#catskill chill

[lazyjellyfish300]

12 𝑫𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝑺𝒎𝒖𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒔 ~ 𝑫𝒂𝒚 𝑻𝒘𝒐

Synopsis: It's the classic Hallmark tale: what happens when you, a business woman from the city, arrives at the family owned O'Hara Christmas Tree farm your greedy boss wants to demolish, and finds much more than you bargained for that fateful night you get snowed in?

CW: x FEM!READER, SMUT(unprotected p in v ,oral (f receiving), creampie, breast play, touch of mirror kink) enemies to lovers ish, DUBCON?(You're both a bit drunk), alcohol, touch of angst, mention of pregnancy

Words: 4.4k

A/N: a little late, mb but I hope it's worth it!😩 I'm on vacation rn but I'm dedicated to making this happen even if I'm a lil behind lolol

Dividers: @/saradika-graphics

12 Days of Smutmas Masterlist 🎄🎁

You certainly weren't in Kansas anymore. Or so the saying went. This time you found yourself somewhere in the Catskills outside of Nueva York. Your high heels crunched on the gravel as you stepped out of your Uber, taking in the grand Christmas tree farm in front of you. 

"O'Hara Ranch" was welded in iron lettering on a black sign above the entrance. You whistled as you took in the expansive acres of balsam fir trees, dusted in a thin layer of snow straight out of a painting. 

It was no wonder your boss was so dead set on this place. You became keenly aware of the biting chill of the countryside as you huddled your arms closer around you, your pink blazer doing little to keep you warm as you started to quake in your Jimmy Choos with your laptop case and singular carry-on in tow.

---- 

Miguel grunted, scratching his lower back as his large, sturdy boots squeaked a little on his kitchen floor, eyes almost as dark as the warm beverage in his mug, looking out in silent disapproval at the black Escalade that pulled up, dropping off what he was certain was another employee from that pesky developer.

Some poor soul who had to be the shot messenger for a CEO who never strayed out of the wealthy privileged fairytale land they lived in, thinking that multiple commas would be enough to get him to sign his life away. 

When would they ever learn? He thought. He puts down his mug on the counter then strides over to the door, placing one of his hats on his head before he goes outside to greet this new imposter. 

---

You shuddered as you reached inside your pocket, taking out the flimsy scrap of paper that contained the phone number for the ranch and dialing it again, hoping to reach this Miguel, or whoever it was you were supposed to meet. 

"C'mon..." 

You shouldn't be surprised if he didn't pick up again. It was no secret that you were the bad guy in this situation straight out of a Hallmark film. 

Corporate business lady visiting a Christmas Tree farm that's been in the same family for decades, beloved by all the locals, who forced them to sign over their American dream to a greedy land developer and demolish it to the ground for a lavish mountain resort, and 2 weeks before Christmas no less. 

Just as the call goes to voicemail, a four wheeler's engine interrupts your train of thought. Just like out of a movie, you take notice of the very tall, dark haired, very handsome rider who sat astride it.

His long sleeved grey shirt did nothing but accentuate his rippling arm muscles, layered underneath a Carhartt vest, complete with a baseball cap and salt and pepper five o clock shadow on his sharp, steely jaw. His lips were plump and relaxed into a subtle frown, complete with thick brows and dark wavy hair that complimented the pair of rich brown eyes he possessed that compared to the slice of Earth he owned. 

"Miss...?" He asks your name with an equally deep beautiful voice to match in slightly bored formality. You could tell it was painful for him to be polite to you like this, if you were the corporate imposter like he thought you were.  

"Yes, hi! You're...M-Miguel, right?" 

His expression remains unmoved. "That would be me." 

"It's a pleasure to meet you. Gorgeous property by the way! Really, it's much much better in person than the pictures-" 

"Right." He replies stiffly. "There's really no need to be so gracious.  I figure you're here for one thing and one thing only." 

"Uh-" you reply, a little thrown off by what he means. 

"And the answer is no. I understand you've got a job to do, but I've told your boss over and over again: no. Five years ago, it was a no. Last month, also no. Come back in a week, my answer will still be no. Thank you." 

He revs the engine, getting ready to speed away. 

"Wait! I really do need you to sign this! From the mayor?" You waved a pink colored document which caught his attention for once. 

Miguel turned off the engine, hopping off the four wheeler and strode towards you. He shoots you a superstitious glance before his eyes flicker to the paper, slowly becoming more enraged as he scanned along the fine print:

 Notice of Eminent Domain. 

That bastard. There was a reason Miguel didn't vote for this prick. The new mayor was part of this recent wave of money hungry idealists in power who wanted to turn the humble town he grew up in into another rich touristy playground. 

Usually, these folks couldn't wait to sign the dotted line, get their check, and be on their merry way, but this Miguel was taking his time reading every last stipulation in the document. You notice the snow is coming down harder and harder, your teeth chattering wildly as you did your very best to stay calm as the relentless cold tested your endurance. Finally, Miguel hands you back the paper with a sigh, 

"Still not signin'. Sorry for wasting your time." 

"Miguel." You felt your patience snapped in half by now. Between traveling all morning, your boss's incessant emails, and the cold ass weather, you had just about had it up to here. 

"I'm sorry. But any complaints you have will just have to be taken up with the big man later. I came with a job to do and I have every intention of doing it." 

"That so?" Miguel straightens up, flexing his height over you. 

You were emboldened by this point through all the bullshit you had endured. "It is very much so. I'm not leaving this damn farm without a signature, and that's final." 

"Hm." Miguel nodded his chin, as though he was calling your bluff before he swiftly turned around, walking back towards the awaiting four wheeler. 

"Oh no you don't!" You huffed as your icecubes for feet magically thawed off of pure adrenaline and spite as you began to sprint. 

"What the-" Miguel looks at you quizzically then his brow furrows when he sees you darting towards his four wheeler. "The hell you think you're doing??" 

You ignore him and climb on, Miguel snickering a little bit at the prim and proper lady from the city now straddling his seat, slightly disheveled with a wild look in your eye from dealing with corporate messes all day. 

"Get down." Miguel says sternly, coming up to stand next to you. 

"No." You answer simply, smoothing your blazer. 

"Don't make this harder than it needs to be." Miguel's tone becomes more warning now. "Get off my property, woman." 

"Sign my document, then." You fold your arms. 

"You're a brat, y'know that?" Miguel folds his arms too, incredulous at your undying persistence, more like annoyance. "So childish." 

"Name calling? And you say I'm the childish one." You turn your nose up at him.

"I'm not the crazy lady jumping on a stranger's four wheeler that she doesn't even know how to drive." Miguel grumbles. 

"You'd be surprised." You glare. 

Both of you just sit there in silence, the snowfall has  escalated to just short of a blizzard by now. You're trying but failing to conceal just how damn cold you are as you shiver and shudder. Miguel's mind brews with some ideas before he speaks. 

"Alright." Miguel sighs "I'll sign your damn document. But I need to show you the place first. Just so you can get an idea of just how sick and twisted you people truly are: tearing down a place like this that's been in the family for generations." 

"What?" You blink, not expecting this change of events. "But I mean- but..." You glance at your wrist watch. "It's almost 4 pm. I was supposed to be on the road a half hour ago." 

"Not in this storm you're not." Miguel tsks his teeth. "They always close the canyon when it snows. You won't be able to go anywhere until the morning. But hey, if you wanna call an Uber and wait four hours for him just to be turned around at the bridge, then be my guest." 

"You-" You shuddered and groaned, exasperated at the fact that Miguel appeared to have the upper hand this time. You were stuck playing by his rules. 

"Fine." You resign, throwing your hands up. 

Miguel smirks at this surrender in you, getting on the four wheeler behind you. He's aware the space between your bodies is now very thin, his chest just barely grazing your back as he leans forward, placing his hands on both handlebars. 

You try not to make it obvious that you can't breathe and realize you might be in way over your head being stuck overnight with a man four times handsome as he was stubborn as Miguel drives you rapidly towards his ranch. 

---- 

"Home sweet home." Miguel hums halfheartedly as you enter the elaborate living area of Miguel's mountain home. Several brown and white cowhide rugs were spread over the polished wooden floors, a large pair of antlers hung over a luxury stone hearth, with an inviting leather couch in front of it. 

A short time later, you're absentmindedly staring at some photographs on the wall when Miguel's voice startles you. 

"Had enough snooping?" 

"I wasn't snooping!." You whirl around, pretending to avert your gaze. "I was admiring the antlers." 

Miguel scoffs. "You're a terrible liar, you know." 

"Who is that?" You ask, voice a little more gentle. You kind of wish you never asked when Miguel's eyes soften with the slightest tinge of melancholy. 

"My daughter." He answers then clears his throat. "She passed some years ago." 

"Oh..." You look at him then back at the photograph of the cheery bright eyed girl in it. "I'm so sorry." 

"Thanks." Miguel answers shortly, crossing over to the bar on the far side of the room. 

"I can see why you don't want to leave." You admit, crossing your arms and running your palms up your arms as the glow from the fireplace worked quickly to rid you of any lingering chill from outside. "For what it's worth..." 

Miguel scoffed again. "You don't need to play the sympathy card to win points with me." 

"I- No Miguel! Of course not!" You look at him in horror. "Really, you think I take pride in doing these things to folks like you? You think I'm some souless corporate ghoul that drinks blood of the innocent?" 

"Yes." Miguel stays deadpanned, with the faintest glimmer of amusement. 

"Oh shut up." You blow air through your lips and stride over to where he's standing by his bar. "What do you have to drink around here anyways?" 

Miguel smiles, the bourbon in his glass had made him feel a little more comfortable by now. He glanced outside, eyes slightly widened in surprise at the complete blizzard that was unfolding outside the frosty window. 

"You might wanna go for something a bit stronger than that." Miguel nods in the direction of the window. 

Your fingers move away from the canned margaritas in the mini fridge. You realize bourbon is also the answer tonight when you lay eyes on the absolute winter wonderland outside. 

You had never seen so much snow in your life, as a seemingly infinite stream of snowflakes littered the staggering blankets of pure white that would be nearly waist deep should you venture back out. 

Even though the night was completely black, the shimmery powder stood out, illuminating the December night among the silent and formidable evergreens. 

"Damn..." You whispered. 

"Damn is right." Miguel polishes off his bourbon. "Another round for me too, when you get a chance." He slides his glass towards you across the polished wood. 

"Please?" You quirk a brow at him. 

Miguel chuckles, the sound deep and a little breathy. The feeling it left you...quite unexpected. "Yes, please."

You hum and fill his glass a quarter of the way after you pour your own into one of the small shot glasses you spied below the countertop, throwing the liquid fire back in one ragged gulp. 

Miguel laughs at the face you make and little cough you let out as your eyes water. "Miss Corporate can't handle a little country bourbon?" 

"Miss Corporate can handle herself just fine." You give him a small harrumph. "Miss Corporate wishes to remind Mr. Country Man that she is still here strictly on business and she has no problem decking him in the face should he continue to mouth off." 

"Hmmm business, eh?" 

"Mhmm." 

"Oh, I think we're way past that." Miguel smirks as he leans forward a little closer towards you. "You're having a drink with your evictee. Can't imagine that's not frowned upon." 

"I've had drinks with clients before." You huff, hastily grabbing the bottle and pouring another shot as if to prove a point. This one went down with less resistance, albeit still just as fiery as the one before. 

"Cálmate."(Calm down) Miguel goes to grab the bottle from you just as you're about to pour a third when the sudden move causes the bourbon to splash a little, ending up on your thousand dollar blazer. 

"You... idiot." You roll your eyes as Miguel snorts. 

"Hey, hey, I'm sorry." Miguel steps towards you, trying to help. 

"Nope, you've done quite enough." You huff, trying to disguise the warmth the alcohol was quickly dispelling all over your body. 

"I insist." 

"Miguel, fuck off!" 

"Come here, dammit..." 

And you're not sure exactly what happened, but in that moment his body was pressed up against yours and your faces were mere inches from one another.

This was dangerous now. You knew it, and he knew it, but for Miguel, he was at risk of losing everything anyway. Who could blame him if he wasn't going to make the most of this...convenient situation that presented itself to him. It didn't help that you were quite easy on the eyes as well. 

He pauses as if holding his breath, those deep, deep eyes completely swallowing you up where you stood, the faint sting of the bourbon you can detect on his lips that he wet ever so slightly. 

"M-Miguel, I really shouldn't, I-" 

And you can't remember exactly what drove your lips to meet in that heady first kiss, or how his touch moved from your face, to your neck, whether you were the one who guided him, or his hands wandered on their own accord to the sensitive swells of your breasts, but here you were, up against this tall, rugged farmer you thought you hated only 20 minutes ago, breathing and panting into his mouth and kissing him like your life depended on it, completely contradicting everything you ever said. 

He began to rock his hips against you, hands now on either side of your head, caging you against the wall. You could tell he loved being bigger than you, finally something he had to humble all the sass you loved to throw at him earlier. A not-so-secret attraction you had for him all this time you feebly tried to disguise with disdain. 

Miguel felt it too, and God, right now he couldn't get enough of all the little whines and sounds you were making. How desperate you got just from a little deep conversation and bourbon. This night was swiftly traveling in a more heated direction, and if he wasn't mistaken by the subtle rolls of your body against his aching bulge in his jeans and the hunger laced in your fingers as they tangled in his hair, you had no intention of stopping. 

"Not so feisty now, are you?" He groaned as he started leaving heated kisses along both delicate junctures of your neck. "Sure you're not gonna change your mind  and go back to stealing my farm, hermosa?" He teased. 

"Oh, fuck off..." You grumbled and then bit your lip, back arching involuntarily when you felt him just barely tug your delicate nipple with his teeth. "Aaah Aahhh, Miguel..." You threw your head back.

Miguel smirks and takes that as permission to lay you back completely on his bar, gently tugging the waistband of your business slacks while he switched between both tits and lapped them with the pointy tip of his tongue, until both buds of your nipples were bumpy and hard from all the attention. "You can still stop at any time..." 

"N-No more asking..." You managed to sputter out as you felt his fingers begin to wiggle against your clothed heat that was steadily soaking from the inside. "Just- fffuck, Miguel, so good...just fuck me..." 

"Mmmm..." Miguel groaned in satisfaction and yanked off your pants, followed by your panties without another word. 

Pure ecstacy rolled off the tip of his tongue and dripped between your warm folds as he began to slurp your pussy up like hot cocoa. Miguel strategically left your high heels on, smirking as he glanced over at the mirror on the wall, seeing the pretty businesswoman half naked and back arched so beautifully, moaning as he ate you out on his bar. 

Despite never knowing your body before, his tongue just seemed to find and hit all the right spots, even the ones you were too impatient to look for when you laid in bed all alone. He sucked, and he spit, rolling your clit so perfectly between his lips and leaving no inch of your pretty pussy unbathed by his tongue. 

He alternated between tongue fucking you where his thick nose squished against your clit, hands slinking up the soft flesh of your hips, encouraging you to grind on his face. When he paused and brought his face up to look at you, you swore he was never more handsome than when his face was shiny with your slick, dripping with the evidence that he could make you wetter than any man you'd ever been with.

And other times, he loved to just stare into your eyes with that same, beautifully mesmerizing gaze that was almost too intense to where you'd have to turn away, only for him to whisper, "ah, ah, mirame..." (Look at me) , while his thumb slowly rubbed over your swollen clit, and his middle and ring finger noisily and wetly massaged your squishy walls. 

"Miguel, baby, so good..." You moaned and you sighed, face twisting into a smile as you bit your lip. It felt so shameless to indulge right now. Your career hit the road the second you decided to kiss him but right now you weren't complaining. Logic took a permanent vacation leaving you with nothing but raw, carnal need. All that mattered right now was spreading your legs for this man, being his whore, riding his face and taking his cock every which way he'd have you tonight. 

Your eyes watered as you felt that familiar feeling swelling in your belly, thighs shaking more unsteadily than before. Your back slightly arched from where you laid on his bar but the pleasure Miguel kept injecting into you with his sinfully delicious tongue kept you right there.

"M-Miguel...I'm gonna cum." 

Miguel went even harder, nuzzling his nose even further into your dripping heat, savoring the dribbling honey running between your thighs and dripping into his mouth. He added his fingers again, fingers normally rough and taut and calloused from all that work he did on the farm became soft, intentional, sensual, and deliberate as he coaxed your pussy closer and closer to releasing all over for him.

Your thighs began to quiver around his head, clamping down, however Miguel would gladly suffocate every time for the cause.

"R-right there, Miguel..." 

"Right here, baby?" He groans, swirling his finger in circles over that tried and true spot on your clit, another gush of your juices wetting his fingers before the flood, and Miguel leans over to clean it up with his tongue. 

Every touch now feels amplified in electricity, bordering on overstimulation as his tongue glosses over your soaked folds, something changing in your brain chemistry as he licked up every bit of your arousal as though it were frosting from a bowl. 

"Still with me?" Miguel whispered, leaning in and making out with you as he scooped you into his arms, leading you over to the couch, the entire room painted in an alluring orange glow from the fire next to the warm yellow lights from the tall Christmas tree. 

You groaned as you tasted yourself on his soft, messy lips, the ember of desire burning hotter than ever in both of you. "Y-yeah..." 

Miguel smiles as he sets you down next to him, reaching over and pulling a fleece blanket over your shoulders. His thumb gently brushed the corner of your mouth as he took you in. The most sobering moment between you all evening. One where the alcohol had some time to sink in and both of you were riding out the end of your high together. A new kind of closeness beginning to set itself alight between you as you wordlessly began stripping off the rest of your clothes and you reached for his. 

"Can I?" You asked and a low groan rumbled from his chest. 

"Please." 

You weren't sure, but somehow despite his sass, his generosity and sole focus on making you cum with no assumption on his part that you would be obligated to do the same for him made you even more determined as you peeled back layer after layer, until he sat there in all of his naked glory in front of you. 

He was absolutely beautiful. The salt and pepper pattern from his stubble on his jaw was repeated in his happy trail, leading to a nice, thick, bush around the base of his thick, veiny, cock (More fun for you when you'd be riding him into next week later on).

The tip was just barely a hint of red as it bloomed with precum.  His legs and arms were hairy as well, stomach soft with just the right amount of pudge but everywhere else was solid pure muscle that could only be found on a man who worked hard in the elements, dark hair tousled a bit that fell in his eyes from your passionate fingers earlier. 

The throbbing ache pounded, the glistening sheen between your thighs was all the lube you needed as he pulled you into his lap. Miguel's eyes remained completely locked on you, softening a bit as he felt himself start to push inside you. 

He had suspected sometime around while you were moaning his name and he was lapping up your arousal like an oasis that this whole encounter was deeper than a hookup, and now, he realizes he's sunk: hook line and sinker as your pussy just grips and squeezes him. He sighs as his hands find residence on your hips, taking pleasure in kneading the soft fat. 

"Take your time...." He whispered as he noticed you struggling a bit under his sheer size, his girth slowly spreading you more open. Somehow though, the stretch felt more rewarding, more sinful as you became fuller and fuller of him as you just allowed yourself to relax. 

Miguel's cock bottomed out inside of you, an experimental twitch of his cock reminded you on all fronts that you were stuffed to the brim. He adored this, he loved being so close to you like this, loved the satisfaction that the woman who supposedly hated his guts at first was now completely putty in his hands as you wrapped effortlessly around him. 

"So damn warm..." Miguel purred as he began bouncing you in a slow rhythm. "Ah, ah, mas despacio, por favor(more slow please)..." He teased, grip tightening as he slowed your hips. "I wanna enjoy you like this for a while." He grunted and groaned, loving the way you just responded with more dripping slick around his base as he leaned in to suck on your tits while keeping himself buried inside. "If I'd known you felt this good I would've dragged you out of that fucking snow a lot earlier." He murmured before his lips puckered over your nipple. 

"Please, Mig..." You rolled your eyes but returned a chuckle with a sigh, gently rolling your hips while his cock remained warm and snug inside you. "I'll admit when you pulled up on that four wheeler, it was kind of hard not think about you bending me over the seat.." 

"Yeahh?" Miguel groaned as he churned his hips, drawing his cock in and out of your sea of wetness. "Shouldn't have told me that, now I might need to make that happen..."

As he spoke, his pace increased faster and faster. 

"Aaahh, Miguel...Miguel!" Your threshold was being tested on how much you could take, but nearly fell apart altogether when he added his thumb back to your clit while continuing to fuck up into you ruthlessly. 

"Come on baby, with me...let go."  

And your highs came in waves, yours first followed by his like a bursting dam. His cum overwhelmed your tight hole, causing it to dribble down the sides in filthy display but you loved it, shoving yourself back down on his cock with naughty enthusiasm. Miguel smirked at you, eyes still slightly dazed from euphoria. 

"Good to see you're not wasting any, baby." 

And before you knew it he picked you up, yelping slightly then giggling when you took the initiative of squeezing your thighs tighter around his waist, cock still softening slowly inside your silky pussy, but beginning to pulse back to life as you and Miguel began making out passionately while he took careful steps with you cradled in his arms to his bedroom. 

Perhaps by now you didn't have a job anymore, the future of Miguel's farm was still uncertain, surely you'd be the talk of the entire town come a few months later when your tummy would be swelling with the evidence of every steamy thing that took place tonight inside this snowed in ranch. But, for now, you had much harder, longer, thicker things on your mind as round two became three, then four, with a surprise fifth in the middle of the night and a sixth in the morning. 

When all is said and done, you could always just blame it on the snow. 

[peterspinkrobe]

Temptation | Priest!Miguel O’Hara x femreader [part 4]

W/C: 7,1k+ Go read the other chapters

Warnings/Rating: 18+. Religious content. Some Spanish. [smut spoilers ahead lol] ~~~~~~~~~~~ Reader has a vagina. Oral (f receiving). Some overstimulation. That’s all, babe.

A/N: so so so sorry it took so long. Thank you for your patience. I got real wrapped up in the chapter and work has been working me. Looking up flower symbolism and shit. Also, turns out the Bible has smut too. The scripture quoted throughout is from Song of Songs 4-7. Let me know what you think. Pic is something I found on Google (shame)

The chill of the evening air reminded the two who stepped into it that August was bleeding into September. Change was in the wind that carried hues of summer - fluttering down from trees that were shedding their warm colors for leaves of yellow, red, and orange gradients. The sun set earlier day by day as autumn approached the little town hidden in the Catskills mountain belt.

As the sun buried itself deeper into the horizon, it cast an expanse of purples and blues on the clouds above the two making their way into the courtyard behind the church. The pair stole away, silently sneaking out a side door, while the others enjoyed their supper inside. They were accompanied only by the statues of winged angels frozen in time - pouring bowls of abundance into the garden.

Wildflowers burst from patches along the walkways as the tall man guides the follower to a bench situated beside a maple tree. He ducked to avoid the overhead branches as he sat down and invited the other to join him there.

Wild Asters sprouted on either side of the bench in large clusters, long stems shooting up petals of white and red. The one still standing admires the stark contrast between the backdrop of the natural world and the seated one’s black clothes and collared neck. No words have been exchanged since they stepped into the open air but the silent invitation of the large hand patting the open space made the other feel tingles, nonetheless.

The black clad man kept his hands in his lap and shot sideways glances at the one beside him. Their nerves caused them to bounce their knees rapidly. The silence and their nervousness was too much for the man to bear. He wanted to calm them down and reassure them that all was well. He placed his large hand on the other’s knee, halting the bobbing leg. The sudden touch caused them to look up at him into the stormy dark eyes that showed nothing but concern and curiosity. He spoke their name and the song brought them back to Earth.

__________________________________________

“Your confession last-” the deacon began, but was interrupted by your nervous apology.

“I’m so sorry that you had to hear all that. I am so embarrassed and I understand if you think I shouldn’t come here anymore. The last thing I want to do is get you in trouble or-.” This time you are interrupted by that large hand squeezing your leg gently. You look down and see the long-sleeved black dress shirt rolled up to his forearm, the muscle there too tight for it to roll up any further. The veins in his arms protrude and you trace one with your eyes that trails up his arm to the back on his hand. His palm envelopes your kneecap and the long fingers create a cage around the joint. You swallow your words and silently curse the clothes separating skin.

“Please… let me finish.” He brought his other hand to his face and pinched the bridge of his nose. He sounded strained, as if he had to get the words out or he would burst. Like the things he had to say were compacted in his skull and caused pressure to build between his eyes. You fell silent again and your eyes darted between the scrunched lids of his eyes.

“Ever since your confession I have been wanting to speak with you. I tried calling after you that day but I know I must have scared you.” Fear wasn’t the primary motive for hauling ass out that church as much as it was shame, but you didn’t want to interrupt him. “And then you weren’t here on Sunday… I realize after your confession that you’re only really here for your mother, but I so wished you were here that day so we could talk face to face.” He continued slightly solemnly.

“I hated that we didn’t get to speak on your struggles further and we weren’t able to close the confession as you deserved. You need to know that I hold no judgment towards you - that session was between you and Him. Everyone's path is different and faith isn’t cookie cutter.” He was so impassioned that when his eyes finally met yours again they lit up with excitement in his explanation.

“I owed a fellow man of the church a favor and I took over his confession shift that day last week. The fact that you came to confession that day… on that day of all days. To you all that may seem serendipitous or coincidental, that you felt that strange urge to release those doubts on the day that I was in the booth, but we in the business like to call that ‘God’s Timing’.” The worry and stress seem to melt away as he talks about your interaction in the booth, very different from the reaction you were expecting. His eyes brighten when you, him, and God are being mentioned in the same breath. He becomes more animated and gestures to the expanse of nature around the two of you.”You were meant to go there that day and say those words, I was meant to be there to hear them, as we are meant to be here now in this garden.”

His chest rises and falls from the excitement he feels. He was certain that this is what is felt to be overcome with the Spirit as he had seen in other churches. For the words to fall out without filters and not hold back the faith. When he lowers his eyes to yours again there is a soft smile in them that matches the one slightly stretching his lips.

“I don’t care if you don’t believe in what I preach,” He says this suddenly and his smile slowly fades into something more serious. “It doesn’t bother me that we don’t share the same faith in Christ.”

Heavy pause follows the revelation and you dare not interrupt him, giving him the time to express himself as he did for you in the booth. The setting sun shines rays into his eyes and they reflect back deep amber irises. Their brilliance bounces across your face like he is studying every inch of it - as if your countenance were a difficult passage in Numbers to interpret.

When he speaks again, you find that you aren't as drunk in the music of his voice. The notes are grounding and almost meditative.

“But what worries me is that you don’t share the same faith in yourself that I do. That you don’t see yourself as worthy of blessings when you are a blessing yourself.” The light chill in the air can’t keep the heat from creeping up your chest and neck. His tone became lighter as he went on.

“You are more than deserving of good things. I know our internal thoughts make us feel otherwise, but I need you to know that what they say to you isn't the truth. We all have personal demons that make us question ourselves.” He tilts his upper half more towards you and his large shoulders jut against the backdrop of maple branches and stirring leaves.

Slowly, so slowly, he slides his hand centimeters up your leg so it’s resting more on your thigh.

“I must also confess that I…” He inhales sharply and releases the words with his exhale, “I’m fighting against every urge in my body to maintain myself when I’m around you.” His brows furrow lightly as his other hand comes to cup your chin again, like he had that first time you’d met. The voice is now the smoky room of a jazz club reverberating lowly in the small distance between the two of you.

“Trying to uphold the principles that have nearly been beaten into me when you are in the same room,” he starts to lean in, “you don’t even have to be in the room, mí vicio, for temptation to threaten the sanctity of my profession.”

He tenses ever so slightly, you feel and hear the hesitation in his touch and voice.

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, or abuse my position..” he starts to pull his hands away, but you quickly grab his hand on your leg and grip his wrist to hold him there. His eyes widen at your response and his mouth hangs open slightly. A pointed canine dipping into his plump bottom lip as you move his hand to cup your cheek.

He brings his face to yours and looks into your eyes again before his stubborn raising escapes his lips, attempting to put his faith before pleasure, “Tell me to stop… tell me we can’t do this.” He presses his lips together and turns his head away a little. The anguish in the words makes you think he might crumble from the war in his mind.

You respond by closing the rest of the gap and pressing your lips onto his cheek. There is an evening shadow of hairs that poke into the soft kiss. He brings his eyes forward to lock back with yours and your noses bump together. Your breathing mixes and his shoulders rise and fall heavily and it seems as if he’s bracing himself with the grip on your leg. The temptation of just being close to you causes his lips to tremble.

“I don’t think you’ll burn in hell if we kiss,” you try to lighten his tension some and he does chuckle as you feel the shaky breathing on your cheeks.

“Funny.” He quips, but he doesn’t say aloud that he’s already burning. His insides are on fire at the feeling of you in his hands. He knows his soul is doomed if fantasy is enough to condemn. He’d burn for the images he’s pictured of you, the positions his imagination puts you in, and for the way his body is reacting to your permissive responses now. The fact that you want this as much as him makes holding back more difficult.

The anticipation that hung from your pout was too much for him and he whispered to himself before pulling your chin up and kissing you.

Just a press of lips against lips. They brushed against each other as your noses moved to accommodate for the space removed. That first kiss was brief, an innocent expression of the brewing affection between you. Yet, it was laden with complex emotions. A small jolt of electricity sparks from Miguel's chest at the kiss and his heartbeat echoed like a drum in his chest.

He was taken aback at how the simple, sweet kiss had made his head spin and when your lips parted he saw your eyes reflecting desire in their haze. Your eyes closed again and allowed your lips to guide the way.

The two of you traded little pecks and pleasure courses through his body. His hand from your knee now held your right hip and the cupped palm now snaked behind your neck and held your head to his as he deepened the kiss. It was harder to hold back as the deacon’s lust, his want, his desire, was too strong. He peaked down through slitted lids at your hands holding the chest of his shirt in fists and grunted against your closed mouths.

Unadulterated passion overwhelmed him and he poked the tip of his tongue to your lips in request. In those cold showers he had taken to try and control his thoughts, he had instead sinfully prayed to feel the inside of your mouth with his tongue, his fingers, and his currently tented dick. Your receptiveness made him nearly whine when you opened your lips in invitation. The buzz in his brain made him lose his inhibitions as he greedily licked into your mouth. He explored your slick cheeks and your tongues clashed together in their first meeting.

As your tongues danced between your mouths, you found that you were the one having to pull away for breath. Father Miguel’s face had reddened from lack of oxygen since he was prioritizing kissing you inside of breathing. His eyes would open halfway, his eyebrows would knit together in a pleading manner, and his pursed lips were swollen when you pulled away. Strands of his dark hair dangled into his forehead. The desperation on his face and in his grip on you was certainly a sight to behold. It was alluring that he was so affected just by kissing, you imagined just how sensitive he must be. It would be a lie to say you weren’t also feeling warmth pool in your belly at the exchange of kisses. You held his face in your hands and your bodies pressed against each other when he wrapped his arms around you. His voice dripped with yearning as he spoke:

“Let me show you how worthy you are…”

The words were a whisper in the wind, a secret kept by the rustling leaves, but they held a vow he intended to uphold.

_______________________________________

Getting away from your mother was surprisingly easy. She was wiped from cooking and everyone was shooing her home, telling her they would handle the clean up. The only real clean up was from the dishes they had dirtied as she had done most of the kitchen keep up as she cooked.

You should’ve been tired too but your mind still whirred from the excitement earlier. The promise of another rendezvous had you eager to volunteer in the clean up. Your mother looked at you again with pride when you told her to go on ahead and that you’d meet her home later after finishing here. If only she knew your true intentions.

Getting Father Miguel away from his parish was another story. You were washing your hands in the kitchen sink as the last of the trash was being taken out. Discretion was attempted as you stole glances at him helping others with their things and wishing them a blessed evening. At one point he catches your eye and his conviction nearly crumbles, but to you he maintains his composure. He gives you the aforementioned signal of a nod and shaky smile and you dry your hands before excusing yourself from one of the church members on your street. You make it seem as though you’re leaving for the night, but head towards the opposite end of the hall when the dining room door closes behind you.

You try to keep your nerves together as you enter the room on the far left end. You try not to think about Father Steen’s name on the door. You try not to hear the innocent farewells and blessings from the other side of the church. You try to look away from the surrounding symbols of sacrifice for sins you were actively committing. You try to calm yourself and your racing mind as you settle in the chair opposite to the one at the desk.

Curiosity temporarily overtakes your other worries when you crane your neck to see the pages that are open on the desk in front of you. It’s obvious what book it is but it’s hard to tell what chapter given it’s upside down, eleven size font, and single-spaced.

You don’t notice the noise completely dying down in the other room as you scan the office. You’ve never actually been in this office so you don’t know what belongs to Father Steen or the deacon. You do recognize the Catholic vestments that were worn by the elder but there was one you hadn’t seen that was separated from the others.

You could tell as you approached that it was much more fancy than the humble ones worn by either of the church heads. Its red satin underside was soft and silky against your inquisitive, yet careful, fingertips. The emerald green top portion was trimmed and detailed in intricate golden lacework. Embroidered red and white flowers weaved with golden stems and darker woven patterns accentuated the colors even further. It was sturdy and seemed handmade as you held the matching stole that hung from the hook beside it.

A knock on the door brought you back to reality and you murmured a ‘come in’. Funny how he was knocking to come into his own office.

He opened the door and walked through the threshold - the top of his head not even an inch away from the frame of the door. He saw you standing by the robes and smiled. He approached you and looked at the robe with you, feeling the fabric himself.

“This chasuble is a Spanish cut. It came from the priest that ran an orphanage in the city and it was a gift to me when he passed.” There’s reverence in his voice as he explains the importance of the robe, and the true weight of the words doesn’t go unnoticed to you. There’s still so much you didn’t know about him.

“Obviously it’s way too fancy for regular service but I always carry it with me. Bring it out for weddings and Easter. Best part? It’s got pockets.” You share a laugh as he wiggles his fingers in a hidden pouch along the inner lining on the front of the robe. He wiggles his eyebrows as well making you laugh more. The sound of it makes him beam at you and you can’t help but feel whiplash from the range of expression he’s given in such a short time.

From a near blubbering mess just from your lips, to this coy attitude now after congregating with his congregation. That tingle returns to your gut at his confident smile and you think of what was going through his mind when you left to come into the office. Did he watch you leave as he shook hands and embraced his newfound flock? Did he feel any impatience with the others who hung on his words? Did he have a change of heart and is attempting to let you down gently? You understood that this was a big No-No in his vocation… maybe post-kiss clarity and being surrounded by the ones trusting his judgment was making him have second thoughts.

Your doubts cause you to speak up, unfortunately spoiling the upbeat mode but you had to make your concerns known.

“I don’t want to make you do something you’ll regret.” His smile fades at the comment as you continue, “you could lose your job.”

He turns towards you from the garments you were admiring.

“Think of the consequences…” you stamper as listens to you, “you could lose the influence and respect you have amongst your fellow brothers in preisthood.” You brace yourself on the chair behind you as you slowly back up past it. He follows you closely.

“Breaking your vows would be a sacrilege.” Your back hits the desk but the deacon still approaches you. “You could be cast out.”

His hands are on your hips and face and your breathing quickens as he leans in, his voice a husky whisper, “For a nonbeliever, you’ve really done your research.”

You know his cocky demeanor is only temporary; when you start kissing again he’ll be back to incoherence. It doesn’t stop you from blushing up at his towering frame.

“Are you sure you want this? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable…” he says and starts to pull away as he had before, so careful not to overstep. Again you put your hands on his chest and it takes everything in you not to squeeze the muscular pecs stretching the front of his shirt.

“I want this. So badly. What I don’t want is you feeling guilty. I know what I want but I also know what is right. I don’t want to be the cause of any turmoil or strain in your spirituality. I’ve caused too much wrong to be the reason you break sacred vows important to you.” You both cling to each other against the desk.

“How could I regret this?” He asks so quietly it’s like he’s asking himself, or silently asking God. “Are matters of the heart to be ashamed of?” The storm in his eyes brewed at the idea of even having to explain himself and his feelings to someone above him in the church. For a man who has never been married, never seen God in the loving embrace of another, to try and tell him what love couldn’t be. How could he be expected to turn away from the act of God placed before him now? How do those in the church not see that to love Him, to truly flourish in His image, is to cherish and admire His other creatures? He scans your face and the hand there moves to gently hold your hands on his chest. How badly he wished to banish any doubt clouding your mind.

“I don’t know how else to explain it other than I have developed a deep connection and affection with you and I wish to learn more, so much more.” His breathing is slightly ragged and you feel the rise and fall under your hands. “Your confession, if you still feel the same, makes it nearly impossible for me to deny this anymore.”

“I cannot deny my feelings and continue to serve the church in a capacity that forbids me from you.” You’re speechless at the words and the abrupt honesty. “I’m making these decisions with my eyes wide open.”

“Deacon, I-“ you begin, but he cuts in to say,

“Please, call me Miguel. Not sure how much longer I’ll be a Deacon after this gets out…” He can’t hold back now that you’re alone so he kisses you because he can. Because there is nothing to hold him back from doing so, and your lips feel so good pressed to his. Hearing you say his name causes a low groan to come from his throat and he parts when you frantically protest against his lips.

“What do you mean? No, no one can know! Not yet… oh my god what would my mom think?! She’d believe I corrupted you, and I have, haven’t I?” Your nervousness and the fact that you were more afraid of the judgment from your mother than that of God Almighty made him chuckle again as he nuzzled into your neck and laid kisses up to your ear.

“Corruption and change are not the same. You have brought about a change in me. While I no longer feel I am the same man I once was before meeting you, I am happy for it.” He moves a hand slowly up your back to cradle your head and he feels like King Solomon taking his Queen to bed in Song of Songs as he kisses your neck.

Your neck is like the tower of David,

built with courses of stone;

on it hang a thousand shields,

all of them shields of warriors.

“Please,” He whispers into your ear and takes the lobe between his lips in a tease, “let me reveal my devotion to you.”

Your only response is your fingers entwining in his hair and a gasp, but it’s enough for him to capture your lips again. This time he wastes no time easing your mouth open with his tongue.

Your lips drop sweetness

as the honeycomb,

milk and honey are under your tongue.

He hasn’t had a woman in his arms like this is such a long time. Excitement overcomes him and his hands aren’t sure where to rest on your body. He wants to learn you only by touch. Allowing himself to be led blindly by faith in your embrace. He cups your breasts over your shirt and moans open mouthed into the kiss. You mewl at the abandonment of restraints you both had been holding yourselves back with. You’re not too lost to the feeling of his hands sliding back down and under your shirt. He traces your spine up and down and grabs at newfound flesh.

“You’re skin… tan suave.” He’s breathless again from the frenzy of kisses and touches he’s covering you in. He nearly loses it wondering how soft the rest of you was. The thought brings his fingers to your bra and he undoes the clasp there. He pulls away to see them fall slightly and his teeth dig into his bottom lip and he nearly growls before pulling your shirt up to reveal the loosened bra still veiling your breasts. His eyes are hungry, but he still asks, “May I?”

You’re frustrated at how long this is taking. Usually this sort of thing is a quick ordeal without all this checking in. You take a deep breath and remind yourself who you’re dealing with. You reassure him with a curt, “No more asking.”

Something snaps in his brain and he’s pulling your bra off and quickly replacing the cups with his own hands. He massages them both, lifting them lightly to feel their weight and admiring how your nipples react to the exposure to air and his fingers. The theories of intelligent, immaculate design are confirmed to him as he gazes at them and appreciates them.

At first, you’re on edge about the intensity in his eyes as he looks over you. Then you realize that you don’t know the last time he’s been with someone and that you just aren’t used to time being taken on you. You attempt to regulate your breathing and relax but when he gently tweaks the buds of your breasts between his large fingers your back arches.

He nearly drools at the sight of your body’s reaction and brings the hardened nipple into his mouth. He swirled his tongue around the tip and caught it in a suckle. You moan and the last thing he sees before your shirt drops over his head is you tossing your head back. He grins devilishly and grazes his teeth over the sensitive nub before moving to give the other some attention. He doesn’t leave it unattended for long when his fingers run his remaining spit over the delicate pucker.

You pull your shirt up and off, discard it somewhere in the room. You couldn’t go any longer without the enticing image of his face in your chest. His lips parted briefly from your right tit so he could mumble, “Dios, me encantan tus tetas…”

The praise and slightly blasphemy of the Lord’s name used in marvel of your body made your head spin. His free hand gripped your hip, then the flesh of your back, ghosting over your soft belly. His fingertips then slip into the hem of your pants and trail fire in their wake. You buck your hips involuntarily and ignore the dig of the desk in your back side.

He pulls away to see your face and the feedback your body gives him. He accepts it eagerly and continues to tease and pull at your pantyline while pinching and pulling at your nipples.

“Please, Miguel-,” The breathlessness in your voice and the flush of your face makes his already hard dick twitch in the restriction of his pants. His name in that sweet, needy tone made him moan out a ‘yeah?’

“I need you.” Your eyes are glazed from the pleasures he’s bestowing upon you. A sheen of sweat shines on your bare chest from the heat of the moment. Your body is on fire and this is only second base. The sensitivity levels of you both were turned up high, but maybe the taboo of it all was causing such an intense reaction. Or maybe you were feeling the same fervent connection he revealed to feel for you. The same string pulling you to one another.

Any resemblance of control fell away from him completely at your pleading pout. His lips crashed down onto yours again and an image of you he’d had in his mind many times flashed and he knew what you needed.

His hand swiftly unbuttons your jeans and the sound of the zipper is in slow motion as he inhales your breathy moans and pleas. His hands move to either side of you and he peels the denim off your burning skin.

He pulls away from you and looks in your eyes as he begins to lower himself. He kisses every inch of newly revealed skin. You’re suddenly feeling slightly self-conscious because you haven’t had a need to do any sort of landscaping for a while. This hadn’t exactly been planned. You look down at your nearly naked body and blush at how he is still completely clothed. You see the dance of his curls as he pulls the jeans off your feet. Then he’s on his knees.

This man of God, in his uniform of black with the white collar slightly askew, knelt before you as if you were an altar to pray to. His hands roamed from your ankles up to your thighs and then down your backside. He squeezes the flesh all over and they never truly settle in one place. He’s intent on learning each curve and dedicating every mole to memory. He catches your eyes and is emboldened by the lust in them so he leans up to press kisses along your abdomen. He murmurs against your tummy at how beautiful you are and how you can stop him at any time. Then, his fingers are hooked around the sides of your panties and he begins to slide them down.

He can’t help but take his time. There were a couple reasons. The first was this was simply too amazing to rush. He’d been in situations like this, and knowing what was coming next excited him. Pulling you out your jeans and spreading your legs brought wafts of your scent into his nose. The aroma was robust and earthy and it drew him in as your panties came down. It had been so long… the smell of your heat made him nearly light-headed but he inhaled deeply. He couldn’t get enough. He had to taste you.

Your panties were still around your knees when he buried his face into your pubic hair and took a deep breath in. You nearly buckled in embarrassment but his arms wrapped around your legs to bring you to his face even more so. He hugged your crotch for a moment and the smells went straight to his cock. It’d been so long since he’d been presented with such a pretty pussy and he had to appreciate the moment.

He pulls you out your panties the rest of the way and pushes you back against the desk. The back of his hand presses to your inner leg and you oblige him by spreading them both for him to get a better look. He sighs as he sits back on his heels and admires the image that has been in his mind for the last couple weeks. The offering of your own communion already glistening from the heavy petting and kissing is more captivating than his imagination could ever be. He paws at the hardness in his jeans and takes a mental image for later.

Motivated by the hunger in his eyes and the way his eyes move in the need to see it all, you start to lose the voice in your head that makes you worry about your body. You bring your hand down and spread your lips a little for him, a little moan escaping you. He nods as if being given instruction and wordlessly brings his mouth to you.

You cry out his name from the touch of his lips to your sensitive flesh. He’s simply kissing the parts you presented to him so graciously. You lean back and brace yourself more on the desk as his hands come up to massage your inner thighs. He moves lower and looks up at you before dragging his tongue slowly up from your seeping pussy to your clit. Your hips buck again and he grins deviously.

The grin and his lewd teasing showed a transformation in the man, as if this part of him laid dormant just beneath the surface of sacredness. His eyes seemed to shift to an alarming red in the lighting. His fingers dug into you like claws. His teeth seemed more pointed when he flashed those wicked grins up at you. He was the one on his knees, but he was the dominant force.

He brought his hands to his new heaven and spread the pearly gates with his thumbs. He blew gently on the exposed, heated skin and you whined from the lack of friction.

Blow on my garden,

that its fragrance may spread everywhere.

Let my beloved come into his garden

and taste its choice fruits.

The stretch of your legs and the wetness that shone between them looked so inviting. He massaged his thumbs up and down, rubbing your lips together and then apart again. His mouth watered at the sight and he licked his lips.

“You’re so wet for me…” he breathed the words before plunging into your waters. The tension, teasing, and time carefully taken on you had driven you crazy but the satisfaction of his tongue on your clit drove you mad. You arched your back and placed your hands on his broad shoulders, the pleasure bringing you to smile and moan in delirium. No longer were you worried about his job, the way you looked, or if he was interested in you as much as you were into him. He was definitely proving that now as he at you out like his last supper.

You surmised that he had to have had some kind of experience with this as you gawk at the expert movements of his tongue. At first, he prodded with the relaxed muscle to test the waters. Now, he was buried into you up to his nose. His tongue would flatten when he wanted a wider range of flavor and you’d feel the large pad lapping you up. Then he would tighten it and drag circles around your clit, sometimes licking into your tightness as if he were starved. He took note of how your body twitched when he pushed his tongue inside you to taste the velvety smoothness of your tight walls. He saw how you jerked with too much stimulation on your delicate bud. He groaned at the sight of your body moving above him, the way your hair hung in your face. The vibration of his convulsing tongue inside you as he groans makes you toss your head back and chant Miguel, Miguel,…

Fueled by the mantra of his name, Miguel goes back to swirling around your clit. He decided his tongue isn’t long enough to feel as deep inside you as he’d like and pushes his middle finger into you halfway. The promise of penetration causes you to grind on the finger and consequently onto his face as well.

He’s sometimes closing his eyes as if he’s in prayer while consuming communion. But the buck of your hips and your weight shifting down on him made his eyes snap open so he could watch your immodesty through lustful eyes. He pulled as you pushed, maintaining the single digit only halfway. He wanted to take his time feeling you and becoming acquainted with what you had so graciously offered to him. When he pulls away from you to speak, the sight of his puffy lips and chin shining with your wetness nearly makes you fall forward.

“Be patient, please,” his voice drips with desperation, “it’s been so long.”

You let out a low whimper but complain no further when he wraps his lips around your clit again and starts moving his finger inside you deeper, finally. You arch your back and your fingers entangle in his hair.

Your light pulling on his hair pulls another moan out of him and he can’t help but rub the underside of himself as he pleasures you. Your wet noises make him want to bathe in your scent and sleek walls. Your moans make his cock twitch in his tightening pants. He flattens his tongue on your swollen clit and languidly licks around and at it directly. He greedily adds another finger so he can gauge just how tight your opening is, but has to ease it in slowly as you cry out.

“Ooh, so tight.. so wet..” He murmurs against your slick as he wiggles the two fingers inside you. “Todo para mí?” This could easily be interpreted as coy, but the tone is earnest. He truly feels blessed with the gifts you’ve so graciously given. He flicks the tip of his cock over the pants as he sweeps his fingers to graze a particularly delicate spot inside you. As soon as his fingers touch that bumpy groove you see stars in your vision. The direct stimulation to your most sensitive space and this new sensation was nearly overwhelming.

“Miguel, ‘s too much.” You pant and attempt to push him off for some reprieve.

He lifts his head with worry in his eyes. His fingers straighten and pump inside you at a grudgingly slow pace. The slightly sweaty strands of hair stick to your thighs as he gently rests his head on it. Leaning on his devotion.

“I just want to make you feel good.” His eyes trail back to watch the way your pussy clings to his fingers when he pulls them out slowly. He seems entranced with the way you stick to his fingers even when they aren’t inside you. You look down to watch the lewd scene and see just how hard his cock is and how he’s got a grip on it through the clothes he’s still fucking wearing. “As good as you make me feel.”

You melt at the words and when his thumb comes up to press around your glistening pearl. He slid it across the top, just above the screaming bud, as if flipping through the thin pages of the Good Book. He ghosted over the area you found tried and true when you were doing this alone and your body, your voice let him know.

He slides his fingers back inside, unable to hold back any longer. His pace is shaky at first, but becomes stable again.

“Mmm, is that good for you?” He begins rubbing small circles in the spot you so beautifully inclined him towards. You nod and moan in response and then he asks you something that nearly knocks you off the table:

“Will you please cum for me?” He asks between heavy breaths that feel warm on your slit. He wondered how you looked, felt, smelled, sounded, and moved when you orgasmed. When he first placed that wafer in your mouth he wanted to be the reason that it happened. He wanted his name to be the one you called out. “Fuck, I need you to…” the curse and the words from the holy man made your insides twist and burn. The steady driving into your core and thumb on that sweet spot causes you to close your eyes and roll your hips with the rhythm.

He says your name and your eyes snap open again.

“Look at me.”

The way his large body slumps between your legs and the background of Catholicism surrounding the two of you hits a dirty switch in your brain and you’re nearing the edge. He can tell by the tightening of the muscles in your thighs and the way they nearly straighten out to give yourself more purchase.

“Just like that. You’re so close aren’t you, tell me.” You cry out a yes!! through your gaped mouth.

“Cum f’me, please. Cum for me just like this. Just for me.”

The words, the perfect pace of his fingers, the way he’s looking up at you… you reach your climax and fight to keep your eyes open as he asked.

Through your lashes you see that he’s grinning up at you. Your slick still on his mouth and stringing between his lips. The type of grin that shouldn’t be on a priest’s face. That’s two things that shouldn’t be on his face now as he licks around his pumping fingers to devour the flow of juices he’s poured out of you.

Your thighs clench around his head and your body spasms, he pulls his mouth away to look up at you between the trap of your thighs.

“Yesss, just like that you look so good. Such a good girl.” He mumbles with a mouth full of your slickness.

He moves his thumb off the hood of your pulsing nub to not overstimulate you, but his fingers remain inside you. The way you pulsed and squeezed around him mesmerized him. He matched the pulses to the grip on his length in a futile attempt to simulate the intoxicating spasms brought onto you by just his hands.

He tries to memorize the heartbeat of your warm burrow as it begins to ease on your come down. He’ll try to emulate the sensation later - on himself - but he knows and dreads the fact that it would not compare to the readied womanhood presented to him. He bites his bottom lip and groans.

You notice how he holds himself and you can’t pull your eyes away from the tent he’s holding back in his pants. Your arms, still a little shaky, move down and you grab his face. You pull a little and he obliges and stands again. He snakes his large arms around your naked body and doesn’t seem to care about any mess you might leave on him. You pull his face to yours and kiss him. His puffy lips are warm against yours and when your tongues touch you taste yourself and feel another coil form in your gut. You pull away and tell him, in a raspy voice,

“I need you. All of you. Please?” Encouraged by your orgasm, you reach your hand down to grab the erection that’s been begging for you.

He hissed your name through his teeth at the sensation and grabs your wrist. He was already embarrassingly close to his own orgasm after having watched you and toyed with himself. Your grip on him made his knees nearly buckle.

His protest made you worry and your arm seized in its place. You let go of him and stare up into his eyes to see where you went wrong with him.

“What’s wrong, Miguel?” The concern in your voice makes him bore his eyes into yours.

“Nothing, no, nothings wrong. You did nothing wrong. I do want this, oh God, you don’t know how badly…” It’s almost as if he’s gasping the words. Your touch, it set him on fire. But, he didn’t think he should, or could, have you the way he really wanted. Not now. Not here. “There’s something you should know. It’s not embarrassing for me, but it’s important you know.”

The seriousness in his tone has you scanning his face for any more information. He says your name and then reveals the truth and you’re left speechless. His tone is matter of fact, the words shocking.

**

**

**

“I’m a virgin.”

You are a garden locked up;

you are a spring enclosed,

a sealed fountain.

Taglist: IT WONT LET ME TAG MORE THAN 50 I’m crying I’m so sorry I’ll try commenting tagging the rest

@soniajustneedssimping @venusisajpeg @cassidysbbg @haveclayeveryday @fishtail111 @sirbird @thecrowstears @elizzybeth-2005 @tayleighuh @crispypugfs @trashcansally @cheezit-luv3rr @marsout @eliiilamar @hamuuko @jagawriterr @oharaswifexx @limenysnocket @xthejazzdalorianx @y0mill @livingmeat @stranded-dream @its-oevy @be-be-la-la @jxylxx @usagijoestar @queenofroses22 @zaunsin @ceoofmiguel @otomebois @fairycwhores @killakungfu-wolfbitch @buffalolover10177 @jaywalksalloverme @jalxnnie @deepinballs @vomitsama @aurora-burrow @wlalspj @tieonatrenchcoat @cicato @firstghostempathtaco @yallhearsm @mumbi-222 @carmenxhuuuu @dv-ocean-blog @multi-fandom-chick-blog1 @jellybeansupmyass @cheyjellyfish @elyissly @laikve @coffeejellypng @staycgoindown @variouslyalloya @redflame5975 @botchedlove @thatoneenchilada @buck-uwu @donnie-spectacular

Chapter 5? It might take some time tho…

[averagewriter-inthedark]

Time of Our Lives | Dancer!Jake Seresin x dancer!reader | Dirty Dancing AU

TGM masterlist

Characters & pairings: dancer!Jake Seresin x dancer!reader (romantic)

Content warnings: fluff, light profanity, pop culture references | Female!reader (she/her) | WC: 8.8k

Requested 📨 yes/no (for @eternalsams 🩶🥹)

Premise: what happens when two childhood best friends from well off families reunite at a country club leading into a summer that would impact their careers for eternity while dancing around a decades worth of brewing feelings and recreating an iconic dance for the country clubs annual showcase? Here’s a hit, it’s gonna be like that one song Baby and Johnny fell in love to.

Note: I am alive and just know I (quite literally) had the time of my life writing this piece. It brought me back to my 80s movies/dirty dancing hyperfixation 😭 @eternalsams thank you so much for your patience and requesting this gem. I hope I did you Justice and dancer Jake has my heart and soul. Thank you for trusting me with your vision 🩶

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“You could at least act like you’re having fun, Y/n,” came the scolding words of her mother when she noticed the unamused expression Y/n possessed.

A natural state she would describe since they arrived at the resort. And what Y/n could not depart from no matter how hard she tried.

Summertime. The best time of year for some folks who are eager to get away from the stress and drama of work and school to relax and have fun. Whether it be a week or two whole months. For high school dance teacher Y/n L/n, her ideal summer vacation would be in the comfort of her own home with a book or chilling at her favorite resultant sipping on Margaritas while enjoying live music. Going out with her small select group of friends to dance was also on her list of summer necessities…but her family had other plans.

To kick off her 2023 summer break—which is to last nearly three weeks if she manages to survive—Y/n and her family were at an upscale Catskills resort located in the Appalachian Mountains not too far from New York, the place she currently called home. A snazzy estate one may add, for it was filled with alumni from the top Ivy League schools in the country.

And Y/n’s personal hell.

Of course she loved spending time with her parents and siblings….to an extent. But, when they’re constantly berating her life choices by becoming a dance instructor—on top of displeased opinions of her love life—-Y/n felt suffocated by them.

It was like she could never live up to the expectation they had of her no matter how much she proved herself and her talent. Not only were her parents highly respected doctors in their community, but her sister graduated Summa Cum Laude at Yale Law School, marrying her college sweetheart before taking a job at one of the city’s top firms. Then there was her brother. He went on to become a naval fighter pilot, distinguished and respected with his place at number one in his class during his year at Top Gun. His wife was a trauma nurse who worked at the same hospital as her parents.

Yet here she was—mind you, a former member of the New York City Ballet Company, Juilliard Alumni, performed at the Super Bowl, toured with Rihanna in the mid early 2010s, appeared in several music videos, and teaches at the Frank Sinatra School of the Arts—unable to adhere to their standards.

Parents…they want what’s best for their children. Right?

Yeah she found that hard to believe.

If only they saw her in the Ballroom. And no, not talking about the kind you see on Dancing With The Stars. She’s talking about the Ballroom that calls New York its home.

But also ballroom dancing. Her sister would have a heart attack if she discovered Y/n danced Bachata with Prince Royce at a New York latin club.

“Fun?” Y/n scoffed, sipping at her glass of champagne resulting in a light cringe at the taste. For rich people one would think they’d have the best there was. What just hit her tastebuds was something out of a box container imposing as fancy liquor. “I don’t see how anyone could find this type of rendezvous fun, mother.” She received a scolding glare.

“Keep your voice down,” the older woman kept looking around to see if anyone heard, “these are our friends.”

“Your friends,” Y/n corrected. There was no way in hell she’d consider any of the fake people in front of her friends. No matter how long their families have been acquainted. None of them liked each other, and were always trying to one up whenever someone voiced an accomplishment.

Instead of answering, Y/n’s mother simply walked away with an annoyed huff. No longer in the mood to argue. Rolling her eyes, Y/n downed the last of her champagne before making way out the french doors of the lounge and into one of the many patios. The sunshine greeted her with its vibrant and warm rays. Chatter from the guests sitting under umbrellas and beside the pool filled her ears. Y/n placed her sunglasses and booked it across until she was on the pathway leading to the guesthouse she and her family were staying.

“Y/n!” Had it been anyone else the woman would’ve mentally signed, but the voice behind the greeting was none other than her childhood best friend growing up, Natasha. A genuine smile appeared on her face as she turned around.

“Hey, Nat!” the two embraced in a hug, “Been a while, huh?” In truth the two hadn’t seen each other face to face since 2019 when Natasha moved to California to base her talent agency. Despite this, Natasha still traveled every year to Caskilles around this time to see her family, whereas Y/n remained in New York due to shows and gigs.

“More like four years,” a playful nudge was sent her way, “girl you left me here to fend for myself. I should feel betrayed,” Nat smirked, “but I can’t blame you. The only reason I keep coming to this place is to please my mom. It’s the only time all of us siblings are under the same roof.”

Natasha was the oldest of four and the only daughter to three sons. Her father had been the Mayor of New York City while her mother was the former District Attorney. All of her brothers had achieved prospective careers. Antonio, the second oldest, had been drafted by the MLB and currently played for the Washington Nationals. Dominic, the middle brother, was a nuclear engineer who rarely ever got time off but always managed to get a week in the summer. Lastly the youngest of the bunch, Victor, was a professional photographer who went on tour with artists like Journey, Lionel Richie, Daddy Yankee, and Stevie Nicks.

For Natasha, she had fallen in love with the fashion industry at a young age. After graduating from the Fashion Institute of Technology Natasha received an intern position at Vogue Magazine before becoming a product and brand marketing manager at Louis Vuitton, for which she got the opportunity to live in Paris, France for four years. There she got to work closely with Virgil Abloh, who unfortunately passed away in 2021, and Nicolas Ghesquiere.

As of 2022 Nat relocated to San Francisco and developed her own talent agency for aspiring models and fashion photographers who come from low-income backgrounds, LGBTQIA+, people of color and disabilities. With its success Nat’s had several clients on the face of Vogue and walking runways at every fashion week.

“I’m sorry,” Y/n said, the two beginning to walk down the path together, “Life’s been hectic. During the pandemic there were little to no gigs so I had no idea what to do.” Unfortunately being in the dance industry meant competitive opportunities with a maybe 10% success rate if lucky. Y/n’s last big break was dancing with Lady Gaga and Ariana Grande in their ‘Rain on Me’ music video. Y/n occasionally attended the Balls in New York, but hadn’t walked a category in ages.

She did have a following on social media, which bought in a reasonable amount of income. Over 100k on YoutTube and roughly 2 half a million on TikTok. Instagram had close to 3 million since it had been the primary platform in the 2010s and several of her dance videos went viral.

“I understand,” Nat nodded solemnly, “It was like that for me too. It’s nice the world is slowly going back to normal. Although,” she paused to chuckle, “the amount of damage control getting bookings back to their normal pace was probably the most stressful point in my career.”

“Has it been easier now?” They stopped at a little bench overlooking the lake, “I saw you were at fashion week.”

Nat instantly brightened. “Much better than before I will say. We’ve got a great wave of new clientele—I just landed this fella a cover with GQ so I’m pleased with that.” Y/n congratulated her before the agent changed the subject, “But enough about me, what about you?”

The woman scoffed, “Well my last big thing was the Lady Gaga music video—and that was going on three years now,” the thought made her frown. It wasn’t like her to go so long without a gig. “I auditioned for a spot on Beyoncé’s tour.”

“The Renaissance tour,” Nat nearly gagged. It was all anyone could talk about since tickets went on sale earlier that year. Nat managed to snag two for her and her boyfriend for the Los Angeles show. “And?”

“I’ll know in about a month or so if I book it.”

“You so got it,” Nat assured with a tap on her shoulder, “You’re one of the best dancers in the world. You danced with Madonna at the Super Bowl,” her gaze became pointed, “and toured with Rihanna. You have nothing to worry about.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Nat,” Y/n laughed, though deep down she felt the hope in her rise.

Rolling her eyes, Natasha leaned back against the bench and was about to comment when someone in the distance caught her eye. “Is that who I think it is?”

Peeking over her shoulder, Y/n suddenly straightened her posture upon seeing the blonde man grinning from ear to ear as they made eye contact. Jake Seresin certainly landed on the right side of the puberty coin. With his tan, muscular frame, gorgeous green eyes, blonde hair and smile that belonged on the cover of a magazine, he was a sight for sore eyes.

“Ladies, fancy seeing you two here on this beautiful afternoon.”

A wave of butterflies simmered in Y/n’s tummy, a shy smile forming as he approached the bench. It’d been several years since the two saw each other despite being friends since childhood. “Jake,” she greeted, moving to accept his hug when he opened his arms. Natasha followed before the two sat back down, “It’s good to see you. Is your mom with you?”

Like Natasha and her family, Jake’s were part of the same circuit in terms of highly respected, sometimes influential people. His mother, a doctor, was a colleague of Y/n’s parents, and his late father was one of Texas’ Congressmen during the 2000-2010s. Jake’s only sibling, his sister Krista, was a young adult novelist with over ten publications.

Jake on the other hand was like Y/n: a professional dancer and known in the industry as a real life Ken Doll. He had a massive following online, choreographed music videos and tours—even went on tour with Bruno Mars, Justin Bieber, & Ariana Grande—and was a guest judge on ‘So You Think You Can Dance,”. During the pandemic a lot of his dance sequences went viral and became trends, Y/n even posted on to which he reposted with the caption, “you know I had to shine the spotlight on my favorite dance partner. Miss you Y/n/n.”

You can bet Y/n experienced internal fireworks.

There was no denying she had a crush on Jake growing up. The two were inseparable whenever their families stayed at the resort. They’d even make trips out to each other during winter break, eventually attended Juilliard at the same time, and collaborated early in their careers. Jake and Y/n used to sneak out of the country club when they were younger to dance on the dock while blasting music from the boom box they’d stolen from the lounge. They learned ballroom together, competing in competition without Y/n’s family having knowledge of it.

Unlike Y/n’s parents, Jake’s mom and dad approved of his career choice. Though skeptical in the beginning, they grew to be very supportive and attended his showcases at school, the concert he was performing in and kept up with what he was doing.

Because of their disapproval of her pursuing dance, Y/n believes their learning of Jake’s endeavors resulted in them no longer coming to the country club if he and his family were there. They also never asked about him or worked with his mother despite being in the same field. It’s like they blamed Jake for Y/n not becoming what they wanted her to be: a doctor or a lawyer.

“She and my sis are settling in,” he gestured down the path he came, where several cabins were located. “We just got in about an hour ago.”

“How long are you guys here for?” The question came from Nat, who threw a look at Y/n.

Jake didn’t notice, “a couple weeks. Needed a break from the world—and Mr. Collins asked me to help him with this showcase he’s putting together.” Y/n raised her brow.

“Showcase?”

“It’s more for the youngins,” Jake explained. “He asked if I could help teach some dance lessons for those interested.” Though it physically hurt not to react, Y/n somehow managed to remain neutral. Even putting a semi-fake smile.

How come Mr. Collins didn’t ask her?

“Stop it,” the voice in her head said, “it’s not a competition and you know Jake would never be upset if the roles were reversed.”

“Wow, Jake, that's great!” She was happy for him. And scolded herself mentally for the childish thought she had. Jake was an exceptional dancer and a great teacher. Y/n had watched some of his YouTube videos in passing and had no doubt he could get the job done.

“Say if you have the time I’d be happy to have you join in,” he flashes a smile that would have any girl weak in the knees. “I’d say you’re more of an expert in certain areas that I’m not really well acquainted with.” Warmth fills her chest.

“I’d love to. Thank you, Jake.”

The second he departed Natasha was on Y/n. “Girl, if you do not hop on that—.”

“Natasha!”

“What?” She whispers shouts after being hushed, “you’re into him, he’s so into you,” Y/n’s expression is that of, ‘You’re delusional’. “Skip the previews and start the movie.” Now that was a metaphor Y/n had not heard before, but clever nonetheless.

“Jake and I have been friends for years,” Y/n brushed her off. “I am not going to risk ruining what we have because of some middle school crush.” The brunette rolls her eyes.

“But it’s not, ‘some middle school crush.’ You’ve had feelings for him for over decades now—which is a conversation for another day,” Y/n makes a sound of offense, but does not deny the woman. “It’s time to put on your big girl panties and get your man.”

She’s quiet for a moment, glancing to her feet, “What if it’s not meant to be. My family would never approve—.”

“Like you’ve let them dictate what you do in life.”

“My point is—,” Y/n cuts back, “I’ve already disappointed them with my career path. Call me naive or delusional, but I don’t want to have to deal with constantly being berated for my choice of partner. Jake is wonderful in every aspect, but what he does will just set my parents off again for another twenty years if by some miracle we start something up.”

Natasha sighs, placing a comforting hand on her friend’s shoulder, “Sometimes you have to accept that parents are always going to have their opinions that are unchangeable. And you have to let go of the hope they’ll come around. Y/n, you’ve dealt with this since you were seventeen, maybe it’s time to distance yourself from it.”

“And if it all backfires and I end up alone?”

“You’ll never be alone,” she nudges her, “I’m here. And even if it all blows to hell, then at least you can say you tried.”

The next day Y/n found Jake at the little studio room the club used to teach waltz lessons. She was met with his gorgeous smile and an army of preteens in the middle of showing off who could do the best tik tok dance. “I see I’ve interrupted a very important matter.”

“None wanted to do the one I created,” he dramatically pouts, “saying it was too complicated.”

She laughed, “Well they’re not wrong.”

“Hey!”

For the next week, Y/n and Jake spent four hours a day--two in the morning and two in the afternoon--with the kids teaching them different styles of dance. Of course the crowd favored breakdancing, hip hop, modern, and vogue, but would request to watch Jake and Y/n perform routines they used to do back in the day. Swing was a popular one, as was quickstep and jive because of its upbeat and face paced. One day Jake busted out his tap dancing skills while Y/n displayed some ballet.

“How can a person do that?” a kid commented as she stood on revelé. Jake leaned down, whispering, “she’s secretly an alien from another planet.”

“C’mon I wanna show you something,” Jake grabs her hand one night after dinner. He leads her to a cabin not too far from the main resort where members of the staff have started a party. On the speakers were some 2000s hits that summed up the millennial crowd. Jake waved to some of the guys who ran group activities in the corner, Y/n spotted the culinary department at the food table. And if she were to glance at the door on the opposite end of the cabin, she’d see the housekeeping passing around an object containing a certain plant.

“What’s this?”

“The only place where the workers get to catch a break after spending all day with those uptight rich folks. They call it ‘Dirty Dancing’,” Y/n’s expression becomes amused, letting out a soft laugh.

“Like the 80s movie with Patrick Swayze?” Jake beams.

“The one and only,” taking her hand once more, he leads her to the makeshift dance floor. “Let’s show them how it’s done.”

To say the two became the life of the party was an understatement. Jake spun Y/n to the sound of her laughter and Elvis ‘Jailhouse Rock’. Jumping up and down with a crowd around them to Pitbull’s “Give Me Everything.”

“Tonight, I want all of you tonight,” They pointed to each other, “Give me everything tonight.” Y/n pointed to the girl beside her, “For all we know we might not get tomorrow. Let’s do it tonight.” Jake fist pumped with some guys around him, “Don’t care what they say, or what games they play. Nothing is enough, ‘til they handle love.” people in the back shouted “let’s do it tonight.”

“I want you tonight, I want you to stay,” Jake gave Y/n a look, “I want you tonight,” she squealed upon him pulling her toward him, “Grab somebody sexy tell ‘em hey.” the entire house exploded into the chorus. Everyone having the time of their lives, it felt like a scene from a movie.

Y/n pulled girls into the middle during Beyonce’s ‘Single Ladies.’ Then they carried the party when ‘Year 3000’ by the Jonas Brothers came on. “He said, ‘I've been to the year 3000. Not much has changed, but they lived underwater. And your great-great-great-granddaughter is doing fine!”

Some staff who happened to be part of the New York Ballscene recognized Y/n, leading to a vogue battle to commence. “This is what I wanna see!”

Let’s just say….that was the moment Jake knew he was in love.

“‘Cause we are living in a material world. And I am a material girl,” The next morning Y/n was rudely awoken by her ringtone. “Hello,” her groggy voice answered, hearing Jake on the opposite end sounding equally as tired.

“Are you busy this afternoon in between lessons?”

“Not that I know of. What’s up?”

“I just got off the phone with Collin,” his tone shifted to one she couldn’t decipher, “He’s asking if you and I would be interested in performing at the showcase.” Jolting from the bed, Y/n was fully awake.

“Come again.”

“You and me. Me and you,” Jake repeated, “we put on a little number for the finale.”

Fiddling with her pajama top, Y/n suddenly became nervous. The night before she was on Cloud 9 with the way Jake was looking at her. They danced the night away and those feelings she desperately tried to hide were slowly becoming difficult to keep down. “What did you have in mind?”

“Time of My Life, really?” The two were at the studio dressed in comfy attire they usually danced in. “Don’t you think that’s a little cliche.”

“I thought it was fitting,” the blonde rebutted. Jake suggested the two perform the iconic dance sequence at the end of the 80s classic. “What, you got something against it?”

She rolled her eyes, “Only that my parents blame my childhood obsession with it as the reason I didn’t follow their dreams for me.” Jake made a face.

“They’re still not over that?”

“Nope,” She popped the ‘p’. “In fact they still remind me every chance they get about it.”

Jake finished setting up the song loop, standing from his crouching position, “Well, let’s prove just how wrong they were when you blow their mind with your talent at the showcase.”

Between the giggles and constantly finding any moment to procrastinate, it was a miracle the two managed to choreograph a routine. It wasn’t an exact copy of the iconic dance Baby and Johnny performed, but they kept some elements in.

Including the lift.

“Jake, I don’t know about this,” Y/n shivered when her body hit the cold water, following him until their waists were submerged. The whole idea made her nervous. It was an intimidating maneuver.

Jake, however, did not show any sign of hesitation. “Worried I’d drop you?” he teased, “I thought you trusted me? We used to do this all the time as kids.”

“Exactly. I do trust you, but we’re not fifteen anymore. I’m not--,” he cut her off gently.

“Don’t say what I think you’re about to say,” his look was soft but serious at the same time. “You have nothing to worry about. And besides, we’re out here taking precautions instead of being in the studio where if something did go wrong, we’re not as likely to end up in the ER.”

Sighing, Y/n rubbed her eyes. “Fine, let’s just get this over with, before I drown in embarrassment..”

About two and half hours of non-stop repetition of Jake lifting Y/n in the air passed. Sometimes he purposely lost footing so they both planted into the freezing lake water and other times he genuinely faltered. “Jake!”

“I’m sorry!” Thankfully at least one out of every ten attempts were a success. By that we’re talking they were able to hold the position for more than four seconds. “Okay, we’re done for the day.”

As the sun started to set, Jake climbed onto the dock before pulling Y/n up. “Thanks,” she took the towel he handed her, immediately squeezing the excess water from her hair. “Well that was fun.”

“Yeah,” he chuckled, grabbing his towel. “I think we made some great progress. We’ll go through the whole routine tomorrow and see what needs adjustments.” The showcase was in just over a week, meaning they were crunching down on time.

“Sounds like a plan.” Stars painted the sky, the two eventually sitting on the dock with their towels wrapped around them. Soft music played from Jake’s speaker.

“How’s it been for you?” Jake was the one to break the silence, “thinking about it, we haven’t really got the chance to catch up. New York still treating you well?”

“Oh uh,” Y/n swallowed, unsure of how to answer without sounding too pessimistic. “It’s been alright. I’ve been teaching for the last two years.”

“A teacher you say? Where at?”

“Frank Sinatra School of Arts.” Jake’s smile grew.

“That’s amazing!” Butterflies erupted at his praise. “I’m happy for you, Y/n, really. You’re inspiring the next generation.”

“Thanks,” she looked away, unable to keep eye contact when her heart was beating so fast. ‘Geez, why am I like this? He’s making me feel like I’m fourteen again.’ “I’ve enjoyed it. My students were amazing.” Jake raised a curious brow.

“Are you not teaching anymore?”

Y/n bit her lip, “well, I haven’t renewed my contract for the upcoming school year yet,” she paused before adding, “I’m waiting to find out if I got a spot on this tour I auditioned for.” Now Jake was super curious. Lots of artists were touring that summer. The Jonas Brothers, Big Time Rush, Kesha, SZA, and of course the much anticipated Era’s and Renaissance tours of Taylor Swift and Beyonce.

And Jake was going to be involved in one.

“Is it okay if I ask which one?” his tone had an underlying hint of excitement at the thought the two might work together. Traveling across the country in what would be one of the best experiences in their lives.

Her eyes narrowed with suspicion, “something tells me you have a secret, Jake Seresin. Would you like to share with the class what’s on your mind?”

Scratching his head, Jake answered, “I’m not really supposed to say…..but,” she held her breath, releasing with a low gasp, “I’ll be touring with Taylor Swift.”

“Wow,” the woman was speechless, breaking into a massive grin. “I-uh, wow, Jake that’s incredible! Congratulations!”

“Thank you,” he accepted her hug, not caring that their clothes were still damp. “I honestly didn’t believe I’d get it.” a playful slap landed on his arm.

“Please,” came her scoff, “You really thought Miss Americana herself would not see the talent in front of her?” Y/n mentally cheered in victory at the sight of his blush. “She’d be foolish to not have you as part of her time.”

“Okay okay,” he swatted her hands away with a chuckle. “Now answer my question.”

Once revealing who’s tour Y/n auditioned for, the two embarked on an hour long conversation about their careers and life. Jake mentioned how he had been in a relationship but it didn’t work out. Y/n vented on the ongoing emotional feud with her family--to which Jake told her, “It’s their loss for not seeing you the way the rest of the world does.”

Yeah, that made her melt.

By the end of the night there was a shift in the atmosphere. Both felt it, glancing away when they held eye contact longer than usually without a word passing by. They had suddenly become quiet, only the crickets singing through the trees.

“It’s getting late,” Y/n rushed out, moving to stand. “Same time tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” Jake mirrored her movements. “Same time.” Heading back to the cabins their families were staying at, they arrived at Y/n’s first.

Opening her mouth to say goodnight and avoid an awkward moment, Y/n’s words paused upon seeing Jake’s expression, “You look troubled.”

“I--,” he began before stopping, causing Y/n’s nerves to rise. “It’s nothing.”

The dancer wasn’t having it, “No, no no,” she playfully raised a hand, “you can’t leave me hanging like that, Jake. I thought we were friends.” Suddenly it became quiet again. Next thing Y/n knew was Jake softly grabbing her hand.

“You know I adore you right?”

Her heart skipped, “Not really, but I do now,” the light chuckle was obviously embedded with nerves. “I adore you too.”

“And we’ve been….rather close for a long time.”

“Yes,” the word trailed off her tongue, somehow managing to hold the eye contact Jake was giving her. She was practically pinned where she stood.

“I realize this isn’t the best time or way to say this,” his cheeks become rosy, “but I’ve really enjoyed these past couple weeks catching up and being able to dance again like we used to. And I’d be lying if I said it didn’t bring back some feelings I tried to ignore for fear it would ruin what we have.”

Y/n couldn’t believe what was happening, “Bring back?” Did the man she secretly longed for since they were teenagers want her too? After all this time? She nearly pinched herself.

Jake looked away, bringing his other hand to scratch his neck. “Yeah. Look, I understand if you don’t feel the same and I’m sorry for dropping this on you but after the party I felt like my world was finally on its axis. You…” he struggles finding the right words, “I can’t stop thinking about you and what we could be. You’re my best friend, Y/n. And I view you as someone I wanna dance with till we’re old and gray.”

“Jake,” his name was the softest it had ever been coming out of her mouth. Here was the moment she had been dreaming about. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear you say that.”

His reaction was immediate, “You--you feel the same?” The tone was that of disbelief and hope. Heart pounding beneath his skin.

Y/n cupped his face in her hands, grinning ear to ear, “There is no one else in this world I’d rather dance with than you, Jake. I’ve felt this way about you for as long as I can remember.”

Not wasting a second longer, Jake leaned down and captured her lips in a sweet kiss. Fireworks exploded between the two, the butterflies escaping their stomachs to swarm around them. Jake's lips were soft against hers, moving slowly as though to commit them to memory. When they pulled away, he kept his forehead against hers, “wow.”

She giggled, repeating, “wow.”

“Is this what Could 9 is supposed to feel like? Because I’m getting those vibes.”

Y/n threw her head back, laughing before covering her mouth when she remembered her family was asleep on the other side of the door, “You’re not the only one, hot shot. If this is what cloud 9 feels like then I never want to lose it.”

In the days following that magical night, the two continued their practice session. Perfecting the dance to where they didn’t even hear the music to be able to hit the steps right. When it came to the lift, however, Y/n was still worried of a disaster. Thankfully after several successful attempts at the studio she was able to let go of her doubt.

Plus she was tired of hearing Jake’s teasing.

Each night after parting ways that afternoon the two would meet up at the docks. Spending hours laying on the wood to watch the stars twinkle and talk about life. Then Jake would walk her back to the cabin, saying goodbye with a sweet kiss. With every minute they spent together, every dance, every kiss, both Jake and Y/n were falling more and more for each other.

One could go as far as to say it was love.

One could say they were having the time of their lives.

But of course what is life without a little drama? Y/n silently prayed drama would be avoided. Once in her life could things just be great? Without the everlying feeling of something going wrong?

Yeah, it was too good to be true.

“Jake!” a voice interrupted the peaceful morning, ripping the two apart from their kiss. They had gone for a jog together that morning around the lake, stopping at their usual spot of the docks before heading to the studio to practice for the night's event. Turning to the direction of the voice, Y/n’s eyes landed on a fiery redhead storming up the path. Her attention was on the man beside her, not hiding the obvious fact she was furious. “Who the hell is that?”

“Tatiana?” Jake’s tone was of shock and confusion. He let go of Y/n’s face he had been cradling, but kept a firm touch on her arm. “W-what are you--.”

“Is it so much to ask for you to answer your phone?” stopping in front of the two, her blazing hazel eyes locked on Y/n. “Who are you? And why the fuck were you making out with my boyfriend.”

“Excuse me?” she stammered, glacing at Jake who now looked pissed off. ‘He’s had a girlfriend this whole time?”

“I haven’t been your boyfriend since December, Tatiana,” he raised a pointed finger, casting a look to Y/n with pleading eyes that he was telling the truth. “We’ve been broken up for a while now.” he turned back to his ex, “You made that clear to me when you had me choose between the career I’ve spent decades building and you.”

There was anger in his tone, not pleased with her claims. Y/n didn’t know what to believe, all she could feel was a weight clamping down on her shoulder.

“Oh really,” removing her phone from her back pocket, Tatiana tapped the screen a few times before pushing it in Y/n’s face, “Does that seem like it to you.” Leaning forward, Y/n gulped at the sight of text messages indicating Jake and Tatianna had been in contact a few months prior. From the looks of it, Tatiana was hoping the two could pick up where they left off and Jake replying, ‘I’ll think about it,’ then it was silent until this past week where Tatiana sent texts asking when they could meet up. Jake, however, responded it wasn’t a good time and believed the two should stay friends.

“Y/n,” Jake started, glancing back between her and Tatiana, which only made her more perplexed. Unable to decipher what he was thinking. “Just please, wait right here.” He gently squeezed her arm, brushing their fingers together as he let go. Then before she could say anything, Y/n watched Jake gently escort Tatiana away from the docks. They went a good distance away to where Y/n was unable to hear the two. With Jake’s back to her, Y/n’s view was of the red head’s angry expression as she pushed her finger into Jake’s chest.

She saw him gently raise his hands, stepping away to escalate the situation. Y/n’s head spun, feeling a wave of nausea and the woman grabbed her water bottle from the ground. In a fast pace, Y/n stepped off the dock and onto the path leading back to the clubhouse. Once a distance away she broke out into a run, unaware if Jake saw her leave considering his back was to her. This was confirmed when she didn’t hear him call out for her.

Sprinting past the clubhouse, Y/n made a beeline for her cabin. Throwing the door open she moved past the living room not caring if anyone was there and straight to her bedroom where she locked the door behind her, pressing her back against it and sliding down to the floor to finally catch her breath.

Her water bottle had been drained, sweat coating her forehead and tears threatening to spill. Covering her mouth, Y/n refused to let the sob forming in her throat to release. There was no time to let her heartbreak. Not when the showcase was fast approaching.

The showcase.

“Fuck,” she sniffed, kicking off her shoes in the process. Of course it had to be that day all blows to hell. The perfect world she thought she finally obtained crashing down.

Of course she was being dramatic. Her life was shy from perfect, and this was another dent in the walls she tried to build.

She kept thinking of Jake. Willing herself to not jump to conclusions. He was clearly taken aback by Tatiana’s appearance. Even more when she called herself his girlfriend. Jake appeared rather offended by the accusation they were still together. Bottom line of the story: there was tension--especially animosity--between them, unfinished business if Y/n had to guess.

Whatever it was, she couldn’t bear to witness it. Right now she needs to think with a blank mind. And with Jake already spamming her phone, the solution for peace and quiet was to turn off her phone. Going as far as to power off her apple watch and not have music play while she showered.

The tears slowly cascaded while Y/n stood beneath the water. It was eerie with the silence, but it assisted with the clearing of her thoughts. Once clean Y/n dressed in comfy clothes and decided to nap for the remainder of the day. The morning had drained her, and until it came time to get ready for her dance with Jake--which she already dreaded--Y/n willed herself to sleep imagining what the day had been if his ex had never stepped foot on the docks.

“Need some help?” Y/n jumped, the hair clip falling from her hand. In the mirror she found Nat staring back at her with a sympathetic smile. “You look like you could use a hand.”

“Thanks,” she picked up the clip, holding up for Nat, who took it in her hand and stood behind Y/n. Gathering her hair up, Nat styled it in a messy but pretty updo.

“You seem tense for someone so used to the spotlight by now.”

A frown appeared, “It’s always nerve racking going on stage in front of people no matter how long you’ve done it.” Nat wasn’t buying it.

“Wanna talk about it? I know it’s more than a few nerves rustling your feathers, Y/n.”

Biting her lip, the dancer shrugged. “It wasn’t meant to be, Nat. Simple as that.” Sadness washed over her for the millionth time since that morning. She hasn’t seen Jake since, only replying to his several texts after a dozen unanswered calls to confirm she would still do the showcase.

Although part of her thought about backing out.

“What exactly happened?” Nat softly asked, moving to now help Y/n on her makeup. She was going for a simple look so she lightly concealed, blushed, highlighted and added some minimal eye makeup.

“Everything felt so amazing” she started, looking up as Nat dabbed the beauty blender under her eyes. “After we did the lift at the lake, we talked for hours on the dock and when he walked me back to the cabin….he told me how he felt about me,” Y/n could still feel the tingles on her lips, “and we kissed.”

Nat withheld squealing, knowing it was a bad moment considering it didn’t end the way she hoped for her best friend. Now she was conspiring on how to get payback on Jake. Filled with sudden disdain.

“The next few days went by--like I was walking on cloud 9. The way he looked at me, Nat,” Y/n connected their eyes, “It was magical.” Nat brushed powder onto her cheeks, followed by light blush and highlighter.

“And then what happened.”

Y/n’s shoulders dropped, making her slouch, “Jake’s ex showed up this morning.” Nat’s hand froze, a second passing before continuing its movement. “They broke up last year, but I guess they were in the works of getting back together. Because she was very vocal about it--not shy of asking who the fuck I was and why was I with her boyfriend.”

“And what was Jake’s reaction?”

Y/n waited until after Nat finished sweeping a thin coat of eyeliner to answer, “He denied it--was very shocked when she showed up out of the blue. Said that she ended things because he refused to choose her over his career. Then she went on about how they were talking things out--that a few months ago he said he’d think about it.” Y/n thought back to the texts, “She showed me the messages from this week. He rejected her invite to meet up and said that they should remain friends. Then he pulled her aside to talk where I couldn’t hear. I sorta left after that.”

Nat grabbed the mascara, “You didn’t wait for him to explain?”

“Could you blame me?” Y/n rebutted, a little on the defense but not saying it in a mean tone. “I was dealing with a hundred emotions. Confusion, embarrassment, shame, sadness, anger. I wanted to cry, I wanted to yell. But the only thing I could do was shut down and walk away.”

Nat said nothing, spraying Y/n’s face with a setting mist before handing her the tube of her favorite lipstick.

“I know,” Y/n groans, “I should’ve stayed--to at least hear him out. But I didn’t want to face the humiliation if it were true.”

“And if it’s not true?” Nat suggested, “What if he was genuine and they really are done? Where does that leave you two?”

Blotting the color onto her lips, Y/n capped the tube and threw it into her makeup bag with a shug, “I don’t know, Nat. We’ll find out tonight I guess.” Taking one last glance in the mirror, she added, “That’s if he shows up--which I doubt he won’t. He wouldn’t want to let Collins down.” leaning back in the char, Y/n turns to her friend. “Thanks for the hair and makeup.”

Nat patted her shoulder, “anytime. You look beautiful. That dress was made for you.” Y/n bore a light pink dress with a flowy skirt and corset styled top. It was similar to the one Baby wore in Dirty Dancing, ironically enough, but unique in its own way. She paired it with simple dance shoes.

“Thank you, Nat.”

A thought suddenly came to the brunette, “Hey, did you ever hear back from that audition?”

There was no hiding her grin, Y/n looked like a child having just received a gift from Santa, “I got a call back. They’re having me fly to L.A. next week to dance for them again.” Nat jumped from her seat, squealing and pulling the woman into a hug.

“Ah that’s amazing! Congratulations--I’m so so happy for you!!”

“Thank you,” Nat��s happiness was contagious, making Y/n giggle as they swayed side to side. “I can’t believe I’m so close.”

“I knew you’d get it,” Nat maveled, playfully pinching Y/n’s side making her swat at her hand.

The happy moment was interrupted right on cue as Mr. Collins rushed in. “There you are!” He was frantic, clipboard in hand. “I’ve been looking all over for you. Have you seen Mr. Seresin?” Y/n’s heart dropped.

“No,” was her response, heat coating her skin. “I thought he was here already.” Collins took a peek at his watch, groaning in annoyance.

“You guys are the last ones so that gives me hope he’s just running late,” Motioning for Y/n to follow him, the man leads the two out of the makeshift dressing room. “You’ll wait by the end of the side stage while the other performers have their turn. Then I’ll announce--hopefully both of you--and we’ll call this showcase a success. Which by the way,” he spins around, stopping Y/n in her tracks, “Do you happen to have a backup plan by any chance if our friend decides to be a no-show?”

Y/n stuttered lightly, hands up in a ‘Not really?’ She goes, “I mean I can whip something up--Not to toot my own horn but I’m pretty good at what I do and will dance to any music you give me.”

“Fantastic,” Collins snaps his finger, “We’ll work with that.” Spinning back again, Collins high tails it to the stage, Y/n taking claim to a chair a few paces from the steps. She spotted Nat seated with her family, Y/n’s own folks at a table in the far back. Almost like they were hiding from the rest of the guests, causing her heart to sink further.

Collins opened the showcase with an animated greeting to the audience. After some announcements and thanks to staff and sponsors who helped put the showcase together, he introduced the first of 10 performers on the list. Nearly all were the teens and children Y/n taught with Jake, the woman standing from her chair to cheer them on. At the eighth performance she froze at the sight of the blonde man behind the curtain. He hadn’t seen her yet, so Y/n ducked back to her chair, peeking slightly to find him conversing with Collins.

‘Well looks like I’m not getting out of this one,’ she thought to herself.

When the second to last performer appeared, Y/n found Nat in the audience. The two shared a look, Nat able to see the unease seeping off Y/n, and throwing her thumbs up in hopes to relieve some of it. The (y/h/c) shook her head slightly, but appreciated the gesture nonetheless with a small smile.

Mr. Collins glides to the stage one final time, “And now,” a quick glance to his clipboard, then to the side of the stage opposite of Y/n, a smile curling on his lips. “We have a very special presentation from two people who were kind enough to help me put this whole shabang together,” raising a hand out he announces, “Please welcome the beautiful and ever so talented, here to bring you the time of your life, Jake Seresin and Y/n L/n!!”

There was a light applause from the adults overshadowed by the children, teens, staff members, and Natasha. Y/n’s parents were unreactive, glancing at her siblings wondering if they knew to which they received shrugs.

Still sitting in a chair just off the stage, not moving despite the lights flashing on her, Y/n’s head was down. The door was not far. She could easily make an escape. But she felt eyes on from those within view and felt trapped. To run now would be a lifetime of embarrassment and shame.

“C’mon, Y/n,” she scolded under her breath. “It’s just one dance.” "Then you can go back to New York and pray this whole thing never happened.”

As the thought left her mind, footsteps came toward her, and Y/n glanced up to find Jake, dressed in black slacks and buttoned down enough to make a girl weak in the knees, staring down at her with an expression that took her breath away. It was as though they were the only two in the room, much like in the studio. Everyone else simply disappeared. Leaving two people who danced around feelings for years only to come together at that very moment.

Whatever hostility Y/n had for Jake was gone. She saw the pure love in his eyes. Pleading with her to give him a chance.

Simply holding his hand out to her, Jake held her gaze and spoke clearly for everyone to hear, “Nobody puts Y/n in a corner.” Had her heart not been beating at 100 miles per second, Y/n would’ve laughed at the reference. Considering how fitting it was to their situation.

The beginning lyrics of the song echoed as Jake led her to the middle of the stage. Already igniting applause from the audience who recognized it. “Now I’ve had the time of my life.” An arm snaked around her waist, pulling her to him. Never once straying eye contact “No, I’ve never felt this way before.” Y/n dipped back, Jake keeping her from falling to the floor until she was upright, “Yes I swear, It’s the truth. And I owe it all to you.”

“‘Cause I’ve,” Jake came around to her left, Y/n bringing up a hand which his own followed the trail of her arm. She caressed the side of his face. His group of friends hooting and hollering, “had the time of my life. And I owe it all to you.” A gentle kiss was placed on her nose.

Cheers from their students erupted when Jake spun Y/n, bringing a smile to both their faces as they began their routine. “I’ve been waiting for so long. Now I’ve finally found someone to stand by me.” Natasha whistled from her seat, “Yeah!”

“We saw the writing on the wall. As we felt this magical fantasy.”

All through the dance Y/n never once stopped grinning. Jake’s aura, the nostalgia of the song, and the love she had for dance were contagious. “Now with passion in our eyes, there’s no way we could disguise it secretly.” Unbeknownst to the woman, her parents and siblings were watching in awe. Having been the first time they truly watched her perform. “So we take each other’s hands,” Jake spun her again, Y/n throwing her arms in the air, head swaying back and forth. “‘Cause we seem to understand the urgency.”

“Just remember,” the pace picked up. “You’re the one thing. I can’t get enough of. So I’ll tell you something,” Y/n was lifted, dress flowing as Jake twirled them in circles. The audience applauded with glee.

“I’ve had the time of my life. No, I never felt this way before.” The cheers heightened when the two pressed against each other, the sight very intimate. “Yes, I swear, it’s the truth. And I owe it all to you.” Jake snuck a kiss to her cheek, moving away to leap off the stage. “Hey, baby!” Y/n tilted her head back in laughter, fingers on the hem of her dress skirt and swaying to the beat.

“With my body and soul, I want you more than you’ll ever know. So we’ll just let it go, don’t be afraid to lose control, no.” It was Jake’s moment to shine. He fed off the energy of the crowd, winking at his boys in the back hyping him up. Y/n caught Natasha’s thumbs up, the two sharing a silent victory. “Yes I know what’s on your mind. When you say, ‘Stay with me tonight’.”

“Stay with me. Just remember,” Jake danced up and down the aisle, “You’re the one thing. I can’t get enough of. So I’ll tell you something,” locking eyes, they gave each other a nod. “This could be love,” staff helped Y/n off the stage, the woman bolting toward Jake, “because--.” Squeezing every muscle in her body, Y/n exhaled in relief as she was successfully lifted in the air.

“I’ve had the time of my life. No, I’ve never felt this way before.” It was a spectacular scene around them with everyone jumping from their seats, in awe of what they were witnessing. “Yes, I swear (yes I swear), it’s the truth. And I owe it all to you.”

Y/n giggled the whole way down, arms sliding over Jake’s shoulder who shared her happiness. “‘Cause I’ve had the time of my life. And I’ve searched through every open door,” Several people joined in the celebration. Spouses dancing together, children off beat but having the time of their life like the song called for. “‘Til I found the truth. And I owe it all to you.” Even Y/n’s parents managed to get on their feet.

Finally seeing their daughter for who she was.

“Are you okay?” he asked her, the first words spoken between the two. It made her heart skip, filled with an overwhelming surge of happiness.

“I feel like I’m on cloud 9,” the response had Jake chuckle, pulling her closer to him as he voiced, “me too, doll.”

They kept their gaze on one another, swaying chest to chest, the tune became softer, “Now I’ve had the time of my life. No I never felt this way before (never felt this way),” Jake’s hand caressed her cheek, Y/n leaning into it. “Yes, I swear, It’s the truth (It’s the truth),” the two leaned in at the same time, Bill Medley’s voice belting the final lyric of the bridge, “And I owe it all to you!”

The kiss set off a million fireworks. Just like it did the first time. They didn’t know if the cheers around them were intended for the two, but they didn’t stop the kiss to find out. Y/n’s hand covering Jake’s on her face, brushing her fingers over his knuckles, “I’ve had the time of my life. No, I never felt this way before (never felt this way). Yes, I swear, it’s the truth (it’s the truth). And I owe it all to you.” Pulling away, Jake’s touch remained.

“Be my dance partner,” were his words, pushing through the ending chorus. ‘Be mine,’ “Forever.”

“‘Cause I’ve had the time of my life. And I’ve searched through every open door.”

Y/n brushed her lips against his. Uttering nothing more than a simple, “Yes.”

“‘Til I found the truth. And I owe it all to you…”

…………..

TGM tag list: @avaleineandafryingpan @caitsymichelle13 @poppyalice2001 @cutelittlepotatofry @luckyladycreator2 @americaarse @elenavampire21 @back-tooo-black @wildellaa @artemissunn @pinkpantheris @kmc1989

[objectspod]

Surprise! We're on hiatus while Greg and Dana are on tour, but to give you some Haunted Objects Podcast in the meantime and to celebrate some news about "The Unbinding", our live special on The Curse of the Catskills Crone just dropped!

While hiking off the beaten path in New York's Catskill Mountains, two hikers stumbled upon a disturbing statue hidden inside a cave. Then, all hell broke loose.

To celebrate Tubi's free-to-watch debut of our scary-as-hell documentary "The Unbinding", join us for this special LIVE episode of The Haunted Objects Podcast! Featuring previously unreleased footage, interviews with the cast and crew, and more surprises, this episode is stuffed with exclusive insight into the making of Planet Weird's first feature-length film... and our most frightening paranormal investigation yet. Plus, the Brotherhood of Magicians returns with a limited edition merch drop set to disappear faster than you can say "abracadabra".

Time to lace up your hiking boots and prepare to suffer a witch, because we're heading into the mountains to break the curse of the Catskills Crone!

Watch "The Unbinding" for free on Tubi:

[positivelybeastly]

I’m gonna need more information, dr McCoy. When did you buy the sex cabin? How did you buy the sex cabin? Why did you buy the sex cabin? (Actually, I think I know the last one)

"I don't have to answer these questions."

"I really don't have to answer these questions."

"I absolutely do not have to answer those questions."

"I - don't have to answer any of those questions."

"Get out of my lab or I'll have you flensed."

All right, so let's think about this logically.

Let's deep dive.

So, the Catskills are a very pretty area in upstate New York state, and looking up current real estate prices, you get a decent variety of prices depending on how much land you want. I can see a 2,600 square foot lot for $12,500, but that doesn't seem nearly big enough for what Hank appears to have bought, so we'll assume it's at least an acre? There's actually a 2.8 acre lot CURRENTLY for sale for $29,000, but that's completely barren, just the land.

If you want a cabin, you're paying around $79,000.

How the fuck did Hank afford that?

So, there's a few ways you can read this: either Hank originally just rented the cabin back in the day and only bought it recently, or he just straight up bought it back in the day. I'm inclined to believe it's the latter because he explicitly says that he bought it for Bobby and his double dates, which were only ever really a thing in very early X-Men, from the 60s to the early 1970s.

For those of you not familiar with The Big Chill (I wasn't), it's a movie scripted by Lawrence Kasdan, who you might know better as the screenwriter for Empire Strikes Back, Return of the Jedi, and co-writer of Raiders of the Lost Ark and The Bodyguard.

The pertinent detail, and the reference Jean is making, is that the movie features a group of old friends who have lost touch with one another, and a house two of them are renovating, which leads me to think that if Hank did buy a cabin, it probably was a fixer upper and Hank had to basically re-build it. Which, honestly, seems like the kind of thing he'd do, he'd enjoy the building challenge, and it'd probably make things quite a bit cheaper.

But.

Fucking look at this place.

That is a fucking fireplace!!! The hell, Hank?!

So, Hank presumably bought this place when he was 17-18? How the hell did he get the money for this? I feel like if he'd just gotten the money off Warren, it would have come up, but honestly, I have a different solution.

Hank is smart.

Do you know how much Harvard professors make? Around $163,000 a year. And here's another fun little tidbit.

Oh.

Oh, yeah, Hank can just do that. Hank can just pull $1,000 easy. That's probably an afternoon's work for him. And that's 1993 money, that'd be more like $2k today.

All Hank has to do is sell a few patents, do a sweep of some local universities, put up a listing to write some people's papers for them, offer to tutor some rich assholes who can afford to pay him what he wants to get them through a semester, and suddenly that's actually not that expensive.

As for why . . . well.

[ao3feed-stevebucky]

Somewhere in a dream between

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/D65n9sp

by Bittersweet_in_Boston

Someone’s calling to him, the vaguest echo of a voice.

He opens his eyes. The sky is black and the summer constellations blaze in the abyss. The clearing is silent and empty but for the fire in the middle, which has burnt down to embers but nonetheless sheds a bright red-orange glow over the grass and the tree.

It’s perfectly warm, no late-summer chill in the air at all. He supposes this is because he’s got his uniform on but as he looks down, he realizes that somehow he’s now completely naked. And instead of lying curled up in the moss, he’s propped up, half-seated against the tree.

  What the fuck.

Words: 5673, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: James "Bucky" Barnes, Steve Rogers, Jarvis (Iron Man movies), Tony Stark, Wanda Maximoff, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Bruce Banner, ”Dr. Corvidus”, A mysterious person in the woods

Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Captain America Steve Rogers, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes, Husbands, The Avengers - Freeform, Some dickhead supervillain, Catskills, Robot deer, A beech tree, Magic, Disappearance, Natasha Romanov is a good friend, who loves to shit-talk, camping out, Stakeout mode, Sleep, Restraints, caressing, Submission, Tendril hand job, Object Insertion, That’s right it’s tree porn, Like tentacle porn only botanical, Tree Sex, Magic tree lube, anal penetration, Kissing, Dryad Steve, Impalement, Sounding, Butt Plugs, Come play, Finger Sucking, Come Eating, Come Saving, Come as fertilizer, Not a tag I ever thought I’d write, A gift from Cernunnos, Flowers

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/D65n9sp

[31stday]

The Unbinding

Synopsis: A documentary detailing occult researchers Greg and Dana Newkirk's investigation into a a strange statue that was found in the Catskills.

Year/Country: 2023, USA

Subgenres: documentary, haunting

Reason for watching: A friend picked this one to watch - we both have listened to Dana and Grey Newkirk's podcast and he has watched their YouTube show as well.

Highlights: Some chilling parts. Really fun investigation

Lowlights: Pacing is a little slow and reenactments are a little weird

Rewatchabilty: Yes

Overall review: I usually just cover full length fiction films here but this documentary is worth a viewing for folks who are interested in hauntings. It's got mixed reviews and a low rating on IMDB but I like it.

Who should watch it?: Ghost fans

[studiomiguel]

For better or worse, we don’t necessarily choose who comes into (or stays) in our lives. For better, Deb came into mine in the spring of life, when I was just a small town boy living’ in a lonely world, falling in love with her big sister. Soon after meeting them, she and the love of her life extended their friendship to me. First, they looked askance at this weird kid, then accepted and finally embraced me. 

Thirty-three years ago they invited me to pile into their brand new 1990 Isuzu pickup with a camper shell for a road trip to San Isabel National Forrest in Colorado. It was an AMAZING trip. One of the most memorable of my life. The first time I had ever seen a real mountain, breathed alpine air, felt the chill night in the middle of summer! I never knew such experiences existed. New experience after new experience. It put me in the mind of Jean George’s, ‘My Side Of the Mountain’ wherein a young boy named Sam escapes to the Catskill mountains and lives on little more than his wits for a year by making a home in the burned out hollow of a tree. Every morning, I would get up early, hike in the wilderness and imagine that I had escaped my droll reality to a life there in that paradise. On one of those walks would I cut a small sapling into a walking stick. Long-forgotten, they thoughtfully saved this and recently gifted it back to me. 

Every time I drive over Raton Pass on the southern border of the state, I remember the first time in that little pickup at 7800’ with those two dear friends-soon-to-be-family. We laugh together when the trip comes up and Deborah Anne points out that I had eaten the trip’s entire stash of homemade chocolate chip cookies before we ever left the great state of Texas. In my defense: 1) The cookies were delicious and 2) Texas is HUGE! Debbie & her heart understood John Muir’s famous statement: ‘The mountains are calling and I must go'. She and her family would answer that beacon many times in the following decades. 

The second of three sisters, she has always been an upbeat, outgoing and infectious personality with a rapier observational wit. Always the constant and stable mother-figure, it took me years to believe the stories my wife would tell of her wild side before she settled down to care for a family and raise two rambunctious boys.

Growing up as I did with two sisters, it was an easy transition to include a new one in my life and as my own siblings and I grew distant over the years, she proved to be a wonderful surrogate-sister filling that emotional place in my heart. It has always brought me especially great joy that Debbie brightens my own wife’s disposition so and their relationship is perfectly portrayed by Louisa May Alcott in Little Women. If my own love is Jo, then Debbie would be analogous to Meg… maybe a dash of Beth from time to time. Perhaps sisters understand each other in a way that one one else (especially brothers) can. Neither she, nor those like her, realize the feelings of envy that many women feel toward families like her own. Not perfect by any stretch, but thoughtful, engaged and always always connected. I like to say ‘thank God that love is temporal and not geographic’, I have truly seen love defy time and space between my wife and her sisters. 

Rich in the possession of a good man's heart, Deborah raised two children, drove trucks, roofed, baked cookies, worked disaster relief, started (& retired from) a career as a white-hat and now in the third chapter of life in this existence, I see her face new and terrifying realities. Always one to wear a brave face (what mother isn’t), you’d never know monsters stalk in her shadows. I suppose something else she is teaching me is that it isn’t the looming threats or realities that define us, but the faith we exercise when we face them, confident, as my dear sister is, that victory will be ours. 

I wish words could heal us, they are the only power we have. 

[fourtwentythousandmiles]

Day 5-8

An early start for our 8.30 flight out of SFO to Newark to pickup up our rental (grey charger) and then drive 2.5 hours north into the Catskills in both great scenery and at times torrential rain,

We arrived to a party in full swing - the New Yorkers had all arrived done 4 or 5 hours earlier and were already deep into post dinner drinks and general imbibing.

That is to say we had some catching up to do especially with both great old friends like Robert, Sanky and Lara and all Tim’s New York friends.

We rose early Saturday to see that people were skipping breakfast and already drinking champagne. The day of Tim’s 60th party had finally arrived.

Everyone was chipping into the party prep while chatting and hanging out around the pool, the fire pit and the kitchen.

We loaded up the cars by 4pm and made our way over to the party barn run by Paul from Dope Jams in Durham.

A slow start with summer drinks, disco tunes and some BBQ warmed up as night fell and deserts were consumed. Dea and I spent the night bouncing between the campfire and the barn rolling home at around 5am.

Everyone was still awake back at the house so we joined them for an early morning nightcap, Dea decided to recover in the hot tub and then we retired to bed.

With a very late start to Sunday (finally appeared showered and refreshed at 4.40pm in my case) we sat around chatting with all our new found friends;

Miles and Dehlia

Max snd Merissa

Paul and Jason

Maggie and James

Brian and his gardener girlfriend

Mark, Trene, Siobhan, Brooks, Anton and Phil

And of course hanging out with old friends

Tim and Maddy

John and Will and Robert

Sanky and Lara

Tim cooked up an absolute storm of a meal with some help from everyone - a chill green bean salad, ETA pasted potatoes and a mixture of roasted chickens.

Much wine was drink around the pool and the campfire as we eased through into the early hours of Monday morning.

Monday was an early start to help clear up before driving back to the airport via the local recycling plant.

We made it back to Marin by 6pm to pick Teo up from practice before coming home exhausted to the rest of the family for an early night.

Meanwhile back on Marin the boys are entertaining Nanny and Gerry with meals out at Picante and Lotus Indian.

[akaraboonline]

Movies To Watch With Your Boyfriend

In the era of online dating, the phrase "Netflix and chill" has lost all meaning. However, nothing beats watching a movie with your boyfriend if you want to unwind over the weekend. Are you unsure of the movie you should see with your boyfriend? Making a choice can be challenging with so many options available on OTT platforms and in theaters. Not to worry! 30 movies that you can watch with your boyfriend are listed below. These films range from romantic comedies to romantic dramas, and some of them might be less serious than others. Pick one that matches your two of you's preferences and mood. Check it out! 1. The Notebook (2004)

Mill worker Noah Calhoun (Ryan Gosling) and wealthy Allie (Rachel McAdams) are in a passionate relationship in 1940s South Carolina. Her parents, however, disapprove. Their relationship appears to come to an end when Noah leaves to serve in World War II. Allie starts dating another man in the interim. (James Marsden). But it quickly becomes apparent that their romance is still very much alive when Noah returns to their small town years later, right before Allie gets married. 2. Titanic (1997)

The epic, action-packed romance "Titanic" by James Cameron is set against the tragic maiden voyage of the R.M.S. Titanic, which was once the pride and joy of the White Star Line and the biggest moving object ever constructed. She was the most opulent liner of her time, the "ship of dreams," and in the early hours of April 15, 1912, she was responsible for the deaths of over 1,500 passengers in the icy waters of the North Atlantic. 3. Dirty Dancing (1987)

One dreary summer separates Baby (Jennifer Grey) from joining the Peace Corps. She is dissatisfied when her summer plans place her and her parents at a sleepy resort in the Catskills because she had hoped to enjoy her youth while it lasts. Her luck changes, though, when Johnny (Patrick Swayze), the resort's dance instructor, chooses Baby as his new partner and the two fall in love. Although Baby's father forbids her from seeing Johnny, she is adamant about helping him perform the summer's final major dance. 4. La La Land (2016)

Mia (Emma Stone) and Sebastian (Ryan Gosling) are brought together by their shared desire to pursue their passions. However, as their success grows, they are forced to make choices that threaten to tear the delicate fabric of their relationship apart and the dreams they have worked so hard to maintain for one another. 5. The Princess Bride (1987)

A fantastical story about a lovely young lady and her true love. After a protracted absence, he must locate her and save her. To be reunited with one another, they must overcome the evils of Florin, a legendary kingdom. based on "The Princess Bride," a book by William Goldman that has a devoted following of its own. 6. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (2004)

After a difficult breakup, Clementine (Kate Winslet) has a procedure done to remove Joel (Jim Carrey) from her mind's memory. When Joel learns that Clementine is taking extreme measures to forget about their relationship, he follows suit and gradually starts to forget the woman he once loved. The visually stunning film, which Michel Gondry, a former music video director, directed, examines the complexity of relationships and the agony of loss. 7. The Fault in Our Stars (2014)

16-year-old cancer patient Hazel Grace Lancaster (Shailene Woodley) meets and falls in love with Gus Waters (Ansel Elgort), a fellow patient from her cancer support group. Hazel believes Gus truly comprehends her. Both of them have a biting sense of humor and a passion for reading, especially Grace's favorite book, "An Imperial Affliction" by Peter Van Houten. Gus and Hazel set out on the adventure of a lifetime when they receive an invitation to meet the reclusive author. 8. A Star is Born (2018)

Jackson Maine, a seasoned musician, meets and falls in love with Ally, a struggling artist. Prior to Jackson's prodding her into the spotlight, she has all but given up on her ambition to become a successful singer. However, as Jackson continues to struggle with his own inner demons, their relationship is falling apart even as Ally's career soars. 9. The Vow (2012)

Despite being happily married and brand-newlyweds, Paige (Rachel McAdams) and Leo (Channing Tatum) experience a car accident that puts her in a coma, shattering their idyllic life together. Paige has terrible memory loss and doesn't recognize Leo when she wakes up. She also struggles to understand her parents' (Sam Neill and Jessica Lange) relationship, and she still has feelings for a former fiance. (Scott Speedman). Leo is adamant about strengthening their bond and starting over in their marriage in spite of these challenging challenges. 10. The Great Gatsby (2013)

Nick Carraway (Tobey Maguire), a native of the Midwest, travels to New York in 1922 in search of the American dream. Across the bay from his cousin Daisy (Carey Mulligan) and her philandering husband Tom, Nick, a would-be writer, moves in next door to millionaire Jay Gatsby (Leonardo DiCaprio). (Joel Edgerton). As a result, Nick is drawn into the alluring world of the wealthy and, as he observes their deceptions and illusions, writes a story of tragic love that is impossible. 11. The Before Trilogy (1995-2013)

This well-known three-part romance, which serves as the focal point of director Richard Linklater's career-long investigation of cinematic time, captures a relationship as it emerges, develops, deepens, and faces challenges over the course of nearly two decades. The Before Trilogy follows the relationship between Celine (Julie Delpy) and Jesse (Ethan Hawke) from their first encounter as idealistic twentysomethings to the disillusionment they face together in middle age. Delpy and Hawke give their characters a sense of lived-in experience and allow them to age on-screen alongside them. 12. Silver Linings Playbook (2012)

After losing his job and wife, and spending time in a mental institution, Pat Solatano (Bradley Cooper) winds up living with his parents (Robert De Niro, Jacki Weaver). He wants to rebuild his life and reunite with his wife, but his parents would be happy if he just shared their obsession with the Philadelphia Eagles. When Pat meets Tiffany (Jennifer Lawrence), she offers to help him get back in touch with his wife in exchange for something very significant he will do for her. This is when things become complicated. 13. The Holiday (2006)

English rose Iris, who has just been dumped and is feeling down, decides to swap homes with similarly unlucky in love Californian Amanda in order to take a much-needed break. Amanda is navigating the streets of an idyllic English village while Iris finds herself in an opulent Hollywood mansion. Soon enough, the two lonely women run into some local guys who would be ideal for a romantic pick-me-up. 14. The Time Traveler's Wife (2009)

Henry De Tamble (Eric Bana), a librarian in Chicago, has a rare genetic disorder that causes him to uncontrollably travel through time. He meets Claire (Rachel McAdams), the love of his life, while on one of his excursions, and they get married. However, Henry's inability to stay in one place and time makes any relationship's issues and challenges worse because he and his beloved are constantly out of sync. 15. The Proposal (2009)

High-powered book editor Margaret Tate (Sandra Bullock), who faces deportation to her native Canada, announces her engagement to her helpless assistant Andrew Paxton (Ryan Reynolds). The ruse is accepted by Andrew, but he places some restrictions on it, including the requirement that he travel to Alaska to visit his eccentric family. Margaret and Andrew must follow through on their wedding plans despite numerous setbacks, especially since a suspicious immigration official is constantly lurking nearby. 16. The Best of Me (2014)

Dawson (James Marsden) and Amanda (Michelle Monaghan) were once high school sweethearts. When they visit their hometown to attend a mutual friend's funeral, they have a bittersweet reunion. After 20 years apart, seeing each other again rekindles the love they've never forgotten, but Amanda and Dawson soon learn that the factors that tore them apart in their youth now pose even greater dangers. based on Nicholas Sparks' book. 17. The Lucky One (2012)

U.S. Marine Sgt. Logan Thibault (Zac Efron) returns home from his third tour of duty in Iraq with the one thing he believes kept him alive: a photograph of a woman he doesn't even know. He learns the woman's name is Beth (Taylor Schilling) and goes to meet her, eventually taking a job at her family-run kennel. Even though Beth has a complicated life and is full of mistrust, a romance develops, giving Logan hope that Beth might end up being more than just his lucky charm. 18. Crazy, Stupid, Love (2011)

The American dream is being lived by Cal Weaver (Steve Carell). He has an excellent job, a lovely home, wonderful kids, and a stunning wife named Emily. (Julianne Moore). Nevertheless, when Cal finds out that Emily has been unfaithful and wants a divorce, his seemingly perfect life begins to fall apart. Cal, who is over 40 and recently single, is lost in the erratic world of dating. Cal is taken under the wing by self-styled player Jacob Palmer (Ryan Gosling), who shows him the ropes on how to score with the ladies. 19. Me Before You (2016)

Young and eccentric Louisa "Lou" Clark (Emilia Clarke) works various jobs to support her family. When she starts caring for Will Traynor (Sam Claflin), a wealthy young banker who was paralyzed in an accident two years prior, her upbeat outlook is put to the test. When Louisa demonstrates to Will that life is worthwhile, his pessimistic outlook begins to change. Their lives and hearts change as their bond grows stronger in ways neither of them could have anticipated. 20. 500 Days of Summer (2009)

Writer of greeting cards and hopeless romantic Tom (Joseph Gordon-Levitt) is taken completely by surprise when Summer (Zooey Deschanel) abruptly breaks up with him. Tom rediscovers his true passions in life as he thinks back on their 500 days together to try to understand why their relationship soured. 21. Love, Rosie (2014)

close associates When Alex and his family relocate from Dublin to America, Rosie and Alex find themselves abruptly apart. Can their relationship withstand time and distance? Will they put everything on the line for true love? 22. The Spectacular Now (2013)

Sutter, a well-known party animal, meets the reserved Aimee by chance after unexpectedly awakening on a stranger's lawn. An unexpected romance develops between Sutter and Aimee as Sutter deals with his personal issues and Aimee makes plans for her life after school. 23. Perfect Addiction

The world crumbles for Sienna Lane when she discovers her boyfriend Jax Deneris having sex with her sister. She loses her family, friends, and home in less than five minutes. Sienna quickly plots a course of vengeance that will hit Jax where it hurts the most—in the MMA ring—after swearing to get even with him. 24. Call Me By Your Name (2017)

Elio Perlman, a bright 17-year-old, is spending the summer of 1983 with his family at their 17th-century villa in Lombardy, Italy. He quickly meets Oliver, a dashing doctoral candidate who is serving as Elio's father's intern. Elio and Oliver learn the heady beauty of rekindling desire over the course of a summer that will change their lives forever as they are immersed in the sun-drenched splendor of their surroundings. 25. The Art of Getting By (2011)

Senior at a prestigious Manhattan prep school, George (Freddie Highmore) has little tolerance for following rules because of his disgruntled attitude. He actively avoids his parents (Rita Wilson and Sam Robards), preferring to draw and read philosophy instead. Unfortunately, George's disposition jeopardizes his ability to graduate. then encounters Sally (Emma Roberts). Despite the fact that Michael Angarano, an older artist, complicates things, George finds himself falling in love with her. 26. About Time (2013)

Tim Lake (Domhnall Gleeson) learns a family secret from his father Bill Nighy when he is 21 years old: Their male ancestors have the ability to travel through time. Tim decides to change his life by finding a girlfriend even though he cannot change the past. Through time travel and a little deception, he finally wins Mary's heart after meeting her (Rachel McAdams). As Tim's extraordinary life develops, he discovers that his special ability is unable to protect him and the people he loves from the difficulties of daily life. 27. Blue Valentine (2010)

Ryan Gosling and Michelle Williams' characters Dean and Cindy lead quiet lives in a modest area. Everything seems normal to a casual observer, if somewhat subdued. However, a closer look reveals a couple caught in a vicious cycle. At the beginning of the relationship, they seem to have the entire world at their fingertips. However, their marriage is at risk of falling apart due to his lack of ambition and her retreat into self-indulgence. 28. Before Sunrise (1995)

American Jesse (Ethan Hawke), who is traveling to Vienna, meets Celine (Julie Delpy), a student who is departing for Paris. Jesse convinces Celine to get off the train with him in Vienna after their lengthy conversations create a startling connection between them. They wander the city together, taking in the sights and sounds of Vienna and each other since he has no money for lodging and his flight to the U.S. leaves the next morning. Their bond grows stronger throughout the night, making it challenging to decide to part ways in the morning. 29. To All the Boys I've Loved Before (2018)

Lara Jean never intended to send the private, bare-chested letters she writes to her five crushes. They are currently active and causing chaos in her life. 30. 10 Things I Hate About You (1999)

Because Kat Stratford (Julia Stiles) is attractive, intelligent, and quite abrasive to most of her peers, she doesn't draw a lot of attention from boys. House rules state that Bianca (Larisa Oleynik), Kat's younger sister, cannot date until Kat has a boyfriend, so efforts are made to set the gloomy damsel up for a relationship. Soon Kat runs into handsome newcomer Patrick Verona. (Heath Ledger). Will Kat let her guard down long enough to be seduced by the affable Patrick?   Read the full article

[sudcikis]

Yeah, she was in the first movie and they're bringing her back for the second. Oh yeah, we finally settled on a date, we just loved the idea of opening up the house to all our friends and we thought why not tie in a wedding too. Thank you so much, we would love to have you there. Oh yeah, I completely understand that! I love places like that though, I think that's why I'm enjoying the Catskills so much because we're still in New York but it's so far away from New York City that it doesn't feel like it. I think Yogi is a good in between, I think he can be wild but he's also really chill and he's great with the kids.

Oh, no way! Gigi's always pointing out stuff from that franchise when we go to Target. Nah, I don't think it's weird, and even if it may be a little difficult, I think you both will be able to work through it. Like you said, you can visit her, and then it won't seem so bad. Plus, I may have just gotten a little invite that tells me you two are going to have way much more time together than apart. Congratulations again to both of you, I cannot wait to be there to celebrate your big day. I really can see myself finding a weird in-between to city living. Like, I loved the little trip I just took to Malibu, and that's still in LA but feels like it's in its own little universe. Ha, yeah, I can't ride anything too wild. As dirty as that sounds. I'm getting frail and my bones are getting thin, so I have to stick to the types of horses they have at county fairs. Very slow, very easy, safe for children to pet. Those are my kinds of horses.

[teenageread]

Review: Twenty Years Later

Synopsis:

Hiding her own dark past in plain sight, a TV reporter is determined to uncover the truth behind a gruesome murder decades after the investigation was abandoned. But TWENTY YEARS LATER, to understand the present, you need to listen to the past…

Avery Mason, host of American Events, knows the subjects that grab a TV audience’s attention. Her latest story—a murder mystery laced with kinky sex, tragedy, and betrayal—is guaranteed to be ratings gold. New DNA technology has allowed the New York medical examiner’s office to make its first successful identification of a 9/11 victim in years. The twist: the victim, Victoria Ford, had been accused of the gruesome murder of her married lover. In a chilling last phone call to her sister, Victoria begged her to prove her innocence.

Emma Kind has waited twenty years to put her sister to rest, but closure won’t be complete until she can clear Victoria’s name. Alone she’s had no luck, but she’s convinced that Avery’s connections and fame will help. Avery, hoping to negotiate a more lucrative network contract, goes into investigative overdrive. Victoria had been having an affair with a successful novelist, found hanging from the balcony of his Catskills mansion. The rope, the bedroom, and the entire crime scene was covered in Victoria’s DNA.

But the twisted puzzle of Victoria’s private life just the beginning. And what Avery doesn't realize is that there are other players in the game who are interested in Avery’s own secret past—one she has kept hidden from both the network executives and her television audience. A secret she thought was dead and buried . . .

Plot:

Avery Mason knows she is the hottest TV host on air. With the death of her predecessor, Avery took over American Events, and ratings have skyrocketed. Sure it was because she was doing unusual stunts, but still, she was doing great and the network was trying to lowball her into a terrible contract. Telling her lawyer to fix it, Avery set off to New York, her childhood home to scope out a story about a person recently identified from bone fragments from the Twin Towers, almost twenty years after the fall. Talking to the sister, the only living kin of the victim, Avery finds herself more than just a story for American Events, but a mystery. The victim, Victoria Ford, was at the Twin Towers on the day of 9/11 because she was meeting with her attorney for her murder trial that was coming up. Victoria was charged with the murder of famous author Cameron Young, whom she had a kinky affair with that ended with a sloppy murder and charges against Victoria. Yet when 9/11 happened, the world was in terror, and cases like Victoria’s where both the defendant and accused are dead just fell away. Promising to bring some sort of justice for Victoria, Avery sets off to show the world who Victoria Ford was, and to bring up the question: did Victoria really kill Cameron? To do that, Avery contacts the lead detective on the case, ex-FBI agent Walt Jenkins. Walt who was so far away from NYC and her troubles, as he was enjoying his time in Jamaica. After surviving what should have been a deadly shot, he took an early retirement and moved to Jamaica, and has spent the past three years drinking rum and wondering how he got to this point in life. When the FBI calls up and tells him about Avery’s investigation into the Victoria Ford case, they have a secondary motive to make Walt come back to New York. As Avery was not who she claimed to be, the FBI wanted Walt to get close to her and discover her secret past. With Avery looking into Victoria, and Walt looking into Avery, secrets, and lies from the past twenty years come to the surface, and as the world begins to commemorate the horrific event of 9/11 and mourn all those who died.

Thoughts:

Charlie Donlea takes us on a mystery thriller of a ride, as Avery and Walt work together to figure out what happened twenty years ago, and if Victoria really did kill Cameron, or if she was framed. Switching between the third person point of view of Avery and Walt, you got to see both sides of the investigation for Victoria, Walt’s investigation of Avery, and Avery's looking into her own past. Now this book is hard to get into at first, as Donlea does a long lead-up with Victoria entering the Twin Towers on September 11, 2001 and the meeting she had, before skipping twenty years into the future with Avery in LA hosting American Events. Dividing the book into several parts, Donlea also includes the dates of each chapter and their locations as the story bumps around from California, New York, Jamaica, and more. This does not add anything to the story, but it also does not take anything away, besides Donlea wanting to show off their timeline for the story. Individually Walt and Avery were good characters, both dedicated to the mystery, and willing to do what it takes, and each had secrets that Donlea slowly revealed throughout the story. As a couple? The romance element I could not get, as Donlea made them have zero connection outside the case besides sharing dark secrets and how Avery notices the little things about Walt. Thankfully this novel was classed as a mystery and not a romance, as where Walt and Avery did not make sense as a couple, Donlea did not make that a focus point, instead, this novel is the majority of the Victoria Ford case. Now that was well done, with kink-shaming, media coverage, to the little bits that do not make sense that Avery and Walt picked up along the way. Truly made me keep reading to see if Victoria was actually the killer, as the romance, Avery’s past, and Walt’s past were not cutting it. It just felt like Donlea was trying to do too much, and with the final chapters explaining the truth of what has been happening, it just made the story more of a letdown than needed to be. Sure finding out what was happening with Avery was nice, and the truth about what Victoria did or did not do was explained in the epilogue, just felt like it ruined what the story was building. Overall, the story was very mild, with a wild thriller with a bad ending, a lot of side drama, and an unneeded romance. This novel does not really commemorate 9/11 but does use the event as a backbone for this thrilling tale.

Read more reviews: Goodreads

Buy the book: Amazon

[bohemian-dreamz]

Me at Catskill Chill feat. the pop up tent pole~~~

[ao3feed-stevebucky]

Somewhere in a dream between

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/RHQGj41

by Bittersweet_in_Boston

Someone’s calling to him, the vaguest echo of a voice.

He opens his eyes. The sky is black and the summer constellations blaze in the abyss. The clearing is silent and empty but for the fire in the middle, which has burnt down to embers but nonetheless sheds a bright red-orange glow over the grass and the tree.

It’s perfectly warm, no late-summer chill in the air at all. He supposes this is because he’s got his uniform on but as he looks down, he realizes that somehow he’s now completely naked. And instead of lying curled up in the moss, he’s propped up, half-seated against the tree.

  What the fuck.

Words: 5673, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: James "Bucky" Barnes, Steve Rogers, Jarvis (Iron Man movies), Tony Stark, Wanda Maximoff, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Bruce Banner, ”Dr. Corvidus”, A mysterious person in the woods

Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Captain America Steve Rogers, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes, Husbands, The Avengers - Freeform, Some dickhead supervillain, Catskills, Robot deer, A beech tree, Magic, Disappearance, Natasha Romanov is a good friend, who loves to shit-talk, camping out, Stakeout mode, Sleep, Restraints, caressing, Submission, Tendril hand job, Object Insertion, That’s right it’s tree porn, Like tentacle porn only botanical, Tree Sex, Magic tree lube, anal penetration, Kissing, Dryad Steve, Impalement, Sounding, Butt Plugs, Come play, Finger Sucking, Come Eating, Come Saving, Come as fertilizer, Not a tag I ever thought I’d write, A gift from Cernunnos, Flowers

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/RHQGj41

[always-andromeda]

Oh. My. Gosh. Charlotte. I'm gonna scream about this whole post for a while because I felt so many emotions while going through this post and I have to express them all. The TL;DR is that I love this entire thing and I especially enjoyed reading through your breakdowns of each piece. I think you captured the album perfectly with your selection of art and it's everything I hoped it would be and more.

First of foremost, it's difficult for me to decided which song is my favorite off of this album? All of them resonate with me in different but equally as impactful of ways. But one standout for me is All My Love. It hits so deeply because I'm one of the few of my high school friends who still lives in the same town. It reminds me of those friends coming back, having faced all sorts of new experiences that have worn them down. I often find myself in the position of being the friend that has changed so much but has managed to stay more or less the same in that I'm always there, willing to give the same love that I once did.

Now I want to preface my response by saying that this album touches me so personally because it reminds me so much of the little town that my grandparents lived in and the best portions of my childhood. Basically all of these paintings felt like little vignettes from that town.

Avenue of Poplars in Autumn, for one, quite literally looks almost exactly like the road that led to my grandparents house. That painting being paired with the lines: "a minute from home / but I feel so far from it" hit so hard? It reminded me of a couple years ago when I decided to walk by that road leading to their house and saw that the new owners had renovated the entire property. And it was so bizarre being so close to this place I'd grown up in but feeling so removed from it.

Autumn, Varberg also looks exactly like one of the backroads that was in my grandparent's neighborhood. Autumn Landscape, Autumn in the Catskills, and The Trout Pool both also look exactly like scenes ripped straight from the walk to my grandparent's house. The Times of Day: The Morning makes me think go times I've driven up to their old town in autumn right before the chill of winter settles in.

I know that there are many rural areas on this planet that'll surely end up looking like scenes depicted in these painting and feel like areas described by Kahan in his music. But I think that both him and you have managed to curate this feeling of familiarity and warmth. A place that manages to feel like home even if it makes you a little depressed from yearning for a different time. These are places that are so firmly rooted in the past, yet they're made new by the people and communities that settle in these scenes. Time manages to both stand still and continue on relentlessly. And I think it's lovely that both you and Kahan have managed to conjure up such complex and nuanced emotions in that.

Thank you for putting this together, Charlotte. You're the absolute greatest. 💛

Hey hi hello, Charlotte!!

I’ve been on a bit of a Noah Kahan kick lately so I was wondering if I could make another request to feed into it!! Could you possibly do Gentileschi for the album Stick Season (We’ll All Be Here Forever)? Very much looking forward to whatever you come up with!! 🫶🏻☺️

(Also here is me adding that I’m sending you my love and support always and that I hope you’re doing well and taking care of yourself, dear. Mwah mwah mwah, all of the warmest hugs to you 💛)

visit the art gallery

my dearest loveliest Meda!!

thank you so much for this fantastic request and for your super sweet message!! 🥰🥰 oh and also a huge thank you for your super kind tags on my joan/boygenius post - I loved reading them! ☺️☺️

my sibling introduced me to Noah Kahan and omg I am obsessed so I'm totally with you on this and I'm super excited to pick out some paintings for it! also do you have a favorite song from the album?? mine's "call your mom" but we don't need to unpack that rn 😅😅

sending you my love and support right back! I hope the school year's off to a good start for you since it sounded like you've got some classes that you're excited about - that always helps 💕💕

for your request, that album is deeply associated with autumn for me (also I know it's your favorite season 🥰) so all the paintings I chose are very autumnal. in general, there's this kind of beautiful sadness on the album that I visualize as wide grey skies and empty landscapes that you watch out the car window as you drive through the mountains when everything is dying. there's beauty but there's also loneliness and sadness, but the kind you almost enjoy - the kind you sit in for a while. idk if that makes any sense at all, but that's the general vibe I tried to go for when I picked out these pieces. also, in my descriptions of each image, I added a little commentary on what song/lyric it reminds me of ☺️

these are the paintings I would choose for the album Stick Season (We'll All Be Here Forever) by Noah Kahan (with images and more info under the cut!)

Avenue of Poplars in Autumn by Vincent Van Gogh

Autumn, Varberg by Nils Kreuger

Autumn Landscape by Charles Ethan Porter

Autumn in the Catskills by Jervis McEntee

The Times of Day: The Morning by Caspar David Friedrich

The Trout Pool by Worthington Whittredge

Avenue of Poplars in Autumn by Vincent Van Gogh (1884)

"passed alger brook road / I'm over the bridge / a minute from home / but I feel so far from it"

this piece for me especially captures that kind of loneliness that I tend to feel in late autumn that Stick Season captures so beautifully. I absolutely adore fall, but by late autumn there always comes a time where I feel like I'm floating. the leaves have all fallen but it hasn't yet snowed. the sky is always grey and the air is cold enough to nip, but not yet strong enough to bite. there's this sense of both mourning something lost and anticipating something to come. idk if this makes any sense at all but that's what this piece brings to mind for me. of course, I loved that this figure is crossing a bridge - perfect for the "over the bridge" line - but I feel like this painting also captures the feeling of being a minute from home, but feeling so far away. we can see a house in the background of the piece, but it appears flat and distant, with the vertical lines of the trees seeming to push it back even further from both the figure and the viewer. also the light in this work is such a quintessentially autumn light that I can just feel it. like, I know exactly what it would feel like if I were to step into that scene. again, idk if that makes sense, but those are my unhinged ramblings on this piece lol 😅

Autumn, Varberg by Nils Kreuger (1888)

"forgive my northern attitude / I was raised out in the cold"

I like this one because it has the same atmosphere of the We'll All Be Here Forever edition cover. there's a dusting of snow and frost, but not enough to make it feel like a "winter wonderland." we still see all the drab, damp browns of the foliage beneath, kind of breaking that stereotypical image of the "ideal" winter scene. I guess I feel like the album kind of does that too - demystifies certain things and experiences. also, this is exactly the kind of image I picture when listening to "Northern Attitude," which I why I chose these lyrics for it. as someone who was raised and has lived in a more northern climate for most of my life, I find this song super relatable, and the scene depicted in this painting is totally something I could see while out taking my dog for a walk in November

Autumn Landscape by Charles Ethan Porter (ca. 1890-1891)

"I saw the end / it looked just like the middle"

this one I picked for the vastness of the spaces. that sweeping light grey sky and the field fading off into the distance are exactly the kinds of scenes that this album brings to mind. this is also a scene that I feel I've seen from a car window about a thousand times. I'm often traveling in late November (going to and from school for the holidays) so this image feels familiar and yet distant in the sense that I've seen it so many times, and yet never truly known it. I've seen it from a car on the highway, but never really stepped out into it. that's also why I picked this lyric for it - there's this sense of sameness and yet change that just resonates so much with both this album and just the general vibes of late autumn

Autumn in the Catskills by Jervis McEntee (1873)

"the birds will still sing / your folks will still fight / the boards will still creak / the leaves will still die"

okay I'm so sorry I feel like all of these descriptions are just me weirdly rambling about late autumn 😅. but this one I picked to be a little more on the happier side, even if Stick Season is kind of a soul-destroying (affectionate) album. I do absolutely adore autumn foliage and there is something so calming about this scene for me. additionally, I adore the song "You're Gonna Go Far" and I love the sentiment that's kind of like "I know you left but I'm so happy for you and I'll always be here for you." this is a very placid, still scene that feels like a calming breath. I paired it with these lyrics for that exact reason - they are a reassurance that everything will still be as you left it, that you can come back and sit in this autumnal forest and just rest and breathe.

The Times of Day: The Morning by Caspar David Friedrich (ca. 1821-1822)

"it's just me and the curve of the valley"

I also love "The View Between Villages" - there are so many emotions in that song, but I guess I always ultimately take away a feeling of coming home to yourself. there might be all these complications and messy feelings, but there's also a deep sense of comfort that weaves its way into your bones and pulls you back to wherever it is you need to be. so for another more positive one, I chose this image with mist rising from the water and blanketing the pines as the crest of the mountains rises behind them. it seemed perfect for this lyric, as it sort of literally depicts the curve of a valley, but to me it also feels welcoming. the sun is rising and turning the sky pale pink and yellow as you wind your way through the valley, the mist beginning to lift to show you the way back home.

The Trout Pool by Worthington Whittredge (1870)

"we'll be waiting for you, love / and we'll all be here forever"

this image gives me similar feelings as Autumn in the Catskills, and thus I paired it with lyrics from the same song. this scene just feels so warm and welcoming, with the light dappled on the soft moss and calm water. even more so than Autumn in the Catskills, this to me feels like a place I could walk right into. I can hear the leaf litter crunch beneath my feet, smell the pine on the crisp air, hear the chirping of birds and skittering of squirrels, feel the warmth in the patches of sunlight and a welcome chill in the shadows. it's a moment you want to stay in, linger with. that's why I wanted to close out with this one. this place - whether exists in real life or just in your mind - is there for you, waiting forever. autumn for me is a season that lets me step back into myself, and one of the themes I pulled from Stick Season is a sense of homecoming - whatever that means for you. the seasons will spin on and you may wander far, but this place, these memories and feelings and experiences, are here for you always. the wind picks up, rustling the branches above you. a few leaves break free from their branches, spinning lazily to the ground below. you think you hear something on the breeze - a voice, a whisper, a song: "we ain't angry at you, love / we'll be waiting for you, love / and we'll all be here forever"

I hope that wasn't too ramble-y and/or based too much on my personal experiences/interpretations 😅 I really love this album so this was such a fun request and I had a fantastic time looking for all these fun autumnal paintings!

I am wishing you the best always always always 💕💕💕💕

so much love to you, along with warm hugs and yummy cookies,

charlotte 🥰🥰

[theycallme-thejackal]

So what does Midge do with the information Noah gave her? :D

Pairing: Lenny Bruce & Midge Maisel Rated T Warnings: Mentions of Drug Use & Electroshock Therapy

Part 1 | Part 2

He signs all the necessary paperwork, and it takes much longer than he expected.

But he's out. He's clean. And he feels...

He actually feels pretty good.

It's a new feeling for him. The state run places just shock you into oblivion and pump you full of 'acceptable' drugs, and then when you leave you're just jonesing for something else. But this place actually feels like it helped.

Granted, the first twelve or so days were miserable with the withdrawal and the endless therapy sessions, but once he got past the chills and the vomiting and the diarrhea...it helped. For the first time in his life, he actually feels like he doesn't need to get high. He may want to, but his analyst had helped him realize how important the distinction between want and need is.

And what he needs right now is to go home and call -

"Midge?"

He stops just outside the door, his duffel slung over his shoulder as he looks at the woman who's dominated most of his thoughts and dreams over the last month...and long before that, if he's being honest.

She grins softly. "Hi, Lenny."

She looks perfect as usual. A little more casual than he's used to seeing her. She's wearing a light, pale pink dress, and her makeup is a little more natural than he's used to seeing it. "No hat?" He asks, nodding to her head.

She scoffs a laugh and shakes her head. "Two months since you last saw me and the first thing you ask is where's your hat?" She teases.

He chuckles and takes a few steps forward to meet her on the sidewalk, leaving a couple feet between them still. "What are you doing here?" He asks.

"I'm taking you home," she answers.

"How did you know - "

"I have my ways," she says. "Namely a brother who has...connections."

He arches a brow. "Do I want to know?"

"If I told you, I'd have to kill you."

"Ah," he replies knowingly. "Those kind of connections." He rubs his jaw, looking her up and down. "So you're taking me home?" He asks.

She nods. "Mm-hmm. Drove myself and everything."

"You drive now?"

She shrugs. "Noah taught me so I can drive back and forth to the city when we go to the Catskills. Turns out it comes in handy for other purposes." She gestures to the car behind her. "All I need to know is where we're going."

He nods slowly. "I have to go back to LA," he replies. "See my kid."

Midge turns and opens the trunk of the car. "So the airport then?" She asks, suddenly avoiding his gaze.

"You not up for the drive?" He asks, joining her and putting his bag in the trunk. "Or is it my company you're dreading?"

She huffs a laugh. "I just thought...I thought you'd like some time alone with your daughter."

He closes the trunk and waits for her to look at him before he says, "I'd also like some time with you. Alone or with other people, just...I've missed you," he confesses, a little surprised at how easy the admission comes. I guess that therapy did good for more than the drugs.

She seems to relax then. "I missed you too, Lenny," she replies, squeezing his upper arm lightly, the first time she's touched him in what feels like years.

"And...if it's not too much...maybe you could meet Kitty? And I could take you to dinner? We could...talk about - "

She cuts him off with a tender kiss, one that has him feeling unexpectedly lightheaded as the feeling of her floods his senses for too short a time. She pulls back after only a few seconds, and he opens his eyes to find her smiling up at him. "That all sounds perfect," she says, and he finally feels the last bits of anxiety untangle inside of him.