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#monsignor pruitt
plainlo-inthemorning · 2 days ago
Father Paul’s main motivation for kidnapping a senior member of the vampire community and shipping it halfway across the world, infecting his ex with a blood curse, and dooming an entire island in the name of God:
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feralkokopuff · 2 days ago
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✦ Before the Devil Knows You're Dead ✦
John Tyler x Original Fem! Character
WARNING: Those who watch TMYS know John Tyler and the things he's done. I'd suggest not reading if his actions are a trigger for you. Though, this is a part 1, you won't find anything terrible here just yet.
OVERVIEW: When Mary Barlow assigned John with tracking down the woman who allegedly played a major role in the kidnapping of her daughter, Theresa Barlow, it took no genius to realize that keeping tabs on his actions would be virtually impossible. John was beginning to crack and hold himself in overconfidence. That being said, extra precaution was taken- Mary hired a private investigator to work alongside him, Rosario De Lara; a reliable firecracker of a woman, who never backed down from a fight. She'd been recommended to Mary, despite reservations about the investigator being female- but her desperation knew no bounds. Regardless of being held up by unwavering reputation and far reaching connections, how would this PI fare in the wake of a monster, a wolf? And what were her underlying reasons for accepting such an offer?
NOTE: If you're the type who'd rather read this as a y/n, hey, stick yourself in the position of the character- go for it! I just prefer writing with names and descriptions to use haha, so hopefully it's not too much of a reader turn off. I also hope you all enjoy, as I've never written a fanfic before!
Tags: @hamishlinklaters @bbwithaknife @girlwiththenegantattoo @liesandghosts @beauty-proof @trelaney @everythingbeginsineternity-blog
CHAPTER 1: Never Bite the Hand That Feeds You
It was 8:05 AM, an old-fashioned diner scarcely littered with patrons other than the occasional dissonant ringing of a rusted front counter bell. Dust stagnated upon antiquated hanging lights, dated polaroids depicting jovial memories and former license plates lined wooden walls. The smell mingled between freshly roasted black coffee and moth balls- charming. Surrounded by a corner booth, far from earshot of nosy neighbors, sat John Tyler, alone with his equally fabricated charm, neatly brushed hair, and slimming suit. The man had been swept up in a flurry of resentful musing; when Mary spoke over the phone about a partner joining his search, John instantly protested. She may have played it off as some asset gain, but he effortlessly recognized what her guise veiled- Mary had found herself a babysitter, someone to keep tabs on John's actions outside the illustration of an occasional credit card charge. He'd allow no one to interfere, not midway through this little quasi-investigation. However, the man was caught like a deer in headlights at the begrudging revelation that his soon-to-be partner was a woman. Awfully reckless of Mary's better judgment, no? But it seemed as John became more unhinged, her desperation grew. Self-interest clouded morals. So, there he sat, a wolf lying in wait, king of the ashes in his wake, bound to start another fire, devour another heart. It was a matter of time until John's forbearing shell chipped away and revealed the black hole of a man beneath.
8:15 AM. She was late. An older waitress who smelled of thick cigarette smoke, metallic name tag reading "Martha," attempted to take John's order a couple of times, but he only sipped at a cooling black coffee. Finally, snapped from brooding thought, the droplet stained glass door gently swung open. It clicked shut behind a radiant, confidently statured woman who seemed to be in her mid 30s, with piercing blue eyes and wavy raven hair that rested shoulder level. She donned a thin, black long sleeve shirt, tucked into some light blue skinny jeans, tied off with a leather belt. John's predatory ogle swelled, and for his own sake, would have turned that oaken gaze downward to the lukewarm mug cupped between large hands- had their eyes not met. There she was, walking over like someone who'd found what they were looking for, all while extending a fearless hand.
"You must be John. I'm Rosario- call me Rio." Her voice was warming, yet intense like the burn and bite of honey whiskey, peppered with hints of a loose Spanish accent. Stunned momentarily, John cleared his throat and shook her hand. "You're late." He hummed with a tight lipped smile, warding off his own thoughts. Oh, Mary... what a mistake you made, bringing sheep to slaughter. "Am I? You know what they say, good things take time." She smirked, slipping into the booth seat across from him. Martha practically tripped over her own feet at the wanting sight of a new customer, semblance of good service brinking closer to frequenter deprivation. Briefly ordering a black coffee and omelet, Rio glanced back to her newly acquainted counterpart as the waitress scuttled off. He seemed at a loss; John's silence was uncharacteristic. With a sharp inhale, he hesitantly asked the question that seared his brain in confused uncertainty.
"She's told you about me? Mary, I mean."
"She has."
"Yet you're here."
"Yet I'm here." The raven haired woman chuckled, like someone who knew how ludicrous their own choices were. Mary really did find someone crazy enough to show up.
John Tyler was the monster under the bed, the creature that went bump in the night, the hair raising crawl of following eyes with no one in sight, the churning unease of passing a dimly lit alleyway. He was what every woman feared, bundled into a black mass that walked and talked like a human being. In spite of that, across from him sat the first woman to know his wickedness and greet him with the shake of a hand, a joke, a seat aside the Devil. The man who meditated with walls adorned in obsessive post-it notes admired her courage, even thankful for being regarded as nothing lesser than a living, breathing being. The monster... he wanted to burn away her fearlessness to ash, shatter her spirit, pluck out her soul to pick apart and haphazardly sew back in. How infuriating of a contradiction.
"I'm sure that she's let you in on every little detail of how she feels about me, our work relationship has been unfortunately... rocky, as of late." John's wide eyes held confidently firm, tone similar to that of a man talking about his ornery boss at a desk job, rather than one illegally tracking a supposed kidnapper and killer. "So, that begs the question: why not hire you to follow me instead of this? Certainly Mary has led herself to believe that she's putting you at risk by coming here- she is a worrier, often without cause." Without cause, the irony. "I told her that's the kind of thing that causes cancer." John uttered incidentally with a downward gaze as he shook his head, nudging aside the white cup soiled in idle coffee grounds.
Rio's mouth twitched up with an entertained beam, leaning back in her fissured faux leather seat. "You can't tell me that you would've been hunky-dory if you found me poking around on behalf of Mary Barlow. A loose cannon and a desperate woman walk into a bar... that's a natural disaster waiting to happen. I, for one, would rather diffuse a nuclear bomb before it explodes- call me crazy." She waved a dismissive hand, but John's eyes lit behind a wolfish grin that rose in disbelieving amusement. "Oh, I don't believe you're that charitable, Rio." He asserted with a lighter timbre. "In a working relationship, no, I'm not. But Ms. Barlow does pay well to be in the vicinity of a man with your reputation- Hell, she'd have to." Finally, Rosario's steaming cup of coffee and freshly cooked omelet were laid before her, the waitress sauntering away, following a polite "thank you."
Ah, the thousand dollar question: Did Rio like Mary Barlow? "Like" was a very strong word. The genuine answer? Hell no. This endeavor was foolish and single-minded- if John hadn't been over the edge already, this would send him tumbling. But Rosario had her own reasons, her own need for being here. People often looked danger in the face out of necessity. This was no different.
"My reputation." He repeated through a bitter mumble as Rio gently blew on her coffee, those darkened eyes rising to her plush puckered lips. His amusement had fallen. "Yes, John- your reputation. We won't get along very well if reality avoidance is one of your coping mechanisms." She determined nonchalantly while taking a sip, and his daze broke. No, that didn't go over well. Brief silence filled the air; the pause before an unwavering decision. "Let Mary know that I won't be needing a babysitter, would you? Thanks for the coffee." His smile smoldered with sarcasm and vexation. Wordless, John stuck Rio with the bill as he stood- call it payment for a waste of time. Soon, the man was making a beeline for the diner's exit in irritated strides. All that he'd brought to the table, and she express delivers one big middle finger to John's doorstep; not only a declaration of how little confidence Ms. Barlow held in his ability to get the job done, but her lack of respect for his efforts.
"Come on, you could at least let me finish my food before stomping off like a teenage girl!" Rosario called after him as the door clicked shut. "Son of a bitch." She sighed beneath her breath while rising, taking a few quick mouthfulls of the overly salted omelet and washing it down with black coffee gulps. Rio tossed loose bills and change on the table before quickly trotting after John across the gravel parking lot, who was currently unlocking his vehicle. "You're so professional until someone steps on your toes, John. Between stalking women for months at a time and prison therapy, I'd figure you accomplished a little more patience than that." He immediately swung around as if to silence her before any bystanders could overhear; the weight of John's foreboding leer communicated his threat more than words ever could. "Just how professional would I be if I allowed an outside party to botch my investigation? I've gotten this far without being held by the hand or made to look through the rulebook; you would slow me down." Not once did he blink or falter- a man with sole confidence in himself. Rio raised her hand, signaling a truce. But nothing lifted the heaviness of his stare, like stone piled upon screaming lungs. A short breath pushed past the woman's lips as she gathered scattered thoughts. It was clear that bickering wouldn't get them anywhere.
Casting her gaze to the crunching gravel below, Rosario's expression softened, her tone eased; Mary instructed Rio to make this work, so perhaps appeasement would pave the road to partnership, albeit discontented. "Do you really think it would've been a bright idea for someone who abided by the rules to accept the position I've been put in? You're out of state, that's cause enough for arrest regardless. I get results by the most efficient means possible- it rarely leaves time to flip through every page in the rulebook, and I have access to information, people. I'm here to make this easier." John Tyler was the last person Rosario expected the need to plead her own case- the tables weren't turned, but completely thrown out of the window.
"In any case, Ms. Barlow wanted me to jog your memory; she has you set up with your car and your credit card- you're not in a position to bite the hand that feeds you, John. Keep that in mind." The man who towered above her height loured inwardly, wrestling with his own mentality. Oh, how he wanted to wrap his hand around her neck and- no... no, not here. Civility. This won't end well, he knew it as blatantly as she did; John sensed it in her wary eyes, her cautious arm's length away. What could stop the full force of an avalanche, held back by a single waning layer of snow? What could stop a man who was cracking at the seams, held together by scotch tape and a pipe dream? Wolves will do what is in their nature: hunt.
"We do this my way."
There it is.
"If your way works, I'll oblige. I hear you're heading out tomorrow. Pick me up, here, same time." Rio consented, her composed posture soon finding its way back as she pulled a set of jangling car keys from her pocket. The raven haired woman suddenly perked up like someone who'd remembered an important detail. "Oh, and John? If you go after another woman, I'll put you in prison for the rest of your life. Lay a hand on me, I'll put you in the ground." She smiled faintly, as if a darkness of her own hadn't illuminated those eyes. Lightly tapping his vehicle's hood, Rio made way to her ride. "See you bright and early, partner."
"Said a fly to a spider." John mentally grinned with devilish delight and bared fangs. And so his shell chipped.
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pegplunkett · a day ago
well I've written another one-shot midnight mass fic where some stuff goes down in the confessional. horny stuff. no plot, just fuckin'
pairing: father paul x reader
word count: 2235
rating: like, mad explicit
ao3 link:
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He had told you to come to the church at midnight. In a stolen moment before mass earlier that evening, he pressed you against the wall of the sacristy and kissed you, deep and hungry, his tongue in your mouth and yours darting in his. He murmured the command in your ear and you nodded yes, yes of course you would come, you would do whatever he asked. He was gentle and sweet with you when you were together, but he also knew how much it excited you when he delivered a particularly impassioned homily, when he looked at you with devilment in his eyes, when he took charge. And he was very, very good at it.
read it all here!
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bottlesandbarricades · 2 days ago
Thinking about it John Pruitt must be built different cause even at 80 plus years old he actually survived being savaged by the big old bat when Riley and that didn't
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agir1ukn0w · 8 hours ago
while y’all are obsessing over Father Paul shouting “HOW DOES IT MAKE YOU FEEL?!” at Riley (as well you should be), i’m obsessing over Father Paul walking out onto his front porch and screaming “WHERE ARE YOU?!!!” at the angel
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uwusinthenight · 2 days ago
(NSFT) Reward - Chapter 1
A/N: First fanfic I’ve ever written, pls be gentle, I’ve never written a story in my life lmao. My excuse for this is that I wanted to see some more Sub!John getting pegged (coming in future chapters). Enjoy this meanwhile!
Sidenote: NSFT means NSFW, works against bots.
Content ahead: soft dom/sub, Dom!Reader, Sub!John, gender neutral reader, reader has a vagina but that’s it. No explicit things, yet, but just a heads up for the readers of what direction the fic is going to go.
Word count: 1,011 words.
Today was a special night.
You had been toying with the idea for weeks now, something you wanted to explore with him, to show him how much of a good boy he was.
A long, long night filled with his cries of passion. Experiencing an almost never-ending wave of pleasure.
Since the beginning of your relationship he had shown to be so devoted to you, a new goal, a mission in his life that consisted in making you happy in every way possible.
Recalling funny stories or jokes making your lips curl in such a way that without fail made his eyes shine with love… Or connecting on a more physical level with you; His religious vows now forgotten.
He might be a man of the lord but you were the owner of his heart; He showed you the key when you both shared a kiss and sealed the deal when he, after parting and locking those irises resembling two rivers of sweet, sweet honey on yours, John softly but with an unfaltering voice said “I love you, Y/N.”
It had been low enough to make sure nobody except you heard it.
The world didn’t need him to yell these words because they already heard him, it didn’t matter that he had kept his voice low. They had caught every single word that left John’s mouth, and they wouldn’t forget, not now, not ever.
He would never stop reminding them of it. He wouldn’t back down. The spoken words were divine.
You were his whole world.
There were two sides of the same coin. One, the public, where he was this powerful, charismatic, commanding priest. And the other, in the privacy of his house, where he was all but commanding; The second you two were alone, locked eyes and those plump, soft lips met yours, he gave himself to you, in body and soul, to use as you desired.
He allowed himself to be vulnerable, laying bare under your gaze. A new power in his life.
The Lord wasn't the only one being worshiped by John now.
The two of you were now in bed. Him with one arm wrapped around you, holding you close while with the other he read that one sacred book, the Bible. Your head rested on his chest and your palm on his stomach.
The perfect pillow, a silly thought crossing your mind.
You had fed him earlier and so decided to rest for a few hours to help the dizzy and fainting feelings… Well, it was mostly John’s idea, between him expressing his love and praise for you he had also helped you lay down and insisted on staying by your side in case you needed something. Who could say no to those worried puppy eyes that literally had just offered kisses and cuddles to help you feel better?
And so, the plan b-
A soft thud interrupted your train of thoughts, followed by a low groan coming from beside you.
A snort left you prompting the man whose chest you had been laying on, and who also had just been assaulted by a book, to turn to you with an offended look that soon broke into a smile followed by chuckling after you started snickering.
“Well, good morning, love.” Said John after both of you calmed down and gently laid a kiss on your forehead. “How are you feeling?”
“Way better, thank you.” You laid on your side and pulled him against you. “But I think I might need another dose of snuggles.” You planted a trail of kisses from his neck to cheek, feeling a smile begin to manifest on him on the way up. “Also kisses.”
John laughed softly. “Well…” He cupped your face with both hands, tenderly massaging the skin. “I do believe I can help with that.”
A kiss on your forehead, a kiss on your nose, and a kiss on your lips which you soon turned into something more intense with your hand on his head and fingers entangled in his raven locks of hair.
His hands moved to your hips. Then his arms encircled you once again. You two became one in an entanglement of limbs, now existing in another reality where the only thing that mattered was your union.
After what were probably minutes, yet, felt like hours, you planted a final, more gentle, kiss on his lips and not-so-gently bite his lip, causing a small moan to erupt from John’s lips.
In a swift movement you pushed him against the bed and straddled his hips. Now sitting on top of him you allowed your eyes to linger more on his face. Face slightly flushed, a sheepish smile playing on his lips and his eyes like two stars looking at you, full of love.
“Kitten.” You said lowly.
His cheeks turned a deep crimson shade, chocolate eyes blew wide open and you felt him shiver under you.
It was a title that you gave him. Secret. WIth a command behind it.
Submit to me.
“I want you.” You said with a smirk and lowered yourself to be mere inches from his face. “If that’s okay with you.” You petted his hair with one hand while with the other you took one of his and intertwined your fingers. His eyes followed your every move, mouth agape, the entire time. So adorable.
“It’s okay if you don’t feel like it, baby. There’s no pressure.” You reassured him with a smile and gently kissed his forehead before going back to a seated position.
He swallowed and his mouth struggled to form sentences for a few seconds. Stuttering. After a few tries he finally managed to get out what resembled a “yes” along with a nod.
“What was that, darling?” You heard him perfectly but seeing him get flustered like this wasn’t something you could just pass up.
“Yes.” Said John, louder than before. “I want you… Your eminence.”
A sudden heat engulfed your body.
“Good boy.” You replied and gave him one last kiss.
Now the fun begins.
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littledozerdraws · a month ago
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don’t be suspicious 👀💦💦💦
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feralkokopuff · a day ago
This man is adorable look how excited he is 😭😭💕 If they don't win I'm gonna have a stern talking to with someone... aka arson... but we don't mention that
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