#like a third of the way through the book and it’s great so far

[adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy]

Percy Jackson on god we’re gonna get you a break bro

[punkshort]

Swept Away: Season Two

Chapter Two: Kokomo

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Chapter Summary: The first few days back in Fiji was heaven on earth - until things start to unravel.

Chapter Warnings: language, reader has long-ish hair, fluff, smut (18+ MDNI), alcohol and food consumption, wedding talk, possessiveness, jealousy, mention of OC substance abuse, an air of mystery, perhaps?

WC: 7.4K

Series Masterlist

A/N: inspired by this ask. I should also mention I have some personal stuff going on that I've been struggling with and yesterday things took a nose dive — I haven't been on here as much as usual but I'll try to hop on when I have the ability. Thank you for understanding ❤️

It had only been a couple days at The Parador and Joel had warned you repeatedly the hotel wasn't fully operational yet, to expect some things to not be ready or up to snuff, but so far it felt like literal heaven on earth. Waking up the past few mornings with the warm sea breeze floating in through the open doors of your bedroom, laying next to the man you loved more than anything, your future husband, while exotic birds sang somewhere outside had you on cloud nine.

The first day you arrived, you had wandered around the villa in awe. There were three bedrooms, including the master, and each had its own ensuite bathroom. You realized right away your parents easily could have stayed with you, but you didn't say anything to Joel. Deep down, you appreciated the privacy, and you had a feeling Joel wanted the same. The way your parents acted any time you mentioned Joel or the wedding was really starting to gnaw at you, and resentment was burning brighter than you let on.

Granted, your relationship with your parents hadn't always been great. Growing up in their house had its challenges. You and your mother butt heads a lot and your father had a tendency to work as much as possible, creating a void between you during the most formative years in your life. It was around the time you announced you were moving to Los Angeles for college that you felt your relationship with them crumble even more. They absolutely hated the idea of you living in L.A. — preconceived notions of the city they read online had your mother convinced you would be homeless and your father thinking you would "fall into the wrong crowd". But once you graduated and got a job at a production company, you thought their minds would be put at ease, so you did your best to repair that relationship. As more time passed and the phone calls became shorter and more uncomfortable, you began to wonder if they had hoped you would fail just so you would have to move back home, proving them right.

All of that aside, getting engaged and moving in with Joel should have shown them how happy and successful you were. They should have been happy, too. Yet, they still held back, refusing to get to know Joel better or talk much about your engagement.

It was the only dark cloud over an otherwise amazing time in your life, so you were ultimately glad Joel decided to book them a villa in a different hotel instead of sharing a room. The last thing you wanted was for them to ruin the grand opening of The Parador with their negativity looming around every corner. Both you and Joel worked so hard on the hotel, you deserved to enjoy yourselves.

And enjoy yourselves, you did. It was your third day on the island and even Joel couldn't resist how spectacular it felt to be back in paradise. He looked so relaxed and happy that it was hard to remember you were technically there to work, with some wedding planning scheduled during the quieter parts of your days. But it didn't stop either of you from lounging by the pool or beach whenever you could with your phones and laptops while upbeat music played softly through the speakers surrounding the area. It surprised you at first, to see Joel so relaxed during a workday. It was a far cry from the way he behaved the last time you were in Fiji.

Another thing you certainly didn't recall him doing the last time you were there was having a cocktail or two with lunch. He had grown particularly fond of frozen drinks, something that always made you giggle when you saw him sipping around all the fruit and a fancy umbrella, shoulders shifting slightly in rhythm with the music.

"What?" he asked hazily from his lounge chair when he heard you. His sunglasses were perched on the tip of his nose and his lips were wrapped around the bright pink straw of his piña colada.

"Nothing. I'm just loving this side of you," you grinned. His laptop sat open at the end of his chair but right next to it was a book he had been reading, spread open and face down while he ate. "Can't wait to see more of this relaxed Joel on our honeymoon."

You could tell by the way his cheeks were slightly pink and the glassy look in his eye that he was just a little tipsy when his eyebrow arched at the topic of your honeymoon.

"'Bout that," he said, putting the fancy glass down next to him. "Have you decided where you wanna go?"

You shrugged and shook your head. "Maybe Italy? Or Costa Rica?"

"What 'bout Paris?" he asked before leaning back in his chair with a sigh.

"Maybe," you said, pursing your lips in thought. "Not many opportunities to see you in those swim trunks in Paris, though."

Joel grinned and turned his head to look at you over his sunglasses. "You like me on the beach, huh?"

You giggled, making his smile spread even wider.

"You do seem at home on the beach."

He pushed his sunglasses back up to the bridge of his nose and took another sip from his drink. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw his email program pop up with an alert in the corner of his laptop screen, but he didn't seem to give a shit. The sun felt so nice and it was indescribably peaceful, sitting in your own private garden-slash-patio while the waves crashed lightly against the sandy shore not too far away. The sound drew Joel's attention and he turned his head, watching the foamy crests splash down onto the smooth sand. Then, a thought occurred to him and he frowned.

He remembered a time from your first week on the island, back when he had hired you to pretend to be his fiancée. When you first met Glenn, you made up a story about how Joel proposed to you on the beach in Santa Monica. Later, when he asked if that's what you always wanted, you shrugged it off. I tried to think of the most romantic thing possible and it just popped into my head, you had said. Joel turned back to you and took off his sunglasses.

"Should I have proposed to you on the beach?"

Your head snapped up from your phone in surprise. "What?"

"That story you told Glenn, when we were—"

"No!" you exclaimed, sitting up in your chair. "I love how you proposed to me. Both times!" you added, holding up both hands and making him grin. "You could have proposed to me literally anywhere and I would have said yes. I already told you, Joel," you scooted closer and leaned forward to cup his face with both your hands. "I love you so much, I would marry you anywhere. All the rest of this... stuff—" you jutted your chin towards your phone, where you had been replying to an email from Nadia, "—it's just for fun. It doesn't really matter. This is all that matters."

You pressed your lips lightly to his, feeling him smile before leaning back and dropping your hands to your lap.

"Hopeless romantic," Joel teased, his dark eyes sparkling and playful. You just giggled and shook your head at the familiar accusation. When you picked your phone back up to finish your email, Joel groaned and suddenly jumped up from his chair.

"I fuckin' love this song," he announced before swaying his hips. He began to sing softly to himself as he shuffled around the edge of the pool, and it wasn't until he was further away that you heard the lyrics to Kokomo filtering through the speakers.

"C'mon, pretty mama," Joel called, swiveling around and holding out his arms for you. "Dance with me, baby," he added, smirking while slowly bobbing his shoulders and mouthing the words in your direction. You burst out laughing and shook your head.

"You're drunk!"

"I ain't drunk, I'm fuckin' happy!" Joel exclaimed loudly. His chin tilted towards the clear blue sky and closed his eyes while he continued to move from side to side around the patio. When he stumbled a bit, you laughed and tossed your phone on the table so you could join him.

"Be careful, you're going to trip," you scolded playfully, wrapping your arms around his bare torso and resting your chin on his warm, sun-kissed chest.

"Maybe I should get you another ring and propose on the beach," Joel murmured, gazing down at you. He was still swaying, pulling you with him as he spoke.

"Don't you fucking dare."

He laughed and his hands settled on your hips, tugging you close so you could move in sync with the music.

"Alright, fine," he relented, slowly spinning you both in a circle. "Least let's play this at the wedding."

"Kokomo? You want to dance to Kokomo in front of all your super rich buddies?"

"Yeah, what's wrong with it?" he asked with a little concerned crease between his brows. The earnest look on his face had you melting on the spot.

"Nothing," you said softly. You swiped your thumb over his frown, smoothing it out before stretching onto your tiptoes to kiss the corner of his mouth. "We can dance to Kokomo, I think it's perfect."

His lips captured yours before you could pull away, forcing you to sway back and forth on the balls of your feet with your chest against his. In the background, you could hear the final few lyrics of the song fade out, a new one starting right on its heels. It was a faster tempo, but Joel kept you both moving slow, your hips pressed together while his tongue pushed languidly into your mouth. He tasted sweet, like coconut and pineapple with just the faintest hint of rum.

You made a pleased little sound in the back of your throat when you felt him begin to harden through his swim trunks. Pulling back and grinning when he chased after your lips, you wrapped your arms around the back of his neck and asked, "Getting all hot and bothered, Mr. Miller?"

"Don't know what you're talkin' 'bout," he insisted, lips finding a home on your neck. "You're lookin' a little warm, though," he added, tilting his head and switching to the other side of your throat. Your eyelids fluttered when his teeth grazed your pulse point. "Maybe it's you who's feelin' hot?"

You swallowed tightly before answering.

"It's really hot," you whispered.

"What is?" Joel asked, lips puckering around your skin, leaving a trail of wet kisses in his wake.

"The s-sun," you stammered. Obviously. But both of you were beginning to forget what you were talking about.

Joel hummed and walked you backwards a step or two, his arms wrapped around you tightly, preventing you from tripping.

Or so you thought.

"I got just the thing for that."

"Huh?" you asked hazily with your eyes still closed and your fingers getting tangled in his hair. But before you even had a chance to scream, Joel twisted around, tightened his grip around your waist, and jumped backwards into the pool, pulling you down with him.

The water was heated but it was still a shock to the system. You screeched underwater and kicked away, propelling yourself out of his arms and to the surface for air. You gasped and snapped your eyes open, hair plastered to your face as you whipped back and forth until Joel emerged from the water, laughing and reaching for you again.

"Oh, I don't think so!" you exclaimed, and before he could get his hands on you, you kicked off the wall of the pool, giving yourself the advantage and swimming away.

Your fingers grazed the railing of the steps. You were so close, but then Joel's hand wrapped around your ankle, tugging you back across the water as you screamed and giggled until he had you flipped around, lifting you up so he could wrap his arms and legs around you, immobilizing you completely.

"Where y'goin', baby?" he breathed, "Don't it feel good?"

Panting, you gazed up at him through your wet lashes. He looked so genuinely happy and at ease, it took your breath away. You couldn't stop admiring him; the sparkle in his eye, the dimple in his cheek, his broad shoulders... but the way the sun glittered on his tanned skin made you finally stop struggling. When he felt your muscles relax, his grip loosened.

"What?" he finally asked when you took too long to speak. You smiled and shook your head, then pulled him tighter again.

"How'd I get so lucky?" you whispered softly. He rolled his eyes and shook his head, deflecting the compliment, so instead you circled your arms around his neck and leaned in for a kiss. Under the water, his hands reached down to cup your ass, pulling you snug against his hips while you deepened the kiss with a moan.

Your chest felt light, heart tapping excitedly against your sternum with each touch and kiss. It was impossible to keep the smile from your face. How could you, when you were having the time of your life in paradise with the man who you planned to spend the rest of your life with?

"Speaking of—" Joel said breathlessly when he broke away. He massaged you underwater, fingers greedily stretching so he could grab as much of your ass as possible. Your eyes followed a drop of water that trickled from his hair and down the side of his face and you licked your lips. "Am I 'bout to get lucky, or what?"

"Here?" you questioned, but he just smirked and nodded.

"Why not? No one can see us."

You bit your lip and glanced around, trying not to let his roaming hands and his hot mouth on your neck distract you. He was right - there weren't any other guests in the hotel but even if there had been, the gardens and natural fauna surrounding the patio were too thick to see through.

Joel nipped at your throat, teeth gently pinching your wet skin and you sighed, relaxing into his hold. "O-okay," you whispered.

"Atta girl," Joel chuckled before swinging you around in the pool so your back was pressed against the side. Fortunately, it was the side facing the ocean. There was no concrete lip behind you so as to mimic the water merging with the horizon. It allowed you to comfortably rest your weight on your elbows, which were perched on the smooth tile edge, and lean back so Joel could pull your bikini bottoms off.

Before you met, Joel would never have been caught dead blowing off work in the middle of the day. He practically worked around the clock, his only focus in life being his company and what he could do to become more successful. But now, his focus remained firmly planted on you. Even back home, it didn't matter how busy he was, in the back of his mind he always thought of you, finding comfort in knowing you were somewhere in the building and just a phone call away.

But having you within arms reach in the middle of paradise proved to be harder for him to resist than he thought.

Just as quickly as he shed you of your swimsuit, he was back with one hand pressing flat against your spine, pushing your bodies together while his mouth continued to suck on your neck. Underwater, your legs wrapped around his waist, the movement feeling like quicksand, but you weren't sure if it was the buoyancy or the desire coursing through your veins that had you feeling sluggish.

Joel's hand dropped between you, fingers quickly undoing the tie on his shorts so he could loosen them around his hips. Meanwhile, his mouth found yours again, kissing you with a deep groan when his tongue slipped past your lips.

The pad of his finger caught on your clit, making you whine as the familiar heat bloomed between your legs. Your hips rolled forward, chasing his hand, wordlessly asking for more. A sly smile pulled across his mouth and then he tore himself away, fingers still teasing featherlight strokes along your slit.

"I'll be right back," he said, pushing off the wall.

"Wh- what?" you stammered, eyelids fluttering. Joel took a deep breath then disappeared below the water and before you had a chance to process what was happening, his hands wrapped around your thighs and pulled you onto his mouth.

"Shit!" you cried out when you felt his hot tongue gliding through your lips. He ate at you messily underwater, knowing he would soon have to return for air left him unable to take his time and savor it like he normally would.

A flash of heat seared through you, a lightning bolt from the center of your legs that reached to every nerve ending in your body. Something about feeling weightless and having the ability to relax your muscles entirely while Joel alternated between fucking you with his tongue and sucking on your clit had you shaking in a matter of seconds.

When he tore himself away and crashed through the surface of the water with a frantic gasp for air, you had the audacity to pout. You whined his name and writhed against the side of the pool, causing him to smirk amidst catching his breath.

"What is it, baby?"

"You can't do that. That's teasing," you grumbled. He caught his lower lip between his teeth and grabbed your thighs underwater, spreading them apart roughly before growling, "Did I say I was done?"

He had about half a second to clock the delight in your face before he inhaled deeply and dove back under. His mouth seared against your pussy immediately, tongue probing and licking desperately until he needed more air.

It was a new sensation, being brought to the edge just to be pulled back when he needed to breathe. It had you clawing at his shoulders and murmuring filth in his ear every time he came up to recover, but you couldn't help yourself. Your ears were ringing and your body felt like every nerve ending was frayed whenever he tore his mouth away, but thankfully after being toyed with one too many times, his hand took the place of his mouth when he emerged.

"Fuck, look at you," he groaned, fingers working quickly under the water. Two thrusted inside you, curling and stretching while the heel of his palm massaged your clit. His free arm came to rest on the ledge behind you so his entire body ended up caging you in. When you peeled your eyes open, mouth agape and mind blurry, all you could see was Joel towering over you.

"Need you to come for me," he ground out through clenched teeth. "Need to fuck you, baby, c'mon, lemme see it."

Water splashed lightly near your shoulder from how fast Joel was working his wrist between your legs. It only took a few more slaps of his palm against your clit before your muscles tensed and your eyes rolled back with a low moan. Your hips rocked forward and you gasped as each wave of your climax shuddered through you, all the while crumbling under Joel's intense stare.

"That's it — feels good, huh?" Joel's lips found the underside of your jaw and began sucking lightly at your skin. "Pussy's so tight, squeezin' me so fuckin' good... that's it, you're alright, shh, so pretty like this. So fuckin' pretty—"

His mouth crashed over yours, silencing his ramblings and your moans until you relaxed and he slowly removed his fingers.

"Joel," you whimpered, chest heaving and heart racing. You reached for him, a trembling hand searching for him under the water, needing him just as badly as you needed oxygen in your lungs.

One leg hooked around his waist and a hand cupped the back of his neck. You felt delirious; lost entirely to the feeling only Joel was able to create. Everything about him, you loved. You loved how he knew you so well, in every way imaginable. You loved how he took care of you, protected you, worshiped you. All of those reasons and more told you he was the man you should spend the rest of your life with.

And if that wasn't enough, he somehow always managed to drag the most intense pleasure from you. He knew what you needed without you having to ask, undoing you every single time.

"Sure you're ready?" Joel breathed shakily, but he was already lining himself up, chin tucked into his chest, eyes peering through the water. You nodded and swallowed, fingers tightening around the back of his neck.

You felt him there, swollen tip resting against your opening, and you held your breath. Both of his hands held your hips steady, keeping you in place, and then his eyes flickered up to yours. All you saw reflected back was utter devotion when he pushed inside, each of you gasping in unison. You refused to look away, his dark eyes too magnetic, as his hands pulled you down onto his cock, nice and slow. He held your gaze until your hips sat flushed with his and he released you in favor of cupping your face. His mouth slanted over yours, nipping desperately at your lower lip while you fluttered and pulsed around him.

"How's that, huh?" His hips shifted, stretching you open and reaching the furthest depths of you. Your back arched off the side of the pool, gasping into his mouth.

"Fuck," you whined around the messy kisses Joel was peppering against your lips.

"Feel all of me in there?" He rolled his hips deliberately, touching lightly against a spot that had you grappling feverishly at the slippery curls on the back of his head.

"Fuck," you cursed again, "yeah. More, Joel, please."

"Yeah? Think you can handle it?" he asked, his mouth dropping to your chin, then your jaw. "Think this perfect fuckin' pussy can take it?"

You couldn't answer. All you could do was whimper pathetically, each snap of his hips driving the air straight from your lungs. But he didn't mind, because he was already too lost in the feel of you to demand an answer.

"You got no idea—" Joel grunted, slowing his hips when he felt himself nearing his peak too soon. He shifted his weight, wrapped an arm around the curve of your back under the water, and took a moment to catch his breath. "—you got no idea how fuckin' crazy you make me," he finished, staring deep into your eyes.

Your leg tightened around his waist and you leaned forward, grazing your teeth lightly over his throat when you said, "Crazy enough to fuck me in a pool on a Wednesday afternoon."

Joel growled, the sound vibrating against your lips. "You like this, don't you? You like gettin' me so hard 'n worked up, I can barely think."

You thought you managed to whisper out a yes, but you couldn't be sure because a second later, Joel was pounding into you again. Water splashed up, dotting both your faces and lips with little droplets. One strong arm pinned you roughly to his chest, and the other protected the back of your head from the tile, completely immobilizing you. Your open mouths hovered inches apart, leaving just enough room for your shared grunts and moans to escape, each devastating thrust bringing you both closer to the edge.

"Oh, f-fuck," you stammered, body jolting violently in his grip from the force of his hips slamming into you. His jaw tightened, brow furrowing as he fought back his own climax. You were close, he could feel it. He just needed to give you a little more.

"Don't stop," you begged, and Joel shook his head, stomach tensing with the need to let go. A strangled noise made its way past your lips and you feverishly clutched the sides of his head. "Kiss me," you pleaded.

His mouth crashed against yours, tongue sliding past your lips, and all the while he maintained that same, steady pace underwater. There was a moment where he thought he might not be able to hold back any longer, but then he felt your body go rigid and a broken version of his name tumbled into his mouth. A second later, the sweet feeling of relief flooded his veins as he came, pumping you full of his seed while you both rode out the rest of your highs together.

Joel broke the kiss with a sharp gasp, then buried his face in the crook of your neck so he could catch his breath. Your fingers combed lovingly through his hair and you closed your eyes, basking in the sun and the afterglow of your orgasm with Joel still buried deep between your legs. His arms remained wrapped around you, as well, keeping you so close that your chests bumped together with every shaky breath. After several quiet minutes, Joel whispered your name, his soft way of checking in.

You swallowed, throat hoarse and dry. "Say it," you mumbled drowsily. You felt his lips twitch against your neck.

"I love you."

A slow smile stretched across your face and you sighed.

"I love you, too."

The drive to Glenn and Mary's mansion brought back so many memories. Nerves, excitement, and anticipation filled you the first time, hoping you would do a good job at selling your fake engagement so Joel would appear relatable to Glenn and therefore make him look like the best choice to purchase the land for the hotel. Then afterwards, uneasiness and pangs of jealousy once you found out that Joel used to carry on an affair with another hotel mogul's wife, Tammy.

This time was different. Now, you were legitimately Joel's fiancée and madly in love. No more secrets, no more feelings of betrayal. You couldn't have been any happier.

"I'm looking forward to seeing them again," you told Joel. He sat next to you in the backseat of the town car, your left hand engulfed by his across the middle seat. His thumb distractedly played with the huge diamond on your ring finger and he smiled.

"Should be nice. Just them, Trevor and Zoe," he recapped.

Zoe. You were so excited to see your old friend, a port in the storm the last time you were on the island. She was young, beautiful, carefree and a former sugarbaby. While you hid that part of your history from everyone — with the exception of Joel's trusted assistant, Liam — Zoe had told you her secret in confidence early on in your trip. As much as you wanted to share with her your own background, you knew how detrimental it would be to Joel, so you kept your mouth shut. Still, Zoe turned out to be an incredible friend. She was there the night Brooks — Glenn and Mary's son —assaulted you in a restaurant bathroom. She took care of you until Joel arrived that night. She also had your back when Tammy and Lynne accused you of being a gold digger during a dinner party towards the end of your trip.

Needless to say, after the trip ended, you remained close friends. You were thrilled to find out she quit being a sugarbaby and found herself a boyfriend... none other than Glenn and Mary's other son, Trevor. Who actually didn't turn out to be that bad, compared to his brother.

"Much better group than last time," you said, squeezing Joel's hand.

He smirked and rolled his eyes, knowing full well you were referring to Tammy and her little sidekick, Lynne.

"Easy," he teased.

Glenn and Mary lived right on the beach in a stunning Mediterranean-style house which was surrounded by exotic plants and meticulously maintained gardens, a home that still took your breath away whenever you saw it.

When your car pulled up, you could see all the lights on inside, and when the chauffeur opened your door and you stepped out, you could hear the soft sounds of music echoing from the backyard.

"They must be on the patio," you said to Joel, looping your hand through his arm and allowing him to lead you to the front door.

"They do love their view," he murmured.

A man you didn't recognize but who appeared to be part of the catering service opened the door for you with the offer of champagne. You each took a flute before heading through the familiar, grandiose foyer. The kitchen and dining areas were silent except for the staff furiously working away. Your gaze drifted to look through the glass that lead out to their gorgeous pool area, spotting four familiar faces smiling and laughing around the outdoor bar. When Zoe turned her head and locked eyes with you through the windows, her face lit up. Yours must have done the same because you immediately dropped Joel's arm and squealed excitedly.

Hurrying outside, you ran to meet Zoe halfway, then threw your arms around each other's necks, swaying back and forth and murmuring compliments in the other's ear while trying to simultaneously not spill your drinks.

"Your hair! It's so long!" you gushed when you pulled away. Your fingers idly slid down her shiny locks with a smile so wide, your cheeks hurt. "And this dress! Oh my god—"

"You should talk! You're practically glowing!" Zoe beamed right back before snatching your right hand to hold it up to the dim garden lighting. "Or is it this massive fucking rock?"

She whispered the last part so none of the others heard. They had come forward to greet Joel while you and Zoe got reacquainted, fortunately buying you an extra minute to come up with some excuse as to why you had two engagement rings.

"Oh, this?" you laughed, stretching your fingers out so you could both admire it. "Joel thought he owed me another one since it's taken us so long to get married."

"Goddamn, Joel. You are one smart man," Glenn bellowed behind you. You swiveled around with a huge grin so you could give Glenn, Mary, and Trevor each a warm hug. When you were about to step away, Mary tsked and held out her hand, so you placed your right palm in hers while they got a good look at your new ring.

"Felt bad that storm set construction back a few weeks," Joel explained, quickly rolling with your story. He curled an arm around your waist when everyone was done admiring your ring, tucking you into his side. "Caused a headache with the wedding planner. Y'know how it is."

"I always told you — happy wife, happy life," Glenn chuckled before waving everyone over to the appetizers, which had just been set out near the bar. "C'mon, dig in. Then I wanna hear all about the soft open."

Joel opened his mouth to reply when a man's familiar sounding drawl rang out behind you.

"Oh, well, what do you know? We just came from there, I can tell you all about it."

Your body reacted before your brain had a chance to figure out what was happening. The hairs on your arms stood up and your heart felt like it was lodged in your throat.

You knew that voice.

"Scott! Didn't think you were comin' in til later!" Glenn called out cheerily. Zoe's hand found your forearm and she gave it a reassuring squeeze. Then, Joel murmured something in your ear but your blood was pumping so fast and loud, you couldn't hear him. Because if Scott was there, that meant...

"Tammy!" Mary sang, raising her arms above her head with a sweet smile. She didn't notice your reaction, neither did Glenn. They were too busy giving them both hugs and murmuring something to them about the weather.

Joel tried to get your attention again but you felt frozen in place. Zoe released your arm, whispered breathe in your ear, then followed Trevor over to greet them next.

"C'mon, let's just get through this," Joel urged, and you blinked before snapping your head to look at him.

"Did you—"

"No."

You exhaled in relief. It was a surprise, Joel didn't know they were coming. Still...

"Get over here, you son of a bitch," Scott laughed, tapping Joel on his shoulder. He let you go and plastered a polite smile across his face before giving him a hug. He hesitated for half a second, then gave Tammy a quick kiss on the cheek. You knew he had to do it. It would have looked weird if he didn't. But it still had your claws coming out, so you tucked your hand behind your back, squeezing your fingers into a tight fist to release some anger.

Tammy's eyes landed on you and she gave you a fake smile, murmured your name, and stiffly leaned forward to kiss you on the cheek. It took everything in your power to move, to press your cheek against hers, to say nice to see you and act like either of you meant it.

You broke apart quickly, each of you avoiding eye contact and retreating back to your partners. Joel wrapped an arm around your waist, his fingers pressed into your hip, wordlessly trying to soothe you, to tell you it was okay. With your cheeks hot, you caught Zoe's eye. She looked just as taken aback as you.

"Did you, uh, say you were at The Parador?" Joel asked. He sounded guarded, like he was bracing for something. He must have already connected the dots and for some reason, you were lagging, because Scott nodded and announced the obvious.

"We were lucky enough to get one of the rooms for the soft open." Scott tossed Joel a grin while lacing his fingers together with his wife's. "Don't worry. We won't be too harsh in our review. Right, honey?" he joked.

Scott looked down at Tammy who batted her lashes and nodded.

"That's right. We know there's bumps to iron out when a new location opens up. We understand the business."

Scott owned his own chain of hotels and was in contention to win the plot of land Joel ended up getting on the island, so they were no stranger to the hospitality industry. But as nice as Scott was, at the end of the day, Joel was a competitor and he won something Scott couldn't have. It had your gut twisting nervously by Joel's side.

"Well, if somethin' doesn't meet your standards, you let me know immediately," Joel responded. You had to give him credit, he was handling the turn of events much better than you were, but something told you he would be expressing his true thoughts on the matter in the car later.

The only saving grace all evening happened when Scott and Tammy chose to sit at the opposite end of the table from you and Joel. It afforded you a chance to get your bearings and breathe.

"I didn't know," Zoe whispered before you could even ask. "I heard they had a layover on their way to Australia, but I didn't think they'd be stopping here."

"It's fine," you mumbled, picking at the fish on your plate. "Maybe they're just saying long enough to see Glenn and Mary."

You were wrong.

By the time your plates were cleared and dessert was being served, the topic of Scott and Tammy's unexpected arrival finally came up.

"Australia? What's taking the two of you there?" Mary asked. Candlelight that decorated the table flickered across her face, making her dark hair shimmer. She was beautiful and always very sweet. Even after your altercation with Brooks, both she and Glenn stood by your side and made the difficult decision to send their son off to rehab on a neighboring island. You were grateful for their kindness and generosity towards you during your last stay, but you had to admit, you were envious of how absolutely clueless she and her husband were about the dynamics at their table. You couldn't be certain about Trevor, but considering Zoe knew all the drama with Tammy, you had to assume the only people at the table who were in the dark were Glenn, Mary and Scott.

"Thought we'd take some time off down uhnda," Scott laughed, "Figured we deserved a little break. Hotels have been doing great but it's cost me a lot of late nights. So, we planned a little trip, just the two of us. But when we realized The Parador was about to have its grand open? Well," he breathed, locking eyes with Joel. "Couldn't miss that, now could we?"

"The boys were beside themselves but I told them when they graduate college, we'll consider taking them somewhere of their choosing," Tammy cooed, swirling her crystal wine glass in her hand. "That is, if their grades reflect the hard work they claim they're putting in."

"You sure you ain't lookin' to expand in Australia?" Glenn asked coyly. Scott gave him a sly smirk and shrugged.

"Who's to say."

Tammy scoffed and playfully swat at his shoulder. "No business, you promised!"

While the men laughed, you and Zoe exchanged glances and focused on your plates. Scott, to your knowledge, never knew Tammy had an affair with Joel all those years ago. So to watch them act so sickeningly sweet and in love irked you both. Especially when Joel confessed to you that Tammy had developed strong feelings for him during their tryst.

"When do your parents get in?" Zoe asked softly, but Mary overheard anyway and perked up.

"Oh! Your parents? That's lovely! They must be coming to help you plan the wedding!"

You nodded, feeling your cheeks warm when the entire table dragged their focus onto you.

"Yes, they arrive late tonight, actually," you responded. "They'll help a bit, but they aren't the type to take vacations, well... ever, really. So it was Joel's idea to get them out here and relax for once."

Joel smiled and his hand found yours underneath the table. He gave you a gentle squeeze, soothing your frayed nerves.

"Well, that's thoughtful. We all oughta go out to dinner before they leave," Glenn suggested. You swallowed tightly and nodded before Zoe swooped in.

"Mary! I forgot to tell you... we went to that new restaurant the other day."

"Ocean Terrace? How was it?"

And just like that, the attention shifted to Zoe and Trevor as they told the table about a horrendous dining experience.

"Dinner's almost over," Joel assured you quietly. You met his gaze, his dark eyes glittering in the dim lighting making your chest tighten with affection. "We'll make up some excuse not to get dinner with 'em again, don't worry."

You let out a shaky breath and nodded. You could do this. Besides, what could Tammy possibly do that hasn't already been done? She was a mood killer at that point and nothing more.

Your shoulders relaxed after your plates were cleared and people began to stand. Scott mentioned something about jet lag and Joel made an exaggerated yawn before making a comment about having an early meeting.

Zoe pulled you in for a hug and murmured in your ear about getting lunch. You told her you wanted to spend some time with your parents the next day, but promised to text her and set something up after. Then you gave Trevor a quick hug, which resulted in an avalanche of farewells and polite pecks on cheeks.

Joel was leading you through the house, back the way you came. Every step made you breathe a little easier until Glenn suddenly jogged up behind you.

"Joel? You got a quick minute?"

Joel's eyes flickered between yours and Glenn's, confusion etching his face before he nodded and let go of your hand.

"I'll meet you in the car."

You didn't think anything of it. Figured it was business related; that maybe Glenn wanted to book a few villas for friends or maybe host an event in one of the ballrooms. You took out your phone after you settled into your seat and opened a text from your mother, letting you know they safely landed and that they were checking into their hotel. You tapped out a quick response, telling her you would call them the next day and advised them to get some rest when Joel slipped into the backseat. His lips were pressed into a thin line and his brows pulled tight. You quickly dropped your phone back into your purse when you sensed the tension rolling off his shoulders.

"What's wrong?"

He didn't answer right away. Instead, his hand found the button for the partition. You could hear the little motor whirring as it slowly closed, giving you privacy from the driver as he drove down the empty streets, back to The Parador.

Even in the dim ambient lighting from the ceiling, you could read Joel's face. He was pissed.

"Joel?" you tried again. His jaw tensed and your eyes dropped to his knee, which was bouncing anxiously as he mulled over whatever Glenn had just said. Then finally, he forced his gaze onto you and your stomach dropped when he said, "Brooks is outta rehab. Been back on the island for a week, and—" he bit the inside of his cheek before huffing in disbelief and shaking his head. "—and he wants to see you. Says he's got somethin' important he wants to say. Glenn thinks he plans to apologize. Make amends or some shit. Part of some program..." he trailed off and pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh while you remained frozen, unable to tear your eyes away from the cut of Joel's jaw.

"What?" you whispered. Joel heard the tremor in your voice. He quickly turned his focus back onto you, taking your hand in both of his and drawing soothing circles on your knuckles with the pad of his thumb.

"It's fine. He ain't comin' anywhere near you, y'hear me?"

You nodded because it was all you could manage to do. Your throat was too tight to speak. This was all too much—

"I don't care what they say. He's their kid, 'course they're gonna believe him when he says he ain't using," Joel muttered. You cleared your throat and took a breath.

"Well... maybe he is—"

"Ain't up for discussion," Joel said coldly, cutting you off. Goosebumps flashed across your skin at his tone. "If it's that important, he can call or write a letter or some shit. He ain't ever gonna lay a hand on you again."

You nodded and clamped your mouth shut. It wasn't often Joel put his foot down, and considering what happened last time, he had every right to be suspicious and on edge. Besides — you weren't interested in seeing him. Only just morbidly curious.

The rest of the drive was quiet. He kept your hand on his leg, his warm palm pressing comfortingly against yours while you both stared out your respective windows, lost in thought.

Foolishly, you thought it was over; that the universe had thrown you enough curveballs for one night.

When Joel swung the door open to your villa, the room was dark. He stepped inside and began to flick on all the lights, leaving you to close and lock the door behind you. Somewhere in the master bedroom, you heard the curtains closing, but your gaze had fallen to a crisp white envelope under your shoe. You frowned, eyes darting from the envelope to the door, then leaned down to pick it up.

You flipped it over in your hands: it was sealed and not addressed to anybody.

"I'm gonna shower," Joel called from the bathroom.

"Okay," you answered distractedly. You heard the water turn on as you wandered into the kitchen, studying the envelope while trying to remember if Joel had mentioned he was expecting anything.

Curiosity eventually got the best of you and you ripped it open. Inside was just one white piece of common printer paper with four simple words staining the page, yet those four words made your blood run cold and dread settle over you like a blanket of snow:

I know your secret.

Please follow @punkshort-notifs and turn on notifications for fic updates ❤️

[i-am-a-bad-influence-writes]

P*rn ☆  Introduction

Masterlist Word count: 1 k Sylus x Fem!Reader

Summary: You have been following a spicy content creator by the name of Red Crow for some time now. Nothing could’ve prepared you for what would happen when he moves into the apartment next door.

Warning! This story is meant for mature audiences. It contains sex, swear words, porn, smoking, intimate piercings, mentions of drugs, and other mature themes. Do not engage if you are under 18.

Mature content under the cut. This part is setup. No graphic content yet.

∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘ 

It's been fucking years! Not by your choice. No, not at all. You just hadn't had the time or the energy, but God do you crave it. It hadn't really bothered you the first year. You had gone on dates regularly, but despite your love for intimacy you need a certain level of connection before you lay down and take it. Sure, you had a few nice connections but no one that managed to turn you on. 

Not like he does. 

Ever since your regular booty call called it off, you started watching some adult content. At first nothing really seemed to call to you. You were flipflopping from category to category as if you were flipping through a magazine, leaving you high and dancing on the edge of full gratification every single time. Sure, you came but it never felt that great. 

Then you found him. 

Tall as a fucking mountain, grey hair, red eyes, sly smile, toned body, strong nose that's ever so slightly crooked. You even remember the little scar under his left eye. But what does it for you, most of all, is his voice. Low and gravely, constantly teasing and commanding. There's something more to it though. When he gets to the edge, it's almost as if he wants someone to take over and it fucking gets you going. Makes your panties go from bone dry to soaking wet in a matter of seconds. 

Worst of all, the man has a TikTok page and a Tumblr page. Neither are all that suggestive. The TikTok has some thirst traps and workout videos, but the Tumblr page is a different story. On there, he reads spicy romance books to his audience. He had tried it before on YouTube but got taken down real fast. Those books, the way his voice picks up and changes with the story. It's truly something magical. You'd almost consider it better content than the videos of him stroking his dick, though you don't mind that those exist at all. 

And today is Friday, which means he's posting a new chapter and there's a possibility of a new video on TikTok. Nothing too riveting but enough to get you going and keep you going for the weekend. You're looking at a long and satisfying weekend with your magic wand. Just one more hour until your shift is done. 

∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘ 

'Again?!' Sylus’ voice booms through the living room of his apartment. If it were any louder, the walls would shiver. 'I was so fucking careful this time,' he says through gritted teeth. His hand has a strong grasp on his phone, almost snapping the thing in his fit of rage. 

"I don't know what to tell you man. Maybe someone followed you?" Kieran, the ever daft creator that makes spicy content with his friend Luke, tells him in the kindest voice he can must up. He knows just as well as Sylus that the man is impossibly popular. It all happened overnight just a year or two ago when he made a video humping a pillow and groaning praises to a nonexistant partner. Ever since then, he's been making content solo. It's doing much better than his partnered stuff used to.  

It also came with unwanted attention. Sylus lives for the praises and truly feral comments on his socials and spicy content, but this. This goes too far. It's the third time in as many years he's been doxed. If it were a stalked he could go to the police but it seems to be someone different each time. 

Sylus groans and runs a hand through his hair. 'I should move further away this time.' 

"That's the understatement of the century. Just be glad they haven't got your name yet." 

Yet. The word rings in Sylus’ head for a little longer than he would like it to. If those feral women and men got his name, he would never get any peace again. Sure, he was the one that decided to put his face in all those videos and that might've been stupid. It is stupid. Especially for someone who likes his privacy as much as Sylus does. 

"Oh, Luke just said he knows a place for you. He has a friend who owns an apartment ages away from your place. He's been looking for someone to lease it to." 

'I can trust this person?' 

"Yes, for sure. I know this guy too. He's some flamboyant artist that owns too many properties to keep track of who lives where." Sylus sighs, a rumble going through his chest. 

'Fine, get me the contact info.' 

∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘ 

'You doing anything fun this weekend,' your friend and colleague Tara asks with a sweet smile. You almost spill and tell her, but she's far too pure to understand any of your desires. It'd be better to keep this friendship as wholesome as it is. 

'Nothing much. I don't have any plans for once. I'm probably going to binge that TV show you recommended.' 

'Oooh, tell me what you think about it,' she replies excitedly. At that moment, a car honks, and she looks up. Her lovely boyfriend is waiting for her in the car. 'See you soon,' she says with a quick wave and off she goes. The man even gets out of the car to open the passenger door for her. Such a nice man. He waves to you and you nod back. You know him a little, but he never comes along to any company events or dinners. If you're not mistaken, his name is Kieran. Nice guy. 

You make your way to your car and drive home. Traffic is terrible but uneventful. All you can think about is sitting down on the couch at home and listening to whatever Red Crow has cooked up this time. 

Next

[skay-ali]

The Forgotten Daughter

Chapter 1

You still clearly remember when you arrived at your new home  It was the biggest house you had been able to see in your short life.

When you got a better look, you felt a great sadness emanating from the outer walls, each space filled with a lifeless neutral color.

The owner of all the hallways, floors and valuable things, he was also a spitting image of melancholic, that was what you wanted to believe for a long time, that your new father was so damaged, that he couldn't afford to fix anyone else, besides him.

You took refuge in your room, the first days were full of tears and great sadness, you had not only lost your dear mother, but also your home, you ended up in an unknown place, with unknown people, you were miserably alone.  

Recovering a little from your depressed and lifeless state, you decided to seek comfort, whatever you could get, it didn't take a hug or sympathetic words, not even a minute of attention, just an empathetic look, a pat or some miserable affection.

Alfred, the butler, was the one who was in charge of taking care of you, he tried to give you the affection you needed, he was a father, while your real father continued to behave like an adult with no responsibilities at home, he was a sought-after bachelor with no children.

Seeing him and a new woman passing through the hallways hurt you a lot, not because of jealousy, you thanked all the divinities that your mother never stayed with your father, but rather because those women received more love and attention than the one you you had when you arrived at this house, of course they were only small one-night stands or fleeting relationships, but they still had your father's attention.

Some time passed, your father brought a boy, upon returning from one of his outings, you knew his secret that he was a superhero, you knew it from the day you saw him injured in the dining room chair while you were leaving with a tray of cookies you made with Alfred for their movie night. The point was that you never went out with your father, not even when he was in his role as a millionaire.

You thought that new boy was just your father's whim, to help someone in trouble, but he became your new brother, was that his way of helping?  

You tried to establish a friendly relationship with the boy, your new brother Dick Wayne, but he was so focused on his pain and hatred that he didn't even look at you at first, but with a little perseverance, you became his rock of support in his lowest moments together with Alfred, it's a shame that in trying to find his new path he left you behind.

Unlike you, your father did pay attention to him and looked at him, he was his son.  

He did the same with his next two adopted children, Jason, the brother you were able to get along with the most, he told you a lot about the adventures he had or the books he finished reading, he was like a little child next to you. Until he died. It was sad, not seeing him anymore. It depressed you for a long time.

After Jason, Tim followed, he was a very closed child with you, he didn't give you an ounce of his attention, just an unfriendly face.

You only had these little descriptions of your siblings, not that you knew much about them, you never dug deep into their past, you tried to be a good big sister. 

When the third child arrived you had already graduated and managed to enter a university very far away from Gotham City.

You packed your bags, said goodbye to the only person who was your family in this house and went to form your new life.

You didn't expect that a few years later, while you were preparing dinner with one of your best friends, he would tell you that you have a person at the door looking for you. 

 Less see a child who was the same carbon copy of your father.

"Well... What brings you here?"

The boy's raised eyebrow told you how bad you were starting the conversation, but in your defense you didn't know what to do, you were full of nerves, leaving the boy outside your house was not an option, it was at night and it was dangerous.

"I am Damian Wayne, the first blood son of Bruce Wayne, a true Wayne" what great arrogance this boy possessed.

"I came to this place to look for the first girl my father adopted"

"You know we are half-brothers from what I understand your speech." 

His look full of anger and indignation showed that he did not like your words.

"YOU…"

He was ready to get up when some whimpers stopped him.

"Excuse me for a moment if" you left the room and ran to the cause of the whining.

Damian was regretting having come to this place just with the goal of meeting a girl, Alfred had made her sound like someone great, but seeing her for the first time disappointed him, you weren't even half as good as his other brothers, that It meant you couldn't even reach his heels. But still there was something that stopped him from leaving when he saw you, your kind way of receiving him, how you treated him as kindly as possible without you knowing him.

He got very angry when you named him an equal, his half-sister, he didn't like that title, he was ready to start a fight and teach you a lesson, but some whining stopped him from continuing.

Seeing you return to the living room with a baby in your arms baffled him, maybe you had a son.

He watched you sit down, you rocked the baby lovingly and you hummed a song to him.

"This is Alice, she's my little princess" you smiled as you showed her to the boy.

If your little adventure with the stranger who joked about being a hero ended with the origin of your cute baby, you became a new version of your mother.

Your new half-brother focused a lot on watching the girl.

"Now, as I understand it, you were looking for me because you wanted to meet me, right?"  

"No, of course not, I just wanted to know who the girl Alfred always talked about was."

"It's not the same as what I said"

It seems that you provoked the boy, when you saw him go towards the door.

"Hey why don't you stay to eat" you stopped the boy, if you weren't already over this family.    

You got up with your baby and carefully placed her in the child's arms.

"Here, load it up, I'll put the plates for dinner."

  You went to the kitchen and the boy quickly followed you with the baby.

"I'm not your babysitter to take care of your daughter," he complained.

"No, of course you're not her babysitter, you're her dear uncle" I smiled at how adorable they looked "Look, it seems like she adores you, she almost never likes to leave my side and cries when someone else picks her up."

There were a few more complaints from the boy, but you saw that your words made him proud and made him play with the baby in his arms.

If the yandere family has not yet appeared, it will first start from the smallest, the indirect cause that all the others are yanderes, maybe??? an attempted introduction to what ___'s life was like in the mansion and his relationship with his first 3 brothers and a comforting scene with one of the brothers. I hope you like this attempt at a story, I'm still thinking of more ideas for drama and anguish and who could be the baby's father and new yandere

@kore-of-the-underworld @vanessa-boo @jsprien213

[glorfindel-of-imladris]

I've mentioned this in passing in this post, but this is hands down my favourite line in The Fellowship of the Ring. The line speaks volumes about Glorfindel, and yet the details are easily missed by a first-time reader travelling along with Frodo and friends, and that's because not once does Glorfindel explain how significant his words and actions were. Yet there is so much to unpack! It is only left to us to appreciate them after learning more about this world.

“There are few even in Rivendell that can ride openly against the Nine…”

Again, Glorfindel only mentioned this in passing and did not explain, but the reason for this is because the only ones Rivendell would send to ride openly against the Nazgûl were special members of the Eldar: the Calaquendi, old Elves from Valinor and who have seen the light of the Two Trees. Gandalf later explains that these Elves “live at once in both worlds, and against both the Seen and Unseen they have great power”. The Nazgûl, as we learn, were wraiths that reside only in the Unseen world, and so to anyone else, they were invisible.

We know there were very few Calaquendi remaining in Middle-earth by the Third Age, and most of them reside in Rivendell. But even among them, likely only the warriors could be sent to go after the Nagzûl, chief of Sauron's servants. This early, we get a clue that Frodo and company have met someone extraordinary.

“It was my lot to take the Road…”

By “Road”, Glorfindel meant The Great East-West Road, an ancient road that cuts across Eriador from the Grey Havens to Rivendell and the Misty Mountains. This would have been the most perilous of the roads because it would have been the most obvious path passing through the Shire. Later, during the Council of Elrond, it would be mentioned that Sauron would be expecting the Ring to go from the Shire either to the Grey Havens or to Rivendell, both routes reached primarily via the Road.

It was to be expected therefore that this is the one path most guarded by the Enemy. Again, Glorfindel only mentions his task securing the Road in passing, but the fact that he got the most obvious and thus most perilous path speaks volumes of his ability and position in Rivendell. Only a few deemed able to ride openly against the Nine were sent out, and out of them, Glorfindel was the one sent to secure the most dangerous route. What ability and skill must this Elf have to be entrusted with such a task!

"I came to the Bridge of Mitheithel, and left a token there, nigh on seven days ago."

The Bridge of Mitheitel, or The Last Bridge, is the only way to cross the great River Hoarwell (Mitheitel) from Weathertop to Rivendell. Aragorn, as much as he could, avoided the Road, himself knowing the dangers possibly waiting for them there. Later though he tells the Hobbits, "I am afraid we must go back to the Road here for a while, [for we] have now come to the River Hoarwell... There is no way over it below its sources in the Ettenmoors, except by the Last Bridge on which the Road crosses."

Aragorn and the Hobbits therefore went to the Bridge dreading to encounter the Nazgûl, only to find it safe. Instead, Aragorn finds an elf-stone in the middle of the bridge, which gives him hope. We now learn that it was Glorfindel who left it there, for he has secured the Bridge, likely knowing how important it was to do so because unlike all other paths, this was the one path that Frodo and company would inevitably need to take. If the Enemy wanted to lay an ambush, they would have done so at the Bridge; strategically Glorfindel understood this, and coming after them at the Bridge was exactly what the company needed from him for them to stay safe.

“Three of the servants of Sauron were upon the Bridge, but they withdrew and I pursued them westward. I came also upon two others, but they turned away southward.”

Here once again is Glorfindel describing something incredible in the simplest of ways: the Nazgûl actually flee from him! Thus far in the book, the Nazgûl were the first source of terror for Frodo's company as well as for us, the readers, yet here Glorfindel was riding about with bells on his horse, not even trying to hide at all. He is the one hunting the Nazgûl and not the other way around, this was made very clear.

Glorfindel has been my favourite character from the start. He got me from their first meeting because he gave the Hobbits a sense of safety, even though they and we perhaps do not yet fully appreciate who he was and what he was capable of. As we read through the rest of the books, and even beyond through The Silmarillion, The Fall of Gondolin, The Peoples of Middle-earth and all these other books that share his history, I only learned to love him all the more. Years later, having read all these other books, I still sometimes just sit in awe thinking back on this first encounter in this first book, in the Fellowship of the Ring, about how Frodo and his friends met this seemingly humble Elf, who in actuality was literally an Elf of legend. Yet apparently one would not think it, encountering Glorfindel on the road.

[sorryitsmyfirstdayonearth]

Hear me out...

Yknow in season 2 ep 1 dean is a Disembodied spirit. I was thinking about him still being able to touch you and leave feint whispers in your ear.

Do you see where I'm going with this👁👁

Okay, I'm gonna try this short fic, drabble-y (it's not gonna be a drabble, it' gonna be more words cause I can't shut up) thing, because I CANNOT be getting distracted with full length fics, but I do crave the dopamine hit of finishing something and this ask is just too cute. Thank you, anon!!

═ The Swayze method ═

CWs: Dean getting ghost-y, dubious touching but everyone's into it. 18+ , 1.2k words

Well, Dean thinks, sighing as he watches another stranger walk through him without so much as looking up. At least it's not that fear illness again, or him turning into a senior citizen.

But this? This is only third on the list of shit things to happen to him in the last few years.

He sighs, turns back around, just in time to watch Sam walk out of the grocery store, arms laden with what he's pretty sure is some turnips and everything-but-the-bagel seasoning, or ingredients for a spell. Watches him run to the car, looking over his shoulder, like he's buying weed for the first time.

He knows his baby brother is on the way back to his physical body. Because whatever Dean is wearing right now - it's not corporeal. Hence the strangers walking through him. Hence his brother sprinting past him like Big Bird without throwing him a single look.

From what he can tell, Sam hasn't called you. Which is fine, cause his brother seems to have it figured out, so there's no point in worrying you. Dean prefers you to be un-worried as well. He knows he gets your heart rate up often enough when he goes out on cases. So the fact that he got zapped by some witch... Well. You don't need to know if it's all gonna be fine again soon.

He can't get in the car. He tried when Sam drove over from the woods next to town, and he simply fell through the floor of it, straight on his ass. He's not about to try that again. He looks around. A dog walks through him, then takes a piss near his shoes. Great.

The motel's not far. There's no point in walking back to Sam and his own body, cause he's probably gonna be sucked back there anyway when the spell is broken. But the motel's right around the corner. And that's where you are.

It's not weird, he tells himself as he starts walking. He's not gonna do anything creepy. He just wants to see you, check on you. You hugged him close when he rolled out of bed this morning and he had to tear himself away, even though he really didn't want to. He just gets to hang out with you a little. Even if you won't be aware of it.

Okay. Maybe it's a little creepy.

He makes it to the room without having been zapped back. Finds the door to your and his room. He thinks about knocking, then remembers he can't. So he just phases through the wood.

You're on the bed, on your back, book in hand. A soft drink from the machine on the night stand. Dean stands at the other end of the room, and he can't help but grin. You're just too damn cute.

Just then you scoot lover on the bed, change your book to one hand. It's one of those chewed up paperbacks you constantly pick up everywhere. The ones you make Dean smell, because you say the pages smell great. He indulges you. Again, you're very cute.

Your free arm goes over your stomach and you absentmindedly run your fingers over the skin that's uncovered by your shirt riding up a little. Dean can't help his grin widening, his non-existent tongue going out to wet his non-existent lips.

He steps closer, sort of saunters over to you the way he would if he had a body, because that's a hard habit to break. He stands over you, and just cause you're right there, with that itty bitty bit of skin showing, he runs his fingers over that part.

You press your torso up a little. It could just be you readjusting, but Dean sees the little smile on your face. He narrows his eyes. And does it again.

You hum and then, and his eyebrows go up and mouth drops open at that, bite your bottom lip. Which is pretty much catnip to him.

"Oh, baby girl," he sighs, shaking his head. "You're gonna get me in trouble."

You shift around again. But it's not just shifting around. It's the same way you do it when you and him are lying in bed, not really doing anything, but still doing something. Flirting, fleeting touches. It's that shifting around. Kind of a wiggle.

So Dean does the logical thing - brings his hand to your knee, then runs the palm up, towards the inside of your leg. Your hand with the book meets the bed as you roll your hips, sigh a little. Oh shit. Yeah, he's not about to stop now.

You take your hand off the book, bring it to just under your breasts and slowly run it down your body. You're wearing the sweats you sleep in, not having had a reason to take them off yet, and Dean watches as your dainty hand wander in.

"I really hope you're at least thinking of me," he mutters as he looks down at you. "This is gonna be real awkward if not."

A soft smile goes over your face and Dean can see your hand moving. He huffs a little. He doesn't know if ghost boners are a thing, but he sure feels whatever the metaphysical version of it is coming on.

Your other hand goes to your breast, circling your hardening nipple through the fabric. Eyes falling shut.

"Darlin'," he says, his hand moving to go over yours, just the fabric separating your skin. That and the whole ghost business. And then your mouth drops open as his hand touches you - or hovers there, whatever. You moan, high in your throat. "You like that, huh?"

He pushes his hand down, careful not to press it low enough that he slips through you, and he's sure there's some resistance, but he might be imagining it. He doesn't care, either. He's straight Swayze-ing this.

"Oh yes," you mutter, eyes squeezing shut, "yes, baby." Dean really, really needs to believe he's baby, cause he doesn't think his ego can take it otherwise. That the thought of anyone else could get you going like this.

Your chest starts rising and falling faster, your face getting that concentrated look. You press your head back and then your body tenses, the best noises in the world leaving you. Dean needs to close his eyes at them. That ghost boner is straining against his non-existent jeans.

He opens his eyes again, and the vertigo hits him so hard it nearly catapults his stomach out of his body. His real, actual body. He's looking up at the sky. He blinks. Then Sam's dumb face slowly moves over him.

"You okay, dude?" he asks, looking worried. Dean untenses his body, which he's able to do. Lets out a deep breath.

"I'm fine," he grunts.

When they're back in the car, driving to the motel, Dean's mood has improved again. He knows he's gonna find you there, body probably still buzzing, and he's not gonna waste a second on putting his freshly regained motor skills to use.

And when the brothers arrive and you open the door for him, sling your arms around his neck and kiss his cheek with a grin that makes Sam immediately excuse himself, he knows you were thinking about him.

Did I do good? 🥺👉👈

[communistkenobi]

I’ve watched the first three Mission Impossible movies now and it’s crazy how they’re all completely different films from one another lol. which probably has to do with the fact that they all had radically different directors (Brian de Palma, John Woo, JJ Abrahams), but the only real consistent through line is Tom Cruise. Because even within the ten year time-span between their releases, the series is already unrecognisable from itself

The first one is a 1990s genre-defining heist spy movie and its concerns are very much rooted in the fact that the CIA is now basically this massive institutional leftover of the Cold War with many hanging threads that need to be dealt with (one of the main McGuffins being a list of names of undercover CIA agents scattered throughout ‘Eastern Europe’). When I first watched it I thought it was pretty good but not like great, but after having watched two of its sequels and thought about it some more I’m a lot more positive on it. The imagery of that movie is unforgettable, the highlight being the completely silent scene where Tom Cruise hangs from a wire in an all-white room trying desperately not to touch the floor. It’s crazy that de Palma directed this and Carrie and Scarface, all films with scenes permanently lodged into the cultural consciousness. And like it is a distinctly ‘cool’ movie, but not in the insane rabid jarhead post-9/11 action movie cool way, like there isn’t this fascistic military masculinity grafted onto it, its way more sleek genius spy guy shit. Anyway this one is really good.

The second movie is pretty bad and often barely comprehensible, like the scene-to-scene editing is hard to follow and the pacing is horrible. The experience of watching it is like watching Face-Off (another John Woo movie), like same weird ass vibe and editing except in this case the movie is boring and bad. Some of the stunts are pretty cool but they can’t really rise above the film they take place in. It’s also not a spy movie, it’s just a bad action movie. I feel like MI2’s biggest crime is trivialising Tom Cruise, like he has no presence or command in that film at all, he’s literally just a random guy with long hair. It’s insane the immediate drop in quality. This one is about a bio-engineered virus that the villains want to use to start a pandemic, but the concern feels very far away and immaterial ? Idk I really didn’t like this one

And then the third one is also just as bizarre because it looks and sounds and is written exactly like a Michael Bay film, down to the same vibrant ugly orange-blue colour palette and quippy dialogue and saccharine ending. And it’s also not a spy movie either lmao!!!! Like god the jump in representation of US intelligence agencies from 1996 to 2006 is staggering, it’s moved from using fantastical spy gadgets to very real military hardware and technology, only keeping the spy-magic tech in MI3 (like 3D printing the villain’s face as a mask disguise) because it was already established in the first one. And the action scenes are straightforwardly action scenes, shootouts with military helicopters and dodging precision drone strikes. Tom Cruise does an insane amount of running in this movie and it looks sooooo good, like there are so many long-ass shots of him just fucking booking it at full speed and that dude’s running form was made to be captured on film. But MI3 is like so deeply entrenched in Bush era catch-the-terrorists stuff, though somewhat offset by having Philip Seymour Hoffman as the main villain instead of like Al-Qaeda (although the main anxiety has still firmly shifted from a post-Soviet ‘Eastern Europe’ to a scary generalised terrorist ‘Middle East’). But again it feels so incredibly different in tone and fixation and motivation than the first film. 9/11 really did permanently break the brains of every USAmerican. Anyway I can’t wait to watch the next one

[lovelycorallight]

helping hands

ship: gideon gemstone x f!reader tags: smut, handjobs, established relationship, maybe some very light sacrilege wordcount: 1.1k notes: i finally watched trg and somehow his prodigal son ways and dirt bike tricks have charmed me. my first fic in a hot min... dusting off the rust with some church smut.

Sometimes, she really loved the church. 

More specifically, she found herself growing fond of how absolutely massive it was. Usually, it felt like an endless maze, a constant parade of people she didn’t recognize and hallways that genuinely seemed to lead to nowhere. A dozen empty rooms that held unopened books or unused gifts, far too big to ever really become familiar with. It was imposing in a way, like navigating a brand new puzzle every time she walked through in the doors. 

Gideon liked to say even he got lost sometimes, but that always felt like a courteous lie, made up  once again to make her feel better about taking the same wrong turn for the third day that week. He never actually stumbled when he walked the halls; truthfully, he could name every half-empty library and coffee kiosk that sprung up. And he knew the names of every single employee that waved back at them with a bright smile, offering good morning, Mr. Gemstone in perfect unison, like they’d spent the morning rehearsing just for this.

(He always met the greeting with one of those sloping smiles, the kind that said he didn’t really like what was happening, but it seemed too much of a hassle to make it stop. Way too polite, even for the stained glass windows and the carved doors he lead them through. 

And if she muttered Mr. Gemstone right into his ear, it only ever got an eye roll, or maybe a little shove against her hip, just to knock her off balance. Maybe a quick squeeze of her hand, nails digging sharp into her palm just before he let go.) 

But her favorite rooms, the very best ones in the whole building, tended to hang right off the forgotten libraries and the half-empty corridors. The ones with slim doors and low watt bulbs, a handful of unused brooms shoved deep in the corner. Or maybe a stack of ancient pamphlets, print years dating back before either of them were born. Those kinds of rooms always stood open and empty, constantly available for a pre-service pep talk away from prying eyes. 

Of course, this more than likely became a quick pre-service make out. Maybe even a brief pass over the clothes, sweaty fingers palming against her ass as they bunched the hem of her skirt higher.Or maybe, if they were both incredibly quick and miraculously quiet, and if she was eager to see the way his eyes rolled up to the sky when he muttered her name in that ragged kinda voice, just a little bit more. An extra special sort of pep talk.

Last time he’d been embarrassed, bright red even before she reached for his belt. But the experience must have changed some minds, because Gideon only huffed when she tugged on his zipper, the corners of his mouth struggling to stay down. 

“You don’t have to,” he murmured, and even that was half-hearted. “C’mon, I’m… I’m just-“

She never found out. As soon as she brushed his cock, one finger running soft down the side. his teeth bit down roughly on his bottom lip.

“You’re what?” She teased, but there was barely a hum in response. Just his gaze flicking down between them, eyes falling shut when she wrapped a hand tight around him. 

“I don’t know why you’re so nervous,” she offered. “You’ll do great. You’re always great.”

(Not really, not always, but it felt a little mean to bring that up right now. Gideon got too in his head about it all anyway, and then he’d start stumbling over words and mixing up his points. He was harder to put back together than to keep in one piece.)

“I’m not...Nervous,” he mumbled. “That’s- I’m not nervous.”

She could feel him jump in her hand with the slightest touch, a gentle squeeze and a slow slide down to the base, before he leaned close enough to bump her cheek with his nose. 

“Okay, sure. You’re a bad liar, but sure.”

At least that earned a smile, his mouth pressing right below her ear when she repeated the action. Slow and steady, until the rhythm almost felt too much like teasing, and she gave a quick swirl across the tip, thumb already slick as she let it slide back down. 

“Fuck, that’s-“

“Shhh!” She tried to cut off him with a kiss, but the word still seemed to finish in a moan. It echoed even in her mouth, vibrating when she slid his lips open, another futile attempt at keeping quiet. “Too loud.”

He nodded, yet the following groan managed to sound even noisier in the cramped space. “Oh, god-“

At least that one could blend in a little better. 

“I’m serious, you gotta be quiet-“

“Sorry,” he mumbled, lips wet when they slid across her cheek, barely leaving a spotty, apologetic kiss. “Sorry, sorry.”

Even in the dark he looked flushed pink, color spreading out from the bridge of his nose. A mix of embarrassed and wanting and still whining half under his breath, sweaty fingers sliding down the back of her skirt.

She tried to speed up, if only to end the torture he seemed to be experiencing. He felt close, hands tightening and his body crowding her own, until she could feel the comfortable weight of his chest. Sandwiched between a warm body and the hard concrete behind them, and she didn't think she'd ever felt closer to the church than right in this moment.

“Fuck!"

Now that one had to be noticeable, even down the hall and back through the lobby.

“You’re unbelievable,” she murmured. "Do you ever listen to me?"

He went for another kiss in response, unable to offer much more than his open mouth against hers and a hot breath across her tongue. Sloppy and unpracticed, two things Gideon hated to be. She’d have pointed it out, called him desperate and watched how he blushed even deeper, but his hips jerked up into her hold, and the final curse hissed only into her skin.

It barely took a moment to clean up again; that was the good part about fooling around like teenagers, no mess that couldn't be fixed with a slightly dusty rag or a quick once-over. Back to work in a tight fifteen, like nobody would ever know.

The hallway was empty when they reemerged, a lonely janitor hanging around the corner as they passed by. He offered another good morning, Mr. Gemstone, and if Gideon's answer was a little too quick, or way too loud, they could blame it on the growing rush of footsteps pouring into the lobby.

"For the record, I listen to you all the time," he promised, and the smile seemed far less crooked when he turned back to show it off. "You have some really great ideas."

[notedchampagne]

What makes a tlt au work for you? Do u have any favourites out there/that you’ve thought of?

its hard because it can go down to the writing! i have a huge bias for things that put focus on the characters acting awful and driving the story forward- if a story has a plot thats great, but its the difference between "gideon and harrow keep meeting up at parties and fall a little bit in love every time" and "gideons angry she lost her childhood to the cult so she attends a party with the tridentarii to shotgun adolescent experiences, and harrowhark, frustrated that gideon is pulling on her metaphorical leash, follows to stalk her". the former retains a 5+1 fic format and is more bite-size, while the latter puts more focus into their growth as characters. im not great at articulating what i like specifically, but ill put my favorite fics below:

what if nona was dogs tugs at my heart: its post-canon, slice-of-life, and has a unique concept (said in the title). i judged a book by its cover because i thought the premise seemed too silly at first but ive been made a fool and its pet clown. it feels so true to nona the way its about all the things nona loves and how she gets to explore the world through new eyes. i love the way it explores characters softening up and getting hurt through a third person pov

we have always lived in the apartment by @thatneoncrisis i keep saying this but for the love of GOD guys this au is so good it makes me cry and feel such a deep catharsis from it. it takes gideon and harrow and the ninth as a cult and explores their struggle to adapt to a modern society when noone ever gets a break (WOW ITS JUST LIKE IN REAL L-). quinn writes the sides of griddlehark i think go overlooked in fanfic often: their codependency, their tendency to lash out when theyre defensive, their mutual paranoia and different coping mechanisms, harrows psychosis and gideons bitterness, their relationships to each other as being the only other person who really understands what the other suffered through. god. i feel lightheaded.

"but SAM, i dont like angst but i want to see this writing!" read gap between a tragedy and a comedy

"SAM, i also like when gideon and harrow are horrible because theyre maladjusted teenagers! but i want more antics where the characters drive things forward over angst!" read whats eating gideon nav

you just aint receiving is one of my FAVORITE modern aus of all time (and i heavily recommend the authors other fics as well!) if you really want to see how much i love this fic the fact that my comments take up the entire phone screen probably says a lot. its hard to put it concisely: it keeps harrows air of misanthropy and cruelty but redefines it as the result of her upbringing and personal struggle to live in a university while dealing with a backpack of mental illness and frustration. it changes gideons personality as the daughter of john gaius in a way that makes sense having her grow up with johns middling parenting skills and getting everything she ever wanted (connecting it back to kirionas personality in ntn!). it brings in side characters (specially palamedes. my beautiful boy palamedes) in ways that compliment harrow and gideon but not so obviously that they only exist to be supports. they have their own lives and ideals. its a modern au that brings in the boiling politics of johns cult uprising once again in a really novel way

semi charmed kinda life by @griddlebait. jesuchristo and all his middle names this fic is GREAT for you if you want a slice of life, coming of age type modern au that explores what its like for gideon and harrow if they actually got the space to see who theyd become outside of the stifling fate tlt has for them. as far as modern aus go im usually very hesitant to read them because im afraid modernizing the characters takes features away from their core but i really love and respect the way the author treats the 69ers with care and draws distinct lines that shows me how their grow and change while keeping a line to the anchor. also they write HIDEOUS (complimentary) PINING. DISGUSTING. some of these chapters were so chock full of dyke drama that they made me nauseous and whimsical. i think once a friend said this fic felt like if gh could be reincarnated and i like that descriptor a lot

til the cows come home is another postcanon fic that made me feel sick and crybabyish about it- i would definitely recommend it if you want to explore a happier ending with griddlehark! with this and what if nona was dogs the thing i like most about them is that they mix up vulnerability with pain and fear, so it feels more lifelike that way if that makes sense. i lost my taste in fluff fics over time but when its interspersed with struggle and characters causing problems because they cant cope with themselves it feels much more earnest and raw

this became very long. im not sorry

[kabr0ztrousers]

Pure hearted angel guy who could do no wrong discovers through the power of fanfiction that he loves the idea of a pack of hellhounds taking turns fucking him or perhaps all at once... He goes against the wishes angel kind and journeys into hell to find some to give him that exact treatment. Little does he know that the pack isn't ever going to let him go... He's their fucktoy for the rest of eternity. Perhaps over time it slowly turns him into an angel-hound hybrid with the ability to carry their young

Kabr0z Writes episode 61: Angels and Demons

Find the rest of the Kabr0z Writes anthology here!

CWs: feral; knotting; noncon; group sex; fellatio; corruption; transformation; an angel having an extremely bad time;

A/N: Welcome to the first part of Volume 2! Same great taste, brand new contents page! I'm also kicking off the new volume with something I haven't done before this series: an episode written in the third person!

Hopefully you all continue to enjoy the series and keep sending requests, fanmail, all that good stuff!

######################################

He was there. From the first spark of light. He saw the world under construction. He saw the first faltering steps of man. He saw the fall of the first angel. He saw as the fruit of forbidden knowledge was plucked from the great tree. He is a watcher, a documentor, an archivist and a messenger. One of the lowest ranks of angels, he sat far from the throne of divinity, below the Principalities, below the Archangels, he sat. His job, for the last two thousand generations, was to comb through everything written by mankind. His name was Oriniel. Oriniel was bored.

Not of the work, you understand, he loved the work. He was assigned to fiction, earnestly produced. That meant that he wasn't reading the really boring stuff. He certainly didn't envy people in the Non-Fiction, Legal department who spent their time reading tax returns and dense terms-of-service documents. No, Oriniel read things that humans wrote because they wanted to. Every line, every clumsy sentence, every tortured metaphor, all of it had a little bit of a person's soul in it. He laughed with some, cried with others, smiled bemusedly at the digressions and rants, ached with yearning, and delighted in joy. The problem was, he spent all his time reading.

He wanted to experience it.

Oriniel put down the codex he was reading from, a chapter from some repository they called an archive of their own. He didn't get the name, surely all archives belonged to somebody? The passages were about the denizens of Hell, specifically a young woman fighting her way through pits of fire and legions of damned whilst getting into romantic scrapes with a pair of demons. He'd read enough of this kind of book to know that sooner or later the sword-swinging heroine would have to choose between the brooding and moody one, or the moody one who broods. It was a little predictable, but each work made in good faith is a precious gem, so he loved it anyway. It did make him a little restless though.

Hell expands, you see. Every time someone describes a new part of it, that geography becomes real. Even if they think they're describing an existing part, as long as it's a living human doing the imagining, it pops into existence. Denizens of Hell then move in, either true demons or the Damned, and it becomes another duchy in the growing empires.

What if, the angel wondered, his dove-like wings fluttering a little at the thought, what if I were to beat them to it?

He looked at the publication date. This work was only a few days old at most! Chances were nothings found its way there yet!

Oriniel leapt from his seat and dashed down the hall to the landing strip. He grabbed a sword from a rack and took flight, the blade ripping into a blaze of silver fire as he did.

The route to Hell is well known. Simply keep going descending until things get sulphurous and unpleasant. Descend he did, plunging down to where he guessed the outskirts of Hell would be, yellowish clouds of smog and soot clung to the land, but he knew what he sought.

There

A wasteland of grey-black ash, dotted with walled cities and black stone watchtowers. There wouldn't be anything living here yet, humans create geography, they don't ensoul anything, so this would be the perfect spot to-

A fireball arced from a watchtower, catching the angel's wing. Oriniel went into a spin, tumbling and flapping, the fiery sword flew from his hand to lose itself on the gale-force wind. He landed with a thump, rolling a few times until he hit a wall. Clearly, he wasn't the first one here.

A tall demon woman stepped towards him, a cruel whip made of black spiked chain in her hand. "I am Tz'Arre, magistrix of the Grey Sand Waste." New magistrix, but she wasn't going to admit that "And you, interloper, have broken a dozen treaties by simply being in my airspace. Now, I could report you to my superiors, who would report you to theirs, and them to yours, or..." The whip cracked "I can have some fun."

"Please, don't hurt me?" Oriniel wheezed. He shouldn't need to breathe. He shouldn't feel pain. Both of these things suddenly not being the case worried him

"Per section 438, subsection G, clause 75, line 93, of the armistice between the hosts both Holy and Profane, your ass is mine to do with as I wish. And I think," the whip cracked again, this time Oriniel screamed as a red welt appeared on his arm "I wish"

The demoness lifted her arms, four hellhounds stalked from behind her. The beasts looked like dogs. If you took a large mastiff, stripped any sort of good nature out of it, filled it with burning sulphur, and finally added two inches to every fang, claw, and unpleasantly pointy edge, you'd be left with something not unlike an unusually cuddly hellhound.

These were not unusually cuddly. Molten brass dribbled from their mouths, burning coals sat where eyes would be, but that wasn't what Oriniel was staring at.

Hanging from between the hind legs of each one was a long, knotted cock, dripping and shimmering with its own internal heat.

The demoness stroked one of the hounds as it passed her "Give this angel a warm welcome, boys"

She disappeared in a flash. The hounds dove on Oriniel. Scraping the stone floor beneath their steel claws as molten metal and spunk flew in burning droplets onto the angel, the scalding fluids making him scream.

The first hound placed its forelimbs on the angel's upper back, humping in at his face, the red-hot precum coating his skin until the cock slipped between his lips, reducing the screams to muffled sobs.

The next was upon the angel's ass, burning up his clothes as the turgid cock found its mark in his tight hole. It pushed in without any lube, not caring about any resistance as it sank down, spurting into his guts as it reached the base. The two others grabbed Oriniel's robes with their teeth, tearing and fighting over the silks as they waited their turn.

The one in the angel's mouth was reaching its peak, the knot expanded behind the angel's teeth, locking it in as the cum went from watery to viscous and ropey, searing its way down Oriniel's throat until it landed in his belly, corrupting the angel from within.

The one in his ass wasn't far behind, knot filling out, pressing against the walls of the angel's ass. Oriniel couldn't help himself. It was as though he was being controlled as a hand strayed between his legs, jerking his tiny angelic cock. His balls were already pulling up against his crotch as he moaned into the knot gagging him. Silvery angel-seed spurted from his dick, making a little puddle beneath him as he beheld above him, his golden halo began to squeal like hot metal pressed on dry ice.

The hound in his mouth pulled away, still semi hard. Oriniel kept his mouth open as he looked to the other two hounds, still fighting between themselves. He didn't know why, but he whistled at them. Their ears perked up, looking at him, before they raced over, both fighting to get their cock in his mouth before the other could claim the vacant hole. One won, ramming its member into the angel's throat as the other stalked around the other side, waiting its turn on Oriniel's ass.

The cock in his ass pulled out as the waiting hound bit at the heels of the one stuck inside, the knot popped free and the last rope of hot cum stretched out, glinting in the flat reddish light filtering from the clouds above. The new cock was no less eager, pounding in with gusto. Oriniel angled himself slightly, feeling as his swollen, eager prostate was battered by the hound's enormous cock, pushing him to cum again.

This time, the angel's cum wasn't silver; it was iridescent black, like oil covering a seagull. It flowed and flowed from him as the halo above his head screeched and hissed, glowing brighter for a moment, then shattering altogether.

Oriniel's mouth twisted into a blissed-out smile as he leaked that blue-black cum, his cock growing a little with each pulse as his body shifted. The two knotted cocks were being massaged and milked by his throat and ass, drawing the hot cum into him, using it to reshape his form.

His unbroken wing shed its feathers as they fell and burned, the wings turning leathery and batlike. He could sense his skin pulling tight against his bones until the ribs cracked and lengthened, bone poking through the skin. Only, it wasn't bone, it was brass, tarnish and patina pockmarked the surface. His eyes receded, the skin burning away from the upper half of his head, leaving a blank brassy plate in its place. The hound in his mouth pulled out as his jaw broke and reformed, bifurcating as his teeth dropped out one by one. Brassy spikes grew where they were, perfect dentistry replaced by a maw of razor-sharp metal.

The demon who was Oriniel stood, the last cock slipping from his dripping ass as his leaking cock hung, equine and many-knotted from between his legs, oily semen still flowing in an uninterrupted stream.

His hands smoothed over his head, the hair falling away in matted lumps, replaced by brass blades running parallel down his skull, cutting through the skin they grew through, shine dulled by the polluted air and oxidising heat.

The angel Oriniel was no more, there stood the demon Leini'ro

######################################

I had fun here, but on reading back, is this really what was asked for? Was it even all that hot? Did I write porn with horror elements, or horror with porn elements? Where even is that line?

I don't dislike what I did here, but I'm not sure anyone could successfully get off on being corrupted and forcefully transformed by being forced to drink evil cum.

You know what, now I've said that, that's absolutely something I've seen people on here getting off to.

Damn I love you pervs

[maiarayavt]

Not that anyone's been asking me but I've been mulling over Book 8, and my far-fetched predictions are:

• Twisted Wonderland's Beauty and The Beast version, with the Prefect as Beauty and Grim as the Beast. Think about it, in Book 6, Idia (Ortho? Leona? Someone in Book 6 at least) says something about Grim's powers stemming from ancient magic. And wasn't the Beast's transformation into... well, a beast, from a curse from a witch? What if it's the same as Grim?

• When (If?) Grim overblots, he'll be thought of as the monster. We saw beforehand how his instincts become more animalistic/primal, with some people likening him to a chimera. He loses all sense of civility, and when he scratched us in Book 6, Crowley was all like "You have to remember, he is still a direbeast" and urged us to be cautious.

• And just like in Beauty and the Beast, where the townsfolk mob the castle to get rid of the monster, so will the students (or Sage Island's residents) demand that Grim be disposed of. Idk. My crack theory at this point is that he flees to Vargas' hometown and we get a twistunes version of Gaston's song lmao.

• The internships get postponed. Why? Because capitalism, that's why. From a business standpoint, it makes no sense for Twst to get rid of their characters when they're all so beloved by many all over the world, especially the third years. (Think of a world with no Malleus or Leona? Oh the in game purchases would tank lmao). Take note that this year alone, twst has been off the charts in terms of game popularity not just in JP but across the globe as well.

• If they managed to (SPOILERS!!) Kill Lilia and bring him back alive through the power of true love and BACK to NRC to go live with his sons just so they can milk more out of his character, then I think they'll find a way to keep everyone in the game with a healthy amount of screentime.

• PETER PAN EVENT PLEASE!!! Give me a hot Captain HOOK DISNEY PLEASE.

• New characters!! Maybe Chenya or Neige gets some love from the devs and we get RSA cards. Which leads me to the great NRC vs RSA spelldrive tournament! Though at this point I think this is already a given because why else would you introduce RSA.

• Please just make more women characters I'm begging 😭 Please make Elsa or Merida real in this world 😭

• The Dark Mirror will shatter into a million pieces and the Prefect gets stuck in twst because why not. They need our money and for them to do that, we (the players) need to be kept in the game for a looooonggg period of time.

• Sam's hometown event because why do the students get all the hometown events I want to see Port 'O Bliss too.

• Crewel's actual dogs will be paying us a visit. Why? for funsies. Maybe we'll get to see them bite Crowley's ass idk.

Anyway I'm so excited for whats in store!!! Hope one of these comes true lol especially Crewel's dogs I really want to see them 😭

[northernsunsets]

AU on my mind lately has been shen bros as huli jing cuz I like foxes lmao

more about it under the read more

Very unrefined but here we go.

Shen Yuan transmigrates into a newborn huli jing, and then a couple years later his younger brother is born and promptly both are abandoned. Shen Yuan luckily between both actually being an adult and his fox form he manages to not immediately die but in the end ends up with the slavers because it’s this or dying. There he meets Yue Qi who is barely older than him, they hit it off and Yue Qi loves his little brother.

Here he gets the name Shen Ba (8) and his younger brother Shen Jiu. (Sure he Could get at least his brother and Yue Qi to call him Yuan but wouldn't that be so sad if he had a name but his younger brother doesn't (this is really just whatever the hell is going on with him that he will leave his previous identity behind like it's nothing)) He keeps Shen Jiu in his human form and hides it for years that they’re huli jing. As far as Shen Jiu knows he and his gege are as human as Yue Qi. Shen Ba will sometimes disappear to go hunt as a fox to make sure Shen Jiu gets some protein in him and then lies about how he caught it.

I haven’t decided how the Qiu Manor era goes down yet so we will skip that for now.

Then they join Cang Qiong, Shen Jiu going to Qing Jing and Shen Ba to the beast raising peak. They both become peak lords Shen Jiu becoming Shen Qingqiu and Shen Ba becoming Shen Qingcui (meaning something like clear and melodious). At some point Shen Ba realizes that Fuck his little brother is the scum villain, and hopes that either his influence has made Shen Qingqiu a better person so he won't abuse children, or he can intervene somehow.

Then a few years into being peak lords Shen Qingqiu has a qi deviation and all of a sudden he’s got fox ears and two tails, he runs off to his brother. He’s certain that if anyone else saw him they wouldn’t believe it’s a qi deviation effect and instead that he’s a huli jing.

Then Shen Qingcui is like “oh yeah lmao we Are huli jing, oopsies forgot to tell you,” and Shen Qingqiu has a crisis.

Eventually he accepts it and just lives his life with a little extra anxiety that he and/or his brother will be found out.

Shen Qingcui manages to snag Luo Binghe when he shows up by just being fast as hell. Give no one else the chance to think about him or argue he has the talent to do more than raise the animals they eat. (it’s ok if anyone has the chance to question it, Shen Qingqiu would be on their ass for insinuating his older brother is lesser)

Things are great for a bit, Luo Binghe isn’t abused and is doing well on the peak. Then Shen Qingqiu goes into seclusion. The day he’s getting out Shen Qingcui is on Qiong Ding cause if he’s not there to greet Shen Qingqiu he’ll be so mad, and Luo Binghe tags along.

Then demons attack, Luo Binghe fights the third battle and does pretty well from the get go cause he’s been getting taught right from the beginning. He wins of course etc etc and Shen Qingcui gets without a cure. When he passes out he also reverts to his fully fox form, and all of Qiong Ding and Qing Jing peaks, the random disciples from a few other peaks, Liu Qingge and Luo Binghe all witness as suddenly instead of a sick peak lord they have a sick three tailed fox.

There’s uproar, there’s been a huli jing here this whole time and No One noticed. But it’s Shen Qingcui, and he really is genuinely nice, and there's no way he's causing any trouble through seduction because everyone knows he's not fucking anyone.

In the end everyone willingly complies with Yue Qingyuan’s gag order. Shen Qingcui lies and says Shen Qingqiu is 100% human because he knows people would be less willing to be so forgiving towards his brother. He tried really hard to raise him ok, but like you try to raise a well adjusted kid in the circumstances they were in. Shen Qingqiu is still a bitch but he's not abusing children so to Shen Qingcui considers this a win in his book.

Then everything continues as normal, sure they have a huli jing on the peak but they have it handled. All he wants to do is study beasts and by god will they let him study those beasts, he became a peak lord for a reason.

Immortal Alliance Conference comes and when Mobei Jun reveals Binghe’s demonic heritage Shen Qingqiu pushes him into the abyss. It's not anything personal, Binghe is nowhere near the top of Shen Qingqiu' shit list in this lifetime, but he's not letting his gege's spot in Cang Qiong get anymore precarious.

Shen Qingcui knows Shen Qingqiu is lying to him when he says that Binghe tripped and fell in. He admits to knowing Binghe was a demon and Shen Qingqiu is pissed his brother would risk himself so needlessly.

etc etc and eventually we get to adult Binghe noosebleed over the image of Shen Qingcui with 8 nipples

[eelclaw]

okay new arc... my thoughts.

leafstar:

leafstar was one of my favorite characters as a kid, but not because of anything she actually did. i liked her graphic novels, but only mostly because i was delighted by sol being a pathetic girlfailure.

also my copy of skyclan's destiny was misprinted and had pages out of order, and i loved having a fucked up book.

i liked her in firestar's quest, but... she's done nothing in every book since.

sharpclaw pushes her around in skyclan's destiny, then tells her he was just challenging her to make her a more confident leader. nothing comes out of this.

she's worried about female leaders not being allowed to have kits and about inviting daylight warriors into the clan, and it would've been great to just skip these plotlines entirely. skyclan had a chance to be a different kind of clan, a breath of fresh air from the shit we normally read about, and they didn't take it.

in ravenpaw's farewell she decides that skyclan hates outsiders. then ravenpaw proves her wrong by helping chase out some rogues that skyclan somehow couldn't chase out on their own, so she changes her mind, but only enough to take in bella and riley.

the general back-and-forth and nothing getting done in avos, tbc, and asc just annoys me.

her going blind is actually pretty interesting, but it needs to be handled well, and it's not going to be.

she's pretty old at this point, so i hope she dies, but the kid in me still hopes she gets an awesome death.

tawnypelt:

the way she's treated in avos and in her novella is incredibly uninteresting.

her clanmates don't take her seriously because of how closely she was associated with rowanstar. that's cool! that's interesting! but how long has it been since avos? she's far and away proved herself to be a valuable member of shadowclan.

the "kids these days" plotline is so fucking frustrating, i don't want it to come back.

i thought her novella had a nice conclusion. she accepted that her lost loved ones were lost, and that she could not go back to the way things were, but she could keep moving forward, and she would see her family in starclan some day. from the blurb, this conclusion is going to be completely trampled.

i'm also sick of tigerheartstar changing every book, just to drive whatever the current mess of a plot is.

moonpaw:

not many thoughts. betting her parents are nightheart and sunbeam.

hoping she's distinct from frostpaw and shadowsight. i can't take a third one.

it would be interesting if nightheart dies before she's born, paralleling larksong dying before nightheart was born. then nightheart might realize a bit of what his parents were going through.

overall. not hopeful. i'm super tired of the formula they've been using for the past few arcs. i don't care about "the end of the cats' connection to starclan". just because these books are about religious cats doesn't mean we can't have deep, meaningful, character-driven plots. why can't we get one of those.

[echantedtoon]

A Lovers' Circle (Poly Haishira x Reader) Ch24 A Little Closer

Taglist: @shadyd3ar @jcrml

@tengensangel @miniverse-zen @mysteri0uz @jjamsbangtan

@the-unknown-fandom

@lavenderdropp @mimisweetz. @purplesoulsapphire

@kksmush @denkpanda18 @whomisi @lessthanimperfect @silver-rin

@namis-noodlebox

@k1ttyluverz @akiramente

@rascalraccoon @ravenclawkae1

@gilded-sunrays @crescent-blades

@yukari1k @bloodymarysgirl21

@artbyrebel @abaker74 @lunarluna9482

@rainbowidol @lanabanoms @whatarewe-choppedliver

Remember if you want to be added to the taglist lemme know

(Hearts conquered so far: Gyomei, Sanemi, Tengen, Kyojuro, Suma, Hinatsuru, Makio, Shinobu, Kanae, Mitsuri, and now Obanai. Congrats! You've successfully conquered all hearts! But the journey isn't over yet. The painting Tengen painted is similar to the picture above I found on Pinterest but different. The poem Obanai wrote is also something I found on Pinterest. Also warnings for mentioning of Obanai's scars and the death of most of Tengen's family. The song Y/n sings is Golden Dreams from The Stingiest Man In Town by Rankin Bass linked below.

https://www.pinterest.com/pin/600104719130125897/

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=skhZiUkKtkc&list=LL&index=14&pp=gAQBiAQB8AUB    )

It was Tuesday. Just a few days until New Year's Eve and the party Tengen and Kyojuro would be hoisting at The Uzui's home. You agreed to go when Kyojuro texted you the day after Christmas inviting you to said party. Of course you accepted since you couldn't remember the last time you were invited to a party surrounded by friends. Actual friends you made that you liked a great deal. However this particular day, you had nothing to do and no one else to do anything with. So you cleaned up your house a little bit before deciding on trying out one of the recipes from your new cook book. 

You'd gotten a few Christmas gifts from your friends including a pretty necklace, a cute little throw pillow, and a new cookbook from Sanemi whom looked so flustered when giving you the gift bag it was in. Guess he wasn't used to giving anyone presents outside his partners and family. It was still a good gift however and you settled on trying out the no bake cookies recipe after flipping through the pages trying to decide on what to make. So there you were in one of your aprons mixing the dark brown dough together for the next step of the recipe when you had heard it. The knocking at your door.

KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.

You stopped mid stir blinking up towards the front door as it came again but louder this time. Odd. Who could that be? You weren't expecting anyone today. Everybody else was so busy. Maybe it was the mailman? When the knocks came the third time, you gently placed the bowl down and made your way towards the door. Opening it up and blinking at who was on the other side. 

A man your height stood there staring at you. A thick wool scarf around his neck and lower face, and and even thicker black and white coat making him look comically round. Yellow-green eyes stared at you from between the black locks around his face and you instantly knew who you were staring at.

"Oh. Hi, Obanai. I wasn't expecting to see you here." You smiled but you were a little confused by his presence here. "What are you doing here?"

He didn't answer at first before saying two words. "Totoro kombu."

You blinked. "I'm sorry. What?"

"Totoro kombu," he repeated seriously.

You still stared at him confused at first before it hit you. "Oh. Do you want me to make you more?" He instantly nodded eagerly. "Oh sure. I can do that right now since I got some seaweed. Do you wanna come in? It's cold out there."

He nodded again and you stepped aside to allow him to come inside. He gave a curious look around your house and turned his head hearing you close the door and turning to walk around him. 

"I wasn't expecting you y'know."

"Oh." He slowly blinked. "Did you rather that I have not come?"

You shook your head holding up your hands. "No, no. It's not that." You assured him. "If you just wanted me to make you some more food, you could've just called me instead. You didn't have to go out of your way to come all the way here." You paused when a realization hit you. "Wait. How did you get my address?" You know Giyuu and Shinobu gave everyone your phone number but as far as you knew, no one gave Obanai your address.

"I remembered it from when Mitsuri brought me here before Halloween." Ah. When you asked her to help you bake cookies for Kyojuro's party. That explained it. He then reached up to unzip his coat. "I also wanted to return this to you." You watched as he reached into his coat and pulled out an empty tupperware container, the one you gave him that day at the cafe, before he held it out to you. "Here."

"Oh. Thank you. I hope it was ok," you said while taking it from him.

He nodded looking down. "Yes...Thank you."

You smiled at him. "Of course! I'm just happy you liked it. Do you want some hot chocolate while you wait?" Your head nodded towards the kitchen. "It'll take me a while to make you some more food since you caught me in the middle of making cookies."

He hummed before shrugging. "Sure."

"Alright. Come on in and make yourself at home."

He made his way into the kitchen taking off his coat and scarf before placing them on the back of one of the kitchen chairs. His eyes watched her form walk past him and back towards the kitchen, placing the tupperware in the sink before going back to her bowl of cookie dough, starting to pull out enough for a cookie before rolling them up, placing them on a tray covered in parchment paper, and repeating again and again until the bowl was empty and the tray was placed in the refrigerator. He was silent during the entire process just watching her work from his seat at the table.

When her business with the refrigerator was done, she turned to put the dishes she used in the sink and pulled out a mug from the cabinet. The process of making him a cup of hot chocolate was a little longer than he thought was necessary but when she placed it in front of him he understood why. It was one of those fancy hot chocolates like you'd buy at a cafe. Whip cream on top perfectly with marshmallows stuck in its white creaminess, a candy cane and reusable plastic straw sticking out of it, and some spices sprinkled on top to give it a brown tint to the top. Cinnamon or more powdered chocolate maybe?

"Careful. It's hot."

"Thank you."

He'd let it cool down a little bit before he drank it. Instead he just focused on observing her work still, fetching a small pot from the kitchen and filling it with water from the sink before placing it upon the stovetop. Turning it on before she opened the fridge and brought out a jar. From the sight of it, it must've been the pickled vinegar seaweed used for the recipe. 

"I see you don't have Kaburamaru with you today," you broke the silence as you just simply continued to work catching his attention. "Is there a reason for that?"

"It's too cold for him to be outside," he said simply, "It's safer to just keep him at home warm in his enclosure."

"Oh, I see." Some splashing sound went off as you poured the seaweed from the jar into the pot of water turning on the stove to boil it. "I suppose winter is no place for a cute snake like him."

"No....He didn't feel detect you as a threat."

You paused looking over your shoulder at him. "Come again?"

He stared intently at you still pointing a hand. You noticed that he still wore a medical mask over his face without the scarf to cover him. "Kaburamaru doesn't like people plain and simple. Even only tolerates some of my partners because he knows that I care about them, but that doesn't mean he likes them. He loathes strangers coming up to me however..." He slowly lowered his hand still intensely staring at you as if you were some kind of revaluation to him. "He hadn't once threatened you anytime you were near me. It made me wonder why that was."

You were speechless for a long moment pausing to stare at him. You never once thought of his snake as a threat. After all he wasn't even venomous. According to Obanai, Kaburamaru was just a harmless albino rat snake. He never hissed at you when you saw him, and you only saw a cute noodle with big eyes staring back at you.

"Well.. maybe it's because I never saw him as a threat?," you offered with a shrug, "I mean he's just a harmless little snake, he's not even venomous. If anything he'd probably be more scared of me because I'm a lot bigger and could hurt him if I stepped on him by accident."

"You aren't scared of him at all?...Why?"

"I grew up with an aunt who had a few pet tarantulas and believes in things like talking to spirits with ouija boards and reading palms to predict the future." You shrugged at his wide eyed expression. "A harmless little snake isn't going to phase me."

Obanai slowly blinked even slower nodding his head. "That..makes more sense now..I guess. But if Kaburamaru sees you as no threat, then that means a lot." 

You smiled. "Well I'm glad he's not scared of me. Are you going to drink your hot coco?"

He hummed again but simply just took the straw sticking out of the cup to poke it under his mask, taking a few sips of the sweet drink as you continued to walk around the kitchen grabbing utensils and spices you'd need to make Obanai the food he came all the way out here for. After all you didn't want to be a rude host. He continued to watch you in silence once more as you worked for the next ten minutes taking sips of the drink to not seem rude.. before he stopped glancing down at the drink, contemplating something in his head for a moment, before his eyes glanced back up to you.

"Did you see my face?"

Again you were caught off guard almost dropping the spoon in your hand. "What?"

"On Christmas. My mask was taken." A single finger pointed at his face. "Did you see my face?"

The silence increased in an awkward degree as you both stared.  No sounds other than the boiling water upon the stove before you sighed through your nose with a worried expression.

"I did." You decided to be honest with him. "But you reacted so fast running away and covering yourself, that I didn't really get to see what you looked like under your mask." You answered truthfully. And it was true. He reacted so fast it was almost inhuman. "Plus it's been a good while since last week and I haven't been thinking about it." You really hadn't given it a second thought too busy with so many other things, and you thought the whole situation was behind you. So you never thought about it again until Obanai brought it up again just now. "I honestly don't know what you look like under your mask, Iguro."

He still stared silently at you not saying a word before his eyes narrowed suspiciously. They slowly looked you all the way down to your feet before slowly raising all the way up to your eyebrows. He seemed to be studying your body language as well as your expression. Seeming to trying to find a single shred of deceit. But strangely found nothing in your face or posture to back up his suspicions. You only had a concerned frown.

"You... hadn't seen anything?"

"I mean..I did saw what looked like marks-" He flinched and you quickly held up your hands. "-but like I said, I don't know what you look like at all. It was too fast and long ago for me to make out anything about you."

He had tensed up upon your honest answer...but with an inhale slowly forced himself to relax. "I-I see. So you really hadn't seen my face?" You shook your head no and with how your reaction was, he was inclined to believe that this time. "I see." He repeated again but this time he sounded relieved.

"Did...you want me to know what you looked like?"

"NO!!" You jumped again and he seemed to since at how loud he was. "I mean no. I-I'm not comfortable with showing it." Perhaps maybe in the future but definitely not now.

"That's fine. You don't ever have to show me if you don't want to," you assured him turning back to the stove to finish cooking the food. "I won't ever pressure you too and it's none of my business. If you ever do decide to show me just know that I won't judge you but I want you to do it because YOU want to and only if you're comfortable with it. Not because you think you should. We don't even have to talk about them if that makes you more comfortable."

He said nothing as he just stared wide eyed. So you just continued cooking away as the minutes ticked on and the kitchen was filled with the smell of food. Obanai hadn't moved from his spot even when a plate of food and a pair of chopsticks was placed in front of him before you pointed towards the living room.

"I'll be in the living room." You decided to give him space to eat comfortably. You have to wait for the cookies to get really cold in the fridge anyways. "If you need me, I'll be cleaning up in there. Ok?"

He slowly nodded watching you walk off towards the other room leaving him alone to eat in the silent kitchen. Ever so slowly, his hands reached up to remove the mask from his face. The chopsticks left to the side getting picked up and picking up the strands of shredded seaweed before him, making it's way to the scared mouth from the accident long ago. A sigh leaving his nose as the peaceful atmosphere allowed him to relax. Although his head perked up slightly at the sound of a voice singing softly from the other room alongside the shuffling of footsteps and sound of broom bristles gliding across the wooden floors.

"I think of you and my future gleams.~ My mind is filled with golden dreams.~ I think of you and I love you so.~ All the world takes on a golden glow.~ So hold me close tonight, and fill me with dreams of delight.~ I think of you and your love for me.~ And I know that life with you will be more beautiful than it seems in my golden dreams.~"

That was a song from a Christmas movie wasn't it? Although he wasn't sure what movie if it was from one it was from one but he enjoyed listening to the singing and humming in the background as he ate. You decided to busy yourself by sweeping the floors in your living room and under the furniture. Biding your time to allow Obanai some privacy, however you hadn't noticed the man standing within the same room until he cleared his throat. You looked back up and smiled at Obanai awkwardly standing there coat in his arms, mask back over his face, and his eyes looking down.

"Oh. Are you finished?"

He nodded. "Yes. I left the dishes in your sink."

"That's fine." You glanced at his jacket. "Are you leaving now?"

He nodded again. "Yes. I came to do what I needed to."...He slowly looked back up to you again. "Here." He held up a hand holding a small folded piece of paper. "Before I go."

You slowly took it from him turning it over in your hands. "What is it?"

"Something to say thank you for your help. Nothing more."

A gift? But is wasn't Christmas anymore. You curiously looked at the paper before putting the broom to the side and unfolded the paper. On it in scribbly handwriting looked to be..A poem?

'If I'm being honest

it was a disturbingly short

amount of time

between meeting you

and wanting to say

'"I love you."'

You were surprised by the love poem from Obanai of all people and gave him a confused look but he only looked to the side to avoid eye contact. Oh wait a minute. Didn't Tengen mention that Obanai liked poetry? He must've written this as the thank you he mentioned earlier. You looked between the gift and himself before smiling at him.

"How sweet. Thank you, Iguro. I really appreciate it."

"Don't mention it." He mumbled slipping the cost over his body. "I was just thanking you. Don't take it the wrong way."

"I won't." You beamed at him in a similar way Mitsuri does. "Thank you, Obi. I love it."

He stared before his face lit up a pink and he swiftly twisted to the door swiftly walking away. "Right!Seeyouatthepartybye!!" He quickly forced out as he all but rang out the door leaving you dumbfounded staring after him.

Huh. That was strange but maybe he felt too awkward in the moment or wasn't comfortable with your prescense yet. Either way you appreciated the gift and later pinned it up in your bedroom that night. The rumors Murata had warned you about him was absolutely wrong. He was just as big of a sweetheart as Sanemi and Tengen was. Even if he was a bit strange, he had a good heart.

Another four days passed by. You hadn't heard from Obanai since Tuesday but you didn't expect to when he said he'd see you again at the party. But you were glad for Shinobu calling and giving you a heads up that she and Giyuu could carpool with you much to your delight. If you were going to attend a party until midnight then you didn't think you would be awake enough to drive back home in the middle of the night.

So here you were late that evening sitting in the back of Shinobu's car as she drove herself, Giyuu, her sister, and you to Tengen's home. Already the sky was dark and the first few stars were out. This was very peaceful. It didn't take long to arrive at the familiar fancy Uzui household where other cars were parked and your party walked right up to the door. Snow crunching under your feet and the cold air nipping at your noses. Giyuu got there first and knocked loudly. Just a few seconds later you all heard someone literally run up to the door before it was thrown open and you all were face to face with a beaming Suma.

"YOU'RE HERE!," She cheered loudly before backing up and quickly beckoned you all to come inside. "C'mon, c'mon, c'mon! Everyone else is already here!"

The inside was decorated beautifully. Black, white, and gold streamers and balloons were tied up everywhere and a large table of pizza, sodas, and other party food was displayed out on it. By said table you spotted Mitsuri holding an entire pizza box for herself scarfing it down. Next to her was Obanai whom was watching her with adoration. However he turned to as soon as you walked in the door. You smiled and waved at him to which he quickly turned away turning a pink and making Mitsuri blink at him.

"Well if it isn't my flamboyant muse!" Your attention was quickly turned to Tengen whom smiled at you and waved a hand. "I was wondering if you were ever going to show!"

"I wouldn't miss this. Not when you promised to finally show everyone your painting." You'd been anxious to see it ever since he promised to show everyone at the party. "Is it finished?"

"Of course it is! I never lie about my painting skills!," he stated matter of fact as he puffed his chest out in pride hands on his hips. "I put the finishing touches on it just yesterday but you're gonna have til midnight to see it just like everyone else!" A hand was held up. "I want this masterpiece to be my first art showcase for the next year!"

"Ok. Fair enough. I'm so excited to see it!"

His smile turned softer then looking at you. "Y'know...this just might be my new favorite painting thanks to you." He gestured a hand to the table. "Make yourself at home! We're gonna be playing a few games and watching a movie tonight so might as well pregame!"

"Thanks, Tengen!" You smiled at him as he walked away and you turned to go hang your coat up when you ran into Hinatsuru.

"Here. Let me get that for you." She gestured to your coat.

"Oh. Thank you and thank you guys for inviting me to your party."

Her pink eyes softly smiled at you in response as she took your coat. "Actually.. it's us who should be thanking you." You were visibly confused so she sighed. "Tengen often gets very sad around this time of year because of his family's tragedy but you managed to lift his spirits this year. I just wanted to thank you for that."

"Oh. There's no need to thank me. I didn't do much aside from posing for a picture."

"Actually you've done a lot more for everyone here than you'll ever realize."

Huh? What did she mean by that? You didn't get a chance to ask her before she had already turned and left. Well...That was certainly strange but you assumed she was just happy with your attempts to help everyone here and be friendly. Shrugging it off, you made your way to Gyomei whom greeted you with a kiss and an arm pulling you against his side as he continued to speak to Sanemi and Kyojuro about how their classes had been going and discussing some historical facts Kyojuro brought up. Gyomei and Kyo seemed to really enjoy discussing the history of religion and the shrines he loved to visit.

You didn't mind just enjoying the company for now until you felt something like your arm to get your attention, making you turn and look surprised to see Obanai standing there. He stared at you before looking off to the side and holding up a single can of cold soda. 

"I-..got you a drink."

You blinked but smiled at him before taking the can. "Thanks, Iguro. That's very thoughtful of you." 

He just quickly mumbled something under his breath before spouting out some excuse and walking away quickly. Earning a raised brow from Gyomei and Sanemi but the two were quickly drawn back to Kyojuro when he brought up the name of a famous mathematician from history. None of you noticed the pink and green haired woman who had been watching the interactions between you and her boyfriend VERY closely. You hadn't even noticed Mitsuri following close behind you until you excused yourself from the men to go get some of the pizza on the table. Well not until you had gotten to the table and started to get some pizza.

"Hi, Y/n!"

You looked up and smiled at Mitsuri happily tilting her head towards you. "Hi, Mitsuri. Am I in your way?"

Her head shook braids swaying. "Nope! I was just wondering what you and Oni were talking about."

You blinked. Obanai? "Nothing really. He was being nice and got me a drink. That's all."

She hummed interested in that fact much to your confusion. "Really? That's it?"

You nodded. "Uh huh. I guess he wanted to try and talk more since he visited me."

"Obanai visited you?" The shock and surprise on her face took you aback a bit.

"Yeah? On Tuesday. Did he not tell you?"

"No." Her green eyes glanced up towards said boyfriend but he was busy with Kanae probably discussing the similar sciences behind their studies. "What did he want?"

"Oh. He was just returning the tupperware I gave him a while back." Obanai didn't tell Mitsuri he visited you? That was strange considering how close they were but you supposed he really didn't want anyone to know about what happened. "He also wanted some more Totoro kombu so I made him some."

"Really? That's all he wanted?" She almost sounded disappointed. "You guys didn't talk or anything?"

You shrugged. "We talked about some stuff that happened at the fair last week and he thanked me but that was it." You told her the truth but left out exactly what happened at the fair you two were discussing and what exactly he thanked you for in order to keep your promise to the snake loving man. "Oh. And he told me a little about his snake but that's it."

Immediately Mitsuri's expression when from disappointed to surprise to absolutely BEAMING. "He told you about Kaburamaru?!" You nodded. "How do?!"

Again confused you shrugged. "Just about what kind of snake he was and things like that. Why?""

You just got an excited squeal out of her which wasn't uncommon as she smiled widely. "Obi, told you about Kaburamaru! He only talks about his snake with people he likes!!"

You blinked. "Really?" She nodded excitedly which made you smile. "I guess we're starting to become better friends then!" You were genuinely happy to be making process with befriending him.

Mitsuri had a strange gleam to her eyes but happily nodded in agreement. "Oh yes! Friendships are a beautiful thing! And so are other relationships too!"

You have her a strange look but nodded in agreement anyways. It was true but a strange choice in words. "So how did you like playing Clara in The Nutcracker?"

You both chatted with each other a bit discussing the play before Shinobi announced she was putting in a horror movie she had brought along called simply 'ONI' as everyone waited for midnight to slowly approach. Hour after hour ticked away and despite the movie taking up a lot of the time, you still felt yourself getting more and more tired. So Tengen decided of another way to distract everyone from the time. And arm wrestling contest between the girls. Of course no one was too enthusiastic about that but complied as just a means of passing the time...You probably should've known better when you sat down and immediately Giyuu stood next to you with his arms out ready to catch something. You should've seen it coming when you agreed to go first against Mitsuri-

"Ready? Set. GO!!"

It was all one big blur. One moment you were sitting at the coffee table as Sanemi shouted go, then the next you were flying to the left and into Giyuu's awaiting arms like a goalie waiting to catch the ball. He stumbled back from the sudden force of your body flying into him causing him to stumble back and you both landed in a heap on the floor.

"OH MY GOSH!! ARE YOU TWO OK?!," Mitsuri instantly shouted shooting up to her feet. "I'm so sorry! I was trying really hard to not do it so hard!"

"We're ok." You both slowly got up with the help of everyone else. Now you knew why Giyuu prepared himself to catch you. Mitsuri had insane strength!  "I guess this just means I'm disqualified."

It was no surprise Mitsuri had won in the end. Tengen suggested another arm wrestling contest between the guys but that was quickly dismissed in favor of Kyojuro offering to go get Saki for everyone. You declined staring that you didn't drink but Obanai was nice enough to get you another soda surprising everyone else but making you happy.

Hours continued to tick by slowly and slowly until someone realized that it was eleven fifty right. Then everyone seemed to completely stop what they were doing to stare intently at the clock on the wall as the hands slowly moved with each passing second. Two minutes felt like an eternity as the hands carefully turned to eleven fifty nine p.m.. Everyone intensely staring at it with baited breath as the seconds tilted down..

Down..

Down..

Midnight-

"HAPPY NEW YEAR!!"

You nearly went deaf from the loud shouts and claps that sounded off around you and someone squeezed you in a happy hug amongst the festivities. Being super tired and fighting sleep,you didn't fight back and just chose to smile at everyone until the cheers slowly subsided and only a happy murmuring was about the home.

"Hey, Tengen! Are you gonna show us that painting you've been boastin' about or what?!"

That made you perk up a bit. The painting you've been posing for hours for. The only one's who's seen it had been Tengen himself and two of his wives. You were VERY interested in seeing it before your body forced yourself to pass out. The silver haired man seemed to beam brightly at it being brought up and placed a hand to his chest. 

"But of course! I've been waiting ages to show this!" With a smile everyone watched as he simply waltzed on into the kitchen and a few seconds later he came back out carrying a wooden stand with a tablecloth covering the square top. Covering a painting! He took his sweet time setting it up in the middle of the room, and grabbed the top of the cloth. "Behold! The eighth wonder of the world!" He gestured to it with his other hand. "I call it 'Newest Adoration!'"

With one swooping motion, the tablecloth was torn off the top and fluttered to the floor. A round of awed stares and gasps filled the room and your eyes widened at the sight of what you saw.

It was you!

Well half of you. Your face looked as if it had been magnified, before strands of your f/c hair had been turned into sickened strands flowing in the wind across the soft skin. Your pupil turned into a f/c diamond crying miniature diamonds falling down your cheek like crystallized tears. A few jewelled strands of the crown you wore for the costume dancing around your forehead. 

"Well?" Tengen gave an expecting look around. "What do you think?"

"It's so pretty!!," Suma gushed clasping her hands together. "You did it again, Tengen!"

"How the fuck is he able to make them look like real jewels?" "It's lovely! You really captured her complexion." "Good job, Tengen!"

He smiled proudly at the praise it garnered but laser focused back on you as you continued to stare at it silently. Wide eyes looking at the beautiful painting before you just looking at it before slowly an arm half reached out towards it before it stopped and instead your hand reached up to run over your own cheek.

"Is that really me?" You almost didn't recognize your voice, it was so small barely a whisper.

Tengen nodded before rubbing his chin looking over the painting. "I mean I did add a fantasy tweak to your eyes but the rest of the painting is just what I saw when you modeled for me." Magenta eyes glanced over you gauging your reaction. "What do you think, Y/n?"

"... It's beautiful. I-..I didn't think I could ever look that beautiful."

"Are you kidding me? You were always this beautiful! You still are even as you stand there!" He gestured to the painting. "The only difference here is that one version of that beauty is engraved in paint." 

A sniffle left your nose. A sleeve reached up to wipe at your eyes before they could start tearing up. 

"Aw. Hey, Y/n. It's ok to cry." You felt Mitsuri hug your side patting your head. "There, there."

"I-I don't know what to say. *sniffle* T-Thank you."

[livingdeadmlm]

You Bring Me Closer to God pt6

Pronouns: The reader is referred to as a man. 

Physical Sex: AMAB. 

How far are things going?: FIRST KISS!! Also, ass grabbing and flirting! If you have any ideas, let me know—your suggestions will really help my writing go faster!

Warnings: Priest Reader is getting drunk, so it is slightly out of it for the kiss and ass grabbing, but not in a bad way? Idk. This shit is consensual cause that's how I wrote it to be. 

Outline: The reader is told Dutch wishes to speak to him, preparing a pie, the reader sets off with Kieran at sunset, not knowing it was an invite to a party!

What inspired me to write this: the awful priest romance book I picked up. 

Other: I am also thinking about writing a Moder Office AU for red dead cause I'm a sucker for the energy of 2010’s fanfics and its tropes. Also if you want to be tagged when I post please let me know! I want to make a tag list because updates are pretty far apart!

Previous part or Next Part

The morning sun painted the town in warm hues. The men had to stop by Valentine to pick up Trelawny from the general store. Each man couldn’t help but glance at the church as they dismounted their horses. 

The sun was like a halo around the building. There was a slight movement inside the church; one of the curtains swayed. They assumed it was your room, though they had no way of knowing for sure. It was just a nice thought.

The shopkeeper greeted them, outlining the available sales and wishing them a good morning. Charles grabbed a cup of coffee while Javier picked up a bread roll and a pack of cigarettes.

Arthur decided to buy a bottle of snake oil, a health tonic, but another bottle caught his eye. Sitting in the corner of the shop was a bottle, and though he usually didn’t pay much attention to such things, today was different. He picked it up, its soft pink label catching the light. 

Philter tonic, it read, something for men to ‘get things done.’ It was strange, but something inside him clicked. Without thinking, he tucked it into his satchel. It wasn’t until later that he realized it had very little to do with stamina and a great deal with his feelings.s  

A voice caught their attention as they returned to their horses: “Mister Smith, Mister Escuella!” Each man looked over and saw you with a market bag by the butcher. 

“Good morning to you both!” you called cheerfully, though it sounded like you were trying to keep your voice light. “Will you join me for breakfast?” While your voice was cheerful. Arthur didn’t speak, his attention turning to his horse, which suddenly needed brushing. 

Remembering his dream, he wanted to turn around and say hello and adequately introduce himself, but something held him back. You were such a sight for his eyes; he felt like a schoolboy and nervous. 

Javier, ever the charmer, was the first to speak. “Ah, Buenos dias, Father (Name). No, we can’t join you today. We’ve got business to attend to.”

Your smile faltered, just for a moment, and you sighed. “Oh, I see. I wish I’d known! I would’ve made you a snack for the road.”

Charles waved his hand dismissively, insisting there was no need, but you wouldn’t hear it. “Nonsense! I enjoy providing.” You said this with such warmth that each man got a lovely treat from you for the road.

“Good morning, Father! What brings you to chat with these three degenerates?” Trelawny laughed as he placed his items into his horse's saddle. Your face showed confusion as Arthur silently cursed at Trelawny.  

You laughed softly, but there was no real humor behind it. “These fine men join me for church meals,” you explained. “I try to provide meals twice daily for those passing through or in need. Tonight, I’m planning a peach pie for dessert.” You held up your market bag, showing the small bounty inside. “As for the third, I’m not sure who you mean!” Your shoulders shrugged, glancing around for who the third person could have been. 

“Why, I mean Valentine's greatest bounty hunter!” bounty hunter? The man stood behind Javier, and Charles finally turned around with a sigh. Holding out his hand for you to shake. You introduced yourself, “Hello! I’m Father (Name)! It’s nice to meet you!” Your hand was warm and soft against Arthurs's harsher, calloused hand. The man was silent; you assumed he was shy. Such a big man being shy was a little funny to you; as you took in his features, he finally spoke, “It’s good to see you, Father (Name).” 

Your heart caught in your throat at the sound of his voice. Arthur. You had heard so much about him, felt the weight of his presence even through the veil of the confessional, but this—this was real. You held his hand a moment longer than necessary before withdrawing it, but your fingers still tingled from the contact. 

“Well,” you breathed, your voice suddenly soft. “It’s good to see you again, Mister Morgan. I wish you all a good day. Be safe out there. You all know where to find me if you ever need anything!”

The words rushed out, and before you even realized it, you were turning away, your cheeks flushed as you hurried back toward the church. Alarm bells went off in Charles and Javier's minds. Arthur had never joined them at your meals. What did you mean again? 

 Arthur stayed silent, his eyes still on the church, even as Trelawny made a joke about the odd folk of Valentine before jumping on his horse. Arthur huffed, getting on his horse and trying to ignore the prying eyes of Javier and Charles. There were bigger things to worry about than how the two of you knew each other, like not dying in Blackwater. 

You almost tripped up the stairs to the church; you couldn’t have been more awkward when finally being faced with the man who seemed to have infected you with homosexual ideations. Such a handsome man had been sitting with you in the dark and in private, teasing you. The same flutter returned to your stomach as you set everything on the kitchen counter. You must calm down before having sweet Kieran with you, probably the two of you alone. Thinking of that soft-eyed man only made your stomach flutter more. He was so eager to be there and help you.

You started cooking, wanting to do something simple to keep yourself occupied. Kieran had joined halfway through, letting you know the Dutch wanted you to visit their camp come sunset. Kieran seemed shy, keeping his distance but still wanting to be close enough to speak to you. When you served him a plate of hashbrowns and eggs, he scarfed it down with the same speed you had always seen him use. 

Kieran initially seemed hesitant, lingering a few steps away, but his eyes betrayed a desire to be near. When you served him a steaming plate of hashbrowns and eggs, he dove into the meal with an eagerness that reminded you of a long-starved animal. He ate quickly, each bite disappearing almost as soon as it touched his plate.

“Kieran, dear boy, you know you don’t have to eat so fast, right? I won't take it away, I promise!” you chuckled, trying to ease the tension in the room. Kieran paused mid-bite, scratching his beard awkwardly, revealing his nervousness. 

"I know! I, uh, I just haven’t had food for a while! And yours is so good, it tastes like home cooking!" His voice carried a hint of wonder, as if he couldn't believe this meal was indeed for him.

You reached out, your hand hovering near him in a gentle gesture. He flinched slightly, instinctively retreating before relaxing as he realized you meant no harm. Softly, you stepped closer and wrapped him in a side hug, trying to offer comfort and reassurance. 

“Aw, I’m sorry, Mister Duffy! Since it's just the two of us here, you can have all the food you want; how about that?” You smiled at him, feeling the warmth in your heart as his eyes lit up like stars against the backdrop of the kitchen's warm glow. 

“Could you keep calling me Kieran? I quite like it.” His voice was softer, almost hopeful. You laughed gently in response. “Of course I can, Kieran. Kieran. Now, let me start some more eggs for you.” The playful repetition of his name hung in the air as you stepped back to the stove to continue cooking.

He had about three more plates before finally full and seemingly tired. “Ah, Kieran, why don’t you have a nap? You can use my bed for a few hours; I'll still be here just cleaning up and preparing for dinner.” Kieran was much less shy while sleepy, as he agreed, taking off his black jacket and practically passing out once his head hit your pillow and your blanket surrounded him. 

You left your room to start on the pie; it would now be a gift for Dutch and Hosea. You weren’t sure what Dutch needed you for, but you were raised never to go to people living empty-handed.

Kieran was in heaven practically. Surrounded by your smell and in a real bed after months of sleeping on harsh ground or in awful weather. He had no idea how to thank you when he’d wake, apart from wanting to be in your bed forever and not to give in sleep so he could keep enjoying the hug of you around him. 

______

As they headed toward Blackwater, Javier’s mind wandered back to the church. The way you smiled at him that morning, that delicate look of kindness, and that softness in your eyes. He hadn’t missed how Arthur’s attention had been fixed on you, either, how he seemed to be drawn to you in a way that was hard to ignore. Javier had always been able to read people, and he knew Arthur well enough to see that there was more to that long handshake.

“Think he’s been seeing Father this whole time?” Javier asked, his voice low but teasing, his eyes watching Arthur ride ahead.

Charles, riding next to him, glanced over. “Arthur? He’s been acting funny ever since we came to Valentine. But don’t expect him to admit it. I don't know what it is about that church and him.” 

Javier gave a knowing smile. “Oh, I don’t know… I think I see it enough. What about you, Charles?”

Charles looked away quickly, trying to hide the flush creeping into his cheeks. He wasn’t one to talk about these things; it was too troublesome, but the more time he spent with Father (Name), the more he felt that same unsettling warmth stirs inside him. He wasn’t sure if it was how you treated him, so kind and attentive, or simply the pull of your presence. Either way, it made him uneasy—and yet, he couldn’t seem to shake it.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Charles replied, his voice gruff. “But maybe Arthur and I aren’t the only ones who feel it.” Javier shot him a sideways glance, his smile curling at the edges. “Oh? You, too, huh? I thought you might be the type to keep your distance, but you might be more like me than you let on.”

Charles gave him a sharp look, but Arthur called back over his shoulder before he could respond.

“Quiet down, you two,” Arthur grumbled. “We’ve got work to do.”

Javier chuckled but didn’t discuss the matter further, knowing that despite their teasing, something more profound was taking root in their little group. As they rode through the landscape, maybe the others felt it as well. Javier didn’t mind competition at all, or even teammates, for that matter. 

__________

The smell of peaches and cinnamon filled the church. After another half hour in the oven, you would take the pie out to cool properly. But for now, you have a new task at hand. The door to your room creaked softly as you checked on Kieran, who snored softly as you entered. You noticed the holes in Kieran's jacket and wanted to mend them as a surprise. With your needle ready, you took his coat in your hands and settled into the rocking chair you kept in your room. You rarely used it, being so busy running around, but lately, Father Gavin and the Sisters had taken on more work, lightening your load.

As you began to sew, the gentle rocking of the chair faded from your mind. Numerous tiny tears in the jacket along the back and elbows indicated that Kieran had greatly cherished it. Once the jacket was finally finished, you snuck out of the room, careful not to wake the poor man; he seemed to need the rest. Fresh from the oven, the pie smelled even better than you had hoped. Setting it on the counter, you felt a wave of tiredness wash over you. Finding tasks was more exhausting than simply checking off items from a list.

You reentered your room. Your bed was big enough for the two of you, but it felt very forward. What if you joined Kieran, and he saw it as an insult? What if he went off and told the entire town that the Priest was a pervert? The thought shook you to your core. 

Fearing the possibility, you approached the bed, glancing at Kieran's sleeping face and gently shaking him awake. Kieran's eyes were half-lidded as he complained about being woken up. "Kieran, I’m getting exhausted, too. Would you mind if I joined you?” Your heart raced as his eyes widened. "Of course not! It’s your bed after all, please—" Lifting the blanket, Kieran invited you in. 

You could feel your face flushing now, the reality of sharing a bed setting in more and more. You hadn’t shared a bed with anyone since childhood and would beg your mom or dad to let you sleep with them after a nightmare. 

Sliding in next to Kieran, you could feel how warm the man was, which made you even more tired. Subconsciously backing into his body as you drifted to sleep, Kieran felt very awake now, not realizing what he had agreed to. 

You were flush against him, and Kieran was mortified that you could feel his shaking. But your breathing slowed down, and hesitantly, Kieran wrapped an arm around you. His hand rests against your chest, feeling your heartbeat. His face is pressed in your hair, breathing in the smell. 

He felt like a pervert, but what other time could he be this close to you? When else could he be in your bed WITH you after being fed a full meal? 

It was like he was still dreaming. 

Kieran remained awake for the next hour as the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting a warm, golden hue across the room. He held you close, feeling your chest's gentle rise and fall as you breathed peacefully beside him. He found comfort in the rhythmic sound of your breath. 

Kieran stretched his arm out, his hand moving to your shoulder, shaking you awake. You groaned, rubbing your eyes as you took in the sight of a sun-kissed Kieran. 

He looked very handsome in the soft light. Shaking the thought from your head, the two of you sat up. Not wanting to leave the warmth of the bed, Dutch had asked for you, so you needed to show. Slipping your shoes back on, unhitched your horses and made your way to this camp, peach pie in hand. 

Stepping into the campground, you were greeted by the number of tents and cases of whiskey and beer. 

You held out the pie you made to Dutch as he greeted you. “Now, what's this?” he asked, admiring the braided crust you had made. 

“I made peach pie! I didn't want to come empty-handed!” You smiled very nervously, wondering why Dutch needed to speak with you.

“My that's very sweet of you! Please set it down there; I've been meaning to ask something of you.” Kieran was pulled away from your side by Mary-Beth and sent you an apologetic look. 

In your nerves, you didn't hear the sound of horses pulling into camp. Or the wolf whistle aimed at you when you leaned over the long table to place the pie in the middle. Cursing yourself for forgetting cutting tools and maybe even a plate. What you did notice was the harsh smack on your ass. You yelped, and a loud voice behind you spoke. 

“What's this?! For my return, you've all gotten Ol’ MacGuire a lady for the night!” your head whipped around to see just in time as he pulled this new man back by his collar by Arthur. 

“That's a damn priest, you moron!” Arthur growls, yanking the man to the side as the sting in your ass begins to fade. Trying to maintain your composure. 

“What sorta god gives a lad such an ass?!” The man's face was pale in horror as he finally realized you weren't a woman in a dress but a man in a priest's garb. Javier had a slight grin, and Charles walked over, “That's Sean MacGuire; I'm sorry about that…” 

“It’s uh okay! Just wasn’t ready for that.” You tried to laugh it off, but his words stuck to your mind. Was it a compliment to have a good ass? What even made a good ass in the first place? Your hand went to rub the dull ache.  

Your thoughts stopped as Dutch directed you to hear a speech by Sean. 

“Mr.MacGuire is back, everyone! Let’s have ourselves a party!” There were a few cheers as the man stood on a soap box, already swaying. 

“Uncle Sean is back! Don’t you worry, Mrs. Grimshaw. I’ll keep the girls in line. If I have to whip them, I will!” A few girls yelled back, and the older woman you assumed was Grimshaw yelled, ‘Someone has to!’ 

Slowly, you felt Dutch rest his hand on the small part of your back. You tried to think nothing of it; surely, in front of 20-odd people, Dutch wouldn’t attempt to follow in Sean’s footsteps of assaulting your ass. 

“And don’t you worry, Mr Pearson, you drunk ol’ shit bag, it’ll be nothing but the FINEST! game in the pot now dead eye MacGuire is back!” You heard a few chuckles as Sean made a slight shooting motion. In Dutch’s laughter, he pulled you closer at the waist. No one else was paying attention, but it felt like, at any moment, one of the women in front of you could turn and see how close Dutch was holding you. 

“And don’t worry about nothing, Mrs. Grimshaw. We will have this running like clockwork. I love you bastards. Have fun…Have lots of fun!” 

Sean stepped off of the box and took a step toward Arthur. “Even you, you grumpy old bastard Arthur!” Arthur shook his head. Dutch’s arm slid away from your waist slowly and deliberately as he grabbed your shoulder to face him. " Would you like to join the festivities? There's plenty of room for one more.” 

“Sure! I hate to say I don’t drink much, but I’m sure I can find something to do!” Dutch smiled, turning away to put on music from his gramophone. 

_____________

“Do you know how to dance, Father (Name)?” Mary-Beth asked, her eyes sparkling with curiosity as she stood at the entrance of Dutch’s tent. The late afternoon sun cast a warm glow around her, highlighting the excitement etched across her features.

With a grin, you extended your hand toward her. “I know enough to seem impressive,” you replied, your voice light and playful. A soft giggle escaped her lips as she took your hand. Slightly bowing together, you began to sway rhythmically beneath the tent's shade. With each movement, you added small, flamboyant spins and twirls that elicited more laughter from her, making her smile even brighter. 

Mary Beth touched your shoulder before saying, “It seems like someone else wants a dance.” You spun Mary-Beth to peak at who she was referring to. From the corner of your eye, you could see Arthur. Who was looking down at his boots and trying to hide that his eyes were staring at the two of you?

”Oh! Well, I’ll let you go to dance with him!” Mary Beth rolled her eyes, and as you bowed, she whispered, “No! He wants to dance with you, and he’s just too. Shy!” Mary-Beth stepped away and held her hand out to offer you, in a way. Your face flushed as Arthur cleared his throat behind you. He took your hand, and you felt breathless, “Is this okay?” For two men to be so close, for two men to slow dance, especially in front of others. 

His hand rested on your waist. “You think this is the worst thing this group of fellas has seen?” Your hand rested on his shoulder with a sigh. A bit of relief washed over you as you swayed to the music. But you were still tense. While these men may not stone you, God could still see you. He could see your flushed face at a simple dance.

Your hand intertwined with Arthurs. Your skin felt hot, and the sway with Mary Beth felt much smoother. But your anxiety keeps you stiff. Arthur was much closer as well, feeling the brush of his stomach against yours; you could feel his belt buckle press into you.

Your mind swirled faster than you could process; he was so close, so very close. Memories of your conversations began flooding back into your mind. You longed to hold Arthur, to look into his eyes that had witnessed horrors beyond your lifetime. You felt giddy now that he was there, lightly twirling you to the music. 

You glanced at Dutch, dancing with a redheaded woman, giggling and smiling. You sighed, relieved. With Arthur’s comment, this must mean Dutch is just exceptionally sociable! Arthur dipped you, causing you to laugh. 

As the music swelled around you, the world outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you. Arthur’s grip tightened slightly as he pulled you closer, his face drawing near. You could see the playful glimmer in his eyes, mirroring the warmth in your heart.

Arthur’s lips curled into a gentle smile, and the world around you felt still momentarily. “Maybe we can find a place where we can be alone,” his tone earnest. As the promise hung between you, you felt nervous all over again. Alone, and then what? What did the two of you want so badly, but it could only happen alone?

“Just relax,” he murmured, his breath brushing against your ear. You nodded, forcing yourself to let go of the tension that had been building. His confident yet tender movement made your heartbeat quicken. Each twirl and sway felt like some sort of storybook.

You felt his hand slip slightly lower on your waist, grounding you. Something was intoxicating about being so near him, the heat from his body mingling with the late afternoon sun that bathed you both in its golden light. With every dip and turn, it felt as though God had conspired to give you just this moment.

“Who’s this Arthur?” The voice was harsh and raspy 

“This is Father (Name), John. It's great to see you back up and moving, Marston.” You stopped dancing but still held each other as you looked at John. The man stood sideways, a bottle in his hand. His eyes scanned your body. You noticed the deep scar on his face; it looked fresh, still pink and red. 

“Are you that whorish priest everyone was talking about?” 

“Whore?! What on earth are you talking about?” Arthur released you, grabbing John by the arm and leading him toward the edge of the camp near the cliff. Whore? Is that why you were wanted here? Your throat began to burn as you glanced around the camp. Sean's comment echoed in your mind—arthurs suggestion about being alone together. 

A few people glanced in your direction as you turned to the horses. You spotted Hosea reading by the light of a lantern next to a crate of bottles. You didn’t want to use the whiskey for comfort; that felt wrong. However, your embarrassment took over, and you grabbed one of the tan glass bottles. Hosea looked up and greeted you with a friendly hello.

“Hi, Mister Matthews. Please excuse me,” you stammered as you walked toward the horses. Kieran brushed your horse's mane, smiling until he noticed your anger.

“Father, is everything okay?” His voice was filled with concern.

“I’m just fine, Mister Duffy; if you please, I must leave.” Kieran winced at your use of his last name, and you paused, not wanting to take your frustration out on him.

The rumors about you being a "floozy priest" weren’t new. Tales began to spread when you started working at Valentine and meeting people. Being so young and new to a cattle town didn’t earn you much respect. People were eager to judge, especially when you were just trying to do your job—feeding the hungry and providing clothes and blankets to those in need.

But you did it all privately.

That privacy started the rumors, so you focused more on community-based helping. They were kept in the confessional booth if things had to remain secret.

“Is that what you folks think of me? Am I just some whore for you to laugh at?” Kieran's eyes went wide, and his hands tightened around your saddle.

“No! No, no, of course not! Who told you such a thing?” You tore the lid off the whiskey bottle. It tasted like caramel and honey but burned your throat as you took a gulp.

You caught sight of John and Arthur walking back toward you, their silhouettes becoming clearer against the lowering sun. Arthur, sounding exasperated, said, “Father (Name), this fool is drunk and duller than rust. Don’t take his words to heart, please.”

You coughed roughly, the burn in your throat intensifying as you processed Arthur's words. “Words always start somewhere, Mister Morgan,” you replied, trying to mask the discomfort in your chest.

Kieran shifted his weight, noticing your unease. He’d never seen you mad or annoyed, nor had anyone else. As you mounted the saddle, he wrapped his arms around your waist, pausing your ascent. You felt the solid strength of his grip for someone who looked like he might fly away in the wind—he was surprisingly strong.

“Honest, Father (Name), we don’t think of you as a whore! We know you’re a good man! A great man, please!” You groaned as Arthur pulled you down. Feet back on the ground, you noticed John, still drunk, staring at the sky to avoid eye contact. Arthur hit the man’s shoulder. “Look, Father (Name). I’m sure you’re not a whore. Rumors are the devil…and what have you.” 

You rolled your eyes. Sure, the words “I’m sorry” didn’t leave his lips, but you assumed this was the best you would get. The large gulp of whiskey began to warm you to your core. A fool's words are worth less than half your thoughts if he truly is a fool. “Bah. I suppose I’ll take it. You’re forgiven, Mister Marston. Just watch yourself from now on.” Your mind started to wander as you walked back into camp and heard a soft strumming. Accompanying it was a voice you knew all too well, singing in Spanish.

_______________

"Angel de amor, no comprendo tu pasión." (Angel of love, I don't understand your passion.) You turned the corner and saw Javier sitting with a very disinterested Tilly. However, Tilly perked up at your sight and waved her hand to call you over. You took the spot where Tilly had been sitting as she stood up. “I’ve been needing to use the restroom for the last half hour, but I didn’t want to be rude!” she whispered before scampering away, leaving you comfortable on the carpet.

Javier's strumming continued: “Si la comprendo, no la puedo expresar.” (If I understand it, I cannot express it.)You vaguely understood as he sang, trying to drown out the singing from the large fire across the camp.

“Voy a esconder, tu lánguido gemido alla en la tumba para poder descansar.” (I’m going to hide your weak moan there in the grave so I can rest.) You were mindful to keep the bottle in your hand and limit yourself from just sipping from now on. But the drink still burned as it went down, causing you to groan. 

“Yo no siento el que me hayas querido.” (I no longer feel that you love me) Javier's eyes were closed as he sang, “Yo no siento el que me hayas amado.” (I no longer feel that I was once beloved)

“Solo siento que me hayas combiado hombre mama inferior que yo.” (I’m sorry you changed me into a man inferior to who I am) Javier held the note, singing the rest of the song much softer as it ended. You hummed, “What a sad song, Javier. It’s beautiful, though.” You held out the bottle of whiskey, and a look of surprise took over his face.

”I thought men like you weren't allowed to indulge Father (Name). You said you don’t even like people who drink.” He took the bottle from your hand and stared intensely at the lip of the bottle. 

“Yeah, well, sometimes you gotta be a fool and repent the next day.” You felt so warm as Javier took a slow drink from the bottle. “Plus, I don’t hate people that drink. It’s just a vice that makes men the most stupid.”

Your eyes were focused on his lips wrapped around the bottle. Was he savoring the taste? It was sweet, but the burn overwhelmed the flavor before it settled. Finally handing the bottle back to you, Javier grinned, “I’m trying to taste more than just the whiskey, Father (Name).” 

Your mind went blank trying to process what he said. But he began to strum again, this time with a much more upbeat rhythm. “Besame, besame mucho.” (Kiss me, kiss me a lot). You swirled the bottle in your hand, feeling the weight of the liquid shift in the bottle. 

“Como. si fuera esta noche la ultima vez” (as if tonight was the last night) 

”Besame besame mucho.Que tengo miedo a perderte, perderte despues.” (I’m afraid of losing, losing you later.)His gaze met yours, steady and unwavering. You took another sip from the bottle in the same spot Javier had taken his sip.

”quiero tenerte muy cerca. Mirarme en tus ojos, estar junto ati.” (I want to have you very close. Look into your eyes and be next to you) You leaned on your hand, watching Javier leaning closer, still playing. The song made less and less sense, and your mind could not keep up and translate what little you would understand sober. Was whiskey supposed to be this strong? 

”Piensa que tal vez mañana. Estaré muy lejos, muy lejos de aquí.” (I’m thinking tomorrow we can be very, very far from here.) Javier was very close, and the smell of the whiskey was strong on both of your breaths. “I’m not sure if I should be so close to you, Father…” his tone teased as you realized just how alone the two of you were. No one was walking by but a very drunk Karen whose mission was not to watch the two of you.

The strumming had stopped; you two were very close. Javier closed his eyes for a second, collecting himself. Your noses touched; you didn’t want to fight it anymore.

“Father (Name)! I want to talk to ya!” you pulled away with a gasp, feeling your heart pound in your chest. Javier let out a low groan, taking the hat off of his head and running his hands through his hair. He was frustrated but trying to keep himself composed. “Sean… you couldn’t have waited? We are in the middle of something important.” Sean stood with a hand on his hip, slightly swaying.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Just let me get a word in, eh? It’s not tha best time, but I gotta clear the air here, Father. Do ya mind?” Not waiting for a response, Sean grabbed your arm, guiding you away from Javier. You dusted off the skirt of your cassock, trying not to glance back at Javier's longing eyes. Sean took you near the horses just past the fence into the wooded area. Your body still tingled from the closeness you just had with Javier.

“Look, Father (Name); I just want ta say sorry for smacking you on tha arse. Honest to god, I thought you were a lass to accompany me for the night!” a nervous grin spread across his face. “I didn’t mean ta come off all brash.” there was still sway in Sean's stance, but much less than earlier. Sean held out the whiskey bottle he was drinking and held it to your lips, tilting it for you.

“It was an honest mistake, Mister Macguire! I was more surprised you commented on it at all.” You laughed as Sean's face held a confused expression. “I mean, you can’t much tell cause of da skirt, but” his hands reached for the loose cloth, handing you the half-full whiskey bottle.

He pulled the fabric forward, your body flush against him as the skirt now did nothing to hide your ass. That was some sort of marvel to behold. Sean's head was over your shoulder, staring. “Ah! Now, would ya look at that! Magnificent! Like tha peaks of the Derryveagh!”

Perhaps you were some whore, because instead of breaking away, you only yelped at the exposure. “Is.. is that good?” “You’re damn right. It's good! Please allow me.” You weren’t sure why Sean would ask permission but did what he wanted anyway, but there was no point bringing it up now as his hands groped your ass.

“Much more than a handful; this is what any man dreams of! If ya start showing off more, I think more people would stop by for Sunday service!” Sean howled with laughter, still holding your ass. You could feel Sean’s hard-on pressed into your thigh. Close contact with a man you didn’t know beyond his name felt much more manageable on your nerves than your almost kiss with Javier.

“That’ll get ya warmed up for ol’ Javier; I tell ya, I’m a bit jealous whoever gets the peak at ya first! Unless you’re willing to wait for Mr.Macguire.” You whined at his words; no one other than Arthur had been this close to you physically or spoke to you like this before. His hands mushed the fat on your ass one last time before letting go and stumbling back to camp, talking to himself about Macguire Junior not being ready for all that.

Your breathing came out in huffs. Taking the momentary alone time to breathe. The cold air hardly phased you. The whiskey is in full swing, keeping you warm and fuzzy. “Hey there.” You leaped a foot in the air. Charles emerged from outside of the camp, holding a rifle in his hands.

“Mister Smith! We must stop meeting like this.” your heart pounded. Charles laughed lightly, moving closer. “Why aren’t you at the party? They have you on patrol duty?” You adjusted your skirt; Sean left it very wrinkled with his grabbing.

“No, I just leave the parting to the professionals.” Charles rested the gun, the barrel aimed at the ground. You hummed softly to yourself, your gaze fixed on the vibrant tapestry of trees surrounding you. Suddenly, a flash of movement caught your eye—a small rabbit darting through the underbrush, desperate to escape the sharp pursuit of a fox. You felt a pang of sympathy for the vulnerable creature. “Aww, poor thing,” you murmured, shaking your head.

Standing beside you, Charles chuckled lightly, his voice laced with an edge. “Looks familiar,” he remarked, a knowing glint in his dark eyes. You couldn’t help but let out a nervous laugh, shaking your head slightly. “I’m not sure what you mean, Mister Smith,” you replied, meeting his gaze.

Charles took a deep breath, the sound almost reverberating in the stillness of the forest. You leaned against a tree, crickets chirping as you revealed in the calm. “I tried the pie you made; it was great. I have never had one like it before.” Before you could stop, a big smile took over your face.

“That makes me very happy to hear about Mister Smith. I spent a lot of the day working on it!”

Charles inched closer, the subtle heat of his presence sending a thrill down your spine. “Oh, I could tell,” he said, his words sliding smoothly into your ear like a secret. “The crust was perfect, but what really got to me…” He let his arm brush against yours, just the slightest touch, but it was enough to send a shiver through you. “I could taste you in it.”

A surge of warmth bloomed in your chest, spreading like wildfire. Goosebumps danced across your skin, your pulse quickening. The words you had once playfully spoken to Javier echoed back in your mind, uncomfortably vivid.

“I’m sure that pie tastes much better than me,” you laughed nervously, but the sound was shaky, vulnerable. “I probably just taste like skin and sweat.”

And sin, you thought, the word lingering on your tongue, burning in your chest. If there was a test of your devotion, you knew right then you had failed it, miserably. The temptation was overwhelming, and you could feel it, as undeniably palpable as the heat rising between you.

Charles reached out, cupping your face, and you happily leaned into his strong hand. He pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Maybe when you’re sober, we’ll have this conversation, rather (Name). I want you to remember.” These were the most words you’ve heard Charles speak since meeting him. Your eyes studied his face. You couldn’t tell by his face alone, but he was nervous.

“I’ll be much too nervous without the whiskey, Mister Smith. You’re much too handsome.” Your speech was more slurred than you would’ve liked. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, and his other hand toys with the gun barrel to keep busy.

You stood up, no longer leaning against the tree for support. You realized Sean’s bottle was still in your hand and took another sip. You should probably return it to him.

“Sean might be a loudmouth bastard, but this is one thing he and I can agree on.” Charles leads you up the small hill back to camp, his hand very low on your back. You assumed he meant you ass but just didn’t want to say that out loud.

Charles bit you a goodnight, walking back into the wooded area; your eyes caught Hosea still at the table; your legs were aching, so why not sit?

“Good evening, Mister Matthews!” You settled onto the wooden stool, the whiskey bottle resting beside you. Hosea looked up, a warm smile spreading across his face as he set aside the paper he’d been reading. “You’re awful chipper, Father (Name). Glad to see you better from earlier.” You chuckled, remembering how dramatic you’d felt. With a soft sigh, your hand rested against your palm, taking in Hosea's relaxed demeanor. “I’m too old for this, Mister Matthews,” you admitted, stretching your back. “I should have gotten this energy out 20 years ago. Not when my back hurts from even just sitting wrong.”

Hosea laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners, radiating warmth and familiarity. He placed a supportive hand on your shoulder, the warmth of his touch sending a comforting flutter through you, almost like a gentle spark igniting something deep within. With a slight grin, he held out a small, weathered bottle toward you. “Homemade tonic. Trust me, you’re going to feel it tomorrow,” he said, his voice filled with a teasing undertone.

The bottle was unmarked, its surface smooth yet slightly worn from years of handling, hinting at the loving care that went into its creation. As you accepted it, a rush of gratitude surged through you, and your heart swelled just a bit. You met his gaze, finding reassurance in his warm brown eyes. “Thank you, Mister Matthews. I'll be sure to keep this on me,” you replied, tucking the bottle safely into your pocket.

“You’ve still got some youth left in you, Father," he continued a hint of mischief in his tone. “Giving up all those freedoms so young was bound to catch up with you at some point.”

You chuckled, then sighed, “It's funny. I thought I was BLESSED by Jesus Christ not to have sex matter to me. Never interested in women, just focused on God!” The laughter dissipated into a groan as you pressed your face into your hand, overwhelmed by the weight of your emotions. Hosea chuckled softly, patting your shoulder in a comforting gesture.

“I thought I was different from everyone else, that I was…special, capable of helping people find solace within the church.” This admission made you feel vulnerable, and you slumped against the table—the wooden surface, cool against your skin, grounding you amidst the swirling thoughts.

“You’re plenty special, Father (Name). Look around—you’ve got a group of outlaws clamoring to be in a church!” Hosea’s voice was gentle yet encouraging, his hand now gingerly rubbing your back. The scent of peppermint lingered in the air as he leaned closer, adding to the warmth of his presence.

He described Arthur, sharing tales of how he used to be much more argumentative and brash. “But since he first wandered off to see you, he’s changed. He’s been throwing himself into camp chores, even showing kindness to everyone around him. Just the other day, he went out of his way to get young Lenny a pocket watch after the poor boy lost his old one,” Hosea recounted; his admiration for Arthur is evident in his tone.

A sense of pride and purpose puffed up as you listened. Yeah, you were helping someone be better. Sure, it was an outlaw who still did the jobs he needed to survive, but as a person, he was seemingly better. Of course, Arthur told you this himself, but the confirmation was just as lovely.

You looked at tha table and saw that the pie you had brought was almost completely gone, a smile tugged at your lips. Hoping everyone was able to get a taste before it ran out. Turning your attention back to Hosea, you noticed his silver hair looked incredibly soft in the light. “He even went hunting with me to get a 1000-pound bear.” You sat up, staring at Hosea with wide eyes, “No kidding, you went out to catch a bear that big!” Hosea got a puff in his chest, “Sure did! It’s not the first time I stared death in the eye, and just like any other, I did not falter.”

You stared at Hosea in awe, imagining him taking on such a large bear. “I didn’t know I’d been in the presence of such an amazing hunter. Did you end up killing this bear?” The prideful look on Hosea's face remained as he let out a confident nope! “But I and Arthur scared it away back into the woods.” you laughed at the story and yourself for believing it. “You’re too funny, Mister Matthews, quite the silver tongue. I imagine you’ve gotten many people under your spell with that.” You stoop up from the stool, feeling much better. “What category can I put you under?” Hosea's hand grabbed yours, stopping you before stepping away.

You lifted Hosea's hands to your lips, “I am utterly bewitched.” pressing a kiss to his thinner hand, you walked toward the small scout's fire, spotting Kieran.

“Mind if I sit with you?” Kieran looked at you nervously before scooting over. Your mind still buzzed as you stared at the fire. “I’m sorry about getting aggressive with you, Kieran. I just thought those rumors were behind me now.” Kieran stared up at you, watching you intently as you sat on your knees next to him, taking his hands in yours, “Could you find it in your heart to forgive me?”

Kieran's face flushed, the sight of you on your knees and the warmth of your hands wrapping around his. Even just the fact that you were apologizing made him stir below the belt. “It’s okay, Father (Name). I, uh, I’m sure no one would be too happy to be called a whore, least of all you .” you sniffled, feeling very overwhelmed again. You pulled your hands from his, reaching up instead to cup his face, the roughness of his beard grazing your palms. The sensation was grounding, and you felt a surprising sense of comfort. “You’ll let me make it up to you?”

His breath hitched, his eyes searching yours for any sign of doubt, but all he found was a quiet, steady resolve. “I’d like that,” he replied, his voice soft but earnest. His face is bright red as you lean in closer to him.

“I just want to make things right with you.” His breathing mixed with yours

And then, without a word, his lips brushed against yours. You froze for a heartbeat, feeling the softness of his kiss, before your lips responded, deepening the kiss. His hand moved to cup the back of your neck, bringing you closer as the kiss grew more urgent, more frantic. You could feel the heat of his touch seeping into your skin, but you couldn’t feel anything else; the world around you seemed to fade until all that remained was the press of his lips against yours.

You melted into him, your hands finding their way into his hair, pulling him closer. His usual hat fell off of his head. It was slow and tender at first, but the more you kissed him, the less you worried about your lack of experience, just needing to feel him against you. The warmth of his body was the same as when you slept next to each other. So comforting.

When the kiss finally broke, both of you were breathless, your foreheads pressed together as you tried to catch your breath. His hands rested gently on your waist, and you couldn’t help but smile, but before you could say something, a familiar smell of a cigar was in the air.

“Kieran, my boy, would you mind checking on The Count? Somethings got him agitated.”

Kieran muttered something under his breath, but he nodded. “Right, Dutch. I’ll do that.”

He turned back to you, offering a small, apologetic smile. "I’ll be right back," he murmured, as if he were torn between staying and doing his duty. His eyes held yours for a moment longer before he stood, his hands slipping from your waist with reluctance.

You watched him go, your knees beginning to ache from the position. "Well, well…" Dutch’s smooth, low voice seemed to hang in the air. You looked up to find him leaning against a nearby boulder, his gaze fixed on you with amusement. His smile was sly, almost predatory. "Seems like you’ve got the boy all worked up, don’t you?"

“My mind got away from me. Uh could you help me up?” You held your hands out, the ache worsening. He casually pushed off the rock, his boots crunching on the ground as he stepped toward you. His presence was commanding in an unsettling and captivating way.

"Oh, I think this arrangement is just fine," he said, his tone dropping slightly, its weight on your shoulders. His eyes flickered to your lips before meeting your gaze again. “There’s something about you, isn’t there? Something... irresistible. Something just real special about you. Your attention, has all my men whipped.” His eyes trailed over your face, lingering on your lips, then meeting your eyes again with a fire in his gaze. "You know, Kieran’s a good kid. But I can’t help but wonder... does he know what he’s gotten into?"

Some of you still felt uncomfortable with how effortlessly he said these things. You couldn’t deny that Dutch’s charisma was magnetic, but you weren’t sure where it was all going. "He knows, I think; I’m not even sure I know," you replied, your voice steady, though you felt the heat of his stare still lingering on you. You groaned, the locking of your knees almost becoming unbearable.

Dutch’s smile grew a little wider, a glint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "Well, that’s good," he said, stepping even closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Because I’d hate to think he’s got a monopoly on you." His hand brushed lightly against your arm, his fingers grazing your skin in a touch that was all too deliberate as he helped you up finally. "Dutch, don’t start some odd competition about me."

He chuckled darkly, leaning just a little closer, the warmth of his presence almost overwhelming now. "Oh, I never start something I don’t intend to finish, darling," he said, his voice low and playful. "But that’s a story for another time, I suppose."

The air between you seemed to crackle with tension. The firelight danced off his face as he stepped back, his eyes never leaving yours. Your mind returned to the redheaded woman he had been dancing and smiling with just hours earlier. Why would he speak to you like this?

Dutch gave you a final knowing look before he straightened up, brushing a hand through his hair. “Well, I’ll leave you to your thoughts. But just know this—if you ever want to talk more... you know where to find me.” Your knees popped as you stretched, the pain subsiding slowly.

You saw Arthur stepping out of a tent. He nodded his head to you, and you walked over, hearing strumming again. Kieran followed behind you, now wearing the jacket that you had mended. The night had to be nearing an end as you saw all three women fast asleep, two men you hadn’t run into snoring next to Hosea, who was still reading by low light.

The singing was lovely as you approached the fire. Kieran guided your ever-swaying bottle to sit on the log without falling. Sean’s voice was quite pleasant as he sang with an older man you didn’t get the name of.

You didn’t try to hear the song's words; the fire was so bright you kept your eyes shut, letting it go through one ear out of the other. Kieran hummed the song next to you, and Arthur’s voice joined for a few lines, the whiskey letting you forget for a moment that each man had heard those rumors about you. You smiled as the song came to an end. You wanted nothing more than to lie down in your bed. Like your pillows and blankets called your name.

Your eyes were half-lidded. “I should head home now,” you smiled at Kieran, going to stand. “Thank you for having me; I've never had a night like this.”

Arthurs's hand pressed into your chest, stopping your walking. “I think it's safer for you to sleep here for the night. Yer vulnerable out there this late, drunk.” you scoffed, turning to face Arthur. “Am I that much safer here?” one of Arthur's hands went to his waist, asking just what you meant by that.

“You all invited me here, t—to make me impure! Other than dear Kieran here.” Your hand reached for Kieran's head, clumsily petting his head and mumbling about his hair being soft. Which Kieran slightly revealed in the public display of tenderness.

“Next time yer here, we aren't givin' you whiskey. Seems not to let you think properly.” Arthur huffed, holding your collar to stop your attempts to walk away.

“I’m thinking more clearly than ever, Mister Morgan!” you exclaimed, struggling to break free from Arthur’s grip as you cast your gaze downward, feeling the weight of embarrassment. He held on firmly, not letting you retreat.

“We don’t believe that (Name). It was just some gossip the girls picked up from town, and trust me, they didn’t take it seriously either,” Arthur replied, his eyes softening as he studied your downcast face, betraying the effort you were making to hold back tears.

To him, your expression resembled that of a puppy being picked up by the scruff of its neck. A deep sigh escaped his lips as he realized how much this affected you. “Look, we know you’re a man of the cloth,” he said, his tone more reassuring now. “So just take it easy! We’re bad men, not evil.” You sighed; his words didn’t quite sink in with your state, and you still felt vulnerable.

“If you need to be home that badly, we will take you.” His warmth was as comforting as that sleepy feeling.

The next chapter is a choose-your-own-adventure! if you want the updates as they're posted, head to my Ao3! or if you want them all at once, they will be posted soon!

[0o-junebug-o0]

OH OH OH how about a coffee shop/bookstore date like reader is new to town and Spencer decides to take them out to his favorite book shop and coffee shop (gn reader if possible:3)

Ways to Say "I Love You"

thank you so much for the request! I had a blast writing this

spencer reid x gn!reader (no use of y/n)

cw: nothing, just pure fluff

wordcount: 2.6k

You pace in circles around your living room, avoiding the boxes still piled up along the walls. You’ve been here two months already, but starting as a new professor and researcher at Georgetown has kept you so busy you simply haven’t had time to finish unpacking. You suppose you could do it now, a distraction would probably help your nerves, but you’d rather continue with your circles. 

You check your watch. You have six minutes until Spencer will be here. He always arrives exactly on time, never early or late if he can help it. You take a deep breath. “It’s just a date,” you whisper to yourself. “No expectations. Just have fun.” You know you will but your heart is beating so fast and hard that you can feel it in your chest. 

To be honest, you don’t know why you’re so nervous. You’ve known Spencer for years. You met at CalTech in your freshman year of undergrad while he was finishing up his third PhD and you’ve kept in touch through letters and occasional visits ever since. He even flew out to watch your thesis defense. 

You’ve loved Spencer for nearly as long as you’ve known him and the fact that he asked you out is like a dream come true but you can’t help but worry that he’ll realize he made a mistake.

A knock at the door startles you from your thoughts and you almost trip over a box. You glance down at your watch. It’s two o’clock exactly and you can’t help but wonder how long Spencer waited outside your apartment door before knocking. You take a deep breath and run your hands down the front of your shirt, smoothing down any wrinkles in the fabric, before making your way to the door.

You will your shaking hands to be still as you unlock the door and pull it inwards. Your jaw nearly drops at the sight of Spencer. He’s dressed how he usually is, looking as good as always, but he’s wearing his glasses and smiling softly at you, a nervous flush on his cheeks. He holds a bouquet of flowers in his right hand. The bouquet is made of three types of flowers. You recognize the sunflowers and daffodils, but not pale purple, pinwheel-like ones.

“Oh, Spencer, thank you!” you say, taking the bouquet as he hands it to you. You bury your nose in the flowers and smell them with a smile. “This is lovely! Come in while I put these in some water.”

You step aside and Spencer slips awkwardly into your apartment. 

“Ignore all the boxes,” you laugh. “I’ve been too busy to finish unpacking.”

He nods, looking around your apartment as he follows you into the kitchen. He seems twice as nervous as you are. 

“Can you hold this for me for a moment?” you ask, holding out the bouquet. He nods and takes it from your hands. You turn around and climb onto the counter to reach the empty vase you’d placed on top of the cabinets once the housewarming flowers your parents sent you had died. You slide off the counter and head over to the sink to rinse off any dust. 

You dry the outside of the vase with a dishtowel before filling it halfway with water. You set the vase on the small dining table pressed against the wall. “So, where are you planning on taking me?" you ask, taking the bouquet from Spencer and slipping it into the vase. 

“There’s a nice little bookstore and coffee shop right next door to each other not far from here. I was thinking we could go there if that’s alright.”

You smile at him, his obvious nervousness making yours fade. “That sounds great,” you say. “But first, now that our hands are free, can I give you a hug?”

Spencer nods and pulls you into a tight hug, resting his face in the crook of your neck. You’ve always loved his hugs, they make you feel safe and loved. And knowing that you could probably count on your hands the number of people Spencer feels comfortable hugging makes it feel that much more special.”

“I’ve missed you,” you whisper.

“We saw each other last week,” Spencer says, sounding confused.

You chuckle and end the hug. “I know, but it still feels like it’s been years.”

Spencer’s brow furrows. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“I’m just saying that because we saw each other so rarely before I moved here I still feel like I haven’t spent enough time with you now that I am here. Like I need to make up for it. I can still miss you even if I’m close by,” you tease.

“Oh, then I missed you too.” 

You chuckle lightly and pat him on the shoulder. “Alright then, Spence, take me to that bookstore.”

________________

The walk wasn’t a long one and with the nice spring weather and catching up with Spencer, it almost felt like it went by too fast.

“This is it,” Spencer says, stopping in front of a cafe. 

You look at him confused. “I thought we were going to the bookstore first.”

“We are,” he says with a smile. He reaches his hand out toward yours and after a brief moment of hesitation, takes your hand in his. You can feel yourself blush and wonder if you're as flushed as Spencer. 

He guides you toward a small alleyway about three feet wide with a cat sleeping on a book painted on the ground and leads you down it. The alley curves to the right and then back to the left and at the end is a little courtyard and an old brick building. There are stacks of books on and under a wooden table at the side of the courtyard, shaded from the sun by an awning that extends from the wall of the neighboring building. Along the back of the cafe are three small tables with two chairs each and along the third side is a small garden filled with wildflowers native to the DC area. 

A large window covers the front wall of the book store and there’s a classy-looking decal of the same image on the alley floor a sign that says “Alleycat Books”. The view inside the store is mostly blocked by stacks of books but through the gaps, you can see shelves stretching along the walls from floor to ceiling and multiple shelves in the middle of the room, all filled to the brim with books.

You look around the courtyard in awe. 

“Spencer, this is amazing!”

He smiles at you, his nose scrunching up adorably. “I’m glad you like it. But the inside is even better.”

You laugh as he leads you to the door and opens it for you with an awkward little bow. He’s right, the inside is better. It looks almost magical. Floor-to-ceiling shelves cover every inch of the side and back walls. About fifteen feet away from you, halfway across the room, another floor-to-ceiling shelf with gaps on either side acts as a divider. Two rows of three shoulder-height shelves with gaps between each of them fill the ten-foot width of the room in front of the dividing shelf and based on the line of sight you have through the gaps of the divider, the same seems to be true on the other side. A woman greets us from a small desk in the corner as we enter and Spencer waves awkwardly at her as you nod your head in greeting. 

“The sci-fi section’s over here,” Spencer says, leading you to the back half of the room. “I know it’s your favorite genre.”

You laugh and nod, tilting your head to read the titles of the books. Spencer laughs softly as you start to tilt your whole body to read the names of the books on the lower shelves. 

“I’m going to look in the poetry section,” Spencer says. 

You nod in response, your upper body still tilted almost horizontal. You hear his footsteps retreat to the opposite side of the divider. You stand to see where he ended up and can’t help but laugh when you see his hair poking over the two rows of books on the divider. 

“What?” Spencer asks.

“Stand on your toes,” you say with a laugh. 

His head rises as he does what you say and you stand on your toes as well to see his eyes poking over the books.

“I can see you,” you tease.

“Yes.” You can hear his smile in his voice.

You laugh and return to browsing the books. Your gaze brushes over a copy of DUNE and you pull it from the shelf to look at the cover. “Spencer!” you call, running around to the other side of the shelf. He looks at you with raised eyebrows. You hold out the book. “There’s no sticker! I love this book and I’ve been trying to find a copy without the sticker for so long! I hate the stickers.”

“They do ruin the covers.”

“Well, that’s it. I just wanted to show you. I’m going to keep looking.” 

You both spend almost an hour looking around the store and by the time you’re both satisfied, you’ve found three books, including the copy of DUNE, and Spencer has read two collections of poetry and found a vintage copy of The Count of Monte Cristo.

Spencer tries to convince you to let him pay for your books and after a brief and silly argument, he relents to only paying for one of them. You make sure to pay first so he can’t try to tell the cashier to put all of your books on his card. He pouts slightly when as you pay, but you won’t let him guilt you into relenting. You smile and pat softly on the shoulder as he sets his book and the third of yours on the counter to pay.

Once he’s finished, he holds his messenger bag open and you slide the books inside. Ever the gentleman, he holds the door for you again on the way out. “What kind of stuff does the cafe have?” you ask as you lead the way through the alley back out to the street.

“They have hot chocolate, so that should make you happy,” Spencer says. You step out of the entrance and turn around to watch him emerge. “They have really good pastries too. And toast with butter and honey.”

“Hmm, I think I’ll get that and a hot chocolate.”

“The toast? You nod as he opens the door for you. “Okay, I’ll order while you grab us a table.”

You look around the room for the perfect spot as Spencer heads to the counter to get in line. There’s a small table for two in one of the corners by the window and you slip into one of the chairs to claim it. 

You can’t seem to take your eyes off Spencer as he waits. He’s just so beautiful. His hands clutch the strap of his messenger bag and you can see his fingers tapping slightly. When it’s his turn he shifts his weight from side to side as he orders. He’s never been able to keep still the entire time you’ve known him, but that’s just another thing you love about him. You smile and wave at him as he turns around and a flush lights up his face. He holds up a small stand with the number twelve on it and sets it on the table as he slides into the seat across from you.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Spencer asks, embarrassed. His cheeks are still bright red.

“No reason,” you say. “You’re just pretty.”

Spencer’s face gets impossibly redder and he hides his head in his hands. “Y-you’re pretty too,” he mutters, his voice muffled behind his hands.

You reach across the table, gently grabbing his sleeves to tug his hands away. He stares at you with wide eyes. He opens his mouth to speak but before he can a waiter comes with the food and drinks and Spencer shuts his mouth again. 

You thank the waiter and Spencer mutters a thanks as well. You slide your hot chocolate and toast over to you and Spencer moves his coffee and croissant to his side of the table.

“What were you going to say before our food came?” you ask, spreading the butter and honey onto your toast.

Spencer’s blush, which had started to fade, comes back in full force. He lowers his eyes to his coffee as he tears open a couple of packets of sugar and dumps them in.

“That I’m really glad you’re here. In DC,” he says awkwardly, stirring the sugar into his coffee with a wooden stir stick. “I’ve missed being around you. And I like that you’re so close now.”

Your face heats and you know that you’re blushing now too. 

“I’m glad, too, Spencer,” you say softly. He raises his head to meet your eyes. “I really like being around you. And I’m really glad you asked me out. I’ve liked you for years and now that I’m here and we can actually see each other I would’ve done it if you hadn’t.”

Spencer smiles widely at you, his nose and eyes crinkling and his tongue poking out slightly between his teeth.

You and Spencer stay in the cafe long after you’ve finished your food and drinks, just talking about anything and everything. You tell him about your research and invite him to come to some of your lectures and he tells you about work and his team. Eventually, the conversation slows and you and Spencer walk back to your apartment in a comfortable silence only occasionally interrupted by Spencer voicing a thought because he knows you like to listen.

________________

Once back inside your apartment Spencer holds open his messenger bag so you can take out your books and set them on the dining table to put away later. 

Spencer gently runs his hand over the bouquet in the center of the table.

“Vinca minor,” he says softly, pointing at one of the purple flowers. “The lesser periwinkle or dwarf periwinkle. It’s a member of the dogbane family and is native to central and southern Europe and southwestern Asia. In the language of flowers, it means early and sincere friendship and tender memories.” He points at a daffodil. “Narcissus jonquilla. Commonly referred to as Jonquil or Rush daffodil. It’s native to Spain and Portugal and represents desire or returned affection. Helianthus annuus. The common sunflower, it’s native to the Americas and represents loyalty and adoration. But I mostly just included them because they’re your favorite.”

You can feel your cheeks warm with a blush and you smile big and wide at him, enough that your eyes close partially. “Spencer?” He looks up at you and you take a few steps forward until you’re right in front of him.

“Y-yeah?” he asks, stuttering slightly.

“Can I kiss you?”

His eyes widen and he nods. You reach up to cup his cheek and kiss him softly. It’s full of love and care and words that should have been said years ago but are finally being shared now. You pull away with a smile and chuckle as he chases after you slightly. You drape your arms around the back of his neck and look him in the eyes. “I love you too, Spencer.”