in for a few days before filtering out of the door slowly leaving the three of you and Bruce still in the room.

“So, she’s definitely, okay?” You asked again, wanting to be 100% sure.

“Y/N, she’ll be fine. The virus only appears to have heightened symptoms, its duration seems to be the same, she’ll be feeling better in a week or so I think.” The Doctor nodded, but still reached down into a cupboard to grab 2 bottles of medicine – heavy duty Dayquil and Nyquil, “This should be all she needs.”

You nodded, grateful for Bruce’s expertise and the fact that Natasha would be okay in the end. You turned to the redhead who was now being supported by Wanda as she stood.

“Come on, let’s get you back to bed sweetheart.” Wanda murmured comfortingly as you thanked Bruce again before joining the two girls.

Nat leaned heavily on Wanda and you as you made your way back to her room. She was shivering slightly, despite the meds, and you could feel the heat still radiating from her. As you helped her back to her room, it was obvious that both yourself and Wanda couldn't help but feel a sense of relief that she was going to be okay. You knew she was strong, but seeing her vulnerable like this was hard.

As you walked Natasha back to the room, you helped Wanda get her settled in bed, making sure she had everything she needed before sitting down next to her. Wanda sat on the other side, holding her hand as Natasha drifted off to sleep, exhausted from the ordeal. Whilst you sat there, watching her sleep, you couldn't help but feel a sense of protectiveness wash over you. You had seen Natasha take down some of the most dangerous foes, but seeing her vulnerable and sick like this made you realize just how much you cared for her.

As you sat there, watching over your sleeping girlfriend, you couldn't help but notice Wanda begin to sniffle intermittently. It didn’t come as much of a surprise though. Afterall she was the one who’d been in the closest proximity to Natasha for the longest and it was only a matter of time before she caught it too.

You turned to Wanda; concern etched on your face. "Are you okay baby?" you asked, already knowing the answer at heart.

Wanda nodded weakly, trying to hold back a cough. "I'll be fine," she assured you gently, "I’m just a little tired. I think worrying about little miss sniffles so much drained me a bit.” She chuckled.

“Alright baby,” You accepted her answer for now, “Well, how about we both try and sleep for a bit, it’s getting late afterall and I doubt Natty’s going to be awake for a while anyway.”

The pair of you climbed into bed, there was no need to change – you'd both been in your PJ’s all day anyway. The two of you fell into a comfortable silence once again, Wanda’s arm coming to comfortably sit over your stomach as you both listened to the sound of Nat’s snores before eventually drifting off to sleep.

〖 Join My Taglist! 〗@sayah13 @mahalkitanova @scrambled-brain-eggs @natashamyl0ve @shin-conan-kun @bloomingflowersthings @kathleenmikaelson @shamelessbearunknown @inluvwithfictionalwomen @ceiestiaie @fluffyblanketgecko @kljhsong @santana1437 @blackwidow-3 @asiangmrchk13 @lovelyy-moonlight @juiles @lots-of-pockets @sashawalker2 @natashamaximoff69

#wandanat #wandanat x you #wandanat x reader #wandanat x y/n #natasha romanoff x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #sickfic #natasha romanoff x wanda maximoff x you #natasha romanoff x wanda maximoff #marvel #mcu #natasha romanoff sickfic #wanda maximoff sickfic #sick!natasha romanoff x reader #marvel sickfic #avengers sickfic #fluff

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icypenguin · 6 months

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☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ It’s not her?

HEY GUYSSSIJHSIHSJOHS im finally uploading heehe ill upload for tomorrow and sunday too :D btw this will take place in modern au! reader is a female (sorry T-T) and i suppose its hurt/comfort so enjoyyy!

note: [f/a]: favourite animal

☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

prom was coming soon, everyone was excited ofcourse. you looked at lyney who was poking his lunch food. he looked lost in thoughts which is very odd. “hey lyney? you okay?” you tried talking to him but he didn’t budge. “lyneyyy?” you tried to call out for him again. but no response. “LYNEYYY!” he finally noticed your calling. “huh- oh” he looked at you with a straight face. “hey.. what’s wrong? you seem.. um idk, worried?” you looked at him with worried eyes. he’s never been like this before. “whaaat?! no way! ofcourse i’m not, i’m the brave and charming lyney!” he added a wink at the end. you chuckled at his response but then back to seriousness. “okay okay quit the joke, what’s wrong?” “nothing’s wrong y/n everything is fine!” he forced a smile on his face. you know you can’t really do anything else so you went with the flow.

“fine.. anyway, have you got someone in mind for prom?”. he placed a finger on his chin “mm i guess so…” a grin was added to his face. you didn’t know how to react, worried, glad, happy, sad, frustrated? “OOO who is ittt?!” you tried to act like you were excited but at the bottom of your heart, you were worried. your heart beated fast for him to say his answer. badum badum badum.. “hmmm… i can’t tell youuu! it’s a suprise ofcourse, just wait~” he winked again and now starting to eat his lunch.

you knew this was going to be his answer so you rolled your eyes and acted like you didn’t care. well, you didn’t want to look like you’re desperate for him because you think he’ll probably make fun of you anyway. well, the thought hurts you. “whatever i don’t care anyway” you tried acting cool and stuff. lyney hearing your response, it hurts him. he thought you’ll well- idk? beg for him to reveal the answer. but he’s not ready to say it anyway.

the bell rang, you both got ready to head to class again. “what do you have next?” you asked while you cleaned up your food. “bwiowogwe-“ “what?” you looked at him, his mouth was full of food. he looked like a chipmunk with nuts full in its mouth. you giggled at him, he always got his ways to make you laugh. “lyney! what do you think you’re doing?” you chuckle again. he tried to chew his food down but ofcourse it was tough so he mixed it with some water (idk if u think thats gross or what but u understand right? thats lyney).

after 3 minutes he finally swallowed all of the food in his mouth. “i have biology next” he answered like nothing happened. you chuckled again and smiled “great! we have the same class. now let’s hurry up!” you both quickly ran into the classroom because you were already late 5 minutes.

there you finally arrived and as you open the door, all eyes were on you both. “lyney, y/n, why are you both late? and together?” miss clorinde crossed her arms as she looked at you both. you looked at eachother blushing a bit. “my foot got stuck and y/n had to help me” lyney covered it up confidently. you went with the flow because is they know the truth its well- silly. “alright, if you’re both late again i’ll make you stand on one leg at the front” she declared, then she made a hand sign for you to sit on your desk.

there’s no desk side-by-side thats empty so you decided to sit next to lynette at the corner. lyney sat next to lumine at the middle. through the class, you kept looking at lyney and lumine as they both were passing notes. now, you’re sure he’s asking her out for prom.

the bell rang and you packed your bags. when you looked around, lyney was already gone. ‘oh he’s probably already with lumine’ you thought. but you noticed that he left his notebook in his desk. you searched for him and spotted him in the school garden… with lumine. he was holding a bouquet and a [f/a] plushie in his other hand. you knew he knows your favourite animal, but why give it to lumine? was he playing with you this whole time? was he just using you? the passing notes made sense then.

tears were starting to form in your eyes. you couldn’t hold it anymore and ran to your dorm. you didn’t care whoever was seeing you. your heart was broken. you went to your dorm and huddled up on your bed, letting all the tears out. you looked to the frame on your bedroom with a picture of you and lyney at a carnival together. you threw the picture on the carpet and cried silently. after some minutes lynette, your dorm mate, came in, “y/n?” she knocked on your door. “w-what?!” you continued crying. you didn’t care if lynette sees you crying, she’s been your bestfriend since you were a kid.

lynette opens the door to your room carefully and saw you huddled up on the bed. “oh y/n.. what happened?” she asked you in a worried tone. “i-i saw lyney asking lumine to prom! i mean.. what was i thinking? it’s obvious that lumine is better, smarter, prettier, sweeter, nicer, lovelier-“ “y/n.” lynette looked at you with a straight look. “lyney is waiting for you” “well- he probably wants to talk to me about lumine accepting him” you choked out a sob. “no.. no he doesn’t. please just see him okay?” she wiped the remaining tears from your face. you didn’t know what could possibly convince you to see him but a piece inside you told you to.

so you standed up, not caring if you look bad. and went to the door and as you open it, lyney is there holding the bouquet and the [f/a] plushie that he was holding infront of lumine. you were confused. “in a garden- wait y/n what’s wrong? have you been crying?” lyney got worried as he saw your puffy eyes. “what are you doing lyney? i saw you asking lumine out for prom..” tears were starting to form in your eyes again, and you hate it. they were starting to drop. “w-what y/n it’s not what it looks like. please dont cry” he tried to comfort you. “what do you like it’s not what it looks like?! you clearly asked lumine to prom and i bet she accepted you!” you were starting to cry again. “n-no wait hear me out! it was just a practice. the person i wanted to ask out to prom i-is you. i wanted to make eveyrhting perfect so i ddi a practice with lumine”. after hearing lyney, your tears stopped. “w-wait.. so you weren’t asking her out?” “no, ofcourse not, she likes that childe guy anyway- now may i do my thing?” you felt relieved to hear this.

you chuckled and nodded. “being clever as ever, sitting in a field with a bee. to the sweetest girl ever, will you go to prom with me?” he smirked at the end. you giggled at this and replied “ofcourse! ofcourse ofcourse ofcourse!” you hugged him vigorously and he gave you the bouquet and plushie. “aww you knew my fav animal!” you looked at the [f/a] plushie and the beautiful bouquet. “ofcourse, i’m a loyal one” he grinned. you blushed a bit and hugged him again. “you’re the best lyney” you gave him a supeise kiss on the cheek, now it was his turn to blush. lynette watching from afar, is delighted by the sight.

☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

thankyou sooo much for reading! im sorry if its too long hehe… ill post tomorrow and sunday as well. advices are accepted, thankyouuu!

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #lyney x reader #genshin lyney #lyney fluff #lyney x you #lyney x y/n

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thevestigeofvanillaan · 1 year

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If you are taking requests and you want to, would you be willing to reader gets dumped and best friend!Kyle is there to comfort you but it leads to much more…..

yes im taking requests! i would like to clear up that my requests are always open (unless on my navigation center it says otherwise). and that i only write for female (occasionally afab gn) readers x male characters (preferably the ones of which i have slots for on my navigation center). since this has been confusing, im just saying that now.

also thank you for the request, lovely!

he broke up with you, and that broke your effin heart.

and the first thing you could do was storm out of your now ex boyfriends house and drive over the speed limit to kyle's mom's place.. because you knew that's where he would be on sundays.

kyle is your best friend, you had no one else to go to.

tears streaming down your face you go up to his door and knock on it, trying your best to wipe away the tears and change your mood.

sheila opens the door with a big smile and pulls you into a hug, "hey baby! oh come in, come in!"

"hi sheila." you smile and wipe your damp cheeks. "is kyle home?"

she smiles as she looks down at you, "yes beautiful, he's in his room."

thanking sheila, who all your life felt like another mother to you, you walk over to kyle's room.

knocking lightly on the door he opens it, probably assuming it's someone from his family telling him to come hang out. his face softens at the look of your pretty little tear stained face.

"what happened, baby?" kyle takes your arm and pulls you into his room, closing the door behind you and bringing you to his bed. "what did he do to you now?"

you can't bear to look at kyle at the moment but you do. and you broke when you did, tears streaming down and you fall into his lap. "he broke up with me."

the worst part was that you believed he was going to be the one. and that's why you two moved in with eachother so now you have no where to live.

"what?" he's stunned, and rubs hands through your hair as you cuddle into one of his legs. "he broke up with you?"

you nod weakly into his leg. "baby, do you need anything? water or a snack or something? my mom is making dinner if you want to stay the night with me."

"can i stay with you for a while? so i can find a place to live?" you ask, sitting up to face kyle as your tears start to simmer down, you wipe your cheeks.

kyle smiles, "yeah." he kisses your forehead as he gets off the bed. "wanna come with me or stay here? i think dinner is done so i can get you a plate if you want."

"can i stay here?"

he nods and walks out of the room.

it's hot in his room, he always seemed to like it warm. you never did. you take off your shirt and find a tank top of his lying somewhere and sit back down.

soon kyle returns with two plates and brings one to you. "thank you."

there's silence for a little.

"do you know.. why?" kyle starts conversation.

you nod slowly. "no. but it's fine.. worst part is that i don't have a place to live."

"he was a douche, i hated.. hate him."

"i know." you giggle and finish your plate in silence.

"you can just put it on the floor ill get it all later. wanna lay down? watch a movie? smoke?" he smirks.

giggling and moving to get comfortable. "can i take my jeans off?" you ask, since they're uncomfortable.

kyle looks down at you and then nods. he sits beside you, rolling up and you pick a movie to watch.

the two of you smoke and talk for a couple hours and then finally decide to lay down. you cuddle into his chest and he wraps an arm around you.

one of your legs rest on top of him and you rub it up and down against him until you feel something.

"kyle? are you.. hard?" you ask almost innocently and he chuckles.

"i get like that when i'm high." he excuses and you sit up, him smirking up at you.

you move the blanket so that you could see his print in his shorts and without thinking, you bring a hand to it. maybe this was dumb.. yeah. but you just got broken up with, it's not like you're cheating. plus, it's your best friend kyle.

immediately you take your hand off because you did it impulsively to begin with but he takes your hand gently and places it back on. "it's okay." he smiles, "go ahead."

softly moving your hands to the top of his shorts you pull them down along with his boxers.

to be entirely honest, you didn't know what to do now.. i mean. wow. it was a sight for sore eyes and the things you would be doing had you done this with him before..

but you'd never done this with kyle before.

"come here." he takes you by your hips and leads you to straddle his thighs, taking both his hands and slowly rubbing them up your torso and over your breasts before slowly trailing back down. he plays with the bottom of the tank top before slowly pulling it up and over your head, revealing your bra.

kyle places his hands back on your hips and plays with the top of your panties before slowly moving them down. he strips you entirely of the little clothes you were wearing and helps you off of him, now laying below him as he kisses up and down your naked body.

"so beautiful.." kyle says between little pecks on your cheeks and he rubs your soft skin and he parts your thighs. he takes his hand to your cunt and slides it up the slit and gently rubs past your clit. "so wet too.. you're so wet baby." kyle smirks and looks at you, who's now smiling and biting your lip, moving one arm to play with your breast. "you want it?"

nodding and moving your body up so you're almost folded and your back is against his old bed frame. you moan as his fingers toy with your cunt before the head of his cock is soon pressing against your slit before sliding in with slight pain.

pain is pleasure in the moment and you moan loudly. "shh!!" he hushes you dramatically. "dude, if my mom finds out we're doing this here, she will kill me." kyle whispers with a small smile on his lips before kissing your neck and whispering into your ear sweet nothings as he slowly thrusts in and out of you.

soft moans flow from your mouth and that only makes him want you more. "god, you sound so pretty for me."

"mm.. kyle please." you grab at his neck to pull him into you as his thrusts grow faster and harder as he becomes more desperate to get off.

his deep chuckle makes you clench your walls around him. "please, what, baby?"

"please.. harder please, fuck. wanna cum."

"yeah?" kyle chuckles and you repeat him and he starts to go harder, the squeaking of the bed had to be heard by the entire house but he didn't care. he just needed you, and clearly you needed him. "you wanna cum, baby? yeah?" he babies you and you whine at him.

"please.." you beg and grind yourself into him, clenching around him again and you await permission to finish.

and with that he's groaning aloud, "fuck.. cum with me. cum with me baby, cum with me, fuckkk.."

after that all was over you went to the bathroom and just sat on the floor, thinking over everything.

kyle knocks on the door. "can i come in?"

mumbling a yes he opens the door and sees you sitting down on the carpeted floor.

"do you want me to make you a bath?" he asks, kneeling down to your level.

nodding and looking up to him, you take your arms to his shoulders and neck and pull him in to kiss you.

"please don't make this a one time thing." you ask.

"no, baby. i don't want that, for either of us. i got you now, and i won't let you go."

#vanillaan #request #kyle south park #kyle broflovski headcanons #kyle broflovski x reader #kyle broflovski

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fanficfanatic000 · 1 month

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Edward fucking munson

Eddie Munson x fem reader enemies to lovers 18+ TW no minors

Hawkins was a small town but you were always quiet and a loner you didn't really have many friends at all. You worked at the arcade and it was a decent job except for certain customers like a blonde haired basketball player to a adult slob that greased up the machines..It was a normal work day. You were on your lunch break on a normal Saturday the usual customers came and went until a shadow of a short frame came up behind you short curly hair and a lighter voice "hi um one of the games are not working can you check it out?" You were just about finished with your lunch and he seemed pretty kind compared to others you stood up "uh yeah sure just lead the way." He grinned "hi im dustin." "Im y/n glad to meet ya dustin""So do you like nerdy things?"he said walking slowly "mmm i guess yeah i am considered a nerd...." you thought he was trying to make small talk... "do you like dungeons and dragons?" "Well ive never really played but yeah it kinda interests me "He led you to the arcade machine and it wasn't processing the coins hmm there must be a wire loose or a jam but that wasn't in your skill level "sorry kid its jammed or something ill try to get it fixed tomorrow" he looked slightly disappointed You barely noticed the group of people looking at you 2 other boys younger than you and one much younger girl..all wearing the same t shirts Then you looked at dustin as he spun around to maybe his friends "guys this is y/n i think she should join hellfire" a taller much sarcastic boy says "what! But shes a random girl!!" A dark skined boy says back "but eddie said to recruit people he didnt say male gendered"The smaller girl shouts "look mike shes all we've got.. its better to show up with her than no one!" You just watching this happen not knowing what to say The sarcastic one Mike rolled his eyes "fine but if eddie says no im throwing you all under the bus!" Dustin nodded his head"So y/n hellfire is a dnd club at Hawkins high after hours every other day if you want to come play some dnd just meet me outside of Hawkins high at 4:00pm" you nodded "okay i will be there" they left after that and the rest of the night was pretty normal. Sunday passed so fast you basically cleaned your room and watched your favorite movie than fell asleep and it was Monday you got dressed in a tank top your favorite color some ripped jeans and your converse and your favorite jewelry and threw your jacket on. You put some black eyeliner on and you were ready You listened to one of your favorite bands on a cassette player and it was 3:40 so you drove to Hawkins high and you parked and saw dustin he was kinda like a little brother you stepped out of your car and "Y/N yes! You're here!" "Just on time " you look down at your watch and see it change to 4:00 "okay lets go" you followed dustin through the school halls you remembered see you went to public school until freshman year and you got bullied so bad you had to do homeschooling instead you were graduated now though. You watch the door open to reveal a dimly lit room full of people. Mike. Dustin. Lukas. Erica. And 4 others you walk in and dustin moves out from infront of you "eddie this is y/n."A tall handsome intimidating man stands up from a throne of some kind he stepped around the table and stands infront of you his frame slightly towering over you" this is who you found Henderson " he pinched his nose bridge "this girl is what you found she probably wouldn't know anything about dnd or anything!" You felt attacked but little did they know is that you can snap back " this girl probably would probably win anyways" you said with a smirk he stepped closer smugly bending slightly "you think so Princess?" His eyes meeting yours and they felt familiar for whatever reason. "Okay lets play!"

#fandom #eddie munson #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie munson lives #eddie munson x reader #eddie stranger things #stranger things 4 #fanfic #eddie #enemies to lovers #Em enemies to lovers #Edward fucking munson

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oogaboogasphincter · 6 months

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Deceits of the Devil (priest!marcus pike x f!reader) | chapter one: the high priestess

series summary: when you find love in a priest, a litany of spooky events begin to follow you that can only be described as a haunting. is it your own guilty conscience that disturbs you... or could it be something else?

chapter summary: you're visiting your best friend in her new town for the first time when you are begrudgingly thrust into her devout way of life. however, something - or someone - makes you rethink your plans of avoiding the church at all costs.

word count/series~chapter-specific warnings: 6.4k+ words // MATURE (18+ ONLY) MDNI!: reader uses she/her pronouns and is incredibly non-religious, SLOW BURN TABOO RELATIONSHIP BABYYY, lots of religious/spiritual talk, horror elements and general spookiness ~ lots of character introductions so pls bear with me, mention of the death of a loved one and some light grief, food and eating mentions, sudden illness, potentially cringe banter, take a shot for every time i wrote 'father pike' in this (trust me we learn his first name soon enough but for now it's all formalities between him and reader), is this whole thing blasphemous? probably

a/n: sooo this is something very different from what i normally write, but i'm so excited to be trying something new! :) i'm not too sure where i want to take this story yet, so i don't have a total number of chapters or an ending planned (i really don't even have much of the plot figured out LMAO) but i'd really really appreciate any and all feedback from my readers! ♥️ let me know what you liked and what you want to see more of in future chapters!

“So I won’t burst into flames when I walk through the doors?”

You ask your best friend, Lucy, sending her into a fit of laughter. She clutches your hand tighter in hers, squeezing it with pompous affection. Despite your best efforts to maintain your feelings of impartialness towards the church, your palm slips against hers with a sheen of clamminess as you travel closer to the hulking cathedral.

“No!” She laughs, that breathless laugh you’ve always found comfort in. “You’re holier than most of the people who go every Sunday.”

You scoff and give her some side-eye, something that just makes her shake her head even more. Whether or not this is how you wanted to spend your first day in Carmeltree visiting her, you are going to this harvest dinner.

She sighs contentiously, contrasting the playful smirk on her face, “Trust me, you’ll be fine. Now come on, we’re gonna be late!”

——

Lucy has been your best friend since kindergarten. The maple leaves that swirl around you both in the crisp autumn air as you run through the streets now invoke a fierce sense of nostalgia, one that’s almost painful. One of your first memories together is making leaf rubbings in class with the fallen leaves that blanketed the frosted school grounds. She liked warm colors and you liked cool colors; she liked maple leaves and you liked birch leaves. Two complete halves made an even brighter whole when you came together, and the rest is history.

Despite the big city you grew up in, somehow you always managed to be in the same classes, share the same hobbies. But your luck had to run out sometime; when you both graduated, you got accepted into universities on opposite sides of the country. You kept up your communication, talking to each other every day and spilling your guts about everything, from the monumental to the regrettable, the joyous to the devastating.

You thought something was amiss when she called you in the middle of the night a few months back. At first you brushed it off, thinking maybe she fell asleep with her phone in her hand and dialed you by accident, something you’ve both done plenty of times over the course of your friendship. When she called you back as soon as you didn’t answer, you knew there was something wrong. That’s when you learned her mom had passed away.

It wasn’t sudden, but that didn’t spare her any devastation. You were there for her all day, every day. Consoling her when she wept, relishing in the happy memories that brought a rare but vital smile to her voice, sympathizing with her grief. But without a physical shoulder to lean on, Lucy went looking for more support to help her.

Her mom was a devout Christian and, by proxy, so was Lucy. She isn’t as rigid in her faith as her mom was, but she always viewed it as a guiding light to betterment, a sturdy foundation to catch her when she crumbled. Luckily, the whirlwind of life events in the past six months that displaced her from her college friends to the small town of Carmeltree was gracious enough to gift her a tight-knit, painfully orthodox population.

On the contrary, you grew up in a household without any influence of organized religion. Your family celebrated Christmas and Easter, but it was mostly for all of the gifts and chocolate.

Religious differences never caused any turmoil between you and your best friend, because you love each other for who you are, regardless if you share spiritual beliefs. If praying and attending sermons helps Lucy to process her grief and gives her something that uplifts her soul, what kind of a friend would you be to forbid her from that?

——

That doesn’t make you any more enthused about being dragged to the dinner held at the church to celebrate the autumn harvest. Lucy dropped the plan on you the second she picked you up from the major airport, whose segregating miles seem to swell with every second that passes. Knowing you would come up with an alternative plan you’d both like better, she didn’t give you a chance to back out, and you didn’t fight. Committed to being a good friend, and with a curiosity pricking your heart, you run alongside her through residual puddles as the street clocks chime eight times.

And let’s get one thing straight - “church” was a dishonorable term for the structure you’re going to. For hundreds of years, since the first round of colonizing settlers that invaded this square patch of disparate land, the citizens have been addicted to worship. They would lend their last cent to their religion, egregiously ignoring their growling stomachs and dilapidated houses for the sake of a prosperous God. The result of this frenzied generosity is the biggest cathedral you’ve ever seen.

You’re still a few blocks away, but the spires reach over the trees and spear up at the moon; whose craters can be seen with miraculous clarity on this autumn night. As you move closer and closer, the details in this spectacular of gothic architecture reveal themselves. There are a litany of pinnacles that stand like soldiers guarding their fortress and clerestory windows that dance and swish with light coming from inside the maw of the beast. When your eyes drift to angular beams that aid the structure - flying buttresses, if you remember correctly - your marvel is suddenly absent.

“No gargoyles?” you ask.

Lucy matches your disappointment with a shake of her head, “They come too close to the pagan border.” It’s unmistakable the way she lowers her voice, though there’s only a handful of patrons a hundred feet away from you.

Against the cloudless, darkening sky and a comically-eerie full moon, anyone would be dosed with at least a few drops of intimidation by the staggering black outlines. You fail to find any ease once you come to one of three entrances. The carvings of ancient tales you don’t know loom over your head in the angular tympanum and greet you with uncertainty. Are they supposed to make you feel welcomed or warned?

The gigantic doors are swung and held open by their own weight, giving way to the narthex. There’s a singing choir hidden deeper within and their melodies echo all around you. A large chandelier emits a soft orange glow, which is peculiarly swallowed up instead of reflected by the intricate, gilded etchings that coat the walls. Maroon velvet beneath your feet turns into a dark abyss of shadows from the unprecedented amount of people in here. You cling to Lucy’s coat with both your hands, somewhat subconsciously, and she laughs before taking your hand in hers and parting though the sea.

You’ll admit it, you can be very shy when you’re overwhelmed. Though for some inexplicable reason, crowds usually didn’t give you a fuss. You actually found a sense of comfort in being lost in the blur, blending in as just another body amongst hundreds, sometimes thousands of others. But you didn’t like this crowd, didn’t know these people, and not in a stranger-danger kind of way; you’ve unknowingly crossed the line of some Christians in the past and have dealt with their fiery ravings. From knowing Lucy all these years, you seem to have an understanding of their way of life, but then you slip up - use His name in vain, talk about a crush you have no plans to marry a little too fondly. You’ll be chewing on your third forkful and look up at the table, meeting ghastly stares and wanting to smack yourself in the face for completely forgetting grace.

Lucy never scorned you about forgetting or misunderstanding the rules. She knew that you didn’t mean any malice, you just simply… thought it was all a little silly sometimes. Between lighthearted Lucys and tyrannical Karens, it felt like walking on a minefield. So, you guess, you do know these people; it’s their unpredictability that worries you.

The claustrophobia wanes as you enter the nave. The ceiling spreads out, breathes, and is lined with stained glass windows that bend the moonlight into faint rainbows. Some of the outermost pews have been moved to accommodate long tables, adorned in chestnut velour, copper filigree and serve as the throne for only the most impressive squashes of the harvest. A buffet joins the autumnal decor, sitting in sterling silver that you can imagine was forged at the beginning of the century and is used only for occasions such as these.

Ever atune to your mind and body, Lucy pulls you into the line of hungry patrons just as your stomach grumbles. You’re transfixed by the magnificent altar at the back of this illustrious cave, your eyes climbing up the grand steps of the sanctuary to the stone table where you know the priest stands when mass is held. You try to picture one giving a sermon and reciting from scriptures. Doesn’t he have a cup or something too?…

A plate is stuck in front of you, waving a little, and the priest laughs at you when he finally gets your attention. You take the plate with a little embarrassment, your smile a sheepish one. “Sorry,” you mumble with pity.

The tall, wispy-haired man smiles with his teeth and places his arthritic hands around one of yours as you hold the plate. “Oh, it’s alright, my child. I myself have gotten lost in the wonders of the cathedral many times.”

Lucy chimes in, reading your awkward gaze. “It’s her first time,” she whispers with a little too much excitement for your liking. The priest puts on a goofy surprised expression, his eyebrows going up and his mouth forming a small 'o'. He looks back to you with a softer smile, “What a beautiful thing to witness, then. I’m Father Gala, pleased to meet you.”

“There’s no one better to come here with for the first time than Miss Finkle. You’re in very good hands.” As you nod in agreement, you can’t help but wonder… what would this elder man, in his starched and pressed vestments, think if he knew you and Lucy had “practiced” kissing so you’d know what you were doing when the “real thing” happened?

You wave the thought away like a gnat, not wanting to feel like you’re keeping another clean secret that’s considered dirty by some. You’re already under the guise of being a practicing Christian; Lucy had said they were more readily accepted than anyone else, despite the church’s proclamation of aiming for cultural diversity.

The choir has ended their singing, replaced by applause then the soft, overlapping chatter of the religious folk, and their red robes merge seamlessly into the surrounding crowd. Three other priests emerge from doors on either side of the sanctuary, two from the door closer to you and one from the other. You don’t get a good look at the singular man, since the door is on the opposite side of the grand hall from you. The two others are deep in talk, gesturing with their hands and keeping their faces close to one another while they walk as to not let anyone eavesdrop. You move ahead in line and depart from the eldest priest, whom the two new faces greet and guide a few feet away from everyone.

You don’t mean to pry, but you can’t help your curiosity and look back at the men. You can’t hear them, only watching their mouths move, but Father Gala’s sweet smile grows somber, then bitter. With scowling brows to match, the other two priests keep up their gestures laden with well-maintained passion as they tell Father Gala a story.

In the first lull of this conversation, the eldest priest, with his arms crossed over his chest, flickers his eyes to yours without moving his head. Your heart springs from your chest to your throat. His glower lessens when he bites the inside of his cheek, but you feel a doubling, tripling of stress when the other two priests turn to look at you too. The taller one, with a jet black, scraggly bowl cut, mirrors Father Gala and crosses his arms. He looks down his long nose at you in dignified annoyance. The third, with stocky limbs and strawberry blonde hair, glares at you from his periphery. Your eyes widen, in an attempt to show them you’re not a threat, expose your remorseful guilt, or provide a silent apology, you don’t know.

Lucy snaps you back forward with a gentle push against your back to get you to move in the line. You’ve finally reached the buffet, but suddenly the smells that wandered up your nose in wispy, tempting little tendrils earlier instead worm their way down your esophagus and instill a powerful nausea. She can sense your discomfort, your disorientation from what just happened, and supplies your plate for you. With a protective gaze over your head at the men, and a loving hand on your bicep, she guides you to sit in the pew farthest away from them.

She has to stick a fork in your petrified fist for you to speak. “What the hell was that about?” You question, chancing a glance over your shoulder at the offending party and see that they’ve gone off to greet guests with friendly smiles again. “I wasn’t trying to listen in, they just looked worried and-“

Lucy pats your knee once, “Don’t worry. There must be some sort of drama happening behind the scenes, something that the town would inquire about. Since they’re priests, they think they have immunity from gossip.” She scoffs lightly and you think you catch your devout friend rolling her eyes at those most holy. “They’ve been acting weird for a while now, off and on. One week, Father Gala is like Mr. Rogers, and the next, he’s Dracula.”

That earns a snort from you, hiding your smile behind the back of your hand. She gives you a reassuring smile, filled with her signature warmth that’s comforted you all these years, “You’re doing great. Now eat.”

Thankfully, your nausea has quelled enough that you taste the delicious food as it’s meant to be tasted. Maybe you don’t have to worry about foraging during your stay in this town void of all fast food, only relying on two quaint grocery stores to feed itself. You’ll just have to become friends with whoever made this delectably gooey mac and cheese.

Lucy interrupts you, “Oh, by the way,” she covers her full mouth and then swallows, pointing daintily, “that’s Father Thorn,” at the tall one, “and that’s Father Angus,” at the blonde one. You nod once in understanding, taking a look at their faces to match their names with, before Lucy turns away with a laugh. She teases under her breath, “Maybe they’re all pissed they could never be as handsome as Father Pike.”

“Priests can be handsome?” you ask of the mysterious fourth priest, bemused. Priests, deacons, popes and the like all conjure up images of men with wrinkles as delicate and numerous as the pages in the ancient books they abide by. If they’re not a million years old, they’re unsightly at best and possess a visceral lack of sensuality, like Father Thorn and Father Angus. Lucy has got to be pulling your leg.

“Yes,” she breathes, a soft pink blooming in her cheeks, “and young, and warm, and have a voice that makes every sermon a lullaby, and big, tender hands…” she trails off in a dream.

You let out a laugh, amused by her dramatics. “Oh, so he’s really ugly, then,” you sneer, trying to expose her hyperbole.

She giggles at your tone, shaking her head. You reign down on her, spurring her giggles on with a barrage of sarcasm until they’re uncontrollable.

“Is that why this place doesn’t have gargoyles, because he can take its place? Does he have leathery skin,” you drag your hands down your face, pulling your cheeks down to expose your eyes, “rotted fangs,” hold your hands by your mouth and snarl your fingers, “hairy feet with long, twisting toenails that tear through his shoes?” You get up and drag your feet along the floor, growling and licking your lips rabidly.

Lucy doubles over, tears threatening to spill over her eyes every time her lungs have to suck in a breath, “Stop!” She’s wheezing and you drop the act, putting your hands on your hips.

“Well, you gotta tell me if I’m wrong or not!” Tapping your foot, you await her retaliation, until a voice warm with a smile cuts through the air.

“You forgot the giant rat’s tail that drags behind me.”

Your heart stops for a second, thumping wildly when it starts up again to catch the missed beats. Turning tentatively on your heel, you’re met with… exactly what Lucy described.

Before you is one of the most handsome men you’ve ever seen, if not the most handsome ever. Chocolate waves that crest over top one another in a cute, slightly overgrown style glisten like ganache on top of his head in the candlelight. He’s got a scruffy beard that’s cut close to his cheeks and jaw, avoiding looking unkempt, threaded with two or three streaks of gray. His aquiline nose is gorgeous, there’s a little dimple in his cheek that deepens as he’s smiling, and his eyes… oh, his eyes…

“I’m Father Pike,” he extends his hand in greeting, keeping his other tucked behind his back. He has to bend forward slightly to reach your height better, aiding your descent into enchanted madness as he gets closer. You take his hand and introduce yourself- GOD Lucy was right. His grasp is light, comforting. Where Father Gala made you feel stuck in his eternal cage, Father Pike sets you free. You fall into a stupor fantasizing about what his hugs must feel like.

He smells like cinnamon. It could be from the pie you suspect he ate, from the apple undertones you detect, but you wouldn’t be surprised if that’s just how he naturally smelled. A warm, cozy, inviting dream; he sure looked like one, at least.

His gaze lingers on your expression frozen with intrigue before he turns and welcomes Lucy. They begin a polite banter that allows you to stand back and try to quell your blood that throbs with nerve. If you had known someone like Father Pike was going to be here, you would’ve dressed in something nicer, possibly sexy - the modesty expected in a place of worship be damned. You curse yourself for choosing these well-worn jeans and roomy sweater over the opaque tights and a dress of an acceptable length you were going back and forth on in your mirror earlier. But, in an odd sort of way, you still felt exposed in front of Father Pike from underneath all your thick layers. You couldn’t hide yourself from him, no matter how many clothes you armored yourself with.

He turns back to you, and he doesn’t ogle your nervous body, or try desperately not to; he looks into your eyes with a soft smile that crinkles the skin around those big brown puddles. It makes your chest feel like it has a big, gaping cavity that you could look inside of and see your heart thumping hard, vulnerable blood spilling from all your edges and trickling down your legs. The flustered emotions of a blooming crush rapidly morph into something malicious and parasitic, causing you to put the back of your hand to your forehead that has broken out in clamminess. It’s hard to hear Father Pike over the rushing buzz in your head when he speaks to you.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before, are you new?”

And just like that, your knees start trembling beneath you. Your heart misses a beat, causing your lungs to seize in anger and you suck in a harsh breath. In a flash, Father Pike’s friendliness snaps into genuine concern and he steps forward, taking your elbows and catching you on your way to the floor. You make a startled sound and his timbre slashes through your panic, “Let’s get you sat down somewhere, okay?”

You can barely muster a nod, tears threatening to spill over your eyes and join the rivulets of sweat on your cheeks. Father Pike more or less carries you by your middle as you pathetically cling to his arms, dragging your debilitated form a short distance to a secluded, abandoned pew by the door he entered from earlier in the evening. Father Pike sits you down and takes the place right beside you, putting his left arm around your shoulders and his right hand in yours. As soon as you’re grounded on the unforgiving wood, your vision stops spinning, even though you didn’t realize it had started. Breathing suddenly feels easy again, returning to its involuntary glory instead of being laborious. It’s like your body resumed its regularly scheduled programming with an invisible snap.

Away from the hub of the crowd, his voice seems louder, its velveteen quality more clear, “You alright?”

You take a precautionary, steadying breath before meeting his eyes, fearful that something in him will set off all your alarms again. But when you meet his eyes, everything is serene. “Y-yeah, I’m okay.”

A pause to verify your sincerity, and then he chuckles, trying to uplift the atmosphere with a lighthearted tone, “I didn’t mean to frighten you, I just…”

You laugh, as much as you can muster in your breathless state, “No, no, you didn’t!” He retracts his hand from yours slowly and you instinctively grasp his forearm with a reassuring touch. Once you notice what you’re doing, you let go of him with an embarrassment like he’s burning you. “I- I don’t really know what happened, all of the sudden I just felt… sick.” With your confession, a wave of nausea infiltrates your stomach and makes you feel a little queasy again. It’s climbing to its previous intensity quickly. The fossilized church feels like it could cave in on you at any moment.

Father Pike touches your shoulder softly, “I’m going to go get you some water, okay?” You nod and the waning gleam in your eye sends him swiftly disappearing into the crowd.

A decent number of paces away, an older woman looks at you with fear as Lucy speaks to her, no doubt explaining your abrupt qualm. Drawing any more attention than you already have will just worsen your panic, so you thwart the drama. You raise your hand at her with a thin-lipped smile to deter her worry and she places her hand over her heart with a happy sigh before walking away.

Father Pike reappears behind Lucy and drifts by her with your drink clutched tight in his hand. Lucy’s eyes flit from the priest’s chivalry to your shy, measly form and she raises her eyebrows and opens her mouth with a scoffing smile. You could read your best friend’s face better than written word: she thinks that you’re doing this on purpose to get the Father’s attention.

You wish you could say you were reeling him in with salacious spite, however, you were anything but. Your illness was true and unforgiving. You shake your head at her in defiance, but you can tell she doesn’t buy it. She turns away to busy herself with the rest of the party, but really she’s intending to give the two of you some privacy from the wink thrown over her shoulder. With a roll of your eyes, you think about how you’ll have to defend yourself with a foolproof case under her gavel later tonight.

Father Pike retakes his seat next to you, handing you the bottle of water, unopened, that your puny fingers struggle with. Kindly, he offers his hand and you pass over the bottle for him to open. He hands it back to you and sits hunched over his lap, hands clasped between his open legs, staring at you intently as you take a few slow sips. You feel a little awkward, looking down at the bottle in your hands and fidgeting with the wrapper on the outside, so you take a note from his book and try to lighten the mood, “I knew I wasn’t a big fan of parties, but I didn’t know I was this bad.” You chuckle dryly, risking a glance at him. It works: he’s laughing with you.

“I’m not a big party person, either,” he smiles, his dimple creasing within his beard. You raise an eyebrow at him, a little befuddled by his statement, given he inserts himself into the lives of others for a living. He takes your hint, “I enjoy talking to people, giving sermons and all of that… but even this feels a little overwhelming for me.” You nod, finding comfort in the fact that you’re on the same page. He keeps that endearing smile with a measuring eye as he continues watching you, looking from the crease of your brow to how your legs squirm uncomfortably.

There’s something about this man that makes you feel… transparent. Like how you felt exposed to him earlier, even underneath all your coarsely knitted layers. You feel like a fraud, sitting next to one of the holiest figures in the entire congregation. And for some reason, out of all of the people here, you feel that he deserves the truth. There’s nothing about him that has given you any indication that he won’t turn on you like the rest would if you confess to your disguise, but at the same time… he makes you feel safe. Of course, he just recovered you from some undisclosed blight, but you can write that off as convenience. You were sick, he was right there, certainly he would’ve tended to you. There must be some moral code within the priesthood to never let a sick person lie. But even before that, putting aside his obvious handsomeness, there was something in his eyes that held you. Let you know that it was all okay. You decide to ply him with honesty.

“Um… so, I’m not very religious. Like, at all.” Your voice is a little shaky, worried if his nice-guy facade will finally melt away to reveal a sneering orthodox. He doesn’t seem to have a reaction, so you keep going.

“So, if I’m not religious, and I’m drinking this, does that mean…” You trail off in question, and he doesn’t understand what you’re getting at.

“It’s holy, right?” You raise the water.

Father Pike looks like he can’t believe what you just asked. He shakes his head in amusement, void of condescension, leaning the slightest bit closer towards you. He lowers his voice slightly, protecting you from any invasive ears. He softly explains, “Just because it’s water in a church doesn’t mean it’s holy. A priest or some other figure has to bless it.” His smirk deepens at your visible relief, “You’re not sinning, or anything near it. You’re perfect.”

He said you’re… what? Your heart skips again but this time it’s not from sickness. Well... is it sick to be attracted to someone who is virtually untouchable? You get to thinking; you know enough about the church and its inner workings to know that priests usually take a vow of celibacy. Consequently, most never date or get married. Does that mean… are they barred from all things sensual? Are they allowed to tenderly brush their fingers against someone else’s, and not for the purpose of prayer? Can they share a glance that lingers a little too long for it to be considered chaste? Can they… can they even think about anything remotely sexual?

There’s no way that can be true. You can understand physical celibacy, sure, but it’s impossible for one not to have a thought that makes them quiver at least once in their life. In your own experience, sensuality sometimes has nothing to do with sex. You’ve felt the warmth of eroticism lying under the sun’s rays in the middle of spring, savoring a delicious meal, when you finish a book with a satisfying conclusion. If Father Pike starves himself of such pleasures, you can’t fight the pity that chokes you.

“What if they have priests at the packaging plant?” You joke, hoping to simultaneously break the silence that has swelled between you two and put a wedge in your brain’s cogs so they’ll stop churning.

Father Pike laughs, genuinely from his belly, and oh you could get used to that sound. His eyes crinkle at their corners with a grin, “Then the church would be thrilled at our outreach.”

You go to take another sip of your water, but his hand comes out to touch yours. The impossible delicacy almost makes you flinch. He puts gentle pressure on your skin, making you stop in your tracks. He shifts closer to you, his voice dropping an octave, warning you, “I’d be careful though; there is a possibility that you could grow rotted fangs and hairy feet, if I’m remembering correctly.”

Your fluttering nerves make your laugh squeak out of your tightened throat, louder than you intended, in a bark. Slightly mortified, you hide your smile behind the hand that isn’t suspended in the air by Father Pike. With mercy, he releases you.

“What about a rat’s tail?” You ask with a teasing glint in your eye.

He ponders for a moment, comically deep in thought. “That only affects the most sinful of us,” he reveals.

...What? That was flirty, right? It had to be flirty. There’s no way he didn’t mean it to be flirty. Your imagination can be very active at times, but there was no mistaking the twitch of his mustache to repress a smirk.

Trying to ignore the furious heat that has instantaneously kindled between your thighs based on that singular tone change, you latch the bottle to your mouth and avert your eyes elsewhere. Out of your periphery, you think you see Father Pike’s shoulders droop and his gaze lower to the ground with a silent huff. Shit, did he take your silence as a blow to his humor?

You can’t think too much now because the clocks outside in the streets resound ten chimes. Lucy appears and her beaming at the two of you seems to rejuvenate Father Pike a little. He straightens his back before he stands and they begin talking, shaking hands. Their mouths spew unintelligible babble to you as your entire nervous system is locked on one thing: Father Pike’s back. His gorgeous personality had swept you up and away into a cloud of bubbly giggles and blushing cheeks that you hadn’t noticed what he was wearing. Maybe if the robes had made a greater impression on you, they would’ve served as a reminder to restrain yourself from dreaming about the forbidden, but alas.

Father Pike is dressed identically to the other priests: black clerical shirt, cassock, pants, and shoes, and a white tab collar. But he wears everything so much better. The garments are majorly obscured by the enveloping cassock, but even the thick, flowing fabric can’t hide the broad width of his shoulders. When he gestures with his hands, you can see the muscles move dreamily in reaction by the flickering candlelight. He’s tall, and this fact is only emphasized as you continue to sit motionless on the pew watching him and Lucy.

When he turns with a hand outstretched to help you to your feet, you bite your lip with ravenous desire. Somehow you didn’t notice - probably because you were too enthralled with everything else about him - how his Adam’s apple sits on glorious display with the white tab collar as its pedestal. The tempting image makes you swallow hard. God, that shouldn’t be as hot as it is.

“Time to get going,” Lucy says, motioning from behind the Father’s back for you to take his hand. You do and stand, drifting to the front of the church on autopilot. It feels like the calm quiet of your time with Father Pike and the chummy, sociable atmosphere of the dinner has dissipated and a sense of urgency has taken root. The friendliness remains in the goodbyes and promises of meeting again you hear all around you, but you’re definitely being ushered out with the rest of the herd. You guess, remembering a tidbit about religious folk, that they have a curfew.

It feels like you’re being ripped away from Father Pike and you don’t like that. Although you’ve only known him for all but two hours - which sounds ridiculous when you put it like that - you’re desperate to know more. You’d find genuine, complete contentedness in simply watching him go about his daily activities. Recording what details he decides to give you privy to and admiring his boundaries when he reserves himself. He’s the first possibility of a new friend in this conservative township and you don’t want to let him go.

You’re grateful that he ghosts your back as Lucy leads you to the entrance, it gives you comfort and makes this dream last as long as it can. You don’t sense just how close he’s following behind you until you get to the heavy front doors and the toe of his shoe snags on the heel of yours. It makes you trip and fumble forward, but Father Pike reaches to catch you. His hands grip your waist, molding your oversized sweater to your body. Then, he gently steadies and pulls you back upright. The foreign sensation of your flattened heel tickles your foot and sends you stumbling back into his chest. He looks down at you, his hands still on you, “I-I apologize.”

Through the darkness you see the tips of his ears glow red. Before you can say anything in return, he renders you speechless by getting on his knees. Without a word spoken, moving in tandem with implicit choreography, you lift your foot up so he can fix the heel back into place. He doesn’t give you the choice of wobbling on your lonesome, placing one of your hands on his right shoulder to keep you balanced. And god, you wish he hadn’t done that.

Your lips part as your breaths gain some weight, but you snap your oblong mouth shut when you hear an ancient, warbly voice. “Oh, no, what have we here?” Father Gala teeters over just as Father Pike finishes retying your shoe. Imperceptibly, you squeeze his shoulder in reverence as he stands up and then you let your hand fall innocently to your side.

You shrug, giggling a little uncomfortably, “Father Pike stepped on the back of my shoe, it was an accident.”

“Young and clumsy,” Father Gala jokes, you think, with a grumbly tone. He claps a hand on Father Pike’s left shoulder with more effort than you thought the old man could muster. As Father Pike steadies the elder priest’s cane, you reason he more so fell into Father Pike than anything else. Your favored Father chuckles with accountability.

Father Gala passes off his cane for a moment to take your hand in his two, like he did when he gave you the dinner plate earlier this evening. Clearly the party has tired him out; his hands are quivering and his back is permanently bent at an angle. “Peace be with you,” he croaks with cheerfulness, despite his withered voice.

You freeze. You know you’re supposed to say something back to complete this exchange and from the innermost depths of your brain you think it should be a simple phrase, something that any ardent Christian would remember. Between your disinterest in the church and the Father Pike fog that has eclipsed your mind, you’re dumbfounded.

An angel appears in your midst and comes to your rescue: Father Pike, peering into your eyes over the shoulder of the crouched figure before you, mouths the words silently, “And also with you.”

“And also with you,” you recite amicably. Father Gala smiles, pats your hand twice in delight and turns to give Lucy the same departing sentiment. You release the air of worry you held inside and take a few steps to meet Father Pike, whispering close by his side so only he will hear, “Thank you.”

The handsome Father closes your height difference by leaning down and pretends to brush some invisible dust off of your shoulder, an excuse to be this close to you.

“Don’t mention it. Your secret’s safe with me,” he murmurs.

And you trust him to keep his promise. Sure, he could go behind your back and spill your lies to the other priests, the entire community, let them know that there’s a rat infiltrating their congregation.

The mischievous sparkle in his gaze as he looks at down you, biting your lip to suppress your giggle and keep your little inside secret just that, tells you he won’t let one word slip.

Father Gala has returned for his cane, so Father Pike clears his throat and stiffens himself. Clasping his hands together, he builds an appropriate distance between the two of you before anyone sees it was anything otherwise.

The night winds have picked up, biting at bits of exposed skin with a malevolent appetite. To shield the older priest, Father Pike guides him back into the cathedral. “I hope to see you two back soon,” the handsome Father interjects as you’re turning to leave.

“We’ll be here Sunday!” Lucy shouts over an unnatural gust that howls and warbles her voice. With one arm over each other’s shoulders, holding tight together, you begin the trek back to her house to take refuge for the night. Behind you, you hear the cathedral doors shut, sealing you off from a final parting glance to Father Pike. You aren’t too disheartened by that and the cold can’t gnaw at your heart, either; Sunday is only two days away and you can’t contain your excitement.

——

The whole night has felt like a whirlwind. To your complete and utter surprise, visiting the church is no longer seems like it’ll be a chore, but rather an opportunity. For what, you’re not exactly sure just yet. But you can feel the heat rising to your cheeks and skirting down your spine at the infinite possibilities. Maybe you should start praying for your salvation now.

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robertsmithclone · 1 year

Text

I Wait For You (It’s What I Do)

Xavier Thorpe x Female Original Character (Sade Ricci)

Sade Ricci’s fangs just came in two weeks into the school year, so that means a transfer to Nevermore academy. (Does not follow show plot)

1.8k words. (part one)

TW: mentions of blood, slight mentions of eating disorder, very very slight nod to pill addiction, one mention of sexual fantasies, cigarettes

Posting to Ao3 under wonde_rr and Wattpad under SHADYGROVEE

Playlist : it’s in the works

chapter one masterlist

translations at the end

As Sade walked through the doors of Nevermore with her father, she could only focus on one thing; the smell of blood.

Of course her father, Paolo, noticed her tense up and brought his big, rough hand down on her shoulder. “Luce del sole, remember what we practiced.” The dark haired man smiled down at her.

“Papà, I know. I’m fine!” Sade shrugged off his hand as Principal Weems approached with a smile.

“Ah, don’t be like this, mia ragazza!”

After a trip to Principal Weem’s office and a visit to Sade’s dorm, her father had to leave and she felt like sobbing. Boarding school was going to be hell, but it was the only option after her fangs came in not long after the school year started. Nevermore was two weeks in when Sade showed up, and she couldn’t feel more out of place.

She was an Italian vampire. All these people were American. The outcast at a school for outcasts.

Principal Weems had told her to put on her uniform and she’d get a student to give Sade a tour. So, that’s what Sade did. The uniform was bright purple and ill fitting. She already missed her maroon aura.

——

“Sade, this is Rowan. He’ll be giving you your tour today. I do hope you’ll love it here.” Weems gave her the same smile as before and left them outside her office.

The brown haired boy looked over at her and smiled. “As Weems said, I’m Rowan. How did you pronounce your name again?”

He was awfully nice, and very pretty. Sade thought he seemed suspicious, but she thought that of everyone at first.

“Say-d. Nice to meet you, ragazzo carino.” She made sure to flash her fangs slightly and give him a flirty grin.

Rowan’s face flushed and he adjusted his glasses.

“I have to say I wasn’t expecting an Italian accent, but you’re probably full of surprises.” He grinned slightly. “Anyways, follow me.”

Rowan took her around the whole school, without too many odd looks. She had arrived on a Sunday which was probably a good thing except for the fact she started classes tomorrow with practically no time to prepare.

They stopped at their final destination, the small docks by the big lake.

“Well, that’s it.” He smiled at her and glanced at his watch. “Any questions?”

“Does everyone normally wear their uniforms on weekends?” Sade was slightly appalled that she saw everyone wearing one.

Rowan laughed. “Um, no. Weems just wanted to make a good impression on you.”

Sade rolled her eyes and sighed. Of course, but who even cares?

“So, now is usually when my friends and I meet up for lunch on weekends. You’re welcome to come, but I understand if you’d rather unpack and relax.” He seemed hopeful and despite Sade’s adversity to food, she really didn’t feel like being alone. Plus it gave her more of a chance to flirt with Rowan. She thought he was cute when he was flustered.

“Sure, tesoro. Do you guys go into Jericho for that?” Knowing the small town nearby was important for her escape plan, in better words, escape fantasy.

“Yeah, actually, we do. I’ll text our group chat that you’re coming with me.” He pulled out his phone and Sade caught another grin of his. He couldn’t seem to stop doing that. Grinning.

Rowan’s blood smelled so sweet, and she’d rather have that for lunch than whatever was in town. Sade knew she could bite him in a way not to hurt him, just to get a taste, but she couldn’t disappoint her father by running around biting whoever she wanted.

——

They finally made it into Jericho after a 25 minute walk with very slight rain the whole time. Sade felt damp, and she didn’t like it.

Rowan led her into a cafe/diner that she had seen on her way to Nevermore. It was fairly empty aside from what Sade assumed was Rowan’s group.

In a circular booth in the corner sat a bright blonde haired girl with a smile on her face, a boy with a large beanie, a girl with braids and a brooding look on her face, a girl with circular sunglasses and straight black hair, and finally the most attractive boy Sade had ever seen.

The boy was obviously tall, he had long hair, and looked like he hadn’t slept in days. Oh, this was going to be fun.

Rowan waved slightly to the curly blonde haired boy behind the counter and slid into the booth with his friends, Sade sliding in right next to him.

They all greeted him with smiles, except for the brooding girl.

“Hey guys, this is Sade. She’s a vampire.” Rowan introduced her to them all and she smiled, flashing her fangs.

“Sade, this is Enid, Ajax, Wednesday, Yoko, and Xavier. Oh, and the guy behind the counter is Tyler. He doesn’t go to Nevermore but we hang out with him sometimes.” He introduced her to everyone around the table and Sade was able to put names to faces.

Xavier leaned around Rowan and put his hand out for Sade to shake, which she did. He grinned at her. “Nice to meet the reason we’re wearing uniforms today.”

“Don’t blame me, bellissimo, I’m not happy about it either.” She dropped his hand.

“Bellissimo?” Xavier looked at her confusedly, but she turned to officially meet the others.

“She’s been calling me Italian nicknames all day, with no explanation, just translate it later.” Rowan whispered to Xavier, followed with a soft laugh.

Xavier just shook his head, and scowled slightly as he saw Tyler walk over and look directly at Sade.

Xavier and Tyler had previously quarreled over various things, but most recently Wednesday. It didn’t really matter because Wednesday didn’t pick either of them. Although Tyler persisted, Xavier didn’t. Xavier knew it was to make him mad, especially with their past. It was unfortunate that Tyler’s kissing skills were so good. Xavier wished he had never found that out.

Xavier thought Sade was the most perfect girl he had ever seen, and if Tyler takes that from him too he just might shoot himself.

“You’re new.” Tyler smiled at Sade.

“Sì, e che ne dici, teppista biondo?” Sade quipped, with a slightly aggressive tone.

It made the table giggle and gasp, but Tyler just stood with his mouth hanging open for a second.

“I’m sorry?” He was confused to say the least, which made the table laugh more.

“So cosa sei, ragazzo barista, uno sleazebag. lo sento.” Sade’s tone was annoyed now. She didn’t really know why she was so bothered with him, probably because she hadn’t eaten since last night, but food disgusted her so she was mean to this Tyler boy instead.

Tyler backed away slightly and Sade slid out of the booth. “I’m going for a cigarette.” She glanced at the table and made her way outside into the light rain.

She pulled a pack and lighter from her bra. Sade loved the smell of nicotine and blood mixed together.

Right as she was letting out smoke, Xavier walked out the door and stood next to her.

“I would offer you one but they’re blood infused.” Sade looked up at him shyly. It wasn’t as easy to flirt with someone like Xavier compared to Rowan. Xavier was different, and being alone with him was scary in a way.

“That’s too bad,” He looked down at her and smiled slightly. “So, what were you saying in there?”

The fact that he asked made Sade curious. What was his motive?

“Oh, I just called him a hoodlum and told him I could sense he was a sleazebag.” She tucked some of her hair behind her ear and took another drag.

Xavier laughed and Sade went weak in the knees. How could someone’s laugh be so beautiful?

“In my humble opinion, you were spot on.” He leaned back against the brick wall and looked up into the sky. She knew there had to be history between them, whatever that may be. Sade could almost smell Xavier’s blood boiling when Tyler walked over.

“I could smell it in his blood.”

“Seriously?” Xavier’s head whipped over to look at her. His eyebrows were furrowed and he had a confused look on his face.

Sade looked back up at him and laughed. “No, you’re too…oh what’s that word? Credulone, I don’t know it in english.” Her face became flushed out of embarrassment and she smiled slightly.

Xavier couldn’t take his eyes off of her. The way she blushed was adorable and he knew how bad this was for him. He already lost the war, that was a fact.

“Gullible?” The corner of his mouth quirked up.

“I don’t know, is that it? Probably. You believe things too easily.” Sade took another drag of her cigarette. There were lipstick stains on it and it was driving Xavier crazy.

“Trust me I don’t, I just don’t know too much about vampires.” He chuckled and looked back up to the gray sky.

“Me either, to be honest. My fangs just came in two weeks ago and I’m still figuring this all out. It’s taking everything in me not to bite you. The smell of your glorioso blood is just too much for me to handle.” Sade lowered her voice and octave when she got to the biting part, and looked up at Xavier with her red eyes wide.

Xavier’s breath got caught in his throat and his face became slightly flushed. He looked down at Sade, sexual fantasies floating around his head just at the sight of her looking at him like that. He knew she should be scary to him right now but she wasn’t. Just beautiful.

“I’m joking, Xavier.” Sade quickly dropped the act, despite seeing the truth in her own lies, Xavier seemed to really believe her, and kind of into it.

“Right, of course.” He shook his head and laughed softly to himself before walking back inside the cafe, leaving Sade alone in the rain.

——

Sade couldn’t help but lie in bed thinking about Xavier. She couldn’t be bothered to worry about classes with him distracting her.

She reached over to her nightstand and pulled out her blood pills but put them back after reading the label. She shuffled the things in her drawer around and pulled out the painkillers. She popped two in her mouth and drifted off to sleep with one thing on her mind.

——

Xavier knew he wasn’t getting sleep tonight. Not after meeting Sade. He’d be lucky if he ever got to sleep again, it wasn’t likely with Sade around.

He sat at his desk, sketching her. Sketching her face, her fangs, eyes, body, making her come to life to hear her laughter and see her flash her fangs at him.

He was just lucky Rowan never asked him what he was drawing, and didn’t mind the sound of Cavier’s pencil when he was trying to sleep.

—

Translations:

Luce del sole - Sunshine

Papà - Dad

mia ragazza - my girl

ragazzo carino - pretty boy

tesoro - sweetheart (male) or treasure

bellissimo - gorgeous

Sì, e che ne dici, teppista biondo? - yes, and what about it, blonde hoodlum?

So cosa sei, ragazzo barista, uno sleazebag. lo sento. - I know what you are, barista boy, a sleazebag. I can sense it.

Credulone - gullible

glorioso - glorious

#Spotify #mj’s bs #wednesday netflix #wednesday incorrect quotes #fanfic #wednesday fanfic #xavier thorpe x female oc #xavier thorpe x oc #xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe #wednesday addams #enid sinclair #wenclair #rowan laslow #ajax petropolus #yoko tanaka

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forever-fixating · 22 days

Text

Some Sentences Sunday

Thanks to @priincebutt @onthewaytosomewhere @dragonflylady77 and @piratefalls for the tags! I've actually been doing quite a bit of scribbling this week on two different projects, and I was torn on which one to share. So I decided to say "fuck it" and share snippets from both! Below the cut are snippets from A Tournament for His Heart and living in a new normal! THH is quite angsty, so I figured I'd add some sweet from LNN to temper that. Enjoy!

A Tournament for His Heart

“Roland told me about Bea’s outburst last night,” Henry said, picking at the grass. “I should have been here.”

Phillip sighed. “Minari advised me against it. She was so gone last night, Hen, there was nothing you could have done.”

“You don’t know that,” Henry snapped. “I’ve seen her at her worst. You don’t have to treat me like a child!”

“That isn’t fair,” Phillip replied. Henry looked at him and saw frustration in his eyes. Phillip pointed in the direction that Bea disappeared. “She was my priority in that moment. I know you don’t like it, feel excluded when we don’t call on you, but I can handle her in those moments better than you can. She is your twin. I know you feel her absence more acutely than I ever could.

His previous irritation melted away as Phillip’s words hit right at the heart of him. It was a hard adjustment at first, to be so disconnected from the person with whom he once shared everything, even a womb. She was his other half. Now, he was a friendly stranger in her eyes. A foolish part of him hoped Minari would find something that would bring Bea back to them. She sent messages to fellow healers from different parts of Lerasea and beyond, only to continue to come up empty-handed. She once told him, “Magick can only do so much, Henry. Wounds of the mind are tricky and not so easily healed.”

“I feel so lost without her, Pip,” Henry whispered, his vision swimming. “Giving up Alex was hard enough, but I told myself then I could survive it as long as I had Bea with me.”

He sucked in a breath and felt Phillip’s hand on his back.

“But without her?” Henry continued. “Having to publicly fight with you, be looked down upon by the court and Mary’s counsel…at times, it feels unbearable.”

living in a new normal

(Alex is in italics, and Henry is not. Based on their texting styles, I figured it would be obvious, but I added the italics just in case.)

whats ur go-to comfort meal?

Yes, hello, love. How are you? I’m fine, thanks. Was there a conversation started I missed somewhere?

adhd, baby. im always in the middle of a conversation.

go-to comfort meal, go!

In England, a full English, with the Welsh variation of laverbread instead of beans on toast.

just googled what that is. wtf???

Don’t know it until you’ve tried it, love.

In America, grilled cheese and tomato soup. When I moved here, I was determined to start cooking for myself and that was one of the first recipes I learned.

my dad would make us tomatillo soup when we were sick

ill send u the recipe

oh! or we can make it together when u come to austin

i got a badass kitchen set-up

So, is that your go-to comfort meal? I can’t wait to try it.

probably

that or my mom’s king ranch chicken casserole

ur turn to ask a question

What five movie when you show someone as a snapshot of who you are and why?

fuck, that’s a tough one!

A/N- Have a great week!

#tagging games #some sentence sunday #red white and royal blue #firstprince #rwrb #alex claremont diaz #henry fox mountchristen windsor #a tournament for his heart #living in a new normal

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snffbeebee · 11 months

Text

Poisoned Apples Chapter 1

A/N - Well here it is Ya'll the first chapter!! Now @ezilyamuzed and I have made a schedule for a new chapter to come out every Sunday...That crazy girl has already written probably the next 2, maybe even 3 chapters, so get ready!!

Warnings - Language and Violence ..... just for now, but in the upcoming chapters PLEASE read the warnings!!!

Word Count - 3,375.

“Yo, we got another one,” you heard a voice state on the other side of your office wall as you were ready to pack up for the night.

“Great,” you sighed as you took off your jacket. Guess it’s another late friday. You walked out to the EMT who was filling out his clipboard as the nurse was getting your new client registered.

“What do we have?” you asked as you walked out.

“Crazy son of a bitch,” he replied. “Fucking insane. Just your type.”

You looked down at the blood that he had on his shirt and pants while he spoke. No cuts on him, so must have been the new client. There was a struggle indeed. Great, one of those nights.

“Does he need medical first?”

“This isn’t his blood,” he replied. He went on to tell a story of how there were multiple bodies found at the scene brutally murdered and him in the midst of it all; silent. It gave you an eerie chill as he described how the cops had to subdue him with tasers so the EMTs could sedate him for transfer.

“And why is he here then?” you gave him a harsh reply. “He should live the rest of his life in jail.”

“That’s the thing,” he sighed. “Cops ran his prints. He’s supposedly dead. They figured this would be best for him while they figure out how a dead guy is alive. Keep him sedated and in a nice padded room.”

“This is not a babysitting service,” you rolled your eyes. “This is a hospital for the mentally ill.”

“And killing 4 people with your bare hands isn’t?” He gave you a look that made you want to punch him. Smartass.

“Still sedated?”

“Hell yes.”

“Put him in room 13,” you said with a huff.

You walked back into your office as the nurse crept to the doorway.

“Dr. Y/L/N?”

“Yes?”

“My 3rd shift relief isn’t here yet and I have to get my son…”

“Go home Anne. It’s okay. Security is still here and everyone is asleep. We should be fine until she gets here.”

“But with the new intake…”

“He’s sedated. He will be fine. I’ll do the paperwork,” you gave an assuring smile. “Go tuck in your little one and have a good night. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Don’t stay all night,”She gave you a knowing look. Sometimes she was more of a mom than a coworker, but you loved her for it. She knew you would stay until relief came, and even more likely not go home until well after that. This place was practically your home.

She left with a goodbye as she gathered her things. The EMT was walking back with the guy 4-point cuffed to the stretcher, soaked in blood. He was a mess for sure. You followed him to room 13 and got him in safely, putting on your nitrile gloves first to check for anything in his pockets that could be harmful.

The EMT didn’t even hesitate to book it out of there after dropping him off. With a ‘good luck’ he was out quickly. Just you and the mystery man. You look at his still face, he looked handsome under all that grime. You reached into his pockets looking for anything and found a car key for some old chevy and a couple of wadded up dollars. You bagged them, ready to just leave him be until more help came but you felt bad leaving him like that. All the blood, more than likely waking up with that still on him was going to do more harm than good if he wasn’t already completely psychotic.

After retrieving a bucket of water and some cloths, you worked to wipe him down a bit. Starting with his arm you washed off the blood and dirt, moving him down to his hands, careful of the cuffs. You moved over to the next one when a mark caight your eye. You tried to turn his arm over so you could see, but the cuff was making it difficult. You looked at his peaceful face once more and made the decision to take off the cuff to see. It was an odd red mark that looked like a seven with two lines near it. After making a mental note, you moved to his face. The water revealed freckles along his nose and a little scar on his chin. He was very handsome underneath it all as you continued to try and get the blood out of his hair.

You had gotten distracted in your task that you almost didn’t catch the piercing green eyes snap open to you, stabbing you in your soul. You didn’t even have a chance to breathe in before his hand was around your throat. As he squeezed you felt the sheer panic inside of you overtake your body as he gave you a look that could only be described as murderous as his eyes hit yours like little diggers. He began to blink rapidly, like he was awaking from a dream.

“Where am I?” his grip grew softer for you to choke out ‘St.Stan’s hospital’.

He looked you up and down before he dropped his hand. He undid his cuffs as you bent over trying to catch your breath threw the choking.

“Why am I here?”

“EMT brought you,” you replied, backing away from him slowly as you rubbed your neck. “You murdered 4 people when they found you.”

“I what?” he furrowed his glare to you.

“That’s what they said,” you replied in defense, not wanting to make him angry.

“Cops around?”

“Not now, but I’m sure they were.”

“Time to go then,” he replied as he got up from his spot.

“You can’t just leave,” you blurted out.

“Who’s going to stop me?” He gave you a hard glare. You didn’t respond, but stood emotionless, hoping that your words didn’t put you into more harm. “That’s what I thought.”

He opened the door and peered out, he shut the door rather quickly and quietly for someone attempting to escape.

“Shit,” he breathed out.

“What?”

“5-0,” he replied before looking back at you. “You.”

“Me what?”

“You need to go out there and get them away from here.”

“How am I supposed to-“

“Figure it out,” he snapped at you.

You nodded as you walked out, throwing your gloves away in the garbage can outside the room. As you walked down the hall you wondered what would happen if you did just give him over. He killed four people. Could the police take him down?

“Officer Tony,” you smiled as you got to the reception desk.

“Doctor,” Officer Tony replied firmly. He was a frequent visitor for cases, more often to shamelessly flirt for a while while you turned him down each and every time. Typically he would call you by your real name and then attempt to ask you out. He didn’t this time. He was oddly still and serious.Unlike him. “I’m doing a follow up on a guy they brought in.”

“The resurrected dead guy?”

“That’s the one.”

“He’s still sedated,” you responded after noticing Tony was all alone which was something else unusual. Where was his partner Jake?

“So we need 24/7 watch on time while they do their investigation and eventually they will move him to a more secure facility. We need you to check his mental competency for trial, so we won’t get any of that bullshit insanity pleas.”

“Is there even proof he did it?” you found yourself asking.

“He was found in the middle of it.”

“What if it was self defense?”

“Unlikely,” he scuffed at you. “Bastard is going to fry.”

“I thought it was innocent until proven guilty ?” you snarked back. He didn’t really flinch at that, but stared you down like he was the boss. Very annoying.

“Anyways,” he changed the subject, obviously annoyed by you as well. “We need all your reports of course when you start with him.”

“That’s fine,” you replied. “If he signs a release of information.”

“Excuse me?”

“He is a patient in my care now,” you harped back. “Legally I don’t have to tell you shit about him.”

“You’re going to make this hard on me?”

“I’m just doing my job the right way, Officer,” you posed with a fake smile. “At least one of us should.”

“I’ll be back with a warrant,” he replied with a scowl before leaving. You waited a moment before going back to the mysterious man. If he really was a danger, you couldn’t just let him go back out and hurt people. You had no idea what you were doing, but your gut told you there was something more to all of this.

“Good job,” he stated as you returned. “Pissing off the local boys is always a favorite behavior of mine.”

“Why shouldn’t I call security right now?” you blurted out. “You’ve already attacked and threatened me. Why shouldn’t I even call that cop back in? Give me a reason.”

“Because you and a lot of people here will die if you do,” he responded coldly.

“Is that another threat?”

“Prediction,” he stated as he shook his head. “Now I need your help to get me out of here.”

“No.”

“No?” he looked back to you with a smirk. “Oh I wasn’t asking sweetheart.”

He grabbed at your arm and pulled you to follow him. You struggled against him but then felt something pointing into your back. It felt sharp as you tensed up.

“How did you get a knife?” you asked.

“Don’t you worry about that,” he said as you felt the pressure pushing into you again. “Now I want you to walk like everything is normal, get your stuff, and we are leaving in your vehicle. One wrong move and you will regret it.”

You did as you were told, walking as calmly as you could back to your office. You grabbed your bag and phone. He took them from you, slipped the phone into his pocket, and pulled out your ID from your wallet in your purse.

“Y/N Y/L/N,” he read aloud. “ I now know your name, birthday, and address. If you do something stupid, don’t think I won’t come find you.”

“How do you expect to get pass security?”

He looked down at himself and noticed the blood soaked clothes.

“Where’s your property room?”

“We don’t have-“

“Bullshit,” he spat. “All these places have one to lock up the loonies things. Where is it?”

“Next to security,” you stated.

“Well, isn’t that fun?” he smirked.

He pushed you along the hallway, you attempting to give directions as you approached security. There was one of the three guards on duty in there and he was busy watching videos on his phone. You pointed to the property room and he grabbed the keys from your clip on your waist, putting them in your hands. After unlocking it, you found yourself alone in a dark room with this psychopath until he found the light switch.

“Jackpot,” he stated as he grabbed jeans and a shirt. He tore off his clothing that he had on, leaving him in just his boxers for you to see as he got himself dressed. You had turned your head away for a moment, but he made made the comment about you being a stuck up prude that caused you to look back.

“The other guards are doing rounds,” you stated.

“We better hurry then,” he replied as he grabbed his jacket and tucked it in his arm. “And remember-“

“Yeah yeah,” you scoffed. “Don't try anything.”

As you walked out the guard, Bob, with his phone playing some comedy skit noticed you.

“Late night Dr. Y/N?” he smiled.

“Yes,” you smiled back as you signed yourself out of the clipboard.

“And who is this?” he looked over to the mystery man.”

“My intern,” you blurted out and then calmly smiled. “He doesn’t have his badge or keys yet.”

“Well sign out,” Bob said looking at the man with a suspicious look.

You watched as he signed himself out. Name Jonathan Cash. An alias? More than likely. You said your goodbye and went directly outside of the building after he buzzed the two of you out. You knew that if he did his job it would only be within 5 minutes or so that he noticed that Jonathan Cash never signed in.

“Which car is yours?” you felt the sharp pressure on your back again.

“The ‘70 camaro,” you replied.

“Really?” he sounded surprised. “I would have thought a prius or minivan.”

As you approached the car he directed you to get in the driver's seat and drive normally. You did as directed as he started to go through everything he could within your car.

“Old water bottles, hairbrush, packs of gum,” he said as he started to toss around things. “Change of clothes.”

He stopped when he saw the underpants and picked them up with a smirk and a wink to you, but put them back away.

“Where am I going?”

“You’re place,” he responded. “Need to lay low and refocus.”

“Well Jonathan, if that is your name,” you stated as you looked behind you in the mirror . “I think we’re being followed.”

He turned his head back and watched a newer Ford Queen Victoria staying far enough back to not be too close, but still close enough to not lose you.

“How far is this place of yours?” he asked.

“Two more blocks,” you replied.

“You have salt?”

“What?” you gave him a funny look.

“Salt, iron, any type of weapons there?”

“You’re insane,” you continued to furry your brows

to him.

“Probably,” he stated as he adjusted himself back into the seat and started looking through your stuff again. “But just as a quick rundown precaution, demons are after me. They are dicks that are hard to kill without the right weapons, but you can make them hurt a lot. Listen to me and I’ll keep you alive.”

“Demons?” you snarked as you turned into your street. “Are you on something?”

“Sober,” he replied nonchalantly. “Well mostly now.”

You pulled into the driveway of your townhouse. It was simple enough for just you since all your family were all pretty much gone or states away. He looked behind him again and saw the car parked along the side of the road a few houses down with its lights off.

“Inside,” he stated firmly.

You got out of the car and went inside. He directed you to sit on the couch while he checked around. While he was out of your sight, you stealthily retrieved the glock you had in your desk drawer. When he came back you aimed it right for him.

“Whoa,” he held up his hands. “Don’t shoot me! I’m not the enemy here.”

“Bullshit,” you blurted. “Now get down on the floor.”

“You don’t want to pull that trigger,” he showed you the mark on his arm. “You do that and things will only get worse for you.”

“Toss my phone on the couch and get down,” you commanded again. “I won’t ask twice.”

“Okay, okay,” he replied as he retrieved the phone and tossed it, getting down to the floor with his hands still up. Before he was fully down on the floor all of the sudden your front door was kicked in, Tony the cop now entering with a friend behind. His eyes weren’t his eyes. They were black as night. They charged in towards you, the mystery guy jumping up in return to attack. As Tony attacked your capturer the other one pulled out a long silver, almost dagger like weapon. He was coming right at you. You put two slugs into him and he continued like nothing happened. You emptied the clip

into him but he managed to keep moving, now right in front of you reaching for you. You attempted

to flea, but he grabbed you from behind, pinning your arms down with his as you flayed your legs to escape. He was strong. Too strong. You finally stopped fighting when you felt the cold steel along your throat.

“Give it up Winchester or she dies,” your aggressor stated.

You caught a glimpse of the fight between the cop and your patient. It was brutal and bloody as your patient stabbed Tony in the chest with a similar looking blade. He got up with a murderous look. You weren’t sure who to be more scared of in the moment, but your gut told you that this Winchester guy was going to win.

“Let her go,” he warned. “I won’t ask twice.”

“Crowley wants you. You can come peacefully or her blood can be on your hands,” he pushed the blade closer to your neck, cutting it just enough that you felt blood drip.

In a swift motion Winchester threw the blade and it went right past your head into the skull of your aggressor. His blade cut a little deeper as he fell down and you stumbled forward as his grip fell.

You grabbed at your neck and looked at your hand that now had blood on it. Winchester got down on his knees and examined you, asking if you were alright.

“No!” you yelled as you pushed him away and got up. “What the hell were those guys?”

“Demons,” he replied. “I told you.”

“Demons aren’t real!” you screamed as you went and grabbed a towel from your kitchen to hold against the wound on your neck.

“They are,” he snapped back in annoyance. “You saw their eyes and the fact that you emptied the chamber in that guy and he didn’t drop dead.”

“This is so fucked up,” you breathed out, not knowing what to think.

“Welcome to my life,” he laughed. “And more will be coming. We got to go.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you!”

“Fine, you explain the dead cop and the guy you shot 15 times to the authorities,” he snapped back. “That is if more demons don’t get here first.”

You took a deep breath as you looked around. Fucker was right. How could you even possibly explain this and the gun had your fingerprints all over it. Not only that, but whatever happened to those guys, demonic possession or not, there was no way you could defend yourself alone. This was one of those no win situations that you had to make a decision about quickly.

He was already picking up the weapons and rummaging through their pockets, taking out any cash he found. You picked up the gun that was on the floor next to him. He looked over at you with a cocked up brow.

“Where do we even go?” you asked.

“Anywhere,” he replied with solemnness to his voice, almost as if he felt bad about the situation that you were now in. “Grab a bunch of clothes and anything you care about. I’m going to grab what I can from your kitchen to get us by for now, but tomorrow, we need you to empty out any accounts you have because you will never be able to go back to this life again.”

You nodded that you understood as you moved to go upstairs to your bedroom. Once there, the tears rolled out as you grabbed as much of your stuff you could fit into your suitcase and book bag. after changing into non bloody comfy clothes. The only real personal thing that you took with you was a photobook, to at least remember the life you once had.

“Ready?” he stated as you descended down the stairs.

You nodded as you looked back at your home that was now a crime scene. Another tear rolled out as you walked a little slower to the door.

“It’s just stuff,” he said as he opened up the door for you.

You glared at him hard as you walked past him, hissing ‘fuck you’ as you walked out and towards the car.

“Well this is going to be fun,” he snakred as he shut the door not only to your house, but your life.

The Angels & Demons - @ezilyamuzed @daughterofthenight117 @redlipstickandthewinchesters @chocolateheart @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog@ain-t-bovvered @ladysparkles78@waywardbaby@nanie5 @ladywinchesterslibrary @candy-coated-misery0731 @stoneyggirl2 @deans-spinster-witch @globetrotter28 @@leigh70 @deans-baby-momma @akshi8278 @hobby27 @jaylarkson @ladywinchester1967 @sonotalice @krazykelly @drakelover78 @19agbrown @pisces-cutie @aloneanddesperate-blog @midnightsilver @dean-winchesters-bacon @waywardnerd67 @bobasheebaby

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