#Congregation of the Sons of the Holy Family

[thepastisalreadywritten]

SAINT OF THE DAY (December 17)

St. Jose Manyanet y Vives was born on 7 January 1883 in Catalonia, Spain.

At the age of five, José’s mother dedicated him to the Virgin Mary and later entered the seminary while still a youth.

He was ordained in 1859 and served as the secretary of the bishop of Urgell, the seminary librarian and the chancery administrator, before responding to the call to found two religious congregations.

He founded the Congregation of the Sons of the Holy Family in 1864 and the Missionary Daughters of the Holy Family of Nazareth 10 years later, both dedicated to the education and protection of the Christian family, as well as education and parish ministry.

He also founded several schools and centers, encouraged devotion to the Holy Family, and wrote many books on issues surrounding the family and spiritual guidance.

Also, in the cultural ambit, he worked for the construction of the Servant of God Antonio Gaudí’s masterpiece, the Temple of the Holy Family, in Barcelona, Spain.

He suffered from physical illnesses all his life, particularly due to two open wounds in his sides for the last 16 years of his life. He died on 17 December 1901 in Spain.

He was beatified on 25 November 1984 and canonized on 16 May 2004 by Pope John Paul II.

NOTE:

"Servant of God" is a title used in the Catholic Church to indicate that an individual is on the first step toward possible canonization as a saint.

[dollyyun]

𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥'𝐬 𝐤𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬' 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐲 | 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐

SYNOPSIS: Jake Sim has got to be more bearable compared to the others. Unlike the rest of his frat members, Jake is friendlier, making him an approachable figure. You recall when you got lost in the campus building during your second week of college in your first year, but Jake found you wandering like a lost puppy and was kind enough to guide you to the place you needed to go. Even after three years, his kindness is engraved in your mind. So, when Jake approaches you, you have little reason to suspect that he has an ill-intention towards you, especially when you have completely fallen for his trap. How can you not? With that charming grin on his handsome countenance and how he makes you comfortable enough to be yourself around him. It’s so easy to be with Jake. Little do you know that he is every bit corruptive like the rest of the knights.

PAIRING: jake sim x fem!reader

GENRE: 18+ (mdni), college au, semi-adulthood, reverse harem, dark themes.

WORD COUNT: 28.3k

WARNINGS: mentions of christianity, mentions of smoking, virgin & fat shaming, mild bullying, sexual assault, humiliation, profanities, stalker & pervert jake, obsession, corruption, violence, yandere, blood, murder, mention of mental illness, toxicity, slight angst, crying, heartbreak, masturbation, loss of virginity, smut.

PLAYLIST: Often - The Weeknd, Under the Influence - Chris Brown, Meddle About - Chase Atlantic, Church - Chase Atlantic, RUNRUNRUN - Dutch Melrose, Scream - Usher, Lost in the Fire - Gesaffelstein & The Weeknd, Sinners - Ari Abdul, Cold - Maroon 5.

PREV (PART 1) | NEXT (PART 3.1) ✘ SERIES MASTERLIST ✘

✧*̥˚ JAKE'S MOODBOARD *̥˚✧

-smut warnings under cut-

smut warnings: unprotected sex (no!), softdom!jake (a lil rough too), ghostface!jake, knife play, grinding, fingering, pussy eating, cum eating, thighs slapping (jake is obsessed with your thighs), manhandling, overstimulation, multiple orgasms.

The smirk tugging at the corner of his plump pink lips adorns his appealing visage as well as his dark gaze, beguiling for anyone to heed his command at a single glance without hesitation and enthralling the sisters who are sauntering in his vicinity.

He initiates an enticing wink at the two of them, whose cheeks are emblazoned with pink as they release giggles before one of them composes herself quickly and grabs the other sister with her to walk in haste, leaving him smug at the fact that he still has an effect on ladies. Not even the holy sisters can escape from his allure. This has already been proven in the past, where he seduced two holy sisters and managed to score points when he fucked them on this very sacred ground.

Of course, they were caught engaging in illicit activity by the higher authorities of the church, resulting in the two holy sisters' dismissal from their duties and the church. But did this affect him? Not in the slightest, considering he is the son of both a diplomat and a congregant of this very church. Just like his three best friends, he can get away with anything without having to face any repercussions.

Even if his actions do earn disapproval from others, no one dares meddle in any affairs pertaining to Jake Sim.

His eyes dart around the interior of the divine building, his lips curling into a sneer. Oh, how he hates the church. Just like the rest of his family members, he is a Christian as well, and unlike them, he hates being one.

But once upon a time, he loved and used to take pride in his religion. Whenever his mother, who was a regular member of the church and still is, wanted to go to church, he would tag along with her keenly. He knew and memorised every verse of the Bible and hymns to the heart.

As a matter of fact, he used to be a good and obedient son who often steered clear of trouble or anything that might displease his parents. He even earned the moniker ‘church boy’ given by his peers, and he took pride in it. He can’t deny the fact that he sees you in him, as he was the exact person you are.

However, it all crumbled when he and his family flew over to Australia on that long summer break when he was thirteen. Maybe it was because he affiliated himself with the wrong company behind his parents’ backs, or maybe it was because he had witnessed his father’s first infidelity, in which his father was fucking some woman who eventually turned out to be his own secretary. What made it worse was the fact that it happened in a church.

Jake knew that his father had committed a sin, and naturally, Jake expected his father to make a confession and ask for forgiveness, but he didn’t expect that his father would continue to commit the same sin over and over.

From then on, Jake didn’t see his father like he used to. His hatred for his father runs so deep that the sight of his face simply enrages him. He hates it even more because his father is a pathological liar and remains a cheater without his mother knowing about his infidelity. His father’s infidelity plays a major part in the reason why he doesn’t have faith in religion anymore. 

A sigh leaves him. Just as boredom nearly strikes Jake, his eyes catch the movement of two figures from afar before they zero in on the familiar face who has ignited a newfound desire within him since last night. Dark interest gleams in his eyes as he scans your overall fit. 

Jake can’t deny that there is a tinge of disappointment in him when he sees that your curves cannot be discerned due to the thickness of your black coat that hugs your body as well as your wide black pants. He recalls how you looked truly exquisite in that skimpy skimpy dress that accentuated contours impeccably, and how he got hard for you twice in one night.

Truth be told, Jake doesn’t mind the slightest when a girl chooses to dress modestly or how a girl chooses to dress in general. What matters to him is that he can get them to strip off their clothes and bare naked for him before he gives them the best fucks of their lives. Even if the girl is either too thick or too thin, it doesn’t matter to him, as long as he can dick it into their holes. 

His eyes trail down to your clothed chest as he tucks the bottom of his lips between his teeth. The sight of your lustrous cleavage flashes in his mind vividly, and he can already imagine how plump your breasts are. His cock starts to harden as he fantasises about leaving his marks on your porcelain skin all over your chest while his hands grope and feel the suppleness of your breasts.

Jake shakes his head lightly at the thought and attempts to ignore his hardness before returning his gaze to your face, where there is a smile on your lips while your cheeks are deepened with dimples as you are conversing with the priest.

Jake finds himself lifting a subtle smile from his lips upon seeing your smile. Throughout the university years he has known you, he has always found you adorable. Pretty? Maybe, but you were definitely adorable. Which was also the reason why he didn’t find you enticing. Plus, you often steered clear of any signs of trouble, so he also found you dull.

Jake usually targets women who can most likely match his vigour both in and out of the bedroom, women who are adventurous and perpetually up for a challenge, and who are intrinsically spontaneous and carefree. Those are his kind of women, and they are the ones who are capable of turning him on. 

You are most definitely not his type of woman. Unlike those women who have associated with him in the past, you are not anything like them. You are known as Crestview Meadow’s good girl, the epitome of a perfect student whose GPA is worthy of being envious of, and the kind of student that every professor prefers to teach.

Above all, you are the embodiment of purity ─ not just in the way you carry yourself with grace and dignity everywhere you go, but because there is an ambience you exude that anyone can immediately discern the rarity of goodness within you.

But the fact that you’re good makes you dull and boring, especially when you are constantly surrounded by those friends of yours who are the renowned it girls of the university. It is absurd to him that your friends seem to be protecting you from anyone outside of their inner circle and any cruelty, almost as if they are infantilizing you.

No matter. He will get what he wants, even if he has to ruin what you have with your friends. A smirk tugs at his lips as he proceeds to saunter towards you with his hands tucked in his pocket pants. If only you knew how hypocritical your so-called friends were.

The smirk on his lips drops when he sees the priest touch your shoulder, and his lips deepen into a frown at the close proximity between the two of you. A muscle pulses in his jaw while his footsteps hasten, wanting nothing more than to rip his hand away from your shoulder.

The idea of any man touching you ignites a newfound sensation in him, and he has never felt this way towards any woman ─ those same women whom he had slept with. He recalls vividly when he saw Namgil hovering over you with his hands all over you on Devil's Night, and that was when he saw red in his vision. No one gets to touch you unless it's him.

The sound of his footsteps disrupts the conversation you have been engaging with the priest, prompting you to cease, and your head turns to look at him with widening eyes, but Jake remains his gaze on the priest, and a cold smile touches his lips.

“Father, it’s been more than awhile.” Jake greets, the coldness emanating from him is discernible to you. His eyes dart at the priest’s hand that remains on your shoulder, and the familiar whisper of the devil is encouraging him to break his hand for daring to touch what is his.

“Jake, what a pleasant surprise!” The priest, however, is oblivious to the malicious intent glinting in Jake’s eyes. “How is your mother?”

“She’s doing well.” The lie easily rolls off his tongue. He hasn’t even been checking on his mother, not that she cares enough or whatsoever.

Jake shifts his gaze to you, who is staring at him with indecipherable sentiment glinting in your pretty eyes that nearly mesmerised him. He offers you a smile. “Y/N. I didn’t know you were a regular member of this church.”

Another lie. He knows everything about you, including that you used to visit this church whenever you had free time. He knows that you used to attend church in your neighbouring area regularly, and he knows that you live in a relatively small two-story house, which is rather homey compared to his family’s mansion. He knows your birth date, your favourite colour, and basically any sort of information he wants to find out about you. It took him a span of weeks, and that includes quasi-stalking you even now.

Jake admits that he has grown obsessed with you despite the fact that you are not his ideal type, even before Devil's Night, and there are moments where he fantasises about you even when he doesn't want to.

Jake is curious about you, and his curiosity was sparked long before Devil’s Night. He wants to learn and explore you ─ what makes you different from the others and why there is goodness in you—because he doesn’t believe that there is goodness in this corrupted world. So, he began the process of obtaining information from certain individuals and observing you keenly from afar. He was seamless at it, to the point where you didn’t even realise how often his eyes were on you.

Above all, Jake wants to experiment on you with the intention of dimming that light inside of you, wanting to intoxicate you in a way you won’t even see it coming.

His eyes briefly flicker down at the familiar ring on your forefinger that glimmers under the artificial lights above the ceiling. He knows that it’s not his for the taking, even though he will be the first to take you to his bed soon. 

His gaze returns to yours, and he watches as you blink your eyes, looking a tad surprised, as though you had expected him to disregard your existence. “I’m not. I visit whenever I’m available.” You tell him with an awkward smile gracing your pink lips. “Are you one as well?”

Your soft voice as well as your politeness are something he has always admired, and kindness is one of your qualities that has always remained constant even when others treat you unkindly.

Before he can answer, the priest beats him to it, “Jake is my good friend’s son, but I always refer to him as my nephew, as I knew him when he was young.” The priest gives Jake a warm smile.

A flicker of surprise passes by in your eyes. “Oh, I see. What a small world.” You say, smiling softly and darting your eyes back to Jake. “I’ll get going first. See you around on campus, Jake.”

“Of course.” Jake reciprocates your smile, to which your eyes flicker briefly at his lips that don’t go unnoticed by him, before you proceed to walk away while clutching the strap of your sling purse. 

A frown touches his lips when he notices how you limp as you advance forward, even though you look like you're trying your best not to give away the fact that you're limping.

Jake remains rooted to the ground, his eyes watching your figure get further until you disappear from his sight. 

“What did she come here for?” Jake inquires with the priest. There are no traces of warmth in his tone, while something dark shadows his features.

The priest flattens his lips before sighing. “You know that I can’t disclose any information─”

“Need I remind you that the reason this church remains standing is because of the funds my mother made?” Jake reminds him calmly, and yet his tone sounds sharp, cutting through the air like a knife. “I can easily withdraw those funds, and my mother wouldn’t bat an eye.”

The priest knows well that Jake has the power to do so, and so the elder acquiesces. “She came here to confess her sins.”

Jake raises a single eyebrow at him. “And what were her sins?”

Reluctance resides in the priest as well as the guilt that feels heavy in his heart, but he doesn’t wield enough power to defend himself against the affluent son of his good friend. “I think you have an inkling, son. Surely, you must’ve known she was there during Devil’s Night.”

“Maybe I do.” Jake unfurls a smirk at the priest before patting his shoulder. “Thank you for your service, Father.” The mockery Jake elicits doesn’t go unnoticed by the priest, but the elder smiles weakly in return.

Your phone buzzes as it vibrates on the table for the ninth time, and you don’t bother to spare a glance at your phone screen, knowing that it is either Yunjin, Wonyoung, or Karina. You haven’t been meeting them eye-to-eye since two days ago, and even if they asked you questions, you only gave them vague answers in a curt tone before fleeing your dorm in haste.

After what happened, you started seeing them in a different light. You can’t help but feel uncomfortable around them, and specifically, Yunjin. Although it has been three days since Devil’s Night, the overall events that transpired remain vivid in your mind, unable to erase them.

As for Kazuha, Winter, and the others, you remain amiable with them as usual, but you keep a safe distance between yourself and them, and even they notice your eccentric behaviour that differs from how you usually are. You need some time to collect your thoughts and deal with this internal conflict within yourself.

You did feel better and lighter, though, after confessing your sins to Father. You have been pardoned, and that’s what matters most. You don’t intend to revert to how you acted on Devil’s Night.

Speaking of Devil’s Night, despite the fact that it is over, Halloween isn’t. Hence, there are Halloween ornaments embellished on every part of the campus building. You got to give credit to the knight members, who were in charge of the decorations. Their budget seemed to be higher than last year’s, as evident from the overall decorations, and there are even knight members in spooky costumes strolling out and about while scaring off the students, eliciting screams from them.

Nevertheless, amidst the sombre atmosphere, the merriment, jovial laughter, and chatter from the students are palpable. It is abundantly clear that they genuinely enjoy Halloween, and that bothers you greatly because they don’t seem the slightest mournful over the deaths of twenty-two students ─ three students whom you recognise from your department.

You didn’t exactly know them in the way you know your friends, but still, you are sorrowful over their deaths. How cruel was it to be hunted and killed by those delinquents when they didn’t commit any wrongdoing? What did they do to deserve to die? Or was it all just pure entertainment for those notorious delinquents?

A shrill scream as well as laughter erupting from the other side, across from where you are seated, prompts you to look at the commotion briefly before returning to minding your own business with an eye roll. Just another bunch of students feigning feeling terrified of the knight members scaring them.

Your face twists into a grimace. There is definitely something fundamentally wrong with everyone here, you think. 

Presently, you are in the students’ lounging area that is situated between the two different buildings that belong to the students under the social science and science technological engineering departments. Usually, you would resort to the campus library to do your assignments or some reading, but today you felt compelled to do your work here for some reason, even though you dislike the boisterous commotion that often happens in the lounging area.

The commotion in the background eventually fades out. You continue to type away on your keyboard while your gaze remains on your laptop screen, getting immersed in finishing the final assignment that you have neglected since last week. The submission deadline is by the end of today, but the assignment is a piece of cake for you.

The tension in your shoulders relaxes as soon as you save the document to your file before opening a webpage on your Google Chrome with the intention of submitting your assignment to the school’s portal under your department.

As soon as you click submit, you jolt in your seat, and a shriek of terror emits from you when two students in ghostface masks emerge at your side, frightening you with sonorous ‘boos!’ while holding serrated knives in their gloved hands.

Another thing about this university that you deem absurd is the fact that they allow authentic weapons to be in students’ possessions for this period of Halloween, for as long as there are no casualties.

Your shriek draws the attention of students in your vicinity, causing your cheeks to flush in embarrassment. The unknown ghostfaces erupt into jeering laughter, clearly finding pure delight in frightening you greatly.

You glare at them in disbelief while you attempt to soothe your heart that is beating erratically against your chest, and for once, you want to lash out at them for their inane prank, but as they proceed to remove their ghostface masks, you smack your lips together shut, knowing better than to rebuke the knight members.

You recognise them. Matthew and Gyuvin from the social science department. Even though they’re your juniors by a year, they don’t really respect their seniors, let alone you. Besides, you’re deemed an easy target for most, and now that you’re alone without any of your friends by your side, it makes things easier for anyone to approach you with ill-intention.

“Did you see the horror on her face?” Matthew cackles, slapping Gyuvin’s shoulder. “That was comical!”

Gyuvin chuckles as he wipes an imaginary tear from the corner of his eye. “We should definitely scare her often.”

“That wasn’t funny.” You utter those words before you can even stop yourself. Your remark seems to capture their attention, and for some reason, you gain a newfound confidence in resolution. “In fact, scaring others for your own enjoyment is simply inconsiderate and lazy.”

“Lazy?” Gyuvin scoffs, rolling his eyes. He gives his fellow member a look. “Can you believe her?”

“Yes. Lazy.” You reiterate, glaring at them, but your voice remains soft all the while. “Also, you could’ve injured a student with how careless you were holding your knives─”

“What do you even know about pranks?” Matthew takes a threatening step towards you, resulting in you recoiling in prudence upon noticing the menace he exudes, as evident on his mien. “You know nothing about pranks. All you know is being a goody-two shoes and kissing professors’ asses.”

You hold back an offended gasp, but the distaste you have for them is evident in your eyes, which doesn’t go unnoticed by them. “And you wonder why everyone hates you. You might have a pretty face, but that doesn’t erase the fact that you are a fucking loser who doesn’t know how to have fun.” You refuse to allow Gyuvin’s demeaning words to get to you.

“Plus, she’s probably still a virgin.” Matthew cackles, high-fiving Gyuvin, while you wallow in humiliation. “That explains why she’s insufferable. No one wants to fuck a virgin, let alone a Catholic girl like her.”

Their remarks appear to have attracted the attention of the students in your vicinity, and just as you expected, chuckles and degradation emanate from them directed at you.

Despite their cruelty demoralising your high spirit while your cheeks flush in humiliation, you feel a newfound resentment towards them, with your hand forming into a fist at your side. There is no denying that you are indeed a virgin, but you feel proud of being one.

Besides, your mother used to emphasise how crucial it is for you to safeguard and embrace your chastity. Heeding your mother’s words, you cherish and protect your virginity for the one who is destined to be your soulmate. Hence, you were given a silver ring that latches around your forefinger on your seventeenth birthday, and the ring symbolises purity.

Of course, you took pride in it, subtly flaunting your purity ring everywhere you go, but now that their demeaning words have finally gotten to you, you can’t help wondering if being a virgin plays a major part in why no guys have approached you with the intention of getting you in their bed and additionally makes you unlikeable.

You lower your head, completely disheartened, and you want nothing more than to disappear from their sight while their jeering laughter continues to taunt you.

“Ah!”

A loud thud causes you to jolt in surprise with your head now raised, and the sight of Matthew’s face being side-planted on the surface of the table shocks you before your eyes trail to the person who has him pinned on the table with one hand on his back and the other on the table at the side of his head, locked by his strong grips.

The person you definitely don't expect to see. Jake Sim. 

You know that Jake would be strolling out and about around here since he is a computer science major, and you always come across his path. Most of the time, he would give you a brief smile before resuming to talk with his friends or even flirt with girls in the hallway.

By now, the students in your vicinity have quietened by his arrival . Jake’s presence alone is domineering enough to silence them.

“So this was what the two of you have been doing instead of resuming your respective duties.” Jake states calmly, but you are not oblivious to the way his jaw clenches while his deadly grips on Matthew elicit a yelp from the latter. “You were meant to bring fright upon your peers and not humiliate them, but here you are, lazing around.”

“We were! Really!” Gyuvin asserts, and you notice how apparent the nervousness is in his voice.

“H-He’s right!” Matthew stammers out as he makes an attempt to struggle in Jake’s grasps.

“First, you insulted and humiliated a lady. Now, you have the audacity to lie to my face?” Jake’s tongue hits the roof of his mouth, and the corner of his lips curves into a smirk that sends you shivers down your spine upon seeing how pissed-off he is, but you can’t deny that he looks oddly attractive. 

“As your house leader, I expected better from both of you.” Jake continues to speak calmly, but all the while, he has yet to release Matthew. You flinch lightly when Jake’s eyes meet yours briefly before he looks at his knight's members. “Apologise to her.”

“S-Sorry.” Matthew manages to utter, but even you can discern the insincerity in his tone.

With ease, Jake raises him just slightly before slamming him down on the surface of the table once more, eliciting a painful yelp from the latter. “Sorry who?” Jake nearly growls out his words, sending you another shiver.

In all honesty, you could care less about getting an apology from these jerks, but seeing Jake in this light genuinely shocks you. More importantly, why is he defending you in your honour?

“I’m sorry, Y/N! I won’t insult you again!” Matthew rambles out, the fear for his house leader is more than apparent, which brings a pleased smirk from the latter.

“Yes, we’re so sorry!” Gyuvin even bows to you, clutching his ghostface mask.

“The next time I catch you insulting and humiliating any lady, I won’t let it pass so easily.” Jake says sternly before finally releasing Matthew, who wastes no time retrieving his ghostface mask and his knife from the table, fleeing your table with Gyuvin.

“What are you guys looking at?” Jake’s sharp tone causes the students in your vicinity to look away from your table as they resort to minding their own business. 

When Jake’s gaze finally lands on your face, you catch the way his eyes soften and the scowl on his lips flatten. “I’m sorry about them. Are you okay?”

You blink your eyes, clearly taken aback by his duality. You ignore how your heart flutters just slightly at his soft voice as well as his gentle demeanour.

“I’m fine, Jake.” You tell him, your voice wavering subtly as you muster a small smile at him. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Of course, I had to.” Jake says, looking offended as though he were the one who had been humiliated instead of you. “I taught them better than to insult and humiliate a lady. Such conduct is unacceptable to the House of North.”

You can’t help but acquiesce and give him a smile that shoots a cupid arrow to his tainted heart, especially your dimples that he wants to poke his finger in. “Thank you.”

A smile is adorned on his face, and you hold back an endearing chuckle at how sheepish he looks, almost resembling a golden retriever puppy. “Anytime, Y/N.”

As the two of you continue to gaze at each other with sheepish smiles, familiar voices belonging to your best friends echo in the walls of your mind, reminding you of their warning to steer clear of the knights, specifically their leaders. But you ignore those warnings inside your head.

Sure, you have no intention to attract the attention of the other leaders, but this is Jake ─ the guy whose kindness has long since been embedded in your mind. You find it hard to dislike him, even though you are aware of his reputation on campus as a womaniser.

You recall when you got lost in the campus building during your second week of college in your first year three years ago, trying to find your way to the auditorium. That was when Jake found you wandering around like a lost puppy, and he was kind enough to guide you to the place you needed to go without hesitation and even engage in a short, pleasant conversation with you.

Yeah, the Jake you danced intimately with on Devil’s Night should have given you a reason to stay away from him, but you don’t have the heart to do that, especially when he had just defended you in your honour. Plus, to you at least, Jake is undoubtedly amiable, making him an approachable figure unlike the rest of his fraternity members.

Hence, you have decided to lower your guards around him, but then comes the awkwardness after the realisation that you have been gazing at him with a stupid smile on your face.

You break eye contact with him and scratch the back of your head awkwardly. “So, I guess I better get going─”

“Listen, I’ve been wanting to apologise to you.” Jake cuts you off, inviting himself to settle down across from you.

Confused, you stare at him with a single eyebrow arched. “Why are you apologising?”

Jake rubs his nape sheepishly. “For touching and kissing you without consent when we were dancing last Friday night.”

Just like that, a specific memory runs through your mind, and you recall the sensation of his touch that left you wanting more of him.

“It’s okay. I understand that we were tipsy and in the heat of the moment.” You tell him reassuringly, giving him a small smile. “I should be apologising as well for my improper behaviour.” 

Jake holds back a chuckle. Oh, how wrong you were. He was not the slightest tipsy, but he can’t let you know that.

“How was your first ever Devil’s Night?” He asks, striking up a conversation with you and hoping that it will continue on.

Truthfully, your voice sounds pleasant to hear. You’re soft-spoken, complementing your disposition, and whenever you converse with anyone who reciprocates your kindness and the ones who obviously like you, you try your best to maintain appropriate eye contact while listening attentively to them and giving your opinions or remarks if needed. That makes them want to continue speaking to you, and that’s what Jake feels about you. He can listen to you talking for hours, and he wouldn’t get sick of it.

On the other hand, you feel hesitant about whether or not you should answer his question with full honesty because, firstly, he’s one of the leaders, and he was obviously in charge of Devil’s Night. Secondly, you don’t want to offend him by letting him know that it was the worst night you ever had, and you never want to relive that night ever again.

But being a people-pleaser, you resort to giving him white lies as your lips curve into a small smile. “I had the time of my life. You guys were amazing and really outdid yourselves. I can definitely understand the hype behind Devil’s Night from most of the students here.”

You hope that Jake won’t detect your lies, but all the while, your stomach twists with something unpleasant as you speak those words. You even held yourself back from telling him that his fraternity and the rest of the students were downright mental for enjoying Devil’s Night.

Thankfully, Jake seems to believe your white lies and gives you a charming grin that sends another flutter to your beating heart. “I’m glad to hear that you enjoyed it.”

Little did you know that Jake knew you meant the opposite of what you said. After all, he had seen the genuine horror on your face and your vulnerability firsthand, considering he and his comrades were hunting you down.

As his eyes rake over your delicate features, he grins cunningly in the back of his mind. Oh, how he desires to see your pretty eyes glistening and tears streaming down your smooth cheeks as he inflicts horror upon you, resulting in you running away from him while he chases after you.

"So, what’s your favourite horror movie?” The interest gleaming in his brown eyes is one of the reasons why you want to continue the conversation with him, aside from the fact that he is practically staring at you like a puppy wanting a treat.

“I’m not a fan of horror movies, but I guess the Scream movie?” You answer unsurely, shrugging your shoulders. “My friends forced me to watch with them since they’re big fans.”

This time, Jake’s interest grows tenfold. He leans his body slightly forward while his lips are curved into a grin. “But did you like them?”

“Kind of?” You answer, and you feel warmth weaving across your cheeks at the intensity of his gaze on your face. Feeling conscious, your fingers make their ascent to the silver cross pendant resting delicately on your chest to fiddle with it. “I mean, the movie was definitely interesting, and I liked the plot, but surprisingly, I wasn’t scared. If anything, I felt grossed out by the amount of bloodshed.”

The way you scrunch your nose is so endearing to him that he itches to lean forward to peck the tip of your nose, but of course, he can only afford to fantasise as always.

“Sorry.” Your cheeks flush delicately in pink as awareness slaps you at how much of a yapper you suddenly become. “I must be rambling by now. You probably wouldn’t want to hear me talk so much.”

“Actually, I do.” A tinge of softness is in his eyes, as is the soft smile unfurling on his plump pink lips. “Has anyone ever told you how pleasant you sound?”

“No.” You answer, your face contorting into confusion, to which he finds you adorable, especially when you tilt your head slightly to one side. 

“Then let me be the first one to tell you. You sound really pleasant to hear.” His smile shoots cupid arrows into your heart. “I like listening to you talk, and if you could talk all day, I would be there by your side to listen to you.”

“Now you’re just flattering me.” You murmur, your eyes zeroing on his pretty lips, and you swear they look and feel soft. The very same lips touched your skin last Friday night.

“No, I’m not. I meant what I said.” His countenance shifts into something serious, almost knocking the breath out of you upon the dark glint in his eye. “If anyone says otherwise, then their hearing must be impaired.”

“Jake!” A familiar voice calls for Jake, which you recognise. You look at the side, spotting Sunghoon and Riki from across the building as they wave at Jake, beckoning him to come over.

You turn your head to face him. “Your friends are calling for you─”

Your breath hitches in your throat when he grabs your hand and holds it tenderly. Your heart flutters as you watch him raise your hand to plant a gentle kiss on your knuckles. The sensation of his soft, plump lips still lingers on your skin, even when he withdraws.

His thumb caresses the back of your hand, sending you tingles, while his brown eyes captivate you in a way that is impossible for you to look away from. “Before I go, can you promise me one thing?”

“What is it?” You ask in a murmur, getting lost in the depths of his eyes, which are swimming with sentiments you can’t decipher.

“If anyone messes with you, even the slightest, let me know, alright?”

A look of confusion furrows your brows. “But─”

“Promise me, love.” He cuts you off sternly, but the tinge of softness remains in his tone that compels you to nod your head, earning a small smile from him. “Good. I’ll see you around soon, yeah?” His low husk at the end sends a foreign sensation through you.

“Okay, Jaeyun.” You say softly without realising that you don’t mean to accidentally call him by his Korean name.

His eyebrow arches attractively at his Korean name, which feels heavenly from your mouth, but he doesn’t comment on it. Instead, he shoots you a smirk, sending one last flutter to your heart.

He rises from his seat and proceeds to leave the table, but not before winking at you. “Goodbye for now, sweet angel.” His smirk remains on his canvas before he turns around and saunters towards his friends.

Sweet angel.

Those two words instantly remind you of the masked men on Devil’s Night, and you begin to wonder if Jake was one of your predators on that night.

“No, he couldn’t be.” You mutter to yourself as you slowly close your laptop.

There is no way Jake could be any of those four masked men that preyed on you. The same charming Jake, whose duality never fails to impress you, simply couldn’t be any of them. Sure, he’s one of their leaders, but there is absolutely no way he was capable of being one of Kim Namgil’s murderers.

As you pack your belongings into your bag, you fail to notice the wicked glint in his heavenly brown-hued eyes earlier.

Your last class ended at six, but instead of heading straight back to your dorm, you went to the cafe down the street nearby the campus to do some reading and studying for your finals while indulging your cravings for the delectable pastries.

You didn’t want to head back to your dorm since you weren’t ready to face your best friends, and you really didn’t want to deal with them, especially after reading all of their texts in which they spammed you relentlessly and even tried calling you. You have a feeling that you’ll be barraged with questions demanding explanations for your abrupt detachment.

A part of you feels guilty for it, knowing that your best friends have always been there for you, even when the rest of their peers often question why they befriended someone who has no status, rank, or abundance of wealth like them.

A sigh leaves your lips as you shake your head lightly before pushing open the door, making your exit out of the cafe establishment. You glance down at your phone screen and notice that the time has struck eight p.m. You should be heading back now, but instead, you decide to take a nightly stroll to clear the remnants of the fog in your head.

The nightly breeze is in your hair with each step you take, ambling on the pavement while your surroundings are in a blur as you go into unfocused mode. Just then, your mind drifts off to Jake Sim.

The moment his face and his charming grin appear in your head, a soft smile unfurls on your pink lips. There is no denying that you do find him attractive and sometimes cute, but truth be told, his kindness was what made you have a crush on him three years ago.

Yes, you had a crush on him, but it only lasted for a while when you found out he was a womaniser. You recall the jealousy brimming in your veins whenever you saw him with different girls clinging to his arm every week. You knew that he wouldn’t bat an eye at you, especially after all the unpleasant words that were spoken about you and circulated on campus.

Most of the students dislike you not because you’re a good girl but because of your status rank and the fact that you do not hail from an affluent background. 

Approximately 96% of the students in Crestview Meadow’s hail from affluent families and are literally Chaebols who wield authority and power the same way as their parents’ do.

Crestview Meadows students are extremely privileged. Not only does the university provide a top-tier higher learning institution compared to any other universities across Sokor, but they also truly accommodate the students’ wants and needs.

For instance, there are massive, tall, and wide apartment complexes that are designed exclusively for students whose homes are far from the campus, also known as the dormitory. It is within a five-minute walk from the enormous, upscale campus. Undoubtedly, the cost of paying for the rent is higher and greater than that of a condominium, especially when there are amenities for the students.

Obviously, money is never an issue for most of the students enrolling at this university, considering the unfathomable wealth they wield. Some do take their wealth and high statuses for granted, but you, on the other hand, feel extremely grateful for not getting yourself into a heavy debt as you have earned numerous scholarships and the university recognises your effort in terms of academics. 

Hence, it is one of the reasons why you are driven and motivated to work hard and maintain your perfect GPA of 4.0.

The commotion of manly laughter shatters your moment of solitude, prompting you to look to the side just for your eyes to widen at the sight of a bunch of familiar faces. Your eyes briefly glance at the establishment before you finally notice that they have emerged from a bar.

You stand frozen, as though seeing them paralyses your whole being. Your eyes instantly meet Sunghoon’s, whose smile transitions to a sneer while a familiar sentiment glints in his eyes. Hatred.

“Y/N, hey!” Sunoo’s voice pulls you away from staring into Sunghoon’s dark eyes any longer. You are taken aback by the blond-haired male’s friendliness as he approaches you with a gleeful grin. You refuse to believe that this is the same guy who was part of Devil’s Night.

“What brings you here?” Sunoo asks, speaking to you in a way that makes you feel as though he is an old friend of yours. “Wait. Don’t tell me that you’re here to have a drink.” Sunoo feigned a shocked gasp. “What happened to the good girl Y/N we know and love?”

You can only afford to chuckle awkwardly, unsure of how to act, and all the while, their gazes on you render you conscious of the way you look.

A barrage of questions are on your mind, wondering if you look okay or ridiculous.

Your fashion sense has always been praised by your girls, and it also elevates your confidence. Your wardrobe mostly consists of either beige, white, black, or pink clothing. Some days you wear skirts that reach above your knees, while other days you wear pants. 

Today, you decided to wear a flared beige skirt and a white tee that is tucked in with a short beige jacket complementing your overall fit, as well as white thigh-high socks that conceal your skin. Your friends have made comments about your thigh-high socks being unnecessary since they want you to flaunt your smooth skin, but of course you refused.

Now, you can’t help but wonder what they think of you as they stare at you. Do they also think that you’re a ridiculous Catholic girl the way the others do?

“You’re scaring her, Sunoo.” Jungwon chides, shoving his shoulder against Sunoo’s. 

When your eyes meet Jungwon’s feline-like eyes, you are reminded of the night when he captured Wonyoung and his warning directed at you. You have an inkling that the hickeys on Wonyoung’s neck were his marks.

“Come on, we’re wasting time here.” Sunghoon grumbles as he walks past you, and you swear you can feel the coldness emanating from his body.

Riki disregards your existence as he heads for his bike, which is parked by the curb alongside the others’. Jungwon sends you a wink while Sunoo casts you another gleeful smile before they proceed on towards their bikes.

You manage to catch Heeseung’s fleeting gaze on your face, and when you turn your head fully to look at him, he is swift to avoid your gaze and advances towards his bike with a cool demeanour.

“Hey, angel.” Jay takes you by surprise by standing close to you, almost knocking the breath out of you with the combo of his strong cologne and cigarette smell emanating from him. As you glance up to meet his dark, lustrous gaze, he gives you his signature smirk that makes anyone fall for him.

“Missed me?” Jay asks you in a seductive lull as he raises his hand to brush the fallen strands from your face, but you back away from him immediately. “Come on, baby. You weren’t like this last Friday night when you danced with me.” He remarks with mockery that you narrow your eyes at.

Just as you are about to speak, Heeseung’s voice interrupts you, and for once, you are thankful to him. “Let’s go, Jay.”

“Always the one to ruin my fun, Heeseung.” Jay heaves a sigh and makes his way to his bike, but not before casting you another smirk that has a clear intent of suggestiveness. 

You watch as Riki, Sunoo, and Jungwon speed off ahead, followed by Sunghoon and Jay. Heeseung seems to be taking his time, and when his eyes meet yours, an indecipherable sentiment dances in his eyes before he pulls down the dark visor and proceeds to speed off with his engine blaring.

You sense his presence from behind you, and his figure is nearly looming over yours. His hot breath fans the shell of your earlobe before he greets you in a soft tone with that husky voice of his. “So we meet again, lovely.”

Your heart nearly lurches in your chest upon seeing how close he is to you, and you swear you can feel his body heat. As you turn around to face him, the smell of smoke fills your nostrils.

“I had no idea you smoked.” You point out politely, your lips pressing thinly. You actually hate the unpleasant smell of smoke.

The smile on Jake’s lips falters upon noticing the expression on your face. “Oh, no, I don’t smoke.” He tells you with the utmost sincerity. “It was theirs, but I swear I don’t smoke.” Even he has no idea why he is affirming with such earnestness.

You nod your head in understanding. Even if he does smoke, it isn’t in any of your business anyway.

“Where were you from?” Jake asks, tilting his head slightly to one side while curiosity sparkles in his eyes.

“I was from the cafe down the street and decided to take a nightly stroll.” You tell him. “What about you? Isn’t it unwise to drink on a school night?”

Jake’s smile curls into a grin as he takes a step forward. “Are you worried for me?”

Your eyebrows pull together. “Yeah, I mean, don’t you have classes tomorrow? Plus, you’re driving.”

“You’re so fucking adorable.” He whispers huskily while your eyes widen in shock at the sudden shift in his demeanour. His eyes meet yours with an indecipherable intensity. “Don’t worry about me, lovely. I drank a little, but I have a high alcohol tolerance.”

“If you say so.” You say before taking a step back. “Just drive safely, okay?”

“Ride with me.” He says so firmly that there is no room for objections.

Your eyes divert to his sleek black bike, and you begin to feel wary. “I don’t know….I’ve never rode a bike before, so I’m a little scared.”

“Don’t be.” Jake grabs your hand without any hesitation and gives it a tender squeeze while his soft, brown eyes are pulling you into him. “As long as you hold on tight to me, you’ll be fine. I’ll keep you safe.”

“Jake─”

“I need you to trust me, love.” Jake cuts you off firmly, but his grasp on you remains tender. “Trust me, yeah?” He whispers, and you can’t help but to nod your head.

The next thing you know, he is assisting you with his helmet while you stand in front of him, your eyes staring at his pink plump lips in awe upon the close-up.

“Does it feel too tight?” He asks you, causing you to look into his eyes.

You shake your head, but frown at the realisation. “What about you? It’s dangerous for you to be riding without a helmet.”

“Lovely, you should really stop worrying about me.” He chuckles breathily before guiding you to his bike, which you have trouble mounting due to how high it is.

You become startled when he places both hands on your waist to lift you with ease as you mount his bike. You struggle a little to balance yourself, and when he mounts his bike in front of you with ease, you latch your arms around his waist without any hesitation.

You feel his body visibly tensing before he relaxes and proceeds to switch on the ignition. You ignore the way your breasts are pressed against his back, and you hope he doesn’t mind it. 

“Hold on tight, lovely.” Jake reminds you once more over his shoulder before he takes you by surprise at the abrupt blare of his engine as he drives off.

You close your eyes while tightening your arms around him, your heart beating fast at the speed as the two of you ride against the vindictive wind. He is going at such an insane speed that you swear it is as though he is in a racing competition.

Finally, you dare yourself to flutter your eyes open, and when you do, you no longer feel the trepidation coursing through your veins. Your eyes sparkle with awe as you manage to catch glimpses of the gorgeous city lights. Although you no longer fear riding a bike, your arms remain tight around his waist.

But soon you realise that he is not heading in the direction of your dormitory. “Where are you taking me?” You raise your voice so he can hear you better over the wind.

“Somewhere.” His answer doesn’t satisfy you, yet you choose not to ask any more questions. But the smirk in his tone doesn’t go unnoticed by you. “Oh, and Y/N?”

“Yes?”

“Call me Jaeyun from now instead.”

The familiar sight of the golden gate opening automatically greets your sight before he accelerates forward, while you are rendered gobsmacked by the fact that Jake has brought you to the very place where Devil’s Night commenced.

When your eyes sweep over the magnificent palace, you shudder lightly as the events that transpired on that dreadful night play in your mind like a film. Soon, you find yourself entering a massive garage that is equivalent to the biggest living room in the palace, with different vehicle models arrayed impeccably, leaving you in awe.

“Careful.” Jake murmurs to you as he holds you against him at the moment you dismount, resulting in you nearly stumbling forward due to the imbalance and how your ankle throbs familiarly with subtle pain, but thankfully, it is healing rapidly.

“Sorry.” Your cheeks flush in embarrassment as he assists you by removing the helmet from your head and adjusting your tousled hair with a touch of gentleness.

“Thank you.” Your sincerity sends a foreign sensation through him while his eyes meet yours. Soon, a frown touches your lips. “But why exactly did you bring me here?”

“To have fun, of course.” He casts you a grin before beckoning you to follow him, and you do, allowing him to guide you to the door that leads into the palace while you take a brief glance at the garage once more.

“Fun?” You repeat it in incredulity.

His melodious chuckles ring through your head. “Fine. I brought you here because I wanted to hang out with you.” He tells you, and you detect sincerity in his tone. “Plus, I do enjoy your company.”

“If you wanted to hang out with me, you could’ve asked me tomorrow instead.”

“Well, the opportunity was there earlier, so I couldn’t miss it.” He gives you a side glance. “Besides, you looked like you needed something to ease your mind.”

Surprise flickers in your gaze. “I do, actually.”

“Then I’m your man for the night.” His breathy chuckles erupt the butterflies in your tummy. “So, what do you want to do?”

You open your mouth to speak, but an uproar comes from the second floor, prompting you to look up with bewildered eyes. “The others are here?” You ask him, and that is when you finally realise the familiar bikes in the garage earlier that belong to those delinquents.

“Yeah, but don’t mind them.” He says, rolling his eyes.

“Then you should join them instead. You don’t need me to keep you company.”

“But I'd rather be with you, lovely.” He murmurs, catching you off guard when he tugs at your wrist, pulling you closer to him with his hand making its ascent to cradle the cusp of your jaw.

Your breath catches in the back of your throat as his eyes zero in on yours, while each stroke from his thumb on your smooth cheek intensifies the butterflies in your tummy.

This time, you dismiss another commotion coming from above as you are busy getting mesmerised by his dark gaze that holds tumultuous sentiments, yet it seems to be luring you in, enticing you to explore the darkness within him.

“What do you want to do?” He asks softly, still not releasing you.

You ignore a small voice that is imploring you to push him away. “What do you have in mind?”

“Trust me. You wouldn’t want to know, lovely.” His lips curve into a smirk before he drops his hand from your cheek, but his fingers remain latched around your wrist as he pulls you with him. “I’m sure you haven’t had the chance to explore the palace, but first, I want to bring you to our private cinema.”

As Jake drags you with him, heading towards the elevator, your eyes widen as you feel astounded at the fact that this palace has its own cinema, and subsequently, you begin to wonder what else is there in this very palace. You definitely won’t be surprised if there are hidden passages somewhere here.

One thing is certain: you regret agreeing to watch Scream with him.

Your eyes are trained on the large screen, and your face contorts into a grimace when the victim’s blood is oozing from the terrible wound.

A wince leaves your lips while you find yourself instinctively burying your head into his shoulder with your fingers clutching at the hems of his top. You attempt to drown out the noise of the victim’s cries and pleas as well as the eerie sound effect that reverberates throughout the private cinema that is equivalent to the width of that of a public cinema. 

Jake turns his head to glance down at you. A chuckle emits from him as he finds you adorably endearing with how often you have attempted to use him as your shield whenever the gory parts of the movie play on the screen.

“I recall a certain someone telling me in confidence that she wasn’t afraid of watching the movie.” Jake drawls his words out, his lips remaining a smirk as you slowly raise your head to meet his eyes that hold such mischief.

In return, you can only afford to chuckle nervously. You can’t let him know that the reason you’re afraid is because your mind would always drift to the terrible events on Devil’s Night whenever the gory part of the movie came up. Moreover, your skin is crawling with disquietude the longer you’re in this very palace.

Yes, the palace looks magnificent, but you can discern the foreboding atmosphere that sends you involuntary chills every now and then. A part of you is telling you that the moment Jake brought you inside, you ought to be wary and apprehensive of your safety.

“Can we watch something else?” You murmur to him, still clinging to his arm, though not as awkwardly as you did earlier. You remain facing him, but your eyes are crestfallen with your head lowered, allowing the strands of your hair at the side to fall.

“Why? I’m quite enjoying this.” Jake continues to tease you while enjoying the fact that you are clinging to his arm dependently, with your breasts occasionally brushing against his arm.

You surprise yourself when a whine elicits from you and your pink lips form into a small pout as you meet his eyes that seem to be darkening. “Please, Jaeyun?”

His chest rumbles in pleasure at the sound of his name coming out of your mouth. “Fine.” He eventually concedes before reaching out for the controller at the side to put the movie on pause. “It turns out you are afraid of horror and thrillers after all.”

You narrow your eyes at his teasing grin, but you cave in as a sigh leaves your lips. “Yes. Now you can have another laugh at it.”

“Nah, I was just messing with you, lovely.” Jake leans forward to ruffle your hair while you are taken aback by the nonexistent space between the two of you. “Everyone has their own fears.”

“So what are your fears?” You inquire to him, feeling rather keen to know him better.

“I don’t have any.” Jake lies through his cheeky grin. “Tell me yours.”

A niggling of prudence tickles the back of your mind as if to warn you about telling him any parts of your vulnerability that he might potentially use against you. 

But as you get lost in the depths of his devastatingly beautiful brown eyes, you feel a certain compulsion to reveal everything about you, including your worries, to him.

“Genres of thriller and gore, insects,” You begin to list down, murmuring as you do so with your head lowered and your cheeks tinted pink at the fact that he has his full attention on you. “losing my loved ones, being a disappointment and failure to anyone I hold dear close to my heart.”

“You? A failure?” Jake grips your chin gently but firmly enough to force your eyes to meet his. “Lovely, you are the epitome of perfection.”

Your cheeks flare with diffidence, and even if you want to look away from him, you can’t. “I’m not perfect, Jake.”

“Yeah, you are,” Jake leans his face close to yours, causing your breath to hitch, but he stops just close enough until the tips of your noses graze ghostly against each other’s. Your heart flutters at the warmth of his touch from his palm on the side of your thigh, rubbing it tantalisingly slowly. “and wrong name, baby.”

In an instant, he has you hoisted and settles you on top of his lap with your legs straddling his muscular denim-clad thighs while your skirt is hiked up, allowing a teasing peek of your skin. Instinctively, your hands find their way to his shoulders, feeling how toned and broadened they are beneath your touch, which pays off as a result of his consistency in working out.

The cold air in the private cinema shifts drastically. The tension is palpable, and you fear it might snap at any moment in time, especially the way he is gazing at you dangerously with lidded eyes.

You are rendered speechless by the escalation, unable to form any coherent sentences. The heat of his touch on your thighs sends you involuntary shivers down your spine while his dark eyes are penetrating into yours, which are swimming with sentiments you recognise. Danger, desire, and lust.

“You’re so fucking adorable, do you know that?” The low husk in his voice stirs something within you. Your lips go slightly parted at the sensation of his palm rubbing your thigh once more. “Can you do me a favour, lovely?” Although he is asking you, you know that it is a demand.

Your mind is screaming at you to push him away and flee from him, but it is as though his touch and gaze cast a spell on you that renders you compliant.

With the inexplicable haze clouding your better judgement, you nod your head, and his lips curl into a smirk.

“I want to see you in fishnet tights. You’ll look good in them.” His eyes rake all over your body until they fall to your plush thighs. He desires to dig his nails into the suppleness of your flesh, but your thigh-high socks are a hindrance.

His demand leaves you flabbergasted, and you continue to remain silent, to which Jake doesn’t seem satisfied.

He raises his hand to cup your cheek, bringing your full attention to his dark gaze. “Can you do that for me?” He asks firmly, applying pressure to the hesitancy you bear in your mind.

“Yes.” You utter your answer while your mind vehemently disagrees with you. A newfound desire kindles in you, and that is to please Jake.

“Good.”

You feel his hand creeping from your thigh to your buttcheek, eliciting an inaudible gasp from you, before he pulls your body closer to his until you feel something hard touching your core. Your heart lurches in your chest while the tension between the two of you feels suffocating. 

“Jaeyun,” You whisper his name as you feel paralysed by the sensation of his hardened dick beneath you, and you fear that one movement from you will unleash the inner devil that lurks beneath his charming facade. 

His strong cologne infiltrates your senses, enticing you to bury your head into his chest and bask in his scent, but with his face leaning closer to yours, you hold yourself back from doing so.

His nose touches yours while his hot breath fans above your lips. By now, his eyes are darkened and shrouded with lustful desire for you, wanting nothing more than to devour you, fucking you into oblivion.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks softly, contradictory to how he is holding you possessively with his hand holding and palming your buttcheek while the other is wrapped around your waist.

No, you should definitely say no. Your first kiss is reserved solely for the one who will be marrying you.

“Yes.” Your heart pounds harder in anticipation of your answer.

With your consent, he closes the gap between your lips while you flutter your eyes closed, awaiting the kiss.

Just as you envisioned, his warm lips feel soft and plump as he kisses you sweetly, which has your toes almost curling. He kisses like you are made out of glass, and he takes his time as though he is memorising the shape of your lips in the back of his mind.

But you remain unmoving, uncertain of how to kiss him, and embarrassment floods across your cheeks. When he pulls away, your chest tingles with disappointment.

“I’m sorry.” You find yourself apologising to him, your eyes crestfallen. Disheartened, you slouch your shoulders and avoid his gaze. “I don’t know how to kiss.” You mutter weakly while your fingers curl into fists as they rest on his chest.

“Lovely, look at me.” His soft command compels you to heed, and when you raise your head, your heart nearly lurches in your chest when he pulls you by the nape and slams his lips on yours, and this time, there is a sense of urgency and desperation as he kisses you.

Compared to the previous kiss, this kiss is messy, sloppy even, as you are unable to coordinate with how he is kissing you, but what genuinely confuses you is the fact that he doesn’t seem the slightest bothered by how bad you are at kissing. It is as though what matters to him most is the taste of your lips.

Your stomach churns with guilt, yet your core is pooling with newfound desire. Your lips part as you gasp at the sensation of his hardness grinding against yours, and you can almost feel his tip hitting your clothed clit that is aching with forbidden need. You can almost feel how big he is.

Jake grasps the opportunity to force his tongue into your mouth, exploring every inch of your hot cavern while his nails dig into the flesh of your ass. You try your best to keep up with him, your tongue tangling with his wet muscle in a mess, yet it is a mess that elicits a moan from the back of your throat.

You move your hips tentatively, testing waters, but soon you are grinding your hips against his while you attempt to feel the delirious friction of your clit rubbing against his pointed tip. A low groan emits from him at how painful his cock is, wanting nothing more than to bury himself inside of you. But he knows that he must wait patiently.

You gasp in pain when he has your bottom lip between his teeth, and you whimper as he tugs and pulls it teasingly, prompting you to flutter your eyes open and meet his dark, hypnotising ones. The corner of his lip tips up in a smirk before he devours you once more, and this time, he is assisting you with the other hand gripping your waist.

“You’re doing so fucking for me, lovely.” He rasps against your wet, parted lips with soft moans, leaving them. “So, so perfect just for me.” He purrs seductively before kissing you, while his praises send your heart fluttering.

“Jake.” You whimper against his lips in need, and goosebumps arise on your skin when he growls into the kiss. It all happens too fast, because the next thing you know, he has you pinned on the couch while your legs remain wrapped around his waist.

Butterflies flutter in your tummy as he leans down to press a gentle kiss on your neck, eliciting a pleasurable sigh from you, but a pained whimper follows when he bites down your skin in a threatening manner.

“Wrong name, baby.” He murmurs against your skin, his hand squeezing the plush of your thigh almost painfully. “What is my name?”

“Jae─” Your eyes roll to the back of your head while a breathless moan leaves your lips at the sensation of his hardened dick grinding against your pussy. “Jaeyun!”

“That’s fucking right.” He pulls away from you, hovering on top of you with his chain necklace dangling above you. You catch a glimpse of his inked tattoo on his collarbone area. “Do you want more?” He grinds again, deliberately.

“N-No.” You deny, shaking your head, but the moan that rips out from your lips betrays you, as does the way you buck up your hips in an attempt to feel for the delirious friction between your clit and his pointed tip.

Jake tuts as he halts his movement, his hand moving to brush the messy strands covering your cheeks. “It’s a sin to lie, my pretty girl.”

“Jaeyun, please!” You plead, throwing away your dignity.

“Nah, I don’t think so.” He chuckles breathily, finding pure delight in the way your eyes are glistening with need. He leans down to place a chaste kiss on your moist lips and remains there before murmuring, “But if you really want more, meet me by the entrance of the palace tomorrow night, and don’t forget to wear your fishnet thighs, yeah?”

No, for God’s sake, you should be saying no.

“Okay.” You breathe out your answer, earning you a grin from him.

You ignore the disappointment in you when he unwraps your legs from his waist and rises from the couch to adjust his denim jacket while you remain motionless, your mind in a muddle. By now, your lips are swollen, and your chest is heaving up and down from the aftermath.

Jake stares down at you with a smirk at the remnants of lust gleaming in those mesmerising eyes of yours before he extends his hand to you, which you gladly accept. As you abruptly stand, your knees nearly buckle underneath you, prompting you to latch your hand onto his bicep for support before you retract your hand from him, as though he is poisonous.

“I’d like to go back to my dorm, please.” You tell him meekly, avoiding his gaze.

You don’t say anything as you allow him to grab your hand and guide you out of the private cinema that is now tainted with traces of your sinful desire for the very delinquent you have been warned to stay away from.

All the while, as he sends you back to your dorm, your clit remains tingling and aching for some relief.

By the time you’ve reached your dorm, the time has nearly struck midnight. You had expected your roommates to be sound asleep, but when you attempt to be tactful by opening the door as quietly as you can and sneaking to your room with light footsteps in the dark, you are being greatly startled as the lights in the living room abruptly switch on, revealing two of your best friends settled in the living room.

The expressions painted on their canvas are certainly not anywhere near satisfactory, while they seem to mirror each other in the way they remain seated on the couch with their stern gazes on your figure.

“It’s nearly midnight, Y/N Kang.” Wonyoung states the obvious, her voice is so emphatic that it almost makes you cringe, because you hate it whenever she gets upset with you.

You chew your inner cheeks as you look away from their gaze while you tighten the clutch on the strap of your backpack. “Yes, and?” You dare to display your defiance, which rarely happens.

Wonyoung scoffs loudly, her disbelief is more than apparent. She rises from the couch and approaches you slowly, her eyes remaining fierce. “You’ve never come back this late! You didn’t even reply to any of our texts or return our calls!” She exclaims. “Do you even know how worried sick we got? The least you could do is inform us of your whereabouts.”

“You’re not my mother.” You snap at her, and you didn’t even intend to, but there is a newfound sensation bubbling within you that you want to unleash. Sure, Wonyoung and you bicker and even fight for a short period of time before returning to normalcy, but this time is different.

It almost feels as though you are completely fed up by their overprotectiveness and the way they often treat you like a helpless kid who knows nothing about what all stereotypical college students are like, and even more so when they often dictate your life choices.

Wonyoung’s glare deters you just slightly. “First, you’ve been giving us the cold shoulders since Saturday, and now you’re getting all attitude on us? I don’t know what happened to you, but you need to stop acting like a bitch.”

You flinch lightly as her words impact you, causing hurt to be written all over your features. Throughout the years you have known her, Wonyoung has never called you a bitch. Upon seeing the hurt reflecting in your eyes, guilt dawns on Wonyoung, but before she can apologise, you cut her off with a cold yet wavering tone.

“The fact that you still don’t even realise it yet proves that either you don’t care or you simply decided to close both eyes.”

“How are we supposed to realise anything when you don’t even confide in us?!” Wonyoung argues back.

“Hey, what’s with all the yelling?” Karina emerges from her room as she yawns, her hair is tangled while she is in her usual pyjamas, which consist of a black singlet and high shorts.

“Because I don’t feel comfortable with you guys anymore!” You raise your voice as you disregard Karina, now in a glaring contest with Wonyoung, while Yunjin’s worry is evident as she stands next to the latter. “After what happened on Devil’s Night, I don’t even know how to look at all of you the same as before.”

Amidst the anger, confusion is visible through Wonyoung’s gaze. “What are you talking about? And why did you bring up Devil’s Night?” 

“Tell us what really happened on Devil’s Night that made you act this way towards us, please.” Yunjin interjects firmly, but her gaze is softened, almost making you forget something about her.

The traumatising events reoccur in your mind as you release a shaky breath while attempting to maintain eye contact with Yunjin. “I saw you in the labyrinth garden. You were with one of the knights.” Your confession throws Yunjin off guard as she flinches visibly. “You were obviously enjoying it, even when the other knights were hunting down the rest of us and killed some students. Not to mention that there were gravely injured ones!”

Yunjin swallows harshly and takes a step forward. “I can explain─”

But your eyes return to Wonyoung before they dart down at her neck bearing hickeys. “Those are from Jungwon when he captured you that same night.” Your presumption proves correct when her cheeks tint pink. “I was worried for you and thought that he did something horrible to you, or worse.”

Getting overwhelmed by the different emotions that coalesce into one, your eyes begin to glisten with tears, blurring your vision with each blink. You can discern the guilt hanging in the cold air that is infused with their silence, but you continue to vent out the feelings you have suppressed.

“The thing that made me most upset about it was the fact that all of you didn’t seem the slightest bothered by what happened on Devil’s Night, including those students who were murdered by the notorious frat delinquents, and their only sins were simply having fun on a normal Halloween night!” You choke a sob with a fallen teardrop sliding down your cheek. “Even the rest of the students acted normal as if Devil’s Night wasn’t inhumane and traumatising enough.”

“That’s just how Devil’s Nights have always been.” Yunjin says her expression remains calmly collected, which infuriates you, because why does she seem indifferent about it? “And for that very reason, Devil’s Night is never meant for anyone with a faint heart.”

“Why are you suddenly blowing up on us about this?” Karina asks, giving you a bewildered stare. “We thought you were fine with it.”

“Because you girls should have told me in the first place how heinous Devil’s Night is!” You retort. “You girls were the ones who thought it was a good idea to bring me along with you in the first place.”

“I recall you agreeing and going to Devil’s Night on your own accord.” Wonyoung remarks annoyedly, her eyes narrowing at you.

“My biggest mistake.” You say in a tone that sounds foreign in your ears while you clench a fist. “You know what? I’m done with this.”

Just as you are about to retire to your room, Yunjin stops you with her inquiry, “At least tell us where you were earlier.”

With your back turned on them, you contemplate before opting for the other route. “None of your business.” You tell her quietly, yet it is resounding for them before you proceed to your room in haste and slam the door shut.

Your mind is on autopilot as you refuse to wallow in whatever feelings are storming all over you, heading for the bathroom to take a shower.

Minutes have passed since you entered the bathroom. Currently, you have just washed off the shampoo from your hair and are rinsing off the lathered soap on your body. Your face is devoid of emotion, but then comes the thought of Jake in your mind.

You recall what happened between the two of you earlier and how disgustingly aroused you were. A muscle pulses in your jaw while self-hatred shrouds you. How could you have done such deplorable acts just after you had sought forgiveness?

The shower steam is starting to fog in the bathroom as you remain under the shower head, allowing the water to rinse you thoroughly and self-reflecting your prior behaviour. 

But it feels as though there are devils whispering into your ears, making you recall again with another perspective how truly aroused you were and the delicious friction between your clit and the pointed tip of his clad cock, how the heat of his touch and his wet, messy kisses ignited your arousal.

You feel the familiar sensation stirring in your core before the essence starts to leak its way to your folds simply by fantasising about your ex-crush burying his thick cock into you. You squeeze your thighs in an attempt to suppress your arousal while simultaneously battling an internal conflict with yourself for being sinful once more.

Finally surrendering yourself to the devil’s lulling whisper, you begin to fantasise about Jake kissing you hotly and messily while groping every part of your body, his husky voice whispering all the dirty things seductively in your ear while he fucks you relentlessly.

You lean your back against the wall, slowly spreading your legs for good measure. Your fingers trail down to your aching clit which is in need of relief, while your free hand fondles your boob. Your head is tilted up with your chest heaving up and down as you circle your clit before you set a pace that is addictive, maintaining momentum that has you breathing heavily now.

Eventually, a moan leaves your lips as you rub and circle your clit fast while your fingers tweak and pull your hardened nipple. You begin to fantasise about Jake again, and this time, you imagine him doing this to you.

You had no idea how truly sensational masturbation was until now. You continue to get lost in the delirium, and you try your utmost to keep your moans at a minimum, but it’s like you lack the ability for control as you release moans that echo throughout the walls of the bathroom which you fear your best friends might hear.

You don’t stop, and you increase the pace as soon as you feel your orgasm impending. With one last moan, you finally come undone, feeling the sticky essence leaking from your wet folds.

With heavy pants, you quickly compose yourself by washing away the evidence of you coming undone. You know you should be disgusted with yourself, but amidst the immense guilt of the blasphemous deed, you feel a certain change within you.

Maybe you should meet him tomorrow by the palace and find out what he has in store for you.

The next morning, you fall into your normal routine ─ waking up early for morning classes despite the lack of sleep last night, and evading your three best friends once again. But one thing is certain is the fact that you have been battling against the internal conflict within you.

Of course, before you fell into the state of slumber, you prayed and sought forgiveness from God with tears brimming in your eyes, but you felt like a hypocrite as soon as you woke up from the sleep filled with a lustful dream of Jake, and you were embarrassed by the fact that even in your sleep, you managed to get wet, as evident by the dampness of your pink underwear.

Throughout your morning class, you have been completely distraught and contemplated hard on your decision to meet Jake by the palace or not, and you tried conjuring any possibilities of tonight's outcome. Against your better judgement, you chose to venture to the route that the rational part of you has been relentlessly trying to stop you.

Your phone buzzes in your hand before you glance down to read a text from your good friend, prompting you to increase your walking pace.

WINTER: I’m on my way to your dorm. As much as I’m happy that you’re finally wearing something sexy for once, do I really want to know what is going on and why? YOU: I’ll tell you later, but only if you promise to keep it a secret from the others. WINTER: Our good baby girl is finally being scandalous now? Sign me up! Fine, I promise I won’t reveal your secret to others. YOU: You’re the best, Minjeongie~ WINTER: I was born to be the best, babe.

You chuckle lightly before lifting your head up, but you bump into a solid back that causes you to stagger a step back. “I’m sorry.” Just as you apologise, his strong arm slings around your neck, causing you to nearly stumble forward under his weight.

“Hey, Y/N.” His sultry voice greets you, sending you bad shivers while your skin crawls with disgust as you finally look at him. You know him mainly because he used to throw vulgar remarks at you, and he and his other pals would often verbally bully you. They stopped when your friends stepped in and defended you from them.

“Alex,” You don’t bother to conceal your grimace as you attempt to shrug off his arm from your shoulder, but that only earns you to be roughly pulled into his side. You ignore the demeaning chuckles from his two pals. “let go of me.”

“I don’t think so, especially after we saw Giselle’s instastory of you wearing that tight dress and dancing like a stripper on Devil’s Night.” Alex’s disgustingly hot breath fans your earlobe as he speaks in a seductive lull. “If I had known beneath your pristine good girl facade is an attractive slut who should put her mouth to good use─”

Having had enough of being slut-shamed once more, you use your elbow to hit him hard in the stomach while a part of you is taken by surprise by your newfound bravery. Alex groans out in pain as he releases you, but his other pal, who goes by the name Simon, grabs your arm and slams you against the wall, eliciting a pained gasp from you at the impact.

By now, you tremble in fear when Simon pins you with no way out, his knee forcefully parting your legs. His lips curl into a sneer as he glares down at you. “Did you forget who we are? I guess it’s time we teach you a little lesson.”

You attempt to shove him by the chest, but your strength is no match compared to his. “Get away from me!” Your voice is laced with desperation for help, hoping that the students in your vicinity will come to save you, but they proceed to mind their own business as if they didn’t see you getting assaulted by your past bullies.

Your three bullies laugh degradingly as they surround you before Simon grabs a fist of your hair to pull your head to the back and force your neck to arch for him to administer his assault on your dainty neck as his lips touch your skin.

The corner of your eye is filled with tears, and this earns you a mockery of ‘awww’ from Alex and his other pal, who goes by Hans.

“No one’s going to help you, bitch.” Hans slaps your cheek lightly while you continue to struggle in Simon’s grasp. “You’re crying? We haven’t even done anything to you yet.

“What a fucking loser, as always.” Alex remarks with a smirk, watching you with a cruel glint in his eye.

Just as you think it’s over for you, a familiar yet sharp voice slices through the air like a knife that nearly has you flinching at how resonant it is. “Release her.”

Never have you ever expected Park Sunghoon to be the one to save you, or so you thought.

Simon doesn’t release the instant, but he does, however, look over his shoulder to cast a sneer at Sunghoon, whose face is devoid of emotion. “Mind your own business, Park. She’s ours to deal with.”

“We didn’t expect you to save your damsel in distress, Sunghoon.” Hans comments with his eyebrow arched, intrigued. “I thought you hated this bitch.”

Your eyes glisten at the moment Sunghoon’s cold eyes meet yours, the familiar sentiment you recognise all too well glints in his dark eyes. His lips curve into a sardonic smirk. “You’re right, but I’m not going to repeat myself when I tell you once again to release Y/N Kang.”

“Why?” Alex asks with a bewildered glare.

All the while, Sunghoon’s eyes remain on yours as he continues to speak, “Because she’s already mine to deal with. Trust me when I say I’ll be doing you guys a favour.”

Simon groans. His hand, which is grabbing a fist of your hair, tightens, eliciting a painful wince from you. “Just a few more minutes, Park. Let me fuck around with her for a little.

Sunghoon’s mere action of his hand gripping Simon’s shoulder firmly takes you by a slight surprise, as does the peculiar glint in his gaze at the back of the latter’s head. “I wasn’t asking, and you’ll do well to remember whose rank is higher between us.”

Simon clenches his jaw before he eventually releases you, allowing you to grasp the opportunity to calm your nerves. “Fine. You want her?” The next thing you know, Simon’s hands are on your shoulders tightly as he shoves you roughly towards Sunghoon, resulting in your tumble, and you find yourself on the ground.

You withstand the painful impact of landing on your knees. With your palms on the ground in front of you, you curl them into fists at the utter humiliation while you hear your three bullies snicker behind you. You allow your hair to cover any parts of your face as you refuse to look up, afraid of the expression on Sunghoon’s face.

“She’s all yours to deal with.” Simon tells Sunghoon with a sense of mockery.

“I don’t suppose you can consider sharing her with us.” Alex inquires smugly.

As you are directly kneeling in front of Sunghoon, you can feel him bending down before you feel his cold fingers gripping your chin tight and forcing you to look up at him.

The concoction of abhorrence and wickedness dance delightfully in his eyes, evoking a sense of foreboding from you. "Sorry, fellas, but you gotta find other girls to prey on. Y/N Kang is mine, and if it makes you feel better, I’ll do her much worse.” Sunghoon tells them, all the while keeping his cruel gaze on your glistening eyes.

His cold eyes rake over your features once more before he lets out a scoff. “Pathetic.” He utters the word to you as he releases your chin roughly.

You hear your three bullies erupt into laughter and praise Sunghoon. You finally find the will to look up and spot the three of them surrounding Sunghoon as they proceed to walk away from you.

With sore knees, you begin to rise from the ground and ignore the stares from the students in your vicinity who had witnessed the entire humiliation.

Your heart squeezes painfully as you recall the cruelty in Sunghoon’s cold gaze. You blame yourself for expecting him to save you when you should have known that he would side with your bullies.

As you wipe another fallen teardrop from your cheek, you advance forward, resuming your journey to your dorm, but your feet are practically dragging with a trail of your disheartened spirit.

All the while, you fail to realise a pair of familiar eyes with inexplicable storms have been watching the entire thing. 

With a face devoid of emotion, he watches your low-spirited figure get further and further before he feels his phone buzzing in his pocket. He whips out his phone and proceeds to read the text notification from his best friend.

SUNGHOON: They took the bait.  JAKE: Thanks. Remind Jungwon and Riki to lock every entrance and exit tonight.

The corner of Jake’s lips tips up in a smirk, while there is a familiar bloodthirsty glint in his eye as he leans away from the wall to make his way to meet the others.

You stare in incredulity at the garments that are laid out on your bed, while the not-so-subtle squeals from your high-spirited friend don’t go unnoticed by you.

When you specifically asked Winter if you could borrow her fishnet tights, you naturally expected her to bring the aforementioned items, but you definitely did not expect her to bring along some of her garments.

The garments consist of a black long-sleeve button-up crop top and a black pleated skirt that reaches way above your knees, barely covering your thighs. Uncertainty resides in your gaze. One of your biggest insecurities is that your thighs are thicker than your best friends’.

Honestly, you’re not too fat, but neither are you too thin. Your body proportion is something you have always found unusual. Your shoulders are slender, your breasts weigh heavier, and you admit that it hurts to run sometimes. Your snatched waist as well as your hip dips are something you are proud of, but your thighs have always been an issue for you whenever you want to try out denim pants or just pants that don’t cater to your size. Plus, you have always received remarks about your thighs from some people.

“Um, Winter,” You scratch your damp hair while your body remains wrapped in a towel. “I think the fishnet tights are enough since I did specifically ask for them.” You point out the obvious along the lines of light chuckles.

“I know that, duh, but to add some spice, you have to wear these.” Winter’s adamant tone leaves you no choice but to acquiesce. “Now that we’re at it, what is the special occasion? Who are you hooking up with?”

You gasp at her just as you retrieve the pleated skirt and the black top. “I’m not hooking up with anyone!”

“Girl, you can’t fool me. I mean, fishnet tights, seriously?” Winter deadpans. “Plus, there is only one person who has fishnet tights kink, and that very person is the one and only Jake Sim.”

Your cheeks flare with diffidence, but a certain curiosity pops into your mind as you stare at her. “How do you know about that?”

“I’ve heard a thing or two from the girls he had slept with in the past.” Winter says, getting distracted as she inspects her acrylic nails. “So are you going to hook up with him or not?”

“I─” You pause, and uncertainty wraps around your head despite your understanding of the clear intent of his suggestion last night. You heave a sigh. “I don’t know, and I don’t even know why I’m doing this.”

“Face it, babe. Deep inside of you, you want a taste of him.” Winter grins smugly while you grimace in return. “I really want to know all the details about how you and him happened, but that can wait.”

You watch as Winter makes her way to your wardrobe drawer, where you store your undergarments, and pulls it open before she rummages through them.

“Winter!” You shriek as she tosses each out, causing them to be scattered on the floor. “I just had them organised last week!”

“I’ll reorganise them for you later!” Winter chirps before finally having her hands on the pieces she looked for. You hear her gasping dramatically. “Y/N Kang! You sneaky little vixen!”

You groan at the gleeful tone in her exclamation as well as the pretty black lace bra and underwear in her grasp. “Karina bought them for my birthday last year.” You grumble out.

“That’s my girl.” A Cheshire grin adorns Winter’s face at the mention of Karina. She shoves those undergarments into your already-occupied hands. “Now go. I’ll be waiting here to do your makeup gorgeously so Jake won’t be able to keep his hands off of you.”

You roll your eyes in return, but just as you move forward, you halt your steps and look at Winter, who is seated on the edge of your bed, bouncing lightly with the same grin on her face. “I promise to tell you all the details of how it happened, but can you promise me that you won’t tell the others?”

“You have my word.” Winter gives you a firm head nod.

“Not a single soul.” You say firmly.

“Girl, just get your ass into the bathroom and get changed. I’ll keep all of your naughty deeds in full secrecy.”

Your eyes narrow at Winter as she makes the silly gesture of zipping her mouth before you eventually relax the tension in your head and proceed to change.

Maybe it has to do with the fact that a part of you has been looking forward to this night, but by the time you arrive by the gates of the palace, you realise that it is still a little earlier than the time Jake had stated last night.

The cold breeze manages to breach through the thin material of your top, sending you shivers before you latch your arms around your figure in an attempt to warm yourself. The same breeze caresses your legs, which are adorned with fishnet tights, prompting you to press the button at the side as it buzzes.

Just as you retract your hand, a moment of ambivalence hits you. The rational part of you is begging for you to reevaluate your absurd decision to come here, but the moment the golden gates automatically open, you know that it is too late to back out. You can only afford to wallow in regret.

With each step you take forward, your heart gradually pounds hard against your chest, uncertain of what the night holds. Of course, you are expecting something that involves resuming where the two of you left off last night, but at the same time, you are caught up in turmoil.

The loud clanging sound of the golden gates surprises you, prompting you to look over your shoulder to see the gates are closed, unable to make your exit. You swallow harshly before proceeding to venture forward.

Naturally, you head for the palace’s entrance, and as soon as you nearly reach it, a figure sporting all-black attire emerges from the side bush, and just his abrupt presence alone manages to give you a scare as you let out a shriek.

You hear chuckles beneath the grey mask that obscures his identity. “You really do have a faint heart.”

At the sound of his voice, a frown tugs at your lips. “Jungwon?”

Once Jungwon removes his mask, his feline-like eyes lock with yours, and his lips curve into a grin that has inexplicable intent. “You arrived earlier than expected.” He remarks calmly while you shift comfortably under his gaze. “Whatever. Either way, you’re going to get what you want the moment you step foot into our zone.”

Jungwon takes a menacing step forward, and instinctively, you recoil, but Jungwon is swift enough to grab you by the arm and pull you roughly towards him. “Last chance for you. Are you sure you’re up for this?” He asks quietly, his dark eyes scrutinising your face. “Because once you agree, everything that will happen next is essentially consensual.”

The apprehension in your tummy becomes tenfold while your mind is imploring you to run from this place, but your curiosity will always get the best of you. “Yes, I’m up for this.” The words fly out of your mouth affirmatively, and the small voice in your head is berating you for basically digging in your own grave.

A glimmer of delight shines in Jungwon’s eye. “You’re stupid, Y/N.” He remarks with a derogatory chuckle, but there is a certain knowingness etched on his face. “But I can see why he has taken a liking to you.”

You ignore the way his eyes rake all over your figure before he returns his gaze to your face and tightens his grip on your arm. “Let’s go.”

Instead of guiding you into the palace, Jungwon navigates his way around the building while literally dragging you as you struggle to keep up with him.

“Where are you taking me?” You ask, and you nearly stumble due to the roughness of his deadly grip on your arm as he continues to pull you.

Jungwon doesn’t answer your question straight away, and just as you are about to inquire once more, your attention is pulled away from him to the familiar massive labyrinth garden. Those unpleasant memories from Devil’s Night flood your mind while you stagger a step back, flinching in fear.

You haven’t realised Jungwon has released his grip on your arm until his voice draws your attention to him once more. “Jake doesn’t know that you’re here yet, because he is preoccupied with a little something.” Your eyes narrow at his coy smile. “In fact, I shouldn’t have brought you here.”

“Then why have you brought me here?” You ask adamantly, no longer restraining your great annoyance for him.

“To spice things up, as you girls would say. You should head inside and don’t even think about trying to escape.” Jungwon warns you, his smile is no longer on his face. He takes deliberate, slow steps back while keeping his dark gaze trained on your face. “Good luck, Y/N. Hopefully, you’ll survive the night.”

“What?” You frown, watching as he gets further and further away. “Jungwon!”

Concurrently, as soon as you call for Jungwon, a scream belonging to a man pierces through the cold air, startling you. Your heart begins to pound in apprehension as you hear some commotion nearby.

You should have run away, but instead, you take tentative steps forward while you survey your surroundings, and you can discern another noise that sounds awfully akin to those gory movies you watched, as though someone is being stabbed.

“H-Hey, man! We can talk things out instead!”

You frown at the familiar voice of your bully, who sounds frantic and pleading with someone. You halt your steps just as you are about to turn to the right corner, where the source of the commotion is happening.

“You should’ve thought about it the moment you dared to touch and kiss her with your filthy lips.”

You are nearly rendered shocked by the unfamiliar coldness in his tone amidst the palpable darkness. You swallow down a lump in your throat before daring yourself to take a peek, and when you do, your eyes widen in mortification at the gruesome sight of Alex and Han’s lifeless bodies with blood splattered everywhere, but what horrifies you the most is the slit wound on their necks with blood oozing profusely still.

“You’re fucking deranged, Jake!” Simon’s yell pulls your attention to them, and you watch as Simon attempts to crawl backwards away from Jake while his hand is holding the side of his bleeding waist. “To go to this extent just for that fat bitch?!”

You know too well he is referring to you, causing you to wallow momentarily in dejection upon the familiar insult you have heard before. But Simon’s yell pulls your gaze to him again, and this time, you accidentally release an audible gasp that no doubt reaches their ears.

With Jake’s back facing you, you watch in pure horror when he plunges the knife in his grasp deep into Simon’s stomach with no hesitation. Simon coughs out blood, and that is also when you realise how badly fucked up his face looks. 

“The ‘fat bitch’ you referred to has a name, and for the record, she’s not fat.” Jake’s voice sounds deeper, and you can detect the snarl in his tone. “I’m so gonna enjoy killing you for assaulting what’s mine.”

“She’s not worth it!” Simon manages to splutter, wheezing as Jake twists the knife deeper into his stomach before he withdraws the knife to bring it to Simon’s neck. Simon doesn’t have the opportunity to say his last words when Jake swiftly slices his neck with clean precision, as though he is an expert at killing his victim.

You watch as the life in Simon’s eyes perishes before Jake roughly releases him, allowing his body to fall to the ground with a loud thud.

Numbness is all you can feel. As you stare at their lifeless bodies, you have no idea what to feel for them. Internal conflict resides with you. A part of you agrees with the fact that they deserve to die after what they did to you, but the goodness in you feels sorrowful over their deaths. 

The metallic smell of their blood pervades the foreboding atmosphere as well as your nostrils, snapping you out of the trance before you redirect your focus on the man whom you thought wasn’t capable of such a heinous act.

Holding the blood-stained knife that is dripping with the remnants of Simon’s blood, he slowly turns around, giving you a good view of his appearance. Your jaw goes unhinged upon seeing the ghostface mask obscuring his face.

By now, it is too late for you to hide yourself from him, as you can almost feel the intensity of his gaze behind that mask. Trepidation courses through your veins while your stomach churns with uneasiness as you stare at him in a different light.

Jake tilts his head slightly to one side, as though he is curious. “What are you doing out here?”

You don’t answer his question as you dart your eyes at your dead bullies before swallowing harshly. “You killed them.”

Jake takes a step forward, but you instinctively back away from him. “Why the sad face, beautiful? Shouldn’t you be glad that I did you a favour? They won’t be bothering you anymore.”

You curl your hand into a fist while you attempt to soothe your nerves. “But you didn’t have to kill them.” You say shakily.

“Of course, I had to!” Jake’s sudden outburst startles you, making you go flinching. “Don’t you understand? They fucking assaulted you! This is the consequence of their actions!”

“You’re crazy, Jake!” You surprise yourself when you manage to find your voice, but your hand remains trembling in fear for the man you thought was filled with radiant kindness.

Jake halts his steps, and it is hard for you to decipher the expression on his face, but at the moment he releases chuckles, you shiver at how dark and deadly he sounds. “You haven’t seen anything crazy yet, beautiful.”

In a blink of an eye, he charges towards you, and your body goes into a fight-or-flight mode as you find yourself running away from him. You don’t even have the time to marvel at your agility and how you are able to run at this pace, only desperate to fight for your survival.

Behind his mask, a cunning grin smears across his lips, finding the sheer thrill and excitement in preying on you. He purposefully decreases his pace, giving you the illusion that you have managed to outrun him as the two of you have entered the palace.

Things have differed from the original plans he had for you. You weren’t even meant to witness him kill your bullies. He had only intended to let you know after he managed to bury himself inside of you. Part of him is mad at Jungwon, but he can’t deny that this changes things into a rather thrilling adventure.

The darkness lurking beneath his charming countenance relishes the palpable fear and anxiety you exude as he watches you ascend to the second floor in haste.

You stop momentarily to take a breather. Your chest squeezes painfully with each breath you take. As you look around, you silently berate yourself for not making it to the exit of the palace.

“Awww, why did you stop running?” Your body goes frigid upon hearing his voice just a few metres from behind you.

You whip around, staring at him with wide panic eyes. “Let’s play a little game, shall we?” He says, taking one step forward. “You’re going to run and find someplace to hide,” A chuckle of delight leaves his lips. “but if I catch you, I will fuck you, and if you try to escape again, I will kill you.”

Jake does not mean it literally. He just wants to give you a good scare. The way your glistening eyes are staring at him in palpable fear entices the wickedness in him.

The trepidation is making your head dizzy, while the fear enveloping your weak heart springs tears to your eyes. “J-Jaeyun─”

“Run, Y/N.” Jake shocks you as he nearly growls out, but it is as though your body has been paralysed, remaining rooted to the ground. “I said fucking run!”

And you do, picking up the pace. The interior is massive enough for you to aid your refuge from facing Jake’s malignity, and you grasp the opportunity to turn into a deep end corner where the long stretch of corridor displays doors that lead to different rooms.

“You better start hiding, my lovely!”

You dash straight for the flight of stairs next to you, all plans of hiding in one of the rooms are forgotten. When you reach the third floor, you have a hunch that either of these doors are their rooms.

Hearing his footsteps approaching from below, you decide to shove yourself inside an empty store room, which lacks any lights, before closing the door as quietly as you can. You whip out your phone frantically in an attempt to turn on the flashlight while your heart is racing at the familiar fear of being shrouded in total darkness.

With a heavy pant as you lean your back against the wall, you grasp this opportunity to regulate your emotions, which feel like a maelstrom within you. Your hand that is holding your phone remains trembling from the trepidation.

Your phone vibrates as notifications pop up.

WONYOUNG: Hey, can we talk later?

WINTER: Have fun, babe! Don’t forget to tell me all the juicy details ;)

You scoff lightly at Winter’s text. If only she knew that Jake was a psychopathic killer who had murdered your bullies. But then again, you don’t feel the slightest remorse. 

Instead of responding to any of them, you tuck your phone in your pocket and inch closer to the door. You press your ear against the door in an attempt to listen for his voice or footsteps, but there are none. Your hand finds its way to twist the doorknob before you slowly pull open the door. You peek your head outside and check for the coast.

The ominous atmosphere is accompanied by a cold, deadly silence. Mustering courage, you switch off your flashlight and step out of the room. You begin to devise quickly, deciding that you need to find another way to make your escape.

Stealthily, you advance forward, but hesitation is discernible from each step you take. Your inner turmoil persists while your skin is crawling with dread, hating how painfully silent the whole palace is and how dim the lights are getting.

Just as you are about to make your descent to the second floor, a startled gasp leaves your lips when your eyes lock onto the familiar ghostface. He is leaning sideways against the wall with one arm folded while the other is toying around with his knife.

“Hello, love.” Jake greets you, remaining unmoving from his position while you are trembling with palpable fear for your predator. You can already imagine the grin on his face as you detect his tone.

“Jake,” There is a plea in your voice as you take a step back. “please, let me go.”

But Jake simply ignores your plea. You watch as he goes perfectly still, as does the air around you while your figure is transfixed. You draw a sharp breath while your heart pounds erratically against your chest, uncertain of what to expect next.

The movement of his head tilted catches your keen eyes, and without any warning given to you, he catches you off guard when he dashes up to you, and you release fearful shrieks as you attempt to make a run in the opposite direction.

For a moment, you have forgotten that he used to be the captain of the rugby team, and you underestimated his agility.

With his hand firmly on your arm, he pulls you to him until your back hits his solid chest. You swear you hear his low, ragged breaths beneath his mask, and this position reminds you of the night he danced intimately with you, but this time, he has embodied a serial killer that you watched on screen twice.

Jake doesn’t say anything and forcefully drags you to one of the rooms, which you presume is his room. The cold air smacks you in the face as he forces you into his room. He kicks the door closed behind him before guiding you to his king-sized bed and pushing you down without any thoughts of gentleness.

You land face-flat on the mattress with a grunt before quickly turning around, your eyes staring at your own ghostface looming ominously over your figure. Your skirt is hiked way above your thighs as you attempt to scramble away from him, but just as you do, your pulses drum in your ears when he pins you on the bed with his knee in between your parted legs.

The streaks of moonlight streaming into his bedroom window illuminate the mask, allowing you to soak up the image of his ghostface mask up-closed into your frazzling mind as he leans down. Your eyes widen the slightest fraction while your heart nearly lurches in your chest. 

As the faint metallic smell of blood is detectable from his potentially stained black garments, your fear becomes tenfold, but you refrain from allowing the tears that have collected in the rims of your eye to leak out.

"I told you to run, did I not?" The pointed tip of his once blood-stained knife grazes down on your cheek tantalisingly slowly before it reaches your neck.

A tear manages to escape the corner of your eye while you release a whimper that galvanises the wickedness in him. "J-Jake, t-this isn't you─"

"You have no idea who I truly am, lovely." His chuckles that you once found endearing before are laced with malicious intent, and your body trembles with trepidation beneath him when he presses the sharp edge of the knife to your throat. "Do you remember what I told you earlier about what happens if I catch you?"

"You─" Your voice visibly shakes, which denotes fear, and your breath hitches in your throat when he uses his other hand to expertly unbutton your top while he awaits your next words. You swallow a whimper before forcing yourself to speak again. "You will fuck me." You weakly utter the profanity that tastes like poison on your tongue.

"And if you try to escape?" He asks, humming delightfully as he unfastens the last button of your top, now revealing your pretty black lace bra that barely covers the expanse of your plump breasts.

Dread crawls onto your skin as you whisper the next words, "You'll kill me."

You watch as he slowly removes his mask, allowing his long strands to hover over his chiselled forehead. You ignore the way your heart flutters as he smirks down at you with the craze glinting in his eyes. "I'm going to fuck you all night, and you're going to scream my name until you forget yours, but first, spread your legs for me, lovely."

Jake proceeds to unzip the side of your pleated skirt before pulling it down, with you obediently assisting him as you lift your hips, which earns you an appreciative hum from him.

He taps your thigh, a signal you surprisingly understand, and you do as you were told, slowly spreading your legs for him despite the embarrassment flooding scarlet red across your cheeks, but you are thankful that the room barely has any lights. You don’t want him to see the stretch marks around your thighs.

It takes him every ounce of self-restraint from completely pouncing on you and burying his cock to the hilt of your cunt. He can already imagine the sweet taste of your pussy that no one has ever breached.

His eyes rake all over your magnificent figure, and he marvels at how truly perfect you look, especially your thighs that he desires to squeeze around his head as he delves into your cunt.

On the other hand, you take his silence as him judging you, causing your insecurity to resurface until you find yourself closing your thighs, but Jake is not having any of that.

“I said to keep them open, lovely.” Jake speaks through gritted teeth, his hand on the plump of your inner thigh and forcing it open, and you heed his command, not wanting to piss him off any longer.

At the moment his thumb comes into direct contact with your clit, you gasp in surprise. Your mouth opens partially with more inaudible gasps as his thumb begins to stroke your clit tenderly. The thin material of your translucent lace black underwear allows you to feel the friction distinctly.

“Did you dress up all prettily for me, love?” The gentleness in his tone takes you by surprise while he continues his ministration on your now-aching clit, which needs more than his thumb. He hums seductively, leaning down to place a sensual kiss on your throat. “I knew you would never disappoint me. You’re too good. My good fucking girl.”

Butterflies awaken from their slumber in your tummy upon hearing his praise, sending you an odd sensation. Sure, you’ve always earned praise from your family and your friends, but this feels like it's on another level. It makes you crave to seek validation and earn praise from him.

Jake steals your chance to speak as he decides to take you by great surprise when he practically rips your lace underwear, drawing a disbelieving gasp from you. “Jaeyun!”

“It was in the way, lovely.” He nearly whines in between grumbles, surprising you again. Just as he is about to grab both your thighs, you close them again as you shake your head. “Love─”

“They’re too thick.” You allow yourself to display vulnerability over the fact that you’re insecure about your thighs. Your head is turned sideways, and you do not know what the expression on his face is. “M-Maybe we shouldn’t─ Jaeyun!”

A shriek emits from you at the moment he roughly pushes your thighs apart by force and hooks his arms around them before pulling you roughly until your legs are hanging in the air by the bed. That is when you also realise he is kneeling to the ground with his face directly at your clean-shaved pussy.

“Thick or not, I don’t care.” He murmurs, nearly salivating, as his eyes zero in on your pussy. “I’m gonna show you the appreciation you deserve.” He squeezes your thigh with affection.

Something stirs within you, a newfound sentiment, but before you can decipher it, the wet sensation on your folds shocks you before you raise your head slightly to see him lapping his tongue on the heat of your pussy.

“Jae─” You stop midway, your mouth parting open with breathy moans. Your chest heaves up and down, breathing heavily as his wet muscle delves in between your folds. The tip of his nose grazes against your aching clit as he inhales your sweet scent that matches your taste. He continues to eat you out, as though he has been long since deprived of pussy, getting addicted to your taste as he licks your nectar.

Maybe because you’re a virgin, but fuck, you taste divine, unlike anything he imagined. His cock starts to harden at the tightness of your cunt around him.

Eventually, you begin to grind your hips as you desire to feel his tongue deeply into you, and his chest rumbles with approval from your ministration. “Nngh! Oh my god!” A high-pitched moan tears from your throat, rolling your eyes as you throw your head to the back and realise how sensational getting eaten out truly is.

But Jake halts, retracting his tongue from your needy cunt and drawing a whine from you. His tongue hits the roof of his mouth, hating the word that just came out of your mouth.

“God, please, please, please!” You sound pathetic as you plead for him to lap your cunt.

“No more praying for you, baby.” You hear the derogatory tone and husky rasp projecting in his voice, along with that attractive, thick accent.

Your thighs are hurting with the way his nails are digging into your skin, and goosebumps arise on the surface of your skin as he lightly blows at your inviting, wet hole before he takes you by surprise once more as he dives back into you, and this time, the lapping of his tongue on your tongue is messy and sounds utterly obscene.

“Jake!” Your moan sounds disgustingly lewd in your ears, and yet you don’t want this to end, gradually grinding your hips while your fingers are tugging the roots of his raven strands hard, eliciting a groan from him that sends vibration through your body.

“That’s right. Scream my name just like that.” He chuckles darkly as he pulls away from you just slightly before plunging his fingers into you, causing your jaw to unhinge at the abrupt invasion. “This room is your church, and I’m your fucking preacher now, baby.”

You should be hating the words that left his mouth, but instead, you become even more aroused with lust, as it is clouding your better judgement. 

His two fingers thrust in and out of your slick cunt tentatively, watching you under his dark gaze. Despite the raging beast in him that is close to being unleashed, he knows that he should be gentle with you, and he also yearns to make your first memorable.

“You okay?” He asks softly, halting his fingering movement upon seeing your face.

Your glistening eyes meet his dark ones as he hovers on top of you, and you nearly melt at the sweetness of his gaze, such a contrast to the person he was earlier. Your eyes flicker down at his plump lips before you slowly nod your head. “I’m okay. I want─”

You smack your lips shut together, feeling diffident at how needy you sound. A whimper leaves your lips at the loss of his fingers from your pussy.

“What do you want, lovely?” He asks, his gentle tone is an encouragement to you.

“I want more,” You tell him meekly, but the sincerity in you is palpable. Hesitantly, you decide to take initiative as your hands find their way to slither upward to his chest until they latch on the sides of his neck. “and I want you to kiss me.”

His heart soars at how adorable you are, but soon, the darkness inside of him takes control, wanting nothing more than to ruin you by the time he is done with you. Ruin for anyone to take you. Ruin for his best friends to fuck you.

He presses his lips against yours in a heated kiss, savouring the taste of cherry on your lips that has him kissing you with such fervour. Your skin tingles as his hand roams around your body before it rests on the side of your thigh, palming and squeezing the flesh in appreciation.

Satisfaction spreads across his chest as he hums into the kiss at the fact that you remembered his request that you wear fishnet tights.

As he pulls his lips away from yours, you gasp, feeling utterly breathless by the kiss. Your eyes are dazed as he retrieves the knife from the side without you knowing what he has planned for you next.

“Now, lovely, you’re going to fuck yourself onto my knife and cum on the handle.” He commands darkly, pulling you out of the trance as nervousness pulses through you.

“W-What?” You are clearly flabbergasted by the absurdity of his command and the abrupt shift in his demeanour. “But Jaeyun─”

Your breath hitches in your throat as the handle of the knife touches your clit before he drags it down to your wet slit. “Don’t disappoint your preacher now. You’re my good church girl, aren’t you?” The subtle derogatory tone in his voice makes you aroused instead of humiliated.

“Yes.” You whisper, subsequently grinding your slick cunt on the handle with his hand gripping the other edge. With each stroke you administer, you become more aroused amidst the fear of the sharp edge cutting your skin.

You tuck your bottom lip between your teeth, refraining from eliciting a moan. But Jake narrows his eyes at you and, without warning, pushes the handle in between your wet folds threateningly. “Don’t you dare silence out your pretty moans.”

A whimper emits from you, but you don’t stop grinding, needing to achieve the prior climax. But the knife’s handle alone is not enough, prompting your thumb to find its way to your aching clit that is in need of relief.

Jake watches you with heavy lust that shrouds his dark gaze as you masturbate. The tendrils of your brunette waves spread above you gracefully while your lidded eyes are reflecting the same desire as his, and soft moans occasionally leave your mouth as you grind on the knife sensually. Your chest heaves up and down, allowing his eyes to marvel at the plumpness of your breasts, which are still adorned with a black lace bra.

Oh, you are most definitely his wet dream. 

“Jaeyun.” Your pretty moan pulls him out of the trance, and when he looks down at you, your eyes are glistening with needy tears. “I’m gonna cum.”

“Do it, lovely.” He leans down to place a wet kiss on your lips that leaves you wanting more of him. “Wanna see you cum all over this knife.”

He swats your thumb away from your clit and assists you, his thumb circling your clit deliberately fast that has your stomach twist in a knot while his other hand, which is holding the knife, unrelentingly slides up and down on your wet folds.

“J-Jaeyun!” You moan out, throwing your head to the back with your hands now latching onto your breasts to palm them, unintentionally giving him a show to marvel at. With how skillful his thumb is, you feel your orgasm impending.

“Come on, lovely. Cum.” He nearly growls out his command as he quickens the pace of his thumb on your clit, and at once, your thighs slightly tremble as you finally come undone while you roll your eyes to the back.

His tongue slides across his bottom lip as he gazes down, enthralled by the sight of your cum leaking from your wet folds before they drip down to the handle. You whimper when you feel the warm handle come into contact with your folds as he uses it to scoop some of your essence.

Jake brings the handle to your lips. “Open.” On his command, you do, and you are caught off guard when he inserts the handle into your mouth, allowing you to taste yourself. “Lick your cum.”

Despite the sticky sensation on your tongue that you find disgusting, your tongue begins to lick and swirl around to capture the remnants of your cum. All the while, your eyes remain fixated on Jake’s, wanting to please him.

His eyes darken with something primal at the image of you sucking and licking his cock the way you do now, but he’ll leave that for the others to teach you, because right now, the only thing he needs is to be inside of you.

He pulls the handle away from your mouth and tosses it elsewhere on the bed before slamming his lips on yours, forcing his tongue into the hot cavern of your mouth and licking the remnants of your cum on your tongue. You moan into the lewd kiss, your hands roaming around his body.

“I’m gonna fuck you raw now,” He murmurs against your wet lips before pulling away. “and I’ll be fucking you as ghostface.”

Your heart quickens in anticipation, and the excitement dancing in your eyes doesn’t go unnoticed by him as he retrieves his mask at the side, chuckling darkly at you. “Yeah? You like the idea of a serial killer fucking you, baby?”

You don’t answer as you watch him shed the mask, obscuring his charming countenance. He unzips his pants and allows them to fall to the ground, prompting you to look at his lower region in surprise to see the visible thickness through the material of his boxer brief.

You look away as soon as he pulls it down. You feel him spreading your thighs once more, and this time, something warm and heavy taps onto your clit causes your body to jolt at the pleasurable sensation. He does it again and again, enjoying how your body responds just by the tip of his cock hitting your clit.

“Please.” You plead in a whimper, hating how he teases you. You attempt to entice him by sensually moving your hips.

“Since you asked so nicely.” He grins behind his mask, collecting the wetness from your folds and using it as lubricant before slowly inserting his dick into your inviting hole that welcomes him, but the tightness is still there, eliciting a hiss from him. “Baby, you’re so fucking tight.”

Your jaw slackens at the girth of his shaft, feeling the thickness that your walls are having a hard time accommodating to his size. A fallen teardrop streaks on your cheek, alarming him.

“It’ll be all right in a moment.” He cups the side of your face, using his thumb to wipe away the tear on your cheek. He grunts as he continues to breach your entry. Your tightness is driving him crazy. “Just gotta get you adjusted to my cock─” Your cunt finally envelopes him wholly. “There we go.” A satisfied groan rumbles deep from his chest, relishing the way your warm walls hug his cock. 

As he slowly thrusts into you, the pain you are feeling is unlike any other. You underestimated his thickness.

More tears are collecting in the rims of your eyes as he drags his cock along your walls, but his constant whisper of reassurances and the way he is cradling your cheek with care alleviate the pain temporarily before it transitions into something you discern pleasure in.

Your hand flies to grip onto his bicep for support, feeling his muscle beneath your touch flex.

Upon hearing feeble moans from your lips, he begins to pick up the pace, thrusting into you fervently with an insatiable hunger for you. His fingers dig into your skin at your hips painfully, but it is an addictive pain you relish.

“Fuck, you’re squeezing me hard, baby.” His husky voice sends your heart fluttering. He grabs one of your legs and holds it to his shoulder, his hand squeezing your calf while you are a tad surprised by how flexible you are. “Talk to me, lovely. Tell me how good I’m making you feel.”

“So, so good.” The sound of your adorable whine has him clenching his jaw, and a loud moan comes from your throat as he snaps his hips against your bum, burying himself to the hilt. “Jaeyun!”

“Fuck, baby.” He grits his teeth as he feels your walls clamping around him tight, as though they never want to let go. “Scream my name again.”

Jake withdraws his cock from you, leaving only the tip to remain in between your folds, before delivering a hard thrust into you with his hips slapping the back of your thighs painfully. You scream his name again before moaning his name like a mantra as he continues to fuck you.

You whimper with tears streaming down your cheeks as you stare at him, loving the pain and pleasure he is giving you. He grabs your other leg to his shoulder and encases your calf with his arms in a lock before fucking deeply into you in a mating press that nearly has your body folded into half.

For a moment, your jaw goes slacken with silent moans emitting from your lips while your eyes go white as they roll to the back in pure ecstasy, feeling the way he is splitting you open.

With high-pitched moans leaking from your nearly drooled lips, you feel the familiar impending orgasm knocking violently on the door. “Jaeyun!” You begin to scream his name over and over, which sounds euphonious to his ears.

“Yeah? You’re close, lovely?” He asks mockingly, fucking into you without any ounce of mercy while his raging cock is in dire need of release, especially with the way your walls are quivering around him. but he holds himself back from cumming so easily. “Fucking cum all over my cock.”

At his command, you release a high-pitched moan as you come undone for the second time, your thighs quivering in his grasp. You take note of how he rubs your thigh almost affectionately.

You whimper weakly, feeling exhausted from the events that happened tonight, but he is unrelentingly fucking into you. “Jaeyun, no more.” You plead helplessly, and yet, your arousal eventually returns to you the heat of your core despite your sensitivity.

“I’ll stop whenever I want to.” He snarls, chasing for his orgasm, his thighs hitting harshly at the back of your thighs and ass as they jiggle before delivering one last harsh thrust and withdrawing from you. His hand latches around his raging cock to rub it fast before sprouts of his cum emerge from the tip, aiming it at your tummy.

“Fuck yes.” He moans out breathily, sending you a flutter at how good he sounds.

The sensation of his sticky cum on your tummy sends you shivers down your spine. Your eyes lazily glance down, only to be rendered appalled by the girth of his cock as it remains pointed towards you. His two fingers scoop his cum from your tummy to bring it to your lips.

Automatically, your lips part open for him to shove his fingers into your mouth, forcing you to swallow his cum while you remain in eye contact with the eye sockets of his mask.

You moan, licking his fingers, and your tongue swirls around them. You look so fucking innocent with the way your doe eyes are staring at him while you suckle and lick the cum off his fingers like a good slut. His cock starts to harden again.

He pulls his fingers away from your mouth and slaps your thigh. “Get up. We aren’t done.” He says sternly as he unzips his bomber jacket and tosses them aside, revealing his fine glory of toned abdominal muscles that allow your eyes to feast on.

Your eyes trail to the ink tattooed on his right collarbone, an interesting yet beautiful design of a snake. 

His hand latches around your forearm to assist you in standing, and when you do, you wobble lightly, but you don’t have time to process anything when he pulls you down. This time, he has you settled on his lap, directly where his cock is.

He grabs his shaft to smack it on your sticky tummy while you hear his low, ragged breaths behind his mask. “You’re going to ride me and take me like the good church girl you are while you confess your sins to me.”

Your breath hitches, feeling him tap his cock on your sensitive clit with his hand on your waist, holding you up slightly as he aims it at your awaiting cunt before he forces you to sink down to his girth, eliciting a moan from you due to the fullness. His cock remains snugly fitted into your pulsating cunt.

“Whenever you are ready.” He says in mockery as he slaps your quivering thigh again. “And I don’t want to see you stop fucking on me.”

With a shaky breath, you grind on him tentatively, unsure if what you’re doing is the right way, but with his hand on your hip serving as an aid, you gain confidence and begin to bounce on him.

“Forgive me, Father,” You struggle to form out the sentence, swallowing a moan at the delirious friction of your walls getting assaulted by the girth of his cock. Your hands latch on his nape for support while your head is tilted to the back, moaning out before speaking shakily again, “for I have sinned.”

“And what are your sins?” Jake asks in between bated breaths, struggling to refrain himself from bucking his hips to meet your thrust.

“For being a hypocrite,” The words fly out of your mouth, as though another person is speaking through you. You bounce on him again, practically using him as you fuck him. “For masturbating myself last night─ Nngh!” You moan as soon as Jake bucks his hips to meet your thrust.

“Did you, now, lovely?” He chuckles darkly, now removing his mask and allowing you to marvel at his chiselled features that glisten with sweat on his skin. The long strands of his hair look damp, but you yearn to run your fingers through them.

“Y-Yes!” You gasp out as he thrusts again, and this deep, you can feel the tip hitting your cervix.

“What else?” He murmurs, his hand traversing your body until it finds the back of your bra before he unclips it expertly. With your assistance, he pulls the bra away from you and tosses it elsewhere.

You lose focus at the moment he leans forward to latch his hot mouth on your perky nipple, licking and sucking it with a hum that sends vibration through your body. His strong arm is encasing your waist to hold you in place, pulling you impossibly closer to his body while he continues to thrust up into you, and the other hand goes to fondle your other boob that is in need of attention.

With his administration on your boobs, you now realise that you are sensitive to having your boobs and nipples played with, which add fuel to your impending orgasm that is threatening to crash down at any moment of time.

Hearing no response from you with the exception of breathy moans from your lips, Jake withdraws from your now glistening nipple and smacks your thigh, causing your body to jolt.

“I said, what else? Including your worst confession.” He demands in a soft tone, such a contrast to the way he is bouncing you on his cock while occasionally smacking your thighs. “Tell me while I baptise your thighs till it hurts.” He smirks cockily before leaning down your chest to capture the silver cross in between his teeth.

Your walls tighten around his cock upon seeing how hot he looks, gazing sultry at you with the silver cross remaining in between his teeth and some of his long strands sticking to his forehead, yet you can discern his mischief.

Tears begin to leak from your eyes at how painfully he smacks your thighs, yet you don’t stop fucking yourself deeply on him, allowing his tip to bruise your cervix. “Forgive me, Father, for I have committed a despicable sin,” You manage to utter in between bated breaths and whimpers, and your body jolts again as his palm lands another smack on your now reddened thigh. “A sin that I swore to protect and reserved my chastity for the one marrying me.”

Something snaps inside of Jake as soon as those words leave your mouth. The green infuses the red in him, driving him to grip your buttcheeks tightly before bringing you down with him as his back hits the mattress.

“Jake!” You scream as he thrusts into you with a newfound vigour, bottoming you with your skin slapping his loudly and your boobs pressed against his warm, solid chest.

“Wrong name again, baby.” With one hand remaining gripping your buttcheek, the other makes its ascent to grab a fist of your hair, tugging your head to the back before he leans up to pepper his kisses all over your throat. 

You gasp in pain as his teeth bite down on your skin. “Jaeyun! That hurt!”

Jake releases your skin, allowing you to fall your head to the nook of his sticky neck. Your lips continue to emit moans and whimpers as he bottoms out harder, wanting to feel you deeply again.

“Just a little more.” He grits his teeth as his jaw clenches, feeling your walls clamp around him as you come undone for the third time of the night. You slump weakly against him, your breaths labouring.

But Jake doesn’t relent. He continues to piston in and out, his hands gripping your buttcheeks deliciously to bring you down on his dick, before he lands a hard smack on your ass as it echoes throughout his room.

Jake grunts out a moan as he quickly unsheathes his dick from your quivering cunt before familiar white cum sprouts from the tip messily on his bedsheets.

“Jaeyun, wait.” You mumble weakly as you feel him manhandling you into a different position, now finding yourself laying on him with your back against his. He ignores your protest, spreading your thighs wide before grabbing his cock to aim into your spent pussy.

“I told you, lovely,” He rasps beside your ear as he inserts his cock back into you, and your velvety walls welcome him once more despite your pathetic protests. “that I'm gonna fuck you all night."

With his hands gripping your hips, he proceeds to thrust up into you while your jaw goes slacken again. Your hands claw at his forearms, squirming to get away from him despite his strength that outweighs yours.

Your defiance has led him to smack down your trembling thigh, and eventually, you surrender, slumping against him while allowing him to fuck into you as though you’re a sexdoll. 

“I’m close.” He whispers beside your ear as he migrates his hand to your cunt and rubs your clit. The other ascends to fondle your boob and tweak your nipple, rolling them between his fingers. The pleasure from both his cock destroying your cunt and his hand assaulting your boob is intensifying. “Cum with me, angel.” He says gently, placing a soft kiss on your temple.

The familiar knot twists in your abdomen before your whole body trembles as you come undone again. He unsheathes his cock from your hole and shoots his cum messily everywhere on your thighs and your outer womanhood.

You remain motionless on top of him with your body trembling from the overstimulation while your breathing is laboured and your lidded eyes are dazed from all the fucking. You hear him breathing heavily, and you feel his heart beating violently against your back. Butterflies flutter around your tummy at the sensation of his touch on your skin as he rubs your inner thighs soothingly.

Everything hurts, and yet, it is the kind of hurt you have grown addicted to and undoubtedly leaves you wanting more.

His fingers grip your chin gently as he turns your head to face him before his lips envelope yours in a kiss that has your toes curling. He kisses you sweetly with fervour, as though he is apologising for being a little rough on you. His hand is rubbing your thigh while the other wraps around your waist protectively.

“You did so well, lovely.” He purrs against your lips before resuming to kiss you ravenously, not having enough of the way you taste. Your heart flutters at his praise. He withdraws from your swollen lips before manhandling you again, and this time, he has you settled beneath him while he hoists one of your legs over his shoulder.

You watch with a fluttering heart as he presses a gentle kiss on your calf and returns his gaze to your face. “You should wear fishnet tights often. You look really good with them.” His sincerity does something to you, as it also distracts you from the familiar split-feeling of his cock breaching your cunt once more.

“But my thighs are thick. They look ugly on them.” You admit that your cheeks flush pink in embarrassment, but you notice how his eyes darken dangerously again.

“You’re perfect the way you are.” He says softly while his thrusts feel slow and deliberate, as though he is taking his time to savour the velvety walls engulfing him. “Don’t ever change yourself. You,” Thrust! “Are,” Thrust! “Fucking perfect.” Thrust!

Lust clouds your head once more while your breathing gets heavier with each passing second, but you feel the exertion of his previous fucks into you dawning on your body.

“Eyes on me.” He orders sternly, and with a weak moan at the way he drags his cock deliciously along your walls, you do. A smirk touches his lips before he snaps his hips against yours painfully. “Good fucking girl. My sweet angel, all for me to fuck and ruin.”

Your eyes roll to the back with your neck bare for his eyes to feast on before he leans down to kiss your neck sensually, licking your skin and leaving marks in his wake.

With your head turned sideways as he continues to fuck into you harder and assaults your neck with his kisses, something captures your attention that causes your eyes to widen. Thanks to the moonlight streaming into his window, you manage to catch a glimpse of a familiar red mask on his table.

The very same mask belongs to one of your predators on Devil’s Night.

When the next day arrives, you remain in the state of your deep slumber, completely spent from last night, as your body aches tremendously and your thighs are sore from being smacked relentlessly.

You stir lightly in your sleep with your face contorting into confusion, but there is a jolting pleasure from your lower region. Your eyes remain closed behind your heavy eyelids, and as a soft moan leaves your lips, your hips automatically buck up, wanting to feel the delirious sensation of a wet muscle flickering your aching clit.

The last thing you remember is you coming undone for the ninth time and Jake carrying your half-conscious body into the bathroom after giving you the best fuck of your life that you will probably remember for the next few weeks.

You flutter your eyelids open, and the familiar sight of his white-painted ceiling greets you. With your naked form displayed on his bed, your nipples harden from the cold air conditioner and from the way a certain someone is lapping your slick cunt from below.

“Jaeyun.” You moan breathily, grinding your hips as he delves into your cunt before pulling back to spit on your clit and catching it with his tongue. Your hands fondle your boobs while you spread your legs widely for him, which has him humming as he suckles your clit.

He resumes lapping your slick cunt as though he is a hungry caveman, and you come sooner than you like, but your eyes widen in shock as he is unrelenting. His chin sheens with your essence, and by now, he is practically drooling all over your cunt.

The sight itself should feel disgusting to you, but you find yourself being enthralled by how hot he looks with half of his face sheens with your cum as soon as he pulls away.

His dark eyes meet yours as they swirl with lust and desire for you, and a smirk smears across his slightly swollen and moist lips. “Good afternoon, sweet angel.”

You marvel at the handsome sight of him in a black-fitting tee that accentuates the muscles on his body and the chain necklace hooked around his neck while his long, dishevelled strands hover over his forehead.

You don't mind waking up to this mouth-watering sight every day.

Before you can open your mouth with the intention to speak about him being one of your predators on Devil's Night, he silences you with his lips, locking yours in a searing kiss, allowing you to taste yourself.

Your fingers find their way to tangle and tug at his soft strands, and your heart flutters as he chuckles breathily against your lips at how needy you are chasing him with his lips as though you are famished.

The sound of his ringtone shatters the heated moment between the two of you, causing him to groan against your lips. Without pulling away from the kiss, his hand reaches out to grab his phone at the side, and his finger presses on the accept button.

He pulls away from your lips just slightly to shift his attention on his phone and presses on speaker mode. “Fuck off, I’m busy.” Jake says to the caller on the line in a pissed-off tone, startling you by his change in demeanour.

“Okay, I see. This is how you repay us for cleaning up your mess.” Jungwon’s sarcasm is discernible.

“What do you want?” Jake asks him gruffly as he tilts your chin to face him once more for him to resume kissing you. You whimper as he playfully nips at your bottom lip before probing his tongue into your mouth while his hand is tweaking and pinching your nipple.

“Jaeyun.” You whisper his name against his lips, wanting to warn him about the obscene sound of your lips smacking against each other’s lips. It is noticeable for Jungwon to realise the reason why Jake is occupied.

But Jake doesn’t give a fuck. He continues to kiss you sloppily before trailing his kisses down to your chest, his hand fondling the plumpness of your boob while the other nipple is occupied with his lips and tongue licking and flickering the bud.

“Listen, I don’t really give a damn about what you and the others want to do, but try to be subtle. I’d hate for Wonyoung to complain and whine at me. Just for your information, she cares greatly for Y/N.”

Your ears perk up at the mention of your best friend and your name, but the curiosity that sparks earlier diminishes when Jake presses his clothed groin against your pussy before he slowly grinds on it.

“Yeah, yeah, now fuck off. I’m very busy.” Jake dismisses Jungwon with a scowl, but as his eyes return to your dazed ones, he smirks down at you before grinding deliberately again, eliciting a soft moan from you.

“Seriously?” You hear the annoyance in Jungwon’s voice before the line goes off, allowing Jake to finally focus on you.

“You’re making me very hard, angel.” Jake groans, loving how your cunt is already leaking with the essence just by him grinding. “No one has ever made me hard the way you do, lovely.”

“I’m still sore, Jaeyun.” You mutter weakly, your lips forming into a small pout that entices him to kiss you, and he does.

"Mmhmm, I bet you are, baby.” He rasps against your lips, his tongue grazing across your bottom lip, while your fingers make their ascent to fiddle with his chain necklace hanging above your chest. “Want me to fuck you again?”

“N-No.” The hesitation in your shaky voice deepens his smirk.

“Yeah? You want me to fuck you good?” He tugs and removes his black tee before tossing it aside. Your eyes feast greedily on his fine glory again, and this time, your fingers graze across his abdominal muscles to feel him while he watches you endearingly.

“I’m exhausted, Jaeyun.” You deliver another lie that contradicts your leaking cunt, which is in desperate need of being stuffed full by his cock.

“I’ll do all the work, baby.” Removing his last garment, his heavy cock slaps down on your wet folds, causing your breath to hitch in your throat. He leans to kiss you once more before murmuring sweetly as he slowly thrust into you, “Just lie down and take it like the good girl you are, sweet angel.”

Least to say that you have a hard time walking with your sore thighs aching tremendously by the time he’s done with you.

After Jake had dropped you off at your dorm, the time struck nine p.m. Fortunately, you have no classes today or tomorrow, so you can take advantage of that to get ample rest.

Apparently, the two of you got caught up in the intense heat. You lost count of the amount of orgasm he managed to bring out of you. Jake fucked you on his bed, in the shower, and even in the kitchen, where you were searching for something to eat, but your hunger was forgotten the moment he seduced you with his dark allure and fucked you from behind.

Even after he had destroyed your pussy, each time he inserted his dick into you, your walls never failed to feel tight around him, as though they were too attached and never wanted to let go of him.

While waiting for the elevator to open, you look at your phone screen, where the camera shows your face. Your eyes widen in disbelief at the noticeable lines of hickeys on one side of your neck. Fresh, purple, and red hickeys.

Your cheeks flush in pink at the realisation that your first crush had stolen your virginity as you tuck your phone in the pocket of your pleated skirt.

Soon, a certain ambience of melancholy envelopes you. Despite him giving you the best fuck of your life, you can’t erase the image of him killing Simon with no remorse or whatsoever and their lifeless bodies in pools of blood. It was as though Jake had done this before with how he killed your bullies impeccably.

A part of you so badly wants to feel some form of sympathy, but instead, you feel like a weight is lifted off your shoulder, relieved by the fact that your three bullies won’t be bothering you ever again. You know that killing is a heinous act and sinful, but you can’t deny the fact that there is a tinge of gratitude in you for Jake.

You release a deep sigh before stepping out of the elevator to head in the direction of your dorm, and subsequently, you feel dreadful about facing your best friends, but you know you can’t hide from them forever.

Speaking of friends, your eyes widen in realisation as you have yet to reply to Winter. You whip out your phone again.

Y/N: Come over tomorrow, and then I’ll tell you.

Just as you shove your phone into your pocket, you stop in front of the door before mustering courage and proceeding to enter with tense shoulders. When you venture further, the sight that beholds you causes your eyebrow to raise.

Wonyoung has her head resting on Jungwon’s thigh, her gaze is trained on the animated television. Jungwon is leaning against the couch comfortably, his hand is occupied with his phone while the other is absentmindedly running his fingers through her soft locks, but his face is tinged with apparent boredom. Neither of them seem to realise your presence by the living, and you grasp the opportunity to stealthily trace your way to your bedroom.

You have been holding back a scoff since the moment you saw them all so comfortable with each other. You can’t help but feel the slightest resentment towards Wonyoung, who has always been adamantly insistent on refusing to affiliate herself with any of the knights.

As soon as you enter your room and close the door quietly, you proceed to take a quick shower, scrubbing every inch of your body. No matter how many scrubs you do, you swear you can feel the heat of his touch on your skin that remains lingering, even after you step out of the shower, all fresh and anew.

Feeling the exertion once more, you waste no time bringing yourself to your inviting bed that you have missed dearly before throwing yourself on the mattress, your face planting down on your pillow.

Just when you are about to snuggle into your fleecy pillow, a knock startles you. Whoever is at the door surely must have seen the lights beneath the space of your door.

“I know you’re in there, Y/N.” Wonyoung’s voice elicits a groan from you. “I’m coming in.”

You silently berate yourself for not locking the door earlier. As she pushes open the door, you turn away from her, attempting to hide your hickeys from her sight.

You hear the frustration in her sigh. “We really need to talk.”

“Has Jungwon left yet?” You ask curtly, your back is facing her as you fiddle with your soft toy. “What was he even doing here anyway? He’s your boyfriend or something?”

There are a couple beats of silence from her before she speaks in a wavering tone. “None of your business. We’re not here to talk about him. We’re here to talk about your disappearance since last night. Where were you?”

You scoff lightly as you stop your fingers from fiddling with your soft toy. “None of your business.” You use her words against her.

“Can you look at me when I’m speaking to you?” Though it is meant to be a question, the way she asks feels demanding, bringing a frown to your lips.

“Can you get out of my room?”

“For God’s sake, Y/N Kang─” Wonyoung stops mid-sentence at the moment you finally turn around to display your annoyance for her. Her sharp gaze immediately spots the lines of hickeys decorating your dainty neck. “What the hell, Y/N?”

Your eyes narrow at the near judgement in her tone. “I’m really tired, Wonyoung. We can talk some other time─”

“Who did you sleep with?” Wonyoung cuts you sharply, causing you to flinch lightly with her tone. “Who the hell did you sleep with last night, Y/N Kang? Was it one of the knights?”

It is as though there is a switch in your behaviour as you begin to lash out at her. “Fine, you really want to know? I slept with Sim Jaeyun.” Your declaration earns a shocking gasp from her, and it appears the volume of your voice attracts your other roommates’ attention as they emerge from behind Wonyoung.

“Our Y/N did what now?” Karina asks, her eyes bulging as she peeks her head over Wonyoung’s shoulder to stare at you.

“You’re bluffing.” Yunjin scoffs in disbelief, refusing to believe that you, a literal saint, have slept with one of the knights’ leaders.

“Believe what you want, but that doesn’t erase the fact that I still slept with him.”

“And you’re proud of that?” Wonyoung gives you an incredulous glare. “Y/N, we’ve told you countless times to stay away from any of them! Especially their leaders! What even spurred you to sleep with Jake Sim?!”

“Does it ever occur to you that I have needs just as the rest of you do?” You say tersely, hating the visible judgement in their eyes. “Don’t be a hypocrite when you girls are affiliating yourself with the same bunch of delinquents that you have been warning me to stay away from.”

“That’s because you’re different!” Wonyoung retorts harshly. “Because you’re not─”

“I’m not like you girls, is that what you were about to say?” You release a derisive laugh that sounds foreign to your ears. You clench a fist. “Was that why you girls befriended me in the first place? Because you pitied me and took me in so others could have some laughs and belittle me for becoming part of your cliques when I didn’t even seem fitting in to them.”

“You’ve misunderstood, Y/N.” Yunjin steps forward, and her once serious gaze softens. “We didn’t want you to become fucked up like us.”

“You can’t fool me.” You shake your head. “If anything, you girls seem perfectly fine.”

“You’re wrong. We’ve been keeping that side of us from you because we didn’t want for you to be affected and drained.” Karina offers you a weak smile. “It’s also the reason why I broke up with him — because he’s a knight. But despite breaking up with him two years ago, it resulted in me becoming mentally unstable.”

“Once you’re deeply involved with any of them, there is no way out.” Yunjin tells you, her tone sounds as grave as Karina’s. A bitter chuckle leaves her lips. “Look at me. I’m still pathetically clinging to the hope that Yeonjun will reciprocate my feelings.”

Your frown deepens, and at the same time, your mind clicks upon finally realising who Yunjin had fucked with on Devil’s Night. “You and Yeonjun were together this whole time?”

Yunjin smiles weakly. “It’s complicated because I’m not even certain of what to label us. Friends with benefits, situationship or whatever But the main thing is that being deeply involved with any of them will take a huge toll on your mental health.”

“Jungwon and I are not in a relationship.” Wonyoung finds herself confessing after contemplating for a few minutes. “In a way, my situation is similar to Yunjin. It’s a constant push and pull. Some days he seems to want me, while other days he acts like he hates me as if I’m a parasite.”

You bask in silence as you allow their words to soak into your muddling mind. To finally know of your best friends’ being affiliated with the knights has you resenting them a little for keeping you in the dark, because Karina doesn’t seem surprised at all upon their revelation. You begin to ponder if your other friends know about this or if they themselves are involved with the knights as well.

Maybe because you’re exhausted and want nothing more than to bury yourself into the pillow, but you really want to get this over with. You sigh. “Then why didn’t you girls just leave? If they don’t want you, shouldn’t that make things easier for you to leave them since they have also given you reasons why you deserve better?” You ask gently upon noticing the vulnerability shining in Yunjin and Wonyoung’s eyes.

“Like Yunjin said, it’s complicated, but at the end of the day, I know that I’m madly in love with him.” Wonyoung gives you a tight smile. “You’ll probably understand it sooner since you’ve begun becoming close to Jake.”

“We really didn’t want this for you and for you to end up like us, but you have free will, so we’re no longer going to decide things for you.” Yunjin says firmly before retreating to her room.

“It may get addictive at first, but trust me when I say you’ll be regretting it.” Wonyoung warns you. “Once things get badly fucked up, I’m not going to be there to comfort you since you should’ve known better.”

With Wonyoung’s one last look into your eyes, your heart slowly breaks into pieces as you can feel the last few strings that are holding your friendship together threaten to snap, and you know that things between you and Wonyoung will never be the same.

“Just a word of advice to be wary of Jake if you have plans on pursuing him.” Karina’s voice draws your attention to her, and you find her leaning sideways against the door with her arms folded across her chest. “I’ve heard some nasty things about him, but the worst of all is that he has a tendency to love-bomb girls.”

Before you can even ask for her to elaborate, Karina proceeds to head to her room, leaving you alone with your muddled mind. A part of you refuses to believe that Jake Sim is not as bad as your best friends described him. You have an inkling of what love-bombing is since Winter and Liz have talked about it. 

In denial, you grab your phone to send him a text, still motivated and refusing to believe your best friends.

Y/N: Hey, Jaeyun. Do you have any plans for tomorrow? JAEYUN: I’m surprised you texted me first. Already missing me, lovely? :)  Y/N: If I say I do? JAEYUN: Don’t tempt me into coming over to your place, lovely, because I'm this close. To answer your question, I’ll be hanging out with the guys, so I’ll see you around campus on Thursday.

As you and Jake continue the conversation, giggles occasionally emit from you, making you feel giddy just by texting him alone and him flirting with you through the text. Your best friends are wrong about him. Even you can tell how eager and attentive he is through his texts alone.

WINTER: I have some tea to spill. Y/N: What is it? I’m missing out on a good joke made by Jaeyun. WINTER:.....girl, as much as I would love to ship the two of you (because, trust me, y’all look so good with each other), Jake is actually an asshole. I’ll explain whenever we meet since I can't come to meet you tomorrow.

Your curiosity just grows tenfold, and you need to learn more about why she claimed that Jake is an asshole. The same Jake Sim, whose eyes are filled with kindness whenever he stares into yours, whose cheeky grin adorns his charming countenance that never fails to make your heart go fluttery.

Your attention is pulled by another text from Winter.

WINTER: You know what? I’m just going to tell you half of the tea here instead. I collected some information from two girls he slept with before. They warned about getting close to him, especially after fucking him, because he’d only lead you on, and once you fell for his trap, that’s when he’d completely ghost you. Essentially, love bombing you. Y/N: I don’t get it. Karina told me the same thing, but you girls don’t know him like I do. WINTER: Babe, you’ve just met him and got closer not too long ago. You should leave him before he leaves you instead. Do you know that word has it: he is clinically diagnosed with borderline personality disorder? It makes perfect sense why he is the way he is. Y/N: I don’t care what you all have to say, but I’m not gonna leave him.

You release an angry huff as you shut your phone before deciding to lie down on the bed. You hate how they all seem so adamantly insistent on trying to get you to leave Jake.

There is no denying that you are already emotionally attached to Sim Jaeyun, so you couldn’t help but defend him, but what struck you deeply was his kindness during your very first meeting with him. You recall his kind gaze and mirthful grin on his countenance when you first conversed with each other, and the sincerity in his tone when he wished you the best throughout your time in Crestview Meadows.

No, the Sim Jaeyun you know is not an asshole.

The familiar ringtone of your phone disrupts your train of thought. You lazily reach out to grab your phone, and when you see the ID caller on the screen, the frown on your lips transitions into a smile before you keenly accept his call and press your phone against your ear.

“Hey, I was wondering if you were okay.” Jake’s husky voice through your phone alone manages to send the familiar flutters to your heart. “You didn’t reply to my last text.”

“I’m fine, Jaeyun.” You tell him, your voice coming out soft. “I’m just tired. By the way, I forgot to thank you for the aftercare.”

“Anytime, Y/N. Besides, there is no way I would leave my girl just like that.” His breathy chuckles cause your smile to widen.

“Your girl?” You ask, playfulness tinges your voice.

Jake hums attractively. “That’s right. You’re my girl, Y/N.” You detect something dark and dangerous that belies his tone. “Get more sleep, yeah? I don’t want my girl to wake up completely lethargic tomorrow.”

“Okay, Jaeyun.” Little do you know that your obedience draws a wicked smirk on his lips.

Two days have passed since you ever had a proper conversation with your other three roommates, but it was mostly you avoiding them. As for Winter, she remains the same, but the judgement in her eyes didn’t go unnoticed by you when you hung out with her yesterday with Rei, Kazuha, and Giselle.

You have been ignoring the small voice in the back of your mind telling you that it isn’t worth it to strain your friendship with them for a man. 

They were wrong about Jake. Even when the next day arrived, he never failed to greet you through his texts and occasionally flirted with you, but you could see that he wanted to continue the conversation with you.

But the odd thing is, he hasn’t been replying to your texts since this morning. You tried calling him once, but it went into voicemail. All the while, your stomach churns with uneasiness.

Now you’re in quite a dilemma. What is your relationship with him? Are you his friends with benefits? Does he see you the way you see him? Does he want you the way you want him to?

Hence, you decide to put an end to all of these questions jumbling your mind by going on a little adventure to find Jake in the science, technological, and engineering building. Your keen eyes dart everywhere, looking for a certain male with long hair strands that you wish to skim your fingers through again.

Annoyance bubbles within you before you decide to muster courage and ask a familiar knight member strolling in your vicinity.

“Have you seen Jake?” You ask him, and your question has him raising his eyebrow.

His eyes scrutinise you for a minute. “He’s in our main quarter.” To your surprise, he nudges his head, beckoning you to follow him, and you do.

The way to the devil’s knights’ main quarter is confusing, but thankfully, it doesn’t take you more than fifteen minutes to reach.

“You’re lucky Heeseung and Sunghoon aren’t inside, or you’ll probably get kicked out by them.” He murmurs to you before opening the door for you.

You cast him a kind smile that caught him off guard. “Thanks, Beomgyu.”

Beomgyu blinks his eyes, faltering at the sight of your smile. “Uhh, you’re welcome?”

You look away from him and proceed to enter. Your jaw goes unhinged at how palatial their main quarter is, and it even consists of two floors. You spot a few knight members on the second floor, and your presence draws their attention to you, but your gaze is fixed intently on a certain someone who is capable of making your heart all fluttery.

But this time, your heart has a discernible crack. There is Jake, seated on the couch and in a heated lip-lock with a girl you don’t recognise. His hands are roaming around her body, reminding you of when he touched you like that. The sound of their lips smacking against each other seems to break your heart piece by piece.

“Y/N, did you find him?” Beomgyu’s voice can be heard from behind, but you are too busy reeling in heartbreak.

It appears that the volume of Beomgyu’s voice manages to reach Jake's ears as the latter pulls away from the kiss, and when his eyes lock with yours at the instant, your heart breaks even more at the lust glinting in his eyes that is meant for the girl in his possession.

“Jaeyun.” You utter his name numbly, and naturally, you expect him to panic and rush over to you to explain, but instead, a cold smirk is drawn on his swollen pink lips.

“What is she doing here, babe?” The girl on his lap glares at you, her lips curling into a sneer as she scans you from head to toe. The distaste is apparent in her gaze.

“How could you?” You manage to find your voice, but it comes out shaky as you refrain from getting emotional.

“How could I what?” His voice holds zero affection for you, and as you stare at him with glistening eyes, he looks entirely different from the Jake you know. His smirk persists while his eyes are filled with an unfamiliar coldness.

You hate how he is staring at you indifferently. It's like he's a stranger.

“I thought I meant something to you.” You say, and a painful lump is stuck in your throat. “I thought we had something─”

“Don’t be delusional, Y/N. Just because we fucked, you thought you meant something to me?” Jake’s cold chuckles sound foreign to you. He continues to gaze at you dangerously cold while his hand is stroking the girl’s waist, causing your tears to finally leak from your eyes. “You’re nothing special, Y/N. Besides, you’re not even close to being my type.”

“What is wrong with you?” You step forward as you clench a fist. “You’re not like this. You’re acting like a complete jerk now.”

Something dark and twisted lurks behind his eyes that you once loved to gaze at. “I told you before that you have no idea who I really am. Now get out and don’t forget to close the door, yeah?”

“Screw you.” You don’t even have time to be surprised by the hatred in your tone as you immediately dash out of their quarter, ignoring Beomgyu’s calling for you.

A sob is threatening to escape from you as more tears stream down your cheeks. The knights in your vicinity shoot you odd looks, but you are too distraught by your newfound heartbreak.

You thought you had something with him, especially when the two of you spent all night talking, texting, and flirting over the phone. You thought you were his girl.

You should have known that, at the end of the day, his playboy tendencies persist and that he will always be a womaniser. You should have listened to your best friends who did warn you, but just like Jake said earlier, you’re delusional.

Amidst the sadness, you wallow in self-hatred. Hatred for falling into his schemes and for allowing him to take away your virginity.

Your shoulder accidentally bumps into a figure, and just as you are about to walk past him, he grabs your arm firmly, prompting you to turn your head to look at him through your tearful eyes, your vision blurring with each blink.

“What are you doing here by our quarter?” Sunghoon’s cold voice doesn’t even deter you, as does the clear distaste in his expression towards you. But the moment he sees your eyes red and slightly swollen from the crying, something stirs within him that feels foreign. It almost feels like he feels sympathetic for you.

“What happened?” He finds himself asking this, and he has no idea why. His grip on your arm becomes tight.

“Don’t act like you care.” You sniffle, refraining from ugly sobbing in front of the very person who hates your guts. Once his grip feels loose, you yank your arm from his grasp and flee the knights’ territory, leaving Sunghoon curious about what happened to you.

As for you, your guilty conscience is gnawing at you to seek forgiveness once more, and when the next day arrives, you find yourself entering the familiar church with bloodshot eyes, an obvious sign that you had been crying all night.

Your best friends were right. The Sim Jaeyun you know now is, in fact, an asshole.

TAGLIST: @aishigrey @kgneptun @b3tt7boop @smg-valeria @lhspeachie @enhaverse713586 @strxwbloody @firstclassjaylee @jwnghyuns @luminouskalopsia @deobitifull @loumin908 @sousydive @pinkkami @skzenhalove @caravm @shinrjj @loljaeyunz @star4rin  @darkjongsung @mlywon @yorukoshii @nshmrarki @lol6sposts @lilyuwon @enha-crumbs @slut4hee @capri-cuntz

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Hidden relationship - Samuel Lafferty x fem!reader

It was a day in the small village when everyone had been assigned a place in the church and knew where to sit. The families with their children running around outside before the service began. The Sunday service, the pensioners who were happy to see their friends and grandchildren, the neighbors who brought cakes, there was an exuberant atmosphere.

A mood that also applied to the young woman, who seemed to be an isolated case in the small community of the Lafferty family. A family that goes far, far back in history.

Especially the head of the family, the pastor of the congregation, and his sons, who all worked in business or were family men on the side, or like his son Samuel, the aspiring priest and preacher of the congregation, who took over his father's ministry after he had gone on a pilgrimage.

But the congregation was sheltered, and that was what mattered… if it hadn't been for the shadow of lust that settled over the church every Sunday when the priest went into the confessional.

He waited in the box and waited until he saw his favorite, his beautiful angel. The wood, which had small slits, always made him feel like a stalker, but wasn't he already a stalker?

The sweet smell settled on the wood when she came in. The sacred little place that was inside the larger one was desecrated. Her eyes settled on the dark black clothes, the white shirt, the stiff collar, just as stiff and rigid as his cock as he awaited her. His holiness was destroyed with his lust for her, long gone from what it once was. Marriage to his "real" wife no longer brought incrimination or demand when he took his angel.

She knew he desired her during the service, a commonality in the crowd that considered carnal pleasure between them a sin. When her shoes carried her through the church, she wore the clothes he had secretly given her. The package arrived at her door in a "divine" way.

As Sam blessed her she walked forward to him, his fingers lingered on her lips as he gave her the wafer, his voice was rough and commanding but he always was.

It was just the two of them. His hands on her body, his eyes on her body, under her dress. The light fabric, just right for summer, lay against her skin, sheer and so arousing.

Her skin, immediately touched by his lips, his murmured sounds praising her. ,,Such a God-made beauty," he murmured, his breath hot and soaked with wine. It was an open secret that he only had a steady hand when he drank alcohol and indulged in madness like his brothers. But she was the only worldly thing he needed. She was his.

She felt him turn her and her hands just managed to brace themselves against the wood to catch herself. He grew needier for her with each passing mass. ,,Slowly-Sam…please," she replied, feeling herself gasp as he lifted her dress for a moment. He was cold, not warm and landing as a holy one should be.

But that was all she wanted, to lose herself in his coldness while he lost himself in her warmth. She heard him sigh, relieved and longing, as he stroked his fingers almost tenderly over her bare back.

He examined her soft skin and saw the marks he had left behind last weekend. Her bra had apparently never been worn to church like he wanted.

The bite marks and the marks the sucking had left on her breasts were still visible, but all he had to do was turn her over. She knew exactly how he liked the way her hands clung to him when he took her. Taking out his lust on her like his "real" wife ever could. It was a moment they both needed. But most of all, he needed her now.

He let his hands wander over her back once more before he pulled down her lacy underwear and gave her a slap that made her moan with excitement and surprise. ,,Rude for a priest like you," she murmured before she heard the zipper and his apologetic kiss on her shoulder. He would never surprise her like that, he was just too…gentle.

Only seconds later, he entered her without restraint and the moan that came from her lips was muffled by his hand. His own gasp as he was finally buried in her cunt again. ,,Fuck ood-quietly, darling," he murmured, pressing himself against her as he followed his rhythm of unbridled lust, entangling her in a kiss as they both had to contort themselves for lack of space.

But it didn't matter, the forbiddenness was there every time they finished. His gasp, the aroused look, drunk with power, the bright blue of his eyes on her.

He sat her firmly on the chair each time and looked at her exhausted body before stroking her head and engaging her in a kiss of praise. ,Sam-Samuel really… now" she murmured, leaning her head against the cool wood as she saw what he was up to. The priest had not yet feasted enough on his sheep.

He kissed his way up her legs, leaving more marks on her skin before disappearing under her dress. His name moaned across her lips as he sucked at her center like a greedy demon, lapping up the mixture of his juices and hers.

Sensitive and trembling, she worried, but even though the church bells rang that noon had arrived, she knew Sam was far from finished. The sins were still unconfessed and the priest had not forgotten his own demons in her body.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

masterlist

Info : Hope atleast you enjoyed it...slowly coming back into writting :)

@angelsanarchy , @icarus-star , @loljustignoreth4t , @roryculkinsgf , @walking-dead-corpse , @k1ll3rh0rr0r

[bloglophop]

“Church light blue.”

Mila and Law reflect on their upbringings and their relationships to faith.

ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ🏥🐇་༘࿐

Content: NSFW, OC x Canon, OC x Trafalgar Law, alludes to blowjobs/sex but no explicit sexual content, Law’s backstory warning, child abuse, emotional abuse

Song: Stay soft by Mitski

ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ

Law remembers Sundays.

Hand in hand in hand in hand, four was not just a crowd, but also a family- his family, together in a church pew.

He hears them, still- his mother’s clear soprano cutting through every other voice in the choir, lifted higher by the lulling baritone of his father, ever the wind in his beloved wife’s sails.

His sister, who didn’t know the words yet, would swing Law’s hand in her sticky toddler palm, and think about things that had nothing to do with church, but everything to do with love.

Law prays that he never forgets her face.

He used to pray the same for his parents.

He hears their voices through his own when he sings, sometimes; one cracked note ringing out in the world’s loneliest quartet.

Mila remembers Sundays.

Her and her father in the back row of the congregation, her feet dangling off the wooden pew, little Mila would let her mind wander, soaking up every detail she could see in her attentiveness to the room.

She’d find ten church colours, one for herself and one for each of her brothers.

The pearl in the rosary, the yellow in the prayer pillow, the black in the book.

She would wonder why father took her to church and not the others, and then she would listen to the priest talk about sin, and realised she was the only one here because they must have been born pure, and she obviously still needed saving.

She would look down at the stone floor a few inches from her feet and think about hell, then look up at her father and wonder if he also worried about going to heaven.

Law remembers losing his faith and his heart, and then finding them both returned to him at once by a celestial who bore less of a resemblance to a dragon, and more of a resemblance to an angel.

A man who died so that Law could live. Jesus with a harlequin face.

Law was the son- Cora was his father, and then forever his Holy Ghost.

Mila doesn’t just remember sin, she can taste it. Carbolic soap scrubbed roughly across her tongue as her father tells her over and over that she’s wrong, wrong, wrong, and he can only stand her when she’s right, right, right.

She sees soap bubble white and kitchen sink grey and father’s anger red.

She doesn’t just remember sin, she can feel it, stinging on her cheek in the shape of a hand. Marked out as a wrongdoer and a dunce, she stands facing the wall with a book on her head, the watchful eyes of her brothers burning more viciously into her than being struck ever could.

In adulthood, Law throws his faith furiously at the ceiling, but Mila keeps hers clasped between her hands.

Her knees are kept black and blue from hitting the hard wood floor in prayer, either alone or at Law’s feet. It feels like being answered when she does it with him. It feels like being clean.

Law doesn’t believe in much of anything anymore, except his heart, which is everything. He doesn’t wait for signs anymore; he makes them, and when his hands turn up to heaven in front of Mila for the first time, she almost weeps, because she’s been right to believe in him all this time.

The colour of his Room is church light blue.

[recovering-catholic]

Catholic Gothic ft. Eldest Daughter Syndrome

You sit at the front of the church every Sunday. Everyone knows your family. You're the eldest daughter of the biggest family in the parish. The doctor's family is nearly as large, but they are all boys. Your father wants to pair you off with their eldest son.

Your Uncle John is a priest in a nearby city. Your parish priest knows him well.

Everyone leaves their coats on, as though they want to be able to leave in a hurry. What are they afraid of?

How long have you been in the parish hall for? Minutes or hours? It always seems the same. You are having the same conversations you had last week, last month, next year. Nothing changes, and the coffee is always burnt.

Your father is the best lector in the congregation. He speaks very well and commands the attention of everyone in the church. You decide you want to be a lector when you’re a grown up.

Everyone knows your family. You sit at the front of the church every Sunday. Everyone remarks on how well-behaved and devout you and your siblings are. You're the eldest daughter. You're tall for your age. You're a big help.

There is a man in your parish who was struck by lightning during the big tornado in the 80s. He walks shakily and speaks with a stutter, but he is always smiling. He says he was wicked before the storm, and that God struck him with lightning and then saved him.

It’s Good Friday. All of the statues are draped in dark fabric. There is no holy water. You know there will be no holy water. You have been Catholic your whole life. Every year, there is no holy water on the day the statues wear black. And yet you still try to bless yourself and are surprised when you come up dry.

It’s Good Friday. The Gospel is so long on Good Friday, but it would be wicked to complain. The Gospel is always a skit on the day the statues wear black, a kind of weird charade that is the same year after year. The priests and deacons and lectors all read for different characters. You, the congregation, are to be the crowd. You are Peter denying the Lord before the rooster crows. You are calling out for Barabas to be set free. You are the voice of doubt, of wickedness, of sin. The day the statues wear black, the day the holy water runs dry, is the day that you are reminded over and over again how dirty, broken, and bad you are. The day you need the holy water most is the day it is nowhere to be found.

You’re tall for your age. You’re only 12 but look and act much older. You’re the eldest daughter of the biggest family in the parish. Everyone who comes to church regularly knows that. You are in the parish hall holding your baby sister on your hip while your mother goes to the washroom because you're a big help. You are talking to your father while he sips his coffee with too much cream and sugar to cover up the burnt taste. You feel people staring at you. You do not recognize the old women, but you feel judgement in their gazes. You feel the whispers more than you hear them. They think you are your sister’s mother. They think you are a teenage mother. You keep your head held high and let them think whatever they want. Besides, if they came to church with any regularity they would know you, the eldest daughter of the biggest family in the parish, you're tall for your age and you're a big help.

There is a man sitting at a table in the parish hall after mass, giving out flyers. He gives your kid sister a lollipop. You realize as she unwraps it that there is a picture of a fetus imprinted onto it. You feel slightly ill but sip your burnt coffee and say nothing.

The usher for your section of the church is too friendly with you. You catch him looking at you too long as you pass the collection basket down the pew. When he approaches you in the parish hall, you feel a shiver in your spine even though the hall is full. Despite his age, his face is very smooth, like wax. You are never alone with him. You wish that your father wouldn’t talk to him anymore, but remind yourself that he has to - he is the best lector in the congregation, and the wax man has been an usher for decades. So you just smile. You’re the eldest daughter of the biggest family in the parish, after all. Everyone knows you.

You come home from university. Your sister is turning 12 but she's tall for her age, just like you were. You see the wax man looking at her and you feel rage boiling in your blood.

You're supposed to look your best at church. You've been raised to know this. You're the eldest daughter of the biggest family in the parish and everyone will see you in the front pew. You must look your best in the house of the Lord. You're in the washroom before Mass making sure your lipstick isn't smudged. The old women tell you "once you're my age, you'll be focused on your rosary, not your lipstick". But you are trying to look your best before the Lord. Your family always sits in the first pew and everyone will see you. The pews have eyes.

Every year on Mother's Day, there are roses for sale in the parish hall. Each rose is a toonie. You make sure you have lots of toonies and give one to each of your siblings. One year, you're home from university. You realize the proceeds from the roses go to the crisis pregnancy centre that gave out the fetus lollipops. You don't give your sisters any toonies.

You get to church early to walk the Stations of the Cross. You come to the end to find yourself back at the beginning. You walk the Stations of the Cross again. They never end. You are stuck in this parade of gore. It was all for you. You walk the Stations of the Cross. It was all for you. All for you. You didn't ask for it but it was all for you.

The candles for intentions are always lit under the watchful eye of Mother Mary. She watches them all night to make sure they do not burn down the church. Sometimes you think she is watching you too. The pews have eyes. You ask your parents how they do not burn down the church. It is because the flames are holy.

Guilt is your mother tongue. Shame was your first language. For what, you don't know. For you.

It's Christmas. You haven't darkened the door of your home parish in a year. They have a new priest. Of course he knows your family well by now. You always sit in the first pew. What is better, you wonder: to commit the mortal sin of taking the Eucharist in a state of apostasy and have no one know but yourself or not to take it and feel the eyes upon you? You choose the latter even though you don't believe in the former. The priest watches you, your father's daughter, as you place your hand over your heart respectfully - the universal sign that you won't take the Eucharist. He watches you all the way back to the first pew where you kneel, square your shoulders, and meet his eye.

[admistedenslush]

Devil In Disguise -

Priest!Aemond Targaryen/Reader

Tw: blasphemy?,fem!reader

━━━━━━━━━ 𐕣 ━━━━━━━━━

With a heart heavy with remorse, a penitent spoke the words, “Father, bless me, for I have sinned.”

In a voice of calm understanding, Father Aemond replied, “Of course, my child.”

It had been two endless years since their last confession, and as their hands clasped tightly onto the rusted iron of the gate, Aemond's gaze locked with the penitent's eyes. In that fleeting moment, their eyes shimmered red, peering into the depths of his very soul.

“You, Father, are no servant of Christ. Your place is among the infernal depths,” the words hissed from their lips in a sinister, demonic tone. “I see the taint that stains your heart. Embrace it. Join me.”

With an effortless motion, the creature swung open the barred window, inviting darkness into the sacred sanctuary.

Trembling with fear, Aemond clenched his Bible tightly in his hands.

“In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen. Begone, demon! Your rebellion ends here!” His voice quivered as he spoke, but his faith remained unyielding.

All his efforts were in vain, as the malevolence finally reached him. The chilling sound of a cackle resounded in his ears, followed by the haunting words," My arrogant and vain son.”

Aemond's eyes snapped open with an abruptness that left him gasping for air, drenched in a cold sweat. Startled and shaken by the vividness of the nightmare that had gripped him, he quickly sat up, his heart pounding in his chest.

Seeking solace and grounding in the present, he rose from his bed and made his way towards the bathroom. As he splashed cold water on his face, he braved a look into the mirror, hoping to find reassurance in his own reflection.

There, gazing back at him was a visage filled with remnants of fear and unease. The sleepless nights and the weight of his burdens were etched on his face, lines creeping across his forehead and shadows darkening the hollows beneath his eyes.

For a moment, he wondered if the torments of his nightmare had truly left him or if they still lurked within, ready to pounce at the slightest weakness. Yet, a flicker of determination in his weary eyes affirmed his resilience and resolve. Aemond straightened his back, steeling himself against the lingering shadows, determined to face whatever darkness lay ahead.

Whispering to no one but his own thoughts, Aemond breathed the words, "Let only the fear of God consume you."

In the heart of the small town, the church stood as a steadfast pillar of community for Aemond. Week after week, he conducted masses and forged strong bonds with the families who called this place their spiritual haven. But on this fateful day, amidst the predictability, an unexpected sight caught him off guard - a newcomer.

Dressed in your finest Sunday dress, you stood out from the crowd with an air of quiet confidence. Aemond couldn't help but be intrigued by this anomaly amidst the familiar faces he knew so well. He observed you from across the room, your posture radiating grace.

What captured his attention the most, however, was the cross necklace gently nestled in your bosom.

As he continued with the ceremony, his thoughts momentarily wandered, glimpses of you slipping into his mind. He couldn't deny the stirrings of attraction that tugged at him, though he quickly dismissed them as an inconsequential distraction.

"Get ready to administer communion. Wait for the usher to instruct your row to come forward."

The congregation eagerly approached the altar to receive the sacred body of Christ. Despite his years of experience, Father Aemond couldn't help but feel a hint of nervousness.

Perhaps it was the young girl in the crowd that caused these fleeting thoughts. She was likely just visiting family or on vacation, but why choose this humble neighborhood as a destination? It certainly had its charm, but it wasn't exactly a top travel spot on most people's list.

Distributing the unleavened bread to the faithful felt like second nature to Father Aemond. The familiar words effortlessly flowed from his lips, until it was your turn to receive communion. Aemond unintentionally bit his cheek, his nerves tightening.

,, Body of Christ.”

"Amen," you said, and Aemond knees almost gave out.

The trembling priest offered you the Communion wafer and delicately set it on your outstretched pink tongue. You gazed at him with drowsy eyes, resembling the allure of a siren.

Emerging from his spell, the priest handed you a chalice.

"The blood of Christ," he whispered, almost breathlessly.

" Amen," you smiled, taking a sip of the wine. A bit of the liquid escaped your lips, trickling down your chin.

Aemond's gaze fixated on the wine as it carelessly dripped down the corners of your mouth. So distracted was he by the crimson trail that he didn't even notice when you offered the cup back to him.

"Are you alright, Father?" you inquired, breaking through his reverie.

Startled, Aemond jerked embarrassingly, his attention recapturing you in all your presence. He finally registered your outstretched hand, waiting patiently to return the chalice.

"Yes, yes, quite well. Excuse me," the priest responded hastily, momentarily brushing your fingertips as he retrieved the cup. With a feeling of unexpected warmth from the brief touch, you turned back towards your seat, leaving Aemond to collect his composure.

As the rites concluded, people hastily gave their donations and made their way out. A few lingered by the door, eager to exchange a quick greeting with their priest.

"Mr. Targaryen, what a stunning ceremony it was! That part with the eye and your victorious struggle alongside God—it was simply incredible!"

Aemond's warm smile extended towards both her and the lively group, but as she expressed her desire to introduce someone, her attention shifted. "You absolutely have to meet my daughter," she eagerly revealed, her words brimming with excitement. "She recently returned from college and has a few months off. And-"

As you strolled into view, your radiant smile captured the attention of everyone around. It was no surprise that Aemond couldn't tear his gaze away from you. Finally, someone who could breathe life into this stagnant town. He almost felt jealous.

"Yes, I have returned to visit my beloved parents," you announced, your voice carrying a mix of warmth and a hint of sarcasm.

"But let me tell you the most astonishing news,Father! My dear daughter confessed that she no longer intends to attend church. Can you even imagine? My poor nerves… I decided to bring her to meet you on Sunday, Father.”

Aemond glanced back at you, his curiosity evident in his eyes.

"You're not religious?" he ventured to ask.

"Well, yes and no," you replied, a hint of hesitation in your voice. "I've sort of gotten sidetracked with it all. Been really busy, you know."

Your words hung in the air, sparking a vivid blend of intrigue and interest within Aemond.

"Yes, Father, but fear not! We shall rectify this," your mother proclaimed with determination. "I intend for her to make a confession and continue joining in Mass on every Sunday. Together, we will guide her back onto the path of faith."

Father Aemond warmly extended his invitation, assuring, "Your daughter is always welcome for confession." He made a conscious effort to maintain eye contact with you, avoiding any unintentional glances downwards.

"Perfect! She will come in tomorrow without fail!"

You arrived promptly for confession, settling into your seat within the church. Breaking away from the expectations of your mother, you daringly chose to wear a white dress that hugged your figure, maybe a touch too short for her taste. However, your desire to appear striking before Father Aemond drove your unconventional choice.

You definitely noticed that the priest was riled up because of you.

The so called "man of God"

All men are the same, no matter what their profession, even if it is the priesthood.

The peaceful sounds of a gentle creek echoed within the humble walls of the church, signaling the arrival of Father Aemond. Without making a sound, you subtly turned your face towards him and greeted him with a sly smile. As you met his eyes, you could see a hint of anticipation in his chest as it rose and fell ever so slightly.

You stood up, purposefully straightening your dress, feeling Father Aemond's eyes subtly drifting down to your legs.

"Good morning, Father," you greeted, your voice carrying a cordial tone.

"Mmh, morning," Father Aemond acknowledged, his voice slightly husky.

"You're rather early," he noted, a hint of curiosity slipping into his words.

"Punctuality is the virtue of the bored," you replied with a playful smirk, a glint of mischief dancing in your eyes.

"Shall we begin?" Father Aemond suggested, his voice laced with a gentle encouragement. "I imagine you're familiar with how the confession process works. Please take a seat in the booth."

The priest motioned you into the confessional.

"Bless me Father, for I have sinned. It has been maybe 2 years since my last confession?"

Aemond's grip tightened on his thighs, a rush of uneasiness sweeping over him. This situation felt like a test, he thought, almost with a touch of resignation. The dream and the girl, it was you all along. How could he not have recognized this sooner?

"Go on," Aemond rumbled, his voice gruff with anticipation.

"Well," you began, your voice softening slightly, "I've been dealing with my own struggles. I must confess that I've indulged in gluttony and lustful behavior over the past year. It's difficult to explain lightly."

Your remorseful act was almost laughable, tempting a hint of amusement to bubble within you.

"God won't judge you," Aemond assured, his voice a soothing anchor in the midst of your vulnerability.

"Will you?" you asked, a giggle dancing upon your lips, adding a touch of playfulness as you awaited his response.

But no response came from Father Aemond, prompting a furrowed brow on your part. Suddenly, the partition on your side of the confessional opened, revealing Father Aemond with tightly clenched fists. As you glanced up at him, your signature sweet smile played upon your lips. It was a smile reminiscent of biting into honeycomb - deceptively saccharine, almost overwhelmingly so, with the potential to leave a lingering headache. Aemond couldn't help but contemplate the hidden motives behind that disarming expression.

"I know why you're here," Aemond said, shaking his head disapprovingly.

"I'm here to confess, Father, what else?" you responded, confusion evident in your voice.

"No, no. You're here to tempt me. This is all a test," the priest accused.

You couldn't help but burst into laughter at his accusation. But before the laughter could subside, Father Aemond swiftly grabbed your neck, cutting off the sound, a stern expression on his face as he choked out your amusement.

He released you after a second, his hand hesitantly slipping away from your neck. Contrary to the expected response, fear was not the emotion that coursed through you. Instead, an unsettling mixture of excitement and arousal stirred within you, causing your thighs to instinctively clench.

Father Aemond, having clearly noticed your unusual creation, couldn't help but be taken aback. His lips curved ever so slightly upwards, a mingling of surprise in his expression.

"You absolute minx," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. With a deliberate motion, Father Aemond clasped the confessional booth shut behind him, sealing the space between you both.

━━━━━━━━━ 𐕣 ━━━━━━━━━

@valleyof-goldenlilies

@chainsawsangel

[bumblesimagines]

The Sun and Moon

Part 11

Request: Yes or No

~~~

"It is quite kind of Her Majesty to host such an event at the palace. I mean, not even the Duke of Hastings got such an opportunity!"

"That is because he and his bride wished for a quick and quiet ceremony, Mother." (Y/N) reminded her gently. Lucy hummed absentmindedly, fingertips softly scratching against her sons' arm as she marveled over the decorations. As always, Her Majesty had outdone herself, but nothing less could be expected from a woman like her. She demanded the best of the best in every single thing, no matter how small. 

The soft sound of a harp welcomed the Granvilles into the chapel and Henry released an impressed hum. (Y/N) wished he had a clear enough mind to truly take in the beautiful decor, but his mind and heart refused to focus on anything. Anthonys' dreaded wedding day had finally arrived and while (Y/N) had woken up with a good mindset, the minute they had arrived at the palace he had found his stomach in knots. His skin felt warm, abnormally so. Digging his fingers into his palm, (Y/N) cleared his throat and forced a smile for Violet as she approached him. 

"Mr. and Mrs. Granville! I'm so glad you could make it." Violet smiled widely, though it didn't reach her eyes. Nerves, perhaps? It was her eldest sons' wedding. 

"We wouldn't dream of missing it, Lady Bridgerton," Lucy replied, reaching out to take Violet's hand. Violet placed her other hand over Lucy's and smiled, giving the family a nod before moving on to greet more guests. (Y/N) felt his father pat his back twice and sighed softly, following his parents to a pew. Lucy released him and sat down first, watching her husband sit down beside her before she leaned in to whisper, motioning to the decorations. (Y/N) lingered in the aisle, glancing back toward the entrance before he sat at the end. He swallowed the lump in his throat as more and more guests arrived and took their seats until eventually, everyone was seated and the music began. 

(Y/N) fidgeted with his fingers, hearing the soft sound of shoes clicking against the floor and a body moved past him. He stared at the wooden pew in front of him, toying with his glove before he lifted his gaze. Anthony bowed before Queen Charlotte before taking his spot on the left side of the archbishop. Anthony looked toward his family first before he met (Y/N)s gaze. (Y/N) turned his head away from him and looked back at Kate as she walked. She looked at him and her lips quirked into a pitiful yet supportive smile, eyes softening as she passed him. She curtsied before Her Majesty and stood off to the archbishops' right. She glanced at Anthony, gaze hardening for a moment.

"There she is.." (Y/N) heard his mother whisper and he shifted, standing up alongside his parents as Edwina walked down the aisle, hand in hand with her mother. The guests marveled at her beauty and Edwinas' happiness was enough to make a smile tug at (Y/N)s' lips. Such a pure, kind soul. (Y/N) couldn't bring himself to find a single fault in her, even as she stood in front of Anthony and smiled at him. 

"Please be seated." The archbishop's voice bounced off the walls, echoing through the large room. He waited for everyone to be seated before continuing. "Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God, and in the face of this congregation, to join together this man and this woman in holy matrimony. And therefore, it is not by any to be enterprise, nor taken in hand, unadvisedly, lightly, and wantonly to satisfy men's carnal lusts and appetites..."

(Y/N) bit the inside of his cheek and shifted slightly in his seat, unable to get comfortable. He felt Henry subtly press his arm against his in an attempt to bring him some comfort, though it did little to calm him. He made eye contact with Anthony again and he held it this time, the tight-lipped smile on Anthony's face shifting into a frown. They hadn't spoken in the night at the Bridgertons' house and (Y/N) doubted they'd ever speak again, especially after the harsh words he'd thrown at him. But a part of him wanted to speak with him, to ask him, to hear him out. Even if it hurt.

"My lord?" Anthonys' head snapped toward the archbishop and he blinked, looking at Edwina before he gazed back at (Y/N). (Y/N) pressed his lips together when Edwina glanced back at him, her brows furrowing. He could see the wheels begin to turn in her head and it seemed Kate had noticed too, her fingers anxiously toying with the jewelry around her wrists. One suddenly unlatched and fell to the ground with a soft clang, drawing Anthonys' attention. Before Kate could crouch down to pick it up, Anthony stepped forward, head lifting to look at (Y/N) as he picked it up. Edwina watched him closely and when she noticed Anthony looking at the painter once more, her grip on her bouquet loosened. 

"Thank you, My Lord," Kate whispered as Anthony handed her back her bracelet but her eyes remained solely on her sister, eyes almost pleading as Edwina's breathing became heavy and irregular. 

"Miss Edwina-"

"I need a moment!" She stepped away from Anthony, glancing back at (Y/N) before racing down the aisle. Her mother and sister were quick to run after her as loud murmuring filled the air, followed by the loud sound of fireworks going on. (Y/N) focused on the pew in front of him again and released a shaky breath. 

"This is why I warned you, time and time again." His father muttered quietly. Disappointment. "Because people get hurt. I taught you better than this."

Silently rising from the pew, (Y/N) joined the guests leaving the chapel and headed up the stairs, aimlessly walking until he found an empty room to occupy. He shut the doors behind him and sniffled, his fathers' words and tone echoing in his mind as he walked further into the small room, the hot tears slipping down his face. He sniffled and inhaled deeply, resting his hands on the desk at the end of the room as he tried to calm himself. 

He'd spent half his childhood trying to make his father proud, trying to keep him happy so he wouldn't leave on another trip around the world. To disappoint him after so many years... And poor Edwina. Such a sweet and gentle soul. Her wide, warm eyes filled with shock.

"Fuck." (Y/N) grunted, slipping his gloves off and throwing them on the floor. Furiously wiping away the tears that refused to stop, he continued to breathe in and out until the doors suddenly opened and closed. He spun around and stared at an equally surprised Kate. One of her bracelets slipped from her fingers and fell to the ground before the other one followed. She stared at him and took two slow steps forward. 

"She knows," Kate whispered, quickening her pace and throwing her arms around (Y/N), a sob shaking her body. "She knows and she hates me."

"Who? Edwina?"

"Yes!" Kate wailed, knees giving out from underneath her. (Y/N) quickly wrapped his arms around her waist and crouched down, moving onto his knees and gently setting Kate down. The brunette sobbed and buried her face into his neck, hiccuping softly.

"Kate, she could never hate you." (Y/N) assured her and pulled back to cup her warm, tear-stained cheeks. "You are her sister. You love her and she loves you, she knows that. She's angry, yes, but it will pass. You have not wronged her, not like Anthony and I have."

"I kept it from her. I should've told her and saved her the heartbreak and embarrassment. Her face... She looked destroyed, (Y/N)." Kate shook her head, strands of hair sticking to her face. She brought her knees up to her chests and wrapped her arms around them, squeezing her eyes shut and forcing more tears down her face. 

"I know... She's hurting right now. It will hurt for days, weeks... Months, even. But she won't be mad at you for long. She's just taking her anger out on you for now cause she's overwhelmed. She does not hate you, Kate. She may say it or think it right now, but in her heart, she loves you. She just needs space and time to take everything in." He wiped the tears away and placed his hand on her shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Breathe, Kate."

Taking in a few deep breaths and exhaling, Kate slowly calmed herself down enough for the tears to stop. She gently rubbed her cheeks, drying her skin with the fabric of her gloves. "And how are you?"

"Not well." He responded with a sigh. "But just like you, I'll feel better soon."

"This is all his fault." 

"And mine." (Y/N) added softly, raising his brows at her. Kate parted her lips to object but ultimately said nothing, looking away instead and sighing with a small nod.

"Come on, Kate." (Y/N) rose from the dusty floor, offering Kate his hand and pulling her up alongside him. He smiled at her and brushed back some of her hair strands. It'd only be a matter of time before someone went looking for them, and if they were to be found alone... Well, they'd be the ones getting married. 

"I'll go first and after a few seconds, you can come out." (Y/N) instructed, taking her hands in his and squeezing them gently. 

With a soft sigh, (Y/N) retrieved his gloves from the floor and exited the room, stepping out into the hallway as he wiped the dust away from his gloves. He glanced down one end of the hall in search of his parents before looking down the other end, only to see Anthony. (Y/N)s' eyes widened slightly and when Anthony began walking towards him, he stumbled back into the hallway and toward the room, throwing the door open. 

"(Y/N), what-"

"Go, go!" (Y/N) quickly pushed Kate deeper into the room and shut the door but his silent prayer went unheard as the door opened and Anthony stared at the two in bewilderment.

"Oh." Kate breathed.

"What are you two doing alone again?" Anthony questioned, gently shutting the door to not draw any attention before facing them. 

"This is our place of refuge."

"A closet?" He furrowed his brows and Kate scoffed softly.

"Yes, now, please go." Kate walked toward him and the door, reaching for the doorknob but Anthony quickly stepped in front of her to prevent her from reaching it. 

"No, we must speak. All of us." 

"I have nothing to say to you-"

"I just spoke with Miss Edwina. She was harsher than I knew her capable of being. I concede I do not know her as well as you do, Kate, which is why you must do something." Anthony said, looking down at Kate, expression soft and pleading. Kate's shoulders slumped and she turned away from him, shaking her head.

"What would you have me do, My Lord? More plotting and scheming? It seems my sister has finally become wise to it all. In one way... I should feel quite proud." Kate said with a sad smile, wrapping her arms around herself and looking back at Anthony. He frowned and scoffed softly.

"So, you intend to cease to help her and hide in a closet as she ruins her life?"

"She's not ruining her life, Anthony. Edwina is simply doing what she wants, instead of what you want. If she wishes to put an end to this whole mess then so be it. She has a choice, she sees that now. She certainly doesn't need you intervening because you're upset someone finally realized what type of person you truly are." (Y/N) spat. Anthony swallowed and lowered his gaze, shutting his eyes briefly before looking back up at him. 

"Give us a moment, Miss Sharma." 

"No, Kate, stay-" (Y/N) stepped toward Kate but Anthony grabbed his arm to stop him.

"Please." He pleaded softly. (Y/N) grinded his teeth together and looked him in the eye. The questions he had could be answered, but he could also risk being left with even more doubts. Tearing his eyes away from Anthony and looking back at Kate, he pursed his lips and shook his head, tugging his arm free.

"You've had many chances, Anthony. I will not be made a fool by you again." (Y/N) stated and brushed past him, thrusting the doors open and stepping out. He felt his breathing go uneven and he made his way downstairs, entering the now empty and quiet chapel. Relieved with no one in sight, (Y/N) took slow steps forward and settled down on one of the pews. 

He'd been one of the few to never attend a service. All the times he'd stepped into a church were to speak to the priests about a painting or to witness a wedding. Even if he had wanted to, the servants were the only ones who could take him as his parents were too busy. His father off on his travels or entertained by a younger man and his mother occupying herself by hosting her friends. A lonesome childhood. One that may have resulted in his desire to please others, to forgive them, to be kind. 

(Y/N) sat there, for hours it felt, before he heard footsteps clicking down the aisle. He turned in his seat and sighed when he saw Anthony. He rose from the pew, one hand gripping the back of it as he frowned. 

"What do you want?"

"Did you not send for me?"

"What?" (Y/N)s' brows furrowed. His eyes shifted onto Kate as she entered the chapel as well, looking between them in utter confusion. She cleared her throat and clasped her hands in front of her, taking slow steps forward. 

"You sent for me, (Y/N)?"

"I-" (Y/N) felt his breath hitch in his throat when he spotted Edwina entering after Kate. She held her head high, still clad in her long white dress. Her face, once bright and happy, now usually stoic and devoid of emotion. She stopped in the middle of the aisle, letting her eyes sweep over her sister and fiancé.

"I have made my decision." She announced. "I thought it best you all hear it from me." 

"Edwina, we should speak in private," Kate interjected but Edwina ignored her and walked forward.

"I cannot marry you, Lord Bridgerton. You cannot provide me with what it is that I want. What it is that I deserve." Edwina glowered, jaw clenched and eyes full of fire. "What everyone deserves." She added, this time more softly as she looked at (Y/N). Her features hardened once more and she looked back at Anthony. "I may not know exactly what true love feels like but I certainly know what it is not. It is not deception or wandering eyes, or a role to be fulfilled. I cannot marry you because I cannot betray myself. You will never meet my eyes in the same manner you met Mr. Granville's on that altar today. You will never... You will never look at me the same way."

With a shaky breath, Edwina turned away from Anthony and faced her sister. "You say you have spent your life trying to give me everything I lacked, but really, you simply gave me everything you really wanted for yourself, as though my life were not my own. I did not ask for any of it, Kate! So, today, I can be sure that what I leave behind is not my loss. It is yours. You say you tried shielding me, protecting me from the truth when truly, you were just protecting yourself. Today, you have lost your power while I have made up my own mind. And that is victory enough for me." Inhaling softly, she began making her way toward the exit before abruptly stopping and looking at (Y/N) over her shoulder.

"Despite my lack of knowledge when it comes to true love, I know that when I find it, he will not keep me a secret." (Y/N) watched her disappear behind the drapes, her words feeling like a punch to the gut. (Y/N) dug his teeth into his bottom lip and turned his head to look at Anthony, fingers digging into the wood of the pew. 

"I must..." Kate swallowed, blinking away unshed tears and grasping at her dress, lifting it barely off the ground and quickly going after Edwina. 

A moment of silence passed, the two men standing still, unable to form the right words. Anthony could feel the silence choking him. Once upon a time, he found the silence pleasing and comfortable. Now, all he wanted to do was hear (Y/N)s' voice, even if it meant being screamed at. But instead, (Y/N) turned toward him with a sad smile.

"If we hadn't met if we hadn't spoken... If we had been smarter... None of this would've happened. You would've been celebrating your marriage right now." (Y/N) spoke, voice barely audible. "You would've been happy with a bride at your side and-"

"No." Anthony breathed and shook his head. He took long strides, brows forming wrinkles on his forehead as he took (Y/N)s' hands in his own, wrapping his fingers around them and holding them to his chest. "I wouldn't have been happy. Not in a million years."

"Anthony, I... I care for you. But I know that while I can give you what you want, I cannot give you what you need. You're a Bridgerton... The first-born son who needs an heir to carry on the family name and legacy. You've said it countless times before. You and I burned but like any flame, we would've gone out sooner or later. It's time we put this thing between us to rest, for the sake of our families and our sanity." (Y/N) leaned forward, pressing his lips against Anthonys'. He didn't allow the kiss to last for long, knowing it'd be harder to pull apart if it did. Resting his forehead against Anthonys, he sighed softly.

"It was nice while it lasted... My Lord."

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"What a scandal." 

"Not now, Steph." (Y/N) grunted, the tip of his pencil breaking against the paper. He cursed softly under his breath and leaned back in the bench, fingers rubbing the side of his temple. A headache had settled in the previous day and no matter how much tea he drank or how much fresh air he got, it refused to budge. An inconvenience he didn't need in the slightest. 

"It hasn't gone away? Perhaps you're getting sick." Stephanie mused, tapping her folded fan against her clothed thigh. 

"Perhaps." He muttered. Stephanie reached over and wrapped her arm around his, gently coaxing him up.

"Then we shall cut this walk short. I wouldn't want you pushing yourself too much." (Y/N) nodded, closing his sketchbook and holding it against his hip as he stood. Stephanie motioned for her maid to follow before the two began walking down the path, a cool breeze keeping their bodies from warming too much. (Y/N) turned her head toward the lake, watching the twinkling water. An image that once soothed his mind now did nothing for him. Maybe he truly was getting sick.

"Mr. Granville!" (Y/N)s' head snapped forward to look at Violet and he felt his headache intensify. Clearing his throat and trying not to wince, he offered her a smile. Violet glanced at Stephanie and licked her lips, parting them only to close them. (Y/N) glanced at his blonde friend and hummed softly.

"Steph, give us a moment, please?"

"Of course." Stephanie smiled politely at Violet and strode forward, beckoning her maid with a flick of her wrist. 

"What is it, Lady Bridgerton?" Playing dumb with the woman who had eight children. As if he didn't look like a child who'd been caught with their hand in the cookie jar. Violet released a breathy chuckle and clasped her hands together, glancing at everyone who walked past them. Each person eyed the woman with either pity or disappointment and (Y/N) had been partly to blame for it.

"Join us at Lady Danburys', please. You are part of this scandal as much as the rest of us, even if the ton doesn't know it."

(Y/N) wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole. He stared at his gloved hands as Lady Danbury ranted about the tons' reaction to the scandal, looking absolutely enraged. He could feel Edwinas' stare burning into the side of his head and almost as if it were in cahoots with her, his headache squeezed around his brain. 

"We know what we are to deal with, at least." Violet piped up softly.

"We shall not remove ourselves from this fight. All will be lost if we run now." Lady Sharma voiced, one hand in Kate's, her thumb rubbing soothing circles in her daughters' hand. 

Edwina scoffed softly. "I shall like to remove myself from this room." She muttered bitterly as she rose from her seat and fetched herself some sugar for her drink. Her mother stared after her in surprise and guilt.

"Every day that goes by without our altering the ton-shared sentiment will harden it." Lady Danbury pointed out, hard eyes flickering between the two men. 

"Perhaps we need another story as to why things ended." Lady Sharma looked at them with a look that only mothers gave to their children when they were disappointed in them. (Y/N) swallowed, pressing himself further against his seat and praying he'd be excused and allowed to leave in the next few minutes. 

"We have already started to tell one. We cannot change course now." Lady Danbury rebutted with a shake of her head. 

"Well, if we cannot speak about the reasons, might we at least act as though they are of no consequence to us?" Violet raised her brows and looked at Lady Sharma before turning toward Lady Danbury with a knowing look. Lady Danbury grinned widely.

"A ball."

"Yes! Together. We prove to the ton that our story is true. It was indeed a mutual decision between all interested parties, and there is no scandal or ill will between our families at all." Violet beamed and Edwina set her cup down with a clank, an exasperated look on her face. Lady Sharma gave her youngest a look. 

"A ball would give Edwina the chance to find another suitor." She raised her brows at her.

"Another ball? So that the ton might inspect this wreckage with an even closer eye?" Anthony finally spoke for the first time that evening but he didn't look in (Y/N)s' direction and neither did the painter. Edwina stared at the two of them with a clenched jaw before humming.

"A ball may very well work." Edwina nodded and Violet smiled widely. "After all, the Viscount and Mr. Granville have been so good at hiding their true feelings from everyone in public this far! It should not trouble them to do the same a little longer." The ladies' smiles dropped and Lady Sharma quietly hissed Edwina's name. Edwina looked at her mother with a frown before little Newton scurried into the room, barking up a storm and running right up to (Y/N). The painter couldn't help but smile and lean down, giving the corgi the attention he demanded.

"Newton!" Kate tutted and stood up from her seat but Anthony leaned over, gently pushing the dog away from the painter.

"Oh, it's fine." (Y/N) chuckled, standing up from his seat alongside Anthony. With another call from Kate, Newton finally obeyed his owner and waddled over into her arms. (Y/N) watched him with a smile before turning his head to look at Anthony. The Bridgerton hummed softly, staring into his eyes with a small smile of his own. He leaned over slightly, purposefully brushing his shoulder against (Y/N)s', looking away when (Y/N) gave him a look. 

"Was I truly that blind?" Edwina gaped at the two, spinning around to face the others. "Were they always this obvious?"

"If this plan is to work..." Violet began as she rose from her seat. 

"I suggest the two of you stay on opposite sides of the room at all times." Lady Danbury finished for her, gripping the top of her cane and leaning over, smacking the side of Anthonys' leg. Before (Y/N) could chuckle, she did the same to him, forcing the two to step away from each other.

"All we need would be for someone to witness something untoward-"

"I beg your pardon, Lady Danbury. I do not know what you mean to say." Anthony cut in quickly with a scoff as his mother approached him.

"What she means to say, Anthony is that those of us in this room at present are the only ones who know the full truth of the matter," Violet explained, placing a hand on Anthonys' arm.

"And we would prefer to keep it that way. You of all people should know the risk of this being found out, (Y/N)." Lady Danbury raised her brows and he swallowed, eyes falling onto the carpet beneath him.

"I'm fully aware that many would call for my... our death if the ton were to find out."

"Precisely why there must not even be a passing look between the two of you, lest we wish to read about it in Lady Whistledown. Are we clear?"

"Quite, Lady Danbury."

"Yes." (Y/N) nodded, taking her nod as a dismissal and turning away. He walked out of the drawing room and headed down the hall, one hand ghosting over the railing. He felt the world spin and squeezed his eyes shut, hand clamping around it. Sucking in a breath, he brought a hand up to his forehead. 

"Are you alright, Mr. Granville?" A servant questioned.

"Mm? Yes, I'm alright, thank you." (Y/N) replied breathily and smiled at the maid. She hesitantly nodded and continued up the stairs.

             ꕤ         ꕤ       ꕤ       ꕤ       ꕤ       ꕤ

"This one is yours, right, darling?" Lucy motioned to the painting before them, smiling up at it.

"Yes, it's the lake beside grandfather's estate at sunrise. If you look closely, you can see Moonlight standing in front of the lake." (Y/N) smiled fondly. Lucy chuckled and nodded, staring at the painting for a moment longer, the longing to see her late parents again evident on her face. Stepping closer to her son, she sighed.

"Moonlight had always been your grandfathers' favorite. I'm glad you share similar feelings." Glancing at the painting one last time, she turned away and observed the statue nearby.

"Mrs. Granville." Lucy and her son turned their heads to look at Violet as she approached. (Y/N) inhaled. Right, the ball. Violet smiled at him knowingly before facing his mother and taking her hand.

"We're hosting a ball later this week. I was hoping you'd be able to make it." 

"I'll have to speak with my husband first." Lucy returned the smile and gave Violet's hand a gentle squeeze, letting it slip from her grasp afterward and glancing back at her son before she continued. Violet watched her go before sighing and looking at (Y/N).

"Was that a yes or a no?"

"Sounded like a no." (Y/N) answered truthfully, offering his arm for her to take. Violet did so and shook her head, glancing at the others as they whispered and murmured, not even bothering to hide their distaste. 

"If I'm honest... I had my suspicions. Anthony doesn't get attached to strangers so easily, especially his siblings' friends. At first, I thought you'd been the exception, and then when Anthony told me one day that he hadn't been feeling well and what he described sounded like a crush..." Violet trailed off, speaking quietly. "Deep down, I knew it had to be you." 

"I know for most parents finding out your child is... Well, most would consider it a nightmare." 

"But I don't." Violet frowned, shaking her head. "I certainly don't understand it, but I do not believe it is a nightmare. In fact, I'm relieved. For the longest time, I thought Anthony had been incapable of love after Edmund died. I knew he cared for the singer he'd been seeing but I didn't believe it was love. Then, you came along and I saw him look alive... And happy. You're good for him, (Y/N). I'll never be able to hate my children for being who they are and I certainly can't hate you for making my son happy. Whatever you two decide to do, I just hope you'll at least remain friends cause Anthony isn't the only one who enjoys your company in the family." Violet smiled warmly, inhaling softly before she stepped away to mingle with the others. (Y/N) watched her go and swallowed, continuing to walk down the aisle until he stopped by a statue.

(Y/N) knew he couldn't expect less from Violet. Her love for her children was tremendous and an example to all mothers. He doubted she could hate anyone unless they directly harmed her family. (Y/N) wished he'd met her as a child. Perhaps his youth would've been spent running with Benedict instead of being fretted over by maids within the walls of the Granville house.

"Your mother is an angel, I'm sure of it." (Y/N) murmured and looked at Anthony as he stood beside him. Anthonys' lips quirked, eyes looking over the statue before he turned his head to look at the painter. 

"We shouldn't linger around each other for long, Anthony. Unless you wish to face Lady Danbury and her cane." (Y/N) glanced over his shoulder in search of said woman, in case her hawk eyes had spotted them together.

"I'd face her wrath a million times over if it meant being by your side." (Y/N) despised the way his lips formed a smile and the involuntary chuckle that slipped past them. Anthony perked at the sound of it and his eyes softened.

"You should give poetry another attempt, Anthony. It appears you're getting better at it."

"If that's what you want." Anthony continued, voice softening. He stepped around (Y/N) and went back to inspecting the statue to not attract any wandering eyes. 

"Flattery will not change my mind, Anthony."

"Your smile says otherwise."

[justmeinatree]

01 - the greatest show : the preacher in the pulpit

Summary : a group of misfits, a mysterious leader, a string of murders, and life on the road.

TW : transgender misconceptions & hardships in victorian era europe

Word Count : 5.6k

Series Masterlist

“in the name of the father, the son, and the holy ghost. amen.” priest davies recites, his right hand in the air, making a sign of the cross above the heads of the entire congregation. making this the two million, eighty three thousand, nine hundred and sixty seventh time she hears those words. or so it felt like.

it’s not that she didn’t like the idea of god, it’s that she didn’t like learning that the church seemed to be ran in a way that opposed to a lot of the practices they’ve been taught. but she could never admit to that. it’s much too radical thinking. the year is only 1849, mind you. 

the problem she’s facing stems from a lifetime of church practices and church school and a super tiny church town. a lifetime of learning to submit, although really it didn’t feel as extreme as it sounds. she didn’t hate it, didn’t know anything else really. 

she sees the life her parents lead, the life everyone in this town leads, and she likes it. loves it, honestly. wants it. but she holds such a big, life altering secret. one that unfortunately wont let her lead that life. surely not in this part of the world, anyway.

looking around the small church, she notices mister wright, misses wright hanging onto his arm, their three kids trailing behind them. then the griffiths walking down the aisle, misses griffith obviously about ready to give birth, if her swollen stomach and awkward little waddle are anything to go by. and then who could forget mister morris, approaching his 50s, sitting in the back corner, a spot he’s now claimed as his own, since misses morris passed away a few months ago. it made her sad to think about, they’d been together 35years when the ol’gal passed on. 

she loved watching people, families, go about. it gave her an opportunity to disconnect from real life thoughts, and place herself into a beautifully conjured up imaginary story. one where she actually has the chance at love and happiness.

“timothy” her mum snips, pulling her from her thoughts, pulling her from her full happy fulfilling fantasy, shaking her head and looking over at her mum, as she goes on, “hurry up, we need to get to your uncle’s in time for lunch. your cousin oliver has some news to tell the family.”

and she’s not sure whether it’s hearing her name, the useless event that’s about to happen, or the fact that her mum makes such a big deal about everything, but her stomach has turned and fell and shattered.

as she rolls her eyes, sliding out of the pew, following her parents and little sister down the aisle, she murmurs, “we know oliver’s going to announce that he’s finally engaged to betsy.”

“oh stop it, you,” her mum snaps again, turning to look at her with sheer annoyance in her eyes. “why do you insist on being such a party pooper ? can’t you ever just happily go to an event ?”

“i don’t even understand why i need to go, and why this is even an event,” she sighs. “besides, it’s not like i’m ruining the party, we already know that’s what it’s going to be, right ? it’s useless,” she trails on, getting cut off now that they’ve reached the back of the church, father davies shaking hands with her parents.

the priest now turns his attention to her, a warm smile on his face, taking her hand in his, “was nice to see you timothy, i look forward to seeing you next weekend.”

and as she’s always been taught, she keeps a tight lipped smile, nodding her head in affirmation, before father davies shifts his attention to her sister, emma, following the same routine. a firm handshake, warm smile, a bid to a good week, and a promise to reunite next weekend. same time, same place. same, same, same. always the same. 

which, as mentioned, wasn’t terrible. she loved the idea of meeting a nice man, settling down, finding love. obviously the idea of kids was wiped off the table the moment god decided she’d be born in a body with a penis. 

but it was okay, she wasn’t angry with him. god, that is. figured that he did this for a reason. 

she was angry, however, or maybe frightened was the right word, with the people of the congregation. she’d heard stories of what happened to people like her. and although, she’d hoped her parents loved her too much to even think of something so awful, she knew, downright, that it wasn’t the case.

and that’s what she’ll never understand. if god is perfect, and his creations are perfect, why was she such a terrible creature ? why was it impossible to fathom that maybe a girl was born with a penis ? and why was she doomed to a future of white walls, straight jacket, botched early versions of lobotomy, rape, abuse, starvation, prison, complete segregation, and quite possible death ? why was love a concept she could only ever dream of ?

all thoughts that plague her mind on a daily basis, especially while she’s hiding in her room, stood in the dimmest light she can function in, dress draped over her small frame. she only had the one, tucked away in the depths of her drawers, something she pilfered from the seamstress’ shop years ago now.

she felt bad in the moment, assuming that whoever’s order it was would be proper upset, hopefully not taking it out too roughly on the poor seamstress. misses white could hold her own though, as delicate as she was with her craft, she could tear you apart if you so much as looked at her wrong.

and how she longed for such a badass attitude. generally she got a huge burst of confidence on the off times she had the opportunity to put the beautiful pale yellow dress on. but it was quickly wiped away whenever she’d hear so much as a tiny creak, immediately brought back to reality, shrugging the garment off, and hiding it all over again.

but in this moment, she was following her parents, walking side by side with her sister, down the road to their uncle’s house. and when she looks down, seeing her polished black shoes laced up intricately, her black, firmly pressed slacks, crisp white shirt buttoned up to the top, and tucked in tightly, a little bit of her light seems to fade.

she almost forgets, when she’s going about her life. her true colours, her true spark, that’s become an intricate part of who she is, typically shines brightly. you’ll rarely find someone that doesn’t love her presence. men, women, young, old, she gets on with everyone. a feat that’s not always easy, especially in their little village. 

and she supposes that’s the irony in this situation. if all these people knew her secret, they’d shun her completely without so much as a second thought. but nothing about her would be different. other than the name, and the cut/fit of the cotton hanging off her body.

but then, when she hears the word timothy, or she catches a glimpse of her clothing, and she’s begrudgingly reminded that she is in fact, a penis having human, and that means that she has to be a boy. and those are the moments you can almost literally see the spark leave her soul entirely.

she wonders if one day she’ll lose that shimmery glimmer of hope and love and light and joy. if the more she’s reminded that she must be timothy, the more difficult it will be for that spark to find her again. almost as if the spark is looking for her, and gets mistaken whenever it sees timothy, continuing on its journey to find her, flashing right past her stupid boy name and her stupid boy clothes.

“timmy ?” she hears softly, coming from right next to her.

“yeah, em ?” she hums, giving her head a shake, forcibly throwing those awful thoughts around her head, hoping to smash them up so badly with the force of it all, that they’re at bay for at least the rest of the day.

“you look sad. are you alright ?” emma asks quietly, still slightly too young to understand much of anything, but old enough to know that it’s crucial to keep her voice down, as to not garner the attention of their parents.

“m’alright honey bee,” she plasters on the biggest smile she can muster. which truthfully isn’t all that hard, in the presence of her little sister. if there was anyone she’d ever feel comfortable confiding in, it was emma. unfortunately, at the ripe age of 7 3/4, god forbid you forget the 3/4, emma’s still a bit too unpredictable in the secret keeping department.

“have i ever told you that i love when you call me honey bee,” emma smiles wide, eyes peering up.

“don’t think you have actually,” she hums in thought. “do you remember the day i gave you that nickname ?”

“sort of,” emma hums, the memory now very faded, as she was barely 3 years old when it happened. “you and i had gone for a walk. remember you slamming the front door and storming off. remember being scared when i heard the loud bang.”

“sorry about that,” she murmurs, nodding, as she remembers that morning like it was yesterday. remembers the loud screaming match she had with her mum, remembers storming off in a fit of furry, pacing the front of the house for a moment after having slammed the door. remembers adorable little emma, shyly peering through a crack in the door, asking quietly if timmy was alright. remembers the instant calming effect her little sister seemed to bring.

“remember going for a walk with you,” emma hums. “i could tell you were mad, i could feel it off you. but you were trying to hide it from me.”

“never told me that,” she murmurs, in thought. “you know, you saved me that day. you calmed me down so much, i just couldn’t stay mad with you around. you were so cute, running around, so innocent and happy, trying to make me laugh.”

“remember all of that,” emma smiles at the memory, always having been really close to timmy. the sibling bond, sibling love, was very strong between the two. “but i dont remember how we fell on honey bee.”

she smiles, laughing quietly, the memory crystal clear in her mind, “you had ran ahead, stopped by a large tree, remember you twirling around under it. anyways, i had caught up to you, when a bee flew out from the tree and kept bothering me. i was swatting away at it, when you yelled at me to stop. told me that clearly the honey bee had mistaken me for a pretty flower.”

“i said that ?” emma giggles, covering her mouth with her hand. 

“you’ve always surprised me with the things you say,” she laughs. “i think you surprise everyone with your well advanced view on the world. anyways, i dont think i’d ever felt more special, more beautiful, than i did in that moment, on that day. been calling you honey bee ever since.”

she can see the smile light up emma’s face, a memory emma’s obviously happy to now tuck away into her brain, the story finally complete in her mind, just as they walk up the pathway to their uncle’s house.

they all spot aunty jane, standing out front, hand extended in the air, waving at everyone. here we go, she thinks to herself.

finally, finally, back home, she mutters to herself as she shuts herself into her bedroom. sitting on the edge of her bed, elbows rested on her knees, head dipped down into her hands, taking lung fulls of shaky breaths.

“can’t do this, can’t do this, can’t do this anymore,” she mumbles quietly to herself, silent tears dripping down from her water filled eyes.

her brain feels like it’s imploding, her heart feels like it’s much too heavy for her chest, her stomach is turning, and she’s so god damn sick of it all. if she hears the name timothy one more time, she’s sure she’ll be gouging her eyeballs out, shoving knives in her eardrums, and swallowing arsenic for good measure.

she hadn’t noticed that her body was wracking through tremors, as she was trying, fuck swears she’s trying, to take proper breaths. but all of a sudden, her chest is too heavy, her lungs feel swollen, her throat is too tight, and the air just can’t get to where she needs it.

she blinks through some tears, the feeling of a panic attack nothing foreign to her. actually, it’s become a fairly usual occurrence following family gatherings. she can usually do her best to ignore the obvious fact that she’s imprisoned in a “boy” body on normal days. but put her in the presence of others and she struggles more and more each time.

and the unfortunate reality, the only way to make it all better, is to pull out that beautiful yellow dress and slip it on, cover her awful body with a garment that mirrors what she’s been picturing in her mind for almost a decade and a half. 

today, however, it’s still early, everyone’s still awake going about their business, a much too dangerous situation, she thinks to herself. which honestly, only makes the panic worsen. 

but, she can’t calm down, she can’t think straight, she can’t fucking breathe, and rational has flown straight out the window. she needs her dress, needs it. fuck it all, she needs a good strong inhale before her brain goes into the fuzzy abyss of no return. 

in a flurry of pure panic meeting the influx of adrenaline, she quickly stands straight, her head spinning uncontrollably from the lack of oxygen. her hands fall on her dresser, holding herself up, all of her strength and power coming from the rush of knowing that the dress will make it all better. her light at the end of a dark, panic ridden tunnel.

rummaging haphazardly through her drawer, clothes being thrown about in her room, because she needs, needs, needs that fucking dress. needs it now. nothing else matters, every ounce of her being is redirected and focused on dress, dress, dress.

her brain barely registers the yellow fabric through her gaze, only clicking once her hand wraps itself in soft cotton, a strike contrast to the rougher material of her usual, very well used, pants and button ups. 

and almost as if she’d been given pure cocaine, injected straight into her brain, for the strongest, most instant high, her body starts to calm. the mere presence of her dress enough to bring her back, feet solidly planted on the ground, breaths coming easier.

but it’s not enough, she needs to feel it, needs to see it, needs, needs, needs anything that isn’t such a grandiose expression of boy. so with the dress now laid out gently on her bed, she grips into her shirt, ripping the buttons right at the seams, as she tears it off her body, the garment joining all of her other clothes strewn across the room, with her slacks quick to follow.

and once she shimmies her way into her dress, her lungs finally, fucking finally, pull in the large breath of oxygen they’d been searching for. her brain starts to relax, the fuzzy blindness of panic and terror and pain starting to lift, as she looks down at herself, her body now mirroring what she’s always pictured, what she’s always wanted.

taking some calming breaths, letting the much needed air reach her brain, her body relaxes. she can feel her fingertips again. can feel her toes as she wiggles them. can feel the goosebumps on her skin as a chilly breeze flows through her open window, her arms hugging around herself in pure search of comfort. 

she can feel the silent tears wetting her cheeks, as she keeps crying quietly, the feeling of elation so overwhelming. going from pure, intense, rage ridden panic, to pure, intense, serene calm, throwing her brain, her body, for a complete loop of emotion. she felt almost lightheaded at the whirlwind of a switch that was just flicked in her mind.

and she isn’t too sure when it happened, or how it happened, the last 15 minutes having been too much, too much, too fucking much, but she finds herself laying in bed, eyes closing as her body screams at her to regulate, to shut off, to rest. 

so without a second thought, without her usual level headed moment of judgment, without her ability to assess that no, she should not be taking a nap in the middle of the afternoon, wearing a dress, when anyone could walk in, she ends up asleep. the panic attack having been the worst she’s ever experienced, every ounce of her being shutting down now that the adrenaline had crashed and her body felt peace in the envelopment of a beautiful yellow cotton dress.

at first she isn’t too sure what it was that woke her up. maybe she’d been asleep longer than she ever anticipated when she closed her eyes. maybe it was the newfound nip to the chill in the air that came with the darkness of early evening. maybe it was the lingering smell of whatever her mum was cooking up for dinner. 

but the moment she hears the loud gasp, followed by a booming shout of her father’s gruelling voice, she seems to remember the faint cry of her name. her god forsaken, stomach turning name. the faint cry coming from her sister’s sweet little melodic tone, obviously coming from far away in the kitchen, announcing that supper was about to be served. and naturally, when she couldn’t answer, thanks to her sleep ridden body, her father came trudging up the stairs looking for her.

“what in god’s sacred name is on your body, young man ?” she hears bellowing through her room, through the entire house really, and what a crude, awful way to wake up this is. she barely has the time to blink her eyes open, let alone give her brain a moment to steady itself and register its surroundings, before the booming stomps of her father’s feet can be heard echoing through the room, and probably shaking the floorboards enough for some dust to trickle down below them onto the lower floor of the house. 

she feels her father’s hand wrap itself in the garment, at chest level, giving a harsh enough tug to pull the upper half of her body clean off the bed below her. “i asked you a question, timothy,” he shouts right in her face, “where the fuck did you get this and why is it on you ?”

fear. pure, stricken, fear. she feels her heart stop, she feels the her stomach fall to a pit so low she didn’t know it could even go that far. she feels a prickling warmth spread through her entire body. her lungs seem to stop working, as she stares into her father’s disgust filled eyes, waiting for an explanation, none of which would be anywhere near good enough for him.

“i- i-“ she stutters around the shakiness of her breath, chest twitching, trying to gasp through any bit of air, soft voice working its way through, “it’s not what it looks like.”

in a fit of pure rage, her father pushes at her chest with force, such pure disgust evident in his eyes, as he lets go of the garment, letting her fall back against the bed.

by now, with the booming commotion, her mum and sister were standing in the doorway, curious eyes peering past the man of the house, to see what it is that’s got him so riled up.

she can see the shock in her mum’s eyes, hand covering what she can only assume to be her wide open mouth, jaw slackened with surprise. she can see the worry and confusion in her little sister’s regard, not totally grasping the scene in front of her, but old enough to understand that whatever was unfolding was nothing good. she can’t even look at her dad, the disgust she saw earlier, too much for her to look at again. it was already burned on her brain anyway.

she’d never been made to feel so ashamed in her life. she’d never felt so alone, so disgusting, so dirty, so small, so fucking revolting. she was trembling harder than she ever has, her gaze stuck on her hands resting softly in her lap. her ears were ringing so loud she could barely hear the conversation now happening between her parents.

fear. so much fear. what would happen now, who were they going to tell, where would she go, what would they make her do, how was this going to end ? 

her ears catch bits of sentences, “did you know ?”, “is that dress yours ?”, “send him to the asylum,” “give him a chance, maybe father davies- ,” “he’s a fucking worthless whore cross dresser !”, “we can’t just- ,” “get this sorry excuse for a son out of my face,” “daddy, dont- ,” “i never want to see that disgusting face again.”

it all went by in a blur, and the next thing she knows, her door is slammed shut, all wandering eyes closed off by the dark wood separating her from the world. 

still trembling, still shaken by the events, still gasping for breath, and for the first time, she can’t get the dress off fast enough. she tugs and rips and shimmies at a blinding pace, angry at the garment, angry at herself, for causing such a mess.

having lost any ounce of appetite, she spends the evening in her room, tucked in the smallest ball her body can wrap itself in, hiding away in a corner of her room, sheltering herself from the entirety of the world, while simultaneously attempting to comfort herself in any way she can.

she’s disgusting, she’s dirty, she’s a fucking abomination. what was she thinking ? what was she doing ? how could she humiliate herself like that ? she really felt like the lowest form of human there was. she’d never felt such deep shame in her life. 

she wasn’t sure how long she’d been squeezing herself into such a tight ball, angry thoughts swirling through her mind, until a soft, barely there knock can be heard from the other side of her door. at first, she wasn’t sure it had really happened, until she hears it again, more urgently this time.

her limbs hurt, joints creaking, as she untangles herself for the first time in god knows how many hours, padding quietly to the door, opening it just a crack, peering out into the hallway to find emma looking up with her big, innocent gaze.

opening the door more than just a crack, she beckons her sister into the bedroom, closing the door with a soft thud.

“are you okay ?” emma asks quietly, going to sit on the edge of the bed.

“you shouldn’t have seen that,” she hums quietly. “surprised mum and dad even let you come talk to me.”

“they’re asleep, it’s late now,” emma murmurs, shrugging. “they’re making you go to confess your sins to father davies tomorrow,” she explains, “overheard them talking after dinner.”

“of course they are,” she rolls her eyes, a silent tear running down her cheek. “this isn’t good emma. i’m in a lot of trouble.”

“just do what they say,” emma whispers, her own eyes filling with unshed tears. “they’re mad, but- but it’ll get better right ? can make this better ? i can’t lose my brother,” emma whimpers, afraid of the future, concerned for her favouritest family member.

“i’ll try,” she murmurs wetly, tears running freely down her cheeks, as she wraps her arms around her sister. she has to do what’s right. can’t leave her sister. can’t be a girl. she cannot be a fucking girl. she needs to be the big brother emma’s always loved and needed and came to for everything. she just needs to be.

or so she tells herself all night long, when the thoughts are too loud for her to get a wink of sleep, watching emma curled up next to her in comfort, holding onto her brother’s shirt for dear life, the only way she could reach a proper state of rest after the events of the day.

without having slept a wink all night long, her brain muttering through different thoughts, different scenarios, different possibilities, different outcomes, and enjoying the slight moments of peace when her gaze catches her innocent, sleeping sister, she starts to notice streams of light working their way through the small window. the sun slowly rising on a brand new day, full of hopes and dreams. or so she wishes. at this point, she isn’t too sure that hopes and dreams are still a part of life that she’s privy to.

she gently pats emma awake, watching her stretch out her limbs to waken them for the new day ahead. they both pad downstairs, noticing that it’s fairly quiet in the house. too quiet really. usually by this time their mum is muttering about the kitchen, getting their breakfasts ready. their father is typically shining his shoes, making sure his hat and tie are on straight, awaiting his breakfast before shuffling out the door and off to work.

but today, they couldn’t make out a single sound, the eerieness to it all not going unnoticed, creating a heavy swirling in the bottom of her stomach. did they abandon their children ? was she their reason for leaving ? was all of this entirely her fault ? now she was left to raise emma as her own, the two of them against this cruel world ? no, no, she figures it can’t quite be that bad. she needs to stop psyching herself out. they surely wouldn’t have left without emma.

now in the kitchen, emma notices the small piece of paper on the table, reading aloud, “father davies is waiting for you, timothy. after the confession of your sins, we expect to see our son back.”

she notices emma blinking up at her, all of the questions bouncing around her head seen clearly through the confusion in her gaze, “how would you not be their son ?”

“because i was wearing that dress,” she murmurs quietly, a short sentence full of shame, hatred, humiliation.

“but a dress doesn’t make you a girl,” emma pipes up, completely oblivious to the situation at hand. and how could anything but confusion and oblivion be etched on emma’s face when the concept of transgender has not even come close to being introduced to her. why should it ? people like this don’t exist. not out in public anyway.

“no, but my brain does,” she sighs quietly, shaking her head and snapping back into reality. “look, honey bee, i clearly have to go to the church. dont want to upset mum and dad any more than they already are. you wait at home, yeah ?”

“but -“

“no emma,” she shakes her head, “can’t come with me this time. need to do this one myself. mum and dad, or me, will be back soon, yeah ? here, have some bread and jam,” she hums, taking a plate and bringing it to the table. “next thing you know, someone’ll be home. you can work on your crochet in the meantime.”

“are you going to be okay timmy ?” emma asks quietly, almost shyly, ever worried for her brother.

she smiles sadly, not wanting to ever cause harm or worry to her little sister, giving her a kiss on the head, “i’ll be fine. eat, do something fun, and i’ll be home in no time.”

and with that, she sets off, the door closing gently behind her, as she walks down the familiar path leading to the town centre, and more specifically, the tallest building right in the middle of it all, the church.

she walks in quietly, the pit in her stomach having only grown larger and deeper and pittier. is that even a thing ? she’s not sure, but what she is sure of is that upon noticing father davies, her chest tightens, her lungs struggle to breathe, her head is absolutely swimming with worry, and is it possible to poop out your stomach ? because she thinks she just has.

“ah, timothy !” father davies smiles, turning around when he hears the shuffle of the large wooden door creaking closed. “good morning, son.”

and she swears, swears, that up until this point, father davies has never called her, son. surely out of spite, after having whatever conversation was had with her parents, and the entire ordeal makes her want to coward back and run out of the building altogether. but by sheer will, and maybe a little speckle of hope, she walks her way down the aisle, stopping at the last pew, sitting herself next to the priest.

“your parents tell me that you have some sins to confess,” he hums, looking her over, a gentle smile on his face, no foreseeable judgment in his gaze. yet.

as she sighs, her shoulders slumping a bit, she figures this is it. maybe telling her secret to father davies, to god, whom is surely listening right ?, maybe she’ll find a sparkle of hope. either way, confession has always been confidential. or so she’s always been affirmed. this is a conversation to be had with god. father davies is just like the interpreter. the messenger if you will.

“i was wearing a dress yesterday,” she mumbles quietly, still unsure of how much she can put her trust in the priest, but with having no one else to turn to, she has to put her faith in someone. and who better than a man of the church to turn to for faith.

“so i’ve been told,” he nods. “and what made you do that then ?”

“i like it,” she murmurs, shrugging her shoulders. “i dont see why it’s a big deal. i like wearing dresses. i- i-“ she sighs, the next part not something she ever anticipated telling to anyone. especially not this soon anyway. “i think i’m a girl.”

and at that, she notices the furrow in father davies’ eyebrows, notices the little hamster wheel turning very hard in his head, as he tries to make heads or tails of this situation.

truth is, he was not expecting that. maybe a confession of stealing, of being curious, because sure, who wasn’t at some point in their lives. but to be blatantly told that this boy thinks he’s a girl. well, it’s a little bit whacky, and a lot bit absurd.

as father davies sits, processing, not speaking a word, she sighs again, although this time with a slight edge as she’s maybe noticing that the faith and trust was misguided. “i dont understand why that’s so bad. if god made me this way, there’s a reason right ? father davies, if god isn’t capable of errors, why do i feel like such a mistake ?”

“you’re not a mistake, timothy. you’re maybe a little lost, maybe a little mistaken, maybe a little confused. but you are not a mistake, as you said yourself, god doesn’t make mistakes. maybe you just need some help in finding yourself, finding the man you were meant to be all along.”

the man. the man she was meant to be. her stomach plummets more, her heart beats more erratically, her fingers become more jittery, her head swims more and more. was she just mistaken ? no, no, she can’t be mistaken, she’s a girl. she knows. fucking knows that she’s a girl.

and as gut wrenching, as frightening, as confusing, as complex as this moment is, there is a click in her brain. a moment where the metaphorical fog has lifted. she is a girl, and she will do whatever it takes to have the freedom and happiness and love that she knows she deserves. 

“i’m sorry father, but i must disagree. my parents have sent me to speak with you to confess to my sins. and other than stealing that dress, years ago, i dont feel as though i have any sins to confess to. i am a girl. and if no one can agree with that, well then, i guess we’re done here.”

with a solid kick of confidence brought on by her new inner realization, she stands from the pew, nodding her goodbye to father davies, and walking down the aisle towards the back of the church, seeing herself out of the building. 

on the walk home, her mind swirls with the future unknown. she questions what will come out of her short conversation with father davies. will he keep her secret, or will he have, what she can only assume to be, a very disgruntled conversation with her parents ? will he tell others ? what will her parents do ? what will the others do ? what about poor little emma ? 

the one thing she does know is that she’s absolutely done. so fucking done. if even the priest, messenger of god, cant hear her out, she has no reason to hold onto hope. especially not here. with her newfound courage, she finds herself skipping towards her house, a huge contrast in her demeanour since she first walked this path, just a mere hour ago. because really, whatever happens, she will be the girl she’s always known she is. she will. she has to. for her sanity, she fucking has to.

Part 2

……

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

A/N : dont worry your adorable little selves, we need a little background on our main character before we can meet our golden boy. harry’s on the way real real soon ! ✌️

tags : @daphnesutton @niallthebadboi @gorlsinmultifandoms @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite

[amillionkilopascals]

there's a strange melancholy to attending Mass with your family so as not to stress them out with the idea that you no longer believe in god.

the sensation of dipping your hand into the holy water, knowing that no amount will be enough to cleanse you fully as you make the sign of the cross.

confessing the creed, knowing the emperor who wrote it killed his own wife and son afterwards.

listening to god abuse humanity through the readings and the priest's homily, wondering how anyone could truly believe this.

the heavy weight of the priest's hand on your head as you ask for a blessing so as not to partake of the eucharist, not to accept a blood sacrifice.

the judgemental stare of the congregation as they see everyone in your family but you consume god.

[orthodoxydaily]

SAINTS&READING: SUNDAY. SEPTEMBER 15, 2024

september 2_september 15

TRANSLATION OF THE RELICS OF PRINCE PETER (1228) AND PRINCESS FEBRONIA (tonsured David and Euphrosyne), WONDERWORKERDS OF MUROM

Holy Prince Peter (David in monasticism) and Holy Princess Febronia (Euphrosyne - Euphrosynē - in monasticism), Wonderworkers of Murom. Prince Peter was the second son of the Murom prince Yuri Vladimirovich. He entered upon the throne of Murom in the year 1203. Several years before this Saint Peter had fallen ill with leprosy, from which no one was able to heal him. In a vision it was revealed to the prince that the daughter of a bee-keeper would be able to heal him: the pious maiden Febronia, a peasant of Laskova village in Ryazan gubernia. Saint Peter sent his emissaries to this village.

When the prince saw Saint Febronia, he fell in love with her because of her piety, wisdom and virtue, and vowed to marry her after being healed. Saint Febronia healed the prince and became his wife. The holy couple loved each other through all their ordeals. The haughty boyars did not wish to have a princess of common origin, and they urged that the prince leave her. Saint Peter refused, and so they banished the couple. They sailed off on a boat from their native city along the River Oka, and Saint Febronia continued to console Saint Peter. Soon the wrath of God fell upon the city of Murom, and the people begged the prince return together with Saint Febronia.

The holy couple was famous for their piety and charity. They died on the same day and hour, June 25, 1228, having received the monastic tonsure with the names David and Evphrosyne. The bodies of the saints were put in the same grave.

Sts Peter and Febronia showed themselves exemplary models of Christian marriage, and are considered as the patron saints of newly-weds.

Sourcec: Orthodox Church in America_OCA

RIGHTEOUS ALEAZAR AND PHINEAS, THE GRANDSON OF AARON AND SECOND HIGH PRIEST OF ISRAEL (c. 1500 B.C.)

Eleazar was Aaron's third son by his wife Elisheba. Eleazar became a priest along with his father and three brothers. He married a daughter of Putiel who bore him a son, Phinehas. After his two older brothers, Nadab and Abihu, were killed for making an unholy offering to God, and during his fathers lifetime, "he was supervisor over those who had charge of the sanctuary" (Num. 3:32). "Eleazar son of Aaron, the priest, is to have charge of the oil for the light, the fragrant incense, the regular grain offering and the anointing oil. He is to be in charge of the entire tabernacle and everything in it, including its holy furnishings and articles" (Num. 4:16).

When Aaron died at Mount Hor, Eleazar became the high priest. Before Moses died, the Lord instructed Moses to appoint Joshua as his successor, and to "stand before Eleazar the priest and all the congregation" (Num. 27:19). Eleazar served as the high priest through the rest of Moses' life and throughout Joshua's leadership in taking over Canaan.

He helped in the allotment of Canaan among the twelve tribes of Israel (Joshua 14:1-2). Eleazar was buried at Gibeah, a town belonging to Phinehas in the hill country of Ephraim. Phinehas succeeded him as high priest. In King David's day, 16 of the 24 priestly houses were descended from Eleazar, including the family of the high priest Zadok.Righteous Phinehas (Feast Day - September 2 & March 12)

Phinehas, the son of Eleazar, was a grandson of Aaron. He was a zealous priest. During the desert wandering, Phinehas killed Zimri, an Israelite, and Cozri, a Midianite woman, whom Zimri had brought into the camp (Numbers 25).

This act ended a plague by which God had judged Israel for allowing Midianite women to corrupt Israel with idolatry and harlotry. For such zeal Phinehas and his descendants were promised a permanent priesthood. “Phinehas son of Eleazar, the son of Aaron, the priest, has turned My anger away from the Israelites. Since he was as zealous for My honor among them as I am, I did not put an end to them in My zeal. Therefore tell him I am making My covenant of peace with him. He and his descendants will have a covenant of a lasting priesthood, because he was zealous for the honor of his God and made atonement for the Israelites” (Num. 25:11-13).

Phinehas became the third high priest of Israel, serving for 19 years. In other events in Phinehas' life, he accompanied an army of 12,000 in a war against Midian, in which the Israelites won decisively. He averted a war between the 10 tribes west of the Jordan, with the tribes east of the Jordan, when he learned that the altar built by the east tribes was only a reminder "that the Lord is God", and that it was not an act of idolatry.

He also conveyed the Lord's order to the Israelites to attack the tribe of Benjamin in retaliation for the rape and murder of a woman traveling through the land. In the battle, 25,100 Benjamite warriers died.

Phinehas's strong defense of the Lord's law made him a model to zealots of later generations. His descendants were among those returning from exile in Babylon.

The Righteous Phineas, grandson of the High Priest Aaron (also commemorated today) and son of the High Priest Eleazar, was also a priest and zealous in his service.

When the Israelites, after the holy Prophet Moses (September 4) led them out of Egypt, were already near the Promised Land, their neighbors the Moabites and Midianites were overcome by fear and envy. Not trusting in their own strength, they summoned the magician Balaam to put a curse on the Israelites. The Lord revealed His will to Balaam, and Balaam refused to curse the People of God, seeing that God was pleased to bless them (Num. 24:1).

Then the Moabites drew the Israelites into the worship of Baal-Peor. God punished the Jews for their apostasy, and they died by the thousands from a plague. Many, beholding the wrath of God, came to their senses and repented.

At this time a certain man named Zimri, of the tribe of the Simeon, “brought to his brethren a Midianite woman in the sight of Moses and in the sight of all the congregation of the children of Israel, and they wept at the door of the tabernacle of witness” (Num. 25:6). Phineas, filled with wrath, went into Zimri’s tent and killed both him and the Midianite woman with a spear.

“And the Lord said to Moses, ‘Phineas... has caused My wrath against the children of Israel to cease, when I was exceedingly jealous among them.... Behold, I give him a covenant of peace, and he and his descendants shall have a perpetual covenant of priesthood, because he was zealous for his God, and made atonement for the children of Israel’” (Num. 25:10-13).

After this, at the command of God, Phineas went at the head of the Israelite army against the Moabites and brought chastisement upon them for their impiety and treachery. After the death of the High Priest Eleazar, Saint Phineas was unanimously chosen as High Priest. The high priesthood, in accord with God’s promise, continued also with his posterity. Saint Phineas died at an advanced age around 1500 B.C.

SOURCE: Orthodox Christianity Then and NOW and Orthodox Chruch in America_OCA

1 Corinthians 15:1-11

1 Moreover, brethren, I declare to you the gospel which I preached to you, which also you received and in which you stand, 2 by which also you are saved, if you hold fast that word which I preached to you-unless you believed in vain. 3 For I delivered to you first of all that which I also received: that Christ died for our sins according to the Scriptures, 4 and that He was buried, and that He rose again the third day according to the Scriptures, 5 and that He was seen by Cephas, then by the twelve. 6 After that He was seen by over five hundred brethren at once, of whom the greater part remain to the present, but some have fallen asleep. 7 After that He was seen by James, then by all the apostles. 8 Then last of all He was seen by me also, as by one born out of due time. 9 For I am the least of the apostles, who am not worthy to be called an apostle, because I persecuted the church of God. 10 But by the grace of God I am what I am, and His grace toward me was not in vain; but I labored more abundantly than they all, yet not I, but the grace of God which was with me. 11 Therefore, whether it was I or they, so we preach and so you believed.

Luke 6:17-23

17 And He came down with them and stood on a level place with a crowd of His disciples and a great multitude of people from all Judea and Jerusalem, and from the seacoast of Tyre and Sidon, who came to hear Him and be healed of their diseases, 18 as well as those who were tormented with unclean spirits. And they were healed. 19 And the whole multitude sought to touch Him, for power went out from Him and healed them all. 20 Then He lifted up His eyes toward His disciples, and said: Blessed are you poor, For yours is the kingdom of God. 21 Blessed are you who hunger now, For you shall be filled. Blessed are you who weep now, For you shall laugh. 22 Blessed are you when men hate you, And when they exclude you, And revile you, and cast out your name as evil, For the Son of Man's sake. 23 Rejoice in that day and leap for joy! For indeed your reward is great in heaven, For in like manner their fathers did to the prophets.

[orthodoxadventure]

Borne to God on Angelic Hymns

Photos from the 100th Anniversary Celebration of the Martyrdom of St. Elizabeth the Grand Duchess and Those With Her

A host of bishops of the Russian Orthodox Church celebrated the 100th anniversary of the martyrdom of St. Elizabeth the Grand Duchess, the Nun Barbara, and Grand Duke Sergei Mikhailovich Romanov, the Princes Ioann Konstantinovich, Konstantin Konstantinovich, Igor Konstantinovich, and Vladimir Pavlovich Paley, and Grand Duke Sergei's secretary Fyodor Remez martyred with them yesterday at the site of their martyrdom.

The celebration followed the festivities in honor of the 100th anniversary of Tsar Nicholas II, Tsarina Alexandra, and their children and faithful servants the day before in Ekaterinburg. St. Elizabeth the New Martyr was the sister of Tsarina Alexandra.

The service in honor of Sts. Elizabeth, Barbara, and those with them was headed by His Eminence Metropolitan Kirill of Ekaterinburg and Verkhotursky, with the concelebration of twelve other hierarchs and the clergy of the Metropolitanate of Ekaterinburg.

Following the service, the hierarchs, clergy, and faithful processed to the mine where the bodies of the holy martyrs were thrown on the night of July 17-18, 1918. A moleben was celebrated at the mine, followed by the singing of the Cherubic Hymn, which the martyrs sang throughout the course of several days within the mine until they finally departed to the Heavenly Kingdom. As the hymn was being sung, the mine, which has become a place of pilgrimage for hundreds of thousands from throughout the world, was censed. Particles of the relics of St. Elizabeth were brought out of the church for veneration.

Met. Kirill of Ekaterinburg then addressed the congregation with an archpastoral homily:

For us, believers, today is the day of our personal relationship to Elizabeth Feodorovna and to all the martyrs of the Russian Church and Russian land, who … now defend holy Orthodoxy so our people might live not under the seal of the Satanism, but under the blessing of God. And today, when we incline our heads and the knees of our hearts at this mine, we see the meek face of Elizabeth Feodorovna and her loving heart, which forgives all: the killers and their successors, and prays for all—for our people, and for us today, that this cruelty, this antipathy, this lack of understanding of one another has finally gone from our lives, and we have again become one, great, powerful Russian people, the name and banner of which is the banner of Christianity and the name of Christianity, and the protection of which is the saints of God, who stand before the throne of God today for our infirmity, tearfully praying for us, for our lives, bitter and often unjust.

Among other guests, the service was attended by the head of the Russian Imperial House of Romanov, Grand Duchess Maria Vladimirovna and her son and other members of the Romanov family.

Photos: The Diocese of Ekaterinburg Text: OrthoChristian.com

[trash-magics-blog]

Father, Son and Holy Ghost

* I just kinda winged the whole thing, if you want leave tips and stuff, anything is appreciated! *

The day was Easter Sunday and the church was having a celebration. You were hanging out with your friends Johnny Mactavish and Kyle Garrick, you had known the two from serving time in the army, thankfully you and the rest of your team had gotten time to come back to town and celebrate Easter with everyone, it was something you didn't really get to do much so it meant a lot to you and everyone else.

As everyone was mingling and the kids were playing and the sun was shining, you noticed a certain someone wasn't anywhere to be seen outside celebrating. Simon Riley, the high priest of the church. You had talked to him after almost every congregation and you quite liked him, everything about him. He was a rather quiet man and always wore a black face mask but no one ever questioned it so you didn't either.

As you were eyeing around for Simon, Johnny had caught you searching, “Who ya lookin for lass?” His accent always seemed to make you smile. “Father Simon, have you seem him anywhere?” You asked, to which Johnny suggested to look in the church and that he was probably cleaning up from the early morning assembly.

You started to make your way inside but before you could make it some of the kids had called to show you the eggs they decorated, the kids were your friend Alejandro’s nieces and you loved them as your own, always dreaming of having your own kids, your own family, one to call your own. As you were playing with the kids and laughing with them a pair of unnoticed eyes had been watching you.

Simon was standing at an upstairs window that lead into his office. He liked to keep a close eye on you whenever he could and plus, the sundress you were wearing peaked his interest, yellow always looked good on you. He noticed how happy you had seemed with the kids as well, he always wondered how he would be as a dad, as a husband.Your husband. He wanted to love you so bad.

As he left the window all his mind could trail back to was you, you and that damned sundress, it hugged your body just right and the way your hair fell ever so messily around your face just made him crave you in every way. He loved you, your voice, your presence and just how gentle you were with him, the simple little things that you did made him weak.

Before he knew it he had a certain, problem… he was sat back at his desk and needed to relieve this pain. Simon had never really thought about touching you, or himself to the thought of you before but right now, it was all you and you only. The thought of you, down on your knees below his desk, face all fucked out and throat sore from his cock. He had shamelessly started to palm at his erection. The thought of you being sat oh so prettily on him while you fills out papers, your little whimpers and moans… oh how Simon needed to touch you and feel you.

“Ah fuck..” Simon couldn't take much more, even though he wasn't even like, fully touching himself he was still so overstimulated at just the thought of you. One last stroke to his erection and he was gone, as he came he let out broken moans and whimpers. Simon was a sweaty mess by now, and he felt embarrassed. How could he do that in the church, the church of which he is the high priest of. As much as he resented it, he also felt oddly prideful, if he must kneel and repent to any holy being to be let into heaven now, it was gonna be you, for you are the most holy and heavenly being to him. To Simon, you were heaven and he would go to confession a hundred times over to just get a glimpse of you.

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

The Ark Enters the Temple

So all the work that Solomon had performed for the house of the LORD was completed.

Then Solomon brought in the items his father David had dedicated—the silver, the gold, and all the furnishings—and he placed them in the treasuries of the house of God.

At that time Solomon assembled in Jerusalem the elders of Israel—all the tribal heads and family leaders of the Israelites—to bring up the ark of the covenant of the LORD from Zion, the City of David. So all the men of Israel came together to the king at the feast in the seventh month.

When all the elders of Israel had arrived, the Levites took up the ark, and they brought up the ark and the Tent of Meeting with all its sacred furnishings. The Levitical priests carried them up.

There, before the ark, King Solomon and the whole congregation of Israel who had assembled with him sacrificed so many sheep and oxen that they could not be counted or numbered.

Then the priests brought the ark of the covenant of the LORD to its place in the inner sanctuary of the temple, the Most Holy Place, beneath the wings of the cherubim. For the cherubim spread their wings over the place of the ark and overshadowed the ark and its poles.

The poles of the ark extended far enough that their ends were visible from in front of the inner sanctuary, but not from outside the Holy Place; and they are there to this day.

There was nothing in the ark except the two tablets that Moses had placed in it at Horeb, where the LORD had made a covenant with the Israelites after they had come out of Egypt.

Now all the priests who were present had consecrated themselves regardless of their divisions. And when the priests came out of the Holy Place, all the Levitical singers—Asaph, Heman, Jeduthun, and their sons and relatives—stood on the east side of the altar, dressed in fine linen and playing cymbals, harps, and lyres, accompanied by 120 priests sounding trumpets. The trumpeters and singers joined together to praise and thank the LORD with one voice. They lifted up their voices, accompanied by trumpets, cymbals, and musical instruments, in praise to the LORD:

“For He is good; His loving devotion endures forever.”

And the temple, the house of the LORD, was filled with a cloud so that the priests could not stand there to minister because of the cloud; for the glory of the LORD filled the house of God. — 2 Chronicles 5 | The Reader’s Bible (BRB) The Reader’s Bible © 2020 by Bible Hub and Berean.Bible. All rights Reserved. Cross References: Exodus 40:20; Exodus 40:35; Joshua 3:6; 2 Samuel 6:12; 2 Samuel 8:11; 1 Kings 7:51; 1 Kings 8:1-2; 1 Kings 8:8-9; 1 Kings 8:11; 1 Chronicles 13:8; 1 Chronicles 15:16; 1 Chronicles 22:19; 1 Chronicles 24:1; 2 Chronicles 7:2; 2 Chronicles 7:8; 2 Chronicles 23:18; Ezekiel 41:4; Hebrews 9:4; Revelation 15:8

[thepastisalreadywritten]

SAINT OF THE DAY (October 16)

On October 16, we celebrate the feast of St. Gerard Majella.

St. Gerard was born on 6 April 1726 as the son of a tailor. He grew up about fifty miles south of Naples in Muro Lucano, Italy, in a large, poor family.

When Gerard was only 12, his father Dominic Majella entered eternal rest. Upon the death of his father, his mother, beholden to poverty, sent Gerard away to live with his uncle.

Gerard thereafter became an apprentice to a tailor. This tailor treated him well; however, the foreman treated him poorly.

After serving as a sewing apprentice for a couple years, he instead became a servant in the household of the bishop of Lacedonia, who was a cantankerous master.

Upon the death of the bishop in 1745, he returned home. At the age of 21, he became a journeyman.

He split his earnings for his mother and the poor, and made offerings for the holy souls in purgatory. Afterwards, he opened his own tailor shop.

At a young age, Gerard tried to join the local Capuchins, but he was turned down twice due to his youth and poor health.

He also tried to become a hermit but that too was not God's will for him.

He then entered the Congregation of the Most Holy Redeemer in 1749 and professed of perpetual vows under the Redemptorist's founder, Saint Alphonsus Liguori, in 1751.

He served as tailor and infirmarian. He became known for his extraordinary supernatural gifts of bilocation, prophecy, ecstasies, visions, and infused knowledge.

Though not ordained to the holy order of priest, his spiritual direction and advice were sought by many among the clergy and communities of nuns, to which he also gave conferences.

He was most successful in converting sinners. He was also widely known for his sanctity and charity.

In 1754, he was calumniated and accused of lechery by a woman named Neria Caggiano.

Caggiano later admitted her charge was a lie. Even before she admitted to her falsehood, Gerard did not deny her charges.

As these charges were still up in the air, his superiors became suspicious, so they put him under surveillance and excluded him from communion for months until the girl admitted that she had lied.

When asked by Saint Alphonsus why he had kept silent in such circumstances, Gerard replied that he thought such patience was required in the face of unjust accusations.

As he bore this calumny with such humility and patience, Saint Alphonsus said, "Brother Gerard is a saint."

Gerard was sent to Naples soon after, but when the house was inundated by visitors wanting to see him, he was sent to Caposele a few months later.

He served as the porter there and ministered to the poor of the town. He spent the last few months of his life raising funds for new buildings at Caposele.

Just prior to his death, he visited his friends, the Pirofalo family. One of the daughters ran and called after him as he left the home, as he dropped his handkerchief.

Speaking through the gift of prophecy, he replied, "Keep it. It will be useful to you someday."

Years down the road, when this young woman was in danger of childbirth, she recalled these words of St. Gerard and requested the handkerchief.

The handkerchief was applied to her, thus a miracle: her pain immediately ceased and she gave birth to a healthy child.

St. Gerard died of tuberculosis on 16 October 1755 at the age of 29 in Caposele.

He was beatified by Pope Leo XIII on 29 January 1893. He was canonized by Pope Saint Pius X on 11 December 1904.

He is the patron saint of mothers, motherhood, expectant mothers, childbirth, children, pregnant women, unborn children, the pro-life movement, the falsely accused, good confessions, and lay brothers.

[theriu]

Ok but like, what is a Mennonite?

Great question! I’d first like to preface that I am far, far from an expert on this; I go to and was raised in a Mennonite Church, but we are a little odd because we’re the only Mennonite church around (you often find several in a community) and we don’t uphold the typical dress code of head coverings and skirts. Also my mom was the daughter of an army chaplain, so because of her experiences growing up and being around people of many Christian groups combined, we are pretty comfortable with many denominations. Here are some basics, though:

Mennonites are part of the Anabaptist movement, which is largely noted (among other things) for believing that people should choose baptism as adults as a sign of their commitment to Christ, rather than be baptized as infants.

We do still do dedications, which is where the parents and baby go up front at church and oil is put on the baby’s head and the congregation verbally commits to helping raise the child to know the Lord - basically showing they plan to be a good and supportive church family for this new member and the family.

Another notable difference is peaceful noncombatance. Mennonites generally hold that using force is wrong and that we shouldn’t join the military because it divides our allegiance between God and our country. This is another one that my church, at least, is more relaxed on - at least one of our members is a police officer, and my brother wanted to join the national guard (he couldn’t due to a minor but chronic medical issue). Also, as mentioned, my grandpa (who was not a Mennonite) was an army chaplain. I support my brothers and sisters in Christ who choose military service, but I also respect those who feel they should stay apart from it (and count myself one of them).

Fun Fact: Mennonites and German Baptists and other Anabaptist denominations are often confused with Amish because we are all Anabaptists and we all have a tradition of the women wearing head coverings and old-fashioned-ish skirts/dresses. However, the Amish came after the Mennonites, and Mennonites aren’t against using electricity or owning technology and such. I wont speak further on that because I am even less of an expert on Amish customs. (I mentioned German Baptists because I see them frequently around where I live; I know little of their differences from Mennonites except their head coverings are typically a cute boxy shape instead of the flat lace circle traditional Mennonite women wear.)

These next ones are, I think, pretty common across many or most denominations, and they are what I consider the core tenets of faith in Christ:

Jesus Christ is the Son of God and part of the Trinity (the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit are all one God but are also distinct persons).

Jesus came to Earth as both fully man and fully God, He lived a sinless life and died on the cross to pay the debt of our sins so we could be reunited with God, and He rose from the dead to defeat the death that is the just punishment for our sin.

The Bible is the Word of God and it is true and good for guiding, teaching, comforting, and correcting.

We all have free will, and while God desires all people to be saved, the gift of salvation is freely offered, and we must choose to take it. We are saved by accepting Jesus as our Lord and Savior and asking forgiveness of our sins, accepting his payment of our debt.

We cannot “earn” our salvation through good works, but genuine faith in Christ should lead to doing good works as a demonstration of our love for Him and of His love for others.

The Holy Spirit is the one mediator between us and God, and we can ask the Holy Spirit to pray through us when we don’t know how to express what we want to pray. God always answers our prayers, even if the answer is “No” or “Wait,” and we can trust that His answers are for our good and His glory, even when we can’t see how from our limited perspective here on Earth.

I think that’s a decent summary, but let me know if you have questions or are interested in the Bible verses that support the different points. And thanks for asking!

[cruger2984]

THE DESCRIPTION OF SAINT FRANCIS BORGIA The Patron Against Earthquakes Feast Day: September 30, October 3 (Jesuit calendar)

Francis Borgia (Francisco de Borja y Aragón) gave up incredible wealth, power and privilege as a Spanish nobleman to enter the Society of Jesus where his experience brought him to leadership as the third superior general of the young Society of Jesus. The oldest son of the third duke of Gandía, Borgia was born in the family palace in Valencia. His great grandfather on his father's side was Pope Alexander VI, and his mother's grandfather was King Ferdinand the Catholic.

Like other young nobles he was trained for life at court, and in 1522 was appointed page to his cousin Catherine, the sister of Emperor Charles V who invited him back to court after he studied philosophy for three years. In 1529, he married Leonor de Castro of Portugal, Empress Isabella's first lady-in-waiting. The 20 year-old Borgia was honored by the Emperor who named him Marquis of Llombai, and placed him in charge of the imperial household. During the next 10 years, Francis and Eleanor had eight children and lived in great familiarity with Charles and Isabella, until the Empress unexpectedly died on May 1, 1539.

Her death led directly to Borgia's conversion when Francis accompanied the funeral cortege to the burial place in the royal chapel in Granada. When the coffin was opened, he saw not the beautiful face of the 36-year-old queen, but a face beyond recognition. Not wanting to serve another master who would die, he began to devote himself to prayer and penance.

After he returned from Granada, he was appointed Viceroy of Catalonia in June 1539, and then became the fourth duke of Gandía after his father died four years later. He returned to the family palace to manage his estates, but when his wife Leonor died March 27, 1546, he resolved to dedicate the rest of his life to God's service. He was familiar with the Jesuits, having founded a Jesuit college in Gandía and being a personal friend of Father Peter Favre whom he asked to inform Ignatius of his decision. Ignatius welcomed him into the Society but recommended that he tell no one until he arranged affairs for his children and finished studying theology. Meanwhile, the founder of the Jesuits encouraged the duke to continue living as a nobleman. Francis pronounced his vows as a Jesuit on Feb. 1, 1548 and on Aug. 20, 1550 earned a doctorate in theology from the university which he himself had founded.

Since 1550 was a Holy Year, Francis took the opportunity to make a pilgrimage to Rome so he could visit Ignatius and arrange his public entrance into the Society of Jesus. He left his home in Gandía, never to see it again, and lodged in the Jesuit residence in Rome with Ignatius rather than taking Pope Julius III's offer to stay in the Borgia apartments in the Vatican. After living as a Jesuit from the end of October until early February 1551, he returned to Spain where he resigned his title in favor of his son, Carlos. As soon as he received the Emperor's letter accepting his resignation, Francis donned the Jesuit cassock. He was ordained a priest on May 23 and celebrated his first Mass in the chapel in the Loyola family home.

For a few years Borgia worked as an ordinary parish priest. In 1554 he was named Commissary General in Spain, with power over provincials in Spain and Portugal. He founded Spain's first novitiate, at Simancas, and set up over 20 schools. He did not attend the first general congregation, convened almost two years after Ignatius died, but did return to Rome in 1561 at Pope Pius IV's request. He was chosen to be vicar general when Father James Laínez, who succeeded Ignatius as superior general, attended the last session of the Council of Trent. Upon Laínez's return, Borgia became assistant for Spain and Portugal, and then was elected to succeed Laínez after his death in 1565.

Borgia served as the third superior general of the Jesuits for seven years and devoted himself to revising the Society's rules, expanding its missions in India and the Americas, and shepherding the growth of the young Society.

His final project was a mission to Spain accompanying Cardinal Michele Bonelli in an effort to secure Spain's help against the Turks. The two churchmen left Rome in June 1571, and arrived in Barcelona by the end of August. Borgia was overwhelmed by the reception he received from people who had known him as a nobleman and honored his choice of religious life. In December, Borgia left Spain for France to continue the diplomatic mission, but he fell ill from fever and pleurisy because of the unusually cold. He had to spend weeks resting in Turin on the return trip to Rome and then stayed with relatives in Ferrara during the summer.

Finally, he set out for Rome on Sept. 3, 1572, going to bed immediately upon his arrival. His final illness lasted three days before the 61-year-old general died during the night of September 30.

Source: jesuits.global