Father O'Hara, a vampire priest with a mysterious and dark past, struggles with his dual existence as a devoted cleric and a creature of the night. He meets a compassionate nun at the Abbey, where his conflicting worlds collide. Despite his eternal solitude and the inherent danger of his vampiric nature, Father O'Hara finds himself irresistibly drawn to her kindness and faith.
tags: AU! Religion, Religious imagery and symbolism, use of catholic rites, rituals and practices, Reader-insert, reader is a nun, forbidden love, fluff, angst, eventual smut MDNI!!
warnings: peeping tom behavior, semi public sex, fingering, pinv sex, murder, ripping apart a body (only a quick mention ei no explicit details), masturbation, biting (vampire shit), light gore,
Summary: You and Lyla got soup kitchen duty (yay) and Father O'Hara is being weird but like also makes some revelations.
Pairing: Priest!Vampire!Miguel O'Hara/Nun!reader
warnings: ✧˖°. Dream Drowning.°˖✧
a/n: Yes you read that right, dream drowning, drowning but in a dream, I didn't know how to explain it, but i figured drowning could be a trigger for someone so it's going in the warnings.
Sadly, breakfast wasn’t as wonderful as yesterday’s. All the bland food left you wanting more and ended up going to chapel hungry. You sat in your spot next to Lyla, who also looked starved. Her hand clutched her stomach as you got comfortable.
“They can’t do this to us,” she whines, “they have to ease us back into the underwhelming food,” she pretends to faint against you. You chuckle and lean into her. “Hey, what are you planning for today, since the Father is still gone?” She asked, still leaning against your side.
“Well, If there’s not alot of work in the library today, I’ll come visit, if that’s what you're asking,” You jab your finger into her side and she jolts up straight. She shoots a glare at you.
“Yes, I did want you to come visit, but if you’re going to be mean, then nevermind,” She crosses her arms and looks away from you. You smile and pull her into a hug. She begins to laugh as the other sisters start to quiet their conversations.
“Good morning, Sisters,” Abbess Drew’s voice rang out against the lingering chatter. The group responded back. “Today we are extending a helping hand to the wonderful townsfolk who run the soup kitchen,” that excites a mummer out of the other sisters. You look over at Lyla, who has her fingers crossed and eyes closed, muttering something. “I’ve already drawn names. Ten of you will be going today.”
You lean closer to Lyla to figure out what she's muttering. “Not me. Not me, not me,” you looked at her confused.
You hear Abbess Drew’s voice but you’re not registering the names she’s saying. You’re more concerned with why Lyla doesn’t want to help out at the soup kitchen. She looked like she had started praying. You start to panic, not knowing what has gotten into your friend. You hear Abbess Drew call out your name. You quickly flick your eyes to the abbess then back at Lyla. She looked at you with horror. Then squeezed her eyes shut with all her might and muttered louder than before. The pleading became more apparent. “And last but not least, Sister Lyla” Lyla looked down in defeat. You looked between her and the Abbess with confusion written all over your face. “With the lingering threat of animal attack, I wish for you to pair up for the day. You, ten, will leave for the kitchen after morning prayers. Thank you and have a blessed day!” Abbess Drew bowed and let the priest come up to give the morning sermon.
“What was that about?” You whispered.
“I always get soup kitchen duty,” she leans closer to you. “It’s like,” she looks over at the abbess, “it’s like she has it out against me,” she throws herself back against the pew in a huff. “Ever since I joined here. Three years worth of soup kitchen sank!” she started counting on her hand, “that’s almost 200 times since being here,” She huffed.
“Well, this time I’ll be going,” you put your hand on her arm. “We’ll make the best out of it, hey, maybe you might even have fun,” You raised your eyebrows to see if she’ll take the bait.
“You’re right we will have fun!” she said louder than she should have, as Abbess Drew looked over at the two of you. You two snicker and pretend to listen to the rest of the priest’s sermon.
“Do you ever wonder why Father Parker or Father O’Hara never do the sister’s morning sermon?” Lyla accuses as the two of you walk to the entrance of the abbey. You stopped in your tracks and thought about what she said. You tried to pull any memory of them before he had asked you to help. You remember seeing Father Parker around when you first got here plus seeing him hog towers of books in the library. You knew him and Sister Stacy had gotten close when he started showing up all the time but for the love of god you couldn’t even remember seeing Father O’Hara around the abbey ever before meeting him. You had heard of him but never more than chatter from the other sisters.
“I don’t even think I saw Father O’Hara before the day he asked me to help him,” You said. Then it was Lyla’s turn to think. You pushed open the door for her as she stopped to think. You stare at her waiting for her to move.
“I think I saw him a couple times when he did confession in the main chapel,” She said exiting the abbey. “He never looked happy to be there. He must have been excited to be chosen for the Easter exhibit. Not having to do the normal priest stuff, like talking to the public or doing sermons for the sisters,” She laughed.
“His sermons would be boring,” you let slip as the two of you crossed the street.
“Why do you say that?” she looked at you stunned, “I thought you liked him,”
“I do, I respect that he’s a man of the cloth but after seeing him work on this exhibit…” You paused and looked at her with disgust. “He’s too,” you searched for a good word, “analytical?” Lyla gives you a look of confusion, “he thinks too literally. He gives the facts straight up. He never makes it into a story.”
“And that would make his sermon suck because?”
“I feel like he would tell us what’s literally in the bible, while the other Father’s make it all fantastical. They tell us the story and meaning, what we’re supposed to be taking away from it. They give us something to work with. They make it easy to use those lessons in our own lives.”
You look at Lyla who is nodding. “Yeah, I don’t get it,” she looks at you with a wide smile. “Ask him if he’ll do a sermon for the sisters one day. Then maybe I’ll understand what you mean.”
“I’ll try to remember,” you scoff at her.
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Father O’Hara looked dead. He was covered in blood, laying in the middle of the woods. He wasn’t sleeping. One could reason he was meditating, if you squint and tilt your head. He didn’t know what he was doing. He didn’t have a plan to explain why he was covered in blood, or why he was just laying in the dirt. But he could explain that he was listening to the birds. They were faint, not daring to get close to the looming threat that was laying on the ground.
He learned quickly that animals avoided him at all cost. They could sense that he wasn’t a human, that he was more than just a threat, that he was death itself. But one thing he did learn through experimenting, was if he laid still and slowed his breathing, the animals would get close enough for him to hear their calls.
He loved animals before he turned. He always grew up with dogs and he enjoyed caring for the animals in the lab. He liked sitting outside his townhouse in New York and listening to the birds who made their homes on the ledges of people’s windows. He loved watching the squirrels run across the streets and when he was younger he visited a farm and connected with the barn cats. He enjoyed reading about the exotic beasts in far away lands and always dreamed about retiring with thousands of different animals.
He closed his eyes and listened to the birds sing their many songs. He cleared his mind and breathed softly, as the songs drifted him into sleep.
He stood looking down at the river. The beautiful clear mountain spring ran ice cold. His reflection is distorted by the current's ripples. He crouches down and cups his hand in the water. He brings the cool water to his lips and drinks. He swore he could feel the water rejuvenate him. He looked towards the center of the stream. A head peeked out from under the water.
Your hair splayed out in the water, You only let your eyes over the surface. You stare at the man in front of you. His brown hair is graying in some areas. His normally brown eyes were twinged with a red hue. His clothes were torn and tattered. He was covered in dirt and blo0d. He leans back to a more relaxed position. He sits on the bank and looks back at you. His expression is hard. He doesn’t smile or frown, his eyes read nothing but indifference. He doesn’t hate you, but he can’t trust himself around you. You reach out your hand to him.
“No,” he says. You dip under the water and swim closer to his feet. You resurface and he looks down at you. Once again you hold out your hand. “You’ll be the death of me,” with that he takes your hand. You pull him in and the two of you swim around with each other. His face clears up each time he dives below the surface. You never take your eyes off him. He doesn’t coward away from your striking gaze. He looks as if he’s almost inviting you in.
He swims closer to you. A small smile forms as he brings his hand in yours once again. He skillfully raises your hand to his lips. He looks back at your gaze then closes his eyes and kisses your knuckles. He pulls your hand over his shoulder as you drift closer to him. He hangs his head low and brushes his lips against your arm. His other hand brings his cold fingers to your cheek. You flinch away at the sudden coldness. He cups your face and brings you closer to him. He leans down to kiss you as you smile and lean away. You watch through your eyelashes as he chases your lips. Your small giggle was music to his ears as he opened his eyes. He moves his hand to the back of your neck. You shake him off and grab his hands.
You bring him out to the center of the river, the deepest point. He maintains his eyes on yours as you bring him deeper into the river. Once you had reached the point you wanted, You pulled him closer. You pull his hand above the water. He presses his palm to yours as the two of you study each other's hands. You flicked your eyes to him, catching him looking back. His hand slips down your wrist and closes his fingers around you. He looks at you for a hint of fear, Nothing. Your breathing is steady, your heartbeat stays the same. He smiles and brings your wrist to his mouth. He kisses the vein. He looks at you as he opens his mouth to bite.
“Not yet,” Your voice causes his chest to tighten as his bulge tightens his pants. His grip tightens as a response. Your other hand comes to undo him on your wrist.
You balance his hand on the surface of the water, silently begging him to keep it there. He takes note of your expression and lets his hand float on the surface of the water. Your feather touch to his other hand makes him slowly understand what you’re wanting him to do. He relaxes his body into the water and lets himself float on the surface. You lightly place your hands on the sides of his head. You lean down and place a faint kiss on his forehead. His chest tightens at your action. You move to his middle. You place one hand on his lower back and on just below his shoulders. He relaxes into you. He feels weightless as you hold him in the water.
You close your eyes and silently pray. You look at Father O’Hara and he nods his head in agreement. You bring his head under water once. The silence of the water sent a wave of sickly calm through him. Father. You bring him back up, he looks at you with a softness he didn’t know he had in him. You bring him down once more. He thought about the image he saw. You with the sun filtering through your hair. Something almost angelic about your present. The thought of danger or uncertainty is long gone. Son. he resurfaces, feeling something swell in his chest. And for the last time you bring his head under the water. He wishes he could spend the rest of time looking at you. The vow he made tells him god doesn’t want him to touch, so he won't. He’ll just study from afar. He had made up his mind at that moment. God forbade therefore he will obey. He feels a hand on his forehead. The hand pushes him deeper into the water. The hand was small against his head. He knew it was yours. He knows he’s supposed to panic but he doesn’t. He didn’t understand why you were drowning him. He thinks about all the things he did to deserve this and he agrees that this must be God's punishment. Let the thing that he wants most kill him before he can tempt her to sin. He lets out his breath and sinks deeper into the water, letting the dark pull him closer.
He wakes up. He’s not panicked, nor angry. He just sits there. The silence of the woods brings no peace to him. He feels sick. The growing need to see you lives in his chest. He gets up from the dirt and looks around himself, no one. His head spins as he brings himself to walk. There was no rush to his pace. He walks as if in a trance. Swaying back and forth, just with one goal on his mind. To see you.
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You and Lyla were asked to say later to help clean up after the full day of serving people. They had specifically asked for the two of you because “Those two never had their smile faded the whole time they were here.” which is in part to you and Lyla goofing off the majority of the time. Mind, you still did what you were told to do, which was to put food onto the tray for the people in line. But there were moments when Lyla would make faces at you to make you laugh.
Now the two of you were elbow deep in hotel pans and nasty sink water. But without fail, Lyla was making you laugh.
“No, did you see that one guy! The way he chewed, Oh my, I couldn’t keep a straight face,” she giggled.
“Or the woman without teeth trying to eat the chicken,” You tried to hold back a laugh as you scrubbed away. Lyla on the other hand was hunched over laughing. You glanced up to the window above the sink. You saw a figure standing there in the dark. You tapped Lyla who was trying to catch her breath. “Lyla,” your voice gave away your seriousness. She looked up at you and her smile dropped.
She quickly followed to where you were looking. She leans forward a smidge and squints. “Tree?” she offers.
“There was a person,” you weren’t letting her brush it off.
“Nah, it's” she turns to you and gets low, “the beast!” She jumps and wraps her arms around you. The two of you laugh and go back to washing the dishes.
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Father O’Hara stood in the darkness outside the kitchen. He watched you and Lyla laughing. He smiled to himself. He was happy you had someone. Now, he didn’t have to worry as much about you when he wasn’t around. He stood there longer than he should have, but he didn’t care. He thought you were so beautiful when you were laughing with Lyla.
He sees you look up through the window. He watches your face drop. You had looked down at Lyla so he took his chance to hide behind the tree. He stayed there for a bit, back against the hard tree. After a few seconds he looked around the tree to see if you were still looking. Lyla was hugging you so he made his way closer to the window.
He heard you and Lyla talking.
He steadied his breathing when he heard Lyla ask, “Do you think you could leave the church? Like that one sister did? Like if you had met someone, would you risk leaving the church to go see if you’d might be happy with them?”
He perked up at the question. He didn’t think any of the sisters would ever talk like that even if they were away from the abbey. But he was interested in your answer.
All he heard was dishes clanking around. But you never called her out for even thinking about that, he was hopeful about your answer. Since he couldn’t see your face he figured you were thinking.
“Hmm, I don’t think I’ve thought about it,” You answered, the sound of dishes got quieter. “I think I would.” He raises his eyebrow at your answer. He never thought the little church mouse would ever think about doing something like that.
“Really? You would leave if you met someone,” Lyla’s voice saturated in shock. He chuckled to himself. Maybe he had you all wrong.
“Yeah, but it wouldn’t just be for anyone.” You paused and he took a moment to look up at you through the window, “I know if I were to find the one I would leave,” You smiled softly out the window, looking far past him. He saw your smile and his chest tightened once again. He looked down at his hands. He didn’t understand why you had this effect on him. He sat below the window as you and Lyla finished up your work.
A pain of hunger shot through him. He groaned. He knew that the more he spends time with you the more the hunger will consume him. He’s afraid that one day the hunger will never stop, you’ll see who he really is. A beast.
He thought about your reaction. And for once he was torn between what he wanted to see. He wants to see you scared and trembling at the thought of him possibly hurting you but there’s a new side to him. This new side wants you to see him as the good man he tries to be, a priest and hopefully one day the one you wish about. He wants to see you look up at him filled with unwavering love.
He sat there, back against the old building. Listening to you and Lyla talking and he came to the realization that he wanted better for you. Right then and there he vowed to become better for you.
On the way back it was dark, which he noted that the soup kitchen either sent a letter with the other sisters or were about to get one that will not be pleasant from the abbess. He stayed many feet behind you two. He liked it better that way. He knew the beast was made up by the townspeople and that the threat was himself. But he still wanted to watch you go back to the abbey. He wasn’t sure if it was even about safety in the first place.
But he did know that at the core it was a selfish reason. He just wanted to see you. You, the one who consumed most of his thoughts since he first saw you. The one who tells him to step away from the facts and talk to people like… well, people. The one who always gets him dinner when he asks even though you notice he will never eat it. The one who smells like lilacs and loves reading. The One.
He never was sure of anything before in his life, but seeing you walk down the road, arms linked with Lyla, he became sure of one thing, He wants to be your God.
Summary: Father O’Hara enjoys a rare morning of rest but is troubled by pain and guilt over his violent past. He leaves for a nearby town under the guise of a church meeting, only to indulge his dark urges. Meanwhile, you receive his letter and ponder unsettling thoughts about his whereabouts. Father O’Hara's journey ends in a brutal attack on a campsite, where he prays for forgiveness, tormented by his actions and desire for you.
Pairings: Priest!Vampire!Miguel O'Hara/Nun!reader
warnings: gore.
a/n: hey, so this chapter contains gore. I just want to show how the anger of not having you and the conflict with religion are eating at him and the only way he can take it out is on his victims.
Within the pile of blankets, Father O'Hara is slowly waking up to the rustle of the morning tasks of the other priest. He slowly grew fond of being able to sleep in. The Easter project allowed him to skip the dreadful tasks of a priest. He stayed tucked into his bed for as long as possible. He lay there peacefully not wanting this wonderful moment of slumber. Until, a pain shot through his stomach. A warm liquid filled his mouth as he groaned about what that meant for him. He rolled over and slowly opened his eyes to the morning sun.
He bore holes into the curtains as he thought about a plan. I know I can't keep killing here. the townspeople will come after someone if I get sloppy and kill someone who meant something to someone. He figured out what he'd do and started to craft parts of his plan. He scribbled down a letter for Abbess Drew. He read it over and sealed it in the envelope. He dug through his trunk to find his old camping gear from when he would go with his father.
He put the bag by the door and went to Abbes Drew's office. He lightly knocked on the door. She opened it with a scowl. "What?" Her tone was harsh but completely valid.
"I am called to speak to a church about five towns over. I'm sorry. Please give this to my Sister," He mentally cursed at the choice of words which thankfully went unnoticed by the half-asleep Abbess.
"Ok, Be safe," She closed the door. He ran around looking for Father Parker. He explained the same lie he had told Abbess Drew and then ran to get his bag. He felt famished as he started on his trip to the neighboring town.
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You sit at the edge of your bed. Your eyes stare at the crack in the floor. Your mind only replays the events of last night. You feel a whisper of his hand grabbing your chin. The feeling you had that night brews in your stomach.
"I need to get ready," You whispered to yourself. This doesn't prompt anything, you are still sitting there on the edge of your bed, staring at the floor.
"Hurry up," You hear a voice from the other side of the door. "I want to get the food when it's still hot. I heard it was something pancakey. Hurry up," Lyla yells into the door.
"Give me a minute. You go ahead without me," You yell back as you force yourself up from the bed. The weight of gravity makes your neck hurt. You grab the pile of clothes in your closet. You slowly put on your wares. Your habit sits uncomfortably today. Rubbing your eyes clean as you open your door.
Groggily making your way to the dining hall. You managed to keep your eyes closed for as long as possible until Abbess Drew called out your name. You opened them weakly.
"Didn't get much sleep, huh?" She laughs.
"I was tossing and turning all night." You exhaled and looked at her hands.
"Something troubling you dear?" you shook your head in response. "Well, this is from Father O'Hara. He will be out of town for the next couple of days. He asked me to give this to you" She hands you the letter and slightly bows before walking back to her office.
You open the letter to find his "in a rush" handwriting.
My holy Sister,
I was called to speak on behalf of this region's churches at a meeting. I will be gone for the better part of three days. I know you will make the best out of the time you have.
God Bless,
Father O'Hara
You folded up the letter and put it in your pocket. She never told me where I've been placed to... You make a mental note to ask her after chapel, but for right now you're more concerned with the heavenly smell coming from the dining room. You pushed open the doors and made your way through the line to grab breakfast. You looked at all the food options. There was more meat than the usual bacon or sausage. There were more fruits than you could think about. And the star itself, Pancakes. You chuckled at the insider info you had gotten this morning.
You had grabbed a little of everything and made your way to Lyla. She moved over and you slid in next to her. "I guess this is from a local. Her husband passed and she was impressed with his service as a thanks she gave us this," She explains. Where does she get this information? You began to dig into the treat of this breakfast. Lyla looks at you weirdly and then reaches for the paper sticking out of your pocket. "What's this?" and your question was finally answered. You glared at her.
"Father O'Hara was called out of town and that's his letter." You continued to savor your breakfast.
"That's completely out of nowhere. You'd think there would be chatter about a priest leaving for a couple of days." She sips on her drink. "What do you think it is?"
"I was just asking," Lyla brushes off her comment.
"He had gotten a good amount of letters the past couple of days. I'm guessing it was buried in that pile till he opened it last night and rushed because it starts tonight," You answered while trying to pile as much fruit onto your fork. Lyla took that as gospel and left the topic alone.
"Where are you placed then?" Sister Margo asked.
"Abbess didn't tell me when she handed me this. I was going to ask her after chapel but It's most likely going to be in the library." You answered as you shoved the forkful of fruit into your mouth.
"Yeah, Probably," Sister Margo said. Lyla and her got up to put their dishes into the bin. They came back and chatted between them, letting you finish eating in peace. You can clean your plate and walk to put it in the bin. Lyla and Sister Margo followed behind you. The three of you walked to the chapel and waited for morning prayers to start.
"What if it isn't a meeting?" Lyla asks.
"I'm starting to hate when you start sentences like that," Sister Margo scoffs.
"I'm just saying. It is a little sudden to be leaving for a meeting. Those take time to prepare," She says fiddling with a hymn book.
"As I started earlier, He probably only read the letter last night and decided to leave early this morning. Nothing suspicious." You huffed as Abbess Drew stood up. Everyone fell into a hush. She begins the reading of her ancient bible. You listened intently to hopefully not let Lyla's words sneak in to freak you out. She was reading a passage from John. The passage explains the beliefs of Christians. You listened to Abbess Drew's satin voice read out the verses. One stood out to you. 'This is the verdict: Light has come into the world, but people loved darkness instead of light because their deeds were evil.'
You continued to listen to Abbess Drew speak. It reminded you of the book you had read—the one about mythical creatures. You had originally found it when you had started at the abbey but you like to read it at least twice a year. You thought the stories were so fantastical. But this passage reminds you of one creature—the Vampire.
You spent the rest of the morning thinking about how the ancient Christians probably loved the story of the vampire since it proved everything being said in the book of John. How people who do their bidding at night hate the light. The Vampires are just the extreme version of that.
Lyla had fallen asleep on your shoulder. Her habit moved and started to show a peak of her chestnut hair. You looked down at her sleeping face. You were grateful to have found her.
Abbess Drew started to pray as you nudged Lyla awake. She looked at you with sleepy eyes and looked around. She realized it was prayer and looked down as Abbess Drew finished the closing prayer. Once Abbess Drew said Amen, Lyla leaned over and asked if you wanted to sit with her in the main chapel while she did her duties. You nodded and the two of you were off to the stained-glass chapel.
"I hear one of the sisters wants to leave the church." Lyla comments.
"Leave permanently or move churches?" You asked. "I'd understand wanting to leave here, but it's a whole other story if she's leaving the capital C church." You looked around the garden.
"They say she fell in love with a townsman. She wants to leave so she can marry him." Her voice was low. "I understand that but I don't think she understands what would happen if she leaves the church," She clenches her fists.
"I say, we should be supportive. She found someone she truly loves. And I doubt the church would close their doors to her just because she left to get married. Especially if she married a god-fearing man," You swung opening the door for her. Lyla walks in.
"You're right. As long as she's happy." She whispers. "On another note, Someone was not happy last night," She picks up a broom. "I heard one of the Fathers talking about 'whoever slammed the door last night will get what's coming for them'" She lifted her hands and gestured air quotes. Her mocking of one of the fathers was kind of funny though.
"Who was it?" You asked as you picked a duster. You brushed off a layer of dust from the shelves.
"Someone mentioned Father Parker was mad at something," She said, looking at you. "Got any info?"
"Not that I know of. Father O'Hara dismissed me about an hour after sunset and I walked to my room. I don't know how long he stayed in his office." You shished the duster around the paintings. You had stopped, thinking about last night.
Lyla looked at you. She pointed the end of the broom at you, "Spill, what do you know?"
"He sent me out alone last night." You whispered.
"And? You're fine. You are fine, right?" She walks up to you, checking for any injuries.
"I'm fine. I was a little jumpy and when I got back it was weird."
"In what way?"
"He asked if I was scared of him," You looked at her and she made a face that could only be described as 'WTF' personified. "But I was still freaked out about going out alone that I couldn't say anything so I shook my head. Then he said it was getting late and that we should end for today," You looked at her for reassurance.
"That's we-"
"Oh, Sister, that's where you were. Hello, Sister Lyla," Lyla bowed. Abbess Drew's shoes rang out in the chapel. "I forgot to mention you'll be resigning from the library for today. Sorry about that. But I am glad you found work to do without me telling you," She motions to the duster in your hand. You nodded. "Well, that is all. Have a blessed day, you two," You and Lyla bow as Abbess Drew turns to leave the chapel.
"I guess that was my cue to leave. I'll see you later." You leave Lyla to sweep alone.
You walked back through the garden, stopping to smell some of the newly bloomed flowers. Each one you smiled at. You stepped away from them to return to the main building. You didn't want to leave but you had a duty to do.
You open the door and turn left to the stairwell. You hiked up the three flights of stairs to the floor with the library entrance. The door was already opened as you peeked in to see Sister Gwen sitting at the desk. She was flipping through the pages. You gave a small knock on the door. She looked up and gave a faint smile.
"I didn't know you were returning," She said.
"Last minute change of events," You had made your way to the center desk. You looked around all the log books and to-do lists. "Anything that needs to be done?"
"There have been no returned books, Abbess has the list of fathers that need reminders and no one has been in yet today. So it's gonna be an easy day," She looks over her shoulder.
"Alright, I'll go find something to read. Find me if you need anything," She gave you a thumbs up as you wandered the shelves. You missed this. You missed the smell and the towering shelves. Maybe you will decline the offer to be a full-time assistant. You dragged your hand over the spines of the books. You sighed about how much this place was more your speed.
I wouldn't need to worry about offending him or worry about being sent out in the night, or late hours, everything is very predictable here. Your hand stopped at a book. Villette. You pick up the book and find a spot in one of the window seats. You opened the older book and began to read about the story of Lucy. You were drawn in by the freedom Lucy had after her family's passing.
You read about her wonderful opportunity to become an English teacher. You agreed with Lucy about how Ginevra doesn't desire a man like Dr John. You were uncomfortable when Dr John turned his attention to the young Polly. You were pleasantly surprised by the appearance of a ghost. You fall for the sympathy of M. Paul. You think about how kind he was for supporting his late lover's family.
You didn't realize how heavy your eyes were till you had peacefully fallen asleep in the window.
You had walked into a room. It was familiar to you but you don't know where it was. You sit down at the desk and see a book. You had smiled, knowing it came from your close friend, Miguel. You open the book to find a pamphlet on catholicism. You scoffed at this gesture. The superstitions of the Catholics were too over the top for you. You roll your eyes and begin reading the books.
You blink and now you're outside the garden. You look around confused about how you had gotten there. You scan the garden for any familiar faces. You see Miguel digging in the garden. You walk up to him holding the pamphlet. He looks up at you. "it was my penance for being friends with a protestant." His voice trailed off at the end. You sit next to him. He explained why he had given it to you and since you didn't stop his rambling he continued to tell you about the catholic religion. You looked at him, not showing any emotion that you were interested in converting.
Once he stops you tell him why you can't convert to catholicism. "All the rituals and-" You make a motion with your hands "Aghh, it's all too much for me," You look at your hands in your lap. "We're not bad, you know. We just believe that our faith is our responsibility to grow. Like your garden. If you stopped watering it, the flowers would die. It's up to us to cultivate our relationship with the Lord," You put your hand on his. He pulls away. You know he wants you to convert... but why don't you want him to change for you?
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The sky is dark when Father O'Hara makes it into a town miles away from the abbey. He ditched his tab and undid some buttons a few miles back. He walks down the street looking for a light from a bar. He walks with a slight limp, he doesn’t know where the injury came from. He tries to recall anything from the past days.
Lust and anger clouded his mind too much to recreate a mental timeline. There was a sharp pain in his temples. He was just mad, shuffling around a small logging community. All the buildings on the main street were painted pastel colors. He wondered if you were the type to love towns like this one. The picturesque little town. The backdrop to most romantic movies. He bets you swoon over little Hallmark towns.
He looks around at the different shops. There’s a small bakery with little twinkling lights in the window. The display was empty, at least they kept things fresh. He looks across the street to a little bookstore. He made a mental note to check it out. If he couldn’t find something he might be interested in, he could always get something for you.
A couple, who were out on an evening stroll, looked at him and his hushed tones whispered about Father O’Hara. He doesn’t blame them. He probably does look crazy. At least for European standards. His height alone makes him stand out around here. That’s not even including his broad shoulders and darker skin made him a fascinating sight to most locals. After nine years living in a town like this, he learned to pay them no mind. Most relax once they see the tab and rosary. As if a man of God couldn’t hurt them. He bit the side of his cheek, accidentally biting too deep, causing a small amount of his own blood to seep into his mouth. Tasteless. It's been like that since the accident. He lost the iron taste only a few short minutes after being bitten.
He continued towards the edge of town. There was a warm light coming out of some old wooden windows. Smoke billowed out of the chimney. The signature wooden sign hung next to the door, reading “ol nick’s.” He pushed open the old oak door. The regulars looked at him in shock. A stout man with rosy cheeks sat with what most would describe as a stereotypical lumberjack, a full bread and a cold stare. A younger woman sat in the dark corner nursing a warm beer, her dark hair tied behind her neck, the dark circles under her eyes telling him that this is a normal occurrence for her. The bartender is a tall blonde wearing a large plaid shirt, his beard full and nicely trimmed. His blue eyes faded with time looked at Father O’Hara with something akin to pity.
The bartender, who he amuses is “ol nick” or at least a descendant of him, his cleaning some glasses. “Are you lost? Or just looking for a pint?” ol nick asks with more of a joking tone than Father O’Hara would have liked to deal with.
“A pint, and maybe a room if you have one,” Father O’Hara asks as he throws down his bag. He sits on the stool with a huff. He looks around the bar. Old pictures of patrons hung around the side of the bar while the other walls are filled with hunting trophies. Everything from a raccoon to a pretty nice buck head littered the dark wood paneling.
“Yeah, I’ve got room. Hunting trip?” Too chatty. His eyes search in Father O’Hara’s as he looks at him.
“Yes, I heard there was overpopulation here,” ol Nick slid a pint towards Father O’Hara. He takes a hardy sip from it.
“So big fella, what’s your name?” a patron with big flushed cheeks sits next to him.
“Manuel” He lies. He doesn’t like giving out his name on trips like these. Well, he doesn’t like giving his name out ever. Since of security in that.
“Where ya from, Manuel?” The same patron asks, afterwards downing what's left of his glass.
“The states,” He kept it vague. He just wanted to finish his pint in peace then head up the room. He stared forwards at the whiskey bottles. The amber liquid only hinting at what he must look like. All he sees and large hunched shoulders and wild hair. He must smell like a dog to these people. He leans back and swigs the pint. He hoped he would finish it in that one gulp but he couldn’t fit it all in his mouth. He swallowed hard and looked down at the old wooden bar top. Scapes and nicks from patrons before him. All with their own story.
He sighed and looked up at the bartender. “Rough travel?” He was leaning against the shelves of alcohol. Large arms crossed over his chest. A small tattoo peeking from under his rolled sleeve.
“You don’t know the half of it,” He leaned back once again downing the rest. “Thank you, How much for the pint and the room for two nights?” Father O’Hara asked, reaching into his bag.
Ol Nick Showed him his room and left for his own home a couple doors down. Father O’Hara swung his bag onto the bed, not caring about the things inside. He sits at the edge of his bed with his head in his hands. His temples scream bloody murder. He wishes his head would just be silent and he can just use this trip as a relaxing restart instead of what it’s supposed to be… a hunting trip.
He looked at the scaped up floor. He thought about how far behind he’ll be when he gets back. His head just pounded more. He let his hands drop to his lap. He looked down at them. Calloused, rough and dry beyond belief. I don’t want to touch her with these hands.
His mouth watered as he thought about what you were doing around this time. He assumes he probably messed up your sleep by keeping you in his office till dark. He hopes you’re just now dipping your toes into the warmth of the bath. Your delicious skin glistening with the warm water. He breathes in imagining your scent.
His stomach growls. He swallows the spit in his mouth and gets up from the bed. He unpacks a few items and looks out the window. There's a small smoke trail a little ways into the woods. He looks at the size and assumes it's a small group no more than three people. His stomach warns him once again. He sighs and makes his way down the stairs.
He runs across the street to the makeshift opening in the woods. He follows the beaten path up the mountain. He was never a hiker. He understood why people did it but it was never his thing. He didn’t like the hiking part of hunting. He also didn’t like the waiting part of hunting, but he would gladly hike if it meant he was getting closer to the kill.
He knew better than to get jumpy over the sounds of the woods. He knew he was the apex predator here. His mouth watered more as the smell of smoke filled the air. He was getting closer. His stomach was turning and his head was splitting. He paid no mind to be quiet, he was hungry.
He slowed his walking when he saw the flames. A red tent sat to the right of the fire, with what looked like a cooler to the left. Good, they’ll assume bears. He crept to the side of the tent. He heard shuffling and soft moaning. He chuckled to himself. He was just glad that part was taken care of for him. He’s a foot away from the tent when he steps on a branch.
“What was that?” a soft feminine voice whispered.
“It’s probably just a deer,” the masculine voice was low and muffled. He was probably close to her skin.
“Please go check,” She pouted.
“Babe, it’s a deer,” he sounds annoyed.
“Pleaseeeeee,” she whines back at him. There’s shuffling and then a groan. He hears the tent unzip. Father O’Hara stands up straight and looks down at the man.
“Who the fuck are you?” The man asks. Father O’Hara just hardens his gaze. “You better- You better leave! I have a gun!”
“Who’s out there?” Her voice sounded panicked.
Father O’Hara looks around the man to get a look at her. The man realizes and moves to block her. “She sounds pretty cute. How did you manage that?” He asks, walking closer the man.
“Back off, man,” He puffs out his chest. “I’m not kidding!” Father O’Hara swiftly grabs his hair and pulls the man’s head to the side. The man in shock just stares out into the blackened woods. Father O’Hara bites down hard. His blood fills his mouth. He closes his eyes and lets out a sigh of satisfaction as the headache and his stomach finally release their torture on him. Once the man’s body goes limp, he tosses him to the ground.
She’s sitting at the back of the tent. Curled in a ball, shaking. He tried to recall if he heard her scream or not. Doesn’t matter. He squats in front of her. Her whole body trembled. He reaches out a hand and brushes her hair out of the way. Her lover’s blood on either side of his mouth.
He smiles, his hand on her cheek. Her fear spikes and she opens her mouth to scream. “It’s okay, Darling,” he looks at her. All he sees is your trembling body. Your eyes welding up with tears. Your hands shaking with fear. “I’m only here because of you,” He grips the side of her face as she screams in his ear. He bites down and drinks her.
He lets the blood sit in mouth. He pulls away from her. Her hands came to clutch her neck. He spits out her blood. He stands up to loom over her. She looks up at him and starts praying. Which only pisses him off more.
“That’s not how you’re supposed to taste,” He pushes her down. “You’re not her,” He starts to tear into her stomach. Her screams could curdle blood. She prayed to her god. The god he’s supposed to also answer to. The same one that keeps him away from you.
He becomes more violent towards her dead body. Once the initial rage settled, he looked down at her. He turned to leave the tent and started to rip his body apart. He sat on the log next to the dying fire. Covered in blood, he looked at the embers. He doesn’t dare look at the couple. He folded his hands. He shut his eyes slowly.
“Father,” His voice was shaky. “Forgive me.” a tear slips down his cheek. “For I, have lust in my heart,” a memory of you in the office, smiling at him. He chokes out a sob. “Please, remove these feelings from me so I can continue the work I was called to do,” He pressed his forehead against his folded hands. He squeezes his eyes shut and ends his prayer, “Amen.”
Summary: At an abbey troubled by mysterious and violent animal attacks, you and Lyla debate whether the danger is a bear or a human killer. Father O'Hara manipulates you into fetching robes alone at night, secretly enjoying your fear. As you return safely, O'Hara’s sinister fascination with your anxiety becomes clear. In a haunting dream, his obsession with you and inner turmoil are revealed, blending guilt and desire in a disturbing fantasy.
Pairing: Priest!Vampire!Miguel O'Hara/Nun!reader
Warnings: someone being turned on by someone's fear,
"Some patrons have been talking about how the animal attacks have worsened. Like two a night," Lyla says with her mouth full of food.
"Eat or talk, I'm sick of seeing your food in your mouth," Sister Margo says. Lyla chews quicker and allows harshness.
"I'm just saying, Abbess Drew thinks we should be buddied up when we leave the abbey. Statistically, animal attacks happen at night. Our curfew prevents us from leaving the abbey without an escort to begin with. SOOO, all I'm saying is the policy is flawed. The only people in this building, that live here," she looks at Sister Margo, who was about to retort, "that could possibly be eaten by the beast, is the fathers, and let me just say some of them need to go to confession for the sin of pride because I know for a fact they will not use the buddy system," she finished as everyone stares at her.
"Do we know for a fact it's an animal?" You ask, absentmindedly.
"Explain? What do you know?" Lyla asks as she leans in closer.
"Maybe, it's a person," You said while playing with your lunch. "Like a killer that only kills people during the spring and fall." You look up to see Lyla's face light up.
"Oh, like a pagan ritual," Lyla says. "I like the idea."
"But it's way too gruesome for a person to do," Sister Margo added. She looks down at her food and pushes it away. "and you shouldn't say you like the idea of a murderer, sister."
"You'd be surprised what people can do if they think they have the right reason," Lyla says.
"What reason?" She gives an unamused look.
"Love," You said, looking at the strawberries on your plate. The little red berries sat brightly on the sterile white plate. You tilted your head at them. You pushed them around with your fork.
"Then why not just tell the person you love them instead of killing people," Sister Margo says.
"Sometimes you can't. There are unspoken rules and rituals people follow and sometimes the person you love isn't obtainable. Like courting someone that's lower class than you or simply they aren't the right one. They channel their anger about not being able to love that person in an unhealthy way but it is still about love," You look up at Sister Margo.
She looks at you and Lyla and shakes her head. She picks up her plate and leaves. Lyla bursts out into laughter and you smile. "Oh, yeah, how is the project going?" she asks.
"We're waiting for the robes to be sent here then he has to write up what is going on each plaque then we have to get it approved by the bishop then the museum then it's just back and forth till they all agree." You strain a smile, knowing that part won't be fun. "How's the dream up in the chapel?"
"Same old, not a lot to report these last weeks. The Fathers have been running around for the preparation for Lent, which isn't for another two months." She smiles.
"What do you have to do after lunch?" You ask.
"the usual, Read, pray, shower." She looks away from the people across the room. "Why?"
"Father O'Hara has a meeting after lunch so he told her to come later. I was thinking about going for a walk after," You turned around to see what she was looking at while slowly saying, "If you want to join." You paused. "Is that Father Parker?"
"Yeah," She slowly says. You two watched as a police officer talked to Father Parker. "Maybe your theory was right," she shivered. The two of you looked at each other before deciding to leave quickly. Even though Lyla wanted to stay so bad to hear what they were talking about. "Do you think the killer is one of us?"
"No, It's probably about something someone said in confession or on their deathbed."
"Yeah, you're probably right. Nothing that newsworthy happens here," she puffed.
"Don't wish that on these people. Just because we talk to each other like normal people doesn't mean we can wish bad things to happen," You nudged her. You rounded the corner to the stairs and Lyla followed. She tried to defend herself while you brushed your hands on the old stones. "Do you really think it's a person and not a bear like people suggest?" You asked as Lyla bounced down the stairs.
She twisted her face in thought. She tilted her head and looked off into the distance. "I could be, but why only during those seasons? And if it is about love then again why only spring and fall? The facts point to it being a Bear or at least a couple of them. Probably with some type of neurological disease."
"Why with a disease?" You asked as you descended the stairs.
"Why would a bear willingly walk into a town? unless it had a disease," She finishes as some of the patrons stare at you in horror.
"Wouldn't it have died years ago? The townsfolk say it's been happening for years." You ask as you push open the doors to the courtyard.
"Maybe that's why they've been more aggressive. It's losing its mind," she says as she keeps pace with you. "Plus, if it's multiple of them, they could just be spreading the disease amongst themselves."
"It's just not adding up enough for me," You said as you looked around at the flowers in the garden. The daffodils were blooming already. You bent down to get a closer look at the flowers. Lyla stops behind you.
"Why aren't you on garden duty? you seem to be right at home here," she bends down next to you.
"The previous sister that tended the library was getting old and needed a replacement," you said coldly. "not that I don't love being surrounded by stories, I think working in the library is how the nickname started."
"Yeah, I forgot about that," she laughed. "do you think you'll move to be his assistant after the project?" her voice dripped with sadness at the thought.
"I don't know. I miss the library and maybe after this Sister Stacy might be more open to talking to me and it won't be as lonely," You said, picking one of the daffodils. You stand up and turn to Lyla. "It's weird. One day he'll be nice and calm then the next day he'll be cold. I thought it was about my work within the project or how I spoke to him but he was distant even when all I did was sort his papers the way he asked."
the two of you begin to walk around the garden. You fell into a comfortable silence. A flash of his food on his desk reminded you, "And, every night, genuinely every night, he'll ask me to go get dinner for him and myself but when I bring it up to his office he leaves the food to the side to get cold. I always end up eating in silence watching him work. Does he not want the food I prepared? but then why ask for a plate if you're not going to eat?" You huffed and sat on one of the benches. "Does he send me out to get some alone time, without my presence? I really didn't think I was being rude or disrespectful with anything I did."
"I don't think it's that. But it is weird every night. I could see if he sent you out to get food and then getting really into a certain passage and not wanting to eat to not lose the train of thought, but that can't be every single night," she sits next to you and puts her hand on your leg. "I don't know what to say other than if he didn't want you to do what you're doing then he would have asked for your transfer back to the library. I think he might be lonely." she giggles and you look up at her. "he's at the weird age where he's not old enough to be in with the old geezers and he's not straight out of seminary. Think about it, the only one around his age is Father Parker." she takes her hand off your leg and leans back to look at the sky. "You're doing alright. and in the end, if it doesn't improve then just decline his offer to have you work for him."
"You're right."
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You knock on the oak door. The sun slowly set, casting beautiful pink hues on the old carpet. It makes the hallway of the abbey look almost ethereal like you were walking down a dream. You looked at the grain of the wood. The years of the tree that made the door show through its impressive swirls. The brass nameplate, dulled by the years, almost blended in if it weren't for Father O'Hara's name wasn't on it. You run your finger over the letters, mentally spelling out his name. You heard the knob turn and you dropped your hand. You lower your head as the door opens.
"Good afternoon, Sister," He opens the door wider for you to enter. "How was your morning?"
"It was quite lovely. After breakfast, I walked around the garden with Lyla," You said, sitting in the chair across from his desk. He nods taking in what you said. "What about your father? How was your morning?"
"Long." he smiles. "The meeting I had at lunch took longer than I would have cared for. A father from another church about three towns over came to ask about our protocols for the recent attacks and the older priests here did not want to waste their lunch talking to him, so it went down the chain till it landed on my desk." He explains while organizing his desk for tonight's work.
"I've heard about the recent attacks and Abbess Drew called for a buddy system for the sisters, for now." You looked up to him.
"The older fathers don't really care too much about the attacks. They say it's been happening for years and if it was a big enough concern for another town's head priest to come over here then it should be their problem and not mine." He signs and begins to open the pile of letters on his desk.
"The locals say it's a bear." You mentioned.
"what do you think it is?" He looks over his paper.
"There's some decent evidence that it is a bear, but we proposed that it might be a person," Your voice trailed off at the end as you realized it probably wasn't you should mention.
"Well, what's the evidence for the bear?" You told him your thoughts that you and Lyla had talked through this morning. He had put his letter down halfway through and was listening intently. His mood shifted to more twisted curiosity. "Ok, then what about a person?" His voice dripped with a sordid fascination with your speculations.
"The time frame. It's been about 10 years since the attacks started. If it was a bear with a disease like we had thought then it would have died by now. But that's not including that diseases spread and if the bear had a family it could have easily spread. A person could just be killing others during those times to cover up. The argument that it's the bear getting ready for hibernation and waking up from hibernation makes sense." You paused after each sentence to think about how to word the next.
"Why?" You give him a weird look. He seems to be interested in what you have to say about this. "Why would a person kill every year around spring and fall?" The shine in his eye gives you a shiver.
"I said love." You look him in the eye. You watched his eye slightly twitch. "But that's just talk. We were just theorizing. There wouldn't be a serial killer in this town..." Your voice trailed off as you silently prayed your words were true.
"Good theories. Tell Lyla that I think it's a bit more than just unrequited love. I think he's killing people because he's hungry. He's starving for something he can't have. He wants to taste the flesh of the most forbidden fruit," He holds your eye contact, seeming to wait for you to flinch. He flashes a smile and looks down at the letter. "Oh, delightful! The robes were sent and are at the town hall," he sets the paper down. "Would you mind getting them for me?"
"But the policy is in place? and I'm pretty sure most of the other sisters are getting ready for night prayers," You nervously rubbed your hands. "and if I leave without an escort and if Abbess Drew finds out... She'll be mad and come to you. and well you know how she is when she's mad. She might even go to your higher-ups," you rambled hoping he would get the point that you really don't want to go out alone. "please."
"You'll be alright," He smiles. "And if she does find out I'll handle it. Now please, someone is waiting for you to go pick it up," He rests his hand on yours.
"Okay," You stood up and bowed. You made your way to the entrance to the abbey. Your footsteps echoed through the hallway. The quick rap of your heels added a sense of comfort and predictability. You regained your confidence. You looked out the windows to see that the street lamps lit up the sidewalks. You'll be fine, see the lights are on. Your internal voice sang. You smiled as you reached the door. You were ready for whatever the night threw at you.
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Father O'Hara sat at his desk with letters in his hands, not particularly focused on any of them. He leans back to look out his office's window. He sees you walking towards town. He sighed and looked back at the papers. She'll be fine. You're the one killing so she'll be safe. He smiled to himself. He read through a few lines the image of the drunk man from the night before. What if a creep sees you? He stood up and made his way out of the abbey.
He caught up to you fairly quickly. He made sure to keep a safe distance away. As he walked into an alley, he stepped on a piece of trash, which made you whip around. Your eyes scanned the roads to find no one. You held your chest as you convinced yourself it was a cat. He inhales sharply, he smells your fear. You look at the ground and continue on your way. He hears how panicked you are. A smirk forms on his face.
He runs behind a building to get ahead of you. He watches you walk, waiting for the perfect moment to scare you. Your eyes were glued to the ground as you muttered under your breath about how everything was fine. He pushes over a can and watches as you jump. Your eyes darted around to find a sign that something was out there. He inhales and smells the sweet scent of your terror. He peers around the corner as you pick up your pace to get to the town hall. He sees your hands shaking. He can't tell if the bead running down your cheek was sweat or a tear.
Father O'Hara may be described as a humble man by his peers but one of his guilty pleasures is seeing how far he can push someone just before they break. He likes his toys to be scared, not of him but of what he is.
He sits waiting for you to cross the road. He's holding a ball of old newspapers. The devilish smirk on his face would be a telling sign to anyone but in the dark blue sky, it's just him and his thoughts. You make your way across the empty street. He makes an animalistic sound, which causes you to stop in your tracks as you try to adjust your eyes. He tosses the ball at your feet. Your scream is what pleased him the most. The shrill wail, dripping with pure horror, makes his chest warm. He inhales, his scenes being filled with pure delight as you run past his hiding spot to the town hall.
He strolls out into the street and follows your path. Once you and the town hall were insight, he leaned against the building and watched you knock rapidly on the door, checking over your shoulders. Father O'Hara smiled to himself as you quickly ran into the building once the door had opened.
"That will be enough for now, Little Mouse. I will see you later," he mutters to himself as he makes his way back to the abbey.
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"Are you okay, Sister?" The receptionist asked you in your panicked state.
"Yeah, the recent attacks had my mind wondering as I walked here," You said breathlessly. You closed your eyes to calm your nerves. The receptionist was moving around the lobby.
"You shouldn't be out alone anyways," She scoffs. "I can't believe the church allows innocent sisters to walk alone at night during The Bear Attacks," She puts the package on the desk.
"There are policies in place at the church. I was asked to go alone since most were getting ready for bed and the Father who requested these is incredibly busy and did not have the time to retrieve it himself," You shyly tried to explain.
"Oh, well then. Here you are. Please be safe, Sister," Her smile warms you. You bowed and blessed her as you left the hall.
The walk back was surprisingly quieter than on the way there. You still were cautious, constantly looking over your shoulder, freezing whenever you would hear a noise. Once the abbey was in sight, you practically ran to the doors. You didn't lose momentum as you bolted to Father O'Hara's office.
Out of breath and most likely sweating through your habit, You knocked on his door. He opened the door and looked down at you. He chuckled. "You look like you had a trip," He opens the door wider for you to walk through.
"It was something," You couldn't get your hands to stop shaking. You handed him the package. He took it and stood by the window. You absentmindedly stared at the desk, your body trying to process what happened. You were zoned out as he tossed the package onto his desk. the loud noise startling you. You jolted in your seat. He smiled to himself.
"Something scary?" He laughs. "You seem to be on edge," He sits at his desk.
"Oh, it's nothing, just my thoughts wandering," You weakly smile. He slides over a stack of paper. You look at the top of the page. You figure the proposed display plaques. You silently read the paper, marking spots you'd personally change.
Father O'Hara was watching you read them. He quickly figured out what page you were on. He hoped you were reading about the pagan rituals as he 'accidentally' knocks his cup onto the floor. You look up in shock. Your wide eyes tell him everything he needs to know. You were sufficiently frightened.
He stood to pick up the cup. He set it quietly on the desk. Your eyes follow him as he moves closer to you. His index finger lifts your chin. Your eyes lock him as a soft smile forms. "Are you scared of me?" He asks. You quickly shake your head, deciding to not explain why you were jumpy. "That's good," He releases your chin and turns towards his desk. He fakes a yawn. He leans up against it. "I think we should call it a night. What do you think, Sister?"
"Yeah," You spoke softly. "Yeah, goodnight, Father O'Hara," You stared at the ground as you left his office.
He sighs and looks at the ceiling. He thinks about how you responded. You didn't say you weren't scared. You shook your head. How am I supposed to know if she meant it? He closed his eyes, trying to relieve the headache forming in his left temple. The soft glow of his desk lamp makes it feel like an old movie. The type that has a small cult following. He's the troubled professor who hasn't stopped working on his research, only living off coffee and two hours asleep. Until the favorite character walks in, His research assistant. Her smile makes the fatigue worth the long hours.
He smiles to himself. Oh, how he wished this was just a movie, because then he may actually get the girl in the end. He opens his eyes and leans forward to his desk, letting his hand fall to look at the papers. He opens his drawer and pulls out the parchment. He begins writing the letters in response to the ones he received. Father O'Hara focused on keeping his handwriting legible and pleaded with his eyes to stay open for another few minutes. Being more focused on the mental battle to keep his eyes open, he let his mind wonder about how you looked tonight.
He leaned back into his seat. His mother would have yelled at him for slouching, but he didn't care. He was studying his memory for how you looked nervous to leave. He chuckled when he recounted you screaming bloody murder when he tossed the balled-up newspaper. He let his hands fall to his lap as he wished he could have taken a picture of your face when he asked if you were scared. He failed to realize how much this was turning him on. A ghost of a smirk sneaks its way to his cheeks. His hands toyed with his pants as he shifted to be more comfortable with the growing bulge in his pants.
His breath hitches when he slides his hand over the tent. He adds a little more pressure on the way back causing his mouth to hang open. His eyes are sealed shut as he tries to get himself off under the desk. He chokes on his breath when he gives a squeeze to his trapped member.
A knock at his door scares him half to death. "Come in" Father O'Hara's voice was a deep grumble.
"It's getting late," Father Parker's face was sagging with exhaustion.
"Give me a second. I'll walk with you," He says, putting his papers away. He stands away from Father Parker and leans over the desk to turn the lamp off, pushing his throbbing cock into the desk. He hisses at the feeling. The two of them walk in silence, both too tired to make small talk. Father O'Hara casually looks out into the dark world. The trees dance in the breeze of the night. He never realized how much he missed the buzzing nightlife of New York. The soft murmur of the clubgoers as they walk to the next bar. The street light casts a warm glow on the late-night smokers. The alley cats getting up to mischief. He got used to the quiet of the abbey quickly but something deep down inside longest for the rumble of the city.
He looks over at Father Parker, who looks deep in thought. He rubs his hands against his cheeks as his eyes dart around the floor. Father O'Hara watched him inhale then he turned back to the window.
"Hey, did you seriously let her go out alone?" Father Parker sleepily asked. Father O'Hara looked over at him. Father Parker glared daggers into his old friend's eyes.
"Why?" Father O'Hara's voice came off more harsh than he intended.
"Drew will be pissed if she finds out you sent her best Nun out at night... during bear season. Jesus, Miguel, There's a policy for a reason. How dense are you?" Father Parker rubs the bridge of his nose trying to think of a reason not to smack his friend.
"She's fine-"
"What if she wasn't? Do you not understand that there are rules for a reason? That just because you don't care about your own life doesn't mean you can put others in harm's way." Father Parker stops him. "You know what, I don't care anymore, goodnight," He opens his personal chamber's door. He looks back at his friend one last time before shaking his head and closing his door.
Father O'Hara scoffed and walked down the hall to his room. He pushed the door harder than he wanted and slammed it louder than he wished to. He stops and looks at his room. The shitty room was given to him by the church. The shitty room with the shitty bed and the shitty blankets. He gravels as he undresses. Throwing his tab into the dark corner, followed by the clergy shirt. He sits on his bed, fuming while he unlaces his dress shoes. He kicks them off and throws himself back into the bed.
"He had no right," He whispered. Yeah, but I didn't have the right either... He huffs and rolls onto his side. His anger turned into peaceful sleeping sooner than he liked. Tonight was different though. Since turning he hadn't had dreams, but tonight...
He stands just outside a clearing in the woods. He looks into the moonlight from behind a tree. The pale moon illuminated a figure. She was dancing. He moved out from behind his tree. He watched as her white dress flowed as if it was weightless. He listened to her beautiful hums as she bathed in the moon. Her hair caught the beams in an ethereal stream. Her smile was soft and content. She was the epitome of pure delight.
The lilac scent didn't hit him till he unconsciously moved into the clearing. He walked closer, almost hypnotized by your image. His stomach clenches in pain. He pulled from his dazed. He leans forward to ease the pain. He stops, wide-eyed. "No, Not now," He steps forward, cursing at the involuntary steps. You had stopped dancing and held out your arms, inviting him in. "Please. Not her. anyone but her," He was standing in front of you. You reach out and put your hand on his cheek. He stands up, looking down at you. "Please," he weakly whispered. You smile at him. He brings his hand up to your cheek. He pushes the loose hair behind your neck. He leans into your ear. "My little mouse." Lilac filled his senses. "what you do to me," You don't cry out when he bites down on your neck. You remain silent as you let him drink your blood. When he pulls away blood drips from his mouth. He looks at you for any sign. You gaze emotionlessly into the woods. Your head is tipped to the side as your blood runs down your neck. He doesn't exist to you as you walk into the pitch-black of the woods. Leaving him with his guilt.
Summary: Exhausted and sick from late nights helping Father O'Hara, you struggle with nightmares about a Beast and a worsening cold. Despite feeling ill, you push through your duties in the library and at the abbey. Lyla encourages you to rest, and a heartfelt conversation with Father O'Hara in the kitchen reveals shared personal stories
Your eyes were heavy as you readied yourself for bed. You stared at your open window and let yourself fall to your pillow. Your eyes burned holes into the wall under the windowsill. It had been a few weeks since you started helping Father O'Hara with the spring exhibit. The long nights ruined your sleep schedule. You were exhausted by the time you got to bed, but your mind ran with the thought of the Beast. The attacks started back up a few days ago. Every year since you've been at the convent, during the spring and fall the bear attacks become vicious. The locals who came to pray talked about how gruesome deaths were. They didn't understand why the attacks became frequent during this time. They said the attacks had been happening for many years. A couple of the older patrons say it's been about ten years since the attacks began to happen. They reasoned it was a bear coming out of hibernation and being hungry then doing the same to prepare for winter.
You had been plagued with nightmares. It doesn't help that you've been reading about the catholic rituals before the religion became more organized. The attack was just the cherry on top. Once you finally fell asleep, it was the same scene on repeat.
You were standing in the woods. Moonlight filtered through the trees. Your sight is less than stellar. You hear twigs snapping to your left. You swing your body to the sound. You back away slowly. You muster up any will in you to not panic. You steady your breathing to not show the Beast you were afraid. Deep down inside, you want to run.
A twig snaps behind you. You flip around in hopes you will see your stalker. Another twig alerts you. You back away slowly, once again, trying to maintain distance from the Beast. A hazy shape creeps out from behind a tree. Your heart sinks as the red eyes concentrate on you. You step back, trying not to break its gaze. You want nothing more than to get out of this alive. Your gut tells you if you break its inspection of you, you will lose.
One more step, you whisper. One more. And as if on cue, you trip. The beast starts towards you. You hurry to the tree behind you, never taking your eyes off the Beast. Your back firmly against the tree as the Beast lunges at you. You close your eyes. Cinnamon and pine fill your scenes. You yell out, "Father O'Hara," hoping he will come save you.
You never get to the end of the dream. You always wake up panicked. Your breathing is rapid, and you let your head fall into your hands. You sniffled and noticed your forehead was warm. You turn to look out the window. It opened with the currents flowing in the wind. You groaned and flopped back down into your pillow.
You rub your eyes and begin to feel a headache forming. You decide that if it comes to it, you'd ask Abbess Drew for a day of rest. You got dressed slowly and tried not to think about the dream or the mucus forming in your sinuses. In your dazed state, you forgo the pins to hold up your habit and decide the thicker socks would be the best bet for today. You shivered as you opened the door. Lyla stood waiting for you.
"You look awful?" she nudges you, "are you feeling okay?" you groaned and tried to keep up with her. "Didn't sleep well? Is Father O'Hara keeping you too late? You know Abbess Drew can tell him to quit keeping you out late," she says as she rounds the corner to the common area. "Hey, I think you forgot something this morning," You look up at her. She comes up to you and tucks some loose hair back into your habit. She pulls out some extra pins and fixes it for you.
"Thanks, I might have caught something. I left the window open last night. I guess that's what I get for staying up reading over old books for Father O'Hara, "You sniffled. She smiles and opens the door to the dining room.
"The night is still cold. You might want to add closing the window to your nightly routine," she laughs. The two of you walked to the food line. She makes you tea as you look for anything that wouldn't make you want to hurl in the moment. She hands you the mug and tells you to sit while she "scrounges" up something good. "Helps to be friends with the sisters on kitchen duty," and with that, she leaves you.
You stare out the window and hope that today will be a warmer day. You watch the birds fly around and watch the bees collect pollen from the flowers in the window bed. You sigh and take a sip from the mug. The delightful taste of the tea fills your mouth, and the steam fills your nose. The warm liquid goes down your throat, and you close your eyes at the relief you feel.
Lyla comes up with two plates and giggles at the sight she sees. "I see you like my cure for the cold," she sets a bowl of yogurt and bananas in front of you. "There's also some ginger and honey in it. I heard all those things are good for when you've got a cold," she begins to chow down on some eggs. You take the spoon and scoop up a bite.
"Do you think someone here would have ibuprofen or something? I feel super achy," you asked.
"Doubt it, I'm pretty sure people here think that's of the devil," she says in between bites. "I'd ask Father Parker. I bet he gets a ton of headaches during the long priest meetings," she laughs.
"I'll try," you said, taking another sip from the mug. You hear footsteps come up to the table. You don't look up and instead place the cup down and stare at the tea inside.
"Oh hey, Sister Gia," Lyla says.
"Hey," she waves. "Um, sister, would you be able to help me this morning? One of the Fathers returned pretty much a whole bookshelf worth of books last night as I was locking up. And you've been in the library longer than I have. You know the setup a lot better than me. You'd probably be able to get this done in about an hour."
You look up at her. You were surprised she was talking to you; on top of that, you had no idea that Sister Scott's name was Gia. "Uh, sure, I'll go to the library after chapel,'' she bowed and left. You turned back to Lyla. She just kept eating away. "She's never talked to me. I'm pretty sure she doesn't even know my name."
"Sorry to break it to you, but I'm pretty sure none of the sisters know your name," she smiled. "I didn't even know your name till I talked to you,"
"Yeah," you took another sip. You rolled your shoulders to get the pain out of your back. You looked down in disgust as the pain just got worse. "I hope the chapel isn't going to be cold," you remark. Lyla looks at you with so much concern.
"Maybe you should take the day off," she places her hand on yours. "I can go tell Abbess Drew you're not feeling well. She'll understand."
"No, I already agreed to help Sister Scott, and Father O'Hara is expecting me to help him," you said as you stood to take your bowl to the bin. Lyla followed you. You dropped the bowl into the bin and headed to the chapel with Lyla. She kept asking if you think it would be a good idea to work today. You reminded her that it does not work if it is for the Lord in your best Abbess Drew impression. She giggled as you two found seats.
You waited for the Abbess to start. The other girls flowed into the pews, and a slight chill filled the old room. You scooched closer to Lyla to keep warm. You shivered into her. You quickly wiped your nose as Abbess Drew stood at the front. She begins the prayer, and then, as soon as she begins the proper prayer, you grab Lyla's leg. She shoots you a look. Your eyes go wide as you try to hold in a sneeze. You couldn't hold it as well as you thought you could, and you sneezed in the quiet chapel. Abbess Drew looks up and smiles. "God Bless you," her smooth voice rang out. You sink into the pew as people giggle. Lyla stifles her laugh and nudges you not to be embarrassed.
After morning prayers, you head up to the library to begin helping Sister Scott. You walk into piles upon piles on the counters and tables surrounding it. You find Sister Scott filling out some donated books into the filing system. You walked over to her, and she pointed at the pile on the table. "Those are the returned ones. Once I get all these files, I'll help you put them away," she mumbles. You nod, pick up arms full and begin working. You walked to one of the shelves and set down the pile to rearrange the books to make room for the new ones.
You try to blink away the headache. You look down and sniffle; the pounding just continues. You roll your shoulders and pick up the books. You robotically place one at a time into their homes on the shelves. After about 20 minutes of sluggishly moving books, you finish that pile. You return and pick up another pile, and repeat the process over and over and over, each time your headache gets worse. The pain in your shoulders continues down your back. About thirty minutes in, Sister Scott helps you. She grabs the more philosophical books and goes to the other end of the row of shelves. You two work in silence for a while. You didn't mind; the headache didn't mind the quiet. You really don't remember doing most of the work. The fever that was brewing made it hard to concentrate on anything other than keep your eyes open. There were some moments you could have sworn you fell asleep while putting books away.
"Are you alright? I noticed you looked kind of..." you stared at her, not entirely processing what she was saying. Her pause ended with an "eh" sound accompanied by a disgusted look and gesturing to you.
"I fell asleep with the window open, and I'm suffering the consequences," You said, desperately trying to keep your nose from running. She nods and looks back to the shelves. You turned just to look at the shelf. Not making any movement to put books away. You stared at a title, The History of Vampires within the Church. You chuckled at the thought of a vampire pope as Sister Scott looked at you.
After about 30 sneezes, a box of tissues, and hours of a splitting headache, you headed back to the information desk to see Sister Scott looking over the "check-out" logs. You looked over her shoulder to see her cross-checking what you had put away with the books that were still out in the Fathers' offices.
"Well, that looks like all of it. Thank you," Sister Scott says while checking over the logs. "Do you know when you'll be assigned back here?" she looks up at you.
"I don't know," you answered honestly, "Father O'Hara said the exhibit was for spring, but the pace we're going at, it should be on Christmas, not Easter," you smiled at her. A faint grin creeps onto her face.
"Well, I hope it turns out well, and the library isn't the same without you," she turns back to the log. "Have a nice afternoon."
You smiled at her and began to walk to the door. "Wait, can you bring this to Abbess Drew?" You looked down at the piece of paper. You shook your head.
The hallways seem colder today. You reasoned it was fever creeping up. Your eyes felt heavy as you shuffled to the Abbess' office. People looked at you and whispered, mostly saying, 'Poor thing.' You would smile at the townspeople while on your journey. You stood in front of the old oak door with the Abbess' name on a nameplate. You make three quick raps on the door.
The door opens to the Abbess confused, and then it shifts to concern. "Sister," worry is woven through your words. "You look awful. Come in, what do you need?" You handed her the paper that Sister Scott gave you. "you worked... in the library? While being this sick?"
"I'm not that sick," you sniffled after, proving Abbess's point.
"you need to take the day off and recover," she says, folding her arms. Her genuine concern was touching, but you couldn't. You had to help Father O'Hara with the project.
"I will be fine, and I appreciate the concern, but I simply can't. Father O'Hara is expecting my help, and I must be of his assistance," your voice only came above a whisper.
Abbess Drew sighed and took your hand into hers, "Sister, I'm envious of your dedication, but your health is a priority. Father O'Hara will understand if you take a day off."
You shook your head, unwavering. "The Project is supposed to be a month in, and by my personal experience, we are nowhere close to where we need to be. We don't even have the artifacts we're using. He hasn't sent me to pick up anything. I need to be there whether or not I'm sick."
The Abbess looked down in thought. She blinked a few times, and her eyebrows narrowed. She looked up at you, giving a reluctant smile. "Very well then. If you believe you can handle it, you may continue your duties. But please promise me you'll take some rest. Your health is precious, and we can't afford to have you falling seriously ill." Her hand rests on yours.
You nodded with gratitude and bowed to her. "Thank you for understanding."
After your chat with the Abbess, you walked over to the bathhouse. The dust is all over you, and you wish the warm water would help with your illness. Once you get to the house, the steam hits your face. You close your eyes and take a deep breath. You head over to the bench and remove your clothes sluggishly. You dip your feet into the warm water. You finally get fully in and let the water take you. The steam filled your nose, and the pressure on your chest began to loosen weakly. You relaxed into the water, and you felt as if the cold just melted off of you. You sit up with hesitation and grab the shampoo. A small dollop sits in the palm of your hand. You looked at the little peak—the light tint of purple and the smell of the lilac. You inched your hand closer to your head, trying not to let any part of your body leave the water. You managed and began to lather the floral scent into your hair.
The door swings open, and it's Lyla. "I saw you walk in the Abbess' office. What happened? Are you actually taking the day off?" She comes and sits at the edge of the bath.
"No, I gave her a note from Sister Scott," you said, turning away from her.
"You're too headstrong," she laughed. "I don't think it's a good idea."
"I need to continue helping him. We're behind. It's like he doesn't work when I'm around." You quickly dip under the water to rinse the shampoo out of your hair.
"You walk to his office after lunch, right?" she asked.
"Yes. Well, sometimes. Some days, he tells me to come before dinner." You wipe the water off your face.
"What do you have to do till then?" you look at her. She's sitting criss-crossed at the edge, looking down at you.
"Prayer, I guess. I don't need to go to confession," you looked at her, confused.
"Then I suggest you go to sleep." her stern took you back. "I'll come get you before lunch." she leans closer. "I can't have my one friend getting deathly ill." she smiles.
"Alright, I will go to my room and sleep. But I'm holding you to come and wake me up," you point at her.
She laughs, "I will, and if you need me beforehand, you know where to find me."
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After your bath, you find yourself lying in your bed. The head disappeared, but the ache in your shoulders hadn't stopped torturing you. You tossed around, trying to find a position that relieved the pain, but to no luck. You lay on your side, looking out the window. The cursed window. The window that got you into this mess. You scoffed at it and turned to the other side. You stared at your rosary hanging on your door. A sense of peace filled you as your eyes drifted closed.
the woods. You sighed and looked around for your foe. You see the hazy figure cross the clearing. You stare into its eyes once again. It creeps around the tree, low to the ground. It stalked you more like a wild cat than the usual bear. You hear it breaking the twigs as it inches closer to you. You waited for it to make its first move. It stopped two feet in front of you. You were in a standoff with the shadow. Its red eyes are watching you carefully. You found something familiar about the apparition. But tonight you're not going to figure out why. You bolted around the tree. You knew the Beast was behind you. You heard the twigs snapping as you zigzagged through the trees. This time you didn't look behind you. you kept your eyes forward and you were determined to either live this time or see what happens after it catches you. The trees became scarce as you ran. Then you noticed the cliff. You slide to a stop as the Beast catches up. You took one last look at the beast's eyes before it tackled you down into the ravine.
You shoot up as someone bangs on your door. "Come in, Lyla!" You squeaky yelled through the door. She whips the door open and sees you sat up in bed with a sheen of sweat. "Lunch?" you asked.
"Hour after," she smiled and sat in the chair next to your desk. You glared at her and got up. "I asked the Sisters in the kitchen if they could make you some soup. They're making it right now."
"Thank you," She helped pin the veil in place. "I wish we had cough syrup. I could use some," You said as she fixed your hair.
"I know. You should ask one of your fathers to get to some,"
"My fathers?" you asked, looking up at her.
"Father Parker and Father O'Hara?" she answered but it sounded more like a question.
"How are they mine?" you stood up to leave.
"They talk about you," she answered as if what she said would freak someone out.
"How do you know?" you linked an arm with her as the two of you walked to the kitchen.
"The fathers forget the community chapel has at least three sisters working there. They just talk about whatever while they wait for patrons to come." she cheerfully says. "the other day they were talking about you. I think Father Parker asked how the project was and Father O'Hara said something about how it's nice to have you around."
She pushed the door open and on the counter, there was a bowl of soup waiting for you. You walked over to the bowl and took a sniff or as much as could smell. With a sigh and rushed prayer, you dug into the wonderful bowl of soup. "Thank you. I needed this," you smiled at Lyla. She puts a hand on your shoulder and leaves to do her afternoon duties. You sat in silence and ate your soup.
"Oh, Hello, Sister," a voice rang out behind you. You quickly looked over your shoulder and gave a small wave then went back to your soup. Father O'Hara walked up to the counter and sat next to you. "How's you..." he looks into the bowl, "soup?"
"Delicious," you answered.
"Isn't it a bit warm to be serving soup?" He asked.
"Especially made for me. I woke up with a cold," you smiled. "It tastes just like it did when I was a kid," you scooped another spoonful into your mouth. "I think there's more in the fridge."
"I'm good. I remember when I was sick my mother would make red onion and honey cough syrup for me. My abuela swore by it and my mother still does to this day and tells me to make it when I'm sick," He smiles while looking off into the distance.
"Do you miss them?" it slipped out when you looked at him.
He turns to you and solemnly says, "Every day."
The two of you fall into a comfortable silence as you finish your meal. Father O'Hara just started at the dishes lined up next to the sink. You stood up and brought your bowl to the sink and began to wash it. He stood up and started putting the other dishes away so your bowl would have a place to dry.
"What do you miss most from your past?" He asked as he stacked the dishes.
"Chocolate," You answered quietly. You knew it was a bad answer, most people would say family or traveling, but you did miss chocolate. The abbey had a quiet ban on it before you came and you didn't realize how much you missed a good smooth chocolate. "What about you?"
"Dancing," He answered as he put away the plates on the shelf. "I miss putting on music and dancing while I did my tasks," He smiled to himself. "What was your life like before joining?"
"Well, I was going to go to college. I applied and everything, but the night before I was supposed to move in, I left. I traveled here and walked right up the old abbess and that night I started to convert. I didn't realize how hard it would be to live this lifestyle but five years later, I wouldn't give it up for the world." You had finished washing your bowl a while ago, now you were just leaning against the counter, watching him put away the dishes. "What about you?" You hesitated, the last time you mentioned his past his whole personality shifted.
"I had finished my degree in genetics, I was going to start my first job after getting my PhD and there was an accident and I went looking for Preston, uh Father Parker, and the church took me in."
"So, you did work in labs!" Your voice gave out halfway through and he chuckled at your voice.
"Yes, but not like the labs you're thinking of. I was good at what I did but I didn't love it, especially after the accident," He stood next to you as he talked. "I knew Preston was joining the church, which was a big surprise to me. But I flew here, looking for him. He brought me to the abbey and after about a year living here I decided I should probably become a priest and earn my keep." he let his head fall to look at you when he finished. He gave you a small smile and tapped your upper back. "We should get to work before Abbess Drew finds us lounging around the kitchen."
Summary: You start your day with a sore back from helping Father Parker and meet Father O'Hara, who apologizes for his absence the previous night. While working together, he shows kindness but later becomes agitated when you mention past conversations. His guilt and inner conflict lead to a violent outburst, leaving him deeply troubled and remorseful.
Pairing: Priest!Vampire!Miguel O'Hara/Nun!reader
Warnings: masturbation, slight gore again.... sorry.
word count: 4,596
a/n: I must have displeased the vampire gods while writing this... I had two bats actively flying around me when I formatting this chapter for tumblr. godspeed y'all and i'm sorry vampire gods
You wake up with the sun. The sunny sky brings a warm breeze into your room. Your back screamed as you sat up. You begin to regret helping Father Parker as you rub your back to ease the pain. You closed your eyes and wished you could go back to bed.
"It's too early," you said and stood up. You walked over to your window. You saw Father O'Hara walking back to the abbey. You leaned out the window. "Good morning, Father O'Hara. Blessed morning, isn't it?" you said trying to mask the grogginess you feel.
He looked up at your window. "Good Morning, Sister. It seems like it," he smiles. He walks a little closer to the abbey. He looks up again. "Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair," he yelled. You chuckled and looked down at him.
"I would, but I don't think it's long enough," you yelled down to him.
"That's a shame," he looked at his feet, "I'd like to talk to you. Can we meet before breakfast?"
"Yeah, I'll meet you by the bay window before the dining hall. Is that alright, Father?" you yelled.
"Yes, I'll meet you there," he waved and disappeared into the abbey.
You quickly got dressed and headed to the dining hall. You tried to mask your excitement while walking to the window. Sister Lyla sees you and runs up to you. She links her arm through yours, and you exchange pleasantries. "I have a meeting before I go to breakfast. I'll find you in there," you smiled, and she turned to see who you were looking at. She turns back to you and winks before heading into the hall.
"Morning, Father O'Hara," she said.
"Who is that?" he asks, joining you at the window. You told him how you and Sister Lyla became friends. You look at him and see how he looks like he went rolling around in the woods. You picked a leaf out of his hair. He just stares at you. "I'm sorry," he says.
"Please, don't take offense to how she sounded. It's just her teasing me."
"No, for last night," he said. "I'm sorry I wasn't there. I know your work is more important than just helping me. And I ruined your day by not being there." he takes your hands in his.
"That's alright. Father Parker asked me to help him with his office," you stared at the tangle of hands. You looked up at him, and his eyes looked at you in horror.
"Father Parker?" he asked.
"Yes?" you asked, pulling your hands away from him.
"What did he say?" his voice became low. His eyes burn into yours.
"He told me stories about you two when you were in high school," you shyly say. He stands up and mumbles to himself. He walks around in circles. "I'm sorry. I didn't know it was crossing a line. Father Parker was excited to tell me about all of it. I didn't think it was a problem," you said. You stood to go into the dining hall, but his hand came to grab your arm.
"I'm not mad at you. I'm annoyed that that loudmouth decided to tell people about my past," he smiles. “Well, I just wanted you to apologize about last night. You’re dismissed, I’ll see you later,” you bow and walk into the dining hall.
You grab some fruits and walk over to Sister Lyla. She's talking with some other sisters. You quietly sat by her, and the other sisters stopped talking. You picked at your food and tried to make yourself smaller as everyone stared at you.
"Sister, do you remember the animal attacks of the last couple of years?" she asked, shoving some food into her mouth. "I overheard Abbess talking to some of the Elder Fathers about what the 'plan' is."
"Yes, I guess it is that time of year again. What is their plan?" you ask.
"If sisters have to go into town, they have to be in a buddy system," she takes a sip of her water. "... which isn't a great plan since most animal attacks happen at night, and due to curfew, the only people going out at night are the fathers. Are they going to walk in a buddy system?"
That's right. That man last night. Father O'Hara was out last night. You continued digging into your memory to see if he was alright this morning. He did look dirty this morning, but he didn't look to be bleeding. You stared at the bowl of fruit. Your fork is just moving around a strawberry.
"What do you know?" Lyla asked.
"I saw Father O'Hara leave last night. He came back this morning covered in dirt," you said.
"Oh, was he hurt? Oh, yeah, how was your first day with him?"
"He didn't look hurt this morning. He wasn't in his office last night. I ended up with Father Parker. Abbess is probably going to talk to Father O'Hara about that," Put your fork down. Lyla looks at you. She is searching for answers in your eyes. She narrows her eyes.
"What was the meeting about?" she stabs her food before looking back up at you.
"He apologized," you smiled. She looks around at some of the sisters leaving.
"OK, I want to get the comfortable pew before everyone else takes it," she taps your shoulder and goes to put her plate in the bin. You followed her. She linked her arm with you, and you two walked to the chapel. "Can we be normal for a second?"
"What?" you look at her confused.
"Like, can I talk to you like an actual person? Drop the formalities and talk about boys and drama. I miss that part of my life before my vows," she looked at you with such sadness. "I've been depressed since joining. All the people I talk to shut me down and are so condescending," she adds.
"You know what, I also miss talking normally. I had a conversation with Father Parker, and I was actually having fun. It felt like catching up with an old friend," you leaned into her. "Yes, you can talk to me normally. I'd really enjoy it," she squeezes your arm and quietly 'thank you' as Abbess Drew stands up.
Morning prayers went by so quickly now that you had someone who you know will be there for you. After prayers, you walked with Lyla to her duties and sat there and listened to her talk about everything and anything. Your cheeks hurt from smiling the whole time.
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There was a knock at Abbess Drew's door.
"Come in," her voice boomed. Her door creaked open. His big frame peeked in. "Come in, Father O'Hara," she says as she stands up. He slides in and stands in front of her desk. She bows and signals him to sit.
"Why do I feel like I got called to the Principal's office," he tries to joke.
"Because I'm annoyed," her voice was dead serious, which sent chills down his shine. "The Sister's job is to do their duties for Our Lord. And when one of the Fathers' has disappeared and the sister cannot do the duty they are called to do, you are interfering with their relationship with God," she looks down at him. "Do you understand Father O'Hara?"
"Yes, Abbess Drew. I apologized to her this morning. I plan on having her work today. Thank you," his gaze is solely on his hands. He waits for her to say something. All he hears is her sitting with a huff. He looks up, and she's rubbing her temples.
"She's a wonderful woman. She's devoted to her faith. Don't mess it up." She says, "I can see her in this office one day. Please, Miguel, don't," she waves him off.
He gets up to leave but stops. "I can see that she's a wonderful woman. I will do my best to keep her on the path of God," he bows and leaves the office.
He takes a breath and looks up to find Father Parker in front of him. "You suck," he says. They walk together. "What did you tell her?"
"Some stories," Father Parker laughs. "I know you're a private man, but the church mouse is a sweet kid. Also, why do you look like shit?" Father Parker points to his clothes
"I went out and tripped in the woods," he answers. "Everyone tells me that she's sweet," he points back at the Abbess's office. "Got chewed out for leaving. Which I didn't till later. I was asleep at the desk," he looks out the window. Church mouse? he thought to himself. fitting, I guess.
"You were asleep?" Father Parker yelled. "I slammed on your door. How did you not hear me?" he starts laughing. "Miguel, you say you were sleeping, but it honestly sounds like you were in a coma," he slaps his friend in the back.
"I have to shower. I will see you later," he bows to him and leaves.
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Lunch came quicker than you had thought. You ended up missing your private prayers and a shower. You spend your morning with Lyla as she does her duties in the chapel, which is a lot more sitting than actual cleaning. You guys talked about your lives before the church and the things you two miss. You two ate lunch, and she walked you to the door that led to the fathers' offices.
"I bid you a fair goodbye, my love, for I, Lyla, will miss you deeply," she bows, and the two of you laugh. "But for real, Have a good night. I'll see you at breakfast."
"Have a good evening, Lyla," you say as you slip into the office hall. You walk down the hallway and round the corner to his office. You look at the oak door and knock. You hear shuffling, and the door swings open to Father O'Hara looking down at you. "Good afternoon, Father O'Hara," he moves out of the way for you to walk in.
You walked to the middle of the room and looked around. You looked for a broken painting. The carpet seems vacuumed, so you figured he probably cleaned it up. He shuts the door and walks around to his desk. He motions for you to sit. He hands a pile of paper to you.
"You'll be sorting this into piles of topics and then organized into dates," he says and turns back to his pile of papers.
You looked around at the objects around his office—no pictures of family, no pictures of him and Father Parker, no personal things. There's a crucifix on the wall beside him. There are tons of different books behind him. You looked at him. His eyebrows are heavy on his face. His eyes darted from one end of the page to the other. They are narrow as he reads a specific line. He sniffles every few seconds. His hair is damp. There's barely any expression on his face. His eyes flick up to yours.
"What?" he asks.
"Oh, nothing, Father," you drop your head to look at the paper in front of you. The side of his mouth twitches to a smile.
You read through the papers. Most are about different rights and rituals of the church around Easter. Some were about the history of how Easter came to be. A lot of the papers were from the Renaissance period.
You were almost done with your pile when Father O'Hara stretched and groaned. You look up from your papers. You set them on the desk and rolled your shoulders. It doesn't help that the pain from helping Father Parker still ached. You scrunch your face in pain when you straight out your back. He looks at you with curiosity.
"Pain in your back?" he asks.
"Yeah, I'm still sore from helping Father Parker with his office last night," you said, picking the papers back up.
"Here," he stands, and your eyes follow his movements till he disappears behind you. His hand comes to your shoulders. You tense up at his hand's sudden touch. He begins rolling his thumbs, shading your shoulder blades. You relax and lean into his pressure. You close your eyes and enjoy the moment of release. You hum as the tension in your back ceases. He smiles down at you as you ease into his hands. His thumbs roll over a tender spot in your back. You finch away and yelp. His face goes hot. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you."
"No, you're good. It's your super tense right there," you say.
He retreats to his seat. He picks up some papers and looks up at you. "I'm quite hungry. Would you mind grabbing us some dinner?" he asks. You nod and go to leave.
Once the door closes, he sighs. He leans back in his chair. A tent has grown in his pants. He rubs his temples and looks up at the ceiling.
"I wish she didn't have this effect on me," he groans into his hands. He adjusts his pants and his breath hitches. He swears under his breath. He grinds the palm of his hand into his pants. He grits his teeth. He continues the motion at a steady pace. He closes his eyes. His breathing quickens as his pace slow increases. His palm slides over his tip, and his mouth falls open. He undoes his belt. His fingers were on the button of his pants. He imagines you. You in between his legs—looking up at him with those bright eyes. He quickly pops the button and zipper. His hand drives into his briefs. He wraps his fingers around his girth. His mouth opens slightly as he pants, waiting. He begins moving his hand down his length. His other hand grips onto the table.
He imagines his fist as your mouth as he quickens his strokes. He slides his hand on his desk, then quickly clenches it into a fist, thinking about what you felt like under his hands. His eyes squeeze shut, holding onto the thought of you under his desk. He mumbles your name as he inches closer to completion. His strokes become uneven, and his nails pushed into his palm, causing blood to be drawn. His jaw clenched with enough pressure that would crush bones. The last couple of strokes, and he was done. He put his head on the desk and became embarrassed at what he did.
He mumbled about how he shouldn't have done that to the thought of you. Innocent you. The little sister with the heart of gold. The quiet sister. The church mouse.
His breathing slowed, and he sat up to clean himself off. He looked at his desk and a painting of Jesus looked back at him. He glared at the book and slammed the cover closed. A soft knock at the door pulled him to reality. He stuffed himself back in and said it was OK to come in. You handed him a plate of dinner's leftovers.
"Thank you, church mouse," he set the plate next to him and continued to work on the papers around him.
You looked at him and scrunched your nose. Church mouse? You knew the other sisters had called you that, but you had no idea the fathers referred to you as such. You glared at him while you ate. Does everyone think of you as that? A church mouse.
He glances up and sees you glaring at him and chewing angrily.
"Everything alright?" he asks.
"You called me church mouse," you mumbled.
"I did? Oh, my mistake," He goes back to reading the papers and taking notes.
You look down at your plate. You push around the food. You let his passive tone repeat over and over in your head. You tried to eat some food but instead you just stabbed the food and you couldn’t hide your emotions. You scolded at your dinner, thinking about his comment.
"Do you see me as a church mouse," you asked hastily. "I know the sisters call me that to be mean," you say.
"I think it's an endearing name," He says without looking up from his notes.
“Oh,” you bring your fork to your mouth.
You silently ate your food while Father O'Hara continued his work. You watch his brown eyes scan the pages, looking for the exact line he wants. You glance over at his plate. Never touched and left to get cold. You watch how his fingers slide in between the pages. You watch how he flexes and then relaxes. He puts the pages down and picks up the pen lying next to his food. He clears his throat. You flick your eyes to his. Instead of seeing his eyes gazing at the sheets of paper on the desk, you're met with his eyes staring back at you. You sallow harshly and look down at your plate. Hoping his gaze would soon turn to something other than the top of your head.
"Why do you think they call you that?" He leans back into his seat.
"One of the sisters told me, they thought it was about how I grew up in the church," You refused to look at him. Instead, you look over one of the books on his desk.
"Have you heard the expression, 'quiet as a church mouse'?" He looks down at you.
"I think I heard it once," You flip through the pages. You look at the illustrations of what the old pagans did on the spring equinox. Your face becomes warm.
"Sure, The Sisters might mean it in a mean way but I think they call you that because you're quiet and they don't understand why you don't join them," he smiles. You look up at him. His expression is soft and genuine. His hands are folded on his lap. "I think with you befriending Sister Lyla, your name might chance to just mouse," he jokes.
You ignore his comment and go back to flipping through the book. He watches you for a few minutes. He notices small mannerisms like how you twitch your nose when you read something you don't understand or how you hold your book with such gentleness as if it will fall apart if handled too harshly.
He starts to think about how he would hold you. He wants to protect you from whatever happens, even if it means himself. He watched you read about how the church turned pagan rituals into Catholic rights. He noticed how your eyes got wide when there were illustrations of the roles. He knew exactly what part you were reading. He saw the wheels of your mind turning, reading about how the ancient pagans chose a man and woman to act as the god and goddess and how they would "plant the seed" for spring equinox. He saw the look of realization that the eggs around Easter time were a symbol for a different type of egg. A grin crept onto his face. He thought about how he would have wished you were his partner for those rituals. Heat spread to his thighs as more impure thoughts came into his mind. He looked around for anything to distract him. His list of items he wanted for the display.
"I need your ideas," He quickly says, shaking you from your reading.
"About?"
"The displays," He stands and moves towards the window. The sun cast a pink ray onto his face. "I was thinking of the bishop's Easter robes, Palm, and a monstrance. what do you think?" he turned back to you.
"Why those?" You questioned. He gave you a surprised look. "Well, people are going to the display to learn. I know why but you have to explain in a way to someone who doesn't have years of studies on catholic practices."
"I knew you were smart," He chuckles. A chill runs down your spine. that dream. You thought. "These robes are worn by the Bishops during the Easter traditions. The Purple robes are worn for Lent, the week leading up the Easter except for when they wear Rosé on the fourth day of Lent, The red is worn on the seven Sundays after easter for Pentecost Sunday, as well as Palm Sunday and Good Friday, and the white robe is worn on Easter Sunday."
"That's just the days they wear certain colors. Why do they wear those colors on those days?" You asked.
"The purple signifies the mysteries we are celebrating as a church and during Lent we are reflecting on issues of repentance and passion for Jesus Christ. The White symbolizes rejoicing and purity of the soul. Rose vestments are worn to represent the joyful reward that comes from offering sacrifice with patience. The red is to signify the presence of the Holy Spirit in our community and our unity in Christ." He quickly retorts back at you.
"Ok, now combine them." You smile, and you see his face put the pieces together.
"I understand now," He looks out the window.
"I guess working in labs made it hard for you to not think analytically," you laugh.
"Did Father Parker tell you I worked in labs?" he turns to you.
"No, but he mentioned you were good at biology. I just assumed that's what you did before joining," You look at the floor as you explained. You hear his footsteps come closer. His finger lifts your chin.
"I didn't work in labs," he looks down at you. His voice is ice. His eyes filled with hatred.
"I understand. My apologies, Father O'Hara." he releases your chin and turns to his desk.
"Please write a couple of letters to these bishops," He picks up a piece of paper off his desk. "Ask them if we could borrow the items that are next to their name," he says coldly and sits back in his seat. You began your task. His quick change in personality frightens you and you wish to never see that again. You tucked the thought back into your mind, hoping you would never make him upset again.
He watched you write out the letters. Your hand shook slightly and he heard quiet sniffles. He dropped his shoulders in realization. He had scared you. He looked down at the desk. Sighing in disappointment, you turned back to his work.
The two of you worked in silence for a few hours. He would glance up at you to see if you were alright. Each time he hoped you'd be looking at him as well. He wanted to apologize for his actions but couldn't find a way to make it natural. He turned to the window to see the sun had left. He cleared his throat and suggested it was late and that you should go to bed.
You turned towards him, not wanting to make direct eye contact. He searched for any signs that you had cried. He found none. "I can escort you to your room," he says in a quiet tone. You simply nodded. He opened the door for you. He came out and locked his office. He followed behind you to the office door. You opened it and held it for him. You try to quietly shut it. You looked out the window and watched the night creatures wander about on the abbey's lawn. His shoes were the loudest thing in the hallways. You didn't dare try to look at him. Instead, you try to read the signs in the hall. Mostly about different events being held. He walked with you silently down the halls. They felt longer than usual. The silence was too loud and the air was filled with intense emotions. You see the door to the Sisters' rooms. He stops you before you can open the door. "I'm sorry for my actions," he simply said when you headed to your bedroom door.
"It's fine, Father O'Hara," you said as you opened the door. You stood in the doorway, quickly making eye contact and then closing the door.
Father O'Hara stood by your door. He felt awful about what he did. He looked at the ground and walked away, letting his feet lead him to wherever. He thought about how you looked the last couple of hours. How you didn't want to look at him. Is this how you would treat me if you found out? he asked himself. He kept walking. He didn't know where to go. All he knew was he didn't want to be in the abbey.
The halls stretched on, the beige paint only adding to how much he didn't want to be there. He glances at the event boards and reads a couple of familiar names. He saw that Father Parker was hosting an AA meeting next week. He weakly chuckled at the thought. He turned towards the stairway. It always felt colder than the rest of the old building. He dragged his hand down the railing as he tried to not throw himself down the stairs. The old stones jugged out and he tried to count all the different colors he saw. He counted 4, brown, darker brown, gray, and black. He continued his path to the abbey's lobby. Small donations were lying on a bench, tied in bags. He pushed open the door to the outside.
He walked out to the sidewalks outside of the looming building. He listened to the trees move as the wind picked up. He looked at the trash stuck in the rain drains. He hated himself for making you feel scared. He puts his hands in his pockets as he tries to not be consumed by the guilt. He watched his feet as he walked and thought about how he wanted to make it up to you. He wondered if you were going to be distant with him because of tonight. He smelt the familiar lilac. He stopped and looked at the small flowers of the bundle. He picked one of the bulbs. He continued to walk, staring at the flower in his hand. He smiled at the purple petals. He walks past the shops and sees a glance of his reflection. He stops to look at it, dropping the flower. He hates the man he sees, even more than most days. He stares into his sunken eyes and furrows his brows. Anger at himself causes his chest to rise faster until he's had enough and punches the glass.
"Woah there Bud," a voice cuts off his rage. Father O'Hara turns to his eyes narrow. "No need to take your frustration out of the window of some poor shop," the obviously drunk man laughs to himself. "Actually, I think I know the family who owns this place. I should give 'em a call. tell 'em there's a man trying to rob them." He's had enough. He walks up to the man and grabs his head. He throws him to the ground and starts tearing. All of his anger turned to rage. Anger about this guy, about the church, about him, and mostly anger about God. He stopped to catch his breath. Covered in blood he looks down at the man. Guilt settled back in. He sits back on his feet and looks at what he did to this man and to you. His stomach groaned. He sighed and drank some of the blood before returning to the sleeping abbey.
Summary: Father O'Hara, tormented by hunger and guilt, escapes the abbey for a bar. There, he meets a woman who becomes his prey. Consumed by his monstrous cravings, he brutally attacks her while haunted by thoughts of you. As he disposes of her body, he wrestles with his monstrous nature and fractured faith.
Pairing: Priest!Vampire!Miguel O'Hara/Nun!reader
Warnings: Public sex, fingering, pinv sex, biting, murder, and ripping apart a body (very brief line about it).
a/n: its slightly gory. I'm pretty desensitize to gore but if that's not your thing then i dont judge for abandoning this fic.
Father O'Hara woke up at his desk. The painting is still on the floor. The shattered glass reflected the moonlight into his office. He stared at the bright shards and tried to think about what happened. He traces the grooves on the desk from his nails. He hums at the memory of you bathing in the bathhouse. A pain shot threw his body. He clutches his stomach and looks out the window. The sun had been long gone and most people were either ending the night or just beginning their exploits. His stomach screamed and he looked at the clock. It was late enough he thought.
He stood from his desk and grabbed his coat. He figured the other fathers had either left or too into their work to hear him. He stretches and unlocks his office door. Wiping sleep from his eyes, he moves swiftly through the hallways. His shoes clicked against the tiles. He figured if someone was woken up by his shoes they either wouldn't care or try to confront him but notice he's not in a good mood and leave him alone. All he could think about was getting out of the abbey and getting some food.
Once he saw the front entrance of the abbey, he darted for the door. The early spring air envelops him as he walks to the other side of the street. He quickly checked behind his shoulder to make sure no one saw him leave or tried to follow. Sweat dripped down his neck as a shiver went down his spine.
The night was delightfully warm and the street lights added a soft glow to the streets. He made his way to the bar on the other side of town. He walked with haste down the sleeping streets. He didn't care who saw him. Most would think a priest was sent to do final rites at this hour. Not that he cared what they thought. He knew if someone did see him they would ask tomorrow and he would have to come up with some stupid lie about the town a few over needed him. The town was too small to get away with the 'last rites' lie.
He kept his head low. His chest fills with guilt about what he's about to do. He catches his reflection in a shop window. His figure makes him pause for a second to look at the slight in front of him. He studies his face. The dark circles and sunken cheeks. He scoffs and continues his travels to the edge of town. He kept his jacket close to him.
He thought about the last time he ate. I swore it was more than enough, he thought. He grits his teeth and his stomach screams once more. He closed his eyes and took in the air. The crisp early blossom smell invaded his senses. He thought about your scent this morning. You had a floral aroma. He dug deeper into his memory, he wanted to know what flowers were around in the bathhouse or if you had brought your soap in. His pace quickened as he searched his memory for any clue of your scent. He tried going through all the flowers in the bath house trying to remember what they smelt like but he came up empty.
He took a deep breath in frustration and stopped in his tracks. His eyes snapped to the right of him. It was a small house. One of the types that normally had a family of one or two kids. He looked to the side of the house. A tall bush swayed in the breeze. Lilac. He walked over and held a flower in his hand. He closed his eyes and carefully brought the flower to his nose. He inhales the familiar scent. As if to ruin the mood his stomach turned once again. He groans and turns back to the street.
Once he got closer to the bar, he quickly removed his collar and shoved it into his pocket. He figured the people out this late on a weeknight probably weren't the same people who frequented the abbey but having the collar would ruin his chances to get you out of his mind. He unbuttoned the top couple of buttons of his dress shirt. He walked with haste to the bar. He tried to keep some wits about him and not get lost in his hunger. His mouth filled with hot bile from his stomach. He tried to ignore the feeling and try to not break out in a sprint.
He rounded a corner and headed down the alley to the bar. Spray paint littered the old brick walls as he stepped over discarded posters. He hears people laughing in the bar. A few people were outside in the alley smoking. He gave them a nod. He placed his hand on the handle and took a deep breath.
He swung open the door with so much gusto that some of the patrons looked up in horror. He put his head down and walked to the bar in shame. The bartender looks at him and figures it's a strong drink kind of night. He pours him a glass of rye and slides it to Father O'Hara. He nods and drinks. He stares at his foggy reflection of the bottles on the shelves. He hates that he has to be here. He hates what he has to do.
He feels a person sit beside him. He shifts his eyes to look at the stranger. A young blonde. She calls over the bartender and orders two of "whatever he's having." She turns to him. "Hello, I'm." he doesn't care to know her name. She goes on about how she's traveling around Europe because she "came into'' a lot of money. He fakes his interest. He's hungry and she'll do fine. He places his hand on hers and she swoons for him. She goes on about how this trip is to remember what it feels like to be free again. Her hand sits on his thigh. As he maintains eye contact with her. He can smell her overly sweet perfume, it's making him feel sick. Not including how much his stomach hurts.
He knows he needs to feed. He just doesn't understand why it's so soon; normally it takes about a month before he becomes starving. He watches her lips move. He hasn't listened to a word she's said. He can only think about how hungry he is.
He orders more drinks and she downs them one after another. She starts talking about her douche ex-boyfriend who was supposed to come with her on this trip. He said something along the lines of 'Oh then how would we have met if he was here?' She giggles and he puts on a fake smile. He keeps drinking knowing it won't affect him anymore. He remembers the one time he and Parker got plastered at an old park. A part of him longs to get drunk. But that part of him is gone now. Just like the part that could taste food. He stares at the blonde. She hasn't stopped talking about her plans after the trip. She talks about how her family would have wanted her to be a mother and settle.
Imagines of you flash in his mind as she talks. He thinks about how sweet you are. How you are content with whatever people give you. Content with whatever God gives you.
The Lord works in his own ways. He smiles at your phrase. The blonde thinks it's about something she said. He's staring at her lips. She leans into him and plants a kiss on his cheek. She giggles and excuses herself. He turns back to the bartender and orders a few more drinks for himself. The bartender strikes up a conversation with him.
"She seems quite keen on you?"
"Yeah, I guess so," he says as he brings the glass to his lips.
"Might get lucky tonight then," the bartender chuckles, "But, the way you're drinking and how you haven't been paying that poor girl any mind, I think you've got someone else in mind," the bartender says his bold statement while cleaning a glass. Miguel just looks up, through his brows, and the bartender retreats to the other end. He finishes the rest in the glass and looks at the blonde coming back.
She puts her hand on his arm and sits down. He flashes a smile and she sips her drink. "I've been talking too much about myself. Tell me about yourself," she leans against his bicep and looks at him through her lashes.
He gives a fake name. Says he's from out of town and was out in the woods hunting. She swoons about the hunting part of his story. Says something about how she likes a big, strong, rugged man. He makes up stuff about his hunting trips. She asks about family and he tells her about some sob story about his dad dying in a hunting accident and his mom becoming insane with the loss of her love. Which is furthest from the truth, They both live happily in New York enjoying retirement. She asks where he's originally from since his accent is "abnormal." He lies and says from a few towns over.
Father O'Hara pretends to stare longingly into her eyes. He keeps drinks coming and acts as if she has been his soulmate. Touching her hands, her arm, slowly moved up to tuck a hair behind her ear. She leans into his hand. His hunger was raging.
"Come on," he simply says and they make their way back to the alley. Her hand in his, he pulls her to the wall and her lips try to meet his. He pulls away at the advance. He spins her around so she is up against the wall. He kisses her neck. He listens to her breathing. Her hands travel up to his hair. His hands explore her curves and begin to lift her skirt. She shifts, accidentally letting his hand slip up her thigh. Her mouth falls open at his cold hands. His fingers hook themselves around the waistband of her underwear. He dips his fingers down. A small moan comes from her lips. His stomach rumbles and he groans. He needs to hurry this up.
He removes his hand and pulls away from assaulting her neck. He flips her around and pulls up her skirt. He's completely uninterested in this. He removes himself from his pants. She turns her head.
"Wow, you're big," she sloppily said. He rolls his eyes and pulls down her underwear. He rubs his tip in between her folds. He slips into her entrance. His hand comes to the top of her back. He pushes her into the wall as he slowly slides in. She lets out a loud moan. He growls and begins his assault on her pussy. The alley filled with skin and lust. His hand holding her skirt up moves to her clit. He can almost hear her eyes rolling to the back of her head. He pounds harder, whispering in her ear to come.
He feels her tighten up and he smiles. He kisses her neck and whispers praises. She comes undone beneath him. His smile turns wicked as he opens his mouth to bite.
His fangs pierced her skin with ease. Her moans sounded more like screams but the head rush she must have... he slips out of her and begins to drain her. A flash of your face appears in his mind. He snarls and bites a chunk off of her neck. Her body falls limp to the dirty ground of the alley. He looks down. His stomach finally settled.
He picks up her body and starts to the woods on the other side of the bar. He tosses her against a tree and looks for 'his' old cabin. He had stumbled upon it a few months after arriving in town. He had asked around if there were any hunters in town and Parker said there was an older man that had recently passed and his family didn't live around here. You know it is frowned upon if a priest hunts. Parker's warning whispered through the wind.
He walks up to the cabin and goes inside to wash off his hands. He grabs the shovel from its home next to the door. He walks back to the girl and drags her deeper into the woods. He thought about how you would react if you knew what he was. He wondered how scared you would be if you knew. A pain in his chest made him understand that he didn't want you to be scared of him.
He started digging. The dirt flies behind him and the pile grows. He doesn't know why he's in such a rush. He knew no one would find him. No one goes in the woods. The townspeople fear the Beast. He smiled at the name. It was given to the bear attacks that happen in the fall and spring. The Police said it was just a bear attack but the news spun it to sound more fantastical. There's a Beast in the woods. A Bear reaching EIGHT feet! He remembers all the folks going into the abbey praying their family would be spared from its wrath.
He continued the hole to depths of at least seven or eight feet down. He looked at his work then at the body. The body of the girl swifts in his mind to look like you. His brows narrow. He sat next to the hole. He stared at you. He thought about how your skin looked in this light. He tilted his head and wondered what your cheek felt like under his touch. He thought about how he would treat you better than how this girl's boyfriend treated her... hell, even how he treated this girl. He sat there just staring at this girl's body while dreaming about you. How you did everything with purpose and how graceful you were with even the smallest movement. How you gave everyone your full attention, even Him. God. Your God. the same God that he's supposed to worship. the same God that created a monster like him. The same God that placed rules for him and forbade him to even think in the ways he was. Anger bubbled in his chest and he lunged at the body. He begins ripping her apart.
When all is done he looks around, covered in dirt and blood, he pushes the pieces of her into her grave and begins filling the hole. The somber air fills the wood with silence as he ponders why he decided to be the man he is.
Summary: After a quiet morning prayer, you bond with Sister Lyla and her friends before helping Father O'Hara with his project. Confessions and unsettling dreams stir guilt and tension, culminating in a tense encounter with Father O'Hara that hints at deeper secrets. Navigating the abbey’s strict rules, you confront your own emotions and the shadows lurking within the community.
Pairing: Priest!Vampire!Miguel O'Hara/Nun!reader
Warnings: man gets mad he cant fuck? he watches you bathe? again there's no down right smut but there will be so please MDNI!!
a/n: quick little background on this. I started writing this when the second movie came out and ive been pushing off so fully if i post it i can get the story i want out and not be constantly thinking about it.
After you finished eating you returned the bowl to the kitchen and headed to the convent's chapel for morning prayers. You found a spot close to the back and waited for the other sisters to arrive from breakfast. You kept your head low knowing that none of them would talk to you. You sat waiting for Abbess Drew to go up to the front.
"Church mouse," a sister whispered over her shoulder. "Hey, you," a hand flicked your knee. You looked up to see three sisters looking at you.
"Yes?" You asked.
"I overheard you working with Father O'Hara on the exhibit," she stated.
"Yes. I am," you looked at the others around her.
"Well, I'm Sister Lyla and this is Sister Margo and Sister Peni." She points at the others. "We've been here for about three years so if you need any help we're here," She smiles.
"I've been here for five years," you said, slowly. Her face drops and becomes pale.
"Oh, I'm so sorry. I thought you just joined. And people call you church mouse, I thought it was because you've always been a part of the church and just now decided to take your vows,"
"Ok," you said slowly once again, trying to figure out what she was saying. She stared at you waiting for you to tell her off for being disrespectful or something along that line. The two of you just stared at each other waiting for the other to talk, but luckily, you were saved by Abbess Drew standing at the front.
"Good morning, sisters," her voice boomed out.
"Good morning" a monotonous tone rang out.
One of the older fathers comes and puts his hand on her back to usher to her seat. He walks to the smaller of the podiums and begins reciting the passages for today's morning sermon. You started to become more dazed the longer the father talked. A hand flicked your knee again. You looked over at her. Your eyes pleaded for her to stop.
"What is the project?" she whispered. You wave your hand to tell her to stop. "I worked with a father once. mostly just errands and small tasks. But you get to be a part of the project. That's really cool. congrats." she smiled at you.
"Thanks," You whispered back. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Abbess Drew glare at the two of you. You slide down into your seat hoping she wouldn't come to tell you off. You listened to the father drone on and on. You wished they would pick one of the younger fathers to do the morning sermon. Give them more training, you thought. It would also help with keeping the sister's attention. Give them someone that wouldn't put them to sleep. You were staring blankly at the pew in front of you when Abbess Drew thanked the Priest and walked up to the front.
She lifts her hands and all of the sisters' heads bow. "O God, come to my assistance," Abbess Drew sang out.
"O God, make haste to help me," you answer back. A sea of the other sisters' voices drowns yours out.
"Glory be to the Creator, to the Redeemer and the Holy Spirit," Abbess Drew raised her arms above her head.
"As it was in the beginning, it is now and will be forever," the sisters answered.
"Amen," and with that morning prayers were over. And you were excused to do your silent prayers and other rituals.
"Hey, I'm really sorry," Sister Lyla finds you. "I've never seen you around the abbey," she follows right behind you. You make your way up to Abbess Drew, trying to ignore her. You wished she had left you alone instead of following you to apologize.
"I'm normally assigned to the library," you told her in hushed tones, trying to end the conversation. "Good morning, Abbess Drew," you bow.
"Good morning Sister. I hear Father O'Hara is looking for an assistant for his project," she stretches out her arm to invite you to follow her to her office. You follow behind her.
"Yes, Sister. He told me yesterday after he asked me to help him select books for said project," You said, trying to not let your excitement escape.
"Yes, He has come to me and asked for you specifically," she opens her door to her office. You follow her in. You watched her sit in her seat and waited for her to permit you to sit. She waves her hands and you sit in a big plush chair. "I will allow it. He doesn't know how long the project will take but he also suggested you be his assistant permanently. I told him that would be up to you once the project is over," she said. You thanked her and waited for her to dismiss you. "Oh and sister, he asked for you in the afternoon so after lunch report to his office. In the meantime do the duties you would normally do in the even now. That's all, you're dismissed."
With that, you left. You thought about what you would normally do in the afternoon. Prayer and shower were the biggest ones that came to mind. You walked around the abbey's hallways. You see a bulletin board with the abbey's events. A bake sale next week and a fair in the middle of spring. You saw some other meetings that are being held in the abbey's extra rooms. You scanned to find if Father O'Hara was in charge of any of them. It looks like it's all the younger priests that are handling them.
You knew he was older but not like the cardinal level of old. He could probably become a bishop in the next year if he wanted to. You started at the flyers and the memory of the dream from last night reappeared in your mind. A chill spreads through your body. You stared at his name. Confession. You need to confess. You know thinking about sinning really isn't a sin but you reasoned that because you are a member of the abbey, your thoughts should be clean and pure. You turned and walked towards the chapel, hoping the other sisters had left and the Father in charge of confession this morning would be in the booth.
While you walk to the main chapel, some of the sisters give you weird looks. You pushed open one of the newer doors to go outside. You walked along the stone path to the community's chapel. You liked the community's chapel. It was much larger and grander than the convent chapel. The beautiful stained glass filters the light in bright colors and makes the inside feel painted in a way. You pushed open the large doors. You looked around at all the windows. The beautiful colors filled the room with such brilliance. You release the breath you were holding. You walked up to the confessional booth. The old door creaks, alerting the father to someone coming in.
You sit on the hard, wooden bench. You took a deep breath and closed your eyes. You lift your hand to your forehead. A light tap then to your chest. You opened your eyes and tapped your left shoulder. You finish on your right and place your hands in your lap. "Forgive me Father for I have sinned. It has been one week since my last confession," you said. You thought about the last time you confessed. You felt so guilty that you took extra food one day. You were plagued with thoughts of God condemning you for greed because of it. You practically cried to the priest about it.
"I think I've committed the sin of lust by accident," you say to the wall in front of you. the father hums and you continue, "I had a dream where a man touched me." You hesitated on the last words. You thought about the dream. He didn't necessarily touch you inappropriately. But the way it made you feel... you couldn't get over that feeling. "This is all I can remember. I am sorry for these and all my sins." You feel the ghost of his hands running up your leg. You move to push your thighs together. Tears threatened your eyes.
"As penance, review the readings in Ephesians 4. Focus on verses 17 through 24." He says.
"Thank you," you pause. You bring your hands to your chest. You bow your head as your eyes flutter shut. "My God, I am sorry for my sins with all my heart. In choosing to do wrong and failing to do good, I have sinned against you whom I should love above all things. I firmly intend, with your help, to do penance, to sin no more, and to avoid whatever leads me to sin. our savior Jesus Christ suffered and died for us." You bring your hand up to sign the cross, "In his name, my God, have mercy."
You pause. "Amen," you and the priest say in unison.
"You are doing well, my child. By coming to god before you act upon these urges, you will overcome these sins before they damage your soul," the priest says. "Bless this child, may she not be consumed by the sinful way of the world and be reunited with your light once more. Amen," he prays.
You stand up quietly. You shut the door behind you and walk over to the candles. An elderly woman is lighting hers. You walk up next to her. She offers you her still-lit match. You bowed in thanks and lit your own candle. You bow and give a prayer of thanks to god. Once finished you place your hand on the elderly woman's shoulder. She smiles and bows.
You try to make sure your steps aren't too loud for the visitors and make your way to the doors. You open them enough for you to sneak out. You sighed and made your way back to your room. Your footsteps are faster than normal. You felt tears prick in your eyes. Once the tear fell, you started to run.
You ran back to your room. Ignoring the concern of the people around you. You slammed your door and fell. You brought your legs to your chest. You weep and pray to god to end whatever you're feeling. To stop whatever is in your mind. You want it to all go away. You hugged your legs tighter to your body and let the tears fall. Your throat hurts as you hold back sobs. You knew you were crying because God had finally shown you the feelings you were feeling were sinful. Your crying was to show him you are willing to change.
You sat for many minutes. You let the feelings come flowing and you didn't see an end in sight. You figured you would end up asleep on the floor, missing your duties and meals. You decided that Abbess Drew would understand if you explained to her tomorrow. Your tears had slowed but your breathing still hiccupped. You let your eyes close as you let the peacefulness of the end of the cry fill you. This is when you feel as if God has forgiven you.
You hear a soft knock on the door. You quickly wipe your face and stand up to your feet. You brushed off your skirt and closed your eyes. You inhaled as much as you could and held it till you stopped feeling like crying. You exhaled and opened the door.
Abbess Drew stood in your doorway. "What's troubling you, dear?" she asked. Her hand gently landed on your upper back, trying to coax you out of your room. You sniffled and looked up.
"Confession stirred up some hidden feelings," you weakly smiled at her. "Sorry to have bothered you and the others."
"That's alright." she pulled you in for a hug. "Now, go on and do your penance," she said with a smile.
"Thank you, Abbess," you walked back to your room. You lean against the door while it closes. You closed your eyes and let all the feelings melt off of you before you moved to your table. You opened your bible and began to read the passage the priest gave you.
17 So I tell you this, and insist on it in the Lord, that you must no longer live as the Gentiles do, in the futility of their thinking. 18 They are darkened in their understanding and separated from the life of God because of the ignorance that is in them due to the hardening of their hearts. 19 Having lost all sensitivity, they have given themselves over to sensuality so as to indulge in every kind of impurity, and they are full of greed.
20 That, however, is not the way of life you learned 21 when you heard about Christ and were taught in him in accordance with the truth that is in Jesus. 22 You were taught, with regard to your former way of life, to put off your old self, which is being corrupted by its deceitful desires; 23 to be made new in the attitude of your minds; 24 and to put on the new self, created to be like God in true righteousness and holiness.
You finished reading and mulled over the meaning and how it pertains to your situation. A few tears had fallen as you read but you knew that was to be expected. You prayed and thanked God for forgiving you. You closed your bible. You looked out your window. It was so sunny out. The sky was a glorious blue and the birds were singing their praises.
"I need to wash all this off," you whispered to yourself. You stood and gathered your things for your shower. You walked to the bathhouse, trying to ignore the whispers from the sisters.
The bathhouse was too open for your liking but you lived with it. You set your towel and shoes by the wall. You removed your habit starting with your veil and cap. You undo your hair and run your fingers through it, massaging your scalp to release the tension in your head. You sighed and turned to sit. You lifted your skirt to pull your socks down, failing to notice the figure on the balcony of the bathhouse.
Father O'Hara watches as you drag the fabric down your legs. He hums at how your legs stretch. His gaze lingers at the end of your shirt, which is currently hanging at your hips. You fold your socks and put them in your shoes. He admires how gracefully you stand. His mouth waters as he watches your fingers undo the buttons of your habit. He grips the pillar he's standing next to, as you let the dress fall to the floor. He memorizes the muscles on your back as you stretch.
You fold the dress and remove your undergarments. It takes the will of God to keep him from running down there as you make your way into the bath. Father O'Hara watches how your muscles relax as soon as the warm water reaches your skin. Once you find your place to sit, he is practically leaning over the railing. He readjusts his pants as you lean back into the bath to soak your hair, and breasts on full display for the father. He groans at the sight.
He convinces himself to leave before he can't take it. He hurries to his office, quickly slamming the door and locking it. He sits in his chair uncomfortably. The strain on his pants is unbearable. He puts his arms on his desk and his head in his hands. He wants to scream. He wants to relieve himself. He wants to devour you. He looks up and the reason he can't be looking right at him. His God. Your God. The reason he can't have you.
He picks up his cup from his desk and hurls it across the room. It shatters against the painting, causing it to fall. He stares at the wall, not able to think. His nails dig at his desk. flashes of you in the bath run across his mind. Then the picture. Anger continues to build in his chest. His breathing is erratic. His heart is beating faster than ever before. He growls at the thoughts swirling in his mind.
A knock. A singular knock at the door. His heart sank to his feet. His breathing had stopped altogether. He released his grip on the desk. He looked around at the scene surrounding him. Another knock. He snapped at the door.
"Miguel?" a voice rang from the other side of the door. He ran up to the door and opened it enough to see who it was. Father Parker's worried look told him more than enough to know that everyone heard his outburst. "Are you alright?"
"Old nails. The painting fell and the glass shattered. sorry to startle you," his voice low. Father Parker knew something was wrong but knew prying wasn't going to help. He took that as truth and left.
Father O'Hara went back to his desk. He let his head fall to the surface. He stared out his window, beginning to think about all that just happened. He'll have to see you later. He'll have to be in this office with you. He closed his eyes and let the headache consume his mind.
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You walked down to the dining room for the sisters. Hearing the lively chatter from the hall. You stopped at the window and saw a group of fathers walking around outside. They looked to be in deep conversation. One amongst them was Father Parker. He looked scared or maybe worried, you really couldn't tell. You shoved your weight against the door of the dining room.
You walked over to the other sisters to see what was on the menu for lunch. It looked like chicken and some veggies. You smiled and headed to the line to get some food. Once your plate was made, you made your way to the table closest to the window.
Picking at the vegetable, you watched the birds fly around the courtyard. You watched how they looked as if they were playing tag. But as you watched more, when they dove at each other it was like a freefall but their trust in each other was more than just a silly little game. It was unconditional love. A love that they're willing to take life-threatening risks just to prove that they only want each other.
A plate smacked on the table across from you. "Did you hear?" Sister Lyla said.
"Gossip is morally wrong," you said, looking back towards the window. The birds had left.
"Is it gossip when I overheard the Fathers talking?" she tried to reason with you. You looked at her, wondering where she was going with this. "I heard Father Parker say he was concerned for Father O'Hara. He said he heard a crash in his office and when he went to go check out if he was alright, Father O'Hara said his painting fell," she paused only to take a bit of her food. "Father Parker said he doesn't believe him. I heard the two of them were friends before they joined the church. So I would believe Father Parker if he said something wasn't right with Father O'Hara," she finished her rant and enjoyed her meal as if she hadn't said all of that in one breath.
"What do you think was the noise then?" you asked, discarding your food to the side.
"I don't know," she said, "he seems like the kind of guy to get mad easily. Maybe someone got under his skin," she looked down at your food. You pushed it to her, you didn't want it now. "You'll be there after lunch, right? Well, you should tell me, if a painting really did break. Ease the tension of everyone. That's if he didn't clean it up," she said.
"You're right," you pondered on her statements. If a painting really did fall then you'd know the rumor is true that it just happened to have fallen. But what if it wasn't the painting? You tried not to overthink all the possible reasons for a loud crashing sound coming from a Father's office.
"What are you thinking?" Sister Lyla asked.
"What if it's not a painting?" you asked. "What if he tripped, or knocked something off his desk, or threw something or completely destroyed the room," your face began to contort into panic and confusion.
"Don't worry, I believe that it was just the painting that fell. I think Father Parker saw him in shock after the painting just spontaneously fell in his quiet office," her hand lands on yours. You looked up to see her bright smile.
"Thanks," you smiled back, "Well, I have to go explore his office now. Would you like to meet me for breakfast in the morning?" you asked, clearing the table.
"Yeah, I'll see you here in the morning," she followed you up to the door of the kitchen and you both disposed of your plates. She waved as she sat with Sister Margo. You smiled back at her.
You strolled through the hallway, gleaming. You were excited to have a friend. Five years and the only person you've had a real conversation with has been the Abbesses. You grinned while watching your feet. You had a lightness to your steps. You wanted to twirl around in the hallways of the abbey.
You made it to the door of the offices of the Fathers. You pushed it open lightly hoping to not make a sound. Though some of the Fathers are old, their hearing is still as good or maybe better than when they were younger. And they weren't afraid to complain that a sister was making too much noise in the offices while they tried to work.
You got to the old oak door with Father O'Hara's name scripted on it. You took a deep breath and knocked on the door. You waited for the door to open. You swayed on your feet. You knocked again. You heard footsteps approach you. You turned to see Father Parker walking towards you.
"Oh, Hello, Sister," he smiled. He sees you standing in front of Father O'Hara's door. "Is he not answering?" He asked and you stepped aside to let him try. He knocked loudly and then yelled through the door. "Father O'Hara, A sister is here to see you." He looks back at you. "Are you the sister assigned to his project?"
"Yes, Father," you answered.
"Well, I'm sorry about this. He normally is very punctual," he twists the knob of the door. "Huh, it's locked. I don't think I saw him wandering around the abbey after I saw him this morning. Would you like me to escort you to Sister Drew?"
"Yes please," you follow behind him. You two walked in silence for the majority of the way. You felt quite awkward. You wanted to ask him questions to lighten the mood, but he looks so concerned and the only question you want to ask is if they had been friends since before they both joined the church. You stared at the floor, trying to minimize the silence.
"One of the Sisters was telling me about your opportunity to work with Aug– Father O'Hara," he finally says. "Do you like history?" He slows his pace to match with you.
"Yeah, I was going to study history in college. Plus, My duties are in the library. Convenient if you need a book right then, instead of having to wait till the library opens."
"Hadn't thought of it like that," he laughed, "smart man."
You smiled at his comment. You liked talking to the Fathers. They're always so polite and the younger ones are more carefree with what they say. It reminds you of your friends before you joined the convent. You looked up at the Father and smiled.
"Father O'Hara isn't much for history. He has always been good at science. In school, he had a knack for biology. It was weird seeing here one day. I swear I thought he would have become a scientist," he smiled and looked out the window as if looking at a fleeting memory.
"You knew each other before joining?"
"Yeah, we were friends," he laughs, "he used to be a lot scarier. True me, kid, you did not want to meet him back then," his hand lands on your shoulder. Your thoughts drifted to what he might have been like before joining the church. You smiled at the thought of him in a lab coat and how someone that big could be a scientist.
"Well it looks like we're here," he knocks on the door.
"Come in," Abbess Drew's voice rang out. Father Parkers opened the door and Abbess Drew instantly stood to her feet. She quickly bowed, "Father Parker, what do I owe the pleasure?"
"Well, I found this one waiting for Father O'Hara. He doesn't seem to be in and I was escorting her back to you," he smiles. He stretches his arm to let you in. You walk into her office. You quickly bow and wait for her orders. "If you don't mind, I could use some help organizing the files in my office."
"You seem to be popular," she smiles at you. "Very well, you may help Father Parker tonight. Father Parker, if you see Father O'Hara, Please remind him that if he needs to do other things please tell me so we don't have another little meeting like this. The sisters work for our Lord, not just the Fathers," she gently reminds him.
"Yes Sister Drew," he bows and starts to leave. You bow to Abbess Drew and walk out behind Father Parker. He closes the door and looks at you. "So what do you want to know?"
"What do you mean?" you looked up at him.
"About Father O'Hara. You have a whole encyclopedia about him, right here," he smiles and begins walking to his office. "I can tell you about this one time we snuck out to go see these girls in our class. Poor guy, he was so nervous."
"Father O'Hara? nervous?" you asked, grinning. Father Parker smiled back.
"Oh yeah! He almost fell out of his window when I went to go get him. But when we got there, Oh man! He was stumbling over his words and couldn't look any of them in the eyes. He just sat there playing with his hands. He wouldn't speak to me for a whole day afterward. Said I was 'being too mean' for putting him in the situation," he laughed so loud, that you looked around to see if you were bothering anyone.
"Do you know why he joined?" you asked.
"Boring question," his voice rang off the walls of the abbey. "But all I know is he showed up here, asking for me. The abbey gave him a place to stay. After a few months, he joined the church and started his journey to becoming a priest. He never told me why he was looking for me or why he decided to stay," his voice became deadly serious. "I don't mind, I was starting to miss my old buddy." he paused for a second. He giggled to himself. "You should see him when he's a few drinks in. He cannot hold his liquor. Which is weird if you think about it. O'Hara? That's an Irish name." he said matter-of-factly. "I have a question for you," you looked up in shock. He laughed, "Nothing bad. I was wondering why the other sisters call your church mouse."
"Well, I didn't know about the nickname until recently," you answered honestly.
"Oh, so not a good nickname, I guess," he said as he pushed open the door to the offices. "I like it though. It matches you," he said, opening the door to his office.
You stopped in your tracks. It was disgusting. Absolutely filthy. It looked like someone let a bird and cat in here and let them chase each other. You look around, trying to find a place to start. All your options came back as none. Nada, nothing. Zero.
"You can start over there with the boxes. All you need to do is file them into the filing cabinet," he smiled. You just looked at him in horror.
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After many hours of laughing, stories of Father Parker's and Father O'Hara's past, and lots and lots of cleaning, you had gotten the office to where you can see the floor, and desk and be able to walk from the door to the window. Now, you're slouched in his office chair, listening to him go on about his glory days in high school. Your back was screaming but you enjoyed his company and can't technically leave until he dismisses you.
"And that's how me and Miguel broke into the abandoned hospital and I scared him so bad he didn't talk to me for a week," he finished. He sees your eyes struggle to stay open. He looks up at the clock and sees it's about midnight. "Oh, I'm so sorry, you're dismissed. Sometimes I forget that you can't tell me to shut up so you can leave." you stand to your feet and limp to the door. "But thank you. I do enjoy having someone to help me clean and listen to me ramble about my past life. I appreciate it," he puts his hand on your lower back. "Have a good night, Sister."
"Thank you and I'm always willing to help again. Good night Father Parker," you said as you sleepily walked down the hallway to the door. He watches to make sure you can walk, but once you make it to the door he retreats into his office.
You walk in the silence of a sleeping abbey. The halls were only illuminated by the moon. You fought to keep your eyes open. Your back trying to not give out before you make it to your room. The threat of passing out is heavy on your mind.
Father O'Hara's name ringing in your ears. Miguel O'Hara. sisters weren't supposed to know the Fathers' first names. Father Parker gave up on trying to not say his first name about twenty minutes into talking.
You shuffled down the hall with the sisters' rooms. Once at your door, you threw yourself against it and made your way to your closet. you took off your habit and made your way to your window to close it. You looked out to the street below.
You see a figure walking below. It was a large man. You chuckle at the thought that it might be Father O'Hara. Until he turned to look back to see if anyone was around. You saw his face. It was him. but you were too tired to care and turned to your bed.
Summary: In the peaceful Abbey library, you cherish your role among the books, despite being teased with the nickname "Church Mouse." Your routine is interrupted when you accidentally bump into Father O'Hara, who asks for your help with a spring exhibition on Easter. Although embarrassed, you're pleased to assist him with his project.
Pairing: Priest!Vampire!Miguel O'Hara/Nun!reader
Warnings: inappropriate touching, Use of catholic rights, practices and rituals, no use of Y/N, and AU use. There's technically no smut in this chapter but there will be in other chapters so MDNI please...
a/n: the research i had to do for this story... what will i ever use this information for in the future...
The Abbey was quiet this morning. Most of the Sisters were attending to their duties or finishing their prayers. You sat in the large bay window in the common area. The window was opened to let the cheery spring breeze fill the Abbey's halls. You took a deep breath, smelling the early blooming flowers. The Abbey's copy of Madame Bovary sat in your lap, long forgotten in favor of watching the trees sway and the people running along the street. Two of the Sisters are walking by, whispering and giggling. You look up with a smile to say hello, but they quickly turn away and return to hushed tones. You look down at the book as your smile fades. You lurch forward from your resting spot in the window and make your way to the library.
You walked to the library, where your duties were. You loved the library. The quiet atmosphere made you feel as if you finally had a place in the world. You had always been known as the quiet kid. That sentiment continued into maturity, and even in the Abbey, the one place you thought the world's snide comments would be left outside. But here you are, still the quiet child being teased with names. Church Mouse was the popular one among the sisters. Whenever you would say hello to the sisters, the nicer ones would reply but not with the usual hello, sister. No, it was hello, church mouse.
You set your book on the counter and picked up a stack of returned books. The Abbey's library is about the size of a local library. Nothing as big or grand as the Admont's library, but it was comfortable. Your area. Your safe space. You walk through the tall shelves and place the missing books back into their homes. You brushed your fingertips across the spines of the old books. You find it easy to lose yourself in those moments. The quiet atmosphere, and if you close your eyes long enough, you fall into a void filled with the world's stories. You take a deep breath, and with a bounce in your step, you walk through the walls of books. A small smile ghosted your lips as you enjoyed the mundane tasks the church gave you.
You were too enveloped in your thoughts to remember that the library is open to anyone in the church. You dragged Your hands across the books until you ran head-on into someone. You hear a few snickers; then they quickly cease, though being replaced with whispers. You looked up to find his dark curls. You blinked, silently praying You didn't run straight into Father O'Hara.
"Hello, Sister," His voice rang out above you. You quickly backed away and began apologizing profusely. Your head hangs low as a hand gently places itself on top of your shoulder.
You look up, and he's smiling. Your heart was pounding in your chest. You try to reason with yourself to calm down by telling yourself there's no canon law saying a Sister can't bump into a Father. God wouldn't punish me for an accident, right?
"I also find yourself getting lost in literature," His low chuckle reverberates against the shelves. His hand removes itself from your shoulder, leaving you to shiver at the sudden coldness of the library. He picks up a book, and he looks back at you. "Can you do me a favor, Sister?"
"Yes, Father O'Hara," you look up at him, waiting for a response. He chuckles at your formality and hands you the book. You look at the worn cover and make out some of the words—something about rituals the church does around the Easter season.
"I'm in the middle of a research project and will be checking out a few books," He continues, walking down the rows. "The local museum wants us to have a small exhibition for the spring," he smiles to himself. He picks up a few more books and adds them to the pile growing in your arms.
"What are some of your ideas for this display?" you whispered. Half because you’re in a library and half because you fear if you were to breathe, the books would fall out of your hands. He kept walking away, and you weren't sure if Father O'Hara had heard you, but you followed anyway, waiting for a response.
"Easter," his answer was short as he scanned the shelves for a specific title. You could have put that together. You glared at the floor. "Do you know if another Father has taken 'The History of the Church's Canonization of Lent'?" He squatted down to look at the lower shelves. "I figured if the exhibit was during the spring, it should be on Lent and the history of it. Plus, if families go and see it, maybe they'll go to mass." He says, not taking his eyes off the books.
"Umm, I can check the record, but if it's not on the shelf or someone didn't take it, then you'll have to look around to see if someone left it on the table. I wish people would put the book back where they go when they're done. It makes your job so much easier, not that this job is hard or that I wouldn't say I like it. I love working here," You look up at him after finishing your ramble.
"Please, Sister, and you can leave those up at the desk. I still have more to grab, and I don't think you can carry anymore," He lets out a low chuckle.
You slightly bow, trying not to let the books tumble out of your arms, and walk over to the circulation desk. Another Sister is chatting with a couple of other Sisters. You slightly bow to them as you drop off the book and pull out the father's "check out book." Technically, the library isn't a library; it's a collection, and therefore, the only people who can "check out" books are the fathers who are staying in the Abbey. There's only a tiny section of worldly books. Most of the Sisters overlook them because Abbess Drew is against it, but you eat up those stories. The majority of the collection is old philosophy and theology books. Nothing with plot as you refer to them.
You flip open to the newest page, scanning for the title. You hear a few more books being placed next to you. "Any luck?" Father O'Hara asks, leaning over the counter. You feel his breath on your cheeks.
"None," you looked up to find his nose inches from yours. "umm," your face gets hot, "See if Father Parker has it over at his table," you smile, your arm stretching out past him to point at a mountain of books on a table.
His eyebrows lifted as if you reminded him of something. He pushes himself off of the desk and walks over to a table that Father Parker typically sits at. He pushes the books around till he picks one up and twists around, showing you. You smile and look down at the notebook. You began scribbling down the ten titles he had grabbed. You wrote his name down and just stared into the paper. You hear him walk back up, but your eyes burn holes in his name.
"Sister?" I looked up.
"Oh, how long are you in need of these?" you paused. "Father O'Hara." you quickly added afterward.
"Let's say two weeks," he smiled. "Maybe more, but I will come and tell you when the deadline is approaching," he smiles as you hand him the slip. You really don't need to write the father's reminders, but after Father Parker left his books in his room for months, Abbess Drew suggested the Sisters in the library gently remind the fathers that the books are for everyone. He slides the books off the desk and into his arms. He does it with such ease. It makes you wonder why he had asked for help collecting the books. "When the exhibit is set up, you should go see it," he suggests and heads for the door.
"Father O'Hara," You whisper-shouted. He turns to look at you. "Would you like help with the door?" you ask.
"Oh please," you walked over in front of him to pull open the door. He says his thanks and begins his track back to his office. You watch him walk away, watching how he can carry all the books in one arm like they weighed nothing.
He stops in the middle of the hallway. He looks up, then turns around. "Did you forget something, Father?"
"No, no, I've got everything." he paused. "Would you be a dear and follow me to my office?" your face heated up. It's unusual for sisters to go to the fathers' offices unless assigned to them. Which again is rare. Only the older fathers get a sister assigned to them. "There's quite a bit of doors from here to my office, and it would be a great deal of help if you opened them for me," he states with a tinge of wanting.
"Umm, yeah, I could do that. Sister Stacy is at the counter, so I won't have to lock up the library," you walked up to his side. You watched your feet as we walked down the corridors of the Abbey. You let your mind become silent as you listen to the rhythmic tapping of your shoes.
"How long have you been at the Abbey, Sister?" his low voice startled you. You nearly jumped out of your skin. He chuckled at your reaction.
"Five years," you practically whispered. your heart was still beating out of your chest from your near heart attack.
"How has your time been?" he asked with genuine interest. You quicken your pace to open the door ahead of you. He turns down the hallway and waits for your response.
"The Lord works in his own ways," you stated as you caught back up to him. He barks a laugh, which causes you to look at him with wide eyes.
"Well, that's an interesting way of putting it," he calms down his laugh. "the Lord works in his own way," he repeats. "Is that your way of saying it's not going how you like?" he looks down at you.
"Well, the other Sisters don't talk to me, but I love the library, and the gardens are wonderful," you smile up at him. He hums in response and turns his attention to the window. You mirror his actions and look at the wall. You tried to conjure up a question to keep the friendly energy going. "I know you were here before I vowed; how much has it changed?" You asked.
"Oh, you think I'm as old as this place?" He said, "You must think I practically built the place yourself. Oh, I must have known the father, whose name this abbey is named after," he put his free hand to his head. He turns a corner, and you’re met with another door. You hold it open for him.
"Oh no, Father, I'm sorry," he chuckles once more. You stare at the ground, thinking you might have offended Father O'Hara. you fall behind him while another father walks by. They exchange hellos, and he continues down the long hallway.
"I started about," he paused to think. "Eight. No, nine years. This December will be 10," he sighs.
"Is it what you expected, Father O'Hara?" You asked, looking out the window. Some of the Sisters are working on the garden. You didn't realize how bold of a question you asked was. you stayed oblivious until you noticed he hadn't said anything. You looked up at him, and he looked deep in thought.
"the Lord works in his ways," you glared at him for using your, honestly, blasphemous phase, "a wise woman told me that," he smiled at you, "And it perfectly describes life here. We will all have days where we feel as if God is leading others to greater things while leaving us behind, but we rejoice when he gives us opportunities. You think we should rejoice for all the gifts God bestowed upon everyone, not just ourselves. And you think that is what's wrong with this place," he stops his small sermon as you open the door.
You follow him as he quickly makes his way down the hall. You looked around, and it just seemed like other offices. You saw older fathers working quietly. Some doors were shut, which meant they were in a meeting or were away. You looked back at Father O'Hara.
"What do you mean, Father?" you rounded a counter that led to his office. He continues to his door and stops.
"The Sisters have formed cliques and only rejoice when they are given opportunities from God," he answers. "They cannot see the joy when others are given great opportunities for our Lord. Please open my door, Sister." He says in a stern, demanding tone. You look down and open his door, stepping aside so he can walk in. You wait till I’m dismissed.
You hear him set down the books on the desk. You peer in to look at his office. It's neat, well neater than some of the Bishops' offices. He has paperwork for events or ideas for upcoming meetings. The walls are the same beige the whole Abbey is painted in. There's artwork hanging on the walls and a wooden closet. You knew his vestments were probably hanging in there. A beautiful tapestry of the Last Supper hung behind his desk. You studied each section; You noticed some places you could see the threads while some just the colors to show the image.
He sits down at his desk and looks around. He sees you peering in. "Would you like to come in?" He smiled at your astonished face. You stood in the doorway, trying to figure out what to say. It would be nice to sit and help Father O'Hara set up for his project, but Abbess Drew would scold you for not doing your duties. You stare at him while he waits for an answer.
"I-" you start. you have no idea how to finish. you just close your mouth and look at him. His eyebrows arched, and his brown eyes stared into your soul. your eyes dart to the floor and hope he gets the point.
"Oh, you're waiting to be dismissed," he quickly says. He stands from his chair and walks over to you. "Before I let you go, would you like to help me with this project? Whenever I begin a project, I tend to forget my other duties, and besides it's nice to have someone around. Would you mind?" He is close to you. you can smell his cologne, which you noted as weird. you thought priests couldn't wear cologne. His scent was quite lovely— Warm scents like cinnamon and sandalwood.
"I would love to help Father," you bowed. His scent encases you. His warmth radiates towards you.
"I will talk to Sister Drew about changing your duties to my assistant," he smiles and puts his hand on your shoulder. you stand straight, and he lets his hand slide off your shoulder and down your arm. He turns back to his desk. "you're dismissed, Sister. I will see you soon."
"Have a good night, father." you said and made your way back to the library.
⋆༺♱༻⋆ ⋆༺♱༻⋆ ⋆༺♱༻⋆ ⋆༺♱༻⋆ ⋆༺♱༻⋆ ⋆༺♱༻⋆ ⋆༺♱༻⋆ ⋆༺♱༻⋆
Later that night, you sat on your bed, unable to fall asleep. you looked out the window and stared at the street lights. you wrapped yourself in your blanket as an early spring breeze came through the window. you knew that if you were to sneak out and go to the library, Abbess Drew would somehow find out, and you'd never hear the end of it. you sit by your window and wonder about why you cannot sleep.
Another breeze comes rushing in, and you close your eyes to soak up the fresh air. you take a deep breath, and the notes of cardamom and cedar fill your senses. your face warms up as you remember how close Father O'Hara was today. you replay the day and try to remember how all of it started, and you are instantly filled with embarrassment. you brought the blanket closer and wondered if you really had run straight into him and if he really did ask you to help or if he was really to ask you to walk with him. If you remember, he was supposed to ask Abbess Drew if you could be temporarily moved to him while he worked on the project.
you didn't understand why you were reacting like that. Sisters usually help Fathers with their work. Normally, it's more running into town or setting up for events, not helping with active projects.
"We should be rejoicing for all opportunities God gives everyone," his voice ran out in your head. you relaxed and prayed to God that you were thankful for this opportunity he gave you. After that, you slowly drifted into sleep.
"Sister," a voice rang out. It's dark. you can't tell where you were. Who is talking?
"Yes," you answered. The shakiness in your voice is prominent. you hoped the voice didn't notice the quiver in your voice. you stretched out your arms to feel anything.
"Come here," The voice told you.
you felt your way around the room. your hand ran along a wooden desk, and then your legs were stopped by something. A hand gently settles on the back of your knee. The hand travels up your thigh and around the curve of your ass. you gasped a little when the hand lingered on your ass. you hear a low chuckle, and then the hand continues up your hip. The hand pulls you forward. your legs are pulled against something, and you cannot move; you end up falling forward. you're met with a chest. Another hand comes to rest on your cheek.
"It's alright, Sister. You’re safe. You're with me," The voice vibrated in your chest, and the smell of vanilla and cinnamon filled your nose.
"Father O'Hara?" you asked.
The voice laughed and pulled you closer. "I knew you were smart."
you sit up in bed and look around—a small film of sweat forms on your skin. It was early morning, still dark, but you could hear the birds. your feet dangle a few inches from the ground. your eyes are still closed. you scrunch your nose in anticipation of the cold floor. As you brush the sleep from your eyes, you walk to the window. your armoire looming oak doors stare down at you.
you swung open the old wooden doors. you shuffled through the clothes to find your tunic. The rough fabric in your palm reminds you of something the previous Abbess said to you before you vowed. Coarse material softens only after years of use. you slip your arms through the sleeves and button up the front. your breathing was uneven and hasty. A chill running up your spine makes you glance behind your back. Only to find a small bird in the tree. you give it a small smile and wave before turning back to your clothes.
you slide your hair to the side as you pick up your crucifix. The cold metal sending goosebumps down your neck. you glance down at your cincture. your fingers slide down the cord, feeling each knot. A remembrance of your vows. you tie it around your waist. The sliver of the rosary shines in the early morning light. you held the cross in your hands. your fingers trace the design. you wish you could remember how you got your rosary. All you could remember was it shining in the moonlight on your first night after your vows. It had been placed on the windowsill. The beads were a beautiful pale green. you let the rosary fall through your hands. A whisper of a smile formed when you noticed a few beads were chipped. Even Beautiful things have flaws.
you walked over to your table and picked up a brush. you slicked back your hair, but in your tired daze, you missed a few baby hairs. you put on your wimple and groaned. It was too warm to keep on all day. you grumbled about how much it irritated your cheeks and all the sweat would collect on your chest. Putting aside your discomfort, you shimmed the neck-piece around to find the most comfortable place for it.
you looked on the floor for your cap. It wasn't next to your table. you stood to see if you had tossed it into your closet last night. The bright white fabric is piled on the bottom of your armoire. you examine the piece for wrinkles. your Old Abbess's voice rang out in your head. you mumbled about how it was one time you let your cap wrinkle. you pick up the thick material and walk back to your seat. your cap slid perfectly into place, and then you skillfully added pins to ensure the cap would not slip off and to make sure your hair wasn't being tugged. you grab the light cotton of your veil. you pin it into place, making sure you can still move your head.
Once dressed, you made your way to the kitchen, where you found a familiar face sitting at a table. you studied how his fingers laced around the book. you noticed how effortlessly comfortable he looked. you liked how the sun seemed to favor his cheekbones and how it sprinkled a hint of red into his hair.
"Good morning, Father O'Hara," you walked past him. He lifted his head and smiled at your leaving body.
"It's a fine morning, isn't it, Sister?" His voice was cheerful enough. you forced your smile down.
"Indeed, Father," you said with your back turned to him. you searched the kitchen for some fruit to start your day. you noticed it was too early for the other sisters to have started making breakfast for the convent. you gathered a handful of strawberries, a banana, and some other fruits from the fridge. you looked down at your harvest and glanced around the counter for a bowl. Your search led you to one of the tall cabinets near the sink.
Of course, they were on the top shelf. you walked over to the shelf and stood on your toes. you stretched harder to at least hook your finger around one of them. Once you felt a grasp, you relaxed, hoping gravity and your hand-eye coordination would do the rest. you took a breath preparing for the bowl to land in your hands. Suddenly, a chill blew past you and you felt a body behind you. you blinked wondering what happened.
His arms consume your peripheral vision. The sudden presents made you cringe and try to back away since you knew the bowls would come tumbling down. Instead, you were greeted with a body pressing you further into the counter.
A large hand trapped you by steadying his balance on the counter. He brings the bowl down and wraps his arm around you to hand it to you. His breath on your ear, his scent covering you, and his chest itching to become a part of you; make your breath hitch. He lets out a chuckle. you feel his chest reverberate against your back.
His presence moves, and suddenly, you can breathe. "Sorry, Sister, you looked like you were having trouble," he says, backing away from you.
"Thank you, Father O'Hara," you said coldly on accident; you were still completely in shock. you turned to make your breakfast as other Sisters started filing in to make the abbey breakfast. you wash the fruit in the sink, feeling his eyes burn holes into your back. you became stiff. you avoided looking at him, in fear you'd make eye contact and he would see how much his actions affected you.
you put all the fruit into the bowl and made your way to the window overlooking the garden to eat. you walked quickly, B-lining to the window. your eyes are glued on the large window and the worn-out cushions. Right before you can sit down, a hand grabs your upper arm. you were whipped towards the hand's owner.
His brown eyes searched yours for any signs of fear. His grip released you, and his hand came up to your face. "Father," you whispered. He tucks a piece of hair back into your veil. He turns away. "Thank you," you said.
"I'll be talking to Sister Drew this morning. I hope to see you later for your help," he smiles and heads back to the kitchen.
idk if people who have made asks for me can see this. but this account is beyond dead and I don't plan on using it anymore. sorry to disappoint but I literally haven't written anything like this in years and I'm too swamped with life to sit down and write something. i don't plan on deleted the account because what's the point.
You walked into the library hoping to find Tenya. You weave in between the bookcases. You swung around the ends catching the private study areas. No Iida. You walk over to the tables to see him with serval books open, a notebook and his laptop open. He was rubbing his eyes with his glasses on the table. You walked quietly behind him as you snake your arms around his shoulders. He tenses up for a spilt second then relaxes when he knows its you.
“Y/n, I’m super stressed right now, please,” he sighed putting his glasses back on.
“Ok,” you said moving away from him. You pull out the seat across from him.
“I’m serious y/n,” he huffed. “I don’t want to deal with you right now,”
“I’m hurt, my own boyfriend doesn’t want me around,” you whine. you stretch out your arms to push his papers. his hand smacks down on top of yours. “ow, tenya!” you yell
“shhh, y/n,” he whisper yells. you puff out your checks and glare at him as he continues to work. you pull out your phone and scroll around on social media. you pass a video of someone falling on ice. you giggle and turn the phone to show iida. he just glares at you.
“your a kill joy,” you huff.
“y/n, i’m busy, please just go hang out with mina or someone,” he looks up at you.
“she’s busy,” you sit up, “i want to hang out with my wonderful boyfriend, TENYA IIDA, but it seems like i found his shitty twin brother,” you get up and storm out of the library.
you walk angrily back to the dorms. you got to your door and slammed your head on it. you sighed and pushed it open. with a slam of the door you walked to you bed and flopped down.
“asshole,” you sighed. a tear falls down your cheek. you wiped it away. You turn over onto your side and hug your pillow. You love Tenya, but some times got too focused on his work. you loved that when he started a project he would finish it. You loved that he was a great leader. That he took control but could also be tender and gentle.
You hear a soft knock on your door. You call out that it’s open and Tenya steps through the doorway. He quietly shut your door as he slips off his shoes. His feet hit the floor with a soft patter as he walks over to you. you don’t move to look at him and you never greeted him when you noticed its was him.
You moved closer to the wall and tucked more into the bed. You didn’t want to deal with him. the bed dips when he crawls in. You ignore his sweet kisses on your cheek. He brings himself closer to you. His arms wrap around your waist and he moves you closer to his chest.
“You’re an asshole when you focus too hard,” you grumble.
“I know, I’m sorry, y/n,” he whispers into your hair.
Hey uh- first time doing these but could I get a //yes I know this is a rare one but stay with me here\\ present mic or Midnight one? I feel like they don’t get as much love <:( Putting that aside I really like your stuff! <3 I hope you have the best of your remaining Day/Night
summary: hizashi texts you about a headache and asks if you have anything for it. he comes to your classroom and you accidentally gave him the wrong pills.
warnings: nsfw, edging, denial, femdom, handjob, post cum torture and overstimulation.
wc: 2k
“this headache is killing me,” hizashi whines. he leans against your arm as you dig through you purse. you find a baggy of pills in one of the pockets. you grab one of the little orange pills and handed it to him. he pops it into his mouth then swallows harshly.
“you’re a life saver y/n,” you shoo him away. he rolls his eyes and walks away. you watch as his blonde hair sways as he walks. you smile to yourself and make your way to your own class.
you sit at your large desk as the students leave for the night. you looked over at the pile of papers you have to grade. you groan and slide the pile closer. you go through and check for the correct answers before figuring out what the total they got right was. you finished off with a percent written at the top.
your phone vibrates in your desk. you slide open the drawer. you look at the name. ashi. you give your phone a curious look. you tap in your passcode as his message glares out from the screen.
you grab your purse with a slam on the desk. you search of the bag. you look at the pills. they look like drug store Ibuprofen. you look closer at the pills.
“shit,” you yell. you had put the rae “in the mood” pills in your bag to give to nemuri, but you completely forgot about it. honestly you have no idea why she wanted them but it’s better if you didn’t think too much about it.
you quickly texted hizashi back that you had accidentally gave him women sex pills instead of ibuprofen, with a little smile face. the little read receipt came up but no answer.
the little read message appeared.
you stared down at your phone. you waited for him to answer. you tried not to laugh at the fact that he could be somewhere in the school all hot and bothered. you think about how he’s probably in the teachers lounge trying not to think about how tight his pants are or even better he’s in a closet trying to... relieve himself.
suddenly your door flys open. hizashi is breathing heavy. his dripping in sweat. he’s not in this normal outfit but instead wearing dark jeans and a black t shirt. his hair styled in a high ponytail. he looks down at the ground while he catches his breath.
“you,” his voice is raspy. his hand falls from the door. he looks up at you. “you... you gave me a horny pill!!” he yells.
“it’s was an accident,” you laugh.
“ARE YOU LAUGHING!!” he yells and walks to your desk.
you lean forward in your seat. letting your low top show off your beautiful chest. he stops at the first row of desks. “yes, it’s really funny,” you smirk at him.
“you take one then,” he crosses his arms.
you place your hands on the desk and slowly stand up. the chair rolling away from you. you drag your index finger cross your desk as you walk around to the front of it. you lean against the front as you cross your arms.
he looks at you. he licks his lips. he takes a step towards you. you just hold out your hand to stop him. he stops dead in his tracks. You look at his quivering form. His blonde hair was relaxed and up in a ponytail. Sweat fell down along his flushed skin. His chest rises and falls as his shirt starts to stick to his chest.
His eyes couldn’t focus on one part of you. His gaze started at your eyes and fell to your lips then it traces your jaw and to your chin. He swallows harshly as his eyes admire your collarbones. His pupils were blown as they flicked down your shirt. He bites his lip as he finished his journey down your body. The tight pencil shirt was the last thing he admired before walking up to you again.
His breathing was labored as his hands wrapped around your waist. His warm breath hitting your face. He looked down at your devilish grin. Your hand slides ever so slowly under his shirt. His stomach tightens at your cold touch. His body is fiery hot as you lightly brush your fingers across his broad chest.
He pulls you closer to him as his fingers graze his sensitive nipples. His eyes slam close and his mouth clamp shut. With your other hand, you cup his face. He leans into your hand. You smile and pinch his nipple in between your fingers. He inhales sharply, trying not to moan. You place a kiss on his cheek. Then you lean into his ear, your breath sending shivers down his back.
You chuckle at his reaction and pull away from him. His grip around you waist tightens and he gives you a pleading look.you push his hands away from your body as you slide from in between him and the desk. he watches you walk away.
you push your chair to the end of the desk and tell him to sit. he quickly does as he’s told and sits down patiently waiting for your next move.
“undo them,” you point at his jeans. he quickly undoes his belt then unbuttons them. the sound of his pants unzipping makes your stomach tighten. you close your eyes and steady your breathing, trying to hide your excitement.
the bulge in his boxers sat in between the top of the jeans. you walked in front of him and stank to your knees. you pull his belt out from the loops. he looks down at you in confusion.
you pull the belt through the clasp and back through creating two loops. you grab his hands and put them into the loops and pulled tight then securing it.
you stood up and peered down at his excited body. his face sweetly and red. his hair stuck his forehead and his hand tied together on his lap.
you put your hands on the armrest of the chair and leaned forward. you smiled at him and he did his best to smile back. you leaned in closer and planted a soft kiss on his lips. he practically melted in seconds and feverishly wanted more when you pulled away.
your hand played with the hem of his boxers. his holds back a moan cause by the friction of the boxers moving. He face is deep red and sweat rolls down his face. His eyes give you a pitiful look as your hand slips into his boxers.
hizashi’s head rolls back against the chair. You swear his lip was about to bleed from him bitting down on it. You stare down at his hot and bothered state. A devilish grin forms on your face as your index finger slides along the underside of his sensitive member. His breathing becomes a small whine as his eyes tighten shut.
“Come on, ashi,” you lean down and whisper into his ear. He shutters at your breath hitting his ear. “I want to hear you pretty little whines.” He slowly shakes his head no. your finger traces his red hot tip. “What? You don’t want to show me how good I make you feel?” You sighed. You slid you hand out of boxers
You walked to the door to leave until Hizashi yelled out, “please y/n,”
You stand next to the door, “please what?” You ask.
“Please, help me, y’n,” he mumbles.
“What was that?” You ask, bringing your hand to your ear, “I don’t I heard you clearly. Can you speak up hun?”
“Y/n, can you please help me fix the problem you started?” He yelled.
You lock the door and walked back to him. “Do you still have a headache?” You ask.
“Huh?” He looks at you.
“Do you still have a headache?”
“No,” he answers with hesitation.
“Then I fixed the problem you came it me for,” you smile and sit on the desk.
“Y/n, please, I need you,” he begs.
You bring your hand to his head and creased his hair. He closes his eyes. You grab a fist full of his hair and pulled him closer to your face. the expression on his face only begged for mercy. You bring your lips to his. His hands reach up to legs. His finger tips grazing the skin underneath your skirt. Your free hand smacking them away.
You got off the desk and let go of hizashi’s blond hair. You sink in-between his knees. You pull out his dick as it’s covered in pre cum, probably has a wet spot on his boxers. You let your hand slide up and down on his bursting cock. You look up at his face as it twists in pleasure at the touch he had been begging for. You pump up and down fast to see his eyes close tighter. He bits his lip harder with each stroke.
You rub his tip around your palm while cupping his tip. You let out a few moans to tease him and to get him even more riled up. His jaw clenches at the sound. You smile and go back to stroking his whole member. His hips slowly rise and fall with your strokes. You quicken your pace and his mouth loosens and drops open. He lets out a high pitch whine.
You quicken to keep him moaning. His hands grip the chair and you bring your hand down then up as you release him from your grip. He pants and whines for more.
You grab his throbbing dick one more time and started at the pace you ended. His stomach clenched up as you hand pleasured him. His face twists with quiet moans. You look up at him to see his mouth wide open and his eyes looking at you down through his lashes. You smile and stroke him one more time with you ending with releasing him once again.
his mouth closes and turn into a scowl. “Please y/n,” hizashi mumbled. You smiled up at him.
“You’re soooo needy. Fine since you asked nicely,” you rolled your eyes and grab his dick once again. You pumped in slower his time. He whines and juts his hips to make you quicken the pace. His body twitches under your touch. You quicken your pace and focused most of your strokes on the tip. The squishing sound of his pre cum between your fingers and his cock fuel his pleasure. A whiny moan escapes his lips as too tease him more you moan along with him.
he bucks his hips against your wrist. You smile devilishly at him and release him once again this time with instant protest.
“Y/N!! PLEASE,” he whines like a child, who’s begging for a toy. His grip on the chair tightens as he glares down at your grin.
“Oh but I just love hearing you moan,” your hand slips up his shirt as you trace his abs. He shivers at your touch. You lean in to kiss his hip to tease the poor man even more, but he stops you. His hand is now pushing against your forehead. “Oh, I didn’t know my needy little boy had guts,” you sneer. “I guess you don’t want my help then,” you start to stand up but his hand grips your wrist.
“Y/n, now!” He yells. You obliged and kneed back down. You take his cock into your hands once again and began pumping it. He rolls his head back and signs. You bring your other hand up. You start pumping him with both hands. A smile forms on his bight red face as you stroke his whole member, not leaving one inch untouched. He begins to moan again and his hips start bucking up.
You remove one of your hands but still stroking him with the other. He bucked up his hip and you would stop moving your hands to let him cum but nothing. So you continued to pump him. His mouth was opened as silent moans were coming out. His eyes stayed shut as you pleasured him. He bucked his hips once again and you stopped for a brief second then continued.
You quicken the pace as hizashi closes his legs. Breathy moans escapes his lips. You stroke his throbbing dick. You moan with him as his hand turn white from gripping the chair. He arcs his back to cum but you press just below his tip blocking him from cumming.
you hold his tip till he comes down from his high then you instantly start jacking him off again. His moans are weak and high pitched. Your hand slides with ease up and down his red cock.
“Y/n I’m cumming, I’m cumming,” he moans out.
You pinch his tip once again. You watch the underside of his dock twitch. He moans over and over again. You look up at him as his eyes lazy watch you. His pupils blown and his face his beat red. You wait till his twitching stops. You look up at him again.
“Ready,” you whisper.
You release his tip and his cum splatter all over his black shirt. You wrap your hands back around his sensitive member and begin stroking it once again.
hizashi moans again and begs you to stop. His breathing his heavy and his body is still twitch from his previous ejaculation. He grips onto the chair and whines. He squirms every time you move your hands.
“Please y/n stop,” you release him.
“First your begging me to touch you then your begging for me to stop,” you stand up and look down at him. “What do you want from me?” You smile and walk to the door. You were ready to go home and sleep.
Once you reach the door, you felt breath going down your neck. His hands grab yours. “I’m still horny. By the time I get home I’ll need you again,”
sorry for the small break. idk if i’ll go back to the same upload schedule but i’m definitely gonna be posting more fics.
i’m gonna finish up all the requests i got then i’ll open them up again and i’ll be posting others i’ve written mixed in. i think i have a sukuna fic coming and another iida one on the way.
summary: aizawa is a PI looking a missing person. he notices a young women looking around the places the missing person was last seen. he starts following her.
warnings: nsfw, eating out, brat/tamer, unprotected sex, and overstimulation.
wc: 5k
He sat inside his car. He would never the noticed the nasty smell of rotting food and his own body order. Old coffee cups, fast food wrapping and Chinese take out littered his passenger seat. He sat deep into the seat with a camera to his face.
He took pictures of a 19 year old girl, walking down the street. See that sounds weird but Aizawa Shouta is the best PI in the lower boroughs. His greasy hair is always tied up and his scuff leaves unshaved until he found it annoyingly long. He never seemed to smile. He always working on some case and buried himself his work.
This case was a missing college junior. Her black hair and deep brown eyes are plastered all over the city. The host parents contacted him after the police said it was likely she was dead. he never liked the police, that’s why he never became one after high school.
He clicked a few more photos of the girl before exiting his car to follow her. Her hair bounced as she walked down the busy street. She had been visiting the last places the missing girl was at. A small cafe, an old bodega, a drug store, and a bookstore. She had been down here five times in the last three weeks. She ordered the same green tea and walked to the other places. Aizawa figured out her name is y/n l/n. she’s a student at the local college. Art major. She had some pretty good pieces in the local art show last year.
He followed her into the cafe. She ordered her tea and walked to the other end of the cafe. She pulls out her phone and scans the cafe. Her deep e/c set on his. She smiled and went back to her phone.
“Black coffee,” his deep, raspy voice rang out. His eye contact never leaving the young woman’s figure. He soaked in every inch of soft small body. Her eyes darted over the screen.
“She’s pretty, right?” The young kid on the other side of the counter said. This snapped Aizawa out of his daze. “She’s been coming here more often. I hope she’s single,” the kid laughs, looking at the young woman. “$3.50”
He gave the kid a five and walked over to the other side. Her tea was done and she thanked the worker and walked out the cafe. His coffee was done a few seconds later. He didn’t want to lose her so he swiftly walked out as she quickly turns around and runs square into his chest. Her hair smelt like vanilla and it was softer than what he imagined. She backs up and apologizes profusely. She asked to buy him a new drink and grabbed napkins to clean off the tea and coffee.
“It’s fine, I need to shower anyways,” he jokes. She looks at him not laughing. after awhile of silence, she checked her watch.
“Shit, I’m late, I’m so sorry again,” and with that she was off.
Aiwaza climbed back in his nasty car and drive. She doesn’t know anything. It’s just a coincidence. He went to a small diner on the outskirts of the city.It was an old ma and pop diner with the old red paint and faded sign saying “jersey’s.” The ring above the door rang to announce the new arrivals. He sat in the old booth by the front windows. A woman in a yellow dress uniform walks over.
“Good morning, Shouta,” the young woman’s voice rang. He smiled and looked at her. “The usual?”
“Good morning Anne, yes, Ricky in the back?” He asked.
“Sure is. we were just joking that we were gonna put a ‘Shouta Special’ on the menu,” she laughed, scribbling down his name. Ricky knew what that meant. Black coffee, eggs, hash and hot sauce.
“Ha, no one wants what I eat,” he laughed as Anne walked into the back. Aizawa pulls out a notebook and a case file. He flips open his notes to scribble off Y/n’s name.
The pencil hovered over the beautiful name. Something about her perfect hair and shining eyes that put a weird feeling in his chest. She feels familiar to him yet also new. He had felt this before but never this intense.
There are never coincidences in this line of work.
He looked over his papers and shoved the food into his mouth. Anne sat down in the other booth. She liked watching him and today was slow and the other waitress said she needs the tips.
“So Shouta, tell me about this one,” she said.
“Missing person,” he mumbled scanning over the papers. His face stayed in a scowl and his eyes were dull until he thought he found a clue.
“Sometimes it helps thinking out loud,” Anne said, pulling the papers out of his face.
“Saito Yui, she’s a college student. Straight A’s. Pre-med. She’s top of her class. Barely parties. No boyfriend. But she misses Saturday brunch with her family. Then misses a hang-out with her friend, then classes on Monday. Police say she left. There’s no evidence that she was taken. No enemies. No stalkers and she never got on any one’s bad side,” he says. “There’s this girl though. She’s been in all the spots that Yui was before she went missing,”
“Do you think she knows something?” Anne asked, leaning in.
He pulls out his camera. He clicks through the photos and turned it to her. She took the camera in her hands. she looked at it with focus. Like she was trying to read her.
“I hope she’s innocent,” Anne finally said, handing the camera back. Aiwaza looked at her puzzlingly. “She pretty and has a lot to live for.” Anne always knew what to say, even if it wasn’t correct. She slides out of the booth. “See you tomorrow Shouta,” she waves and disappears into the back.
He looked back at his notes. The only connection between Yui and y/n was that they had a class together on Thursdays. Intro to sociology. He decided he would go and sit outside the class and wait for her to come out.
He watched the college kids walk around him. A lot of them didn’t notice him and the ones that did shot him a dirty look. The wide doors open and a young woman comes walking out out in a tennis skirt and a pull over with the college name printed on the chest. Aiwaza watched as she walked away. Her h/c bounced with each determined step. he leans off the wall and makes his way to her.
“miss l/n.” she wipes around and stares him down. her eyes held such intensity, it took aiwaza back. “i have some questions for you.” he says.
“aren’t you the guy from the cafe? are you following me?” she beginning to walk away from him. he reaches out and grabs her soft wrist.
“please it’s about yui saito,” his grip tightens as she pulls away.
“let go creep,” she spat. “i barely know the exchange student. she lived in my dorm, that’s all i know,” and she turn away.
aizawa sat on a bench and pull his head in his hands. “god i know this job is hard but i know she knows something.” he mumbled to himself. he got up and walked to his car. the young y/n was leaning against it on her phone. he walks up to her.
she looks up at him. he unlocks the car and climbs in hoping she was gonna move. she opens the passager side door. he looks at her with a questioning look.
“you’re right i know more but i wasn’t gonna tell you in the middle of my college campus,” she says with her attitude. he moves all the trash to the back seat and she jumps in. “your car reeks,” she says rolling down the window and pinching her nose.
“shut up brat.” he pulls out of the parking lot and goes to jersey’s.
“do you want to know what i know?” he glared at her. “then be nice,” the whole drive y/n was staring out the window. she watches the old victorian buildings turned small business fade into the american suburbs to a ratty diner in the middle of nowhere.
“jersey’s? never heard of it” she says sliding out of his car. she stretches her arms and heads to the door. aiwaza glares at her as she walks in and talks with anne. she shows her to his usual booth and pulls aiwaza aside.
“she’s way pretty in person,” she laughs. her tone drops to a serious one quickly, “reminds me of someone,” aiwaza knew exactly who she was talking about.
about 10 years back, he was working a case and meet a spunky accountant looking for something fun to do. she somehow became a target for some under organization and sadly she didn’t make it. but aiwaza had ready fallen in love with her. how her brown hair flowed in the wind as she always rolled down his windows. or how she always insisted that if he wasn’t going to dress professionally that she was. and she stuck to it. always wearing pencil skirts or dress slacks. aiwaza missed her but the woman sitting in front of him definitely had her attitude and curiosity on life.
he stay there and watched y/n look threw the menu. she mumbled to herself and pointed at some names. she twitches her nose and scrunches it up as read the descriptions. Anne comes over and takes her order which was just a plate of fries.
“are you sure?” anne asks. y/n just nodded. “black coffee i’m guessing?” she looks over at aiwaza.
“yeah,” he lets out. anne rushes away. “what do yo know,”
“well i was going through her stuff and i saw a necklace from this weird jewelry store downtown and it’s 100% a cult. i think they took Yui,” aiwaza sighed and leaned back.
“i know and they didn’t. i talked to them and they said they remember her buying the necklace but she didn’t join their pray list.” he rubs his eyes and looks at the woman.
her eyes looking over every inch of him. he felt his cheeks heat up a little. he pulls his hands on the table as she about the grab them anne comes with her food and his coffee.
“her host family said she didn’t seem like the type of girl to just leave without telling anybody,” he said bring the cup to his mouth.
“do you shower?” she asks in such a cheery tone. aiwaza chokes on his coffee and coughs. “maybe that’s why your not married,” she takes a fry into her mouth. “because you stink.” he hears anne laughing behind him.
“i shower and i’m not married because i don’t have time to meet anyone,” he glared at her.
“well the waitress seems to know you really well. you should ask her out,” aizawa’s cheeks gets red.
“shut up brat,” he puts down some cash and starts to get up.
“i’m sorry, please let me help you,” she asks.
“no,” he makes his way to the door.
“please! i promise i can help!” she follows him.
“no, do you need a ride back or can you walk?” he asks before getting in his car.
“yes i need ride. and i’m sorry for asking if you shower and saying you stink. please i want to help you. i’m really smart. i can help you,” she begs.
“fine,” he says driving back to the school. y/n talked the whole way about things she noticed about yui saito. like one time at a party she didn’t even drink or how she always showered super early in the morning.
“what’s your name?” she asked before getting out.
“aizawa,” he answers, staring at the students watching a young woman get out of his car. his cheeks flushed at the thought of what they were thinking.
“aizawa,” the way she says his name. silky smooth and he wished he could hear it again. “aizawa!” she yelled. he snapped to look at her.
“what brat?” she held her phone out. he took it and quickly punched in his number. He hands back the phone. She quickly sends a little hi.
“I’m guess you already know my name, but I’m y/n,” she smiles and walks away.
Aizawa drives home and flops onto his couch. He stares at the ceiling and thinks about today’s weird events. he thought about her h/c and how her eyes sparkled with curiosity. she is a smart girl. she beautiful in every sense of the word.
he didn’t even realize his hand slide down his pants. he was hard. he let his hand drift up and down the outline of his member. he thought about y/n’s voice and how she said his name. he thought about her spunky personality. his hand slips into his boxers. He closes his eyes and thinks about her small hands and pink lips. his hand moves across his hard cock. he inhales as he picks up the pace. he thinks about how soft her lips would feel against his. he thinks about if she was virgin and how tight she would be. his hand quickens. light moans escape his lips. he thinks about how she would look on her knees. he imagines her sucking him off. he clenched his jaw as his cum rolls down his knuckles.
he gets up and washed off his hands. his phone buzzes.
he rolls his eyes and opens the message.
he rolls his eyes and tosses the phone onto the table. he liked the little banters. he liked how she’s willing to speak her mind. he turns on the tv and flicks through the channels. NCIS. sure yeah not. he goes and makes himself a small dinner and sits at the table looking over the papers for the case.
‘yui didn’t seem like the girl to just leave without telling anyone,’ the host parents said. maybe she did tell someone or at least write a note. y/n said she went into her room. he wonders if she found something in there besides the necklace.
aizawa didn’t go to bed till early in the morning. so waking up and going to deal with the ever so cheery y/n was going to be a fun treat...
he threw on a tattered black t shirt and some jeans. his jet black hair pulled into a messy ponytail. the bags under his eyes could have held a weekend vacation worth of clothes. he got into the nasty car and drove to the cafe.
he saw her standing outside on her phone. her thumbs texting away. he was always so amazed at how fast teens can type. he got out and walked over to the distracted y/n.
“let’s go in,” he says in his deep raspy voice. it makes y/n jump slightly. his voice sends a shiver to the butterflies in her stomach. she follows in behind him. he orders his coffee and waits for y/n to order. he looks over his shoulder at her. his dull eyes looking into her bright ones.
“oh umm a chai tea,” she said walking closer to him. her shoulder brushes up against his. he looks down at her. her eyes dart around the cafe. she soaks in the area and walks to the pick counter.
“what did you find?” he asked while they wait for y/n’s tea.
“oh, yui used to write poems in her free time. one of them talks about a heart broken girl dropping everything and moving to colorado and starting new. she mets a wonderful man and they feel like they’re living the dream until one day he gets violent.” the guy calls out her name and she goes to get the tea. she drops her sleeve for her cup. she bends to get it, completely showing off the light blue panties. aizawa coughs and turns away. “sorry,” she says and sits down, “why is your face red?”
“nothing,” he shakes his head. “how is that a clue,” he watched as she brought the hot cup to her lips. she slowly sipped on it so she wouldn’t get burned.
“do you look at my underwear?” she laughs. “i knew you were an old creep,” his face drops into a scowl.
“shut up brat,” he said through gritted teeth.
“it’s fine, i don’t mind,” she said, scrolling through her phone, “here. i think she wrote that poem about him,” she shows him a picture of a 23 year from her school. he has his arm around yui’s hip. “that’s henry. they were seeing each other at the beginning of the semester, but one day yui comes in with a huge bruise on her arm and people asked he what is was about and she just answered with some vague thing like ‘oh i fell’ which is totally bullshit,” she takes another sip of her tea. “wanna try?”
“no i’m good,” aizawa answers. “do you think henry hurt her and she left to get away from him?” he watched as she typed something out on her phone.
“hm? yeah totally. i mean if i was getting pushed around by some frat boy i would totally disappear too,” she looks him square in the eyes. a little hue goes to aizawa’s face. “are you sure you don’t want to try it? you look like you only drink bitter sludge and gross greasy food for every meal,” she leans across the table.
“i’m serious. i’m fine with my bitter sludge,” he laughs. she smiles.
“i like it when you laugh. it’s calming,” she says. the phrase comes as a surprise to aizawa.
“aww you got a crush on an old man like me,” he says getting up. “come on kiddo.”
she gets up and follows. “maybe i do,” she whisper to herself.
“stop mumbling,” he says waiting at the door. they walk across the street to his car. “did the poem say anymore?” he asks unlock the car.
“i don’t know. i only got through a few when i texted you,” she said getting into the passenger side. she didn’t have her smile. he looks over at her. she stared out the window. her eyes didn’t have the spark of curiosity.
“what? are you mad at the joke? i’m sorry,” he said, started the car. she picks up her phone and quickly typed out a message and it sends with a bing. she rested her arm on the window and leaned her head against it. “y/n. seriously what happened? you were all jokes and laughing seconds ago.”
“it’s nothing, aiwaza.” with that he stopped asking. they drove in silence to his apartment. she followed him up the old stairs and he unlocks the green door. “cleaner than the car,” she laughs and flops herself on his couch.
“i guess make yourself at home...” he throws the keys on the table. he opens his laptop and looks up yui’s name. her twitter came up and he read through her poems.
‘even when he would yell
i would think about those mountains
how i could easily get lost in their trees.
how even if i never made it home,
the mountains would be there.
then i’m reminded
even the mountains can hurt me.’
“not the best one she’s written,” y/n says standing behind him. he’s snapped out of daze. she was leaning over his chair. her hair tickling his neck. her breath prickling his cheek. she smelt of vanilla.
“i wanna see you do better,” he sneers.
“hmm, your car smells like,” she brought her finger to her chin. “trash and you’re pretty much ash, and i think you have a rush, but your snash comments don’t bother me.” she laughs.
“haha real funny brat,” he rolls his eyes and looks about at the computer. y/n still laughing at her little poem. he reads through some more poems.
“did you ever check the ct tv camera or whatever?” she asks sitting on the couch again. “isn’t that like the first thing to do?”
“i did,”
“and?” she looks at him. he’s not looking at her. he was reading the poems and looking through pictures. y/n stands up and walks to him. she gets close to his ear and whisper “and?” his large hand covers her face and pushes her away.
“there was nothing,” he said as she scowls are her. he gives her a side glance. she was mad at him. “what?”
“you’re rude,” she huffs.
“what you wanted me to kiss you?” he laughs and looks back at the screen.
“maybe,” she mumbles.
“stop mumbling,” he says, not breaking away from the computer. “if you’re gonna say something, make sure i can hear it or else what’s the point in saying it.”
she moves to him. she yells “I SAID MAYBE YOU RUDE OLD MAN” he stops and his face goes pale. he swallows a hard lump. his heart is beating in his ears. y/n’s face gets all red. “um, sorry i’ll leave,” she starts to the door. tears fills her eyes.
aizawa gets up to stop her. he grabs her wrist. “don’t joke like that,” he pulls her close to him. “but please stay,” he wipes her tears.
“it’s not a joke,” she whispers. she looks up at him. he’s eyes soften. he kisses her forehead. she leans up to kiss him on the kiss but he moves away.
“i’m old enough to be your dad,” he goes back to the computer. she sits on the couch and goes on her phone.
“you cant be that old,” she says, breaking the silence. he doesn’t answer. he doesn’t want to ruin something as precious as her. “45?” he doesn’t answer. “50?” she gets up and sits across from him. leaning on her hands. she narrow her eyes. “23?” he looks up at her with a ‘really?’ look. “i know, i know, guess give me an answer,” she whined.
“no,” he scrolled along.
“40?” she says. still no answer. “100?” no answer. “fine i’ll look you up.” he looks at her. “aizawa... shit... what’s your first name?” she looks around for another with his name on it. she sees a pile of mail on the counter. she quickly lunges toward it. he gets up to stop her. she grabs a piece before he could stop her.
“y/n!” he yells.
“what no brat this time,” she sneers. she looks at the piece. he tries to snatch it way. she leans against the fridge. he quickly grabs it and raises it above his head with the rest of his mail. “give it back!” she yells and jumps for it.
“it’s my mail!” he laughs. she grabs his collar and stands on her tip toes. she reaches for it. he places his other hand on the fridge to keep his balance. “stop y/n! you won’t get it!”
“i’ll stop when you tell me how old you are!!” she says trying to climb him.
“stop being a brat. i’m not going to tell you how old i am,” he smiles as he watches her try to get the mail.
“make me,” she stops and looks him in the eye.
“you’re playing a dangerous game, y/n.” he puts the mail on top of the cabinets and walks away. she instantly start climbing on the counter. he grabs her hips and pulls her done. he bear hugs her. “STOP IT!”
“NEVER!” she bites him. he lets go, “just tell me how old you are.”
“jesus, fine, 41,” he sighs and sits on the couch. she sits next to him.
“that wasn’t so hard now was it,” she laughs.
“you’re an absolute brat,” she leans her head on his shoulder. he puts his head on top of hers. her hand plays with his hand. tracing each vein and knuckle. she laces her fingered with his. he doesn’t pull away. all he does is whisper “please y/n, we can’t-“ she cuts him off by kisses his cheek.
“we’re two consenting adults. why can’t we,” she whines. she shifts to sit in his lap. she laces both hands together. he tries to control his breathing. he looks over every inch of her body. she just looks down at him. she leans down and kisses him. she puts his hands on her hips. her arms snake themselves around his neck. he breaks away.
“are you sure?” he asks.
“yes,” she breathes out. she leans back down and kisses him. his hands travels up her shirt and he undoes her bra. she pulls away and strips off the shirt and bra. he starts kissing down her neck, leaving red and purple marks. one of his hands moves to grope the soft flesh of her boobs. y/n arcs her back against his hand.
aizawa shifts and flips her onto her back. he gives her a quick peck then he leaves trails ok quick little kisses down to the waist band of her skirt.he wraps his fingers around the fabric and looks up at her. y/n nods.
“use your words bunny,” he says kissing her stomach.
“yes, please,” she says, tangling her fingers into his hair. aizawa pulls off her skirt. he smiles at the light lacy panties. he slowly slides them down. he kisses the bottom of her stomach. y/n’s hand yanks the collar of his shirt. he quickly takes it off. she sits up and creases every inch of his body. she soaks in all the little scars and muscles. he grabs her wrist and kisses the top of her hand. he leaves a trail of kisses down her arm and to her mouth.
y/n puts her hand back on his chest and pushed him back. she straddles him. she leans down and gives him light kisses everywhere while her hand slowly drifts to his pants. she rubs the forming bulge. he sucks on his teeth. she smiles down at him.
“damn you too good for me,” he whispers.
“damn right old man,” she laughs. he rolls his eyes and sits up. he pulls her closer. her clit grazing over his jean covered dick. she moans into his ear.
“fuck,” he whispers. her hands drive in between her legs and undoes his jeans. he chuckles. “so impatience,”
“shut up,” she sneers. he picks her up and brings her to his bed. he tosses her down. he pulls down his pants. “hmm boxer briefs guy,”
“i’ll leave..” he says. she laughs and pulls him onto her. they kiss and his hand makes it’s way to her heat. he spreads her folds. she moans into the kiss. he smiles. he drags his middle fingers from the bottom to her clit. y/n rolls her hips to his touch. he rubs small circles into the bud. she smirks under him.
“aizawa please,” she moans.
“shouta,” he whispers. his finger hovers over her entrance.
“hmm?” she looks up at him. he slides his finger in. she moans and grips onto the bed. he kept his hand still, feeling her clench around him.
“my first name,” he whispers. she thinks for a second and opens her mouth to say his name, but he starts moving his fingers causing her to moan it. she hits his arm.
“you purposely did that,” she pouted.
“so what if i did,” he leans down. y/n can feel his breath on her ear. “i want to hear it again.” her face gets all flushed. he moves his finger at a slowly pace. after awhile of little mewls and light breathing moans, aizawa slips his ring finger in.
“shouta~” she moans out.
“that’s it, good girl,” he picks up his pace. she continues to moan. aizawa kisses her collarbone and attaches himself to her boobs. his tongue expertly swirls around her hardened buds. her hands tangled in his hair. she feels the knot in her stomach come undone as she comes on his fingers. he pulls them out and looks at them. she looks at him.
“don’t,” she says. he’s eyes flicker at her. “please don’t,” he smiles and sticks his two fingers in his mouth. he closes his eyes and moans.
“mmm sound good,” he teases. she throws a pillow at him.
“you suck,” she whines. he lays down on top of her and kisses her. she wraps her arms around him. he slides his hands down and brings her legs up. she wraps them around his waist. he sides his hand down his underwear and brings his harder dick out. he teases her entrance before pushing the tip in. she moans into the kiss.
“fuck you’re so tight,” he hissed into her ear.
“what? ever fucked a college student?” she laughs. until he slams his hips into her. she cried out in pain. “god, your a lot bigger than you seem, shouta,” she moans his name which makes him want to fuck her into the bed.
he pulls out them slams back in. “you better take it with out complaints. you’re the one who’s been asking for it,” he says threw gritted teeth. she does this breathing moan that sends him over the edge and into an absolute feral mindset. he holds himself up on his elbows and just pounds y/n into the bed. her moans turn into screams of pleasure as her legs squeeze around his waist.
the knot in her stomach reappears and she clenched around his dick. “fuck y/n, beg to come you fucking slut,” he groans out.
“shouta please.” he trusts even deeper. “fuck. god please shouta let me come on your huge dick,” she whimpers out, feeling the knot in her stomach snap.
“omg yes, y/n,” he moans as her pussy clenched around him. her beautiful moans escape her lips as her face shows nothing but euphoria. her pussy sucks him in, clenching around him, trying to milk him. he lets out a grunt as he paints her velvety walls white. he weakly thrust a few more times before collapsing next to her. he pants as she rolls over and puts her head on his chest. his large hand pets her hair as she falls asleep in his arms.
He whispers to himself, “you’re the one I’ve been looking for,”
summary: you've known Asahi since middle school and recently you developed a crush on your closest friend. you spend all night writing the prefect letter.
warning: nsfw but wholesome, body worship, overstimulation, unprotected sex, and eating out.
wc: 2k
you put the letter into your pocket and you're off to school. you walked enjoying the beautiful trees and you watched the people walk by. today was a beautiful day. you wondered what asahi was doing after practice. as if thinking about him summoned him. he walks up behind you with some of his friends.
"hey y/n," he said. you smiled up at him and kept walking to school. you walked in silence as the boys talked about plans for the weekend. once you guys got to the school, you switched out your shoes and headed to class.
all you could do was thinking about him. asahi. his beautiful brown hair and soft honey eyes. how he smiled, how even though he's tall he still was gentile and caring. i zoned out for most of the class and lunch. just drifting through life as your nerves were buzzing.
after everyone had left you went to get your shoes and wait for asahi outside the gym. he comes running up.
"hey y/n, whatcha doing here?" he asks and plops down next to you. you play with your fingers and look at the ground. you kept your head down. "hey, what's wrong?" his hand gently placed itself on your back and he leaned closer.
"oh it's nothing," your hand drove into your pocket and pulled out the pink envelope. he looks at the letter and was about to open it when the coach came out. he yelled at him to get his ass in here and asahi left.
you're heart was racing as you sat there. you stared off into space as you go up and went home.
asahi gets shoved into the gym and heads over to the locker room to change. he looks at the pink envelope and puts it safely into his bag.
"what's that?" daichi said leaning up against the doorway.
"hmm? oh, y/n gave it to me," he said pulling on his t shirt.
"oooh. a love letter?" he coos and shoves asahi.
"i doubt it, we've been friends since middle school," he smiles and walks to practice.
you laid down on your bed and sighed. "oh did i fuck up this bad! what if when you reads it, he thinks i'm weird. or he starts hating me, or it makes everything awkward!" you yell. you close your eyes to stop the tears. you sniffled and fell asleep.
after practice, asahi walked home. he tossed his bag on his bed and checked his phone. normally he has at least a text from you but there was nothing. he thought it was weird and remember the letter.
he opened the pink envelope. his hand were shaking. 'why am i so shaky? maybe the jokes daichi was making were true. what if this is a love letter from y/n? do i like her?' he opens the letter and reads the words. his heart is beating in his head.
he picks up his phone and sends you a quick message. you hear you phone ping and you opened it. you smiled and sent back a quick message.
you put on a pair of shorts and a baggy hoodie. you figured he had read the letter and just wanted to hang out like normal. no need to get dressed up.
you walked a few blocks and knocked on the door. you hear heavy footsteps running to the door. asahi opens and smiles down at you. his cheeks had a slight tint to them. he invites you in and you two walk to his room.
you sit on his bed. you look over his room. the pink envelope was on his desk. your eyes widen and your heart sinks. jesus christ he did read it. he sits on the other side of you.
you two sat there awkwardly for a few minutes.
"how was-" "was school-" you guys spoke at the same time. "you first," he said.
"oh, how was practice?" you looked away playing with your hands.
"oh ukai was going hard on me for being late,"
"sorry," you interrupt.
"it's fine, i don't mind being late if you're the reason," he smiles. "well daichi was getting in case in the locker room. he was making jokes about me and," he stopped. he moves to hold your hands. you look up at him and his face was bright red. "and i read your letter," he says looking away.
"oh, i'm sorry," you move your hands out of his. you get up, "it's fine if you don't like me back," you head towards the door. "i'm just gonna-" you were cut off by his hand hitting the door. you slowly turn around. he's looming over you.
"y/n..." he starts. he looks down. he goes back to his bed and sits down. you stand against the door. "i guess i've liked you since middle school," he says. "i just never knew how to say it," you walk over to him.
you stand in front of him as your hands loop around his shoulders. he looks up and arms his arms around your waist. he pulls you close to him. you play with his hair. one of his hands creases down your hip and ass to bring you knee onto the bed. you straddle his lap as he buries his face into the crook of your neck.
he tightens his hold on you and you giggle. he smiles. he realizes he's in love with you. he wants you. only you. he never wants to let go.
you pull away and he looks betrayed. you lean in and kiss him. he easily melts into the kiss and leans back onto the bed. his hands travel underneath your hoodie. he drags it up and you sit up. you pull it off. you tossed it by his desk. he just stared at you. he wanted to remember every inch of you.
you look at him, looking at you, and your face goes instantly red. you hands played with the hem of his shirt as he just soaked in all your delicate features. his hands rest on your hips.
he was in a daze as his eyes dart around your body. "hey ahi," he looks up at you in a haze. you unclip your bra and let it slide down your arms. his eyes widen. he sits up and, in a shift motion, pins you against the bed. he kisses you. you smile into the kiss and you hand push up his shirt.
he sits up and rips off his shirt. he drives back down and kiss your neck. his fingers tangle into his long brown hair. he pecks your soft skin. he kisses at the base of your neck and your breath hitches.
you feel him smile against your skin and sucks on the soft skin. you grip his hair and arc your back. his hand slips under your back to pull you closer to his chest. his hand creases your lower back and his fingers slip under the waistband of your shorts. he moves away from your neck and pulls down your shorts.
you bite your lip and look away. he can't help but stare at your beautiful body. his fingers grip your chin. he pulls you to look at him. "you're so beautiful y/n," he whispers. your face goes bright red as he chuckles.
he sinks off the bed. he pulls your legs off the bed. he places your legs on his shoulder. he licks his lips as he kisses your thighs. his lips circle around your sensitive clit. he leans forward, pushing your legs up. he holds your thighs as he sucks your clit. you squeeze your knees together and moan out his name.
his hands pull your legs away from crushing his head as his tongue swirls around your clit. one of his hands moves to massage your boob. your hand rests on top of his as he plays with the flesh. your other hand tangles your fingers into his hair and you pull your legs closer causing his face to smush into your pussy. he moans into you as you tighten your grip on his hair.
he looks up to see your face bright red and eyes shut closed. your mouth hangs open with silent moans. he quickens licking to see your face twist in pleasure. you moan out his name as his fingertips leave bruises. you arc you back as you come. he laps up your juices.
you loosen your grip on his hair and you legs go limp on his shoulders. he massages your thighs as you come down from your high. he pulls away and climbs onto the bed. he leans down a kisses your forehead. your legs are pressed against your chest. he pulls his sweat pants down just enough for him to slip his hardened member out.
"god i've been waiting to do this for a long time," he whispers. he drags the tip of his dick across your slick folds. he looks up at you.
"if you're just gonna tease me," you were cut off by him slamming into you. you let out a breathy moan.
"goddamn, keep making noises like that, i might not last long," he groans out. he leans down and kisses your cheek to let you get adjusted to his size. you put your hand on his cheek. he smiles and snuggles into your hand.
"you're such a teddy bear," you giggle. he glares at you but holds his adorable smile. he leans down and kisses you. you wrap your arms around his neck. he slowly moves out. you whence at the movement.
"sorry," he whispers. you smash your lips back into his. he thrusts back in and continued at a slow pace. he licks the bottom of your lip and you open your mouth to let him explore. His tongue grazed over every inch of your mouth. He quickens his pace. You moan into the kiss.
He pulls away from the kiss and continues to rut into you. He watches you jerk underneath him. Your cute little moans fuel the fire in him as he pounds into you. You closed your eyes and let the euphoria feel wash over your body. Asahi continues at this pace, whispering sweet nothings into your ear as he tries to bring himself to finish.
"Damn y/n, you feel so good," he grumbles. You just sigh in agreement. you feel him tense up and his trust become sloppier. His hand rubs circles into your abused clit. The pressure building up in your stomach comes undone by his constant pounding and the overstimulation from his finger. "Come for me, babygirl," he whispers.
You do as your told and within seconds you spit out profanities and his name. The slick made it easier for him to trust in and out. your pussy clenches around him. He groans and you feel him fill you up. He weakly thrusts a few times and shrugged your legs off his shoulders. He falls onto your chest.
You wrap your arms around him. You play with his heart as he steadies his breathing. you two laid like that for what felt like hours. His eyes were closed and his face was soft and fast asleep. You smiled and closed your eyes to join him in sleeping.
That morning you woke up to soft kisses littering your face, neck and chest. You flutter your eyes open. He looked up at you. "Good morning sweetheart," he whispered and kisses you chest.
"Good morning chi," you whisper, letting your hands brush through his chocolate locks.
