#*turns your paul into a dog*

[pee-com]

how the fuck did he do that

[reidmotif]

Between the Books

Summary: Reader is a librarian at the library Spencer frequents while he's finishing one of his degrees. They find themselves in a precarious situation when everyone's left and they're the last two people there.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warning: unprotected penetrative sex, oral (f!recieving), fingering (f!recieving), themes of exhibitionism, public sex.

Word Count: 3.9 k

Masterlist

Being observant came naturally to you, almost as if it was a reflex embedded into the core of your nervous system. You’d say “hello” to a new face and as if under command, your eyes would naturally drift to the small pieces of hair on that stranger’s coat. 

Dog? Cat? Freakishly large gerbil? 

Whatever it was, you couldn’t turn it off. And that’s why when Spencer Reid caught your eye, you simply couldn’t find it in yourself to look away. 

And with time, it seemed like his actions mirrored yours.

You’d taken interest in a position at a university library for the summer. The job seemed to be a welcome change of pace from the likes of hectic summer jobs you’d go for typically in the past, a position that would mostly consist of monitoring graduate-level students who were, thankfully, much calmer than their undergrad counterparts.

 For the most part, you were right. Your days were filled with reading in an air-conditioned building, looking up titles of reference books for other students, and of course, the unexpected, yet welcomed, occurrence of Spencer Reid. 

The longer you spent at the library, the more you came to learn more about him. 

Well, as much as you could learn without actually speaking to the man. 

You’d learned his name from the library card he’d brandish when it came time to check out materials. He’d frequent books about Jean-Paul Sarte, Camus, and Nietzsche, opting to stay in the same, well-lit corner by the window every time he visited. While he could come in at any part of the day, he seemed to prefer later hours, when the library would be mostly vacant. His outfits weren’t over-the-top with formality, but he clearly wasn’t in the business of dressing casually.

 You found it attractive, honestly, how put-together he seemed. 

His return-rate on books was freakishly fast, and at one point, you’d assumed he was checking out books to read a certain page or chapter for research, and would then put it back, until you found yourself properly watching him and realized, no, he actually was just reading that fast. He could finish texts that would take almost a year to cover by seasoned professors and scholars in mere hours.

 How? You had no idea. Nevertheless, you desperately wanted to learn- to know him beyond the gazes of a library hall. 

You’d decided to try your luck at speaking to the man, noticing the three books he’d chosen all seemed to have one incredibly common theme amongst their authorship. 

“Existentialist?” You ask, trying to make your tone seem polite but still friendly. 

He blinks, as if he wasn’t expecting to be spoken to, and takes a second, his gaze meeting yours. “Sorry, what?” 

“Existentialist.” You repeat, motioning to the books you were checking out for him.  “Kierkegaard, Dostoevsky, Kafka. Your books seem to share a commonality.” 

He chuckles, realizing the meaning of your words and shakes his head. “No, no. Not an existentialist. I’d like to believe the world is better than what any of them make it out to be.” 

You smile, and nod. “I’d hope so.” Your eyebrows furrow, head tilting slightly. “Why the interest then?” There’s genuine fascination in your tone, and he seems to absolutely thrive off that, his eyes lighting up as you continue the conversation. 

“I’m completing my Masters in Philosophy.” He responds. “We’ve been doing an assignment on existentialism, hence the ridiculous amount of gloom and doom in my reading.”

 There’s a pause, before he cracks a smile, and then asks you, “Romantic?” 

You look at him in confusion. It’s your turn to not get the joke. “Sorry?” 

“Are you a romantic?” He asks. When you retain that confused look on your face, he continues. 

“You’re almost always reading some variation of a romance novel here. So far I’ve counted Austen, Bronte, and I think I saw a copy of Anna Karenina on the counter once.” 

You feel a bit of heat rise to your face, realizing that in his own way, he’d been observing you as well. In a second, the tables were turned, and the lens you often used on others was abruptly focused on you instead. 

“Well, Anna Karenina is hardly a romance, I’d argue.” You say, before nodding. “But, yeah. I guess I’d say I’m a fan of romance in novels.” 

He smiles, shaking his head. “I’m not asking you if you’re a fan of romance in novels, I’m asking you if you’re a romantic.” He says, putting emphasis on the last word, as if that was supposed to provide some grand difference to the statement. 

“Just as much as anyone else, right?” You respond, still a bit puzzled at his insistence on contrasting the syntax of his statement. 

“I see.” He says, nodding, continuing to look at you, as if he was sizing you up. “I’ll have to pick up a copy of Anna Karenina sometime then. See if it’s as much of a love story as I remember.” 

“I think you’ll find it’s absolutely not.” You reply, smiling. “I believe we have a copy of it here, as a matter of fact, if you’re actually interested.” There’s a hint of skepticism in your tone, wondering why he seemed to be taking so much regard to your conversation.

“Of course I’m actually interested. You seem passionate about the subject.” He counters, grinning. 

“I mean- yeah, I am! It’s a pretty misinterpreted book, I think.” You say. There’s a slight moment of silence, before you find yourself saying your next few words. “I’m also surprised you’re interested. I’m not always sure if it’s up everyone’s lane. Lots of people can’t get through it.” 

“I’m sure the least I can do is try.” He says, shrugging. 

You check out the last of his books, placing them in his outstretched hands. “Honestly, I’m even more surprised you noticed. You seem pretty into it in your corner over there.” You say, half-jokingly, but with a hint of seriousness mixed into it. 

He gives a softer smile, almost boyish, as he replies. 

“You’re pretty hard not to notice.” 

He keeps the smile on his face, giving you a slight nod of his head, before leaving you to deal with the sudden heat that had risen to your cheeks as a result of his words. You couldn’t find it in yourself to respond to his quick wit in the moment, your heartbeat still racing long after he’d left. 

Over that summer, the two of you get continually closer. To your absolute delight, he does end up reading Anna Karenina and better yet, he agrees with you. You immediately take an even stronger liking to him than before. Thus starts your tradition of recommending books to each other, the two of you discussing them when he’d come to the library, almost like a secret, private book club that only you two were privy to. 

You come to learn more about him. His doctorates, his job. The secret of his inhumanely fast reading was revealed to you later down the road, when he explained the abilities of an unconscious mind.. or something. While you wanted to give your undivided attention to him, there was an unspoken part of you that couldn’t help but find it ridiculously attractive when he explained things to you. He never seemed to notice that enduring part of your psyche, and you were grateful for that. 

Overall though, he made quite the friend. He shared your love of literature, and could be a wonderful listener at times. Your previous days of solitude in the library were long forgotten, and you found yourself looking forward to his daily visits, ready to share your thoughts on some book he’d last asked you to read. 

You find that his visits become less and less about the actual establishment, and more and more about you, especially when he opts to visit you at the front desk first, as opposed to over at his usual spot by the window. Somedays, he makes it obvious, not even bothering to peruse the selection of books he was previously accustomed to, and merely opts to talk to you the entire time, right up to the point where you’re locking the doors of the library and heading to your own place for the night. 

There’s a part of you that wonders why he hasn’t asked you out. You wonder why you hadn’t asked him out. It only seems natural, given how much time the two of you were spending- a date seemed like an obvious byproduct of the lingering gazes you’d catch him throw at you, the absolute joy that would bubble in your chest everytime the two of you shared an afternoon. 

You shrug it off. All in good time, right? 

It’s another night at the library, and you found yourself a bit frustrated. You’d asked your manager if there was any way she could take on the later shift of the day, increasingly tired with the hours of the job and simply needing a break from it all. She refused, and tonight, that refusal seemed to be on the forefront of your mind. 

“I just- I don’t get it, Spencer. I know she can take on this shift.” You say, wheeling around a cart of books to be reshelved, talking openly since the library was empty at this point in the day, all patrons packed up and soundly at home– while you were stuck here. 

He stayed, of course, following you around diligently as you completed the task, listening to every word.

 “I get that this is the worst shift to have, but come on. I’m a good employee, you know? I feel like I deserve a break here and there.” You come to a stop, picking up a stack of books with a huffy sigh. “But no. I’m the one who has to go home late. I’m the one who’s on closing every single night. I’m sick of it.” 

He nods sympathetically, and you continue to grovel, deeply appreciative that he was allowing you to vent to him like this. You stand on the provided step-stool on the ground, allowing you to have the height necessary to shelve some books that belonged further up than normal. 

“Like, is it really that hard?” You grumble, your face turned away from Spencer as you find each book’s proper place. “God forbid she sleeps at a later time than normal- or I don’t know, hires someone else.” The last book is reshelved, and you turn around, about to dismount the stool. “And another thing-” 

In the midst of your rant, you find yourself distracted,  missing the step on the stool that would’ve allowed a safe dismount, and you quickly realize you’re falling off, letting out a small yelp before a stronger force keeps you upright- a force that happened to be Spencer’s arms catching you. 

“You alright?” He asks with heavy concern, trying to look into your eyes or your legs, attempting to discern for signs where you might’ve hurt yourself on your descent. 

It takes a second for you to process that you are insanely close to Spencer. His features are almost enhanced by the low-lighting of the dark library, his eyes entirely dilated as he stares at you, his lips soft and perfect– and those cheekbones, god. You could practically cut yourself on them. 

You quickly return to your senses, trying to go back to a more suitable position that wouldn’t leave you so absolutely tongue tied. “No, no. I’m fine, honestly.” You step back, wiggling your leg a little. “See? Entirely fine.” 

He smiles a little sheepishly. “Sorry, I just get worried. I’m a doctor, you know.” He says, a teasing quality in his tone as he steps closer. 

“Not an actual doctor.” You say, rolling your eyes fondly. 

“Come on.” He says, letting his hand drift over back to your arm, which had taken most of the shock of falling onto him. “Humor me.” 

There’s that grin again, and you can’t help but relent. 

And so you humor him like he asked, letting his fingertips trail over the skin to properly check for any injuries, the action much more sensual than it should’ve been for a friend checking up on another friend. 

“You know.” He murmurs, his voice a bit lower than before. “I don’t actually think this is the worst shift to take on.” 

Your throat is dry, a physical reaction being drawn out of you as he touches you, and there’s a conscious reminder you actually have to respond to his words. 

“Oh? Why is that?” You force out. 

“It’s so quiet.” He mumbles out, immediately, his fingertips now tracing down to your waist, as the two of you made eye contact. “Nobody’s even in here at this point.” 

You swallow, trying to calm the rapid beat of your heart. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right.” 

“I like the quiet.” He says, continuing on. The previously feather-like touch on your waist becomes more grasping than anything else. “There’s just so much more you can get done when it’s quiet.” 

You nod and half heartedly mumble. “Mhm.” You’re far more focused on your growing proximity than his actual words, the act rendering you entirely breathless until he’s standing face to face with you, your breaths mingling due to the closeness. 

“I can feel your heart beating.” He mumbles. “So fast. Do I make you nervous?” 

You lick your lips and nod out of instinct, before squeezing your eyes shut and shaking your head. “No, no. It’s just the closeness. I’m not used to it.” You whisper, eyes opening– and his gaze is as intense as ever. 

One of his hands goes to cup your face. “Unless you tell me otherwise, I’m going to kiss you now.” 

You don’t move a single muscle. 

And then all of a sudden, he’s everywhere. He’s pulling you closer, absolutely devouring you like he’s been starved for your touch all along. His tongue slips into your mouth, and you respond in approval, humming with a deep content against his lips, your hands going to wrap around his neck, pulling your bodies flush together. You don’t want space– not now, or ever again. 

“Fuck. Wanted this for so long.” He mumbles, as soon as he breaks off the kiss, finding the pulse point on your neck, and going at it with his lips, causing you to quietly moan out in pleasure. You’d never heard him curse before, and the act only served to add to the steadily growing throb in between your legs. 

He pushes you even more insistently up against the counter attached to the bookshelves, your weight slightly more supported by the wood, as opposed to his body like before. 

“You’re so pretty.” He breathes out in between his assault on your neck, his mouth finding every inch of your nape, and marking it as his own. It’s almost like he’s hellbent on mapping out every plane of skin there, committing every spot that makes you whine or let out his name to memory.

You’re breathing so heavily, and you think it can’t possibly get any better than this, but he proves you wrong when he abruptly gets to his knees, your eyes widening. 

“Need to taste you. Please.” 

He’s begging, like, on-his-knees, doe-eyes, broken voice- begging to eat you out. 

And how could you ever say no, what, with those pretty eyes of his, and that expression on his face that made you practically weak with need?  

“Yes.” You whisper out, and in record time, he’s undoing your jeans and underwear in one clean swoop, not even bothering to fully remove the material before his tongue is all over your cunt, lapping up the wetness that had accumulated in the past few minutes. You’re half surprised he didn’t just rip your clothing off, given the enthusiasm he was showing at this moment. 

You’re suddenly incredibly aware of where you are- your place of work, a fucking library, and Spencer Reid was buried in your thighs like a man parched, lapping up wherever he possibly can. You can hear the obscene noises of your passion, his tongue lavishing over you, before he pays special attention to your clit, wrapping his lips around the nub and sucking softly.  You cover your mouth with your free hand- grateful that the wood behind you was supporting you, because without it, you truly think you’d topple over from the sheer pleasure of it all. 

“Fuck.” You whisper, voice high-pitched as you try to hold back your noises. “Fuck. Gonna come.” You warn, legs shaking as you barreled towards your release. 

Without warning, his fingers enter your cunt, and you’re fighting back a scream. 

How long had you stared at his fingers before this? How many times had you watched them run up and down the spines of the books he read, or gestured with them constantly whilst speaking? How long had such a simple part of his body captivated you? 

How many times had you secretly wondered to yourself how they’d feel inside you?

It didn’t matter anymore. You had your answer now. Fucking amazing.

“Spencer!” You whine out, his fingers naturally reaching that soft spot inside that you often struggled to even brush against. His lips find your clit again, sucking softly and you know you’re an absolute goner. 

“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck-” 

Before you can even voice in coherent terms how good this feels, you’re coming, the walls of your cunt spasming around his fingers as he relishes in the reaction, using the tip of his tongue to circle your clit, and slowing his fingers down as you ride out the remnants of your orgasm. He slips the digits out of you as he rises to his knees, and sucks on his fingers, one by one, practically moaning as he tastes your release.

The sight is downright sinful.

“You taste so good.” He whispers, crashing his lips against yours again, and you’re already needy again when you can taste yourself on his tongue. 

His hands drift down to his own slacks, undoing them and pulling his cock out, already dripping with precum. 

“You ready, pretty girl?” He murmurs, guiding his tip to your waiting cunt. You’ve situated yourself on the wood of the desk entirely now, needing the support for what happens next. 

You nod, and without even realizing he was already mostly there, he pushes into you entirely, and your jaw drops. Your head rests against  his shoulder, trying to accustom to feeling of him stretching you out so fucking perfectly. 

How could you ever fuck anyone else again, when he just felt so perfect for you? 

It seemed that he agreed with the sentiment, moaning softly as his free hand steadied himself by gripping onto the shelf. “You feel so fucking good.” He murmurs. “Can I move? Are you okay?” He asks, softly. 

His other hand rubs soothing circles into your hip bone, and you’re nodding, touched by his concern for you, even during such a salacious act. 

His thrusts are slow at first, still allowing you to get used to the feeling of him inside of you, before he’s truly going at it, his thick cock rubbing against your wet walls in a way that makes you feel light and full all at once. It's delectable, and you never want it to end. 

You whine, holding onto his neck, your head thrown back as you take it, feeling the books rattle around you with every hump he deals into you. You can’t even find it in yourself to care– all that matters right now is you, and him, and how fucking amazing it feels when he’s fucking you like this. 

You can feel yourself building towards another pleasurable release, before you hear the telltale click of the library door opening, effectively removing you from the moment. Fuck. The janitor. 

“Spencer, Spencer!” You whisper-shout, biting your lip. His cock doesn’t once slow inside you, and you find it hard to think when it feels that good. 

“We’re gonna be caught!” You whine out, dizzied by how you were simultaneously turned on and utterly panicked. 

“No, we won’t.” He whispers, gruffly. With your hands now around his neck, he lets his hand drop from the shelf and covers your mouth. He leans in even closer, if that’s possible, eyes dark. 

The sight makes a shiver go up your spine. 

“Stay quiet.” He murmurs, as he begins to deal slower, more deliberate thrusts into your cunt. 

“Feel that? Feel how I’m filling you up, nice and slow?” He whispers, the words barely audible, but with how close he’s standing to you, they overtake every one of your senses, and you nod desperately, eyes glistening as you feel yourself dancing on the precipice of release. 

“Shh. I know.” He murmurs. “Come for me, yeah? I know you want to. Show me how much you like my cock inside of you.” 

It's a combination of his tone, of the risk you two were facing, and the sensation of him that has you responding exactly the way he wants, and in an instant, you’re coming with a shuddering breath, holding back a loud whine, just like he asked you to. 

The feeling of your walls spasming has him releasing as well,  a warmth flooding in your deepest point. His head drops into your shoulder as he attempts to muffle his moans the best he can, and you both bask in the afterglow for a second, trying to pant as quietly as you could. 

Spencer immediately springs into action, redressing you with precision and care, guiding your underwear and jeans back up, buttoning them up for you. You’re still in a slight haze from the two orgasms he’d just given you, and when you properly come to, his slacks are back on, and he leans in for a much more chaste kiss. It leaves you with butterflies, despite everything,  and you find yourself smiling softly at him. The fondness reflected in his expression is undeniable.

“Let’s get out of here.” He murmurs, grabbing your hand and guiding you in between the shadows of the shelves, effectively keeping you both from being caught. The janitor remains clueless, as you two sneak out, giggling like teenagers as you find yourselves outside, the summer night warm and cool all at once. 

“That was..” You mumble, laughing a bit, surprised that had even happened. 

“I know. I- uh. Might’ve gotten carried away?” He says. “I usually like to do that after a date. I just-” He steps closer, cupping your cheek. “I couldn’t wait. I hope that’s okay.” He whispers. 

“More than okay.” You whisper back. 

His thumb slowly strokes over the expanse of your cheek, and he bites his lip. “Could we? Date? Try this out?” He murmurs. “I know I didn’t get much of a chance to say it back there, but I really like you.” 

You can’t help the chuckle that escapes you. This man had just been inside you, and now he was blushing and stuttering whilst he attempted to ask you out. 

“Yes.” You nod. “Let’s try this.” 

He’s got the most genuine smile on his face, and a sigh of relief  can be heard as he leans in again to kiss you, and you can’t help the smile on your face as your lips meet his, the elation in both of your bodies absolutely radiating inside and out. 

You recount your first conversation and know now, there was a difference between liking romance, and being a romantic. 

You reckon Spencer Reid could make quite a romantic out of you. 

this is uploading an hour later than i wanted it to :( but whatever. i hope you guys like this one <3 i'm trying something new! not first person pov, but "you" ? pleaseee let me know how this works for you guys! i love experimenting out with new fic methods but if it's clear this isn't working TELL MEEE so i can go back to what did work. anyway, any likes, reblogs, comments are so so so genuinely appreciated. thank you thank you thank you for reading either way <3

[cosmictheo]

𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐒 | feyd-rautha

(gif credits to @pascow)

— summary: an arranged marriage with feyd-rautha in the name of reconciling your houses was something you were not expecting, neither was the soft and light way he seemed to behave towards you and only you. —pairing: feyd-rautha harkonnen x female!atreides!reader —word count: 3k —warnings: arranged marriage, feyd being gentle and calm because the reader is the love of his life (as it was written), probably ooc!feyd (sorry but i just love to see the most savage and feral men fall on their knees for their s/o)

writer’s note: english is not my mother tongue, so please forgive me if there is a grammatical error. hope you like it!

ᯓ★ part one ── part two ── part three (coming soon)

Your arranged marriage to Feyd-Rautha had been the reason for House Atreides and Harkonnen to strengthen their alliance, ensuring that neither would stab each other in the back, which was most expected from the Baron. Your Houses had been wavering on a faint thread that separated you from a war and this marriage arrangement had pacted a reconciliation. It had been your parents' idea and obeying your parents was the most important thing for you, right after protecting your family and indeed that was what you were doing, guarding your family.

Your twin brother did not like the idea, he was not very fond of Feyd-Rautha and his House, moreover, he found him rather... repulsive. For Feyd was a savage, a ruthless and bloodthirsty man.

However, he had to admit that, next to him, you would be basically untouchable, after all, it was like having a guard dog, the most possessive and protective dog, a dog that was ready to kill and ravage for you if necessary.

“He's scary.” Paul's voice echoed inside your head as together you walked along the vast hallways of the Harkonnen palace, at the end of it, Feyd-Rautha stood, engaged in a conversation with your parents, forever as stiff and somber as he had been since you had first met him.

“Just look at him, you'll have to wake up next to him for the rest of your life.” Your brother insisted, throwing you a knowing and concerned look. “We can fix this without you having to marry that man, sister. There must be something—”

“Enough.” you interrupted him, finally dragging your eyes from your betrothed to your anxious brother pacing beside you, you made an effort to offer him a reassuring, soft smile, grateful that he was always so caring and concerned about you and your well-being. “There's nothing else we can do. You know about my visions and what they foresee. Our House will not endure if I do not accept this offer.”

“We will do whatever it takes to survive for now.” You added, holding Paul's gaze, noting the sadness and pity behind his dark eyes, and like the good sister you were, you sighed softly, leaning closer to him to bring him some kind of reassurance. “Our turn will come to make our move and win, brother.”

“Whatever it takes.” He echoed, nodding his head, fingers brushing your clasped hand around his forearm, as you were accustomed to do when you walked side by side.

“The marriage will take place two weeks from now.” The Duke's voice gave out the news once you were all inside the assembly room, with the Baron at the head of the table, of course, looking uncharacteristically approving and pleased to hear the announcement.

The massive man showed his approval with a hint of a phantom, twisted smile, plump fingers taping the edge of the black table in front of him. “We will have the princess as a guest in our home for a week and then the na-Baron will visit her home for the last week, prior to her coming to live here.”

He planned the whole thing and there was absolutely no one in the room who had the idiotic courage to be against his command, so, it was settled.

Once you said goodbye to your family and gave a tight and emotional hug to your brother, you were left alone in the dark and gigantic planet of the Harkonnen family, feeling like an outsider, like a small prey surrounded by bloodthirsty predators. Although, the place possessed an indescribable and incomparable beauty, the sun was black, and the light that irradiated was whitish, giving it a beautiful contrast with all the black buildings rising majestically. But the place was rather... depressing, quiet and somewhat eerie, it was nothing like your home.

You soon felt out of place, and everyone who looked at you could see it too. It was as if you had some kind of golden aura, glowing among all the darkness and gloom of the place.

Feyd-Rautha watched you attentively, analyzing every expression and emotion you let be shown across your face, catching the look your eyes possessed, that special little gleam that flashed in your orbs as you admired Giedi Prime as if it were one of the most beautiful things you had ever seen in your life, his home.

“Do you like it here, my lady?” His husky, raspy voice managed to snap you out of your trance, and your heart skipped a beat once you trailed your gaze from the horizon beneath the balcony to him, meeting his deep, dark gaze. He always seemed to look at you with those eyes, captivated, as if you were some form of strange spectacle.

And indeed you were, you stood in perfect contrast to the planet, your eyes were bright, lively, your aura was vivacious and hopeful. And because of that, he liked to look at you, study your face, your body language, every little reaction you had in response to something. You were fascinating.

Whenever you entered any room, his deep blue eyes were pulled to you like a magnet, drawn to orbit around you like his planet circling the dark sun.

Feyd noticed out of the corner of his eye how your hands clasped lightly around the balcony fence in front of you, skin contrasting against the blackness of the material. 

You nodded your head very slowly, twisting your body just enough to be able to look him directly in the face, big eyes looking up at him, not with fear, but with expectation. “I do.”

Even your voice was the opposite of his, keeping that soft and delicate tone, as elegant as you.

He seemed satisfied with your positive response, and so, he dared to lean against the balcony fence right next to you, but careful not to cause you to feel too uncomfortable or intruded upon. His eyes never left you for a second and he was quite pleased that you were bold enough to hold his powerful and intimidating gaze.

“Good, it will soon become your home too.” Feyd answered you, in a tone that oscillated between amusement and fascination, you didn't quite know how to decipher the expression on his face either, naturally.

He was very complicated to read, even if you tried extra hard, the many tutoring and lessons with Lady Jessica didn't seem to do much use, with him. Perhaps because he made you feel unnerved, he made your soul tremble like no one could, stepping beyond your walls and standing where none of your senses seemed to work. Where the eye could not see.

“Are you mocking me?” Still, you had the courage to ask him that bold question, one eyebrow rising on your forehead and your head twisting slightly, defiant face and all.

Your bravery made him laugh slightly this time, a noise that was heard almost unnaturally, with a small crooked smile on his lips that looked all too unusual and strange on him. For not even his strongest and most powerful enemies had had the courage to stand in front of him and challenge him like you were doing right now. You were a fierce girl. And he liked that.

“I wouldn't be likely to mock you, my lady.” Feyd-Rautha replied calmly, his tone of voice the exact same, as if you were a spectacle. Your eyes lowered to his hand, which snaked slowly to the edge of the balcony fence, fingers stroking the smooth surface. “I'm just stating the obvious. You'll be living here with me soon. It will be our home and you will reign with me when it's my turn.”

You narrowed your eyes slightly at his response, not yet quite convinced that he would behave so calm and composed with you, when not more than two days ago you had seen him slicing men to pieces in the arena. “You are not bothered by me invading your space?”

You asked that question because you knew how... eccentric men usually behaved, you could see it in basically every man with any power you had ever met, in the so many meetings with the Duke back home. You could see how they treated their wives, how they looked at them and how they talked to them, as if they were dealing with a servant. You feared this marriage was like that too.

Even your parents' marriage was broken, since Duke Leto kept close to his heart another woman who was not Lady Jessica, he did not love her as he loved that unknown woman. You had grown up seeing an empty and cold marriage, merely to fulfill a duty.

You understood that your marriage would also have that basis, and therefore, you knew that duty was the death of love. But for some silly, innocent reason, you wanted to think there might be love here. As the naive, young girl that you were.

Feyd-Rautha shrugged, not taking much interest in the matter of the question, “You'll be my wife, my space is your space.”

A hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips when he saw that his answer pleased you. You could begin to understand that to him the whole arranged marriage thing wasn't as important as it was to you, or maybe it was, but it didn't seem to bother him or disagree.

“Does this marriage bother you?” It was his turn to ask, staring down at you, noticing how beautifully your skin reflected the pale natural light of the black sun. He could see how frustrated you were now, to be there, with him. “Does it bother you to be my wife?”

You sighed heavily, peeling your eyes from Feyd-Rautha and returning them to the beauty of the landscape below, pondering the questions. His dark eyes followed your every movement as your body turned forward again, hands gripping the balcony fence as if your life depended on it.

“Do you care much for my opinion of you?” You decided to answer him with another question and that seemed to annoy him for his frown deepened and his fingers halted on the fence, devoting himself to glaring at you with his azure eyes, mirroring the pallid light of the gloomy sun.

“Woman, I will marry you and live by your side for the rest of my life, of course your opinion is important.” He took a couple of steps closer to you as he spoke, hand closer and closer to yours, managing to make you even more nervous. “Don't speak nonsense, it doesn't suit you. You're a smart girl.”

Seeing the expression on your face, he leaned even closer and out of the corner of your eye you watched as his hand rose to your face, resting on your chin and turning it ever so gently for you to look at him, but your eyes lowered, fleeing from his.

It seemed astonishing to him that you didn't even flinch away when you sensed the approach of his hand to your face, as if it wasn't the same hand that had slaughtered so many and slit so many necks by the same motion.

“Don't take your eyes off me.” He demanded in a low, raspy tone of voice, you could feel his breath brush against your face. “Look at me.”

When he whispered your name in that delicate, nearly pleading tone, you finally summoned the courage to look at him, allowing him to cradle your chin between his fingers and allowing him to be so close to you that you felt suffocated by the warmth of his body against yours.

“You fear me?”

He asked in that tone of voice, whispering, silently asking you to have mercy on him, not to fear him as everyone usually feared him, not to see him as the monster everyone saw, but as your husband, your protector and your lover.

He saw how your eyes watered slightly as fear peered into your usual stoic, cold face, and Feyd-Rautha was used to beholding that face, was used to fear, because it was always the last look of his enemies.

“I'm afraid. Of leaving home, of living on an unknown planet, of marrying someone I don't know.” Then you shook your head softly, looking up at him through your long eyelashes. “But I am not afraid of you, Feyd-Rautha.”

“You're very bold... and emotional.” He whispered in a disapproving but gentle voice, fingers tracing barely a caress along your lower lip before he reached up and dried the couple of tears that had managed to escape from your pretty eyes. At the closeness, you could begin to see through the mask he always carried, hiding his emotions. “You can't let yourself look like this in front of your enemies, it will make you appear weak.”

“I can't let myself look like this in front of my future husband?” his dark eyes lowered to your lips as you modulated the question, pupils dilating slightly. You swallowed as you saw desire and lust darken his orbs even more when you referred to him as your husband. You sniffed, feeling suddenly embarrassed by your outburst of emotions. “I'm s—sorry. You shouldn't see me like this, my lord.”

“Don't apologize.” He again reprimanded you in that passive-aggressive tone of his, like a hiss of a snake, shaking his head a little. Even after he wiped away your little tears, his hands remained in the same place, cupping your face, each of his thumbs resting on your flushed cheekbones.His fingertips were surprisingly gentle against your skin, sending shivers all over your body beneath their path. “You can be like this only with me, you understand? You can trust me, I want you to trust me.” His fingers took a lock of your hair and pulled it away from your face, running it carefully behind your ear. “But I really don't like to see you cry, my wife-to-be.”

After barely a second of silence with his azure eyes again flicking down to your parted lips, he spoke again, muttering, his raspy voice indicating that perhaps it hurt his throat to talk like that. “Pretty girls like you should cry out of pleasure only.”

He studied your face once more, not missing the way you blushed at his open flirtation and suggestive words, how you bit your lower lip, pupils expanding in thick blackness. You weren't used to so much attention, let alone men saying those kinds of words to you, it was evident. You were so innocent that it provoked a rare feeling of tenderness in Feyd-Rautha.

Perhaps it would be the closest thing to an act of consolation you would get from him and it was likely the only time in his life he had ever done that.

Promptly, you managed to make him smile again. “You Atreides are so strange and delicate... but then again, you will soon be Harkonnen, the prettiest na-Baroness, my pretty little wife.”

From his voice, his careful choice of words and the way he was looking at you, you expected him to kiss you right there —perhaps that was what you wanted, amidst all the tumult of emotions that shook your little heart, beating in rumbling noises inside your chest, pumping fiery blood through your veins.

But after a few seconds, he pulled his hands away from your face and backed away from you, taking a few steps back and offering you a look that you managed to perceive as soft rather than harsh. You knew that he was controlling himself well in maintaining a good demeanor, perhaps because his uncle had ordered him to do so; to do his best to make a good impression and not bring shame to the family. And also because he wanted you to have a good image of him, he was a prideful man, he was used to boast of his virtues and his power, and he was above all, protective of his own person and his glory.

He made a short gesture with his head pointing to the open balcony door, his hands clasping together behind his back pragmatically, as if he were presenting himself in front of a superior. “Now come, pretty girl, I'll show you the palace myself. You're future home.”

You walked towards him, a little smile curving your lips, the first smile on your face during the entire conversation, and he admired it in all it's glory.

“You don't have to be all stiff when you're with me, Feyd.” You eyed his posture with light eyes as you passed him and made your way inside the guest room with graceful steps, him following close behind.

He wasn't very fond of being addressed by name directly, of having his name used so freely, but the way you pronounced his name made him so utterly proud to be called that, he suddenly was wishing you would just call him that, in that tone of voice, tongue savoring his name as if it were the most delightful thing to say.

You turned to look at him for a few seconds, your tone of voice becoming reassuring, something he wasn't quite used to, yet he heard and savored it as if it were the sweetest thing in the world.

“If you can see me cry, then I can see you relaxed. It is only fair, no?”

Feyd-Rautha received your words positively, causing him to deepen his breathing into a snorting chuckle, eyes sparkling with amusement now behind your back.

“I'll try for you.” His response made you smile once more.

[wilwheaton]

As Times columnist Paul Krugman wrote: “At this point, the Trump campaign rests entirely on denouncing things that aren’t happening — an imaginary bad economy, imaginary runaway crime and now an imaginary failure of Biden and Harris to respond to a natural disaster.” Of course, his campaign is about nothing, because he believes in nothing. “I only like people that like me,” he said in August. He’s never said anything truer. It captures the entirety of his moral worldview. If you like him, you’re good. If you don’t, you’re bad. There’s no such thing as higher-order values. There is no lie too grotesque, thought too stupid, act too shameful or crime too heinous. The only rule determining virtue or vice is whether you’re for or against him. A campaign about nothing that’s run by a candidate who believes in nothing is predictably chaotic. I wake up each morning to read news about a lie Trump told yesterday that’s become even more obscene. For instance, what began last month as a ridiculous accusation that Haitian immigrants in Springfield, Ohio, were eating dogs and cats took a turn this week when he said he would, as president, strip the legal status of those same immigrants in order to “remove them.” When nothing is more important than your own immediate needs, higher-order things like facts, morality and the rule of law can be dismissed. And if he can do that to Haitians, he can do that to virtually anyone – turn them into monsters to justify acting monstrously. And if he can do that to people, he will do that to democracy.

Trump's 2024 strategy: A campaign about literally nothing - Raw Story

[hotvintagepoll]

this is a poll for a movie that doesn't exist.

It is vintage times. The powers that be have decided to again remake the classic vampire novel Dracula for the screen. in an amazing show of inter-studio solidarity, Hollywood’s most elite hotties are up for the starring roles. the producers know whoever they cast will greatly impact the genre, quality, and tone of the finished film, so they are turning to their wisest voices for guidance.

you are the new casting director for this star-studded epic. choose your players wisely.

Previously cast:

Jonathan Harker—Jimmy Stewart

The Old Woman—Martita Hunt

Count Dracula—Gloria Holden

Mina Murray—Setsuko Hara

Lucy Westenra—Judy Garland

The Three Voluptuous Women—Betty Grable, Marilyn Monroe, and Lauren Bacall

The Agonized Mother—Mary Philbin (rip)

Dr. Jack Seward—Vincent Price

Quincey P. Morris—Toshiro Mifune

Arthur Holmwood—Sidney Poitier

R.M. Renfield—Conrad Veidt

The Captain of the Demeter—Omar Sharif (rip)

The First Mate of the Demeter—Leonard Nimoy (rip)

Mr. Swales—Ed Wynn (rip)

The Correspondent for The Daily Graph—Ethel Waters

Dracula in dog form—Frank Oz with a puppet

Sister Agatha—Angela Lansbury

Mrs. Westenra—Gladys Cooper

Dracula's solicitors—Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee

Van Helsing is described at length in the novel. He is Dr. Seward's old mentor, possessing "an iron nerve, a temper of the ice-brook, an indomitable resolution, self-command, [....] and the kindliest and truest heart that beats." According to Mina, he is "a man of medium height, strongly built, with his shoulders set back over a broad, deep chest and a neck well balanced on the trunk as the head is on the neck. The poise of the head strikes me at once as indicative of thought and power. The head is noble, well-sized, broad, and large behind the ears. The face, clean-shaven, shows a hard, square chin, a large resolute, mobile mouth, a good-sized nose, rather straight, but with quick, sensitive nostrils, that seem to broaden as the big bushy brows come down and the mouth tightens. The forehead is broad and fine, rising at first almost straight and then sloping back above two bumps or ridges wide apart, such a forehead that the reddish hair cannot possibly tumble over it, but falls naturally back and to the sides. Big, dark blue eyes are set widely apart and are quick and tender or stern with the man's moods." Van Helsing tends to talk through funny stories and bizarre metaphors, is one of the first to consider the supernatural in Lucy's illness, and comes from Amsterdam.

[msfantasy]

Return Home Visit

Paul Lahote x Cullen!Reader

Summary: Rosalie and Emmets daughter visits during college break.

“I said get out of my house dog!” Rosalie spits venomously to Paul who stands awkwardly in the door way. “I don’t care if she’s your imprint, she’s not going to be with you! Over my dead body!”

“You can’t keep her from me forever.” Paul retorts edging in closer. “She deserve to know she’s my imprint, we’ll be together eventually whether you like it or not.” Rosalie pulls her fist back which Emmet lunges and grabs her arm before any damage is inflicted.

“Don’t, she’s almost here.” Emmet whispers. Everyone in the Cullen household listens to the echoing foot steps walking up the drive way.

“Leave before-“ Your voice cuts off Rosalie’s threat.

“Oh my god Paul?! Is that you? What are you doing here?” You squeaked excitedly, placing your bags down only to swing your arms around Paul’s neck pulling him into a tight hug. Leaning away, Paul looks down to your face, looking into your beaming eyes. God his heart yearns for your affection. He just wanted to look into your eyes forever, and hold you just like you are forever. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about.” But before Paul could utter another word, Rosalie interrupts.

“Uh - hello? Aren’t you going to greet your own mother first?” Rosalie snaps making you quickly withdrawal from Paul’s embrace, the warmth of embarrassment creeps along your cheeks.

You quickly pull your mother into a tight hug. “I missed you Ma.” Your sweet words of proclamation melt Rosalie’s soul into a puddle. Your presence always managed to soothe her nerves.

“My turn babygirl, come give your old man a hug.” Your hulking father doesn’t give you a chance to pull away. He just wraps his large arms around you and Rosalie. “Both my girls are here with me. The world feels right again.” His corny words only make you giggle.

“Come now, we have your favourite take away ready on speed dial.” Rosalie hoaxes making you giddy with excitement.

“Thank ma, I’m starving! What do you feel like Paul? They have an awesome burger that has your name all over it.” Paul sheepishly enters the house hesitant under Rosalie’s murderous gaze.

“Sweetness… I thought it would just be a family evening…” You look to your dad to sooth the vein popping out of your mothers forehead, but your father only folds to your mother. Typical.

“She’s right sweetheart, we just want to spend the night with our daughter, we haven’t seen you in so long. I’m sure you understand Paul.” He says amicably, but the strong push of Emmets hands are anything but as Paul goes tumbling out the door and thudding shut on your long time crush which only serves to anger you further with the rush of humiliation.

“What is up with you guys?! What’s your problem with Paul anyway?” Your cheeks begin flaring in humiliation at your parents not so subtle dislike. “Ever since I met Paul you’ve acted so hostile and unwelcoming towards him. He’s never even done anything to deserve your wrath.”

“He’s a turns into a dog! They’re slave to their emotions, what happens if he gets upset with you one day and you come out more disfigured than Emily?” The horror of your parents words and actions light your head on fire.

“Uncle Jasper almost wrote the end date on my gravestone once, or have you forgotten?” You spit angerily, Rosalie doesn’t flinch.

“I have never forgotten, it’s why we are so cautious.”

“Your caution is suffocating me! I cannot live a long a fulfilling life if you guys are protecting me at every moment. Besides it’s not life Paul and I are serious or anything.” Now Emmet twitches at your statement.

“What does that mean?” Your Pa’s jaw clenches at your insinuation.

“It doesn’t mean anything Pops, it just means you and Ma are so over protective that we haven’t gotten more serious.” Your voice waivers.

Too late the words have settled outside of your mouth and Emmet looks ready to commit murder.

“That filthy beast! I’ll kill him!” Emmet announces, trudging to the door with great anger and throwing open the glass door.

It took all members of the Cullen family to hold Emmet back from a rampage. The boys had no choice but to call in Bella for her new born strength to hold back the over protective papa bear.

But Rosalie stared at her daughter, ignoring her husband and his antics whilst Y/n yelled to calm down . It only felt like yesterday when Emmet and her picked up their new born adoptive daughter, enamoured with her tiny hands and squishy rounded cheeks. Now a grown woman yelling at her dad to back off her unlabelled lover.

Rosalie yearned to turn back time to relive the glory days of having a baby, but just like human life, time is flashy by too quickly and she just wasn’t ready to let her baby go.

But she had to, this was her baby’s rite of passage.

Y/n, is Rosalie’s and Emmets grown-up daughter, and it’s time Rosalie finally accepts it.

[aliesbienish]

Hi!! I was wondering if you could please write a Paul x reader where the reader is super pregnant and is hungry all the time and eats the most random stuff and the pack teases her about it until Paul puts his foot down and tells them to back off

Thank you! I’m really enjoying the study of wolves🤍

Hi lovely anon, thank you for this sweet request - I had a lot of fun writing it. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do x

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Recipe for Pack

There was no doubt who this baby belonged to, even in the womb. Since a few months into your pregnancy you’d been insatiably hungry, snacking continuously. Paul had always been the same, of course his excuse was his shifting. Unfairly that meant he got super hearing and strength while you needed to pee constantly and had nausea that rudely didn’t limit itself to the morning. So constant eating wasn’t an issue, it was the cravings that were becoming a hassle.

Paul, being a secret softie, had tried to cater to your every whim. Whether it was chocolate covered zucchini’s or melted cheese topped ice cream, he kept the judgement to a minimum. However these odd cravings did often lead to late night trips to the nearest 24 hour store located in Forks, a forty minute round trip. One particularly bad evening had him chauffeuring you 70 miles at 3am to Port Angeles, purely for a a chocolate milkshake and fries that got dipped into it. It was a miracle the machine wasn't broken.

But while Paul was nothing but accomodating, it couldn't always be said for the rest of his pack mates. Eating a hot dog with raspberry jam caused Jared to make vomiting noises. Adding leftover mash potato to a smore prompted Quil to question whether you needed a visit to a psychologist. Even sweetheart Seth made a quip that your cravings seemed like ingredients to a witches potion. Which was probably fair, as you munched on a buttered bread covered with rosemary.

But one comment, made sitting around Emily and Sam's dinning table took it too far.

Sitting with what to you seemed like a delightful combination of peanut butter and hot sauce bagels topped with orange slices, it was enough to elicit a groan.

"This seems to be getting way beyond normal now. I'm beginning to wonder if you are actually having these cravings or if you just like to make everyone else uncomfortable!" Jacob declared jokingly, but with your out of control emotions it was enough to stop you mid bite and feel shame.

"Right? I think next she'll just eat straight from the trash, it's not like she is far off!" Laughed Quil, causing laughter around the table.

Your eyes watered as you choked out "I'm sorry,"

"No, don't you dare apologise." Paul stated, gently placing his hands on your shoulders. "It's these morons who have no right to be teasing you." Turning to address the pack he gave them a hard stare. "You are all being absolute dicks. She's trying to survive extreme changes to her body, something we should be particularly understanding about, but instead your being rude and judgemental. If you all don't get your shit together and start being supportive then I will absolutely see if beating some sense into you in wolf form will help the process,"

The next evening you were all once again sitting around the dining table. The pack, showing their support, were all eating your newest and rather tame craving - chocolate covered bacon.

Sam got everyones attention and raised his fork in a toast "To our newest pack member,". The rest of the pack raised their own cutlery and echoed the sentiment.

This time the tears in your eyes were from happiness.

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[klaus-littlestwolf]

Lost Boys Sick!Mate Headcanon

(For whoever requested a Sick Mate Headcanon for the Lost Boys, I hope you enjoy this)

David

•David wants to change you immediately

•He hates seeing you sick, miserable or in any kind of pain and while most people wouldn’t believe David can be sympathetic, for you he very much is

•He has been trying to get you to turn for a long time and while this is a convenient way of convincing you, he really just wants you to get better

•David hasn’t been sick in…several hundred years. He’s the oldest out of the whole pack and so he remembers sickness the least of all of them, the only thing he can relate it to is not feeding for a long amount of time and he knows how painful that gets to be

•He would lay with you in the bed in the cave, whether you live with them in the cave yet or not, that is where you will be staying and you have no choice, he won’t let you be alone while you’re ill

•He often gives you massages whenever your muscles are achy, he knows how good it makes you feel and it makes him feel like he’s able to do something to help you, even if it’s just to relieve a small bit of your discomfort

•He’ll definitely make Marko go out to get you food, though he doesn’t know what kind of food since you keep insisting that you aren’t hungry

•David wants to care for you, he just has no clue how and if you weren’t sick as a dog, it might even be adorable how frazzled he is

Overall Grade of Care: 4/10

Dwayne

•Dwayne would be a major worrier every single time you get sick

•While he doesn’t remember what it’s like to personally be sick, he does remember his younger sister being sick when he was human and dying of a fever, so every time you’re even remotely warm he attempts to put you in an ice bath

•When you are bed ridden he is sure to make you stay in the cave, he’s always by your side and will often sit and read to you until you drift off to sleep

•He tries to keep you fed as much as you’ll allow with your upset stomach and he gives you plenty of water, to the point you wonder if vampires can survive being waterboarded cause you’re ready to kill him

•Dwayne is very much like David, he doesn’t know how to take care of a human that’s sick and he doesn’t understand that sometimes you just need to let an illness run it’s course

•Eventually he would buy some medicine at the store (Marko’s recommendation) and give it to you. He’s completely stunned by how quickly you finally fall asleep with how badly you’ve been coughing but the medicine works

Overall Grade of Care: 5.5/10

Paul

•Paul is chill when you get sick, he knows most of the time it’s just a little cold

•He gives you a few shots of whiskey and smokes a joint with you until you pass out, most of the time you wake up feeling better

•When you don’t however, he becomes frantic

•He will run around like a human having a manic episode. He makes sure you’re as comfortable as you can be, and if you’re not he goes to the store and buys more pillows and softer blankets. Hell get you new pajamas and more boxes of tissues than you’ll ever use

•He cleans the entire area you’re in as best he can in a cave, trying to get rid of germs that could make you sick all over again. It would be funny if you didn’t want to strangle him for moving so supernaturally fast that he makes you even more dizzy which makes your stuffy head hurt more

•He tries not to bother you too much, getting you to sleep as much as he can because apparently humans only heal when they’re sleeping so you need to sleep until you feel better

•He doesn’t quite understand that there’s a limit to how much NyQuil you can take

•Paul means well and he wants to help, he just goes too far with it most of the time

Overall Grade of Care: 7/10

Marko

•Marko is probably the best of the boys to have taking care of you when you’re ill

•He gets you medicine immediately and actually reads the instructions to give you the correct dosage

•He ensures you are comfortable in the bed, making sure to keep the blankets on when you’re cold and removing them if and when your fever gets too high

•When you’re too warm, which seems to be most of the time, he will strip to his boxers and crawl into bed with you, his cold skin making you feel better almost instantly

•He goes to the store and gets you whatever you want but also picks some things for you to make you feel better. He gets you your favorite tea bags to make you hot tea, the Chamomile helping to calm you and be able to sleep better, he also gets you some cans of coke to sip on when your stomach is upset

•He makes you soup everyday to keep you eating, even if you cant hold too much down, it’s not too heavy on your stomach

•Marko will also rent movies (and by rent I mean take them from Max’s store when he’s not looking) to bring back for you two to watch together to keep you entertained

•Marko was a human not too long ago, Paul being the only one younger than him, and he remembers very well how to take care of sick people, he is very good at making sure you get well as quickly as you can

Overall Grade of Care: 9.5/10

Lost Boys Masterlist

[dumbandfunn]

dealer! rafe leaving you alone for literally an hour and when he finally gets home barry trailing behind him, their quiet chatter about shipments slowly fading out as the front door swings open and temperature by sean paul is practically shaking the whole house. he’s scratching his neck like??!!!? and swinging open every possible door downstairs only to find you in the kitchen making something to eat, smile dropping off your face entirely when you notice just how annoyed he looks. and he nearly smashes poor alexa trying to turn her off eyes wide and waving his arms out dramatically like “the hell are you doin? the fuckin’ mainland could probably hear that shit” and you’re just like 🥺but i was listening to that. he doesn’t care though he’s pointing upstairs and now you have to scoot by them both like a dog that got caught eating the furniture and you’re good and quiet for the rest of the day in his room cause you just know you’re getting the telling off of your life

and when he does come upstairs later you’re all pouty and glassy eyed looking up at him all like “but rafe why are you actually mad at me i didnt do anything?” and you eventually get him to crack, he’s huffing out a laugh and pursing his lips to hide his smile because hes not even actually sure?? hes confusing sometimes he just likes to be mean for funsies

[p0lyn3sian]

how would the slashers react when their jealous or sulking?

THIS ONE IS GOING TO BE INTERESTING YALL!!!

(Ahem, this drabble was definitely not rushed 🌚)

Slashers: Norman, RZ Michael, Thomas & Bubba, Chucky (Charles) & Tiffany, Billy & Stu, Jason, Sinclair Brothers (Bo, Vincent, & Lester), Carrie, Brahms & Billy Lenz, & The Lost Boys (David, Dwayne, Paul & Marko)!

S/O reacting to slashers when they're jealous/sulking!

Norman:

You love helping Norman around with the motel! You decided to be a receptionist, since Norman is going to take a break talking for a little while. While being the receptionist, you have to deal with rude, nice, and drunk people.. One of your customers was drunk, he decided to flirt with you right in front of Norman.

Most of his flirting was just sexual stuff at you. You were going to tell him to back off, but Norman took care of it. Instead of taking care of it the normal way, he smacked the man's head with a standing hanger for coats, leaving him on the floor with a bleeding spot on his head. (DRUNK MAN GOT K.O. BY NORMAN 💀.)

Realizing that it was his mother's personality that killed the man that was on the floor. You immediately calmed down his mother's persona and then Norman came back to you! He also saw the man on the floor, and looked back up at you and asked if it was his mother that did this. You nodded your head and you both then started to take the body somewhere in the forest. You both then head back into the motel, and Norman makes a hot tea for you to calm your nerves down, and that made you relaxed!

RZ Michael:

You are Michael's nurse, since none of the nurses wanted to be his caretaker. Michael has grown fond of you, because you don't care what anyone says and what you do! You would always give him praises of his arts and crafts, like his masks, drawings, etc!

Sometimes guards call you a weirdo for falling the likes of Michael, which you didn't give a single fuck. You mostly just ignore what people would say to you about Michael, even Dr. Loomis.. His book that he made about Michael is just full of shit, and just makes people more scared of him too. Some of the pages are true about Michael, but most were just pulled out of his ass! Like where did this old doctor get, "He likes to drink toilet water when he is young.." like you know damn well that those words came out of his ass and out onto his book like it was nothing.

There was this guard that likes you, but only sexually because he leaves so many women/men behind and finds new women/men to be his little toy. Which in no way in hell that you'll be his "toy" to play around with! While you were in the lunch room with Michael, Michael would always look at the guard that had been staring at him and you. Sometimes Michael tries to speak to you, but he decides not to, so you then turn around to see the same guard looking at you! You calmed down Michael saying that you could handle it.. (You full on kicked the guard in the nuts, put your hands on his neck and whammed him to the ground 🤣!!)

Thomas & Bubba:

You love these two so much, because of their personalities and their hands! Their hands are bigger than yours and you would always want to hold their hands or most likely squeeze their hand like it's a toy! You love to hangout with bubba by doing his makeup, dress up, or just doing something that he likes! You also love to hangout or help out with Thomas and his chores, sometimes he doesn't need your help with carrying the two big hays onto his shoulder for the cows to eat, it'll always make you blush because of his broad shoulders!

When these two are together, it's like a big scary dog and just a happy little dog! Thomas and Bubba would go with you and Mama Luda at work, because sometimes at home they have nothing to do. You and Luda work at the little gas station where you'll see people that are tourists/people that pass or mostly bikers that live here.. One of those bikers thought it was OKAY to flirt with you right in front of Thomas and Bubba! This biker must had some balls to do that right in front of these two!

While he was flirting with you, you then looked at Thomas and bubba, and those two were sharing looks at each other. You knew what was going to happen to this man, and it was going to be really painful for him.. You shoved the man to Thomas and Bubba, and did a little wave at him. These two immediately took him outside somewhere behind the gas station and started beating the fuck out of him. (After work, these two then got so many kisses and praises from you!!)

Chucky & Tiffany:

These two would be giving death glares at the person that's talking to you. The person decided to start flirting with you, after you helped them with the directions to the bathroom.. Unfortunately the man thought you were by yourself, which you were not at all, until Chucky and Tiffany came from behind the man.

Chucky put one of his hands on top of the dude's shoulder in a tight grip. He dragged the dude into the bathroom for a little "pep" talk. Tiffany then asked you questions if he was weird or if he was touching you, etc. One of you and Tiffany's favorite song came on, and immediately you and Tiffany danced together on the dance floor! (Meanwhile, Chucky did a full on martial arts on the dude, in the bathroom 💀.)

Chucky then came out of the bathroom, and saw that you and Tiffany were dancing together. He loved watching you two have fun, just smiling and laughing with no care at all! The song then ended, which you and Tiffany were breathing heavily and just laughing from all the dancing you both did! Chucky then walked to both of you and asked if it was time to go. You nodded and Tiffany answered with a yes. All three of you then walked out of the bar and headed home, laughing and smiling!

Billy & Stu:

With Billy and Stu, if there was a dude that decided to make flirtatious comments about what you are wearing. Billy would start giving him death glares and Stu would stop being goofy and give him death glares too. It sometimes scares you that Stu isn't laughing or goofing around anymore and acts like a twin of Billy.

These two are always jealous of someone talking to you. They pulled you away from the dude that was still flirting and walked over to the cafeteria for food. While you were busy eating and not paying attention, Billy went to where the dude was and started walking up to him. Stu grabbed your attention to make you laugh or talk about school and stuff.

Stu didn't get lunch, because he was in the negatives and he hasn't even paid a single penny on his lunches. So, Stu ate a big bite of your food and ate it in front of your face! Which made you sad and angry at him, you then didn't want to give Stu your attention anymore, because he ate your food! Stu poked and called your name, but you wouldn't even budge! Stu then started poking you at your sides, because that was where your ticklish spot was! You laughed and laughed and told Stu to stop, but he wouldn't so you smacked his hands for him to stop. You and Stu then laughed together, until Billy came out of nowhere and scared you two! (It scared you and Stu, and you knew it was a good scare because Stu screams like a girl if the scare really got him 🌚!!)

Jason:

Jason doesn't talk, only in sign language or through his body! You were glad that he had books of ASL so you knew what he was saying through his hand signs. There was an upcoming date where there was a party throwing here at camp crystal. Young adults these days don't understand that people are dying and being missing here at camp crystal, but their brains decided to say 'Fuck that, I just want to party and have fun!' and they die anyways once Jason kills them.

You told Jason that you wanted to see what the party would look like, and Jason then started shaking his head 'no' really fast. He hated the thought of you making out with another person, and it always makes Jason jealous! Jason would say some things about parties from his mother in sign language, and you thought it was really wholesome for Jason to look out for you! Instead going to the party, you told Jason that you would help him with the killing since you went to the store to buy some stuff for the cabin. You overheard a group of three girls that were in probably college, saying that the party will be a really big party. Almost a 100 of those students wanted to go, maybe a little more than that..

It was really cold outside, so everyone was inside the big cabin for the big party. You went around the big cabin locking all doors and windows, so that no one will get out once Jason goes and kills everyone in there. Jason already went inside before you did all the locking, you walked to a nearby window where no one could see you, and saw that Jason then struck at the first person he saw. Screams are being heard everywhere in the cabin, some people tried opening the door to run away, but it wouldn't budge so they ended up dying. After all the killing, you made hot chocolate for Jason and made snacks for him too!

Sinclair Brothers:

You would help Bo with the "tourists" that are coming by and just talk to them about the house of wax or something else. You'll also be with Vincent while he's waxing people, and you mostly just want to see his beautiful waxing! You also love hanging out with Lester and his dog, Jonsey! You and Lester will be driving around somewhere to get more stuff for the house, and come back to ambrose.

You and Lester left Ambrose to get more food for you guys, early in the morning. Coming back to ambrose, there was a group who were standing outside of their car. You and Lester realized their car was broken down, so the group asked you both if they could come with you both and make a phone call for a mechanic. You knew what Lester was going to say, and it was a yes. The group hopped into the car, 3 people in the back and one person that was sitting on the right side of you. It was a lady that was sitting by the right side of you, and the other 3 were all men. (You kinda wanted to ask her what she was doing with 3 men, but you also realized that you are with 3 men too, so you didn't want to ask her that 🌚.)

Driving back to ambrose, one of those 3 men started flirting with you. His flirting was starting to get on your nerves and Lester's too, you looked at Lester and saw that his hands on the wheel were gripping, which means that he is getting annoyed and mad at him, and also jealous. You didn't respond to his questions, so he lost interest in doing so. While arriving in Ambrose, Lester got out of his car and held his hand out for you, the girl on the right was jealous because of how Lester is a gentleman, instead of her own boyfriend. The other 2 are her boyfriend's friends and they don't act like a gentleman either. Lester whispered into your ear that he'll be right back, and he walked to get Bo. You lead them to the gas station for them to "call". The same man before started flirting with you again, and he's asking for his ass to be killed, because Bo walked inside and saw him flirting and touching you! (You and Bo killed the other 3 and you left the man that flirted with you to Bo, Vincent, and Lester to torture him.)

Carrie:

Carrie is so sweet to you! You love hanging out with Carrie, because she's not really loud or annoying. She would also listen to your problems whenever you talk to her! Your friends always like to talk to you and not pay attention to Carrie and socialize with her. So, Carrie stays silent and listens to what your friends say.

You get angry at them for not including Carrie! You include people that walk behind your group of friends or when they're not in the conversation. You walked away from your friend group for not including Carrie as you specifically said to include her! Your friend group kept on calling your name to come back, and that they will include Carrie! Well, they haven't.. because some days when you don't show up to school, you would always tell Carrie if they hangout with her, but she would reply with a no.

So, you had enough of your friend group's attitude. They were all a bunch of assholes anyways, because they've lost some really good friends in the group, just from not really talking to them and acting like they don't know them either.. and you decided to do the same thing they've done too. Carrie was really surprised that you ignored your friend group, she asked you where you were taking her. You told her that you are taking her to another group of friends that you have. In that group were the good friends! They saw you immediately and waved at you as well as Carrie too! Carrie then started hanging out with your new friend group and you! She's really happy that she found friends that are really kind just like you!

Brahms & Billy Lenz:

You live in Brahms mansion with Billy too, so seeing Malcolm the grocery boy, makes these two really jealous. Malcolm likes chatting with you about other things instead of groceries. Chatting with Malcolm could lead to things for Brahms and Billy, killing him in front of you or torturing him, either one.. You always feel their presence, like how they give off their stares at you and Malcolm!

You would try and get Malcolm to start talking a little bit faster than usual. You would have to make up things, saying that you have to vacuum the big living room or something else than that. So, Malcolm would try speaking a little bit faster, until Brahms started to bang on the walls. Brahms is an impatient man and Billy is kinda in between. Either way, it freaked out you and Malcolm, Malcolm wanted to investigate what it was. But, you pushed him away from the bangs and pushed him outside of the mansion.

Malcolm was surprised why you pushed him outside, you said your goodbye to Malcolm and closed the door immediately. Brahms and Billy got out of their hiding spot, and both of them looked at you because it was your fault for letting a guest inside, especially Malcolm.. You had to deal with Brahms tantrum, and Billy's ranting saying that you'll leave him and Brahms, etc. You calm down Billy first and deal with Brahms' tantrum next. After these two have calmed down, you then wanted to go to sleep, even though it was the afternoon, but you were really tired trying to calm down Brahms and Billy. They both got in bed with you, snuggling too close and closing their arms around you tightly, so that you wouldn't leave..

The Lost Boys:

You and the boys decided to go to the boardwalk on a Friday night! All the boys were hungry and needed to eat, so they decided to go to the boardwalk with you! While the boys are looking for their next food, you decided to walk to your favorite place for food since you were hungry too. Walking to your favorite food place, you have caught someone's attention. That someone started to follow you, asking weird questions that just makes you cringe..

The man kept on asking you questions, like "are you alone", "do you need someone to cuddle", all that weird shit. You ignored the man, because those questions just make you cringe. The boys definitely knew that somebody was close by their mate, and could hear far away from where they were. They all flew, once the coast was clear, to you. You got your food and sat down, realizing that you could sense the boys. The man still kept annoying you with those questions, until the boys came by.

The boys gave a scary look at the man that was bothering you, and they already knew who their dinner was for tonight. You got up and took your food and walked with your boys back to the cave, because you wanted to eat peacefully without any questions coming out of an asshole's mouth. You all arrived in the cave and you settled in and ate your food, the boys said they'll be right back, and you knew that they were going to eat that man. (They definitely did eat him, and probably made his bones out of necklaces, etc 💀.)

[latenightdaydreams]

WereWolf!König x New!Girl Pt2

Part 1

MDNI🔞

Master List ✍🏽

>cw: fem/afab, forceful, transformation, oral

1.7k word count

🐺

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The very next morning, König wakes up feeling invigorated. There is a peep in his step as he jumps out of bed, your scent lingers on his body. He can’t control his thoughts about you. The simple fact that he can’t be there with you right now is driving him insane. All he wants to do is rub his hands over every single inch of you.

While he usually only goes to the market once a week, he has to go back. Going straight to your home would be too obvious; too weird. The day seems to drag on until it’s late in the afternoon. He showers and quickly gets dressed to rush to the store.

You’re physically at work, but mentally miles away. On the side of your neck is a thick layer of make-up, hiding the bite marks from last night. It’s been a slow day so it’s easy to get lost in thought. When you squat down to restock, you feel a stinging pain shoot through your vagina. You tore, badly. As your eyes stare off into the distance, you accidently place toilet paper in the wrong spot.

“Y/n, hey. What are you doing?” Your uncle comes up behind you, chuckling at your mistake.

“Oh, sorry.” You snap out of it and pull the product back onto the cart. “I’m just so out of it today.”

“Are you doing okay?”

Just as you’re about to answer, the sound of a door shutting outside the store catches your attention. You stand to look over, seeing König walking towards the front door. Frank leaves your side to go greet his friend. A disappointed huff leaves your lips; you really needed to speak to someone.

“König! Did you forget something?”

“Ja, I did.” König chuckles, his eyes instantly landing on you as you walk back to the cash register.

“Well, I’m always glad to have your money.” Frank jokes.

König laughs, his eyes still on you. You linger behind the cash register now, seemingly far away. Hopefully thinking about your night together. He hates the restrictions of human civilization, forcing him to simply smile and nod in your direction as he continues on into the store; stopping where he can watch you from a distance.

“Uncle Frank, can we keep talking?”

“Yup!” He walks back to you and leans against the counter.

“Can you please listen to me without judgment?” You whisper, but König can still hear you.

“Absolutely.”

“I know you said there are no wolves around here, but last night I think one bit me.”

“What? A wolf?” Frank says loudly.

“Shh!” You place your finger over your lips. “Please be quiet. Can you please stay with me? I don’t want to leave alone.”

“Sweety, there are no wolves around here. You only think it bit you? Maybe it was a German Shepherd? Farmer Paul has one that’s a real ass—”

“It wasn’t a dog. It was massive.”

Frank shifts his weight and grabs his keys from his front pocket before letting out a sigh. He knows that you’ve been through a lot lately, but he doesn’t know what to say to you right now. König walks forward and approaches the two of you.

“I’m sorry to intrude, but did you say that a dog attacked you?”

You can feel yourself blush, feeling as if he will think that you’re crazy too. “A wolf.”

“And there aren’t any around here.” Frank says.

“No, there aren’t.” König looks at you and the worry in your eyes. If only he could reassure you that you’re safe with him. “But there is no harm in being safe. I could stay here with you while you close up.”

“I don’t want to be a burden.”

“It’s really not an issue. I have no plans.” König gives you a warm comforting smile.

“Thank you, König.” Frank pats his shoulder.

“Not a problem.”

The last twenty minutes of work pass by quickly for you. König turns out to be a very flirtatious man, his charming smile and hypnotizing blue eyes making the fear of last night’s incident slip far away in your mind. While he may be a bit older than you, you find yourself beginning to like him in an odd way.

“It’s getting dark.” König says, looking out of the window before looking back at you. His once bright blue eyes now darkened, turning a deep yellow. The change is coming, and you’re trapped in here with him.

“It is.” You say as your back is turned to him. “I just have to go grab my keys and I’m ready to…leave.” Your voice drifts off as you turn to see König taking deep breaths, his eyes now animalistic.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you today, Maus.” König’s voice has turned raspy as his teeth grow.

“Y- y—” Words escape you as panic takes over your body.

“Don’t be afraid, please.” König slightly hunched over as you watch in horror. Skin falls from his body, replaced by the thick dark fur you remember from last night. His hands grow long claws that scratch the wall as he tries to balance himself.

A blood curdling scream bursts from your lips as König lets out loud groans of pain. Without a second thought you quickly turn on your feet and rush towards the break room door. Your feet carry you across the floor, just able to get to the door and slam it shut. Your fingers shake as you lock the door and rush to your locker to grab your keys.

From the other side of the solid wood door, you hear a loud howl. The sound makes your stomach flip. You stand still, not moving as you listen for any movement. For some reason you thought that he would give up and go hunt, but you’re proven wrong when you hear a loud banging against the door.

“Open.” König hits the door again, impatient and not wanting to play any games.

 “König! Please stop!” Your voice shakes.

“Mine. Open now.”

The next hit cracks the door, your eyes dart to the small window a few feet off the ground. While you might not fit, it's your only way out at this point. You rush to the collapsible table and drag underneath the window; watching your step you climb up and unlock the window. It opens so you turn yourself to the side and start to pull yourself out.

König continues to bang on the door, ready to break in to get to you. He knows once he can get his teeth on your neck you will calm down for him. Just then he hears a thud. His ears perk up before he turns and runs out of the shop quickly. In the dark night he looks around, spotting you running towards your car. Last time was too close, this time he has to be faster.

You get yourself off of the floor quickly, running to your car. As you reach in your pocket for your key, you realize the keys feel when you dropped from the window. “Fuck!” You should as you turn back to grab them. Just as you do, König appears around the corner and just stares at you, breathing heavily. He stands on two feet and holds a hand out for you to accept.

König looks into your eyes. As much as you want to deny him, he knows that you’re attracted to his human form and he knows you enjoyed begin fucked like a wild animal. Yet, that silly human brain wants to reject what it doesn’t understand. You turn and run. He watches you for a few seconds as you take off across the open field before taking off after you.

In no time he is right behind you, jumping to knock you off of your feet. You both crash to the ground, but he quickly recovers and mounts your much smaller body under his. He sticks his wet nose in the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent again. He grabs a fist full of your hair and turns your face towards his.

“Mine.” He growls as he sits you up.

You gaze up at him as he stands. He gets closer to you, letting his erect, leaking cock linger in front of your face. A part of you is disgusted by the sight and smell, wanting to turn away and turn. There is another part of you that just wants to reach out and grab it. A small gasp leaves your lips when he grabs your hair again and tilts your head back.

König steps forward and pushes your face into his groin. The strong smell of his musk consumes your nostrils as his long cock rests along your face, his balls pressing against your mouth. You try to shake your head back and forth, to pull away; but you can’t. He holds you there longer for every moment you struggle.

“Lick.”

You part your mouth slightly, letting the tip of your tongue pass back and forth. His sweaty skin is salty, but you find yourself enjoying it. Slowly open your mouth more and let out more of your tongue to lick over his heavy balls.

König looks down at you with a pleased feeling. You’re finally giving into what you know you desire. He pulls back, dragging his cock across your face and down your tongue. A small growl leaves him as he watches your pretty lips carefully wrap around the head of his cock and sucking lightly. His hips push forward, shoving more of his cock into your mouth.

Your hands shoot to his thighs as you gag from him shoving his cock in too far. Tears begin to pool in your eyes as you try to maintain your composure. The girth of his cock causes your jaw to tire quickly, but you don’t dare try to pull away. Thick globs of spit fall from your mouth and fall on to your shirt.

When he pulls back, you cough and gasp for air. You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand as you pant. He watches you try to gather yourself, feeling proud of you for how well you’ve calmed down. His arms wrap around your body, lifting you up, and walking you into the woods so he can fuck you in his den.

[goodoldfashionlovercorpse]

Casual (pt. 2)

pairing: Sirius Black x slytherin! potter! reader

summary: Y/n Potter has been in love with Sirius for as long as she's known him. During their 6th year at Hogwarts, they start hooking up. Sirius declares it casual, but are they both truly ok with this secret?

a/n: this is part two of my Sirius series! hope you enjoy. @hisparentsgallerryy and @planets-and-stars thanks for the support !!

warnings: angst, secret fwb situationship, jealousy, explicit language

Classes went on as normal: a few people passed while others clung for dear life. Unfortunately, Y/n shared a class with him, the one she fell for. She couldn’t pinpoint why she was glaring at him, maybe it was what Lucius had told her. All Sirius did was pretend she didn’t exist until the night. Somehow, he pays more attention to class when she’s in the room. James had sat next to her. She always felt guilty for hooking up with his best friend, he was such a good brother. Even when she was sorted, he bragged about his sister proudly, flaunting the fact she was the brains to his brawns. Sirius got paired with Snape, who was sending her glances that screamed “Help!” every time Sirius said something dumb. Gods, why did she stare at his lips? She always sent Snape a sorrowful expression, reassuring it’s just a partnership for the week. Potions had to be Snape’s and Sirius’s best class, so she didn’t worry that much.

“Ok, so, this week we’ll be brewing Amortentia. It’s powerful, so no one is allowed to drink any of it. Got that?” Slughorn asked, receiving hums from every student, “Right, now turn to page 201 and get started, you have all your ingredients set up. Have fun and remember, the first 3 groups to finish receive 5 house points each!”

As soon as Slughorn finished, James turned to the page. “Alright, I’ll dictate, you add. This should be finished by today, then ready by tomorrow.”

Y/n added the rose thorns, the pearl dust, and all the other ingredients, slowly stirring them. The twins looked at each other with puzzling gazes. “How is this gonna take people a week?”

“Maybe he wants it perfect?”

“Maybe.”

As the pair finished, Slughorn came behind them 20 minutes later. He congratulated the two and encouraged them to sniff. “What do you smell?”

James chimed up first, “Books, tea, that sweet scent of spring.” Ever the romantic, he described. From scents to scenarios, he gushed for 10 minutes as Lily stared at him, smiling. He played with his hands and then blushed once he was done. Turning to his sister, “And you, sis?”

Y/n went near and sniffed. She knew what she smelled, she knew who she smelled. But if Slytherins are taught one thing, it’s acting. “Some leather, a bit of peanut butter, and… dog?” She tried not to scrunch her nose, trying hard to come up with something, anything, to find someone else to match. Sirius was staring at her, his gaze locked on hers. “Maybe it’s Paul McCartney?” the crowd laughed. She stared at Sirius, no smile present on either faces.

Soon three more groups described their scents, the last one being Snape and Sirius. Snape described a simple smell, but she knew he smelled nothing, love just wasn’t his thing. Sirius, on the other hand, tried to finish it quickly. His hands were on his neck, resting on thin air as he bragged bout perfume and chocolate. The very things she liked. “I guess there’s the scent of a night out, doing makeup and dress-ups or whatnot,” he added, the corner of his eye directed at her. James was puzzled, staring Sirius down with pressed brows. She continued looking at Sirius’s table, seeing how Snape tried hiding under the table as girls came flocking towards their table. 

“That’s so romantic!”

“I need to buy more perfume…”

“Hey, Sirius, wanna go out?”

Before you knew it, they were being whisked off by Prof. Slughorn to go to their desks. As class ended, only four out of ten groups had finished, much to her surprise. She started packing up, getting ready for her next class. Snape came up to her as James went over to Sirius. “Can’t believe I got paired with him.”

She shrugged, “You’re both top students, it can’t have been that bad.”

“It is when you’re stared at by everyone  to smell something that’s not there.”

“Hey, everyone believed you.” she pats his back and smiles, gaining a half smile from Snape. The two went out of class, having no clue of Sirius staring at them, a layer of jealousy coated in his gaze. One that didn't go unnoticed by James. The Potter shoved his friend, mumbling something about ‘brotherly duties’. Perhaps tonight will be the night… then again, it was always casual.

Y/n and Snape went along with their classes, being joined by their other friends, but mainly just Lucius. Lucius was quite excited about the Ravenclaw party, and Snape planned on studying. Both gave her a glance, though. A sort of questioning look. “He’ll be there,” Lucius said.

She shrugged, looking down. It wouldn’t have made a difference, she would seen him tonight regardless of whether she attended, that’s how they worked. “I’ll probably go to help James and Lily.” she earned a shrug from Lucius, the other male yapping about homework and studies.

“We should start preparing for our test next week, though.”

“Relax, Sev, that’s days ahead.”

At least friendships weren’t casual, Y/n thought, laughing along with Lucius and hugging Snape. They departed at the common rooms, her having to go up. She smiled, maybe tonight will be about her.

[britany1997]

Hi! I saw that requests were open, and I was hoping I could requests Poly!Lost boys (or/and with Michael if you can!) with a reader who’s owns a bakery? The boys take notice of a new shop on the boardwalk and peek in to see you.

(Reader is GN, and likes to dress cutesy as well!)

If You Give A Vampire A Cookie…

AHHHHH Michael my love🥺 yes of course I can write this for you💕💕 hope you like it!

Poly! Lost boys & Michael x GN cutesy Reader

🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇

A bundle of black leather flashed down the boardwalk as Paul zoomed around. Marko was on his heels, laughing and trailing after him, “I told you we should have put him on one of those animal backpack leashes,” Marko called back at Dwayne as Dwayne followed the two blonds.

“If he doesn’t behave he’ll find himself on a different kind of leash.” Dwayne warned.

“Ooh Paul, hear that? you’re in trouble,” Marko singsonged.

“Yeah jokes on you Dwayne, I like that shit!” Paul yelled back as he ran.

Dwayne groaned.

David smirked as he watched Dwayne attempt to control the chaos twins on his own. David much preferred to hang back, his hand possessively wrapped around Michael’s neck as the two strolled along the boardwalk.

“Stay close pet, don’t want you running off like those two,” David cooed at Michael.

Michael rolled his eyes and slithered out of David’s grip, “I’m not a child David, I think I can manage myself on the boardwalk,” he paused, “and I’m not your pet either.”

David chuckled to himself, “whatever you wanna tell yourself love,” he said as he slid his arm around Michael’s waist, pulling him against his side.

He leaned in to whisper in Michael’s ear, “but I know you don’t mind what I call you when we’re at home. Maybe you’re just a house pet huh baby?”

Michael shivered as he felt his cheeks flush pink

“Stop it,” he whispered back nervously.

David pouted in reply, “thought you liked it when i played with you pretty boy.”

Michael’s blush deepened, “can’t you keep it in your pants till we get home?”

David smirked, “what can I say, you’re irresistible.”

Michael smiled softly as David leaned in.

“HEY GUYS,” Paul’s booming voice broke the pair away from their sweet moment.

“This better be good,” David grumbled.

Paul tapped his foot as he waited for the others to catch up.

Marko and Dwayne slowed to a stop in front of the blond boy, David and Michael not far behind. They looked curiously as Paul gestured to a little white shop they’d never seen before.

As the other four boys took in the sight, Paul pressed his face up against the giant window at the front of the store. He admired the pretty cakes, beautifully frosted and decorated with plastic floral arrangements. He drooled over the warm brownies wrapped in cellophane and tied with pink bows. But his eyes widened when he caught sight of the rows and rows of cookies displayed in a tray behind the glass. He’d swear he could already taste them.

He turned back to his boyfriends, “please, please, please can we go in and get something? I’ve been so good lately!” he begged.

Dwayne scoffed, “no you haven’t.”

Paul dropped to his knees and inched towards Dwayne, his hands clasped together, “please please please please,” Paul chanted, giving Dwayne his best puppy dog eyes, those always seemed to make him cave.

Dwayne sighed as Marko bit his thumb to keep from laughing. “David, what do you think? We got time before morning?”

David checked his watch, his arm still around Michael’s waist, “yeah we got time.”

“Yes!” Paul whisper-cheered to himself.

“Not so fast blondie,” David raised an eyebrow, “you got bakery money?”

Paul’s demeanor deflated as he looked through his shoe and cringed. “Michael?” he asked sweetly.

Michael rolled his eyes but smiled, “yes Paul?”

Paul pouted at Michael, jutting his bottom lip out and furrowing his brows.

Michael laughed, “ok fine,” he walked over to hand Paul a five dollar bill.

Paul sprang up and wrapped his arms around Michael, kissing him squarely on the mouth.

“I love you Michael!” Paul exclaimed as he pulled away.

Michael smiled and blushed, “I love you too Paul.”

Paul smiled and skipped into the store, Michael’s five dollars in hand, while David crossed his arms and grumbled.

Dwayne bumped David with his elbow as Marko and Michael slipped through the door. “C’mon, they need constant supervision,” he reminded David.

“Been tryna kiss him all night but nooo crazy blond shakes him down and he gets a smooch. Bullshit.” David mumbled under his breath as he followed Dwayne inside.

As David passed through the doorway his jaw dropped.

Michael, Marko, and Paul were already crowded around the counter talking to the most attractive human he’d ever seen (besides Michael of course).

You were wearing the palest pink uniform, and the brightest smile. He found himself absolutely transfixed.

As he approached his circle of boyfriends, he heard Paul’s persistent flirting.

“All these snacks baby but you gotta be the sweetest thing in here,” Paul winked, leaning over the counter.

You blushed, “that’s so kind of you to say, can I get you anything?”

“Yeah honey, give me three sugar cookies, I’m not real liquid right now…” he said as he hid the fiver in his back pocket, “you take kisses?”

You smirked and laughed, “I take money.”

He mock-pouted, “that’s ok sugar, I was gonna give ‘em to you for free anyway.”

Paul leaned in, but was caught by the back of the collar by Michael. “Sorry about him,” he said blushing.

Michael swiped the money from Paul’s back pocket and handed it to you, “for the sugar cookies,” he said, flustered.

“I’ll bring them right out,” you smiled.

Michael sighed wistfully as he watched you turn to grab the cookies from the back.

“What the hell man?” Paul asked, “I was about to seal the deal!”

“Paul,” Dwayne interjected, “what did we say about kissing strangers?”

“It’s fun?” Paul guessed.

“Don’t do it.” Dwayne and Michael corrected at the same time.

Paul pouted.

You pushed past the double doors, your arms filled with sweets.

“You all are the first customers I’ve had since I opened so I threw in a couple extra things,” you blushed.

You handed Paul the three sugar cookies, leaning over the counter to kiss his cheek.

He flashed you a dopey smile as his hand flew to his cheek. “I’ll never wash this cheek again,” he sighed.

You giggled, “I sure hope that’s not true, you’d think you’d wanna keep a pretty face like that clean.”

It was taking all of Paul’s self-control not to jump over the counter and shower you with sloppy wet kisses.

You turned to Marko handing him a Sfogliatella. His eyes widened in shock, “I love Sfogliatella! I haven’t been able to find them anywhere,” he told you.

“My grandma’s recipe,” you smiled, “I love them too, I haven’t really seen ‘em anywhere in the U.S., so why not make them myself.”

Marko melted.

You looked at Dwayne, placing a chocolate chip cookie in his hand. “Dark chocolate chips instead of milk chocolate,” you told him.

“For a richer flavor?” he asked, eyebrow raised.

“Exactly!” you beamed, “thought you’d like it.”

His lips turned up into a half-smile, “thank you, that’s so thoughtful.”

You moved to Michael and offered him a big, gooey, brownie.

He blushed as he took it from your outstretched hands, “these are my favorite, how’d you know?” he furrowed his brow in confusion.

You shrugged, “call it baker’s intuition, you strike me as a brownie guy.”

He blushed, “talk about a sixth sense,” he mumbled, “you really are the sweetest thing in here.”

Your face flushed at his words as Paul grumbled that Michael had ‘stolen his line.’

David cleared his throat, “nothin for me love?” he raked his eyes over your form.

You laughed, “you just didn’t strike me as a sweets guy,” you clarified as you poured him a cup of coffee.

When you finished, you offered him the styrofoam cup, which he took from your gratefully.

“Clever little thing aren’t you?” he flirted.

“I like to think so,” you winked.

David’s smile spread across his whole face, “well if you aren’t the cutest thing…” he trailed off as he leaned on the counter.

Dwayne cleared his throat, prompting David to check his watch. Shit. Sunrise was coming.

He frowned, “gotta get goin’ sweet but we’ll be back,” he promised, winking.

You bit your lip, “I hope so, I’m here every night.”

You blushed as each boy reluctantly pulled themselves away and strolled out the door.

You couldn’t help but think moving your business to Santa Carla was the smartest decision you’d ever made.

🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇

Taglist❤️:

@consuming-karma @misslavenderlady @ghoulgeousimmaculate @6lostgirl6 @bloodywickedvamp @pixielostboy @gothamslostboy @dwaynesluscioushair @paulxbathbomd @sidefanficaccounttohidemyshame @warrior-616 @anna1306 @riz-coolgirl @flower-crowned-lady @feardot-com @its-freaking-bats @solobagginses @vampirefilmlover @lostboys1987girl @cherryfrostbites

[purplelupins]

Lamb

Midnight Mass

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI

Father John Pruitt/Father Paul hill x fem!reader

Word count:12.3k

Summery: An entire life of being a good girl was a difficult cross to carry...especially in a tiny town with 127 residents on a good day. You kept the town fed and spirits as high as you could, but when a new face steps off the afternoon Breeze, things around you start to change; you don't even know you're in the eye of the storm.

Warnings: nsfw, reader is religious, religious symbolism, ideology, explanations and general conversations of religion, age gap (like this man is 80 technically and he watched reader grow up, and can remember reader as a little girl so if that’s creepy to you then go no further), stalking, manipulation, murder (hello have you seen the show?), drinking of blood, hunting of a person, grief, description of animal death, reader is described as blushing, character death, non consensual help showering, guilt and god maybe more but I think that’s it…this is not really a fix it fic

Notes:

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You were never a fan of when Beverly was given the opportunity to lead worship. You never felt fully untuned- half of the time it felt more akin to a scolding lesson in school than a reminder of Him. She liked to highlight “them and us” between believers and non believers of Crockett. Somehow she always managed to spin things into belittling those who didn’t attend church, and those days were always a little…tense. This was a time of worshiping and remembering God, not a time of a hierarchy.

“Here we are again. Back to normal. Funny how the pews empty back out once everyone has their ashes, isn’t it?” She paused as if to ridicule the non-churchgoers.

You pursed your lips as she continued, and found yourself looking at small details around the church. Chips in the paint, the crosses, the windows, Father Paul gazing at you-

Startled, you looked back to where you had just been looking and sure enough you caught the Father flicking his eyes away just in time as he bowed his head. You stared at him for a moment, but he was fixated on the rosary in his hand.

Had you imagined it?

You kept your eyes down for the rest of the morning, and ridiculed yourself for thinking the Father would look at you. Why would that be a thought that entered your mind? You didn’t even stop to speak with him after church.

If you had looked behind you, however, you would have seen the Father’s forlorn gaze flickering to your form during his conversations- distracted. He turned back to the islander he spoke to and flashed them a tight smile as they moved on and he spoke to the next person, but John felt a hollowness in his gut, and he wasn’t certain it was from hunger.

Even that night when John went for a stroll down the island like he used to, he stopped several yards from your house and forced himself to turn around. He muttered prayers under his breath the entire way back to the rectory, and knelt before the cross on his wall for another hour before he slept.

“Sheriff? Sheriff!” You yelled as you stepped off your bike at the marina the next morning. You needed a couple things from the Mainland, and had a short list you hoped Hassan would be able to get for you during his time there for his Friday prayer.

The man turned, hand on his hip, “Morning to you too.”

“I have a favour?” You gave him your best puppy dog eyes and clasped your hands in front of you.

Hassan rolled his eyes and huffed but you could tell it was a show, “Out with it.”

“I’m just out of a couple things for the shop and you can get them all at this store- I wrote the address down and the list and it’s close to the mosque you go to! Please? There’s some cash in there too.” You held an envelope out hopefully.

He stared at you for a long moment, then slowly took the paper from you, “This isn’t going to be a habit right?”

“Thank you! Thank you thank you, I promise it won’t.” You bounced.

He fixed you another look, but you knew he was smiling a little under that moustache.

“You’re the best!” You called to him when you hopped back on your bike, “Oh! This is for you.” You reached into the basket and retrieved a brown paper bag.

Hassan smiled a little.

“One muffin and a berry tart.” You returned his smile.

He relented. “Fine, fine. I’ll be back this afternoon.” He grumbled.

“Have a safe trip!” You called, “And hey, you really should wash that jean jacket, Sheriff or it might walk away on its own one day!” You quipped and began pedaling away.

Hassan shook his head. He liked having you around. You were a breath of fresh air amongst the stale islanders, and he hoped he could call you a friend one day.

You knew you were cutting it close for Mass, so you sped your way across the island and up the hill to St. Patrick’s where you were happy to see still a few people filing in. You laid your bike down beside the church and jumped up the steps to go and find your spot. One of the perks of a small town was every person had their spot that they sat in- you never had to fight over it.

Your shoulders deflated slightly when Bev took her place atop the pulpit and began the service. “Our responsorial psalm today is Psalm 27. “The Lord is my light and my salvation, whom then shall I fear?”.”

“The Lord is the strength of my life, of whom then shall I be afraid? When evildoers came upon me to eat up my flesh, it was they, my foes and adversaries, who stumbled and fell. Though an army should encamp against me, yet my heart shall not be afraid. And though war should rise up against me, I will put my trust in Him. One thing I have asked of the Lord, one thing I seek, that I may dwell in the house of the Lord, all the days of my life.” Her reading was simple and dry. You found your eyes glazing over, waiting for the Fathers homily.

Then you mentally slapped yourself. This was a time of worship, it didn’t matter if it was boring. You had grown used to the vivid approach he always took during Mass. You laughed a little to yourself when you thought you were a little addicted to it.

As if someone could become addicted to a preacher…don’t be ridiculous.

You remained seated, and watched as Father Paul approached Leeza first for the Eucharist. You liked that he carried on the tradition of serving her first since the accident, even though he wasn’t there. The amount of respect and care he had for the islanders was so selfless.

“Body of Christ, Leeza.” The good Father murmured just as he always did. So gentle.

“Amen.” She said, cupping her hands out.

Silence fell over the church then. You felt confusion fill you when he stopped just a couple steps away from her, and then even took a few steps back.

“Come on. Body of Christ.” He repeated, beckoning her with the wafer.

“Father, what are you doing?” Wade chuckled nervously.

You looked over at Erin, and she had the same look of slight horror that you did. What was he doing? Surely he didn’t think this was a joke.

“Body of Christ.” He repeated.

“What are you doing?” Wade asked again with more of a bite.

Leeza directed her chair to move forward, but Father Paul only stepped back further.

“No. No.” He muttered, and stepped up the stairs of the pulpit.

The worshipers around you began to murmur. You felt pressure start to build in your chest. Anxiety and ire weighing heavy in your stomach the longer he stood there out of her reach. Was he sick? What was he doing?

“Come on. Body of Christ.” Now his voice echoed in the space as he called the girl up to him. Relentless.

“No, stop it.” Erin snapped as she stood, “That’s cruel.”

“Come on.” He repeated, still calm.

Dolly got up and knelt by her daughter, trying to comfort her, “Leeza, honey.” Then she looked up at the pastor and her eyes were like ice, “What is wrong with you?”

“Father Hill enough.” You spoke- emotion making your voice shake.

But still he only stood and waited for Leeza.

You watched Wade stand with his family, each person growing more and more defensive and outraged, “If this is a joke, Father, it’s not funny. I…”

But then, it was as if all air had left the church- all sound gone too. You didn’t know what it was that you were seeing, and you were terrified to blink lest it go away. All horror you felt sunk into the Earth and your head felt light.

Leeza was standing. Freely.

“Leeza?” Wade asked in disbelief.

A woman across from you fainted as she stood.

Your ears felt all prickly and your fingers felt numb.

You could still remember when the accident had happened. How devastating it had been. Hell you used to walk with the Scarboroughs some nights when they went as a family.

Dolly was a mess for almost a year…now they only managed.

Leeza took a step, and then another, and then she was stepping up the stairs and you felt tears start to well in your eyes as you stared up in shock. You couldn’t blink.

“Body of Christ.” Father Hill said once more, and placed the wafer in Leesa’s hands.

“Amen.” She said, voice wavering.

You released a breath, and tore your eyes from Leeza to look up at the Father. He was watching her with such kindness and pride in his eyes as she turned and walked into her parents arms.

Who was he? How could…how could he have known?

Murmurs filled the church as people praised God and crossed themselves.

But you could only see how Father Hill began to sway and cough. He caught himself on the alter, but then pushed himself towards the back door into the vestibule. Your blood began to run cold with worry as he almost ran out of view.

You would have run after him yourself if Bev hadn’t.

Your head was spinning and you felt disconnected from your body.

You didn’t know what to think or do, so you wordlessly walked to Leeza and embraced her. She held you and wept into your shoulder.

You felt your heart.

It hurt.

Ached.

You walked with the Scarboroughs into town to see Dr. Gunning, and kept quiet to let them speak to one another. Disbelief and awe coloured their words as they encouraged their daughter.You kept one arm under Leeza’s while Wade had the other; they talked, and talked until your face hurt from smiling, and you were helping her up the steps to the doctors house.

It all seemed so…miraculous.

Such a God given gift.

Once Leeza was inside safely, you quietly backed out and waved them off. You began your way to your shop, and the entire walk was within a blink of an eye. You might have looked calm and thoughtful from the outside, but oh your mind was churning.

How? How? You could still remember seeing Leeza for the first time after the accident. How broken her and her family was.

You remembered all the specialists they saw and all the visits they made to the mainland. How some visits left them hopeful but most left them even more lost and helpless than the last.

You knew they barely afforded groceries now because of the bills.

Now, you didn’t know if you should weep out of joy or fall to your knees and vomit. It was as if someone you loved had risen from the dead…certainly it was wonderful but somehow you felt a little weary.

Perhaps it was years of empty promises after the oil spill…

You didn’t even remember doing deliveries that day. But somehow you finished them. News travelled quickly- by the time you had been halfway through people were talking to you about little Leezas recovery. You didn’t remember talking much, only saying what a miracle it was. You were back at your shop, just hopping off your bike when you realized you had completely spaced out the entire time.

How?

How…

How did he do that…

It seemed as if something had taken root in the island and had begun changing the chemistry of everything attached to it. First the good moods, now Leeza was walking down Main Street like nothing had happened.

But then when you walked home, you realised how deeply you were dissecting the wonderful event. You wondered if you had become a sceptic without even knowing. Were you so cynical to Gods powers that you questioned his will?

You sat on the edge of your bed, staring down at the rosary in your hands. The little cross glinted in the darkness.

Faith…

Did you lack it?

Had you begun to loose it?

Were you so ungrateful?

You felt tears prickle at your eyes but you refused to let them fall. You needed guidance, not tears. With a heavy heart, you sunk to your knees and began to pray.

It took a full week for you to muster up the courage to ask the Father for an appointment later on Saturday afternoon. Your day to yourself, and your time to relieve your consciousness. Your day to work on yourself.

Which was why you stood on the rectory’s doorstep, fidgeting.

A part of you told you that you were being needy. Selfish. That you just needed to get your head on straight and that you didn’t need to worry the Father with you being self-centred. That if this had been Father Pruitt you wouldn’t have bothered but for some reason you were more willing to see Father Hill.

You knocked, and didn’t have to wait long before the door was being opened. Father Hill stood there with a welcoming smile, “Right on time.” He said, “Come in, y/n.”

You nodded and quietly entered the small house. It felt so strange to be there alone with him. Not uncomfortable just…odd. Like you were somewhere you shouldn’t be.

“Sit, please.” He gestured to the couch, and dragged a chair over from his desk over to sit in front of you.

You perched on the edge, and folded your hands in your lap, “Thank you, Father…I- I know I was a little vague when I asked you to do this…but if I’m honest I’ve always disliked the confessional booth. I’m um…a bit claustrophobic.” You admitted.

He chuckled a little and shook his head, “No apology needed. Sometimes that anonymity that comes with a confessional isn’t right for every confession. I told you I was here when you needed and I meant that.”

His honesty and understanding put you a little at ease. Your nerves were still very much there, though. There was no backing out of this now, so you took a deep breath.

“Have you…have you ever had difficulties with faith, Father?” You asked, eyes flickering to his white collar for half a second.

John admittedly was not expecting that from you. If the implications were that you were having difficulties with faith, then he was surprised. Regardless, he nodded.

“Certainly…we’re all human, even me, and we are made to have ups and downs no matter how dedicated we are to our Lord.” He said gently, resting his elbows on his knees.

You stared back at him, hard. You knew you were ridged. You hadn’t opened up to a soul about this turmoil you had begun to feel, and you hoped to God that Father Hill was the right person to hear you.

You clenched your hands against each other, and put your trust in him.

“I think…I think I’ve become…” you swallowed again when your throat became tight.

Be straightforward.

“I think I’m losing my faith, Father…” you pursed your lips, “It might sound silly for me to say that because you see me at church every day and I’m committed to the community, but I think that I’ve been losing my true love for my faith for a long time…” you whispered. Hearing it out loud made tears start to well in your eyes. You didn’t know why exactly, though perhaps it was the sense that you had failed yourself, your family, your community and your God.

“I’m here with you, y/n…keep going.” He took your hand, and gazed at you, encouraging you.

You took a tight breath.

“It’s just always been a part of my life- getting up and going to Mass and praying before bed and reading the Bible and being a good girl who doesn’t ask too many questions and puts everyone else first and keeps her head down…” you could feel tears start to fall.

“I never really thought about it but…it’s been a couple years now and…it just gets heavier and heavier and I don’t want that burden.”

You bit at your bit as you let everything out, “I read a lot. The internet connection out here is horrible but I’ve done a lot of research on the Bible to try and deepen my understanding and I just find myself tripping over questions, and holes that don’t have answers…things that have been added only a few hundred years ago and things that have been forgotten or omitted…I’ve never even mentioned this to anyone…I think they would assume I was joking because it’s just…a part of who I am. Who I’ve always been…”

You slowly looked back up to Father Hill, and found him watching you patiently. Non-judgemental, just waiting for you to have your time.

John slowly reached out and took your hands in his. You were hanging onto his every move, and he took your silence as a cue to speak.

“Ma-may I?” He asked, and you nodded, “This isn’t about God.”

You blinked. You weren’t expecting that.

Father Hill started again, elaborating,“You feel you’re losing your faith, but I think what you’re losing is yourself. Your sense of self…so much of having faith is endurance and I know you have that. You have faith, young lady and I know you won’t let anything take it from you. You know how I know?” He asked you.

You shook your head.

“Because you’re afraid.” He whispered, his large thumb rubbing your knuckles gently.

You let a tear fall as you held his gaze.

“Because you came here. Luke said “His mercy extends to those who fear him.” And I think that is exactly what will happen for you. I think your fear of God is just a testament of your faith. And I believe you will be granted a great mercy.”.”He said passionately, “But I think what you are truly going through is a need for guidance in yourself.”

You stared at him for a long moment. Perhaps a full minute.

Another tear fell.

Then another.

Then many.

Until you couldn’t see and your cheeks were soaked.

“Shh…shh, that’s okay, I’m with you…shh.” He cooed to you, “I’m here to help…” the Father scooted a little closer.

You nodded, trying to get a hold of yourself, “Sorry-I’m sorry-“

He squeezed your hands.

Had he been holding your hand this entire time?

You took slow shaky breaths until you could speak again.

“I love everyone here…and I do love my life here. It’s simple and fairly easy…but…I can’t help but feel I’m missing something. Like I pretended to be some expectation for so long that now it’s become me and I don’t know how else to be. But realising it is so much worse than just living that way. Delusion is an amazing thing.”

Father Hill sat still for a moment as he thought. “I think being honest will help that turmoil you feel. Nothing too out of your comfort zone but…just enough that you feel truer to yourself…I have been where you are…many years ago. Just as many have.” His voice lulling you into a state of calm.

You looked up at him, eyes starting to dry.

“I had an older sister…” he said gently, “She passed when I was 8…and her death was why I began to look at God and his divine plan and that was where I found my faith. I questioned why and how her death fit into everything and how her death was justified by Him and…in that quest to grieve and find answers, I found some, but I also found God. You are on a similar journey right now and you will find what you’re looking for. It might even be given to you when you least think it will come to you…it may even hurt at first but in time I think you might grow to see it as a revival.”

His words settled into your head, and you sat in comfortable silence for a few moments. One last tear fell, “Thank you, Father Hill.” You smiled.

The older man reached up and gently wiped that last tear away and patted your hand, “For I am the Lord your God who takes hold of your right hand and says to you, Do not fear; I will help you…” he murmured.

You nodded, and sniffled.

“I’ll make some tea.” He said, and stood after one last reassuring look at you. Somehow his calm seeped into you and your body welcomed it like it was made to. Your shoulders were relaxed as was your jaw. You felt at peace with having gone to him.

John needed a moment away from your proximity. It was a miracle he could keep his composure as you sat there- shooting pains rocked his stomach as hunger brutalized his body.

“I noticed St. Patrick’s has been fuller…” you murmured, wanting to direct attention from you.

“Ah- yes well it seems little Leezas recovery has reawakened the faith of many.” He agreed, regaining a steady voice.

“The island has had a religious revival Father,” you said as he returned with two cups of tea, “The only thing that’s changed…is you.” You looked up from the cup in your hands to gage his reaction. It had indeed been something you noticed, as had many people especially after Leeza…

He tapped the edge of his cup as he took a seat beside you on the couch.

You tried to give him the nudge to speak just as he had for you, “You don’t know what it was like before…I haven’t seen people so engaged in sermons before. You…you have a true gift. You have helped to resurrect this island, Father Hill.”

“I’m glad you see it that way.” He smiled a little.

“You help people everyday.” You turned to look at Father Hill directly.

“So do you.” The man shrugged nonchalantly.

Your nose scrunched a little, “Not really…I try to support my community, but I don’t know about helping.”

“No- no. You do, don’t deflect- you do,” Father Hill shook his head, “You know you do too but you’re so used to it that it’s second nature. That’s a blessed attribute to have.” He insisted, “Especially since things haven’t exactly been easy here since that oil spill. I can only imagine…”

You pursed your lips.

“It’s been…difficult. It’s better now but it was horrible for a long time. I just…” you looked down at the warm liquid in your cup, “I believe you can’t wait for life to be easy before you decide to start helping the people you love.” You muttered.

John felt his heart tug- this time not out of pain. It was a tug of sorrow. As he gazed at this young woman beside him he began to feel as if the two of you were kindred spirits of some kind. You both shared a look, and John found that he had come to understand you a little better, and he began to understand why you were the one he saw first that day on the dock.

You parted ways with the Father sometime later into the evening. It had been a little odd how he had almost ushered you out as soon as he had noticed the darkness outside. He had said something about not wanting a young woman like you being outside at night. You had almost laughed at how old he had sounded.

John had caught the tug of your lips that you hid by ducking your head down. He liked that you smiled around him- that you weren’t afraid…

It would make everything so much easier. You are already to receptive to his guidance…

You left the rectory that night feeling as if something had taken root in you too. Perhaps it was the Fathers spirit of hope settling into your sinew and melding with your blood that had you feeling a little more…looked after.

Cared for.

Seen.

You felt as if you truly were not alone. Like he was always with you even as you walked home.

After your confession, you found yourself bumping into the Father often in town. On a few occasions he walked you home after your working day was done if he happened to be in the area, and you even stopped by the rectory to borrow a book. You found a deep solace being near the preacher, and in your need for a cure to your listlessness, you didn’t even stop to think if you were following his word or God’s.

His sweet, compelling, passionate words that seemed to evoke such a vivaciousness in you.

You started bringing batches of baked goods on Sundays too. Nothing extravagant, but something for the worshipers to enjoy after. There was something in you, pushing you to do better, but on your own terms. Doing it for your own pleasure and not the pleasure of others.

You noticed how that laughter from the potluck was now a common thing. Smiles were normal. You heard people joking, and going for evening walks and morning jogs. Kisses and hugs.

Was there something in the air?

But while you were enjoying your new outlook on life, John could not be more worried for you. It had been two weeks now that he wasn’t able to give you the sacrament. He had tried once more after your first comment but he heard you say something to Bev about it.

Certainly you had a little of the gift in you…but it wasn’t enough. Perhaps a tablespoon. Only enough to make you feel a little brighter, but not enough to…to change. Revive.

He was at a loss.

But the more he prayed, the more he came to realize that perhaps it wasn’t your time. It would come. He knew it would. It had to. And when it did you too would be blessed…even if he was the one to bless you himself.

“Three weeks ago, when we began this journey of repentance, I asked those of you were here to keep a few words in mind. Rebirth, second chances, eternal life. That's a lot to wrap your head around, isn't it? I can barely visualize next week, let alone eternity, But, I mean, for most of us, eternity, it’s an abstract. It’s a metaphor, a colorful exaggeration. When we’re waiting for something we want, it takes forever.We sit in traffic for an eternity. Abstracts, metaphors, colorful exaggerations. To us, maybe, but not to God. Not to Him. ..” he said thoughtfully, “And it shouldn’t be for us, either. Communion, the transformation of bread and wine into the body and blood of Christ. A metaphor? No,” he slapped the pulpit, “God tells us. Miracles, walking on water, rising from the dead. Abstracts? No.” He slapped it again, “God tells us. Eternal life, a colorful exaggeration?”

You heard Wade say “no”, and the verbalisation made you jump a little. No one usually spoke.

“No? That’s right. You call it out.God’s gifts are as tangible as the ground beneath our feet,” he stomped the pedestal, and you jumped again.

“And His covenant, it’s not abstract. No. It’s a contract, scrawled in flesh, inked in the blood of the martyrs. And yet, try as we might, we cannot visualize, we cannot mentally picture the rewards promised…” you noticed him fan himself for a moment, and you were suddenly snapped from your trance.

Was he alright?

“Well, if you’re here seeking to know answers to the unknowable, it’s incumbent upon me to tell you that I have none. And if you want to know why or how God’s will shapes the world, brothers and sisters, so do I. I don’t have all the answers. Nobody does. What I do have though, and what God gives us plentifully, are mysteries.God gives us miracles very rarely, here and there, but mysteries?…”

Your worry began to grow when the Father stopped all together. He seemed to adjust himself where he stood, though somehow he still didn’t seem quite right.

“Sorry. Um…As… adults, we tend to dislike mysteries. We… We feel uncomfortable not knowing.No. To be a child. To look with awe and wonder, and live with staggering honesty. To be guiltless, light as air. To bend softly as the word of God sweeps…” he speech began to grow almost wandering. As if he wasn’t entirely lucid…almost like the old Monsignor-

John felt his stomach twitch with pain as he stood before his growing flock. He could barely see let alone think as his body seemed to betray itself.

“I’m very sorry. I’m…Sorry, I’m just a little bit tired today. A tiny dizzy spell. It’s passed. I’m fine. Sorry. I’m very sorry. Um…The more that we know, the less we bend. The more brittle we become, the easier to break. Like some would say this island broke. Was broken. But I am here to tell you…the resurrection, body and soul, the redemption, body and soul, the miracles waiting for us here on Crockett Island. Not metaphors, not abstracts, not colorful exaggerations, no. Rebirth, second chances. Eter…”

You watched in horror as Father Hill tumbled to the ground with a thud. There was a rush to help him, but your mind seemed to click into gear when you quickly grabbed one of the phones left on a pew and dialled Dr. Gunning’s office.

She barely got a word out before you; your voice shook as you spoke quickly, “The- Father Hill- he’s collapsed, please come up to the church, Doctor.” You rushed out.

“Calm down, calm down, is he breathing?” She said, calm as ever.

You stood quickly and rushed over to the crowd. Without a thought, you knelt beside the Father and placed your ear on his chest.

“What on earth-“ Bev started to ask, from her spot beside you, but you didn’t pay attention as you sat up again and put the phone to your ear.

“Yes he is.” You said.

“I’ll be there soon. Get him some air if he wakes up.” She sighed.

You nodded, and hung up.

“Well?” Bev snapped at you.

You blinked, “Dr. Gunning- She’ll be here soon…water- uh can- can someone get some cool water and a towel please?” You tried to think of anything you could do to help in the meantime.

Someone started to go, but it seemed Bev wanted to be involved. “I’ll get it.” She huffed and disappeared from your side.

Wade crouched beside you, and checked over Father Hill. He looked over at you and you gave him a reassuring smile. “I think the Father could use some air, Mr.Mayor.”

He nodded and looked up that the distressed crowd.

“It’s alright everyone. If he could get some room please? He needs extra air…Sturge could you open the door please?” Wade asked.

The man in question nodded and did as he asked while the townspeople began to disperse.

Bev returned a moment later and you took the cloth from her and dampened it from the bowl of water.

“Thank you…” you mumbled, then very gently began to dab at Father Hill’s forehead, then at the skin peaking out from his chasuble around his neck.

A few minutes passed with Beverly fussing in the background, but slowly you noticed his colour returning, and eyes start to flicker until they opened slowly. You felt relief fill you up and you sighed.

John gazed up at you and he swore there was a halo surrounding your head as you sat over him. Your brows scrunched in worry, but your watchful eyes gazing down at him.

“Glory be…” Came his whisper.

You looked down at him and wiped his brow once more. The man blinked a few more times then went to sit up, but several hands rushed to keep him down.

“Slowly, Father…slowly.” Someone said.

You helped the Father rise up to sit, and dabbed the back of his neck. “You passed out Father.” you said.

“I’m sorry- so sorry…” he nodded. grinding his teeth slightly when a wave of pain hit him, “I’m…uh not sure what’s wrong with me today.” He said as humorously as he could, though both he and the islanders knew there was nothing to joke about.

Even as you watched Sturge and Wade help him into the rectory with Sarah and Bev, you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something gravely wrong with him. Not that you have ever exactly noticed anything…but certainly there were times where he seemed to almost clench, and work through a minor pain- covering it with a cough or stretch. Things that were so barely there you wouldn’t even think twice.

While that day was your day to yourself and the shop was closed, you found that you were listless. Worried, curious. Fretting.

So silly really.

You mindlessly baked a batch of muffins, and remembered halfway through how much the Father liked them. On more than one occasion he had stopped by to purchase a few.

You put a few in a container, and set out on your bike across the island. You hoped he was doing well… if he didn’t answer you were content with just leaving them on his stoop, though you found yourself wanting to see for yourself that he was alright.

You leaned your bike by the church, and strode over to the rectory. It was still afternoon, and you hoped you could catch him before he went to the Gunnings. You thought it was so sweet that he did that for Mildred.

You knocked, and waited. It was quiet for a long moment, then the door opened slowly. Father Hill stood before you disheveled. His top button was undone, collar missing, and his hair looked to have been brushed back with his fingers.

“Oh- y/n please…come in.” He moved aside.

You looked to the side then slowly walked into the small home. It was cozy and simple. It felt warm. “I’m so sorry for bothering you father…I’m sure you’ve had plenty of people coming by to check on you…” you trailed off, looking for a spot to but the container down.

“Nonsense…I was hoping you could come actually…” he said quietly, gingerly perching against the edge of the kitchen counter, “I wanted to thank you.”

That caught you off guard.

You blinked, and shook your head, “What for?”

“For extending that helping hand of yours to me. It was a joy to be helped by you. A blessing- you are a uh, a blessing.” Father Hill stared back at you like he meant every word he said and more, though you couldn’t help but notice the slightly delirious stare he had.

You hadn’t expected anything like this when you had set out to drop off the muffins still in your hands, but you found yourself growing warm at his praise.

“I-well I just…-“

“Just what? Did what anyone would do?” He cut you off, smiling a little wearily.

“Yes…”you admitted.

“And did anyone else do what you did?” He prodded, head tilting so slightly to the side.

You looked down, then back up at him, and shook your head.

“And now you come here again to my aid with something that is not a casserole you see you truly are just wonderful.” He smiled a little more, and you did too, and laughed.

“Ah… the Crockett islanders at their finest. If ever you’re sick you will have at least a few of those in your fridge by night fall.” You joked, though it was true, “I- um I remember you liked those muffins that I made last week and I was worr- I made some extra and thought you might like them.” You caught yourself.

“Thank you, dear girl…” he said, but winced when he went to say something else. You placed the container down on the counter beside him and gently put your hand on his arm.

“Father? Are you feeling dizzy?” You asked.

“I- I am just a little…” he admitted, blinking a few times to get through the fog.

“I’ll help you to your room. Rest for a while, alright?” You took his arm and slowly directed him to the back of the rectory where you assumed he slept.

“I’m fine…just tired.” He tried to reassure you.

“I’m sure you are Father.” You walked him to the edge of his bed, and sat him down, “Rest. I’m sure you’ll feel better in the morning.”

“You’re a good girl, y/n, thank you. You’ve made this adjustment blessedly easy.” He told you, staring up at you.

You saw something in his weary gaze then. You didn’t know what it was. But you somehow noted it in your mind.

You squeezed the hand of his that held yours, “Rest, Father. God willing, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Father Paul nodded, “You will.” He smiled weakly.

You released his hand, and gave him a small wave before leaving the small house. You felt sorry for the man being all alone there, but you were sure Bev would be by to pester him soon if she hadn’t already.

Then as you picked your bike up, you heard the crunching of gravel under shoes. You looked up to see the very woman. “Hello Bev.” You called to her.

“Ah, y/n. I do hope you haven’t bothered Father Hill too much.” She smiled tersely.

“Not at all. Just dropped off something that wasn’t a casserole.” You smiled a little more genuine.

“Well, thank you for your contribution. Very kind.” With that she turned and began to walk past you. You half considered telling her he was resting, but you knew it wouldn’t deter her. You sighed, and peddled away.

Another shift had begun around you. Off balanced.

You noticed it in small things.

Not necessarily bad, but not especially good. Less and less wildlife hummed around the bushes and trees, and you noticed how there was such a divide between the attitudes of church goers and non. Conversing with someone who didn’t attend now felt like a bucket of cold water in comparison to those who you saw regularly. Like there was a bubble around the parishioners. And you weren’t certain you liked that.

Your worry only deepened when you went to Mass the next morning only to see that it would be candelled that day. A frown tugged at your mouth, though you tried to not think too much about it. The Father was ill, you knew that. It was nothing else but that.

It wasn’t as if you knew that the very man was dodging the gaps in the curtains to look out at his flock returning to their homes and jobs without their daily Mass. And of course there you stood- a worried look muddling your beautiful face.

Had you always been so pretty?

Vibrant.

A halo around your hair where the sun caught it.

John watched you back away from the church, though he saw you clench and unclench your hands and look to and from the church to the rectory. You wanted to check on him. Such a dutiful lamb.

Something visceral in him made him nearly open the door and call you inside. Beckon you to him. Just as he felt that need there was an ache in his mouth like he needed to bite, hard. A side affect to…to dying he supposed. He put his trust in God but this hurt was unbearable.

John prayed and wept and doubled over as he accepted and waded through the pain. The bulk of it finally subsided by the evening. It seemed almost as if as soon as the sun had gone down his body relaxed.

Just a little.

Enough to make himself look presentable, and step out from his front door no matter how nervously.

Like his body knew he was safe with the sun down. No more burns.

As he strode across the island, John found himself marvelling at the new-found beauty around him. Living halos of light around the stars, and lamplights. Colours and smells and sounds he had never experienced. He could almost feel the earth breathe.

Seeing Millie in her home that night was something special. She remembered him. Saw him. He could have weapt just by seeing the look of recognition on her face. Feeling her hands hold his and that smile. John’s heart ached.

As did his stomach. Painfully.

So hungry.

John hurried along after the little reprieve with Mildred, but found himself taking a little detour. He didn’t mean to; his feet just took him that way. Just a little bit of a longer walk home.

Past your house.

Your curtains were open again.

John found himself walking a little closer, something enticing drawing him in. He stood just outside your window. You were just getting ready for bed…he could almost smell you; all fresh from the shower.

John sighed, then winced when another surge of hunger punched his stomach. That ache he had felt in his jaw returned tenfold, and he felt his vision start to fade.

There was nothing to do but get back to the rectory. Quickly. John employed his long strides and muttered prayers under his breath. He needed to be away. Hide. There was no preparation for this next phase of revival. He wasn’t ready. This deep carnal hunger was eating away at him. He needed more of the sacrament.

Now.

He needed help. John paced the rectory, and felt his nerves and veins and muscles and tendons tugging at him, begging him for nourishment. Feed me, Father, feed me.

“Angel of God my, guardian dear to whom Gods love commits me here…”

He mindlessly grasped the bottle of communion wine, and let it empty down the back of his throat yet it somehow wasn’t enough. He needed more.

More more-

“Uh…Father?”

Something deep inside John Pruitt unfurled then. It began to seep into his tissue and into his bloodstream. John turned, startled.

“Oh…Hello Joe.”

The following morning was a little bit of a slow one for you. You half considered calling the rectory just to see if there would indeed be Mass at all, but decided against it. You brushed your hair, and tied it back; grabbed any extra ingredients you needed for the morning and set off.

Even as you kneaded the doughs and whipped cream and stirred batter you found yourself lagging.

The walk to Mass was slow too.

Off kilter.

You took your usual seat, but your brows pinch together when you saw Ali sitting not too far from you. You looked to see if Hassan had come with him, but to only deepen your confusion, he was alone. You leaned forward a little in your pew, “Ali?” You murmured loud enough for him.

The boy jumped a little, but relaxed when he saw it was you.

“Come.” You smiled and patted the spot beside you, and he instantly looked grateful. Ali stood and made his way back to you, and you sent him another smile as he sat. You didn’t ask him why he was there, it wasn’t your business. You had always liked Ali- a sweet boy with good manners for the most part.

Then, you looked to the other side of the church, and noticed that Erin was missing. She never missed Sunday Mass. Never.

Something in your stomach curled tight.

An anxious feeling of anticipation.

Without the presence of Father Hill to envelope the church, you found yourself gazing around the building. You looked at the windows, and the pews until your gaze fell upon the wooden figure of Jesus crucified.

Had it always been so grotesque?

Were you worshiping a man? God was supposed to be a being that governed over everything…omnipotent…why would he descend to earth in the body of a man? Why would he need to if he created messengers like Moses and Noah and so many others…

Your mind began to spin out of control until you were starting to wonder what you were doing there.

The distress you felt only grew deeper when a half hour passed, and Father Hill still hadn’t made an appearance. You looked over at Annie, then even looked up at that back of Bev’s head as if she might have an answer written there.

Finally the woman had had enough and made her way to the rectory. You perched on your seat, waiting for anything to happen. It was nearly another twenty minutes that passed before Bev returned- faux smile already on her face as she took a spot upon the pulpit.

“Good morning!” She began, “Well I have to tell you it is such a delight to see this church so full every day, thank God. I'm afraid this morning though that we have to - well, I think we'll have to cancel Mass.”

You scrunched your brows in surprise. But then that feeling you had had inside you tilted again, a little more in the wrong direction. Twisting. You felt nauseated.

“Father Paul's bouncing back from a stomach bug, poor thing, and I just had to physically restrain the dear man and put him to bed, he was so determined to be here! He'll be back on his feet in just no time at all but this morning, at least, our dear Dolly Scarborough - come up here Dolly…” she encouraged Dolly to come up beside her, and while the good natured woman did, she was just as confused as the rest of the churchgoers.

There had certainly been times with Monsignor Pruitt when his health was hanging by a thread and Mass was cancelled but…Father Hill was in prime condition how could he still be so ill?

“Uh, maybe Dolly can lead us in singing, and some readings, and some prayer, and we can still celebrate together, like the Christians of old, who sang praises to God long before they had priests to lead the way. Uh let’s start with Hymn number 473, "Be Thou My Vision". Dolly, can you lead us?” Bev looked over to Andy who began to play his organ, and slowly everyone followed Dolly’s singing.

But then you watched as Bev began to leave again, this time accompanied by Sturge and Wade. They disappeared out through the vestibule, and you mentally snapped yourself back from trying to see what happened.

Your curiosity started to gnaw at you so badly you almost missed the cue to sit down.

Mass ended simply…or rather it deflated. A somewhat awkward shuffle out the door was the end of Mass that day. Murmurs and worries stares at the rectory as everyone filed out and meandered down the hill to Main street.

You glanced over to the rectory, and paused when you saw Bev exit. You moved a little back from the entrance along the side of the church to catch her.

“You’re sure Father Hill is alright?” You asked her as she strode to the back door of the church.

“Just fine. In need of a little more rest we think. Nothing to worry about.” She said a little more brightly than usual. You felt in your gut there was a lie in her words.

“Annie’s making a hearty stew tonight I could stop by and bring him some-“

“No!” She snapped, then softened a little when she saw how startled you were, “No, no he needs to be undisturbed today. Thank you, y/n. Bless you.”

You nodded slowly, and flicked your eyes over to the small building. You could have sworn you saw the curtain move.

“Alright, Bev…take care.” You said. Something was making your nerves itch under your skin. Like an internal fear response that you didn’t usually need.

A cord was plucked inside you.

A voice inside you telling you to leave.

It wasn’t that Bev had snapped at you, or that you felt she was hiding something. It was that St. Patrick’s had always been a place of peace and safety for you, and now you found yourself wanting to be far from it. You feet almost itching to run.

You didn’t run. But you did walk quickly. You wished you had taken your bike that day.

You cast one last look at the rectory. Sturge and Wade still hadn’t come out.

Your feet acted for you, and carried you away from the church. Away from that itch.

Once the general store came into view, you hesitated in going directly to your shop. Since Mass had ended early, you didn’t need to start deliveries yet; instead, you walked into the store, and towards the sheriffs office. You waved at the old man working at the counter- Gerald- and knocked on the officers door.

“Come.” Came his voice.

You opened the door, and sure enough, Hassan was seated at his desk, reading a paper from a file on his desk.

“What can I- oh.” He said, then stopped upon seeing you, “Y/n? Everything alright?” He was suddenly concerned at the prospect of you coming to his office.

Your eyes widened, “Oh- yes fine. Sorry um…I just… I don’t know if you want to…talk about it but…I saw Ali today. At Mass.”

Hassan sighed heavily, “Ah…yeah he…” he didn’t finish his sentence.

“Curious?” You asked.

But the man only sighed again, “I love that my son is interested in God and looking for him…but…” he started.

“But you already have God.” You finished for him.

He nodded, “He’s not praying with me anymore…we fight…he just…I can’t lose him.”

You nodded, “I know…I can keep an eye on him, if you’d like?” You offered a little weakly- you knew there wasn’t much you could do.

“Thank you…I don’t want to discourage him but …he’s not Christian. He knows why we’re Muslim and it’s…” he didn’t know where to start with the issue. “Bev Keene handed out bibles at school last week. Since then…” he look his head, “I think he mostly is interested in it because he wants to fit in.” Hassan sighed and rubbed his brow.

You nodded, “I’m sorry Hassan…this…this must be hard to watch. Doesn’t help that he’s a teenager. Teens are…difficult to reason with.”

He huffed out a bitter laugh, “I only pray that he returns to his faith.”

“God willing, he will.” You didn’t know how to comfort the man, but it seemed that just having someone there helped.

“Inshallah…” he muttered.

You tilted your head in question.

“Means “God willing.”…” he explained.

“Ah…” you said. Silence filled the office, and you clasped your hands. “There’s…have you thought about asking to be stationed somewhere else? Maybe somewhere with other Muslims? He might just be missing that connection…”

“I’ve thought about it…hard to uproot a kid again though.” He crossed his arms.

You wanted to help him. You really wanted to help. This man was alone, and was practically ostracized by the very town he was supposed to protect and serve. You were almost certain you were the closest thing he had to a friend, and you needed to say something.

“You know…I don’t really fully believe Jesus is God.” You blurted out.

He looked up at you then.

You flushed. You hadn’t meant for it to come out like that, “Sorry…I just…just because I go to Mass doesn’t mean I believe everything.”

“Aren’t you Christian?” He asked.

“I…used to be. It’s more of a habit that I go to church. Been going since I was a kid. But…when you first came here that was the first time I heard about Islam…properly. You don’t believe Jesus was god either right?” You asked.

He shook his head.

“He was just another messenger…prophet. I did some reading a while ago and I found that the holy trinity is actually a new thing in Christianity…and I began to wonder what else was “new” or what had been taken out…I guess I’m just trying to say that…Ali might look for God somewhere else but you never know…he might find that the church is flawed and just come right back to you and Allah.” You mused.

Hassan felt tears prick at his eyes. “Thank y/n…thank you.”

You smiled, and nodded, “I’ll um…I’ll leave you to it. Come by later. Lunch is on me.”

“You’re gonna make me fat.” He grumbled

“A little pudge is cute.” You shrugged as you opened the door.

“You’re a bad influence.” He shot back- his walls back up as the door to the outside opened- literally.

“Guess you’ll just have to lock me away, sheriff!” You chirped, and smiled, then closed the door.

But as you turned away and walked back through the shop, that smile faded away.

Everything was changing.

Fast…so fast. Hassan and Ali had been on Crockett for close to a year, and you had never heard Ali mention something about church.

You knew the miracle with Leeza had been drawing many people in, but you could still accept it as a miracle without changing your beliefs.

Did he just want to fit in?

Was he just curious?

Then you remembered how you had felt that morning as you waited for Father Hill. That feeling of trepidation that seeded in your navel and seared into your fingertips.

When you unlocked the door to your shop, you wondered if it was because there was nothing to distract you as you sat in the church. Everyday there was something to keep you busy- the doddering Monsignor or now the invigorating Father. Something to guide you. But once you were left with your thoughts…you started to think a little too much.

Now you weren’t stupid- far from it. You thought a lot. Constantly. But there was something pressing about sitting in that church. You almost felt like you had woken up when you had stood outside the rectory.

Nervous.

Yes you had felt…so nervous as Bev stood there with you.

You wondered if that was how lambs felt before they were taken for slaughter.

Oh what a gruesome thought…pull yourself together.

You were spiralling into the morbid.

Tomorrow would be better.

You focused on that. Yes. Yes tomorrow would be better.

GOOD FRIDAY MASS AT 8PM

E4STER VIGIL SUN MIDNIG-

You watched as Sturge finished with the H and T.

That chord in you struck again. You twitched. The dread in your stomach rolling around like a marble on a metal track.

Leeza stood beside you, confused as ever, “Wait…you're saying every night? No morning Masses at all?” She asked.

Sturge sighed, “Time being.”

Your brows scrunched up, but you schooled your expression when Leeza looked over at you. No need to let her see your worry.

“Father Paul probably just needs another morning or two to recover from that head cold- but he’ll be up and about tonight. Isn’t that right Sturge?” Wade tried to reassure the crowd as a good mayor should, but you knew Wade. And you knew something wasn’t right.

“Yessir, spoke with him myself this morning’…feeling’ much better.” Sturge agreed.

You looked over at the weathered man, and noted that he was off too.

Rehearsed.

You made Sturge a birthday cake every year and the extent of his appreciation was a “Thanks.” Sturge was never a man of many words, and defiantly wouldn’t over explain something.

Wade nodded now, “Dolly spoke to him too and he had a few things to say about Good Friday isn’t that right, honey?” He asked his wife.

You turned to the woman in question, and saw that she was looking somewhere else.

“Dolly?” You heard Wade say, but he trailed off

You saw what she was looking at, and you understood why. You had seen Mildred Gunning now a few times on your deliveries to her house, but seeing her up and walking outside made you stop short. Certainly you had noticed how she was practically aging backwards, but you had only assumed Sarah was trying a new treatment for her.

But this. The walk across the island was a half hour on a good day. And there she was in her Sunday best.

The crowd of islanders began murmuring amongst themselves, and began embracing the older woman. You held back just a little, though your practiced smile was on your face. Your eyes found Sarah beside her, and somehow you weren’t sure if you found solace or anxiety in what you saw there.

She had the same look on her face that you were hiding on yours under your smile.

It wasn’t grim, but it wasn’t joyous.

You slowly began back into town. You missed Mass. You missed that energy that the good Father Hill brought to the church. You missed-

You shook yourself.

Stop it.

What’s wrong with you?

Suddenly, that perfect little routine you had made for yourself for years…was crumbling. You no longer felt the peace you once did, and now it seemed you had to flip the routine completely.

Nightly Mass.

You pursed your lips.

“Have a minute?”

You turned and saw the Sheriff coming towards you as you unlocked your door.

You nodded and grinned softly, “Morning, sure thing.”

The two of you entered the little store and you closed it behind you.

“Everything okay?” You asked when Hassan stood quietly.

“You know that kid, Bowl?” He asked.

You blinked, “Sure I do. Bit of a troubled kid.”

Hassan nodded, “You seen him lately?”

You frowned, “Can’t say I have.”

“Alright…worth a shot. You’re the youngest one here aside from the kids so…just wanted to ask.” He sighed.

“I’m sorry…” you wrung your hands, “Have um…have you seen Joe lately?” You asked, suddenly remembering the quietness in the sheriffs office and lack of grumbled greetings.

At that the sheriff hung his head a little, “No…no but I need to speak to him…I’ll let you know if I find him.”

You took a breath in and held it a little to try and calm yourself, “Alright.”

“I’ll see you later, y/n. Don’t work too hard.” He murmured, as he opened the door.

“You too, Hassan.” You said a little absentmindedly.

He left you to your thoughts. With Mass cancelled again, you had far too much time to kill before you really needed to start deliveries.

You sat on your little stool behind the counter, and found a book Father Hill had lent you almost a week ago under your receipt box.

The Divine Comedy: Dante’s inferno.

You began to read. Too afraid to let your thoughts run rampant again.

Nightime wasn’t much better. You felt something pulling in you to go and visit the rectory. No one outside of the Scarboroughs, Sturge and Bev had seen the Father, and there was that nagging feeling in you that you needed to see if he was alright. Why couldn’t he just come out to tell everyone he was on the mend? What was there all this dancing around?

You stood on your porch, cardigan pulled tight around you as you fought with yourself internally.

Then, just as you went to take a step, a gust of wind pushed you back. You felt that anxiety strum within you once again. Your gut cried to you to not go, and with blood running cold, you went inside and shut the door.

You closed your curtains that night, and prayed to any God that would listen. You didn’t know why fear had rooted itself so deep within your heart, and somehow that frightened you more.

You were afraid.

So afraid.

Good Friday. You put on that dress your mom had gotten you last year for Christmas- she said it brought out your eyes. You grabbed a warm sweater, and socks, and left for Mass.

It was strange walking across the island as the sun set. You strode calmly, pushing that nagging feeling that sat in the back of your throat away.

“Y/n!”

You turned and saw Sarah and Mildred walking behind you not too far. You smiled, “Hello you two!” You chirped. You might have been suffering from an internal turmoil but you weren’t about to let them know.

“Sarah, Mrs.Gunning. Happy to see you both coming tonight.” You smiled and fell into step with them.

Mildred nodded, “It’s been years…” she mused, then stopped and held your arm, “You’ve been so good to us over the years, dear…Sarah’s been telling me and…I wanted to thank you.”

You waved her off and smiled, “Oh it was nothing. Happy to make your lives easier.”

“You have…really. Thank you.” Sarah nodded, a tight smile on her lips.

“You’re a good girl, y/n.” Mildred smiled gently.

You returned it, “Come on…hopefully Father Hill is well enough to preach today.”

The three of you walked the rest of the way, and you noticed how many times Mildred was stared at. She smiled and nodded when people looked, breaking any tension. Then as you walked up to the church, you saw Bev standing to greet the parishioners.

You smiled at her, though she looked straight past you to greet Mildred. You nodded to Sarah, and left them there to talk.

You took your seat, and not long after, the Gunnings took theirs directly in front of you. You wondered if that was where Mildred used to sit before she grew too ill.

Several more minutes passed, until you heard that low voice of the good father from the door of the church to begin service, “All rise for our processional hymn- number 139 in the red hymnal: At the cross , at the cross.”

You rose to your feet, and began to sing, but you couldn’t help but feel relieved that Father Hill was alright. It had been days since only a couple people saw him, and while you would never assume any deception from your elders…the secrecy seemed so strange.

“They took the body of Jesus, and bound it with the burial cloths along with the spices, according to the Jewish burial custom.” Dolly stood on the pulpit, reading from her bible. The church was full around you, and you found yourself slowly feeling at ease. You felt so silly for having been distressed.

“Now in the place where he had been crucified, there was a garden, and in the garden, a new tomb in which no one had yet been buried. So, they laid Jesus there because of the Jewish preparation day. For the tomb was close by. The Gospel of the Lord.” She finished.

“Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.” You and the other churchgoers answered.

Then as soon as Dolly stepped down, you found your eyes locked onto Father Hill as he took his place. You took a moment to take him in after it being a few days of not seeing him. Indeed he did look well- skin no longer waxy and pale. There was something else to his presence though, and you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. It almost felt like…home. What you came for. What you took comfort in.

That thought startled you.

“Good Friday. This is one of my favorite days of the year. The passion of our Lord. Just that word, “passion.” The word “passion,” it means a strong and barely controllable emotion. Barely controllable. That’s what Jesus felt when he gave his life for us, so that we might have life eternal. What a gift, told so beautifully in the Gospel of John. “Gospel” means good news! Good news on Good Friday. And yet, it’s a story of such profound suffering. What’s so good about that?” He paused to take in the filled church. You could see the pride he felt having brought the community together. You smiled a little.

“Jesus’s suffering in this story, it isn’t simply necessary. It is good. It is the price of eternal life. That suffering, he endures alone. At the Resurrection, he is alone. And then… Well… Ah, he has a few allies. And then more. A congregation. And then more and more people spread that good news. Tell that good story. And then, God has an army. What do they say in that commercial? Uh, “Be all that you can be.” Well, I mean no offense to the armed services, which are necessary and of course honorable, but that’s not all that you can be. In the Army, you’re fighting for God and country.”

You heard a few people murmur amongst you; admiration shining in their eyes as they listens to their preacher.

“Now, I am going to offend you now, but it is the truth. God does not want you to fight for this country. The arrogance… of that. God has no country. There is one God for the world. And the lines we draw, and the treaties we draft, and the borders we close mean nothing to Him. No, don’t fight for a country. You fight for God’s kingdom. A kingdom which Jesus tells us has no flags or borders. God’s army.”

You felt your throat tighten and your nose prickle.

“Now make no mistake. It is a war. That’s what an army is for.So, as a congregation, as God’s army, how do we know how the fight is going? We can’t see it. We can’t radio HQ for a status report. All we have, all God gives us, is right here.” He pointed to his chest, “How we feel. That moral compass inside each one of us pointing due north to the Holy Spirit. Conscience. In the army of God, conscience is standard issue. There are many like it, but this one is mine. You may think that that’s a line from a war movie, but it isn’t. That’s actually the Rifleman’s Creed. And a creed is, by definition, not just a belief, but it is a religious one. ” You could feel yourself hang onto each word. Rapt.

“So, it is a war, and there will be casualties. And we must be soldiers. That is what Good Friday is about. God will ask horrible things of you. Horrible. Just look at what He asked of His own son. Just look at what Jesus had to endure today. We had to call it the “New Covenant,” because God’s will, while perfect, changes.God’s will dictates morality, and as God’s will changes, so does morality change. It changed with the New Covenant. It changed when Jesus came, and we must, as his army, shed the Old Covenant and listen only to that. You rely on that compass. Good Friday is only good. The Gospel of the Lord, so full of horror, is only good, because of where it is headed. The Resurrection. Today is only good because of what’s coming Easter, this Sunday. When Jesus is risen, and death itself is lain dead. What is otherwise horrible is good because of where it’s headed. Welcome to God’s army. Yeah, we’re gonna do great things.”

Your blood rushed in your ears as Father Hill finished.

You somehow felt refreshed…full. You supposed you needed that sense of belonging amongst the other islanders. But when you went to converse with the Gunnings, you were surprised to see them already shuffling out towards the door as soon as Sturge had opened them. You wondered if perhaps it was all too tiring for Mildred and they needed to get home soon.

You sighed, and stood to find Annie. She was there with Ed, but they seemed off too. “Hi Annie, Ed…any plans for Easter?” You asked as you joined them in the thinning crowd.

But then you saw the anxiety in the older woman’s eyes. You knew instantly that something was very wrong. “Annie?” You asked, putting a hand on her arm.

“Oh it…it’s nothing. You know me.” She waved it off, “We uh were thinking of having a nice family dinner. You’re welcome to come of course.” She forced a smile.

You waited patiently with a gentle nod until she told you what was going on. She always did.

“Riley…he- we haven’t seen him all day.” She finally said.

Your brows pitched in worry, “Oh I’m- I’m sorry…maybe he’s with Erin? They’re close right?” You asked, trying to keep their spirits up.

“Probably. Like I said it’s nothing.” She reassured you again, “Anyways, isn’t that the dress your mom got you? What was it…your birthday last year?” She changed the subject, and you let her.

“Christmas.” You smiled, “Thought I’d pull it out of the closet.”

“You look lovely. See you tomorrow?” She asked, already moving out and down the aisle with the remaining parishioners and pulling Ed with her.

“Most likely! You know me…always around.” You nodded, following after them.

“Take care now!” She called back, and her husband gave you a small wave before they disappeared down the stairs and onto the road.

Now left to your solitude, you felt butterflies take wing in your stomach. You sucked in a breath, and began down the stairs after saying goodbye to another few islanders you knew speaking to Bev. You stepped outside, head a little in the clouds when you nearly jumped.

“There she is. How are you, my dear girl?” Father Hill stood at the bottom of the stairs wishing each of his flock goodbye.

You looked up at him as you came to stand beside him. But he wasn’t as vibrant as he usually was. You noticed a certain darkness in his eyes…

Of course he looks like that he’s been sick for days

You mentally throttled yourself.

“I’m well, thank you Father. You seem better.” You smiled a little, though perhaps not as wide as usual.

He noticed.

“Yes…yes much, thank you. Everyone has been so accommodating with me…so helpful. Good people.” He mused.

You nodded, “They are.”

John could almost feel your pulse in his head as you gazed up at him- so docile. The light from St. Patrick’s spilled over you and lit you like a holy revelation. He could smell your skin from his place a few feet away…could tell that you washed your hair not too long ago. But despite the loveliness of having you so close, John knew something in you was shifting.

You were more…anxious. Looking for justification to trust.

Skittish but still coming to his presence so diligently.

Like you didn’t even know what you were afraid of.

No need to fear sweet lamb…I am with you…

You started to shift away from him then, but it almost seemed like he didn’t quite want you to go. His gaze still locked onto you. “I trust I’ll see you on Sunday?”

You laughed a little, “No, no I think I’ll skip it.”

His face seemed to fall for a moment, but when you didn’t stop smiling it clicked that you were joking. “Oh- yes…you’re kidding.” He smiled with you, “Please do come. It wouldn’t be the same without you.” Father Paul added earnestly.

You felt that tug in your chest just like when you had gone to the rectory to speak with him weeks ago.

You felt seen.

Appreciated.

“Well I…I’ll be there, Father. Rest.” You said, backing away, “Have a blessed night!”

John took a slow step toward you, but no more than that. He knew not to press his luck with your trust. Didn’t want to scare you off.

“And you, y/n.” He waved to you.

You turned and began your walk. But just as you had felt at home when Mass had begun, you felt a little empty as you walked away. You felt that tug grow more insistent the further you went; so much so that you turned before descending the hill to look back.

Father Hill was in discussion with Wade, but once you stood still, his head snapped to you.

You startled a little.

But it wasn’t so much the fact that he noticed you.

It was the strangest thing…you could have sworn you saw the light of the church catch his eyes and make them glint in the dark.

It happened so fast that you told yourself you just needed your day off. You were just tired.

You needed some sleep.

That was why you felt the contentment you had just been floating on start to drain away. That was why you felt so at ease when the Father spoke to you. Just tired.

You had no way of knowing then that it was the little bit of tainted blood in your system that was calling out to its patron. That it was humming around the others who shared the gift too…communicating internally with one another- somehow knowing that you’re like them.

By the time you were home, you felt as if the weight of the world was yours to uphold. Worry began to consume you as your thoughts swirled in the silence.

Riley was missing.

Joe was missing.

Pike was dead.

Bowl was missing.

You stopped brushing your hair for a moment. You hadn’t thought of the strange happenings like that before. Indeed there was quite a few. You had lived on Crockett your whole life you knew that the maximum a person could go missing for was a day and that was pushing it.

How long had Joe been missing…?

Your gut began to twist again, and you almost fell to your knees when you knelt to pray.

You didn’t know what was happening to you. To your home.

Fear began to encircle your heart, and you almost considered running back to the church to sleep on a pew.

You felt alone.

For the first time in a long time, you felt so very alone.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

@littleredwritingcat @zaunite-leo @f4er1e-g1rl @purplemotif @vampyre-kin @professional-sinner @hamishlinklaters @spacechupss @pansexualpamandabear @ebiemidnightlibrarian @erialuna @nilla-bear

[decaying-church]

Kinktober day 2: Threesome + Dwayne & Paul (The Lost Boys)

Dwayne (The Lost Boys) x Male!reader x Paul (The Lost Boys)

Kinktober 2023 List | Day 1 | Day 3 | Ao3

(A/n: 29 days left)

Summary: you wake up with not one, but two boyfriend in your bed!

Warning: Face riding, ass eating, blowjob, riding, threesome, reader gets held down, swearing, (technically) breaking and entering, not beta read.

Word count: 2k

It wasn't often you woke up sandwiched between two men- usually it was four, and not it your house. Apparently, Dwayne and Paul missed you enough to drive to your house in the middle of the night and crawl into bed with you- not to sleep, not to watch you sleep. Your heart dropped into your stomach when you woke up around four in the morning and found Paul, as beautiful as he was, three inches away from your face.

“Jesus fucking Christ!”

You would have fallen out of bed if it weren't for Dwayne who laid comfortably behind you- not comfortable for you, you didn't know he was there and damn near had a stroke when he wrapped his arms around.

“Your heart’s beating pretty fast!” Paul said, smiling like he hadn't just scared you shitless.

“Well fuck, I wonder why!” you said, fully awake now.

You rubbed your eyes, blinking hard, the only light in the room was the little desk lamp that Paul seemingly turned on every time he was in your bedroom.

“When did you two get here?”

Paul looked at Dwayne, Dwayne gave no response.

“Sometime between 9 pm and 4 am..”

“Oh so anytime after the sun went down to now.”

“Basically.” he grinned.

Wordlessly, you rolled over.

“Morning.” he said.

“Good morning, how long have you two been here?”

“‘Bout 5 hours.”

You laid flat on your back, “you've been sitting here watching me sleep for 5 hours?”

They looked at each other again. Neither of them sleeps at night so it's not like they could use that as an excuse. The longer they stared at each other, like they were telepathically trying to come up with an excuse, the more sure you became that they were, in fact, sitting and watching you in the dark.

“Fucking creeps..” you said, but your tone held no real burden, and a small smile found it's way on your face as you slid out of Dwayne grip and out of bed.

Before they could drag you back down, you walked over to the backroom and locked the door, not like that could really stop them.

You pissed, brushed your teeth, and washed your face before walking back out.

You were gone for eight minutes, max.

When you came back the currents were drawn shut and the over head light was on. The most jarring change though was Dwayne and Paul humping like dogs in your bed. With Paul situated in Dwayne's lap, grinding their crotches together like the world was going to explode if they didn't, all while Dwayne guided him with firm hands on his hip.

You blinked.

They stopped after a moment, Paul climbed off of Dwayne, sitting next to him with his legs cocked wide open, a bulge pressing tightly against his white jeans, smirking as he rested against your pillows.

Dwayne wasn't any better, his pants were unbuttoned and pulled slightly down on his hip. One leg hanging off the bed, he stared right into you damn soul, eyes as intense as always.

The two of them stared at you so expectantly, they weren’t even going to ask, they were just going to wait for you to come to them. Which you were, you were tired and a little confused, but definitely not dumb enough to let this opportunity pass. Resisting the urge to roll your eyes at their shared cockiness, you climbed onto the bed, almost immediately you were attacked by Paul- fully attacked, he tackled you down to the bed, climbing on top of you in a similar way to how he was with Dwayne.

He kissed wherever he could reach, his long, blonde hair falling in your face when he came to kiss your lips. With your hand on his thigh, you flipped- later he would say that you ‘threw’ him, you did not- off of you.

Before you could push yourself up, your arms were grappled and pinned above you, looking up, you could see Dwayne smirking down at you.

You tried to pull your wrist away, only for him to hold you tighter, not like you were going anywhere to begin with, fucking vampire strength. The moment you were distracted by Dwayne, Paul acted, seating himself on your thighs, closer to your knees than anything, and pulling your pants down all too eagerly, you glared at him when you heard a small rip.

“Paul,” Dwayne warned, “gently, remember?”

“I know, I know,” he looked down at you, a small smile on his face, “sorry.”

Despite his words, you could tell he wasn’t even remotely sorry, which was only proven when he fully ripped your pants before, they could have been fixed before, but now they were in prices on your bedroom floor.

“Goddamnit, Paul!”

“They were ripped!”

“I could have fixed them!”

He groaned and rolled his eyes, “Fine, fine! I’ll makes it up to you.”

Before the bargain for a new pair of pajama pants could start, you felt a warm, wet stripe against your cock, you gasped, your body tendering in surprise for a short moment before relaxing again, he continued, mouthing at your cock through your underwear, with Dwayne pinning you down to keep you from escalating things. Paul, with all the same vampiric strength that Dwayne and the other boys had, grabbed you by the waist, but didn’t stop you from thrusting up against his mouth, he liked it far too much for that.

He tried to be patient and gentle like Dwayne had told him to be but he couldn’t, he watched as your head fell back against the bed, a long moan coming from deep in your chest when he swirled his tongue around the tip of your cock.

A second later, your underwear were in tatters on the floor with your pants. You didn't have time to think about the loss of contact- and underwear- Paul took well over half of your cock into his mouth, moaning around it- you weren't shocked, he's done this to you dozens of times before, but it felt so good every time. He was beyond skilled with his tongue, running it over every little sensitive spot you provided to him, drawing shapes with it.

Cracking your eyes open you could see Dwayne staring at Paul, a small smirk on his face. You could see how hard he was, Paul having clearly done a number on the both of you, but with the way he was pinning you down, you couldn’t do anything about it. He was always the silent observer of the group anyway, you figured just watching would satisfy him for now.

Saliva and pre-cum covered both your cock and the inside of his mouth, and the moment he felt that you were ready, he pulled off with a wet ‘pop’.

You didn’t whine or beg, you knew that these two had far too high of sex drives for this to be over so soon.

You looked up at Dwayne, then down at Paul, who didn’t exchange a single word with each other before simultaneously jumping into action. You let out a small laugh as Paul struggled to get his pants off, surprisingly, he did eventually get them off in one piece.

Dwayne let go of your wrist, you watched him as he swapped places with Paul, except he practically sat himself on top of your cock. You don’t know when he lost his pant, but when you looked, his hard, leaking cock was pressed right up against yours.

“Okay, so-“ Paul started with a wide smile on his face, he was almost giddy as he began explaining their little plan to you, “Me and Dwayne were talking about this all night! We were talking about our fantasies and stuff- just guy stuff y’know and-

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

“-is it weird that I think about riding Y/n, like all the time?”

Dwayne hummed before responding, “No, I think about it too, it’s not weird.”

Paul propped himself up on his arm, “Okay but I think about riding his face a lot, is that even possible with him?”

“You’ve done it with David-“

“I know, but it’s different, vampires can’t suffocate, humans can!”

“I doubt that you’ll suffocate him.”

“I might!”

You stirred in your sleep at the sudden noise, both boys went quiet for a moment, waiting for you to settle again. When you did, Dwayne whispered to Paul, “Just be gentle with him and he’ll be fine.”

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

“-then while you were in the bathroom-“

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

“Fuck he looks good-“

“You’ve been staring at him all night, of course he looks good to you.”

“You stared just as much as I did!”

“He faced you for the first 5 hours-”

“Whatever, whatever..”

Silence passed between them for a few moments.

“…you think he'd be down for it?”

“For what?”

“Letting me sit on his face, you think he'd let me?”

“Probably…”

Another silence.

“You wanna tag team him..?”

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

“-and that's just my really long winded way of asking if I can ride your face with Dwayne rides your dick?”

“You underhanded, sneaky, little motherfucker- you too Dwayne!”

“Yes, yes, all of that, but are you going to do it?”

“Of course I am!”

Again, you weren't stupid and you weren't going to let an opportunity pass you.

It didn't take the three of you long to get comfortable. Paul held himself open just inches from your face and Dwayne was already pressing the tip of your cock against his entrance. Dwayne sunk down slowly, appreciating the burning stretch every inch brought, Paul sat on your face like it was a goddamn chair. You moaned as Dwayne rode you, right against Paul’s hole. You figured that there was no better time to start. Taking both his hips into your hands, you held him steady as you prodded at his hole with your tongue, pressing inside with a bit of force. Already, he whined and tried to press more into himself, and you have him more, hearing him moan and watching as he used one hair to grab onto your hair, and the other to hold onto the head board, trying to stable himself.

You couldn't see Dwayne but you could feel him, he rode nice and slow, enjoying every bit of your cock to the fullest, even with Paul’s thoughts almost covering your ears you could still hear his soft, deep moans. Testing, you met him with a thrust, making his body jerk before settling again.

You focused back on Paul, he was much louder than Dwayne, with so much more energy coursing through his body. He wrapped his hand around his cock, low murmurs and desperate whines flowing like a river from his mouth.

“Yes, yes- ha- ah, mhh~! Right there, right there, please!”

You listened, pressing your tongue firmly inside him, his legs snapped shut, and his grip on your hair grew tighter before releasing completely, joining the other in damn near breaking your headboard. Slowly, panting hard, he opened his legs again, cum dripping all over his thigh and down to your face, a drop landing on your cheek.

He sat like that for a long moment, either trying to resituate his mind or come to terms with how fast and how hard he’d just cum.

Eventually, he rolled off of you and splayed out on the other side of the bed.

Dwayne stopped for a moment, wordlessly staring at the other man, he didn't say anything and didn't continue riding you until Paul gave him a thumbs up, albeit a tired one.

He rode you harder, bouncing on your cock, his hands gripping your shoulders, loud, wet slapping filled the room.

It didn't take you long to finish inside of him, he was wonderfully tight, even after repeatedly slamming your cock into himself. You didn't stop him though, letting him ride to his heart's content. A few moments later his eyes squeezed shut and his mouth fell open in a silent moan. Cum shot out of his cock, splattering against your chest.

He sat there warming your cock for another long moment before lifting off. He dropped on the opposite side of you. Just as clingy as he always was after sex, tossing his arm across your chest.

Paul, who seemed to be having trouble keeping his eyes open, let a goofy smile graze his face.

“Best ride ever, right Dwayne?”

Dwayne let out a small, tired laugh. Cuddling further into you with a satisfied smirk on his face.

[iamyourdailydoseofbi]

THE WORST GUY TO SHARE A BLUNT WITH. ( HOTD x READER )

AUTHOR NOTE! Thanks for all the love. <3 pairing: Aegon Targaryen x Reader prompt : Aegon is the worst kind of person to smoke with. word count: 1, 298+ words

It wasn't too often that you smoked. You hated the bitter taste of tobacco from cheap cigarettes and standing out in the freezing cold just to be able to smoke. But, when work got on your ass⎯which it often did⎯a soda or a cigarette were better than taking a baseball bat to your boss's and co-worker’s car. 

Helaena’s joking words, “There’s no Netflix in prison” and “What am I going to do if you’re in prison?”, often floated around as well. Like shit were you going to leave Helaena all alone with nobody but Aegon to keep her company whilst you are in prison. That was the only motivation you had. No matter how beautiful it looked in your head to see the remains of your boss’s prized sports car.

Then there was Aegon. A dick at times, but was trying to be what he thought was ‘funny’ and ‘kind’. Of course, the trio of assholes who trailed behind him and were total ‘yes’ men didn’t help. Though, there were moments where he was kind and sweet. Rare, but still moments of the man behind the booze loving part boy mask. 

Then there was Aegon. A dick at times, but was trying to be what he thought was ‘funny’ and ‘kind’. Of course, the trio of assholes who trailed behind him and were total ‘yes’ men didn’t help. Though, there were moments where he was kind and sweet. Rare, but still moments of the man behind the booze loving part boy mask. 

He loved his golden retriever, Sunfyre, in a way that you never thought he could love something. He liked to eat edibles over smoking, though when he did smoke, it was usually for aesthetics or to look attractive to girls. He often threw parties just to get praise for them, as it was the only time that someone would praise him willingly. 

He was also the worst kind of guy to share a blunt with.

Sitting huddled up on the tiny back porch of Helaena’s house, you watch as the rain pours down hard, a cold chill in the air. The world was shit and the urge to just quit your shitty campus job was high. Double shifts. They wanted you to work double shifts on top of your already stressful juggle between work and College, because “Paul doesn’t wanna work Tuesday’s..” But, money was needed to continue with your studies. So you gritted and bore it. 

Blinking away the tears that bubbled in your eyes, you take a long drag of the cigarette, nose wrinkling up at the bitter taste of cheap tobacco on your tongue. Letting out a shaky breath, you truly wanted to quit, to watch the glorious look of panic on their faces as the realization they would have to take on your workload. Bouncing your knee up and down, you put the cigarette down on the ashtray, wiping the tears that brewed in your eyes.

“No, no, no. Stop it. Stop it.” You mumble, wiping your nose clean.

“Stop what? I haven’t even done anything yet!” A familiar voice whines, making you jump.

Turning your head towards him like you were in a horror movie, he was completely and utterly soaking wet, resembling a sad drenched cat. A big pout on his lips and wet puppy dog eyes. He was pathetic, truly and utterly pathetic. Narrowing your eyes at him, you scoot away from him, not wanting to be dragged into his nonsense.

Whatever reason Helaena had kicked out of the house was not your problem. Hearing him let out a whiny huff, you refuse to look at him, knowing his tricks. It was the same old cycle. He’d huff and puff, give you big pouty eyes, and then start talking and talking about whatever things were making him so pouty⎯expecting comfort from you.

“You know..” He stares, making you scowl deeper.

“Nope.” You grunt out bluntly.

“Oh, come on! No one wants to hear me speak, Y/n. I just want to talk, is that so bad?” 

Was he being fucking serious? This was supposed to be your moment. This was supposed to be your little main character moment, the part where the sad music plays and you cry. The audience would weep on your behalf. Then, the rain would stop and all would be well. How dare he try to steal this little moment from you? Doing your best to ignore him, he sits on the step next to you, his soggy clothes leaving a growing puddle on the step. Moving to sit on the step above him, you grab the cigarette from the ashtray, taking the last drag of it before leaving it to die out. 

“I got kicked out of my parent’s house, you know? Dad has Rhaenyra over and Mom’s been all stressed and stuff. She had the maids clean the house and stuff. She had them kick me out too, not wanting me to trigger her and stuff..” He rambles on, “Stupid, right? I was out all day and when I came home to sleep, she refused to let me in! Rhaenyra wasn’t even home at the time!”

"Are you seriously trauma dumping whilst I am smoking my cigarette?" You ask, a deadpan expression on your face. 

"Yes." He nods, an almost proud look on his face. 

"You're a dick." You huff, blowing out the smoke from the now dead cigarette. 

Giving you a big cheeky smile, he snatches the box of cigarettes from the now soaked step of the porch he sat on. Wrinkling your nose up as he holds a soggy cigarette between his teeth, it was revolting, the thought of smoking a soggy cigarette. It was better to not even smoke at that point. But, Aegon had no shame. Truly no shame. He was the kind of guy to shout, “Five second rule!”, before scarfing down a burger that had been dropped on the floor. Or to do the ‘walk of shame’ with a proud smirk and swagger in his step. 

Rolling your eyes hard at his childish antics, he holds his hand out to you, expecting you to hand over your lighter. Throwing the lighter in his face, you knew that it was wrong to do so, it was only encouraging him to stick around. But, it was better than crying your eyes out. He was a pest, but he was a pretty one⎯when he kept his mouth shut. If you had duct tape, you’d take his mouth shut so he couldn’t ruin the moment by speaking. Lighting the soggy cigarette with a big smile, he lets out a drag of it, the cigarette half bent in the middle from the paper being wet. 

“That’s good, personally, I would eat an edible over this, but it will work. Anyways, Mom kicked me out. Then the worst thing happened to me⎯” He rambles on, like nothing had happened.

“What’s happening?” You mumble, staring out into the rain.

“My car broke down, of all times to break down, this was the perfect moment!” He huffs, flicking the ash into the ashtray. 

“Am I dead?” You whisper, a loud crack of thunder booming.

Watching the sky light up from lightning, you shift your eyes onto him, watching him speak. He just talked and talked, unaware of the world around him. Tiny droplets of rain trickling down his forehead, his clothes making a disgusting squelching sound each time he moves around on the porch step. You would think he’d be really pretty like this, if it wasn’t for the fact that he stole your cigarette, bugged your alone time, and was rambling on about the stupidest conversation ever.

“Is this my wake? Am I in hell?” You mumble, wondering what you had done to deserve this fate.