#i feel like i just got out of the confession booth with that last part but once i started typing i simply could not stop sdfhgfmgjfdhgfhmgj

[covenofagatha]

If you're still taking requests I'd love to suggest Agatha x fem reader smut with mutual maturation and Agatha guiding inexperienced reader through dry humping after finding out

It took me awhile to figure out what I wanted to do for this story, but a lightbulb clicked today and it was all I could think about so I really hope everyone likes it!

Forgive me, Father

After feeling something that you shouldn't have, you go to confession and Father Agatha helps you repent

Word count: 1700+

Warnings: confessional booth sex, father kink (?), religious imagery, masturbation, thigh riding, slight dubcon, reader is completely innocent and inexperienced and thinks any kind of sex is a sin, corrupt priest agatha, so sacrilegious lol

You slide into the confessional booth, stomach twisting and palms sweating. 

You were practically a regular there, always looking to assuage your guilt about the bad things you did: accidentally saying the Lord’s name in vain, getting too angry when your brother turned off the television and snapping at him, harboring a grudge against a stranger who cut you off while driving. 

You strived more than anything to be a good girl, and when you did something bad, it ate you alive. 

Except this time, it wasn’t just a small sin. 

No, it was much worse than anything you had confessed about earlier. 

The door to the conjoining part of the booth opens and you hear someone sit down. 

“What is the matter, my child?” The priest says, and you’re surprised to hear a woman’s voice. You didn’t know women could become priests, nor that your parish had one. 

You do the sign of the cross and say, “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been a week since my last confession.”

“What do you have to confess?” 

You take a deep breath, wiping your hands on your legs to try and dry them off. “Last night, I was at a friend’s house reading Scripture and her older sister was watching a movie in the other room. When I went to the bathroom, I saw a glimpse of it.” 

You stop talking, afraid of the next part. The priest makes a sound to urge you on. 

“I don’t know what movie it was, but there were two women kissing,” you tell her, shuddering. “Which I know is a sin, but then I felt something inside me.” 

“What did you feel, child?” She asks. You can hear her breathing closer to the partition like she’s leaning towards you. 

Tears prick your eyes. “I felt, um, like this heat in my stomach? And almost like I was empty? When I went to the bathroom, there was a wetness in my underwear.” 

The priest thinks for a second and then tuts. “Did it feel good?”

“Yes,” you gasp out, shame bubbling up. “But it was wrong, and I know that. I’m sorry, Father! What is my penance?” 

“There is something that can be done when you feel like that, you know,” she says slyly, her voice getting low and thick with something, and your heart stutters. 

Surely she can’t be talking about–

“Have you ever touched yourself?” She asks. 

“No, of course not!” You exclaim indignantly. “Masturbation is a sin. You can only be touched down there by your husband.” It’s the same words you’ve heard your entire life. 

“I bet you didn’t know that those rules don’t apply to priests,” she says and your brows furrow in confusion. “Since we are not allowed to marry.” 

You swallow. “Really?” Curiosity is getting the better of you and you’re starting to feel warm. You can almost hear her nodding her head. 

“Really. And as a priest, I’m giving you permission to try. It will make you feel good and relieve the tension you feel.” 

Your heart skips a beat and you can feel flickers of heat in your stomach. But you shake your head in frustration. “I don’t know how to,” you admit. 

“Why don’t you come over here and I’ll help you?” She says, sounding like a cat who just got the cream. Feeling better, you step out of your side and into hers. 

It’s a tight fit, and through the dimly lit space, you get your first look at the priest you’ve been talking to and your mouth parts. 

Her dark, curly hair frames her face and falls down past her breasts. Her striking blue eyes, although you can see barely any of the cerulean color with how large her pupils are, seem to pierce through your soul. They rake up and down your body, taking in your jean shorts and Youth Group t-shirt from years ago.

You can feel your pulse somewhere between your legs and it’s like the feeling from last night, only amplified. 

“Please, Father,” you beg, although not sure what you’re asking for. She smirks and motions for you to take a step closer. 

“Why don’t you get on your knees, angel? Like you do when you pray.”

You obey and wince at the cold tile. It’s a little uncomfortable, but you lay your palms face up on your thighs and look at her. 

She bites her lip at the sight, something flashing in her eyes. “Very good. Now, unbutton your jeans and slide a hand inside.” 

Something stops you, a feeling nagging inside your brain. You’re still not convinced that this isn’t a sin, and she sees your hesitation. 

“If it makes you feel better, I’ll show you what to do,” she says, and she begins pulling up her robes. Your fingers twitch against your thighs and the feeling inside you grows. Once they’re around her waist, she moves her underwear to the side to reveal her private parts to you. 

“Is it supposed to be that wet?” You question, absolutely enraptured by what she looks like. You’ve never even really examined your own that closely, but she has two flaps of skin that look like they’re practically matted together with wetness and she’s glistening. Jesus Christ himself could come down to earth right now and you wouldn’t even care. 

She nods and runs a hand through, parting her folds and letting you see more of her. 

“Yes, if you’re this wet, that means your pussy is ready,” she says and you blush at the vulgar word. “And this up here-” She cuts off to circle her finger on something at the top of her pussy. “-is your clit. This is what you want to focus on.” 

She rubs herself more and her head slightly drops back with a moan. It’s like your body is being consumed with hellfire. 

This priest is both the apple and the snake in the Garden of Eden, and you are the poor mortal fool about to give into temptation and sin. 

“That feeling inside you?” She whispers, and your eyes lock on hers, waiting for the answer to salvation. “This is how you get rid of it.” 

She slides a finger into herself and groans louder and you can’t resist unbuttoning your shorts and cupping yourself through your underwear. 

“Father…” You rasp, hesitating because you realize you don’t know her name. 

“Agatha,” she says, moving in and out. “Play with your clit, angel. Rub it.” 

You struggle to find it, but when you do, your entire body jerks with pleasure. She chuckles above you and you’re reminded of the stained glass windows in the parish of disciples kneeling at the altar before Jesus.

Is that what the two of you look like right now?

Like you’re revering Father Agatha?

That’s what it feels like. 

You can feel how wet you’ve gotten through your underwear and you squirm at the stickiness. You keep stroking that special spot, watching the priest do the same, but it feels like you just need more. The blaze inside you is only growing more and you feel like you need relief or you’ll die.

“Father Agatha,” you whine and you don’t miss how her hips buck. “I can’t do it by myself, I need help. It’s only getting worse.” 

She pouts. “Of course it is, angel. That means it’s working. Although, if you really want to feel good, why don’t you let me guide you?” 

You stiffen involuntarily, even though your body is screaming to let her. “If you touch me there, I’ll be impure.” 

She thinks hard for a minute, tapping her finger to her lip and then her face lights up. “I won’t touch you there, then.” 

You frown and she beckons you up. She parts her legs and pats one of them. You stare at her, completely confused as to what she wants you to do.

“Take off your shorts and sit on my thigh with your underwear. We won’t be touching and it won’t be a sin.”

You can’t find any holes in that logic, so you obey and you let out a gasp when you drop your pussy right onto her leg. You moan. Having a strong muscle to move against makes the pleasure so much more intense and you rut against it frantically. 

“There you go, angel. Make yourself feel good,” she encourages, putting her hands on your hips to guide you down harder. Each drag of your clit against her skin, even through your wet fabric, pulls a sound out of your mouth. 

“Father, please, so good, more,” you pant. 

You shall not make false idols. You have definitely broken that commandment as you have fully given yourself over to worshipping this woman. 

“Oh, my God, please.”

You shall not take the Lord’s name in vain. There’s another one. 

“Father Agatha, something’s happening to me!” Heat and tension are rising and twisting and building and making you so tense that you think you’re about to snap. 

She smirks and digs her fingernails into your hips to move you faster. “Let go, angel. That’s the best part.” 

You remember hearing the story of Noah’s ark in nursery school. How God warned him of a flood and to gather two of every animal before he overflowed the earth. 

You feel that flood now in your body, except it’s pleasure rushing through your veins, like a dam has broken. 

Your head slumps onto her shoulder. “What was that?” 

“That was an orgasm,” she says, sounding very proud of herself. “Reproduction isn’t the only reason people have sex.” 

Your face turns red. “But – no, we didn’t – that wasn’t sex, I couldn’t have had one of those, I’m not married!” 

Your protests only make her grin more and she brushes a piece of hair from your sweaty face. “Oh, you’re so innocent, angel. I’m a priest, remember? The rules are different for us. And if you’re still feeling guilty, do eight Hail Mary’s.” 

You nod, mind reeling from that. You will certainly have to pray later. But there’s something else you can’t stop thinking about. “But what if that feeling comes back?”

She smirks and there’s a glint in your eye that both makes you want more and terrifies you. “Then you come back for more confessions until we can get rid of all those dirty thoughts.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If we like, I have an idea for a part 2 that lines up with another request

[cxrrodedcoffin]

Don’t Call Me Kid - Aaron Hotchner

“don’t call me kid, don’t call me baby, look at this godforsaken mess that you made me.”

——

Likes are always appreciated but reblogs and feedback keep artists going!

Summary: Reader confesses their feelings for Hotch, they have an angsty yet adult conversation about it.

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: I was originally not going to give this a happy ending but I got too sad writing it and changed my mind, also yes i’ve been writing a lot don’t criticize me lol

TW: alcohol mention, angst, age gap, slight physical touch (all respectful, nothing sexual), slight implied daddy issues, fem reader

Rating: G

——

Aaron Hotchner was not a man one could approach without a level head. He was rational, always thinking of the most reasonable course of action, weighing every outcome before making any decision. He had to be, as hasty decision-making had cost him more than he cared to discuss.

You knew that, you’d worked under him for two years now and although he didn’t discuss his private life all that frequently at work, these weekly team meetups at the local bar taught you more than enough about him as a person. The usual stoic head of the team was kind, funny, encouraging, albeit a bit quiet until he knew you a bit better.

About a year into your time with the team you let slip that you’d never explored the city, and Rossi wasted no time letting Aaron know about it. A week later he was driving you around, explaining the history behind the popular monuments you had requested a visit to, then spending an hour at the Folger Shakespeare Library to admire the historic architecture and impressive selection of literature, and ending the day at the Moongate Garden, watching the sunset on a bench surrounded by cherry blossoms.

From that day you knew if there was anything you needed, all you had to do was ask. He’d shown you your favorite restaurant, the coffee shop you sat in every free morning you had, reading books he’d suggested you read. You didn’t want to admit it, but you had fallen hard for him, and over the last year those feelings became harder and harder to push down.

It was 2 a.m. and the bartender had announced last call, earning a disappointed groan from Penelope.

“We were just getting started!” She whined, her speech slightly slurred.

“You’ve had more than enough for tonight Babygirl, let’s get you home.” Derek caught her waist, steadying her as she rose from the booth the team had been sitting in.

“I better get going too, Will has to work early so I have to take Henry to school in the morning.” JJ added, playfully rolling her eyes.

The rest of the group finished up their drinks, wrapping up the current conversation before shuffling out of the bar. You said your goodbyes, giving parting hugs before pulling out your phone, ready to order yourself a rideshare home. Your cell service was almost non-existent and the app was taking forever to load, the chill in the air causing goosebumps to form on your bare legs. You raised your phone in the air, trying to gain a better signal as you walked back and forth in front of the bar, growing increasingly frustrated.

Aaron exited the bar as you made another pass by the entrance, tripping as your ankle wobbled in your heels. He was quick to catch you, helping you find your footing once more.

“Do you have a ride home?” He asked, offering you his suit jacket for warmth.

“I’m trying to order a taxi but the app won’t load.” Your frustration was evident, each tap of your finger against the glass of your smartphone just a little too firm.

“You don’t live far, correct? I can walk you home.” He offered, his hand still lingering on the small of your back to steady you. You weren’t drunk, not by a long shot, but you didn’t handle your liquor the best and although you were mostly there mentally, your center of gravity had been better.

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to go out of your way for me.” You countered, always raised to decline at least once when offered anything to remain polite.

“I want to make sure you get home safe, it’s really no trouble.” You knew he was earnest, always such a father figure to every member of the team. You put your phone in your bag, throwing it over your shoulder before turning to walk down the street that led to your apartment building.

You walked in silence for a while, his hand hovering behind you just in case your clumsiness kicked in along your walk. His suit jacket was surprisingly warm, the stiff fabric shielding your bare arms from the cold. You weren’t sure why you’d chosen to wear a short sleeved blouse when it was nearing the end of fall, but you suspected it subconsciously had something to do with how well the v-neck showed off your cleavage. You felt a bit pathetic sometimes, finding any way you could to attempt to pull his attention. It never worked, Aaron respected you too much to stare at your figure no matter how provocatively you dressed.

After a few blocks your heel caught on a storm grate, making you stumble forward. His reflexes were impressive as ever, his arm reaching out to catch your waist.

“I swear I’m not usually this clumsy.” You joked, straightening your skirt as you started again on your journey home. He didn’t say anything, but the slight smile his lips formed told you he found your try at humor in an awkward moment amusing.

“It’s just around this corner, I’ll be fine from here.” You tried to wave him off, dying to disappear into your apartment to prevent further embarrassing yourself.

“I’m walking you up to your apartment, I need to see you home safe.” He stated, turning the corner with you. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach, his domineering yet caring tone making your heart race. This was all becoming too much, the protectiveness, the slight touches, you could feel something burning in your chest, the urge to spill your guts growing stronger by the minute.

He waited for you to punch in the code to the front door of your apartment building before holding it open for you, following you to the elevator up to your floor. You took the quiet ride up, him continuing to follow you down the hallway to your apartment when the doors opened. You opened your bag, fiddling around for your keys for a moment before finding them, your hand shaking as you tried to unlock the door. You finally got it, pushing open the front door and stepping into your messy living room.

“How are you getting home?” You asked, setting your bag on the small table next to the door.

“I’ll order a taxi, I’m just glad you’re home safe.” He began to pull out his phone, and the liquid courage coursing through your veins told you to invite him in.

“Do you want to come in while you wait?” You offered, handing his suit coat back to him. He stepped inside, shutting the door behind him and making sure to lock it, never too cautious.

He laid his suit coat over the back of your coach, taking a seat before taking out his phone again to order his ride.

“It won’t be ready for another 30 minutes, I hope I’m not overstaying my welcome.” He was far too courteous, and all you wanted to do was tell him how badly you wanted him to stay forever.

“You could never.” You told him, kicking off your heels before sitting next to him on the couch. You took a deep breath, trying to settle yourself as you picked up the book that was resting on your coffee table. You watched over the top of the pages to see him glancing around the room, scanning the contents until he stopped on the media console across the room. He stood from his place next to you and walked over to it, taking a knee to get down to the same level as your record collection.

“You have impressive taste.” He stated matter-of-factly, his long fingers brushing across the spines of each album. You gave a quiet ‘thank you’ as he began to pull a record out, and you placed your book down again to see what had caught his eye.

“I didn’t know you listened to The Beatles.” He held up the jacket of the band’s white album, looking to you in slight disbelief.

“Of course, The White Album is one of the greatest of all time.” You were excited to talk music with him, it was a topic you’d never discussed before and you were always eager to learn more about him. That may have been to your own detriment, because the more you learned about him, the harder you seemed to fall.

You knew a relationship between the two of you could never happen, he was your superior, not to mention twenty years your senior, but something felt like it was pulling you to him no matter how many guys you tried to distract yourself with.

“You never fail to surprise me.” He smiled, the outer corners of his eyes crinkling just so. You could’ve died right there, content to collapse into a puddle of yearning. You didn’t know what came over you, but you found yourself clearing your throat as a rush of adrenaline coursed through you.

“Aaron, I have to tell you something.” Your voice shook, but you remained strong in your conviction.

His faint smile turned to a look of concern, quickly rising from his knee to join you on the couch again.

“What is it?” He questioned, brow furrowed as he angled his body toward you.

“I-It’s, nevermind.” That burst of adrenaline quickly faded, his eyes on you feeling like a cigarette burn.

“Y/N, whatever it is, you can trust me. I understand if you’re not comfortable telling me, but don’t let fear hold you back on my account.” He reassured you, resting his hand on your knee sympathetically. You had to do it, there was no way you could face him every day if you brushed him off without an explanation.

“I’m in love with you.” You blurted out, hanging your head, too afraid of what his reaction would be to dare look him in the eye. The silence that sat between you two felt like it carried on forever, tension thick enough to cut with a knife. After what felt like an eternity he cleared his throat, still holding his hand on your knee.

“Why do you feel that way?” He asked, trying to understand where this was coming from. He couldn’t deny that he had felt chemistry between you, but it wasn’t something he could ever entertain acting on.

“Over the last year I’ve gotten to know you in ways I never dreamed I would, I’ve never felt this way for anyone before, even those I once thought I loved in the past. You’ve been so kind, Aaron, you’re an incredible friend, father, leader, how could I be anything but amazed by you?” You felt as though you were rambling, but he seemed so invested in your answer that you didn’t care if what you said was rational.

“I understand.” He confirmed, turning silent as the gears turned in his mind. You could tell he was fighting something internally, the look of concentration on his face seeming almost painful.

You pulled your knee out from under his hand, your nerves convinced that he was looking for a way to fire you without creating an HR nightmare. As quickly as you pulled away he had moved closer to you, his hand finding its place on your knee once more.

“Look at me.” He said, thumb rubbing soothing circles against your skin. You did as you were told, tears threatening your waterline as you did your best to hold his gaze.

“I’m not going to lie to you, you are a very charming young woman and I’d be honored to pursue something more intimate with you, but we can’t. I’m your superior, and you’re young enough to be my daughter.” He explained, the pain in his expression serving to break your heart in two.

“I don’t care.” You were not thinking rationally in that moment, your heart speaking for you instead of your head.

“You should, this is your future.” His tone held frustration this time, finding your childish response disappointing.

“I am not a child Aaron, I can make my own decisions.” You told him, a tear slipping down your cheek as you grew increasingly frustrated with his stonewalling.

“I know that, but you’re young, you have so much to experience and you shouldn’t put that on hold for me, or anyone else for that matter.” Even through his anger he was just trying to steer you in the responsible direction, thinking more about your future than whatever desires he held.

“I have all I’ve ever wanted, my dream has always been to work for the FBI. I don’t have any delusions of grandeur, I never have. I want a job where I’m doing good and a family to come home to when all is said and done.” You explained, and it wasn’t a lie. It’s not that you weren’t driven, you clearly had to be to even make it to the bureau, but that was as far as you wanted your drive to take you.

“For this to work, I can not be your boss, and I won’t ask you to step down.” He continued evaluating each possible risk in your dynamic, and for once you were one step ahead of him.

“You don’t have to, I put in for a transfer to the financial crime unit last week.” You finally let the other secret you’d been keeping slip, and you watched his face drop in disappointment.

“The team is going to miss you more than you know.” He told you, wishing he had known so he could have convinced you otherwise.

“I know, but I couldn’t bare the thought of being around you every day while I feel like this, and I was fascinated by the way their team handled the case we partnered with them on last month. The timing felt right.” You explained, needing him to know that it was not his fault, but a conscious decision you made.

“I just want to try.” You pleaded one last time, hoping he’d let his walls down just this once.

“If this is really what you want, I’ll take you out next weekend. If we’re going to do this, I’m going to do it the right way, you deserve that much.” He gave in, letting himself do something personally risky for the first time in years.

“I would love that.” You agreed, all of the anger and frustration that had been building up over the last year finally starting to dissipate ever so slightly.

How it would pay off, only time would tell, but for now, you were content to just get to know him more and show him who you are the best you can.

——

Part 2 can be found here

Tag List: @pleasantwitchgarden @lover-of-books-and-tea

DM me or send me an ask if you’d like to be added to my general or Aaron Hotchner taglist :)

[delicatebarness]

cry baby | chapter eight

Summary: Confessions.

Warning: Mentions of John Walker. Mentions of Cheating.

Word Count: 1848

Spotify Playlist | Tips

Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

A/N: I can't wait for the John Walker parts to be over. Please feel free to leave feedback or let me know where and how you want the story to continue, this is just as much yours as it is mine. - B

Tags: @buckys0whore | @thezombieprostitute | @lanabuckybarnes | @mishkatelwarriorgoddess | @softieekayy | @noonespecial90 | @hello-therree | @randomawesomeperson102 | @whoreforbarnes | @thejutvtsupport | @somnorvos | @thetorturedbuckydepartment

Two weeks had passed since John’s disappearance, and the news reports were all the same, no new leads or theories, it became tedious. Yet, there was a cloud of suspicion lingering over you and The Avengers, simply because the others were known as the ‘tough’ guys in the city, they were associated with trouble whether deservedly or not. 

As you settled into your usual seat in the bar, the dim lighting cast shadows that danced across the wooden table, and a warm sense of familiarity washed over you. Your friend's laughter filled the air as you caught up with each other and your lives. 

However, the moment of tranquility was shattered as the door swung open, and in strode a woman, a mask of rage and desperation over her features. You noticed her as she scanned the room, her eyes locked on your booth, a shiver sent down your spine as you retreated your gaze over to Bucky. 

“Where is he?” she demanded, her voice sharp as she pointed an accusatory finger toward the group, mainly aimed at Steve. “I know you lot had something to do with it.” A tense silence fell over the bar, you exchanged wary glances with your friends. You knew who she was, her face had been plastered all over the news the last two weeks. 

Steve was the first of you to respond, with a calm but firm voice. “I’m sorry, Miss, but I think you have the wrong people,” he said.

Her eyes narrowed, her fists were clenched at her sides. “Don’t play dumb with me,” she spat, her voice began to tremble. “You’ve always been into trouble, you can’t expect me to believe any of you are innocent.” 

Natasha rose from her place in the booth, her demeanor was composed but unwavering. “We understand that you’re worried, but we genuinely have no idea what you’re talking about,” her voice was steady.

Sam nodded in agreement, “We may have a reputation, but this wasn’t us.” he tried to explain without letting his frustration get the better of him.

You couldn’t shake the unease that ate at you. You knew the truth - John had cheated on this woman with you. Even though you knew you hadn’t slept with him, the guilt of even going on dates with him and kissing him, bubbled up inside you. Your gaze flickered nervously to the floor as you tried to keep your composure. 

Her gaze flickered between each one of you, rage and frustration taking over her features. “I won’t rest until I find out what happened to him,” she vowed, determination thickened in her voice as her gaze landed on you. Staying there for a moment longer than they all liked. 

Bucky stood, his presence snapping her out of the haze that set her focus on you. “We understand you’re in pain, but coming here to accuse us… won’t bring him back,” he said, his voice calm. 

With a final glare, toward you, she turned on her heel and stormed out, leaving a tense silence behind her. The bar remained quiet for a moment before the chatter resumed. As you and your friends got comfortable in your booth again, the weight of the accusation and your own guilt pressed down heavily on your mind.

~

The accusation from John’s wife cast a shadow over your gathering, causing the rest of the evening at the bar to become a stark contrast to the usual atmosphere. Although everyone tried to return to their conversation and laughter, the tension was undeniable. 

Ever perceptive, Bucky, noticed the worry that clouded your features. He stayed quiet as the night wore on, it wasn’t until the other became engrossed in a conversation that he leaned in closer to you. “Hey,” he said softly, searching your gaze. “You okay?”

You nodded, forcing a smile. “Yeah, just a lot on my mind,” you replied, trying to sound upbeat and casual. He wasn’t convinced, he knew you too well. He noticed the slight tremble of your voice and the glossy coat over your eyes. 

“You sure?” he pressed, “You seem more shaken than usual.”

Sighing, you remembered you couldn’t hide your feelings from him. “It’s just… the whole John situation,” you admitted, your voice barely a whisper. “I can’t shake the guilt, Bucky. What if someone found out about us?” 

His expression softened as his hand reached under the table, resting his hand against your thigh, his thumb brushing against your bare skin. “Hey, listen to me,” he said firmly. “You didn’t do anything wrong. He was the one who was married, not you. And, you had no idea about his wife, right?” 

You shook your head, confirming his suspicion. “It’s just hard not to feel responsible,” you murmured, glancing around to make sure your other friends weren’t listening. 

As Bucky began to respond, Steve interrupted. “Alright, I think it’s time to call it a night,” he announced, standing from his chair at the head of the booth, stretching out his back. Everyone murmured in agreement, and soon you dispersed. Each other your friends heading their separate ways. Expect Bucky, as always, he lingered behind, waiting for you as you gathered your things. 

“Want a ride home?” the concern was evident in his voice.

You nodded without hesitation, you loved the feeling of the cool night air against your skin, it helped clear your mind. 

~

As you reached your apartment, you turned to Bucky. He smiled warmly before pulling you into a comforting hug. “You know I’m always here for you,” he whispered, placing a gentle kiss on the top of your head. 

With a final squeeze, he let you go as he watched you enter your apartment. He waited until he heard the click of the door lock before making his way out of the building. 

Once inside, you leaned against the door. Everything from the evening replayed in your mind. You knew you had to try and find a way to move past this, but that was easier said than done. 

~

The next few days at work are blurred from the routine tasks and your colleague's hushed whispers. You tried to remain focused on your job, yet the memory of John’s wife’s confrontation lingered. The office gossip showed no signs of dying down and the sense of dread consumed you every time you heard his name. 

One afternoon, as you were packing up for an early finish, your phone buzzed.

Bucky ❤️‍🩹: Bar? Could use some company… 

You smiled at his timing, grateful for the attached photo showing both his beer bottle and a cherry cold waiting in front of your usual seat. You send a quick reply, packing up the last of your things and heading to the bar.

~

The bar was a lot less crowded than it usually is when you arrive. You stopped Bucky already waiting at your booth with the pictured bottle still waiting in front of him. He greeted you with a smile as you slid into the seat opposite him. 

“How was your day?” he asked, handing you a straw.

“Same as always,” you replied with a shrug, placing your straw in your cola before taking a sip. “Just trying to keep my head down.”

He nodded, taking a sip of his beer. “Yeah, it’s been tough with all these rumors flying around.” 

You sighed, rubbing a hand over your face. “I just want it to be over,” you admitted. “I can’t keep worrying about someone finding out.” 

His eyes softened with sympathy. “Look, whatever happened, we’ll deal with it,” he assured you. “Anyway, it’s not like you slept with him…” 

It took you a moment to think about his choice of words, you couldn’t recall ever telling him you hadn't slept with John or not. Shaking your head, the thought left your mind. Of course, Bucky knew you never slept with John, no one in this friend group can keep anything to themselves. 

Just as you were about to change the subject, the door swung open, and again, in walked John’s wife. Her eyes scanned the room until they landed on you. Marching straight over, her expression was a mixture of determination and desperation. 

“You,” she said, pointing a finger in your direction. “We need to talk.” 

The bar fell silent, and everyone’s eyes turned to you. A sinking feeling settled in your stomach as you met her gaze, knowing there was nowhere to run. 

Immediately standing up, Bucky positioned himself protectively in front of you. “Look, lady. We’ve already told you,” his tone was firm but calm. “We don’t know anything,”

Her eyes flicked to Bucky, then back at you. “She does,” she said, her voice trembling. “I need answers, now. John was last seen with people like… “She looked Bucky up and down before continuing. “... you. And, now he’s gone.” 

You took a deep breath and began to fidget with the sleeves of your cardigan, trying to steady your nerves. “He wasn’t honest with you,” you began, your voice trembling. Bucky looked at you, his expression unreadable. Turning back to John’s wife, you noticed a mix of hope and fear in her eyes as she looked back at you. “I, I didn’t know he was married. I only found out after he disappeared. He… we were dating.” 

Her eyes widened, her face draining of color. “What?” she whispered, taking a step back. “You’re saying…?”

You nodded, a lump forming in your throat as your eyes began to well. “I’m so sorry, I had no idea. If I had known, I never would have agreed to go with him.” 

For a moment, she started at you, her emotions were conflicting on her face. Then, she looked down, her shoulders slumping as the reality of your words sank in. “I knew he was hiding someone,” she said softly, mostly to herself. “That doesn’t explain why he started coming home with his face black and blue…” she trailed off. 

You noticed Bucky subtly move his hands to his pockets, concealing the marks on his knuckles that seemed like a permanent feature.

“I promise you, we had nothing to do with his disappearance,” you said, your voice shaking as the tears began to spill. “But, you deserved the truth about him.” You felt a pang of guilt knowing the pain that your words had caused. 

Her eyes filled with tears as she looked back at you, “Thank you, I needed to hear it, even if it hurts,” 

With a final moment in silence, she turned and left the bar. She left you and Bucky standing there, the weight of your confession hung heavy in the air. 

Bucky turned to you, his eyes full of empathy as he placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “You did the right thing,” he said softly, pulling you into a tight hug.

The ambient noise of the bar returned as the conversation resumed around you. Sitting back down in the booth, the feeling of your confession set heavy on your shoulders. Despite Bucky’s reassurance, you still felt a sense of doubt.

---

Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

[4doras]

HAUNTED HEARTS ౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆

you signed up for a job at a halloween night park, you didn’t know a boy(friend) was part of it… ⊹♡

yujin x reader | strangers to lovers

genre. fluff (lowercase intended)

wc. 0.6k

a/n. initially had a ricky halloween fic and i didn’t like it BUT i wanted to write another fic for zb1 so here u guys go ~ ALSO i didn’t proofread this so please tell me if there are any typos or grammar issues!! ><

you got employed at a theme park for halloween, you expected nothing different from the usual, dark night, full of masked people dressed up as monsters. what you didn't know was that part of the job was; surviving the night with a cute boy. you never minded working with guys but he was different, he was your type. he, who was called han yujin, looked like a bunny, was shy, and very polite. the only thing that almost made you decline was that the shift was from 7PM to 12AM, it was gonna be a long night.

more under the cut!

you patiently waited for yujin to get dressed in his uniform and fix his hair. “so, before you let the people go, you have to pull on their safety belts and make sure it can’t move. once you’re sure they can move, just wait for me and i’ll press the button.” for every word, he demonstrated an action to match what he was saying.

when the first wave of people came in, you started getting nervous. you never liked displaying your emotions so no one needed to comfort you, but it was as if yujin could read through you. “hey, don’t worry, you’ll do fine.” he smiled. it warmed your heart when you realized that he noticed how you were feeling, you smiled back at him with a small chuckle.

you attempted to lift the belts, then once all were secured, you walked back and waited for yujin to finish his part. “you can press it if yours are secured.” you said, and yujin let them go.

while the audience zoomed off, you and yujin chatted. “so you're here every year?” you asked yujin. “mhm, my school funds this a little so i think it's good to do it every year.” he explained, while simultaneously maintaining perfect eye contact with you. “what school do you go to?” you didn’t know that a school funded this, even if it was only a bit. “Zerose High, what about you?” “i go to Zerose High, too. its weird, i haven’t seen you before.” you were confused to say the least, how come you hadn’t seen him before if you were the same age and went to the same school? “i hang out with seniors, maybe that’s why.” he sighed, “by the way, you’re really pretty.” the confession caught you off guard. sometimes, students at school would confess to you and it made you seriously uncomfortable. but it was odd. everything yujin did, you never felt awkward around him. “t-thank you,” you stuttered. you felt a warmth spread across your cheeks. “you’re cute, too.” you said, truthfully. he became shy after your compliment, it wasn’t like you were saying it to say it, and he must’ve realized you weren’t just complimenting him. you really did think he was cute.

the both of you continued your night together, always chatting between the rides like it was a tradition, slowly becoming closer within your five hour shift.

before you both left the park, you saw a photo booth. you got into the booth with yujin, your bodies basically glued to each other with the limited space. the two of you flashed silly poses, making hearts together, and whatever you could think of within the ten seconds. you couldn’t ever predict what yujin would’ve done. as you posed for your third box, yujin’s hand had found its way onto your waist, gently holding you closer. when the last box came, yujin wrapped his arm around your back, bringing you to face him and softly kissed you. endless thoughts galloped through your mind, why was he kissing you? why did it feel so natural? you couldn’t find any answer.

your hand felt magnetized to yujin’s hair, you played with it while the camera took a picture. once the camera snapped a frame, it printed out the picture, which you would cherish as your best memory forever. yujin pulled away from you, his face flushed with red.

“i like you a lot, y/n.”

i suppose working until midnight was worth it…

[trueangel420]

kit walker, “I said it really nicely, so can you be my savior?” kinda outta luck - ldr ౨ৎ part 2 of this wc 1038 (it’s so short)

You stood at the payphone, fingers curled around the wire as you leaned back against the glass booth. Your mother’s voice boomed through the static: “You’ve been riding around the South with that man? Baby, you haven’t stolen his car yet.” She wasn’t one to judge; she knew how impulsive you could be. After a few hours of traveling with Kit, she was worried about her little troublemaker.

“Ma!” you whispered into the phone, glancing back at the gas station. “I’m not stealin’ his car. I tried already,” you mumbled, embarrassment washing over you again.

“We’ve been driving around all night, Ma. I’m trying to behave,” you said, hearing her sigh through the phone. She was always supportive, no matter what. “Go into that gas station and get something. You don’t have to hurt that good man. He’s helping you out of the kindness of his heart, Bunny.” That was true. You needed some clothes and refreshments, and you didn’t plan on paying for them. You hung up the phone and stepped out of the glass booth, walking past Kit as he filled up his tank.

“Need me to come in with you, doll?” He called out, making you pause. God, he was polite—probably the nicest man you’d ever met.

“No need, just grabbing a few things,” you replied, eyeing his clothes. Unlike you, he had extra clothes in his car and had changed into jeans and a tank top—something simple to beat the heat. His outfit was clean, showing off the outline of his body perfectly. He reached for his wallet, waving it.

“Here,” he offered.

You shook your head, forcing a smile. “No, I got it,” you insisted, even though you had nothing but the lint in your pockets. Kit watched you with those kind eyes as you turned and headed into the gas station, the bell above the door chiming softly as you entered.

The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting a harsh glow over the rows of snacks and drinks. You grabbed a basket and started tossing in essentials—water, gas station sandwiches, and a six-pack of Coke. Making your way to the back, where the clothes were, you spotted an American flag bikini and a pair of shorts. A beach bag caught your eye—one big enough to fit everything. You decided to stuff all your items in there.

Glancing back, you noticed the old clerk wasn't paying any attention. Perfect. You looked outside and saw Kit waiting in the car, his hands tapping on the wheel. “Getaway driver,” you mumbled to yourself, laughing. That's what he's going to be when you're done.

You made your way to the cashier, holding the bag like it was yours and flashing him a sweet smile. “Do you happen to have any cigarettes?” you asked, trying to distract him. The man shook his head and looked behind him. "I don't suppose I do, little lady. We have... well," he started to search more thoroughly, and you slipped a chocolate bar off the counter into your bag.

“Well, I'll be on my way if you don't. Have a good day, mister!” you said, leaving—your pace casual, though you didn't want him to notice his loot slung over your arm.

You sat in the passenger seat, and Kit watched you closely before clearing his throat. “I feel bad for having you pay for it, doll. Can I make it up to you?” Though it had only been a few hours, Kit was already incredibly sweet on you.

You bit your lip, glancing over at him. He offered, and he’s been so kind—he doesn’t even know you. “I don’t even know where you're going. I don’t want this to be our last stop,” he confessed voice lower than usual, his eyes focused on you. “Do you want to keep going with me? Don’t you have people back home?”

He shook his head. “They don’t matter, not after I met you.”

“You don’t know me from a can of paint, Kit—” He shook his head again and started the engine, his hands tapping the wheel. “Don’t need to know you, sugar. Didn’t you hear me say that?”

“I’m bad news,” you blurted out, looking at him. His face twisted in confusion as he rubbed his jaw, keeping one hand on the wheel. He finally settled on his words.

“Don’t care.”

“Why?” you whispered, gawking at him like he was insane. He’d only met you hours ago and now he wanted to stay on the route you were going. A wild girl like you—you didn’t even have a plan, just to get as far away from that gun and that truck as you could. He turned on the radio, keeping the volume low as "My Girl" played.

“I got sunshine on a cloudy day,” he sang along, ignoring you. “I guess you say what can make me feel this way,” he glanced at you, “my girl.”

“Come on, Kit, stop—” you tried to keep a straight face, your lips pressed into a line.

“Why? Because you’re different, that’s why. You got somethin’ in you. I can see it now—you and me traveling together for a long time,” he said fondly, his cheeks slightly pink as he continued to drive. The road was quiet, and the sun started to set. You needed to make a decision about him. You needed to be truthful—you needed to be careful.

“Kit…” you started, turning towards him as you spoke. He glanced at you before staring at the road again. “I’ve hurt people. I’m a—” You recalled all the things you did; this wasn’t your first time stealing and hurting people close to you. Trouble followed you insatiably.

“I don’t need money, fortune, or fame,” he hummed to the song. “I guess you say what can make me feel this way, my girl,” he looked at you again, smiling.

“Kit, I’ve ki—”

“Don’t tell me,” your eyes widened at his words. What? Don’t tell him? What was his problem.. why did he trust you so much—why did he like you so much?

“D-don’t tell you?”

“Don’t tell me, sugar.” You nibbled your bottom lip, realizing he was serious about this, about being here with you. “Turn left here—it’s a motel,” you murmured, watching him nod and make the turn.

[purplecoffee13]

The Fake Girlfriend - pt. 4*

Summary: “Harry and Y/N faked their break-up when they got back to the wedding, and they haven’t seen each other since. But Y/N can’t handle the silence, and decides to confront him.”

Wc: 5.2k

Tropes: semi-enemies-to-lovers (she hates him)

Warnings: angst, overdue confessions, possessiveness, feral!Harry, elevator sex, multiple orgasms (f!receiving), overstimulation (slightly)

A/N: The final part is here!!! I hope you enjoyed this little ride. Thank you for the likes, reblogs and comments. I just wrote this in one sitting, and I haven’t actively proof read it, but I wanted to upload it anyway and I’ll go over it again tomorrow. Enjoy!

It has been three weeks since Harry and I flew back home. After our adventure in the broom closet, Harry’s entire energy had shifted and he was being distant, except when we needed to prove to everyone that we were a couple.

The flight was nothing short of excruciating, and a part of my soul, one that I had decided to lock up for my own sanity, hoped that the plane would never hit the ground. It had become evident that once back home, everything would go back to how it used to be. That stupid flight was the last time I could pretend Harry and I would ever stand a chance.

I was in awe with how fast I'd fallen for him, but seeing him around his family, having him touch me in the ways he did, and watching his eyes sparkle whenever he looked at me. I'm positive I'm making half of it up, especially because I've been reeling over everything that happened over the past week.

Harry and I had agreed, before we even stepped on the plane to Italy, to just tell our friends that it didn't work out once we got back. To say that we got into a fight on the way home, and we were back to hating each other's guts.

At the time I wondered how I was going to fake being heart broken in front of my friends, but I didn't have to lie. Zoey and Natalia were shocked to see how affected I was by this supposed break-up. They never said 'I told you so', but I know they were thinking it. Nonetheless, they stayed with me, talking about it all night.

I managed to twist the story to fit the narrative Harry and I told everyone. I just needed to talk to someone about the whole situation with Ophelia and how I felt foolish for ever thinking we'd have a shot in the first place.

A week after we got back, I saw him in the hallway of the literature building. He doesn't take any literary classes, so I was startled when I saw him standing there. He was alone, and looking at me, but he didn't walk up to me. I tore my gaze away from him and walked into the classroom. I still don't know what we talked about in that class, but I remember sitting by the window to watch him walk to the engineering building, hands buried in his pockets.

Thirty days have passed, and I'm still not entirely over it. Zoey and Natalia asked me to go out for drinks tonight, and I reluctantly accepted. I need to get out of this house and start moving on from the confusing mess I worked myself into.

We meet at a local Irish pub near the campus. Upon arriving, I almost immediately spot the girls sitting in one of the bigger booths. As I near, I spot a few of Malcolm's friends, and my ex himself in the booth too. Zoey sees me and comes running as fast as she can, pulling me away from the table.

"I am so sorry!" She begins, a stressed look on her face. "We texted you that he was here, but we weren't sure if you'd get them in time. I swear, we didn't know he was coming."

I throw her a smile, then pull her into a hug. Zoey stays still first, but slowly wraps her around me too. When I get out of the hug and look back at her, her wide eyes are filled with question marks.

"I really don't care, but thank you for trying to warn me." I rub her arms soothingly. I still sound sad, I know that, but I can't help it. Maybe a beer will help me relieve some of the weight I've been feeling on my shoulders these past few weeks.

"You really liked Harry, didn't you?" She asks me, and I nod, because it's in the past now so there is no point in denying it anymore. "Even though you dated for such a short time."

"He just... I don't know, Zoe. He felt so familiar, and I thought that meant something..." I shrug, feeling my heart strain as I talk. "But it didn't. My mistake."

Zoey gives me a sad smile, and suggests to go get a drink. I agree and we walk to the bar together, where we both order some kind of special beer we've never tasted before. We get caught up in a conversation, and our huge glasses are half-empty by the time we get back to the booth. I greet everyone, blowing a kiss to Natalia who sits in the middle of the booth. She shares the same worried look as Zoey, but at the sight of our faces, she relaxes a bit.

I feel Malcolm's burning stare on me. He is sitting with his arm around another girl, slouched back, fiddling with his empty glass on the table. I don't gift him the satisfaction of meeting his eye any more than necessary, and pick up the conversation with Zoey where we left it off.

An hour goes by, and no one dares to mention Harry so far, which makes me a lucky girl because I don't want to hear about him right now. But I think my mind jinxed it, unfortunately, because over Zoey, Natalia and my laughter, I hear Malcolm's voice say something I didn't even know I was dreading until the words come out of his mouth.

"Did you see that blonde chick Harry was with the other day?" He asks Noel, one of his idiot friends, who has always hated me for some reason. Noel nods intently.

"Oh yeah she was insanely hot, where the fuck did he even get her from?" He replies, and even though I'm not looking at him, I can feel the smirk in his voice.

But I don't really care about the malice with which those words were spoken. All I can think about is the word 'blonde', and how much I wish it isn't who I think it is.

I take a deep breath and finish my beer in one go. I have taken note of the awkward silence that dominates the table, but I don't let it get me self-conscious.

"I have to go." I say to Zoey, and start moving towards the end of the booth. She moves along with me and gets out of the booth so I can get out, but she looks concerned.

"Don't let Mal get to you. He's a jerk." She pleas, and I shake my head.

"He isn't getting to me. I just need to go, I need to see Harry." I explain, even though I'm risking the chance that Natalia and Zoey will physically restrain me from going.

"I'll drive you." I hear Natalia say from behind me. I turn around and see her getting out of the booth as she throws on her jacket.

"Where are you guys going?" Noel asks, a bit of an angry tone in his voice. Natalia turns around and scowls at him.

"To find guys whose balls have dropped."

With that, Zoey and Natalia escort me out of the pub, and we giggle as we get into the car.

"Okay, where does he live again?" Natalia says, getting her car GPS ready. I give her the address, which is actually quite close to the pub, and in under five minutes we have arrived at his apartment complex. I've never been here before, but I keep that to myself, of course.

"All right," Natalia and Zoey turn around to me, who is sitting in the backseat. "let us know when you're inside and if you want us to wait, okay?"

I nod at them, and they cheer me on as I get out of the car. Anxiety fills me as I make my way towards the door, and I feel like I might just throw up as I ring the bell. However, Harry doesn't answer it. To my luck, a woman opens the door from the inside, and holds the door for me so I can walk inside.

Utter fear and excitement make my body shiver as I stand in the empty elevator, waiting to reach the seventh floor where Harry lives. I speed walk towards his front door, but once I'm in front of her, I get increasingly more anxious about knocking.

What if Ophelia is still here? What if they're inside together? I'd look like a fool. Hell, I already do. What part of me even assumed he feels something for me in the first place. For all I know, he doesn't give two shits about me.

But the second I take a physical step back, I shake my head. No, I need to talk to him.

I knock a couple of times, but there is no answer. I stand there for a minute, then knock again. After three minutes of standing there in silence, my shoulders start to slump. He's not here. But there is a string of motivation that pulls me along anyway, and it makes me pick up my phone and dial his number.

Much like his door, he doesn't answer the phone, and I am connected to his voicemail. I take a deep breathe as the peep reaches my ear.

"Hi," I softly say when the peep has faded and it's up to me to leave him a message. "I... I'm uh, I'm at your apartment, but you're not home— Of course, otherwise I wouldn't have had to leave this voicemail."

I squeeze my eyes shut at the awkward trailing off, and clench my jaw to shut myself up before I say too much stupid shit.

"But uhm, I heard you were with— never mind. Can we talk? Let me know, okay?" I stumble, before hanging up. I sigh, rolling my eyes at my own stupidity as I walk back to the elevator.

When I'm back at the car again, the girls are quick to jump me with questions, but their voices fade at the sight of my disappointed face.

"We'll drop you off at your apartment, okay?" Natalia says as Zoey grabs my hand and squeezes it. I silently nod, feeling too stupid to talk or move.

It doesn't take long to get to my apartment, which is on campus. I huh the girls goodbye and make a beeline for the elevator, wanting to get into my bed as soon as possible and watch movies for the rest of the night.

When the elevator reaches my floor, I am quick to step out, but my eyes widen at the person I spot.

At my front door is Harry, whose head shoots towards me at the ping of the elevator. His eyebrows raise at the sight of me, like he's relieved to see me. In a matter of seconds, he's standing in front of me.

"What are you doing here?" I managed to say, my mind cloudy from the surprise of him standing at my front door after I just came back from standing at his front door.

"Making up for my stupidity." He says without missing a beat, a sad look in his eyes. It looks an awful lot like the way he looked at me in the broom closet as his energy completely shifted and he emotionally closed himself off from me for the rest of the trip.

"D– did you get my voicemail?" I ask him, but he shakes his head. I stare at him, doe eyed. Freaky.

"I was just at your apartment. You weren't there, and I thought you were with... Malcolm said he saw you with a blonde girl and I... oh, I don't know I'm rambling." I wave it off, shrugging my shoulders.

"I wasn't." Harry leans down to meet my eyes, and when he does, he says it again. "I wasn't."

He cups my face with his hands and waits for me to respond to him. I nod, softly, my stomach turning at the touch of his hands on my face, and I fight the urge to close my eyes.

"Look, this whole thing is stupid. I caught feelings, and I think I saw things and found meanings that weren't there." I confess to him, the tension in my body already starting to fade away. "I just got weirdly jealous of Ophelia. I mean, here I was with this crush that had been developing for a couple weeks, while she has this deep history with you. I know I can't compete with someone like that."

Harry frowns as if I'm telling him lies, and it gets me a little bit insecure.

"But, I don't know. I guess I just wanted to apologize for if I made things weirder than they needed to be." I give him a half-smile. "So, sorry."

It stays silent between us, for a couple of minutes, but then Harry let's put a short laugh. My cheeks begin to heat up at the sound of it. Is he laughing at me?

I roll my eyes. I thought he was serious about talking to me, and now I feel stupid for what I just said. I go to walk past him, but he doesn't allow me to.

"Let me through." I demand, trying to push his arm away, but he just shakes his head.

"No."

"I'm not going to stand if you're just going to laugh at me. Let me through, Harry." I argue, but he doesn't budge. I groan loudly, then turn around and walk towards the elevator. I hear his footsteps behind me , but I ignore them.

"What are you doing?" He asks, watching me as I push the button from the elevator over and over again, as if it has any effect on the speed with which it will arrive.

"Getting away from you." I grit through my teeth, a little sense of victory washing over me as the elevator door opens. I have no idea where I'm going, but I'm currently opting for tattling Harry to the janitor so he'll get kicked out of the building.

Not so much to my surprise, he follows, standing in front of the buttons. He smirks lazily as I try to move him away, and eventually manage to push the '1' button. The door closes, and I go to turn around, but Harry pulls me back against him, and suddenly the elevator starts shaking a bit, and we come to a halt. I push Harry's arm away from my waist and turn around to see his hand still around the emergency stop. My eyes widen at the realization of what he just did.

"What did you do?!" I cry out.

"We weren't done talking." He says, face turned serious again.

"We were." I argue, crossing my arms. He rolls his eyes at me, just like I did before.

"We were not."

"Well, I was!"

"You can be so difficult sometimes, do you know that?" He tells me, voice strained with irritation.

"Says the guy who stopped the elevator!" I fight back.

"You won't hear me out." Harry reasons, and he's right. I don't. I'm too mad to hear him out right now. So, I don't respond to him with anything but a scowl. He takes a step closer, and I instinctively take one back, tearing my eyes off him and instead staring at the ground.

"And if you don't hear me out, you wouldn't know that Ophelia was never here. I haven't seen her since the wedding. They probably saw me with someone from class." He tells me, and while I feel relieved, I also feel like an idiot for ever having the plan to let janitor Hector throw Harry out of the building.

"And you also wouldn't know that when I was eighteen, I went to this pool party, and I saw this girl in a lilac bikini, playing volleyball in the pool with a beer in her hand," He steps closer again, and I let him. My brows knit and I meet his eyes. "and I fell in love with her right then and there."

I remember that party. I didn't know he was there, too.

"But she was dancing with someone else, so I hooked up with this girl named Marie. And when I went on a date with her, I discovered her best friend was the girl from the pool party." He explains, and I scoff. What a pretty fairytale like story, too good to be true. Harry shakes his head slowly, and then cups my face with his hands again.

"I swear to god, Y/N. I've liked you from the first time I laid eyes on you three years ago. I was young, and stupid and I'm sorry you lost that friendship because of me. I shouldn't have made a move on you while dating someone else, that was stupid and I can't take that back. But I got too excited with the fact that I could finally talk to you."

"You worry about me and Ophelia's history. Well, I've wanted you for three years. I've just been waiting for even a sliver of a chance, and I promised myself I wouldn't fuck it up when I got it." He tells me, and the generosity in his voice makes me want to cry. "I just got a bit nervous, after what happened those two nights. I didn't want it to be a one time thing. But I acted too distant, I shouldn't have done that. But I swear, from the moment I saw you, it's been you. Not Ophelia or anyone else, just you, okay? And if you don't believe me, let me add that my parents actually don't know Leila's gay."

I take a deep, shaky breath, unable to take my eyes off of him, and then push my lips onto his. It's sudden, and it's needy, and it stems from the overwhelming urge to be as close to him as I possibly can. I can't articulate what I feel but I can show it by the way I kiss him.

He doesn't waste anytime and deepens the kiss as soon as my arms have flung around his neck. His tongue dances around mine hungrily, but there is still this gentleness in his movements. He is holding back a bit, as if he kissing me like he really wants to will make me disappear. I decide to pull out of the kiss for a moment, and we stare at each other, breathless with the passion that is burning in both our bodies.

"I missed you." I blurt out, shocking myself and him. Harry's mouth forms into a wide smile, and dives his head straight into my neck. A moan escapes my mouth the second I feel him starting to suck on my skin.

"Harry... we probably shouldn't do this here." I protest ever so slightly, because I actually do not care but I'd rather have him in my bed than against the hard wall. "Let's go back to my place."

He kisses his way up to my jaw, and gums in agreement. I go to step away from him to push back the emergency stop, but Harry doesn't let me. He puts his left hand around my neck and kisses me again, while his right hand hikes up my skirt. Upon stopping the kiss, he leans into my ear.

"We'll get out of here once you've had an orgasm. Consider it an apology for laughing just now." He purred. The combination his heavy breathing and his fingers slipping into my panties makes me shut my eyes tightly. He strokes my pussy with two of his fingers, getting a feel of my wetness.

"Poor girl, I've got you all soaked, don't I?" He taunts as he begins to rub my clit. I moan a 'yes', too aroused to be able to handle the slow teasing. I just want to come so we can get out of here and he can fuck me on my bed.

"Harry, please..." I plead with him, and somewhat of a growl leaves his mouth. His fingers disappear from my heat and I whine at the sudden coolness of my underwear's fabric in my pussy.

I hear the jingle of his belt and I look down to see him taking his rock hard cock out of his pants. Before I can even ask what he's doing, Harry grabs my ass and lifts me up. I instinctively wrap my legs around him, gasping at the feel of his cock against my wet folds.

"I'm going to give you my cock baby, and you're going to take it like the good girl you are, alright?" He commands, taking my underwear between both of his hands and ripping it apart. I widen my eyes at the sight of him pushing away my torn panties, but I'm too turned on from it to get mad.

"Harry, we're in an elevator. What if other people—"

"Do I look like I give a shit about other people? They can take the stairs for all I care." He interrupts me, voice raised a bit. I shake my head ever so hesitantly. "Now, do you want my cock or not?"

He slaps my thigh when I don't respond to him immediately, so I nod as fast as I can.

"Yes, I want it. Please." I look at him, and he leans in to kiss me again. This time it's harsh, and sloppy and needy, the passion having turned into a rough fire that can only be put out with a hard fuck.

He stops the kiss, aligns himself with my pussy, and then pushes himself into me. I let out a shameless cry at the feeling of his dick gliding into me. It's so easy because of how wet I am, and I like how big he is and how it hurts the first minute.

"Fuck, you have no idea how much I've dreamed of this, love." He starts out slow, knowing his size is something to get used to, but I want none of that.

"Go faster, Harry. I don't care if it hurts, I just want you." I gasp into his mouth in between kisses, and he groans loudly before pushing himself into me with a sharp trust that gives me a burning feeling in my core. It's like I've turned a switch, because Harry's pace is unbelievable and I find it might be too much to handle. Every thought I have fades away until the only thing I can think about is him.

I moan like we're in an isolated room and watch his beautiful face and the curls that fall in front of his face because of the harshness of the thrusts.

"Ah! Fuck, fuck, Harry!" The only words I'm able to articulate from all that are flying through my brain.

"Thaaat's it baby. You get what you asked for " He smirks, his fingers finding their way to my clit. I cry out from the moment he starts to rub circles on it, and I know I won't last very long anymore.

"Are you gonna cum for me already, baby? Are you gonna cream all over my thick cock?" He asks and I can't help but scream out. My tits are almost spilling out of my top because of the way Harry's fucking me against this wall.

"Yes, yes, please! I'm gonna—" I can't even finish my sentence before my orgasm takes ahold of my body, mind and soul. My walls are pulsating around Harry and I'm pulling on his hair for some kind of support as I fall apart. I try to catch my breath, but I'm not able to because Harry drills into me even harder than before.

"H– Harry what are you, oh..." My eyes roll to the back of my head at the amount of stimulation that I'm currently feeling. My grip on his head loosens and I slowly start becoming nothing but a rag doll for him to fuck stupid.

"You're mine now." He growls, and I nod at him, too out of breath to say anything. "And I'm going fuck you until I cum inside your sweet pussy, and you'll hold it in there until we get to your apartment. Do you understand?"

I nod at his request, but he isn't pleased with that. He wraps one of his hands around my neck and squeezes ever so slightly.

"I said: do you understand?"

"I understand." I sputter out, and with that he is back to pounding himself into me. He doesn't take his time, and I know it's because he needs this release just as much as I do. His thumb finds its way to my button again and he continues rubbing and rubbing until I'm nothing but a shivering mess under him.

"Look at you, getting fucked stupid in an elevator by your boyfriend. Such a little slut, all for– fuck! All for me, huh?" He rambles and nothing but words of agreement leave my mouth at his dirty words as I feel my legs tremble with the arrival of a second orgasm.

I push Harry's face against mine to muffle my own scream, but the way he moans into me doesn't quite help my case.

"Fuck I'm gonna cum, baby." He says, and I gather all my mental strength to return some of that dirty talk he's been providing me with.

"Cum for me, please. I need it so fucking bad, baby. Make me yours." I mewl and his thrusts become more erratic with every word I utter, and by the time I'm done talking, I feel the hot spurts of his cum coating my walls.

We're both unable to talk for a minute. We stand there, catching our breath with our foreheads pressed against each other.

"I'm gonna pull out, baby." Harry says after another minute of coming back to earth. I nod tiredly, and hiss as he removes his dick from me. He slowly lowers my legs to the ground, but I hold on tight to his neck because my legs need a few seconds to adjust to holding up my entire body weight.

Harry puts on his pants again and shimmies down my skirt for me before pushing the emergency stop. The elevator goes up almost immediately, but it feels like forever, especially with the feeling of Harry's cum starting to leak out of me. I do my best to hold it in, but it's hard when your legs have just done the most intense work-out they've ever done in their entire life.

When the elevator door opens on my floor, we are met with another couple, who looks at us with a frown when met with the state of us. It doesn't help that the elevator smells like sex now, so we walk out as quickly as we can, Harry adding a cheeky 'goodnight' before we rush to my door.

We both burst into laughter the second the elevator closes and I open my front door for us to get in. Once inside, Harry picks me up and Carrie's me to my couch, where he lays me down on my back. He lies on top of me, partly holding himself up so I don't crush under him, and gives me a deep, long kiss.

His hands stroke through my hair as our lips brush against each other. It's delicate and I could cry at the softness of it all. Harry pulls out of the kiss to analyze my face. He takes in every feature, as do I, and after a bit of silence he speaks up.

"I can't believe you let me have you." He says, those stars in his eyes that I love so much.

"I can't believe your parents don't know Leila's gay."

That makes him laugh, and in time me, because his laugh is the most beautiful thing I've ever heard, apart from his moans.

"You liked me for three years." I state what he said earlier, and he nods a genuine nod.

"Three and half, to be exact."

"You're crazy." I shake my head with a chuckle.

"Deal with it. Your boyfriend is a crazy guy." He says and kisses my neck again, before moving away from me.

"Where are you going?" I ask with a frown, not happy with him just going away out of nowhere. I roll my eyes when he hikes up my skirt once again and starts kissing my thigh.

"Harry, I already came two times. I don't know if I'll be able to come."

"Ssh, baby. Just want a taste." He says before attaching his mouth to my clit. I let out a shriek at how intense the feeling is, especially in regards to the sensitivity of my clit.

I become a moaning mess right away, and my hand finds its way to his hair. He sucks and licks long stripes all over my pussy. He lifts his face for a moment, mouth and nose glistening with our arousal and pushes two of his fingers further and further into my mouth. I suck on them with a satisfied moan, until he retracts them and shoved them into my already filled up hole.

"Oh, m– oh my god!" I whimper as his fingers pump in and out of me, and he knocks me out of the park when he starts flicking his tongue over my clit.

I know my orgasm is closing in, but I've never experienced three orgasms in one night before, and I have to say I'm slightly scared of this one. Everything feels so intense that I don't know how I'm going to react to this third one.

A string of curses and moans are the only thing that leave my mouth as I shut my eyes so tight that I swear I see stars, and my entire body pulsates as he helps me ride out my high. I don't even have the strength to open my eyes until Harry gets back on eye level with me.

"Open your eyes baby." He whispers, his fingers caressing my cheek. My eyes flutter open and I whine incoherently.

"I know love, I know. I'll get you all cleaned up and then we' go to sleep, alright." He tells me, planting a kiss on my cheek before getting up and scooping me up from the couch. I already feel awake enough to walk myself, but I keep quiet so he can carry me to my bathroom.

He strips both of us from our clothes and turns on the shower. He cleans me up, even though I insist I do it myself, and afterwards he also fancies himself in charge of what I'm wearing to bed. He picks out a simple, oversized Metallica t-shirt I got from my dad, and helps me put it on before getting into bed with me.

I have to say I am quite sleepy, so my eyes fall shut quite easily. Harry keeps on playing with my now wet hair, making me even more drowsy.

"I won't mess this up." He says, mostly to himself, I think. But I respond anyway.

"I won't let you."

[sad-girl-hours23]

Thinking about Buck,

Still not over Tommy, deeply unsatisfied being under anyone else (he's tried and lost count how many times). His best friend has moved away; he's happy Eddie's working things out with Chris, but he misses them both terribly.

Amongst every one else, he feels...not so much a divide, but maybe less enmeshed than they used to be.

Nothing's wrong with his job, but well, it's starting to feel a lot less like his whole life and purpose and more like just that: a job. He's stagnant. Stuck.

He feels an itch under his skin that he can't scratch in any of his usual ways.

He's over pouring out his love into a Kitchen aid mixer. He's done trying to bury his need for connection into hook-ups.

Realizes maybe he's not as settled as he thought he was. Maybe he's still searching; but for what, he doesn't know. Himself. His purpose. Love.

Realizes he misses not being stuck in one place.

So he takes a vacation. Spends two weeks in Japan. Tells himself he won't create a full itinerary for his time there (he spends most of his flight doing so anyway, but he compromises with himself and leaves his second week open).

He reads about the Wind Phone. How people travel from all over to talk to their late loved ones through a rotary phone.

He doesn't go his first week there, but the thought of it is never far from his mind. (He's held hands with Death, he isn't sure what he's so afraid of).

He gets to the garden of Bell Gardia.

He thinks about Red Delacroix, who warned him against making firefighting his whole life. “You can be the hero and save lives, but don’t neglect having your own. Last thing you want is to be at the end holding nothing but regrets.” So he talks to Red; tells him he hasn't quite figured it out, is scared he never will.

He comes back the next day, Thomas on his mind. Buck tells him how he found his scrapbook the other day (he had forgotten that he'd even taken it). He tells him about Tommy, the love he thought he finally found (then lost). He smiles. "I know, I know. You don't find it, you make it." He can't help the crack in his voice "I really thought we were."

Buck wonders what it says about him that he's spending his vacation talking to dead. Knows he's not done yet

He comes back the next day, and the day after that, and the one after that. He talks to Daniel each time. He isn't quite sure how to picture him; the age he was in the last photos taken of him, the age when he died, the older Daniel that his coma dream imagined up? He talks to them all.

He gives him the abridged version of his life. Wonders if he should leave out the parts he knows would break his brother's heart, leaves them in anyway. It's cathartic; to confess of the survivor's guilt he's carried since learning of Daniel, how it all came flooding back when woke up from his coma, how it felt like he was letting him down again in the interest of his own survival.

He's certain he's out of tears, and he may not have a voice left by the end of his trip.

But he's got one more phone call to make. And he can't make it here, in this haunted phone booth. And he doesn't want to wait until it's too late.

He hasn't figured it all out. He doesn't know where him and Tommy went wrong. He knows they're both haunted by their own ghosts.

But Tommy's still here. And unlike Buck's ghosts on the other end of the phone, he can talk back.

So Buck does what he should have done months ago. He calls Tommy. He nearly sobs in relief when he hears a breath on the other end and a quiet, "Evan?"

[starstruckunknown-princess]

Cornflower - Poe Dameron x Reader

Cornflower (Centaurea cyanus) - Meaning: Hope in love

Summary: Your feelings for Poe come to a head after a night of drinking.

Pairing: Poe Dameron x Reader

Word Count: 856

Warnings: Angst/Fluff, Alcohol use/slight drunkenness, reader has feminine qualities (wears makeup and a dress) but is otherwise not physically described, use of nicknames (sweetheart, sweetness, starshine), confession of feelings, kissing

Day 18 is for Fluffy endings! Slight angst but ends with fluff.

In Bloom Masterlist

Likes, Comments, Reblogs are ALWAYS appreciated! ❤️

“Maker above, Dameron, what will it take for you to ask me out already?” 

The cantina was mostly empty by now, and your body was buzzing with the alcohol you’d consumed. You’d gotten all dressed up, styled your hair — kriff, you’d even worn makeup in the hopes that after months and months of flirting Poe Dameron would finally ask you out. Dropping hint after hint that night had frayed your nerves and now that it was just the two of you left in the booth, you had snapped. 

Poe’s face looked like you had slapped him, perfect lips parted before setting into a firm line. He scooted back a bit, putting distance between you for the first time all night. 

He sighed, long and hard and your stomach clenched. 

“Look, sweetheart—” he started. 

“Oh, no,” you interrupted, gut falling into your shoes. “Did I misread this? All the flirting, the touches, the lingering glances — it’s all been in my head, right?” 

“No!” Poe said as your panic spiked and you looked around you, ready to bolt. “No, sweetness, it’s not all in your head.”

He put his big hands on your shoulders to keep you from running away. The haze of booze made his grip feel heavier than it actually was, the warmth radiating from his hands was insanely comforting. 

“But I…I can’t right now,” he said, tone laced with regret. 

You tilted your head at him in confusion. “Can’t what, Poe?” 

His dark eyes met yours, brow furrowing to convey the seriousness of his position, “Look, my job right now is to hop in an X-wing and blow things up and in case you hadn’t noticed, it’s not the safest of occupations.” 

You nodded gravely, knowing how many good pilots hadn’t come back. 

“So I can’t get into a relationship right now,” he said, trailing his hand down your arm and taking your hand in his. “Because I can’t be the reason someone like you falls apart in case I don’t make it back.” 

Your heart broke for him then. Suddenly, the string of one-night stands and broken hearts left in his wake made sense. All you wanted to do was wrap him in your arms and assure him that you could handle it, you wouldn’t fall apart if he didn’t come back from a mission. 

But that would be a lie. Even with him as a friend, you knew you wouldn’t recover if Poe died in the line of duty. Of course, you knew it was a risk every time he got in his X-wing but that was just a fact of life in the Resistance. You had something bigger you were fighting for. Everyone on base was prepared to die for it. 

What would it take for Poe to live for it? 

With his hand over yours on the table, his thumb absently tracing your knuckles and slowly driving you insane, you couldn’t take it anymore. 

You ripped your hand from under his and slid out of the booth, making a mad dash for the door. You didn’t slow down until you were back in your room, and that’s when you let the tears fall. The alcohol in your system wouldn’t allow for you to put this into any kind of perspective tonight, you knew that, so you resolved to just let yourself cry it out and go to bed. 

Stripping off your dress and getting into your pajamas was a herculean task, but you managed it. Just as you crawled into bed, you heard a knock at your door. 

“Sweetheart?” Poe’s muffled voice came from the other side. “Please let me in.” 

You sighed and shuffled over, punching in the door code to see Poe on the other side, looking like he’d aged ten years in the last fifteen minutes. He came in when you stepped aside. 

“I’m stupid, okay?” he declared, whipping around to face you when you closed the door and leaned against it. “What I said back there, it…I’m just…”

“Scared?” you supplied. He nodded, adam’s apple bobbing when he swallowed. You giggled at his response. “Poe Dameron, hero of the Resistance, ace pilot and bane of the First Order is afraid of little old me?” 

Maybe you were still a little drunk. 

But Poe’s incredulous laugh was worth it. You smiled at each other, moving toward each other like there was some gravitational pull between you. 

“Yeah, starshine,” he said lowly, “I’m terrified of you.”

His hands landed on your waist and yours sought out the warmth of his broad chest, neither of you looking away from the other. You didn’t stop, leaning up on your toes as he leaned down. Your lips met in the middle, and fireworks exploded behind your eyes. Heat flooded you when he deepened the kiss, his strong hand resting on the side of your neck and his thumb tracing along your jaw. 

When the two of you came up for air, he rested his forehead against yours. Breaths mingling, he asked. 

“Will you have dinner with me tomorrow night?” he breathed out and you couldn’t resist teasing him. 

“I’ll think about it.”

[runnning-outof-time]

Congratulations K 🎊

So for the 3 word sentence

“Are you jealous?”

With any Shelby brother of your choice

Thanks so much for sending this in, Juli!! I chose to write it for Arthur because I actually got this prompt for both John and Tommy also - it’s going to be fun to try and think up different scenarios for them…so if you didn’t like the direction I went here, there are the other two brothers coming! Enjoy! :)

PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!

Part of my 3.5k Celebration — find more stories here!

What A Chain of Events

Arthur Shelby x Reader

Warnings: language, drinking

Word Count: 985

Summary: Dancing at the Garrison turns into arguing at the Garrison, which then turns into…feelings being confessed?

(Y/N) didn’t know the name of the man that was currently spinning her around the floor of the Garrison, but she wasn’t letting that stop her from having the time of her life.

She loved when the energy would be high like this; when the patrons of the establishment would drink and dance and be merry. Events like this seemed to be occurring more frequently ever since Tommy assumed his duties in Parliament…not that she was complaining.

As she was being spun around on the floor, Arthur was sitting in the corner booth, sulking. Finn was sitting by him, but the brothers were paying no attention to each other. Instead, Arthur had his eyes fixed on the dancers, one in particular.

(Y/N), a longtime friend of the Shelby family, was smiling and holding on tight to the man who had swooped her away from the table she was at and, for some reason, Arthur hated it.

Deciding he had had too much, he grabbed the bottle of booze from the table, forgoing the cup and bringing it right to his lips to take a large drink. His eyes rolled to the ceiling as he tried to look anywhere but at the dancers.

But his eyes just couldn’t stray away for too long. They returned at the worst time possible. Just as the song was finishing, (Y/N) pulled the man she’d been dancing with into a hug.

Now he really had had enough. After one more swig of alcohol, he got out of the booth and made a b-line for the snug. A huffed breath left his lips once he was behind the closed door.

(Y/N) sent one last smile to the man she’d been dancing with before they parted ways. Immediately she searched for Arthur. His usual spot was now empty, which confused (Y/N) because he’d been sitting there only a few moments ago. He wasn’t behind the bar either, which meant that there was only one other, plausible place remaining: the snug.

That’s exactly where she found him; sitting with a scowl on his face as he stared at the table. The energy he was throwing off made her brows furrow. “Arthur?” she said his name hesitantly. “Has something happened?”

“No,” his answer was abrupt as he shook his head.

“Why’re you in here then?” she asked another question.

“Does it matter?” he countered with a question of his own, his one eyebrow raised as he shifted his gaze to her.

“Yes, it does,” she answered with an exaggerated nod, her eyes widening. “I was looking for you.”

“Oh?” Arthur sounded surprised, “I thought you’d be too busy with your dancing partner.”

(Y/N)’s brows furrowed at his statement. “What do you mean my dancing partner?”

“The man who’s been spinning you around the bloody floor all evening,” he clarified.

“It was only for two songs, Arthur,” she corrected him.

“Two songs too many,” he mumbled, but she heard him.

His words made her drop her hands to her hips as she got to work on putting the pieces together. She’d never really seen him act like this, and the chain of events that just occurred was really stumping her. Until a lightbulb went off. “Are you jealous?” she just had to ask.

“What?” his question came out as a snort, and he hoped that his facial expression didn’t betray him. “Why would I be jealous, huh?”

(Y/N) bit on her cheek to conceal her smile. “Well I asked because I thought that maybe you were upset by that man getting me to dance with him,” she explained her reasoning.

“I was upset by it,” he answered in a matter of fact tone.

“So you were jealous of him…?” she trailed off, her eyebrow raising.

“Jealous? No. I just know that you can find far better men to dance with, (Y/N),” he defended his thought process.

“Like you?” she suggested.

“Like me,” he affirmed without second thought.

The smile spread across (Y/N)’s lips at his response. Silence hung in the air for a few moments as she let him keep the upperhand for just a bit longer. “You’re jealous, Arthur,” she then delivered the blow.

“Fuck, alright, so what if I’m jealous, huh?” he conceded dramatically, throwing his hands up in the air. “I couldn’t take watching him spinnin’ you around any longer and that’s why I came in here. Seein’ you with that man bothered me, (Y/N). It bothered me because it was him out there with you and not me.”

(Y/N) kept her eyes on him as she let his words seep into her mind. The fact that he felt that way about her made the butterflies in her stomach flutter uncontrollably. She bit her lip to stop the wide grin from forming on her face, hoping not to fully give her thoughts away.

Arthur’s heart hammered in his chest as he tried to gauge (Y/N)’s reaction. He’d been harboring those feelings towards her for too long now. It felt good to let them out, but at the same time he was worried that they’d be unrequited. He knew that the ball was in her court now though…he just had to wait for a response.

To his luck, it came sooner rather than later. “Why don’t you ask me to dance then?” she asked him, effectively returning the ball to his court.

He wasn’t going to miss his shot this time. He stood from the booth and made his way over to her, stopping in front of her before he asked his question: “will you dance with me, (Y/N)?” He accentuated his question by holding his hand out to her.

(Y/N) let the smile form full on his face this time, and she wasted no time in placing her hand in his. “Yes.”

Tagged: @the-anxious-youth @mystcldydrms @look-at-the-soul @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @shelbydelrey @theshelbyslimited @peakyswritings @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @stevie75 @dark-academia-slut @zablife @cillmequick @letal-y-poetica @depxiety @shelundeadxxxx @areyenotfondofmelobster @padfootdaredmetoo @crabat-the-queen @sebastianstangirl01 @everythingelseisextra @kmc1989 @papichulo120627 @brummiereader @adaydreamaway08 @kissforvoid @raincoffeeandfandoms @peakyltd @johannelis2302nely @just-a-blackhole @anotherblinder @christinasyellowflowers @insanitybyanothername @daisyblinder @wotcherpeak @call-sign-shark

MASTERLIST

[katuschka]

Usually Sexual

Josh Kiszka x male OC; a spontaneous little thing, inspired by "recent events" ;-)

2.3+ words This is a work of fiction, intended for adult readers, so if you're under 18, go find some other entertainment elsewhere. Warnings: oral sex, intense emotions and verbal fights, some violence if you squint, some voyeurism too, I guess. A few swear words here and there. Loud noises.

The song was haunting them for months. It started as a spontaneous jam at Jake’s house during one of their many after-dinner get-togethers. Later, they kept revisiting the theme on tour. There was just something to it. It felt like one of those tunes that had always been there in its own metaphysical existence, just hanging in the air, waiting for them to grab it and turn it into actual sound waves. It eventually evolved into a full-fledged composition and when Josh started humming to it and added his own melodic line on top, they thought it might be THE song: The song that you may manage to write just once in a lifetime, or never. Then, one evening in late January, Josh came to the studio with lyrics and it was then that they knew it was THE song. 

There was only one problem. Josh just couldn’t force himself to sing it the way he wanted to. It felt right when he wrote it. It sounded right when he was alone, sitting at his piano at home. But here, in front of the others, he felt completely naked. Bashful, even, which dumbfounded them all, but mostly himself. It was always either too forced, or insincere, or too timid. Unnatural. After six whole sessions filled with constant bickering, even Daniel was already losing his patience.

“I think that, maybeee, this is one of those cases when I should be alone in a soundbooth,” Josh said one day when it was increasingly obvious that their last session might end in a bloodbath. It was a legitimate suggestion, but they were already so used to recording the basics “live” to keep the sound natural and candid that his words just added more fuel to the fire. Danny just sighed, excused himself to take a leak and left the room. Sam opened another can of beer. Jake was livid. 

“Right Josh, but once we’re onstage, you won’t be able to crawl into a fucking soundbooth. What’s your plan? To sing it from your dressing room?”

They just didn’t get it. He was trying, really. But whenever he got to certain parts, certain words, certain notes, his throat constricted. He tried to explain it, multiple times, but even that fell flat, because how could he explain the meaning behind the words when he couldn’t open up about the feelings that inspired them. Only two people knew. One of them was not in the studio with them to support him, and the other one was seething, focused solely on the work they had to finish. At least Jake finally gave in and agreed to try it. 

Next day they played without Josh. They somehow managed to wrap up the instrumental part in just four hours. All it needed now was the closing guitar solo – already written – and, of course, the vocals. 

Josh arrived at the studio the next afternoon, outwardly calm and well rested, but still battling the same internal struggle. He holed up in the booth, put the headphones on, got ready, looked at the three faces behind the mixing console, and started singing. And it was a…disaster. Which subsequently led to a very loud and emotional verbal fight. 

“Just sing the fucking song, Josh! It’s not rocket science.” Jake really, really tried to stay calm and to stop himself from yelling, yet he failed miserably.

“Yeah, we don’t even know what the fuck it all means…,” Sam chimed in.

Jake cleared his throat, which made Sam roll his eyes in annoyance. Even now?

“...ok, so Jake here probably knows what it all means…”

“I do.”

“...’course you do, you fucker, but that’s not the point. Listen Josh, I understand that this is probably some kind of a confession or something, but could you just pull your head, or whatever else is there, out of your ass and…”

Sam knew he had crossed the line even before the bottle, previously resting in Josh’s hand, shattered against the wall right behind him,  just a few feet to his left. Josh stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him with a deafening blow. He didn’t return that day. Or the next. 

……………………

For several days, they barely spoke to one another. Then, one Tuesday night, during one of those early spring storms, Josh found himself sitting in an armchair in his dark, unlit room. Ha had spent the last two hours listening to the rain drumming on the tiles of his patio outside the sliding glass doors, trying to figure out what to do and how to find a solution to this “precarious situation”. No song was worth risking the relationship with his brothers. They had found themselves in similar situations many times before, but the current radio silence was a bit concerning. He knew what the song needed – the feral energy he hardly ever failed to muster onstage. See, Jake was wrong about this. He could imagine himself singing this song live just fine. This had somehow never been an issue in front of the audience. The untamed energy of thousands of adoring people often let him open to them, and to the world, with unaffected pleasure. He let them listen to him, to see him…to touch him…  And suddenly, he got an idea. 

……………………

Sam wasn’t sleeping yet, but seeing his brother’s name on a lit up phone screen annoyed the shit out of him all the same. 

“What?!” 

It was late, and he wasn’t in the mood to talk…to Josh, he certainly didn’t want to go out for a drink…with Josh, AND the very last thing he wanted was to talk about the fucking song again… so Josh’s suggestion that they should meet in the studio asap just made him see red. 

“Are you fucking kidding me? The studio’s not booked and everyone’s asleep. It’s nearly midnight, Josh!”

“Yeah…exactly, umm… That means the studio would be free and empty now, right? I’m sure it can be arranged. I think I got it, Sam! I…ummm, found a way to finish the fucking song. I need to try this one thing and I need your help. Pleeeease. And…I’m really sorry, Sam.” “Ok,” he sighed exasperatedly. Sam, too, was sick of the current situation, and if Josh thought that a night session with just the two of them, free of Jake’s scrutiny, would help, so be it. “I just need to make some phone calls. Meet you there in…90 minutes?”

“Perfect! Thank you.”

……………………

Eleven hours later

It was already almost noon when Jake and Daniel finally arrived with the coffee. Sam was still sitting behind the mixing console, having tried to add some more finishing touches to the mix before he felt it was ready to be presented to the other two. 

“So, what’s up? Why did you summon us here at this ungodly hour, oh ye little brother? You look like shit, by the way.” 

Jake was an ass, but he was right. Sam felt absolutely exhausted. He had spent the whole night at the studio, his eyes were bloodshot and his head was pounding. He had no energy to argue, he was hungry, and really just wanted to crawl in his bed and spend the next two days there. Maybe three. But he needed them to hear it first. 

“Well, I still need to work on this a bit, and you will need to add the solo, obviously, but we managed to record all the vocal parts tonight and the raw mix already sounds pretty good. Sounds great, actually…even though the ending might be a bit…unconventional.” 

They both looked at him in disbelief, but accepted the offered seats and urged him to continue. “Ok, let’s hear it,” Jake breathed out as he leaned in his chair.

When they finished listening, Daniel looked like a parent that should be scolding a naughty kid, but couldn’t because he was just trying not to laugh. Jake’s expression was unreadable. After at least thirty more seconds of complete silence, he finally spoke, his voice unnaturally calm, which only meant the storm was coming.

“And what the flying fuck was that?!?”

“Well, I think it was Josh sounding like…,” Daniel piped in, his voice muffled by his own hand. 

“I know fucking well what it sounded like! He’s my twin AND we lived together. No…no…nonono.” Jake stood up and was now pacing the room. 

Sam expected this kind of reaction. He was ready for it and he was also desperate to defend what they just heard. Because, above all, it was great. It was what they wanted…

“No, Sam, I didn’t want this. We cannot possibly release this. How did you even…? Was he jerking off in that booth or what?”

“Um, no, Thomas was here, too…”

Daniel spit out his coffee, barely missing the console, and Jake …Jake just had to sit down again. As soon as Danny stopped coughing, he looked at Sam, bit his lip and burst into uncontrollable fits of laughter. “Oh my god…but…I agree with you Sam. It sounds fucking great,” he wheezed out, eyes still filled with tears. 

……………………

Nine hours earlier 

When Sam arrived at the studio, Josh…and Tom … were already there. It took them a little while to convince Sam not to turn on his heel and run back home after they had explained what they intended to do, but now they were all good and ready in their respective workplaces; Sam sat behind the mixing table, Josh and Tom crammed together in the small vocal booth, both already shirtless. 

“So, what do you want me to do?” Tom asked as he positioned himself right behind Josh. He felt a bit unsure still, but was willing to try his best. 

“You know the song, you know it’s yours. I am your instrument now. Play me.”

And he did. Sam dimmed the lights and told them to get ready. Josh was supposed to sing the whole song all in one take. They would try again if necessary, but this was the general idea. No pauses. Tom got his own set of headphones and as soon as they heard the initial chords, he hugged Josh’s bare torso, letting his hands roam free, caressing him gently. And Josh started singing. And it was beautiful. When the initial awkwardness subsided, Tom leaned into his role completely and started placing subtle kisses on his lover’s neck, which Josh translated into even more haunting sounds. 

When he was about to hit one particularly difficult high note, Tom grabbed him by the elbows, pulled his arms up and slowly ran his palms up Josh’s forearms until he reached the wrists, crossed them and held them tight, high above their heads. He circled his fingers around Josh’s pulse points, while Josh wailed into the microphone, his face contorted with all the intense emotions that he hid in the words he wrote. Now he finally let it all out. It was exhilarating. Twenty feet farther, separated from them by two walls, Sam punched the air in silent victory. 

The very first take was already more than good, but they tried three more times – just in case – Josh and Tom doing their intimate little dance within the confines of the small soundbooth. 

“Ok, I think we’re good, that was really wonderful, Josh…but, time to wrap it up,” Sam’s voice finally pierced through the intercom. 

Josh wasn’t so sure. True, it was almost three in the morning and they were all already beyond tired, but this was worth a shot. He might not have another opportunity like this and if it didn’t work, they could still use one of the previous takes. They were satisfactory, yes, but even though he finally managed to convey the contents of his mind with his voice, this song was a matter of the heart…and – let’s be completely honest – cock. He needed more stimulation. 

“Hey, Sam, do you think we could try the last chorus one more time?”

“Just the last chorus?” 

“Yeah”

“Ok, just let me go grab some munchies first. Be right back.” 

Tom was leaning against the booth wall with his arms crossed, watching Josh apprehensively. He yawned and tried a few neck circles to relieve his tense muscles. “So what’s your plan now?” 

Josh didn’t meet his gaze at first. He was looking at nothing in particular, toying with his goatee like he always did when he was deep in thought. When he finally looked at him, he spoke in a whisper, but it was a demand nevertheless. “I want you to suck my dick.” Tom’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. “Josh, you can’t be serious. Sam’s here, and….your voice will shake. What’s the point?” 

“That’s exactly the point, Thomas. And Sam won’t be able to see you. Now come here, get ready,” he ordered as he pulled down his zipper.

By the time Samuel got back, Tom was already on his knees, crammed in a tight space between the front wall and Josh’s microphone, his hands clawing at Josh’s thighs and his mouth full. Josh was taking long, deep breaths, trying to be in control of the situation as they heard Sam’s voice through the intercom again. “Ok, Josh, I’m not playing the whole song again. We’re starting at 4:37. Ready?” “Yeah, ready, just leave it rolling till the end,” he breathed out. 

This was a new and exciting experience, and when he finished the last chorus and the bridge leading to the closing guitar solo part started playing, he could no longer control himself. Josh’s short, high pitched breathy moans filled the air during the bridge part and when they finally got to the rhythmic piano segment that served as a foundation for Jake’s – yet to be recorded – finishing solo and outro, he let out a long and melodic warcry and filled  Tom’s mouth with his warm seed. As requested, Sam was still recording.

……………………

@its-interesting-van-kleep @fleet-of-fiction @thewritingbeforesunrise @jakekiszkasbuttsweat @takenbythemadness @edgingthedarkness @writingcold @lvnterninthenight

[cherrycola27]

afterglow

Series Warnings: Language, alcohol and drinking. Military inaccuracies. Allusions to and eventual smut. Friends to lovers. Mutual pining. Unrequited love. Minors DNI. 18+. Banner Credit: @thedroneranger

Masterlist Previous Part Next Part

...........................................

Chapter 5: Don't Walk Away

Jake knew that his time with you was coming to an end. He couldn't believe that you were seriously leaving. Be couldn't stomach the idea of you flying with someone else.

Since you were going back to Lemoore, Cyclone had decided to make him a single seat pilot like he was during the uranium plant mission. God, that fucking mission. If he could go back in time, maybe he wouldn't have flown it. Maybe he would have fought harder for you to go with him. That was the beginning of his downfall with you.

Jake couldn't believe how stupid he was. He had you in the palm of his hand, and now he was watching you slip through his fingers like sand in an hourglass. You were leaving in two weeks, and you hadn't spoken to him since the night he confessed his feelings for you.

It broke his heart when you told him that jt was too little too late. That you had been waiting for him to say that for almost two years. How could he have been so blind? Because he only cared about himself, that's how.

Jake had taken you for granted, and he could see that now. He'd always expected you to be there for him, and now that you weren't, his world was falling apart.

This week, he was finally cleared to fly. You had opted to stay on desk duty until you left.

He climbed in the cockpit and went through all of his preflight checks, but before he could take off, he had a panic attack and jumped out of his jet, and became physically sick all over the tarmac.

Everyone had asked him if he was okay, but how was he supposed to tell them that the thought of you not being in the plane with him made him feel like an elephant was sitting on his chest and made his vision go blurry. The rest of the team watched him spend the entire week trying to get up in the air, but it all ended the same way. Right before takeoff, the anxiety with set it, he would jump out, puke, and run into the locker room like clockwork.

By the time Thursday rolled around, everyone was in a good mood because you'd all been given a three day weekend. Tonight, the Daggers were throwing you a going away party at the Hard Deck. They wanted one last chance to celebrate with you before you left them next Friday.

Penny had agreed to close the bar down, but it still seemed like all of North Island was there. Well, almost everyone.

You sat in a tucked away corner booth and fiddled with the straw in your drink. You'd been watching the door all night, willing him to come.

"Glow, why is the guest of honor sitting alone looking all sad?" Rooster said as he slid in the booth next to you.

"I'm fine, Roo, honest." You told him.

"He'll be here. He may be a gigantic asshole, but Hangman cares too much about you not to come. He's been a mess all week. Couldn't even get his plane in the air." Rooster told you.

"What?" You asked him. You had been trapped in an office and hadn't heard anything.

"Jake would go through all of his preflight stuff, get cleared to taxi, and then he'd freak out, jump out of the cockpit, get sick, and run away. I asked him about it yesterday and he said he couldn't fly without you." Rooster told you as he sipped his beer.

"He sure didn't feel that way when they offered him the uranium plant mission." You grumbled under your breath.

"No one ever accused him of being smart." Rooster shrugged. You chuckled and smiled for the first time that night. Just then, the bell above the door chimed. Your eyes shot over to it, and there he was. Jake Seresin in all of his glory.

But he didn't look like his usual self. His hair wasn't neatly styled, dark bags had made a home under his eyes, and he didn't have his usual glow about him. Rooster quickly got up to leave, and Jake spotted you across the room.

He walked over to you and you noticed he had something tucked under his arm.

"Hi." He breathed out as he approached you.

"Hi." You replied.

"Glow, can—can we please talk. Privately?" He asked you. You sighed and nodded. You made your way through the crowd to the back deck. When you pushed through the doors, the noise of the party faded and was replaced with the sweet sounds of the ocean. You leaned against the railing, admiring the rays of the setting sun.

You turned to face Jake. He paced nervously across the old wood.

"I—I have something for you." He stammered as he shoved the box he'd been carrying in your hands. You untied the ribbon and lifted off the lid. You gasped when you saw the contents of it.

"Jake—you can't be serious." You met his eyes. "I am." He replied as he swallowed thickly.

You looked back down at the box. Inside where his wings. The ones he'd worn every day since his father pinned them on him, and his discharge papers, dated three months from now, when his contract was up.

"Jake, I thought you said you were going to spend your thirty years or more and then retire. What happened to that? What happened to becoming Admiral Seresin? Wasn't that your plan, your dream?" You ask him, still not believing what is in front of you.

"I haven't been able to fly for a week without you with me. You really think I can go another twenty years? I can barely go twenty seconds without thinking about you!" Jake exclaimed.

"If you're not flying with me. I don't want to fly anymore." Jake breathed out.

"You didn't seem to feel that way when you first came here." You argue back.

"I know. I was so stupid. I was so desperate to make a name for myself. To prove myself—that I— I forgot that it wasn't all about me. My biggest regret right now is not fighting harder to get you on that mission with me. If I could go back in time and do it all over, I would. I would choose you. I would choose us." Jake admits to you.

Your breath catches in your throat. "Jake—"

"I'm not done." He cuts you off. "You have been the best thing in my life. You have always been there for me. You have my six in the sky and on the ground. You're my constant, my anchor. I am a better person because of you. I know I can't take back all those hurtful things I said and did. But I can spend the rest of my life making up for them and proving to you how much I love you. Because fuck, Y/N, I love you so goddamm much it hurts." Jake declares with tears in his eyes.

"Jake—" You begin, fighting your own tears.

"I would do anything for you. To prove to you how sorry I am, even if that means hanging up my wings." Jake breaths out.

You don't know how to respond. You stand there looking at him, holding his wings in your hands, and you finally let the tears fall.

In this moment, you realize how serious he is. You can see his hard exterior cracking. You've never seen him be so vulnerable.

When you meet his eyes, it isn't the cocky Hangman standing across from you. It's Jake, your Jake.

The one who took care of you when you were sick. The one who always saved you a seat in flight school. The one who punched an ensign for grabbing your ass.

It's the Jake who watches rom-coms with you and was more concerned about your well-being than his when the two of you had to eject during a training exercise. You remember how scared he was then, and you can see that same look on his face now.

You open your mouth to speak, but Jake rushes across the deck to you and cups your face in his hands and kisses you. It's warm, and it's soft, and it feels like home.

"Please, Y/N, please don't go. I need you. And I promise if you stay, I'll never leave you again." He whispers as he presses his forehead to yours.

"Okay." You choked out. Sobs still catching in your throat.

"Okay?" He asks.

"I'll stay. I wasn't going to say anything until after the party, but, I retracted my transfer." You confess to him.

"Wh—why?" Jake stutters out.

"Because leaving wasn't going to solve anything. Believe me, I think we've both learned that lesson." You tell him. Jake gives a knowing smirk.

"And the idea of not being around you hurt more than being around you. We are a team, through the good and the bad. I couldn't walk away from you—from us. We have something, Jake, and I don't want to lose it." You tell him.

"I don't want to lose it either. I don't want to lose you, Glow." Jake tells you. "Tell me you're still mine. That we can move on from this." Jake pleads with you.

"I'm willing to try if you are. But I need you to tell me that I'm all you want. That I'm enough for you." You say to him.

"You're more than enough for me. You're all I want." Jake tells you earnestly.

"Now, can I take you home? And I promise I'll still be there in the morning." Jake asks.

"Yeah, let's get out of here." You grab his hand as the two of you jump off the back deck and sprint to his car, giggling like idiots.

I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter as much as I did! I'm thinking there is going to be about two parts left (and possibly) and epilouge for this story!

Taglist: @thedroneranger @roosterscock @shanimallina87 @desert-fern @teacupsandtopgun @mayhemmanaged @lovinglyeternal @lovingbradshawafterdark @wkndwlff @roosterforme @daggerspare-standingby @dakotakazansky @startrekfangirl2233 @hecate-steps-on-me @cassiemitchell @na-ta-sh-aa @milestellerlover @katieshook02 @mak-32 @je-suis-prest-rachel @soulmates8 @ohgodnotagainn @diorrfairy @eli2447 @xoxabs88xox @potato-girl99981 @djs8891 @roosterbruiser @roosters-girl @sebsxphia @rosiahills22 @dempy @olliepig @seresinsweetie @linkpk88 @my-obsession-spn @eternalsams @callsign-magnolia @alchemxx @stargazer-88 @clancycucumber230

[anthrofreshtodeath]

untitled drabble

clearly I’m still thinking about Jane and being bad.

—-

Jane lumbered out of the confessional booth in St. Joseph’s, her boots heavy against the well-worn tile as the wood of the seat creaked beneath her. Everything about the moment was so damn old, including her, she thought. She refused to think about the physical aches and pains that came with her exit because Maura had a concussion - a fucking brain bleed - and Nina had just gotten out of surgery, but she couldn’t block out that ancient catholic guilt, belonging to the generations of parishioners here before her and settling on her shoulders now.

Not her guilt - to be quite fair. No, she felt something far older, something that tingled in her fingers, dragging them to the holster on her hip. Perhaps that feeling was catholic, too. But the absence of guilt told her that here was where she needed to be. 

Told her she might be too far gone, and so she’d better get her ass to church, because she’d felt this way before, and it’d caused her to do some stupid things.

And forty years of guilt other people told her to feel, it aged her. If not in body, in spirit. How many times had the tang of vengeance singed the back of her tongue, only to be cut down by the icy deluge of admonishment? How many times had she been told that she felt too much, too often?

Now the tang was all she could taste, and the best she could do was stand before God ahead of time. Because like she told the priest, she hadn’t been to confession in years, and there was a lot to confess, but perhaps her grandest sin was standing in defiance of regret.

Not for what she planned to do now, anyway.

She marched right past the pews on her way out the heavy double doors, only breathing in when that chilly fall air settled on her face.

It’s not what I’ve done - it’s what I’m going to do.

She’d left an important part out. And that I might not make it to the other side of this. 

That, however, was a sin for another confessor, and Jane, craving nothing more than the Newports she used to chain smoke in junior college, prepared herself for more penance on her way to her car. 

Beacon Hill had been aptly named, because it called her. 

She released herself into the driver’s seat of the unmarked with a thud. When she closed her eyes for a bit of peace, to quiet the raging of all those thoughts before she turned the key in the ignition, she exhaled. Loud, unsteady. 

God she needed sleep.

But first, she needed to get to Maura.

So, she buckled up, blinked herself into wakefulness, helped by the light of the moon, and drove west to Beacon Hill from the North End. 

She’d made the trip a thousand times over the last five years; she barely needed eyes on the road. She used most of the time to think of what to say, or rather how to say it. She thought she’d just about got it right when she pulled up on Pinckney street, but it left her when she shuffled through the courtyard and turned her key in the lock.

Maura was standing there, back to Jane when Jane entered, still in the day’s black blouse and pink trousers. Still with the butterfly bandage on her head, in front of a sink with dinner’s dishes still soaking inside. Maura herself stared out the window, gripping the lip of the counter.

“H-hey,” was all that Jane could muster. She closed the door with respect, the latch clicking softly. The warm light of Maura’s front room caressed her, such a sumptuous affront to the dimness of St. Joseph’s. It almost burned away the murder in her. 

Almost.

“Hi,” Maura answered, but she never turned. “Where have you been? Your mother’s been looking for you.”

“I… hmm,” Jane did not expect the emotion that stifled her. She pushed through. “I went to church.”

“To church? What for?” Maura began to scrub.

“Confession,” said Jane when she brought herself over to the granite counter. She placed each hand on it, key ring still looped on her index finger, teeth biting into her palm as she pressed. She licked her lips - that is how the moment should feel, yes. Again, penance. The discomfort met the mood.

“Oh,” Maura acknowledged. There was a beat, like she would be too defeated by her own pain to ask about Jane’s. But then she cleared her throat. “Am I allowed to ask what you confessed?” It was quiet, timid.

And Jane hung her head.

Where was her Maura who, at the start of those five years, had winked at her and asked did you have a lot to confess to? Who had put sex into every syllable of that question? Sex and unequivocal joy? 

This Maura, run ragged by circumstance, by the violence in Jane’s orbit, barely allowed herself space in Jane. 

And that angered this Jane, hollowed out and filled up with nothing but rage and the animalistic fear of losing whatever iteration of Maura she could get.

She walked over to the sink, dropped her keys in her pocket, and put her face to the crown of Maura’s hurting head. It still smelled like flowers and fruit. “You’re allowed to ask things of me,” Jane whispered. She hoped Maura felt it like Jane felt strands of hair against her wet lips. The walls fell. “You’re allowed to demand things of me.”

Maura stiffened. There were long moments where she only tightened her grip on the counter and Jane only froze in place. But then. Then. “Tell me what you confessed.”

“That I wasn’t, hmm,” Jane found herself struggling to find the right words in light of Maura seizing her opportunity. “That I’m gonna-“

“That you’re going to kill Alice Sands,” Maura said.

“No,” Jane replied.

“Then tell me,” Maura ordered.

Jane’s old, tired heart thrilled. It beat faster, sending another impulse to her fingers. This time, she obeyed, wrapping them in Maura’s hair and tugging. 

Maura hissed when she went back, but Jane knew.

Jane knew that it wasn’t from pain. She moved her lips to Maura’s temple. “I’m gonna feel no regret when I put a bullet in her head,” she murmured. “I confessed that I’m gonna kill her and I’m gonna enjoy it. But there was somethin’ I left out.”

“Don’t make that mistake twice,” Maura turned her head so that her mouth danced on Jane’s as she spoke.

“Wasn’t a mistake,” Jane returned the favor. “I was savin’ it for you: I might have to give myself up to get that. To end her. But it’s a price I’d pay every time.”

Maura’s gaze narrowed, and Jane’s grip loosened, but they stayed close. And when Jane’s fingers, still in her hair, settled on the nape of her neck, she uttered one last command. “Well, make sure you don’t have to. Because I’m not god. I won’t forgive you if you do.”

And Jane, reinvigorated, nodded. 

[oldiesstationlover11607]

*In SpongeBob’s voice* 🧽Hi. How are ya?🧽

The amount of joy that surged through my body when I saw that the sponge was yellow is indescribable. Anyways, hi. What up? It’s me 💛, back at it again with another request! You went above and beyond with the last Torchbearer story btw! Like, honestly, novel worthy in my eyes. It was so good and the ANGST!!! And I like the cliffhanger ending. Gives you places to go if you so choose, but also can keep it just as a one part story and the reader can sort of extrapolate what happens next.

So, I come to you with a new request. It’s Josh (Josh-Josh this time. Not one of his incredibly neglected lore characters. Have no fear). Idk if this is too similar to something else you have written (disregard if it is), but I was wondering if you could write a fluffy one shot about the first time Josh introduces the reader (his girlfriend) to Tyler and Tyler makes it his mission to bring up any embarrassing story about Josh that he can just to mess with him. Josh gets all flustered and stuff, but the reader loves it. Idk. I just feel like Tyler would do something like that.

Tease - Josh Dun x Reader

Relationship: Josh × Reader + Tyler!!

Warnings: none - fluff

Word Count: 1056

A/N: HOPE YOU LIKE THIS!! I'm using it for bandito battle bc I love how it shows off their friendship and it's nice a short!

Josh had been raving about Tyler since the day we met and for a while I thought they were dating. He thought it was a good idea to disregard the fact Tyler had been married for a year and describe him as ‘handsome, talented, and the coolest person he’d ever met’. It wasn’t until we hung out at a local park that he confessed he liked me. I admitted I thought he was gay–let’s just say that was a fun conversation. We’d been dating for about a month when he deemed me worthy of meeting his lord and savior Tyler Joseph. We’d agreed to meet at a diner close to our house–some fake 50s themed place which Josh claimed had the best milkshakes despite the fact I was severely lactose intolerant. Josh had been jittery all day about this meeting. I caught him pacing in the kitchen at least three times, mumbling things like, “What if he says something stupid?” and “Maybe I should cancel.” But I reassured him with every step, telling him Tyler was probably just as excited to meet me as I was to meet him. We walked into the diner, the bell above the door chiming, and there he was—Tyler Joseph in the flesh, sitting in a booth with his arm draped over the backrest like he owned the place. He glanced up from the menu, a smirk already forming when he saw us approaching.

“Josh! Dude, finally!” Tyler stood and gave Josh a bro hug, patting him on the back with a little too much force. Then he turned to me, his smile widening. “You must be the famous girlfriend.”

I laughed. “Famous, huh? He’s been talking me up?”

“Non-stop,” Tyler replied, sliding back into the booth. 

“I’m assuming he’s told you I thought you two were dating?” I chuckled.

“Yup,” he laughed, “But don’t worry, I’ve got some even more embarrassing stories about him.”

Josh groaned, sitting beside me. “Ty, please, not today.”

Tyler gave him a mischievous look. “Remember that time at the festival, Josh? You were supposed to hop on our tour bus, but you got on the wrong one and ended up at a completely different venue. Man, that was priceless. We didn't even know you were missing until you sent that frantic text from some random band’s bus.”

I giggled, looking at Josh, who was already turning red. “Seriously?”

“It wasn’t that bad…” Josh muttered, avoiding eye contact.

“Oh, yes it was. You should’ve seen the look on his face when he realized. And have you seen that video of him in a blonde wig? He made it with some old friends on iMovie.” Tyler leaned in conspiratorially, eyes gleaming. 

“He didn’t.” I burst out laughing at that. “A blonde wig? Really?”

Josh buried his face in his hands, clearly embarrassed but smiling underneath it all. “Tyler, you’re killing me here.”

Tyler just grinned wider. “Hey, she needs to know the full Josh Dun experience.” Then he shot me a wink. “Trust me, it’s worth it.”

I could feel Josh squirming beside me, half-laughing, half-pleading with Tyler to stop. But the teasing wasn’t over yet.

Tyler leaned back, tapping his chin as if deep in thought. “Oh! How could I forget? The YouTube Bible readings! Have you seen them?”

Josh groaned louder this time, his head falling back against the booth in defeat. “No, Tyler, don’t.”

“What?” Tyler asked, feigning innocence. “I think they’re inspirational. You looked so serious, man, like you were auditioning for a role in a biblical drama. And that shaky camera work? A true classic.”

Josh peeked at me through his fingers, his face practically glowing red. “I swear they were for a good cause.”

I laughed, patting his arm. “I bet they were. We’ll have to check those out on movie night.”

Tyler’s grin turned devilish as he added, “I’ll send you the links. Honestly, it’s prime content.”

Josh let out a loud, exaggerated sigh, trying to hide his smile behind his hand. “Why did I bring you here again?”

“Because I’m your best friend and you love me,” Tyler said, not missing a beat. He took a sip from his milkshake, watching us with amusement. “You know, you got yourself a good one here,” he continued, looking at me now. “Josh has been over the moon since you guys started dating.”

Josh looked up, his cheeks still a bit pink, but his expression softened. “Well, I’m pretty lucky too.”

Tyler made a gagging motion. “Ugh, gross. But sweet. I’ll allow it.” He glanced at me again, a playful glint in his eyes. “Just make sure you remind him every now and then that he’s a dork, okay?”

I grinned. “Oh, don��t worry. I think I’ve got that covered.”

Josh chuckled, finally relaxing a bit as he reached for my hand under the table. “Yeah, she definitely does.”

Tyler clapped his hands together dramatically. “Alright, now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, let’s order some food.”

The rest of the night was filled with more jokes, teasing, and stories—this time with Josh doing his fair share of dishing it back to Tyler. But even through the laughter and light-hearted banter, I could see how much they cared for each other. Tyler's endless teasing was more than just poking fun at Josh—it was a way of showing just how close they were, how deep their bond went.

As we left the diner, Josh laced his fingers with mine, a soft smile playing on his lips. “That wasn’t so bad, right?”

I squeezed his hand. “Not bad at all. Actually, I think I love you a little more now.”

Josh raised an eyebrow, his smile growing. “Because Tyler embarrassed me?”

“Exactly.”

He shook his head, laughing as we headed toward the car. “Great. Remind me never to let you two gang up on me again.”

“No promises,” I said with a grin.

Tyler called out behind us, “Next time, I’ll bring the blonde wig and we can make a part two to that movie!”

Josh groaned, but I could tell he was happy. And as we drove home, I knew I’d just witnessed something special—this crazy, hilarious, wonderful friendship between two guys who would always have each other’s backs, no matter how many embarrassing stories they dragged up along the way.

//

REQUESTS OPEN

Tags for bandito battle:

@banditobattlemotherfuckers @the-paladin-gay

[claudemblems]

Operation "Kiss the Girl" | Chapter 1: The First Date

Summary: With the help of Jade and Floyd, Ace and Deuce put the first step of their "Kiss the Girl" plan into motion. What better way to woo your true love than sharing a private candlelit dinner in the Mostro Lounge together?

Genre: Fem!Reader. Lots of pining. Fluff.

Notes: This is a long one at 2,891 words! I plan on writing at least two more parts after this, so stay tuned for them 💜

“Shrimpy’s in love with Azul?!”

The tweels stared slack-jawed at Ace and Deuce, wondering if this was some sort of prank they had the audacity to try to pull on them. Were they still angry about almost getting squeezed to death by Floyd during that whole contract debacle? Tsk, humans get so offended by everything. 

"She is!" Deuce exclaimed. "And the only way to turn her back to a human is to have Azul, her true love, kiss her within three days!"

"Hmm…" Jade tapped a finger against his chin. "Ace, Deuce, for your sakes, I hope you're telling us the complete truth. Otherwise, I'll have to use Shock the Heart on you."

"We swear, Jade-senpai!" Ace cried, slamming his hands on the table. "We didn't come all the way here to mess with you!"

"Please believe us. [Name] is in a dangerous situation right now because of our stupidity. We can't just leave her to stay a mermaid forever. We need your help."

In one last attempt to persuade the twins for help, Ace and Deuce got up from the booth and prostrated themselves on the floor of the Mostro Lounge. With their faces to the floor, both of them yelled simultaneously, "Please!"

The twins shared a look, debating if getting involved in such frivolous human affairs was worth their time. After several painstakingly long moments, they finally reached a consensus. 

"All right, we believe you, and we'll help you."

"Really?!"

"On one condition."

"Oh no," Ace groaned, earning a swift smack on the head from Deuce.

"There's no room for complaining! We promised to help [Name], so we have to see this through."

"Fine,” Ace sighed. “What's the condition?"

"That you'll help us help Azul confess his feelings to her."

"Sure! No problem! That will be easy—wait, confess his feelings?!"

"You haven't seen how Azul gives her those sickly sweet goo goo eyes?" Floyd sighed, rolling his eyes at the thought. "He's like a sea sponge that soaks up any kind of attention he gets from her."

"Wait a minute. So you're saying that their feelings are mutual?"

"It would seem so," Jade replied. "Ah, I do love a good story about sea-crossed lovers."

"Isn't it star-crossed...nevermind. Yes, we'll help you come up with a plan for him to confess to her!"

"Excellent. Go prepare [Name] for a romantic candlelit dinner tonight. We'll make sure Azul is dressed to impress."

"He's also gonna need some time to calm those nerves of his. He already turns into a tomato-faced mess when [Name] is mentioned~"

"Are you sure that you'll be able to convince him to have dinner with her?"

"Oh, don't worry," Jade answered, flashing a smile that showed off his sharp teeth. "We have our ways.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

Earlier That Day

“Professor, what’s that?”

“It's a seashell necklace imbued with the voices of shapeshifting sirens,” Crewel answered Ace, leaning down beside the bathtub you were soaking in and clasping the jewelry around your neck. “It will allow her to return to her human form for a short while.”

“Professor, you’re amazing!”

“Don’t start flattering me yet, puppies,” Crewel replied sharply, shooting the duo another one of his infamous terrifying glares. “It can only hold its power for a limited amount of time. You’ll know it’s running low when scales begin to resurface on her skin. When that happens, come find me. I’ll restore its magical properties with a vial of a siren’s song.”

“Yes, sir!”

“And don’t think your idiocy will go unpunished. I’ll go easier on you for being so willing to help out your friend, but once she’s back to normal, I’m going to whip you both into shape.”

“Y-Yes, sir!”

“Now, I’ll be taking my leave. I’ll leave her care in your hands. Do not make me regret it.”

“We won’t let anything happen to [Name]!” Deuce promised.

“You can count on us!” Ace added.

“Good. Then I’ll be on my way.”

The three of you watched as Crewel gathered his things and wordlessly strolled out of Ramshackle Dorm. The atmosphere turned heavy as the realization of the impossible mission you all needed to accomplish finally dawned on you. But not one for reveling in misery, Ace was there to lighten the mood.

“Well, it’s time to work on getting [Name] her little smooch with Azul!”

“Y-You don’t have to put it like that, Ace!” you cried, hiding your flushed face in your hands. 

“Aw, is someone embarrassed? Are you going to turn as red as the Little Mermaid’s hair when he puckers his lips for you?”

“Keep up your shenanigans and I’ll let Jade and Floyd make a seafood meal out of you.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

“Okay, I can do this. It’s no problem. I just have to act like myself. Don’t try too hard. Don’t fiddle with your tie. Don’t give yourself reasons to be nervous. This is perfectly fine. This is fine. I’m fine…NO, I’M NOT FINE AT ALL!!!”

Floyd cackled as Azul hid his face in his hands, the candlelight illuminating his flushed skin. “Aw, poor Azul’s heart isn’t prepared for his first date!”

“They grow up so fast,” Jade added, dabbing at his dry eyes with a handkerchief.

“Both of you, knock it off!” Azul cried, waving his hands in frustration. “You just dumped this on me out of nowhere! Who makes “date” plans for someone else, much less when it doesn’t even involve you?”

“If we left it to you, it would never happen.”

“You…You don’t know that!”

Jade and Floyd exchanged a look. 

“I think our boss here is in denial, Jade~”

“AM NOT!”

“You’re not helping your case, you know.”

“Ugh, just…leave me alone for a minute,” Azul pleaded, rubbing circles into his temples. “I need to compose myself before she gets here.”

And just as he finished speaking, a voice came echoing from the entrance of Mostro Lounge. 

“Jade-senpai, Floyd-senpai! [Name]’s here!”

“Well, that’s our cue,” Jade said, shooting a playful smile at an absolutely mortified Azul. “Floyd, let’s get some menus and lead [Name] to her seat.”

“Sure thing! Azul, you better be composed now~!”

The twins set off before he even had time to respond.

“Oh, Sevens,” Azul sighed, holding his head. “This isn’t going to go smoothly at all.” Why in Twisted Wonderland did he let the twins persuade him into doing this “date” nonsense in the first place? “It’ll be a great stress reliever.” “You deserve a break.” Yeah, right. Those two were planning something far more nefarious, and it frustrated Azul that he couldn’t figure out exactly what it was.

But all of his anger dissipated the moment his gaze fell on you.

His breath caught in his throat at the sight before him: you wore a beautiful light blue evening gown that draped over your shoulders, cascading onto the floor like ocean waves. Your hair was pinned up in an intricate hairstyle fixed in place with pearl-studded hair clips, and your makeup perfectly complemented your outfit’s ocean theme with varying shades of blue eyeshadow and coral-colored lipstick. And to tie the look together, your neck was adorned with a dazzling gold seashell necklace.

“Wow,” he breathed, too caught up in your beauty to hold back his awe. 

You flushed at his sincere reaction. “Is this too much? Vil and Rook insisted on doing my makeup for the occasion. They said it would be ‘good practice.’”

“It’s perfect,” Azul replied, offering you his hand. Though he was still feeling like a flustered mess on the inside, he would never allow himself to forget to treat you like a gentleman should. “Shall we?”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

To Azul’s surprise, the night was flying by, and his nervousness had completely vanished as if he'd never had it in the first place. Conversation with you was light and comfortable, but if he was being honest, he would have been perfectly content with just letting you talk the rest of the night away. He found your voice so soothing to listen to, and a part of him wondered if you’d managed to put him under some sort of a love spell. But he knew that you, of course, were a magicless human, and yet that only made Azul all the more entranced by you. 

“Thank you for having dinner with me, Azul,” you finally said, giving him a small smile.

“Of course,” Azul replied, wearing a smile of his own. “I should be thanking you as well. I would have asked you properly, but Jade and Floyd like to take matters into their own hands.”

“Just like Ace and Deuce. They seem to always make plans without asking for approval first.” You shook your head, laughing at the thought. “That’s what gets them into trouble all the time.”

“Yet here we are, enabling their behavior,” Azul sighed. “Still, I could never pass up an opportunity to be in your company. If I’m being honest…” A pink hue began to bloom on his porcelain cheeks, “you’re one of the few humans I feel like I can truly connect with. You know that I’m a reserved person, so trying to form friendships proves to be quite difficult for me. I’m out of my element when I’m not in the sea, which makes my attempts at fitting in even worse off. But with you…I forget about all of my shortcomings. I just enjoy being in your presence. So thank you, for all that you’ve done for me.”

Silence hung in the air for a few long moments before Azul’s face turned from a soft pink to a bright burning red. “I’m so sorry! I just started rambling and made everything awkward…Sevens, I don’t know what I’m even doing here—”

“Azul.”

Upon feeling the touch of your hand on his, he lifted his gaze to your face, and his heart skipped a beat at the sight of you wearing a warm smile. “I enjoy being in your company, too. I’ll always be here for you, whether you want to talk or get something off your chest. All you need to do is call my name and I’ll be there.”

“Oh,” he breathed, taken aback by your sincerity. “I mean, yes, thank you. You’re also welcome to come talk with me any time.”

“Good.”

The two of you finished up your dinner before your plates were taken away by Jade and Floyd (who wore suspicious grins on their faces, you noted). They returned with dessert for the last course, which you and Azul finished in a comfortable silence.

“Could I ask you something?” you asked after a while, fiddling with your hands in your lap. You’d been having so much fun on your “date” that you’d nearly forgotten you needed to win his affection. 

“Of course.”

“What do you think of the love story between the Little Mermaid and her prince?”

Azul’s eyes widened a fraction. “Hmm…I’ve never really thought about it. Why do you ask?”

“Just curious. I watched the movie again recently with Ace and Deuce, but both of them thought it was overrated. “Too much romance, not enough action.” Honestly, there’s a reason those two don’t get girls.” Sorry, Ace and Deuce. This is just a little bit of revenge for what you’ve gotten me into.

“Hah, those two are too scatter-brained to get it. The movie is a classic! Who watches it and doesn’t like the romance?”

“Are you perhaps…a hopeless romantic, Azul?” 

The tips of Azul’s ears turned a deep shade of red as he quickly shook his head. “N-No, I just don’t like seeing fools criticize good films!” He sighed, straightening his tie (something he seemed to do when he was nervous, you realized). “But if you’re asking for my opinion, I think the love story between the Little Mermaid and the Prince is beautiful. It’s endearing to watch the mermaid try to express her feelings through fleeting touches, gentle gazes, and bright smiles. And watching the Prince slowly begin to fall in love with her is so heart-warming. You can tell he loves her for who she is. His heart is matched perfectly with hers, and his affection for her is unconditional. He helped save her life, after all, just like she saved his.”

“They really are so sweet, aren’t they?” you replied with a dreamy sigh. You held your head in your hand, gazing up fondly at Azul as he rambled on again. The way his eyes lit up when he recounted the mermaid and prince’s romance was unmistakable. It was almost like he craved for the same thing in his own life, like he’d spent endless nights wondering what it might feel like if someone loved him like that.

Just who was he imagining in those scenarios, though, you wondered. No. You shook your head. Don’t get cold feet now. You’re looking too far into this. He’s just talking about the movie, is all. But still, part of you couldn’t help but question if there was a hint of truth in what you thought.

“And the film shows the importance of an equal give and take in relationships. This ensures fairness and a win-win situation for both parties, no matter what obstacles await them in the future.” He’s talking about contractual obligations again, isn’t he? You laughed to yourself. He never changes.

“But I do admire the Little Mermaid’s devotion to the one she loves. To give up her whole life as a mermaid means letting go of a lot, but she sees a brighter future with her prince. I think everyone deserves to find that special person, just as my mother found my step-father.” A small smile appeared on his face, no doubt recalling happy memories. “To be with someone who wants nothing more than to remain at your side…what more could you possibly ask for?”

It was then that he realized he’d begun to ramble on again. “Oh, I really don’t know when to quit, do I?’

Well, now’s the time to test the waters.

Carefully, you placed your hand on top of Azul’s, noting how his cheeks flushed at the action. “You deserve that happiness. I hope you find it.”

Instead of crawling back into his shell, Azul surprised you by smiling in return, gazing at you fondly. He mirrored your gesture by placing his other hand on top of yours and sincerely answering, “I hope you find it, too.”

Now it was your turn to blush. 

But further conversation with him would have to wait. The shell’s power had begun to dwindle, causing your bright mermaid scales to reappear on your skin.

Shoot. I need to come up with an excuse to leave, and fast.

And as if they could read your mind, Jade and Floyd quickly came to your rescue.

“Azul, don’t you think it’s time to wrap things up for the night? I’m sure [Name] is quite tired, and there’s a mountain of paperwork waiting for you in your office.”

“Oh! You’re right. It’s late, isn’t it?” Azul glanced down at his watch. “I’m sorry for keeping you so long.”

“It’s no problem,” you replied. “I had a great time. Thank you for having me.”

“You will always be welcome here. Come by whenever you’d like. Your food and drinks will be completely free of charge.”

The statement was so out of character that it left yours, Jade’s, and Floyd’s mouths agape. Azul never offered anything for free, not without some sort of catch. But it seemed that he was being genuine with his words. At least, that’s what you thought.

“Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Within moments, Ace and Deuce returned to your side, thanking the trio before leading you back to Ramshackle Dorm.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

Even long after you’d left the lounge, Azul was staring off into the distance in a daze. He couldn’t hide the happiness that enveloped him like ocean waves. He was caught in your current, a single man enraptured by the siren that was destined to take him down with her. But he would willingly go wherever you wanted him to, even if it meant risking everything just for your love.

Floyd broke into laughter at the lovestruck look on his boss’ face. “If you like Shrimpy that much, why don’tcha tell her? She’s been giving you goo goo eyes all night long, too!” 

“Ah, young love. It’s a beautiful thing,” Jade chimed in, smirking when Azul’s face turned a lobster red.

“You both are insufferable,” he huffed, stomping off to his room. He’d had enough of the tweels for one night. But even if he escaped their teasing within the confines of his four walls, that didn’t mean he’d managed to calm himself down at all.

Falling asleep proved difficult when all he could think about was you. 

And across the college grounds, the same could be said for you, too. 

You had the most wonderful night spent at Azul’s side, but time was already running out. You’d nearly forgotten the purpose of going there in the first place. You didn’t need to fall even more in love with him. He needed to fall in love with you.

But you still had time to make this all work. That’s what you reminded yourself before your eyes finally slid shut, your dreams filled with memories of your romantic night. 

One day had passed. You only had two more remaining. 

[writerwhowritesao3]

Disclaimer: I am not Catholic. Everything I know about Catholicism is from friends and internet searches. Let me know if I got anything egregiously wrong!

Every few weeks or so, Neil would decide that the family would be going to church on Sunday. 

Billy hates it. It isn’t even just the fact that mass is boring as shit and Billy doesn’t even believe in god. It’s the fact that his dad makes the decision for all of them—him, Susan, and Max—that they would be going. 

Susan was raised Catholic, but she doesn’t personally identify that way anymore. She hadn’t in a long time. And Billy knows, from snippets of conversations between Susan and her sister Deirdre that he overheard, that Susan fucking hates the Catholic Church. Even so, Susan had taken Max to church a few times before marrying Neil. Pretty much just for holidays though, and only for the community aspect of it all. To her credit, Susan always made sure that Max knew that the Bible was not to be taken literally and that most of the religion was bullshit. 

Neil was raised Catholic. His father had been Catholic. His mother, on the other hand, had been part of the Eastern Orthodox minority in Hungary. Neil’s father had forced her to convert to Catholicism when they got married even though he wasn’t a particularly religious man. He had also all but forced her to speak only English in their home. So. Neil had been raised in the Catholic faith and only learning bits and scraps of Hungarian. 

Anyway. 

The Hargrove-Mayfield family rolls into St. Vitus one Sunday. The night before, Billy had missed curfew and Neil hadn’t believed him when he said that he had been studying with Nancy and lost track of time. To be fair, that story had been a total, blatant lie. The truth was that Billy had been at Steve’s house getting railed on top of his pool table, but obviously Billy couldn’t tell his dad that.

The logical thing to do when you know your teenage son is lying to your face is to make your family go to church and make your son go to confession. At least according to the Neil Hargrove Guide to Parenthood.

Neil walks Billy to the little alcove where the confessional is to make sure he gets in line. 

“We’re sitting three rows from the back,” Neil says. “If you and Max behave yourselves, we can go to Waffle House after.”

The night before, Neil slammed Billy against a wall while he was demanding to know why he had missed his curfew. He probably would have beaten him, but he got distracted enough to snap out of his rage when Susan “accidentally” knocked a glass off of the counter. 

Billy knows that sometimes, rarely but still sometimes, his dad feels guilty about getting physical with him. Guilty enough that his dad tries to make up for it with things like buying a pint of Billy’s favorite flavor of ice cream at the supermarket or taking the family out to get breakfast after church. 

(Sometimes when his dad hurts him badly enough, he “makes up for it” by doing things like helping Billy pay for his car or taking the family to the animal shelter to adopt a dog)

Before Billy walks into the confessional, he watches Neil walk over to where Susan and Max are sitting. There have been times where his dad would stay in line with him, waiting for his own turn or just making sure that Billy actually went in.

He walks in the booth. It’s one of those that’s divided by a screen. When Billy had his first Communion, the confessions were done face-to-face. It had been awful having to tell a grown-up man—that he had to call “Father”—how he had pushed Lance Shepherd off the jungle gym at recess because he had put a wad of gum in his friend Amy’s hair. 

Billy kneels and makes the sign of the cross. 

“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned,” Billy says rolling his eyes. “It’s been, like, three months since my last confession. I think.”

“Unburden yourself.”

Billy blinks—he’s never heard a priest say “unburden yourself.” He’s only ever heard the standard “tell me your sins.” Billy recognizes the voice from the other side of the screen as Father Peter. There are two priests who preside over St. Vitus: Father Thomas, who’s old as fuck and rarely cracks a smile, and Father Peter, who is in his 40s and always greets people by their names.

“I let my friend cheat off my quiz in History class,” Billy begins. in his defense, it was a pop quiz and Jonathan’s grade in that class needed all the help it could get.

“I picked a fight with my sister,” he continues. That little spat with Max had been so fucking stupid; it was over whose turn it was to clean the bathroom. The fight had only lasted about seven minutes and they had both gotten over it quickly. 

“I talked back to my parents...um...a fair amount,” he says. He stops speaking for a moment, wondering if he should just end his confession there to save everyone a whole bunch of time.

“Anything else?” Father Peter asks. 

This was stupid. Church was stupid. Confession was fucking stupid. Catholicism was a nasty, fucking system invented to make people feel bad about shit like having sex and being gay.

“Yeah actually,” Billy snarks. “I missed curfew last night and lied to my dad about where I was. I told him I was studying with my friend, but I was really having sex with my boyfriend. Pre-marital, gay sex. ‘Cause I’m gay.”

Billy has no idea what Father Peter’s response to that is going to be. In a million years, he never would have predicted that Father Peter would say: 

“Do you think that’s a sin?”

“I mean, isn’t it?” he asks, thrown off. “Like from a Catholic perspective?”

“Some people interpret Scripture that way,” Father Peter says. “But when you read the Bible, it’s important to consider the historical context. And important to remember that it’s been translated and revised many times over the centuries.”

“Do you think it’s a sin?” Billy asks. Even though he really couldn’t give a rat’s ass about what a priest thinks.

“No, I do not,” Father Peter says. “As long as it’s done with love and respect and not with malice, I don’t believe that any expression of sexuality is a sin.”

“Oh,” Billy says. “Um, cool.”

“God does not hate gay people, Billy,” Father Peter says softly. 

Billy digs his fingernails into his palm. He didn’t think that Father Peter would recognize his voice.

“For your penance—”

“Wait, you just said it wasn’t a sin.”

“The sex is not a sin,” Father Peter clarifies. “But helping your friend cheat on their test is. And so is disrespecting your family.”

“I guess.”

Billy swears he hears Father Peter chuckle at that.

“For your penance, say three Hail Marys,” Father Peter continues. “Help your parents out around the house. Do an activity with your sister that she chooses. And help your friend study so that they’re prepared for the next test.”

“Okay,” Billy nods. 

He listens as Father Peter intones a prayer of absolution and leaves the confessional to join his family in the pews. 

Nothing’s really changed. Billy still doesn’t believe in any sort of god. He still thinks religion is bogus. He’s only going to say those Hail Marys because his dad is there and the promised trade-off of Waffle House for good behavior is too good to pass up.

But he does make a mental note to share his class notes with Jonathan and study with him. And also to take Max to the arcade and maybe let her win a game or two.

[vizkopa]

Damned if you Do (Devil!Doflamingo x Reader) Part 1

Oops, my hand slipped >.> Warning for blood/gore, religious themes, strong language and LOTS of smut in future chapters!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part 1: City of Angels?

~

“Forgive me father for I have sinned,” you said, sliding into the confession booth at the Church of St Mjosgard. “It’s been about…” you checked your phone screen, “…three hours since my last confession.”

There came a sigh from behind the screen. “[Name], I’ve told you, you don’t have to say that every time.”

You smirked. “Would you prefer ‘sorry Daddy, I’ve been naughty’?”

Father Rosinante choked, which he elegantly turned into a cough. “No! No, that’s quite alright. How did it go?”

You sat back with a huff, folding your arms across your chest. “He didn’t know anything. Must have been a bad lead.”

“Are you sure?”

“I was very persuasive.”

“Spare me the details.”

You sighed. “I’m running out of time, Father.”

“I know. Have faith, [Name].”

“Easy for you to say, you’re a priest,” you muttered.

“I know things might seem hopeless, but we can’t give in yet. I’ll keep digging. In the meantime, you should go home and get some rest. It’s been a long day.”

“Yeah,” you said, though you hadn’t slept properly in nearly a decade. “Yeah, I’ll do that.”

You stood to leave and as you exited the booth, you felt Rosinante’s reassuring hand on your shoulder.

“I’ll keep praying for you.” He squeezed lightly and then dropped his hand.

“I appreciate the gesture, Father,” you said over your shoulder, “but God gave up on me a long time ago.”

It was raining when you left the church. You pulled your hood up over your head and shoved your hands deep into your pockets, shoulders hunched against the downpour as you hurried across the street. It was just your luck, you thought. The last few weeks of your life and it looked like it was going to rain the whole time. You had moved to LA to escape the cold and the wet (among other things), but just like said other things, it too had followed you across the country, it seemed.

As you made your way down the street, you got the distinct feeling you were being watched. Your fingers closed around the consecrated knife in your pocket, senses on high alert. From a dark alleyway somewhere ahead of you, two yellow eyes peered out of the darkness. You felt a small thrill of fear before you realised who it was and relaxed.

“Hello, Law,” you sighed.

A man stepped out of the shadows. Except he wasn’t a man—not really. His eyes, though grey now he was in full view, still held a glint of something unnatural, and his canines seemed longer and sharper than any human’s.

“Are you hungry?” you asked him.

He shook his head. “I have information.”

“Let’s hear it then.”

“I found him.”

Your heart quickened at those words, but Law seemed reluctant to say more. “Well?” you prompted, growing impatient.

“[Name]… I don’t think it’s a good idea to go after him.”

You frowned. “Why?”

Law hesitated. “He’s… dangerous. Incredibly so.”

“So, what, I should just wait for my timer to run out and skip on down to Hell without putting up a fight?”

“I’m not saying that. I just… He’s powerful, [Name]. Way more powerful than me or any demon you’ve encountered before. You can’t win.”

“How do you know that?” You folded your arms.

“Listen,” Law took a step closer. “I don’t know his name, but I do know he’s high up the ladder. Perhaps a Marquis or a Lord. Maybe even a Prince. You can’t beat him.”

You sighed. “Thanks for telling me. I’ll see you around, Law.”

“Wait!” He hesitated. “If you… if you still want to find him despite what I told you… There’s a demon called Bellamy. He frequents a demon bar called Corrida. He might know more. But be careful.”

“I know the place. I’ll check it out. Thanks.”

Law melted back into the darkness without another word, and you continued on your way through the rain, contemplating the newly acquired information. Having a demon informant was certainly useful.

Law was an incubus, a demon that fed on sexual energy. In exchange for inside information into the inner workings of Hell, you would keep him ‘fed’, so to speak. It was a mutually beneficial arrangement and nothing more. Rosinante had never approved of the arrangement, but even he had to admit, the incubus had been invaluable thus far.

It only took a few seconds to make your decision. Ignoring your promise to Rosi that you would go home and get some sleep, you changed direction, offering a silent apology to the Father, and going in search of the bar Law had mentioned.

The street was little more than an alley, tucked between a dilapidated office building and a crumbling warehouse. A few loiterers smoking beneath the eaves of a closed club across the street wolf whistled as you passed, but you ignored them. Mortal men were hardly a threat to you these days. Not when your very soul was on the line.

A few patrons looked up as you entered the dark tavern. You ignored them as you made your way to a seat at the bar, gathering more stares as you went. By the time you had sat down, every pair of eyes in the room were fixed on you. You ordered a shot of vodka, which the bartender slammed down in front of you, sloshing liquor over the sides of the glass. You winced as the burning liquid spilled down your throat but ordered a second shot all the same. A demon in the corner stood up.

“You’re not welcome here, Hunter,” he growled.

You held your hands up. “I’m not here to cause trouble. Just looking for a drink and some answers.”

“You’ve had your drink and you’ll get no answers. Leave.”

“Well, that’s rather rude,” you said with mock hurt. “I’m just looking for a guy by the name of Bellamy. Anyone know him?”

A second demon stood up. Horns curled outward from amongst blonde hair and a long, forked tongue lolled out from between pointed teeth. “What’s it to you, Princess? Getting tired of your incubus friend? Fixin’ for some real demon cock?”

The bar patrons chuckled.

You sighed. “Listen, I’ve had a long day of beating up your hellish buddies and I’m real tired. If you could just direct me to your boss, I’ll be happy to get out of your way.”

Bellamy stalked up to you. “So, it was you who killed Caesar today,” he growled. The bar fell silent, and you felt the wave of disbelief and rage that rolled over the crowd. “You made a mistake walking in here, little girl.”

You cursed under your breath, hand slipping into your pocket to close around your knife. You felt the movement of air behind you, and you whirled, knife swinging in a wide arc. The demon who had been sneaking up to grab you from behind reeled backward, his throat gaping and spurting black blood. He fell to the ground and moved no more. There was silence for a beat, before all hell broke loose.

Ragged claws raked at your arm, tearing your sleeve to ribbons and you retaliated with a stab through the offending demon’s eye. You wrenched it out just in time to duck beneath another blow aimed at your head and lunged upwards, feeling the knife sink deep into the space between two ribs and the imminent weight of a body as it grew slack against you. Hot, black ichor poured over your hands and the knife slipped from your hold as the demon went down. You lunged after it, just narrowly avoiding yet another swipe of dagger-sharp claws from a third attacker.

Swearing like a sailor, you retrieved the knife and straightened to find yourself backed against the bar, a wall of bloodthirsty demons between you and the door. Bellamy had slunk away somewhere through the crowd, content to let the lesser demons do his dirty work. Well, there went your one and only lead.

“Enough.”

Though it wasn’t a shout, the word seemed to cut through the chaos like a blade, stilling everyone in their tracks. The dim gloom of the tavern was suddenly cleaved by a shaft of daylight, motes of dust dancing in the air. Some of the demons hissed and shrank away from the light.

A man stood in the doorway. Except that you knew as soon as you laid eyes on him that he was no ordinary man. An oppressive aura seemed to worm its way into the bar, seizing your heart with a cold fear that rendered you motionless. The demons around you all sank to their knees and bowed their horned heads in submission.

He stepped forward and without the halo of light from outside, you could finally see his face. He was beautiful—it was the only way you describe him. High cheekbones, a chiseled jaw, flawless tanned skin. His eyes were hidden behind a pair of white-rimmed sunglasses, but you could tell they were fixed on you. He grinned.

“I was wondering when we would finally meet, my dear,” he purred. An involuntary shudder ran through you and you held the blood-stained knife a little higher.

He stepped forward, the demons parting for him, until there was barely a foot of space between you. He was so tall, you had to crane your neck to look up into his face. His unnerving grin never faltered as he said: “kneel.”

You felt your body obey his command as if you were just a puppet and he your master. You sank to the floor at his feet, every muscle in your body tense as you tried to fight for control, but it was futile. The knife clattered to the floor as your fingers grew numb and heavy. The man reached out and cradled your chin in one large hand. His touch was like fire. You were sure he could see the fear in your eyes.

“You will make a fine Queen,” he said.

Finally, you were able to exercise enough control over your own body to wrench your face out of his hold.

“What?”

“I’ve been watching you a long time. So determined, so driven. Just what I need in a ruler to stand at my side.”

“Go fuck yourself,” you hissed.

He grinned. “There’s that fighting spirit I can’t wait to break.” He smoothed a hand over your hair, tucking the strands behind one ear. You cringed away from his touch. “You resist me now, but it won’t be long before you seek me out. I know your very soul, what you desire more than anything else in this world.”

“The only thing I want is to kill you.”

The demon king chuckled and a few of the demons in the room snickered along with him. You bared your teeth at them, but it was an empty threat. That all-encompassing power still held you tightly in its fist.

“My, my, what a temper. Will you hurt me, [Name]? Torture me like you tortured my underlings while they begged for death? Or will it be quick and clean so you can get back to your incubus whore?”

You could feel your pulse throbbing in your temples, muscles and tendons straining as you raged against your invisible bonds. Words would not come to you.

“I look forward to finding out.” He bent and pressed a lingering kiss to your cheek, your skin burning at the touch of his lips. “I’ll be waiting, my Queen.”

With that he was gone, and the invisible weight lifted from your limbs. You snatched up your knife and staggered to your feet and were out the door before any of the demons could react. As soon as you were outside, you vomited into the gutter.

It was him. The demon you’d been hunting all this time. The demon who held your contract.

Shuddering and heaving, you straightened, rain and bile and demon blood dripping off you onto the street, and you sprinted all the way home.