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dingusfreakhxrrington · 1 year

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A Test Of Faith

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader

summary: to test the BAU, a bold unsub abducts one of their members and sends the team on a wild goose chase. with reckless decisions and personal feelings taking hold, will the team be able to save one of their own or will their faith in each other come crumbling down?

warnings: mentions of kidnapping, mentions of drugs, canon-typical violence, mentions of blood, mentions of death, mentions of injury, angst, 3rd person, slight fluff, minor cursing

word count: 7k

a/n: this isn’t proofread so i’m sorry for any mistakes!

part two (coming soon)

read on ao3

friendly reminder that comments and reblogs are just as (if not more than) important as likes!

“Hey, has anyone seen y/n this morning?” Reid asked with a frown as he entered the bullpen, hanging his bag over the back of his chair.

“She’s not here yet, why?”

His face only scrunched up further at Morgan’s words. He knew it was unusual for her to be late to work, let alone skip out on plans at the last minute. “It’s just, we were supposed to get coffee this morning but she didn’t show.”

Morgan shrugged. “Maybe she overslept?”

“Maybe…”

He wanted to believe it because the alternative, which had already begun to play on his mind, was much worse. Still, he couldn’t ignore the feeling that was starting to settle into the bottom of his stomach. That uneasy feeling which had taken hold before he’d even left the coffee shop where they were supposed to meet.

Something was wrong. He knew that even before the box arrived.

It was delivered by courier directly to the office. The only indicator of who it was for was in thick, red marker across the top of the box which spelt out nothing but ‘BAU’. The handwriting was neat but unnecessarily large.

Morgan held the box, inspecting it as Reid and Prentiss peered over his shoulders.

“What is it?” Emily questioned, waiting for Morgan to open the package.

“Nothing good.” All eyes turned to their superior as he approached, holding up a letter written in the same red ink that decorated the box.

Hotchner passed the note to Prentiss, allowing her to read it to the rest of the team. “‘For Agent Hotchner at the BAU. A package will arrive not long after you read this, I suggest you gather your team and prepare for the game’?”

“Game? What game?”

Reid furrowed his brows at Morgan’s question, already trying to piece together what was going on. “You don’t think this has anything to do with why y/n is late, do you?”

“I don’t know, but what I do know is that we’re going to need the whole team on this. Reid, try to get in contact with y/n and find out where she is. Prentiss, gather the others. I want everyone in the briefing room within the next five minutes.”

Just like that, the group dispersed and, within minutes, they assembled again for the briefing.

“Still no y/n?”

Reid shook his head as he pushed his phone back into his pocket. “She isn’t answering her phone.”

“No matter, we’ll have to catch her up when she gets here. We can’t waste any more time, we need to know what’s inside the box,” Hotch sighed and signalled for Morgan to finally open it up.

The team watched on anxiously, worried about the contents of the package they’d received. More often than not, packages with notes such as the one they’d received were a little more than unpleasant.

The one thing that gave them hope, was the fact that no blood seemed to be staining the cardboard from the inside. Although that didn’t mean there wasn’t a victim’s body part inside

“A CD?” Morgan frowned when he revealed its contents, only growing more curious as he checked both the front and back of the case.

It was Electra Heart by Marina and the Diamonds, not that anyone thought that detail was of any particular importance.

“Could just be a case the unsub is using to protect the disc. It’s most likely a video,” JJ gave her input as she reached out for the disc before moving to play it on the screen.

The room was silent as she prepared the video, nervous to find out what was on it.

Would it be a video of the unsub? Perhaps a video of them committing a crime? Murder? Torture? Assault? Something else altogether? Or had it really just been a prank? Was it really just an album?

“Oh god-” Garcia gasped, hands moving to cover her mouth the moment the video began to play, tears already pricking in the corner of her startled eyes.

That uneasy feeling in Reid’s gut only grew stronger, twisting and turning until it became all that consumed him. It had never been this bad before, not even when he himself was the one in danger. He was terrified.

Terrified for her.

There she was. Y/n, the agent who had not been late to work but abducted by their unsub. Taken in the dead of night to become a pawn in his sick game.

She was standing, just barely, with nothing but the chains around her wrists holding her up. Half-dried blood stained her forehead and matted her hair. The video only lasted for fifty-five seconds. Fifty-five seconds of nothing but her hanging there, feet barely on the ground. She was conscious but only just, likely concussed from the wound on her head.

“She’s been struck around the head, likely to incapacitate her before she could fight back during the abduction,” Morgan identified, eyes trained on the video.

“The unsub knows what he’s doing. There isn’t anything in the video that could indicate where she is,” Rossi added as he perched down on the end of the table to examine the paused video further.

Hotch hummed as he too was glued to the screen. “She can’t be far, she must have been abducted sometime since leaving here yesterday and this morning. Most likely during the night.”

JJ turned from the screen, unable to watch any longer. “We left at the same time last night and it’s unlikely she would have stopped on her way home.”

“Can we stop talking about her like she’s some random victim? This is y/n we’re talking about,” Reid snapped, drawing all eyes to him.

Each new comment in the discussion had been piling up until he just couldn’t take it anymore. This wasn’t just some case, nor was it any other victim. This was y/n — their friend.

“Reid, we know she isn’t just any victim but we have to look at this like we would any other case. It’s the only way we’re going to find her,” Morgan reminded, hoping to ease Reid at least a little.

“JJ, play the video again. We need to look for anything that could help us figure out where they are and Reid, I need you to focus. We’re going to need your brain on this.”

The youngest of them nodded, heeding Hotch’s words. This was just a game to the unsub — a game he’d made specifically for the BAU team. They were the only ones who could save her, he knew that.

“Hey, there’s something else in here. Looks like a note, taped to the inside of the box,” Prentiss announced before JJ had a chance to replay the video.

“What is it?” Reid was the first to jump at the new information, hoping it would be a better indication of where their missing friend was than the video.

Prentiss carefully tore the note from the box and began to read it out loud, “It’s a riddle. ‘I have cities, but no houses. I have mountains but no trees. I have water but no fish. What am I?’”

“A map,” Reid concluded after only a brief moment of pause, “It’s a map.”

“A map? I don’t see any kind of map here.” Morgan gestured at the now empty package before crossing his arms over his chest. He knew the wonder boy was right but he still couldn’t understand what the riddle could mean.

Hotch too seemed to be running circles in his head, unsure of what their unsub was trying to point them to. “Does it say anything else?”

Emily looked up from the note with troubled eyes as she voiced the final part, “Find her by midnight and she’ll live. Good luck, Agents.”

As if on cue, Reid vocalised the conclusion he had come to in his head, jumping to his feet like he was about to rush there himself without a second thought. “The Marina.”

“You think the unsub is holding her at the Marina?”

“I think it’s the only indication of a map I can find in all this. Marina and the Diamonds? The unsub didn’t choose that album without reason.”

Hotch hummed, seemingly agreeing with Reid’s deduction, and began to give directions. “Okay. Morgan, Prentiss and Rossi will come with me to the Marina. JJ, I need you and Reid to watch the video again. Look for anything we might have missed in case we’re wrong. And Garcia, I need you to track down exactly who delivered the package and where they delivered it from.”

Everyone got to their feet, springing into action as they would on any other case. They all knew their part to play and knew it was vital in locating their missing team member. Everyone other than Reid, who was less than happy to have been told to stay behind.

“No, I’m going with you.”

“Reid…” Hotch turned to him with a hand to his brow, already anticipating the headache that was to come if he continued to clash with the young doctor.

“No,” he cut him off again, “This is not negotiable. I’m going to the Marina with you.”

With a sigh, the unit chief gave in, knowing there was little he could do to keep Reid in the office. “Okay, Reid you’re with us. Prentiss, you stay here with JJ. Call us the moment you find anything.”

𓆩♡𓆪

Spencer had been restless the entire ride there. His hands were fidgety in his lap, his nails occasionally digging into the skin of his palms. He was stressed and more on edge than the rest of the team, not that anyone had expected any less.

Everyone knew that Reid had had a budding crush on y/n since she joined the BAU. Not that he’d ever acted on it. Morgan teased him about it constantly, comparing it to a schoolboy crush. Only, it wasn’t just a schoolboy crush. Not anymore.

The longer they had gotten to know one another, the closer y/n and Reid became. He felt as though she was the only one who really saw him, not that the rest of the team didn’t care greatly for him. She just understood him better than anyone else.

So, to say it was a simple crush would be a lie. He was in love with her. How couldn’t he be? She was pretty and funny and kind and a great agent. She saw him for who he really was and accepted every part of him. She stood up for him when the team teased him about his rambling. She always listened so intently, never once cutting him off no matter what it was he was talking about.

He was in love with her but now, he feared more than ever that he was about to lose her.

“She’s going to be okay, Reid,” Morgan comforted from the seat beside him, squeezing Reid’s shoulder as if the gesture would ease his fear.

Nothing would ease it. Not until she was safe.

It wasn’t like Reid to doubt himself. He knew he was right about the riddle, he had to be, yet he was still starting to wonder what would happen if he was wrong.

They only had until midnight. There was no time to spare and if he was wrong about this they might just lose her.

“I know,” he lied, trying to mask his true feelings.

Morgan sighed, seeing through Reid’s weak façade. No matter what he said or did, it hadn’t stopped his legs from bouncing or his hands from shaking.

The moment they arrived, Reid was fast to get out of the van. Too enthusiastic about rushing in headfirst to save her. He glanced around, taking in the fresh air as if his lungs had been deprived for hours.

“Spread out and search the area,” Hotch ordered and the team nodded, checking their vests one last time before pulling out their guns for the sweep.

They searched almost everywhere but found nothing. No sign that y/n or the unsub had ever been there. It was just a Marina and none of the boats there were big enough to fit the room they’d seen in the video.

Reid was beginning to believe that he really was wrong, that he had just wasted time they didn’t have on a hunch. Well, he was beginning to lose hope until Rossi called the team over to his location.

With a fast-beating heart, Reid ran as fast as he could manage to see what Rossi had found. He prayed it was her and that she was safe — that it was over.

Disappointment was not quite the right word for his feelings when he arrived and saw she wasn’t there because something was there. Another note, written in that same red marker.

“‘So you figured it out. Well done, agents. I hate to disappoint but your missing agent isn’t here but I hope this gift will help keep you on the trail’?” Rossi read the letter aloud before turning it over to find a USB taped to the other side.

“He’s playing with us.” Morgan shook his head, already growing tired of the unsub’s game.

“Or testing us,” Reid argued, “He’s referred to us as ‘agents’ in every note so far. It’s like he’s-”

“A part of the bureau,” Hotch finished for him, drawing the same conclusion, “Likely an ex-agent or even an ex-recruit.”

Morgan’s brow creased and he asked, “By why us? Why is he testing us? And why did he take y/n? He could have taken any one of us, why her?”

“Because she’s the newest member of the BAU. Maybe he doesn’t see her as an official member of the team yet?” Queried Reid.

“Or he just thought she’d be the easiest to abduct because she’s less experienced,” Rossi added.

“Whatever the reason, we don’t have a lot of time. The unsub must have had base access to use the marina. Reid, Morgan, I need you to speak with the workers here. See if they’ve seen anyone strange and ask for records to find out who owns this boat. We’ll head back to check in with the rest of the team and get this to Garcia.” Hotch held up the USB, knowing Garcia was the safest person to give it to as there was no way to know what would be on it.

𓆩♡𓆪

“Anything?”

“No, you?”

Reid shrugged. “Not much but I did get a name for the boat owner. Rudd Richardson.”

“Did you run it by Garcia?”

“Yeah, Rudd Richardson died three years ago.”

Morgan hummed in thought. “So our unsub is using a dead man’s name?”

“Maybe. Garcia is looking for any other property that is still registered in his name but she hasn’t been able to find anything yet and it doesn’t look like the unsub has taken Richardson’s identity.”

Their discussion was cut short when Reid’s phone began to ring.

“Garcia?”

He shook his head, looking up from his phone in disbelief. “No. It’s y/n.”

Right away Morgan pulled out his cell to call Garcia. If it really was y/n or even the unsub they would need her to trace the call.

“Y/n?” Questioned Reid as he put the phone on speaker, his voice already settling into a tone of urgency.

The line was silent but the trace had already begun, all they needed to do now was keep them on the phone.

After a brief moment of static, a weak voice finally spoke from the other side, “Reid?”

“Y/n! Y/n, can you tell us where you are? Are you alright?” He spoke at a hundred miles a minute, desperate to know she was okay.

Static again as the phone on the other end seemed to move from one ear to another.

The young doctor gulped as another voice began to speak, “She knew you would figure it out… The first clue. Let’s see how quickly you figure out the rest. The sands of time are forever slipping…”

The voice was dark and warped, spoken through a voice-changing device. Its sinister vibrations sent a chill up Spencer’s spine.

“Wait! Y/n!”

“Dammit,” Morgan spoke bitterly, knowing the call had not been long enough to give them any hint on their location, “He’s taunting us.”

“We need to get back to the others. He said this was the first clue, the USB must be the next.”

Morgan sighed. “We have to play his game. Or we may never find her…”

𓆩♡𓆪

“Please tell me you guys have got something,” Morgan asked while looking down at his watch.

There was still time but there was no way to know if the unsub would stay true to his word.

“Nothing yet. The USB locked Garcia out of the system the moment she plugged it in, she’s trying to regain access now,” JJ explained with a sigh before turning her attention back to the files in her hands.

Reid was only growing more anxious and began fishing for anything else that could be of use. “What about the video?”

“Nothing. We’ve watched it a hundred times but there’s nothing in it that could tell us where they are.” Prentiss chimed in as she too walked over with a new batch of files.

“So what do we do? We can’t just sit around and wait for Garcia to get the system up and running again.”

JJ split the files he was holding into three before passing a pile out to Reid and Morgan. “I know you’re worried, Spence. We all are but there isn’t a lot we can do right now. Until she gets back in all we really can do is look at these files to see if anyone fits the profile.”

“Profile? We’ve got a profile?” Morgan questioned as he began to flick through the files.

“Well, Hotch told us you think it’s an ex-agent or recruit but other than that we don’t really have a lot to go on so right now we’re just looking for anyone that sticks out.”

Reid dropped the files down onto the desk with a scoff, “We’re looking for a needle in a haystack. This isn’t going to get us anywhere.”

“It’s better than sitting around twiddling our thumbs.” Morgan shrugged.

“Look, Reid, if you don’t want to look through the files then go help Hotch and Rossi. They’re looking for anywhere she could be being held. Warehouses, storerooms, abandoned homes. Look for anything and everything and start making it down.”

He only grew more frustrated as he listened to Prentiss. “So if we run out of time we’re just going to start knocking on doors until we find her?”

“We don’t really have any other choice right now. Not until Garcia gets back into the system. He’s testing us, right? So this is probably just another test. She’s got this.”

Like Morgan, Reid also had full faith that Garcia would get back into the system but he was worried about how long it would take her to do so. They were on the clock and every second they spent sitting around waiting for her would only bring them closer to their deadline.

So, to try and ease his mind, Spencer decided to go help Hotch and Rossi in the hope that it would help bring them closer to finding y/n.

𓆩♡𓆪

“I’m back in. I’m back in!” Garcia cried out and soon the team were rushing into her office.

It had been no longer than an hour but that was still an hour they didn’t have to spare in the first place.

She tapped away on her keyboard, eyes flickering across the screen at the speed of light as she searched for any trace of what the unsub had tried to achieve by locking her out of her own system.

“He’s watching us,” she announced when her tapping fingers finally began to calm down, “I don’t think I can remove him from the system, not from my end anyway. I had to reboot the whole thing just to get back in. It’s amazing he’s even still here.”

“So he can see everything we do?” Rossi questioned, wanting to know exactly what the unsub was able to do with his access to the system.

Garcia hummed, “Yep. Well, he can see through our webcams but he doesn’t have access to my screen. That was a nasty piece of malware but it won’t give him access to any of my files.”

Just as Hotch opened his mouth to speak, a notification sound rang from the speakers and a message popped up on the screen. It was typed out rather than written but the red colour still prevailed.

‘Well done, Agents. You’ve cracked the code and earned your next clue: I can’t be bought, but I can be stolen with a glance. I’m worthless to one, but priceless to two. What am I?’

“Love… the answer is love,” Reid announced with a tightening heart.

“But what does that mean? Love, what kind of a clue is that?” Morgan complained, once again growing tired of the game they were being forced to play.

Prentiss hummed in thought for a moment before asking, “What about wedding venues? A church maybe?”

“Or some kind of date spot? A restaurant?” JJ added.

Before long, everyone was throwing out ideas but nothing was clicking.

Hotch was the first to catch onto the lead again. “Garcia, see if Mr Richardson was married.”

“Okay.” The tech-whiz complied and began tapping away on her keyboard again.

Within only a few short seconds she had her answer. “He married Triss Anderson in 1984 but she died during childbirth over twenty years ago.”

“What about their child?” Morgan prompted, drawing at any loose threads.

Her eyes flicked over the screen again as she searched for the information. “They had a daughter. She’s living here in Quantico, only a few blocks away from here actually.”

“Okay, let’s go.”

𓆩♡𓆪

“No car,” Prentiss stated as they approached the house.

Rossi stepped up to the door while Reid and Morgan peered in through the windows.

“Look’s like no one’s home,” Morgan sighed.

Still, Rossi tried the door. “Miss Richardson?”

When no response came, he banged again.

“You’re looking for Jen?” They turned around to the neighbour, eager to hear what she had to say. “She left for vacation just over a week ago. I’m Michelle, I live across the street. Maybe I can help you?”

“Do you know when she’s supposed to come home?” Reid questioned, worried they had wasted their time.

Michelle thought for a moment before replying, “Actually, now that you mention it I think she was due back last night.”

“So she hasn’t come home?” Asked Prentiss as she hurriedly pulled out her phone.

“No, I guess not. You don’t think anything has happened to her, do you?”

As Rossi began to reassure Miss Richardson’s neighbour, the others quickly headed back to the van.

Prentiss held her phone to her ear, exchanging a worried glance with Morgan as she spoke with the unit chief, “Hotch, we might have another missing person on our hands.”

“Are you Spencer Reid?”

Spencer turned from the van just before opening the door to find a young boy standing behind him.

“Yeah, you know me?”

The child shook his head and shyly held out a piece of paper and pointed down the street with his free hand. “That man over there told me to give this to you.”

As he took the paper, Spencer quickly looked in the direction the boy was pointing but whoever may have been there had long since gone.

“Thank you, kid. Get home safe now, okay?” Morgan had to speak for him while Reid examined the note.

“It’s an address, Morgan. He’s given us an address.”

𓆩♡𓆪

Wasting no time, the group headed for the address on the note. Garcia ran it through the system and found it to be an empty home, one currently up for sale.

It was the perfect place for the unsub to hold them, although Morgan still doubted the nature of the note. It didn’t make sense for him to just give them the answer now. Not after making them jump through hoops to so much as obtain a single clue.

“Reid, wait,” he reached out for the youngest, holding him back from rushing straight inside, “We don’t know what we’re going to find in there.”

“We can’t wait, what if y/n is in there?” Reid was quick to shake him off, desperate to find her.

Morgan sighed as he pulled out his gun. “The unsub could be in there too, just don’t do anything rash.”

Spencer was the first to the door. He stood ready as Morgan exchanged one quick, affirmative glance with Rossi before kicking down the door.

In the blink of an eye, all four agents infiltrated the home and began to cautiously clear each room.

“Clear!” Prentiss called out from the bathroom as Morgan and Reid began to scale the stairs.

She slowly approached the bedroom, knowing it was the last room to check. If they were going to find anything, it was going to be in there.

When Morgan and Reid were close enough behind her to have her back, she reached for the handle and quickly opened the door.

She checked every corner of the room before giving the all-clear but something was wrong. Her voice was quiet, choked even, as she entered the room.

Morgan turned to Reid, not knowing what to do other than keep him away to stop him from looking inside but he was too late, he’d already caught a glimpse of what was waiting for them inside.

“Y/n? Y/n!” he cried as he rushed towards the room, shoving past Morgan who moved to stop him.

In the middle of the empty room was a body. A woman wearing clothes Reid recognised. She was lifeless and stained in blood. When his hands shakily reached out to her, he felt the coldness of her skin on the tips of his fingers.

He couldn’t think, he couldn’t breathe.

He got back up, unable to bring himself to look at her face – to turn her over and come face-to-face with her void eyes.

Everything was a blur, all of his senses going dull as Morgan moved to further inspect the body.

Emily too was standing near the door as if she were frozen in place with her hand covering her mouth.

Slowly, Morgan rolled the body over onto its back. He was quiet, almost too quiet, before he finally released the breath he had been holding.

“It’s not her.”

𓆩♡𓆪

“Jena Richardson, daughter of Rodd Richardson. A twenty-six-year-old entrepreneur. She was supposed to go on vacation to Europe eight days ago,” Garcia read through the information she had discovered about the woman.

“He chose her for a reason. He did all of this for a reason. Been planning it for a while too.”

Hotch hummed in agreement with Morgan. “He took Miss Richardson before she had a chance to leave for her vacation, she never left. Her bags are likely still inside her home.”

“And when he took y/n, he stole some of her clothes to dress the victim in so that we would think it was her. That’s why he chose the victim… because she looked like y/n,” Prentiss concluded.

The whole team had gathered in the briefing room again, discussing their next course of action.

“There was nothing else on the body or in the house? No next clue? Nothing to tell us where he might be holding her?” Hotch questioned, hopeful that there would have been something — anything.

Prentiss shook her head. There was nothing. Nothing at all. They had searched everywhere. Every single inch of that house but there was nothing there. Nothing but the body.

“Then we’ll have to wait for the coroner’s report, maybe the unsub left a clue for us there.”

“No, we don’t have time to wait. We only have a few hours left. There has to be something we’re missing.” Reid began to pace the room, running through everything they’d discovered so far in his head.

“Reid,” Morgan began, “We’ve run out of options but we still have time.”

The young doctor only began to shake his head, his eyes glaring in disbelief that his team could even suggest to sit around and wait while y/n was in danger. “No, we don’t. We have hours and if we just keep sitting around waiting she’s going to die.”

Just like that, he was storming out of the briefing room and, while Hotch gave new directions to the rest of the team, JJ jumped up to go after him.

“Spence!”

“If you’re just going to tell me to sit tight and wait like everyone else you’re wasting your breath.”

She understood how he was feeling because she knew how he felt about y/n. She knew it was a fool's errand trying to calm him down or convince him everything was going to be alright. All she wanted to do was be there for him when hope began to fade.

“Where are you going?”

He tugged at his collar, his fingers moving to loosen his tie in a desperate attempt to breathe. “I need some air.”

She let it be as he rushed through the bullpen, heading straight for the elevator. If she had left a moment earlier, she wouldn’t have heard the sound of a text coming through on his phone as the elevator doors began to close.

His eyes widened as he read the message, one that had come through from her: ‘It’s funny, isn’t it? Love? When you lose the thing you love, there isn’t anything you wouldn’t do to be reunited with it. That’s what I did, you know. I reunited Miss Richardson with her beloved father. Now I’m giving you the chance to be reunited with the one you love, so long as you come alone.’

Another text came through by the time he reached the bottom of the building. Another address.

𓆩♡𓆪

“Where’s Reid?”

JJ looked up from her paperwork and glanced out into the bullpen. “He’s not back yet?”

Morgan frowned. “No. Where did he go?”

“He said he needed to get some air but he should have been back by now,” she explained as she stood up, realising what had happened, “Shit.”

“What?”

“He got a text before he got into the elevator.”

Morgan was already half out of the room by the time she finished her sentence. “The unsub.”

The two of them all but ran to the rest of their team, already gathering their things to leave as questions started flooding in.

“Reid’s gone after him,” Morgan announced as the rest of the team gathered their equipment and began to head for the door.

“Alone?” Prentiss furrowed her brows, she had hoped he would have known better than that.

JJ stuttered, still in disbelief, “H-He said he was just going outside to get some air.”

Hotch was already pointing Garcia back into her office before she’d even made it through the door. “Garcia I need you to find Reid’s car. Tell us the moment you know what direction he was headed.”

“Y-yes, sir.”

Everyone was in hyperdrive, working against the clock to find Reid and y/n before it was too late. They were already in the SUVs, splitting into two groups before they even had any information on where he was going.

𓆩♡𓆪

There he stood, outside a property that they never would have even considered including during their search for it was not empty or abandoned but rather a home. A home that seemed well lived in from the moment he stepped inside.

No one was there. Not a single soul. Yet every surface was decorated with family pictures. A mother, father and son. A happy family.

From the photos, the son seemed to be no older than four and all Reid could do was hope nothing bad had happened to him or his family.

With his gun raised, he slowly made his way through the house until he reached the door he was looking for — the door to the basement.

Quietly, he descended into the darkest depths of the house. The stairs barely made a creak and, by the time he could see into the room, he saw her.

“Welcome, Doctor Reid.”

The man was standing beside her, face half-hidden in the shadows. He had a knife and held it firmly near her stomach in a silent threat.

“Let her go,” Reid demanded, although when the unsub did not budge, he opted for negotiation over immediate violence.

Stepping from the shadows, the unsub revealed himself. Reid recognised him the moment the dull light illuminated his features. He was the father in the photos upstairs but he was older now and more unkept than he appeared in the pictures.

“I don’t know what happened to your family but please, you have to let her go,” he pleaded again, eyes flickering over to y/n.

Other than the injuries she had sustained during the abduction, she seemed okay but he noticed how weak she seemed. Her injuries were not bad enough to be the cause of her drowsy state. The unsub may not have harmed her further but it seemed likely she had been drugged.

“Reid…” she spoke in a quiet voice, her hooded eyes barely open as she looked at him, struggling to lift her head.

The unsub looked between them with a smile as if he was truly happy to see them this way. “Young love, isn’t it so precious?”

“What do you want?”

“Me? No, this isn’t about what I want. This is about what you want,” the unsub looked at y/n as she stood half-dangling beside him and pointed, “Her. You want her, don’t you?”

Reid raised his gun again, finger resting on the trigger the moment the man drew closer to her.

“You lost your family,” he stated, gaining the unsub’s attention once again, “Your wife and son. You lost them, didn’t you?”

Hesitantly, the man nodded. “They were taken from me, just as she was taken from you. In the night while I was away.”

“You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to hurt her. It won’t bring them back.”

“Oh, but I do. When I sent my case to the BAU, you turned it down. It wasn’t a serial killer or a professional hit. Just a burglary gone wrong. I was at work when it happened, out late on the job. I wanted to join the FBI, you know? I was a recruit.”

The more he explained, the more Spencer began to understand. The unsub’s connection to the BAU, and the resentment he held for them. The loss of his family had driven him to his breaking point and he blamed them for not finding the killer.

Why had he taken y/n? Well, it wasn’t because she was a newer member of the BAU or because she was less experienced than the others but because somehow he knew. He knew how Spencer felt about her and he wanted to show a member of the BAU the same pain he felt when he lost his family.

“Please, just put the knife down. It doesn’t have to end this way.”

The unsub held the knife tighter than before, raising it to her neck. “Oh, but it does. I want you to do it. I want you to reunite me with them. Send me to them, please. If you refuse, I’ll take her from you just as they were taken from me.”

Reid shook his head, refusing to play his twisted game any longer. “Put the knife down.”

“I hoped it could have been different.”

Time seemed to move in slow motion as the unsub lifted his arm, angling the knife back onto her abdomen as he swung it down.

“No!”

𓆩♡𓆪

“Garcia, you’re sure he’s here?”

The technical analyst hummed over the line. “Positive.”

“I see his car,” JJ announced as she climbed out of the SUV, already rushing toward the house.

The team approached the building with caution, not wanting to rush in and startle the unsub into doing anything rash. They knew Reid was inside but they didn’t want to put him in any more danger.

Only, before they even reached the front door, they heard a gunshot and all caution flew to the wind as Morgan kicked down the door and burst inside.

They cleared each room before reaching the entrance to the basement and, upon hearing footsteps approaching, all guns were aimed at the door. They stood their ground, ready for whatever they were to face but when the door finally opened, all anyone could do was breathe a sigh of relief.

“Reid!” Morgan was by his side the moment he stepped through the door with her in his arms.

Hotch saw the spattering of blood that stained her clothes and looked into his eye. With just an exchanged glance, he knew what had transpired.

The unsub was dead. It was finally over.

Despite Morgan’s offer for help, Spencer carried her all the way outside to the paramedics. He stayed with her still as they lifted her into the ambulance. She was out of it, barely aware of what was going on.

“Go with them, we’ll meet you there.”

Reid offered a subtle nod to his unit chief, thankful that he was allowing him to accompany her to the hospital.

𓆩♡𓆪

Quiet beeps echoed through the room, the sound of the monitor that continued to track the beats of her heart.

Reid sat waiting, hands fidgeting as he bounced his leg.

“The doctor said she’s going to be fine, relax a little,” Morgan comforted with a gentle hand on Reid’s shoulder.

The youngest glanced up at his friend before his eyes flickered back over to her. “I can’t relax. Not until she wakes up. Not until I know she’s okay.”

From the moment the doctor had told them it was okay to wait with her in her room, Spencer had been by her side. The time he had spent in the waiting room before was agonising and he had felt relief when the doctor told them she just needed time to recover. Still, he couldn’t help but worry about her, not when he had been through something similar before. Kidnapped, tortured, and drugged.

He was thankful this unsub had seemed to skip the torture but he could still sympathise with how she was feeling. She had been taken from her own home. He could only imagine how scared she must have been.

When she finally began to stir and her eyes finally fluttered awake, he was on his feet again. “Y/n? How are you feeling?”

Morgan chuckled, “Come on kid, give her a second to wake up before you jump her with questions.”

Spencer was already holding her hand, his thumb rubbing gently across the back of it as he smiled.

“Spence?”

He nodded as she slowly came to, squeezing her hand a little just to make sure she knew he was really there — that she was safe now.

“I’ll go let the others know she’s awake,” Morgan excused himself, leaving the two of them to talk alone.

“What… What happened?”

He gulped and stuttered slightly as he answered, “Y-you were kidnapped.”

She closed her eyes again and nodded, recalling the events that had transpired as well as she could remember them. “You saved me. Thank you.”

With a small smile, he nodded.

It was quiet for a moment and all she could focus on was the warmth of his hand. Soon, he too realised he was still holding her hand and quickly let go as he cleared his throat to speak.

“So, how are you feeling?” he repeated his earlier words, eager to hear how she was holding up.

She couldn’t help but chuckle. “Honestly? Like shit. My head is killing and I think I might still be a little high.”

Spencer was now the one laughing at her remark, thankful that she was well enough to make light of the situation. “Yeah, that’s probably the painkillers the doctor gave you. Must be a pretty bad concussion if your head is still hurting.”

“Yeah, well it could have been a lot worse…”

The mood soured again with her words as the two of them were reminded of just how badly things could have gone had Reid not found her when he did.

“I knew it was going to be okay, you know. When I saw you I just… I knew I was safe.”

Though she smiled, it was her eyes that conveyed all he needed to know. Everything she’d never spoken aloud, everything she wanted to say but could never bring herself to do so. It was the first time he’d truly felt it, the way she felt for him. The first time he’d realised that she cared about him as much as he cared about her.

A test of faith had brought them together, breaking the boundary between them.

Spencer stepped closer again, leaning towards her as he took her hand in his again. With his other, he brushed her hair from her face, fingers lingering on her skin as time froze still.

Their quiet moment together would soon be broken when the door opened and the rest of the team flooded in to see how she was but, for just one moment, they were the only two people in the world.

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ourautumn86 · 20 days

Text

puppy love pt.2

shane mccutcheon x fem! reader

pt.1

summary; shane had showed you real pleasure. but now she was just a mere ghost, haunting you.

cw; +18 content! minors dni!!!, heavy use of drugs and alcohol, hookups (r has sex with another girl), fighting, teasing, tension!!, groping, piercings, tit playing, nipple sucking (both receiving), kinda switch shane but goes back to being dom, oral sex! (shane receiving), hair pulling (both receiving), fingering (both receiving), hickeys, making out, dirty talking, praising, use of good girl, cum eating, choking (r receiving), orgasm delay (r receiving), scissoring, multiple orgasms, breeding kink??…

something you should’ve expected from shane mcutcheon was that she would run away. but against your better judgement you still had hopes that she wouldn’t. that this would have meant something. silly of you to think it would.

she had made you cum. she had fucked you. she had showed you what real pleasure felt like and then she had dipped.

left you there for you to drown in your thoughts. and in alcohol.

“woah, woah. take it easy.” your friend charlotte, from the group you’ve gone out partying, tried to stop you from taking another swing from your drink. of course, that was an uneasy task.

you hadn’t been this off tracks since your teenage years. you were drowning glass after glass of liquor, cups that men and women would buy for you. it was quite easy to let them…

even easier to fall into the arms of a beautiful woman with black wavy hair and caramel eyes. her hands were warm, not like shane’s ice cold ones, and her kisses were soft, not like shane’s, which had knocked your breath out of your lungs.

why were you still thinking about her?

she was beautiful. and kind. and seemed to really like you. and the coke she had offered you only made it all seem better.

you pushed her closer, kissed her harder, until her tongue was breaching your lips and her touch became rougher, grabbing at your ass and making you moan.

yes. this was what you needed.

“come with me.” you muttered against her lips, taking her hand and pulling from her towards the club’s bathrooms, which oddly enough were empty. you kissed her as you walked her into one of the cubicles, closing the door behind your back and locking it. you were high out of your mind. and so drunk everything looked like in a daydream. you two made out until your lungs were pleading for oxygen and she was getting on her knees, pushing up your dress and pulling aside you panties to dive in between your thighs. you sighed at the feeling of her tongue, your back pressed against one of the walls of the bathroom stalls. you were sure this wasn’t the first indecent act they’ve seen before. and as good as it felt… you couldn’t feel good. not when she sucked on your clit, or when her fingers pushed inside to fuck you open.

so after a while, you started to fake it. so it could just be over and you could get back to drinking. or maybe finally get home. who cares.

lucky enough your seemed to be good at faking your orgasm, ‘cause she was smiling against your lips once she had gotten back on her feet. “let me buy you another drink, hm?” she offered.

and once again, you couldn’t say no.

you were absolutely and utterly fucked up. you couldn’t even walk straight. and if you could even think, you’d for sure wonder how were you even walking right now.

“come on, we’re almost there.” that sultry soft voice filled your ears.

oh yeah, maybe it was because of the gentle hands that kept you upright.

you looked at your right, and her greenish eyes were staring straight as you. you scoffed. “not you…” more like slurred.

of course it would be shane mccutcheon.

“what are you doing here?” you inquired her, feeling her touch burn your skin there where she held you.

“you’re fucked up.” she ignored you, and you laughed, shaking your head on a nod that had you feeling dizzy.

how she had found you? you had no idea. maybe it had to be with marina ferrer, her friend’s local that you had ended up on this late in the middle of the night, sniffing coke until you felt your nose would start bleeding. you couldn’t really take a moment to think about that possibility at that moment. not when she looked so good.

“how much did you take?” she asked, and you laughed, shrugging your shoulders as you let her wide you up the stairs of her house’s porch.

“not enough it seems.” ‘cause you’re still here, and i can’t stop thinking about you and it’s killing me. you could’ve said. but instead you silenced yourself, watching her slide the key in the lock and open the door for the two of you. “i was having fun. you ruined it.” you sighed, your blown out eyes squinting at the intensity of the lights she had just turned on.

“what, with that girl you were with?” you looked at her, and her face looked serious, deadly even.

“actually yeah.”

“you fucked her?”

you scoffed, looking at her with an incredulous face. “why the fuck do you care?”

“did you. fuck her.” she repeated, slower and you took a deep breath.

“yeah. i did.” you stared at her unchanging face, her strong façade. you wanted to punch it to pieces. why was she asking about this? she had fucked you. you were just one more stupid girl on her list. so why?

“what did she do?” her voice broke the silence after a beat, maybe two. the air was thick.

“what?”

“you heard me. what did she do to you?” you huffed.

“you’re unbelievable.” you shook your head.

“i’m the unbelievable one? you were so sad that you went off and fucked some girl at the club?”

“i guess i’m fucked up like that.” you shrugged and she sighed. “reminds me of someone i know.” you smirked.

“you’re a fucking kid.”

“oh yeah? well you didn’t mind me being a kid when you were eating me out.”

“jesus christ.” she muttered and you rolled your eyes.

“im too high for this shit.” you went ahead and tried to scurry yourself away from her but she was quick enough to stop you, her strong grip surrounding your wrist. you were closer than before. you could smell her stupidly attractive perfume, see the little lines that decorated her face, the freckles she’d gotten due to the numerous summers under the sun…

“but not high enough to get fucked?” she spat, and you looked at her with an incredulous face. “did it feel good? did she make you cum? did she make you feel like i did?” your lips were sealed as she pushed you against the wall, her breath mangling with yours.

“and what if she did?” you inquired, your eyes on hers, and she smirked, her tongue poking the inside of her cheek. you gasped at the sudden feeling of one of her hands sliding in between your thighs, her fingertips trailing over the wet patch on your panties, which she had managed to create in just a couple of minutes. she hadn’t even touched you, jesus christ.

“but did she?” you bit down on your lip, feeling the painful need of an orgasm that never came. “poor thing. of course not. no one can make you feel like i do, isn’t that right, doll?” you let out a sigh as you felt her fingers rub up and down your sticky folds, drenching the cloth of your underwear.

“fuck you.” you spat and she chuckled.

“you wish.” she muttered just centimeters away from your lips. you unconsciously chased after her when she brushed her plump lips against yours, gasping as her free hand came up to surround your neck and keep you in place. you shivered when she found the crook on your neck and made her way up to your ear. “but you’ve already got that other girl to do that, don’t you?” and just like that she let go of you, leaving the air surrounding you now empty and cold on her absence. “left a pillow and a blanket for you on the sofa.” that was the last thing she said before closing the door of her room behind her back, not even giving you a goodbye.

and you just knew by the way your head was starting to pound that you’d have a hell of a hangover tomorrow morning.

next time you saw shane was while you were out partying. again. if you didn’t go out you’d be too deep into your head. it would mess you up. ‘cause you missed her. so fucking badly it was actually ripping you to pieces.

of course, it was a friday night. and you knew what that meant. you were at marina’s local, who welcomed you with a hug and a worried look on her face that you dismissed. she could see shane on your eyes, could feel her on your touch. she had branded you. and now you were following her steps. she just hoped history wouldn’t repeat itself this time.

“she’s here.” she muttered on your ear, more like a warning, a heads up. but you already knew that. shane indulged on a couple of drinks herself every friday. that’s why you’d come ready, on a tight black night dress that made your curves show and your tits almost overflow its cups. your heels were bloody red, just like your lips, and your eyes were smudged in black eyeliner, making them pop.

“thanks marina.” you gave her a sweet smile before wandering off into the crowd and perching yourself on the bar, asking for a couple of shots and a lemon vodka.

the alcohol burned your throat, warming up your body. by the time you threw yourself into the dancing crowd you could feel her eyes on you. you were the center of attention. you looked good, and you knew it. you talked and laughed, and danced with girls and boys until your feet hurt.

you didn’t know how many drinks you’ve had, but you felt lethargic and euphoric. you could feel the music seeping into your skin and vibrating your soul. your hips moved to the rhythm of the song, your back arching as you played with your hair. you had everyone on a trance, like a siren calling for the sailors, menacing with their drowning. but who could help themself? shane surely couldn’t.

she hated her guts. for being drawn to you, to the light like a moth would. but her hands had found your hips, and your warmth ignited her skin on fire. you always did this. always hung in front of her like the perfect bait, the perfect sin. and she wanted to sink her teeth into you, so badly…

you sighed when you felt her touch. you knew it was her. you could know her by touch alone. how couldn’t you? you could breath her.

your back rested against her chest, her mouth on your neck.

“everyone’s looking at you.” she muttered, and you chuckled, one of your hands lacing on her hair when she left a soft kiss on your suple skin.

“i just want you.” you said. there was alcohol running through your veins. but there was something about shane. only her had the power to leave you completely sober but high at the same time. a mixture of impossibility that had you breathless and in need of more.

“you can’t keep playing with me.” one of her hands surrounded you to pull you closer, palm resting against your stomach, her crotch against your ass. your senses felt overstimulated by her. all you could feel was her, all you could smell was her, all you could think was her.

shane, shane, shane…

“i thought you liked the game. you know… the one in which you pretend you don’t want it as much as i do.” you muttered against her lips, your eyes meeting her green ones.

it was like a game of chess. one wrong move and the king could fall. but isn’t that what you wanted? what she wanted?

you pulled away from her, your hand taking the one that rested on your stomach as you stepped away from her touch.

“what’s your move, shane?”

“you drive me crazy.” she muttered against your lips, her hands newly on your hips, your back against the door of her house, which encapsulated the two of you in a game of tug and let go. “you don’t know what you do to me.” she whined, and you were pulling from the buttons on her shirt, simply pushing it over her head to leave her chest bare to your hungry eyes. she tilted her head back with a silent moan when your mouth found her sensitive nipples, sucking and teasing them with your fingers. “your father’s gonna kill us.” you hummed, looking up at her. the way you prettily tongued at her chest, how your doe eyes stared into her half-lidded ones, how your pink and plump lips surrounded her nipples… she was fucked.

“we’re already dead.” you muttered against her mouth as you pulled up your dress, getting rid of it to show her the lingerie you wore underneath.

shane groaned, pulling you from your neck to meet your tongue. you sighed in relief in her mouth, opening up for her own, moaning at the feeling of the kisses you swore took all your breath away.

the two of you gripped at each other as if you were drowning and you were each others life saver.

somehow, you made your way to her bedroom, your back arching at the wet kisses shane left on your neck and breasts, but her hands left your body as she fell back first onto her bed. you got onto your knees, and jesus, now shane could believe in god. she wetted her lips, her intense stare on you as you unbuttoned her jeans. you bit down on your bottom one as the zip lowered, looking at her as if you were begging. you didn’t have to. shane was rising her hips for you to pull down her pants and underwear down and off her legs. she felt blessed.

your mouth watered as you stared in between her thighs, she was soaked, and so fucking beautiful. your hands found her skin to spread her apart further and she sighed. there was no need to talk. your bodies did all the talking for you. and you owed her an orgasm.

her hand on your hair was the cue to dive in between her thighs.

“fuuuck.” she cursed at the feeling of your tongue. she already knew you could use it with your words, but this… “we really shouldn’t be doing this.” she said, but when you sucked on her clit, she only contradicted herself by pulling you closer against her core. “shit. don’t stop.” you moaned, your fingers digging on her flesh as you buried yourself impossibly closer in between her folds, lapping at her arousal in long strips and flicking your tongue against her puffy clit.

shane tasted heavenly. she was like a drug, the more you took the more you needed her. you pushed her legs over your shoulders for better accessibility as one of your hands made your way under your chin so your fingers could meet her entrance. her hips pushed against your touch, almost as if she was begging for you to touch her, to make her cum. and who were you to say no to her?

shane moaned when you thrusted your middle and ring finger into her pussy, her tight and warm slick walls squeezing your fingers in a heart-like rhythm. you needed to hear more of her like this. you could get high on it, maybe even cum as her pretty voice filled the room.

“fuck baby, yeah, just like that. so good. good girl.” she praised when you curled them to find that spongey spot that left her light-headed. your tongue toyed with her clit meanwhile, the stimulation driving her closer to her long awaited release.

you whimpered at her words, your cunt throbbing in need as you humped you own heels for some kind of friction.

“i’m gonna cum. gonna cum all over that pretty face of yours, fuck.” she gasped, her hips subconsciously thrusting against your fingers and tongue.

you got impatient, driven by the need to taste her on your tongue, curling your fingers faster, sucking on her clit harder, until you felt her hold on your hair tighten and her thighs tremble, a moan leaving her mouth as she fell apart, soaking your chin and lips and filling your mouth.

you hummed, fucking her through it until the very last drop of her cum had been drank. you let her go with a soft kiss to her clit, licking your fingers clean under her intense and hungry stare. shane sat up, guiding you up onto your feet, looking up at you with a desire that threatened with breaking your bones.

her eyes ranked up and down your body, still clad in lingerie. her hands found your waist, pulling you so close you ended up falling on her lap, her mouth on your chest and neck, sucking new bruises that you’d wear like a jewel.

“shane…” you whined, and she understood, one of her hands easily getting rid of the clasp of your bra, throwing it aside to suck on your tits and pierced nipples. “fuck…” you toyed with her brunette hair, tugging at her strands in pleasure, your hips thrusting against her own in need of release.

“want to fuck you so bad, baby.“ she groaned, one of her hands cupping your pussy over your panties, her fingers easily finding and playing with your clit.

“then do it. shit. fuck me, shane. fuck me.” you whined, and with that she was flipping you over and burying you on the sheets, practically ripping your panties off of you. her fingers didn’t wait to part your soaked lips. she grunted, burying her face on your neck.

“so fucking wet…” she almost whined, and your nails dug on her back.

“shane, please…” you begged. it hurt. it hurt so bad. this need you had for her, this hunger that only her could satiate…

“shh, i got you baby. i got you.” she promised, making you whimper and gasp as she thrusted her fingers inside of your welcoming and sopping cunt. “so warm and ready for me…”

your jaw fell slack as she plunged them deeper, her lips kissing the side of it. the squelches of your slick as she started moving them in and out of you making you blush.

“you hear her baby? so needy…” she muttered against your skin, her hips thrusting against your hand and making her fingers reach your cervix.

“shane!” you screamed at the roughness of her movements, the curling of her digits straight onto your g spot. your legs surrounded her hips to bring her closer.

“so fucking pretty screaming my name…” she sighed, her free hand coming up to surround and squeeze your neck.

“i’m not gonna last…” you cried out, the constant abuse on your g spot making you feel dizzy. the warmth of your upcoming orgasm expanding through your lower stomach.

“hold it. i want you to cum on my pussy.” she ordered, pulling away from you and pulling out her fingers from your gaping core. you cried out, feeling your release subsiding.

your watery eyes stared up at her as she made a quick work of positioning your legs and herself in between them. she held one of your own as she sunk down against your pussy, the feeling making the two of you moan and grunt.

“fuck. you feel so good…” she gasped, thrusting against you, making your clits catch and getting out a whimper from your chest.

“shane, shane, shane…” you chanted her name like a prayer to a god, your own hips twitching against hers for more friction. squelching sounds of your pussies gliding against the other filled the air, along with your moans and whimpers. “i can’t. can’t. i’m gonna cum!” you cried out, feeling with every hump your release growing closer.

“cum for me, let me see it fucking drip.” she grunted with a harsh thrust. and with that you were falling apart under her. your orgasm hitting you like a tidal wave and drowning you in pleasure. “thaat’s it. good girl. good fucking girl.” she moaned. “fuck. you’re soaking my pussy so good baby. so fucking good.”

“shit. you’re gonna make me cum again. gonna make me cream your pussy. fuck, fuck, fuck. i’m gonna fill you up baby, im gonna-“

due to her recent orgasm she was sensitive. so fucking sensitive that with the sight of your pretty face cumming for her, and the moaning of her name falling from your lips brought her to her second orgasm of the night.

…

the king had fallen. and the game was over. or was it?

a/n; this took so long to write omg😭. but i’m actually happy w it??? hope y’all enjoyed it❤️

#shane mccutcheon x reader #shane x reader #shane mccutcheon smut #shane mccutcheon imagine #shane smut #shane fluff #shane angst #shane l word #l word shane #shane mccutcheon #the l word x reader #the l word smut #the l word imagine #the l word fan fiction #the l word

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velvetsainz · 4 months

Text

summary: [ cl16 x fem!reader ] the corsican heat causes very particular problems for charles. part of the hot monaco nights series.

word count: 2.5k

content warnings: smut under the cut (minors dni pls!), a lil hint of plot, use of explicit language, fingering, brief p in v, mention of oral (f!receiving), google-translated french (i cannot be stopped), we're pretending charles can legally drive a boat this size, em dashes, time is a social construct

a/n: you guys wanted to know what happened in corsica, so here's the start to that story. also giant mega jumbo thank you to @lecrep for help with a wonderful plot point which i will not spoil—hehe! enjoy, bbys! xx

You weren’t sure what Charles had to promise Pascale to get you two alone, but somehow he managed it.

It was the summer break of the ‘22 season, and you’d been dating a sweet six months since he’d first kissed you as the clock struck midnight on New Year’s. It had been a small enough party, about thirty or so close friends and their partners—even a few kiddos, to boot. What neither of you knew that night was that half of your shared friends had been scheming to get you two together; despite excuse after excuse about why one of you couldn’t go on a date, finally they’d been able to get the two of you in the same room.

Now, months later, you couldn’t imagine life any differently. It made you think of the future, about forever…

No, you stopped yourself when you found yourself daydreaming, forcing yourself to stay in the moment. You didn’t want to put too much pressure on it, put too many expectations on what was awaiting on the other side of that question. It made everything easier, lighter.

Charles, on the other hand, was head-over-fucking-heels for you. He’d always been a romantic, but something about you—the way you touched him, the way you looked at him, the way you kissed…he found himself easily thinking of his future with you, and he didn’t try to stop himself.

Granted, the way you looked in your sundress as you boarded the boat for a day along the Cosican coast, how could he think of anything but you? The white cotton fabric against your new tan, the short skirt skimming over the tops of your thighs in the most tantalizing way. Thoughts of the dress rucked up around your waist with his head between your legs and hands palming your perfect breasts under what remained of your dress filled his head, eyes glazing over and cock stirring in his trunks. You were trying to kill him, he concluded, and he was as good as dead.

What you had underneath didn’t help anything either. Once he’d gotten you both out to a private little cove and he’d dove into the water to escape the heat of the late morning sun, you decided that it was time to lay out for the afternoon; your master's program had kept you busy enough over the past couple months that you still felt all-too-pale even with your newly-acquired tan. (Not to mention, you swore he kept you up half the night with the way he would pull your hips flush with his own and plant soft, searing kisses on the bare skin of your shoulders and back—you needed the rest.)

Peeling the white sundress over your head and discarding it on one of the padded benches, you’re left in a baby blue string bikini that he swore got even tinier since he’d seen you prancing around inside the villa before you’d left for the marina. Face half submerged, Charles’s hazel eyes watched you like a predator watched its prey as you laid out on one of the cushions on the bow’s sun deck with a book in hand and sunglasses perched on your nose.

He grumbled to himself in broken French as his mind swam and blood rushed from his head to the appendage between his legs. He’d been practically insatiable the past few days, his hands always finding a bare strip of scorching skin where he could get ahold of you before his lips and pouty eyes could take care of the rest.

Thirty minutes passed like that, the Monégasque puttering around in the water before he finally gave in to the siren call.

Padding up the steps from the teak swim deck at the stern of the boat, you could hear as he stalked his way to you, but you kept reading regardless. That was, until you felt a pair of lips pressed to the small of your back, just above the waistband of the aforementioned bikini. It drew a hiss from your lips and a slight jolt as you felt Charles’s cool wet skin press against your legs and his hair dripped onto your mid-back. You whined his name, setting your book face down.

“Oui, chérie?,” he asked in a low voice as he continued pressing heated, open-mouthed kisses up your spine until he was at the juncture between your neck and shoulders.

“Baby you’re cold,” you tried to explain as he sucked a mark into the delicate skin of your neck, your head sagging down and away as you bared your neck for him, “and you’re wet.”

He hummed into your skin, and you could feel the smirk at his lips as the cushion dipped beside one of your hips. You turned onto your side as one of his hands wove itself into the hair just behind your ear, and his lips found yours again as they always seemed to do. But this wasn’t a tame peck, an innocent little kiss—there was heat and tongue and your head was sent spinning off into the abyss as you felt your tummy do that telltale flip while your eyelids felt ten thousand pounds too heavy.

“You are too, ma belle,” Charles teased in a low voice, his eyes dark and pupils blown wide.

Again, a pitiful sound slipped from the back of your throat as his head dipped down to find your neck once more and one of his hands slipped under one of the side ties of your bikini bottoms. “That’s beside the point,” you tried to rebut before he kissed you again, this time pulling the tie undone completely. Oh, how he enjoyed silencing an argument like that…(Meanwhile, you thought it was playing dirty, but you’d allow it—for the storyline of it all, at least…no other reason—absolutely none…)

“Je peux vous aider avec ça,” he hummed in your ear before pulling your earlobe between his teeth, the deft hand on your hip ghosting over the skin of your inner thighs and causing your breath to catch in your throat. “Permettez-moi…”

The honeyed words were like a magical salve to all that ails you, to all the remaining doubts that his kisses hadn’t cured from your mind; you hadn’t had much restraint before, but whatever iota you had remaining was sapped the moment his lust-lidded eyes met your own.

You nodded your head, and that was all the bastard needed as he smirked like the cat that had just gotten away with eating the canary. “So stubborn,” he chided playfully as he pulled one of your legs over his hip and the two of you settled into the cushions in full light of the blue skies above. Thankfully, he didn’t tease you too much as he took to sliding his calloused fingers over the damp velvet of your folds, drawing a soft whine from you like a confectioner pulling taffy in the window of one of the boutique shops you’d seen in Ajaccio.

Your eyes closed once more, head finding the crook of your partner’s neck as he drew the pad of his middle fingers in lazy circles around your pearl and the searing heat of his mouth found yours again. He swallowed every little sound you gave him when he finally sunk two thick fingers into your soaked cunt, curling them against that spongy spot deep inside you. Stars burst behind your eyes at the sensation and your hips bucked in search of more and more and more.

“Charles—,” you whimpered his name pitifully, brows knit together as you concentrated on that tight burning coil in the pit of your tummy that pulled tighter with each stroke of his digits against the velvet heat of your walls.

“Such a good girl f’me, mon ange,” he praised quietly as your hips canted in time with the movement of his fingers and soft sounds of your pleasure melted into the water that lapped at the side of the boat. You weren’t going to last long like this, not with how sensitive he’d made you from his voracious desire to have you falling apart for him every moment he had just enough privacy to do so.

“Gonna—fuck-I–,” you stammered as your thighs clamped around his hand and your body tensed around him like a rubber band pulled taut. Your eyes rolled back and strands of sweat-curled hair stuck to your forehead and nape, your mouth falling open in silent screams of pleasure. Something snapped in the depths of your core, legs quivering while warmth washed over all of you and your toes curled against the back of his calf.

“Tellement belle,” he cooed as he nursed you down from your high with slow, feather-light strokes over your swollen bud, “I’ve got you, chérie.”

Slowly, as you came back to earth from your climax, you watched as he brought his fingers to his mouth and sucked them clean. He knew exactly what he was doing when he pulled in you once more, the wet heat of his mouth meeting your own as you tasted the salt of yourself on his tongue.

Pushing him away so you could catch the breath he’d stolen from your chest, you rolled onto your back as your shoulder ached from how you’d held yourself against him. With an arm over your eyes, you could feel the smoldering embers in your belly reignite—you needed more.

“You’re evil, you know that?,” you teasingly mocked as he pulled your half-undone bottoms off your other leg. Charles wasn’t done with you yet, and you had a few ideas of your own now.

“I think I can live with that,” he shrugged smugly as he sat between your legs, trunks pulled down just enough to free his aching cock. Stroking himself one, two, three times, he smeared the precum over his length before sinking into your depths with a hiss and a slew of French curses that always managed to go straight to your pussy.

Within only a few thrusts, though, he was stalling and readjusting.

“What’s wro—oh!,” you yelped in surprise as he lifted you then, first onto his knees and then onto his feet before taking you to the side of the boat and perching you onto the railing. You could hear the warning bells in your mind start to ring, but you still felt like a pile of jelly from your first orgasm to the point that you weren’t in much of a place to argue. Still, Charles could see the hesitancy in your eyes, feel it in the way that you clung to him.

“Je t’ai, je t’ai,” he reassured with a strong hand on your hip and another guiding one of your arms around his neck. You nodded, trusting he had tight enough hold of you.

But oh how that trust was misplaced…

The angle from which he drove into you was almost too good to be true—if you’d have been standing, your knees would’ve buckled at the very sensation. And given the choked groans in your ear, you knew the Monégasque felt the same way, too.

You closed your eyes for just a moment and then suddenly you were plunged into a dim coldness that enveloped your entire form, a stark contrast from the simmering heat of your boyfriend’s body. Thankfully, your instincts reacted faster than your conscious mind, and you emerged at the surface after only a moment under the waves.

Just as your head broke the surface, a large splash came down just next to you before familiar hands were finding your skin—first at your ankle…then your opposite calf…then your hips and small of your back.

This dumb motherfucker lost his grip amongst the sweat and sunscreen and slick of you and sent you over the side of the boat into the crystalline waters below. It was only a seven-foot or so drop, but still, the point stood: he did not, in fact, have you.

A shocked and incredulous look took over Charles's face as he sputtered and stammered, trying to think of something—anything—to say that would make sense of this disaster of a sexcapade.

You, on the other hand, simply laughed. You were fine—shocked, no doubt, but fine nonetheless.

“You’re so fucked,” you laughed as you wrapped yourself around him once more as you knew there was no meaningful way he could drop you now—you were not making the same mistake twice.

“Je suis foutu vraiment désolé, chérie—I-I thought-I,” he stammered, still falling over himself to try and explain the whole thing before you took his flustered face in your hands and pressed your lips together to shut him up once and for all.

“I’m fine, baby—I’m okay,” you soothed, resting your forehead against his. You could feel his heart pounding in his chest pressed to your own. Slowly, he seemed to come back into his body, into his coherent thoughts as the fear and adrenaline of the whole snafu began to fade.

“However,” you started, leaning back from the man, “I will expect some heavy groveling tonight.” You smirked, a slight mischievous twinkle in your eye.

“‘Groveling’?,” he asked in confusion, “I do not kno—”

“Ne t'inquiète pas,” you teased with a knowing grin, “you’ll figure it out, baby.”

And figure it out he did as you came for the third time that night, pushing his head away from your oversensitive cunt as a chuckle rumbled through his chest and over your sweat-slicked skin. You were scrabbling away over sheets now damp with your sweat and release, whine caught in your throat as Charles tangled a hand in your hair at the nape of your neck to pull your mouth to his own in an absolutely fucking filthy kiss that had your rubbing your thighs together like a damn cricket.

“Charlie,” you whimpered as his hand pried your thighs apart once more with your chest still heaving from your last orgasm.

“I thought you wanted me to grovel, mon cœur,” he snarked as his teeth worried into that same spot between your neck and shoulder as before, tongue soothing over the blossoming mark before he ducked his head further down. You keened for him petulantly, hips bucking momentarily as his plush lips wrapped around a taut nipple.

Still, he looked up at you as he released your nipple with a wet pop, and his hazel eyes met yours in earnest. “Do you want me to stop, chérie—enough for tonight?,” he asked, knuckles gently brushing over your cheek and pushing your now-dampened hair away from your face. You could feel his cock, hot and heavy against your sensitive thighs, and you would’ve had the dignity to blush if it hadn’t been for the fact that you’d probably let him do just about anything he wanted to do to you.

“No, I just—,” you started pitifully before a sharp cry of surprise left your lips as he tugged you firmly by the ankles closer to him once more.

“Good, because I’m not done with you yet, minette,” he half-groaned with that stupid fucking smirk on his lips while pressing against your quivering entrance before he bottomed out in a single press of his hips that made your eyes roll like a pair of marbles on a tile floor.

You were so incredibly fucked. Literally and figuratively.

final note: i now have a sideblog for my writing, @velvetsainz-writes! follow me there for fic recs, inspo, & all things related to my writing!

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waterlilydrops · 26 days

Text

The Perfect Way

pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!reader

summary: In the grid, you’re more of Lewis’s crew member compared to Charles's girlfriend, and even your inner thoughts echo this sentiment. Charles found the perfect way to announce to everyone that he also has your heart.

word count: 3k

warning: fluff, Mercedes analyst!reader, platonic!Lewis Hamilton x reader, mention of Lewis to Ferrari, mention of marriage, Charles is also strategizing for himself off the track, pretend that Red Bull’s rocket does not exist, humiliation of Mercedes’ tractor

notes: English is not my first language, so please point out mistakes if there are any. Ideas and suggestions are greatly welcomed.

Yas Marina Circuit, 2023

As Charles and Lewis entered the final corner, Charles could feel his heart racing at its fastest. Lewis was on much fresher tyres that he were, and this was his last chance.

The two cars raced wheel-to-wheel with barely any space between them. Charles pushed as hard as he could, trying overtake, but Lewis refused to relent, staying right beside him.

They almost crossed the chequered flag at the same time.

Charles slowed down his car as he drove around for the cool down lap. “It’s a photo finish, we are still waiting for the results,” Xavi said through the radio.

Charles’ heart hung in mid-air. He had a premonition that fate had something in store for him, but he feel unsettled until it was finally confirmed.

Impatiently, his fingers tapped on the steering wheel. The roar of engines and the clamor of the audience now seemed muted. It felt like it had been a century.

“P1, Charles, P1. Congrats.” Xavi’s excitement came through the speakers.

“Yessssss! Yeeeesssss! I can’t believe it… thank you team!” He could hear his heart pounding in his chest, exhilaration coursing through his veins, Charles’ hand sticking out the top to wave as he drove significantly slower.

With these points, he won the second place of the drivers championship, more importantly, Ferrari defeated Mercedes in the WCC.

As soon as Charles emerged from his car, the deafening roar of the crowd filled the air. fireworks went off in the sky, the entire team burst out of the garage, their hands reaching out from every direction to pat Charles on the shoulders and celebrate with him.

He removed his helmet and passed it to the nearest pair of hands, pulling off his balaclava and tousling his sweaty hair.

Amidst the chaos of the cheering fans and ecstatic team members, Charles exchanged hugs and handshakes with his crew and friends, each congratulating him on the hard-fought triumph.

However, as he scanned the crowd and caught sight of you celebrating with the Mercedes team, his heart sank at the sight.

You were standing beside Lewis, your arms were wrapped around each other, your smile radiant, celebrating your teams remarkable performance.

Charles stood by the barriers, various thoughts swirling in his mid. Feeling like a lemon, freshly squeezed of its sweetness, and left with only bitterness behind, he knew that while he stood victorious, you were sharing in the success of another driver.

He certainly respected your profession and felt proud of your excellent work performance as a data analyst. He also admired your good relationship with colleagues.

But he couldn't help but wonder, amidst the rush of crossing the finish line, does your heart secretly yearn for Lewis to reclaim the long-lost win, or does it beat fervently for his own triumph? It's a question he knows he will never able to ask about.

He waited patiently, his emotions a tumultuous mix of pride and envy.

Finally, as you broke away from your team, Charles stepped forward, his smile strained as he tried to mask the jealousy and hurt bubbling inside him.

The joy of seeing your boyfriend and boss together on the podium filled your heart, of course you didn’t feel Charles’ subtle emotions.

You barreled into him, brought him in for a hug, your hand touched his flushed face, warmed by the heat and dehydration, “Congratulations Charlie, P1, I'm so proud of you.”

When his eyes met yours, seeing your pure, happy, ear to ear smile, his thoughts were instantly pushed aside. He leaned onto you, you can felt he put his head down against yours, his hands were tightly around your waist, his lips met yours in a kiss.

At least you are happy for his win. At least you will celebrate with him tonight.

Christmas, 2023

The long season finally comes to an end; there's nothing better than spending Christmas with family.

Inside the house, the Christmas tree stood adorned with a myriad of twinkling lights, the scent of cinnamon and pine wafted through the air, further enhancing the ambiance of the season.

As you sat by the crackling fireplace, the flickering flames cast a gentle glow, painting the room with hues of amber and gold. The comforting heat of the fire embraced you, creating a cozy haven from the chilly winter night.

You nestled against the plush cushions, Charles rested his head on your shoulder. Engrossed in casual conversation, you both exchanged lighthearted banter while idly scrolling through your phones, relishing the simple joy of each other's company.

Outside the window, the mountains appeared majestic and serene under the moonlight, and you both occasionally gazed out, admiring the beauty of the snowflakes dancing in the air.

Suddenly, the tranquil atmosphere was interrupted by the ringtone of Charles’ phone. With lighting speed, he sprang up from you, saying, “Work call, sorry, Cherie.”

The thick stack of confidentiality contracts you both signed certainly includes not taking work calls in front of each other.

A few minutes later, while you were discussing tomorrow's lunch plans after skiing with Pascale and your mom, Charles reappeared in the living room.

His green eyes sparkled with excitement, his lips curled up slightly, as if about to burst with anticipation.

He walked over to you, took your hand, “Let me borrow her for a minute,” he said, giving moms a sweet smile they couldn't resist.

He guided you towards the couch, gently pressed you down onto it and settled down beside you. “You won't believe what I just heard—”

“Love — think about the agreements, please double check in your head if this is something I can hear,” you said, shaking your head with a smile.

He hesitated for a brief moment, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his eyes. The reminder of the confidentiality agreement lingered in his mind, urging caution. Yet, the anticipation of sharing the news with you proved too tempting to resist.

“I believe you’ll know it eventually, especially considering you are working with—” He paused, torn between his desire to confide in you and the obligation to maintain confidentiality.

You sensitively caught the key words, which aroused your interest: “Who am I working with? Andrew? Is he leaving Mercedes?”

Charles shook his head, “Of course not.” His expression was incredibly conflicted, clearly indicating that his mind was wrestling with the breaking news he was about to disclose.

You eagerly grasped his hand, urging, “Please, Charlie, I’ll definitely keep it confidential. Besides, you said it's something I'll eventually know, right?”

Taking a deep breath, Charles steeled himself, “Okay, okay,” he began, his voice lowered but filled with excitement and disbelief. “Lewis is going to be my teammate in 2025!”

Your eyes widened in shock, unable to believe what you just heard. The news hit you like a bolt from the blue, and for a moment, you were speechless.

In that moment, a whirlwind of thoughts and questions raced through your mind. When did Lewis decide to leave Mercedes? Who would fill the void? How would the rivalry between Lewis and Charles unfold on the track? What might be the potential impact of this change on the dynamics of the paddock? These thoughts fluttered in your mind like snowflakes outside the window, making you unable to stop pondering.

Until Charles's hand waved in front of your eyes, you regained your voice. “Are you serious?” you finally managed to blurt out.

Charles nodded.

You asked the question that had been burning in your mind: “So, still free to fight?”

Charles shrugged nonchalantly, though you could sense the underlying tension. “I'm used to it,” he admitted with a small smile, his hand finding its way to your knee in a comforting gesture. “Are you planning to join Ferrari?”

You shook your head, your thoughts scattered and uncertain. “I don't know,” you rambled, your voice reflecting the turmoil within, “Depends on if Lewis needs me. I can't just text him now saying I know you are going to Ferrari... Do I need to take a gardening leave or something like that? Although there's really nothing worth leaking from Mercedes' tractor data...”

Charles widened his eyes in disbelief, momentarily caught off guard by your jest. He reached out to affectionately pinch your cheek, a fond smile tugging at his lips. “Hey, girl, You even thought about gardening leave! When I asked you to come to Ferrari before, you ruthlessly rejected me!”

Almost the entire family's gaze turned toward this small corner, you were too late to cover Charles's mouth.

Your sibling curiously asked what was happening, and Charles shook his head with a playful grin, before loudly accusing, “I knew I was never her favorite driver.”

“I promise you, if I join Ferrari, I'll make sure to join your crew after every race to celebrate, just like Fabrizio did,” you say, embracing Charles's neck.

He lowered his head and kissed your lips, “Deal.”

At that moment, Charles felt a sense of comfort and reassurance knowing that you cared about his situation and were there to share in his excitement and uncertainty. and you believed in him to do his best even under high-intensity competition.

Even if he wasn't your favorite driver.

Summer break, 2024

You decided to spend a few days during the summer break on the island of Capri. The area where the yacht stopped was very quiet, with specks of light shimmering on the sea surface through gaps in the clouds. The sky and the water dyed the whole world with shades of blue, and the sea breeze felt like it too was blue.

It seemed like this place only belonged to the two of you.

You chatted about everything, from the important to the trivial. You were going to karting in a couple of days — Charles mentioned how he missed the feeling of driving; shared thoughts on the risky design of the Red Bull’s zero-pod. Talked about when the race started, you absolutely had to try the croissants at Alpine's hospitality. They had a new executive chef.

Suddenly, you remembered something and turn to look at him:“Babe, I’ll transfer my half of the vacation expenses to your account a bit later. Sorry. ”

Charles said nonchalantly, “I never bother to check my bank account. Besides, you shouldn't even give me the money, mon cher.”

He suddenly realized what you said and asked about your financial situation. “I do wanna take care of you and pay all the bills for you. But you never worry about money before. Is everything okay?”

“Don't worry,” you reassured him, offering a gentle smile, “Just I may have a large expense recently. Plus, we won't have bonuses for the first half of the season.”

Charles' concern lingered, his green eyes reflecting genuine care. “What could it be? Is there anything I can help with?”

You explained, “Because I need to pool money with the team to buy Lewis an expensive farewell gift.”

Charles teased: “Lewis is a billionaire, he should be the one giving you guys gifts.”

“Surely he does, he often gives us gifts.” You raised your hand, revealing the exquisite watch hidden beneath the sleeve of your cover-ups to Charles. “If it weren't for Lewis, I probably wouldn't have bought such an expensive watch in my lifetime. It would just make me robbed.”

“Hey! I got that watch back.” Charles straightened up, he couldn't believe you were actually joking him with this. He exclaimed loudly as if he was defending the safety situation of Italy.

“Because it was too special to sell.”

He reached out and pulled you close to him, starting to tickle you.

“Stop! Please stop Charles! Sorry, I’m sorry! I said I am sorry!” You couldn't help but laugh uncontrollably.

Charles finally stopped, letting you lean against his sunburnt chest, “So, what gift are you planning to give Lewis?”

You replied while stroke the stubble of his chin, which is tinted with a shade of blue, “we haven’t decided yet. Maybe a custom-designed ring, you know, something to memorize the years we have spent together in our careers.”

Charles's expression seemed slightly unhappy, he sighed softly and whispered, “You've never bought me a ring.”

Caught off guard by his remark, you paused, realizing he didn’t seem to be joking.

You took a moment to gather your thoughts before gently explaining, “Babe, the meaning of a ring is different for everyone. For Lewis and us, it's about marking our journey together, our shared experiences. Don’t take it seriously, OK?”

But Charles wasn't convinced. His brows furrowed as he argued, “If you're giving Lewis a ring, why not me? Why should he get something that symbolizes memories, but I don't?”

Feeling the tension rising, you tried to reason with him. “Charles, it's not about favoritism or comparison. If I give you a ring, it might seem a bit like a promising ring, I think we—”

He interrupted you, “What's wrong with a promise ring? Don't you want to marry me? Besides not being your favorite driver, now you don't even want to marry me?”

“I do wanna marry you one day but the ring is about commitment and we—”

Charles said firmly, “I want commitment. I want a promise ring.”

His frustration was evident in his voice as he continued , “I want to feel that commitment, that symbol of our love and memories. Why can’t you understand that?”

You feel torn inside, on one hand, you desire to make him happy, on the other hand, you worry if this is too much.

Sensing the conflict within you, Charles softened his tone. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you,” he said, reaching out to gently caress your cheek. “I just want to feel as cherished and valued as the way you treat Lewis.”

His vulnerability melted your resolve. You took his hand and met his gaze. “Okay, babe,” you said softly. “I hear you. I will find a ring that represent our love and fit your beautiful eyes.”

A sense of relief washed over Charles's heart as he pulled you into a tight embrace. If you look at his face, you'll notice a confident, victorious smile hanging on his lips.

He won. He knew the last thing you would do is make him upset.

“And,” Charles added, deciding to push himself to the limit and capitalize on his momentum. “I was thinking, if I win in Monza, would you give me another gift?”

You were both annoyed and amused by his words, “You want to monopolize all the good things in the world? The ring is yours, victory is yours, what else do you want?”

You couldn't help but start calculating your bank balance in your mind.

“Give me the ring in front of the audience, after race.” Charles said, giving you the puppy dog eyes as he glanced at you from under his shamefully long lashes.

Fight dirty.

Monza circuit, 2024

Grid is not the best place for keeping secrets.

If Pierre knew about Lewis's and Ferrari's contract signing earlier than the media, he would certainly know about your plan to give Charles a ring after race. Unfortunately, gossips spread particularly quickly during race week.

“From Single to Taken: il Predestinato’s Surprise Engagement”

“Love in the Limelight: Leclerc’s girl spotted Ring Shopping - Wedding Plans Underway!”

“Counting the top ten jewelry brands, who will Y/N Y/LN choose to propose to Leclerc?”

“Mrs. Leclerc soon to be? Can Mercedes data analyst continue to work after marriage?”

With each passing lap, the anticipation mounted, reaching a fever pitch as the checkered flag loomed ever closer. And then, in a blaze of glory, Charles crossed the finish line, the victor of the race. The crowd erupted into cheers, celebrating his triumph.

“Congratulations to Leclerc, he has now achieved a three heads wins—”

“Honestly, I really don't want to see Charles and Ms Y/LN standing together... even if it's just behind the barrier... oh my god, He's climbed over the barrier... I have a feeling something is about to happen!”

Charles stood before you. His tousled hair, the color of midnight, framing his face in a disheveled yet undeniably alluring manner. Despite the weariness etched in the lines around his eyes, there is a fire within his green eyes, and beads of sweat glisten on his chiseled jawline.

“I don't know if there are any words in this world that can describe your talent and determination. You are my David, my sun, and the god of gods atop Olympus. If you allow me to boldly place this ring on your finger, I would be honored beyond measure. So, Mr. Leclerc, would you accept my ring?”

“Before I can even think of a reason to say no, hurry up.”

“Um, Charlie, a gentleman would typically say 'I'll consider it' at a time like this.” You reminded him, glanced at the Netflix earpiece almost hanging next to your nose.

Charles tilted his head innocently towards you, not retracting his hand from under your eyelids. “I've been considering for months now, so you better hurry.”

You slowly took the ring out of the box, but Charles appeared somewhat impatient, eagerly took the box from your hand. He seemed to have waited too long, hastily removed the ring from the box and skillfully placed it on his own finger.

You couldn't help but laugh, and as you leaned in to press a tender kiss against Charles' lips, you knew that this was just the beginning of your journey together.

“Hey Lewis, take a look at this!”

“Wow, it’s very beautiful, matches the color of your eyes. Congrats mate, is that what I think it is?”

“Unfortunately, no. It’s a promising ring.”

“Uh, Sorry, I thought she finally agreed to marry you.”

“...One day she will, won't she?”

“If you treat her favorite driver better, I reckon someone might put in a good word for you.”

Here is a BONUS PART, enjoy!

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #f1 x reader #f1 x you #charles leclerc fanfic #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x you #Charles leclerc imagine

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thelovelyruin · 6 months

Text

𝖇𝖚𝖇𝖇𝖑𝖊𝖌𝖚𝖒 𝖇𝖎𝖙𝖈𝖍.

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖘 : choso x fem reader

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖚𝖓 : you wanted choso real bad, but did he want you too?

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖒𝖔𝖔𝖓 : (fem perspective of acquainted.) smut, porn with plot, vaginal sex, praise, teasing, fingering.

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖔𝖙 : 4.5K

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗 : inspired by lyrics from bubblegum bitch by marina and the diamonds.

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖊𝖒𝖕𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖘 : hello lovelies, thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoy it; if so, follow me for more. au revoir!

18+ MDNI ADULT CONTENT

Got a figure like a pin-up, got a figure like a doll.

“But Maiiii!”

“Don’t even think about it. You know you’re gonna hurt his feelings.”

“I won’t, I promise! He’s real cute, I could never do that to him.”

“You mean weird? I’ve only seen him talk to Yuuji, and that’s saying something.”

“Well, maybe he just needs a girlfriend! Ya know, a woman’s touch.”

“Babe, the second you try to touch to him, he’s gonna cum on himself.”

“That’s not bad, right? That just means he likes me!”

Mai scoffed and walked towards class, you following behind a puppy. You were a pretty girl, for sure. Always wearin’ sparkly lipgloss, your hair was always in a cute style but always down, had to show off your hoop earrings! You usually wore a little locket necklace, which had a little pic of Choso in it, but that’s really creepy, right? It sat on top of a pink shirt that you made sure your tits always looked great in, just in case he was lookin’. Then your miniskirt gave a sneak peek of your ass and your winter boots you lovedddd to wear with leggings that you were hoping he was getting an eyeful of. It was tough when you were in class with him; you raised your hand to answer a question, hoping he’d perk up at the sight of your new manicure. Sometimes, you’d wear a perfume that smelled like cake; you could tell he liked it; he’d always stutter when he walked past you, conveniently moving your hair so the scent would fly in the air towards him. Then there was your skin, always wearing a nice lotion so your legs looked smooth as you crossed them over one another or stood before the seminar to answer a question on the board. You usually ask someone to pick something up for you and never touched a door either; you pretty much knew it was because every guy wanted to fuck you, so you ran them around like your puppies, and they’d run back to you with a lollipop or something like that, which you made sure to suck real sexy when Choso was around, in case he ever wanted to be the lollipop.

It's not like you wanted him to pay attention or anything.

Don't care if you think I'm dumb; I don't care at all.

“Hey, Choso! What’s up?”

He obviously hadn’t heard you, so you put your hands on his desk in the library and squished your tits together, leaning over a bit to look at him. A little cleavage was always effective, right?

“Hello, earth to Choso, you there?”

“Sorry, could you repeat that?”

You made sure to wear a really short skirt, which was totally cute, but every guy on campus was getting the wrong idea. You’d worn it to see Choso, which worked ‘cause he was looking at the little piece of your thong you’d left out for him to see. You just had to tease him a little.

“I said, “Hey, Choso! What’s up?””

“Oh, sorry. Not much, how about you?”

“Oh, nothin’; saw you were sittin’ alone and wanted to come say hi; that okay?”

That was such a shitty excuse. You really could’ve come up with something better, but it seemed to work anyway! He sat to the side of the seat, sitting his hand in the empty space.

“Yeah, that’s fine. Uh, wanna take a seat?”

“Sure! So, whatcha workin' on?”

“Oh, I’m just studying for the statistics exam.”

“That class is super hard! I feel like I’m not getting any of it.”

Fuck, was he catching on yet? You really couldn’t think of another reason why you two would be alone; you couldn’t even convince your professors to let you work with him on a project.

“I could, um, tutor you if you want.”

“Really? You’d do that for me?”

You perked up, hand touching his arms, tits bouncing as you shifted towards him in the seat. You were so excited you could barely keep it together, but you had to act totally fine in case he was onto you. Which really, you wanted him on you.

“Yeah, it’s no problem.”

“Perfect, when are you free?

“Uh, I’m free after classes; what about you?”

Fuck, you had a lot to do. When did you get so busy?

“Hmm, well, I have a sorority meeting at six tomorrow, so that probably won’t work, but then, ooo, I have cheer practice on Thursday, ugh, and I can’t forget Nobara’s party on Friday!”

“So, Wednesday?”

“Perfect! We’d just have to do it after my nail appointment at 3.”

He looked at your nails. Was there something wrong with them? Maybe you should’ve pulled this charade afterward.

“I think your nails are nice like that?”

You were blushing now, bringing a hand out before you two.

“Ya think so? I was thinking of changing the color. I’ve changed my mind since last week.”

You got a call from Mai! Damn, you wish she wasn’t still upset with you. Happily, you answered it.

“Hey babe, what's up?”

“Not gonna believe it! Nobara got this big-ass AirBnb for this weekend. It’s totes cute; gonna look at it for our meeting tomorrow. Anyways, I gotta go, going shopping; I’ll send pics!”

You felt super bad; You’d interrupted your and Choso’s conversation to talk about sorority stuff. Hopefully, you didn’t annoy him.

“Sorry about that! She had to tell me about this crazy thing one of our sisters did.”

“Sisters?”

“Yeah, like in our sorority, silly! Anyways, gotta blast, but I enjoyed our chat!”

You pulled a pen out of your purse along with a piece of gum; after unwrapping it and putting it in your mouth, you grabbed Choso’s hand, writing down your phone number.

“There ya go, put it in fast so it doesn’t wash off. Bye, cutie!”

With that, you walked away. He looked so cute, blushing all hard; hopefully, he texted you. You probably looked pretty dumb, but who cares? You were gonna spend some time with him, so your plans could get rollin’.

Candy bear, sweetie pie, wanna be adored.

“YOU GAVE HIM YOUR NUMBER?”

“Yes, but it’s because he’s tutoring me!”

“So, you and him, alone. “Studying”.”

“Yes, Mai. “Studying”.”

“Bullshit, you’re gonna fuck him!”

“Am not! I have some self-control, ya know.”

When you told Mai about the exchange earlier, she was convinced you were making a bad decision.

“So then, what if he wants to fuck you? What happens to that self-control?”

“It gets thrown out the window, and I let him fuck my brains out, duh.”

Mai looked you up and down, giving you that look. You scoffed and lay on your bed; damn, you would be doing your statistics work if you actually knew what you were doing. A ring came from your phone, practically jumping at it.

“Hey. It’s Choso.”

You jumped around your room, squealing. He had actually texted you! Not that you didn’t think he would, but he was always super standoffish so he might’ve wiped it off. But nonetheless, you texted him back.

“haiiii <3 wednesday still good? :3”

“Yeah, what time?”

“let’s do 5, kay?”

“Sounds good.”

“yay! See you then :p.”

When Wednesday came around, you were super nervous all day. Mai teased you for it, saying there was nothing to worry about; you guys were only “studying.” You had seen him in class, but today, you gave him a wink as you walked by, hoping he’d like it. Fuck, you were such a klutz! Smoothie all over your shirt; not like that was such a bad thing. It meant you could change into something cuter, something that would really catch his attention! It made you super late, though. You felt so bad, showing up 15 minutes late, but you sucked it up and knocked on his door anyway. Choso opened the door for you, but you were still panting. God, get it together!

“I'm so sorry! I spilled my smoothie on my other top, so I had to change, then I ran over as fast as I could! You’re not too mad at me, are you?”

“You’re fine; come in.”

“Ooo, thanks!”

You walked into the room, giving him a smile, then bent over to set your purse and books, hoping he was pervy enough to get a view. You’d stayed down there for a while, giving him enough time to get a good look, then you got up and turned around, and he was blushing! Maybe he’d seen your lacy pink thong. But you weren’t thinking about fucking him, right?

“Somethin’ wrong?”

“Uh, no…let’s get started.”

An hour passed, and you were shocked at your level of resolve. He was helping you this whole time, and all you could think about was the tent in his pants, wanting to take care of it. But you promised Mai you’d chill, so you did.

“All done! I think this is the best I’ve ever done! Thank you so so much!”

You wrapped your arms around him, bringing him in. You pulled back from him, still hugging him, as he looked down into your eyes. You let go and giggled, walking over to get on his bed, sitting back on your hands, legs slightly open as your chest poked out. Mai would probably be mad, but she’d have to understand, right? You just needed him, really bad.

“Hey, Choso?”

“Yeah?”

“I need your help with something.”

“What’s up?”

I'm the girl you'd die for.

As he approached you, you put your final fears to the side. You had full confidence he wanted you, and you were gonna act on it.

You opened your thighs to him, panty-clad pussy on full display.

Awe, he was so red! To be fair, you had just shown off your pussy to him, practically asking him to touch you there, and you were ready for it. You pulled him forward by his shirt, his face up to yours.

“That is, if you wanna.”

He dropped to his knees, positioning himself on the floor between your legs, both draped over his shoulders as he pulled you closer to him. You saw him get a good look at your thong; you knew you were soaked from being next to him for so long. He brought his hands up your legs; the feeling of his fingers made you shake all the way up to your hips, where he flipped your skirt up. He grabbed the edge of your panties, backing up to pull them down your legs. You opened up a little more for him, soaked pussy on full display, letting him spread your lips apart, precum dripping out of you. He was in shock, and it was so sexy. He looked like he was in love with just the sight of your pussy.

Choso brought his lips down to yours, lapping up all of your juices, then fucking his tongue into you. Damn, he felt so good! You started moaning his name and arching your back as you gripped his sheets. He brought his tongue to your clit, circling the bud slowly, and god it had you whimpering.

“Choso….”

You felt so fucking good. He brought his fingers up and slipped them inside you, making you groan loudly. You could tell this was probably his first time eating pussy, but when he curled his fingers, it felt soooo good and you just had to tell him!

“Fuck, right there, don’t stop!”

He pumped his fingers in and out of you as your body jerked, begging to cum. You were so blissed out, happy you were about to cum from his tongue. It came hard, fingers gripping his hair in a way so you could find some sort of stability. And fuck, as you came down, you rutted your pussy against his tongue, mouth still opened and eyes rolled back.He left you panting on his bed, half-naked, back still arched. As you began to come back to earth, you sat up on your hands again, pussy most likely staining the sheets, but it would be okay, right?

“Come here.”

You were serious now. You didn’t wanna be so harsh, but you were literally gonna die if you didn’t feel his dick inside you immediatley. You opened your legs so he could position himself between them, kissing him intensely now. He brought his hand up to your tits, groping them through the fabric of your shirt, pinching your nipple once he found it, you were getting so wet. He ruts his hips against yours, making you groan into his mouth. Fuck, he was so hot, you were gonna lose your-

I'll chew you up, and I'll spit you out.

Your phone fucking rang…and you knew it was Mai. With a pout, you walked over to his desk to grab your phone.You tried to act as normal as possible when you answered the phone, you couldn’t make it too obvious Choso just had a mouth full of pussy!

“Hey, hey!”

“Hey babe, emergency house meeting! Maki didn’t put in the order for the catering for rush next week, so everyone’s coming together to think of a back up. Need ya here, like yesterday!”

You were pouting now, tilting your head to the side as you talked to her.

“But Maiiii, I’m doing something super important!”

“Important, huh? Is that important thing fucking Choso? Either way, bring your ass over here before anyone gets suspicious.”

“Ugh, fine, but you owe me! See you in a bit.”

You hung up the phone and walked over to him, a sad look on your face as you wrapped your arms around him and nuzzled your head into his chest.

“You gotta go?”

“Yeah, but I really don’t want to!”

“It’s fine. You should be ready for the test on Thursday.”

You bent over to pick up your purse and books again; hoping he’d really get a good look at you this time. You hadn’t put your panties back on, instead leaving them next to his bed for him to find later. You put your heels back on, getting on your tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek.

“Bye, cutie!”

“Um, bye.”

It’s like you couldn’t get him out of your head; every time you tried to focus on the meeting, he was there. Before you laid down for bed, he texted you, letting you know you forgot them. Hmmmm, what should you say?

“oopsie :3 consider them a gift ;)”

'Cause that's what young love is all about.

So pull me closer…

“YOU DID WHAT?”

“Maiiii, please don’t be mad!”

“Let me get this straight, you fucked him?”

“No, yes, well, not exactly. I, you know…”

“Awe shit, you sucked his-”

“NO, MAI. Not that I wouldv’e been opposed to it.”

“So, what did you- Holy shit, he ate you out!”

You became flustered, you told her about your sexual encounters all the time, but it had been so long since you got any, plus she already thought Choso was weird.

“Yes, he ate me out.”

“YOU MOTHERFUCKER!”

“Mai, I’m sorry! Like don’t be mad at me though, it felt really good and technically that was only second base, right? Or third? Either way I didn’t fuck him, yet.”

“Sorry, sorry. It’s not like I don’t support you, but a guy like that? He probably came on himself.”

Now, you’d told Choso you were busy, but that didn’t stop you from wanting to see him again! You guys had seen each other around the halls; Thursday, you gave him a wink every time you saw him, and he’d return it with a blush and grin. But then, you realized he hadn’t texted you. Wouldn’t he wanna see you again? Especially if he enjoyed it as much as you think he did. You were nervous at this point. What if you were over-analyzing things? Just a quick fuck to get each other’s rocks off? Then, unfortunately, the thought came to mind that he probably just thought you were pretty and dumb, which hurt your feelings real bad. I mean, you couldn’t help it; spontaneous oral from the guy liked for months now. But, fuck, you missed him.

And kiss me hard!

The party could be heard down the street; it was pretty lit tbh, a large house with at least eight bedrooms, a pool and basketball court in the back, and balconies on almost every window. As you walked through the house, part of you wanted to find Choso and get a real answer as to why he had ghosted you. That was until a guy from your brother fraternity walked up to you.

You held a cup of punch, but what you were wearing was kinda flashy. You hadn’t bothered to wear a top, just your string bikini covering your tits, which to be fair, wasn’t doing a very good job of covering them up. Then there were your shorts; the underside of your ass on display, but when you and Mai picked them out, you bought ‘em just in case you saw him. You were leaning into the guy, trying to hear him over the speakers. He was kinda creepy. Obviously drunk as he tried to talk to you about some speed dating thing they were about to throw, and apparently you just needed to be there. You knew he was getting an eyeful; he couldn’t even make eye contact with you because he was too busy staring at your chest, which you wouldn’t be opposed to usually, but he wasn’t Choso, and tbh, he was the only one you wanted to look at you like that.

This dude made some shitty joke, you giggling to save face and not embarrass your sisters. That’s when you see Choso walking in your peripheral vision. OMG, he did come! But as happy as you were, he looked kinda pissed, or maybe you were trippin’? You gave him an awkward smile as you turned. That was until Choso grabbed your arm.

“Gonna borrow her right quick.”

What the fuck was he doing? Choso led you up the stairs as you rushed to keep up, spilling your drink a bit. He looked for an empty bedroom, walked you into it, and locked it behind him. What was his deal?

“Choso, what the actual fuck?”

“What are you doing, huh?”

“What am I doing? What am I doing? Motherfucker, what are you doing?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you haven’t talked to me in days. Then you pull me in here, like I’m the bad guy or something, fuck, did eating me out mean anything to you?”

“Of course it did! I haven’t texted you because I wanted to give you space!”

“I could’ve made time for you! I don’t wanna hear your shitty excuses as to-”

I'm gonna pop your bubblegum heart.

Your sentence was cut short by Choso pulling you into a kiss. Some nerve he had, not talking to you for days, then coming up like he owned you or something. You were fucking mad at him, sure, but you wanted to fuck him more than anything. So, you let him lay you on the bed behind you, mouth coming to kiss you, even deeper this time. He pulled back to undo your top, allowing your tits free, ready to go to town.

“So, who the fuck was that?”

He brought his lips down to your nipple, sucking it as you moaned softly. He was totally killing the vibe.

“A friend, what are you, jealous?”

He sucked the other one, massaging your tits as you watched him. You knew he was, like why else would he be asking? That kinda made you feel good though, he was willing to put up a little fight for ya, huh?

“Depends.”

“On?”

Choso began to move his way down, sucking the skin of your stomach as he brought his hands down to hook into your shorts. He had them down to your ankles, pulling them off of you, you were so fucking excited, as pissed as he was, his mood was real cute.

“I’m your friend too, no?”

“Something like that.”

He undid the strings on your bikini, throwing them somewhere in the room. He brought his face down to you, kissing your inner thighs to tease you.

“You let all your friends eat your pussy?”

I'm Miss Sugar Pink, liquor, liquor lips.

You couldn’t answer his question, body reacting to the kitten licks he was giving your clit. You really liked it when he fucked you with his tongue, and you were practically in love when he pressed his tongue harder on our bud. You missed the feeling of your pre-cum on his lips, but it was cut short when he pulled his face back, teasing you.

“Answer me, princess.”

“No, I don't.”

It’s like something woke up inside of him. His face was back on you, fucking his tongue into you as he pinned your hips down, watching you squirm from the pleasure. The pleasure you never wanted to stop.

Choso picked up the pace of his tongue, his fingers finding their way to your pussy, curling them as he sucked on your clit. One hand still on your hips to keep you still; it’s not like it really mattered though, ‘cause you came real hard. You bucked your hips into his touch, moaning his name as you let him suck you through your high. He pulled up to look at you, smirking as he started drinking your cum, thumb on your clit. You were on fucking fire, still recovering from before, and now he was bringing you up to his face. He pinned you down, devouring you instantly.

He’d brought his hands up to rub your nipples between his fingers while you fucked his face. You didn’t know where all this nerve came from, presumably because he’s made you cum twice now, the third one about to join. But you honestly didn’t give a fuck. If he had the balls to eat you as good as he was doing, you could care less. Because his tongue was just too damn distracting. You began to grind your pussy on his face, not even considering his ability to breathe; it’s not like he was concerned about it. You were moaning his name lover and over, he pulled them out of you more frequently as you felt your body giving in again.

“Choso, I’m, I, fuck!”

Hit me with your sweet love…

Fuck, he was so good. You couldn’t help but fall over as he kissed you, soft and sweet. With a careful hand, he brought your leg up, pulling it away from the other so he could get in between them. Your body was practically begging him, waitin’ so long for his touch. As he began removing his clothes, he continued this little conversation. It was really pissing you off.

“Hm, that doesn’t make sense then, does it?”

“You’re more than a friend, Choso.”

At this point, he’d taken everything but his boxers off, bringing his body back up to sit on top of yours. He kissed you as he fingered your pussy again, making you squirm under his touch, he was making you feel a lot of things you hadn’t really felt before, definitely more than your vibrator had done. He brought your cum out of your pussy, rubbing it over his dick as he looked down at you.

“More than a friend, huh?”

Choso kissed your neck as he slid his dick in, holding your hips as he rolled his into yours. He was painfully slow, pulling out to sink back in. Fuck, it was torture.

“Yes, Choso! Now fuck me, please!”

“No problem.”

He slammed his hips into yours, you couldn’t hlp but groan his name, making him grip you tightly as he fucked you, forehead meeting yours so he could look you in your eyes.

“When was the last time you got fucked?”

“Months ago.”

“So, you decided you just wanted me to eat your pussy one day?”

He began that slow pace again, what was he a fucking detective? You decided to just tell him the truth, hopefully then he’d shut the fuck up.

“No, I liked you for a while! Thought you didn’t like me ‘til I met you in the library!”

Guess that satisfied him, ‘cause he hit that sweet spot inside you as you moved your hips to meet his, hands brushing through his hair as he gave it to you right where you needed him. You pressed your tits against his chest as he fucked you into the bed, practically screaming his name every time he’d give you a hard thrust.

“I want you, princess.”

To be fair, you hadn’t really entertained any of the guys who wanted you; they’d just ogle you, but you wanted someone who’d claim you. Make you his. And Choso was doing it. He fucked you like no one had ever done before, sucking hickeys all over you that you were sure you didn’t have enough concealer to cover up. Then, there was the way he’d moan into your ear. Sometimes your name, but mostly baby, princess, beautiful. He was taking you higher and higher, and you didn’t wanna come down.

“Then, I’m yours.”

Steal me with a kiss.

That made him feral. He fucked you faster, keeping your hips still so he could fuck you how you needed it. Your body was practically begging to cum again, all but throwing yourself at him. Finally, you came, gripping his shoulders as you moaned his name into the room, eyes rolling back and mouth wide open as you came for the third time that night. You honestly didn’t know you had it in you; he was right behind you, gripping the headboard as he fucked you through his orgasm, whimpering your name as he fell to pieces inside you, your hands just falling to your side, too fucked out to move.

I'm gonna be your bubblegum bitch….

Choso fell beside you and looked over; you were pretty damn tired; he made you cum over and over again, like a song on repeat. He’d helped you put your clothes back on, carrying you down the stairs and out to his car, getting you in it and starting it.

“Ima take ya home, okay?”

You perked up a little, grabbing his arm and wrapping around it. No way you were going home! Why’d you wanna go back there when you could sleep with your boyfriend?

“Wanna go home with you!”

“Whatever ya want, princess.”

He gripped your thigh as he drove off, returning to his dorm. He carried you to his room, helping you get into one of his t-shirts, such a good guy, makin’ you feel all safe. Both of you in the bed, he pulled you into his chest as you got comfortable. You look up at him, smiling a bit as you yawn.

“Night, baby!”

You kissed him quickly and laid back down, drifting off to sleep.

Consider this mission complete ;)

I'm gonna be your bubblegum bitch!

♱ the song used in this story is bubblegum bitch by marina and the diamonds. 🖤

♱ masterlist.

♱ all fics playlist.

𝖆𝖚 𝖗𝖊𝖛𝖔𝖎𝖗, 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖑𝖞𝖗𝖚𝖎𝖓.

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upat4amwiththemoon · 10 months

Note

Love your writing. Could you do one that R is Maya Bishop’s sister and is training for the Olympics. She is stressed about her Olympic tryout the following week and is hoping her sister can calm her fears and nerves. Reader kind of barges into her sister’s apartment with very bad timing catching Maya and Carina in a heated discussion which is a little triggering to R bc Lane is being terrible and placing all sorts of pressure in R. Maya and Carina help Reader calm down and feel better.

Under water

Summary: It’s hard to be your father’s favorite child when your sister has an olympic gold metal.

Pairing: Maya Bishop x sister!reader, Marina

Warnings: I have zero knowledge of the Olympics or swimming as a competitive sport, Lane is an abusive father

Word count: 874

a/n: What’s your passion? Swimming. I really like swimming.

masterlists | guidelines

Y/N is running towards Maya and Carina’s house, having lost her car privileges, because according to her father, she needs to use every minute of her life to train for the Olympic tryouts. Even going to her sister’s house.

Her legs are screaming at her to stop, or even slow down her pace, but she can’t afford to slack off. She needs to be the best, just like her sister. You need to be more like your sister. Your sister was a lot more serious about this than you are. Did you know your sister has a gold metal from the Olympics? The sentences run through her head as she pushes herself to speed up on the last meters. Considering the way her father uses her sister’s success against her, it’d be easy to become bitter to her too, but Y/N loves her sister. Maya is her safe place. Has been since she was born.

Panting slightly, Y/N comes to a stop in front of Maya and Carina’s house. She does a few harsh knocks on the door, but decides to just open the door with an extra key she got from the couple. She steps inside and closes the door behind her, immediately hearing loud voices coming from the living room.

“Hello?” She calls out, not wanting to walk in on anything she shouldn’t be a part of, but no one seems to hear her. Y/N starts walking towards the shouting, her heartbeat fastening with every step.

“You know that isn’t how it works!” Maya’s loud voice boom through the house. “I can’t just-” the sentence gets cut off by a groan.

In the logical part of her brain, Y/N knows Maya is nothing like their father, but the way she sounds when angry is so similar to him. Her breath hitches as a bang comes from the living room. All the memories of Lane throwing something her way coming up. “Shit.” She mumbles, leaning against a wall to calm down.

“I can’t talk about this right now.” Carina sighs, walking out of the living room, but stopping the moment she sees Y/N in their house. “Maya!”

“What n- oh.” Maya stares at Y/N, instantly worried of her. “What are you doing here?” She sets her hand on her arm.

“I was just really stressed about the tryouts and dad, so I wanted to come here, but then you two were fighting and I didn’t know what to do, and I-“

“Hey, hey, hey,” Maya pulls her into an embrace, “it’s okay. You’re okay.” She rubs her back. “I’m sorry you heard that.”

“What did your father do?” Carina asks, also setting a hand on Y/N’s shoulder once she pulls away from the hug. Maya glances at her girlfriend at the question, but doesn’t comment on it.

Y/N shrugs, leaning to the touch. Ever since Maya started dating Carina, the Italian has become another safe place for her. “Telling me to train a lot, gives me no breaks, yells,” she hesitates for a moment, “sometimes he throws stuff.”

Maya and Carina look at each other, the latter has a look on her face that Y/N can’t decipher. It looks like the subject makes the couple tense. “Has anything hit you?” Y/N avoids eye contact at the question, which makes Maya ask it again, “has anything hit you? Are you hurt?”

“It’s not a big of a deal. He wants me to do well on the tryouts and get a gold medal like you did.”

Rubbing her forehead, Maya starts pacing. ”It is a big deal, honey.” Carina’s hand goes up to brush her hair. She has a worried look on her face. “He is abusive.”

“Carina.” Maya speaks up. “He just- he wants us to succeed. He is the reason I have my medal.”

“Don’t say that stuff in front of her.” Carina whispers, as if Y/N wouldn’t be able to hear her. “He is hurting your little sister, Maya. He hurt you. He is not a good father.” The conversation is starting to get heated again. Clearly this was the subject of their earlier fight too. “I know you don’t want to accept it yet, but you have to agree that she’d be better off with us.”

Y/N frowns. Were they talking about her? “We’ll talk about it later.” Maya mumbles, turning back to her sister, clearly ending the conversation. “Carina cooked some lasagna earlier today, you want some?”

“Dad said not to eat too much.”

Biting the inside of her cheek, Maya shakes her head and pulls Y/N to the kitchen. “Well, I say you eat some lasagna. And then the three of us can watch a movie, okay? You’ll sleep over this night.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” Carina speaks up, having followed them to the kitchen. “We’ll paint our nails and do our hair, have a pillow fight,” she laughs, “all the things they do in those American films, right?”

“Okay.” Y/N nods with a smile, already feeling like a small weight has been lifted. She knows it’ll all come back when she goes back home, but for now, she’ll enjoy Maya and Carina’s company.

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lightwing-s · 1 year

Text

𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐊__ 𝐘𝐎𝐔

pairing: jason todd x villain! fem! reader

summary: there should be a clear hatred for those you fight against, but nobody told y/n and jason about it.

rating: 16+

word count: pasmem 8,2k warnings: sex jokes, heavy make out session, foreplay

a/n: it took me long, but i hope this long ass post makes up for all the time it took me to write it. i really hope you enjoy this one, as i had a lot o fun writing it, and please let me know what you think about it once you're done reading ♡.

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! ♡

pt ii

⌜masterlist⌟ ⌜requests⌟

… Explosion at the Yacht Basin. The Tiffany is being exhibited. Hurry.

“Just two miles south.” Jason responded. “On my way.”

Speeding up his motorcycle on the busy and wet streets of Gotham, Jason makes a sudden u-turn and heads back in the opposite direction he was once going. Swerving around the cars, trucks and other motorcycles, he hears back honks and curse words be thrown at him, but he doesn’t care. The adrenaline has woken his body. He can even feel the air blowing on his face, even behind the scarlet helmet composing his vigilante outfit.

He had been starving for action all night. His body needed it. Bruce had been an asshole. Roy had been an even worse ass, and there were tons of other people that had been pissing him off all day. All this built up anger made his body beg for some sort of release, he needed this extra energy gone, and punching someone on the face seemed like a very plausible solution to his problem.

Failing to follow his own mind, telling him to be more careful with his driving after the last incident — that had him not being able to rise from his bed from how much pain his body was in —, he drove so fast his speedometer was hitting it’s other end. He’d definitely get scolded for it at any minute by Barbara through the coms, and not being in the mood for that, he turned his communication off.

As he got closer to the marina, the smoke and fire became more and more evident through the gaps between all the skyscrapers surrounding the road. Pinkish flames flaring up here and there, climbing up the marina’s main building, and releasing smoke fuchsia toned. Upon that sight, Jason’s blood began to boil even hotter than it already was, and if possible, he sped up even more.

Recently, pink flames could only mean one thing in Gotham: Cupid. New psycho in town, got this name from Carmine Falcone himself, for her love to use crossbows and arrows and the hazed state his men were left by the mere sight of her face. Having had the displeasure of meeting her countless times, Jason knew her face pretty well, even if she kept it’s bottom mostly covered. And he was glad she did, as he could not stand the smirk planted on her lips as she managed to piss him off to no end.

She was a good thief, fast and stealthy, to the point one could have her in his hands but blink a little too slow and lose her to the shadows. Smart enough to keep herself out of the records for months, misdirecting her actions to random people, until one she had an accidental run into Robin and Spoiler when leaving Gotham’s Museum of Antiquities with a full bag of stolen artifacts and no sound coming from any of the alarms.

Also, she was really annoying, knowing just the right things to say and do to get under Jason’s skin. And she would linger there for longer than he’d like to admit.

Scared citizens still ran out of the building when he got there, coughing and barely being able to breath due to the exposure to the toxic smoke. Leaving them in the care of the firefighters that had arrived a bit sooner than he did, he darted inside. Knowing pretty well how his opponent worked at this point in time, he got to the room where he was certain he'd find her.

Displays of very expensive jewelry filled the otherwise empty room. It was dark, but the few lights that came in from the glass ceiling — from the moon, the street lamps and the fire burning outside — hit the jewels and the stones, who in turn reflected them beautifully making an almost perfect show of lights that could make many nightclub owners out there feel pretty jealous of the image they could never replicate. Almost perfect because right where he stood he could see the central piece of the exhibit was missing, the big yellow diamond out of sight.

No alarm sounds, no security system activated.

“Looking for this?” asked a voice from behind him, soft, sultry and mysterious. What wasn’t soft, though, was the clicking sound of a pistol unlocking and being settled at the nape of his neck. “Don’t worry, I won’t shoot. I like you too much to hurt you, Red. And also, I don’t want to ruin your face before I get the chance to see it with my own eyes.”

“Give back the diamond, Cupid” he demanded through gritted teeth.

“Oh, they have so many here, they won’t notice I only took one.”

With a swift movement, Jason threw his arm back with force and locked Cupid’s arm under his own, making her drop the gun somewhere far he could only see through the side of his eyes. Now, facing the villain, he kept her arm tightly wrapped around his, somewhat careful to not hurt it while keeping control of the situation.

“I thought guns weren’t your thing.” he said, tightening his hold and making her groan.

“I’m keen on exploring new kinks” she replied. “C’mon, Red! We don’t need this. We’re friends, I can send you a gift card once I sell this to the black market” and with an even quicker movement, Cupid released her arm from Red Hood’s grip and spun around, kicking at his face. Jason dodged it and threw a punch at her that she also skipped, though only for mere inches.

Hitting the back of his knee with another kick, the villain managed to make the hooded hero fall to his knees for a brief moment, giving her an opportunity to run out of the room. Jason darted after her straight away, following her through the corridors and up the stairs, then reaching the glass ceiling of the exhibit. She ran with ease on top of the steel bars holding the glass up, opening a gap between the two of them as Jason, much larger and heavier, had more difficulty in doing the same.

Soon, they exchanged the glass ceiling for a concrete roof when they got on top of the neighboring room. Chasing her dark suited body, he managed to shorten their distance a little when she jumped a small gap and fell onto another building, him not taking long and getting there as well. It was the main structure on fire, the heat from below reaching his forearms, the only part of his body left exposed, unprotected by his jacket.

“Into fire play, Cupid?”

“Ha!” she laughed at his joke, throwing her head back mid run. “Works as a great distraction.” she shrugged.

She was certainly faster than him, reaching the end of that building much sooner, lowering down and grabbing a bag that must have been left there beforehand. Out of it, she took her pistol sized crossbow and turned to him. Not wanting to get shot, Jason zigzagged his way to her, trying to run as fast as he could.

After the sound of the weapon activating, an arrow flew right by his shoulder, cutting a string on his leather jacket. Strike one, thought the vigilante. Nobody does that to his jacket.

This time aiming the gun at the higher building, she shot it and the arrow hooked on the stair house wall. Finally reaching the end of his run and almost at arm’s range with the thief, he jumped in her direction, trying to catch her mid flight, but only just touching the sole of her boots. She was up in the air, flying to the other building, and landed on it with gracious ease, as a pretty bird landed on someone’s finger.

“Pray to catch me, Red” she taunted him once she settled on the other side of the tall gap.

Groaning in frustration, he threw off his jacket, incredibly hot to the touch from being near the fire, and feeling a sting of pain hit his shoulder as he noticed a bleeding wound adrenaline didn’t allow him to see earlier in the same spot his sleeve had been laying on.

“Oh, Red.” she screamed at him, attracting his attention. “I swear you couldn’t turn me on more than you already did, but wow!” sliding her back down the wall of the stair house, she sat on the floor, her legs slightly spread in his direction.

“Shut up!” he screamed back, all his build up frustration sounding through it.

“Oooh come make me…” she moaned, throwing her head back, exposing her glistening neck. Anger blew through his nose, and standing on the edge of the roof, Jason took his grappling gun from his utility belt and aimed it at top of where her arrow still stood. Being soared into the air, he was mere inches from reaching the parapet when he felt his body lose all weight and descend to the floor. His heart fell just as hard, as he noticed the cut wire that once held him up slide right past his face.

However, when he thought the floor was his only destination at that point, strong arms held onto his own, keeping him from falling.

“Thought I was gonna let you die in front of me?” questioned that same sultry voice.

“You fucking cut the wire! What did you want me to think?” he replied, grinding his teeth.

“I removed your hook from the wall” she corrected, matter of factly. “And I did it so we could have a little fun. It was getting boring up here. All alone”

The seductive way she finished her sentence made Jason’s voice put up and look directly at her face. Her lowered eyebrows and the pout she had on her bottom lip — plumb, red and glossy ones — made his stomach turn. Strike two, I hate pouty lips.

Using his free arm to grab onto the railing, he forced his body up with her assistance. He put one of his legs over the parapet and managed to finally set his feet on the ground. He shouldn’t have been affected by what happened. He was used to heights, he knew he could shoot his grappling gun again, he knew nothing would happen. Yet, it did affect me.

His heart was beating fast, his breath caught in his throat. Laying his hand on his tights, he tried to steady his it, to relax his shoulders, and ease his body back to normal. For a brief moment, he imagined himself falling into the fire, the image of being consumed by it scaring him way too much.

“Here, big boy. Take a seat” Cupid forced him on his butt and made him rest his head on the railing. “Jesus, you’re not into rope play? Noted.”

Clicking her tongue, she lowered herself to his level and placed one hand on his knee.

“Really… I want to kill you.” he shook his head, removing his hands from under hers.

“Thought your killing days were over, Red.” she stated, hands going to her waist. “Sadly, it’s not gonna be tonight you get to realize your dream.”

Standing up and wasting no time, Cupid grabbed her crossbow, unloaded it and hit it against the back of his ear — or where she assumed it rested inside the helmet. The clicking of metal into metal echoed in his ears, making him lose his senses for a bit.

It seemed like it wouldn’t stop, the sound reverberating under the helmet. He tried to stand up, but his balance was poor, nearly making him fall once again. Holding his head, he tried to stop the sound, but it was useless. Taking off the helmet was a no no, even if the clear best solution to his pain.

Deciding that loosening it might make the situation better, he pressed the button that would free his skull, but he did not remove the helmet from it’s place. Not long after, the agonizing noise came to a halt, his sight stopped spinning, and he finally could stand up just fine.

But Cupid was gone. Lost to the night, and not a single sign she was even up there with him at some point could be spotted around.

If he hadn’t accumulated frustration enough all night until this point, he was sure that now he had reached maximum storage. Punching the wall, he let go of some of it, but certainly not enough.

Three nights ago, Jason let Cupid escape. Three nights ago, Jason got scolded by Bruce for letting the Tiffany diamond go missing. Three nights ago, he could only think of one thing, and that thing has stayed in his mind ever since.

Tonight though, he would finally put an end to his mental torture.

The heavy sound of rain soon faded as he entered the batcave’s tunnel system, being then exchanged by the echoing sound of his engine against the hollow corridors. The darkness and the cold of that place once made him extremely uncomfortable, but after so long visiting those places, he felt embraced by it, and the solitude, the feeling of leaving the whole world behind, turning it off of his head, made him feel at home.

Underground, he found the metro trails of Gotham’s subway system. This first one he spotted was from an old abandoned line, a new one had been set to finish its construction by the late 2000s, but that clearly did not reach that goal, now resting here, forgotten.

Driving through the empty tunnels, following the directions his computer board had given him, and reaching the marked spot on his screen, he made his motorcycle come to a stop, turning it off, getting down from it and making the rest of his way on foot.

He didn’t really know what he was looking for, but he was warned by Oracle of an explosion caught by the radar. The smell of smoke was present during his ride, but there was no sight of fire. Leaving his headlights on, it helped him find his footing around the area, where he could barely see the tubes and wires drawing parallel lines on the concrete walls, nor the weird engravings he had no idea who — and how — had put them there. Standing still, he quieted his breathing and took some time to listen.

The howling of the wind, the timed buzzing of electricity running through the cables and the distant sound of trains following their course filled Jason’s ear, but something else caught his attention. It was the slight sound of rocks moving to his left that made him turn around and face exactly who he wanted to see.

At the blink of an eye, he had her under his gun’s aim.

“Certainly, this terrain doesn’t favor me at all, does it Red?” she taunted, hands held up in the air like a culprit caught by the police. This time, she had her regular all black attire on, but had no mask and wore a hooded jacket, much like his own. “What do you think? Does it suit me?”

“Where’s the fucking diamond?”

“Sold to the black market. Is this all you can talk about?”

She was quick. She had to be, a diamond as expensive as the Tiffany wouldn’t last long in her hands if word got around she still had it for this long. He knew she had to have a buyer even before stealing it. Yet, Jason innocently thought he could have gotten to her before she managed to trade it.

“Didn’t know you were working for Cobblepot…” he questioned. He had been sent here because they knew Penguin was out and about, planning something for some time, but that they weren’t sure on what it was. Finding her here meant she was somewhat involved in his business, and he didn’t know why and how that was made possible.

“Working with Cobblepot” she cut him off, rolling her eyes in annoyance. “And not by choice.”

“For what then? Doesn’t seem to me like he’s the best match for your skill set.” he commented, interested in knowing why this pairing was ever formed. Penguin was a crime boss who would steal everything and anything that could get him richer, and he had worked with some of the best along the years, although not the best partner they had ever had. Yet working alongside a Cupid seemed especially strange this time, as she had only been on their records for a couple months, and Penguin isn’t much keen on working alongside new flesh. And also, from the little bit he knew about her, she preferred working alone.

“For I have no other choice.” she answered, and he could have sworn her voice had a little crack somewhere between those words. “I guess I should’ve picked a buyer more carefully. Next time I try to sell some stolen goods I’ll have that in mind.” she threw her shoulders back and continued. “Beginners curse. I’ll learn things through time and find the right people who I can trust. I did find you after all, right Daddy?”

Say what?! she caught him off guard. What did she just fucking call me?

“I’m not your fucking Da…” lowering his gun, grunting, he stoped himself from saying the last word.

“Oh? Why can’t you say it?” she mused, excited by his excitation from saying the word. “Say it!”

“Stop.”

“Say it, Red.” she challenged.

“No!” he screamed back, while she continued to taunt him. At a distance, his ears heard the succinct sound of a train coming in their direction and he started to notice the peebles jumping up on the ground. He also noticed Cupid standing right at the middle of the railing tracks. “Cupid, get out of there.”

He tried to plead, but she still happily sang to him to repeat the D word.

“The train is coming! Do you want to die” he got closer, but nothing. She didn’t even flinch at the words train and coming being thrown at her.

“Y/n, move!” he screamed.

“Oh, you know my name?” her eyes widened as she seemed to have grown more excited at the thought he knew her identity. “Only fair you give me yours now.”

Crossing her arms on her chest like a little child would do to its parents, she continued to ignore Red Hood’s pleas as the train announced itself to them by shining it’s lights in their direction.

“C’mon” he grunted, but she still didn’t move.

“Tell me your name” she sang.

“Damn it, it’s Jason. Now fucking move.” He was desperate at this point, as she made no indications she was moving out of the way. Fearful, he started walking in her direction.

“Now, say dad-dy…”

“FUCK!” he screamed and rushed his steps. Getting to her, he jumped into the tracks and held her by the arms, dragging her alongside him out of the railway and onto the opposite wall, fast enough to have the train pass behind them and over the spot she was standing on a second later..

“Why didn’t you fucking get out?” he asked, completely exasperated, pushing her away from his hold.

“You wouldn’t let me die would you?” she pouted at him once more, aggravating his nerves and making him moan in frustration. Why is she so fucking difficult?

“I would kill you if I could.” he stated, getting closer to her face.

“What's holding you back? Papa bats wouldn’t let you?”

Clenching his wrists, trying his best to not throw a punch at her yet and doing his best to hold his anger, he answers through gritted teeth. “I’m past that”

“A mature man”

“Jesus fucking Christ, you’re annoying”

“It’s a talent I’ve curated through the years.” she stated, proud of herself for being an irritating little shit.

“What are you doing down here anyway?” he questioned, remembering his job and the orders he had received earlier.

“Ah…” she looked up, as if trying to remember herself. “Distracting you.”

“Huh?”

“Penguin is planning something tonight and told me to take you out of his way.” He didn’t notice she was this close, but her hands were not at his collar. She fixed something in his chest he failed to see a problem with, her hands sliding up and down his chest.

Shit, Jason thought. He had to get back.

Grabbing her wrist, he removed her hands from his jacket and threw them far away from him. Turning around, he was dead set into returning to the surface. “Oracle, this was a distraction. Penguin is…”

“...Robbing the entire exhibit at the Yacht Club. Yeah, we figured that out. Where were you? Everyone is heading there now.”

“I’m on my way too.” he cut the conversation short, running to his motorcycle.

“Hey, Jay?” he rolled his eyes at the sound of her voice, still walking to his vehicle and getting on top of it. “Could you give me a ride?”

“You gotta be kidding me” he whispered to himself. Looking back at her, arms on her side and big eyes innocencly staring at him, he really wondered if she was being serious or not. What was stopping him from giving her a ride and locking her up afterwards? In fact, that seemed like a very good idea to him. Having her right there, sitting behind him and holding his body, he could be sure she wouldn’t go anywhere…

“My my, you’re actually considering it?” she smirked, breaking him out of his thoughts. “You should go, Red. The sooner you trap Penguin, the sooner I’ll be free.”

And turning her back to him, she disappeared into the darkness once again. This time, he made his way into the shadows right after.

By the time they all had got to the exhibit, the jewels were already gone.

Penguin’s meticulously crafted plan was a success. He had each and every member of the family busy with different affairs, seemingly unrelated, and within large enough distances to the Yacht Basin, that if anyone was seen moving in its direction, they would have enough time to clear the area before they got there. And everything went as planned.

They all wondered, how could they have been tricked like that? So under their noses, so obvious looking on the outside. Yet, they were played like little children.

“We are trying to keep this out of the news until we understand how it all happened. The National Museum won’t be happy with this.”

“We’re working on getting as much information as possible, Commissioner. Penguin can’t have gone too far, this fast.” Batman stated. “These jewels are still in Gotham, and we’ll find them.”

“Good. Otherwise the mayor is gonna want both our necks hanging by morning.” Commissioner Gordon replied, pushing his glasses up his nose bridge and fishing for a cigar he knew he had hid somewhere inside his coat’s pocket.

Hearing their conversion from a few feet away, Jason and Dick watched as the two of them said their goodbyes, and Bruce, in his mighty black cape and cowl, made his way towards the two standing in the corner.

“Are you sure the jewels are still in the city?” Dick questioned, a subtle hint of doubt hidden in his voice, but not daring yet to completely cut this theory out of the question.

“No planes or ships were spotted on the radars. Fleeing the city with millions in gold and jewelry is not going to be easy after the police closed all road exits.” looking back at the Commissioner for a moment, he continued. “Barbara responded that all cameras at the Yacht club were conveniently turned off earlier. But she got a hold of the street vigilance records and caught a truck with suspicious actions coming and going down the street that leads here.”

Walking between Dick and Jason, he ignored their questioning looks and continued.

“I’m taking the batmobile back to the cave. Gather more information on the truck’s route and possible destinations. I need you two on the streets, be my eyes and ears. If anything happens, you need to call me. Immediately” he demanded, blending with the shadows and making his way out of this place, leaving the two brothers all alone.

“I can’t believe Harley was with Penguin on this one.” he heard Dick start. “I was so sure she was trying to break the Joker out of Arkham again. I only realized something was wrong when she was taking too long to take some action .”

His brother’s little adventure with Harley Quinn was at the bottom of the list of things he was interested in at the moment. While he continued to ramble about it, his mind was constantly drawn back to the tunnels and to her.

The way she could get under his skin so easily was something he couldn’t figure out how and why happened. There was only one other person who could do it as easily, but the Joker had killed him in the past, making the reason for his hatred for the Clown Prince of Gotham completely reasonable. On the other hand, he had only known Cupid for some time, met her less than his finger could count, and she really had not done anything more than antagonize him and actually save his life once.

And also, she was kinda hot. It irked him tremendously to even have thoughts about this, but he had to be honest with himself and admit — to him only, and nobody else — that he did have a small, very slight, very little, thing for Y/n. But that was all physical, he only thought she was insanely attractive. She could work her body and her words, clearly, and he was just stupidly weak to have fallen for charm.

“What did he do to keep you away?” Dick asked, having Jason’s attention back to him.

Jason considered if he really should tell his brother or not of what kept him away for so long. He had joked before about how much he seemed to find her out during patrol, and how she often got the best of him, leaving him empty handed. When they found out her real identity, Dick caught a glimpse at how Jason stared at her pictures a lot longer than he usually would.

Coming to a conclusion, he answered without shame. “Cupid.”

Just by hearing her name, Dick’s smile spread on his face, although he’d keep trying to hold it back, his mind getting funny ideas of what the two of them were doing down in the underground.

“It seems like you’ve been finding each other quite a lot recently,” he stated.

“Uh-huh” Jason hummed, agreeing with him but limiting himself to a short and final answer, knowing pretty well where this conversation would go if he stood around for too long. Ignoring anything else Dick had to tell him, he mounted his bike and drove away to work on finding the jewelry truck.

Hours later, when the sun was getting close to coming out of hiding, Jason stood under a railroad bridge, quietly watching the rain fall harshly down the sky and form large puddles on the asphalt. He had been riding his motorcycle all night, looking for that truck or any other indication of Penguin’s work. He drove and drove, but got nothing.

Now, standing there, he had difficulty keeping his eyes open. He awaited something. Something to happen to bring energy back into his night. Something to keep him busy and away from his own thoughts that had been torturing him all that time.

The rain hitting the metal structure over his head was soothing, and did not help his attempts to not fall asleep. Sometimes, a vehicle would pass by his spot and jolt him awake, or water accumulated somewhere would fall down all at once, making a huge noise out of nowhere. Other times, he’d hear mice or the sounds of footsteps coming up top, but would see nobody, animal or human, out there. Worst of all was when trains would pass by the bridge and make everything in a two mile radius to shake.

Tired mind meant thinking of things he wouldn’t want to think about when his mind was properly awake. He closed his eyes and could hear the sultry sound of her voice, or smell the spicy scent of her perfume. He needed to see her again. He needed to let off some steam, all that stored frustration. He needed to see her and make sure she had forgotten about his name. Remembering he did that, he threw his head back and released a heavy sight. It was stupid to have said it, and he didn’t know why he kept doing stupid shit whenever she was around.

Feeling safe in the loneliness, he took off his helmet and got some much needed fresh air. He leaned forward and laid his head down on his motorcycle’s panel, ready for a nap. Bruce wouldn’t notice. Penguin must have already left the city somehow and this whole night of waiting was for absolutely nothing.

Losing to tiredness, he began to dream of meeting Y/n and talking to her again. But the dream wasn’t long, because when he was getting to the good part, something made him jump out of his sleep.

“Is the night too much for the incredible Red Hood?” asked a voice he did not recognize and who he could not see, hiding from the lights, but who he felt came from right behind him. The voice was followed by the sound of two, or was it three, sets of footsteps approaching him.

“Or did that arrowed cunt give you the kiss of death too?” joked another voice, clearly familiar with the first one. Jason still could not see them yet, but knew very well where they stood.

“Are you guys scared to come out of the dark?” he taunted them. “It’s easy to tell me shit when I can’t see who I’m supposed to be fighting with.”

“Isn’t this guy is fucking cocky, Dan?” the second voice commented.

“How many of your friends have left with all working limbs after finding me during a night at their job?” Jason inquired, smirking at the men in the darkness, proud of his high rate of beat down assholes.

“One as many punches I’ll be gifting your face tonight.” one of them replied.

“Then come and get me.” he challenged, arms open in a call for battle.

Upon his call, two tall men left their place in the shadows and ran in his direction. One of them was skinny, and held what Jason identified as a knife in his hands. The other, smaller and a bit heavier, had something shining between the base of his fingers. Standing up from his bike, he cracked his neck, his arms and his fingers, waiting for the action to finally reach him and he slowly paced towards the two guys. Action was on again, baby.

The fact that he was outnumbered did not bother Jason in the slightest, as he defended himself with ease. The other two, although pretty confident when they ran towards him thinking they could give him some bruises, soon found out that defeating the Red Hood was no easy task. Their confidence was rapidly gone.

He managed to divide them. Turning to fight the first one, he grabbed him by his collar, threw him at a metal pillar, causing an echoing sound to reverberate around them, and the man to fall hard on the ground, grunting on the floor and touching his own his to check if they were okay. Now, changing his attention to the other man, he couldn’t find him at first glance, but saw this one trying to sneak around his back and hit him on the head with a large pipe he had found somewhere. Being a smarter fighter, Jason followed him by the noise he was making by breathing, walking and simply existing in around him. Jason knew exactly where he was and avoided the hit. Then, he grabbed the man’s hand and spun his arm around till it made a loud cracking sound and the guy made an even louder and painful scream.

“How many punches did you say you’d give me again?” Jason shrugged. Not a single drop of sweat in his body.

The moaning and groaning of the two guys on the floor were like a symphony to his ears, the perfect credit song for one of his favorite action sequences. Wanting to leave, he looked for his helmet as he didn’t see it where he had left it above his bike. Not on the floor either, and also not rolling to the street.

“Took ill on Thursday, Grew worse on Friday, Died on Saturday, Buried on Sunday”

The words came out of a third voice, perhaps the third pair of steps he had heard along the men’s. But different from the two idiots on the floor, this one definitely activated his fight or flight instincts.

“Solomon Grundy, born on a monday.” The big shadow of the creature turned into flesh and bone, red helmet in hands. Breaking the item as if he was breaking glass, the angry monster threw pieces on the floor, stepped on them with his bare feet and with heavy steps made his way to the Red Hood. “Solomon Grundy, born on a monday”

“Oh shit!” Jason exclaimed as the zombie-like walked closer. “Long time no see, buddy.”

As if disgusted by the nickname, Grundy darted towards Jason, who then ran towards the street in hopes to get more space to fight the big guy. He also hoped the wet asphalt could somehow aid him in bringing down the creature. He deviated several punches, while his own hit the spot a couple of times, but apparently didn’t cause his enemy much pain. Kicking the back of his knees, he made Grundy lose some balance and fall to his knees, giving Jason enough time to think of a plan.

Looking back at his bike, still where he was sitting under the bridge, he decided that the best plan was making a run for it and trying to escape. He didn’t know what and why had Grundy so mad and out of the sewers tonight, as he rarely left his safe spot, but he also didn’t want to stay any longer to figure that out.

“You work for Penguin too, Grudy?” he jokingly asked, making a run to his motorcycle. “Thought of you as better than that.”

“Solomon Grundy… works for nobody” he answered, punching the ground with both of his hands right at the place where Jason had just been standing. Almost out of the street, a car suddenly passed by — for what reason? — and blocked his way, and then another car showed up. Why are all those people driving towards Solomon Grundy? Have they all gone mad?

When he was too worried about the cars and the stupid people driving them, Jason didn’t notice when Grundy approached him and hit him right in his jaw, making him fly across the street. There on the floor, his head spun and everything went blurry as he tried but could not pull himself up from the ground. Damn it, he needed to get out of there.

Getting to his feet, lord knows how, and stumbling to make his way to where he wanted, he heard the swift swish of projectiles flying by his ears, who were then followed by Grundy’s screams and complaints. Two. Three. Four more things hit him, but somewhat running with a spinning head had Jason’s vision go everywhere but nowhere at the same time.

As if that wasn’t enough, suddenly the honking of a car and a pair of headlights were in his face, as he felt the floor shaking from the heavy steps that were also heading his way. Trying to rush, he nearly fell onto the floor yet again, but a loud crash sounded through the whole street and something knocked him down.

His vision was getting darker, and all voices sounded distant, but this one he still could hear clearly.

“Stay with me, Jason. Don’t close your eyes”told him the voice, this time it was soft and sultry. He felt his entire body ache, and his eyes couldn’t stay open even if she begged him. “Hey, Jay.” she called him again, tapping his cheeks with care to try to keep him awake. “Stay with me, please. Stay awake.”

But it was too late. Soon, everything was black.

His head banged with pain. Really, it hurt like crazy. It was not the best sensation to wake up to. His vision still hadn’t settled too, still spinning as he last remembered them. He tried to inspect the room he was in, but he couldn’t identify where he was. He woke up god knows where, but the real question in his mind was in how he got there.

Remembering everything that happened before he blacked out, Jason tried to stand up from the bed he was laid on, noticing his missing shirt and the curatives glued to his chest. He sat at the tip of the cushion, placing his bare feet on the cold floor.

The small room he was in had only the bed he was on and a small table by its side, but it was randomly adorned with small plants, colored glass decorations and a pile of old books at one corner. This didn’t look like neither his or his brother’s home, and it was too small to be anywhere inside the manor. This also did not look like a cell, or a hostage room. It felt too cozy for that.

Gosh, he thought, placing his head on his hands and massaging his temples, I’m knackered.

Forcing his body to comply with his mind, he stood up on his feet, but it immediately felt weak and fell backwards onto the bed.

“Easy, Red” someone rushed beside him, holding his sides to check if he was okay. “You’re still dizzy from all the pain medication I gave. I must admit, I’m not the best doctor you could find.”

“Hmm?” he grunted, confused when he recognized the voice.

“Baby, you were knocked out and saved by Grundy last night. If he didn’t jump after you, you’d have been smashed by that car, like a smashed potato!Jason.” Y/n explained as her face was becoming clear in his eyes. “And I have to be honest here, after finally seeing your face after this long, I can tell you it’d have been a real waste if all of that had happened.”

When this fell to his ears, his hands shot up to his face, noticing his domino mask gone.

“Where am I?” he asked, still groggy.

“At my place.”

“You had the courage to take me to your home?” he questioned, incredulous. Putting her index finger on her lips, she requested.

“Don’t tell anybody.”

“Wh-what…”

“Relax. Just let me check your bruises now that you’re up.” she cut him, grabbing a pastel yellow bag from the table next to the bed, pushing his arms away and settling herself on his lap.

Not believing what was happening, Jason could only stare at her wide eyed as she removed his hair away from his forehead, and cleaned the cuts on his face with a cotton ball.

She was uncomfortably close. Dangerously close to him, and he didn’t know how to react. Her face was mere inches from his, and, as she continued to clean his bruises, he could feel her hot breath hitting his face. He had to blink once, or twice, or thrice, to try to recollect himself and to try and push her away from his lap, but she hooked her lean legs tightly around his waist, silently telling him she wasn’t going anywhere.

“Don’t touch me.” he complained, trying to keep his face away from her touch by awkwardly throwing it back.

“How am I supposed to bandage you up if I can’t touch you?” she rolled her eyes, but he could see a smile gracing her face. Her arms on her hips, she finally had a chance to get a proper look at what she was wearing. She had on a gray tank top and jean shorts that barely covered her legs and left her beautiful tights on display for him to see… and touch, as he placed his hand on top of them “involuntarily”.

“Then get off me” he replied through his gritted teeth.

Pissed off, she straightened her back and looked right into his eyes. Jason suddenly felt small as she proceeded to challenge him.

“Make me.”

And when she didn’t get a response from him, nor a shake of his head or a noise from his throat, she smirked back at him, going back to tending to his wounds.

Jason stood there, quietly and still, watching as she cared for his wounds with utmost concentration. When she was done cleaning his face and chest, after carefully removing the curatives that had been protecting his scratches there, she fished for some medicine to apply on him. She had put everything on the bed, all at an arm's distance so she wouldn’t need to leave his lap to grab anything until she was done.

He winced when she applied an antibiotic cream on his cuts and he felt the itching starting, but she scolded him to get himself together and let her finish with the rest. When he still showed agony on his face, she blew at the spots and softened his pain.

There, on top of him, she was constantly moving. He could feel her crotch sliding against his own, making his mind go places where it shouldn’t be going right now. His hands started sweating, and he tried to clean them on his pants, before placing them again on her legs.

“A-hem” he fake coughted, trying to get her attention. She simply shushed him.

Moving on top of him once again, slightly rising herself from his lap and standing with her knees on the bed, her boobs were then leveled with his eyes. He tried to look away, out of respect, after all he was still raised to be a gentleman, but he lost battle to his worst side, it getting control of him as he threw some glances at her cleavage.

Still on her knees, she lost a bit of balance, almost falling on her back if Jason’s strong hands weren’t at her back ready to steady her back into his lap. A soft thanks left her lips, something that shouldn’t have made his mind go mad, but lord help him, he was going insane.

He was entranced by her. By her beauty, by her kind touch. By her hot breath and the soft smell of coconut shampoo emanating from her hair. He watched her bite her bottom lip in concentration, sometimes switching habits and sucking her cheeks in as she focused on the task at hand.

“Done.” she announced, smiling at him briefly before taking the medicine bag and organizing the bottles, sprays, tubes and bandages inside.

He couldn’t take his eyes off her. He couldn’t look away. And he also couldn’t let her go too far, growing needy of her touch and presence. Growing addicted to finally having her this close. His hands pressed tighter around her waist and tights, impeding her from moving any further.

“You can let me go now, Jason.” And the way she pronounced his name. Oh, the way she pronounced his name. It sounded as if an angel sang him the prettiest of lullabies, or as if the devil seductively listed him all of the most delicious things the world had to give. Her plump lips moved and he got hypnotized.

“I want to kiss you.” he stated, without really thinking of what he was doing.

“You’re drunk on the meds.” she joked.

“No” he shook his head, sitting up straight and getting dangerously close to her face. His lips lingering over hers. They stared at each other's eyes like they were both hypnotized by each other. Nah, they were hypnotized. Their eyes were low but never leaving the other, their breaths mixing together.

Placing a hand on her neck, thumb caressing patterns on her skin, Jason tangled his fingers on her hair and pushed her down onto him. Their mouths collided with each other and moved in perfect synchrony, in the wettest of kisses. Her arms wrapped around his neck, but didn’t stay there for long, as she felt the need to have them all over his muscular chest.

His tongue soon begged for entrance, and she allowed him in without any reluctance.

His hands also roamed her body, desperate to touch her every inch. He drew lines up and down her back, lifting her top all the way to where it reached her bra. He played with its hook as their mouths still danced in the most intense kiss, and unlocked it before she even noticed. He was desperate to take her shirt off, but he didn’t break the kiss. However, hard things had to be done to achieve greatness.

Finally breaking the kiss, he took her shirt off over her head and tried to do the same with her unhooked bra, but her arms locked on her side stopped him from doing it. Before he had a chance to complain, she closed the gap between their lips again, restarting the fire they had briefly put off.

They didn’t let go of each other. There was no need for space, or air. They were consumed by the other taste, the smell, the touch. Starved, actually. Jason was starved. He didn’t know he craved her this bad until he had her in his arms, until her hands roamed all over his body and her hips gridded against his cock with fast movements. When she broke the kiss for air once more, he pouted his lips and she let out a laugh.

“Easy, boy.” she mocked, but soon threw herself on top of him again, laying him down on the bed, scratching his nude chest with her nails, the pain making his pants feel even tighter. As her hands got lower, they soon got to his waist line, where the tightness was making go crazy, agony climbing up his spine anxiously waiting for his release. She played around with the button of his jeans, teasing his patience, caressing his dick over all that fabric. It felt like torture, just as she liked. She like to torture him so bad, and he always knew it. Her hands were full, his side filling them completely, and they kept working their way up and down, often combining the movements with the tightening of her grasp around it and driving him so close to release without even having his member freed.

He was so close, gosh, so close. But then she stopped, his eyes instantly opening as he looked after hers, begging her for an explanation.

“You should rest.” she answered his grunts in complaint, getting off his lap and standing up between his opened legs. He quickly sat up from the bed too, grabbing at the base of her ass, desperately not wanting her to leave him. “I thought you wanted to kill me” she rested her forehead on his, joking at his change of behavior within just a few hours.

“I’m way past my killing days” he said, still out of breath.

She looked him in the eyes once more, staring deep into them. They didn’t hold longing anymore, there was no desire. Instead, her look was soft, warming. He felt safe under it, all his fire suddenly, but not completely, gone. Hooking her bra, she then reached for her shirt he had thrown right behind his back when they were still attached by their mouths. Having to lower herself a little bit to grab it, she provocatively placed her chest right down his nose. Still pumped with desire, Jason kissed the exposed part of her breast, feeling their warmth envelop his wet lips.

“When the effects of the meds are gone” she started, holding his head up by his chin, making him look to her eyes once more. “We can decide if we want to keep playing or not.”

Taking his hands away from her legs, she moved away from him without breaking eye contact. She grabbed a bottle out of the table, taking out of it a small pill. Putting it between her teeth, she walked to Jason, him immediately holding the base of her ass again, and lowered her head so their lips touched one more time. She allowed the pill to drop into his mouth, and as she broke the kiss, he swallowed it alongside all this frustration he could not seem to let off.

Walking out, she left him alone.

He dropped on the bed. Head going back to just moments ago, when she was on top of him and he felt… deep. He felt… he felt his consciousness leave his body. He felt his lids falling, too heavy for him to keep open. He felt it all change, from color to black, once again.

“So, you’re alive?” Dick questioned as Jason stood up for his sofa, protecting his eyes from the sunlight.

Jason was confused. So, was that all a dream?

#jason todd imagine #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #jason todd scenarios #jason todd smut #jason todd #jason todd fanfiction #red hood imagine #red hood x reader #red hood #red hood smut #jason todd x female reader

1K notes · View notes

ghostfacd · 11 months

Text

I CAN’T BE WHAT YOU NEED — LUKE HUGHES

— “STOP IT, STOP IT. YOU’RE BEING MEAN, LUKE.”

pairing; slytherin!luke x hufflepuff!fem!reader

summary; was this the end? you surely hope not, you were so sure luke hughes was the one. not just any boy, but the one. so why was he walking away from you right now? especially when you need him the most?

genre; angst, misunderstanding, both reader and luke get hurt, blackcat!bf luke, golden retriever!gf reader, mentioning of house rivalries, you kinda get an inside look into luke’s thinking, this one’s a long one so put on your seatbelt 🤗

✸ SLYTHERIN!LUKE MASTERLIST

part 2

Luke Hughes was a boy of many things. He was stubborn, cold, smart, athletic, and opinionated. But he was no idiot.

Of course he had heard what people said about the two of you, the most unexpected couple at Hogwarts yet. They’d raise their eyebrows whenever the two of you walked, talking in hushed whispers.

“Didn’t you hear? The Hughes boy is dating YN now, we have no chance! He’s scary as shit,”

“Now why on earth is YN with him? She’s so kind and bubbly and he’s just.. him.”

“He’s lucky he has Quidditch going for him, or else nobody would bat an eye at that snake.”

It used to not bother Luke. He knew he was better than them, call him a narcissist or whatever, but he knew it was true. Why would he get upset over some words spoken by idiots with a brain the size of a pea?

But ever since he started dating you, he started to question himself. Was he really better? Or did he only think that way because it was better than thinking he was a total loser?

Luke agreed with Marina when she sang “cause I feel like I’m the worst so I always act like I’m the best” because Luke truly felt like he was a total and complete loser, so he always acted like he was the best Slytherin to exist. Fake it till you make it, right?

Marina was definitely his favorite artist, there was no doubt in the world. And maybe The Smiths too. God, was he really that depressing?

“What are you listening to Lukey boy?” Jack asks as he swings his arm around Luke’s shoulder. “Whoa, you have gotten tall haven’t you?”

“Have you grown shorter?” Luke asks, pretending to gasp in surprise.

Jack hits him on the shoulder, rolling his eyes. “Very funny you punk. How are you and YN? I’ve been so busy with Quidditch that I haven’t been able to see you and Quinn at all.”

“We’re okay,” Luke shrugs, “I guess.”

“What do you mean you guess?”

“I don’t know Jack, is it stupid of me to be insecure?”

Jack stops in his tracks, making Luke stop as well. He turns to face his younger brother fully before giving him a frown.

“What? Of course it’s not stupid, Luke. What have those assholes been saying about you?”

“It’s nothing I can’t handle,” Luke sighs. “Do you really think I’m a cold asshole who has an egotistical mindset?”

“First of all, what the fuck is an egoistical mindset?”

“Oh,” Luke grins, “how do I dumb this down for you?”

“Shut up and tell me!”

“They’re basically saying I’m a self centered asshat who thinks way too highly of himself. They think I think I’m better than everyone else.”

“Well, do you think you’re better than everyone else?”

Luke wants to say no, but he doesn’t. Instead he says, “of course I think I’m better than everyone else.”

Jack finally starts walking again, patting the younger on the back, “hey, I’m proud of you little man. Your grades are great, you’re a terrific Slytherin seeker—although Gryffindor is way better by the way!—and you’ve really proved yourself to be a good boyfriend. You have every right to have the ‘egoistical mindset’ those people talk about.”

“I guess,” Luke says quietly, looking down at the ground. He doesn’t see you approaching out of your Herbology class with your partner, Rye Anderson.

“Stop saying I guess,” Jack whines, “anyway, your Hufflepuff is here.”

Luke’s mood brightens when he looks up to see you, but instantly drops when he sees your face light up as you talk to Rye.

What he doesn’t know is that Rye is actually gay, and that he’s literally asking about what he should get his boyfriend next week for their date.

“I’m thinking daisies? Is that too cliche?”

“Never cliche to get your man flowers,” you grin. “Luke always gets me flowers.”

“Yeah whatever, you guys are gross.”

You pretend to gasp offendedly, throwing a small playful punch to Rye’s side.

“Luke, don’t blow up,” Jack says slowly as he watches Luke’s face turn into one of jealousy and anger. He knew that look on his brother all too well. They had lived with each other their entire life up until now.

“Oh please,” Luke says as he starts making his way towards you and Rye, “I never blow up.”

This wasn’t entirely false, but Jack couldn’t stop the angry Slytherin now; he was too far from him. He decided to just watch it all unfold, because well, there hadn’t been any good drama at Hogwarts lately.

“Hi,” Luke introduces himself, towering over Rye and you. “I’m Luke, YN’s boyfriend, and you?”

“Rye,” Rye smirks, “and I’m gay Luke, so no need to get your pants in a twist.”

Well that made Luke totally embarrassed.

“Rye and I were just talking about what he should get his boyfriend next week for their date,” you explain, rubbing your boyfriend’s arm in reassurance. “Shall we go Lu?”

“Yeah,” he mumbles under his breath.

Rye tries to hold in his laugh, mainly because he doesn’t want you or Luke to kill him. He couldn’t believe a tall and scary Slytherin such as Luke was suddenly all quiet and shy when he spoke to you. It was a whole new side of the boy that Rye did not know could even exist in this universe.

“Bye Rye!” You say, hooking your arm to your boyfriend’s as you walk off to his dorm.

“Bye YN! Oh, and bye Luke!”

Luke only waves shortly, not even bothering to turn around to the boy.

“That was embarrassing,” he says as soon as he situates himself on his bed. “Shit, that was really embarrassing.”

“It’s okay Lukey,” you say, taking off your sweater and throwing it somewhere in his room.

You had always left your stuff at his place, which was why when his friends came over, they’d see little hints of yellow lingering in the room.

“No, it’s not.” Luke rubs his face, stressed. “It’s like everything I do is embarrassing or just absolute shit.”

“Whoa, where is this coming from baby?” You ask, running your hands through his curls.

“Why are you even with me? We’re completely different. You’re in Hufflepuff and I’m in Slytherin, our houses don’t even like each other.”

“I’m with you because I love you,” you frown, eyes meeting his with so much sincerity that it makes Luke want to curl up in a ball and bawl. “I don’t care about what our stupid houses think. I told you this when I asked you to go to Hogsmeade with me for the first time, remember Lu?”

He did remember. How could he not? You had suddenly popped up into his life that one day after his game with Gryffindor and became the most important person to him in the blink of an eye.

“I don’t want to be that public anymore,” Luke mumbles. “Can we do less of the whole PDA thing?”

Your heart almost drops, worrying about Luke and your relationship. “If that’s what you want Lu, then of course.”

Luke nods. It would be the best for you two to have a little distance between each other. He mainly wanted to protect you from what everybody was saying, but partly because he couldn’t handle their comments. He had loved you so much, and for them to say that he didn’t deserve you—or that you were too good for him fucking hurt like a bitch.

The next two weeks went by like a drag for both you and Luke. The two of you had barely hung out, Luke always making the same excuse of having extra Quidditch practice, and you not questioning him because you didn’t want to start a fight.

The Yule Ball was coming up, and all your friends had been asked by their boyfriends or crushes. It was just you and Luke left.

He had asked you to meet him by the lake at night. Students were prohibited to go out by themselves at such a late hour, but you and Luke were always careful.

He had asked you with a small poster, one that said, “Oh my god look at that face, you look like my next Yule date,” with the back of the poster saying “YULE BALL?”

It was a reference to one of Taylor Swift’s songs, Blank Space; a muggle song that you had been listening to on repeat that Luke knew would be perfect for the ask.

You of course squealed quietly, not wanting to disrupt the sleeping professors and students. You said yes, jumping into Luke’s arms. For the first time in those 2 weeks, the two of you held each other like it would be the last time you would.

It was.

During the Yule Ball, you had entered with Luke, but couldn’t find the tall curly haired Slytherin anywhere after a few minutes.

You decided to talk to Jamie, another Hufflepuff in your year who you were pretty close to.

Luke, who was all of a sudden sweating at the amount of people in the room had gone off to take a drink of water. He didn’t know why he felt this way; you had looked so pretty in your gown and he was one of the luckiest men in the world getting to escort you and be your date. So why did he feel this way? It wasn’t like he didn’t enjoy parties. He liked looking at people go reckless and laugh knowing that it would never be him, and he enjoyed the drinks that were offered.

Which was probably why he was downing a few shots right after his glass of water. He figured alcohol will give him a confidence boost, but it only made him feel worse and gain a headache.

Great, he thinks. It was time to find you.

“YN?” He calls as he pushes through the large crowd of people. He spots you talking to another guy, Jamie, who was also a Hufflepuff.

He almost crushed the cup in his hands when he sees you giggle, throwing your head back as you push Jamie jokingly.

No, he thinks. He wasn’t going to embarrass himself and go over to you angrily like he did with Rye.

Instead, he throws his cup at some random direction, hitting a couple who broke apart from their kiss to yell curses at him. He doesn’t care, all he wants is just to get out of this place and eat his feelings away in his dorm with a Disney movie playing in the background.

“Hey Jamie, I’ll be back, I think I just saw Luke leave,” you say to your friend, frowning as you make your way towards where Luke went off.

“Go get your man sis!”

When you finally see Luke in your vision, you yell out to him. “Lu! Wait up!”

He only walks faster.

“Lu—wait!”

You’re out of breath by the time you finally grab his hand, pulling him back to you. “Lu, why didn’t you stop when I told you to?”

Luke stays quiet, his back facing you.

“Lu, can you at least please face me?”

He finally does, staring at you with his red eyes.

“Oh Lu, what’s wrong?”

He shakes his head. “YN, this isn’t going to work.”

He never calls you YN. It had always been baby, lovely, or even lovie. But never just your name by itself.

“What do you mean Lukey? What’s not gonna work?”

Luke hates how patient and kind you’re being with him. He hates it. Why can’t you just get upset at him? Make this easier for the both of you?

“I mean us. We aren’t going to work,” he takes a sharp inhale, exhaling shakily, “we’re from opposite houses, and everybody says we don’t belong with each other. Our relationship is bound to fail,”

It was as if your boyfriend was suddenly speaking a foreign language. Why was he suddenly saying this? Especially during the Yule Ball? The one night that you two were supposed to be happy together, dancing under the stars.

“Why do you care so much about what they think Luke?” You say, voice quivering from how much you wanted to sob right now, “I told you many times that I don’t—”

“I care!” Luke shouts. He realizes how loud he is the second his words get out. “I care,” he repeats, this time so quiet that if you weren’t in close proximity, you wouldn’t have heard him.

“But you shouldn’t. This is our relationship Luke, not anyone else’s, and especially not those low lives who have nothing else to do but to judge us without even knowing you.”

“Not everybody can be oblivious and carefree like you YN,”

You shake your head. “Stop it, stop it. You’re being mean, Luke.”

This burns through Luke’s chest like wildfire. Sure he’s been called an asshole, even a conceited fuck by a couple of mad Gryffindors after a game, but never mean. And especially never from you.

“I can’t be what you need,” Luke cries. It’s the first time you’ve seen him so emotional. He was never the one to let his emotions get the best of him—his face always set to a blank expression. “They’re right. Aren’t you gonna be sick of having such a boring boyfriend? You deserve so much better. You deserve somebody who isn’t the exact opposite of you, you deserve so much more than me.”

“But I don’t want more,” you now sob, cupping Luke’s face into your hands, “I want you Luke.”

He shakes his head once again, more tears streaming down his face. “It won’t work. Let’s save ourselves the heartbreak and just end it now.”

“No,” you say, hands shaking. “No, I won’t let you end our relationship just because of them.”

“I’m not giving you a choice,” Luke backs away from you, your heart aching at the sudden loss of touch.

“Will you be back?”

“I don’t know,”

He leaves you outside in the dark, sobbing as you fall to your knees, entire body giving out.

“Shhh, it’s okay,” a familiar voice coos as he wraps his arm around your shaking figure. “It’s okay.”

But it wasn’t okay. You had just lost Luke, the boy who you were sure would be the love of your life until you died.

“Come inside YN, it’s raining.” Jack takes off his coat to place over you, your lips trembling as the two of you make your way back into the halls. “You wanna tell me what happened?”

You didn’t even know where to start.

469 notes · View notes

purplelupins · 25 days

Text

Lamb

Midnight Mass

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V

Father John Pruitt/Father Paul hill x fem!reader

Word count:12.3k

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

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

Notes:

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

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

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

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

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

Had you imagined it?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hassan smiled a little.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Body of Christ.” He repeated.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Come on.” He repeated, still calm.

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

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

But still he only stood and waited for Leeza.

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

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

Leeza was standing. Freely.

“Leeza?” Wade asked in disbelief.

A woman across from you fainted as she stood.

Your ears felt all prickly and your fingers felt numb.

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

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

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

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

“Amen.” She said, voice wavering.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You felt your heart.

It hurt.

Ached.

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

It all seemed so…miraculous.

Such a God given gift.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

How?

How…

How did he do that…

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

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

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

Faith…

Did you lack it?

Had you begun to loose it?

Were you so ungrateful?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Be straightforward.

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

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

You took a tight breath.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You blinked. You weren’t expecting that.

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

You shook your head.

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

You let a tear fall as you held his gaze.

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

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

Another tear fell.

Then another.

Then many.

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

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

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

He squeezed your hands.

Had he been holding your hand this entire time?

You took slow shaky breaths until you could speak again.

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

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

You looked up at him, eyes starting to dry.

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

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

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

You nodded, and sniffled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So do you.” The man shrugged nonchalantly.

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

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

You pursed your lips.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Cared for.

Seen.

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

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

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

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

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

Was there something in the air?

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

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

He was at a loss.

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

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

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

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

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

Was he alright?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes he is.” You said.

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

You nodded, and hung up.

“Well?” Bev snapped at you.

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

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

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

He nodded and looked up that the distressed crowd.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Glory be…” Came his whisper.

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

“Slowly, Father…slowly.” Someone said.

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

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

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

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

So silly really.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That caught you off guard.

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

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

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

“I-well I just…-“

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

“Yes…”you admitted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Another shift had begun around you. Off balanced.

You noticed it in small things.

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

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

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

Had you always been so pretty?

Vibrant.

A halo around your hair where the sun caught it.

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

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

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

Just a little.

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

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

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

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

As did his stomach. Painfully.

So hungry.

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

Past your house.

Your curtains were open again.

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

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

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

Now.

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

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

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

More more-

“Uh…Father?”

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

“Oh…Hello Joe.”

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

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

The walk to Mass was slow too.

Off kilter.

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

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

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

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

Something in your stomach curled tight.

An anxious feeling of anticipation.

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

Had it always been so grotesque?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A cord was plucked inside you.

A voice inside you telling you to leave.

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

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

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

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

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

“Come.” Came his voice.

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

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

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

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

“Curious?” You asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Inshallah…” he muttered.

You tilted your head in question.

“Means “God willing.”…” he explained.

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

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

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

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

He looked up at you then.

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

“Aren’t you Christian?” He asked.

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

He shook his head.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Everything was changing.

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

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

Did he just want to fit in?

Was he just curious?

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

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

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

Nervous.

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

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

Oh what a gruesome thought…pull yourself together.

You were spiralling into the morbid.

Tomorrow would be better.

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

GOOD FRIDAY MASS AT 8PM

E4STER VIGIL SUN MIDNIG-

You watched as Sturge finished with the H and T.

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

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

Sturge sighed, “Time being.”

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

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

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

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

Rehearsed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It wasn’t grim, but it wasn’t joyous.

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

You shook yourself.

Stop it.

What’s wrong with you?

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

Nightly Mass.

You pursed your lips.

“Have a minute?”

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

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

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

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

“You know that kid, Bowl?” He asked.

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

Hassan nodded, “You seen him lately?”

You frowned, “Can’t say I have.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Divine Comedy: Dante’s inferno.

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

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

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

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

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

You were afraid.

So afraid.

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

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

“Y/n!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That thought startled you.

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

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

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

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

You felt your throat tighten and your nose prickle.

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

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

Your blood rushed in your ears as Father Hill finished.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You mentally throttled yourself.

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

He noticed.

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

You nodded, “They are.”

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

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

Skittish but still coming to his presence so diligently.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You felt seen.

Appreciated.

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

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

“And you, y/n.” He waved to you.

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

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

You startled a little.

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

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

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

You needed some sleep.

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

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

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

Riley was missing.

Joe was missing.

Pike was dead.

Bowl was missing.

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

How long had Joe been missing…?

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

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

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

You felt alone.

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

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

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

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