#ya know funny pew pew

[violentkeysmashing]

Heee hoo

Got an Airsoft game with work coming up so I've been messing with my gear.

I'll run my kit below

So I'll be running a renter gun for my game coming up since I dont have enough mags for gun (shown above)

Running a Snow-wolf AUG A2 (only have one high cap mag so not playing a game with that) Theta optics red dot + Acog scope, ordered a new foregrip for her since I snapped my fucken old foregrip clean off it's fixture, pain. I've bough some proper rated goggles now and just

So much better than the AliExpress shit I was running, honestly idk why I went cheap to begin with this stuff is so so so much better.

I will probably get some solid plates or a better chest rig at some point, but for now imma run this, may need to score a molle style bag for funsies (in-game snacks)

Hyped for the game coming up, skirmish on an open field event, may want to get some boots after this but I'll do the "how's trainers sound?" method again.

Tho I'm mostly hyped to be able to shoot my supervisor since it's a work event.

Uhhhh that's it for now idk??

Just schitzo rambling atm

[spurbleu]

rendezvous

ch.1 mother’s advice

[ johnny ‘soap’ mactavish x f!stripper!reader ]

▅︎▅︎▅︎▅︎▅︎▅︎▅︎▅︎▅︎▅︎▅︎▅︎▅︎▅︎▅︎▅︎▅︎▅︎▅︎▅︎▅︎▅︎

S. mother left you with very little aside from her cat, calloused advice, and a legacy at your local brothel.

warnings. shameless men, customers service industry, mentions of abuse

a/n: lore drop and y'alls first meeting :) again, slowburn so be patient

word count: ~3.2k

‧︎༚︎☉°︎༚︎‧︎༚︎✳︎☉︎︎°︎‧︎༚︎‧︎

“Only eva’ let the good lookin’ ones get dirty wich ya, darlin,”

your mama had said rather plainly one night as you fixed her tea, voice coarse under cigarette,

��no use ina ugly fuck.”

Strange, how the only good advice she had given you (alive, at least. plenty of lessons from her dead), was about sex. She’d never been gentle enough with your hair to elicit the idea she might be with her words (but being a daughter meant you hoped). So, when you buried her, outdated ramblings and boorish tongue, most of what you took with you was boneless.

You packed the vulgar with the rest of the house, strapping it to the back of your truck and hoping it would nestle in the tobacco-less walls of your new apartment (a different shade of yellow- little kinder- absent of bile). Or maybe the newer wooden floors, eroded under boot heel, sturdy still.

On arrival you discovered it had found a less subtle home. Must have been some twisted fate (a mother’s memory- hardly sweet), that your new apartment was neighbors with your town’s brothel.

Funny, how a broke, orphaned woman like yourself, sun bleached elbows and sore neck, was given an opportunity to finally test the merit of a mother’s advice.

The withering building paralleled one of her last gifts to you, a lingerie set. Old brick red, lace trim gauze between blocks. Thick straps bridging bralette to panties like the iron beams holding up a raunchy sign- Rendezvous.

Stench of sex fogged up greasy windows, drunk mumblings of wifeless (or, a more depressing thought, married) men on its porch, wearing crucifixes in bogus devotion. The oak beneath their leather was rusting by their print of dust and the grooves beneath a bottle of beer- sorrel glass broken at the foot of creaky stairs.

Recently, your old church pews found their way back to your mind. You pushed the last of your boxes through the door, knees blushing purple with guilt. No, you had decided upon arrival- you wouldn’t even look at the place.

Pig stye, you’d convinced yourself, whore house. You turned your nose to it all, prissy and ornery even as they whistled from the railings, red knuckles itching for your attention. Hasty for the day they’d see you in dusk light, starting your shift. Only for you to leave them, day after day, cockdumb and unsatisfied.

And you had been doing so well, too.

That was until you opened the envelope- your mother’s allowance. The one useful thing that the drunken, deceased mess of a women could’ve given your hopeless soul. Magnum Opus of her faulty motherhood, forgiven with just some fucking money.

But she was always more complicated than that, wasn’t she. Peaking from the back of the white fold was, indeed, that wonderful, faded green of cash- but in front of it was a depressing beige- capitalized by black ink.

Girl,

Leave this apartment to you, take care of the old thing. That brothel knows me likes me; they’ll give you a job. Make yourself some real money, use my looks, darling. Be good. without me

Much love,

Mother.

You tossed the note aside before your hungry fingers tore the dip of the paper apart- revealing, and you counted a dozen times to be sure, sixteen dollars.

Sixteen dollars is what you’re worth. Cheap cattle at a fair, squalid men drooling as your mother snickers. Your scrawny legs buckled under the weight of the gold bell- which, you’ve now discovered, costs more than you do.

You’d be angrier if you were surprised. But you weren’t. Hell, sixteen wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been- with the way her money was spent on dozens of those cancer packs a day, cig smoke stealing your wages one stick at a time.

You plucked up her note, reading between the pen’s blood to find anything else. Searching, like you had in her for decades, for a little more. A secret message between your fiber taught liaison, written in the tone she had used with you (old spice on dry meat) up until she couldn’t anymore. You could hear it now, reading the note to you, and suddenly you were five again, tugging at her shawl as sleep nipped the last pages of your Goodnight Tales.

You didn’t fail to notice the way she signed it, either. Mother. You had always opted for the simpler, casual name, ‘mama’. It felt truer to what she was, an apparition of a parent spared by a younger nostalgia- lacking the reliance, the respect, of an actual mother.

Yet another opinion where the both of you seemed to diverge.

No, of course you weren’t surprised.

But you were now extremely aware she had limited your options to the worst one. No southern shop, built on dirt and sweat, was going to take a labor virgin without a foot in the door. Which meant the only place desperate enough to take soft, vestal hands and good hair was that ratty brothel.

So, stubborn oxen halting actual progress, you watched the bar for a week.

Perched on a chair by the sill, the last bags of honey tea in your cup as you observed the lulls in its busy. That way, when you eventually forced your ass from the dips it made in the old seat, you’d walk to the door with as little shame as possible.

As you scurried across the street at dawn, sunrise made the old cobble appear prettier than it was. Light finding the gaps between stone, serenity’s veil cast over the Dutch Gables in early morning. The birth of day scared off the grimier patrons, leaving you in the barren womb to watch it’s first breath. You paused there, relishing the one time the small market looked…worth it.

Seconds after you slide through the saloon doors, barely given enough time to drink up the sandy lighting and timber walls, a voice calls from behind the bar.

“We’re closed.”

She’s a natural blonde, you can tell by her lighter roots. Freckles contour a round face under eye bags- and you even catch the subtle crease of crows’ feet next to her grey eyes- blemished and old. Her lips screwed into what you think might be a permanent frown- that is until you speak,

“I’m here to apply.”

and it turns into a snarl, skin pitching at the bridge of her nostril, “We ain’t hirin’.”

Your mother’s note comes back to you, and you loosen the resentment in your voice as you say her name. “I’m her daughter. ‘Said I- you’d let me work here.”

The wrinkle laxed, and her snarl came down to a thin neutral line. “Did she finally kick the bucket?”

You nodded, unsure how to feel when her lips curled. “Damn. Y’had a firecracker of a mother. Worked alongside ‘er iner prime. Solid woman,” her eyes ran up your shoulders, “terrible mother, I reckon.”

You swallowed- she grinned. Her hand beckoned you to the stools, and you took a seat, shaking her outstretched hand. “You got ‘er looks. You’ll do fine ‘ere. Names Francesca.” Her eye narrowed to slits, “Nobody calls me Franny. Its Francesca, or Miss- got it?”

You nodded, and she flashed you another glimpse of her yellow teeth.

“I’ll start ya at the bar. See ‘ow long ya last.”

-

Turns out, you lasted a lot longer than she thought you would.

Swatting advances away as you gave patrons bottles, but smart enough to never get mouthy. You caught more flies with honey anyhow- so as your boots became comfortable in the mop-clean lumber floors, you’d occasionally entertain some of them.

“You single, sweetheart?” Slurred from a regular as you filled his tab. Grisly looking fellow, got years on you. Too many to be talking.

“Enough to work here.” You slid him a drink with a smile. Syrup on a glass rather than salt. The spread of his lips was telling- he tasted it.

Boisterous laughter- too loud to want just liquor- “’nough to sit on an old man’s lap?”

No. Not enough that they thought they’d get lucky- but that was the trick, wasn’t it? Just barely easy enough to send them wily looks over your shoulder, cover the spite in your voice with flirts- onion layered by a blushing red skin- weak enough that it kept them hoping. But never truly easy, moving to the next customer before the last could lean for a fat kiss.

You rolled your eyes with your back turned to him, jaw clicking in thin patience.

“Not over here. That’s for the other rooms.”

His eyes followed your pointer finger, attention sinking its dull teeth into the cardinal doors.

You pretended not to mind your position as the face of the brothel rather than the body of it. Why would you anyway? You’re sure the girls back there would kill for an easy job like yours- given the chance to politely navigate around advances rather than being forced to feed them. You only had to serve the dry slacks- and watch them as they left soiled. You didn’t have to see- no, make- that filthy in-between.

Church taught you enough. Nothing but festering confessionals behind that door.

But goodness, could you be childish. Curious mind, insecure heart- all of you greedy. You were positive they made bushels more than you- and all for some more skin, done up hair and lidded eyes?

You could do that.

Bitter, confusing envy. Makes you mad when Francesca gave you a hard no after asking for a promotion- but sorry as you curl in thin sheets before dreamless slumber.

(Did your greed weigh more than morals? Did church and your father’s absence teach you that little? Nothing should be this existential- but maybe that’s why it’s uprooting. Forked road- giving up a part of you either way.

You hate to admit you buried something of your own with your mother’s body, but what you hate more is that it’ll take this decision to figure out just what it was. Your innocence- daughterhood and a sweet virtue, or your hearth- the fight to survive and earn. Living for a little vice.

You’d dream in saturation on these nights, colors crisper than they’ve ever been- even young. You were never sure why the colors were so bright.)

So here you are, another night drawn as a sloppy line under a bar, marking…3 months? Sunrise and sunset look so similar nowadays, and it made the silhouette of an hourglass harder to etch in the tan pages of your moleskin.  

However, it did give you more time to sketch out the pub.

The booths pulled the same wood of the wall forward in a curved seat, split by a table and cushioned by yellow pillows- filled with rice, those damn things must have been harder than the booths themselves.

Around them, dark oak tables and creaky chairs- makes any working man feel ten pounds heavier with the way they whine when sat on. A candle and 3 coasters in the center of every round table, beckoning more drinks as the day died. In fact- those wax sticks were everywhere along the tavern- even in a chandelier that dangled above the liquor shelf, occasionally dripping hot tears on the bar.

Just the kind of place you’d expect to see the men you do.

Seedy- dusting in the corner of your bar are built scrawny- diet of yeast and grass evident in the hollow of their back. Mouths they hide from their mothers, hands that hit harder than their fathers. But in the redness of their cheeks- bloated by the sun and the contents you served them- was a weakness.

Masculine insecurity that had them calling you a ‘pretty bitch’. A compliment, but derogatory enough their clam tongue wasn’t revealed under the folds of their shell. No pearl, no wealth- just a common, beached, animal.

“’nother round, for mah fellows, baby.”

You glanced up. Sullen face, grey beard- twisted lips that cracked under ale. He flashed crooked teeth, and you strained a smile, forcing the tired plump of your cheeks to spread. You slipped your journal beneath the bar, taking his cups and filling them until the clouds of foam kissed the rim.

He flipped a couple coins on the counter, and you slid them into your palm.

You sighed, running your tongue along the cast of your teeth. Late hours were so boring- never new- repetitive that even the loud, sudden laughter from that back corner didn’t phase you anymore.

There were no more surprises- because everyone was here.

Ned and his calloused farmer men. Not too much of a hassle, sat in the back and called you names- but let you work. Callum and his wallowing ass in the center tables, nursing his umpteenth glass of the evening ever since his wife left.

And Silas- sweet boy- young and excited to drink. He’s more often than not by himself, drunk silly as he draws. You liked him more than the rest- brother feeling about him. Kinder.

So, it surprises you when the bell rings, well into the night, and he walks in.

Brutish arms- hung by shoulders that nearly reach the door frame. The rest of him was just as big- military fed, you had to assume. Strong jaw, buzzed skull except for a well-trimmed bush down the center. He stood out like a sore thumb, the slender builds of farmer boys a third of the bull that stood in front of you.

You weren’t the only one who noticed, as you heard the laughter behind you hush and Callum’s wallowing come to a lull. He didn’t seem to mind- especially as he made his way to the bar- eyes and smile beguiling- and directed at you.

Now you weren’t easily charmed- but you knew a handsome man when you saw one. It’s the particular weight on their shoulders- making their feet come down heavier and gate smooth.

Nothing wrong with looking at them- just as long as you don’t get too comfortable. Just because they’re clams with nicer shells, maybe even a pearl between clean teeth, doesn’t mean they’re any less washed up.

“Welcome. What can I get’cha tonight.” You offered him the same smile you gave everyone.

“Aye. A pint ‘il do.”

The thick arches of gaelic in his voice caught you off guard. Deep timbers, pine rooted in his throat, leaves lime with humor. It pooled in the back of your mouth- an aftertaste you found yourself liking.

You filled his glass, rolling the shock off your shoulders. “We don’t get many scots ‘n here.”

He chuckled as you handed him a glass, blue eyes unwavering as he took a sip. “Nae? Though’ it’da be fool of ‘em.”

He pulled a genuine laugh out of you- the sound of sarcasm familiar- comforting. “What brings you here.”

“Work.” He said plainly- but the twitch on his knuckle told you he wanted you to ask more.

“Military?”

“What gave ye tha’ idea?”

You hummed, eyes running up his shoulders. You didn’t miss how they squared, conscious under your gaze. “You don’t look like a farmer. Too much of you.”

“Aye, ere’s neva too much of me, darl.”

You sucked in your bottom lip. Charmer.

“So, you are military, then?”

“Yes ma’am.”

You idled your hands with one of the many dirty glasses that blistered under old soap studs and dried foam. The rags bumpy fabric prickled your fingers- enough to keep them from trembling when he spoke.

“What branch of the military brings you out in the middle of nowhere?”

“Most of em.”

Your lips thin to an embarrassed line. Right, of course. “I…guess I’m really asking what branch you are.”

He took another swing of his beer, and you watched as he tipped his jaw back- revealing the catch of his throat as he swallowed. Must have been on purpose- show off.  “SAS. On leave, yer place looked tidy,” his eyes gave you a once over, “good tae see ’m right.”

Turning to set the glass down gave you an excuse to avoid his eyes. Demin blue but not casual, deep-set and sharp. Military grade, you could tell by the way they really saw. Accessing you, ran up the hunch of your spine and the click of your wrist- aiming to find spare bullets and threats.

He’d come up empty, though. No, not in you. All he’d find was the jump of your heart against your cervical.

“Mmm,” you offered, “Its cute, I’ll give it that much. Good for the drinks.”

He nodded, “’N maybe somethin more…”

These are the moments when your mother’s voice comes back to you. Thick spit, coarse hair- tangled and suffocating- your lungs sting almost as much as the red print on your cheek.

“Foolish child.”

Your back was turned, so you thought maybe you’d finally been tempting enough to something pretty. That the lilt in his voice, the gravel as it went an octave deeper, accent blooming under light o’s and rolled r’s- meant for your company.

That maybe, the looks you had been told were your only asset, had finally done some good.

You were left disappointed when you turned back around, cheeks a hopeful rose, when his eyes had left you. Instead, past your shoulder, to the red doors.

You’d never seen what was actually behind them, Francesca made sure of that. You could only assume it was the collection of every mans desire painted pretty- shelves of toys, women in bright, expensive lingerie, red lips on rum ones. A childish image, really, but what else were you to do?

In a way, you were just as desperate to get behind those doors as every man here. Not necessarily in the same way- not to satisfy some sick desire, dig up a buried, old arousal that their poor wives didn’t anymore.

No, for you it was to satisfy your own insecurity. Hungry creature, eager to prove and ready to sweat. To be something- pretty, ugly, didn’t matter. As long as you had a place there, you’d be rich.

“Oh, yes,” you let your customer smile come back, editing the script you were given in your head, “pretty gals over there. If you wanted a-“

“Ye work tere?”

You choked on nothing. “What?”

“Do ye work ‘n ta brothel?”

Genuine curiosity. Maybe he was hiding something else behind thin lips, but the question came out too casual for its boldness that you wouldn’t’ve caught it. You found yourself unsure in your own body, standing stiff as your bones questioned whether to lean, sit, or run.

You chose none of the three, and instead you spoke.

“No.” Not yet. You wanted to add. He hummed, taking a last swig of his pint before placing the cup on the table with a…hefty tip. You opened your mouth to say something, but when your eyes met his you were quickly hushed.

Ripped denim, now razor blue. The yellow of the lights seemed to bring it out, and if you weren’t confident he had killed a man, you were now.

“Shame,” he said, standing, “Such a bloody waste.”

[delightfulcollectivetyphoon]

OK VRO I HAD S GOOD IDEA FOR A FANFIC

Cliff burton x fem!Reader and reader is like a goody two shoes and cliff is a bad boy or wtv but they go to the same church and hookup in the bathroom during service 👀

omfgggg yesssss i like where ur head is at

jesus christ this is way longer than i wanted it to be (thats what she said. actually. what person has ever said that.)

HANG ON TIGHT BITCHES

cws: innocent!fem!reader, kinda douchebag cliff, praise kink, oral sex (F receiving), loss of virginity, lil bit of blood, cliff calls reader angel, p in v, unprotected sex, virginity kink

You were joined at the altar by a tall man with a denim jacket and such long hair that you thought he was a woman. But as he kneeled to rest his hands on the bench, you saw that he was in fact a man. Your mind strayed from your silent prayer, wondering who had allowed him in the church. It was customary for the men to wear suits and be well groomed. Girls wore dresses and were expected to wear their hair up. This is what God wanted. This is how his people acted. This strange man seemed to follow his own rules. Part of you immediately disliked him for his disregard of the church's expectations, but the other part found him fascinating. Daring to walk up to the altar with his shoulders slouched. Mumbling his prayer aloud. The rings on his fingers, one of a ram's head and the other featuring a skull. You hurried through your prayer to go sit back down with your family. You stood, and he tilted his head ever so slightly. His smirk caught your eye, and your breath caught in your throat. After a moment of hesitation, you cleared your throat and made your way back to your pew. When you sat down, your mother gave you a curious look.

"My goodness, what's got you so flustered? Do you feel alright?"

"Uh, yeah... just a little dizzy. Must be from the heat."

You didn't feel alright. You felt...funny. After trying your best to sit through the sermon, you couldn't help it. You stood, smoothed out your dress, and made your way to the bathroom. You were surprised to find the man from earlier leaning against the back wall of the church, hands in his pockets, focused on the priest. He noticed you passing by, and stopped you, holding out his hand.

"Saw you up at the altar. Names' Cliff."

"Oh! Uh...yes! Nice to meet you!"

You ignored his hand and had only gotten one step further when you felt his hand on your shoulder.

"Whoa whoa whoa. You feelin' all right?"

"Yes." Your answer was concise and snippy, getting your urgency across.

He stared at you for a moment, then let go watching you hurry out of the chapel.

In the bathroom, you gripped the sides of the sink and stared straight into your reflection. What the hell was happening? After a moment of zoning out, you noticed your thighs were clenched, but when you relaxed them, an ache crept into your lower stomach, and your clit begun to throb. Fear plagued your mind, unsure of what God would think of your...predicament.

"You doin' okay sweetheart?"

You jumped as his voice came through the bathroom door.

"Um, sir, this is a women's bathroom!" Your voice came out shaky and high-pitched, noticing the throbbing became more intense when he spoke.

"Ya decent?"

"Uh...yes. Wait no! Don't come in!"

It was too late. He was standing in the door frame. One hand on the knob, the other on the frame.

"I have no fuckin' clue who you are but the one thing I do know is something's wrong and I have no clue what it is. If you want some help you need to tell me what's wrong."

"I...think I'm sick."

"That's it? You're acting like there's some big crisis."

"Well..."

You covered your face in shame.

"Seeing you up at the altar made me feel...funny."

"How so?"

"My stomach, my lower stomach, you just make me ache. A-and my legs are shaky and...I don't know what's happening."

Tears welled up in your eyes, not missed by Cliff. He could see the drops form in between your fingers. He took your hands and placed them by your sides.

"So you're telling me...you've never been horny before?"

Your blank expression gave you away.

"You've never had sex?"

"I haven't been married."

He stared at you in utter disbelief.

"Well honey, the solution to your 'sickness' is to have sex."

"I can't! Pre-marital sex is sinful! I'm not supposed to!"

He threw his hands up and sighed.

"Look, I'm just tryna help."

You knew that he was right. You were a virgin at 19. Never even masturbated. You probably just needed to blow off some steam.

"Does it hurt?"

"Scuse me?"

"Sex. Does it hurt."

Knowing he was in for a long conversation, he sat down on the counter and flicked his Zippo open, bringing a cigarette to his lips.

"What are you doing?" You asked, horrified.

"Sweetheart, we're sitting in a church bathroom. I'm explaining to you what sex feels like. Let me have this."

You gave him a glare before sitting beside him.

You both sat in silence for a few minutes, marinating in the awkwardness.

"I've heard it can. For women."

"Well it almost always does," he corrected himself, taking his cig from his lips and tapping it on the edge of the sink, "because you're stretching open. No way that doesn't hurt a little bit."

"If it hurts so much, why do people do it?"

"Oh sweetheart, you really are clueless, aren't you," he laughed.

"It's not funny!"

"'S funny as hell, seein' you all flustered."

The throbbing only intensified as he made fun of you.

"It feels good at the end, gets you all spacey and shit."

"So it feels good, but it hurts?"

"Well, it only hurts the first few minutes or so, and then the pain kinda just becomes pleasure."

"Oh."

"Will you help me?"

The question caught him completely off-guard, making him choke on his own spit and nearly dropping his cig on his leg.

"What's wrong?"

"Sweetheart it's just... you're asking me to take your virginity. In a church bathroom."

"I know, and I do feel bad about it, but it just hurts now. I just need...something."

"Oh yeah? Tell me what you need."

"...you."

He stared at you for a few seconds before speaking again.

"Oh sweetheart, you have no idea what you're doing."

"Yeah but...you can teach me, right?"

He flicked his cig in the sink before swallowing hard and trying to ignore the obvious bulge in his jeans.

"Only if you really want it."

"I do, I want it."

"Good girl."

He slid off the counter, taking his jacket off and setting it to the side.

"The thing that's most important is the foreplay. You gotta warm each other up, get ready for it."

You were surprised to feel a warm hand feel it's way up your skirt, rings catching on the material. He left goosebumps on your thighs. You whimpered as his hot breath hit your neck, tongue just barely skimming the surface. A sound you had never heard another soul make erupted from your throat as his pointer and middle finger grazed your center, blocked by your panties.

"Please, do it again!"

He grinned against your neck as he repeated his motions, a bit rougher than last time.

Your hips moved on their own, bumping into his. A noise came from him that made think you had hurt him, when in reality, you had just ground onto the front of his jeans.

"Oh my gosh, are you okay?"

"Better than okay sweetheart," he grunted.

You earned another sound from him when he used his pointer finger to move the crotch of your panties aside, grazing your labia in the process. Again, your hips jutted forward, hitting his erection. It was only the second time around you noticed something was poking your center.

"What's that?"

"That's my dick sweetheart. That's what I fuck you with."

"Well, aside from these."

His pointer finger just barely touched your clit, nearly making you yell.

"Please!"

"Please what?"

"Please just touch me, I need it so bad!"

His middle finger rested on your clit, rubbing slow circles.

"Feels so good, please don't stop."

"Wasn't planning on it sweetheart."

"Can I feel it?"

"What?"

"Your...dick?"

"Oh honey, you have no idea how adorable you are."

He grabbed your hand, cupping his bulge with it.

"It's so...hard."

"This," he groaned, "is what happens when men get horny. 'S called an erection."

"You're gonna put it in me?"

"Yep."

You reached for the zipper, before being stopped.

"Nuh-uh sweetheart. I gotta do sumthin' first."

He winked at you before kneeling, becoming eye level with your core. You almost yelled when you felt his tongue on your upper thigh, making it's way to your pussy. It was unlike anything you've ever felt. Like heaven, but better. You snapped out of your trance, however, when you felt something build in your stomach.

"Something...somethings happening! Uh! Cliff!"

He stood, hand taking his tongue's place, rubbing fast circles over your clit.

"'S all right honey, just let it happen."

"Ngh-Cliff, uh..."

"You're gonna cum sweetheart, it's normal, just let it happen."

You're hands gripped his shoulders as you climaxed. Your mouth open in a silent scream, your hips spasming.

"Cliff, Cliff! Uh, please! It's too much!"

You whimpered at the sudden loss of his fingers, your overstimulated cunt throbbing.

"Now the fun part."

He laid his jacket on the floor, taking your hand and lowering you onto the tile. He undid his pants, pulling them down in the front just enough to lift his cock and balls out of his boxers.

"I don't think I can do this."

"C'mon sweetheart, it'll only hurt for a minute, and then you'll cum again. And this time, it'll feel a lil better."

"Okay, just be gentle."

He situated himself at your entrance, taking your hands in his, and making eye contact, pushed the head inside, earning him a strangled moan from you. After about a minute, he felt you loosen the tightest bit around him, letting him slide in about an inch farther. His head hung heavy on his shoulders before lifting it again.

"Shit sweetheart. So fucking tight."

"Deeper."

Over the course of about ten minutes, he managed to work his way inside you.

Your hands were pushing against his chest, nails digging through his shirt. Tears stained your cheeks, leaving wet spots on the collar of your dress.

"I c-can't, it hurts too much!"

"Ooh, I know you can take more."

He slowly slid out, leaving the very tip in. He gave you a minute before working his way back in.

"Doin' so fucking good for me..." he whispered over your whimpers.

Before you knew it, he was fucking you at a brutal pace, bruising your waist with his grip.

He was close, so fucking close. He carefully grabbed your chin and faced you toward him.

"You want me to cum in this pretty pussy? Yeah?"

"Uh huh!" was all you could get out, practically brain dead. Being this close to such a massive orgasm was an entirely novel experience for you, incapacitating you.

"Oh fuuuck, gonna fill you up angel, gonna fill you up so good."

"Please! Please oh my god! Yes!"

He bent down to your ear before whispering,

"Such a fucking whore getting fucked in church, letting a fucking stranger take your innocence. What would your parents think? What would God think, his child losing her purity to a sinner? Huh?"

His questions pushed you over the edge, making you scream. Cliff quickly covered your mouth with his hand, stilling inside you. The feeling of his cum inside you only intensified your orgasm, making you convulse.

He kept his hand over your mouth as he very slowly fucked his cum and your blood back into your hole. He carefully pulled out, letting the aftermath drip onto his jacket. You were still speechless, letting the aftershocks roll through you. He comforted you and left little kisses all over you as he reached into the stall to grab a generous amount of toilet paper, wetting it at the sink and wiping your thighs and lower stomach off.

"That's my good girl, there she is," he cooed as you tried to stand, groaning. Your legs shook violently, sending you back down into his lap.

"Whoa there sweetheart." He laughed.

"Shut up."

You smiled, leaning back into his arms.

[ajuunisu]

What other one piece dynamics do you like? Platonic or romantic. I’m curious ✍️

AYEE SUP BRO, GLAD YA ASKED🔥🔥🫶💯‼️✨

since I ain't that far yet in 1 pizz, (ep 150💀) i only know a pew

Romantic:

Sabolaw

Acesan

Acelaw

Kobylu

Zolu

Nami x tashigi

Tashigi x Reiju

Platonic

Nami and ussop

Luffy, Zoro, and Nami

Law and Bepo

Law and Chopper ( that one scene were law was carryin chopchop was funny)

But ye so farr, thisbwas i got bro, but this def finna change fo more🔥🔥🔥💯💯‼️‼️‼️

[hiseternalmayfly]

Sinners Before The Cross

My part of a Fic/Art trade with @whispywoodland/@amaltheasdreams. If you're interested in doing a fic/fic or fic/art trade with me send me a message!

Characters: Nicholas D. Wolfwood (Tri98) & Molly (S/I) Pairing: MollyWood Word Count: ~1.4k CW: 18+ MINORS DNI. Sex in Church, Praise Kink This was written for Molly and their ship with Wolfwood. Other Wolfwood self shippers please do no tag as your ship or you will get blocked. 💕 As always, feedback and comments are welcome!

"Funny, I thought you woulda burnt to a crisp if you stepped foot in here."

Molly turned their head quickly, standing up from their kneeling position in front of the altar table. Their attention turned to Wolfwood, who stood in the doorway leaning against the Punisher. He had a smirk; he always loved to be cocky with them. Good thing they could return the favor.

"Aren’t you one to talk? I wouldn’t say you’re very Godly yourself, Wolf." One hand rested on their hip, returning an equally cocky smirk towards him.

Wolfwood sauntered towards them, setting his heavy cross against the pew chairs with a relieved sigh. His shoulders relaxed as he reached an arm out, pulling their body closer to his in a side hug.

"That’s where yer mistaken, darlin’. I’m the big man’s right-hand man." His facial expression was serious, but his voice oozed with sarcasm. It was enough to get a snort and a snicker from Molly. "So tell me, what are you doin’ in a place like this?"

Molly’s eyes ogled the large golden cross hanging from the walls, surrounded by beautiful stained glass windows depicting the teachings of God. Such a shame that their past drove them to separate themselves from the teachings of the church, as the artwork and aesthetic were beautiful in their opinion. "Can’t someone just admire the beauty of a buildin’?" 

"Course you can, doll face. Though, if we’re talkin’ beauty, you certainly outshine the decorations." Wolfwood’s teasing smile did not reflect the sincerity of his words. He placed a gentle kiss on their temple, giving them a soft squeeze. "I could admire you all day."

Molly’s cheeks flushed a soft pink, and the cheesy words of their lover drew another laugh from them. "I could say the same ‘bout you, you know. You had me love-struck the day I first saw you. Meryl’s been teasin’ me about it ever since."

"Well, them insurance girls can read everyone like a book. Even me. The big girl knew I was comin’ to look for ya." 

"You came lookin’ for me? Shucks, aren’t you sweet?" Molly turned and planted a deep and loving kiss on his lips, which Wolfwood was happy to return. Their taste was one to savor.

The two parted after their long kiss, staring into each other's eyes with passion.

"‘Course I did. We finally got a day where we ain’t trailing blondie ‘round. I’m not gonna waste the opportunity to pamper my handsome one." Wolfwood moved in to close the distance between the two of them. Two firm hands gripped Molly’s hips, pushing them gently until their back was firm against the altar table.

"In here, Woof? Why don’t we take it back to the inn and–" 

Molly’s words were interrupted by a fierce kiss; hungry lips pressed against theirs as Wolfwood’s tongue snaked out and explored their mouth. Molly could feel Wolfwood smirk as the action drew a whine from them. A soft gasp escaped as they were lifted up and set down gently onto the table, legs pushed apart so Wolfwood could get as close as possible.

His lips moved from theirs and began trailing downward, from their jaw to their neck, nibbling and teasing the skin, all to draw soft moans from Molly.

"That’s a good boy; keep makin’ those noises for me." Wolfwood purred, showering Molly with praise for how well their body responded to his advances. Another delightful snicker came out at how easily Molly melted under his touch. Calloused hands snaked up their shirt, cupping Molly’s breasts firmly. His thumbs traced circles around their nipples, slowly moving in until he thumbed over them. All the while, he continued to nibble at their neck, leaving a few marks so everyone knew Molly was firmly taken.

"Wolf–ah– Slow down there for a second." Molly’s voice was breathless, and the heat was quickly building between their legs. His touches were calculated, and he knew exactly where to touch and press to get them going. They raised their arms to help Wolfwood get rid of their shirt, discarding the fabric on the floor of the church. 

Slowing down was the last thing he was going to do. His lips moved from their neck to their chest until he took their hardened bud into his mouth, sucking gently. The hand that had been teasing their breasts was quick to snake itself into their pants, fingers brushing against their wet folds.

He released their breast with a lewd pop, glancing up with a smirk. "Look at ya, already so wet. You’ve been wantin’ this too, haven’t ya?" His fingers began to circle their clit, watching as Molly rolled their head back in delight, gasping out a plea for more. "Good boy, give me more of them noises. Show God who you really belong to."

His mouth returned to their breast, giving attention to their neglected nipple. He swirled some of their slick around his finger, moving downward to slide a single digit inside of them.

"Wolf–oh god…" The air was pulled straight from their lungs as his finger curled into their sweet spot, which he wasted no time teasing with his long finger. All they could do was watch in delight, their eyes hazy with lust and need.

"I gotta taste you…" 

The digit was hastily removed, fingers ripping down their pants like he was dying of hunger. "Lay back and spread your legs, darlin’."

The desperation in Wolfwood’s eyes made Molly’s own desire grow. They laid back on the table, pushing their legs apart to give him access to their dripping sex.

Wolfwood grabbed their legs, resting them on his shoulders as his tongue traced across their folds, glancing up to see the blissful expression Molly made. It was all the encouragement he needed to keep going.

His tongue swirled around their clit, lapping up the juices like it was the first drink he'd had in ages. All of it to hear the wonderful noises from Molly as they called out his name, begging for more. No one could touch them quite like he could, and they both knew that.

"You're so fuckin' wet, doll face. You taste divine…" He whispered gently, continuing his assault on their sensitive bud. "Think yer ready for me?"

"Please, Woof. I need ya." Molly pleaded desperately. The sound of Wolfwood undoing the zipper on his pants made them shudder. Their eyes gleamed with excitement when they saw his hard shaft press gently against their folds. He rubbed it back and forth, causing both of them to moan.

"Keep yer eyes on me." Both hands rested beside Molly as he entered into them, grunting as their walls squeezed around his cock. "Fuck..yer tight." His words were followed by a satisfied growl as he buried himself to the hilt.

Molly’s expression of bliss was a sight to behold. Wolfwood took a moment to thank the Lord that someone so perfect was in his life and belonged to him. "Please…move."

Wolfwood was pulled from his thoughts by their words. He placed a kiss on their cheek. "Anything for you, my good boy." His pace was slow for only a moment as self-control slowly began to drain from him.

The way Molly’s body took him so perfectly made him want to drool. "It's like you were made for me. You take me so well. That feel good, sweetheart?" 

All Molly could do was nod their head in reply. Each thrust from Wolfwood had them seeing stars as his cock pressed firmly against their sweet spot.

"Keep makin' those faces, and I'm gonna fuck ya till the sun goes down." Wolfwood leaned over their body to whisper these words into their ear. He was enjoying the sound of skin against skin that filled the church. "Come for me, baby." He whispered again.

Wolfwood's hand rubbed circles around their clit to urge them towards their orgasm, his own building like a tight knot about to snap.

Molly threw her head back, arching their body off the table as their orgasm slammed them hard. Their walls spasm around Wolfwood.

"Fuck me–" He groaned in pleasure. It was enough to push him over as he buried himself inside, releasing his seed with a relieved moan.

The two of them remained there as their heavy breaths filled the space between them.

It was Molly who finally broke the silence with a giggle as they leaned up to press a loving kiss against his lips. "Round two?" 

Wolfwood happily returned the kiss, stroking his fingers through their hair.

"You're on."

[dhajetii]

Tlou episode 4! Raiders! Let’s gooo

Also looks like episode 5 will drop on Friday instead of Sunday. Funny that they think I’ll be too busy with the Super Bowl I guess to watch tlou. Anyways! Unless they toss in something new, this arc from the game should be crying-free? Been a while since I played the game I just remember mostly stealth killing my way through the raiders.

I think this will be the first time I skip the intro. It already feels wrong. Won’t be doing that again.

“Pew, pew,” lol Ellie it ain’t a toy.

THE JOKE BOOK!!!! <3

GASP!! THE PORN MAG!!!!!!!!! YAS THEY DID THE LINE!! “Why are the pages stuck together? Lol jk I know why”

Joel engaging with the jokes. <3 the walls are slowly coming down.

“No one is going to find us” yeah okay ominous foreshadowing.

“I’m not even tired” then immediately cuts to her sleeping. That type of comedy always gets a laugh out of me.

Oh! Henry and Sam! Things just clicked, okay okay.

Also wtf? Ground zombie shit??

<3 ellie & Joel bonding <3

Also!! Henry and Sam!! I don’t remember how their arc played out in the game tbh, but I’m pretty sure they’re cool. We like Henry and Sam.

Edit: this episode kinda felt like bracing for impact or tensing up just before a massive leap or something. Setting the stage for a massive conflict next episode. Easy to forget when I can’t binge the whole series at once and have to watch one episode a week apart, but pacing is a thing that has to exist lol.

[ladygoofball]

How would a modern day Oracle Sound?

Probably a little poetic, a touch pathetic, but never missing.

Time to call for action?

They said “who the hell is this? Coming in like a Snobody?”

Like I’d ever step in the scene with no flow? No Money?

Please.

I just make playing dumb look hotter than it ever was

I do what I want then watch while people try to keep up with what is coming next

If I knew? I’d tell ya! I have a card or two up my sleeve that can help shine a light on the path ahead tho.

Light Bringer? Fight Winner? The grand champion of beating them to the punch? Without gloves?

They just don’t make good oracles anymore!

Good thing I know a thing or two about rebuilding a mold. I might have cracked it on the way out last time.

My bad, it got too constricting so I had to break it down.

Didn’t she already try to do that before?

Who is to say. Nobody wanted to play that game.

The way I speak may not burn you yet

That’s just because I have a problem with the pronunciation of the words that can get the seats Set

I used to be on Stage, but I had a bit of an attitude

Maybe it’s because I sounded like I was giving a demonstration in Beatitudes

Women are not allowed to do that in the church I came from

So I left to find a better one.

Turns out nature made a better pew

It’s funny how the witching hour always gets me seeing things from a different point of view.

Guess it’s time to get back to Crafting. This ship won’t sail without a captain.

[accidental-spice]

Fun fact: ya girl @kanerallels is HILARIOUS normally, but while playing video games, she is twice as chaotic and it's super funny. Therefore, I am proud to present....

Things my sister said while playing KOTOR.

"Guys, look, it's a corpse!"

"Well, I'm already dead."

"This is what happens when you go up random LADDERS. JACINDA." (For reference, Jacinda is the name of her Revan character, and yes, she was role-playing as the whole party)

"Wha-- SHE'S DEAD!!!! YOU'VE JUST KILLED OUR PRECIOUS ANGEL DAUGHTER!!!!!!"

"Okay, fine. We'll stop running into psychopaths. Are you happy?" "No, because there is literally NO WAY you can guarantee that."

"Maybe chill, Carth." (A LOT.)

"In my defense, I have no idea where we're going. "

*gasps* "FRAG GRENADE!!!!"

"Hi, Zalbar. I'm Jacinda. I'm amazing."

"Who do I want to bring with? The useless Carth, or everyone else? Just kidding, I really want to bring Carth."

"Carth, don't distract me from For King and Country. "

"Mission. Was that not the tightest crap you've ever seen?"

"Not to use a frag grenade at close range, buuuuut...."

*in a tone of glee* "I just set our enemies on fire. "

"Time to set off another frag grenade at close range. "

"Here, have a frag grenade. Yeet!"

"What? How are you not dead? That was a kriffin' large frag grenade."

"Fine, have another frag grenade. Sharing is caring."

"I've got drugs. I've got a chance. And a frag grenade, too."

"Drugs and frag grenades will get me through this."

(Really, just a LOT of stuff about frag grenades. )

"Oh, hey guys, are you alive? The important thing to remember is, I saved the day!"

"Everyone is at vaguely okayish health. "

"Oh, I'm not listening to anyone, I'm just mocking Carth."

"I'm the bomb. One might say I'm the frag grenade. "

"CARTH STOP DOING BACKFLIPS AND HELP!!!!"

"THAT'S IT. I'm going single player mode."

*30 seconds later* "My entire party is dead."

"All right, we'll shoot you. Pew pew, pewpewpew."

"YOU LET OUR DAUGHTER DIE, CARTH. I HOPE YOU'RE HAPPY."

"OH MY GOSH CARTH OUR DAUGHTER'S DEAD AGAIN."

"You know what? I'm gonna throw a grenade at you. Have a sonic grenade. I don't know what it does, but it cannot be pleasant."

"I respect Zalbar more than the rest of you."

"Could you please shut up, Bastila?"

"Oh, yeah, while I'm here, I gotta go buy a permacrete detonator for..... reasons you probably don't want to know about, Bastila."

"Worst comes to worst, I'll just yeet a frag grenade at him."

*a couple minutes later * "Worst comes to worst, I'll throw a plasma grenade at her."

Okay, so, like, I'm gonna make a couple *insert fandom here* characters as things my sister said while playing KOTOR, so make some fandom suggestions, maybe?

[commonwealth-ladies-react]

Okay so you know how sometimes raiders will talk about that person that makes all those sounds like the motorcycle and the grenades? Could you do companions react to finding out its the some survivor who’s doing it? Like theyre at a raider camp and they overhear the raiders telling one of the stories and then sosu is like “watch this” *insert gun sounds* (also could you make the reader gender neutral please •~•) thank you :)

[First I want to apologize for the delay, it took me a couple weeks to recover from my wrist injury and then I recently started a new job at a warehouse, so I’ve been absolutely knackered by the time I get home. But here I am, finally! Enjoy.]

It did take long to run into trouble after leaving Goodneighbor. Sole gestured for their companion to lay low, kneeling down by an old semi trailer before stealing across the street closer to a wooden barricade. Two Raiders patrolled the top of the crude barricade, but didn’t seem to notice Sole.

Sole moved forward and their boot accidentally kicked against a loose rock. It skidded across the cracked asphalt, making the two Raiders whip around. “Who’s there?!” One demanded, waving her gun around.

[more under the cut, this got long]

Neither Sole nor their companion said a word.

“Damn it, hearin’ shit again.” The Raider lowered her gun.

The other Raider did the same and stepped closer to their partner. “Hey, did you hear about that kid that’s been runnin’ around?”

“Gonna have to be more specific.”

“Yeah, apparently Joe down by Hardware Town saw them. They were pretending to rev up a motorcycle and throw grenades and everything. But like… There’s no motorcycle. The grenades are rocks. The kid’s just faking it all.”

“You serious? That’s…” The Raider laughed. “That’s fucked up, man.”

Sole grunted. “I wouldn’t call me a kid,” they grumbled.

Their companion gave them a quizzical look.

Sole put a finger to their lips as a sign for silence and grabbed a handle of pebbles. A beat passed before they tossed them against the barricade and began making a loud hissing noise between their teeth. They grabbed their companion’s hand and dragged them along. Just as they made it to the barricade, Sole shouted a large explosion.

As the Raiders turned, guns drawn, Sole started pointed at each of them, hand positioned like a fake pistol. “Pew! Pew pew!” They shouted, ‘shooting’ each one. “Pew! Pew—tch, tch, tch.” Their ‘gun’ jammed and they mimed having to reload. “Pew!” They ‘shot’ one Raider square in the chest.

The Raiders were so confused that Sole was able to run right past them, dragging their poor companion behind them. Once safe, they began to laugh.

Cait: She looked at Sole, her eyes wide and her chest heaving. “You coulda gotten us killed, ya idiot!” She wanted to be angry, but a part of her was more impressed than anything. “But… Damn, fine. You mean you’re the one doin’ all that?”

Sole nodded, smiling. “You bet.”

“That’s…” Cait sighed, shaking her head. “God damn it, if I’d known ye’re like this, I woulda played along a lot sooner.” She found she rather liked the idea. It was funny, and the looks on the Raiders’ faces? Fucking priceless.

Curie: “Zhat was very dangerous!” Her heart beat hard against her ribs and she was more concerned with controlling her breathing than anything else. “You are very lucky that zhe Raiders didn’t shoot at us!”

Sole rubbed the back of their neck, looking sheepish. “I’m sorry… But that’s how I got out of fighting before, and it’s worked so far!”

“And zhat is… Well, is isn’t fine, but I want you to warn me next time!” She can’t help but be worried. The Commonwealth is a dangerous enough place without running straight through certain death like that. To be sure, she’d never quite get used to it, and never encouraged it.

Piper: “You mean you’re the one those Raiders were talking about?” Of course, she already heard about the strange person that would pretend to ride motorcycles and throw grenades and shoot guns, but she never expected it was Sole. “I’ve been tracking that guy for ages!”

Sole grinned. “It was me, all me.”

She flicked out her notepad and grabbed a pen from her glove. “All right, tell me where you got the idea and how the hell you go so good at making those noises.”

It didn’t bother Piper much. She thought it was interesting more than anything, and was perfectly happy to sneak around Raider camps while Sole did their thing. It was always funny, after all.

[ciggylungz]

Pray to me

word count. 4,077

Warnings-like probably the most risky smut i’ve ever written, church sex, wild stuff (sorry)

Pray to me:

(A random little smutty one shot relating to my bad boy harry series, it’s not going to affect the story line so just imagine this is another au for my au that’s an au. I just gave myself a stroke writing that.)

__

Detention.

A ‘punishment’ Harry Styles was used to getting by now, he was in his third year of Catholic high school and to say he has gotten his fair share of detention slips is a gross understatement. You’d think being surrounded by crosses would help subdue his cursing yet Harry didn’t seem to inherit the same fear his classmates did by the ‘word of god’ that was crammed down his throat every day. So, it wasn’t exactly tolerated when the boy strung a slew of curses together to describe the head Priest, or when he got caught smoking spliffs in the boys bathroom when he was supposed to be in math and well, those choices led him to where he is now. Slouched in a pew whilst the head nun was giving him a proper tongue lashing and explaining to him that he was to clean the chapel from top to bottom, smooth any creased pages in the 300 bibles that were stacked in the rows of pews, get any gum off the under side of them as well and wipe down the stain glass windows. The school had called his mum to tell her he would be home very late that day knowing the job would take a solid 4 or 5 hours to complete and that’s if he rushed it. To say he was pissed was putting it lightly, yet the biggest shock was yet to come when he heard the heavy wooden doors open and slam again as another person shuffled inside.

“Miss Yln, you’re here. Mister Styles here can tell you the duties you both must complete, here are the keys lock the doors when you both are finished. We’ll expect to meet with you before mass tomorrow to get a proper apology once the work if finished. Right-o, chop chop kids.”

The grouchy wrinkle faced nun thrust the keys into an anxious Y/n’s hands while she shuffled her way towards the exit, giving a careless slam of the 20 pound doors causing both Harry and Y/n to flinch. Harry was genuinely surprised to see Y/n there with him, he’s used to seeing her at mass or in line at confessional but detention? That was a new one for her. He took his time standing from his seat, cracking his back and neck whilst he settled onto his feet, casting a curious glance at the girl who stuck out like a sore thumb in the somber hostile environment. He knew Y/n well, he considers her a friend which is rare since he’s not the friendliest of people around town. Yet he liked Y/n, she was cute as button and what teenage boy doesn’t find an innocent girl wearing a catholic school uniform appealing?

“well well well miss sunshine, what did you do to get yourself this torment?” Harry gave her the quick once over, using his typical teasing nickname for the girl just to get her cheeks to blush a bit and help lighten the mood. Y/n blew out a breath out through her plump glossed lips, subconsciously stomping her foot a bit in annoyance which Harry thought was funny, and also cute. “I accidentally said a bad word in class! James tricked me into saying it and Sister Amy heard and gave me detention.” Her pout grew further when the boy chuckled at her attitude. “How did he trick yeh into saying somethin’?” Y/n grunted a bit, very peeved and mentally hexing James for what his actions caused her, “He said hold your tongue while you say apple…” Harry at this point was letting out a belly laugh, just imagining Y/n’s face when she realized she’d said asshole and finding humor in how ditzy she could be sometimes. “You fell for that? Did you not have a childhood? I thought everyone knew that trick, hon” Y/n simply smacked his arm and tossed the keys onto the nearest surface. “Shush Harry” her little finger pointed at him, trying to be serious but he found it comical. His hands moved out to poke her sides, knowing exactly how ticklish she was feeling content as Y/n squirmed and squealed. Adorable giggles falling from her lips and making the chapel seem a bit less creepy, her tiny hands trying to push his biceps back to free herself from his tickling fingers. “Ah! Harry!-“ she was trying to speak between her laughs, the boy one year her senior smiled, dimples sinking into the flesh of his cheeks, “Dunno what you expected, love. You thought you could tell me to shush?! no one tells me to do princess.” “Okay! Okay I’m sorry! I take it back!” after what seemed like an eternity to Y/n, but was only a few ticks over a minute Harry finally let go, smiling down at her while he ruffled her hair chuckling to himself while she tried to straighten her uniform back out. “That was not a fair fight Harry, you had an unfair weight AND height advantage!” y/n stuck her tongue out at him. “Hey, you started it bossy pants. You’re lucky I didn’t throw yeh over m’ shoulder and tossed yeh around. You got off easy this time missy.”

Harry wasn’t typically so playful and relaxed, he couldn’t bring himself to be so cold around Y/n. How could he? She’s sunshine personified, the real version of the rhyme ‘sugar, spice and everything nice’.  The girl was the only thing that kept him from dropping out. Y/n makes day to day bullshit tolerable for him…and well she also has given her inspiration more than once when he couldn’t sleep at night and resorted to a quick wank while mumbling of dirty phrases topped off with her name to send him off to dreamland.

 _______________________________

After some more shenanigans, the pair got to work on their scheduled tasks.  Y/n had started in the bibles in the first 6 pews on the right side of the chapel while Harry dug through a supply closet to get a ladder out to wipe the windows. He was contemplating if he should pretend to fall and collect an insurance claim instead of actually cleaning the 12-foot art pieces but he decided against it by the time he found what he was looking for. After setting the ladder up and grabbing the giant duster Harry decided to take his first break, he knew he was just procrastinating but who cares? He decided during his break he’d get Y/n to take one with him. “Hey love, wanna take a fiver?” Y/n looked up from the 12th bible she had fixed giving him a frantic nod, her mind numb from the task she was busy doing.

“what do yeh wanna do?” she left the choice up to the older boy, watching as he bit his lip lightly in thought, shrugging and scooting in next to her. “truth or dare?” he wiggled his eyebrows tempting her and being the compliant and very bored girl, she was, Y/n agreed.

“Okay you first Harry, truth or dare?” the boy pondered for a moment before shrugging, “Truth” he didn’t miss the way she was fidgeting with her skirt all excited for the game. “Ok, have you ever uhmmmm got drunk?” her innocence laced her tone, genuine curiosity. Her voice slightly lowered as if what she was asking was naughty which of course got Harry to chuckle, “Yes, pretty much every weekend. You’ve never drank? Not even once, love?” his left eyebrow raised and she timidly shrugged “Nope, I only had wine at communion but then it’s only a sip. Never been drunk before…Okay your turn!” he hummed slightly, “Truth or dare y/n?” “uhhh dare!” at this point she was squirming in her seat from her giddiness, and Harry took full opportunity over the chance he had. “I dare you to kiss me.”

Y/n wasn’t exactly expecting that one. She thought maybe he’d dare her to say another bad word or smoke one of his cigarettes, but he wanted her to kiss him…and she was confused on why she wanted to. She didn’t want to say no, she had the urge to follow through with it. The girl noticed the butterflies in her stomach she was used to getting when around her older friend, and a blush crawled up her neck to her cheeks. Harry sat with an amused smirk, darting his tongue out to lick over his lips whilst tipping his head to the side slightly, “cat got your tongue, love? What are yeh waiting for?” a pointer finger was placed under her chin to get her to look at him, and y/n decided it was better to bite the bullet and pushed her thoughts out of the way while quickly leaning in to give him a peck.

Harry was surprised she actually did it, feeling her lips on his for a split second before she pulled away with a shy giggle yet he was having none of that. “uh uh, a real kiss” his natural dominance reared it’s head when he grabbed the girl and plopped her on his lap, holding her jaw and planting his lips on her’s yet again coaxing her to move with him. When she didn’t respond how he wanted he tugged her hair a bit, biting her bottom lip and dragging it down so her mouth was pried open, “Being a tease y/n, keep your mouth open wanna taste ya’”

y/n’s head was swimming, she’d never done anything like this but her body went weak under Harry’s rough hold and demanding voice and so she complied opening her mouth so his tongue could infiltrate. She wasn’t really skilled in the kissing department; she’d only kissed one person before and it was nothing like this. Harry didn’t mind her clumsy, clueless movements he found it even hotter that she didn’t know what she was doing and he was the one cracking away at her purity. His heart was pumping, his fingers tangled in her hair as he tugged her by it to get her to move where he wanted her, it was hot. So fucking hot.

When he finally pulled away from the kiss he observed her. Plump lips now a flushed red, swollen and slick with her lingering lip gloss and their mixed spit. She was breathing heavily, eyes staring into his darkening ones. She looked amazing. “God…pet you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to fuckin’ do that” his tongue darted out to lick over his own lips frowning when he got a heavy taste of sticky lip-gloss , “gotta get this off yeh, it’s too sticky” his sleeve was pulled down to cover his palm whilst he rubbed the remaining product off her delicious lips before shuffling it back up to bunch at his elbows. “There, look a little dazed petal. Yeh alright?” Y/n nodded quickly at the question, smiling a little bit before kissing his nose and each of his cheeks then going back to his lips mimicking how he’d kissed her prior. The boy could hardly contain himself, taking over the kiss and pulling her hands off his face holding both her wrists in one of his hands yanking them above her head so she was completely bound. “No no no, little love. I make the rules hon, you don’t. I didn’t say to kiss me again did i? I didn’t say you could touch me, hmm? Being a bit naughty aren’t yeh baby?”

To say she was overwhelmed and a tad confused was accurate, she had really no experience in any sort of sexual situations all she knew is she was going to listen to Harry. His gaze was enough to melt her into submission. “Words Y/n, did I tell you to do those things?” his grip on her wrist tightened a bit, “No….no you didn’t tell me to…” his eyes were staring into hers a subtle hum exiting his throat. “Good girl, now tell me your sorry.” “I’m sorry, Harry” an adorable pout decorated her lips, Harry was loving this.

He let go of her hands, both of them falling into her lap where she folded them, making sure to follow the new rule of not touching without permission, waiting for what was going to happen next. Only a moment later did Y/n feel Harry’s right thumb pressing into her bottom lip, eyes jumping to meet his, “open” she complied, letting him slip his thumb past her lips to rest on her tongue, “Close, now suck.”

Her confused gaze met his stern one while she started suckling on his digit. She didn’t really understand why he wanted her to suck his thumb, regardless she did it.

It was taking everything in Harry to not bend the girl over and shove himself inside her, god he fucking wanted to but he had something else in mind. Something more sinful than two teenagers having premarital sex in a chapel, no he wanted to give the biggest ‘fuck you’ he could to the school, and the ‘god’ he was forced to submit to. He knew if all the preaching’s were true, this idea was his first-class ticket straight to the devil’s doorstep.

“Listen princess, you’re going to do what I say, okay?” Y/n gave a quick nod of her head, Harry scooting her off his lap and removing his thumb from her mouth as he guided her up the steps to of the pulpit where the priest usually gave his sermons, a holy pedestal of sorts but today it would get a new use.

“on your knees.” It wasn’t a request, it was an order. Harry stood in the center of the pulpit, the religious art work surrounding them did little to stop his ‘sinful’ desires. Desires of the flesh were the only thing on his mind.

Y/n was on her knees before him, looking up at her friend who had a smug sultry look on his beautiful face. His hands fumbled with his belt whilst he looked down at her.

“you’re going to pray to me now, angel.”

Y/n couldn’t believe she was really in this situation, kneeling under the podium in the pulpit where she hears sermons 5 days a week for 3 hours with Harry pulling his cock out. when he finally managed to get himself free a loud groan echoed in the sanctuary, one that made Y/n feel a tingle between her legs and salivate slightly. A strange new sensation she couldn’t describe, but she knew she liked it.

“open your mouth, sweetheart.”

Y/n had never seen Harry’s eye’s look so dark, his tone so demanding and his breathing so heavy. His cock loomed over her face, bobbing slightly with every beat of his heart whilst something clear and sticky was leaking from the tiny slit in the top of it webbing onto the underside of his tip. She was nervous, but she did as she was told opening her sweet little mouth so the older boy could guide the crown of his cock into the warm cavern of her virgin mouth. The sensation was the closest thing to heavenly Harry had ever felt in this room, her mouth was warm and wet. Tongue slightly textured and slick with the nice, thick spit that comes from the back corners of your mouth. It’s better than any lube you can buy truly. He instructed her to suck his flesh, hollowing her cheeks and massaging his prick with the flesh of her mouth for the very first time in her life.

“Holy fucking shit, doll…you sure this is yeh first time? Good little cock sucker aren’t yeh? On your pretty knees, praying to me now huh?” Harry could see his cock pushing into the side of her cheek as she nodded, her mouth stuffed full of his leaking member, and because Harry was Harry and liked to really make a statement he decided if he was going to hell for this, he might as well make it worth it.

His fingers plucked one of the small wooden crosses off of the staircase on the pulpit, it was a decoration dedicated to Christ yet he had other plans for it.

The boy took a step back from Y/n, moaning slightly at the sight of her following after his cock when it started slipping from her lips. She wanted it, she liked it and god he fucking did too but he couldn’t wait any longer to execute the idea that just tumbled into his mind. Harry snapped his fingers in front of the drooly lipped girl, getting her attention on his eyes instead of the cock she wanted so desperately back in her mouth. “Up, don’t be greedy yeh can finish me off when I’m done with yeh..” Harry lifted the girl by her underarms up onto the flat part of the pedestal, where a bible was sat opened to a scripture that was suddenly smothered by the doe eyed girls round plump ass. Harry wishes he could dig his teeth into it but that’s for another time.

Y/n didn’t resist at all when he tipped her back a bit, hiking her skirt up and spreading her legs. The only reaction she gave at first was a quick gasp when he ripped her school tights right at the crotch her white cotton panties now in his view. “cute” was mumbled under his breath as he toyed with the tiny pink bow stitched into the waistband of her panties, but soon they were gone as well pushed fully to the side to expose her cunt, a small smattering of light curls at the apex of her thighs. They looked soft, light and quite cute. He could tell they’d never been shaven off before by how soft they were, wasn’t a very course or thick section of hair. That was likely to come later in her life, but for now her cunt was the only thing he was willing to worship in the holy home of Christ.

“Fuckin’ beautiful…got a real nice little pussy, angel.” Y/n was past the point of being shy now, she was spread eagle perched on top of a open bible with her cunt on full display in front of her half naked friend. Modesty flew out the door a while ago. And so, she responded in a little whine and shimmy of her hips, feeling the cold air lapping at her hot center and cooling the slick that had collected between her folds that she didn’t even notice till now.

The boy thought he might have been in the midst of one of his wet dreams, the stereotypical catholic school girl splayed out in a chapel with his hungry eyes staring at her virgin cunt. He was trying his hardest to take a mental picture so he can relive this the next time he has a wank, but in this moment his plan was coming to fruition.

Harry held up the small wooden cross, holding it between his thumb and pointer finger. The piece of religious art was about as wide around as a taper candle and maybe a good 4 inches from the base to where it met the divider of the cross. Much smaller than his cock, but a good size to fuck his classmate with.

“Open.” His voice doomed after the stretch of silence, Y/n letting her lips fall open again gurgling a bit as the wooden cross was thrust into her mouth. Harry was purposefully being rough, pushing her gag reflex intentionally, “Gag on it, get it nice and wet. Do as I say y/n, m’ getting’ yeh throat to slick it up. Could shove it in yeh dry be glad I’m lubing it up pet.” With a few more jabs at her uvula the boy was content with the amount of thick spit that dripped down the object.

Y/n couldn’t help but squirm and mewl, feeling Harry split her labia. An audible clicking sound fell on their ears from the wetness adhering the folds of skin together, the sound gave a boost to his already prominent smirk. Once her engorged clit came into view Harry made a point to give it a few strong strokes with his thumb before pressing the end of the cross into the girl’s virgin opening. The sight was nothing short of filthy, completely sinful. He wouldn’t be surprised if the floor caved in and they fell straight to hell as he finally managed to press through her thin hymen gaining entry to the untouched inners of the girl.

The stinging caused Y/n to hiss slightly, her legs quivering as he finally made it inside her. A small streak of her purity stood out against the white wood. Harry couldn’t help but snicker to himself, he thought of Virgin Mary in this moment. Ironic right? The first thought into his mind when seeing Y/n’s virginal blood striping a cross was how this was a strange twist on the story of the savior’s mother.

His movements sped up considerably after the flimsy membrane of resistance was punctured. The cross now being plunged in and out of the girl’s sacred spot in quick succession while she gripped the railing behind her in an effort not to tumble off the stand.

“Would yeh look at that, might be the first girl in this school to get fucked with a cross, baby. Always knew you were special huh?” Harry migrated his hand down to thumb at her clit, the foreign sensation of something inside of her and a massaging of her pleasure organ had the girl pigeon toed and panting. Harry swears he’s never seen anything hotter than what he was doing in this moment. His arm was getting tired but he didn’t dare fucking stop. No, he decided he was going to violate the artwork until Y/n had her first orgasm clamping onto the now not so holy figurine.

Y/n could barely form a thought, pleasure wracking through her body and a strange sensation building inside of her. Harry mumbling filth to her was the icing on the cake, her body tipping over the edge. Her body went stiff before breaking out into shakes, vocal cords strained from the moans and yelps escaping her throat. Her first ever orgasm was the most intense feeling she had ever felt, and Harry almost came just watching her suddenly remembering his abandoned cock.

Y/n was scrambling to regain control over her body, pushing Harry’s wrists away with a slick popping noise following as the cross was removed from her body. Harry leaned down to kiss the panting girl, dribbling spit into her open mouth while she gasped for air. “good girl, you’re such a good girl.” His ring clad fingers pet her cheek lightly, the other hand sitting her up and tugging her forward giving her a shove to get her back onto her knees.

“Now, time to finish your prayer, love” His hand pushed his cock back into the cavern of her mouth, she suckled hard on him. Tongue lapping at the underside of his cock, suction hard on the crown of him. The way she gave harsh spongy movements of her tongue and cheeks had his knees weak having to hold himself up on the podium. “Shit, Christ pet I’m gonna cum”.

Harry felt his climax rapidly approaching, taking both of his hands and putting them on the back of her head forcing the entirety of his cock down the girls sore throat. The muscles already tired from all the noise she made with it, but she only dug her fingers into his thighs as he spilled down her tight throat.

Harsh breathing along with Harry’s pleasured chuckle were the only noises filling the room as the pair removed themselves from each other. Harry getting his control back, putting his cock away before pulling Y/n to her feet giving her a few smacking kisses as he helped straighten her out tossing her ruined tights into the trashcan.

“Think we took more than a fiver babe, guess we gotta finish now huh?”

His smirk was wide while he put the cross right back in it’s place, cum still dripping off of it.

[nightwishesworld]

Hello! I love your writing and if you do take request, might I ask for a family night (including Heisenberg) playing Monopoly please? (OC is already in a loving relationship with Alcina and the girls love her)

Oh boy anon, this was by far the most difficult thing I’ve ever written. It’s not my best cause I know zero about the game so I had to try and work around it. Hope you enjoy anyway!

It's that time of the week again in the Dimitrescu castle. The most sacred and anticipated time of the week; not hunting, not harvesting, not even wine tasting... it's game night.

As soon as the sun sets the girls swarm in the drawing room to ready the space for the night's antics. Daniela digs out the game while Sorine opens all the curtains, letting the warm light of the moon shine through, and Victoria lights the fire and torches. It became a ritual not long after you moved into the castle. The girls often confided in you how they wished to spend more quality time with their mother on more than one occasion. Hunting maidens and harvesting their blood was fun, but they've been doing that forever! It was no longer as thrilling as it once was, not it felt more like a chore that needed to be done. And you can't count how many times Alcina admitted to feeling guilty about not giving her daughters more of her time. So when you pitched the idea of a routine game night, you got very little pushback.

The only one who hesitated was Daniela, and only because she insisted on inviting Uncle Heisenberg, which was totally fine. You get along rather well with the werewolf and enjoy his visits. Getting in touch with him was rather difficult though. Most of his visits were spontaneous reasons to see his favorite nieces, while the other few were strictly business-related held by Alcina. It took her some time to locate her brother, but it also gave you some time to make your way back down to your old home in the village to gather your collection of board games and puzzles. Some were missing a few pieces or cards, but they would have to do for now. Worst case scenario you just buy new ones.

When Alcina finally got ahold of Heisenberg he eagerly accepted and promised to start making his way back to the castle; the girls were thrilled. After all, it wouldn't be proper family bonding time without good ol' Uncle Heis.

In the beginning, it was decided that everyone took turns deciding what game they were going to play. The cycle started with you of course, since the whole thing was your idea, then went from oldest to youngest. Everyone had a blast playing against each other and laughing at one another. You can't remember a time you'd seen Alcina laugh so hard, she was almost brought to tears. Everything was just peachy until Victoria, ever the mischief-maker decided you should play Monopoly. The poor Dimitrescu's had no idea what brand of hellish gameplay awaited them. Only an hour and a half in and Daniela had successfully bankrupt her own mother. The proud look plastered on the girl's face would have been more amusing if it weren't for Alcina losing her temper. That was the one time you couldn't wait for the night to end, and hopefully, never play it again.

Much later that night in bed with Alcina curled up on your chest you woke with a chill running down your spine. It's Daniela's turn to pick the game.

Which is how you ended up lounging on your favorite chair by the fire watching Daniela and Heisenberg setting up the board and organizing the money. Again.

Alcina is sat on the floor next to you leaning comfortably against your chair sipping her third glass of wine. "Why are we doing this again?"

You give her a sympathetic smile. "You know why, dearest, it's game night."

She only rolls her eyes at you. "You know what I mean, draga mea. Why monopoly?"

"It was Dani's turn to chose the game. It'll be fun, don't worry Al."

"Yeah Mother," Victoria giggles. "What's wrong with monopoly?"

"You mean other than how overly competitive and childish you all become?"

You were about to open your mouth when Heisenberg started to laugh. "You say 'you all' as if you aren't just as bad."

Alcina chose to ignore him in favor of her wine.

"Ah! Mother's just upset cause she knows I'm gonna make her go bankrupt again," Daniela smiled as her sisters snickered. "I forget, what did you say you were going to do to me, Mother?"

This caused the chorus of giggles to erupt into laughter. "She said she was going to disown you!" Sorine choked out.

"Forging an alliance against your mother is just plain rude! And you-" she points to Heisenberg, "you stole my companion!"

Laughter erupted in the drawing room. You leaned against Alcina's arm as you lost the ability to breathe. "I did not steal them," Heisenberg handed you both your starting $1500. "I was in a financial bind and y/n was willing to make a deal."

"And just like that our alliance was born." You lean forward and fist-bumped the werewolf. "Let's let Al join us tonight, Heis, now we'll be even against the girls."

He ponders for a moment before noticing his sister's golden eyes burning into him and hastily shakes her hand. "Welcome to the team, sis."

Alcina sighed and accepted his hand in a near bone-crushing grip. You tried not to notice the man wincing. "About damn time."

You shot Alcina finger guns with a wink and "pew pew" and she full-heartedly laughs. "What on Hell's earth was that?"

"A dumb human thing, don't worry about it."

"Horray!" Daniela grinned. "Now Mother has a fighting chance."

"Now girls," you chided. "Let's try to keep this friendly tonight, ok? As funny as it was, and it was," Alcina glares at you from behind her wine glass. "We're going to let it go now. No more ganging up on your mother."

The girls gave an innocent smile, "of course y/n."

"Wouldn't dream of it, y/n."

"Cross my heart hope to die!"

Wait, aren't they already dead?  You shook your head. Doesn't matter.

"Are we using the same pieces as last time?"

"Might as well," you saw before Daniela can get a word out. "We were all happy with our tokens last time, yes?"

Daniela huffed and crossed her arms. "I want to be the dog!"

"Aw come on, Dani," Sorine says. "I think it's only fair Uncle Heis gets to be the dog."

"Since, ya know, he is a dog," Victoria smirks.

To say the atmosphere of the room was intense would be an understatement. But, you couldn't be entirely unhappy with the course of events either since your alliance was winning. Victoria is bankrupt and Daniela has been sitting in jail for the past three turns. Alcina refuses to sell her Get out of Jail Free card. Oh, how the tables have turned. Daniela, much like her dearest mother, is far too stubborn for her own good. She refuses to pay Heisenberg the $50 to get out of jail and Alcina simply refuses to bail her out. Petty revenge, but entertaining nonetheless. It's after midnight now and you're finding it difficult not to doze off against the vampire's arm. Heisenberg is awake pacing around the room as he lost interest in the stalemate already. He was nice enough to take his heavy boots off so he wouldn't disturb Sorine and Victoria's slumber. His repetitive pace was starting to lull you to sleep. You allow yourself to close your eyes for a minute, listening to Alcina's breathing and Heisenberg's hushed stomping circling around you.

The fire was reduced to crackling embers and you were left shivering under Heisenberg's coat. Out of desperation, you kiss the top of Alcina's gloved hand. "Nu putem termina în dimineața? Hai să mergem la culcare." You know she loves it when you talk in Romanian to her. Hopefully, it will give you the advantage you need to end this ridiculousness.

"I've got her cornered, y/n. A little while longer and she'll crack."

Daniela only squinted her eyes and hissed.

You were about to give up and let yourself fall asleep on Alcina when Heisenberg came stomping over, pure anger painted on his face, and kicked the coffee table over. Sorine and Victoria were startled awake by the crashing sound and snowfall of cards. It was honestly the most magical thing that happened all night. He shouted something along the lines of "Go to bed!" but you couldn't make it out over Daniela and Alcina's screams. They pay you little mind as they chase Heisenberg out of the room and down the corridor, the sounds of vases and antique decor crashing following them as they go.

Sorine stands over you looking at you through bleary eyes, extending her hand to help you up. "Bed?"

A lion's yawn overcomes you and you smile. "Bed."

[xpao-bearx]

《Original post here》

Part 2 HERE

SUMMARY: [Supernatural TWD AU] In which Negan is a kinky incubus, Rick Grimes is your secret guardian angel, and Daryl Dixon is a gruff monster/demon hunter. Three drastically different men who can only agree on one thing: making you theirs.

PAIRINGS: Reader x Negan, Reader x Rick Grimes, Reader x Daryl Dixon (Polyamorous Ships)

RATING: Mature/18+/Romance & Smut. Please be prepared and do NOT report.

NOTE: This is actually my first time ever writing an xReader story series as well as writing on Tumblr (I usually only write on Wattpad). As such, it probs won't be perfect though I would SERIOUSLY appreciate your *respectful* feedback and support!

I understand writing xReader content can get a lil tricky, so please just keep in mind that not everything Y/N says or does would be something that you'd do IRL or even approve of. Also, sometimes I may not help but put a teeny bit of myself in Y/N...

Lastly, I recently got back into the TWD fandom after a looong ass time and I'm taking a while re-watching the whole show. So I apologize in advance if my portrayal of any of the characters are rusty or I may not remember too much of the events from the show, but I promise to do my very best and hope y'all enjoy~!! \(^o^)/

DEDICATED TO: The wonderful @blccdyknuckles and @negans-attagirl 💖

"Heavenly Sins"

Part 1

The sounds of laughter and easygoing chatter filled your ears as you walked closer to the church, a light breeze blowing through your F/C floral dress and the sun blinding your eyes. It was Sunday, most residents of the small town of Alexandria having gathered for mass.

It was a day like any other; peaceful and happy, children giggling and chasing each other around as their parents socialized outside before church could start.

Your heels clacking rhythmically on the pavement, you were just about to enter the building before a familiar voice called out.

"Y/N!"

Spinning, a huge smile instantly reached your ears as you saw none other than Carl Grimes waving enthusiastically at you as he jumped out of a car. From the driver's seat, his father soon followed as he stepped out.

Rick Grimes--dedicated sheriff of this fine town. His usual uniform forgone, instead replaced with a casual navy coloured suit. His baby blues met your E/C, flashing you a bright smile of his own that rivalled the sun itself.

Carl was running towards you now, and once in front he gave you a big hug.

"Settle down, cowboy! It's as if you haven't seen me in forever." You chuckled, ruffling Carl's hair affectionately.

"That's 'cause it did feel like forever." Carl pouted, eventually letting go as he looked up at you.

Before you can reply, Rick patted Carl's head and greeted you. "Hey, Y/N. How are things?" He asked in that endearing Southern accent of his.

"Just fine." You nodded, grinning before you couldn't help but let your gaze wander around a bit. "No Judith?"

It was then that Rick's smile faltered, but just barely. You nearly didn't catch it. "No. She's with her mom."

Rick was divorced from his ex-wife, Lori, after he discovered her cheating on him with his also now ex-bestfriend Shane Walsh. After the divorce, Shane and Lori quickly moved to the neighbouring community of Woodbury together and agreed on joint custody of the kids.

It really made your blood boil; you've interacted with Lori only a few times before so you didn't really have much of an opinion on her...that is, until, you learned what had happened between her and Rick. You knew it wasn't any of your business, but you cared about Rick a lot and he sure as hell didn't deserve to get cheated on.

"Oh." Was all you could say, quite stupidly. Your cheeks reddened, mentally slapping yourself before clearing your throat. "Will I see her in the daycare tomorrow, though?" You were a daycare teacher and even though you loved all of the kids, Judith was your favourite. She was simply such a sweetheart.

Rick nodded, his smile softening. "You got it."

You couldn't continue the conversation as the bells rang, making you jump out of your skin. Carl, noticing this, laughed which made you playfully roll your eyes before slinging an arm around him as all of you went inside.

♡♡♡

You took your place near the back of the church with Carl and Rick. Once everyone was settled and done singing, the service began and Father Gabriel stood on top of the podium. A few minutes into his sermon, the interruption of a motorcycle revving loudly outside sliced through the air. Gabriel flinched in surprise, and it was obvious he was desperately trying to keep his cool. Finally, when it was silent again, you found yourself biting back a smile knowing all too well who had caused the ruckus.

It seems Rick knew, too, judging from how his jaw clenched and his hands turned into tight fists.

The doors were thrown open, making Gabriel flinch once more and some of the congregation turning in the pews to look. But poor Gabriel quickly fumbled with his Bible, raising his voice just a tad to regain their attention.

There was a low whistle accompanying the approaching footsteps, but the congregation did their damn hardest to ignore the latest visitor.

"Damn... I assumed the church would be a lot more welcoming than this." A husky voice whispered, and you at last couldn't hold back as a smile broke through.

"Negan." You whispered back, turning slightly in your seat to see he has taken the spot behind you. His leather clad arms lackadaisically resting on your chair, the musky scent of his cologne invading your senses oh so wonderfully. "Fancy seeing you here."

"What? Is it really that surprising, darlin'?" He grinned, presenting a row of perfectly straight white teeth. "I go to church."

"Not all the time." You pointed out.

"Ah..." He chuckled softly, hazel eyes twinkling. "That's 'cause Father Creepy McGee over there is just that. Creepy. As. Shit."

You bit the inside of your cheeks, suppressing your laughter. True, Gabriel did have his moments, but he wasn't that bad. That didn't change the fact that Negan knew exactly how to tickle your funny bone, though.

He was new to Alexandria. It was a lovely town, but since it was relatively small not a lot of people want to move here not unless it was families looking for their children to grow up in a safe environment. Which was why it was quite a shock to find out that a single man like Negan chose this destination, and even more so when he took everyone aback with his infamous pottymouth and rather inappropriate charisma.

He had moved just a couple of houses down from yours, and you made it your mission to befriend him. Right from the get-go, he had piqued your interest and curiousity. He was different from everyone else--even possessing an air of mystery about him--and that definitely intrigued you. And also, perhaps you were just too nice and didn't want him to feel outcasted. Although, that didn't seem like an issue to him at all.

"Want one?" You were brought back to reality when you saw Negan's hand outstretched with a pack of cigarettes.

"Dude, we're in church." You reprimanded, frowning.

Negan didn't say anything, only cocking a brow and still with that same shit-eating grin. You sighed, finally giving in as you swiftly grabbed one and stashed it away in your purse for later.

"Y/N." You turned to the left, Rick's icy gaze piercing you. "Pay attention."

"R-Right. Sorry..." You mumbled sheepishly.

Carl, who was sitting in the middle of you and Rick, had dozed off. Rick nudged him, but the brunette only groaned softly and snuggled into Rick's chest. Defeated, the sheriff sighed and was just about to listen again to Gabriel before Negan cut in.

"Rick!" Negan purposely raised his voice, knowing it would get a rise out of the other man. "Didn't even see ya there. Howdy, cowboy!"

Rick grimaced, and it looked like he was just going to ignore Negan though he knew that if he did that then Negan would just irritate him even further. "Good to see you, Negan." He forced himself to say.

"Only you can say that while giving me such a deadly side eye, Grimes." Negan snickered. "How have you been? How's the wife?"

Rick flushed, his fists in a tight ball again and it looked like his nails would be digging into his skin. You abruptly swung into action, placing a hand on Rick's own.

"Rick..." You said gently. "It's okay. Calm down."

Rick did, his shoulders drooping as if a heavy weight had been lifted. He can barely pay any attention to Gabriel now, then you suddenly stood up and grabbed Negan's arm.

"We need to talk. Now."

"What, we going for a quickie?" Negan smirked, but that soon faded when he saw your serious expression. He sighed dramatically, reaching his full height as he towered over you before following you out.

At this point, you didn't care if people saw what transpired or would even start gossiping. No one, not even Negan, was allowed to harass Rick. He has helped you through so much shit--more than you'd like to admit--and you at least owed him this much.

Once outside, next to where Negan parked his motorcycle, you exploded. "What the fuck is with you?! You leave Rick alone, or I swear to fucking Christ I will--"

"Woah, woah, woah! Hold your horses, missy!" Negan guffawed, his hands up in mock surrender. "I mean, I like 'em feisty, but goddamn! Watch your fucking language."

"Tch. You're one to talk."

"Did you just scoff at me?" He raised his brows, putting his hands in his pockets as he slowly drew closer to you. A devilish grin tugged at the corners of his mouth, tilting his head slightly. "No one's ever fucking scoffed at me and didn't regret it soon after."

You frowned, letting out a huff as you met his gaze challengingly. "As if you'd do anything to me."

He was silent for several moments before chuckling, leaning back against his motorcycle. "You're right. I have too much of a soft spot for ya." He pulled out a cigarette, lighting it then taking a drag. He drew his head upwards, puffing out the smoke. "Whaddya say we just forgive and forget? I truly am sorry. You can even tell Rick that I am metaphorically down on my goddamn knees begging for forgiveness~"

"I'm not forgiving or forgetting anything until you actually face Rick and apologize yourself." You muttered. And without another word, you spun on your heel and strutted back inside the church with your head held high.

Negan's intent stare lingered where your ass had just been, taking another long drag and letting out a small laugh to himself.

His eyes suddenly glowed a crimson red, a smirk playing on his lips.

Oh, he really did pick a GREAT one.

[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for being Tony Stark’s Daughter (The Aftermath)

Tony Stark x daughter!reader

warnings:

a/n: y/n is about 17 or 18; i cried while writing this. sorry this is really long!!! pls forgive me 🥺

prompt: takes place from a3 to smffh

The Early Years (1) The Teenage Years (2) The Intense Years (3) Continued (5)

let’s start on a happy note! ahahah

so for a while, earth was calm

you, pepper, and tony got to be a family for a while

wedding planning!

of course you got to try the ben&jerry’s ice cream named after your dad: Stark Raving Hazelnuts

“it’s not fair that you got ice cream named after you and i didn’t”

“well, when you grow up to be as awesome as me, maybe you’ll get your own ice cream flavor”

developing nanotech suits together for a Bonding Experience(tm)

speechless after the first test

“dad, this is...”

“the coolest thing to ever exist?”

“yes!!”

yall ready for some shit?

the day that ebony maw invaded was pretty—what’s the word? interesting? no. well, yes, but...HORRIBLE.

it all started when you got the call from your dad

“y/n, incoming call from ‘big fat meanie’”

“god, i really have to change that. okay, JOSHIE, answer it. hey, dad? what’s up?”

“hey, kid! you know that weird ass building on bleecker street? how fast can you get here?”

“JOSH can you track FRIDAY really quick? lets see how far dad is...uh, okay, be there in five, see ya”

taking your suit for a spin and realizing how GREAT it was to be able to basically fold up your suit and put it in your back pocket

knocking on the door and it opened on its own, it was kinda cool

“is this a museum? cool.”

bruce turning around to see you after about three years and giving you an awkward smile and a wave while you stood frozen around the wizard-guys

“y/n, god, you’ve grown up!”

charging into him for a long overdue hug

“you don’t know how much i missed you. it’s been chaotic without you”

“i can...i can only imagine”

a debriefing on the situation you were about to face, and bonus! having to play the catch-up game with bruce

“just call him, dad. we need as much help as we can. steve will understand”

rushing outside to face off with some ugly-ass aliens

“oh nooo, it’s roger smith from american dad”

bruce: 👀, stephen: 👀, wong: 👀, tony: 👏👏🥰 that’s my girl

simultaneous nanosuit unveiling

“you ready for this one, pops?”

“of course! ive waited years to kick some more alien ass”

montage of you and tony getting your asses beat together (as a family <3)

peter showing up

“give me one good reason why i shouldn’t send you back to that school bus”

“because i’m good company?”

“whatever, just listen to whatever dad has to say, i forfeit my responsibilities over you”

pew pew, repulsors, pew, tiny rockets! fun! action! destroying new york again and again. good times...

until JOSHUA gave you notice that your dad was flying high

“call him. now.”

“hey! how’s it going down there?”

“dad, you know how i feel about you and space”

“i know, i know. i just...i gotta take care of this. keep pepper safe for your old man, okay?”

“i lo—l—ve y—”

“y/n? y/n?! i love you! shit!”

“we lost connection with her, sir”

trying to call peter

“call failed, y/n. should i try again?”

“i’m gonna kill them...”

walking through the rubble to find bruce, the only sensible man you know

taking him to the avengers compound asap to get to rhodey and figure out what comes next

meanwhile, tony was dealing with space and another teenager

and worrying a lot about leaving you on earth

“i mean, mr. stark, y/n’s one of the most capable people i know. she’s probably trying to fix this whole mess as we speak”

“i didn’t get to tell her i love her”

“oh...”

having a lovely meeting with thaddeus ross with rhodey, having a lovely time watching them passive-aggresively argue until your former teammates arrived

having to patiently (and professionally) wait for ross to hang up before running into them for a hug

“holy shit, you guys have no idea how bad i’ve wanted to see you. it sucks not being all together anymore”

“i know, y/n. we’ve all missed you.” -cap

“a lot” -nat added

bruce’s little entrance that was sure to bring some awkwardness

you, secretly freaking out about your dad

sam was the one that found you crying after you “stepped out” for a few minutes too long

“oh, y/n,” he was contemplating grabbing someone else to step in, but decided to sit next to you in the hallway, “i’m sorry, kiddo. i can’t promise you anything, but your dad is a fighter. a big pain in the ass. i think your odds are good”

laughing through your tears

“yeah, you’re right. thanks, sammy”

he gave you a little hug while you calmed down

getting to business, the ass-kicking kind

as the wise natasha romanoff once said to your father, you were being “uncharacteristically non-hyper verbal”

your mind did this funny thing...wandered into places it really should not go

the talk about sacrificing vision led to wakanda, where you had a swell time patrolling

“guys! we’ve got incoming. a lot of incoming”

well-deserved uncle/niece team up. who wouldve thought?

you would have nightmares about these aliens for years to come

“you get to die, and you get to die! everybody gets to die!”

“y/n, what did we talk about?” -rhodey

“using humor as a defense mechanism makes the team uncomfortable...”

covering the girls 😌 because we gotta have those all-girl teamups, uh-huh?

some more blasting

thor made his comeback and you just could not miss it

“hi, thor!”

you landed next to him and your helmet receded

“well, hello, miss y/n! good to see you again! my, you got taller...oh! meet my friends: rabbit and tree”

having a “what the actual fuck” moment upon seeing thanos for the first time

and flying at him from behind with a massive nanotech blade ready to kill this purple bastard

but he grabbed your arm and flung you into the dirt, that was gonna leave a mark

“i just had to make a suit when i was ten...no one stopped me, huh? i couldn’t be elon’s kid, he was a nice guy”

watching thanos snap his fingers and looking around to see dust floating through the air and thanos retreat

“rhodey? uncle rhodey?!”

“i’m right here, kid, don’t worry”

he grabbed your hand while you were dusting

“tell my dad i love him, promise?”

fading away and leaving rhodey with your last words

he was mad before anything else

all he could think about was a promise your dad made him take years back

“rhodey, you keep my daughter safe no matter what, promise?”

the avengers recooperating at the compound, waiting to figure out whether any of the space-crew survived

they had to let pepper know that you didn’t make it, she was a mess upon hearing that news

tony finally making his way back to earth

and stumbling out of that ship

“where’s y/n? where is she?!”

“tony, tony, calm down”

“dont tell me to calm down! where is my daughter?!”

“she made me promise to tell you thay she loves you”

tony knew the answer by now, he lost his mind over your death

it didn’t feel right not having you by his side, for the past 18 years you’ve been with him

after a long period of recovery, tony and pepper moved on, got married, built a home, had a new daughter...

tony made sure there was a spare room for you

he put all the things you left behind in it

there were so many photos of you in the house

and he’d show your sister, morgan, all of them. he wanted morgan to know her sister

“that’s y/n when she built her first robot. it snuck up on me a few times. it went ‘boo!’”

morgan loved the stories about you, but she didn’t understand why she couldn’t see you

“when do i get to meet her?”

“uh...maybe someday, sweetie”

after being unbothered for almost 5 years, the remaining avengers came back with a plan that was so tempting, he just wanted his little girl back

cracking under pressure and telling pepper that he couldn’t ignore this mission because it was his chance to get you back

“get her back, tony”

“you think so?”

“i miss her, too.”

and so it began, he made it his mission to get you back

peeking at the wallet picture of you on his shoulders when you were so little

tony travelling to 2012; loki’s invasion

and there you were, the sassy genius 12 year old that he missed so much

“we’ve got this, tony, we’ll bring her home” -scott

and then things went badly and also 2012 tony went into cardiac arrest and 2012 y/n dove onto the floor to tend to him

“dad? give us some room, would you?!”

2023 tony smiling at how much he missed you worrying about him and how reckless he was

but also...the mission kinda went bad so that sucked

push it a bit farther back and now tony was with grandpa stark! asking how to be a dad and all that!

he could barely stand still waiting for you to come back to him, god he missed you more than he thought

and after a bit of hard work, it was time to snap

just like that, you were back in wakanda, puzzled by the gap in time before one of dr. strange’s portals opened in front of you

and then you were in the ruins of the avengers compound

“JOSHUA, can you locate my dad?”

“i think you’ll be able to see him”

“wow, i cant believe i programmed your cocky artificial ass”

“i think you can”

seeing your dad flying high and patching into the comms

“miss me, old man?”

and then he hit the gas to get to you and when this man hugged you, you almost couldn’t let go

“i’m so sorry, y/n. god, i’m sorry. these last five years...i was so lost without you”

“it’s okay, dad, i’m here now”

getting shot at during your reunion

“son of a bitch...we’re having a family moment here, asshole!”

yes, im gonna say it again. of course i am! and.........father/daugher team-up

the last one

“peter, is that you? you asshole! i cant believe you went to space without me!”

“missed you too!”

rhodey!! cant forget about uncle rhodey!!

“you gave my dad the message, right?”

“it was your dying wish, of course i did!”

“great. don’t forget i love you, too, rhodey!”

“couldn’t let me forget it”

lest we forget that pepper joined the fight?

plot twist: (step)mother/daughter team-up

mother/father/daugher team up!!!! ultimate stark machine!!!!!!!

and then you left him alone for 5 minutes and he’s got the infinity stones and you know it’s the last time you’re going to see him and you cant decide what your next move is and you’re just frozen and you cant catch your breath and he snaps and your heart plummets

you have to rush to his side, the last time you can sit beside his tired body and let him know that its going to be okay

“hey dad, it’s okay, we’re gonna be fine. thank you for everything”

peter grabbing your hand as you both sobbed next to your dad, feeling robbed of your time with him

pepper brought you home where she told you all about the five years you missed

both of you just cried harder than you’ve ever cried before

“so i have a sister?”

morgan was so happy to meet you, she couldn’t contain herself, practically latched onto you

and she didn’t fully understand what happened to tony

you saw your new room for the first time and didn’t leave it for a while, occasionally pepper or morgan would pop in

morgan actually crawled into bed with you a few times

the funeral was one of the worst days of your life

the remnants of your young life pulled back together for one day

then you hid back in your room before you heard a knock

“who is it?”

“it’s happy”

“come in”

“hey, kiddo. me and morgan are gonna get some cheeseburgers, you wanna come?”

she really was a stark

after a long hibernation, you started to get back into the groove of your old life

but the press was brutal and harsh, you were bombarded with questions regarding your dad

it took everything not to explode on camera

you stayed in contact with the rest of the avengers, mourning your dead, keeping the support system, staying a family

it was all you could get...for now

[notbecauseofvictories]

Hi Sarah! My friend and I are starting a bookclub (as much as you can with two people who aren't pressed for deadlines) and I was wondering if you have any recommendations? (That is if you have time to rec anything!) We're starting off with Deathless and have Fitzgerald next in line somewhere but I def want to try to expand the genres we read and tbh from years of following you, I trust your judgement

I don’t...like giving recommendations? At least not directly, it seems like too much opportunity for getting it wrong. Everybody has their own tastes, after all, and even the best of friends don’t necessarily vibe with what you vibe with. (I’ve experienced this with multiple friends, so I know what I’m talking about.) Truly, one of the reasons that my whole “I’m going to get back into reading for pleasure!” push has been so successful is that I only bother with books that interest me, and stop reading when they fail to catch my attention.

But I’ve now read at least 60 books in 2020, which is approximately 60 more than I’ve read in the years prior, so I’m happy to share that. Below is my list of recent reads, beginning to end, along with a very short review---I keep this list in the notes app on my phone, so they have to be. Where I’ve talked about a book in a post, I’ve tried to link to it. 

Peruse, and if something catches your interest I hope you enjoy!

2020 Reading List

Crazy Rich Asians series, Kevin Kwan (here)

Blackwater, Michael McDowell (here; pulpy horror and southern gothic in one novel; come for the monster but stay for the family drama.)

Fire and Hemlock, Diane Wynne Jones (here; weird and thoughtful, in ways I’m still thinking about)

The Secret History, Donna Tartt

Gone Girl, Gillian Flynn (here; loved it! I can see why people glommed onto it)

Swamplandia!, Karen Russell (unfinished, I could not get past the first paragraph; just....no.)

Rules of Scoundrels series, Sarah MacLean (an enjoyable romp through classic romancelandia, though if you read through 4 back to back you realize that MacLean really only writes 1 type of relationship and 1 type of sexual encounter, though I do appreciate insisting that the hero go down first.)

The Bear and the Nightingale, Katherine Arden (here)

Dread Nation, Justine Ireland (great, put it with Stealing Thunder in terms of fun YA fantasy that makes everything less white and Eurocentric)

The Haunting of Hill House, Shirley Jackson (VERY good. haunting good.)

Tell My Horse, Zora Neale Hurston (I read an interesting critique of Hurston that said she stripped a lot of the radicalism out of black stories - these might be an example, or counterexample. I haven't decided yet.)

The Rose MacGregor Drinking and Admiration Society, T. Kingfisher (fun!)

St. Lucy’s Home for Girls Raised by Wolves, Karen Russell (some of these short stories are wonderful; however, Swamplandia's inspiration is still unreadable, which is wild.)

17776, Jon Bois (made me cry. deeply human. A triumph of internet storytelling)

The Girl with All the Gifts, M. R. Carey (deeply enjoyable. the ending is a bittersweet kick in the teeth, and I really enjoyed the adults' relationships)

The Door in the Hedge and Other Stories, Robin McKinley (enjoyable, but never really resolved into anything.)

The Hero and the Crown, Robin McKinley (fun, but feels very early fantasy - or maybe I've just read too many of the subsequent knock-offs.)

Mrs. Caliban, Rachel Ingalls (weird little pulp novel.)

All Systems Red, Martha Wells (enjoyable, but I don't get the hype. won't be looking into the series unless opportunity arises.)

A People's History of Chicago, Kevin Coval (made me cry. bought a copy. am still thinking about it.)

The Sol Majestic, Ferrett Steinmetz (charming, a sf novel mostly about fine dining)

House in the Cerulean Sea, TJ Klune (immensely enjoyable read, for all it feels like fic with the serial numbers filed off)

The Au Pair, Emma Rous (not bad, but felt like it wanted to be more than it is)

The Night Tiger, Yangsze Choo (preferred this to Ghost Bride; I enjoy a well-crafted mystery novel and this delivered)

The Left Hand of Darkness, Ursula Le Guin (unfinished, I cannot fucking get into Le Guin and should really stop trying)

The Ghost Bride, Yangsze Choo (enjoyable, but not nearly as fun as Ghost Bride - the romance felt very disjointed, and could have used another round of editing)

Temptation's Darling, Johanna Lindsey (pure, unadulterated id in a romance novel, complete with a girl dressing as a boy to avoid detection)

Social Creature, Tara Isabella Burton (a strange, dark psychological portrait; really made a mark even though I can't quite put my finger on why)

The Girl on the Train, Paula Hawkins (slow at first, but picks up halfway through and builds nicely; a whiff of Gone Girl with the staggered perspectives building together)

Stealing Thunder, Alina Boyden (fun Tortall vibes, but set in Mughal India)

The Traitor Baru Cormorant; The Monster Baru Commorant, The Tyrant Baru Cormorant, Seth Dickinson (LOVE this, so much misery, terrible, ecstatic; more here)

This Is How You Lose the Time War, Amal El-Mohtar, Max Gladstone (epistolary love poetry, vicious and lovely; more here)

The Elementals, Michael McDowell

Gideon the Ninth, Tamsyn Muir (didn't like this one as much as I thought I would; narrator's contemporary voice was so jarring against the stylized world and action sequences read like the novelization for a video game; more here)

Finna, Nino Cipri (a fun little romp through interdimensional Ikea, if on the lighter side)

Magic for Liars, Sarah Gailey (engrossing, even if I could see every plot twist coming from a mile away)

Desdemona and the Deep, C. S. E. Cooney (enjoyed the weirdness & the fae bits, but very light fare)

A Blink of the Screen, Terry Pratchett (admittedly just read this for the Discworld bits)

A Memory Called Empire, Arkady Martine (not as good about politics and colonialism as Baru, but still a powerful book about The Empire, and EXTREMELY cool worldbuilding that manages to be wholly alien and yet never heavily expositional)

Blackfish City, Sam J. Miller (see my post)

Last Werewolf, Glen Duncan (didn't finish, got to to first explicit sex scene and couldn't get any further)

Prosper's Demon, KJ Parker (didn't work for me...felt like a short story that wanted to be fleshed out into a novel)

The Secret Garden, Frances Hodgson Burnett

His Majesty's Dragon, Naomi Novik (extremely fun, even for a reader who doesn't much like Napoleonic stories)

Three Parts Dead, Max Gladstone (fun romp - hard to believe that this is the same author as Time War though you can see glimmers of it in the imagery here)

A Scot in the Dark, Sarah MacLean (palette cleanser, she does write a good romance novel even it's basically the same romance novel over and over)

The Resurrectionist, E. B. Hudspeth (borrowed it on a whim one night, kept feeling like there was something I was supposed to /get/ about it, but never did - though I liked the Mutter Museum parallels)

Stories of Your Life and Others, Ted Chiang (he's a better ideas guy than a writer, though Hell Is The Absence of God made my skin prickle all over)

Gods of Jade and Shadow, Silvia Moreno-Garcia (fun, very much a throwback to my YA days of fairytale retellings, though obviously less European)

Four Roads Cross, Max Gladstone (it turns out I was a LOT more fond of Tara than I initially realized - plus this book had a good Pratchett-esque pacing and reliance on characterization)

Get in Trouble, Kelly Link (reading this after the Chiang was instructive - Link is such a better storyteller, better at prioritizing the human over the concept)

Gods Behaving Badly, Marie Phillips

Soulless; Changeless; Blameless, all by Gail Carriger (this series is basically a romance novel with some fantasy plot thrown in for fun; extremely charming and funny)

Black Leopard, Red Wolf, Marlon James (got about 1/3 of the way through and had to wave the white flag; will try again because I like the plot and the worldbuilding; the tone is just so hard to get through)

Pew, Catherine Lacey (a strange book, I'm still thinking about it; a good Southern book, though)

Nuremberg Diary, GM Gilbert (it took me two months to finish, and was worth it)

River of Teeth, Sarah Gailey (I wanted to like this one a lot more than I actually did; would have made a terrific movie but ultimately was not a great novel. Preferred Magic for Liars.)

Mexican Gothic, Silvia Moreno-Garcia (extremely fun, though more trippy than Gods and the plot didn't work as well for me - though it was very original)

The New Voices of Fantasy, Peter S. Beagle (collected anthology, with some favorites I've read before Ursula Vernon's "Jackalope Wives", "Hungry Daughters of Starving Mothers" "The Husband Stitch"; others that were great new finds "Selkie Stories are for Losers" from Sofia Satamar and "A Kiss With Teeth" from Max Gladstone and "The Philosophers" from Adam Ehrlich Sachs)

[starrtoon]

When I die, put my ashes in the trash bag

I don't care where they go

Don't waste your money on my gravestone

I'm more concerned about my soul

Everybody's gon' die

Don't everybody live though

Sometimes I look up to the sky

And wonder do You see us down here?

Oh Lord, oh Lord, do You see us down here?

Oh Lord, oh Lord

Listen, yeah everybody wants change

Don't nobody wanna change though

Don't nobody wanna pray

Till they got something to pray for

Now everybody's gon' die

But don't everybody live though

Sometimes I look up to the sky

And wonder do you see us down here?

Oh Lord, oh Lord, do You see us down here?

Oh Lord, oh Lord

It's easy to blame God but harder to fix things

We look in the sky like, "why ain't You listening?"

Watching the news in our living rooms on the big screens

And talking 'bout "if God's really real, then where is He?"

You see the same God that you saying might not even exist

Becomes real to us, but only when we dying in bed

When ya healthy it's like, we don't really care for Him then

Leave me alone God, I'll call you when I need you again

Which is funny, everyone will sleep in the pews

Then blame God for our problems like He sleeping on you

We turn our backs on Him, what do you expect Him to do?

It's hard to answer prayers when nobody's praying to you

I look around at this world we walk on

It's a smack in the face, don't ever tell me there's no God

And if there isn't then what are we here for?

And what are y'all doing down there? I don't know Lord

Oh Lord, oh Lord, do You see us down here?

Oh Lord, oh Lord

Do You see us down here? Oh Lord

Can You see us down here? Oh Lord

Oh Lord, oh Lord

Can You see us? Can't You see us?

[staygold-ponyboycurtis]

We Had Church!

But that day... well, Soda can’t sit still long enough to enjoy a movie, much less a sermon. It wasn’t long before he and Steve and Two-Bit were throwing paper wads at each other and clowning around, and finally Steve dropped a hymn book with a bang - accidentally, of course. Everyone in the place turned around to look at us, and Johnny and I nearly crawled under the pews. And Two-Bit waved at them. I hadn’t been to church since.

A one-shot about that one time the gang went to church... Idea credit goes to @ponyboyskywalker :)

“I don’t think the big guy upstairs is gonna mind if your shirt’s a little wrinkled, Pone,” Sodapop says, brushing off my shoulder.

I roll my eyes. “That’s not the point. I’m trying to look decent.”

“You’re a Curtis,” Two-Bit hollers from the living room. “Don’t y’all think you’re movie stars or somethin’?”

“Hey, don’t go givin’ the kid a complex, now,” I hear Steve say to him. “I don’t think the world could handle another self-obsessed Curtis.”

I hear the rumbling of Darry’s voice from somewhere in the house, undoubtedly berating Steve. Soda chuckles at the argument, buttoning his shirt in the mirror.

“I can’t believe you’re draggin’ me along with you,” he says. “Are ‘ya sure I won’t burst into flames when I walk through the door?”

I scoff. Soda doesn’t give himself enough credit. Just last week, he took the entire day off of work to sit with me while I was home sick with a stomach bug. Made me soup and ran to the store to get me ginger ale, too. In my eyes, he was bordering sainthood.

“I want you to go with me,” I say. “I think you’ll like going to church.” 

I’ve snuck off to our local church’s service a few times here and there without the gang knowing. After mom and dad died, I realized that it was a comfort to have something worth believing in. A higher power, of sorts. It helped me keep the hope that they weren’t gone forever. At first, I felt out of place. But after a while, I felt comfortable attending church. Welcomed, even.

I’d always sit in the back pew and mumble the hymns under my breath. I found myself relating to a lot of things the priest would say. Like the lessons about judgment and keeping promises. I wasn’t embarrassed or anything, I just didn’t know what the gang would think if they knew what I was up to. I didn’t want them to feel bad for me. I didn’t think they’d understand.

I had asked Sodapop if he’d go with me again and again until he finally said yes. I thought it was something we could do together. At first, he was confused. Once he realized that I wasn’t joking, he took it really seriously. Steve and Sodapop were each other’s shadows (much to my chagrin), so I should’ve known it was an unspoken invitation for him, too. Two-Bit decided to tag along because he didn’t have anything better to do, I reckon. 

“Is there singing?” Two-Bit had asked, his eyebrow raised incredulously. “I’ve heard there’s singing.”

“A little,” I said. “But you don’t have to sing along.”

“Good,” he had said with a chuckle. “Because my singing is a sin.”

I study myself in the mirror. I’m wearing Darry’s old dress shirt. The one he wore to his high school graduation. Except on him, it looked a lot better. The sleeves are a bit too long on me, and the collar is a little worn out. Despite the wrinkles, I don’t look too bad. I’d bet I’d even pass for a Soc if it weren’t for my long hair. I wonder what I’d look like if I cut it a bit…

“Pony,” I hear Steve say in a sarcastically exasperated tone. The one he always uses when he talks to me. He looks at me as if he’s repeated my name a few times. And he probably has. But I have a way of tuning people out when I’m stuck inside my own head.

“Johnny just walked in,” he says. “Let’s go.”

When we arrive at the old church, I usher everyone into the furthest pew from the front. Hoping we can sneak in undetected, I shuffle in quickly. A few older women turn around and stare at us a little too long, but I try not to notice. We surely look out of place, but isn’t there something to be said for not having any judgment?

I guess not, I think to myself as I meet their gaze.

“I’ve never been to church before,” Johnny says to me in a practically inaudible voice. “It’s nice in here.”

I nudge his shoulder, pointing directly ahead. “Look at the stained glass,” I say. It’s my favorite part of coming here. When the sun shines through towards the end of the service, it practically paints the entire room in shades of red, orange, and yellow. It reminds me of a brilliant flame - like a mirage. “It’s real nice,” he says, and I smile softly.

The priest begins talking, and I look down the row. Sodapop and Steve are jabbing each other in the sides and laughing quietly, without the slightest bit of interest in his sing-songy preaching. The hair on the back of my neck stands up and I nudge Two-Bit, who isn’t much help. Instead of stopping them, he leans over and asks what’s so funny, reveling in the entertainment. I sink a bit lower in my seat and try to focus on what’s being said by the priest. Something about having humility.

After a few minutes, I’ve sunk low enough in the pew that I’m practically on the floor. I want God to strike me right then and there – disappear from the embarrassment of it all. Sodapop, Steve, and Two-Bit haven’t stopped making noise since we sat down. Only Johnny has paid attention, nodding along whenever the priest interprets the biblical text into lament’s terms.

Every time I catch Sodapop’s eye, he bursts into laughter. I know it’s because he’s practically bursting at the seams with energy. He can barely sit still. He finds any kind of lecture too boring to pay attention. He has to cause mischief. I shake my head, cursing my former self for thinking that he could sit through a church service, let alone try to understand it.

When the velvet-lined receiving basket is shoved in front of us, Two-Bit peers in and tries to grab some of the change. The old man on the other end jerks it away from us in disgust and Two-Bit hoots at his ill-received prank. Steve and Soda find it hilarious and let out laughs that echo throughout the entire building.

When the priest ushers us to shake each other’s hands, the old women in front of us raise their eyebrows and look at us disapprovingly. Looking at the group of us, I can understand why. It almost seems like an insult for us, clad in jeans and old dress shirts, to be behind women dressed in dresses and pill box hats. I even catch Johnny’s dark face blushed with embarrassment.

“Well, peace be with you, too,” Two-Bit says in mock-disbelief. He crosses his arms theatrically and sits down with a huff. I look at him with an eyebrow raised.

“What?” he says. “Who would pass up the opportunity to shake the hands of the finest crop of upstanding young men that Tulsa has to offer?”

He leans forward enough so that his face is right behind the women’s backs. “You know, ladies. Those two are single,” he says, jerking his thumb to me and Johnny.

I cover my face in my hands. Oh, Lord.

For the rest of the service, I’m counting down the minutes and seconds until I can bolt out of the church and never look back. Thankfully, the gang keeps their antics down to a low murmur, but everyone is obnoxiously aware of our presence. I think I even notice the priest shake his head at us.

Right before we’re dismissed, I see Two-Bit and Soda wrestling over a bible.

“Put that back,” I whisper-yell, but they don’t listen. Two-Bit is trying to stand the books up in the pew next to him to build a tower, while Sodapop is trying to knock it down with a paper plane made from the church bulletin.

All of a sudden, I hear a thud. Without needing to turn my head, I know where it came from. Two-Bit snaps back into a sitting position as if he were in military formation and Sodapop stifles a laugh. It seems the entire crowd of church goers have turned around to look at us, the brazen group of greasers in God’s house raising hell.

I expect the old women in front of us to banish us right where we sit. If looks could kill, we’d be dead in the pew, and somehow, I think that’d be better than feeling the hot rush of humiliation that has burnt up my back.

With a wry smile, Two-Bit lifts his hand, waving sarcastically. “Hi, ladies,” he says with a smirk. They gasp a bit, turning around with astonished looks on their faces. 

Finally, the priest releases us to go about our day, and I’m on my feet before I can think twice. He tells us to have a great afternoon, but I’m contemplating digging a hole and hiding in it.

On the walk back to the house, the gang reminisces about our morning, oblivious to the scene we left behind.

“Did you see their faces?” Two-Bit says. “I thought someone had hiked up their skirt the way those fuddies’ mouths were hanging open.”

Soda chuckles. “I think they were all looking at you, Two-Bit.”

“Naw,” he says. “I was the most exciting thing to happen to them today.”

Sodapop slings his arm over my shoulder, not recognizing my annoyance. “Church sure was fun, Pone,” he says. “Thanks for invitin’ us.”

“Yeah, P.B.,” Two-Bit says. “Same time next week?”

My eyes widen. God help me.

-

one of my favorite headcanons is that Two-Bit calls Ponyboy “P.B.” :’) I just had to incorporate that here. & apologies for the delay. I was hoping to post this a few days ago but… life. however, I had so much fun writing this up. I just love thinking about the gang acting hilariously. And let me know who picks up on that lil easter egg I threw in there. I had to, y’all.

let me know what you think & if you have any ideas for future one-shots. I’m open to them all :)