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thaleleah · 1 month

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𝓖𝓸𝓭𝓵𝓮𝓼𝓼 (𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓞𝓷𝓮)

Pairing: Billy The Kid x Fem!Nun!Reader

Warnings: ***NON-CON***, Dub-Con, Dark!Billy, Virgin!Reader, Oral (female receiving), Fingering, P in V, Corruption Kink, Creampie, Possessive Behavior, Masturbation, Wet Dreams/Sex Dreams, Seduction, Emotional Manipulation, Religion and Religious Beliefs, Explicit talk of gunshot wounds, blood, and the bullet's removal (kinda? Idk if it's explicit explicit, but its a little more than just mentioned), Mention of physical abuse/child abuse (not from Billy), Childhood Trauma, Mention of alcoholism, Moral/Religious conflict within one's self, My bad Spanish, Nun breaking her vows, Probably too quick of a healing process to be fucking someone but I'm not a doctor so 🤷🏻‍♀️, Using the word "drawers" instead of "panties" which is kinda cringe to me but I wanted to be somewhat accurate

Word Count: 9.6K

A/N: Billy's passed out for most of this but I hope y'all like it anyway. Please know I'm posting this and then running away. Okay, byeeeeeeeeee

Summary: When Billy stumbles into your clinic, hurt and in desperate need of care and refuge, you don't hesitate to help him. Perhaps this is God's will. Perhaps He has brought him into your life to help heal the parts of him that the cruelness of the world has soiled and broken. You are a healer by trade, both of the physical body and of faith. If this is to be God's mission for you, then it shall be done. How could you have possibly known that the young man who begged for help that fateful night would turn out to be the devil himself?

Translations:

Por Dios - Oh my God

Que Dios te bendiga - May God bless you

Qué sorpresa! - What a surprise!

Y él no quería que su mamá lo supiera. Así enterró la carne en el jardín - And he didn't want his mom to know. So he buried the meat in the garden

Pero el perro la desenterró y ella se descubrió de todos modos. Tuvo que lavar platos él solo por dos meses - But the dog dug it up and she found out anyway. He had to wash the dishes by himself for two months

Ese niño - That kid/child

Parece que era un buen amigo - Seems like he was a good friend

Sí, él era - Yes, he was

De nada - You're welcome

Gracias, Hermana - Thanks, Sister

They say the devil can take on many forms.

He is a demon figure - with the face of a goat, horns, hooves, and a blade pointed tail.

He is a great dragon - large and terrifying, destructive and formidable in the power he holds.

He is a roaring lion - hungry and fierce as he stalks God’s children, waiting for them to fall into his trap before he attacks them like prey.

But the devil was once God’s favorite angel, amazingly beautiful and wise. The angel of light, God’s morning star - a traitor now, a trickster . . . evil.

The Lord teaches love for all, compassion and understanding despite another’s upbringing or current situation. All humans are God’s children, all made in His perfect image, brothers and sisters in unity under His loving and eternal care. You are thankful to know this, grateful that you can feel His presence coursing through your veins despite the horror that you’ve come to face daily while working at the clinic. His gift to you is your endless drive to help those in need, sitting by the bedsides of the sick and dying, applying a cool rag to their sweaty foreheads, or spoon feeding them soup to give them strength when they are too weak to do it themselves.

It is a taxing life, and the sorrow you feel when you cannot nurse someone back to health is ever present in your heart, but the Lord is clear in your life’s mission and you will be forever thankful for the lessons you learn in this lifetime.

He has made you a healer, using you as a vessel for His healing touch for all you come across - regardless of wealth, status, religious affiliation, or criminal record.

Which is why when he stumbles into the clinic during the late hours of the night, face pale and hand pressing hard to his side where blood is streaming through his fingers despite the pressure, you don’t hesitate to help him.

You think you should have - should have let him bleed to death on the clinic floor. Would God have abandoned you if you had?

“Sister Maria!” You cry instead, running to the injured man and looping his arm around your shoulders to help him lean against you. “We need fresh towels and water! And sutures! Hurry!”

Sister Maria runs in the room, bedsheets still cradled in her arms from where she had been turning over a recently discharged patient’s room. She gasps at the scene, dropping the linens on the floor as she rushes to the main utility closet. You guide the man to a bed, helping him drop onto the thin mattress with a tortured groan. One of your hands splays over his, helping to maintain pressure on the wound until Sister Maria can bring in the needed supplies. Your other hand lays gently on his sweaty forehead, thumb caressing the straight line of his nose trying to soothe him.

His baby blue eyes stare up at you through their pained haze.

“P-please, help,”

The devil can take on many forms and carry many names.

And yet, despite all you’ve heard about who he is and what he’s done, you never once considered Billy the Kid to be one of them.

Misguided and uncared for - sure, but never evil.

He’s so young. You can’t even imagine what horrors he must have had to go through to lead him to the path that he’s on now.

Perhaps it’s fate that you’ve been brought together, an opportunity for you to spread the healing power of your Lord’s love and mend not only his body but his bruised heart as well. You’ve seen too many times where hardships have hardened the minds and spirits of others, caging them off from God as they struggle with their wavering faith.

“Don’t you worry,” You say. “The Lord is here with us. He will see you through.”

Whether he groans from your words or the pain, you’re not sure.

Sister Maria is quick to grab the supplies, dumping them on the side table. She dunks a clean cloth in the water, wringing out the excess, but pauses when she sees his face.

“Is that— ”

“Nevermind that!” You hiss, pulling the cloth from her hand.

You lift his shirt, exposing the injury and the dirt dusted skin framing it. It looks horrible, blood seeping from the laceration in a steady flow and a part of you is thankful that the sight of blood doesn’t make you immediately drop to the floor like your cousin, Paul. He gasps when you touch the cloth to the wound, blood immediately seeping into the white of the cloth and marring the pure color.

His fingers dig into the fabric of his trousers, gripping it tight as he clenches his teeth against the pain. Your free hand rubs lightly against his forehead, trying to soothe him as best you can while you clean the wound.

You think it must be God’s mercy that he passes out before you can pull the bullet out. The pain of the forceps digging into his body as you pulled out the thick ball of lead and the shock that would have come with it would have surely dragged him under had blood loss not gotten to him first. It’s better this way - he’s safer cradled in sleep’s loving hold rather than crying and jerking about as you try to save his life.

Sister Maria holds a small bowl out in front of you with one hand while the other delicately holds his wrist, feeling his pulse between her dainty fingers.

The bullet comes out easy, your forceps finding the lead and guiding it out of the wound’s entrance with ease. It clanks as you drop it into the tiny bowl, and you send up prayers of thanks for allowing such a quick and simple removal. The grace of your Lord has certainly just saved this man’s life.

With quick fingers, you stitch him up, practiced movements securing the wound shut before covering it with a generous dressing of cloth to keep it clean from any dirt and debris.

His sleep isn’t restful, the pinch in his brow and the way his cheeks twitch in the flickering candlelight of the small room make that clear. Your own brows pinch as you reach a hand out to trace the furrowed skin, smoothing it out with a gentle thumb. You don’t like seeing people suffer, but it’s more often than not that the people you come into contact with while working in the clinic are in pain, or suffering, or at Heaven’s doorstep. You help who you can and pray for the souls of the ones you can’t so they may be guided to God’s kingdom where they can live in an eternal paradise by His side. It always hurts when you can’t heal someone, the feeling of failure is a stark reminder that ultimately it is the Lord who chooses to give us life, and he can choose to take it away just as quickly.

It feels different this time though, somehow more personal in a way you can’t understand. The young man before you still has his whole life ahead of him, still so much to do and so many lives to touch. The sins that he’s committed thus far can be forgiven, if only he lifts them up to Him and asks for forgiveness. You can feel it, deep in your bones, that you need to save this man. You can’t fail.

He’s alive, for now. And you can only do your best to make sure he stays that way.

“He cannot stay here,” Sister Maria says quietly, gathering the red stained water and rags. “They will find him.”

You nod, gathering the small bowl with the bullet remnant and the sutures kit. “We’ll keep him here tonight and move him to the back room in the morning after he’s rested a while,”

“No,” Sister Maria says. “He cannot stay here. Helping an outlaw is punishable by death. They will hang us,”

“God will not abandon us,” You say, firmly. “We are all His children, servants and outlaw alike. He wouldn’t want us to toss him out on the street to die.”

You look over your shoulder towards the sleeping man again. His brow is furrowed again, the sweat on his face glistening in the light. You sigh before turning back to Sister Maria. “Don’t worry, Sister. I’ll think of something,”

The pacifying words seem to offer Sister Maria no comfort, and her worried eyes snap upwards as she looks towards the ceiling, voice cracking as she breathes a pleading, “Por Dios,” up towards the roof.

The room is silent to her plea.

You don’t leave Billy’s side the entire night, sitting in the chair directly next to the bed, dabbing at his heated face and neck with a damp washcloth and changing his bandage when the first one had soiled through. He wakes a few times during the night, icy blue eyes fluttering open and locking on yours for the briefest second before slipping closed once again, a quiet sigh escaping through his slightly parted lips.

This is the hardest part - the waiting. Waiting to see if your hard work to heal someone was enough. You keep a close eye on him, looking for signs of pain or illness, keeping an eye on the injury site to try and prevent infection. You flushed it with alcohol during the dressing change, having found an extra bottle hiding in the supply closet while grabbing some fresh cloths. Supplies like alcohol for disinfecting, while needlessly abundant in saloons and brothels, are difficult to acquire for the clinic. You think it's foolish, wasting something that can be used for healing purposes on something as pointless as getting drunk. Your father had been a drunk, drinking away his cares and woes, his only goal was to make it to the bottom of a bottle.

You wish you would have found it sooner so you could have actually disinfected the entire wound instead of just the outside and stitches, but this is better than nothing, you suppose. The smell as you pour it over his wound makes your stomach turn, reminding you of all the times your father came home reeking of the stuff, belly full of poison and his mind, hazed with drink, still evil enough to find your mother and make her suffer as if she were the reason he deemed himself a failure in life. Billy lets out a pained moan in his sleep, body subconsciously tensing in pain as the alcohol flushes the stitched up skin, but thankfully he doesn’t wake. You don’t want him to be in pain, but there’s a part of you that selfishly thinks he’s sharing your own pain, the memory of your childhood trauma somehow seeping into his brain as you recover his wound.

You know it’s not true, but you’re thankful he’s there with you anyway.

When morning arrives, you’re beyond exhausted.

The night shift always takes more out of you than the day shift and your eyes have been threatening to close since the first rays of the sun started spreading across the dust covered floor of the clinic.

Sister Ann and Sister Catherine arrive before the sun does, the first rays of it only starting to spill over the New Mexico horizon line when their footsteps echo through the entryway. You lean forward in your seat at the sound of them, glancing over at Billy’s still sleeping frame as Sister Ann’s gentle humming of a nursery song her mother used to sing to her spreads throughout the clinic. Quick footsteps cut through the song, the humming stopping entirely as frantic whispers sound from the entryway. And then three sets of running feet are getting closer to the corner room.

“Oh, good heavens,” Sister Catherine breathes, eyes locked on the special patient taking up the small bed.

Sister Ann has a dainty hand clasped against her mouth in shock and Sister Maria nervously wrings her own together from behind them.

“He was hurt,” You say, immediately defensive of the injured man. “We couldn’t leave him to die. The Lord says–”

“You don’t need to preach to us, Sister y/n,” Sister Catherine interrupts. “It’s the right thing to do. The Lord is on our side.” She’s confident in her words, and it gives you comfort you didn’t know you needed to have your beliefs validated. But she pauses, eyes flickering once again to Billy before they meet yours - the fear in her brown orbs clear as day. “The law, on the other hand, will not be.”

“We need to move him,” You say.

“To where?” Sister Ann whispers frantically. “The sheriff and his deputies are sure to show up here. They know he’s been shot, it’s only a matter of time.”

“It is a blessing they have not come already,” Sister Maria adds.

They’re right. With Billy injured, they have to know he couldn’t have gotten far. Their only saving grace is that the Sheriff more than likely would have never believed Billy would have come to the clinic for medical attention if on the run from the law. Perhaps holed up in some abandoned alley, bleeding out while propped up against a wall. Or maybe they think he tried riding out of town, desperate to get as far away from the people hunting him as possible before inevitably succumbing to his injuries and falling off his horse in a nearby field.

You rise from the chair, leaning over the bed slightly to rest a gentle hand on Billy’s forehead. It’s still clammy against your palm and he shivers slightly in his sleep, subconsciously pressing his head a little harder against your hand looking for comfort in his pained state. He needs to get away from here, away from any prying eyes because if he’s found, his life on this Earth is over. He is in no position to run or fight for his life. The road to recovery for him is a long one if he hopes to heal well enough to regain his strength and usual mobility. The only thing he will have to look forward to if discovered before he can is a necklace of rope and a quick fall.

“Help me get him to the back room,” You say, sternly. In moments of uncertainty and panic, someone needs to be the guiding light. Your fellow Sisters are still as stones in their spots, all in various states of distress as they look at the man who, if discovered under their care, could very well be the catalyst that marks the end of their missions here on Earth. The Lord brought Billy to you - you need to protect him. “He can stay in the alcove until we can figure out where to take him.”

“He cannot stay in the clinic!” Sister Maria exclaims. “They will surely check every room searching for him!”

“Trust me,” You soothe. “Please, Sister. We need to move him before they come or we will all surely pay the price.”

There is a short pause, but to your frantic brain it feels like an eternity before Sister Catherine nods and gently nudges Sister Ann to the opposite side of the bed.

“Let’s hurry,” She says, reaching to pull away the thin blanket you threw over Billy’s shaking frame at some point during the night. “I fear we don’t have much time left.”

Together, the four of you lift Billy from the bed. It’s a struggle. Even for multiple women to carry a fully grown man, it's a task and a half just to get him from the small patient room to the back area of the clinic. He whines in his sleep, his wound jostling and stitches pulling from the regretfully poor stability you have on his body as you carry him. But, somehow, he doesn’t wake.

The back room is small, but comparatively large compared to the patient’s rooms. The entire width is the size of two patient rooms combined, but that’s not giving it much grace. It makes you sick sometimes, to see people with money spending it on lavish items, large houses and grand parties just to show off their wealth when there are people in need all around whose lives would change if they only had a fraction of the wealth the ones in good standing do. As it is, the back room of the clinic is despairingly bare - limited backstock of supplies, linens, and food are scattered among the wooden shelves lining the room. If only those wealthy men who think to only fill their pockets would hear the Lord’s call to give to the needy instead. It would make your heart happy to see these shelves filled just once.

There’s a small alcove in the back of the room that you and the other Sisters use when times prove most trying. On the days when things are difficult, emotions are too much for you to handle alone or a patient isn’t doing well and there’s nothing you can do other than wait and pray for their recovery, you visit the alcove. It's been adorned with simple yet revenant items, a small yet beautiful cross nailed to the center of the wall, a small ceramic dish holding a wooden beaded rosary placed on the floor below it, resting on a pleasantly fluffed up pillow - ready to help guide their prayer.

Resting against the side wall of the alcove is a folded up cot. It’s not uncommon that one of the Sisters might have to sleep at the clinic during their off shift. More often than not, they are able to return to their lodgings to sleep and reenergize for their next shift. But there are times when too many people are injured, too many of the townspeople have fallen ill to whatever flu or illness that’s crossing through the town and all hands are needed here. The foldable cot is their home away from home, and while it might not be the most comfortable, you are thankful the Lord was able to provide it lest you be made to sleep on the floor behind the extra blankets neatly folded on the shelves.

You all adjust your grips on the young man allowing for Sister Maria to release her hold and pull back the thick blanket shielding the entrance to the alcove. You grunt under the presence of the additional weight, the awkward grip you all have on him unhelpful in the way his limp body bears down on you all. Sister Maria is quick in tying back the privacy blanket so that it stays to one side, and works to wrangle open the finicky cot. Once it’s unrolled, you help in depositing Billy down onto the makeshift bed, quickly checking his wound to make sure no stitches accidentally ripped in the journey back here before turning to accept the fresh blanket Sister Ann hands you from the shelf.

Billy’s brow is furrowed again, breathing a little harsher probably from the pain of being jostled. You lay out the blanket over top of him and pull it up to his chin, your hand reaching out to smooth the wrinkled skin between his eyes again.

“What do we do now?” Sister Ann asks, and Sister Catherine pulls her hand away from where it was plucking nervously at the skin at the sides of her fingers.

“We wait,” She responds, cradling Sister Ann’s damaged hand delicately between her own. “We won’t be able to move him out of the clinic before the Sheriff arrives. We’ll have to keep him hidden here until then and pray they don’t find him.”

The thought of the Sheriff and his men finding Billy here makes your stomach churn. The undeniable fate that waits for you if he’s discovered is one that you’re willing to sacrifice. He’s come here for help, God has brought him here to you for your healing and protection and you can’t fail Him just because your humanity makes you fearful of your end. It’s supposed to be a beautiful thing - death. The moment when your soul on this Earth fulfills its mission here and your granted eternal life at the side of God in the Kingdom of Heaven. It’s what you’ve wanted your whole life, a life of peace and serenity that seems so out of reach here on the soil. Fear will not keep you from looking forward to it. But you’re not done here yet, you have many years left of helping others and spreading His love to those in need. This is not your end. But if it is, it’s worth the sacrifice to try to save Billy.

You’ll hang with him, if need be.

Your fellow Sisters though . . . the thought of them hanging for your own choice, regardless of if you think it was the right thing to do, makes you sick. Your decisions are your own, and they shouldn’t suffer for your choices.

Billy’s forehead unwrinkles under your gentle fingers, and you can feel your heart break as you look down at him. He’s so young still, a young man just at the beginning of his life. He has so many fine years ahead of him. He’s handsome, fit and strong - he would make a fine husband for some lucky lady, a dutiful father for his children. He’s not as evil as they say. You’ve learned to trust your instincts when it comes to people. Sometimes the most misunderstood people are the kindest, and you can’t help but think Billy is the most misunderstood of all. You can’t sense a single whisper of badness in him.

You stand up and pull the privacy blanket back in front of the alcove, hiding Billy from sight in the safety of God’s makeshift altar. Together, you and the other Sisters make your way out of the back room. A few rooms down a sickly man is coughing up a storm, and from how hard and continuous his coughs are, you know his throat is raw. Sister Ann shoots the rest of you a worried look, but turns to grab a water carafe off of a side table before rushing down the hall towards the coughing man and away from the current situation.

“You can head back, Sister Maria,” You say, placing a calming hand on her shoulder. “Get some rest. It’s going to be a long day and we’re going to need you for the night shift.”

You can tell she’s torn, both wanting to stay and help in any way she can but seeming to know that there’s nothing she can do. All there is to do is wait. After a few moments, she nods, her own hand coming up to rest on top of yours. “Que Dios te bendiga,”

You watch as she makes her way towards the front, pushing open the wooden door before jerking to a halt. “Sheriff Garrett! Qué sorpresa!”

Her words sent a spark of panic through you. It’s so soon! You knew it was coming, but it’s still so incredibly soon. You had hoped for at least a while longer to try to gather your thoughts and think of a plan of where you can take Billy, but it feels like time moves slowly as the Sheriff and two of his deputies step into the clinic.

“Sister,” Garrett responds, respectfully tipping his hat.

Even through your panic, you still feel a twinge of irritation. A gentleman would take off his hat, but you suppose it’s better than the two men standing behind him who do nothing but trail their eyes around the clinic's entrance suspiciously (and with a clear bout of judgment).

You know for a fact these men with gold lined pockets have never given so much as a dime to the clinic.

Sister Maria turns back to look at you and Sister Catherine, desperation clear in her eyes and you're glad that none of the men are looking at her anymore or you think her obvious distress might have given you all away.

“Have a good rest, Sister,” You say, urging Sister Maria away. Thankfully, she listens, nodding to you and then Garrett before scurrying out the door.

“How can we help you, Sheriff?” Sister Catherine asks.

Garrett takes a few leisurely steps along the entryway, observing the interior of the clinic with the aura of a man who thinks he can see everything. You suspect he sees nothing at all.

“I apologize for the interruption, Sisters. I know you’re hard at work," He says. “But we’re looking for an outlaw on the run.” He pauses, looking over at the two of you with pointed eyes. At your silence, he continues. “William H. Bonney, otherwise known as Billy the Kid,”

“Oh, dear,” Sister Catherine gasps.

You feign concern also, bringing your fingers to your mouth as a sign of shock. Garrett nods in agreement at your supposed horror.

“As you no doubt know he is a very dangerous, very unlawful, man,”

“So we’ve heard,” Sister Catherine says, nodding solemnly. “Is that what brings you in today?”

“Yes,” He says. “There was an altercation last night between him and I. I was able to shoot him so he is very hurt, but he got away before I could arrest him or finish the job.”

“Kinda stupid to come to a clinic when you’re a wanted outlaw, Pat,” One of the men behind Garrett grumbles. “We’re wasting our time here.”

You can’t help but agree, despite that being exactly what Billy did. But maybe that’s what makes it smart. You're hopeful that Garrett will listen to his friend, will assume that Billy couldn’t possibly be here and leave the clinic without investigating it.

The small spark of hope dies as Garrett laughs without mirth. “The Kid’s not stupid. But we’re covering all our bases,”

“Helloooooo,” A voice calls from another room opposite the patient still occasionally coughing up a lung. “Can someone please pay attention to the sick people around here? Hellooooooooooo?”

Sister Catherine smiles tightly. “Mr. Taylor,” She says by way of explanation. “A rather problematic patient here. He’s a good man, just impatient.”

Sister Ann’s voice can still be heard attempting to soothe her own charge, so Sister Catherine has no choice but to tend to Mr. Taylor. When she disappears from sight, you turn back to Garrett, trying your best to deter suspicion.

“I can assure you, Sheriff, that we haven’t seen any sign of Mr. Bonney around here,” The lie leaves your lips far too easily for it to feel like the sin that it is.

Garrett nods, and you can tell he believes you, but puts his hands on his hips all the same, one hand pushing aside his coat to rest freely on the hilt of his gun. “Mind if we have a look around?”

You force a smile on your face. “Not at all. As long as you don’t bother any of the patients. They need their rest,”

“Certainly,”

You lead him around the clinic allowing him and the deputies to search the rooms for their missing outlaw. When they get to Billy’s old room, the room they just vacated not minutes before the Sheriff arrived, you tell them that a patient was recently discharged and that you hadn’t had the time to turn over the room yet.

“Why is there blood on ‘em?” One of the deputies asks, nodding to the blood stains still covering the stark white of the sheets.

“A cooking accident,” You reply. “An incorrect knife hold can sometimes do that,”

Another lie. You feel this one a little more than the first.

Eventually their search comes to the back room. You can’t keep them out, that would be too suspicious, so you allow them to walk through the half filled shelves. It's more than clear that there’s no place to hide anyone here other than the alcove and you're naively hoping they won’t even realize it’s there.

It’s a large blanket hanging on the wall. Of course, they’re going to notice it.

And, sure enough, one of the deputy’s eyes cut to the blanket. He heads towards it with a gruff “What’s behind here?” but you intercept him, rushing over to stand between him and the alcove.

The Sheriff and his deputies have their eyes on you now, each one closing in closer to you and the alcove, much too close for comfort.

“Sister,” Garrett says, voice stern with authority. “What’s behind the blanket?”

“It’s our place of prayer here,” You say, voice calm despite your nervousness. “Our altar.” You can’t mess up now. If you show any sign that you’re being untruthful, both you and Billy as well as your fellow Sisters out front will be on a one way trip to the courthouse. You’ll all die hanging from its top banister. “When healing doesn’t seem to be enough, it helps to have a place dedicated to God to call upon his everlasting power to perform miracles.”

Garrett nods. “Mind if we take a look?”

“Yes, actually. I do,” Your quick denial clearly catches him off guard, his eyebrows raising towards his hat. “Just as God bids us to modesty with our clothing, we must also show privacy and modesty in our places of worship. They’re sacred spaces. Surely you understand that, Sheriff,”

The words feel like poison on your tongue. Using worship and prayer to cover up a lie is the catalyst that makes bile feel like it's rising in your throat. It’s not a lie, you have to remind yourself. It is a makeshift altar, you do use it as a place of worship and prayer. Just . . . not right at this moment.

The reality of the situation is catching up with you, and you hide your slightly shaking hands by folding them together in front of you. You haven’t lied in years. You lied a lot as a child, a necessity of living with a father who’s anger could strike at a moment’s notice. You resented having to do it back then, forced to sin for the sake of trying to keep peace in the home. It’s much like the situation you find yourself in now, having to lie to try and protect another person. To protect yourself.

When you found refuge at the convent all those years ago, you were told you would never have to be untruthful ever again.

“God is granting you freedom from your woes,” You were told, and you remember how light those words had made you feel. “Thank him for His good graces with your undying loyalty and strive to always be who He guides you to be.”

You hadn’t lied since, no matter how tough things seemed. Sickly patients lying on their deathbed, scared and begging you for any kind of reassurance that it wasn’t the end for them. You wouldn’t give them false hope. Instead, you would tell them to turn their worries to the Lord, clasping their hands in yours and praying with them.

“Your soul is strong, bright and ever-present,” You would tell them. Sometimes you would let them hold your rosary so they can find comfort in it. “The body is a temple, and we do our best in our life to care for it. You’ve done that. If it weakens now, it is because God is calling your soul back to Him.”

The guilt is clawing at your chest, but you force it back as best as you can as you meet Garrett’s eyes. “I ask that you don’t force us to desecrate that,”

Garrett just stares at you, an unreadable expression on his face. One deputy just looks between you and Garrett, uncertain with how to proceed in the face of defying authority, and the other deputy that sneered at the thought of Billy even coming to the clinic scoffs at your words.

“Listen, lady, the law–”

“John, enough,” Garrett interrupts, voice shockingly hard as his eyes cut to his deputy. “She’s a Sister and you’ll show her respect.”

You feel a quick spark of satisfaction at the way the deputy’s confident, power hungry facade dies under the Sheriff's ridicule. He mumbles a quick apology to which you accept with a nod despite how insincere it sounds.

Garrett nods his head towards the door, silently gesturing for the other two to head towards the exit before he tips his hat at you directly, thanking you for your time and apologizing for any inconvenience their visit may have caused.

You want to tell him it was no inconvenience at all, but you’ve already sinned enough today and you can’t bear the thought of intentionally adding to the tally without justified need. Instead you settle on curving your lips into a convincing smile, thanking the men in return for their brevity and understanding and wishing them a good rest of their day as you usher them out of the back room and towards the front entrance.

Every single muscle in your body relaxes once they are completely out of the clinic, relief washing over you as you whisper out a quick prayer of thanks to God for allowing everyone to get out of the overwhelmingly dangerous situation unscathed - at least for now.

Sister Ann and Sister Catherine peek out of their respective rooms when they hear the front door swing shut, their wide eyes mimicking the relief you know is shown in your own.

“I can’t believe they didn’t find him,” Sister Ann admits, and it pains your heart to see tears begin to well up in her eyes. “I thought this was truly the end for all of us.”

You have her in your arms in an instant, cradling her small frame against your chest as she begins to cry in earnest. For as scary as it’s been for you so far, you can’t imagine what she’s been going through. Sister Ann and Sister Catherine have only known about Billy for less than no time at all. And yet, despite the short period of time between finding out about Billy, getting him into the alcove, and the entrance and departure of the Sheriff - you’re sure it probably felt like an eternity to her.

“Hush now, Sister,” You whisper, running a soothing hand along her back. “You’re safe, I promise.”

Sister Catherine places one of her hands on Sister Ann’s back as well, but she’s looking at you when she speaks. “He still can’t stay here,”

You know that. You know. You got lucky that the Sheriff didn’t find Billy this time, but who's to say that he won’t come back when he’s unable to find his missing outlaw anywhere else? Covering all his bases, that’s what he said. He’ll come back again when he sees that his other ‘bases’ have turned up nothing but dead ends.

Your older brother, Joe, has a cabin just outside of town. It’s a hidden place, specifically built for peace. No visitors. He lives alone, no wife or children to keep him company and he prefers it that way.

“If I’m alone, I can’t turn into him,”

You're positive he wouldn’t. Your brother is far from being anything like your father, but the task of trying to prove that to him seems to be out of your skillset. He tells you he’s happy with his life, that he’s chosen the path he feels he needs to be on just as you have. Who are you to pass judgment?

Joe likes the solitude, that much is certain. But he also has an adventurous spirit which guides him on lengthy trips from town to town, exploring all the world has to offer while never having to be tied to one place. He’s away now according to the last letter he sent you, planning to stay in Chihuahua, Mexico for a while and that he’s not sure yet when he’s going to be back.

“It’s dangerous,” Sister Catherine pushes, taking your silence as reluctance.

“I know,” You say. “I know. I think . . . I think I have an idea.”

The cabin will be empty. Joe isn’t due back for the immediate future, and even if he does return earlier than you suspect he will, you and Billy won’t be in danger. Joe can be trusted. He’ll help you, if need be. You can’t imagine that the Sheriff would ever know about it. It’s secluded - far off of any of the usual paths. It’s safe there. The perfect place to hide the wanted outlaw for a while. He can rest there, heal up uninterrupted for a few weeks until he can safely move around on his own two feet again.

Sister Catherine listens openly to the idea, but her face is pinched in displeasure.

“We don’t have much of a choice,” She says, reluctantly. “It seems like the best place for him to disappear to until he’s healed.”

You can hear the underlying pause in her agreement loud and clear. “But?”

“The clinic cannot spare two of us. We would lose half of our staff and it is too much for one person to handle alone per shift,”

“I wouldn’t ask any of you to come with us,” You say. No, for as much as you believe God sent Billy into your life for a reason, this was your mission to bear. You’ve already put your fellow Sisters through enough.

“You want to go alone?” Sister Ann sniffles, raising her head up from your chest.

“You need to think about this,” Sister Catherine says, sternly. “You shouldn’t be alone with him. He is a child of God, yes. But he is also an outlaw and a man. Sometimes, one of those is worse than the other.”

They’re being protective. The more rational part of you is grateful for their concern, and you think that if the positions were switched and one of them were in your position instead, you would react the same way. But a part of you is bitter. They’ve heard the stories. You know exactly how cruel men can be and you know exactly what they’re capable of. It’s a risk you’re taking, but you feel called to take it anyway. Billy needs your help, and God would never put anything in your path that you can’t handle.

“The Lord will protect me,” Despite the truthfulness of your words, you can see how they do little to reassure them. Your next words are better. “The Lord will help me protect myself.”

Sister Ann looks at Sister Catherine, once again bringing her hands together to pick at the reddened skin at the edge of her nail. Sister Catherine sighs, and the back of her hand reaches up to tap her forehead as if feeling the temperature or wiping away sweat.

“Alright,” She relents. “How do we get him to your brother’s cabin?”

“I don’t know,” You admit. “We need a wagon. Or a large wheelbarrow that we can put him in and attach it to a horse. I haven’t ridden a horse in a long time, but I’m sure I can manage.”

“Where are we supposed to get that?” Sister Ann’s tone borders on exasperated.

As if answering your unspoken prayer, the door to the clinic opens once more, this time revealing a bright faced Samuel Anderson, carrying a crate full of fresh supplies. And behind him, lit up by the sunlight like a bright blessing, is his wagon.

Sam Anderson is the son of local store owner, Edward Anderson, the clinic's top provider for basic supplies that are not strictly medical. While medicine shipments and more specialty items are donated from suppliers farther away, and frankly much less frequent than necessary, Mr. Anderson and Sam never fail to come through with plenty of food for you to make soups and nutritious meals for your patients. On occasion, you even have enough to give away to the families who are stacked together in a small two bedroom on the edge of town. With eight children total between two families, you're honestly not sure how they manage - but you do your best to help when you can.

Seeing Sam walk through the front door is like a beacon of light from Heaven is shining down on him. He’s smiling already, the crate of food handled carefully between his hands as he lets out a cheery, “Good morning, Sisters”. But as soon as he sees your faces, more specifically when he sees the tear tracks still visible on Sister Ann’s cheeks, he’s placing down the crate and across the clinic’s entrance in a second.

“What’s going on?” He asks. His hands automatically reach out towards Sister Ann’s face as if to cup it, but he stops himself. Instead he just looks at her worriedly, his concerned gaze leaving her face for only a moment to glance at you and Sister Catherine before they’re back on her, voice low and gentle. “What’s wrong?”

It’s no secret that Sam harbors some romantic feelings towards Sister Ann. There are days when you feel sorry for him - a young man, good and kind and generous, who you have no doubt would make a fine husband to any lucky woman is in love with one of the four women in the entire county who are incapable of returning his affection. But it’s moments like this when it’s easy to see God’s presence in other people. Sam is as respectful and kind as they come. He accepts his feelings can never be reciprocated and in turn uses his undying love and loyalty to Sister Ann by helping you all at the clinic with anything he can.

Somehow, he doesn’t expect anything in return, never stares at Sister Ann with an ounce of lust in his eyes, and it warms your heart to see the godly quality that’s usually so absent in men so prevalent in him.

“Something’s happened,” Sister Ann tells him, her voice still wobbly with emotion.

“What?”

“Sam,” You say, calling his attention back to you. “I know I have no place to ask this and I won’t fault you if you decline, but– I’m asking.”

“Tell me,” He insists, pulling his hat from his head and holding it to his chest, and God bless how the sincerity in his voice bleeds into his words. “Whatever it is, I’ll do it,”

So you tell him everything. Sam listens with wide eyes, shooting panicked glances at Sister Catherine and Sister Ann when you tell him about the Sheriff’s visit, and he’s genuinely sorrowful when your voice gets caught in your throat as you tell him that you had to tell some lies to get him to leave without discovering Billy. He’s nodding already when you mention your brother’s cabin.

“I’ll take you there,” He offers before you can even ask the question. “My wagon is always at your disposal.”

“It’s dangerous. If we’re caught, you would hang with us,”

Sam lets out a breath, unconsciously glancing over at Sister Ann again. “If the four most wonderful and religiously minded people in town hang for trying to do the right thing, then this isn’t a town or even a world that I want to live in anymore. Please let me take you. It would be my honor,”

A small smile graces your lips as you reach out and gently cup his cheek in thanks. For as many men pull and grind on your nerves with their endless greed and manipulation tactics, Sam is a breath of fresh air - a truly God-fearing man with a good heart.

He’s another person that you’re putting at risk, another life in danger because of the choice you’ve made. You try not to think yourself too selfish. Surely the fact that Billy has turned up in your life is God’s plan, and He does not put obstacles in your way that you cannot overcome.

He tells you that he’ll come back tomorrow. He has a delivery that’s expected in a town over and if he’s going to make it there and back before nightfall, he needs to leave before the sun comes up.

“I’ll stop here first,” He says. “We can load him into the back of the wagon while most people are sleeping and make the trip to your brother’s before I head on my way.”

“Thank you, Sam. Honestly,”

“My pleasure,” He nods his head at you, replacing his hat and tipping it kindly towards Sister Catherine and Sister Ann. “Until tomorrow, Sisters,”

The door swings shut behind him as he leaves and you let out a deep breath, hands smoothing over the dark veil covering your head just to feel a bit more grounded before you pick up the crate of food Sam brought. Billy needs to eat something. You're not quite sure how long it's been since his last meal, but even if he ate a minute before bursting through the clinic’s doors in the early morning, he would surely still be hungry and in need of sustenance by now. His body is weak and it needs nourishment to heal.

Billy’s still sleeping when you peek around the privacy blanket. His head is turned to the side and buried in his pillow as much as he can get it, mouth hanging open as he breathes. Your hand itches to reach out and touch him again, to smooth against his forehead or cup his cheek, maybe place your fingers under his chin to help close his mouth in hopes of him breathing through his nose instead so his mouth doesn’t dry out.

You’re not sure where this desire is coming from. You’re as affectionate with your patients as any nurse should be - kind and supportive, offering comfort when needed, but not overly so that it can be considered inappropriate. You’re all brothers and sisters, children of God - yes. But there are still social norms that must be considered.

It feels different with Billy for some reason.

“I’m going to get you to safety,” You whisper. You’re unsure about if he can hear you in his sleep or not, but you feel the need to tell him anyway. “I promise.”

You fall asleep at some point during the night, slumped against the wall next to the alcove’s entrance.

You don’t remember falling asleep. You remember feeling tired, exhausted by the stress of the day’s events, and how your eyelids were threatening to close permanently more and more with each blink. The soup you had made still sat out in the small kitchen, and you had wanted to stay close to Billy so that whenever he awoke, you would be there ready to help feed him.

Instead, you wake to the sound of Sister Maria giggling to your left and a low, unfamiliar but still soft voice speaking in Spanish to her.

“Y él no quería que su mamá lo supiera. Así enterró la carne en el jardín,” The voice lets out a small chuckle, the smile on his face evident in his tone despite you not being able to understand most of his words. “Pero el perro la desenterró y ella se descubrió de todos modos. Tuvo que lavar platos él solo por dos meses.”

“Ese niño,” Sister Maria laughs. “Parece que era un buen amigo.”

You can’t see his face, but you can hear how he loses the smile in his voice. “Sí, él era,”

Pushing yourself to your feet, you step over to where Sister Maria is kneeling in front of Billy’s cot. It’s only now you see the mostly finished bowl of soup in her hands. Billy’s sitting up slightly, back propped up against his pillows enough to allow him to sit up a bit straighter but not enough to pull too much on his stitches.

At seeing your movement, his eyes snap to your approaching frame, big blue orbs staring up at you and you can’t help the relief you feel at seeing them.

“You’re awake,” You breathe, a small smile pulling at your lips. “Thank the Lord,”

His lips twitch a bit in what looks like a suppressed smile. “Kinda sounds like I should be thankin' you,” He says, and you notice how prominent the shift in his accent is as he seamlessly switches from Spanish to English. “Sister Maria says that you’re the only reason I’m alive right now.”

You shake your head, humbly. “Oh, no. Sister Maria and I work together as a team. I couldn’t have done it without her aid,”

“You show no fear,” Sister Maria insists. “Where I hesitate, you show mercy and strength. It is because of you that we are all alive now.”

“See?” Billy says with a blinding grin, and you can’t help but notice how handsome he is while no longer at death’s door. “My angel,”

You feel your face heat up at the endearment. An angel. Surely the comparison shouldn’t fluster you like it does. You’ve thought of your fellow nuns as the embodiment of angels before, angelic beings put into human bodies by the grace of God to spread His word. You know that’s not exactly true, that you’re just using your belief of what God’s angels would be like and seeing those beings in your fellow Sisters just like Billy is doing with you now, but you’ve never once thought yourself to be comparable to such a holy being and the compliment makes you flush.

You run a hand across your face, feeling the warmth under your palm, and clear your throat. “Oh, well, thank you,”

Sister Maria stands, taking the nearly finished bowl of soup with her. “He has eaten plenty and I changed his covering as soon as he woke up. You will want to change it again when you get to the cabin.”

“That’s great. Thank you,”

“De nada. I’ll go check on the patients and keep an eye out for Sam,”

She nods to you and Billy before she turns to leave, a small smile pulling at her lips when Billy rasps out a soft, “Gracias, Hermana,”

When she’s gone, you take her place in front of Billy, kneeling at his side and placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “How are you feeling?”

“Much better thanks to you,” He responds, wide eyes trained on yours, a smirk playing at his lips as he continues. “Don’t feel much like I’m dyin’ anymore,”

A small laugh escapes you at his morbid joke. “Well, I’d say that’s a very good thing then,”

“Sister Maria said the Sheriff came lookin’ for me,”

“He did,” You confirm. “The Lord kept us all safe though and has given us an opportunity to get you to safety.”

Billy’s eyebrow raises skeptically. “Sounds like it was more your doin' than the Lord’s,”

You try to not let the slight against God rattle you. You had sensed this was coming anyway. William H. Bonney a.k.a Billy the Kid is an outlaw afterall, and no outlaw becomes an outlaw while still maintaining a positive relationship with the Heavenly Father. He’s gone through many hardships no doubt, and has more than likely deemed his bad luck in life as God’s personal vendetta against him.

“The Lord speaks through all of us, if only we have an open heart to hear him.” You tell him. “Fear can make His words harder to hear, and I’m thankful that He was able to guide my mind and heart enough through the fear for us to get to safety.”

“Hm,” Billy hums, and you can tell how much he doesn’t believe your words. He doesn’t argue though. “And where exactly is this safe place you’re gonna take me?”

“My brother has a cabin just outside of town. It’s well secluded and unknown to most. We’ll be safe there until you’re healed enough to go on your own.”

Billy’s eyes drop to your hand still resting on his shoulder, thick dark lashes casting shadows on his cheeks before his bright blue eyes are locked on yours again. “You gonna be takin’ care of me, Sister?”

“Of course, I will,” You reply. “We shall see you well again, Billy. I promise.”

His own arm crosses his chest so his hand can rest on your own, his eyes wide and so earnest as he whispers a quiet, “Thank you,”

It’s only about an hour longer before Sam arrives. It’s still early morning, the sun still a ways away from coming up behind the horizon line, and town is silent. Sam pulls his wagon up to the back door of the backroom before coming around the front to help push it open from the inside. It’s been so long since it’s been opened. The door was once used for the scheduled delivery of goods for easy access to the storage area, but as years went on and the county and surrounding counties became overrun with greed and poverty, the shipments became less frequent. Now, anything needed just comes through the front door. It’s never too much anyway, so what’s a trip or two to the backroom while carrying a crate.

Sam slams his body against the door a few times, the wood groaning in protest under his weight before it finally swings open. Billy watches from his place on the cot, his eyes threatening to close but forcing himself to stay awake. You want to tell him to sleep, he needs his rest to help him heal and recover, but you’re too busy checking your bag to make sure you haven't forgotten anything before tossing it in the back of the wagon. You need to leave before the townspeople start to wake up. If someone sees you, if just one person witnesses you smuggling away a wanted outlaw, then all of this would have been for nothing.

“Sister y/n,” Sam calls, squatting at the head of the cot. He’s got his arms wrapped around Billy’s torso. “Come grab his legs. We’ll do our best not to jostle his wound,”

You come to a kneel at Billy’s legs, placing a comforting hand on his knee. “Do your best to relax, okay? If you tense, you might tear your stitches,”

Billy lets out a harsh breath through his nose, clearly nervous, but he nods anyway, brows furrowed in determination.

Together you and Sam hoist him up. He gasps, groaning as his wound pulls but you can see how he’s trying to keep his stomach untensed. Getting him into the back of the wagon is not graceful, and you find yourself spewing endless apologies the whole time despite the relatively short journey.

Sam’s laid out a bed of hay covered by two thick blankets throughout the entire bed of the wagon. Crates of food and other supplies take up half of the bed, but he’s managed to make it so Billy will have enough room to lay comfortably on his designated side. Billy sighs as he’s laid down on it, one of his legs bent at the knee and his palms pressing into the makeshift mattress as he cranes his neck up to look at you. You ball up a spare blanket, tucking it under his head before you push him back down with a gentle hand on his forehead.

“Rest now, Billy,” You tell him, crawling out backwards and helping Sam slide on the rectangular backing on the wagon to secure it shut. “We’ll be there when you wake up,”

His eyes stay locked on you as you circle the wagon towards the front. Sam helps you up onto the spring seat before jogging around the rear and hauling himself into the driver's seat. You smooth out your tunic, looking around the dark street for any suspicious or wandering eyes that might be peeking out from around buildings or through windows. You don’t see any, even as one of the horses whinnies when Sam urges them forward. The clinic is located towards the edge of town, so it only takes a few minutes of nervous eyes and your head on a swivel before the wagon is passing the final few buildings that mark the town’s end of population and you can relax.

You blow out a deep breath, meeting Sam’s equally relieved gaze as he snaps the reins and nudges the horses a little faster. You look over your shoulder to check on Billy and you’re expecting to see him sleeping, no doubt still exhausted from the trauma of taking a bullet. Instead, he’s looking at you, head twisting so he can see your elevated frame from his laid out position. His eyes seem to pierce into yours, so blue and intense as he watches you that it makes your breathing hitch in your throat.

You’ve never seen eyes so beautiful before. Like endless pools of glistening water. Surely God must have taken much care when crafting them for him.

You feel your skin prickle under his stare, body straightening in your seat. He doesn’t stop watching you.

“Sleep,” You tell him. “You’re safe, I promise.” And thankfully he listens, eyes trained on your face for just a moment more before closing his eyes. The tingling feeling in your body dissipates with the removed gaze.

Your gaze turns around the front again, looking out to the vast stretch of land before you as you leave the civilization of town behind.

“Sam,” You start, looking for anything to pass the time and distract from whatever unusualness just happened between you and your charge. “How’s your mother?”

#𝑇𝑎𝑙 𝑊𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑒𝑠 ✎#billy the kid smut #billy the kid x reader smut #billy the kid x reader #dark!billy the kid #tw: noncon #tw: non con #tw: dubcon #tw: dubious consent

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clemblog · 2 months

Text

Caine’s Lesson - Part 7

•

Gummigoo wasn't kidding when he said his Ma's food was good. Caine's food from that one evening after the gloinks couldn't compare. It was full of so much more flavour and taste.

"Penny for your thoughts, Poms?" Grinned Gummigoo, coming to sit across from her with his own bowl.

"You weren't kidding when you said it was good-" Mused Pomni, sheepishly.

He chuckled at such.

"We don't lie round these parts Poms, you'll learn that quick if you stick with us."

"I-It'll be fun to see!" Smiled Pomni, shyly with a hum. "So... When do you wanna do the uh shooting practice?"

"Ah yeah! I figured once we've eaten, I'll speak to Ma real quick and then we can get started! Sound good to you?"

"T-That sounds good to me-"

"Snazzy."

The two continued to eat happily with occasional words of conversation, mostly happy to just exist aside one another.

It was the peace Pomni had been wanting for the last few days.

It was the peace Gummigoo hadn't known he'd needed for the last few weeks.

The pair were soon headed over to a little clearing by the main ranch house. It was surrounded by fencing and had a few shabby targets nailed together at the end.

"Welcome to Pa's shooting range, Poms." Grinned Gummigoo. "This is where I learned to shoot, and now it's where you'll learn too!"

"I-I'm excited to learn!" Beamed Pomni, sheepishly.

"I'm glad to hear that! Now come stand here."

Pomni moved to stand in front of the mark. She looked up and saw she was stood inline with the centre target.

"First, we'll work on accuracy!"

He moved to stand behind her and crouched down. He tenderly placed his pistol into her hands, making sure to position her hands on the right position.

"Now, this is how you hold ya pistol! Try to hold it like this as much as you can, otherwise the force back from after you shoot can hurt ya hand. And you don't wanna do that, trust me, I learnt from experience."

"N-Noted! Hold the gun safely- As much as you can-"

He hummed at this approvingly with a nod. "Now, what you wanna do is line up this little eye piece right about here on the target."

He slowly moved her aim into position.

"You would think to aim here, right? Well, these bad boys are different! Pa made em on an angle, so wild shots have a higher chance of being accurate. Does mean however that every casual shot you take is gotta be on an angle."

“Right..” Nodded Pomni, slowly.

“Now all you gotta do is click here.” He hummed softly, guiding her hand with his atop it to the trigger.

*Bang!*

Pomni had successfully shot a gun!

“I did it!” She grinned, looking up to Gummigoo.

“You sure did Pommy!” He hummed, returning the grin. “You were so close to a bullseye but hey, practice makes perfect, aye?”

“Definitely!”

He helped her take a few more shots, only sitting back to watch when Pomni felt confident enough to shoot on her own. She was picking up the skill amazingly fast! It was natural talent Gummigoo hadn’t seen in a while- He most definitely would have to talk to Ma about making Poms her own gun. He watched the way she’d flinch back a little from the force of his gun. If she had one accustomed to her, he had a hunch she’d be shooting better than Max and Chad in no time!

Ma was awfully busy though with all the Candy Kingdom Citizens, so he figured he might as well take some time in the next evening to make Pomni a gun! That way she would be well equipped to join himself, Max and Chad on scouting adventures.

So, that’s what he set off to do! Leaving Poms to her practice.

•

Zooble was sat watching Gangle draw in her notebook when Kinger and Ragatha came over.

“H-Hi you guys!” Squeaked Gangle, softly in her usual tone.

“Hey.” Nodded Gangle.

“Hello!” Smiled Ragatha, gently. “Is it okay if we join you? Kinger thought it may be a good idea if I hung out with you guys for a bit to try and get my mind off Pomni-“

“O-Oh sure!” Nodded Gangle.

The two sat down.

A content silence fell over the group, the only sound being the scratch of Gangle’s pencil. After a few minutes work, she ripped out a page and handed it out to Ragatha.

“I-I know you’re sad about Pomni s-so I figured I might do you a drawing of her so it feels like she’s still with you!” She explained, sheepishly.

Ragatha was quiet for a few minutes looking over the sketch of her with Pomni.

“…GANGLE THIS IS SO SWEET OF YOU-“

Gangle squeaked as she was pulled into a crushing hug by Ragatha, her happy mask flung off but was caught by Zooble luckily.

“Gosh! I’ll have to make you something in return- This is to perfect Gangle!” Beamed Ragatha.

“O-Oh! Alright-“ Smiled Gangle, sheepishly as Zooble gently placed her happy mask back onto her face.

“You tell me what you want and I’ll get on it! Or I can make it a surprise-“

“A surprise could be fun-“ Murmured Gangle, shyly.

“A surprise it is then!”

Zooble put an assuring arm around Gangle sensing her growing anxiety from being overwhelmed by Ragatha’s sudden excitement.

Things weren’t perfect right now, but at least they had each other!

Part 8

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bouncybongfairy · 11 months

Text

Business Partners

Lip Gallagher x Fem Reader

Summary: While helping Lip with the Ice Cream truck, things take a heated turn.

Work Count: 2.5k+

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

It was a hot summer day on the Southside. The type of heat that requires two cold showers a day to rinse accumulating sweat. You were sitting on the porch with a couple of neighborhood friends. The living room was the only room with a swamp cooler and your dad was hosting a poker game with a couple of buddies. You didn’t want to be around all the cigar smoke. At least outside there was air circulation to slightly combat the heat. You swatted a fly away from your face and sighed. It was 5pm, and the sun was just barely letting up. Your friends had left, unable to take the scorching heat any longer. You were happy they left early because you were about to offer a blunt that your dad rolled for you; which meant it would be rolled extremely well. After lighting it you looked around and saw Lip on his porch. He was wearing a muscle tank and shorts. His hair that was normally wild was slightly weighed down slightly with sweat.

Distracted by his appearance you didn't immediately notice that he was walking towards you. As he got closer, he took one last drag of the cig and flicked it into the street. Not wanting to show the insecurity, you didn't change your position on the porch; your back was pressed against the small cement wall with your legs crossed and lay straight out on a step.

"Hey, you're uh, Y|N right?" He asked, crossing his arms.

"Yes," You said.

"Are you busy?" He asked.

"I'm sorry, do I know you?" You said; of course you knew him, not personally, but his reputation precedes him.

"No, I was a teacher's aid in your 5th period math class this last year. I graded alot of your work and you are fucking amazingly quick and accurate with 90% of your work. Anyway, I have an ice cream truck that I operate with a neighbor but he can't make it tonight. I was wondering if you would help me tonight? If not, it's cool though," He said, using both hands to push his hair back.

"Give me like 30 minutes?" You asked standing up.

"See you at 5:30," He said.

After walking back into the house and saying hello to your dad and his friends you dart to your room. You look around your room trying to figure out what to wear. You weren't scared or nervous to hang out with him. You had been in relationships with people and maybe even had one or two one night stands. The idea of hanging out with a new boy didn't intimidate you in the slightest. You grab your pink cotton mini skirt and a white tank top before going to the bathroom to rinse your body off and change clothes. It only took you about 15 minutes to get in and out of the bathroom. Once you get back to your room you start gathering your stuff into a purse. Simple things like chapstick, mascara, vape, and your wallet. You threw a cardigan on and grabbed your phone before heading out.

You gave your dad a bullshit excuse about hanging out at your friend Jenny's house as you left. Once you walk outside, the beat up ice cream truck pulls up to the curb outside your house. Having to pull a couple of times you finally get the passenger door open. There wasn't a passenger seat, only a white fold out chair that was set up. You take your cardigan off and lay it over the seat before sitting.

"Am I allowed to smoke in here?" You asked, taking out the barely smoked blunt that you were puffing on earlier.

"Only if you share," He said playfully, starting to head towards the park.

"So do you only sell ice cream?" You asked.

"Straight to the point? We sell joints but nothing more extreme than that. Distribution to a minor isn't a charge that I really want," He said, you handed him the blunt which he carefully took.

"I don't think it'll matter if you want it once you have it," You said laughing.

"Fair enough," He said.

Once you got to the park things became way more relaxed. Lip explained not to sell to kids who are too young; if a dad came to the car with kids try to insinuate what you guys really sell. There was a line of about four people, you were trying to get through them as quickly as you could considering it was starting to get dark. Lip was behind you rolling joints as fast as you were selling them. Having him behind you was making your stomach flip every once in a while. It reminded you of when you would make contact with each other in math class. It happened at least once everyday that Lip would bother to show up. He has such a poker face that it can be hard to read him, most of the boys at your school were clueless. You could read them as easily as Doctor Seuss, they only really cared about a few particular things: sex, drugs, overly sexist pop culture figures and other frivolous concepts. There was no mystery to them because they were all overly vocal and aggressive. As if you were engaging in a conversation they started, was verbal confirmation that you were into them.

Lip on the other hand, didn't feel the need to be aggressive or out spoken to maintain a certain level of masculinity; which is extremely attractive. You had also heard from the grapevine that he was extremely good in bed. This intrigued you because the couple boys you had slept with were.. bad to put in bluntly. It always felt so impersonal, it went from kissing directly sex which at times was painful. One of your friends confided in you about when she and Lip hooked up at a party. It was the first time anyone had given her head before they had sex. She explained to you that she never realized that penetrative sex could be so enjoyable. Everything about him was just so intoxicating. The way he made eye contact from the moment he started a conversation to the moment he ended it. You broke your day dreaming to help the last customer who came up to the window. He was an older man in a construction uniform. Before you could even greet him Lip put a hand on your shoulder and motioned for you to sit down.

You sit down and light one of the joints that he rolled. The man kept trying to peer over the window to see you but Lip kept moving to block his view; this made you blush a deep shade of red. It was things like that: instead of calling him out verbally he used more subtle ways of proving his point. This just touched on how smart and strategic he was in his actions. You tuck your hair behind your ear and stare up at Lip. He was still wearing that muscle-tee, exposing his shoulders and arms. Due to the heat, his body was covered in a thin layer of sweat. Making his features pop out that much more. He closed the window and pulled out another chair to sit down with you. You pass him the joint and cross your legs.

"What do you think of the business?" Lip asked.

"I think I deserve 20% of today's profits," You said, smirking.

"Usually 10% is average for new business partners," He said.

"Yeah well, I am a bit over qualified as you admitted," You said.

"Fair enough," he said letting the joint hang from his lips as he pulled a wad of cash out of his pocket, "20% of 300 is-"

"60 bucks," You said, interrupting him, holding out your hand. He laughed and handed the money to you.

"Oh I wasn't being super serious, you keep it. I've already been smoking your supply so don't even worry about it," You said pushing the money back.

"Well it would have been worth it. I love Kev to death but he needs a fucking calculator while he serves people," Lip said ashing the joint into a glass mug.

You made small talk about life, you told him about the job you have at your dad's liquor store. Lip was surprised that you held a job considering your grades. You explained how you're gonna use school as a tool to leave the Southside. It's not like you hated living here but you really wanted to live in California. He explained to you that he wasn't concerned with school right now but that maybe one day he would go. You didn't bother giving him the 'if you just applied yourself' speech because you were sure he heard it a million times over. After sitting at the park for a while you convince Lip to go to one of your favorite food spots: Gus Jr.

"Wouldn't it be funny if we left the truck hotboxed so that when we open the window to pay the worker gets blasted with smoke?" You propose while taking a rag.

"Where do you come up with this shit, that's an amazing idea," Lip said laughing and extending his arm to get the joint.

Lip committed so hard to the scheme that he got out of the car to order in order to keep the smoke from escaping through the opened window. You got a chicken burger and Lip got a standard cheeseburger. Once he got back in the car you both lit a joint each and started huffing on it as fast as you could. You tried but you couldn't keep up with Lip, it was like he was just breathing smoke without needing air. There was so much smoke in the car that it was beginning to burn your eyes. You grab your purse and pull your wallet out and hand Lip two twenties. He didn't take the money and before you could protest this, the window attendant was trying to get Lip's attention. He rolled down the window and a wave of smoke poured out.

"Oh sorry about that, I had no idea it was so hot boxed in here. That's my bad," Lip said acting clueless; the commitment he had to this was making it extremely hard to hold back your laughter.

"That's what's up bro, when the window opened my mouth started watering," The young man with dyed hair and piercings said.

"If we give you a free joint will you give me a strawberry shake?" You asked, getting up from your seat and over Lip.

Your head stuck out the window, one hand was on the window and your other hand was pulling down the back of your skirt. You were covered in a thin layer of sweat which was causing your white tank top to stick to your chest. When you pulled your other hand back from behind yourself, you accidentally brushed your hand against Lip's crotch. Even though it was an accident, you were happy it happened. You grabbed the joint that was tucked behind his ear. This kid was practically drooling, without speaking he nodded in agreement and rushed back into the kitchen. Lip gently rested his hand on your lower thigh, rubbing his hand up and down. You turned to look back at him and the look on his face was making you melt. It was completely dark by this point but Lip was so red it looked like he'd been out in the sun for hours. You broke eye contact to greet the manipulatable Gus Jr worker who came back.

"Thank you so-so much," You said, handing the joint to him after he handed her the shake and bags of food.

He muttered a shy 'not a problem' as you sat back down on your chair. Lip drove away and found a place to park so they could eat. He ended up finding an abandoned parking garage, driving the truck to the top floor. You both sat on the white fold out chairs and started eating. The straw was covered in whipped cream, Dutch Bro style. You licked a drip of melting cream coming down the lid of your shake cup. Then take the straw into your mouth, cleaning the whip cream off.

"Are you doing that on purpose?" Lip asked, shoving a handful of fries into his mouth.

"No but I don't blame you for thinking that, it was inadvertently sexual," You said.

"Oh don't get me wrong. It still would have been hot if you were doing it on purpose but somehow it's that much hotter knowing you weren't thinking about it," He said, washing down a mouthful with his Pepsi.

"Is that the only reason you asked me to help you tonight? To get in my panties?" You asked.

"No, if I only wanted to hook up I would have just asked to fuck. I think you're a dime and smart. I take you more seriously than a girl I just wanna have sex with," He said.

"Flattering truly, and here I thought this night would end in you begging to get off in some way," You said finishing off your burger. Lip playfully out his hands to his chest as if he was hurt.

"Oh please princess Y|N, let me have the honor of eating you out," He mocks, holding his hands together as if he was praying.

"Wish granted," You said, spreading your legs slightly.

"Are you serious?" He asked.

You spread your legs wider and wrap your lips around straw from the shake. You nod your head yes and wait for his reaction. He wiped his hands down on his shirt before getting off his chair. He got on his knees in front of you and kissed you on each knee. Then runs his hands up the outside of your thighs, hooking his fingers around your thong. He pulls it down eagerly yet gently, letting them fall around one ankle. He trailed small pecks along your inner thighs, making your legs twitch. He started kissing your lips, like he was teasing you before dipping his tongue in. Once he did, you threw your head back, pushing your pelvis closer to his face. It started slow, like he was getting to know your anatomy. You run your fingers through his hair, moaning while looking up at the ceiling. When you looked down at Lip, he was already staring at you. You giggle and look away, embarrassed that he had been looking at you without you knowing.

He starts to speed up, flicking his tongue quickly against your clit. You pull at his hair which causes him to moan against you. Feeling the vibrations from his lips against you made you buck yourself into his face. One of his hands moves from gripping your thigh to your pussy. He inserts his middle and ring finger into you, thrusting them in and out at a painfully slow speed. He sped up his tongue and the combination of slow thrusts with his over stimulating fast tongue was driving you crazy. Your stomach was so warm it was starting to feel like you were burning.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum," You whine out, trying your hardest to keep yourself from doing so. It felt so good that you didn't want to end it by cumming so fast.

No longer being able to hold yourself back you begin to orgasm. One leg stayed on the ground bouncing up and down while you lifted the other one. Using his hair to pull him in closer to you, your head was fully tipped back and you were moaning out quite loudly. He pulled away from you and took his shirt off, wiping his face off before cleaning you up.

"Would the head I just gave you be considered part of that 20% profit you're entitled to?" He asked playfully.

"Shut the fuck up," You say laughing, smacking him in the shoulder. He laughed and drove you home.

#fanfic writing #smut #lip gallagher #lip gallagher smut #lip gallagher x reader #shameless #weed#shameless fanfic#smoking #lip gallagher x fem reader #y/n #lip gallagher x y/n #lip gallagher imagine #lip gallagher fanfiction #lip gallagher x you #lip Gallagher x y/n

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slashingdisneypasta · 7 days

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Okay, I've read almost all your toon patrol Stuff and it's so cute(and horny)!! (I'm a big Greasy fan girl and you write him amazingly) I also found your incorrect quotes rlly funny to, so here's one I think would match Greasy

Greasy: "Okay- here are the ground rules, you can punch me, kick me, pull my hair.l am I am A-okay with being stabbed, Biting and scratching are on. The. Table!- and You can use fire-"

Y/n: these are the ground rules?? Is there anything off limits??-

Greasy: "....dang man.. you got something really sick you want to do huh?~ oh you little pervert~"

(idk if you still do the incorrect qoutes anymore, but even if you don't just have this one lol)

I am a l w a y s doing and accepting incorrect quotes. XD

Especially when they're this accurate ☠️☠️☠️ Greasy!!! Pull it together!! XDDD He's living for this XD

Oh and from one Greasy fangirl to another- here's an idea to do with what you will: Feral horny Greasy. He's got no time and no patience for pretences of seduction or charm (as bad as he is at it to begin with), he just has to sink into his s/o. He had the day off for once and he had n o c l u e what to do with it. Especially since you would be at your work all day- So he cleaned every nook and cranny of your place. And he baked. And he cooked you both dinner for when you got back. And then when he could think of nothing else to do, body still full of energy usually saved up for work, he decides to read his ~books~ and any magazines he has stashed away. Maybe a few movies. ... but he can't get off on his own, because your damn scent is everywhere and every time that he breathes he remembers that it could be your pussy/ass squeazing him and not his hand, and-

And by the time you get home he he is HOPPED UP on porn and he just has to have you. He's behind you in an instant, asking you hurriedly how your day was? if everyone was good? do you want to eat? he made casserole? he could make you a salad too if you want?? He wants you to get settled as soon as possible so he can ravage you. Let him take your bag. Let him take your coat. Let him take your shirt, your pants, your underwear-

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electronicwitchcollection · 6 months

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Hey. So, I read accidental mate in the bleach tag and I wanted to tell you you’re insanely awesome. I have never in my life read a Y/N fic because it’s not my thing but you’re phenomenal. I’ve been visiting your page daily to see if you’ve been updating and saw your post which said you’d been too occupied by too many ideas which I completely understand and relate to so I’m waiting patiently for the day you decide to upload the rest of the chapters. They’re worth it. Like that scene when you understood that Grimmjow hadn’t kissed anyone ever and she adapts her kiss to suit him. What kind of genius was that? It was wonderful to read. Also, your Y/N is soooo not annoying. I always expect the MC to be too innocent or unaware but honestly I kinda love her and wish her and grimmjow a happy life at this point. I’ve been thinking about messaging you for a week but yeah. You’re a wonderful writer. Very engaging. Every character, particularly female, you write them superbly well. I’m in love. Thank you for writing. I can kinda see just why it’s necessary for people to write what they want because if you hadn’t published it I’d never have read it and that kinda makes me sad. So, yeah.

So I have read this about a dozen times, and I’m still yet to come up with any combinations of words to accurately describe how this has made me feel. All I can really say is thank you, thank you for your kind words and support. I’m literally blown away with your praise, I haven’t been able to take this grin off my face for the past two hours.

Honestly, I never imagined the amount of people this story would reach, and how many of those would love it as much as I do. I’m aware I’ve indulged heavily on Grimmjow’s more animalistic/hollow part of his personality, but I’ve seen so many amazing fan fiction that didn’t delve into it, that I couldn’t stop thinking about it.

Reader figuring out Grimmjow had never kissed before was one of my personal favourites, but when I take the time to think about it, of corse he has never kissed anyone like that. He has been driven by his primal survival instincts for as long as he could remember, when would he have indulged in the practices of humans?

I once saw someone compare him to beast from beauty and the beast, and while it made for an interesting read, I could t associate the character with Grimmjow. The beast was a human, a prince. Grown up human and then transformed into a best. But he still has a man’s heart, his human brain. Grimmjow IS a beast. He has a hunters mind, a survivors heart, he’s only now learning about humans and their customs and adapting through it.

I also sometimes struggle with female OC’s / YN. Only because so many of them are either absolutely useless damsels in distress or some incredibly over powered, bad ass that it no longer makes sense with the fandom. So thank you, for realising how much effort I put into making a believable YN, someone who I hope most readers could associate with on some level. Is she so amazingly strong that she could take down Aizen with the snap of her fingers? No, of corse not, but that doesn't mean she doesn’t have her own strengths. Does she have flaws? Absolutely. Doesn’t mean she is powerless to help herself and others.

I actually loosely base all the female character off myself, as I find it easiest to put myself into the scenarios and decide how I would act. So the fact others are reading this loose representation of me, and like it! Finding her funny, relatable, kind and everything else, it honestly makes my heart want to burst.

Thank you again for reaching out, for making me so incredibly happy and proud of what I’m writing. Thank you to everyone who takes time out of their life to read what I write, to like share and comment on it. I love interacting with everyone and hearing what you love and other takes you have on the situation. I’m eager to write some more accidental mate tonight, encouraged by your love for the story. thank you 💜

#bleach #bleach fandom #bleach fanfiction #Accidental mate #Asks #cant get this smile off my face

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bones-of-a-rabbit · 1 year

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I already made a really big comment on the fic page but I can't not scream here also.

BABBIT!!! THAT NEW CHAP!!! HOLY COW

First of all it was AMAZINGLY WRITTEN and it gave so SO MANY FEELINGS that it should be ILLEGAL

There was so much anxiety I feel like I could cut it with a knife and serve it to a whole family

Me and reader (let's be honest they are basically an oc at this point) were hand in hand there. Like buddy I Feel You

They were asking themselves "what if" and I was sitting in the back, crushing a pillow between my arms and yelling back "YEAH WHAT IF" because what if you had decided to turn things south for the giggles. What if it went just as wrong as we worried it would. WHAT IF IT TOOK ANOTHER WHOLE CHAPTER TO FIX IT

I really love this fic. Is between my favorite ones. Thank you so much for putting out another chapter

You worked really hard, remember to take a rest too, yeah? Pretty please

Health is important!! You are too

Anyway. An accurate image of what was actually happening in that room this chapter:

Us both freaking the hell out

IM SORRY I PROMISE I DIDNT MEAN TO GIVE ANYONE ANY ACTUAL ANXIETY ATTACKS I SWEAR I JUST WANTED TO MAKE IT LIKE YOU COULD GET THE VIBES OF WHAT Y/N WAS RLLY GOING THRU JKSJDHFJSHDF IM SORRY AUGHsdfjshd

god ok but ur art is cute and i love it i wanna tattoo it on my eyeballs

#heart eyes at ur art im sorry i love it too much #banfiyunna #art to be adored #fanfic update #chapter ten #gushing #it was in reality not fine fic #bones of a rabbit #it was in reality not fine

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bonesandthebees · 2 years

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HI BEE !! 14 n 27 for the end of year fic asks :]

Hi ren!!! <33

14. already answered this!

27. favorite fanfic author of the year

this is such a mean thing to ask bc I have so many amazingly talented author friends I wanna shoutout :(

ok. I'll go by whose volume of work I've read the most of. though first I am gonna say if I'm saying this person I gotta shout out two other people. meridies and thanotaphobia are not only great friends of mine but amazing authors as well so if you somehow haven't read either of their stuff go do that rn

but from a completely non-friendship standpoint (ignoring the fact that we were literally in a call for almost 12 hours the other day) my favorite author of the year would have to be eli birdfeet.

I discovered eli's fic Black Honey pretty early on this year before I'd ever spoken to them directly, and I was FLOORED at how well they characterized crimeboys. I'd never seen crimeboys in an au written in a way that was so accurate to the canon dsmp relationship as I have in that fic. eventually, thanks to roxy thanotaphobia I got to meet eli directly, and I started reading more of their works. I just love their writing style. the way they set atmosphere and tone, their use of imagery and word choice—it's so fucking good. they have such a gritty and realistic kind of writing style that gives their fics such a specific tone that I can't get enough of. I've read everything on their ao3 and I'm so excited for their current wip to be finished. they're such a talented writer and I'm so happy I got introduced to their works.

ask game!

#ask game #zrenia

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mbti-enemies · 2 years

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Oi oi! Could you, please, recommend me a reliable source where I could learn more about MBTI and all that [3w4 9w1 etc] stuff? I find it quite interesting but I don't know where to look into it

edit: damnn just checked the reblogs and @child-of-plut0 has written amazingly and given me so much to learn from too. my typology knowledge is in truth quite limited and i shouldve started with that. so yeah go check out in the reblogs or here what they've written. i've come back and oranged the things they said weren't actually that good. i also did manage to do a quick scroll through of an mbti guide they recommended and i absolutely loved it but would say you should come into it with some basic knowledge first.

helloooi idk about enneagram things ("3w4 9w1 etc")- i've heard that wikipedia, yes wikipedia, is a good place for that. if anyone can help anon out here that would be awesome

i've checked out this site before and it seemed cool but someone more knowledgable than me said it was the 16P of enneagram and we wouldn't want that

anyways yes that brings me onto another point - places nOT to get MBTI knowledge for is 16Personalities..... if you'd like a commonly-used site for mbti-tests truity would be better

Anyways here's one site i use for mbti's cognitive functions. there's a link on the page to stuff about preferences (eg E/I, S/N) if you haven't quite got that under the belt then that's the place to start.

i hate to do this. truly. but also frank james makes good educational mbti videos on his youtube channel. here's one on functions thats a mind-scrunching quick intro that i love. but he makes other accurate videos too i think even the funny ones help to get to grips with the types stereotypes wait sorry no i meant overviews

mbti humour is so good for learning about the types in a wholesome way that doesn't require too much thinking. similarly, the personality database where you can find your fav characters' types which is acc quite fun. also typing others and characters is such a good way to get comfortable with traits and then functions for all the types and its very fun so highly recommend

have fun mbti-ing :))

#ask #mbti

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situstogel88livertp · 6 months

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beanswrites · 2 years

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The Arcana Wikipedia Trivia Facts, Asra

Okay but have any of you ever read the trivia facts on Wikipedia for the Main 6?? Because they are golden material for headcanons. And they are so awfully but yet amazingly random. I love them. So here are those facts as comments on them and headcanons in a little series, this time for Asra.

Gender neutral MC!

masterlist | rules for requesting | prompts list

"Although referred to with he/him pronouns in-game, Asra is canonically non-binary"

Yes, Wikipedia, I'm pretty sure every single Asra simp knew that.

"Hey, Asra, can I ask you something?" Asra, MC's master and partner smiled, lovingly looking in their eyes. "Sure, My Star, what is it?" Stopping for a second, MC continued. "What do you identify as? I mean, i know that you present masculine and use he/they pronouns. I'm sorry if that's too personal or-" He cut MC off. "No, no, it's alright My Love. I guess that gender was always just an aspect for me, something I didn't want to oblige to. It felt too.. Too restricting, you know? And, as a magician, restrictions were never an option for me"

Some inspiration for him came from Howl Jenkins and Yoshitaka Amano’s art for Vampire Hunter D.

OHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGOD-

calling all artists of all kinds of fanart: ASRA AS HOWL. ASRA AS FUCKING HOWL. That's it. Thank you.

Asra Jenkins, the famous magician, the thief of hearts. He travelled around in his famous moving castle, with Faust - a powerful demon cursed by him, his friend. Every girl and every man has dreamed of him, but warned every time about the danger that the magician is. And everyone was scared, terrified to not be the next feast of the heart-eating man. But not MC, no - they loved Asra, traveling with him and his castle to all sorts of places. And sure, the crowds could be scared - not even knowing what a sweetheart he is behind closed doors.

The name Asra is of Arabic origin, which means "travel at night".

Yep, accurate. They do seem like they travel most of the time during the night.

"Asra? Why can't we leave now?" He shook his head, not taking his eyes of the bag he was packing. "No, my love, we can't. We must wait for sundown, okay? It is easier to travel at night" MC looked at them confused. Wasn't he the one to always worn about dangers that could happen? "But, Asra.. There are more monsters at night, besides, it's colder" Without a word, he came over to his lover and placed his scarf around their shoulders. "There, now you won't be cold, my star. I know that it's pretty dangerous at night, but it's also when the stars are active! And stars help me know where to go"

He is known to have unusual tastes in food. Among his less eccentric favourites are rainbow sorbet and blue raspberries.

How "unusual" are we talking?? Like, fries dipped in ice cream kind of unusual or a hot-dog dipped in vanilla pudding (don't ask) kind of unusual?

"I- Ehrm.. Babe? Why are you eating raisins like that?" MC asked, stunned at his strange appetite. "What, can I not eat them?' He asked back, offended and stubborn. "N-no, it's not that.. What I meant was why are you eating your raisins with mustard and ketchup??"

"Want some, my moolight?" They asked, handing MC a bowl of the strange ice cream. They huffed out, unsure of how it would taste. "Uhh.. Sure" To not hurt their partner's feelings, MC took a spoonful in their mouth. Surprisingly, it wasn't awful. "Mmm, Asra, these raspberries go great with the sorbet!" He smiled wide, offering them more. "I knew you would like it, my star"

Julian is the most impulsive thing that he has ever done.

They DID NOT.

Okay whoever wrote these is my favorite person ever

"Hey, Asra, you seem like a put-together person, with a plan. Have you ever done something stupid or impulsive that you regret?" MC asked in the tavern, having a drinking night with their friends. Asra, a bit dozed off himself, smirked. "Well, the most impulsive thing I have ever done is doctor Devorak over here" Poor Julian chocked on his drink, not believing what his ex admitted. To make him ever more flustered, Asra smiled his Chershire Cat grin and added: "But I certaintly don't regret it!" And just like that, Julian was a blushing, stuttering mess.

His favorite season is Spring.

Yeah, seems legit. His whole vibe and general aura is kind of like that - flower-y and spring-y.

"Don't you just love the spring, MC?" He asked them, in absolute awe of the newly greened trees. "I didn't pay much attention to it before, but you've shown me how beautiful spring can be! So, now, I do love it!" MC admitted, tightening their hold on Asra's hand. "Not as beautiful as you, but you do remind me of spring. You shine so bright, and you have so much energy and kindness, that you are just bursting with love and life. Just like spring"

He knows how to do cool showy knife tricks.

Mhm. Can confirm. And he probably shows them any chance he gets, like he is constantly trying to find a reason to do those tricks.

"Hey, look MC!" The magician's partner laughed, continuing what they were doing. "I know, love, I know. You've shown me that trick at least a million times!" They kind of slumped at that, but quickly regained their vibe. "But look, I learned a new one!" MC watched as he twisted the sharp dagger between his fingers, making cool little spins and twists. "One day, you're gonna lose a finger" MC laughed, pressing a kiss on his cheek.

He speaks three languages.

Three?? Just three?? I thought he spoke more! Not that I'm bashing him, three is still a lot, but I thought he knew many from how much he travels around!

"Asra.. Honey, please.. You can't just talk in a language I don't understand when we're fighting! How do I know that you're not insulting me all the time?!" MC was fed up with him and his behavior. Little did they know, the things Asra said while speaking like that weren't mean nor insulting. It actually ment: "My Sun, I love you more than you'll ever know, and I hate fighting with you"

He has an airy, intimate voice.

do NOT do this to me I am very weak-

The way Asra spoke sent shivers down MC's spine. Not particularly because of his sweet words, but because of his even sweeter voice. It wasn't particularly low or high, nothing like they've ever heard before. The way they talked was soft, hushed, intimate and gleaming with the aura only they could master so beautifully. But MC was sure that his voice sounded the best when whispering those three little words they loved so much. "I love you.."

He has very soft hair.

As I said before in my fluff headcanons, this is correct. He just looks like he has clouds for hair

For this headcanon, click here

His sleeping habits are 'predictably unpredictable'.

They really do, indeed, seem like they have a pretty messed up sleep-schedule. Because they travel a lot, they don't sleep that consistently.

"Asra, it's 3 in the morning! You need sleep!" He grunted, unhappy and clearly trying to concentrate. "I can't now, baby. I'm trying to figure out how to make this potion work..." MC left the room, with an unsatisfied "Okay, do what you want, but don't complain to me when you can't keep your eyes open tommorow!"

Tommorow night, Asra was out cold at 7:30, when Nadia and Portia came over for a cup of tea. "And Asra? Where is he? Off to some adventure, I suppose?" Nadia asked, sipping on her tea. "No, no, they're here. The idiot stayed up all night last night for some project of his, so he's already asleep!"

Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think about these crazy, random facts. Love you!!

#the arcana #the arcana game #the arcana visual novel #requests are open #asra the arcana #asra alnazar #the arcana wikipedia trivia facts #asra alnazar headcanons #asra x apprentice #asra x mc #asra x gn! reader #headcanons #the arcana headcanons

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thedanoriddler · 2 years

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Hello!! I love you and your writing sm <33 do you think you could possibly write something abt Eddie being super supportive of you and your passions and interests outside if your relationship? Like being super supportive of your writing and career. Thank you!! thank you!! thank you!!

Oh my GOD, yES?!?

I’ve kind of gone with the writing idea you mentioned but I’m happy to do headcanons about his interest in other hobbies/things you guys love!

✍️ Edward Nashton x writer!reader headcanons ✍️

First of all, when you first meet and you tell him you’re a writer, Eddie is so intrigued and immediately starts asking what you write, what genre etc., showing so much interest in it

It’s almost a little overwhelming, how interested he is in your work, because no one has been this interested in your writing before - but it’s in a good way

He’s extremely interested in whatever you write, whether it’s a book, a script, a play… whatever it is, he’s so interested and always wants to hear about it - he doesn’t just ask and then not listen to the answer, he genuinely is interested in what you tell him

When you get frustrated or down with writers block, he makes you tea or coffee and gets you a slice of your favourite cake or pie (or whatever snack you like!), and he urges you to take a small break because maybe stepping away from it will help

He’s also happy to hear you talk out ideas with him, he doesn’t know how you write as amazingly as you do, but he’s happy to listen as you run ideas by him

With your permission, he avidly reads every draft, every page, every single word of what you’ve written, sometimes multiple times, because he loves your writing style and it’s like he can hear you and your voice through the words

He offers some feedback but honestly most of the time he’s just like “omg this is amazing 🥹”

Your biggest fan is obviously Edward Nashton, let’s be fucking honest

I’m so sorry but if you’re the kind of person who writes fiction or whatever about serial killers, like a book about a fictional serial killer, I’m just imagining him happily offering you details about murder/death etc so that your writing is completely accurate, to the point where anyone who reads your work is like “… ummm????”

When the Riddler killings start, the GCPD actually call you in for questioning because some of the details are eerily similar to what’s going on in the Riddler case (not that you tell them anything - you would never)

Eddie would be so proud of you when you publish a book, like he’s unable to stop himself from repeatedly telling you how amazing and talented and incredible you are, I wasn’t kidding when I said he was your biggest fan

The man is first in line to buy a copy of your book, even though you already have a copy of it and he’s also already read it because ofc you let him read all the drafts, he wants his own copy and to be able to proudly say his partner/significant other wrote this

He’d find a way to slip a recommendation of your book into his stream - obviously he doesn’t say on stream that his SO wrote it, Riddler can’t exactly announce “my girlfriend (Y/N) wrote this” because then it would be too easy to trace him, but he finds a way of recommending it to his followers

Your book sells out of all the Gotham bookstores the very next morning because Riddler’s followers are mass buying it

Honestly Eddie is just such a proud boyfriend/partner and shows it 24/7 🥹

#the batman #the riddler #edward nashton #paul dano #edward nashton x reader #the riddler x reader #asks #danonation #paul dano x reader #the riddler imagine

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triflesandparsnips · 2 years

Text

A brief follow-up re: this shit right here

Am I using another gif of the exact same scene just so I can watch it again from a slightly different artistic perspective? Yes, absolutely.

Since posting my feral feels regarding this scene in OFMD, I've seen rather a lot of reactions, and to be absolutely clear holy shit I love everyone in this bar & grill.

I would like to break down the reactions, though, and provide some additional commentary because it turns out I have EVEN MORE FEELINGS.

1. "My heart, my eyes, I'm screaming, I'm gnawing wood" and variations thereof

Amazing, no notes.

2. "Now that Stede knows he loves Ed, his Game will become Too Powerful"

I feel it's important to state that the beauty of this moment is only possible because

"On-Purpose Queer-Coded Language To Identify Each Other Safely"

and

"I'm Gonna Be Real Careful With My Wording Because I Like Pretty Things But I Don't Need Broken Ribs Today"

are often indistinguishable in the moment. To Ed? Stede has just done an elegant bit of coded communication. (THERE WAS A HANKY FOR FUCKS' SAKE.) It's part of why he goes in for a kiss-- and then promptly does a quick slide into a homosocially acceptable bro-punch when Stede doesn't immediately lean in too. Ed's still doing safety checks, and he'll continue doing them for several more episodes, but he's definitely added at least one tick mark -- possibly the first tick mark -- in his mental "does Stede do ~dalliances" tally sheet.

To Stede, though? He got to Be Himself and he did it Right so Hooray he didn't get his Face Caved In. While my dude needs to take some time to consider why it's so important to him that he Be Himself around This Particular Guy in This Particular Way, he is definitely not reading from the same set of notes as Ed. His mental tally sheet? Is still labeled "is this a Friend y/n." Because in Stede's past even trying to form friendships ended up with verbal abuse and weirdly sexualized violence so, like, Stede has a VERY different starting point than Ed on this one.

(And tbh, I think @kohlrabisabi's reply to the original post really hits a lot of this well. Stede is absolutely just… doing an extension of his own learned "safe" behavior and it HAPPENS to correspond with what Ed "knows" safe behavior like that "means." From a queer narrative point of view it doesn't particularly matter that Stede does in fact turn out to be in love with Ed-- he still betrayed the shared language that was supposed to finally make it safe for Ed to believe there was an Understanding between them, and therefore the fact that Stede didn't show up at the dock isn't just heartbreaking, it's an actively traumatic experience for Ed as a queer man.)

(The flip side of this is that it's not particularly fair of Ed to depend entirely on The Secret Code of Gay to interpret Stede's full thoughts on this extremely life altering situation, and perhaps spending five goddamn minutes just talking openly and making sure everyone's on the same page would've saved us all a lot of toes, okay.)

ALL THIS TO SAY: Lol no, if Stede tries to woo Ed now, it's going to be awkward straight-guy courtship outta manuals because that's what he thinks you're supposed to do, it'll be amazingly awful and I cannot fucking wait. We'll only see our slow and coded queer seduction vibes when Stede is, once again, trying not to get stabbed by Blackbeard.

3. "How does a television show do this, how is All This Meaning done by thirty people in a clown car driven by HBO"

The queer experience is nonetheless the human experience; we've been humans for a long time and our stories tend to repeat a lot. Also, all art is collaborative, and the audience is doing the bulk of the heavy lifting when engaging with any work of art -- therefore it's not thirty people in a clown car, it's millions of people collectively recognizing a shared/lived experience as accurate within our own contexts and imbuing it with yet further meaning because our ability to do so has neither directly nor indirectly been contradicted by the narrative.

tl;dr: Magic.

#in hanky code yes Stede is theoretically telling Ed he wants to get fistfucked super hard if Ed is also into that thanks #I realize that's a little unfair to leave in the tags #but oh no guess you'll have to write a fic about it to punish me #oh nooooo #not that #our flag means death #ofmd #meta #stede bonnet #edward teach #ed teach #queer narratives #moonlight scene #homophobia #and all the traumas that come from living in a homophobic world

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finelinevogue · 3 years

Text

sleep is for the strong

Description - you suffer from narcolepsy and Harry is always there for you

A/N - just like to say i don't suffer from narcolepsy, but i had a look at how different people are effected to write this. sorry if it offends anyone. i'd be happy to change bits if it isn't accurate!

warnings : narcolepsy, swearing

Ever since you were little all you wanted to do was sleep. Sleep is all you've ever known.

It wasn't because you were lazy or dysfunctional, it was because you had been blessed with narcolepsy. However, having narcolepsy was not the worst thing in the world.

Narcolepsy is beyond annoying, but it can be used to your advantage in unfortunate situations. For example if someone's speaking to you that you don't like, or you just can't be arsed to listen to, you can just pretend to fall asleep and then blame it on your medical condition. It is annoying though when you and your boyfriend, Harry, are trying to have a nice meal out somewhere and you can't help but fall asleep.

Your story with Harry was a funny one.

Your friend and you, not so long ago now, had bought tickets to a Harry Styles concert. You had made your friend buy the tickets because you were hopeless when it came to the internet. What you forgot to tell her was your price budget, which then ended up with you both having front row tickets - it was every fans’ dream.

The concert started off amazingly well, with Harry performing - in your opinion - some of the best songs towards the start of the show. This was beneficial to you, and you alone, because halfway through the show you started to become very very tired. It was when you had to rest your head on your friends shoulder and catch a few winks that Harry noticed you. To this day it is still the most humiliating thing that's happened to you - what with your face being put up on the big screen by a passing cameraman.

You remember Harry making a joke about how you were finding him boring and he was putting you to sleep, and you had to shout back saying that it was nothing personal. For some reason Harrys interaction with you made you feel more alive and you were able to get through the rest of the show. Harry kept close to the area that you were standing in, for the rest of the show, and you liked to believe that he even sang to you at one point.

Towards the end of the show, when your post concert depression was starting to kick in, you received a note from one of the concert ushers. What you never expected it to be was a note from the man who had been teasing you himself.

Hi! My name is Harry, call me so I can find out yours x

He had so smoothly written in the note. You were flattered that he had even took the time out of his day to write you such a note, so you obviously called him up with your name.

From then on, you two had been inseparable.

When you explained to Harry that you have narcolepsy he was not phased. You expected him to run away just like every other boyfriend you'd had, but he stayed. Harry always assured you that it's no big deal, but you couldn't help but feel sorry for him sometimes. When he comes home from a long day at work all he probably wants to do is be with you, but you are normally asleep and it makes you feel bad for putting him in this situation.

He has to put up with a lot from you. You're quite the trouble maker for someone who's never gone a day without having more than 12 hours sleep.

•••••

Harry was currently in the midst of his press tour for his new album, Fine Line.

It was your favourite album in the history of music, let alone his music. Harry had played the album to you one night on the way home from a boring business meeting, complaining how he needed to do something fun that night. So, the spontaneous pair you are, ended up driving around your town until 3am listening to the album on repeat. You couldn't pick a favourite track, but Fine Line itself has brought tears to your eyes.

Harry was doing interviews today at a pop up store in London. He was currently sat in a room with people shuffling around him, making him look pretty and preparing him for types of questions he might get asked. Sarah was currently sat on a sofa, behind where all the cameras were set up, with you. You hadn't really made an effort to look nice today, considering you were going to be sitting around all day and at some point you knew you were going to fall asleep. You'd gone with one of Harry's, oversized, grey hoodies and then some black joggers and vans.

You look like a Primark next to Gucci Harry.

Lou was dusting some foundation on Harry’s face as the first interviewers filed into the room, at which point Harry stood up to greet them by shaking their hands - such a gentleman. You yawned to yourself, feeling yourself about to drift off and so bunched yourself up tight in the corner of the sofa, knees close to your chest, and pulled the hood over your head.

Harry had seen you manoeuvre and, being the protective boyfriend he was, excused himself to make his way over to you for a moment. He crouched down in front of you and held onto your knees for balance.

"You okay gorgeous?" He asked. You hadn't fully gone to sleep yet and so were able to still hold conversation with him.

"Harry you're supposed to be doing an interview." You mumbled. He was always wary about you when you went to sleep. There has to be someone around you that monitors your heart rate to make sure it isn't too high, or too low, and Harry was that person. If your heart rate is abnormal then he had to call an ambulance, right away, to make sure you were okay otherwise you could end up in a coma. To make sure Harry knew you were okay all the time, he'd bought you a FitBit watch which monitors your heart rate and then synced up his FitBit with yours so he could monitor it too when he wasn't immediately next to you. You pointed to his wrist. "You know I'm okay."

"I know, I know. I just get nervous sometimes." You smiled at his concern and moved your tired arm up to cup his cheek, which he leaned into lovingly.

"It's okay to be nervous H, but I promise you I'm okay." He nodded in response, feeling more confident than before, as your hand stayed on his cheek. "And I'm only a sofa away from you. "

"Okay." Harry stood up and kissed you on your forehead before going back over to the sofa. You closed your eyes as you felt yourself drifting. He turned back to Sarah for a second though. "Just keep an eye on her, will you?"

"I'm fine H." You told him firmly, not wanting to get him in to trouble for staying with you . Your eyes were still closed. Sarah laughed next to you and you could hear Harry chuckle before heading over to the sofa for their interview. You heard the interviewer start before you fell asleep.

"Are we rolling?" The interviewer, Richard, asked his camera crew. They gave the man a thumbs up and then he began.

"Hi Harry! How are you doing today?" Richard asked.

"Good. Yeah all good. How are you? " Harry answered, looking over at you quickly - noticing you were asleep whilst taking a glance at the FitBit to check your vitals.

"I'm also good!" Richard laughed. "So I know you'll be getting asked this a lot but if you could describe your album in four words, what would they be?"

Harry counted each word on his fingers to make sure he would indeed say four words. "Umm... I'm not going to be too clever with my choice of words and go forr..." Harry drags out his last word before continuing. "Different. Mature. Retro. Passionate." Richard nodded his head in agreement.

"Why passionate? " Richard asked, wanting to hear some context to Harry’s choices.

"Because i’m really passionate about music, and the song writing process that comes with it, and I feel that that message comes across nicely when you listen to this album."

Harry took a quick opportunity to look down at the FitBit again.

You were still okay.

"What's your favourite song on the album?" Richard asked.

"That's tough." Harry drummed his fingers on his chin whilst looking to you for inspiration. "Personally my favourite is probably Sunflower Vol. 6. The song has a strong but simple meaning behind it and also it’s one that I think is going to be great to preform live. " Harry answered.

Little did the interviewer, or anyone except from Mitch, know that the song was inspired by you. Harry was in awe that nothing ever got in your way of life. No matter how awful something might be, you had this magical way of making the best out of a bad situation. It was one of Harry's favourite qualities about you. The fact you had narcolepsy didn't faze you, and Harry admired that. The song was written about you. A simple poem attached to a few chords. It was a love letter from Harry to you.

Harry does another check of his wrist, for you.

Richard has caught on to Harry checking his FitBit and so questioned him on it. "Are you alright Harry? You seem to be distracted by your watch."

Harry chuckled along with Richard, thankful he wasn't angry about it. "I'm sorry man. My girlfriend, over there, has narcolepsy and I'm just keeping a check on her heart rate." Harry pointed you out to interviewer and he just oh's in response, as if it all made sense now. Thankfully Richard wasn't annoyed that Harry was persistently diverting his attention off the interview, which Harry was very thankful for.

"I'm guessing she's the one sleeping?" Richard asked, understandably, since Sarah was sitting next to you, on her phone. Richard's question made Harry laugh, noticing the way you were slightly dribbling in your sleep.

"Yeah that would be correct." Harry still laughed, as he sat forward slightly, leaning to get a better angle of you. You looked so innocent, yet you were a right devil when you were awake. "Normally people are asking if she's the one who looks like she's high on sugar!" Harry joked.

Just because you had a medical condition that meant you wanted to sleep a lot of the time, didn't stop you from having fun. In fact it meant that you put the effort in to have more fun when you were awake. You know you pissed people off, because you always would have random bursts of energy when no one else did, but that was something they had to learn to deal with.

"Oh! Is she a trouble maker? She looks very peaceful right now though?" Richard joked. This interview had taken an unexpected turn which Harry nor Richard expected, but Richard knew the fans would love to see some content of Harry with his girlfriend and so kept it going. Richard was as nosey as the fans - wanting to see how his interviewees acted with their significant others as if the cameras weren't around.

"It's all an act." Sarah stated, which made Harry chuckle knowing exactly where Sarah was coming from. "She is actually the biggest diva."

"Facts." Harry responded, loving how he gets to talk about how special his girlfriend is so openly. Richard looked at them both in disbelief. "Honestly." Harry assured Richard. "She is the first on the dance floor, on a night out, and then the last also - she's hard work!" Harry smiled as he remembered the time you were about to fall asleep on the dance floor, and Harry came to move you to someplace quieter, but you threw a tantrum and petitioned to remain where you were. Harry couldn't say no to you, so he ended up giving you a piggy back, on the dance floor, for ten minutes whilst you slept.

He wouldn't have you any other way.

Harry looked down at his FitBit and noticed your heartbeat had sped up slightly. Either it was because you were about to wake up, or something was wrong. Richard and Jeff started talking about some finalities of the interview, so Harry zoned out for a moment, making sure you're okay. He was nervous for a minute but when he saw you shift in the sofa and stretch to rub your eyes, he calmed down and sat further back down into the sofa in comfort.

The interview continued for another few minutes before time was up. Richard thanked Harry and vice versa. You were now awake, but still a bit sleepy. Your subconscious has been aware of the voices in the room and so had distracted you from a good sleep.

You were scrolling through Instagram, to pass some time, when Harry appeared in front of you and Sarah.

"Stand up baby." Harry held his hands out for you.

"Told you I'd be okay." You said smugly and Harry rolled his eyes at you - letting you know that he knew you were right and that was something he'd never easily verbally admit.

You placed your phone on the flat arm of the sofa and allowed him to pull you up, giving you a quick kiss as he did. Harry sat down exactly where you'd been and pulled you down to sit on his lap. He had one arm wrapped securely around your waist as the other one was free to move when he talked. You laid your head back into his shoulder and continued to scroll through Instagram. Jeff stood up next to Sarah, after checking everyone was alright. You heard chatting and you were pretty sure everyone in the small room was conversing, but were too out of it to understand.

As you scrolled through your Instagram you liked a few pictures on the way down. A lot of your feed is your friends activity but you do also follow some Harry fan accounts, mainly because they're so sweet and also because the pictures of your man they post are beautiful. You came across a fan page which updated everyday with the best pictures of Harry and are always asking how their followers are. They're also a negative comment free zone, so there's never any hate and if there is it's removed.

You loved this page and this fan.

"Watcha looking at gorgeous?" Harry asked, before moving the hood away from your neck slightly so he could press a kiss there. He couldn't resist himself so had to leave a few, leaving a slight mark as he did so.

"Only the most stunning man I've ever seen." You said confidently, moving the phone to his face to show him a picture of himself. Harry laughed into your neck and squeezed your waist slightly in response.

"You're something else, you!" Harry joked, finding it flattering that you were looking at photos of him even if he hated looking at them himself. "Why though?"

"Why not? You look pretty darn good here H, and also this fan page is beautiful." You start explaining everything good about the account, and how they made you happy with their positivity and content. Harry just sat there and listened - in awe of the way you spoke so kindly about others. He pulled out his phone and logged on to his own Instagram. "What are you doing?"

He looked at the fans username and typed it in. He goes to the direct messages and composed a message to the fan that ran the account.

Hi! Harry here! Just messaging you to thank you for all your continuous support of me. You are amazing! Also Y/N was raving about your account to me and so i want to personally thank you for putting a smile on her face everyday! Keep it up! All the love. H x

You swore you could've cried at how generous and kind Harry was. That fan was going to have a heart attack, though. "Thank you." You said quietly before snuggling closely into him, attempting to give a hug.

"Anything for my angel." He kissed your forehead. It was true - he would do anything for you and you for him. You were the best team, even if you were a bloody handful at times.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #finelinevogue #finelinevogue harry styles #harry blurb #harry oneshot #harry styles concept #harry styles narcolepsy #narcoleptic reader x harry styles #harry styles fluff #harry styles interview #finelinevogue masterlist

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barbariansgvf · 2 years

Text

Long Time No See

pairing: joshxreader

a/n: Hi!! This is my first attempt at writing a fan fiction!! Please let me know if you enjoy it.

prompt: talking to an old crush, only to realize their crush doesn’t remember they’ve ever met.

disclaimer: I do not know Josh or any of the band members. None of what I wrote is accurate of who they are.

genre: angst??

“Aw man I missed this place!” Jake says with a sigh as he and the rest of the boys walk into a bar in their hometown.

The band finally had enough time off that they were able to visit their friends and family. This night the boys had chosen to visit an old bar they frequently visit when they are back home.

The boys quickly find a table and all sit down and begin talking about the old memories this bar has brought them. Out of the corner of Jake's eye he sees a familiar face sitting at the bar alone. He quickly nudges Josh and points towards the familiar face. Josh turns around to see what Jake is pointing at, and once his eyes catch y/n, all the old feelings that he thought were gone came flooding back.

Josh remembers seeing y/n for the first time walking down the hallway of their high school. y/n walked with so much confidence and beauty that once Josh's eyes caught sight he was unable to look away. He developed a huge crush on y/n that day, and anytime he would see y/n couldn’t help but stare and admire how effortlessly beautiful y/n was. Despite his massive crush he never was able to work up the courage to make a move and was always too shy to talk to y/n. It was only until y/n moved away for college Josh’s feelings went away.

Or at least that's what Josh thought.

But seeing you now Josh realizes that his feelings had never gone away but had only been postponed until the next time he saw you, which happened to be tonight.

Josh quickly turns his head back towards the table as a blush begins to rise up his neck and onto his cheeks. He stares straight out in front of himself with wide eyes until he hears Sam's voice.

“Oh my god, is that y/n?”

At that comment Josh quickly turns his head to look at his younger brother with wide eyes as the rest of the table quietly snickers at Josh's reaction.

“Be quiet Sam!” Josh says to Sam in a voice loud enough to cause him to wince and look back to make sure y/n hasn’t noticed him.

“You should go talk to her, maybe now you’d actually be able to ask her out.” Jake says while nudging twin.

Back in high school the theater department always did a play at the end of the year, this year in particular y/n was set on getting the lead in the play since it was y/n’s senior year and last chance to do so, and amazingly, after working hard preparing for the audition, y/n landed the lead. Josh that year had wanted to audition for the love interest of the lead character however after finding out that y/n had gotten the lead part he backed out and decided to audition as an extra. Josh was in the grade below y/n and knew he couldn’t play that part since it would mean he half to be so close to y/n

On the last night of the show, y/n had lost an earring for the costume of the lead character and was frantically running around backstage trying to find it. Josh witnessed y/n looking behind all the props and in all the rooms and decided now was his time to talk to her.

“Hey, are you okay?” Josh had asked timidly

“No! I lost an earring and can’t find it anywhere!” y/n responded out of breath.

“Here let me help you” Josh said as he glanced at the earring in y/n’s ear and began searching for the matching one.

After a few minutes of looking Josh found it on the table with the costumes for quick changes.

“Here, I found it!” Josh excitedly told y/n

“Thank you so much!!... I’m y/n by the way”

“Josh, I am an extra in scene three” Josh said as he began blushing wondering how he was able to say this much without stuttering.

Just as Josh was about to say something else, y/n was rushed onto the stage as the show began. Josh watched from the side stage in awe as y/n played the part perfectly. He hoped to be able to talk to y/n after the show and maybe even work up the courage to ask y/n on a date.

Later that evening once the show was finished Josh had tried to find y/n in the crowd of family and friends, but once he spotted y/n, y/n was already on walking out of the school. Josh had always regretted not running out the doors and asking y/n on a date, since after that show y/n graduated and moved away while Josh still had another left in highschool.

Josh glances back at y/n sitting alone at the bar and takes notice of the changes in y/n’s appearance . y/n’s hair is slightly longer and y/n no longer dresses in the same style like in high school. Despite the differences Josh still finds y/n beautiful.

“Second times a charm.”

Josh whispers to himself, as he looks back to his band and tells them that he is going to talk to y/n. They all let their mouths fall open as they watch him stand up and begin walking over. Despite all the confidence Josh has accumulated since he last saw y/n, in this moment Josh can feel nothing but nerves. And with one final breath to help calm his nerves, Josh taps y/n’s back. y/n begins to turn around and Josh can feel himself beginning to blush harder. And with a big smile Josh speaks.

“Hi y/n. Long time no see!”

“I’m sorry, do I know you?”

#josh kiszka #josh gvf #josh kiszka fanfiction #peaceful army #greta van fleet #gvf fanfiction #gvf #gvf fanfic #josh kiszka x reader

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harrywritingsbyme · 4 years

Text

The one where Y/n can't choose

Based Off Of This Ask

And This One Too

A/N: Just another hot lil blurb for you guys from some of the concepts I got this week. Enjoy 🙃

At this point, indecisive was your middle name. You always struggled with choosing what you wanted. When it was your turn to choose where or what you and Harry were having for dinner, it took at least an hour for you to come up with a definite answer.

When it came to Harry’s cock, you were the farthest from being indecisive. That is, when it came to wanting and needing him inside you. It was the where inside of you that was a struggle. It was always hard for you to choose between having him in your mouth, cunt, or your other, much tighter hole. To make matters worse, just about every situation you and Harry landed in, even the most innocent ones, turned over to the more sexual side. This meant that while you’re buzzing with need for Harry (and his cock), you had to make a decision right then and there on where you wanted him.

Most of the time, you’d choose for him filling your cunt up. You absolutely loved having your pussy filled with his cock, and you were completely hooked on the feeling of his cock nudging at the deepest part of you. But sometimes, you wanted him to fill up all three of your holes and make the already amazing and very deep feeling that came along with his cock being sheathed inside you that much better.

And right now was one of those times.

You and Harry were supposed to be getting ready for bed and spending some time together after a long day. But knowing you and Harry, it wasn’t possible for the two of you to do just that and that alone. You two always managed to find a way to get tangled up in each other, completely out of breath, sweaty, and in a complete daze from the mind-blowing releases you both just had.

While sharing a countless amount of kisses and giggles, you and Harry were rolling around on the bed battling for dominance in an attempt to pin each other down onto the bed. Typical couple stuff. And to be honest, it was a pretty cute moment. The two of you were simply enjoying each other as you two rolled around in bed, kissing, tickling and laughing with each other as you two tried to overpower the each other. The two of you continued like this until you managed to successfully overpower Harry (even though you later felt as though he let you win) and force him back onto the mattress with you straddling his waist.

“I like it when you’re on top.” Harry smirks up at you.

“Why? So that you can watch me fall apart, allowing you to take control? Because that’s what always happens.” You reply smartly, mirroring his smirk back down at him.

“Possibly.” Harry agrees, bringing his hands up to wrap around your thighs. “And because I like seeing my pretty little girlfriend take my cock so well.” As he continues, his hands slowly make their way up your thighs. When they reach the hem of the shirt you were wearing, he keeps going up until he reaches lower bands of your panties. When you feel his hands there, you’re quick to let out a gasp. You couldn’t deny the fact that you were getting seriously turned on at his words, and the very smug smirk that was painted across his face. “Tell me what you want baby.” Harry hums, pushing his fingers up underneath the elastic of your panties. For Harry, it took no time to figure out whether or not you were in need of attention.

“What makes you think that I want something?” You huff defiantly, trying to push the thoughts of Harry filling all three of your holes out of your head. You wanted to feel him in the pit of your stomach, but you also wanted to feel him everywhere else; even if it wasn’t necessarily his cock.

“Okay then.” Harry shrugs, pulling his fingers from your panties and bringing them to your waist before pulling you from on top of him and back onto the bed. He then gets up from the bed and makes his way to the bathroom, leaving you all alone in the bed with your filth ridden and very turned on thoughts. Just as he makes it to the threshold between the bedroom and the bathroom, you cave in.

“Fine!” You grumble, prompting Harry to stop in his tracks and turn back around to face you. Even though your eyes spoke volumes, Harry just wanted you to say what you wanted.

“Tell me what you want baby.” Harry repeats once more, making his way back to the bed where you were lying.

“Want you t’fill me up.” You simply reply, keeping your eyes on him as he gets closer to you. Instead of immediately replying to you, he waits until he reaches the foot of the bed. Once he’s standing in front of you, he reaches down to grasp onto your legs, pulling you down towards him.

“Want me stuff this pretty little pussy with my cock?” Harry coos, bringing a hand up from one of your legs and to the area between them. He extends one of hid fingers to your panties, and begins fingering your entrance through the fabric.

“And the other ones.” You sigh, dropping your head back down to take in the feeling of his finger moving against you. When he hears these words come out of your mouth, Harry’s cock begins to stir in his pants. You’d only asked him to do this once before and it was probably one of the most amazing things he’d ever seen.

“Want all three of these holes filled?” Harry asks lowly, locking his eyes on your spread legs and bringing his finger a bit lower towards your other hole.

“Mhm, so bad.” You hum blissfully. He then, without warning, moves his hands up to your hips were your panties were securely hugging your body and swiftly pulls them down your legs. Once they’re off and out of his way, Harry kneels on the floor at the end of the bed, pulls you down a little off the edge, and wastes no time bringing his mouth to you. You feel his tongue amazingly and languidly lapping up and down your folds. As he continues, you feel one of his fingers push past your entrance and right into you.”oh my-“ You gasp at the suddenness. Even though it felt good, and Harry knew it, it didn’t last long. Once his finger is nice and wet, Harry pulls it from you and drags it down to your second hole. When you feel his fingertip circling around the tight ring of muscles. During all of this, he still manages to keep his mouth on you. And just as he pushes his finger in, he sucks harshly on your clit, intensifying the already intense feeling of him pushing into your tightened hole. If simply having one of his fingers inside felt amazing, you were very confident that you’d feel ten times better once you have something much bigger inside. When he feels begin to squirm against his mouth and hand, he pulls out of you and detaches his mouth from your folds. “Why’d you stop?!” You whine as he stands back up from between your legs.

“Because m’gonna give you something much better.” Harry explains simply with a smirk plastered across his face as he walks backwards towards the closet.

“Well hurry up. I’m open and ready for you!” You rush.

“Well take that shirt of yours off, and get in the middle of the bed so you can really be open and ready.” He instructs before entering the closet.

While you’re following his direction and waiting for him to return.

When Harry reaches the closet, he makes a b-line to the back to which he reaches up to the top shelf that housed the box of toys you two frequented. When he pulls the pretty weighty box down from the shelf, he quickly plucks off the lid and goes straight to the sizable silicone dildo resting on top of the other toys you two owned. At first, Harry bought this so that you could practice taking all of his size. It was pretty close to his cock in terms of length and and girth and it did the trick in terms of not only getting your cunt adjusted, but also your other and much tighter hole adjusted to his cock. As he continues to stand there with the box full of toys, staring at the main one, Harry’s free hand unwittingly migrates down to his boxers where he grasps his clothed bulge in the palm of his hand. His mind flashed back to a time when you were on top of him riding him. Your mouth stuffed with his fingers, your cute little puckered ring of muscles with his cock, and your pretty little pussy was stuffed with this this toy that was pretty accurate in comparison to his cock. He was standing there for so long that he didn’t even realize until he was broken out of his thoughts from you shouting to him from the bedroom.

“Are we gonna do this or what? If not, there’s a perfectly fine shower head and I have my fingers.” You threaten from the bedroom. You may or may not have played with yourself a little while you waited for Harry to come back.

Harry quickly removes his hand from his cock and picks the toy from the box. He slides it back up onto the shelf and puts the lid back before leaving back out into the bedroom.

“Can’t believe how impatient you are.” Harry chuckles as he shakes his head at you.

“Well maybe I’m just in desperate need of your magical cock. Both of them.” You sigh dreamily, nodding your head towards the dildo in his hands.

“Well your wait stops now.” Harry hums, climbing up onto the bed and between your legs. “Now open up.” Harry instructs, leaning down to give your cheek a couple taps. Once your lips are parted, Harry lifts the toy and slowly pushes it into your mouth. “That’s it babygirl.” He praises as you take the the entire dildo into your mouth and down your throat. Just as the base of the toy touches your lips, you gag a little bit, causing a chuckle to fall from Harry’s mouth. “That’s right, get it nice and wet f’me.” He hums. He then lightly nudges it against the back of your throat before pulling it out. “Good job.” Harry smugly smirks, admiring the now sopping wet dildo. “Now turn over, gotta start fillin’ you up.”

Once you’re on your front, Harry separates the flesh of your ass and lines the toy up with your entrance. After a few reassurances from Harry to relax, you begin to feel a little pressure and ultimately the toy entering you.

“Oh my god.” You groan delightedly at the feeling. After getting used to the stretch, you were immediately addicted to being filled up this way. Once the dildo is fully inserted and you can feel it all the way inside, Harry pulls you back to your initial position.

“Feel good?” Harry asks while tugging at his cock a little.

“Really good.” You hum happily, looking down to watch his hand move around his cock.

“I think it’s time we spring for the vibrating one, give us both a little challenge. Harry proposes, coming in closer to you and lining himself up with your main entrance.

“To give us both a challenge? I’m the one who’ll have to endure vibrations in my ass.” You continue amusedly.

“Well I’m the one who’ll have to feel the vibrations in your ass against my cock while I fuck you.” Harry rations as he pushed into you.

“Oh my god; that’s two out of three.” You you pant, feeling his cock completely fill your lower half.

“Well it’ll be three for three if you stop running your mouth.” Harry says smartly. Instead of replying to him again, you simply open your mouth for his fingers. When you do this, an even wider smirk rises to Harry’s face and he raises a hand to push your fingers into your mouth. “Three for three.” Harry whispers, sending you a quick wink in the process.

Instead of wasting anymore time, Harry dives right in with pounding into you. He continuously slams his cock into your cunt, making sure to push his hips right into yours with every thrust. By pressing right against you like this every time, he’s pushing the dildo back into you. Even though you were benefiting the most from having all three of your holes filled at once, Harry wasn’t necessarily getting the shorter end of the stick. For starters, he got to fuck into you while your ass was filled to the brim with a dildo. This meant that as he slammed into you, he got the feel the toy against his cock through your walls. Then on top of that, Harry got to listen to your muffled cries and moans as you drooled and gagged on his fingers. If he could take a picture of this moment and the moments to come, he wouldn’t pass up on it.

“That’s it sweet girl. Look so pretty with two cocks inside you and all your cute little holes filled.” Harry admires through his moans, continuing to piston his hips into yours. “Wanna cum baby?” He pants, feeling his release begin to rapidly bubble up inside him. All you could do in response was look up at him through your watery eyes and tightly nod your head yes. “Where d’you want my cum sweetheart?” Harry pants, continuing to push his cock into you. “Want it in that pretty little mouth?” He begins, stopping his continuous thrusts and switching over to sharper and deeper thrusts. “Want it in that cute little ass of yours?” He continues, synchronizing his question with another hard thrust. “Or do you want in that pretty little tummy?” Before he can even finish you’re already whimpering and nodding your head yes. “Now cum with me sweet girl.” Harry hums, pushing his fingers a little bit deeper and sending one final thrust that pushes you both right over the edge. The both of you completely unravel around each other and let go of your much needed and welcomed releases.

Once you both are completely done riding the waves of your massive releases, Harry removes his fingers from your mouth, and his cock from your quivering pussy, leaving the toy in your other hole before falling back onto the bed next to you.

“That was amazing.” Harry pants, completely dumbfounded.

“Can we start looking for the vibrating one?” You whisper to him. “Let’s make it even better.”

Maybe being indecisive wasn’t so bad after all.

Masterlist

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