crediblesolutions777

[loremori]

Martin Freeman (29/366)

Hardware 2003–2004

Directed Ben Kellett

Writer & Creator Simon Nye

***Small complaint.

Yesterday I wrote about not paying attention to people who hate on the Internet… but it really is difficult, especially when the "online press" (I understand that yellow journalism sells), echoes unfounded accusations. The treatment of his children: his son denied it. An actor who tries to open up about the difficulties of fatherhood is misunderstood. Bad Taste Joke: from 10 years ago about the adulteration of elf drink. Elves! Very bad joke indeed. Other equally old comments that have aged very poorly. I understand that it is the weight of fame to be under public scrutiny, but it saddens me to think that this has taken its toll on his career... Thus and all I think that he is satisfied with his successes and none of this matters to him, because he stays away from the internet.

***End of the complaint.

*The first season used to be complete on YouTube. Apparently it has already been removed.

[grugruel]

Saint, or Sinner.

Parings: Arthur Morgan x f!reader

MDNI/NSFW

Masterlist

Summary: You've had feelings for Arthur for quite some time now, but little did you know. That he has them for you, too.

After a rowdy night in Valentine, the group flees lawmen and end up in Strawberrys hotel. Whatever will occur?

Word count: 8.9 k

Warnings: Micha being Micah, bar fight/violence, plot with smut, mutual pining, soft Arthur, pinv sex, passionate sex, oral sex (f recieving), praise, pet names (girl, sweetheart), choking, fingering, handjob, creampie, mentioned masturbation.

AN: The words ran away from me, holy shit. It's so much longer than I intended.

Muffled voices argued in the night, soon growing into angry shouts. Rousing me from my sleep, confused, I put my gown on in a hurry. Sleep ridden eyes in a dark tent were not doing me any favors. I pulled the flap to the side and stumbled out of the tent, the voices creating one hell of a commotion.

Just as I did, most of the camp had awoken and joined in on the argument, gladly contributing their own heated opinions on the matter. All except Duch and Arthur, much to my dismay.

My eyes adjusted to the scene before me, the assailants quickly becoming clear. Standing around the campfire, was Micah of course, the center of attention as usual. Stood half shouting at John, who's pot seemed to be boiling over.

Soon after, John unleashed a rant on Micahs stupitidy, throwing in every word he could manage in his steaming anger.

I rolled my eyes, what could that damned fool possibly have done now?

'You piss ridden, moldy rat bastard.' John shouts, seamingly leaving Micah lost for words.

Bill bursts out laughing, slapping his knee at the insult, 'You big fuckin nuthead Micah. . .' He sighs, catching his breath.

Even Hosea snickers, 'Hes right, and that's coming from Bill of all folk.'

I cover my mouth as a giggle leaves my lips, seeing Micah so dumbfounded really sobered my mood. The rest of the girls have a simular reaction.

Micahs eyes narrow on me, 'What are ya' laughing at sweetheart. I ought to teach ya' a lesson.' He snarls, greasy hair hanging over his face.

The camp falls silent, none too appreciative of his choice of words. My mood turn sour again and a chill runs up my spine. The first to call him out was Sadie, 'Someone hold me back.' She spits, Sean stepping in to fo judt that.

Second was Miss Grimshaw, 'The money and now you threathen the girl, have you gone and lost your mind Micah Bell?' disgust evident on her face.

The money? What money?

John took a threatening step toward him, very displeased with Micahs comment, hands forming into fists at his sides. Hosea too, gave him a a bemused look.

'Try anything Bell, and I'll cut your fucking balls off.' I spit, glaring at him, feeling incredible joy in the way his face falls.

Muffled chuckles surround me, 'Thats my Girl.' Sadie laughs, along with a low, approving whistle from Javier.

'Whats goin' on here?' A gruff voice cuts in, looking between me and Micah.

Arthur, flanked by Dutch.

Arthur, shirtless. Flanked by Dutch.

In all my anger, my eyes cant help but sneak a hasty glance at his broad chest. Then quickly averting it, afraid he'd notice. I clear my throat, trying to keep my thoughts in check, 'He threatened me.'

That was enough for Arthur, not doubting me for a second. Fixed himself straight up with murder in his eyes, then walked at the man, readying his fists for a beating.

Butterflies fluttered within me.

Unsurprisingly, Micah cowered. Taking quick cautionary steps backward before Dutch could jump in, throwing his arm in front of Arthur and stopping him in his tracks. John looks at the two men, directing an accusing finger on Micah, 'Not only that, this blasted idiot took our money.'

The moment of joy from Micahs humiliation disappear, turning into anger once again. The camp giving him a mutual glower.

Arthur runs a hand through his hair, 'I ought to kill you.' He speaks, gritting his teeth, and takes another firm step forward. Pushing the limits of Dutch's patience, who strengthens the hold on Arthur.

'Surely, there must be a reasonable explanation for this?' Dutchs says, forcing a smile and shooting Micah an expectant look. Giving him an undeserved chance at explaining himself. Although he didn't show it, he too, was bemused.

'Well- I wanted to invest it, make it grow. I just wanted to help the camp.' Micah preached, his voice sleazy and confident. Telling the sure as shit, bull of an excuse as if he was the one to feel sorry for. Despite the circumstances.

Sighing, 'He god damned gamled it all away.' John reveals, looking ready to kill the man himself. The camp erupts into a loud argument once again, everyone getting a piece in.

I sneak a glance at Arthur, his chest rising and falling in big breaths, trying his hardest to stay calm. 'Bastard.' He mutters under his breath, Dutch giving him a quick warning glance.

'Shut!–' a hoarse voice calls out, '–Up!' Dutch yells, and obediently, we all fall silent. 'Theres no use, standin' around screamin'. You fools are attracting unwanted attention.' Dutch says, hands on his hips, 'Who won the funds.'

'Some rich bastard up in Strawberry.' Micahs sly voice cut through the night.

Dutch rubs his forehead in thought, 'Then he can do without it, go back there and grab it.' An exasperated sigh leaving him, 'Arthur, John, Bill, Charles.' He rounds the men up, 'You go there with him.' He turns to go back to his tent, but pauses and shouts, 'And no!–' dragging the words out, '–Deaths!' He looks at Micah, knowing damn well he'd otherwise murder the mans entire family in cold blood, then points to Arthur, 'That means you too, Arthur.' He says, a tired tone to his words. Clearly insinuating that he wanted Micah alive.

Everyone scatters, going back to bed on edge. But I linger, tucked away behind the tentflap. I watch Arthur come back out of his tent, in full get up. Silently praying that'd they'd be alright, that he would be. I did not care what happened to Micah, I hoped the man would get shot right between the eyes. I would personally love to see to it, I hoped Arthurs hatred for the man would get the better of him. Dutch always went way to easy on Micah, I didn't understand it, but something wasn't quite right with it.

Abigail kisses John goodbye, it made me happy to see them back together and all made up. I watch Arthur leave his tent in full get up, then stride past my tent. He gets on his horse with the rest of them, and ride past the treeline of Horseshoe overlook. No doubt berating Micah all the way to Strawberry.

I laid down in my bed, trying my damndest to sleep. But worry was keeping me up, eating away at me. Something didn't feel right.

He'd heard his words to her, him threatening her. Horrifying images cloud his mind, filling him with rage all over again. No doubt things he'd done before. He glanced a glare at the man, ugly mut.

Had Dutch not been there to stop him, Micah would've found his face beaten bloody and Arthur grinning on top of him. Had he not been loyal to the camp, to his people, to Dutch. Micah wouldn't be returning from this trip. He would conveniently get a bullet to his head, or found on the bottom of a valley, beaten unrecognizable before the fall had caused the killing blow.

He didnt want any harm coming to her. He'd never felt this for a woman, not ever. He'd steal glances, admire her when she wasn't looking. Damn well kill for her. She was the light he had needed for so long, her charming smile could shine brighter than any star he'd ever seen.

'You taken a likin' to her, Morgan?'

John raised his head at that, paying closer attention to the conversation, to Arthur. Knowing the possibility of him flying off the handle.

'Shut up if you know what's good for you Micah.' Charles scolded.

He scoffed, 'The day I listen to–' Micha looks Charles up and down, lingering on the color of his skin, 'The likes of you,' he continues, 'Will be my last.' Muttering the last words.

Ignoring him, Charles didn't do as much as raise an eyebrow. Micah did not deserve a reaction.

Micah was black rot, down to his core. Destorying everything he touched. We all knew it, but all aren't so keen to admit it. Dutch was the first person to come to mind, I couldn't understand for the life of me why he was so defensive of the man.

'I can see why.' Micah spoke again, 'Pretty little thing, isn't she?' He looked at Arthur, 'Got a big mouth on her too.'

John looked between the two men, noting the way Arthur fisted his reins, no doubt knuckles turning white under his gloves. Along with the way he kept his head straight ahead, focused on not killing the man, 'Micah, keep her off your tongue.' John warned, 'I don't care for you, but I don't want the heat from Dutch when you're found dead.' His raspy voice referring to him and Arthur.

Charles looked at the men in silent agreement, he preferred staying out of camp conflicts. But she was a woman dear to the camp, touching her would bode ill for any man.

And ad usual, the big idiot doesn't listen, 'Wouldn't mind takin' her for a ride one of these nights.' He said, the self-righteous smile he bore evident even in his tone. There was no need to look at him to know it.

Bill had been staying out of it, but he could feel the anger radiating off of Arthur. Enough to switch sides, hanging back, then stearing his horse up next to Arthur instead of Micah. Just in case a bullet would come flying.

And wouldn't you know it, Arthur reached into his holster and pulled his finest revolver, aiming it at the sorry excuse of a man. All in one quick motion, he'd been labeled as a dangerous for a reason. John sighed, now he'd done it.

Micah, dropped his reins. Raising his hands in the air, keeping a smug expression on his face. But beneath, he was scared witless.

'Strawberry up ahead.' Charles called, not caring much for the action behind him. Killing Micah would only do the camp good, but a gunshot would give their location away.

'Not another word of her.' Arthur began, 'Touch 'er–' He warns, 'And I'll let her kill ya'.' His voice gravelly and threatening, but Micah scoffed at the notion.

The familiar click off a safety lever sounds out, and the color drains from Micahs face.

'House is just up ahead.' Charles cut in, 'I'd suggest you wait wait with this til we got the funds.'

With a final glare, he holsters his gun and rides up to Charles. Clearing a hill, the house comes into view. Arthur sighs, 'Damn it Micah, you didnt tell us this feller had security.'

'You scared of a little fightin' pretty boy?' Micah mocked.

With a scoff from Arthur, they hitch their horses and pull up their bandanas, setting about proving the rumors of the infamouse Van Der Linde gang.

I anxiously checked my father's old pocket watch. It had been a few hours now. I put it down, tried to think of other things, and then picked it up again. Another 5 minutes had passed. Christ. I couldn't bear losing Arthur, John or Charles, god forbid all three of them. Bill could be sweet, but only when he needed something. I couldn't even dare imagine John leaving Abigail and Jack behind. What would they do? Stay with the gang, of course, but. . . Goodness, what about Arthur? My thoughts were racing ahead of me.

A few more minutes pass, then I hear hoofbeats, relief flods through me. It's hard to count, but theres at least three horses. God, let it be the right three. I emerge from my tent, along with Miss Grimshaw, Abigail, the rest of the girls, and Dutch. I race up to Abigail, holding eachothers hands as we watch the treeline in silence. Relying on each other for support.

Eventually, they break through. All five horses returning with their men on top of them, secretly I curse. One of the could've gotten lost and the world would've been a better place for it. I stroke Abigails back while John sees to his horse, then walks up to us, taking her in his arms and spinning her in a circle. They laugh, and a tinge of jealousy spark inside me. Yet I'm more than happy for them.

I observe the rest of them, they seem to be unharmed. All except. . . Arthur, his white shirt covered in blood. The terror must've been evident on my face, because–

'Hes fine.' John spoke, 'Most of it aint even his.' He said in an effort to calm me.

I nodded, smiling faintly 'Thank you John.' And sqeezed his arm.

'Well–' Dutch called out, 'How'd it go?' He looked at them, expecting nothing but grandeur.

'We got more than we bargained for. . ' John said, grinning. But there was something else his tone.

Bill unloaded his horse and came carrying several saddlebags, throwing them at our feet, money spilling out 'We got what we came for—' He paused, then pulled out two more bags from vehind his back, 'And more!' He burst out in a self-satisfied laugh.

I had to say, they made the best out of a bad situation. And on top of it all, Micah had barely made a sound, he was strangely quiet.

Dutch patted Bill and John on the back, 'Good work, wake the rest. Let us celebrate!' He clapped his hands together, no doubt imagining Tahiti.

I searched for him in the crowd of people as the camp was waking up, and found him talking to Charles and Sadie at the edge of the camp, clutching his side. Worry gnawed at me. They joined us by the campfire while Arthur headed into his tent, not saying much of nothing to anyone else.

The festivities carried out throughout the night, Arthurs lamp remained turned on. Eventually, I just had to check up on him.

I snuck away from the folk, Abigail and John had already turned in, as had Dutch and Molly. Seemed like the singles were the only ones left drinking, and Micah had disappeared to sulk somewhere. Lucky us.

I left them to it and approached his tent, 'Arthur?' I called, but didn't get an answer. I just heard some huffing from the inside.

I risked his reaction and pulled the flap to the side, 'Arth-' I began, but got cut off by the sight. In front of me was Arthur Morgan, shirt pushed up over his stumache, cowboy hat on, stitching up his own wound. Sitting on a stool, his pants were unbuttoned and folded down by the hip, revealing that beautiful "V" shape along with a happy trail of hair leading down toward, well. . . A new cut stretched from his hip to his abdomen, blood covered his hands and side, groaning as he pulled a needle through his skin. Something set off inside me, a yearning that made my body ache. He scarcely even noticed me, not until I gasped.

He looked up, eyes widening, 'You need somethin' Girl?' He blurted out, taken off guard. His state of undress did not help.

'Arthur Morgan. . .' I sighed, slightly offended, 'You shouldve fetched me, you know im good at stitchin' wounds.'

'I know, I know. 'm sorry sweetheart.' smiling faintly, 'Didnt wanna bother you.' He drawled.

I also noticed a mostly empty bottle of whiskey next to him, hoping he used most of it to disinfect the wound. I put my hands on my hips, 'Will you let me help?'

He nodded and handed me the needle, fingers brushing against eachother as I grabbed it.

Our eyes met, briefly. Sharing a glance that was ment to be stolen.

He leaned back against his dresser, the muscle of his upper body changing and rippling with his movements.

I cleared my throat and stepped closer, 'May I?' I asked, pointing at his shirt.

'You may.' He smirked.

I leaned closer to him, unbuttoning from top to bottom. Then pushing the shirt over his shoulder so it'd stay clear from his wound. I kneeled in front of him, his legs spread so I could get closer to the cut, then resting my elbows on his strong thigh to steady my arms.

I tried to focus on the wound, but it proved hard as I was so close to his crotch and how closely he was observing me.

'Might I ask what happened?' I bit my lip in focus, threading the needle through his skin.

'More men than expected.' He answered with a grunt, looking at my lips. Blood rushing somewhere it ought not to, 'One jumped out on me.' He continued, his voice husky and strained.

'He live to tell the tale?' I asked, searching his gaze. Hoping he'd be sincere.

'He did. . .' He groaned, as I finished another stitch. Making the aching settle in my core, a pulse running through me. Every now and then, when I believed him not to be looking. My eyes roamed his chest, studying his strong pecks and biceps.

'You know anything about Micahs sudden tongue-tie?' I ask, locking eyes with him. He lowers his head with a chuckle, a smirk poking out from under his hat.

'I might've. . . Given him something to think about.' He shrugs, the corner of his lip tugging.

Sighing, a smile spreads over my lips 'Youre a good man, Arthur Morgan.' I told him earnestly, 'Better than most.' I finished the last stitch and looked at him, 'All d-' I began, but he cut me off.

His lips greeting mine in a passionate kiss, lasting a whole second. But it was the best second I'd had in years. He pulled back, a horrified look on his face. Immidietly regretting it.

Surprised, I did not quite know what to say. 'Arthur, Im- You- You're drunk. .' I blurted, thinking it was the alcohol taking action. Nothing else.

'I'm–' He looked at me, searching for words 'You're right, I- I probably am. Apologies miss.' He managed.

I cursed myself, why'd he have to be drunk? He'd never remember that this even happened tomorrow.

'No- no. That's fine, don't worry. I didnt-' I tried, I didn't mind it. In fact I loved it, is that so hard to say? 'I should, uhm- let you sleep, you need to rest.' Idiot.

'I s'pouse so.' Was all he said, shock and regret still lingering between us.

'Well, good night. . . Mr Morgan.' I said, and he winced. Quickly, I took my leave.

'Night ma'am.' He called after me.

It felt like fleeing the scene of a crime. Bashing myself for the the formal good night, we were way past such pleasantires. It felt like a blow to even utter the words, even though I usually call him Mr Morgan. But it's always in a teasing way. Never formal and distant like this was.

Goodness gracious, what had I done?

I tucked myself under the covers in my own tent, thoughts circling my mind. I could not tear myself away from the smell of him, his musk, his broad build. Or the way sweetheart sounded as it rolled of his tongue, the way his tongue felt against my own. A hand snaked between my thighs, relieving myself of the ache he'd caused. Then slowly, I drifted off to sleep. With nothing but him on my mind.

You god damned fool Arthur, why'd you have scare her away? Old bastard, he thought to himself. Seeing her by his tent had startled him, but her gentle touch and sweet voice was all the comfort he'd needed. It took the sting right out of the needle. He'd used the bottle to clean the wound, but letting her think he was drunk was easier than the truth.

He'd took a liking to her from the moment he laid eyes on her, but she would never feel the same way. She'd called him Mr Morgan, as if the last year of building a relation with her had disintigrated within a second. It stung, real bad. Worse than a knife ever would. Yet that kiss made it all worth it her soft lips against his, her sweet taste. Feeling her breath on his skin as she undid his buttons, and seein' you like that? Kneeling between his legs, so close to him. It was a memory he would cherish through thick and thin, a memory that would keep him up at night. A memory that made him hard in an instant, he let out a frustrated groan. Silenty taking care of it, pretty images of her occupying his mind as he did. Finally, he began drifting off to sleep. And he only had one thing on his mind. She'd called him a good man, that's all that mattered to him.

A week passed, and we'd had a few shallow interactions. Nothing serious, but resembling the akwardness we experienced in his tent, it made my heart sore. I always found a reason to talk to him, to be near him. So when to opportunity arrived once again, I jumped on it. We'd had a full day of chores, but needed to head into Valentine for a supply run, to stock up on things like ammo and vegetables. And just generally take a look around town, see what else we could find. But I don't have a horse of my own, and since Lenny and Sean were taking the wagon.

I found myself in need of a ride.

The sun had begun its final stretch before setting, meaning the light was golden and beautiful. The warm spring air was gradually turning chilly, but in the most soothing way. I joined the crew by the horses, 'Who's willin' to give a lady a ride.' I asked coyly.

Arthurs mouth fell open, as if he was about to speak, but quickly closed it again. 'I always got space for you, girl.' Sadie winked.

'Stop that. . You ol' charmer.' I smile shyly. Arthur couldn't help but smile, nothing but admiration I'm his eyes for you.

'Well-' Micah began, and I immediately rolled my eyes. Arthur glaring daggers at him.

'Shut it, and shave that overgrown squirell off your face.' Sadie interrupted him, Sean erupting into laughter at the comment.

'Why are we even bringin' him? We don't need that kind of trouble today.' I pointed out.

'Cause I say so, sweetheart.' He leers, smugness radiating off of him.

My stumache churns, my dinner almost catching its second wind, 'Dont call me that.' I turn serious.

Micah laughs, about to respond-

'You heard her.' Arthur stops him, making him reconsider opening his mouth again. Instead he opts to mutter under his breath, no doubt the most vile and cruel things too.

John joins us to help get the wagon in order, then sen dus off. Changing the subject back, 'Arthur got the most space.' John points out, 'I'm sure he wouldn't mind.' He winks at me subtly, and I blush. John Marston, you godsend.

'That okay with you Arthur?' I ask, looking up at him with big eyes.

'Course, c'mon sweetheart.' He jumps out of the saddle, grabs me by the waist, and helps me onto his tall, dark shire.

I yelp, unprepared for his strength. He gets back on, placing himself behind me, then grabs the reins on either side of me, capturing me in his big frame. I can honestly say, that I've never felt safer. A content smile covers my lips.

Sadie chuckles at the two of us, the chuckle turning into pure laughter when she sees Micahs expression. Gritted teeth and narrowed eyes, glaring at us, probably furious by my blatant approval of Arthurs use of sweetheart.

And with that, we begin our journey into town. Lenny and Sean were singing behind us, Sadie leading the way ahead of us. And Micah? I didn't bother finding out where he was.

Feeling Arthurs warmth behind me was all I cared about, his chest and thighs rubbing up against me with every step of his horse. It was doing something to me.

As the sun dove deeper, the cool in the air grew. Involuntary shivers took ahold of my body, 'You cold, girl?' He asked.

I shook my head, 'No, I'll be fine. Thank you though, Arthur.' My voice hackig as a particularly violent shiver shook my body, making my teeth clattered against eachother.

'Dont you lie to me, you're freezin'.' He says, worry lacing his tone, 'Take the reins.' That was an order.

I did and his hands slid between us, unbuttoning his jacket. Knuckles brushing against my back, all the way along my spine, ending at the arch of my back. Sending shivers in waves all over my body. 'Scooch down.' He orders again. Slightly hesitant, I slide backward. My ass tucked neatly again his crotch and my back flush again his chest. With his jacket still on, he wraps it around my sides, nearly covering my entire upper body. Sharing eachothers heat, trapping it between us.

'Arthur. .' I breathe, lust coursing through me. But it must've sounded as a protest because-

'-Dont start.' He said, 'My jacket is big enough for the both of us. Now hand me the reins, darlin.'

Oh you wonderful, oblivious man.

I gave them back to him and tugged his jacket closer around me, leaning impossibly closer to him. Gradually, my shivers disappeared, all thanks to the large, warm bear of a man behind me.

'See? Told ya'.' His body shook gently with a silent chuckle.

'You're somethin' else Mr Morgan.' I sighed and this time, the words felt right.

He smiled, she didnt see it, thankfully. Everything she did, made him smile. She was so close to him, and he had indirectly caressed her back. He could've leaned back and given her space, but he craved her. It was intimate and special. He'd not felt so peaceful since she stitched him up last week. Everything he did was at her service. Now she sat between his legs, grinding up against him. Not to her knowledge though, she just moved her hips to the step of the horse, riding like a woman should. But unbeknownst to her, she was feeding a hunger he fought hard to contain. Head in the lions mouth and all.

'Whats on that mind of yours Arthur?' She asked, 'I can feel you thinkin' from 'ere.' Shuddering against him, is she still cold?

If she only knew, what was goin' through his mind. How he thought of you every waking moment, a sentiment she would never return.

'Nothin' special, you still feelin' cold? I can feel you shiverin' Girl.'

She froze for a second before she spoke, chuckling under her breath, 'No I ain't cold, but thank you again.' He could hear the smile on her lips.

What was it then?

'Is the cut heelin' good?' She asked, concern and something else lingering in her voice. The memory resurfaced in his mind, his blood setting about rushing places. He shut his eyes, trying to clean his mind before he answered. Clearing his throat first, 'Good, 'is gonna be a nice 'n clean scar.' His voice lightly strained.

'Well, I'm glad. You got enough of em' for my liking.' She huffed, annoyed at the notion of him always hurting himself.

He risked it, and leaned his head forward, almost touching her shoulder but not quite. Breathing in that sweet scent of hers. Telling himself that it wasn't such a strange thing to do. 'I'll survive, I always do. With your fine stitchin' It's impossibly not to.'

She blushed, turning her face away from his, a bit shy at his compliment. He loved the way her cheeks turned rosy, 'Thank you.' She said proudly, another shudder against him.

Damn it, wad she still cold or not?

He opted out of asking again. She'd just tell him no. So he took matters into his own hands, quite literally. He moved the reins into one hand and circled the other around her waist, pulling her closer. Figuring he could blame it on rough terrain, that he didn't want her to hurt her pretty self.

But she didn't protest, on the contrary. She made a sound, almost like she exhaled a moan under her breath. Then grabbed his thigh, rough terrain too, perhaps? 'Arthur. . .' She breathed.

'I apologise miss, I shouldn't ha–' He began.

'No, no. You should've.' Firm in her words. 'You, remember much from last week?' She asked.

'I do.' He breathed, a nervous shake to his voice.

'You werent drunk?'

'No ma'am.' He answered truthfully, 'I lied.'

'Why?' There was hurt in her voice, and something broke inside of him.

He hesitated, choosing his words carefully, afraid he'd hurt her more, 'Thought maybe it'd be best, since I stepped over a line.'

She scoffed, 'You didn't step over anything, Mr Morgan.'

'Well I. . .' He paused, 'You didnt seem to like it, thats all. Didnt want you to think I was takin' advantages.' He rambled an explanation.

'I didn't want to take advantage of you Mr Morgan.' She sounded annoyed, annoyed by this whole missunderstanding, 'Didnt want you kissin' me drunk, if it was, just cause you were drunk.' She explained, 'I thought you were drunk. . .' sighing.

Puzzle pieces were finally falling into place for the both of them.

'We're here!' Sadie called from the front.

Dissapointed, I sighed. Yet, relieved, I smiled.

Arthur jumped off, grabbed my waist and helped me down. His touch lingering as our eyes met, searching eachothers gazes for answers. Wondering, where to go from here. We were finally on the same page, and knowing he kissed me from his own free will put a sping in my step.

The group broke up, I headed with Sadie as the men got about their business. We looked at the guns first and foremost, then headed for the general store. I looked for Arthur as we walked from building to building, and saw him heading into the stables. I wondered if he was gonna treat himself to a new saddle. He deserved it.

We went about our list of things to buy, then gathered by the wagon. Collectively, we decided on a bar run before we rode back to camp. Lenny and Sean were particularly excited about the idea.

We ordered whiskey, drank and laughed. Sadie and Lenny stood between me and Arthur, resulting in a whole lot of meaningful glances. Just wishing we could talk some more.

At some point a woman had approached Arthur, laying her hand on his bicep, clearly flirting. And my blood ran cold.

I stood talking with Sean, who noticed my change in demeanour and looked over at them. 'Dont worry yourself girl.' He laughed, and I furrowed my brows. Not sure what he ment.

'You gonna buy a lady a drink?' The woman asked, her voice sultry. Now, my blood boiled.

Arthur chuckeled, 'I didnt know I was talking to a lady.' And glanced at her hand, which she immediately retracted upon noticing.

She scoffed, 'Aint that a nice way to treat a woman. You taken cowboy?' She asked, her eyes narrowing on him.

'Well. . .' He huffed, 'You could say that.'

My heart swelled at his comment.

'Told ye so.' Sean smirked, and I playfully hit him on the shoulder.

The night went on, and as most nights go in a saloon, a fight was bound to happen. Arthur must've been watching me, because within the next half minute. A man had walked up next to me, and was about to touch what wasnt his to touch. But Arthur appeared out of nowhere, his outlaw instics mustve been on high alert. The man did in fact look sleezy enough to attempt such a thing, Arthur grabbed the mans wrist in a bone breaking grib. 'You keep your hands to yourself mister.' He said, his voice low and threatening.

'Or what?' The man spit, and Arthur let go of him. Lowering his head, chuckling. That shouldve been the mans warning, but he didn't know Arthur like we did.

Backing me up, Sean whispered 'Get ready.' to Sadie, Lenny and me. Nodding to a table of thugs in the corner, they were staring at our group intently, watching the scene unfold.

Arthur jerked his head to the side and smirked under his hat, then in flash he gave the man a lethal right hook. Sending him flying backward. The thugs sprung up, heading for us with firm steps.

Holy shit. A full on brawl broke out, everyone lunged themselves on everyone. I delivered a right hook of my own as two guys were ganging up on Lenny. Another man tried getting handsy with me, he snuck up behind me and grabbed me around the waist. So I elbowed him hard in the side and threw my head back. Headbutting him, I turned around and pushed him off me. Taking great joy in the way his nose was gushing blood, I grabbed him by the shoulders and kneed him in the crotch. With a whine, the man fell to the ground.

Even Micah joined in on the action, he'd been sitting still enjoying his whiskey beside us. Until he decided he wanted some fun too, apparently only he could be inappropriate with me. He smashed the glass over the head on the closest man, although im pretty sure he wasn't even apart of the brawl.

As the dust was settling and the lawmen had been called, we flew the coup. Arthur grabbed my hand and rushed us to our horses, not willing to risk leading the law back to camp, we rode hard and fast for Strawberry. Arthur was making a fuss about me on the ride there, asking if I was ok, and I assured him I was. 'Well. . . You got one hell of a hook girl.' He said, and I beamed with pride.

The gang had to act casual as we arrived to Strawberry, which proved futile with cuts and bruises as we asked for hotel rooms. But we ended up conning our way into possession of the last three hotel rooms. Bribing the clerk that is.

Arthur grabbed a key of his own, which nobody disputed. He gave me a meaningful look at and headed upstairs. Sadie grabbed a key and dragged me along with her. Leaving the last three men to argue about sharing a room, 'Shut up Micah, you're sleeping in the hall.' Sean shouted behind us. Turning around, I saw Micah slamming the doors open and storming out.

'I'll find a woman to warm me, dont ya' worry.' He shouted back, muttering under his breath.

We burst out laughing and ran to our room, but before we headed in, I grabbed her arm 'I'm just gonna go check on Arthur real quick.' I said, not thinking much of it.

'I'll not see you til the morning then.' She laughed, our stolen glances had apparently not been so stolen after all.

I rolled my eyes, 'We'll see.' And knocked on his door.

Lenny and Sean walked by, a low whistle accompanied by chuckles as they saw me standing there. But they quickly turned quiet when Arthur opened the door, standing in only his shirt and pants 'May I come in?' I asked, giving him my best puppy eyes.

'Course.' He smirked, and opened the door wider, stepping out of my way. My side brushing against him as I entered. His vest and jacket lay discarded on the bed, along with his hat.

'About before-' I began, my back turned to him. Suddenly feeling his hands slide onto my waist, pulling me into him. I gasped, not expecting it. He leaned into my shoulder, lips gracing my neck, all the way up to my ear. The warmth of his breath fanning over my skin, making me boil on the inside. It made it difficult to think.

'I want you darlin', all of ya'.' He whisperes, 'If you'll have me–' pausing to place a gentle kiss between my ear and jaw, '–'M tired off missunderstandin's.'

In a haze, I turn around and lay my hands on his chest, having to crane my neck upward to meet his eyes. I reach one hand to caress his cheek, brushing at his stubble 'So am I.'

He leans into my delicate touch, nuzzling my hand and placing a soft peck on my palm.

One of his hands sinks its fingertips into the flesh at my hip as the other grabs my arm softly, sliding his hand up to my wrist, gently holding it as he places another kiss there, right on my pulse point. His lips linger, feeling my rapid heartbeat. Gently, he experiments. Sucking and pecking the spot.

A deep ache settles in my bones, fortifying with every kiss he places, deepening with every beat of my heart. And for a second, he feels it too. Meeting my eyes with a smirk, he pulls my sleeve up to cover more ground. Immidietly I feel that my clothes are weighing me down, 'Arthur.' I whisper.

'Hmm?' He hums, focused on kissing what skin he has access to.

Clearing my throat, 'Will you–' I breathe, 'Help me unbutton?'

His eyes meet mine again, searching my gaze for certainty. 'I'll spend the rest of my days doin' your biddin' if it makes you happy girl.'

'It would–' I say, and his hands move to my ribcage, pulling me into his frame. His face an inch from mine as his hands snake around my back, making quick work of each button without batting an eye. 'Oh—' I gasp, surprised by his practiced fingers. 'Should I be jealous?' I ask under my breath.

'No ma'am, none could compete with you.' He assures me.

I feel a blush creep up my cheeks, and in the same moment, he finishes with the last button. Stroking his knuckles over the bare skin along my spine, and sighs. Content. As a shuddering breath leaves me.

Arthur wonders for but a second if shes cold again, until he realises.

'You werent cold, were ya'?'

Immedietly getting what hes reffering to, 'In the begginin' I was.' I tell him truthfully, 'Youre wonderfully clueless sometimes, especially for such a experienced man.'

He chuckles, 'You tellin' me you were all hot 'n bothered for me?'

'You were rubbin' against me, pullin' me close. How could I not be?'

'I wasnt–' He protests, '–You were on me if anythin'.'

'Oh so youre tellin' me you were all hot 'n bothered then?' I throw his words back at him, smirking happily while doing it.

Arthurs mouth opens and closes, unable to think of a comeback.

'Thats what I thought.'

He scoffs a smile, pushing my blouse off of me, leaving me in my undergarments.

His hands move to my arms, sliding upwards, leaving prickled skin in their abscence. He trails them over my collarbones and neck, his eyes following every inch of movement.

I lay my hands on his hips, holding onto him as my knees grow weeker by the second.

Forming his hands into loose fists, he caresses my cheeks with the backs if his fingers. Gently brushing the knuckles over my cheekbones, pushing strands of hair from my face in the same motion. He flattens his hands and cup my face, big hands draping around the sides of my head. Pulling me closer, he leans into my space. Meeting in the middle, his lips ghost over mine.

My breath hitches when he kisses me softly, his thumbs stroking my temples in soothing motions.

I grab onto his shirt, fisting and lightly pulling on the fabric. Arousal taking the reins completley, making it hard to think. I look at him with hazy eyes, admiration clouding every sense I have. '. . 'S your turn mister.' I breathe.

Smiling, he continues kissing me, 'At your pleasure ma'am.'

With a pleased hum, I trace my hands up his abdomen and over his chest, and Arthur groans in response. The aching pulse in my body stiffens at the sound, becoming more compressed. More focused in my core. Kissing him, I easily unbutton his shirt, making quick work of it, and slide it over his shoulders. Now hooked on his arm folds, it hangs around the small of his back. I sigh happily, what a sight it was.

'You expercied taking men's shirt's off?' He jokes, laughing. Then moves his hands to my waist, clawing softly at my skin.

I slide my arms around his neck, up into his hair. Scrathing his scalp tenderly, 'Well–' I begin, but he bites my lip suddenly, warning me. I yelp, accidently pulling on his hair, and a whine escapes him. My core dripping at the sound as I release a shuddering breath, '. .'M a woman Arthur, I have needs.'

'Yeah?' He questions, 'You needin' right now, woman?' The gruffness in his voice making my fingers curl.

'I am. .' Whining, my kisses turn needy, 'I need you Arthur, always.' I moan.

At that he wraps his arms around me, pulling me tightly into his embrace, his fingers digging into my flesh. He kissed me, hard. Hard like he might just die if let's me go.

'Skirt. . .' mumbling against me, 'Needs to go.' He manages. Without another word, I snake my hands behind my back, untying my skirt a let it fall to the floor. Arthur walks forward, forcing me back until my chins hit the bed and we fall onto it. He puts his weight on me, although supported by his forearms. 'Pants.' He orders, but I was already one step ahead. My hands already moving quickly to undo the buttons on his pants as hes kissing his way down my jaw and neck. Focusing on my sweet spot, hes sucks bruises, turning me into a moaning mess under every breath. Meanwhile, I shove my hand into his boxers. He grunts and shoves his forehead into the crook of my neck as I palm him, overwhelmed by my long lusted for touches. His member was already harder than a rock, and leaking juices. I bring my thump to his tip, stroking his seed in circles. He groans breathely into my neck, his warm breath causing further heat to pool in core. He leans onto one arm, sliding the other along the curves of my body. Cupping my breast through my brasier, 'I want to look at you sweetheart.' He groans and unfolds his arm so that hes above me to meet my eyes, 'Can I look at ya'?' He asks, voice pleading.

I nod, '. . 'Course.'.

Waisting no time, he snakes one hand under my back and lifts me up. I gasp, always surprised by his strength. 'Please, ma'am.' He begs, and I take the hint. My hand leaves his his member and move around my back, undoing the brasier. Throwing it on the floor, he sighs in relief, 'Wanted to see ya' for so long.' He breathes, lowering me back onto the bed and himself onto of me. Immidietly taking one breast into his mouth, and palms the other. Squeezing them, playing with my nipples, using teeth, tounge and fingers. Automatically, my back arches. Pushing my abdomen against his, and accidentally making my mound rub against his crotch. He hums under his breath, his hand leaving my breast and slowly slides down my body, then pulls his mouth off of my breast with a pop. 'Now.' He whispers, kissing his way up to my jaw, then leveling his head with mine, 'Wanna se all of ya'.' his free hand cups my cunt. I gasp from the sudden touch, there's no friction, no movement, yet the aching grows stronger from the warmth of his palm alone. I shut my eyes, trying to come up with an answer. But the presence of him takes up my entire mind, all I can manage is a nod.

Not satisfied, he pushes his palm firmly against my core. 'Look at me girl.' He orders, sliding his middle finger over my slit, undergarments creating a barrier. Making my wetness soak into them, and he chuckles when he feels it. Whimpering, I open my eyes to look at him, and he smirks, 'Good girl.' And plants a kiss on my jaw, 'Use your words this time.' He pecks my lips, then slides his finger over my clit. Lately circling it through the fabric, I swallow hard. Jolts of pleasure surge through my body as something finally gives. 'Want. . . You.' I manage.

'Yeah?' He breathes, and I nod. To which he raises his brows, and pushes two fingers against my core in warning.

Another jolt, '!Mmm, meanin'. . .' Humming a stutter, 'Yes–' I pause, '–Please Arthur. I- I want you.'

'Atta girl.' He praises, then begins trailing kisses down my chest, over my nipple and abdomen, ending at my mound, right above my clit.

My back arches, 'Please. .' I whisper, pleading with him. He pushes back, shakes his already half off shirt completley off, and his pants follow. My eyes go wide at the size of him, hello cowboy.

His hands slide up my thighs, giving reassuring squeezes until he gets ahold of my undergarments. Hooking his fingers under them, he gently slides them off, and the both of us gasp. 'Beautiful.' He murmurs, admiring me. Then bends down, kissing his way up my inner thigh. Winding his arms under my legs and grabbing my waist, then hovers over my cunt, giving me one last look before diving in.

He licks one long stripe up my folds, gathering my wetness on his tongue. Then attaches himself to my clit, generously sucking and circling his tongue around it. I'd been on edge since the night in the tent, hyper sensitive from always wanting him, and finally feeling him on me? It's purely magical, I have to bite my cheek to keep from screaming when he shoves two fingers inside me. Thrusting in and out, curling with every withdrawal. I was already close, 'Arthur, 'm so close.' I moan.

He nods, furthering the movement of his tongue, 'Tell me what ya' needin' girl.' He mumbles against my folds, the vibrations of his voice deepness have me gripping my sheets, clawing it them like a wild animal.

'Need you, need you in me.' I blurt out.

He laughs, 'Im already in you sweetheart.' Causing my back to arch again, oh sweet, sweet vibrations. I throw my head back into the pillow, and his hand slides from my hip to my lower abdomen, 'Be good and lay still now.' Then pushing down with his palm. That combined with his fingers, were– were enough. . .

Blinding pleasure surges through me as I come on his fingers, walls clenching, fluids flowing. I breathe heavily as he laps it up, 'In me Arthur, please.' I whine.

'Youre gonna have to be clearer girl.'

I loose my patience, 'Christ, Arthur! I need you cock in me.'

He smirks, 'Well why didnt you just say so?' His hands push my legs over his shoulders and he climbs on top of me, face to face, he kisses me passionately. Tasting of salt.

His tip graces my entrance, 'You sure, aint you?' He asks, kissing my jaw.

I bury my hand in his hair, 'Mmh, 'm sure.' And with that, pushes inside me. A breathy moan leaves our mouths simultaneously.

'Feelin' just as sweet as you taste sweetheart.' He whispers against my jaw, nuzzling his nose into my cheek and forehead against temple. The pulls out, to the tip, and shoves himself back in. Hard and passionate, he sets perfect pace. Rocking our bodies with every thrust, going deeper than I ever thought to be possible.

'Christ.' I groan, he's hitting that spot inside me with every motion. One hand moves though his back, scratching at it loosely, pulling on hip to get him even deeper. He grunts, in my ear. Might aswell be music, wouldnt be able to tell a difference. He snakes one hand up my torso, grabbing my throat gently and squeezing just enough. Brushing his thumb over my my jugular. Outlaw indeed.

I pull on his hair, to level his face with mine, I wanted his lips, his tongue. 'Kiss me cowboy.' I order, and he follows.

Kissing me deeply, in rhythm with his thrusts, In rhythm with the aching that was finally dulling in my body. Finally, I had I'm. Truly had him. Bliss flows through me as the knot in my stumache tightens, on the verge of my second orgasm. And telling by Arthurs thrusts, he wasn't far away either. In a few more thrusts we both topple over with a breathy moans, Arthur whispering, 'Good girl.' Over and over as his seed was filling me to the brim, seeping out around his member as he collapses on me. My legs falling to the bed. We gather our breaths in a comfortable silence, just enjoying the closeness of the other.

He lays and arm around me, pulling me close as we fall asleep. Both thinking of the other, just not having to imagine what holding the other would feel like anymore.

At some point during the night, Arthur had rolled me off of his arm and snuck out. I was to tired to think much of it, especially since he returned shortly after. By morning I had all but forgotten it, brushing it off as a dream.

As we got dressed and ready the next day, I handed Arthur his hat. He took it, but looked at me, 'Put it on, wanna see you in something of mine.' He says, smiling.

'Gladly.' I chirp, and put it on.

His smile slants, turning into a smirk, 'Now, girl. You know what that means don't you?'

'Why'd you think I was glad to put it on. If not just to tell Micah to shove it.' I chuckle.

'It suits ya' He ruffles my hair with the hat.

We walked out and fetch our horses, the grup giving us mixed looks as the spot us. Arthurs hat declaring to the public of his intentions, that I was his and that we would have a busy night. Sadie smirked knowingly, winking at me. While Sean and Lenny looked happy for us, Micah was the only one who glowered.

'I got a surprise.' He says as he saddles his shire.

'Yeah, whats that?' I tilt my head.

He nods to Sean who runs off, I quirk my eyebrow at Arthur, 'Whats all this?' I ask.

'You'll see, keep your eyes peeled sweetheart.'

Eventually, Sean comes back into view, leading a horse I don't recognize. A beautiful mustang, tan coat, and white forhead. I don't connect the dots at first, 'Sean got a new horse?' I ask, confused.

'Now why would I surprise you with a new horse for Sean?' He asks, chuckling. And the pieces snap into place.

'For me?' I ask, dumbfounded. A million questions circling my head.

'Got her yesterday, had Sean ride and get her earlier this morning. Since I was. . . Occupied.' He smirks.

'That's why you snuck out in the night, then?'

He hums, 'Mhm.'

'Well I'll be. . Arthur Morgan, thank you.' I smile, hugging him. He wraps his arm around me, holding me tightly, afraid I'd otherwise slip away.

'. .'S nothing.' He pecks my cheek, 'Go meet her.'

As we arrived back to camp, we got busy. Late into the night we spent in Arthurs tent, defining the meaning of cowgirl.

The next few hours we rode next to eachother on our way back to camp, flirting and laughing as Saint and I got used to eachother.

[sylusjinwoon]

{ 161 }

the dark knight.

jinwoo sung x fem.reader

you had just started out as a hunter when you were introduced to a tall man donned entirely in dark armor; a man who was shockingly hidden from within the depths of your shadow.

being labeled as an a-rank hunter, you had some skills, being highly proficient in using a weapon that you had spent most of your life perfecting, training with it ever since you first awakened as a hunter.

and by some miracle, you were accepted into an extremely well-known guild:

ahjin guild, ran by the famous sung jinwoo himself.

his story was nothing short of a miracle; a once weak, e-ranked hunter somehow managing to gain strength by unknown means, rising up the ranks with ease before quickly being labeled as the world's strongest hunter within what seemed like mere months.

unfortunately, you recall your own conference and introduction to the scene being lackluster in comparison, with your eyes remaining bright with hope as you spoke with some confidence during your interview. you promised your nation to use your strength as a sole means to protect those who could not defend themselves, earning a polite, round of applause from the audience.

you remember that day vividly, trailing your eyes across the crowd before your gaze landed on someone who stood out the most to you.

glowing, purple eyes were shining with amusement, and his applause actually seemed genuine the more he looked at you. even when you had caught him staring at you, he never once looked away from you.

and it was more than enough to make your whole body tremble with excitement in response.

shortly after your introduction, the chairman reached out to you, telling you that the president of ahjin guild wanted to speak to you, putting you directly in contact with jinwoo. the tall and handsome man then shook your hand while making you an offer you couldn't refuse.

"join my guild and you'll be paid handsomely."

the excitement that coursed through your veins was nearly indescribable, since you were so certain that you would be able to prove yourself to him; to gain some confidence as a hunter while joining jinwoo during these high level raids.

yet oddly enough-

this didn't seem to happen.

instead, you were often left at his office, working on sorting through applicants and reports for the guild while he went alone on such raids. when you asked the other members, jinho and soohyun, if this was normal, they would simply shrug and nod their head yes.

"yeah, i just help the prez look at the reports and stuff. haha, he lets me post on my insta account and has no issues with me lazing around sometimes."

"ah... the boss takes me with him on raids sometimes, but that's only to provide him with equipment. usually, boss doesn't even fight. he uses his shadow soldiers to do all the work during raids."

with both of their admissions swirling within your mind, you could feel your mounting fury growing from deep within you.

you did not become a hunter and join his guild to do mere office work.

you became a hunter to fight.

and you were finally going to do something about it.

your president was currently in his office, and when you looked into his office, you saw his grey eyes looking bored while pouring over some paperwork. with a click of your tongue, you enter his office, causing jinwoo to look up at you with a calm expression.

he says your name before looking back down at the paperwork. "hello, is there something that you need?"

red hot anger was still felt surging through your veins when you take quick strides toward him. you slam the palm of your hand against his stack of papers, preventing him from reading any further.

jinwoo meets your gaze with a raised eyebrow all while leaning back in his seat.

"you're upset."

"no shit, sherlock!" you hiss at him all while pointing an accusing finger at him, "when i first joined your guild three months ago, i had every intention of fighting by your side- not by being your secretary!"

his eyes begin to steadily glow purple again. "don't get too cocky. lately, there have been several a- to s-level gates appearing all across seoul. and you are certainly not ready to face them yet."

"w-what gives you the right to decide that for me! i have spent over 10 years training, being labeled as an a-rank! i can do these raids just fine!"

"you've had zero experience. you could get killed." jinwoo's voice was now filled with venom when he stands from his seat.

"i would have had some experience if you just let me join you on your raids!" you scoff at him, eyes practically shimmering in response to your anger. "and just why do you care if i get killed or not? if that happens, then at least i died for a good cause!"

suddenly, jinwoo's eyes flashed with an unknown emotion, the sensation being potent enough that he had to bite down on his bottom lip. you ignore the strange feeling of guilt that fills you, taking a step back, your voice shaky when you tell him.

"there's an a-rank gate that just appeared, and i'm going with or without you."

"don't you dare-"

jinwoo was about to stop you, but you were faster, flashing him your middle finger before taking advantage of your speed, running away from him and the rest of your guild. you ignore their cries of your name while following the coordinates on your phone to where the gate was.

within what felt like minutes, you arrive at the bright red gate, seeing several authorities push back the civilians that got too close to the gate. a determined expression paints your features as you duck beneath the yellow tape and step into the gate's periphery.

"halt, the members of the hunters guild has not arrived yet. i was given strict orders to not let any other hunters pass through-"

"i am a member of ahjin guild, and i was told by my president to start scoping out the gate. hunter sung says that he will be here shortly." you purposely lie through your teeth, watching with satisfaction when the man's eyes widen with response.

"you're a member of a-ahjin guild, with hunter sung's arrival being soon? then by all means, go on and enter! we're all counting on you!"

you adjust your hold on your weapon while giving him a nod, stepping through the red colored gate with your head held high.

the moment you went into the gate, you felt a little nauseous at the sensation of shifting into what felt like a different reality. surrounding you was a thick forest made even denser by the fog. had you have been a normal human, then there was no way your eyes could see through the fog-

you considered yourself lucky that you could make out the many beasts taking shape from within the fog, brandishing your weapon as you began to work, slashing through each monster that dared remain in your path.

your confidence was building; with each stroke of your weapon, you felt a strange sense of satisfaction as the monsters fell to their demise. the passing of time was unknown to you, yet you never once stopped your movements until you were certain that every monster had been defeated.

you stand amidst a pile of fallen bodies, the fog now clearing as your sight became even clearer in response. taking a step forward, your footsteps made a crunching sound against the ground when a sudden sensation of something powerful looming over you stops you in your tracks.

your breathing becomes labored when you felt an overwhelming presence behind you. you turn around slightly, only to let out a silent scream upon seeing a monstrous spider with venom dripping down its claws.

"shit!"

knowing that you couldn't properly defend yourself from its poison, you try to dash away from it-

but its gigantic form easily caught up with you, and you watch from your periphery as it raised its clawed legs toward you, slamming down on you with a slash! as it manages to pierce through your armor.

"UGH!" you let out a scream of pain, feeling the blood pouring from your wound as the poison spread through you, paralyzing you. you were filled with panic now, feeling your entire body go numb as you struggled to crawl away from the spider.

with each movement, you saw your shadow lengthen from behind you, the sight being so unexpected and strange that you stopped moving. your eyes remain rooted on your shadow, watching with wide eyes as what looked like a tall and muscular knight appear from your shadow's depths.

his glowing, purple eyes acknowledge you for a brief second before he takes a protective stance in front of you. your breathing comes out in labored gasps, watching as he brandishes two daggers before quickly gaining up on the poisonous spider.

the beast didn't stand a chance, for within seconds, the dark knight slashes through its body, seeming to make thousands upon thousands of cuts on its body. you could feel a deep breath escape from your lips in a labored manner as the beast falls, the putrid scent of its blood filling your nostrils, making you nearly gag in response.

as if sensing your distress, the knight that crawled out of your shadow faces you, taking quick strides towards you before placing your pliant form in his arms. as he held you, you became shocked at how solid he felt.

did all shadow soldiers feel this... real and alive?

unable to speak, you allow the shadowy knight to carry you back to safety, appearing within the forest's clearing as his raspy and deep voice spoke to you.

"unfortunately, the exit has closed. we will have to wait until it opens up once more. it may take a couple of hours."

he settles your body on the ground, reaching behind him to pull out a vial filled with a golden liquid. "drink this, it will get rid of the poison's effects."

the knight uncaps the vial for you, tilting the elixir into your parted lips as you swallowed the liquid, emptying the vial as the knight tosses it aside. within a few minutes, you felt the sensation return back to your extremities. testing out the movement on your arm and legs, you call out to the shadow soldier.

"did jinwoo set you up for this?"

he was silent for several seconds before letting out what sounded like a huff, "yes, you could say that."

"tch, why is your master such an asshole?"

the soldier seemed taken aback by your outburst. "a-an asshole? you view my liege in such a manner?"

you narrow your eyes a bit, noticing the slight break within his voice. thinking that it was nothing (for now), you sigh and shake your head, moving up your legs so that you could rest your chin against your kneecaps.

"what did jinwoo name you?"

the shadow soldier was quiet again, as if deep in thought before answering, "he did not give me a name, but many refer to me as 'the first.'"

you hum and look down at your torn armor. "do you respect jinwoo?"

"of course i do... do you?" first asks you in a seemingly nonchalant manner.

"begrudgingly yes." you admit to him with a pout, picking at the ends of your ruined armor. "i hate how cocky he is all the time... and how he's always right."

the last part comes off as a mere whisper, catching the dark knight's attention.

"you think he's always right? how so?"

you could feel the tears of frustration appear in your eyes, "it's just... i hated how jinwoo won't let me join him in his raids... i wanted to prove myself; to prove myself worthy of him."

"worthy?" your words seem to have piqued the knight's interest.

"yeah... i just really admire and respect him." you finally admit to the shadow soldier with your cheeks heating up in response. "i used his story as motivation for me to become brave and stronger, and i wanted so badly to fight by his side! but he never would let me..." you sigh and meet the knight's gaze, "you have no idea how happy i was when i was able to enter this gate and fight...!"

your body began to shake as you began to curl up in response to your admission, "but, i fell short. i couldn't take out the boss of this dungeon... and i got severely paralyzed because of it. jinwoo was right, i wasn't ready-"

"but you were brave and tenacious despite it all." the soldier interrupts you, preventing you from speaking ill of yourself any further.

you saw wisps of shadows appear from your periphery and a sharp hand gently framing at your face. your head was then gently tilted upwards as you were forced to meet first's gaze.

"i was wrong... you're strong enough to take on anything... and i shouldn't have held you back."

when cracks were seen in his dark armor, you felt your eyes go wide in response, the shadowy armor now disappearing as it revealed a familiar man to you.

"looks like i ran out of mana... i can't keep up this appearance anymore."

your throat turns dry, seeing jinwoo dressed only in his dress pants as his entire upper body remained bare. you kept on sputtering his name when his large hand frames at your face. jinwoo lets out gentle coos of your name, resting his forehead against yours while pressing a kiss against your skin.

"do you want to know why i was so eager to have you in my guild... and why i never let you do anything?"

feeling overwhelmed at his sudden transformation, you could only manage a nod in response.

jinwoo chuckles a bit, wrapping his arms around you as he brought you even closer to his chest. "the reasoning is simple, my dear, and it's solely because i wish to protect you while remaining close to you."

your breath hitches in response to his confession, causing you to meet his gaze once more, "y-you... you want to protect me?"

the s-ranked hunter's eyes began to glow a deeper shade of purple, seeming to shine with pure mirth before admitting to you, "of course i wish to protect you; i want to protect every single person that i love-"

"and that especially includes you."

your heart was suddenly felt racing within the confines of your chest, with you being held tightly within jinwoo's embrace with his lips hovering over your own.

"...may i?" his voice becomes uncharacteristically shy, and you manage to give him a shy nod before jinwoo dives in towards your lips, sealing it perfectly in a kiss that conveyed his love and devotion toward you.

and with his lips perfectly slotted against yours, you figured that there was no better way to pass the time than to share a million kisses with the man that you have always admired and adored.

a.n. - so re-reading solo leveling's later chapters, where he fights antares, i get so heated, remembering how hot he looked donned in armor made of complete and utter darkness, like dear god jinwoo, just take me- I AM YOURS! 😭

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

[thefiery-phoenix]

Do you do a/b/o? If yes, can you do platonic yandere avengers where the reader is an alpha but the avengers don't really acknowledge that and treat them like a fragile thing

Sure, I haven't really written for the A/b/o dynamic that often so forgive me if my writing might seem a bit rusty here

Everyone born in the world had to adhere to the rules and norms of society, based on the divisions and the hierarchy of being an alpha, a beta or an omega. Your mother was an omega and your father was an alpha, you were thankful that your father wasn't one of those toxic alphas that mistreated their partner. You frankly couldn't really care less about what you were, as long as you got to lead your life on your own terms. Unfortunately you were a late bloomer and it was still undecided what you were, your parents were somewhat worried about you but you were taking it easy. You felt like you had everything under control, even after you joined the Avengers which was saying something till the day finally arrived when your scent started acting up without your knowledge

Of course, you liked the Avengers and considered them your family, but it annoyed you whenever they'd baby you and infantilize you like you couldn't do something by yourself. You're rarely ever allowed to go on missions without someone keeping an eye out for you and even then, you're just handling things from being safely inside the Quinjet which does make you grumpy at times since you're not getting that thrill and excitement of being in a fight despite your powers and skills. Every time you'd complain about it, Steve would just smile at you like you said something adorable and Bucky and Natasha would have amused smirks playing on their faces while Tony openly snickers at your frustration and pats your head and coos at you in a slightly patronizing manner that you're too young for such things. Bruce can understand your frustrations but he has to agree with them, you were pretty young and it was still undecided WHAT you were, if your phermones started acting up during a fight or a battle people could take advantage of it which was something NONE of them wanted happening

What you thought to be a regular day for you turned out to be a day that changed the course of your life completely. You were in the Quinjet as usual and while Steve, Bucky, Natasha and Clint and Tony were busy fighting against the HYDRA agents outside, some of them managed to sneak inside the Quinjet, however before you were about to attack and fight to stand your ground, you felt a strange sensation inside your gut. You tried to ignore the feeling but it just continued to grow stronger to the point where you could barely even stand properly. Your face turned pale and beads of sweat started forming on your head as the room was filled with the scent of a lingering burning odor in the atmosphere. Bruce was with you and he instantly knew you were going through the process of finding out your identity and could make out that you were an Alpha from your scent

"Well, we have an Alpha on our hands here boys...we could use someone like you'' said one of the HYDRA agents with a nasty smirk on his face and tried to tranquilize you before Wanda used her magic on them and blasted them away from your range. The mission was quickly aborted since their main priority was to ensure that you got back to the compound so you could get the help that you needed. You were clutching your abdomen in pain as your scent kept growing stronger and your face started looking flushed and you could feel like your temperate soared, like you had a fever and you didn't know why but you had a sudden balloon of pent up rage and anger growing inside you while you squirmed around in discomfort. Natasha stroked your hair with a sympathetic look on her face and Wanda tried to use her magic to ease your mind from the pain and discomfort

After you reached the compound, Bruce ran a few tests for you and handed you some medicine and it was soon an established fact that you were indeed, an Alpha. Most of them were frankly quite surprised at the news when they heard that you were an Alpha since you didn't really come off an Alpha to them. They still saw you as their precious little angel that needed protection and guidance nonetheless, if anything it just increased their possessiveness and obsessive levels of protecting you even more. Being an Alpha means that you now have quite the bounty on your head, there were plenty of dangers you'd be exposed to which was why they'll all take extra steps and measures to keep you safe like Tony asking JARVIS you don't leave the tower without their permission and giving them access to all your social media activities and whatnot

They don't really care about how strong you are anymore, they see you as someone they need to protect. You're a little thing that doesn't know the ways of the world, let them keep you safe. It's dangerous outside anyways, so you won't really be allowed to leave the compound anymore. And even if you do, Steve, Bucky and Natasha will always accompany you while Clint is ready on standby as a backup in case someone gets too close for their liking to give them a 'little warning' with his arrows.

You'll most definitely be spoiled rotten with the avengers since they tend to baby you A LOT! And unfortunately for you, that also means no doing dangerous stuff and no going on missions with them or even entering the kitchen for that matter since who knows WHAT sort of dangerous items you could injure yourself with there

They're like your very own personal body guards and they've all formed a schedule who gets to spend time with you on what days and everything. Sometimes it even ends up in fights since they ALL want to spend time with you lol, but be glad that another Civil War doesn't take place. They'll cuddle you and you'll be suffocated with their presence that it might be a bit overwhelming for you at times but hey, on the bright side no one would ever mess with you again. As suffocating and smothering their presence might be for you, they just want what's best for you. There's no reason for you to burden yourself with the nonsense happening around the world, and do you really need to see your parents? They can't keep you safe like the avengers do so...your new home is with them and they have no intention of ever letting you have your old life back. But it's all for your own good in the end and they hope you'll get to see how much they love you one fine day

[akariarda]

Meetings we haven't expected-Part1

Garmadon dies in Crystallized after a battle with Overlord. After the merge, his good side has been reincarnated and he finds Lloyd in Monastery with Arin and Sora.

Request from ao3

Lloyd sighed. It was a tough day, he had finally finished training and could rest.

He looked out the window and thought. He thought about those who were lost in the merge and needed to be found, and about those he would never find again... His father.

It happened for the second time, this time not as close, but it still hurt.

He remembered it as if it were yesterday.

☆☆☆☆☆

"By burying this plant, Cristopher, may it forever grow in this garden as a memory of my... my father." He managed to say through tears.

"It will be okay, Lloyd," Kai comforted him.

Everyone comforted him, but they couldn't empathize with him. They felt sorry, but it was as if they felt more sorry for him than for Garmadon.

And it all started with the battle against Overlord...

~~~~~~~

"Father!"Lloyd shouted after the Overlord hit Garmadon.

"I can't..."Garmadon caughted.

"It's okay," Lloyd comforted him, "Don't try to talk."

Garmadon returned to his normal form. "I'm sorry, Lloyd."

"Hold on," Lloyd worriedly spoke, "You'll be okay. I'll get you."

"Save... Save yourself. It's too late for me..." Garmadon coughed his last breath.

"No!!" Lloyd desperately shouted.

"Grieve not," Overlord laughed, "You will soon be joining him."

~~~~~~

Lloyd couldn't help but smile, wishing his father would come back to life as he did then.

~~~~~~

"Let's get out of here before the place explodes," Garmadon suddenly rose from the dead.

"You.." Lloyd's jaw almost dropped,

"What?" Garmadon confusedly asked,

"You're not dying?" Lloyd was astonished.

"Of course not."Garmadon said as if it was a normal thing.

"You were faking?!" Lloyd couldn't believe what he was seeing.

"I was helping you achieve your Oni Form!" Garmadon proudly said.

Lloyd was annoyed, "I didn't need Oni Form! It didn't even work!"

"It would have, if you hadn't been scared by your own reflection," Garmadon angrily told Lloyd.

~~~~~~

"Lloyd," Misako came to Lloyd and hugged him.

"Mom," Lloyd tried to say something without crying.

"Everything is as it should be," she tried to comfort him while gently wiping tears from his face.

She also felt sorry, although probably not as much as usual. They hadn't talked since he comed back.

Surely for her, he never even lived again. She probably looked sick now just because it hurt to see him in that state.

Was there no one who completely understood him?

Then he remembered Master Wu!

He believed in his brother, always in everything.

~~~~~~

"It's true. She helped," Garmadon said about Harumi, "Not as much as I did, perhaps, but why argue over details."

"I'm so proud of you, brother!" Wu proudly smiled.

~~~~~~

He tried to go to Master Wu, but he had locked himself in his room to study ancient scrolls.

After Lloyd, he was the hardest for him. Lloyd barely held back from screaming in anger, just when they started to have a good relationship again...

Then he died after the battle with the Overlord, just after Lloyd thought everything was over..

☆☆☆☆☆☆

"Enough!" Lloyd scolded himself, "It makes no sense to think about it."

He said to himself, unaware of what was happening.

No more Cristopher, memories of Garmadon, Garmadon is no more...

Now it's best to go prepare training for Arina and Sora.

*******

"Sorry," Sensei Garmadon apologized as he passed through... A crossroad?

Was that what this place was called?

At least that's what everyone called it now. He didn't know how much time had passed since he woke up surprised as a human.

He just knew he wanted to find Lloyd as soon as possible. He hoped he would be happy to see him...

That he could tell him everything. And apologize for all the bad things he had done...

"Excuse me?" He asked a passerby, "Do you know where they are, especially the green ninja, I am his... This old acquaintance."

"This way," the man coldly said and led him to another tent.

Everyone seemed busy here! That's why he left with Lloyd and Misako outside the city, long ago, to find peace.

"Lloyd?" His heart was beating wildly as he entered the tent, but he didn't find what he was looking for.

"What?" Sensei Garmadon gasped as he looked at pictures of ninjas.

Children leaving flowers.

"Did they... leave?"Sensei Garmadon asked disbelievingly.

"Unfortunately," a lady answered him, "But some new ninjas have arrived."

"New ninjas?" Sensei Garmadon exclaimed in astonishment.

"Yes," the lady smiled, "I heard they are now in the monastery..."

"Monastery of Spinjitzu?!" Garmadon suddenly exclaimed. "Where?!"

"Up there." The lady pointed, obviously frightened by his sudden reaction.

He wanted to apologize but didn't have time. Sensei Garmadon ran as fast as he could, without attracting too much attention, towards the monastery.

When he finally saw it, his heart fluttered once again.

He had a feeling he would find Lloyd there, his only son and his only pride.

[pen-of-roses]

Sunrise

Heyyyy another one for @ockissweek, and I think qualifies as soft? I think?

“All things considered, that went better than expected.” Sitting upright, he winced at the pain still throbbing in his head and down his back.

Fluttering hands appeared in front of him, ones that knew better than to touch even as every instinct must be screaming to help based off the anxious trill. They were followed by Gem’s face, creased with concern and haloed by their red curls, still in disarray from bed. “Isn’t there anything I can do?”

“Water, if you would be so kind, dear. And your charming company.” He flashed a smile.

Their face predictably went almost as red as their hair, easing that chord of concern slightly. “Water, right, yes of course. Water I can get. Right.”

Stamping down his own amusement as they hurried back to the kitchen, he managed to pull himself to his feet. The short few steps to the window growing marginally easier with each second.

He shouldn’t have been out for more than a few hours at most, this particular version an all too familiar one to not know the usual timeframe. Still, he’d rather be sure.

The thick curtain parted to reveal the city below. Though it was still mostly lit solely by the street lights and the ones spilling from buildings, candles and magical alike, the clouds had parted enough to reveal the first traces of dawn.

“I wish you two wouldn’t antagonize each other so much,” Gem said as they joined him. “I don’t like seeing it.”

He hummed, taking the glass from them. “My apologies for upsetting you.”

They just shook their head and looked out the window. The air around them still sung of concern, though it was mixed with other things he didn’t particularly care to parse at the moment. There was no anger though.

“It’s beautiful isn’t it?”

He hummed a questioning noise, following their gaze back out to the city. Beautiful was not a word he would use to describe it. Dangerous, hazy, gray, haunting, perhaps, but beautiful?

“The sunrise. I never really get the chance to see it with all the late nights, but it’s kind of peaceful. And colorful.” Gem sighed, a wistful thing mixing with a note of contentment.

The colorful part was accurate now, especially against the usual clouds, as the sunlight painted the horizon in soft, hazy pastels. They lightened the dark stones of the buildings and reflected and blurred together on the water.

He swallowed and looked away.

Peaceful though, was another matter.

They looked peaceful though, staring out at the sky in an oversized shirt, hand wrapped around their tea. With the dreamy expression, and the lingering traces of glitter catching the light, they were beautiful. Stunning. Perfectly befitting their name. Deserving of everything more than this shard and it’s city. More than him. Better than him.

Then they turned to catch him staring. There was no mistaking the happy hum surrounding them as they smiled, all captivating and soft and innocent and all things too good. “Hey.”

He raised an eyebrow, keeping his face passive even as that thing in his chest beat harder, “Hello.”

“I am happy to see you though. Thought for sure you’d have already disappeared.”

“Well, it is a bit harder to get rid of me than that. And how could I stay away from you?”

“Flatterer.”

“Naturally, especially when you make it so easy to do so. Truly, I think you might be one of the best people in the world.” And wholly undeserving of this mess.

“Shut up.” Their face went red again, the curtain of hair falling to cover it.

He laughed as he tilted their chin back up. “Quite a difficult thing to get me to do, I assure you. Though, if you have ideas, I’m all ears.”

The blush deepened, but green eyes met his. “I might have one. May I kiss you?”

“Oh, just a kiss? It might take more than—“

“Conor?”

He relaxed in the face of their far too honest expression. “Yes. Of course you can, my dear Gemstone.”

They take his glass to put on the table beside their mug. Then they’re turning back with that smile, and the world constrict to them.

Hesitant hands cradled his face, light and just barely there to guide his head down the short distance to theirs. Holding him like he was something precious. A ridiculous concept.

The fuzzy, slight lightheaded, perhaps drunk feeling was probably from only waking an hour or so ago.

Their lips met, first a tender brush, barely more than a shared breath. His hands found their hips to pull them closer.

To anchor himself.

Then Gem kissed him again, lingering and soft, and gentle. Hopelessly gentle. Unfairly gentle. Achingly gentle.

There’s the pleasant harmony of their joy, peace, happiness in the moment surrounding them in a dizzying siren song.

And they’re still holding him with such care. Pulling back only enough to rest their foreheads together, they smile that infuriatingly soft smile again.

It’s too much.

His eyes close in the face of it, and he does the only thing he can.

Kiss them again.

So so achingly gentle. Painful in a way that twists and pulls at that space behind his ribs. He should pull away, a scream building in his throat saying he didn’t deserve it, how could he deserve it, Abyss, they deserved better, deserved more, deserved everything, deserved safety away from him, didn’t they realize they deserved so much better than him?

Better was a man who might have been able to say those things, let slip all those secrets so Gem could run.

Instead, though, he’s a selfish man who can only cling desperately to him. Can only enjoy getting drunk off the pleases little sighs. Can only hope this moment lasts forever.

When Gem pulls away again, he’s not ready to let him go. But they only wrap their arms around him and hide their face in the crook of his neck. Content. Happy.

It’s absurd and ridiculous and soft.

He holds them. Wills his hands not to tighten in their shirt and betray everything buried within him, because if they ask, he’d have to answer, and he’s not ready.

But.

But perhaps he can have this moment now. He kisses their head, and looks out the window.

The sky is brighter now. Painted with more soft blue under the clouds, but there’s still the hint of reds and pinks and oranges. Still the hint of something new beginning.

Perhaps, Gem was right. Perhaps it is beautiful.

[xaytheloser]

Jelly Pearls and Oysters

Plip. Plop. Plip. Plop.

The sound of falling jam could never be more annoying to Jelly Donut than it was now, knowing it was her own jam dripping from her unattended wound.

Couldn't the damn thing slow down a little? She was more worried about her stained coat than she was the wound itself after all! But no, it just had to keep spilling jam!

"Hrmph..." Jelly Donut stifled a huff as she brought a hand up to examine the gash across her chest. "...what a nasty little thing." She poked and prodded at the wound, narrowing her eyes at the crumbling dough around it.

It didn't hurt, at least as much as it should if she were a normal cookie. Fortunately enough she wasn't normal.

With a disgruntled snort, she'd discarded her coat- tossed it to the laundry basket for a later fix, and begun to move to the bathroom off the side of her room.

Can't believe I let that bug get a hit on me, how-

A click pulled her from her thoughts, as she stopped at the doorway to her bathroom.

With a turn of her head, she looked over her shoulder, a smile forming to her lips with the littlest of squints.

"Ostera, how rare of you to join me so soon after returning." She murmured, a light mirth in her voice as her wound was forgotten in favor of focus on the cookie behind her. "You look as red as a beet, my dear."

As she turned to face the other cookie, she noticed his express drop as his gaze fell to her chest, worry seeming to fill his eyes.

Catching the worry in the other cookie's eyes, she couldn't help herself from smirking. "Now what's with that look?" She spoke with tease as she took slow steps towards him.

"...J-Jelly- what-..." Ostera Oyster had started to speak, yet faltered as he reached his hand out to Jelly Donut, his fingers lightly brushing against the wound.

"Happened?" She finished for him, tilting her head as she settled onto her knee. She earned a hesitant nod in response. "A client went a little haywire, that's all, nothing to worry about."

Yet that didn't seem to calm the other cookie in the slightest, if anything, it set him off.

It wasn't even seconds before she felt his hands on her cheeks, holding her face as he brought her closer to him.

Such actions weren't things she didn't expect from Ostera Oyster, but she still managed to be caught off guard by it, her face flushing a warm red color at his touch.

"Darling...who?" His voice, originally soft and filled with hesitance, worry, had dropped to a low, menacing rumble, an underlying irritation simmering in his eyes.

In turn to Ostera Oyster's vexation, adoration filled Jelly Donut's eyes, her smile returning with a newfound warmth as she squinted her eyes.

She settled a hand on his cheek, gently thumbing the dough under his eye with a hum. "I'll tell you later, my dear." She murmured as she pressed her forehead to his, a slight purr in her voice.

"Help me wrap this up first, please?" She asked, her smile growing when his anger dissipated at her request, a slight smile formed on his own lips.

He gave a small nod, nuzzling against her dough as he murmured softly; "Of course...anything for you darling."

Neither cookie talked about the body Jelly Donut happened upon the next morning, though she felt she could compare the gesture to that of a cat bringing it's owner a mouse.

they are so silly i love them

/POS I

FUCKING

LOVE

THESE

TWO

SO

FUCKING

MUCH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP SO HARD RN /POS

[callahanisms]

Thank you the post was gorgeous. And sorry for bringing up reader's gender. Old habits die hard. Could you do the same idea (from aegon and rhaenyra pist)for Alicent and Aemond? I promise to leave you be after that x)

hi! of course! you can also feel free to continue pestering me after this post. i love interacting with my readers!!

i also got your other message in my inbox, so for this post (y/n) will be someone who was unwillingly part of the black faction of the targaryen war of succession. (kind of goes against the hcs but it's all good and for fun)

alicent hightower

attempts to sabotage rhaenyra and her claim were futile. no matter what you did, they always managed to come back from their setback. and eventually, it did not take long for them to figure out it was you that had been sabotaging them.

daemon offers to slice off your head for treason, but it appeared rhaenyra was merciful. she says that you are to remain their prisoner.

safe to say, alicent no longer got your ravens.

when king’s landing fell to rhaenyra’s forces, she thought about jumping to her death. she thought about the freedom that would come. but soldiers took her away before she could reach the window.

she was dragged into the great hall and an unnatural sound left her when she saw you. “(y/n)!”

alicent runs over to you and she cups your face. your eyes were glazed over, as if in a trance. she notices your dirty clothes and the state of your being. “what have they done to you? my dear darling.”

she turns to rhaenyra, who sat upon the iron throne. she wore that golden crown of hers. her father’s crown. it almost made the former queen flinch when she saw its familiar shining light.

“we have done nothing. (y/n) should consider themselves lucky that my king consort did not execute them.” rhaenyra looks at her childhood friend. “albeit they do not fare well with travel.”

“you are cruel rhaenyra!”

“cruel? cruel?” she stands, taking a few steps forward. “do you want to know what is cruel, step-mother? usurping my throne under false claims that my father made. causing the death of my children!”

“they were bastards.”

“and does that mean they get to die?” the queen lets out a scoff. “in a way, you were the reason why your son’s eye got taken out.”

“do not dare speak about my son!” alicent exclaims. you could hear her voice crack. “where is he?”

“he is still alive. at the insistence of his lover. you, on the other hand.” daemon speaks up. “i believe it is best we do not let her get away.”

that could only mean one thing.

“rhaenyra! please!” alicent begs. “have mercy!”

“your sons did not have mercy. your father did not have mercy. you did not have mercy. and you will get none.”

your own breath was shaky but you managed to get the words out. “you will not hurt her. you have to get through me first.”

“how lovely.” rhaenyra sits back on the iron throne. “you are free to do what you want daemon.”

the king consort smiles as he pulls out dark sister.

“it is time the both of you join the vulture known as otto hightower.”

aemond targaryen

it was a miracle that he managed to survive the battle against daemon. how he didn’t die? he would never know. albeit his dragon was dead, beaten by the speed of the blood wyrm.

he went with the blacks willingly, a prisoner in dragonstone.

but what aemond one-eye didn’t expect was to see you: his lover. and to watch you undo his shackles and help him out of his cell to a nicer room. you scrubbed him clean and gave him his eyepatch back.

but he tossed it away and kissed you harder than ever, pushing you onto the bed.

that night, he ravished you like no other time. and when you both were done, he just buried his face in your chest and held you close.

cells did some good for the man. he had more time to contemplate his life and the choices that had led to him being thrown into the cell.

killing lucerys did nothing to ease the anger in his heart. it only made him grow more bitter and more angry.

you could even recall his anger in his voice, the way he talked to you unnatural. it hurt your heart to see him in pain. but there was no time to talk to him about how he was talking to you.

you had to go. your family would fight for rhaenyra and to remain in king’s landing would ultimately make you a political prisoner.

aemond hadn’t seen you in so long. and he just pounced when you two were finally alone in a comfortable bedroom. (smaller than the one at the red keep, yes, but certainly a luxury for a prisoner)

“i missed you.” is all he said before drifting off to sleep.

your peaceful morning was interrupted by daemon barging into the room. he wasn’t phased seeing the two of you together and told you to get dressed and see rhaenyra in the throne room.

you accompanied aemond to the throne room. and rhaenyra stood up. her body language told you that she wanted to just grab the nearest sword and thrust it into her brother’s body.

but she restrained herself.

“brother.”

“dearest sister.” aemond’s voice was a little hoarse from the previous night. “i finally get to see you after you locked me up for gods know how long. you are fortunate enough to have someone as kind as (y/n) amongst your court.”

“it was (y/n) who pled that you get a room.” he looks surprised. “you should consider yourself lucky that i did not have you immediately executed when you became our prisoner. you killed my son.”

“it was not on purpose.”

“really?” she steps down and makes her way over. “you killed my son! it not matters about purpose!” she yells. her voice rings out in the hall and it sounds broken.

how could it not be?

you stand in front of your lover. “my queen. please.”

“do not try (y/n). i tolerate this because of your mother and father. i do not tolerate you sleeping with our prisoner.”

“i swear to you on the graves of my father and brother, that prince aemond, your brother, did not intend to kill luke. i cared for luke like a brother. but please trust me. what would your father say?”

that seemed to calm her down a bit.

“your father would want you to be merciful. you said it yourself, you do not want to rule a kingdom of ash. and if we kill your brother, if you kill him, you will only rule ash.”

rhaenyra looks at aemond and her eyes linger on him before sighing. she looks at you with that familiar authoritative look. “you are responsible for him. if anything happens, it will befall you.”

“yes, your grace.”

[miraruinada]

When Granja Recognized Iovan

"Subjectification is love. But why do we love someone like that? Let's leave the matter here. I gave it a formula. I was talking about self-relating negativity in terms which are full of traps. That's not unusual. Everything I say has traps. Why on earth would I say it was about something else when it's about the spirit? We know that language never gives, never allows us to formulate anything but things which have three, five, twenty-five meanings. The subject presumed to know."

Granja, as he spoke in this lecture, could not finish this specific line of thought. Iovan Herrera, before then simply a person who'd sneaked into those lectures, felt a desire to stand up, walk up to the podium, and wash her hands inside Granja's pitcher of water. Granja watched her without saying a word. Iovan continued without saying a word. They did not speak until at last other students stood up to try and drag her away.

"What's this? Are you going to rough me up? I was just expressing myself, like this gentlewoman, understand?"

"Yes, I understand."

"I'd just like to add I specifically chose this moment to intervene, and that the composite body which up to fifty years ago could be called culture, that is, people expressing in fragmented ways what they feel, is now a lie and can only called spectacle. The backdrop of which is tied to, and serves as, a link between all alienated individual activities.

"If all people here and now were to join together and, freely and authentically, wanted to communicate, it'd be on a different basis, with a different perspective. Of course, this can't be expected of students who by definition will one day become the managers of our system, with their justifications, and who are also the public whom, with a guilty conscience, will pick up the remains of the decaying spectacle.

"That's why I chose this precise moment to have some fun, to be like those guys who express themselves authentically. I didn't do it to annoy you, but I did choose this particular moment."

The lecture hall applauded. Granja asked Iovan to sit down beside him, and began to speak in response. A few students lingered next to Iovan. Some of them, Ignacio Otxo, Hugo Valdez, were among the first members of the Young Farmers.

"So, let's see what we can do. By expressing yourself in this way, in front of this audience which is more than ready to hear these revolutionary statements. What was it exactly that you wanted to do?"

"That's the question which parents, sages, ideologues, bureaucrats, and the polis always ask the growing number of people who act like me. My answer is, I want to do just one thing. Revolution. It's clear that, at the stage we've reached at this moment, one of our main targets will be exactly those moments when people like you are bringing to people like these justification for their miserable lives. That's what you do."

"Not at all."

After a few seconds of silence, Iovan splashed water on Granja and stormed off. Some of the students followed her. Ignacio stayed, Hugo followed Iovan. Granja was not angered at her actions, only annoyed that his cigarette was snuffed from the water. As he lit his cigarette and wiped his clothes with a napkin, he continued.

"Let's hope there'll be a new organization. It's not impossible, you know? It's not impossible that we see it born in the form of a rule which is called, which goes by the name of that supreme aspiration: that is the whole. As she was just saying, we should all be a part of it, we should close ranks together to achieve... Well, what exactly? What does organization mean if not a new order? A new order is the return to something which, if you remember the premise from which I started, is the order of the discourse of the master, simply that.

"It's the one word which hasn't been mentioned, but it's the very term which organization implies. It is quite conceivable that there be a lot of progress in this sense. If we can call that progress. I mean, what we discover from getting close to what is happening to a certain number of people, that is, that certain something invaluable, which she referred to as will just now, subjective will. This subjective will, if we look at in an absolutely permanent sense, can only manifest itself through its own division, since it is doubtless meant to suggest something to us. It's not, however, our image of the achievement of total harmony. You heard an appeal, one familiar to me. It was very touching, despite the fact that it led to a few problems with my tie.

"It's love! It's love telling you that if we were all like that, all together, loving each other, it would herald the dawn of a New Tenochtitlan. We've seen it various times in history, but never at just any old moment. It happens because something manifests itself which is not strictly within the order of discourse, because there has been a discourse which is proliferating and engendering innumerable little ones, which makes all of you terribly uncomfortable. There is a scientific discourse whose very presence threatens us with the idea that things will be resolved in terms of mechanics, ballistics, equilibria, currents, and the more we understand the better. We'll soon be like products, a certain type of individual who'll fit in with everyone and everything.

"But experience shows us that things aren't like that. What experience shows us is that it is one language, the one you've all grown up with, which you received from the world, from your family. It's something which couldn't have been transmitted to you without bringing with it a whole vibrant, confused reality which was formed by the desires of your parents. So an individual's upbringing is influenced by the parent, by the parental language, by that fundamental something. That is where love turns towards that kind of vibrant call, to that union with... What? With something which is obviously very alienating. What is really incredible is that she imagined that, by beating the sky with her fists, that this alienation which was exactly what she was telling you about is a sort of... An appeal for what? For more of what? For more truth?

"Her words were identical to the truth she believed at that moment, and she became the instrument, the messenger, the angel come to rescue you from your sleep, in the end!"

This incident was also the moment of birth of the Young Farmers.

[its-all-or-nothing94]

Ravenblade - Part 4 // Ivar Lothbrok x OC

Summary: A tremendous wounded Liv is being cared for after the battle by a surprisingly soft Ivar, so she needs to get the advice of her big brother

Warnings: Language, war wounds, blood

Pairing: Ivar x OC

Tags: @liebgotts-lovergirl, @menari

A/N: Whoooo here I am back from my little Tumblr break!

The following day Liv is awake early. She keeps thinking about the sex with Ivar, and a smile creeps onto her face.

"Well? Did someone have a good night?" asks Sven, who has just come to stand beside her.

"Didn't I tell you it was none of your business?" asks Liv, annoyed, as she laces up her bracers.

"The cripple seems to be in high spirits," he says then and Liv rolls her eyes. She knocks Sven against the shoulder.

"Don't challenge me, Sven!" she grumbles, but Sven continues.

"What? It's like that. And your face is always graced with a smile too. Was he really that good?" he says, and Liv has had enough.

She gets up and stands in front of her friend. Behind her, the sons of Ragnar are just coming out of their tent.

"You asked for it," she hisses then and pushes herself off a tree trunk so she can reach him better. Sven, however, avoids her and grabs her around the waist. He pushes her back, but she manages to stay on her feet. Anger, however, spreads through Liv. She attacks again and has now taken her dagger. She lets it slide through her fingers, and Ivar's eyes grow big when he sees her fighting like this.

Liv does a pike roll, kicks Sven in the knee so that he sinks in and then wraps her legs around his upper body. With a swing, she drops backwards and pulls him with her. Sven lands on the floor and Liv is quickly back on her feet.

But Sven has also had the same training as her, so he too is quickly back on his feet. She tackles him a few times before he grabs her arm and pulls her over him. Liv deftly rolls off and lands a matching punch to the area of his stomach.

The air is forced out of Sven, and he becomes careless so Liv can hold her dagger to his neck.

"Don't you ever do that again! Do you hear me?" she hisses so that only he can hear. A real crowd has slowly formed around them.

Sven exhales shallowly and then nods. Liv slowly takes the dagger from his neck and turns away. But then she twists around again and gives him a small cut on the cheek.

"Don't forget who's in charge here," she hisses, stomping angrily.

As she passes her brother and his brothers, she looks briefly into Ivar's eyes but immediately moves on. She angrily throws her dagger into the nearest tree when she is out of earshot.

"Fucking hell!" she yells, ruffling her hair.

She hates having to discipline her people like this. Sven is ahead of everyone. They are friends, but even he has his limits, which he should not cross. But maybe she was overreacting a little. Could it be that Ivar is to blame? That she becomes so sensitive? Behind her, Liv then hears hooves stomping. Of course, it's him. Slightly amused, he sits in his chariot and looks at Liv.

"Are you okay?" he asks, crossing his arms.

"Why wouldn't I be?" she asks sarcastically. Furious, she stomps towards the tree and pulls out her dagger. "What are you doing here?" she asks, turning to Ivar.

"The others want to go. We're just waiting for you. Your people won't come without you." Liv takes a deep breath before joining Ivar on the chariot. He slaps the reins, and they drive off.

"What happened there before?" he asks suddenly, and Liv is surprised that he even cares.

"What do you do with people who cross their line?" she asks back, and Ivar thinks momentarily. Then he shrugs.

"Then I guess he's lucky you like him."

Again and again, Liv thrust her sword into Saxon soldiers. She has been with the first troop, with Björn, Ubbe, Hvitserk and Sigurd and is now treading through the mud. Her face was splattered with blood after only a few minutes, and her thirst for blood had awakened.

Even her long blond hair, tied in several braids into a high ponytail, has already turned slightly red. She ducks, strikes and draws her sword through the bodies. Despite the effort, Liv cannot suppress a smile. This is what she was made for. To fight.

Again and again, she raises her shield to ward off blows and slashes. She doesn't feel the minor cuts inflicted on her because of the adrenaline. Whether it's minutes or hours, Liv can't tell, but it wouldn't make any difference either. And then another Saxon runs towards her.

He manages to take the shield from her, but she is no less dangerous without it. She draws her sword across the soldier's stomach, then stabs him in the chest. Satisfied, Liv watches him go down.

She stands in the middle of the battlefield. Her bloodied face looks around. Liv's chest rises and falls rapidly, as does her breathing. Then she sees the prince. Aethelwulf. Liv has met him several times, as his father has used her services.

He looks at her in surprise, and she can only grin. But then he raises his bow and shoots an arrow at her. It hits her shoulder. Enraged, Liv breaks off the shaft and tries to raise her arm, making it complicated.

At that moment, Aethelwulf raises his bow again, and the second arrow lands in Liv's stomach. She is too slow to deflect it somehow. She looks down at herself in disbelief, and at that moment, the rest of the large army comes running behind Aethelwulf, forcing him to retreat.

Liv, however, can barely hold on and then goes down. Unable to say anything, she lies there in pain. She has carelessly dropped her sword on the ground.

Satisfied, Ivar sits on his chariot and watches his army slaughter the Saxons. Screams and groans and the smell of blood fill the air. He feels superior to everyone now as if Odin is tapping him directly on the shoulder and rejoicing. He is so full of pride.

Defeated, the Saxon army retreats and flees from the heathen army. Slowly Ivar leads his chariot across the battlefield as his brothers meet him. They all laugh proudly and congratulate the youngest on his victory, for it was his doing.

Then he notices the slightly worried look on Björn's as he looks around. It doesn't take long for Ivar to realise what it's all about. He looks around too, but he can't see Liv anywhere either. Then Björn sees Sven. He stomps towards him.

"Where is she?!" he shouts, and Ivar didn't think Björn cared so much about his sister. "Where is she?!" he shouts again, and the other brothers look around too.

"I don't know!" Sven returns, and Björn grabs him by the collar.

And then Ivar sees her. She is lying in the dirt, surrounded by Saxon corpses.

"There!" shouts Ivar, and slight panic can be heard in his voice.

He throws himself from his chariot and crawls towards her. Björn, of course, is faster.

"Liv!" says Björn once more and throws himself on his knees beside her. Still panting and barely catching her breath, Liv looks at her big brother. Relieved that they have finally found her.

"Björn?" she stutters tonelessly.

"Shhh ... Shhh ... It's going to be all right. We'll get you a healer," he says, looking at the arrow still lodged in his sister's stomach.

"Get a healer now!" Björn shouts angrily, and Liv grits her teeth.

Before Björn realises what she is about to do, Liv unceremoniously breaks off the arrow shaft. A small cry of pain passes her lips. Ivar has seen this too. She is so brave and tough, he thinks to himself, yet the sight of Liv in the dirt with an arrow in her stomach shocks him. He can't lose her. Not now.

"Liv," he breathes when he's almost at her. "No!" he mutters to himself.

When he is finally beside her, he sees that her whole body is covered in dirt and blood. He can't tell which is hers, but it doesn't look good.

"Liv..." he says again, and Liv looks him in the eye before letting out a pained moan.

"Ivar," she breathes then and reaches out for him.

Her head rests on Bjorn's legs, but Ivar also sits beside her. He takes her hand in his and caresses it gently. Then he kisses her hand and presses it against him.

"It's okay, Liv. It's going to be okay," he whispers and touches her cheek.

Björn looks back and forth between Ivar and Liv and then at Ubbe, who stands beside him, shrugging his shoulders. They have never seen their brother like this before.

"It's okay," she stammers now. "I'm not scared."

"You're not going to die, do you hear me?" hisses Ivar, continuing to stroke her hand.

Sven has reached her now, too and rummages in his bag. He takes out a small vial and then kneels to her.

"What is this?" asks Björn immediately, and Sven takes off the cork.

"It will help her," he says, looking at Liv, who nods. He dribbles a little of the liquid into her mouth, and she swallows it. Then her eyelids grow heavy, and her body limp.

"What have you done to her?" exclaims Ivar immediately.

"She's just sleeping. This is for the pain. It will help her," he defends himself, and Hvitserk puts a hand on Ivar's shoulder.

The wound won't stop bleeding. New drops of blood keep forming in it. But Ivar patiently cleans Liv's wounds. It's not only the wound on her stomach that the healer has stitched up well, but she also has several cuts and bruises on her arms.

"You could have died today," he grumbles after a while.

"And yet I'm still here," Liv says, a little more cheerful again. "I thank the gods for that. But I can take care of myself, Ivar."

"Doesn't look much like it to me," he says, showing her the blood-soaked piece of cloth he's using to clean her wounds. "What if you're not so lucky next time?" he asks.

"Then I will die honourably in battle," she only says. Ivar doesn't want to hear something like that. He looks her in the eye momentarily, and Liv returns the look. He puts the scrap of cloth away and takes her hands in his.

"This must not happen, do you hear? Liv... I... I love you, and I want you by my side," he says then, and Liv's eyes widen in surprise. No one has ever said those words to her before.

"What? You don't even know me," she says, turning away from him.

She knows that love is a weakness. And she doesn't want weaknesses.

"It's not just you who can observe Liv. Even the first time I saw you, I knew you were special. And everything I've seen is enough for me to tell you that… I love you."

Ivar looks closely at Liv, and the otherwise strong warrior that he is suddenly seems vulnerable.

"I want you to stay by my side. I want you to be mine."

Liv looks at him. Light tears well up in her eyes as she averts her gaze.

"I can't..." she breathes and stands up. "I have commitments, Ivar. I can't stay with you. As soon as Ecbert is dead, I have to go." She takes another step towards him.

"Please, Liv. You felt it too, I'm sure of it. We belong together." Liv wipes a tear from the corner of her eye.

"Please, Ivar... Don't make this harder than it already is," she pleads with him shaky.

"I just don't want you to lie to yourself. Your place is by my side!"

He takes her hand in his and caresses it. Again she looks into his eyes. His beautiful blue eyes. She would like to say yes to him, but Liv can't. She has the Ravenblade, and she can't let it down. Hesitantly, she pulls her hand away from Ivar.

"I can't," she breathes, "I'm so sorry." With those words, she grabs her tunic, pulls it over her head, walks out, and leaves the tent.

When she gets outside, the sun blinds her. Still struggling with tears, Liv is even more confused because this usually never happens to her. She has been trained to be tough and keep her emotions to a minimum, but Ivar brings them all out.

"Liv!" she then hears someone call out. She turns and sees Björn coming towards her. "How are you?" he asks immediately, but as she stands before him, he notices that Liv is struggling with something, so he hugs her.

Liv lets it happen and presses herself against her brother. It is her first time in years to hold her brother in her arms again. And Liv has to admit, it feels good.

"What's wrong with you?" he asks, and Liv sniffles briefly before running her sleeve over her eyes.

"Nothing," she then says quickly.

"Hey, you can talk to me," he says, looking her in the eye.

It's eerie that when Liv looks at Björn, her own eyes look back. Then his gaze wanders to the tent from which Liv has come.

"Is it Ivar? What has he done?" Björn then asks quickly.

"He hasn't done anything," his sister assures him.

"He seems very fond of you, Liv."

"I know, that's the problem. I can't stay with him. I...". Her voice breaks off.

"But you like him?" Liv lowers her eyes and then nods slightly.

"I can't, Bjorn. Love is a weakness that could endanger me and my people."

Björn considers for a moment. "In the end, you must know what you want, Liv. I know the Ravenblade have a pact, but if it makes you unhappy..."

"You don't understand. I'm the fucking leader. I can't just turn my back on them because I fell in love. It doesn't work like that."

Björn notices that his sister is visibly struggling with herself. She is still so young and has committed herself for life. She should be happy, even if that means wanting to be with his psychopathic brother. It shouldn't be like this.

"You know what? Just forget about it! It doesn't change anything anyway," she says. Then she reaches out and puts her hand on his arm. "Thank you, Björn," she now says softly, and to experience such an action from his sister, he would not have thought possible.

[ayaz--ates]

BERAT PLZ:

No but really. Berat, please stop pissing off high ranking Rutherfords. It’s literally going to be the death of you one day, my dude.  Date: November 16th, 2022. Warnings: Bit of violence. It’s Mob, what are you expecting. 

“Well, you’ve achieved rather remarkably for a smackhead…”

It hadn’t taken him long to source information on where best to find the man in question. Ayaz had lost interest in keeping up with his former brethren some time after their fateful stray bullet—meant for his traitor father, of course—had instead paralysed his innocent mother. If the Rutherford had felt anything for those he’d once called friends, it was soon washed away by a sea of anger, and superseded by his want to snap the fucking neck of anyone who dared boast their banner like it was something to be proud of.

The idiot stood in front of him was no different.

As it turned out, he owned a gym of his own. Shitty little place, by the standards he was used to, but still not what he was expecting from a certifiable waste of oxygen. Ayaz looked around the space, patting away some invisible dirt at the shoulder of his Valentino. Something about wandering back into North London’s biggest shit hole always made him feel like he needed to take a bath…

“Relative to the rest of Haringey, that is.”

Berat seemed to be shutting up for the night; a purposeful choice, on Ayaz’s part.

Less chance of being interrupted.

“What the fuck do you want?”

It hadn’t taken Berat long to notice he was no longer alone, and even less for his face to fall at the realisation of just who had joined him.

“What, not in the mood for a friendly chat, Yalaz?”

“Uh, no, weirdly enough. I’d rather lob a fucking brick at your head. Or my own. Either works in this case, I guess.”

The difference between company once kept, and his company now, truly was astounding to him whenever he was reminded of the former.

“Another time, perhaps..?” Then again, perhaps not... “I’m actually here on behalf of Melissa Lin. I heard about your little disagreement. Also heard you still have the attitude of a petulant child.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me…” Berat scoffed, clearly in disbelief.  

“The gif was an impressively immature touch, by the way.”

Berat tossed his towel aside, all amusement leaving his features in an instant as he started toward the corner in which Ayaz was standing.

“So the rumours are true. You really are her lapdog, huh?”

“I am today.”

“Over some text messages? From weeks ago? Literal fucking text messages, Ayaz. I’ve never said shit to her in person.” It seemed he was growing both baffled and annoyed with each word he spoke. “I take it she has an ego as frail as her aging fucking bones, then. Good quality in a leader, that.”

“Bold of somebody who possesses none to comment on good qualities, Berat…”

“What is it you want? Do you get extra brownie points if you take my head back, or are you guys just intent on me becoming a permanent resident at the hospital?”

“I believe her words were,” Ayaz lifted a finger, eyes narrowing as if making conscious effort to recall with absolute accuracy, “within a few inches of his life. Alive, but hurt.”

A pity, really, that his pause to be cocky had given Berat enough time to strike first.

The next thing he knew, the Turk was barrelling toward him, clearly convinced—and rightly so—that Ayaz didn’t intend to go back to her without doing what’d been asked of him. Fighting someone like Berat wasn’t ideal. He was erratic, had little to lose, and would almost certainly make him regret wearing a suit instead of a fucking trash bag. But there was a reason they kept him around. There was a reason he’d managed to scrape together just enough of a normal life to set up a place like this and impart his skills on others.

This wasn’t like fighting the others, and the realisation was swift.

Ayaz tasted the blood before he’d even felt the sting of the first hit.

As they started to trade crushing blows that could only belong to a seasoned hand, he wondered if perhaps he had gone there for a fight, after all. It’d been his intention to make things quick. A metal bar to the head, if he was lucky, because it wasn’t as though anyone would notice a few missing brain cells when it came to a clinical moron... But there was something about being near them that fucking incensed him. Pushed rationale out the window faster than their reflexes as they attempted to doge every blow intended to be the last.

This could’ve been a showstopper at Fight Club. There was always next year.

Ayaz didn’t want to stop.

And neither did Berat.

But eventually, something had to give.

The men were both panting—exhausted from the unexpected physicality of the exchange—and there was blood spattered everywhere that could’ve belonged to either. Split lips. Bleeding noses. Ayaz had managed a decent enough jab to the side of Berat’s head that’d split clean above his eyebrow. But when Berat grabbed at him once more, Ayaz heard the fateful sound of a ripped seam.

The fucking Valentino.

And that was that.

E-fucking-nough.

“Berat,” Ayaz bellowed a second later, voice so loud he wouldn’t have been surprised if it’d attracted some outside attention. As it echoed around the gym, it was even enough to make the Turk stop in his tracks; eyebrows pulling into a concerned frown, and fists briefly hesitating. “I am bored.”

Yalaz was confused. Perhaps worried by the gravity of his tone.

That slight pause was just enough for Ayaz to retrieve the gun hidden in its holster. And he didn’t wait for the recognition in his former friend’s eyes, nor did he wave it around in an attempt to scare him. It was split second. No time for him to think, no time for him to anticipate. Two silenced shots—one to the leg, one to the shoulder—barely audible over the sound of his laboured breathing.

Of course, he’d crumpled to the floor as soon as it hit his knee. Yelled out in pain that that quite clearly didn’t faze Ayaz in the fucking slightest.

The man glanced at his shoulder, noticing the tear at the top of the sleeve.

“Unbelievable.”

The fact that Berat had the audacity to try and get back to his feet—clearly fucking zapped on adrenaline, even if he fell down again a moment later—was enough to draw his attention away from the devastating blow to his wardrobe. Ayaz could feel the blood pissing from his nose as he looked at the piece of shit on the floor. Briefly touched the back of his hand to his top lip in an attempt to gauge just how bad it was.

Berat would take a boot to the face for that.

Thankfully, said Rutherford aggression was enough to knock him out this time around.

Maybe he’d fucking bleed to death before he found his way back to consciousness…

Because alive but hurt was more than he deserved.

Spotting the Turk’s cell phone discarded on the floor a few metres away—clearly a victim to the tumble of an exchange—Ayaz slowly made his way to retrieve it. He crouched down for just long enough to use his ugly mug to open the thing. Scroll through his contacts.  

No Ayda..?

Fuck, he had a headache. Maybe he was going blind.

Eventually, after a couple more attempts at finding someone of worth in the list, he spotted a single heart emoji. No name. No other information.

Christ alive. Surely not.

Ayaz called the number for just long enough to confirm that it did, indeed, belong to the absolute neurotic he’d been unfortunate enough to cross paths with not a week before. Like he could forget that fucking voice after their verbal sparring match…

As soon as she answered, he hung up without a word.

Then, he turned the camera on Berat.

“Smile, you ugly bastard,” he breathed.

No response.

It’d sure make a nice picture message to send that little heart emoji, though.

[vamossainz55]

Moonlight Chapter 2 || Carlos Sainz x Reader

A/N: Hey guys!! I hope everybody's doing well. I told myself that I would have the next chapter up for next week but my brain is literally going a mile a minute so I decided to finish up the second chapter already (it is almost 1am lmao). Idek if anybody is reading this but I might have some mistakes here and there but please feel free to let me know!! All constructive criticism is appreciated. This chapter is also a bit rushed but I feel like I want to do some building + context before throwing it all in but I am hoping to get more Carlos into the next chapter <3. Thank you so much and I literally love you if you are still reading until here.

ANYWAYS im done xoxoxo.

link to chapter 1 / all chapters / my masterlist

Chapter 2 (4k words)

You don’t sleep at all that night, your mind is spinning and a part of you knows that all the drinks you had were finally catching up to you. Your eyes scan the ceiling, deciding to focus on the small dent you had accidentally left there in hopes to get your mind to still. You couldn’t believe what you had read. McLaren? Out of all teams? A part of you even wants to laugh, because of course this would happen to you. 

You pick up your phone again, read over the email again, and again, and again. How were the words not changing? How were you supposed to join a team knowing Carlos was going to be there? What were you going to do?

A weird mix of emotions settle in your chest. Happiness, excitement, nervousness, pride, and even anger- and maybe a little sadness. You had dreamt about this opportunity for as long as you could remember. Why were you so worried about so many things?

There was one main question drumming in your head, what would happen if you took it? 

You ponder at that thought for what feels like hours, but soon enough your eyes begin to grow heavy. As worried as you were, your body was beginning to shut down, begging to finally get some rest. 

Right before you drift off to sleep you think to yourself still, 

What am I going to do?

_____________

The next day you wake up with the sleep still sticking to your eyes. You had managed to get some sleep, but you didn’t feel like you had gotten enough rest. Your eyes were heavy and your body was sore from the night before. You try your best to settle yourself back to sleep but the moment you close your eyes your mind decides otherwise. 

Thoughts of an orange team flood your brain along with a certain driver, but before you can start thinking too much a knock on the door rips your attention away. 

“Y/n? I’m coming in,” Your roommate announces. You let out a loud groan, telling her to go away, but before you can even finish your sentence you hear your door open and feel a strong weight on your bed. Soon enough you’re being crushed, your roommate’s body sprawled over yours. 

“Oh come on- fuck off, get off of me,” you whine as you hear Jane laugh and shift a bit to lay beside you instead. Being awake for so long helps you notice the soft pressure in the center of your head that slowly begins to spread. Yeah, you were definitely hungover. 

“You smell gross,”Jane says, soon getting inside the covers with you. She feels warm and you can’t help but scoot closer. “You never wanna go out and party with me but you do with Laura,” She says playfully. “But you had fun? Laura told me a guy came home with you.”

And fuck- right. You had forgotten about Bastien. “A guy? Yeah yeah, he dropped me off last night. He asked me out on a date.” You tell her, and you can feel a slight swoop in your stomach still. “I’m actually excited?” You’re a bit nervous at the thought of it. It was rare for you to get excited about these things- let alone to say it outloud. 

Jane grins. “You’re excited for a date? Am I hearing you right?” She asks and you can already feel your cheeks heating up so you try your best to look away and come off as casual. 

“He’s really cute and nice. But he told me he’s just here visiting a friend and looking for jobs so it might not even go anywhere.” You say with a shrug. You wondered if it was weird or not but you felt that it was a bit reassuring to not know where it was going to go, like there weren’t many expectations going into it. If he wasn’t going to be around anyways it would be fine if it didn’t work out. 

Jane’s asking when the date is and she is quite surprised by your answer, “The date’s tonight,” You say before explaining, “but we didn’t agree on the time. Should I text him and ask?” 

The look Jane gives you almost makes you laugh. “No, are you crazy?” She exclaims and you wince at how loud she is being, suddenly remembering about the headache that is spreading through your head.

“Wait for him to text you, and if he doesn’t then his loss you know?,” She says, getting off the bed. You think for a second, and yeah, maybe she is right. You could wait and see if he would show up or not. 

“Where are you going?” You ask, peering over the sheets to look at her. As much as you needed it you did not want time by yourself to think about things. 

“Oh I’m coming back, I’m just getting you some painkillers and water,” she says matter of factly and you return her kindness with a smile. 

“Love you!” You say as you watch her head out of the door. 

_____________

Bastien does end up texting back, and you both go out to dinner that night. It’s nice, the conversation is casual and you both realize it wasn’t just the alcohol talking the night before. You’re a bit too smitten for your liking but you try your best to ignore it. 

He offers to drive you home but by the way he holds the lower of your back you both know it isn’t just for a drive. It’s thrilling really, to sneak someone upstairs again- begging them to be quiet to not wake up your roommate (because of course you wouldn’t hear the end of it). But you both get away with it, and waking up next to someone the next day makes it even more worth it. 

It wasn’t really supposed to become a thing but it does. Bastien had told you over your date that he was only around for the next two weeks. Mainly a mix of hanging out and catching up with friends along with job interviews and looking over other opportunities. You prep yourself for disappointment, tell yourself that it is a one and done, but that’s far from what ends up happening. 

You see him almost every day, he would either drop by with lunch, dinner, or even a coffee to just squeeze some extra time with you. You would let him sneak into yours at night and he would often pick you up to give Laura a break and stay at his. It’s like you were floating on cloud 9. He meets your friends and you meet some of his. Everything is new, fresh, and exciting. 

So much happens that you don’t even realize you’re in your own little bubble. 

But every bubble is bound to burst. 

It happens to you a whole week after you take Bastien to the airport (with the promise of keeping in touch and seeing eachother soon). Your mind is still preoccupied with him- you both were still texting practically every day- and if you knew any better you were practically dating. But were you really? 

Sure you were practically attached to the hip the whole time you were here, and sure he was texting you good morning, good night, and everything else between the day. But were you really dating? 

There were so many questions still that you had completely forgotten about your upcoming semester. The internship. Your mind suddenly springs. You were sitting at the table with Laura and a few other people in your major when Theo mentions how he had just accepted the offer he had gotten over a week ago. You had completely forgotten about your own offer and it had been over 3 weeks since you had gotten your email. 

“Shit- shit, no way.” You murmur to yourself as you open your phone. Most of the table is distracted in their own conversation but you can feel Laura and one or two other pairs of eyes scanning over you in interest as you scroll through your phone. How could you be so stupid and forget about it? You read through your emails quickly, scrolling through and looking for the email that had sent you the offer. 

You finally see the latest email that you had gotten from them. Your heart sinks as your phone loads, already dreading what the email would say. 

It finally loads and you take a deep breath before reading. 

F1 Talent Program Offer: 3 days to Deadline. | Received: 2d ago 

One day left to decide. You let out a nervous laugh as you run your hand through your hair, letting out a shaky breath. Could you even make a choice within a day? 

“What are you looking at?” Laura huffs, leaning next to you to read over your shoulder. She practically lets out a gasp before looking at you, eyes wide. “Y/n! Oh my god. You did it!” She says and before you know it you feel two arms wrapped around you and squeezing you tight and knocking the air out of you. 

“What’s going on, what happened?” You hear one of your classmates ask. Laura chimes in before you can, and you can hear the pride in her voice as she announces it. 

“She got accepted for the engineering talent program for F1!” She says proudly and you force a smile onto your lips as you can hear everyone gasp. Soon the table is congratulating you and you thank everyone quite sheepishly. As much as you wanted to get mad at Laura you could tell how happy she was for you.

You try your best to smile it off, not wanting to seem ungrateful for the opportunity  but you can tell Laura knows something is off. You feel a grip on your shoulder before you realise Laura is pulling you step aside for a bit. You stumble a bit to follow her and go to ask if everything is okay but Laura beats you to it.  

“So? What’s wrong? You should be exhilarated about this- bragging left and right.” Laura says, already crossing her arms across her chest. Four years of friendship and you are still amazed with how well she can read you. 

“I am happy, I am.” You try your best to say convincingly but the look Laura gives you says enough. “No- seriously I am. I can’t believe I got it. You know how hard I worked for this?” You say, and its true. All the hard work you had put in the past years was for this moment. The sleepless nights before an exam, the being away from family to be able to study at the best school, missing out on parties to be able to get enough sleep for class, even the endless nights crying when everything became too much. It was all for this moment. 

“But?” Laura asks, and she can tell that you are thinking too much. You tend to do that thing where your nose twitches slightly, whenever your brain begins to eat itself from the inside out and let the worries settle in. 

“I got accepted into McLaren.” You tell her quietly because it's embarrassing to say it outloud. Embarrassing to admit to yourself how much Carlos still had a hold of you. 

Her brows furrow slightly and she gives you a shrug. “So?” 

You frown at her. Although she was not into racing you were pretty sure you had kept her updated with where Carlos would be going within the upcoming season. “I told you. Carlos is going to join McLaren. What if I have to see him? Talk to him? Work with him?” You say, this time even more quietly but just because you can feel your other friends trying to snoop and look over to you both. 

“Again, so?” Laura asks, and this time she shakes her head and takes your hands into hers. “Y/n, look at me.” She says, squeezing your hands gently. “You’ve been dreaming about this since before I met you.” Her voice is soft yet firm, and somehow you feel your chest begin to swell. “Do not let someone from the past scare you away from your future. You have to take this opportunity y/n.”

You stare at her for a bit, letting out a shaky breath. Your heart is beating in your ears because she is right. You have been dreaming about this for ages. You pull her into a tight hug, tucking your face into her shoulder. 

“Thank you.” You say, already feeling part of the weight on your shoulders slowly lifting. You slowly pull away, smiling at her from ear to ear. “Come over to mine? I need to send in my acceptance.” 

_____________

Accepting the offer was less dreadful than you thought, taking into account that you weren’t starting the internship after your graduation. But time flew by faster than you thought it would. 

The months between accepting the offer and starting at McLaren were eventful. Looking back, you had too many exams, too much stress, and simply too much to do. You were grateful though that you got to enjoy some of the last months with your friends before you all headed to do different things. Not only were you able to finish all your academic requirements but you had finally decided to pay more attention to your personal life too. 

You finally caught up and partied with the girls, had more days out with them, and just enjoyed your time without worrying too much about your next lecture, class, or exam. It was relaxing to finally be able to let go a bit and have fun. Not only that- but Bastien came to visit often too. Before you even realized everybody already knew that the both of you were dating, but by the time you found out you didn’t really mind either. You both worried about the distance considering your internship and how he was still traveling around looking for a job whilst freelancing- but you both figured with a little faith you could make it work.

Even graduation passed by like a breeze. Your parents and your sister flew in and soon enough you were already packing your things into boxes and luggages. Half of your things were being shipped back home as you could not take them around with you so you were definitely forced to pack light. 

And that’s how you ended up there. Staring at the McLaren headquarters, nervously fixing one of the bracelets on your wrist as you waited outside. You had been one of the first few to arrive, but to be fair you had arrived a bit earlier than the agreed time. You couldn’t help but look around, the office was bigger than you thought, along with the large lake adorning the side of the building, it looked amazing and you were trying your best to keep yourself composed without taking photos of everything. You had seen the McLaren headquarters a lot through photos and videos- but this was the first time you were anywhere near it- let alone about to step in. As you looked around more people seemed to trickle in. The others seemed to also be amazed by the site, scanning over the whole area. Even the surroundings were nice and peaceful, vast greenery covering the whole area and more. Soon you heard the automatic doors open alongside a pair of footsteps. 

“Hi, welcome! I’m Andrea. Sorry for the wait.” A woman said, waving at you all. She was wearing a McLaren polo shirt along with black slacks. “Come in, I’ll take you to one of our presentation rooms and we can kick off with some introductions. We’ll have our basic induction and onboarding before handing you off to your own departments and managers.” She announced, eyes meeting yours quickly as she also smiled and looked at everyone else. You can’t help but have a voice in the back of your head telling you to keep an eye out for a certain spanish man. You were absolutely dreading bumping into him. 

The ceilings seem even taller from the inside, and the glass walls allow natural light to fill the building. You look around as you follow Andrea, appreciating the clean and modern design the building had adopted. “Here, come in.” Andrea says, soon opening the door to a medium sized auditorium with a powerpoint slide already splayed on the screen. 

The onboarding goes by smoothly and you all introduce yourselves one by one. You’re a bit nervous since you introduce yourself first, but you get through it quickly before others follow up with their own introduction. After going through almost half of the room you soon learn there are three other interns from other departments also joining and you relax a bit knowing you were all in a similar situation. A bit after the introductions you all go through some general knowledge about McLaren, learning about the values and the mission of the company. After a few more fun facts you’re all sent off with your own managers who are waiting outside at the door. 

“Y/n?” A man asked, stepping closer to you. You turn and smile once you see a tall man with short black hair. 

“Hi yes, that’s me. It’s nice to meet you.” You say with a smile, putting your hand out for a handshake. He takes this moment to introduce himself. 

“Hi, perfect! My name is Tom. Welcome to the team.” He says before pulling his hand away. He nods slightly towards the direction you both are supposed to go to before explaining the day’s run down. “We’ll take these first few weeks for you to look over the systems we use, learn more about them, and get familiar with them. We can analyze past data and see how you interpret it compared to our previous interpretations.” You nodded along as you followed him, already getting excited as he also told you more about the team. 

“We will also have an event later tonight with everyone, just a few welcoming drinks. You don’t have to show up but it would be nice and good for you to socialize with everyone too.” Tom smiles as he opens the door to one of the rooms. Something from the corner of your eyes captures your attention but once you look over it's gone. You look back ahead of you and take a deep breath before stepping in. 

_____________

You’re barely there for a full working day and your brain is fried. Numbers were printed into the inner corners of your brain and you had learned so much that you weren’t sure if you had enough space to store it all. Despite your exhaustion and the overload of information you were buzzing. You could already feel your fingers twitching, ready to get your hands on something and to help out. They had explained to you that the first few weeks were a bit hands-off, focusing on getting you settled in and learning mostly the theory behind it all but you felt like you couldn’t wait. So much was happening around you and you wanted to do something more. 

“I think we have our welcoming drinks in a bit. How about we head out there and you can meet some people from the other departments?” Tom offers and you thank him, already following him with a few other newcomers that had joined the team too. You had made friends with a woman who had recently joined too, Cara, as you both were one of the few women within the engineering team, so you stuck to her side as you all trickled into the room. 

“I think I’m going to nib a few snacks.” You say, already nodding at Cara, so you both decide to walk together to the table with several snacks. You grab a small plate and a few of the snacks, waiting for Cara to grab something for herself too. Once you’re back to Tom and the others you set your plate on the table, “I grabbed a bit extra, just in case anybody wanted a bite too.” You smile. Tom seems to look over the plate, already ready to fish a sandwich off your plate when you see two figures coming over, and one seems a bit too familiar. You tense a little and instantly grow quiet, already looking away before even making sure if you had seen the right thing or not. 

“Tom! Hey, how are you?” Zak says, grinning as he pats Tom on the back. You’re torn between looking over or keeping your eyes away, but as soon you hear the other person’s voice you screw your eyes shut, already feeling your heartbeat race. 

“Hello Tom, Zak told me we had new people starting. Decided to drop by since we’re gonna be working together a lot no?” And you don’t even need to look over to know who’s voice it is. You can’t tell if there’s a knot in your throat or the food is coming back up because you start to feel a bit sick. Your legs twitch to get up, but your brain is screaming not to run. Not in front of your new manager, and even worse the CEO of your company. 

You quietly look over, already feeling your palms get clammy. Zak and Carlos look so focused on Tom that you realize they had barely looked over to the rest of the group, but Tom decides to change this. “Yeah- yeah. Everyone here’s new. Wanted to get them to mingle a bit.” He says, soon turning to you all. Zak and Carlos look towards you all, smiling. A part of you wonders if he doesn’t recognize you but you notice the moment that he does. 

He freezes a bit and blinks, eyes locked on yours and you quickly look away, breaking eye contact. Tom and Zak don’t even notice, not until Cara approaches Carlos, who barely reacts as he shakes her hand. As Carlos is, he quickly recovers and composes himself, apologizing before introducing himself. 

“So this is Cara, she is our new Junior Aero Engineer, she worked quite a bit in the W League and in the F2 series,” Tom says. Carlos manages to make some eye contact but you can feel his eyes shift from her to you but you try not to look back at him. After three more introductions Tom shifts the attention to you. 

You force yourself to look this time and you bite the inside of your cheek to remain calm. You can see Carlos is about to say something, but he struggles to find the words. His eyes are a bit all over the place, and his nose is twitching the way it does whenever he’s nervous. The tension is suddenly visible in the group and all eyes are on you both. 

“Do you know each other?” Zak asks, deciding to be the one to break the silence. 

“Actually,” Carlos starts. 

“No- no we don’t.” You casually laugh, and what? You were meant to stay quiet. But what were you supposed to do? Let Carlos tell not only Tom, but also Zak, and the rest of the team that you used to what, date? A part of you realizes, maybe he was going to say friends. But it was too late now. “My name is y/n. Nice to meet you” You say, and you can tell Carlos’ demeanor instantly changes. His back straightens and he quickly plasters on the tight lipped smile you used to hate. “I’m,” You stutter a bit when he holds your hand to shake it,  “I’m the new Engineer Intern.” and you can tell he’s upset. His eyes are cold as he locks eyes with you again. This time you can’t look away. 

“Carlos.” He says shortly. It pierces through you like a knife. “Nice to meet you.” 

“Nice to meet you too,” You murmur. 

You feel a pool of instant regret settling in your stomach as he turns his back towards you and goes to greet the other new starters. 

What had you gotten yourself into?

____________________________

Link to chapter 3

Taglist: @luvrboygaslys-interacts @mossafiato

(if you drop a comment i'll tag or just let me know and i'll add you!! ily xoxo)

[sweetdreamsbuck]

its raining here so i made this one lol

sweet treats and cuddles are the best when it's cold and rainy out <3

making up for lost time

bucky x reader

word count: 2.1k

completely self indulgent fluff. thank you baby @treat-people-w-kisses for this gorgeous moodboard that made me think so warmly. you are sugar and love <3

join in on my holiday season & 1k+ sleepover!

a/n: sorry i haven’t been sharing the fic requests more. the ships are taking up a lot of my time and truthfully i’m doubting my writing right now. i appreciate your patience and love, your prompts and requests are genius. i’m enjoying writing them, just being ruined by my dumb thoughts. <3 

"Pleaseee? Come on, babydoll— open up. This one's specially made for you," Bucky whined for what seemed like the tenth time that morning, nudging his nose into the palm of your hand as you giggled and tried to trace away the lines of his pouted face. That damn puppy dog face.

The pout he always donned was proof he knew the power he held over you. He only wore it when trying to convince you of something but at this point, you knew he no longer purposely did it. Bucky was a man of few words, always more of a doer than sayer and that precious pout said it all. You always felt the familiar tingle of warmth spread through you upon being blessed by sight of it dancing along the creases of his sweet face— it meant he trusted you with his heart, with his feelings. It was no longer something he did to tease or persuade but rather something he did to show when he wanted you to feel what he was feeling, too.

But you still teased him for it all the same— you adored him and would put up with the distractingly adorable pouts and fits of exaggerated whining if it meant getting to spend even one second with him and his precious heart.

So he'd pout and stick his lip out. God those damn eyes— glazed over with nothing but love and need for your attention. And those pillowy pink lips— plump and always shining with a teasing gleam of what could only be described as Bucky.

A rare day for the both of you, but after almost two months of conflicting schedules and Bucky being off on missions, you had a few days off together. Of course, to Bucky, this meant doing everything and anything possible to try and make up for all the moments he couldn't be there holding you in his arms; the nights he couldn't cook you a romantic dinner chased down by three bottles of merlot, followed by soft whispers of sin and desire; the days he couldn't walk to the food store with you snug under his arm, coming to 'help you lift the heavy things' but really just causing the time it would take to get what you needed to double, his need to kiss and caress your 'pretty cheeks' and trace the freckles and veins of your hands too great— but you hardly complained about that. You felt loved. You felt cherished. You feel these things overwhelmingly so; even when he's not there; even now when the rainstorm happening outside your little apartment ruined Bucky's very meticulous and planned out day.

                                 **************************************

He'd been pouting a lot this morning, the weather causing a surge of anger and disappointment to bloom across his soft features. "Can't believe our day is ruined..." he'd huffed out, frustration erupting across his face and causing a fit of laughter to fall from your lips.

"Nothing is ever ruined with you, baby. As long as we get to spend the day together, I'm happy," you'd told him this morning in bed, as the rain pounded hard against the glass of your shared window. He sulked even further into the sheets of the bed, closing his eyes, sighing dramatically at your attempts to calm him. The rain, however, took pleasure in Bucky's disdain and managed to fall even louder and more forceful, as if it was in joyful response to his brooding. You leaned over and pressed light kisses to the worry lines growing etched into his hardened face, trying your best to fight the urge to laugh at him. If you were going to have a day off, it wasn't going to be ruined by his dramatics towards the weather.

                                **************************************

The kitchen was upside down, evidence of Bucky's messy brain and sweet nature apparent all over the flour clad counters and cabinets. A tray of muffins had already been made and halfway eaten, a gorgeous apple pie had been cooling on the window, crispy danishes were sitting on a pretty snowman display dish. If the morning had gone his way, he had planned to take you to a new brunch spot that was outdoor seating only. He picked it because it overlooked the beautiful tree of Rockefeller Center, the one you'd been begging him to take you to see, so you could only rationalize that the chaos of the kitchen matched that of the storm of feelings festering inside of him. You could always clean the mess later— Bucky's happiness was a 'now' issue.

Bucky was so sweet, trying his hardest to do everything and get everything perfect, just for you. "My babydoll deserves perfection" he'd always say, and today was no exception. You loved how he'd always go above and beyond for you, the first and only man who ever showed such care for you— but your favorite moments with Bucky weren't ever the rushed or the hectic or the trying to make up for lost time type. Lost time wasn't something you ever feared, not even when miles apart. Bucky's love for you was always tangible and known. Sure, you had missed him like crazy when you were apart and would give the world to just hug him close to you. But nothing was ever lost between the love you had for each other, no matter the distance or time.

"Buck, you're gonna make me sick!" you giggle as he pretends to try and shove the cinnamon bun he just made through your lips, only successfully managing to make a mess all over the counter and in the divots of your now cinnamon clad sweater.

"Babyyy don't make this day any harder on me than it already is. Please, one taste? For me?" his voice singing while his eyes grew wide to rest in their very familiar glower. Today, however, nearly knocking the wind out of you. Something else was housed behind them.

"Buck, what's going on? You know I'm just teasing you. Why are you so bent on this weather, baby?" you ask genuinely, brushing a few crumbs from your top and reaching for the treat being lowered by Bucky's now defeatedly deflating arms. Popping a bite into your mouth, he smiles softly at you and reaches up to swipe some leftover icing from the side of your mouth. Holding his finger up to you, offering the rest of the sweet treat, he laughs dryly.

"First day off together in months and I can't even get that right..." Confusion taking over your features but missed by Bucky, he can't seem to meet your gaze even if he wanted to. The truth causing a boulder to sit harder on his chest, embarrassed by the events of the day. Taking his finger to your lips, you softly lick the remaining sugar and drop a gentle kiss.

"I don't know what you're referring to, but this is the best morning I can remember having in years," you confess. His eyes shoot up to meet yours, the pout still painfully evident as ever— he really was upset by the weather.

"What? We haven't seen each other in months and you—"

"Exactly baby. We haven't seen each other in months. I just want to spend time with you. That's all I need. No fancy brunch or walk along the Highline," you grab the remaining bun from his hand and place it on the counter. Quickly moving to shake the sugar and cinnamon off of your fingers, you wrap your arms around his sulking frame finding solace snug around his neck, playing with the curls there. "Those things are all nice, but if I could just hold you for every second of the rest of my life, I'd do it in a heartbeat. Nothing else makes me happier," you say as you watch his features finally soften. The playful light and boyish charm sneaking its way back into the pools of his eyes.

"Nothing else? I could think of a few things..." he smirks while playfully biting at your wrist before peppering kisses up your arm, a sign that your dramatic-ass baby was coming back to his playful self. You throw your head back in a hard laugh and he swears his heart stops— every moment your beautiful song fills the room and leaves him floating through it reminds him just how much he loves you; just how much he needs you.

And he needs mornings like this, moments like these that remind him there's no catching up or making up for lost time needed. Time always slows with you, and that is gift enough.

"I love you, you big, beautiful, dramatic, sexy ass baby..." you mumble against his soft lips, pressing kisses against him as you hope to emphasize each word. He laughs against your mouth and grabs both of your cheeks, keeping your mouth against his in a bruising hold, tired of your short and teasing pecks.

Bucky's kisses are like a dream. He brushes against you just right, his plump lips encasing yours firmly but with such gentle desire. He parts his lips only to envelop them around you further, drinking you in again and again, moving swiftly but with tender intent as his mouth sings of his love for you. A doer rather than a sayer, his tongue traces along your lip before teasing more aggressively along the insides of your mouth, moaning softly behind each kiss and breath shared. Moving your hands to his chest, you lightly try and push off to speak more of your thoughts but he growls and wraps his metal arm firmly around your waist, spinning you both so that you're caged between his towering frame and the flour clad countertop.

"Dontyoudarepushawayfromme" he attempts to mumble against your lips, stubbornly refusing to part from you so it comes out as more of a pained groan. You giggle against him as he continues to pull what he needs from your mouth, not that you'd ever try and stop him. His kiss is inebriating; it stops time, drowning and pulling you deeper, granting reprieve from the pace of the outside world.

Parting slowly, he sucks your bottom lip into his mouth, kissing lightly until he decides to open his eyes at you. He's met with the blissed-out expression of your now darkened gaze, already trained on him with big, beautiful pupils that whisper loudly of your need for him. He whines softly at the sight and bites down on your lip, causing a fit of giggles in you and the urge to squeeze him tighter to you once again.

Sliding your arms from his chest to the back of his head, you pull him closer as you moan against his lips, needing him to feel the honesty of your statements. Gently sucking and biting, pushing and pulling, the two of you so captivated by the other and this heaven together that you can't fight the smiles that break out as you continue to move against the other. He trails his lips across the side of your face, pressing kisses to the skin of his favorite cheekbones that he hasn't touched in months. Lightly biting at them as he hums along to the distant sound of your 'soft morning' Spotify playlist. With each bite comes a soft brush of his lips that causes the room the spin and your heart to pound faster. The gentle nature of your gigantic boyfriend always leaves you breathless.

He feels your cheeks push up into one of his favorite smiles and he slows his movements, taking a minute to just hold and stare at his favorite face. Nothing could compare to moments like this. The outside world meant nothing if he could just hold you and bite you until you squealed with laughter and such radiance.

Finally pulling away from you, he watched you as he let you place a few light pecks along his scruff, both of you unaware of anything but the other. You drop a few cute kisses to the tip of his nose, trailing to leave a flirty bite on the dimple of his scruffy chin. It causes a boyish giggle to leave his now swollen and spit adorned lips. You smile and watch as a faint blush breaks out along his features at your movements, completely unconcerned with the tray of croissants currently burning in the oven, the burn in this need for him more important. Bucky was always more important.

"Why don't we take all these goodies to the couch and cuddle today? Lemme hold you..." you whisper, trailing your fingers up along the side of his neck and face. He shivers at the ticklish action and relaxes once your hands find his hair. "Sorry baby," you chuckle. Your eyes trail over his precious face while you card your fingers through his short curls, taking in the beautiful man you get to call yours.

"I love you so fucking much," he confesses, the light dancing in his eyes like there was never reason he ever didn't mean it. "I'd do anything for you. Just want you to always know it."

"I know baby, I always know." He'd never been more thankful for the weather.

[frogtanii]

warm.

it’s too warm, was your first waking thought as you sluggishly waded through the mound of blankets that encompassed you to get a breath of fresh air (you assumed bokuto and kuroo were the culprits for your warm and fuzzy hellhole). your eyes first fell on the television playing the credits to the second or third pirates of the caribbean movie on mute, the remote haphazardly thrown somewhere to your left as though the person who did so left in a hurry.

speaking of people, there was no one left in the room as you slowly joined the land of the living. a part of you suspected everyone had gone to bed but atsumu or akaashi would’ve woken you up if that had been the case.

belatedly, you recognized voices coming from the front door and your still sleep-addled brain lit up. oh! you thought. food must be here! untangling yourself from the blankets proved to be an exhausting feat because by the time you were done, your body was covered in a sheen of sweat underneath oikawa’s sweats and sakusa’s hoodie.

ugh, gross.

you began to make your way towards the door, the blood rushing through your head preventing you from hearing the details of conversation but knowing atsumu, he was just haggling for a lower price even though you told him repeatedly, that isn’t how pizza places work tsum.

as you drew nearer to the commotion, you started to pick up on the heavy tension in the air, leaving you extremely uncomfortable. you had no idea what the cause of it was but you did know it was making most of the boys upset, who, by the way, hadn’t noticed you creeping around just yet.

a feminine voice rang out from outside the doorway and though you were still attempting to gain your hearing, the sound sent chills down your spine. it sounded saccharine, sweet, familiar, and oh so evil.

even with a head full of cotton, you figured now wouldn’t be the best time to reveal yourself, what with the clear discomfort permeating the atmosphere, but your big fat mouth apparently had other plans.

“‘tsum, just let the poor pizza lady go,” you muttered, the beginnings of a headache making itself known at the back of your skull. you were a little too caught up with the dwarf banging at your head with a sledgehammer to notice the shock that everyone in the room turned to look at you with.

a gentle hand grasped at your forearm, whispering something into your ear before attempting to pull you back to the living room, but that same familiar voice from the door kept you planted where you stood.

“oh, the princess finally makes herself known,” meiko sneered, her face finally coming into focus, striking you with pang of fear straight through your heart. “funny, i thought i left you speechless the last time we... ‘talked’.”

“ya shut yer fuckin mouth,” atsumu lunged at her but was stopped by sakusa’s arm around his waist, successfully holding him in place. meiko just giggled, taking a step into the house, her heels clicking as she glided across the hardwood floors.

in the back of your head, you noted that meiko looked unusually beautiful, her makeup flawlessly done and her outfit complementing it perfectly, almost reminiscent of how she used to be before... well, just “before”.

you watched the boys unconsciously angle themselves as a protective wall around you, the person holding your arm (who you now realized was koushi) pulling you in tighter until your back was resting against his chest.

a part of you couldn’t help but feel a little suffocated but the other, more self preserving, bit felt irrationally safe and protected around these boys. it was nice... or it would’ve been if meiko wasn’t taking herself on a tour around the house as though she hadn’t been living there for almost the past year.

“you all can tone down on the guard dog act. i’m not here to fight,” she said as she pretended to wipe dust off the island. “you’re not?” bokuto’s skeptical voice rose up from behind you, one of his hands finding yours underneath the massive sleeves of your (sakusa’s) hoodie.

meiko shook her head with an empty smile, her perfectly painted red lips stretching unnaturally wide. “no, of course not! i’ve just come here to collect.”

the boys collectively tensed around you, akaashi whispering for kenma to go find yachi and quickly. as he slipped away, you made eye contact with sakusa who gave you an imperceptible nod that you assumed meant one thing — keep her talking.

“collect what?” you asked, your voice coming out weaker than you wanted, but you hoped she didn’t notice. she cocked her head as her eyes snapped to you as if she’d forgotten you were there, but judging by her growing smirk, you knew that wasn’t the case.

“my boys of course!” meiko clapped gleefully, clicking her way over toward kuroo to run her hand over his bicep, laughing when he jolted away from her touch. “they’ve always been mine, you know that don’t you?”

it felt like a cold bucket of water had been dropped over your head. you felt frozen again, the same feeling of dread creeping up your spine as it did when meiko attacked you. in turn, you barely noticed kenma’s return who whispered something to sakusa — an action that didn’t go unnoticed by meiko.

“what’re my boys talking about? are you plotting against me?” she pouted, scooting closer to the pair. kenma visibly paled and moved to hide himself behind sakusa’s broad shoulders. “we aren’t doing anything, meiko.”

wrong answer.

“oh, we both know that isn’t the case kiyoomi. i’m not a fucking idiot.” meiko’s voice filled with venom before moving even closer still. you felt your heart beating rapidly in your chest, your hand gripping bokuto’s even tighter.

what if she brought some kind of weapon to the house? what if she hurt you? what if she hurt them?

before you could think, you were standing in front of the group, the boys calling out your name as meiko’s face lit up. “so the precious little princess wants to take a stand! let me have it then, huh? let me see what all the craze is about!”

despite the fear thudding in your chest, you stood tall, glaring at her with your head held high. “the boys are not yours, meiko,” you declared, her mouth instantly opening in protest but you refused to let her speak.

“they aren’t possessions or objects you can own and treat like shit. they are people, real living, breathing people and they aren’t mine either. they have full reign to do what they want, when they want, to make their own choices and decisions. and you know what? they didn’t choose you or me. they chose themselves and their happiness over any bullshit you or i could try and sell them. so please, for the love of god, get your shit together, put it in a box and take it to fucking therapy.”

by the end of your impromptu speech, your chest was heaving but you felt good. really good. adrenaline was rushing through your veins and you felt powerful. out the corner of your eye, you noticed osamu and daichi standing at the bottom of the stairs with something akin to awe on their faces.

yeah bitches. take it all in.

unfortunately, while you were basking in the feeling of badassery, you completely missed meiko’s eyes lighting up with pure, unadulterated,

rage.

you faintly heard someone call your name before you were taken to the ground by meiko leaping at you like an animal. the two of you scrambled about on the hardwood, her hands yanking at your clothes and leaving scratches on your skin but you were sure as hell giving her a run for her money.

you finally managed to get on top of her, pinning her arms to the ground but that wasn’t before you gained a hard elbow to the side and a bruise to your face. meiko thrashed and shook in your hold but you were not wavering, trying to keep her entirely still for...

well, for what exactly?

almost as though they were on cue, you heard the sound of police sirens wailing in the distance, growing louder as they drew closer to the house. underneath you, meiko’s eyes widened before she began fighting even harder than she’d done before, her erratic movements making it much more difficult to keep your hold on her.

luckily, you had extremely muscular men at your disposal, one of which (osamu — even though he was a dick, he was still incredibly muscular dick) held down meiko’s arms as the lapd stormed the building.

the police officers easily retracted meiko from your arms and cuffed her, taking her to the back of the cop car, despite her loud and insistent threats on you and everyone you love.

very disney villain-esque.

a kind looking officer helped you to your feet and walked you out to the porch where he began to ask you and the boys a few questions. you answered them honestly and you were genuinely proud of how well you were handling the whole situation when—

“bubs, you’re shaking.” sure enough, when you looked down at your hands, you were twitching uncontrollably, the reality of the events that just occurred finally sinking in.

you were just attacked. again.

you and your friends were threatened.

meiko was sitting in the back of a fucking cop car.

“what the fuck,” you whispered, eyes staring unblinking at your palms. the same officer mentioned something about shock, prompting all the boys to gather around you; atsumu pulled you in between him and sakusa, wrapping his arm around your shoulders, kenma and bokuto took hold of your quivering hands, sugawara and oikawa sat off to the side watching you with blatant concern, and kuroo and akaashi spoke to the officer in hushed tones.

the man nodded and shook their hands before shooting you a pitying smile and heading back to the car where meiko was waiting.

“it’s over angel, ‘s over,” atsumu muttered into your hair, pressing kisses to your forehead in between each phrase. you leaned into his touch but you refused to take your eyes off meiko who was watching the whole scene from the backseat, her eyes wide with anger, hurt, and confusion.

you didn’t bother dwelling on it, instead focusing on evening out your breathing and looking at the car drive over the horizon. you heard yachi’s soft voice calling everyone inside, atsumu lifting you up to your feet and walking with you, never once taking his hands off of you.

still, his words echoed in your head, even as yachi spoke of the end of the hyper house, even as the boys brought you to your room, and even as they all automatically cuddled around you in an attempt to get you to sleep.

it’s over. it’s all finally over.

you couldn’t keep the grin off your face if you tried.

℗ poker face

it’s over

series masterlist

(●’◡’●)ﾉ

an - OK THE TITLE IS MISLEADING THE STORY IS NOT OVER YET SKENSM (there are 2 more official story chapters before all the endings :3) also m not the biggest fan of this chapter?? so i’d love to hear what y’all think <33 don’t forget to feed me!!

taglist - if your name is in bold, i cannot tag you

@boosyboo9206 • @geektastic84 • @elianetsantana • @trashy-simp • @infinitebells • @6mattsun9 • @suhkusa • @katsulovee • @kotarosbabygirl • @fucktheworlddude • @insomniacwreck • @calumsfringe • @saltylettuce • @chai-blu • @al3x1ss • @hawksyoongi • @jooleuuh • @loubells • @kissungjae • @liberhoe • @tetsurocore • @animeoverdosee • @duhsies • @saiKishaircLip • @afire24 • @premiyagi • @kit-kat428 • @doctorspencereid • @daphnxy • @kyomihann • @maer-333 • @sinoflust19 • @peteunderoos • @peachiikichu • @iidanotlida • @yongboxerrr • @kac-chowsballs • @tanakaslastbraincell • @memorableminds • @risjime • @starry-magicshop • @sugavwara • @smuttyanimeslut • @kiwibirbs-library • @haijkk • @airybnb • @crybabygumi • @iwaisa • @decaffinatedtealover • @notameera • @kawaii-angelanne • @rintarovibes • @urlocalsimp • @keiarma • @shrimpypenis

the rest of the tags will be in the replies!!

[suna-reversed]

Hello :)

Sukuna. fluff. Pretty please.

Could you write something about sukuna falling for itadori's best friend. You can throw some angst in there too because I am a masochist❤️

Sukuna x F! Reader 

oh god, this turned purely self indulgent halfway through. low key thinking of turning this into a series to give you the angst you deserve.

A/N: (reader is Itadori’s senior and is 18) (loosely inspired by the song “me and my husband” by mitski)

“And I am the idiot with the painted face

In the corner, taking up space

But when he walks in, I am loved, I am loved”

——-

- You had been one of the few poor senior students who had been victim to what had been Itadori’s “elevator pitch” for more people to join the occult club early back in high school. [the said “elevator pitch” being him jumping out at random people with a white bedsheet over his head saying “boo” as he handed you the club form]

- You didn't end up joining the club. But you somehow did end up getting joined at the hip with the chaotic mess under the white sheet.

- Whether it was you two rushing to the theatre to watch Jennifer Lawrence’s new movie,  or going to a revolving sushi place [only to get pocky from a nearby vending machine instead because revolving sushi is apparently expensive], Itadori Yuuji had become a comforting and very important presence in your life.

- So of course when he suddenly dropped out of your life, being the worried friend you were, you decided to poke around a little only to find out that he was...dead?

- Maybe a few months down the line, you would’ve started to slightly recover from the tragic news you had just gotten. Instead, what you got was your supposedly dead best friend popping up days later to tell you that he ate a finger and now he was the vessel for some centuries old curse,,,

- Um yeah...safe to say that Yuji did not expect you to go into the fit of emotions that you did [boy had the audacity to call you dramatic for fainting and then crying while hugging him once you gained consciousness] 

- some time passed and Yuji and you didn’t see each other much with him practically training to be the strongest jujutsu sorcerer. Still, simply happy to have him back alive, your brain managed to convinced itself that everything was still the same. 

- And it was when he’d sneak out a day or two from his heavy schedule and you’d be back to your normal routine of watching movies, stuffing your face with snacks, getting your face licked by the mouth on Yuji’s hand…

- ,,,wait what

- The first time the curse had made contact with you was simply out of annoyance of why the stupid brat even took the time to see someone as mundane as you so often.

- His plan was to simply scare you into leaving, knowing it would cause the brat pain.

- So he grabbed the opportunity when Yuji moved forward to brush off some popcorn dust on the side of your mouth, not only licking the side of your face but also being successful in slightly grazing his teeth against your tender skin. 

- Yuji had mentioned that being a vessel had caused some weird physical “abnormalities” for him. you didn’t understand it back then but at least knowing that had sort of prepared you for such an instance.

- So imagine the curse’s surprise [and an even further growing annoyance] when your eyes barely widened for a second before you burst into laugher, 

“Didn’t you train your dog to not bite?”

- by now, Yuji had jumped 5 feet away from you and was still halfway through his string of apologies, but upon hearing your reaction, he mused on your fake calm while letting out a chuckle himself, 

- “Guess I’ve got to get a leash for him” 

- By this point, the ever so indifferent curse had taken two teenagers talking about him like a mere annoyance as a personal challenge.

- And that’s how it started.

- He’d come out every now and then, licking your fingers as Yuji passed you something or making lewd remarks on anything and everything that you ever started a conversation about. 

- But you and Yuji barely paid him attention and it was an understatement to say that it infuriated the living hell out of him.

- Particularly you, who wouldn’t even be annoyed or sarcastic about his tactics anymore. Instead, treating him like a friend who was simply joining you and the brat to hang out. 

- He hated it. Hated how bright your laugh was. Hated how you made them stop every time you saw a stray animal just so you could pet it. Hated how your skin was as soft as a cloud and how you sometimes smelled like cherry blossoms. He’d kill you in an instant if he could ugh.

- it was a weekend and Yuji and you had been watching a movie, even though Yuji was barely paying attention. You knew he was tired as his large frame slumped over your shoulder. Pulling the blanket up to his face, you once again felt the wet feeling of the assaults you had grown familiar with on the side of your hand.

- “You could’ve just asked for a pocky if you wanted one, no need to lick it off my fingers you grumpy little thing”, you laughed as you stood up to go to the bathroom

- that snapped the final string. 

- Coming back into your living room, you wondered if Yuji had somehow gotten up in his sleep and managed to draw weird black lines over himself all in the span of 5 minutes. 

- ‘Yuji, what the fuck?’

- ‘Well well, now who’s acting like a grumpy little thing’ 

- The deep voice sent rumbles down your spine and you knew in an instant what had happened. 

- Even though your breath hitched in your throat and your body begged for you to run as fast away as you can, you held your ground as you simply tilted your head at the curse 

- “Well, I’d like my best friend back if you don’t mind.”

- You saw the smirk on Sukuna’s face falter for just a second before he crossed the space between the couch and you.

- Now as strong of a front as you managed to hold up until now, watching something like that stride straight towards you would have had even the strongest of sorcerers shitting bricks.

- Instinctively, you took a few steps backwards, but he simply continued to close the distance between the two of you until you were backed up against the wall.

- You flinched as he slammed a hand right next to your head and he seemed to gain immense satisfaction from that as he looked down at your startled face with a smirk plastered on his tattooed face. 

- Sukuna was sure that you’d be begging for his mercy any second now. His smirk widened and he was ready to mock your pleas as he saw you open your mouth to say something, 

- “ ...so much for a damn pocky.”

- All those other times you had caught the curse off guard were nothing compared to the “partially-confused partially-baffled” expression that he held on his face now. It almost made him look human. Almost.

- You didn’t realise just how long you were holding his gaze until Yuji took back control and apologized like a million times over, reassuring you that he would’ve never let you get hurt. 

- The curse didn’t show up for almost a week after that. And while you were grateful for not having to wash off your hands or face 14 times a day, you somehow felt anxious about its sudden disappearance. 

- All those worries were thrown out the window as he once again showed up while Yuji was passed out on the couch after a particularly tough session with Gojo sensei.

- Looking at the curse, you felt anger more than anything, how could he just drop out on you with no warning and then show up in the middle of your living room- ...wait a second, why the hell are you mad at a literal curse for not telling you he was taking a mental health break or whatever it was that he was doing? 

- While you sorted out through these conflicting thoughts in your mind, the curse seemed to be going through a similar crisis. 

- Having woken up in the brat’s fragile human body with no warning whatsoever, Sukuna wasn’t in the mood to see your face so soon again. He didn’t know why your physical presence unsettled him so much. All he knew was that he hated it. Even more now that he knew what you looked like all scared and small compared to his vessel’s towering build, and how you smelled even sweeter than what he had tasted, and how despite all that you still had the courage to stand up to someone as dangerous as him. Ugh, disgusting. 

- “The stupid brat passed out.”

- Such a simple statement caused you to snap your head up at him. But he didn’t wait for your reaction as he somehow managed to plop down on the couch while still looking graceful. Picking up the half eaten box of pocky, he warily pulled one out, eyeing it as if it was  a poisoned dagger before breaking off a piece and placing it on his tongue.

- “This is what you would risk your life for, brat?” 

- He turned his head slightly to look at you still frozen in place, staring at him with that doe eyed look that made his chest burn a little. Isn’t this what he wanted all along?

- “Are you simply going to stand there and gawk? I don’t bite-...well, not unless you ask me to.”

- He knew that would set you right back to your usual self,

 - “...maybe we do need to get a leash after all.”

- Sukuna internally grinned as he saw you move to the other side of the couch, ready to hear whatever more of the snarky comeback that you’d have (not that he was anticipating it, it was just the better alternative to being gaped at. Or so he told himself)

- “You ate the non chocolate covered part of the pocky by the way-”

- “As if a layer of this disgusting brown substance can make the rotten stick taste bette-”

- “Well aren’t sticks all you had to eat in yOuR TiME anyways?”- 

—-

- You somehow managed to fall asleep after the bickering, proceeding to sit in silence after you told him to not bother you while you tried to read. You wouldn’t admit it, but you were a little disappointed when he actually didn’t. Instead, he sat on the couch with a slight smirk still plastered on his face, continuing to simply gaze at you. your heart did lunges every time you slyly looked up from your book to take a peak at him. you wondered how many ways he had come up with to kill you so far. 

- On the other hand, the curse sat idly, watching you while his thoughts rumbled in his mind. Maybe killing you can be pushed off the agenda for now. There are much better ways to hurt the brat anyways aren't there? Perhaps he could use one of these brownish covered sticks to-...what is he thinking?

- He ultimately deems it stupid brat’s humane emotions and sheer stupidity that must be interfering with his thoughts.

- A loud sneeze snaps him out of his daze as he sees you slumped against a pillow, your book falling off your lap. And then he does something that he immediately decides that he would pretend to have not done for the rest of his existence. Luckily, the brat takes back control right after he does it anyways.

- But that thought slips his mind as he finds himself replaying the serene look on your face as he gently pulled the book out of your hands, and how his hands shook a little as you nuzzled your nose into the fabric of the blanket that he pulled over you. How could you have felt so calm around him?

[ultraintrovertedgryffindor]

Ooh ooh can you do newt or Thomas falling for Gally’s little sister? And him just being his normal grumpy self about it?? Please

When I think of Gally, I never think "brother"...but sure! Lmao. Got a little bit carried away with this one sooo, enjoy?

2k words🤙🏻

~~~~~~~~~~

You had a brother, and you didn't even remember. Well, until you got stung by a Griever.

Being stuck in a Maze full of girls and one boy, it didn't even occur to you to wonder if you had any family outside of the concrete walls. You only considered your fellow Icers to be your family. But being one of the few lucky (or unlucky) souls that lived through getting stung by a Griever, you remembered so much; not a lot, but you didn't care that you couldn't, you were just so thankful you could remember Gally.

After escaping the Maze, you prayed to every deity you could think of hoping that Gally survived somehow, wherever he was.

Seeing the new arrivals from Group A, seeing that it was mostly boys and one girl, you knew that had to be where Gally was. You didn't even hesitate, you ran up to the group as they entered the cafeteria, all wide-eyed and staring at you like you were a lunatic. "Is Gally with you?" Your question seemed to make everyone speechless, a few seconds having to pass before one boy spoke up.

"Wait, you know Gally?" A blonde boy with a British accent asked.

"He's my brother."

"He's dead." A voice rang out, coming from the brown haired boy that stood in front of the group.

You froze, feeling your heart beat erratically. "What?" You stuttered.

"Are you deaf? I said he's dead, and he had it coming."

"Tommy-" The blonde placed his hand on "Tommy's" shoulder, but he pushed him off.

"He killed my friend, tried to kill me, all of us. He was insane-" You couldn't let him speak any longer, you cut him off by landing a rough punch to his cheek. He stumbled backwards, obviously getting caught by surprise. You moved to hit him again, but you were quickly detained by a couple of guards who were watching the whole encounter.

"You bastard!" You screamed, not caring who was watching or who heard you; you were in such agony that you couldn't even think. Your fist ached to wipe that almost smug look off of that brunette's face, even though it was already throbbing from when you first hit him. At that point, it didn't matter. You couldn't find it in yourself to care where the guards were dragging you.

The next day, by some miracle or stroke of luck, you managed to befriend the blonde who you now learned was called Newt. He apologized for his friend's behavior, and he filled you in on everything that happened to your brother. It was a shock, a painful one, to hear what he did under the influence of Griever venom, but it didn't lessen your love for him, not one bit. Newt tried to make you understand that Thomas wasn't a bad guy, he was just in pain from his own loss and needed someone to blame. It didn't matter what he said, you still felt deep anger for the so called leader.

But as your luck would have it, you were all but forced to join Thomas' group. Learning that you were all in a W.C.K.D. compound, you didn't really have a choice in the matter. Aris seemed to trust them, and Newt was good at convincing you, so you were doomed from the start.

It was tense in the beginning, having to be in the company of the boy you attacked, a nice purple bruise formed on his cheekbone that managed to stay there for awhile. You tried to hide that fact that you smirked every time you spotted the shiner, but apparently not well enough.

It became almost comical how often you and Thomas would bicker back and forth, every day, any chance you both got. Of course, neither of you thought it was amusing, but everyone thought so, and that was even more annoying. Some days, you wished you had stayed at that W.C.K.D. facility, getting your blood drained sounded more appealing than having to converse with Thomas the blockhead every day.

You tried to fight it, your growing affection for the idiot. You found yourself...caring, about the boy. It was hard to ignore, how your chest seemed to tighten unbearably whenever you feared for his life, how you felt heat rise up beneath the skin of your cheeks whenever he said your name, even if it was in anger or annoyance. There came a point when you couldn't hide it anymore, when Thomas stopped hissing your name and started to speak it more delicately, almost fondly.

Likewise with Thomas, he started to care for you. It was a drastic change from when you two first met, absolutely hating each other to saving each other's lives from time to time. Being Gally's sister, Thomas viewed you as someone not to be trusted, even before he actually knew you. His hatred for Gally seemed to pass over to you, even though you were your own person. The punch you managed to land on him just strengthened that belief. But he couldn't refuse Newt when he talked him into taking you with them when they planned to escape. Then, he was forced to get along with you.

It didn't take long for Thomas to view you as someone different from Gally, before you were one and the same, but you had a kind of softness that he never saw in Gally. He grew self-conscious of his interactions with you after the group started joking that you both argued like an old married couple, as if they even knew what that looked like. But they were eventually proved right when Thomas started to protect you more than others, he just brushed it off by saying you were the weakest and needed to be treated as such. He totally didn't do it because he was afraid of losing you, how stupid would that be...

The betrayal of Teresa only brought the both of you closer, sharing in the pain of losing family, even if it was different circumstances. Thomas staring into your soul with those big brown eyes, you so badly wanted to kiss him, but you remembered how hatful he was to you in the beginning, how you were as well, you thought he couldn't possibly reciprocate if you were to lean in; the thought along scared you out of doing it.

As you started planning the details of recusing Minho, the unexpected happened. You were all captured by men in masks, put in the back of vans and transported to who knows where. But when the leader took off his mask, you almost fainted.

"Gally?"

Your trembling voice seemed to echo throughout the group, causing Gally to almost drop his gun. "Y/n?" He remembered you, he actually remembered you.

You went to jump into his arms, but Thomas beat you to the punch, literally. You immediately went to stop him from beating Gally to a pulp, along with Newt, convincing him to back off. "Kinda had that coming." Gally rubbed his aching jaw.

Like most family reunions, it was awkward at first. You had so much you wanted to tell Gally, and you could tell he did too, but business came first. But eventually, you did have time alone with him. You talked about what you remembered about each other, time in the Mazes, how he survived, how you ended up with Thomas' group. You were just so happy to have your brother back, even if no one else shared the same sentiment. You had actual flesh and blood in this world, it was a feeling you couldn't even begin to describe.

You instantly picked up on Thomas' wariness of your brother, the last memory of him killing someone important to him. But you tried to get across that Gally wasn't that same person in the Glade, he was different now, more grown up and mature. "Come on, Thomas, just give him a second chance. Doesn't everyone deserve a second chance? You gave me one."

"That was different. You punched me, not killed one of my friends."

You sighed. "Gally was stung, Thomas. You know how that affects people."

Thomas didn't want to budge on his opinion, but he knew you were right. Your pleading eyes didn't really make him stand a chance anyway. He promised you he'd play nice, even though ever fiber of his being wanted to put another spear through the guy's chest.

For Gally, seeing you again was like a breath of fresh air, filling his lung. You were always going to be his baby sister, even if you were grown and could take care of yourself. You managed to make it through the Scorch and could outrun Cranks, he was proud of you. What worried him though was how close you seemed to be with Thomas. It's not like Gally hated Thomas like he did him, but that big brother side of him wanted to shield you away from anyone and everyone, Thomas was no exception.

It was funny at first, Gally being overprotective of you, but it soon lost its charm. Every time you were alone with Thomas, Gally always managed to show up at the worst times. It annoyed you and you could clearly see how it annoyed Thomas, but Gally always had an amused smirk on his face.

You loved your brother and you had missed him so much, but he needed to chill out. "Why must you follow me around like a lost puppy, Gal?" You whined.

"What? I can't make sure my baby sister is okay?"

"I'm not a baby anymore, Gally. I can take care of myself. I don't need you hovering over my shoulder all the time."

"It's my responsibility to make sure you stay out of trouble, especially when you're always hanging around Thomas." He mumbled that last half of that sentence.

You scoffed. "Oh come on. Really?"

"I see the way you two look at each other. Need I remind you that he left me to die?"

"Gally..." You spoke softly. "That was a long time ago, you both were different then. Truth is, I've been on my own for most of my life, I've had to learn how to take care of myself. I love that you're back in my life, I've missed you so much...but I don't need you to take care of me anymore."

Gally chuckled weakly. "My earliest memory is having to take care of you...you scraped your knee after falling down on the sidewalk and you were crying. I cleaned you up, put a Band-Aid on your cut and kissed it. I said that...I said that-"

"Your kisses were magic, that they could heal any wound."

"Then you said that magic wasn't real, stupidhead." He chuckled softly, his smile turning into a frown.

"You don't have to worry about me anymore, Gally. And as for Thomas...I care about it, a lot. And he cares about me. He's a good guy, you just have to give him a chance."

Gally sighed and rolled his eyes. "Fine. But if he even looks at you the wrong way, he'll be six feet under faster than he can say wicked."

Eventually, you could see a pleasant change in Thomas' behavior around Gally. After the war with W.C.K.D. and the rescue mission, he and Gally seemed to grow closer, just a little bit. But it was even to make you know that everything would be okay.

"So, are you and Gal best buds now?" You teased Thomas, poking his side while to two of you sat next to the campfire together.

Thomas scoffed, smacking your hand away. "Yeah, right. He wished he could be best friends with me, I'm too cool for him."

"Not." You snorted. "My brother is the coolest person I know."

"Well, am I at least in second place?"

You giggled. "Yes, of course." You placed a quick kiss on his cheek.

"Just a kiss on the cheek? What, is Gally around or something?" He looked around obnoxiously. "No, I don't see him anywhere."

"Oh, shut up, ya idiot." You shut him up by placing a kiss on his lips, feeling him smile as he raised his hand up to hold the back of your head.

"Hey, hey, hey, cut that out." You both groaned as Gally's voiced boomed in your ears, causing you both to hesitantly pull away from each other.

"Gally the cockblock, who would've thought?"

~~~~~~~~~~

apparently group B were called Icers in the graphic novels? The more you knowww