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ratrrriot · 11 months

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How do you feel when people call Amy a stalker?

People can call her what they want, however…

Do i think it's fair to call Amy a stalker?

In some of the games? Yes, and even in some of the ones she wasn't a stalker per-se, she still showed possessive and obsessive tendencies. So i get where it comes from...

Generally? No. Her character originally wasn't supposed to be a harasser and she sure isn't one in the present. the franchise has been clearly trying to do better for her these past few years.

I think Amy's changing characterization is an interesting topic of discussion, so even though i technically already answered your question i'll take this chance and proceed to talk about my fave for way longer than i need to :).

Note: This is just my take on Amy and the way i understand her ENGLISH PORTRAYAL. I won't be talking about her japanese one which would deserve its own analysis.

Sorry for any writing mistakes in advance (english is hard) and feel free to correct me if i'm factually wrong about something (i wrote this thing mostly from memory so i imagine i must be.)

Amy has changed A LOT troughout the games and has been in the hands of many different writers across Sonic media ,so when talking about her is important to be specific about what game,series or comic we are talking about (and language),and while i know that some of you might not agree and i respect that, i think that -looking at the subtleties- Amy has had at least 6 different portrayals through the course of the games. That being said,i believe the idea that she is a stalker comes especifically from the characterization they started giving her around 2003

Originally,Amy was envisioned as a sweet 12-year-old kid who had a huge unreciprocated crush on her idol and a passion for fortune-reading ,but who wasn't exactly much of a heroine herself. In the classic era,her place in the narrative was just to serve as a damsel in distress and a cute,funny detail. Ofc,in comics and animated shorts for games like Origins, we have gotten more content of classic Amy being fully independent and capable of defending herself (even more with the upcoming playable mode for her in Origins Plus), but i think we can all see how such aspects of her character weren’t included at the time she was created (only exception being Sonic Fighters)

Especifically in the adventure era (AKA the birth of modern Amy) they gave Amy her iconic strong,compassionate,romantic personality and an interest/love for adventure (and her sassy attitude ofc). She's outspoken,stubborn,brave and honest. I also want to point out that in this first portrayal ,her love for Sonic feels more like innocent childish idolization than an obsession and that her character doesn't revolve exclusively around it (she will stand in his way if she doesn't think what he does is right). Tbh i think she's incredibly funny,cool and lovable,

They slowly started planting the seeds for her character to stop being a "damsel in distress" by making her playable and defeat ZERO all on her own at the end of SA1,then also being playable in Sonic advance and helping Sonic get out of prison in SA2 (and tagging along for the rest of the adventure). In all these games,her character revolves around empathy,optimism and kindness. The way she protects the flicky since the moment she finds it,how she defends Gamma from Sonic and the iconic moment in SA2 where she convinces Shadow to help save earth are all great examples.

THEN, in Heroes , they decided to try something new with her taking her confidence and sassy attitude to a whole other level. Giving her the chance to be a fully-fleshed hero who didn't need rescuing anymore. She became independent and the leader of her own team of friends who she wanted to help. I love this Amy cause she feels really strong,determined and empowered without losing her peppiness,silliness,positivity and kindness. Her flaws are also especially endearing to me: How much of a wild kid she is,How even if she means well, she relies way too much in brute force, How she has trouble getting out of her own head, etc. She really feels just as confident and energic as Sonic,but just like him,you can tell she has a huge heart.

HOWEVER, as much as i love how they made her strength and bravery shine in this game, Heroes was the game that gave birth to the idea that Amy is willing to chase and even fight Sonic just to insist that they should marry (in SA2 she did follow him to the prison but it was only to help him and tag along in the adventure).

Ofc this was supposed to be comedic and to be seen as childish,harmless behavior- I say this because the rest of the characters,including Sonic himself,don't seem to take it seriously- but what was supposed to be seen as an endearing flaw at the time, would rapidly mute into what's probably Amy's worst portrayal ,as the writers turned it into harassment for the next mainline games (Ignoring Shadow the hedgehog where she is the same as in heroes and only has a brief appearance.)

Before i go into Battle,i just want to say that the definition of stalker according to google is “a person who harasses or persecutes someone with unwanted and obsessive attention.” A definition that definitely did not apply to her before Heroes,but that i can't deny that does apply to Amy for the next few games:

In Battle, Amy is suddenly written as aggresive and self-centered. All her compassion and empathy from the adventure era is gone, intimidating people (even Cream) and demanding information from them from the get-go. Of course she does a few good things throughout the game too,like take care of Emerl and such,but she still mainly uses him for her benefit (calories counter and emerald radar). Right off the bat,at the start of her storyline she insists on searching for Sonic even when she herself assumes he is hiding from her -which implies she knows what she's doing is worth hiding for- and tries to justify her behavior by saying that Sonic actually loves her and that he is being “ just shy “ or that “ he got cold feet”- while others characters react in a way that implies that's obviously not the case and that her behavior is worrysome..

I think it's important to mention that before Battle, we hadn’t gotten a single line of dialogue that implied that Amy tought that her behavior could be hurtful for Sonic, nor did she ever threaten anyone at all unless it was self defense. She knew he didn’t reciprocate her feelings and was actively trying to make him fall for her anyways,sure, but we gotta remember that while the canon ages might have been scrapped recently, at the time Modern Amy was created they were still very much canon and you can tell they had them in mind when writing these characters. Amy was supposed to be 12 ,so it makes sense that she didn't understand why Sonic wouldn’t accept her affection. She idolized him and misinterpreted the fact that he always was protecting her as possible romantic interest,but never actually imposed anything on him. The worst thing she ever did to him was wanting to hug him without consent,and again, the games implied that she clearly didn't realize such a thing wasn't ok. Sonic also didn't seem to want to hurt her feelings so while he did run away and expressed being annoyed by her he never explicitly told her to stop. I actually think that if he had sat her down and made it clear to her that what she was doing was truly bothering him, The Amy from the adventure era would have stopped, but i doubt he cared enough to do that honestly (after all ,in his recap screens it is implied that what truly bothers him about Amy being near him is not her crush,but that he thinks shes exposed to danger.)

BUT in Battle and for the next three games,Amy doesn’t seem to be written as a 12-year-old who mistakes admiration for love anymore. This is where the writers started to portray her as someone who is clearly still young and definitely childish but not innocent. Her whole character revolves around harassing Sonic and using her strength to intimidate others, and don't get me wrong,I like that Amy gets angry easily!! i like that she isn't afraid of a fight,that she complains a lot, and that she isn't peaceful. After all,those are important parts of who she is. But Battle!Amy is on a whole other level: she gets mad at her friends just because they don't agree with everything she does or says. It's not about having a strong personality anymore,she's just generally aggressive. For the next few games she and Sonic can't have one normal conversation that isn't Amy imposing her own wishes over him and him trying to get away from her, so it's hard to believe she wouldn't realize that what's she's doing is wrong nor accidental as we were supposed to before. This time It just feels like she is deciding to ignore the signs.

This continued in advance 3 ,where she literally threatens him with her hammer just cause he shows signs of not being interested in spending time with her when they meet, Then in rush she becomes possesive and jealous the second he mentions Blaze and also seems to treathen him with the hammer in the credits scene because he is running from her hug.

They changed the direction of her characterization again after Rush. The best way i can describe the Amy that is present in Riders,06,etc is one that has two very polarized sides to her personality. On one side,she is a peppy,sweet,over enthusiastic and romantic girl, on the other she is a pretty intimidating one with an obsession with Sonic and very fiery temper. However,contrary to her last portrayal,she is more polite and actually asks Sonic if she can come with him various times,doesn't harass him and doesn't threaten people simply cause they don't agree with her anymore, but she still doesn't seem to have any sense of boundaries,still follows Sonic without permission sometimes and still clearly has no consideration for his personal space. Another thing about this Amy is how her flirting is really intense, and even if she isn't as aggressive as the Amy from Battle,if someone messes a bit with her she doesn't hesitate to resort to intimidation or take her hammer out.

She still gets violent towards Sonic sometimes,but what's different from her last characterization is that instead of doing so merely because he doesn't show romantic interest in her ,its mostly because he doesn't follow on his promises (end of Black Knight) or shows up to save her “properly” (Referring to 1- that scene in Riders where he blows eggman -who had caught Amy- away with wind and she chases him with her hammer because “how could he not think that would hit her too “ and 2- the one in Zero Gravity where he arrives late to save her and she playfully throws him a few fists saying that “it took him long enough!”). I don't think she's necesarily right to do that but i don't consider it to be problematic either, since by that point the games had strongly implied that there was a non-spoken agreement between the two that he'll always show up to save her and the whole thing feels more playful than anything else. Mostly because Sonic seems to be fine with her being around again, as he never really denies her acussations or runs away when she gets mad,and even tries to explain himself to her.

So yeah,this Amy is one of the more famous -and infamous- ones,as her negative and positive qualities are more balanced than the one from Battle. However,i personally don't like her much as there's almost no focus on the empathetic/compassionate side of her character that was so prominent in the adventure era and ,even if i wouldn’t call this version of her a Stalker , she's still is way too obsessive and possesive for my liking. The writing for her character is still pretty much completely based on being attracted to Sonic, to the point that In 06 she tells Silver that, if she had to, she'd “choose Sonic over the world".

In Sonic Chronicles , Amy gets a lot of dialogue. She gets jealous in a scene but its not as bad as in Rush and she tries to make Sonic jealous by inventing a fake boyfriend (terrible trope) but her levels of aggressiveness are up to the player's treatment of her. I am ,however , mentioning this game because of a scene in specific near the final section in which Amy is scared they might die and aks Sonic if she can have a moment with him. She then tries to have a serious conversation and politely asks if he cares about her or if he likes her at all. if the player chooses to make Sonic say he does care for her she is legitimately surprised and thankful. Idk what happens If he rejects her cause i haven't been able to find any recordings of that and i never owned this game,but i'll assume that her reaction won't be too bad considering she is asking in the first place(?) feel free to tell me if you know…

This portrayal of Amy is still present in Unleashed (2008) ,in which Amy is there to cheer/support Sonic on throughout the game and to serve as an important indicator that Sonic is quite self conscious of his looks when he's a werehog. She is generally very sweet towards him in this game (especially when she shows no rejection towards his werehog form,which is a detail i adore), even if she does get annoyed when he doesn't pay as much attention to her as he does to Chip or reciprocate her feelings.

A good example is how, before the last temple ,she asks him if he'd like to go on a date with her after everything is over. If you choose the positive dialogue option she is ,again, positively surprised and thankful. If you make him say no she complains about how he's being mean, but doesn't insist on it and just accepts it.

In Free Riders (2010) ,Amy just generally acts extremely out out of character (like,she doesn't even fit into Battle's portrayal). It really feels like someone who didn't know anything about the character wrote her, so for the sake of the pink hedgie let's ignore it and go back to talking about portrayal 4.

I already mentioned her brief apparition in Black Night and there's nothing worth mentioning about her in Generations so i'll skip them.

This portrayal ended in Lost World (2013),In which they toned down Amy as a character in general,leaving out all of her flaws and iconic traits out. She feels plain and her strong personality,confidence,sass,energy,etc all seem to be completely gone. She's just sweet and that's it . For some reason there's a scene where she literally tries to confess to Sonic and is cut off before she can finish,which is very funny considering it had never been treated as a secret before??? it really goes to show how hard they were trying to pull some kind of reboot on her. Fortunately,this characterization was only a two-game-thing (She is just as plain in Forces (2015)) so i'll put it in the same bag as the Free riders one and we'll leave it at that.

After Lost world came Boom (2014) ,and then we got the most recent change of Amy's personality,which we all know has had a mixed reception from the fandom. Originally people thought that this Amy would stay just in the Boom universe ,but this personality has been showing up in the mainline games for a while now,like in Team Sonic Racing (2019) and Frontiers (2021).

This Amy feels older than any of the ones that came before her. She kept the sass,the love for romanticism,the positive attitude,the confidence and the strenght but her bad temper and over enthusiasm are gone,as she is generally more calm,less energetic and not childish at all. Most importantly,this Amy is extremely emotionally intelligent,as the rest of characters seem to look for her help and advice constantly ( to the point that she has been given the "therapist friend" title by the fandom and is even referred as "the nice one" by Eggman himself ). Another interesting thing about this Amy is that she doesn't flirt with Sonic anymore,In fact, she barely expresses her liking for him (She does so a bit more in Japanese chz the characterization varies) and Sonic seems completely comfortable with this version of her around.

A lot of people say that this version of her is out of character and I completely understand where that comes from, but i must disagree because this characterization of Amy is the first one since the adventure era that focuses on her compassion/empathy rather than on her crush on Sonic, which combined with her intelligence,makes her not out of character,just the most emotionally mature Amy to date instead. I actually think that if the og modern Amy had grown up,this is the kind of personality she would’ve developed while becoming an adult (although she isn't supposed to be one). A good argument to defend this point would be that one Egg-memo you can buy through the fishing minigame in Frontiers where Eggman talks about how Amy has "come a long way" and how it took her some time "to find herself" and get out of Sonic's shadow.

Only problem i have with this Amy is that i wish she was more flawed and bubbly,mostly cause she can come off as very plain from time to time and way too mature. She is a bit too perfect for my taste. I'd like her to mess up more,to not always be so smart,to be more impulsive,a little bit more clumsy,fiery and wild,just so she could have some more of the charm of the original,y'know?

Before i talk about her more recent Videogame portrayal (TMoSTH) i want talk about IDW Amy:

in IDW, all of Amy's flaws and positive traits from past games are balanced pretty well: she is flawed and relatable and can mess up a bit sometimes because of her impulsivity,but she's emotionally and strategically inteligent, optimistic and incredibly kind. She is a great fighter and leader,but also a wonderful friend who offers emotional support. She has a strong personality, lots of sass and can be very aggressive and intimidating towards her enemies, but not any less of an empathetic and compassionate person because of that. Her strength and confidence are pillars for her character instead of nonsensical anger,but she still shows self doubt and fear from time to time. She is energic, idealistic and still a romantic,but not obsessive nor possesive. peppy but emotionally intelligent. She still loves Sonic, but her feelings for him feel authentic rather than childish idealization,and given that she now respects his space,she's written to be happy just with fighting by his side and jokingly flirt from time to time. (their bond also seems stronger,but that's a topic for another day.)

I believe this portrayal of her is one of the best we've gotten in the sense that she represents a good mix of most things that has made her positively memorable since the beginning and lacks every problematic aspect of her character that was added post her creation. And because of this good mix of characteristics, IDW Amy is constantly praised by the fandom. But something i hear a lot is people saying how they love IDW Amy and despise "Main Amy" -by which i'll assume they refer to videogame Amy just in general- and that way of summarizing all of Amy's game portrayals feels very odd to me, especially because IDW Amy is a culmination of every single good aspect that has been added to this character combined with most of what she was meant to be at the start. In other words,IDW Amy couldn't exist if it wasn't for all the game Amys before her.

It's true that in IDW we haven't seen her character be as impulsive and outspoken as in the Adventure era or Heroes, and i miss that as much as every other Amy fan. But I do think that ,because so much assertiveness wouldn’t coexist very well with things like careful thought, the reason for that change must be that IDW is writing an more mature version of the character and It’s hard for them to keep such aspects of her personality intact without her being seen as childish by the audience now that they are paired up with big responsabilities (ex: the restoration) Especially since that super impulsive nature of hers probably came naturally at the time because she was supposed to be a 12-year old and wether we like it or not, it was implied by the narrative that it was one of the main reasons she got caught by eggman both in SA1 and SA2. Aka,IDW Amy isn't allowed to make as many mistakes as the og.

After all ,Amy used to be written to be mostly seen as a comedic character and as an "extra addition" to the main team rather than as an important,needed member of it. ( even in Heroes,where she had formed her own team,she was still trying to catch up to Sonic and his team because she had been excluded of it.) If she made a mistake and got caught by eggman because of her stubborness,the writers would just make Sonix fix things. In IDW she doesn't just feel older,but she has also gotten to have important roles in the fight against Eggman and people rely on her with their lives,so it doesn't surprise me that the writers try to make her be more conscious and careful when it comes to her actions now that she has more responsibilities and can't allow herself to make as many mistakes as she did back when she was written to be more immature and impulsive because of that extreme assertiveness.

Now,I personally believe that Amy in TMoSTH is the same as in IDW, just that she feels more like her OG self in TMOSTH because ,for the most part ,Bday Girl is on that train literally to just have fun and do as she pleases. She doesn't have any weight on her shoulders nor expectations,she is free of responsabilities all the way until the climax of the game and the game itself is very comedy-centric for the most part, so the writers pobably felt like they could set that impulsive,assertive side of her loose again, and i loved it!

In this game her character doesn't revolve around Sonic and she messes up a lot (The way she was so ashamed of how she broke her hammer when she tried to escape the closet with brute force that she lied, how she didn't realize Sonic was actually hurt because she was too excited about the game, how she was overconfident and impulsively tried to solve the case and completely failed ,how she and vector started beating a wall violently after realizing the train was alive,etc),but her positive qualities shine throughout the game as well ( How she took the time to organize a party that she'd think everyone would have fun at,How she is so thankful that everyone showed up and doesn't mind that Shad and Sonic didn't bring gifts, how she makes sweets remarks about others and cute jokes in distressing situations,how she has faith in Shadow's goodwill, The way she delivers the final blow at the end and says that despite everything,she loved the party because it was an adventure,etc ). Throughout the game,Sonic and the rest treat her in a way that really goes to show what a good friend and a lovely person she is ,and she expresses great appreciation for everyone's presence in her life.

It's honestly an amazing coincidence that this game takes place on her bday considering that it's the one that made this portrayal of her "game canon". As a fan of her, i celebrate it and hope we get more of it in the near future.

So yeah, i didn't talk about Sonic X Amy,Archie Amy nor all the comics,series and games that came out between the big videogame titles. There is much more about how Amy has been written that could be said, but i think i did a pretty decent summary of the most important changes her character has gone through the years mainline game-wise,at least good enough to defend my point that she wasn't a stalker originally and she definitely isn't one now. As i mentioned before,i agree that she was portrayed as possesive and obsessive for a long period of time and as an actual harasser for a shorter one , and that we should definitely recognize it and be critical of such things being portrayed as “quirky” and “funny” aspects when they are in reality, hurtful. BUT summarizing her whole character by calling her a stalker and an obsessive fangirl is defining her based on the worst examples of her characterization and ignoring her good ones completely.

Feel free to disagree with my character analysis,my opinions and the way i categorize her portrayals,but i strongly believe that Amy rose isn't meant to be a harasser,an obsessive fangirl or personal space invader.

My girl deserves better.

#also don't get me wrong i love battle #is just that Amy is really hard to like in that game #props to her for carrying weights for half of it tho we stan a strong pink rat #if you actually read this whole thing props to you #also thanks anon for giving me an excuse to talk about amy #amy rose #sonic spoilers #character analysis

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mimikittysblog · 9 months

Text

Soon to Be

Pairing: Husband! Jay x Reader

Genre: Angst, a lil bit of smut, fluff at the end

Synopsis: You and Jay are in the process of getting a divorce, however on this fateful night you found yourself under him once again. Is your soon to be divorce still gonna happen? Or will this moment change things for the better or the worse?

Warnings: Sex, mentions of arguments and divorce, i think thats it? If I miss anything let me know!

Word count: 1,9k words

A/N: OKAY I actually have so many other works I have yet to finish but I’m just gonna squeeze in this one. I got inspired to make this morning cause of a TikTok lol. I hope y’all like it! There’s not much dialogue in the beginning so I’m sorry if it’s boring but I do hope you guys will still like it! Okay then, enjoy!

.✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧.

"J-jay.."

"Fuck."

"Aaah! Jay!" You moaned out as your soon to be ex husband thrusted harder.

Yup.

Soon to be ex husband.

You and Jay have been married for almost ten years, yet unfortunately times got rough. Big arguments over little things started becoming common, he became busy with work and almost never had any time for you and the kids etc. Pretty cliche but it happened.

It all accumulated into the biggest fight you two ever had and it ended with the two of you agreeing to get a divorce.

Not long after the process began and he even moved out already. It's been a pretty long process and you're not entirely sure why.. it even started to make you wonder if this was even worth it. Cause truth be told. You still loved your husband with all your heart. Then knowing that soon your signatures will be on divorce papers and your kids are always wondering what's gonna happen now is eating away at your heart.

What you didn't know is that it was eating away at his too.

Yet how did you end up here? yknow. under him again.

Well it was your son's birthday actually. So of course you all got together to celebrate it. However as Jay was about to leave to go back to his new place it started to rain heavily. Almost a hurricane really.

Or maybe you guys were just trying to find an excuse to have him stay the night.

So you suggested that to him. Furthermore not wanting to be cruel to the father of your kids and the love of your life you let him sleep in the same bed with you.

"Huh.. you haven't really changed anything did you?" He commented with a small longing smile when he walked into his.. old room.

Fuck did that hurt to think about.

To think about how he doesn't come home here anymore.

How this technically isn't his home anymore.

How now whenever he walks through the door he calls home he's no longer greeted by his kids and the love of his life.

"..I thought it was perfect the way it was.. so I didn't see the need to change it." You replied while looking down, leaning against the door.

Jay gulped before looking back at you and making his way towards you.

"..I thought it was perfect too.." He whispered when he was right in front of you.

..Was this still about the room?

You took a big gulp before looking up at your soon to be ex husband.

He looked at you like how he used to. Like you were the only thing in this universe.. like he loves you.

He does.

Yet you were too stubborn to acknowledge it. Trying so hard to convince yourself that he no longer had you in his heart. The divorce is about to happen.

But why is he looking at me like that? Like he still wants me? Like he still loves me?

He does.

and why aren't I looking away?

Because I still love him too.

Not being able to contain it anymore you both grabbed onto each other and shared a passionate lustful kiss.

And thats how you ended up here.

"Ugh. I-I've missed you!" Jay groaned as he was starting to near his climax, also trying to keep it down, not wanting to wake the kids.

"J-jay..! We.. ah! we really.. s-shouldn't be doing this..!" You croaked.

"But.. why does it feel so good??" He whispered, nuzzling his head into your neck.

"M-maybe its just cause you h-haven't found someone else to get your dick wet."

He stopped.

That's when you realized that you let that slip.

You didn't mean to say that..

He then pulled away to look at you, eyes wide but eyebrows furrowed. Truly appalled at what you just said to him.

"I.. Do... do you really think that..? Y/n. I.. would never. do that to you. Y/n. I'm still your legally wedded husband. and.. even if I wasn't already I would never find someone else to- y/n no one is like y- I just.." Jay couldn't even speak. Not believing that you would ever think this.

"...if.. if you really think all that I'm doing is just trying to use you for my personal sexual needs then we can stop." He explained sternly looking into your eyes.

..No.. You didn't think that.

He was making love to you. You knew. You felt it. You don't do this with someone you don't love.

But.. but you were soon to be divorced. It was soon to be over. He can't still be in love with you?

Can he..?

So in confusion and stubbornness you slowly put your hands on his chest pushing him away softly.

"We.. we should stop."

Jay said nothing as he looked down before slowly pulled out of you. He continued to keep the silence as he put your nightgown back on you and dressed himself. He then got in bed next to you and turned away.

"Goodnight Y/n.."

"...Goodnight Jay.. I.." You stopped yourself as tears slid down your face.

Not knowing Jay had stopped himself too.

.✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧.

The next morning Jay woke up before you did. He smiled seeing you next to him and wanted so bad to just hold you in his arms and never let go.

But he had to leave soon, and he doesn't know if you wanted that too. So he got up and made his way to the kitchen and seeing he had some time he decided to make breakfast for his family like he used to. Before work, pride and other stupid shit that doesn't really matter got in the way.

Once he was finished he still had some time so he decided to prepare his kids uniform like how he did back then. Seeing how his kids sleeping peacefully as he prepared their uniforms just break his heart even more.

God he missed this so much.

Even when he still lived here he hadn't done this in so long. Plus he realized their uniforms have gone a size up, his little ones were starting to grow and he's been missing it. He hates this. Once their uniforms were prepared, he gave his kids each a kiss on their heads and a little note to motivate them through out the day.

He didn't have anymore time. He had to leave. But he didn't care anymore. He made his way back to your room and sees you still sleeping so peacefully. However as he got closer he saw the tear stains on the pillow and the tear tracks down your beautiful cheeks.

He fucked up. Big time.

So with that he kissed his wife forehead lovingly, also left her a personal little note as he left to make things right.

.✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧.

It was now the afternoon and its almost time to pick up the kids from school.

You were really grateful Jay did what he did before he left. It really warmed your heart even though it brought tears to your eyes. Your kids seem to really appreciate it too, showing you the cute note their father left them.

You were just about to open the door and leave to pick them up but jumped back when you saw Jay at the door with a bouquet of your favorite flowers in one hand and some documents in the other.

"Jay..? w-what are you doing here?"

"...To make things right."

"Jay? what?"

"I'm sorry.. for everything. Absolutely fucking everything. From the moment I started ignoring my duties as your husband and the father to our precious kids until now. Y/n.. I want to start over. Can we start over please? I miss you so much and I.. I still love you."

"You..? b-but jay were soon to be d-"

"I know. I know. But please stop with that.. just for a moment while I lay out my heart for you."

You took a deep breath then you nodded letting him continue.

"After what happened last night.. I couldn't believe how far I let this happened. I.. let you believed that I didn't love you anymore. That you were nothing more than someone I could use. And that I could ever find someone else other than you for anything. Y/n.. I fucked up. Everything. and honestly I don't even think I deserve to ask for a redo.. cause after last night I'm not sure I deserve you.. and after what I did to our family I don't know if you deserve someone as shitty as me..." Jay couldn't keep it any longer as his tears started to flow, causing yours to flow too.

"But I know.. that no one on this earth can love you as much as me. Because I love you.. I love you so so much. My love for you has always been real.. every time I told you that I love you has been nothing but the truth. And I know I haven't been proving that to you.. for fuck sake we were in the process of getting a divorce.. and I let this all happen to the point that this finally showed up in my email.." he continued through choked sobs

He then showed you the documents he was holding, which were the divorce papers. The papers that only needed your signatures to finalize everything.

"And I will forever be sorry for that. I.. I don't even remember who suggested it.. I don't know why I even agreed to it because I'm so madly fucking in love with you and I cannot just let us go. I need you.. I love you.. and I'm hoping you still love me too.. Even though I don't deserve you anymore.. or maybe I never did.. I'm still hoping you can let me fix everything and that we can have a do over..." He said looking at you with hopeful eyes as he offered the bouquet to you..

It looked exactly the same as the one he gave you when he confessed..

and the one when he gave you when you went on your first date.

and when he proposed.

He always remembered how much you loved this bouquet.

"But.. but if you truly... want this divorce.. then we can go inside to sign these.. I won't force you to accept me again... I just needed you to know that you will always.. always. have my heart. No matter what. No matter when. Until the day I die and even after. Even after time itself ends. My heart will forever be yours."

Hearing him tell you that just made you break out into sobs as well as you envelope him in a big hug.

"..Y-you remember your vow..." You sobbed into his shoulder.

Flashing back to the moment he told you this on your wedding day as a part of his vows.

"How could I ever forget..?"

You pulled away and held his face, staring into his eyes.

"Are you sure you want to try again..?"

"As sure as the day I asked you to be mine. as the day I asked you to marry me. and especially as sure as the day I said I do."

With that you took the papers and flung it across the room as you kissed your no longer soon to be ex husband.

"I love you so much Hubby." you mumbled against his lips.

"I love you too wifey. Now lets go pick up the kids and get some dinner."

.✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧.

#enhypen #jay park #park jongseong #enhypen jay #enhypen imagine #jay imagine #enhypen smut #jay smut #enhypen fluff #jay fluff #enhypen angst #jay angst #mimikittysblog

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jennay · 5 months

Text

Under The Stars

Request: hi! could i possibly request a best friends to lovers one shot with noah - sort of like, both of them were too scared to say how they felt? i was thinking the reader has been friends with noah and ruffilo since they were teenagers and she now works with the band as a guitar tech or something :') thank you!

Master List

An: I changed the setting where the confessions happen. I hope you love it. It's mushy!

If you want to be tagged in future Noah things let me know 🖤

If you have any requests feel free to send them!

You relaxed in the back of your 'new' truck, a battered old pickup your dad had given you as a hand-me-down. The metal was scratched and dented, and the paint was peeling off in places, but you loved it anyway. Noah and Nick, your two best friends, lay beside you on the soft blankets you had spread over the truck bed.

You felt their warmth and comfort as you gazed at the sky, watching the stars sparkle and fade. The night air was cool and crisp, and you heard the crickets chirping in the distance. You adored nights like this when their company made your teenage years more bearable.

"Look!" Noah exclaimed, pointing to the sky. "Shooting star."

"You have to make a wish!" You say, following the trail of the star with your eyes.

Nick leaned his head on your shoulder, snuggling closer to you. "Yeah, Noah, you saw it first! make the wish!”

You nodded in agreement, "He's right."

Noah smiled brightly and tilted his head to look at the two of you. His eyes were shining with mischief and curiosity. "I wish-" He started to say, but you quickly put your hand over his mouth, stopping him from speaking. "Don't say it out loud or it won't come true!" You warned him, laughing. You felt him mumble something under your hand and wondered what he wished for but didn't ask because you wanted all of Noah's dreams to come true.

The present:

You spring into action the moment you see Jolly turn around and look at the cord of his guitar. Something was wrong.

You had feared the day that this would happen but hoped it would never come. You wished it wasn't today.

Noah was already losing his patience with the crowd that kept brawling through the night, and the amount of technical difficulties that plagued the show made you feel like a lousy worker.

You sprint over to Jolly while Noah once again pauses the concert to lecture the crowd about their behavior. You're almost grateful for the disruption of the crowd. It buys you a few more minutes to figure out a solution to the problem.

You kneel down at the amp, searching for the problem, and you grab the cord, following it back to the guitar that Jolly is holding. His eyes widened, and he searched your face for answers.

You stick your pointer finger up as if telling him one minute, giving him hope that you've got this under control. You stand up, unplug the wire from his guitar, and race over to the chest. Lucky for you, only the cord needed to be replaced. You knew there was probably a bigger issue with Jolly's connection to his guitar, but right now, you couldn't fix that problem in the middle of the show.

You give Jolly a thumbs-up, and he gives a nod, mouthing thank you as you jog off the stage.

You hoped that would hold up until the show was over. You didn't believe in god but were now praying for a better outcome. You didn't want to disappoint the guys; they already had many issues tonight.

You sit on the side of the stage close to Jolly, just in case anything else happens. You were relieved when the band was no longer stopping for technical errors.

After the show, you meet up with guys backstage, giving them high-fives and admiration for their work.

You were so proud of them for all their badassery.

You walk them back to the bus, listening to them talk about the show. You hear Noah talking about the crowd, and he wonders out loud if they're doing something causing the actions. He's frustrated because this isn't the first time but hopes it will be the last.

You all rush into the bus, and Noah flops down on the couch. You sit beside him while the other three prepare to hit the town for the night.

When Ruffilo reappears in front of you, he has a sneaky smile on his face, "You're coming out with us right?" He asks you.

You shake your head and shut your eyes, "I'm really tired and going to pass out on this couch. This is my spot." You joke. "Now go, have fun. Drink for me." You say, waving them off.

As the others leave, you sit up straight, groaning, when you feel Noah's eyes on you. You know he's looking at you with that mischievous glint in his eyes, which always makes your heart skip a beat.

You pretend to be annoyed and turn to face him. "What?" You ask, trying to sound casual.

Noah shrugs. "I have an idea." He stands up, walks to his bunk, and grabs one of the small blankets off his bed. He then hurried over to the small fridge tucked under the cabinet next to you.

"Do you have a sweater?" You shake your head, "What are you up to?"

"Go get one of Nick's sweaters, I saw one on his bunk. It's chilly outside." He grins warmly at you.

You raise an eyebrow, "Are you trying to get me drunk and steal Nick's clothes?"

He chuckles, "Maybe. Is that a problem?"

You roll your eyes, but you can't help but smile. You get up, doing as he says, and snatch the black zip-up hoodie he was referring to.

You walk back to Noah, who gives you the bottle of wine and slings the blanket over his shoulder.

He rummages through the small kitchenette, finding two coffee cups. "Guess this will do." He says with a shrug. "Let's go!"

You playfully roll your eyes, "Can you fill me in on what's happening?" You say, following him out the door.

You feel a cold breeze hit your face, and you shiver, wishing you had a thicker jacket. The sky is dark with glittering stars, and you can't help but stare up at the sky. You've always loved the night sky, the way it makes you feel small and infinite at the same time.

"We're going to go sip some wine and look at the stars, just like the old days. We haven't done that in ages." He says, flashing you a smile.

You feel your heart race again, remembering all the times you spent together under the stars, talking, laughing, dreaming.

He wraps his arm around you and leads you to an area that isn't too far from the bus but feels natural due to the trees surrounding the area. You smell the fresh pine and earthy soil and feel a sense of peace.

Noah lays the blanket down and smooths out any wrinkles. You take off your shoes and step on them, sitting down, "Hurry up. I'm cold and I could really use your body heat right now." You tease.

You don't mind the cold but love the excuse to cuddle with him.

"Is that all I'm good for?" He says, sitting next to you. He lifts his arm and lets you snuggle into his side.

You feel his warmth and his heartbeat, and you sigh contentedly. You breathe in his scent, a mix of sweat, cologne, and something uniquely him. You feel his lips press against your hair, and you smile.

"Hand me the wine."

You reach beside you and grab the bottle, handing it to Noah. You hear the top pop off, and he begins pouring the wine into the coffee cups. You take a sip, and your face scrunches at the bitter taste, pulling away from Noah. You give him a look of disgust, and Noah laughs at your reaction.

"Who drinks this shit?" You take another drink, hoping your taste buds will become more accustomed to the taste.

You don't care about the wine; you just want to spend quality time with him, away from the tour's chaos and stress.

You lean back on your hands, gazing at Noah with admiration. He's too busy pouring more wine; you watch the red liquid flow like blood.

At this moment, you're convinced something else is going on with him. He seemed nervous and fidgety, his eyes darting like a trapped animal.

You break the short silence by leaning forward and reaching out to touch his hair. Your fingers linger at his neck as you say, "I like your hair when it gets longer." You admit while stroking the wild strands.

Noah smiles down at you, his brown irises soft and kind, "Why do you think I haven't cut it again?" He asks with a nervous laugh.

You feel your cheeks heat up, and you look away. "You're growing it out for me?" You say, half-joking, half-hoping.

"Yes, I am." He says, his voice serious. "Because I want you to find me attractive." The words slip out of his mouth, and he freezes. His eyes widen, shocked by his own words.

Noah had only ever told Nick about his secret, and he always told him it was a crush that would fade over time. He practically begged Noah not to tell you. Nick feared it would ruin your friendships and didn't want to be the middleman if something happened.

"You what?" You say, stunned.

He exhales, biting his lip. "You know what I wished for all those years ago when we were kids in the back of your truck with Nick?" He looks at you, his expression hopeful and nervous. He gently grabs your hand in his.

You feel nervous at his touch. Noah didn't act this way, not around you. "You're not supposed to tell me your wishes." You smile weakly.

"I have to." He says desperately. "I've tried not saying anything and it still didn't come true." He lifts your chin, making you look into his eyes. He wants you to hear him loud and clear. " I wished for you to fall in love with me, to look at me the way you look at the stars."

You feel excitement in your chest, and want him to know you've wished for the same thing. You wrap your arms around his neck, and whisper in his ear. “You don’t have to wish anymore. I love you too.”

He smiles widely, and pulls you closer to him, his hands cup your face as he leans in, pressing his lips to yours. You feel his warm breath on your skin, and his tongue gently teasing your mouth. You hear his soft moan, and his heartbeat pounding in sync with yours.

You pull back, gasping for air, and look into his eyes. You see the same spark that ignited your kiss, the same desire that matched yours.

You smile and whisper, “I'll gladly make your wish come true.”

Tags: Tags: @thisbicc @yumikitten @lma1986 @chemicallady @niicoleleigh

#noah sebastian x y/n #noah sebastian oneshot #noah sebastian fluff #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian x reader #noah fic #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens fic

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mypoisonedvine · 11 months

Note

In dark corners is fucking AMAZING… it’s insane. It’s too good. Died a little on the inside when I saw it’s the only Sirius fic you’ve written. So talented.

I know this technically wasn't a request and you may not even know I was about to do my sleepover but I decided I really ought to write another sirius fic! so, here's a drabble just for you with young!sirius just to mix it up <3

warnings: smut (18+ only please), oral f receiving, a bit of dubcon but it's just hesitance, shy!reader, teasing, sirius being cocky as fuck, discussions of arranged marriage, bi!reader, very brief implied homophobia (not by sirius of course) and mention of blood status discrimination

"Well, they didn't lie," he decided with crossed arms and a tilted head, "you are pretty."

You nervously wrung your hands, glancing down briefly at your leather loafers as they shifted slightly on the study's hardwood floor— freshly waxed, your shoes and the floor. Everything had been prepared so carefully for this moment, the moment that you were meeting the man that might (hopefully) become your husband.

Apparently, they'd told him you were pretty, but you figured that was only part of their long matchmaking speech: a good, pureblooded girl from a respected family, distinguished and ladylike, demure, and at the perfect age to bear children!

You got a speech, too, but you knew half of it was a lie. You'd heard stories about Sirius long before you were taken here to be presented to him: stories of a rebel, a wild young man up to all kinds of things he shouldn't be. It made you even more intimidated to be standing in front of him, watching the way he watched you.

"Th-thank you, sir," you mumbled quietly, finally reacting to his compliment, and he smirked just a bit.

"I hear you've got excellent marks at Hogwarts," he continued, "straight Os, no?"

You got excited to brag about that, and perked up: "Yes, sir," you agreed.

He frowned. "Seems like a waste," he said. You sighed, unsure how you could've disappointed him with that but too afraid to ask. "Don't you get up to any fun?"

You blinked quickly, unsure how to answer. "I read for fun, sir— mostly wizarding history but some stories, too—"

"Why do you keep calling me 'sir'? Do you think I'm your teacher or something?"; when you looked at him again, you realised he was standing closer than you thought. It made you aware of how much taller he was than you, how inquisitive his eyes were, how soft his lips looked—

"I'm sorry— it's just how I was raised, sir— er, Mister Black— I call any man 'sir'..."

"Well, I'm not much of a man, am I?" he noticed, smiling. "Only twenty-one. And you, barely finished with your final year of school— you're hardly a woman."

You swallowed thickly, feeling you'd disappointed him again.

"Your parents assured me, in fact, that no one had... made a woman of you, so to speak," he added. "I knew better than to believe that— parents never know anything. But looking at you now, how nervous you are... I almost could believe it."

Your face got warm, not sure exactly what he meant but certainly getting an idea of the spirit of it.

He stepped closer again, so close you could smell his cologne, and your heartbeat picked up. "So, when I ask what kind of fun you've gotten up to," he continued, voice lowered, "I don't mean reading dusty old tomes."

You dared to look up at him, your lips parting as you tried to think what you should say.

"Look at you," he chuckled mockingly, running his fingers over your jawline, "you've probably never done a naughty thing in your life."

Feeling defensive, you knitted your eyebrows and returned, "Have to!"

You hated how childish you sounded, but he seemed to like it— or at least be amused by it. "Prove it, then," he challenged.

"I— I kissed two different boys this year," you said proudly, and he put on an impressed expression.

"Two boys? In one year? Merlin's beard, what a slut!" he said sarcastically, and even if he was joking you tensed up at that word.

"I... I kissed a girl, too," you added more softly, and he raised his brows. "Eileen Walsh... a girl in my year, a Ravenclaw... it was her idea, but we kissed for a few minutes in a potions closet—"

"Hm, alright," he nodded, finally seeming impressed, "the potions closet is more naughty than the girl-kissing, you know. Where someone could've caught you."

Your face kept getting warmer as your mind split its attention between memories of Eileen— red hair tickling your shoulder, freckled fingers petting over your breasts through your sweater vest, shelves pressing into your back as she pressed into you— and Sirius standing before you now with his tongue darting out to lick his lips.

"If you only like girls, maybe we can make a deal then," he offered. "I'll agree to the marriage and if you want, you can go on kissing girls without any of the worry about your parents, since you've got a nice husband to keep them distracted—"

"N-no, I like boys too," you insisted, "I even... I let one touch me, you know... there."

His smile grew into a wide, toothy grin. "There, huh?"

You nearly jumped when his fingers brushed over your dress, starting at your side and trailing lower slowly— teasingly.

"Will you let me touch you there?" he whispered, lips right against your ear.

"I-if we're to be married," you mitigated, and he gave you a sort of offended look.

"So you'll let students cop a feel, but I can only touch you if we're engaged?" he noticed.

"Yes," you decided, "I should've— I should have never let them— but I was just so—"

"So... desperate," he finished for you as his fingers moved down your your thigh, teasing you with the possibility that he might really reach under your dress. "I can understand that. But if you're supposed to be my wife, I need to really see you, don't I?"

Your thighs pressed together. "See me?"

"Under your dress," he explained; you shivered a little.

"I— our parents are downstairs," you recalled, "in the parlour— if we tried to— they might—"

"Shh, they won't come up," he promised, his hand suddenly dipping under your dress' hem and grabbing onto your thigh; you gasped, your hands reaching up to hold his shoulders as he pet your skin just above the top of your stockings. "They want me to have time alone with you, to decide if I'll finally give in to one of their arrangements. As long as you can keep quiet, they won't know a thing, darling."

Darling. The way that made you bite your lip was proof of how badly you wanted to be his wife already, just to have him call you that again.

His hands suddenly moved up to the back of your dress, unbuttoning it. You definitely shouldn't have let him, but you were charmed in a way much stronger than a literal charm could do— you were already so eager to please him, maybe that was just the raised as much as your compulsion to call him 'sir'.

It wasn't much longer until your dress was on the floor around your loafers, and you were left in your bra and panties, plus the stockings of course.

"Saving yourself for marriage with a body like this," he clicked his tongue disapprovingly. "Now that's a shame."

"I'm sure my husband will appreciate that I waited for him," you decided, though your voice sounded shaky and breathless in a way you hadn't expected.

You gasped as he pushed you up against the credenza behind you, shoving some things off and out of the way so he could sit you on it and spread your legs. "Maybe I do," he admitted.

"S-so, you want to agree to the arrangement, then?" you realised, looking down at him with wide eyes.

He smiled at you, starting to hook a finger into your panties to pull them to the side. "If you please me," he bargained.

And a moment later, he dove in with a sloppy, hungry kiss to your cunt; whining right away, you found yourself arching your back up off the wall and tangling your fingers into his hair. "S-sirius!" you sighed. "I— oh, we shouldn't be— can't it wait until—?"

"Couldn't fucking wait," he responded before you'd finished (not that there was any hope of you getting that sentence out), mumbling against your sensitive skin. "Had to taste you, darling."

Every time he licked up your cunt, your whole body shook— you really had no excuse for being so sensitive, maybe it was all your nerves since you'd gotten to the Black residence... maybe it was that you'd been waiting far too long for someone to really pleasure you like this.

He hummed happily against you, moaned even, as he took tight grip of your thighs and suckled harder at your swelling clit.

"Oh, fuck—" you whimpered, feeling him smile when you said a bad word.

Apparently hoping to hear it again, he slipped two fingers inside you like it was nothing at all— because it was, with how wet you were.

"Fuck!" you yelped, fulfilling his wish, and he shut his eyes as he used his fingers and mouth in perfect harmony to absolute drown you in pleasure; it was only this one small portion of your body he was touching, but you felt it all over you— gooseflesh, waves of shivers and shocks, your toes curling inside your fucking stupid loafers.

"Not too loud, darling," he reminded you with a smirk, breaking away from your clit but keeping his fingers twisting inside you.

"Oh, shut up," you hissed, grabbing him by the hair and guiding him back to his work. He could've punished you for your insolence if he wanted, taken his fingers away and only given teasing licks to your bud until you apologised, but instead he just smiled proudly and got back to it— if anything he was more aggressive than before, guiding you right to the edge as he speared his fingers harder and faster into you. "I'm— fuck, m'close, Sirius, please don't stop— g'na come, please—"

He moaned against you— what a lovely sound that was— and kept going even more fiercely until it all cracked and you were melting onto that credenza: drips of arousal ran down his hand and chin, down your thighs to stain your stocks, and he lapped at them with eager abandon.

"F-fuck, wait," you whimpered when it all became too much at once, pushing him away by that thoroughly-mussed mop of chestnut hair. He grinned up at you with a slick, shining smile, and you felt a bit embarrassed as you sobered up enough to realise how whorish you'd really been.

"Yes, I think this will make for a fun engagement," he deciding, still panting, still on his knees before you. "But, let's get you dressed before we tell the parents."

#30k sleepover #sirius black x reader #sirius black smut #request #marauders sirius x reader

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skzcollision · 10 months

Text

churchboy!felix x afab!reader (4/7)

| 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 |

genre: fluff, smut, teen angst

synopsis: certain expectations come with being a pastor’s daughter. in everyone’s eyes you are a properly behaved girl, albeit rather timid. according to your parents, you aren’t as devoted to the church as you should be. they entrust you to an old family friend’s son, deeming him to be a good influence. these circumstances bring you two closer together and stir up all kinds of emotions.

MINORS DNI

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

It turns out that you and Felix hadn't been the only ones in that restroom you locked yourselves in.

A classmate had witnessed the entire thing and the little snake didn't hesitate to tell everyone that the school's beloved golden boy has been banging the daughter of a pastor—you. The most salacious piece of gossip since junior year when someone got pregnant and had to drop out.

Your goody two shoes image had crumbled in less than an hour.

If you were to be honest, there was something freeing about it. Putting up a front all these years had begun to chip away at you. No one got anywhere by rebelling against their parents. They would have only sent you away to some religious boot camp for troubled teens or whatever they thought effective—so you pretended to put up with their shit for eighteen years.

After you leave for university, that’s when your life begins. They have been pushing for you to attend Bible college but what they don’t know is that you have officially chosen to study at a secular school. Money is not a problem; you managed to receive a scholarship and saved up enough from past part-time jobs to cover living expenses. You’ll live away from your parents, and ultimately, have a life of your own.

Hopefully with Felix by your side.

Your parents aren’t the biggest fan of him at the moment. You have told your mother that while you are seeing each other, you have never slept together—which is technically not a lie. But the fact that he never asked your father for permission to court you, left a bad taste in their mouths. They never foresaw that these innocent bible readings would progress your relationship in this way.

“I just don’t know what we were thinking.” Your mother huffs. She takes her anger out on a head of cabbage this time, knife coming down forcefully and rapidly against the wooden board. It impresses you that she has never had one accident. “Leaving you unchaperoned all day with a boy.”

You’re rinsing produce at the sink, fighting the urge to roll your eyes or make a face because she somehow always catches you. “I’m eighteen, mom.”

Her knife comes to a halt. “You are still a child.”

You don’t say any more on the subject. It’s futile arguing with her. No matter what you say, she is always going to see you as a naive little girl with no knowledge of the world.

Your parents think this entire situation is still better than you running off with a non-Christian, so they have invited Felix and his parents over for dinner at your house.

It’s a little scary, how your mother can switch her demeanour in a drop of a hat. One moment she’s yelling at you for peeling the fruits wrong and the next she’s answering the door with the pearliest smile.

Felix brings his famous brownies and suddenly it seems like all is forgiven. His dad joins your father in the living room while he and his mom help out in the kitchen. You realize how similar both of your mothers are, only you feel that his is genuinely kind while yours poses.

It goes just like any other dinner has. The adults talk, and the children stay quiet, only speaking when spoken to and when the occasional question pops up. Your mother loves answering for you so you just about have your brain shut off the entire time.

They leave after dessert, well, your mothers chitchat by the door for another hour or so, and then they leave.

Besides playing footsie underneath the table, you and Felix didn’t really get the chance to interact much with each other all night, so he calls as soon as you slide into bed.

“When can I see you?” You ask, lying on your back.

“You’re not going to church?”

“I am. I mean when can I see you alone,” you emphasize.

“After the service, I guess. They’re asking me to set up a new computer so I have to hang back, but we can go somewhere once I’m done with that.”

“Okay.”

You don’t talk for very long, nor do you hang up. Your phone stays next to your head and you let his breathing lull you to sleep.

“Has everyone gone home?”

You sit on the futon behind Felix as he works on the desktop. The small back room that they have designated as the church office always has an unpleasant dank smell and feel. Something like rotting wood. You really don’t want to stay here for any longer.

“Yeah I think so,” his response is delayed, focused solely on whatever he is doing.

You smile, pulling up a foldable chair next to his and hugging him round the stomach. Your face buries into his neck.

His hand comes up to stroke your hair briefly before going back on the mouse. “Let’s do this later okay? Just wanna finish as quickly as possible.”

Your lips purse into an exaggerated pout. It takes a while for him to look but once he does, he only chuckles and lays a chaste kiss on you before quickly getting back to it.

You finally decide to just leave him alone and diddle around with the pipe organ to pass the time.

Hymns are all you know so that’s what you play. Although your parents made you play for church when you were little and you typically hate everything they force you to do, playing the pipe organ is not one of them. You have always enjoyed how grand the notes sound—filling up the entire room, buzzing through you. You like that you are responsible for making it happen.

Halfway through a piece, your fingers move to play a song that Felix sang for you over the phone a few nights ago, when he thought you were asleep. Relying completely on your memory, you miss a few keys so you go back to rectify them until you can play it cohesively.

“You were awake.”

You jump, glancing over your shoulder in surprise to see Felix standing there, fingers lingering on a note.

“I’m glad I was.” You grin up at him, eyes raking over his freckles, cheeks tinged with pink. “How come I’ve never heard you sing before?”

“I’m a little shy when it comes to my voice.” He plops down next to you, head hanging low.

“Why?” You ask, baffled. “I love your voice.”

Felix shifts closer to you. “Yeah?”

You nod, hands flowing across the keys to play a simple melody. “One of the many things I love about you.“

He jabs at your sides and you yelp, glaring at him for messing up your rhythm. “What else do you love about me?” He smiles playfully, wrapping his arms around you.

You match his smile and your fingers come up to brush against his lips. “This smile for one…” You peck him on the corner of his mouth. “These… beautiful freckles.” You murmur, peppering kisses across his cheeks. “Those sounds you make when I…” Your mouth moves down to nibble at his jaw, then the soft skin around his Adam’s apple, drawing out low moans from him.

That feeling builds up within you again—that burning innate need to be closer to him.

Searching for approval, you pull away for a moment to look up into those soft, doe eyes, swirling with admiration.

His gaze darkens, and he nods permissively. A grunt leaves him as he greedily attaches his lips to yours, hand cradling the back of your head.

WARNING: GRAPHIC CONTENT

Your fingers fly into his hair, pushing, pulling. It doesn’t take long for you to end up on his lap again. Your head lolls back as his mouth latches onto your neck, hands desperately pawing everywhere he can reach. Sounds of pleasure echo within the walls of the chapel as your hips work in tandem, heat generating where you two connect.

He’s hard again. You never actually got the chance to touch him last time.

“Can…” You whimper, eyes squeezing shut when he grinds up into you again. “Can you let me take care of you?”

Breathing erratically against your neck, Felix snaps his gaze up, showing his pretty, flushed face to you. His tongue darts out to wet his lips and he nods.

The bench creaks as you untangle your legs from his waist, moving to sit beside him. You swallow apprehensively as you undo the button of his trousers, eyes glued to his bulge.

You begin palming him over his boxers, fingers grasping around and feeling the shape of his shaft. His head tips back, face twisting up adorably.

He looks to you in confusion when you suddenly withdraw your hand. You grin sweetly. “Show me how you do it.”

You laugh when he only stares at you, looking more puzzled than before. “You do, don’t you?”

Tearing his gaze away, he mumbles almost inaudibly, “s- sometimes… when I’m in the shower.”

You have learned quite a bit about how to pleasure a man from the books you used to secretly read at the public library, but the thought of Felix touching himself in front of you is more exciting.

“Well?” You urge him on, a teasing glint in your eyes.

“That’s not something you should see,” he scoffs bashfully, the tips of his ears now the same shade as the flowers on your dress.

Laughter bubbles up from your chest. You are amazed that he still has it in him to act like a gentleman around you. The same guy who had his fingers inside of you earlier this week. The same guy who couldn’t stop groping you in the kitchen behind the backs of your mothers under the guise of reaching into a cabinet. He is way beyond the point of modesty.

”What?” He glances at you with his eyes narrowed in slits, mildly annoyed.

You shake your head and press your lips together, a poor attempt to conceal your hilarity. “Nothing, I just kind of thought we were past that.”

Determination settles on his features. “Fine.”

He shoves his hand inside his boxers, pausing in a moment of irresolution. Then he’s taking himself out for you to see. You stare in awe at the glistening head. Of course it’s pretty; you believe every part of Felix is.

Deep groans leave him as he fucks into his fist, fingers deliberately tugging up and down his length. This whole time he does not look at you, rather keeps his eyes shut. You notice how his thumb often comes up to caress the tip.

You’ve read about that part being the most sensitive. He’s had to have touched himself several times now.

Gravitating towards him, you push back the strands of hair on his forehead and his eyes flutter open slightly. “Do you think about me?”

He nods, gulping. “I always think about you.”

You lean over so that your breath is fanning over his neck. “You finish to the thought of me?”

“Y- Yes…”

Your lips curve into a saccharine smile, eyes hardened with lust. “Good.”

You cover his hand, the one on his cock, with yours and he stares at you in alarm. He unfurls his fingers, letting you take over and allowing you to finally touch him. He’s soft, so soft, but rigid at the same time.

His pretty mouth drops open and his eyes are closed again as you mimic his own movements. Snapping your wrist with each motion, remembering to pay special attention to the leaking tip.

Felix has surrendered himself completely, his shame from earlier long gone. His unrestrained groans fill up the large, empty space, just like the pipe organ had, knuckles turning white as he grips onto the edges of the bench.

You feel his cock suddenly get stiffer, like the quills on a porcupine, and you slow your hands before stopping completely, realizing what that meant.

He whines at the loss of contact, practically sobbing out your name.

“Let’s try something else,” you get up from your seat, his eyes following you in a daze.

Leaning yourself over the keys, you place one hand on the panelling while the other hikes up your sundress. Your eyes meet his over your shoulder.

“What…” He stands up, directly behind you. “Um, y- you want me to put it in? I don’t have anything to... and that’s– we shouldn’t–” He gulps nervously, eyes flitting around.

A soft smile graces your features and you shake your head. “Not inside, just…” You gesture to your thighs, unsure of how to explain things exactly.

“Oh,” realization dawns on him. He is more intuitive than you thought.

Felix positions himself up against you, holding your waist with one hand and himself up with the other. “Are you sure?”

You nod, driving your ass back into him with need. “Please.”

He slips in between your plushy thighs, his length pressing right up against your covered cunt. You moan in bliss, clamping your thighs around him as tightly as possible.

“Uh, i- is… Mmph…” He rasps out against the nape of your neck, grabbing onto your hips to better stabilize himself. “Is it okay if I s- start moving?”

Your hand comes up to stifle your giggles, imagining how well he would react once he’s actually inside of you. “Mhm,” you hum in a velvety voice, jutting your ass out further.

Low growls escape him as he starts pounding into your thighs, his sloppy, shallow thrusts drawing out your own sobs of pleasure. Eventually he gets a better grip and his rhythm becomes more controlled.

“Ahh!” He changes his angle and you stumble forward, causing your hands to land on the keys. The tune almost mimics the lewd noises coming out of your mouths.

He holds onto you tighter, his thick shaft relentlessly sliding through your wet cunt and in turn making you a babbling, incoherent mess. “F- Felix… y- your… it feels… s- s’good…”

Grunting with exertion, he pulls you to his chest.“Yeah?” He licks along your jaw, one hand splayed across your stomach, the other on your breast. He’s gone completely feral, lost in the way you feel around him.

You gaze down in stupefaction as the head of his cock appears from your thighs. You lift a hand to play with it, teasingly rubbing your palm against the flushed tip every time it pops back out.

“O- Oh… oh my go–“ He makes a harsh, grating sound from behind you, hips slamming into your ass.

Your panties have started shifting to the side, allowing his cock to finally rub against your bare pussy. It’s a delicious friction when his tip collides with your clit, and you feel yourselves tumbling closer to the edge.

“C- Close… s’close!” You cry out, hips moving back to meet his forceful thrusts.

His cock is dangerously close to your entrance but neither of you think about it as you fall apart together, white-hot pleasure ripping through your bodies. His release shoots into your hand, some of it smearing in between your thighs.

You clutch onto each other for a moment, catching your breaths, regaining composure.

Then he’s turning you around and you share a gentle kiss.

He feels you shaking against him so he takes your face in his hands. “Are you okay? I’m sorry– was it too much?”

“No, no it wasn’t… I’m okay,” you smile reassuringly. Seeing him so concerned about you makes your stomach do flips. He presses kisses to your shoulder, rubbing soothing circles on your back. “It’s hot. Wanna go get some gelato?”

He lifts his head and looks at you like you’re crazy, then laughs. “Let’s clean you up first.”

⭒

| 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 |

| taglist: @moasworld @beautifulixr @vixensss @yeetfellx @g00dtimenotlongtim3 @letrasalvientoblog |

#lee felix smut #lee felix x reader #felix x reader #skz felix #skz smut #stray kids #skz fanfic #lee felix fluff #skz fluff

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dazaiandhislovelybandages · 5 months

Text

There for you {Shinichiro Sano}

A/n: I feel utterly ridiculous for writing this but unfortunately this is the only way to get my feelings out. This whole scenario is literally what I'm going through rn, I wrote it just in case I could sort my feelings out, maybe see a possible answer to my questions but unfortunately I don't. This little vent is literally so uncalled for but I actually have no one else to turn to and talk because I only have one friend

Pairing: Shinichiro Sano x f!reader

Warnings: strong mentions of self hatred, mental breakdown, feelings of worthlessness,

Christmas at the Sano household was definitely the best time of the year. Technically Christmas wasn't there yet but with two young kids, two hyperactive young kids, in the house, decoration time came early.

It was a nice day so far, a little too chilly and with dark clouds approaching, but it was a nice day for mid to late November. It was the reason you had decided to skip your morning classes at university, preferring sitting on Shinichiro's bed to freezing in the auditorium.

You could swear you were walking faster than your normal pace, crossing the street and taking a sharp turn to the left. Your day hadn't started well and getting to see Mikey, Emma and Shinichiro. They were the only people whose laughter and clinginess would definitely not bother you when feeling down.

"I swear the next time I see you not dressed properly..." Shinichiro was leaning at the wall outside of the household, a cigarette lazily placed between his lips. Grandpa Sano would have definitely scolded him about smoking inside the house. "It's cold, baby." He reached up and removed the scarf he was wearing, wrapping it around your neck.

"Thanks." You smiled, getting on your tiptoes to place a soft kiss on his cheek.

But Shinichiro was no fool. Considering it mostly a curse rather than a gift, Shinichiro could easily feel it whenever you were feeling down.

"What's wrong?" He asked, and if you didn't know him any better, you would have sworn he didn't care. But it was Shinichiro's usual laid back tone.

"What happened?" You asked him back, wanting to avoid this as much as possible because the tears in the corners of your eyes were threatening to fall.

"You can't fool me, babe." He removed the cigarette from his lips, throwing it on the street to light it out before picking it up and throwing it in the nearby garbage. "Now what's wrong?" His hands quickly found your waist, not caring about the old lady watching you from across the street.

"Do you want to guess?" It was a stupid attempt really, but if you were going to talk about your feelings then you would very much like to do it in a light-hearted way.

"Your best friend who is not your best friend because you don't know if she feels the same keeps talking about how much she likes her other friends?"

It wasn't that surprising. Shinichiro was always so attentive to whatever happened in your life. In the early stages of your relationship it had really taken you aback, thinking that he actually wrote things down somewhere. But no, he was just like that.

"Close."

An expression that could be translated as one of pure disgust and exasperation replaced the soft and caring one. "What did she do this time?" He looked at the sky, letting out a sigh.

"She called me this morning saying she is heading to this trip with them... I don't mind really, she can do whatever she wants but..."

"But you're tired of always coming second and pushed to the side."

If it wasn't the situation you had been in for the past year, with whom you thought was your best friend constantly talking about her other friends, saying how great and funny they were all the time, then it was definitely Shinichiro's warm gaze that made you cry.

The expression on his face turned into a serious one as you began crying in his embrace, his left hand pressing your head on his chest and his right resting on your face.

It wasn't the first time you had cried in his arms, complaining about your only friend and he was sure that unless you actually stepped up to say something to her it wouldn't be the last.

He didn't mind listening to you. He loved listening to you. What he did mind was the way you were being treated, constantly pushed to the side but then given a second of affection from your friend. He had told you many times that this wasn't what friendship was supposed to be like and you always agreed.

"Am I doing something wrong?" Your voice came out broken. His turtleneck black shirt was now stained with tears but he didn't care. "Am I a bad friend?"

"Of course not-"

"Then why?" You cut him off and just when he thought you were going to stop crying, another fit came again with your hands clenching onto his shirt. "Why do I always have to listen about others but never have someone talk about me? Why am I the friend who always learns things last? Why am I the friend who receives the short end of the stick?"

Before Shinichiro could respond, he felt something hitting his arm. Still pressing his head on his chest, he turned his head around to look towards the direction where whatever had hit him came from.

And there they were. Mikey, Emma and Baji with oranges on their hands.

"I didn't... do anything." He tried to defend himself, his hand moving to caress your hair even though you had stopped crying. "Manjiro go wear a jacket right now."

"You make her cry, you pay." Emma's eyes narrowed, her grip on the orange tightening.

"If you want to throw oranges at the one who made her cry, I can gladly give you an address-"

"Shin!" You hit him playfully on his arm.

"What?" He looked down at you, taking the cigarette packet out of his pocket. "Maybe if they hit your best friend hard on the head she'll come to her senses."

"I want to throw oranges at someone's head!" Mikey turned to look at an equally eager Baji.

"No you don't." You walked towards him, taking the oranges from his small hands.

"Why?" Mikey and Baji asked in one voice, their eyes shining while looking at you.

"Because it's wrong, we've talked about this." Shinichiro joined you, taking the oranges from Emma's hands.

"You've talked about not throwing oranges at people before?" You turned to look at him, almost surprised.

"It... um... has come up... as a subject of discussion before..." Shinichiro urged the kids to go back inside and pulled you in another hug. "Do you feel better now?"

"I don't know what to do..." You mumbled, resting your chin on his chest so you can look up at him.

"Talk to her... and if that doesn't work, just leave." He pressed a loving kiss on your forehead. "It's better not to have any friends than to feel like that. And it's not your fault." You let out a sigh and looked away. Shinichiro quickly grabbed your cheek gently, forcing you to look at him. "No, no, eyes on me. Look at me and tell me that it's not your fault."

"It's not my fault." You mumbled.

"Good girl." With his arm now wrapped around your shoulder, Shinichiro walked the two of you inside, sure that with a cup of hot cocoa and the dance Mikey and Baji had prepared for the Christmas decoration day, you would soon feel way way better.

#sano shinichiro #sano shinichiro x reader #tokyo revengers shinichiro #shinichiro x reader #shinichiro sano #tr shinichiro #tokrev shinichiro #tokyo revengers shinichiro x reader #shinichiro sano x reader #tr shinichiro x reader #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #writing #anime and manga #anime #manga #tokyo revengers fluff #shinichiro fluff

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taeraeszn · 10 months

Note

hii! how r u :) i hope your requests are open and if they are could you maybe do something about zb1 realizing they missed a date with their partner and try to make it up to them?? its fine if you cant!

when zb1 misses a date with their partner

hey luv! thank you for requesting! just to let you guys know, my schedule is much more busier these days so i will be releasing out request slowly <3

anywho, i'm kinda excited to be doing the opposite of my last post?? obv it's not good that they stood their partner up but how the turn tables

also some of these probably don't even count but i thought some of the scenarios were so cute - sorry!!

warnings: mentions of food but i don't think there is any more?? (ik i say this ALL the time but i really try to avoid any touchy subjects/topics). but pls lmk if there are any!!

kim jiwoong

you were at the place you always met up with jiwoong, a simple park nestled in the heart of your city

jiwoong told you that he would be there in around 30 minutes but that thirty minutes turned up to be almost two hours of you waiting there

you were a bit hurt by your boyfriend's actions and decided to head home as it was reaching the two hour mark

the park was incredibly silent too, it seemed that you were the only person there

but just as you turned to begin walking home, a loud shout of your name came from behind you

"(NAME)!" you heard jiwoong call, he was running with a cap on as well as a black mask, clearly to hide his identity

"jiwoong??" your brows furrowed. when he finally came towards you, he was out of breath

"i-i'm so sorry! i was suddenly called in for practice and i couldn't just leave-"

you immediately shut him up with a hug, he was puzzled but softened into your embrace

"it's ok jiwoong. i understand that practice can hold you up. just please message me beforehand."

he was so thankful that you were understanding and held your hand

"thank you love. now what do you want to do?"

"i just want to relax with you, at home."

"okay then, lead the way my love."

rest of the members are under the cut!

zhang hao

zhang hao didn't technically miss your date, he actually showed up

but he did end up missing it because he ran into an old friend halfway through. the friend was clearly not happy to see you two with your hands interlinked together and decided to make up an excuse that they had no ride home as it was raining

zhang hao being the kind soul that he is didn't hesitate to step up and help, he told you he would be back in a few minutes

well that few minutes didn't happen as you had sat there in silence following his leave that was for nearly any hour. it was very awkward to say the least with everyone sending remorseful looks towards you

you sighed and got up to leave, you know that his friend did that purely to separate you two which pissed you off even more

as you were at the bus stop, you saw zhang hao's figure running towards you

"wait! baobei!" he shouted. you were still bothered by what happened but still gave your boyfriend a smile when he returned

"what are you doing here?" he asked, you gave him a slight smile, "i'm heading home."

"but my car is there." you sighed

"hao, i understand that you wanted to take them home but why did it take so long? i was sitting there by myself for an hour."

he noticed your disappointment and rubbed your shoulder, "i'm sorry. they just began talking with to catch up and i got ahead of time. please forgive me love. i promise i will make it up to you."

you put up your pinky finger to him, "promise?" he connected his pinky with yours, "promise." his warm smile reassured you

he then gently tugged your arm, "c'mon, let's go to my car. it's much better than the bus."

"let's go!" you held his hand and began walking to the parking lot

sung hanbin

for your 6 year anniversary, you two had planned a romantic date together. you were so happy to be with hanbin as he always made you feel special

but your excitement slowly faded away as hanbin had no sign of showing up, causing you sit there alone for nearly an hour

you had called and texted him but to no avail. at this point you were worried. maybe it was traffic? well yeah this was downtown so there must've been...or maybe something abruptly came up?

just then in the midst of your thoughts, there came hanbin an hour later with roses and something else small in his other hand

"happy anniversary love." he handed you the flowers and sat down with you. everyone in the restaurant was giving you smiles and happy looks to hanbin's appearance

"where have you been?" he smirked, "i've been planning something. actually, i've been planning it since we met that faithful day in class."

he got up from his seat and opened the small box that was in his hand to reveal a shiny ring, you gasped and then realized what he was doing

hanbin then got on one knee, causing everyone in the restaurant to share the same surprised expression

"(name), i love you and i want to spend the rest of my life with you, till death do us apart. you are my entire world and i can't imagine spending my future life without you as my partner. will you marry me?"

you were already tearing up and quickly nodded, "yes, yes, yes! a billion times yes! i will marry you hanbin!"

he then got up to spin you in his arms as everyone in the room clapped and congratulated you, hanbin slyly slid the ring down your finger as it shined

"it fit's perfectly." he sighed in relief, "oh thank god, i was worried it wouldn't because i didn't know your ring size."

you embraced him again, "thank you hanbin for choosing me."

"you know i'll always choose you love."

(this actually made me emo hELP ok moving on)

seok matthew

funny enough, matthew wasn't even supposed to miss your date, you two had it all planned out with what time you would go as well as getting your tickets early

but he got sick and had let you know beforehand, but you were incredibly sad as you were going to watch the movie that you both wanted to see together alone

though matthew told you to enjoy it, you couldn't help but feel a teensy bit guilty as matthew was telling you how much he wanted to see the movie

you wished he could've been beside you holding your hand or resting his head on your shoulder, also vice versa

you could barely focus on the film itself as you worried for your boyfriend's health

the credits finally rolled and you immediately made your way to matthew's place

as you opened the door, you heard the sounds of coughing and sneezing coming from his room. you rushed to his cabinet to get some medicine and walked into his room

"matt!" you said, he seemed relieved seeing you but you noticed how he was curled up into his blanket and the tissue box placed on his side table

"(name)! how was the movie?" you pulled him into a hug, not caring if you would get sick, "i missed you. it didn't feel the same without you."

he grinned, "so does that means i have an effect on you?"

you playfully rolled your eyes and you sat next to matthew in the cozy blanket, "yeah, yeah. a huge effect."

"but you didn't answer my question." he said, you shrugged, "it was good but i spaced out for most of the film. i just needed you with me."

he put your head gently on his shoulder, rubbing it. "you have me now for as long as you want."

kim taerae

(taerae is a businessman in this scenario)

you and taerae had been planning a romantic date night ever since he got the promotion at the company he was working for

it was a huge deal and you wanted to congratulate him in some way and give him something to relax with

but this promotion also meant that taerae would get more work that made him stay overtime at the building

you were worried that he would have to stay late on your date night, but taerae continuously reassured you that everything would work out fine

but of course the world isn't that perfect. your worries became reality as you were left alone at the chosen restaurant

you already knew something like this would occur and weren't even shocked when it happened

and then you got the text with taerae apologizing and stating that he would be coming home late. without thinking twice, you left the restaurant without ordering anything

you were up that night watching a tv show in your pj's when the door opened to your shared place, there you saw taerae in his suit. "your still up?" you hummed in response

he then came towards you and suddenly wrapped his arms around you, "i'm sorry. i know how much you wanted to go on that date."

you sighed, "this isn't about me taerae. i wanted you to have a night to relax so you could treat yourself. i'm happy you got your promotion but i wish you could have more time for yourself."

he pressed his lips on your forehead, "i know and i'll try my best to get my work done quicker so i don't worry you. i just want us to have a good life together. i'll do better."

you nuzzled your face in his chest as you hugged him, "thank you taerae. i know how hard you work."

shen ricky

you were waiting for ricky at the downtown aquarium that was well known in your city. you didn't realize how much you were checking the time on your phone waiting for him

"where is he?" you mumbled to yourself. standing by the door made it even more awkward as everyone was staring at you while walking into the front doors

you sighed as it was approaching the one hour mark and there was no sign of ricky arriving. did you do something? what would cause him to not come when he always came to your dates?

you decided to give up on waiting for him and took the train home in disappointment. not even a call or message, nothing, you were bitter to how your night went and just curled up in bed

a few minutes later, you heard frantic knocking at your door. it didn't take a genius to know who it was. when you opened it, you saw ricky holding a bouquet of roses as he handed it to you

"(name), i'm so sorry. it's a long story but i can explain."

you sighed, not knowing how to react to the situation you were faced with, "i don't know ricky. i just feel really let down."

"please, just let me in and we can talk. trust me, i would never leave you hanging on purpose."

you had no choice but to let him in, as you two were sitting on your couch, he handed you the bouquet

"i can assure you that i purposely didn't miss the date. the road i was usually go on got closed and i had to go the other route which took me longer than the regular route i take. by the time i got there, you were already gone."

everything finally made sense and now you felt kinda bad for feeling bitter before

"trust me (name). i love you so much. i'll do anything to make it up-" you quickly shut him up with a kiss on the lips. ricky paused for a second before naturally resting his hand on your side as he returned the favour

"it's okay ricky. just call me next time this happens so i'm not worried."

"next time, i promise i will."

kim gyuvin

"gyuvin where are you??" you asked, looking around the mall for any sight of him

"uh...it's a... long story." he said, pausing in between his words. you were confused to say the least as gyuvin promised to meet up with you at the nearby mall to grab some food and go shopping

"i have lots of time." you replied, just then you heard some people shouting in the background of his call

"gyu, who is that?" you asked, you waited for him to compose an answer as the call went silent for a while

"i'll call you back! i'm sorry something came up! i love you!"

the call then ended, causing you to be left with mixed feelings, what was even going on in that call? it was so random and unlike how gyuvin usually acts

a few hours passed and you were sitting at your dining table at home, devouring on some pasta you had just finished making when you got a facetime call from non other than kim gyuvin himself

you were reluctant to answer but did nonetheless. the first thing you saw was gyuvin running outside, seemingly out of breath. "gyuvin? what are you doing?"

he gave you a slight smile, "i want to talk to so i'm running to your house right now. i'm pretty sure i could win a marathon right now."

you faintly chuckled, "okay...but why?"

just then it cut and a few minutes later you were met with him at your door

"care to explain to me why i was left at the mall alone?" you questioned, he plopped down on your bed, making himself at home

"blame hanbin hyung, not me!" he put his hands up, "i had to stay at practice since i wasn't able to master the dance! i tried to run away but hanbin forced me to stay!"

it finally made sense, "oh...well i guess that explains it."

"yeah so stop being mad at me!" he exclaimed, "i won't! also you should be at the dorms right now."

he seemed unaffected and shrugged, "they can try and catch me but i just want to be with your right now."

park gunwook

there was a small place to grab food near where you and gunwook both lived and he kept begging you to go with him one day

you agreed and though you came at the right time, gunwook had seemed the forget about the date, leaving you by yourself

the owner of the shop, an older woman, noticed you and frowned, "what are you doing here alone?"

"oh well, i was supposed to meet with someone but they haven't showed up."

the owner was kind enough to offer you some free food due to your situation but it didn't get rid of the feeling you had inside of you

gunwook was someone who'd always remember important events or days so this caught you off guard

you ended your visit earlier than expected and began walking home when you felt someone grab your wrist

it was park gunwook, he had a guilty expression on his face, clearly feeling bad for what happened

"i know there's no excuses for missing our date but i promise you it wasn't intentional." he began, "i'm really sorry and if you want we can still go somewhere else to make up for it."

you were still wondering what had caused him to not show up in the first place

so you asked, "gunwook i know you have never missed our dates, what happened today?"

he sighed, "we set the fire alarm off in our dorm while cooking, i should've informed you beforehand."

your eyes widened, "WHAT? is everyone okay?!" he nodded, "yeah but it was mainly my fault."

you hit his chest, "you cooked didn't you?"

he shyly looked down, "i wanted to impress the members but i guess that didn't work out."

you poked his cheek, "you always impress me gunwook. you don't need to prove anything."

he grabbed your hand and began taking you somewhere, "let's go, i have to make up for what i did."

han yujin

well technically an indoor date, yujin had promised you that he'd come over to your house since you were home alone and wanted to watch the drama that you were both binge watching on your projector

so as you prepped the food and drinks, the minutes passed by and yujin hadn't shown up

this was concerning but your brushed it off as something came up. but then another hour passed and he still wasn't here

now it was becoming worrying and you called yujin, only for it to go to voicemail right away

deep down you felt upset that you prepared all of this only for your boyfriend to never show up, and as the night got darker, you began putting the food away and wrapping up for bedtime

your parents had also returned home from their day out so you weren't even home alone anymore

you didn't get an answer to any of this until yujin called you himself

"(name), please don't be mad. i really couldn't leave."

"what do you mean yujin? i prepared everything for us and yet you didn't show up." your tone was obviously very unpleased

"i know, and i'm sorry. i ended up running into a friend while heading to your house and we hung out, i didn't realize how quickly time went by and completely forgot about our date."

though his explanation did tell you why he didn't show up, you were still conflicted with if you should forgive him or not

"then...it's okay. if you want to hang out with your other friends too then that's fine with me."

"no, i want to be with you more than anyone. let's hang out tomorrow, my place. we can watch our drama together then to make up for today." he seemed very firm on wanting to be with you which caused you to grin

"okay, i'll see you tomorrow then. you better show up!" you exclaimed. he chuckled on the other end

"if i don't then you won't ever have to see me again." he joked, reminding you of how much he loved you

#zb1 #zerobase1 #zerobaseone #zb1 fluff #zb1 scenarios #zb1 drabbles #zb1 reactions #zb1 x reader #park gunwook #sung hanbin #kim jiwoong #kim taerae #kim gyuvin #seok matthew #han yujin #shen ricky #ricky #zhang hao #zb1 imagines

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purplelupins · 1 month

Text

Lamb

|Midnight Mass|

Father John Pruitt/Father Paul Hill x Fem!

Reader

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V

Word count: 13.5K

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

I invite you to listen to the playlist I made that goes along with the story.

Notes: **please read** This story is told partially from John Pruitt's pov and partially from readers, as such, when it's John's (Paul) it will refer to him as John, seeing as he had no need for the alias when it's from his pov. But when it's from readers, she will be referring to him as Paul Hill. Thank you!

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Crude oil is destructive to say the least. It is thick, and cloying; dense and dark and it holds no mercy for anything it touches. It kills and pollutes and fuses itself to anything it touches like some dependant parasitic bond. Not that it knows any better.

At one time, Crockett Island was a home off the Eastern coast to close to 500 residences. There was a harmony and calmness to that time; back when the island had summer visitors, and talks of an airport, and no one had to worry about how to pay for their groceries or if they could afford to pay for house repairs after a bad storm. Back when people were alive and helped eachother and laughed.

As the Breeze approached the marina of Crockett Island, there was a passenger who stood outside, leaning against the railing as he remembered Crockett when it was a secret haven. Then that horrible accident…Now, it was more akin to a shelter to the last 127 souls who remained. The brisk maritime wind tousled his black curled hair and flickered into his eyes.

Not that he minded too terribly- he didn't mind much of anything.

John Pruitt sucked in a full breath of the sea air- something he hadnt been able to do in decades when his old self's lungs had began to weaken. It nearly brought tears to his eyes to have been blessed with this second chance as he took in the mass of land before him. His home. His duty. John knew what he had to do. A needle of anxiety poked at him as he hoped his large cargo was still safe in the hold of the small ferry. Of course it was, but he couldnt help but worry until it was safely tucked away in the rectory.

His gift.

“I’m here to help…just here to help…” He repeated in his head.

The ferry lurched as it docked, though his sturdy frame barely flinched. John blinked, and adjusted his satchel one last time before coming to the off-boarding ramp. He slowly and shyly looked at the other passengers, and had to press his tongue to his teeth to keep from acknowledging a familiar face that stood only a few feet from him.

Riley Flynn.

It had been years since he had seen that face, and he felt a swell of happiness at the prospect of having another addition to his flock to receive this gift he so eagerly wished to bestow upon them. He could hardly wait to see each face and see them properly with his rejuvinated sight. See how they’ve grown and aged. He couldn’t wait to help them.

John stood off to the side after exiting the boat as he waited for his trunk.

"Whatcha waitin' for?" Came a gruff voice that John knew well.

He turned to see the island handyman, Sturge, and a small smile pulled at his cupids bow, "My trunk…should be the largest thing on there I’m afraid." John said.

Sturge huffed a little, but nodded, "Yeah its comin', you need a hand gettin' it to where your goin' we got a..." The man droned on about helping the man transport his precious cargo, but unfortunately John had inadvertently tuned him out after something had caught his eye; someone to be precise.

It was the shrill chime of a bicycle bell that had initially drawn his attention, though now he was entranced by the young woman riding the very bike that had made it.

The same wind that had combed through his own hair was now blowing yours back as you came to a stop by the small marine building for the fishermen; a large parcel was fastened to the back of your bike. In fact you were so engrossed in calling to the fishermen on the dock, while unfastening the goods from your bike that you didn’t notice the supposed stranger with his brown eyes glued to you. Staring at how the men approached you and tried to sneak a look at what you brought for them; of course he also was not blind to the evident leers you recieved from the same men. Men he knew were married and had children who he had baptised over the years.

Yet here he was practially on their same level as he watched you; transfixed by the way your hair would get caught in the breeze, and how your cheeks were a lovely pink from the cold. how you had a certain incandescence to you that brought up the spirits of the worn down fishermen.

In John's old age, he hadn't been able to see you properly since you were born; cataracts and dementia coupled with a few other ailments made you into a foggy memory for him, even now. But he knew you. He knew you had been a lovely little girl, and had decided to remain on the island and open a small bakery; John could recall Bev mentioning it a few times that you made food for the Crockpot luck each year. He remembered thanking you...not that he could properly appreciate your gift. You were a familiar face to St. Patrick’s, too.

It was only now that he could recall baptising you some twenty years ago when he had just broached 60 years...and he could see what a stellar young woman you had grown into.

Beautiful.

John had mumbled something to Sturge about only needing help to get out of the marina, and his hand gripped the top of his bag absentmindedly as his eyes flickered over you handing out pastries and sweet treats to the men.

You smiled so brightly that it truly must have been one of the many gifts you were given in life from God. Your calling to brighten up the cloudy days of Crockett island.

A patch of sunlight.

As John pulled the crate up the stairs to the rectory and pushed it across the floor, the solitude finally let him start to think. He knocked on the trunk twice, and slumped against the side as his mind began to wander. John Pruitt had been a priest for well over 60 years; he had seen and heard and dealt with just about every scandal, thought, sin, doubt and joy you could think of. Which was why he knew that there was a divine reason behind your delivery to the fishermen coinciding with his arrival.

It was no random coincidence that your face was among the first he saw upon returning. God’s plan was at work, and John felt anticipation fill him at the thought.

You were a good girl, just like your parents raised you to be, and it wasn’t as if you had a reason not to be. You had made a comfortable life after your family had either left or passed. Moving was expensive and you liked the quiet. It was a simple life and an easy one. Habitual and concise.

You went to church on Sundays and attended daily mass with Leeza. She loved your cinnamon rolls, and you liked to sneak a few into her bag. John remembered noticing that after daily mass one day. It made his chest swell with what he told himself was pride and admiration; not pining and adoration. It excited him to see someone so full of life, even if it was quietly. But that excitement was a double edged sword, after all it too made the Father dread it when he felt it in him. That excitement would settle low in his stomach and make him lose his train of thought.

A test. It was all a test.

The first time you saw the man was when you were leaving the dock that morning. It was strange to see a new face on Crockett, let alone a handsome one at that. You had wished you were heading in his direction so as to give him a welcome; he had such a large trunk with him that you wished you could have given him a hand too. But alas you were needed in the opposite way back down Main Street.

You petalled down the road, and dropped off a few more deliveries down the island to the elders who couldn’t venture too far. Your routine every other day from 10:30 in the morning for an hour.

John knew that too. He remembered feeling someone cycle past him with a soft greeting everytime he visited town after mass. Everything was starting to click back into place as his memory was replenished.

You finished your route, and hopped off your bike as you came to the little bundle of shops in town.

You knew Monsignor Pruitt was returning the next day, and you found yourself hopeful that he hadnt exhausted himself…you were also excited for Bev to calm down after weeks of her relentless, poor moods…and that was saying something for a woman who already lacked a pleasant temperament. The Monsignor always seemed to calm her…perhaps it was that she was able to abuse his position for herself-

You took a deep breath to calm yourself as your temper flared at the thought.

The following day, Saturday, was your day to yourself. Your little shop remained closed until Sunday afternoon, and your appreciation for the downtime was great. You took extra time for yourself, and sat down to read that book that you had promised to read last year; tried a new recipe for dinner and baked yourself a fresh batch of cookies. It wasn’t terribly interesting, but it was easy, and you liked that.

As you brushed your hair out for sleep, your thoughts wandered to that strange face you had seen exit the Breeze the day previous. You wondered if he was visiting someone or if he was some kind of inspector for the island…so little happened on Crockett that new faces were so obvious. You were surprised no one had mentioned him during your day at the shop.

You shrugged it off.

It wasn’t your business.

The rosary you clutched as you prayed beside your bed dug into your skin as you squeezed it unconsciously. Some nights your worship came with difficulty…you mind wandered and you wondered if you were doing the right thing…praying to the right god. Not that you would tell anyone that.

You didn’t sleep well that night. Somehow you repeatedly awoke every few hours to a deep sinking in your gut and prickle up your neck that kept you from returning to sleep. The restlessness had you surrendering just before dawn, and you wrapped a thick blanket around yourself as you sat in front of your window that just peaked over the water. Your bleary gaze was heavy, though you felt yourself sober when you swore you saw a dark figure move into the thick bushes. You jumped, and felt your blood freeze, but when you leaned a little closer to look out, there was nothing but the gentle sway of the trees in the wind. It was so easy to dismiss what you had seen as simply your tired mind playing tricks on you.

You rubbed the heels on your hands into your eyes, and sighed as you stood.

Coffee. A coffee was needed.

The dirt road was muddy with the approaching storm that would be on the horizon in a few days. You hoped this one wouldn’t be too damaging.

You followed behind Leeza with Dolly, and told them what you had baked that morning for your shop, while Erin and Wade listened; enjoying how the air smelled of petrichor and pine. There was a comfortable chatter amongst everyone as they grew happy to welcome their Monsignor back to Crockett.

You sat yourself in the middle, in the same seat you always took. After months of Father Pruitt being gone, you routine was beginning to settle again.

The small organ began playing, and you stood to start singing with everyone else, but then as the alter boys passed you and you watched them, there was an unfamiliar voice behind them. You slowed your singing as you were once again distracted; sure enough, there was a much younger man who passed down the aisle in a gold chasuble and his hands held in prayer.

That same man from the dock.

You felt confusion fill you, and evidently you weren’t the only one as the churchgoers exchanged confused glances with eachother. You looked over at Wade, hoping he might look a little less confused as the mayor, but he mirrored every other face.

Knowing you weren’t getting any answers from your peers, you directed your attention to the pulpit as the stranger walked up to it.

“Good morning,” the man began, “I know I’m not who you expected to see this morning. I’m Father Paul Hill, and I was sent by the diocese to fill in for Monsignor Pruitt. Just know that I’m only here to help, and I look forward to meeting you all.”

You blinked in surprise at his explanation, thought you supposed it wasn’t entirely strange- just unexpected. Had something happened? You remembered how so many islanders had advised the Father not to make the journey, and now you were wondering if you all should have insisted harder.

The man looked a little nervous, but hopeful as he looked around to his new flock. But as his gaze passed over yours, you noted it paused for a moment. You smiled a little a him in hopes that it might make him feel a little welcome, and you briefly wondered if he recognized you from the marina.

There was a lilt to his strong, low voice that made you listen. He was compelling and direct; certainly not what you were used to with Monsignor Pruitt. He had always been a wonderful preacher, but for the last decade, he had grown slow and drawling.

You remembered your mother saying something about “It’s not about the sermon or who’s giving it, it’s just about being reminded of god and our mortality in this life.” And while you had always agreed with the sentiment, there was something about being invigorated while at church that was making your fingertips tingle.

You could already tell that Father Hill was appreciated amongst the churchgoers. There was a softness in their weathered faces as he spoke, like he was indeed connecting them to God.

As everyone filed in for the sacrament, you fell in line and felt your palms start to sweat. A part of you was thankful that Bev was there to provide the wine and your…replacement; you didn’t want to have to stop the church proceedings just to explain why you couldn’t drink the wine.

The discovery of your ethanol allergy had come as a distressful lesson when you had first drank the sacrament as a child. You still remembered what a fuss everyone made and how you had been rushed to Dr.Gunning who had only graduated from medical school recently. From then on your Monsignor had been very understanding and blessed your separate cup of grape juice every mass from then on.

When you accepted the wafer, and accepted the smaller cup from Bev, you noted in the back of your mind that the priest before you looked a little shaken as you drank. You paid it no mind- he was new and he likely had his quirks.

But it was no quirk. The Father felt his shoulders sink, and blood drain from his face as he watched Bev hand you that cup. He felt his idiocy fill him, then the subsequent dread and horror that followed his realisation.

You couldn’t drink the communion wine.

You never had.

A flash of the first day you tried it made his head hurt as he recalled how distraught your mother was upon learning what had happened. He tried to push the worried expression on his young face away but he was sure it was now more of a grimace.

You couldn’t accept the gift.

Panic clouded Johns mind as he continued to give the sacrament to each of the islanders. The devil on his shoulder proposed that it simply wasn’t your fate to be given the gift. But John had learned to ignore that horned heathen well, and he knew he must do something to guide you with the rest of his flock.

No lamb left behind.

As you filed out to leave, you walked behind Annie Flynn and her son Riley.

He had left years ago when you were still in your mid teens, and he didn’t exactly leave a lasting impression on a teenager. They stopped for a moment to speak with the new father, and while you wanted to say hello to the pastor, you hated to linger and get in people’s way; you knew you would see the Father again, and so you went to skirt around Annie, but as fate would have it, their conversation ended quickly, and the older woman took you by the arm as her son left.

“This is the beating heart of Crockett herself!” She beamed at you while you stood there suddenly locked in conversation with the young priest.

Annie had always appreciated your positive attitude and good nature. You found yourself always trying to cheer her up on her worst days while she worried herself sick about her husband and her son on the mainland. She was a mother through and through, and you often held her as a place-holder for your own flesh and blood since you saw your family only a couple times a year since they moved away.

And Annie seemed content with that. She had always wanted a daughter. The way she gushed about you then to the Father and introduced you had you trying to brush off the praise with a few failed “Oh no I-“ and “I’m not-“ and so forth. Your flushed cheeks had another agenda entirely however when you finally looked up at the Fathers gaze.

It was those soft brown eyes of his that struck you first. So focused and yet so…sad. Like he might cry at any moment. You wondered if his eyes stung.

He was handsome in a weathered, timid sort of way; couldn’t have been more than mid forties. He looked as if he had seen years of life beyond his age. Perhaps years of absolving sins had taken a toll.

“She is our baker here on Crockett…helps liven up the plain variety of food we have.” She half joked, thought it was mostly truth. Crockett was a place of bread and butter- basics. So a treat of some kind was greatly appreciated, and you were happy to deliver just that.

“Ah yes…the Monsignor mentioned his love for your pastries.” He smiled genuinely and nodded as if recalling being told, “I’ll be sure to stop by.”

There was a boyishness to him that endearing enough to settle your nerves.

Your eyes widened in surprise, “He did?” You asked.

You were certain Pruitt wouldn’t be able to recall something so insignificant in his declining health and old age. It had only been a few years that you had been running the shop, and you knew he hadn’t been fully coherent long before that. A poetic connection between him and Crockett Island you supposed.

Father Paul seemed delighted by your shock though, and the crows feet around his eyes deepened, “Yes he was quite adamant I assure you. I believe you’re also a regular face I will be seeing and that it may just be you and Leeza at times.” He added.

You clasped your hands in front of you to keep from fidgeting.

“I- well I try to be.” You looked away timidly, and shuffled your feet as Annie smiled at you. You weren’t used to someone being so passionate about small things- let alone a man.

“Oh she’s just modest.” The older woman said.

Father Paul chuckled, “Modesty is a virtue. Now, I noticed you weren’t able to drink the sacramental wine, is there something I should know?” He seemed so curious and invested.

You nodded, “I’m afraid I’m allergic to something in wine- ethanol. I’ve always been given plain grape juice instead…the Monsignor was always kind enough to have it ready. I hope that won’t be a problem-“

Father Paul shook his head as he rushed to put your mind at ease.

“-no no not- not in the least I assure you. Your presence and dedication is more than enough…you still receive the lords blessing even if it is from a sweeter drink.” He mused.

“Thank you, Father.” You replied and looked down again so as to hide the warming of your cheeks again.

Annie smiled and hugged you, “Well then, not to cut this short, Father but I’m starting my shift in a half hour. I’ll see you then?” She asked you.

You nodded, “Sure will. I’ll make us some coffee. I’m sure the sheriff could use some too.” You called after her as she walked away and bid the father farewell. Leaving the two of you to stand together. You turned back to Father Hill as he towered over you, and fought to find something to say as your nerves kicked in. You were usually good at finding conversation but you felt like you were a kid being forced to talk to some family member your mom insisted you knew.

You took a deep breath. “It was-“

“I hope-“

You both spoke over each other, and both looked at one another apologetically. You shook your head and smiled a little to ease his embarrassment, “Please you first, Father Hill.”

He looked at you for a moment for confirmation to ensure that he wasn’t being rude then he began again, “I was only going to say that I hope to see you here again…it’s enlightening to see a youthful face in a church.” He grinned- a curl of his dark hair falling over his forehead as he looked down at you.

You returned his grin, though yours was a little forced in comparison.

Attending church was a routine ingrained in you since childhood, and now it was just something expected of you. You knew the day you didn’t attend would make the talk of the town and you were never in the mood for Beverly to come knocking on your door to berate you.

You could still remember a couple years ago when you were sick and she brought you a batch of soup for you to help…the offer had been kind enough, but the soup itself had made you want to curl into a ball and chew on a dead seagull.

“I assure you.” You echoed his words from earlier, and he smiled. “I’ll see you soon. Enjoy the rest of your day, Father.” You said, and slowly stepped past him.

He turned his body to follow you. John told himself it was manners to speak to someone with your whole attention, and while that was true, he simply needed one last proper look at you before you left.

“Likewise, y/n.” He called to you as you walked down the steps. Out of your peripheral, you could see Bev still bending by the ear of one of the community members, and you made quick work of sending her a tight smile then hurrying along the path to the road. She returned the forced expression; not that she knew you forced it. Practice makes perfect.

The hairs on the back of your neck began to stand on end as you descended the hill from St. Patrick’s. There was something in the back of your mind that told you not to look behind you, but against your better judgement, you did just that. A pair of soft brown eyes were trained on you as you walked.

The Father’s stare startled you and made your stride stutter.

He was intense and direct. He wasn’t like most of the islanders, and he made you uneasy somehow, but regardless, you cast him a friendly wave, and continued on your way- but that same prickle on the back of your neck simply wouldn’t let go.

John watched you go until your head disappeared down onto the main road and out of sight. He felt his nerves pick up as he said his last goodbyes and returned inside the church. He sat amongst the pews and stared up at the four walls around him. The weight of the gift he was tasked to reveal was growing heavy. He wished so badly to bestow this marvel to every dedicated church goer, and he would.

To every single one except you.

Why you?

Certainly you were in some way special; that had been revealed to him when it had been your face for him to first see upon returning.

Fate.

But if that were the case then surely your way to salvation should be easier…yet here you were unable to accept it; all because of an allergy.

John sighed as he made up his mind to proceed as he did with the rest of his flock. He hoped you wouldn’t taste the blood in your juice tomorrow- if you did he would simply have to find another way for you to accept it.

No lamb left behind.

The walk into town that usually brought you so much peace now came with an impending sense of foreboding. You knew that nasty storm was nearly at your doors, but storms had never bothered you too much. No, there was something in the air that made you all too aware of your heartbeat, and your breath and how your skin felt. You barely paid attention to anything around you as your leisurely pace unconsciously changed into one of hurry.

It wasn’t until you had just passed by the general store, and didn’t respond to Hassan’s greeting that you snapped out of your trance.

“Y/n? Y/n you alright?” He called to you as you strode right past him.

You nearly jumped out of your skin.

“Sh-sheriff, I’m so sorry…” you stopped in your tracks and furrowed your brow as you fought to find an answer for your odd attitude, “I’m…I think I’m just a little out of it today.” You laughed.

The Sheriff glanced you over for a moment, then nodded slowly. “There’s a fresh pot inside.” He tipped his cup filled with black coffee to you. He was a nice man. Exhausted…mistreated, but caring.

You smiled and nodded, “I’ll come by in a few minutes. Thank you.” You hoped your smile would reassure him. You didn’t need to worry an already stressed father and someone you would consider a friend. An awkward older friend who needed a break but a friend nonetheless. “Want an eclair? Got a few extra that I made this morning.” You asked.

He shook his head gently, “If I didn’t know better I’d say you were trying to give me my own form of insulation for winter.”

You gasped in faux shock, and shook your head, “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

The pebbles and dirt crunched under your boots as you stepped up to the little entrance of your bakery beside the general store. As soon as you stepped inside, you suddenly felt a little safer…at ease. As if you had anything to be afraid of.

You suddenly felt very silly.

Ridiculous.

There had only been one change that day, and that was the charismatic Father Paul Hill.

Had you become so sheltered on that little island that you were afraid of a stranger coming into your community? Surely not.

No. You hadn’t felt fear in the man’s presence so who would you feel it now?

Ridiculous.

Stop it.

You closed your eyes and did your best to clear your mind of any ominous thought and any thought about the new Father.

Out of sight. Out of mind. Not your business.

You strode to the back of the shop and prepared your morning deliveries; it was always the same. It was easy. And you knew it was appreciated. Feeling important was a virtue in a small community that was run into the ground.

Making people feel cared for made you happy.

The day came and went just as it always did, but you couldn’t help but feel like the island had turned a little off its axis. Like something had just nudged it into a slight other direction. Your suspicions were only enforced and justified when almost every one of your regulars mentioned the new pastor to you as they selected their desired sweet or savoury treat from your display case.

“Such a striking young man.”

“Too modern.”

“Nothing like our dear Monsignor…but I can’t say I’ve stayed so engaged during a homily in years.”

“How long do you think he’ll stay?”

“Where do you think he came from?”

And so on.

You had hoped any mention of the man would remain in your own thoughts, but it was as if he had swept through the town like a stiff winter breeze.

By the time you sold your last cheese bun and lemon tart, and closed up shop, there was a very real wind that surged right down Main Street. The cool air pricked right through your thick tights under your skirt and made you made a mental note to dig out some warmer ones.

That storm was due that evening. It had been the talk of the town all day, right after the endless conversations of the invigorating preacher. Once you had gotten home, you felt it start to push up against your boarded windows. The wind howled, and the lights flickered as the sky darkened outside; you took that as a sure sign to light a few candles.

There was something ethereal in the light from a candle. So beautiful. If you caught the flames out of the corner of your eyes, sometimes it looked like they had little halos.

You smiled softly at the thought.

You never stayed up late on storm nights. In fact you slept earlier than usual. You knelt beside your bed and clasped your hands in prayer.

“Father, as I lie down for sleep tonight, wash over me with the warmth of Your love. In Your mercy, soothe my pain, whether in my body-“ you paused your recitation when that familiar prickle began its way up the back of your neck like it had for the past two days. You listened intently, but there was nothing but the wind.

“-mind or soul. Grant me a restful night of sleep so that when I awake, I'm strengthened to do Your will. Amen.” You decided against thinking too much of the unease, and settled under your blankets and closed your eyes.

You didn’t dream that night. In fact it felt as if you had merely shut your eyes for a moment before you were opening them again at the sound of your alarm.

The storm had blown itself out by the time you took your wooden shutters off your windows. There was a sliver of light coming over the horizon as you peered out at the water. You stared at it intently, and clenched your hand into an absentminded fist.

You tried the lightswitch in your kitchen, and praised the lord that it worked. You wondered if Sturge had been up even earlier than you to fix the power lines.

The outside of your house was a mess complete with a crab trap hanging off your fence. Nets, ropes, bushes, clothes, coolers, toys riddled the streets as you walked in the dim light to your shop. But then after only a few minutes, your nose picked up a smell. You were used to the strong smell of the ocean, especially after the storms, but this was different. You started towards the beach, and nearly gagged when you got closer. You had to cover your mouth once you stood on the sand.

From left to right, the beach was littered with the corpses of cats. You knew there were quite a lot on the island, and had seen the odd dead feline, but this was as if something had wiped out every cat and dumped them by the shore.

Anxiety filled you as you stared.

“Oh my-…”

You spun around to see Hassan standing beside you; uniform half buttoned and a bag over his shoulder that you knew had his lunch. The two of you exchanged looks of distress, and you visibly started to shake the longer you looked.

“What…what would…Hassan what-…” you looked up at the man, and he only shook his head. At a loss for words.

“Cmon. I’ll walk you in. Gotta…gotta call the mayor.” He wrapped an arm around your back to direct you away from the mess, “We’ll take care of it.”

You nodded and followed his lead away from the beach and into town, but you found yourself remembering that prickle up the back of your neck that night, and wondered if it had had anything to do with the slaughter. Was there some predator that had somehow made it onto the island without anyone knowing? Was someone going around killing cats? Had the solitude of Crockett Island finally made someone snap and rip every feline to shreds?

The call of your name cut through your thoughts.

You looked up and saw that you were ex standing outside your shop, and the poor man who had walked you there looked even more distressed at your quietness.

“Thank you…thanks Hassan…I’ll…let- let me know if you find anything out.” You said quietly but gave him a small smile of reassurance.

“I will. Take care okay?” He said, and you nodded, but he was already disappearing up the steps into the general store.

You nodded to yourself, and unlocked your shop and stood inside.

Then you took a deep breath.

And got to work.

By the time 8:30 came around, your nerves had calmed, and your nose was filled with a far more pleasant smell of muffins, and tarts and sourdough.

You brushed off your hands, and bundled up the deliveries for that day, then quickly locked the shop up and left for mass. As you walked, you found yourself ever so slightly reluctant. Nervous like your first day of school.

It wasn’t until you heard the sound of Leeza and Annie behind you that you snapped out of a daze that had settled over you.

“Good morning, dear!” Annie called to you as you stopped and waited for them.

“Morning. You all survived the storm just fine?” You asked politely and began walking with them.

“Oh we were fine. Just a breeze.” Annie said good-naturedly, “Sure was strange what with all those cats this morning though hey? Heard Dolly saying they’re still trying to work out what happened.” She said a little hushed.

You nodded, “I know…the Sheriff and I found them this morning…scared me half to death…”

“They’ll figure it out I’m sure.” Annie dismissed the conversation; you could tell she was worried. She always worried.

Not wanting that to be the last conversational subject between your little group, you changed the subject.

“Anything exciting happening at school today?” You asked Leeza.

She shook her head, “Nah…but I think we’re starting on this project that I’m excited about…” the girl began on a tangent regarding her science project. It was nice to listen to someone prattle on about something that would be insignificant in a few years…it was somehow refreshing. Somehow you felt like an older sister to Leeza, and having her confide in you so honestly about mundane things made your heart swell.

The three of you entered the church, and just as always, you sat in your usual spot in the middle, across from Leeza and Annie. And you waited.

“Our processional hymn this morning is number 400 in the red hymnal. “Holy, Holy, Holy.” Please rise. “ came the voice of Father Hill from the door of the church.

A shiver made you twitch, and you blamed a draft in the church. You stood just as you always did; not needing the hymnbook but still holding it out of habit.

You sang, and kept your eyes trained on the text as the Father passed, his hands pressed in prayer as he walked up to the pulpit and continued his routine. You could feel the heavy presence of Bev Keene permeating the air, and you subconsciously ground your teeth. You knew if she had her heart in the right place, she could be a magnetic, beloved member of any community.

But sadly she didn’t have a heart to have it in the right place to begin with. Soot and malice was what sat beneath that gold cross she wore.

“Before he was given up to death, a death he freely accepted, he took bread and gave you thanks…”

Your eyes glazed over at you listened to that voice of his. Not that you weren’t hearing his words, or the message behind them; you were paying attention. But just like being read a story by your mother at bedtime versus a babysitter you had only just met, there was a certain comfort to be found in the former. Yet somehow, where Father Hill ought to have been less comforting, he brought great solace to his homily. It felt as if he was the one you were so used to listening to. Somehow he had eased himself into the Monsignor’s shoes seamlessly and had begun to preach his own gospel that melded with the tone you had become accustomed to since childhood and lulled you into a safe haven of worship.

“…He broke the bread, gave it to his disciples, and said…”

There was an effortlessness in his sermon. You wondered if he had started preaching very young.

With only 4 islanders in the church to worship, Father Hill stepped down from the pulpit and began offering the Body and blood of Christ to each. He saved you for last, you noticed, and for good reason as he retrieved your smaller cup and returned to you. You cupped your hands in front of you, and waited dutifully.

“Body of Christ, y/n.” Came that gentle voice of his like he cared deeply that you accept the blessing.

His long fingers graced the pads of yours so slightly as he placed the wafer on your fingers, and you failed to hide the hitch of your breath as you murmured “Amen.”

Then as he held your small cup for you to drink from, you failed to see how his gaze caught the sight of your pink tongue peaking out just over your teeth as you went to drink. John didn’t know why he noticed that; he supposed he noticed many small details now. Seeing your tongue now must have reminded him of any smaller animal with its mouth open- a small rabbit, a mouse, a cat, a-

A lamb.

The juice tasted strange that morning and somehow thicker than usual. You wondered if it was just in your head after being so shaken from the cats…

Annie took it upon herself to walk Leeza to school that morning, which left you to exit the church alone. On a day like that with the sun shining, you found coming out of the house of God almost ethereal. The light poured in through the single-paned windows and illuminated the dust particles that drifted so gently.

Once you stepped outside, the fresh air filled your lungs and you let yourself smile easily up at Father Paul as he stood patiently.

“Good morning, Father Hill.” You said, craning your neck to look up at the man.

“The beating heart herself!” He smiled, reiterating Annie’s analogy of you.

A good memory.

And a good sense of humour.

The warming of your cheeks was obvious , and John felt a little tug in his chest at the sight of it. Little flower pedals colouring your cheeks.

“She- I’m…”you tried to find a way to humble the dramatic compliment, but failed, “I hope you made it through the storm alright, Father. One hell of a welcome.” You said, trying to redirect the conversation, and to your mercy, Father Hill went along with it.

He nodded.

“It was quite nice actually. Being plunged into darkness almost feels like a renewal of some kind.” He said thoughtfully as his mouth seemed to threaten to tug into a smile.

“Quite sobering.” You agreed, “I’m glad it didn’t chase you off. Don’t know how many times I’ve seen someone buy a summer home here then flee the moment they have to endure a storm.” It was true. A little funny too.

The Father chuckled and nodded, “A fearsome thing to behold, but still a reminder of our creator…the power or lord holds, whipping storms against our rocks and shores just to knock on our doors and say hello. Almost reassuring.” He rambled a little.

You tilted your head, “That’s a very thoughtful way to look at it. Certainly more poetic than what you’ll hear from most of the locals.”

“And what would they say?” He shot back playfully.

You breathed out a laugh.

“One too many curse words for my liking, Father. And a couple confusing analogies.” You said.

Father Hill chuckled and somehow you half expected him to pat your head and tell you to run along. The Monsignor used to when you were a child so it wouldn’t be entirely foreign.

“Well we all have our ways of dealing with hardship-“

“Ah you’re still here, y/n!”

During your conversation you hadn’t noticed how the two of you had come to shift closer to one another; but when that cutting voice of Bev Keen startled you, you took an instinctive step away from the man with whom you had been speaking.

You forced a polite smile, “I am. Just asking how Father Paul made it through the storm-“

“The rectory has always been just fine.” She shot at you with a tight smile as if trying to end your time there quickly.

John could see your lips pull down so slightly into a tiny frown when Bev cut you off; he felt a flicker of irritation. Odd.

You recovered, acting like she didn’t mean any harm. “I’m sure it has. But just because a place is safe doesn’t remove fear. The Father here seemed to have handled it just fine though like you said… “In the storms, winds and waves, He whispers “fearnot” for I am with you.”.” You smiled up at the Father, and he returned it gently.

“Psalm 107:29…truer words could not exist for Crockett Island.” Father Paul said fondly to you; he had a way of speaking to those around him like there was a bubble around the two of you as you conversed. Like nothing else could take his attention from you.

You took in a breath and clasped your hands in front of you when you could feel the gaze of Bev scorching you, “Well thank you for a lovely service today Father, Bev…always a pleasure.” You said to both, but only made it several steps before Father Paul called after you.

“You’re always welcome here.” He said you name so gently. You noticed too that his tone was almost pleading…perhaps encouraging. Did he think you would stop your routine one day?

“I appreciate that Father Hill!” You smiled and waved as you turned to continue on your way; Paul’s lingering stare and Bevs look of distain following you as you went.

Your ear ached as a pull in you almost forced you to turn around and look back at St. Patrick’s again…but you didn’t. Somehow you felt it was in poor taste to do so. You had been startled by being watched once, and you were certain your nerves would not benefit from it again.

Instead, you hurried along, and made it down to the bakery quickly. You waved at a few locals who entered the general store and unlocked your door to grab your deliveries for that day. You always felt a pang of sadness when you looked at your list of houses and saw old customers crossed off; having passed or moved, but you supposed you ought to feel joyous for those who remained.

One by one you completed your deliveries. There were only 15 houses to visit, give or take a few from day to day. You treasured those houses.

You peddled up to one of the houses you frequented, and grabbed the order you needed. You almost bounced up the steps and knocked. It didn’t take long before the door was opening after the voice inside called that they were coming.

You were then met with a familiar face.

“Good to see you. Morning going alright?” Sarah Gunning was always a little direct, but kind. You supposed a good doctor ought to be both.

You nodded as you handed her the two loaves of bread and bundle of fruit cakes. “Not too bad…was a little shaken by the…uh…the cats this morning but nothing a sunny day like today can’t fix!” You assured her. “How’s your mother?”

Sarah nodded, “I heard…smelled it too. She’s alright, thank you y/n.” She took the package from you and gave you a tight smile.

“Good…see you soon.” You chirped, and began backing down the steps.

You turned around and strode out the front yard, but sighed when you noticed one of the straps that kept your goods in place at the back of your bike was loose. You knelt down and retied it. You supposed everything on this island was falling apart just a little.

When you straightened, however, you gasped and nearly toppled over. “F-Father Hill! I’m so sorry-“

The man stepped back a little.

“Im sorry I didn’t mean to sneak up on you.” He put his hand up to show he meant no harm, face apologetic.

“No…no that was on me, I’ve been a little in my head lately.” You said, having a hard time meeting his gaze.

“We all can be a little distracted.” He said. A slightly awkward silence fell between you, but it was he who broke it. “You know the Gunnings well?” He asked, and nodded to the house behind you.

You followed his gaze and nodded, “Not terribly, but I remember seeing Mrs. Gunning in church when I was a kid…I just deliver to them now. Mrs.Gunning’s health hasn’t been the best for years and her daughter Sarah cares for her…I just try to help out where I can.” You smiled.

There was something nagging at you though. Something odd. Of course you hadn’t fully realized that this stranger already knew who lived there; you were so used to everyone knowing everyone.

You did notice how the man before you shifted when you mentioned Sarah’s mother. He seemed almost a little more compelled to listen.

“That- that’s kind of you.” He stumbled a little over his words, “Giving to those in need that’s very selfless…a trait that can be hard to come by though we all possess it.” Father Hill forced a smile that crinkled the sides of his eyes.

“We all have traits in us that we can chose to embrace or not. Good and bad, Father.”

His smile turned a little more genuine then. “Ah yes, the never ending duality of man.”

“ “Everyone who does evil hates the light, and will not come into the light for fear that their deeds will be exposed.” John 3:20.” You quoted a little absentmindedly as you saw Beverly pass by on the main road. The distraction kept you from seeing how the man towering over you had his eyes go wide, and looked away for a moment.

You both stood there for a moment, then you ducked your head a little and pulled your bike towards yourself. “Well Father, I’ll leave you to it.”

Father Hill nodded, and pursed his lips ever so slightly, “Good to see you…”

You slowly walked past him and back to the road, but stopped when he muttered something that you wondered if he meant for you to hear.

“Thank you.” He said.

You looked back at him, brows pitched in confusion.

“For…taking- taking care of everyone.” He ended his sentence a little weakly, and you tilted your head a little to the side. An odd man.

“It’s my pleasure.” You decided on. It seemed to be what Father Hill wanted or needed to hear, and you both parted ways.

You paused at Main Street, and turned to look up at the Father as he ascended the stairs to the Gunning house. This time, it was his turn to glance back at you as you watched him. You waved and smiled, and didn’t wait for his response before you were pedalling away.

John had been standing just out of view of Sarah when he had said goodbye to Leeza, and saw you knock on Mildred’s front door. He stayed there, enjoying how much life you held inside you. Youthful and magnetic. Of course the ease in staring at you had nothing to do with the fact that your dress swayed around your legs and picked up so slightly in the wind.

He watched how startled you were by him when he approached you…so cautious yet so trusting. A lamb weary of wolves just looking for her Shepard.

I will be your Shepard sweet lamb…let me. Bend for me…for God.

Then that quote…oh you were no mere lost soul. No you were thoughtful. John felt excitement fill him at the thought of how you would benefit from his gift. He would be lying if he said you saying his true name didn’t startle him. A coincidence, of course.

Then when he turned back and saw you already watching him. Then that peak of your thigh when you hopped onto your bike…John was…

John was distracted.

An ideal lamb to guide yet so concerning. Not a blind lamb…no you were good. You were caring, and strong. Hopeful…hopeful like a man overboard who knew he had to weather swell after swell of water but kept treading water because he knew he was strong enough despite his muscles wanting to give out.

Instead of staying afloat like that man, John lost his breath.

Then he gasped in the salty sea water and breathed you in. Gulped you down his throat like a greedy boy to nourish his body and fill his lungs.

The next morning was thankfully an uneventful one.

Hassan and Wade had managed to get the dead cats cleaned up by the evening of the day before, and you weren’t sure when the last time was that you were so happy to have nothing happen.

Until that evening.

You were fairly proud of your abilities to make delicious confectioneries for Crockett island, and as you stared down your journal of recipes that sat in your lap, you pondered which to chose for the approaching Crock-potluck. You knew there would be a great deal of food already there, but you also knew that something freshly made for desert changed an atmosphere fast.

You were just looking through your various cookie and sweet bread recipes when a knock on your door made you jump. It was rare that you had visitors, especially at this hour. Certainly Erin had come by numerous times for slow walks around the island in the evening from time to time, and then Annie sometimes ran down to your house if she needed an ingredient…but somehow you felt that the person knocking was neither.

It was soft and timid.

You uncurled yourself from your nest of blankets on the couch, and strode to your door, then opened it with a pleasant smile on your face. It faltered only a little once you saw who was standing there.

“I- I uh…I’m sorry for this intrusion so late but I have a favour to ask of you if I may.” Came that low rumble of the man’s voice as he stood in the dim light of your porch.

You blinked, “What can I do for you Father?”

Father Hill shifted a little- an awkward smile on his face as he looked to the side as he stalled.

“This is my first uh- Crockett Po- crock-“ he stumbled a little and you smiled.

“Crock-potluck.” You corrected him.

He laughed a little, “Yes. And I wanted to have something to bring. Something my mother ingrained in me as a boy and well I was hoping if…if you could lend a helping hand so to speak.”

You bit at your cheek to keep from smiling too wide at his request. Here was this man likely twice your age, taller than most trees, fumbling with his words when he preached for a living. He was endearing.

“Well Father…it is getting late.” You started, and his face instantly turned to that of a kicked puppy.

His eyes softened, and the corners of his mouth tugged down so slightly.

“Oh- of- of course how silly-“

“-and I was going to make something for the potluck anyways…so having an extra pair of hands would be a godsend.” You finished.

John chuckled and stared you in the eye when your nose scrunched up so slightly at your tease.

Funny girl.

“Come in, please…make yourself at home.” You ushered him in. You were thankful that Bev didn’t live near you lest she see her dear Father Hill enter the home of a young woman alone.

Of course, John knew that you were indeed preparing to make something. Just like most islanders, you kept your drapes open even at night, and while he had just meant to take an evening stroll and check in on you- his dear lamb- John had found himself standing just outside your window watching you for well past a half hour. You flicked through that book of yours that John remembered seeing on your counter just two days ago when you had tested a recipe from it. You hadn’t seen him that night either. So domestic and sweet in your own space…

It was only when he snapped out of his trance-like state that he felt a little perverse in his current situation and told himself that he must have a reason for being there so long.

Thus the need to make something for the potluck.

John Pruitt had never made something for the potluck.

But he would not just leave your house that night after watching you through your window.

No. No he had a purpose for being there.

Of course he did. Why else would God have guided him there on his walk?

It wasn’t as if he was subconsciously drawn to your little home.

A moth to a flame.

You watched the older man remove his boots, and unzip his grey hoodie, and remove it to fold it neatly onto your couch. He looked so domestic and human.

“We’re going to make a cult classic, Father…I hope that’s alright. Safer for large numbers.” You explained as you flipped to your browned butter chocolate chip recipe. You slowly walked into your kitchen as you reviewed what you needed, and Father Hill trailed after you.

“This might take a couple hour- oh!” You started to say, but jumped when you turned around and bumped right into his chest.

He chuckled, “I think I might need a bell on me…I’m afraid I have a talent for startling people lately.”

You waved it off, “It’s just me…I’m just- I…” you sighed and looked up at the man as he waited patiently for your explanation, “Can I…can I be completely honest with you, Father Hill?” You asked a little timidly.

He nodded- open and calm, “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

You sucked in a breath, “You’re…well you’re a new presence here on the island…a welcomed one! But because you’re new…you startle a lot of us because we’re simply not…used to you. We’ll get there but in the time being…I think that’s why. I’m- we…we’re glad you’re here.” You stumbled and then when he smiled softly at you you suddenly worried that you had offended him, “I’m…I’m sorry I don’t think that came out right…”

“No no please…it makes perfect sense given how isolated the island is…I take no offence.” He said good-naturedly and waved his hand.

You sighed, and looked down, “Alright well…let’s get started. You might want to roll your sleeves up though it can get messy, Father.” You perked up as you changed the subject, and began to walk to your counter where you had already taken out a mixing bowl and, whisk and measuring cup.

“I am at your disposal, young lady.” Father Paul came to brace himself against the counter edge beside you, looking down at you thoughtfully.

You felt a blush rise to your cheeks, but kept your head down enough for him to not see, “Can you get me the butter from the fridge? Should be on the door.” You asked, and pulled out a small saucepan.

He nodded, and retrieved the butter for you. As he looked for it, you glanced over at him, and found your eyes drawn to his exposed forearms from him rolling up his sleeves. You looked away almost instantly, embarrassed for having been looking at your priest like that.

“You know this is the first time I’ve done this. Gotta admit it’s a bit exciting.” He said as he popped the butter beside you on the counter proudly.

“Baking is always fun…especially when things turn out yummy.” You smiled and put two large cups of butter in the heated pan. It started to sizzle. “We brown the butter to give the cookies a sort of nutty flavour…makes it a little tastier even if they’re just chocolate chip cookies.” You explained. He watched over your shoulder, enrapt.

“Did you always want to do this?” He asked you.

You blinked, “The- the cookies-?”

“No.” He laughed, “No, being a baker.”

“Oh. Well…not exactly. I grew up here and when you grow up in Crockett you have a lot of time to think…sometimes too much. I guess I knew I would end up doing something here and when I got older I got into baking and in my spare time I got really good at it…took years but before I knew it I was graduating and had a pretty fortuitous hobby. It was actually Dr. Gunning who suggested it.”

“Sarah?” Came his voice behind you.

“Yeah, Sarah was in the general store when I was there to get some milk and we got to talking…I had made her mom a few loaves of bread that she used to like and Sarah said I should make something out of my skill. And here I am!” You laughed, and stirred the butter as it browned and thinned.

“Wonderful…” he said softly.

You nodded, “She’s a nice lady. You’ll get used to her- just a little direct. Think it comes with being a doctor.” There was a moment of silence between you; only filled with the bubbling of the butter, “Alright, can you go into the freezer and pull out the flour, and measure out 3 cups of it into the bowl there?” You asked the man behind you.

“I certainly can.” He confirmed.

“Oh! Can you get 4 eggs as well?” You asked quickly.

He hummed and looked through your fridge for what he needed, and placed everything by the bowl. The counter was so much lower for him that he almost had to hunker over with his height to work.

He looked so…normal. It was sweet. A little odd to see your pastor baking with you but it was nice. Somehow it made him feel more human than just a man who absolved your sins and blessed you every morning.

The two of you worked together, and you came to find that Father Hill was eager to learn. He was methodical and took his time to do things right. Listened. Before you knew it there was a massive bowl of cookie dough on the counter and your oven was full of baking sheets.

“Each sheet should only take about 15 minutes so this shouldn’t take more than another hour.” You said, “If- if you need to take off I can finish-“

“A good man does not abandon his task, not to worry.” His tone was stern but he was smiling. You returned it.

“Well…” you breathed as you looked around for something to do, “I can put some music on if you like? You’re welcome to look around.”

He nodded, and you went to find something to listen to, “This used to be my family’s house. I’m afraid I only have their old records…Hope that’s okay?”

“More than.” He called out to you as you went into the living room.

You flipped through a few envelopes, and settled on one from Jeff Buckley. It was mostly slow, and you could still talk if you wanted to. You set it up, and as the needle sat atop the vinyl, a calm song began.

“Who’s this little ray of sunshine?”

You turned and followed Father Paul’s voice. He was standing in front of a few picture frames hung on the wall that you kept from when your family lived there.

“That was me.” You laughed, “That was right before Easter I think…I was 5.” You said thoughtfully.

“You looked happy.” He smiled.

I was. You thought.

“I loved Easter. Mostly for the chocolate…” you both chuckled a little, “But…now it’s just the time of year that I like. Spring. Revival…blossoming of plants, birds chirping…everything just seems so much more alive. The world starts to hum with God’s greatness during Easter, I think.” You thought aloud, then looked up at Father Hill once you ended your musings.

He was already watching you; hanging onto every word.

He remembered how much you enjoyed Easter. “One more chocolate, Monsignor? Pleeease?” He could still hear that little voice.

“What do you think, Father?” You asked him.

“I have to agree.” He hummed. You noticed that his eyes were almost glassy-that same teary look you had noticed when you first met him. Like he may weep.

“I think Monsignor Pruitt was partial t-

DING!

You both jumped apart and looked behind you at the sound of your timer sounding.

Had it been 15 minutes already?

You both returned to the kitchen and you began removing the sheets of golden treats. “If you can put them on the cooling rack while I take them out that’ll help a lot, Father.” You smiled.

“They turned out so nicely.” He mused as he followed your orders, “I supposed I shouldn’t have expected anything less from you.”

You laughed a little, “It’s just trial and error until you figure out your best method.”

Modest girl.

John grinned at you from the corner of his eye while you placed the last hot sheet on the counter.

The two of you continued the routine until the last round was in the oven, and you were starting to feel more at ease with the man. Almost playful. He certainly was a young priest, and every bit a red blooded man; his humour was dry, and he smiled easily. His laugh was infectious, though you could tell he didn’t do it often. You supposed the church wasn’t exactly a place rich with humour.

The record had nearly finished after almost an hour of listening, and the two of you were leaning against the kitchen counter listening. You swayed gently to the music, but then perked up when a favourite of yours began to play.

“I love this song…” you muttered under your breath and turned your head in the direction of the living room.

John looked down at you in recognition of what you had said, but in the low light of your kitchen, and the softness in your face, he couldn’t help but be reminded of being young. Not just himself but the island. Back when the people who were not partners used to be children he had baptized. Back when there were dances in the old town hall that had since burned down decades ago.

You reminded him of…a better time.

An easier time.

You were so occupied in your little bubble, that it took you a moment to notice Father Paul coming in front of you with his hands out.

You looked down at his palms, then up at him, and he waited patiently. You slowly placed your hands in his, and he pulled you away from the counter and began to sway with you. So gentle, then he tentatively brought your hand up to his shoulder and he brought his other hand to your waist; guiding you through a little dance.

Neither of you said a word.

Not there was anything to say really.

Somehow the two of you just felt very…human.

Your neck hurt from looking up at his dark eyes, but you didn’t stop. He watched you just as closely as you moved slowly through the room in small circles.

“…You know I used to be alone before I knew you…and I’ve seen your flag on the marble arch, and love is not some victory march. It’s a cold and it’s a broken Hallelujah…”

The smell of baked cookies surrounded you, and you almost laughed at the absurdity of it all.

But in that moment, it didn’t feel absurd.

It felt like two kindred souls enjoying some shared time. Any obligations or expectations melted away as you felt the warmth from his hands meld into your tendons and heat your sinew. His fingers holding yours felt more akin to a cradle and his breath between you was like smelling your childhood.

Your heart ached.

Perhaps it was that no one had held you in years. Let alone danced with you.

Hugs and pats on the back were about the extent.

“…and it’s not a cry that you hear at night, it’s not someone whose seen the light, it’s a cold and it’s a broken Hallelujah…”

The two of you slowed until you came to a standstill in the kitchen, simply standing less than a foot from eachother. When the timer dinged this time, neither of you jumped away. The sound certainly brought you down to Earth, but somehow you only found yourself staring up at the man. You weren’t altogether confused, though you were curious and a little nervous.

Why had he done that?

Why did you do that?

You had felt so comfortable…like this was an old friend of yours who you had just seen again after years apart.

John gazed down at you…his mind rich with turmoil and deep contemplation. When he had taken your hands in his, it had been as if God had moved through him.

Compelling.

Like God had told him to embrace the good of the past, and remember what he was working towards. To restore exactly that.

After a few breaths, Father Hill released your hand, and you both quietly walked to the oven.

The last batch now sat on the cooling racks, and you sighed.

“I’ll pack these up and bring them by the rectory before service tomorrow, Father.” You broke the silence.

Father hill nodded, “Thank you my girl.” He said softly.

You nodded and looked down at your hands, “Thank you for your company.” Then looked back up at the man before you.

He tilted his head to you as if to tell you that you were welcome or that it was his pleasure.

He slowly unrolled his sleeves, and you picked his sweater up for him from the living room.

You almost felt bad to watch him go. It might have been nice to talk to him for a few hours more.

He finished tying his boots and graciously took the sweater from you, and slipped it on over his collared shirt.

“Goodnight, y/n.” He murmured as he opened your door.

“Goodnight, Father.” You whispered back.

He stayed a moment longer, and smiled gently at you, then he was gone.

You stood in your doorway, watching him go, and as he left your sight, you found yourself returning to your senses. A wave of embarrassment chilled you when you realised what you had just done. Yet somehow you didn’t feel entirely guilty. It had felt as if some kind of blanket had enveloped the two of you just like when he conversed with his flock after mass- a bubble around you.

You packed the treats away after cooling, and silently went to sleep. You didn’t let yourself dwell.

“It’s great to see so many of you here today. But I do have to ask, why not every Sunday? Christmas, Easter, I get that. But there’s also always an uptick around the start of Lent. Why is that? What’s so special about today? Ash Wednesday, beginning of Lent. It’s hardly a crowd-pleaser.The beginning of repentance, making amends for our sins. Sin. This darkness, this blackness that spilled into us. That darkness, we wear it on our forehead today. Just a smudge of it. Uh…A smudge of death, of ash, of sin for repentance. Because of where this is all actually heading, which is Easter. Rebirth, resurrection, eternal life. Life that rises again…” Father Paul stood before you at the pulpit, presence commanding as ever.

“Even out of blackness, love rises again. Even out of sin. And this island, it will rise again. Even out of disaster, rebirth, restoration, eternal life. Jesus sees you. Sees you, best of all, and he sees you true. Because, don’t forget, who did he seek out? Who did he turn to, to build his church?His apostles. Jesus’ first disciples, they were fishermen. One of his first miracles, right? The nets are empty, fishermen desperate. Jesus says, “Put out into deep water and let down your nets for a catch,” and when they pulled up those nets, a bounty of fish.” You could practically feel the worshipers buzz around you as their heart rates picked up, just like yours.

“He sees you. Oh, yes, he sees you, brothers and sisters, and he will resurrect this island, and he will again fill your nets. It’s great you’re here today, but please keep coming back. Those doors, they’re always open, as the gates are always open. You just bring yourself. God will do the rest. As Psalm 60 tells us, “God, You have rejected us, You have broken us down, You have been angry. Restore us again.” Do you know what psalms are? They’re songs.The word psalm from the Greek psalmoi. It means “music.” Songs of prayer. Songs of praise. That’s who we are. That’s who we must be. That’s what it means to have faith, that in the darkness, in the worst of it, in the absence of light and hope, we sing. “Restore us,” we sing to the sky. And He will, my friends. He will. That same hand that dealt you your hardship, that same hand will make you whole.”

A single tear fell from your eye. God works in mysterious ways, and you could almost feel God working through Father Hill that day. As if God truly was trying to tell you that he was there with you. And Father Hill spoke as if he knew something good was to come- as if God had shown him.

And you believed him.

As you stood, you could hear Annie trying to urge her son to accept the cross of ash, and you gave her a small reassuring smile when she filed in behind you.

“Y/n remember you are dust, and to dust you shall return.” The preacher murmured to you. Your face was bright that day, happy. John suppressed a smile.

“Amen.” You said quietly, flicking your eyes up to his. He stared down at you steadily, calm as ever.

“Bless you my child.” His was was low and serene.

It was a peaceful stroll down to potluck. You watched as birds started to flit in the trees and chirp; bees starting to buzz, the gentle sound of the shore. Rebirth.

You checked behind you every so often as you walked in case you saw Father Hill; you had brought the cookies to the rectory that morning before service, and when you had offered to help carry the three large containers after, the Father had declined.

You had insisted.

But he insisted harder.

It was wonderful to see the islanders enjoy the little festival. Sharing with each other and laughing. It didn’t happen often. It was as if everyone pushed off their exhaustion just to enjoy that day. Problems could wait until the next day.

You made your way through the locals that you knew well, and stopped a little longer with some. Annie stood with Ed, and you noticed them smiling; perhaps it might seem like a strange thing to notice, but you knew all about Ed’s troubled back, and how their marriage was a little exhausted…it made your heart glow a little to see them happy. Most everyone seemed happier if you were honest, and it wasn’t just that day.

Your legs began to ache after a half hour, and you took to the edge of the festival to sit. You liked this. Watching everyone around you.

“Mind if I join you?” You looked up to see Father Hill walking over to you, a cup of juice in hand.

“Please do.” You scooted over to give him a little more room.

He sat with a soft grunt.

“You did your hair different.”

You turned to him. And your lips parted in surprise, “Wha-“

“I’m sorry- I noticed during communion. Just came to mind.” He said a little awkwardly though no less sweet.

Your mouth fell open a little, “I did. First day of lent…I like to do a little extra for it.” You rambled.

John smiled at you.

You looked pretty.

Not that he could say that.

But you did.

“The crockpot luck…I hear it’s a yearly staple for the island.” Father Hill said to you as you both looked out over the festival.

You nodded, “Sure is…”

John turned to you then; your tone was a little more reserved. Like you weren’t saying all you wished to.

“You’re not a fan of it?” He asked curiously.

You thought for a moment. “Can I be-“

“Honest?” He cut you off. Echoing your words from the night before.

You smiled, “Yes.”

“Please do.”

“I-… Lent is supposed to be a time of fasting and repentance and prayer…I just…it seems strange to have a festival on Ash Wednesday.” You said quietly.

He nodded, “Perhaps a little unorthodox.”

“I think I’ve always found it just…a little odd. Our Monsignor was the one who came up with it, you know? Coined the name. I just…I can’t help but wonder if his theology was a little…uh…off.” You mused, looking down at your hands.

Father Hill regarded you for a moment, and nodded, but didn’t say anything.

“I know you didn’t know him…he was a nice man…but…he was- is just a man. Man has his faults.” You shrugged, then turned to the man beside you, “No offence, Father.”

He chuckled and sipped at his cup, “None taken. I appreciate your candour.”

You pursed your lips.

You weren’t usually so unguarded.

You shouldn’t have said that.

Why did you say that?

This was the second time you had inadvertently said something to insult him within 24 hours. You felt shame start to rise in the back of your throat.

“I don’t want you to worry about offending me, y/n. I’m a friend and an ear to listen…if ever you want to talk.” He said, staring out at the sea of people, then back at you.

You sighed and nodded, “Thank you, Father. You’re very kind.”

He smiled.

Then you remembered something, “Father?”

“Hm?”

You shifted a little awkwardly, “I want to first thank you for maintaining my uh…specialized sacrament, but I just wanted to ask- have you changed the juice?” You asked him.

He thought for a moment, “I don’t believe so. We just got a new shipment…I can check if it’s any different…why?”

“It…it’s just…it tastes very strange. Almost metallic. I don’t know how else to describe it.” You thought back to how the taste stayed in your mouth after only a sip.

John shifted in his seat. You knew. He would have to find another way of give you the gift.

“I’ll find another one to give you. Not to worry.” He said, and patted your hand.

“Thank you, Father.” You chose not to dwell on him touching you.

“Well, I should return to my flock…trying to get to know everyone.” He said, then pushed himself up off the bench.

You nodded. You knew he was only temporary, but it was kind of him to try and get to know the members of the community while he was there.

He was charming and approachable, it wouldn’t be hard for him.

“Of course, enjoy!” You called after him. He waved back at you, and you scrunched your face up as the sun hit your eyes.

You sighed to yourself and after an hour, you began to make another round of the park. The town had truly lucked out with such a beautiful day for such a special day. After such a nasty storm just a few days ago, it was surprising.

You watched at the sun started to lower in the sky. Things were starting to wind down, and some had began to return home-

“Pike!”

You whipped your head around in the direction of the scream. On the other end of the park, you could see a crowd forming. You knew Pike was Joe Collie’s dog, and by the sounds of it, there was nothing good happening. You knew he was old, and loud, but he wouldn’t hurt a fly. You hoped he hadn’t bitten someone.

You crossed the field in just a couple minutes, and when you came to stand in the crowd, you felt yourself grow lightheaded. Pike was laying in a puddle of foamy bile and blood- the light leaving his eyes. You could hear Joe accusing Bev, and saw Sarah knelt over the dog…it was horrible.

“Alright everyone…back up.” Hassan waved his arms to try and disperse the crowd. Everyone began to walk away, and you could feel a solemnness come over the islanders. Like somehow they had all been snapped out of a trance and remembered their troubles.

You pursed your lips, but ultimately backed up as well. You wanted to help, but you knew there was virtually nothing to do. Pike was dead.

You kept to yourself for another hour, the as the afternoon dragged on, you started to collect the now-empty containers that had once held the cookies.

“Thanks for that, y/n.”

You looked over at Wade who was taking one last helping of…something brownish. A casserole of some kind.

You smiled, “Oh it was no problem. It was actually a group effort between the Father and I!”

His brows shot up, “Really?”

“Yeah he wanted to bring something. Wasn’t that nice of him?” You picked the empty containers up.

“Yeah…he- he seems like a real nice fella.” He mused, moustache twitching.

You nodded, “This was great, Mr. Mayor. See you Friday?”

He chuckled- you knew he was just fine with Wade, but you also knew he liked when people used his title- made him feel important. And you did your best to remind each person of their importance when you could.

“See you Friday, sweetheart.” He conceded.

You waved him off, then began your way back home.

John stood on the edge of the park watching you go. He had initially taken the spot to gaze at Sarah, but his gaze had been drawn when you were speaking with the mayor.

They really did love you.

And he understood why.

He watched you disappear down the road, dress fluttering in the wind.

•••••••••••••••••••

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