#and ya girl still has a busted knee. so it’s like. will i be able to do this

[fingertipsmp3]

I got a job interview on the same day my current contract ends lol. Is my run of bad luck coming to an end or is it more of the same though 🧐

[haiikaiii]

Wap dance with Alcina

You have been obsessed with Cardi B's new song "WAP".

And Alcina noticed you were wearing those weird headbands more often. She never was that interested in all this modern stuff, but when her girls started wearing those headbands you bought them, she had to get to the bottom of this fuss.

One day she had enough of being clueless and decided to approach you. You were her wife goddammit! Alcina looked all over for you, knowing that calling you wasn't going to work since those music machines get you so invested that you can't hear a word she says.

Finally, after looking in the kitchen, the bedroom you share, near the fireplace, under the couch she went to the music room. She slowly opened the door just enough to take a peek inside. And.. there you were. Looking at your phone. She was just about to come in when you started talking to yourself.

- Alright, my knees hurt like hell, but just one last shot. I've almost got it.

What are you talking about? Why are you hurt? Alcina had so many questions. She was about to come in, but everything was answered just a few seconds later.

When you started dancing, in ways Alcina didn't even know existed, she was floored.

She was familiar with a waltz and slow dances. Her favorite moments were when you and her would waltz at night. Alone. Just enjoying each other's company.

But this... wow.

And when you started crawling on the floor and THEN YOU FINISHED IT WITH A SPLIT.

LAWD.

How come you never told her you could do the splits?!

Over her fangirling, she leaned forward too much and busted down the door.

-Who knew the ever so stoic Countess would be such a stalker, hm?

- I wasn't stalking, merely passing by.

- Right... So did you enjoy the show?

Oh. You knew she was looking. I mean you may not be able to hear over your headphones, but your peripheral vision betrayed your lovely wife.

Even very tall, beautiful, amazingly smart, strong, powerful, vampire women have weaknesses.

The room fell silent for a moment. Alcina realized she was still on the floor, so she got up and stared at you for about two seconds before picking you up and kissing you all over. To your surprise, she started full-on running with you in her arms while kissing your neck. You couldn't hold your moans any longer.

She fiddled with the doorknob for a second and finally opened the door. She threw you on the bed and got on top of you, carefully straddling your hips so that she wouldn't crush you.

- Now show me those splits darling...

________________________________________________________________

                                   Next day

You woke up with everything aching. Good lord, you were worn out.

You could still remember some parts of last night, although everything will come back eventually.

You noticed that Alcina wasn't in the bed next to you. Bummer, since you couldn't walk to look for her, you lost your voice screaming her name last night.

God that woman has stamina.

You decided to wait for her to eventually check up on you since she does every morning if she doesn't wake up right by your side, all cuddled up.

About 10 minutes passed with you staring at the ceiling to try and remember last night, when your thoughts were cut off by the door opening and a certain tall and amazingly beautiful walking in with a plater of breakfast foods and two coffee cups.

- Good morning dear. Are you feeling alright?

- Morning, I feel like one of Heisenberg's failed machines. Do you remember when he was trying out his new fake crow, that flying fuck exploded all over our garden? But last night was amazing. Well, the parts I remember at least.

- Don't remind me of that fool this early. Here have some breakfast and we will get you all fixed up in no time.

- Thank you, Alci. The coffee smells wonderful. Sit down will ya.

You said patting the space next to you and handing her the cup.

- So any particular reason for your "passing by" yesterday?

She swallowed a sip of coffee and looked at you in defeat.

- I was going to ask you about your music headband, you and the girls have been so invested in that thing, that I just had to know what was so special.

You looked at her straight in her golden eyes and burst out laughing, almost spilling the cup of coffee all over the sheets.

After finally calming down and looking at Alcina's bewildered face you started explaining.

- Sorry Alci, oh god when you said " music headband" I couldn't hold it in anymore. Those are headphones and they play music. But like only to you when you wear them. It's like a more private way of listening to your Beethoven if you will.

-  The gramophone isn't even that loud. I have no clue what you are talking about.

Alcina pouted while sipping her coffee.

- Right, anyhow I can let you try it. Go fetch it for me from the music room. I'm sure you know what it looks like. And grab my phone too.

She left the room and after a few minutes came back with the famous headphones in her hands.

Alcina handed you the headphones and phone and sat down in her previous spot. You turned them on and grabbed your phone.

- Come to closer Alci.

She scooted closer to you and you plopped the headphones on her. Not going to lie you almost started laughing. There you were looking at your puzzled wife with your headphones on and a cup of coffee in her hand.

You turned the volume slightly down and started playing "WAP".

Oh, the face of shock that covered Alcina's face.

You were holding back laughter so hard.

She had this look of shock and fear combined and it was priceless.

After the song was done you took them off of her.

- So, now you know what the fuss is about. What do you think?

- I have so many questions, but I do know one thing. You, modern people, are unreal. Every foreign traveler that comes here is so baffled by me, yet this is normal? How does it even work?

You giggled.

- We have time, let me tell you about the wonderful world outside of rural Romania. You are missing out Alci.

________________________________________________________________

Check out my acc on wattpad  https://www.wattpad.com/user/Schnitelz  

Hope y’all enjoyed!!

[rebeccccccaaa]

O̶l̶d̶ M̶a̶n̶ M̶o̶v̶e̶s̶

__________________________ Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: Steve shows you a thing or two about being an old man. 

Warnings: *AGE GAP*, smut 18+ minors dni, very dark/inappropriate joke (only mentioned once but beware)

Author’s Notes: I know this isn’t the most original but hEr yA gO lol (ps this a long one but boy is it a good read #prettyproud ;) lmao) __________________________

“Hey Nat, do you know anything about World War II?” you peeked your head in her room.

“Nope, ask Steve.”

“Hey Tony, do you know anything about World War II?” you walked into the lab.

“Nope, ask Steve.”

“Hey Sam, where’s Bucky?” you walked in the kitchen.

“Mission.”

“Well, do you know anything about  World War II?”

“Nope, ask Steve,” you grunted and rolled your eyes.

“Hey Wanda, do you know anything about World War II?”

“Nope, have you asked Steve?” 

“Ugh! Everyone keeps saying that,” you flopped down on her bed.  

“And why aren't you asking him?” 

You looked at her raising an eyebrow. She was the only, well you think Nat knows but Wanda is the only person you told about your little crush on the super soldier. Upon seeing your face, Wanda chuckled humorously. One time she caught you during a meeting thinking about Steve; every part of Steve. To say you were embarrassed would be an understatement. 

“What about Bucky?”

“He’s on a mission. Hey, what are you watching?”

“Malcolm in the Middle.”

“Nice.”

You laughed at the show for a bit before grunting remembering that you had to finish the history report for your college professor who’s as old as sliced bread. Before you walked out Vision phased through the door. 

“Ooh! Vis, tell me everything about World War II!”

“No, Vis! Don’t tell her a single thing! You have to ask Steve,” she scolded. 

“No!”

“Yes!”

“Wanda,” you whined.

“I’m pretty sure he’s in his room,” she smirked.

“Please don’t make me do it,” you begged hyperbolically. 

“Then fail your report,” she smirked evilly.

“Dammit, Wanda,” you left her room hearing her snicker. 

You stomped to your room and collapsed on your bed. You sat at your computer for twenty minutes until a knock disturbed your dreadful staring. 

“Steve!” you shouted opening the door.

“Hey, Sam told me you needed help with a history report?”

“Sam told you?”

“Yeah; and Tony, and Nat, and Wanda,” Steve phoned chimed suddenly.

“Oh, uh, Buck just texted me saying Sam told him that you need help with uh, a history report,” he chuckled.

“Yeah, World War II,” you gritted.

“Well,” he stood awkwardly at your door still.

“Come in,” you moved over to let him in.

Steve walked in and sat on the edge of your bed. You scurried over and threw yourself on the bed gathering all your papers and books and your laptop. You sat criss crossed on the bed before looking up at him ready for learning, I guess.

“Ok so what exactly do you need to know?” Steve smiled.

“Oh well, uh, maybe we start with life before soldiers got drafted?” you suggested.

Steve smiled remembering tons of stories and memories of him and Bucky being teenagers in New York. You stopped caring about your report altogether and just kicked back to listen to all about Steve. The way he lit up whenever remembered something he forgot to tell you made your heart burst. 

At one point he started laughing so hard, as were you, when he slapped his hand directly on your thigh and squeezed hard from pure humor. Needless to say, you instantly stopped laughing and zeroed in on his large hand and the way it gripped your thigh. 

“Awe man, that such was a good day,” he breathed out once he cooled down.

“Yeah, it’s kinda weird,” you said, coming back to reality.

“Why’s that weird?”

“I don’t know? You’re the captain, you don’t have fun. You’re an old man,” you giggled.

“Old man? Kid, you’re hurting me,” he clutched his chest dramatically.

“Hey, I already told you to stop calling me kid. I’m twenty years old,” you crossed your arms. 

“Hey come on, I’m just joshing ya,” he smirked.

“Who the fuck says ‘joshing ya’?” you laughed.

“What, the kids don’t say that nowadays?” he laughed.

“No!” you were cracking up rolling on the bed.

“You’re supposed to be doing your history report,” he defended.

“You’re such an old man, oh god.”

“And you’re such a child,” he pinned you down on the bed.

“Ooh, someone busting out the old man moves. Get off grandpa,” you smirked.

“Make me, kid,” he emphasized ‘kid’.

You two glared at each amusingly, both trying you very best to not smile. Your shirt had ridden up your stomach and Steve could somewhat see the exposed skin. He didn't think you were a kid per say, he thought you were a very beautiful young woman; too young. He didn’t think it would be appropriate to pursue any sort of relationship with you; it’s not like you were very incognito when it came to checking him out. He knew that you liked him. 

Explains all the teasing you do too. 

The close proximity between you two make you both bothersome; Steve's muscle clenching and fighting every urge in his body to do something he might regret, or worse, something you’ll regret. Your stomach flipped and your mind wandered to what it would be like if you were in this position under different circumstances. 

In an attempt to relieve yourself without Steve knowing you clenched your thighs softly before moving your knee up. Upon moving your knee, your eyes widened and Steve instantly got off you covering his modesty with your sheet. Your face slowly turned into a mischievous smirk before raising your eyebrow at Steve, who profusely blushed under your taunting gaze. 

“Do kids turn you on?” you joked.

“Y/n!” Steve groaned at your highly inappropriate joke.

“I’m kidding!” Steve simply rolled his eyes at you.

“I’m just joshing ya,” you grinned, making Steve chuckle.

“How much of your report have you done?” Steve reached for your laptop; making you panic because you didn’t even have your name let alone a title typed out. 

“Seriously?” he looked at you like a stern father.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you said.

“You don’t even have your name,” he cracked a smile.

“Well, your stories are just too captivating; I was distracted,” you weren’t exactly lying, seeing Steve seem so relaxed and carefree thinking back on memories made you smile. 

“Distracted,” he repeated sarcastically.

“Yeah, I was,” you felt small as Steve got closer to you.

“Is this distracting now?” he mocked.

“Maybe,” you whispered.

He looked at your lips before running his nose along your cheek and your own nose. He pressed his lips too close to your lips, of which you were desperate for him to touch. Your hands grabbed at his arms that were held tightly on your waist for any sort of stability. You felt like you were going to pass out. 

“You better finish that report if you know what’s good for you,” he whispered against your lips. 

“Huh?” you breathed out seeing as Steve has stood up and made his way to your door. 

“You heard me. Come find me when you’ve been a good girl and finished that report,” he slipped out smoothly leaving you high and dry, or rather soaking in arousal. 

Your eyes were practically bulging from your head and you couldn’t believe the Steve with that gnarly stick up his ass was the same one that just easily turned you on like an easy-bake oven and called you a ‘good girl’. You immediately rushed to grab your laptop googling facts about World War II and typed faster than Usain Bolt could run.

Meanwhile Steve stood in the shower with cock in hand, his thumb rubbing over the tip leaking with precum. He ran his hand down his shaft and threw his head back at the pleasure. He moaned your name and tensed his muscles getting close to a release. 

He had to hold on to the wall to keep his knees from buckling. The sight of seeing you under him, squirming and wiggling so innocently made his cock twitch. He knew that you liked him, it wasn’t necessarily a huge secret; you weren’t desperate to hide that fact. But he knew you weren’t going around telling people so he never said anything. 

He went to your room genuinely trying to help with your college report and he got enthralled with his own memories. He didn’t exactly know when the air shifted but he realized it indefinitely when your body tensed under his hand that rested perfectly on your thigh. 

He remembers the softness of skin and remembers the way your breathing quickened. He kept the conversation going as innocently as possible but then you started teasing him about his age, about what an old fashioned sucker he was. And all he could think about in that moment was flipping you over and fucking you into the mattress you showing his “old man moves”. 

“Fuck,” he moaned to himself.

Soon enough after a couple more pumps, he painted the shower walls with his cum desperately wishing it was your stomach or even your back. He just wanted you there with him. He felt guilty thinking about you like that. He knew if he were ever to get with you he wouldn't be able to keep up. You were so spright and mischievous and beautiful and gorgeous and sexy and… wait; slow down, Steve.

He got out of the shower and cleaned himself off. He changed and just stayed in his room letting the sounds of the TV drown any thoughts he might wandered to you. A sudden knock broke the silence settled in his room and he opened the door to find his best friend. 

“Hey, man,” Bucky smiled.

“Buck, your back,” Steve opened the door further letting him come in. 

“Oh, did you get my text? About helping Y/n with her report? Heard it’s like forty percent of her grade,” he said. 

“Yeah uh, I did,” Steve said hesitantly; Bucky narrowed his eyes at him suspiciously.

“What did you do?” he asked.

“Nothing,” Steve retorted.

“I don’t believe you. Come on what happened?” Buck chuckled.

“She called me an old man,” Steve pouted.

“Haha! Seriously?”

“Yeah but jokes on her cuz I-” Steve stopped himself, what if his best friend thought he was a creep.

“Oh no, did you guys fuck?” he asked suddenly.

“Buck,” Steve groaned.

“You did, didn’t you!”

“Almost!” Steve bursted out, his eyes widening in fear.

“Hey, why are you all freaked out? I thought you liked her?” Bucky questioned.

“Yeah, but what? She’s too young. I thought you were gonna think I was a creep,” Steve was confused.

“Well, how old is she?”

“She’s uh, she’s twenty, almost twenty-one,” he muttered.

“Oh, yikes. Uh, I don’t know man. I mean you’re both adults,” Bucky said. 

“Fuck, man. I really fucked up,” Steve said making Bucky ‘language’ him of which Steve glared back.

“Did you kiss her?”

“No, almost,” Steve responded.

“Ok then what happened?”

Steve explained to Bucky what happened just hours ago and Bucky couldn’t help but laugh at his poor friend's antics.

“You’re such a fucking tease, Steve,” Bucky joked.

“Buck, you’re not helping,” Steve grunted.

“Well, either you keep your promise and fuck her good, or be that old man she called you with a stick up your ass and make her feel like shit. No pressure though. See for dinner, I’m going to beat the shit out of Sam,” Bucky stood up.

“What’d he do?”

“Nothing,” with that Bucky left. 

Steve sat there on his bed conflicted. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do. All he knows is that you’re a beautiful girl and Steve wants nothing more than to show you; he knows you'd be more than willing to let him have his way with you. But on the contrary, you are too young. There are tons of guys who would be so lucky to call you theirs; and they’re your age. 

Then again, Steve can’t even imagine another man putting his hands on you. They’d never be able to pleasure you like he could. Ugh, but you called him an old man! Fuck this, Steve thought, I’m taking a nap.

-

You sat in your room busying yourself with facts about the war. You cried about the horrid things that happened, terrified that people that live in the world. You were even more shocked that Bucky and Steve lived through that. 

You glanced at the clock noticing the many hours that had passed you. It was sundown which usually meant Wanda was going to come by any minute-

“What do you want for dinner?” There she is. 

“Uh, I’m not sure. Haven't had much time to think about it,” you said lifting your laptop.

“Did Steve come?”

“I don’t know but he came pretty close,” you said snarkily. When he left about 5 minutes after you had to change your panties because you couldn’t focus on the report with arousal dripping out of you. 

“What the hell does that mean?” Wanda sat on your bed. You told what happened when Steve came by, how innocent everything seemed until it wasn’t. Wanda was rolling on your bed in laughter, snorting at your frustration. 

“Wandaaa,” you whined. 

“Sorry, sorry. But I’m confused,” she cooled down.

“What’s there to be confused about; Steve Rogers is a fucking tease,” you grunted. 

“I thought this is what you want. He clearly seems to like you back,” she said. 

“I don’t know it’s just-”

“Just what?”

“It’s not exactly clear whether he likes me or just wants some young, fresh meat. He didn’t say he liked me back.”

“Did you say you liked him in the first place?”

“No.” Wanda sighed at your answer. Were you overreacting?

“Y/n, I’ve known Steve for a long time and he’s not that kinda guy.”

“People change.”

“Y/n-”

“I just wish it stayed like a little stupid crush, because then I wouldn’t have to worry about my heart getting broken like that; worrying whether it’s real or not. Pining hurts so good, it’s comfortable.”

“Well, on a lighter note, how’s the report?” Wanda changed the subject so you wouldn’t feel bad anymore.

“I’m almost done, I think I’m gonna skip out on dinner. I’m really close to finishing,” you told her.

“Want me to bring you a plate?” she asked.

“Yes, please.”

-

Everyone sat at the table eating silently. Sam held an ice pack to his face because Bucky accidentally threw a rock at him; seriously it was an accident. Bucky threw the rock at his groin but Sam tripped back and the rock landed on his face. There are no hard feelings though, Sam said he was gonna get him and now Bucky’s arm is disabled and limp.

Steve stared at the seat across from him, it was the seat you always took next to Wanda. You weren’t here for dinner and he was wondering if it had something to do with him. Did he make you uncomfortable enough that you never want to see him? 

“She’s finishing her report,” Wanda said, her voice echoing in Steve’s head.

“Ooh what’s the gossip?” Nat said humorously seeing as Wanda’s eyes glowed red as did Steve’s. 

“Nothing,” Steve mumbled. 

“He was wondering where Y/n was?” Wanda said making Steve shoot daggers at her. 

“You miss your little girlfriend?” Sam joked.

“Shut it,” Steve growled.

“She never misses dinner. Where the brat?” Tony asked.

“She has a history report for a college class and she told me she was almost done and that she was gonna skip dinner,” Wanda explained.

No more questions were asked and everyone ate in peace. Small talk and laughter was exchanged appropriately but Steve couldn’t help but wonder if maybe you lied to Wanda to get out of dinner. What if you hate him now? What if you were creeped out by him now? Fuck.

“Steve your plate?” Wanda asked him. 

“Oh sorry, I’m finished. Thank you,” he handed her the plate of picked food. 

“Y/n, asked me if I could bring her a plate when we were finished.”

Steve simply looked puzzled at her. 

“Take this. And don’t break her heart,” she said handing him your plate. 

“I would never,” he said.

“Don’t tell me, tell her.”

Steve walked hesitantly up to your room. He knocked careful not to disturb you. He heard you shout, giving him access to your room and he found you laying on your stomach typing away on your laptop while cartoons played lowly on the TV.

“I brought your dinner,” he said softly.

“Thank you! Ugh, I’m starving but I swear I have like two sentences.”

He smiled and placed your food on your bedside before sitting on the bed with you. He watched your face carefully memorizing the smallest things about you that he’s never really noticed before. He noticed the dryness of your lips because you bit them whenever you were immensely focused just as now. 

He admired the small creases between your eyebrows and the way you scrunched your nose. Your hair was a little crazy and he noticed you had changed since he’d last been with you. He thinks he knows why that is and if it was true, he felt a sense of pride almost. Imagine if he really got to touch the way he wants. How ruined you would be. 

“Steve?” you asked.

“I’m sorry?” he asked.

“Are you ok?” you smiled awkwardly. 

“Oh uh, yeah. I’m ok.”

You ate quietly, eyes trained on the TV and Steve felt out of place. He went to stand up but you placed your food down and called after him.

“Where are you going?” you asked.

“I didn’t think you wanted me here anymore,” he said softly. 

“But, but you said to come find you when I finish my report. You’re already here,” you said shyly.

“Sweetheart, I don’t think-”

“I was a good girl and finished,” you said innocently biting your lip.

“Y/n,” Steve sighed. 

“What?” Oh no, you guessed it. He doesn’t actually like you and he's just messing with you.

“Hey look at me,” Steve grabbed your chin softly. You didn’t want to but you ultimately did.

“I want nothing more than to reward you for being a good girl but I can’t,” he said sadly.

“It's because I’m too young, isn’t it,” you whined. 

“I can’t do that to you. You have your whole life ahead of you, sweetheart. An old man like me shouldn’t keep you back like this,” he said.

“You’re not keeping anywhere, I’m an Avenger just like you. I don’t have anybody else. I’m only going to college because Tony’s paying for it and I took this stupid histroy class because I wanted to know more about what life was like for you. Because I like you,” you said. 

“Y/n, you can have anyone and you’re choosing me?” he chuckled.

“Yes, guys my age don’t even know where the clit is!” you shouted exasperated.

“Show them,” he said stupidly.

“Ah, yes. Because a twenty-two year old college frat boy is gonna wanna listen to you tell him how to have sex,” you said squinting your eyes, making Steve chuckle.

“I don’t want a guy my age, I want you.”

Steve cupped your face softly and you leaned into his hand with a childish pout. Steve smiled at you and your pout turned into a smile too. 

“You’re gonna be the death of me, babygirl,” he sighed, pushing you down to lay on the bed.

“Not if you die from a stroke first old man,” you cracked. 

Steve wrapped his large hand around your neck bringing his face dangerously close yours.

“Smart mouth, and to think I was about to reward you.”

His voice gave you chills and you audibly whimpered under him. Steve pressed his leg between your thighs and your body shudder feeling his muscular thigh firmly pressed against your core.

“Fuck,” your voice shook.

“Does that feel good?” he asked mockingly, he knows what he’s doing.

“Yes, Stevie,” you whimpered.

“Fuck, you sound sweet whimpering and shaking under me. Almost feel kinda bad.”

His hand squeezed a bit harder and your body melted into the bed. He leaned down and kissed for the first time. Your eyes opened wide before fluttering closed again wallowing in his kiss. Your hand moved from his forearm to his face cupping it gently and your lips moved against his impeccably. 

His lips faltered and trailed down your throat, his hand pulling your hair gently to move your head back to give him more room. He nipped and bit at your throat hungrily before soothing his marks with his tongue. His hands sneaked up your shirt, his fingertips grazing the skin under your breasts. He could feel the chills that rose all over your skin and he chuckled darkly in your ear. 

“Is this ok?” he asked softly tugging the waistband of your shorts. 

“Yes, please,” you moaned. 

Steve pulled them down little by little pressing kisses to every new part of exposed skin. He littered your hip bones and thighs with light bruises and bites. You were practically dripping in arousal, toes curling under themselves anticipating Steve’s next move.

He stood up at the edge of the bed keeping his eyes trained on yours, slowly unbuckling his belt. He pulled his pants down showing off his very impressive length. He gripped with his hand pumping it softly. He grabbed your ankle with his other hand and pulled you close to the edge of the bed.

“Lay on your stomach, babygirl,” Steve directed.

You eagerly flipped over, pushing your ass up to the air. Steve smiled at your ambition and gently rubbed your cheeks you put up for him. He pumped his cock a few times before lining himself up with you. 

“Fuck, you gonna be my good girl?” he asked seductively.

“Yeah, fuck. Stevie, fuck me good,” you moaned. 

“Open up those pretty legs for me, will ya?” Steve smirked. You spread your legs wider and arched your back more. When Steve finally pushed past your entrance, you felt so full. 

“You gotta breathe baby,” Steve soothed. 

“Sorry, you’re just… so big,” you whimpered.

“I know baby but you're taking my cock so well, you're being such a good fucking girl.”

“Steve!” you squeaked. 

Steve snapped his hips in and out of you rapidly and you couldn’t help the high-pitched moans that escaped your mouth. Steve gripped your hips harshly, forming littles red and purple marks on your hip bones that you’ll have to admire tomorrow morning. 

You gasped and moaned at the feeling of Steve’s cock driving into you and you couldn’t hold back any longer. 

“Stevie, I’m gonna come! Fuck, I can’t hold it. Please daddy let me come!”

“Come on pretty baby, come for daddy. Make a mess all over my cock like a good girl,” he groaned above you.

Your body trembled and your arms fell forward as you nearly screamed Steve’s name in pure ecstasy. You breathed heavily but Steve wasn’t done with you yet. He pulled his still ever hard dick out of you momentarily to rid his shirt. He walked to the side of the bed and sat comfortably with his back against the headboard. 

“Come here baby girl. I know you’re tired but I think you pull one more for me, yeah?” his voice was silky. 

You whimpered and tried your best to sit up all the way, crawling desperately over to Steve. He kissed you softly before slowly pulling the hem of your shirt over your head to expose your breasts fully to him. 

“Fuck, you are just too beautiful, sweetheart,” he whispered in your ear, his voice raspy making your body shudder above him. 

His hands roamed your body; smoothing over your ribs, your hips to your thighs, back to hips against pulling you impossibly closer to him. His lips again just as before nipped and pecked the skin along your neck and collarbones and you could resist the small whimpers you made. 

“Steve,” you moaned.

“I got ya, baby. I’m right here.”

You looked into his lust blown eyes before kissing him messily. Your age divulges your experience but Steve couldn't care less. You lifted your hips for him and he lined himself once again to your entrance. 

Your arousal made it easier this time around and you were able to fully bask in the feeling and pleasure from Steve’s length. You hastily moved your hips around, back and forth, the position completely new to you. You felt erotic and confident and Steve’s kisses and praises did nothing but egg you on. 

“You're doing so good, my love. God, you keep clenching me like that and I’m gonna blow,” he moaned.

“Please, Stevie. I want to make you feel good,” you encouraged.

“You already are, don’t even worry about that,” he smirked.

Your hands gripped at his shoulders hard, nails digging into his pale skin. Your clit rubbed against his pelvis and soon enough you felt another orgasm approaching quickly. As you grew tired, Steve’s hands went to your cheeks and aided you in moving back and forth.

Your arms gave out again and you fell against Steve's torso still thrusting your hips back and forth with his help. The pressure built rapidly in your lower stomach and you couldn’t hold it again. 

“Steve,” you moaned. 

“I know, just hold on, please. I wanna come with you; I’m almost there,” he gasped. 

You held back as long as you but soon enough your body shook against Steve, desperate to release everything you have in you. In an attempt to distract yourself momentarily, you treated Steve the same by nipping and kissing the skin of his neck and shoulder. Your hands combing into his hair, tugging on his short blonde hair. 

“Ok, go ahead babygirl,” he grunted, “Fuck!”

“Ugh, Steve!” you couldn’t help but sink your teeth into his shoulder. Ecstasy waved over you and you feel euphoric. Your body trembled from intensity and Steve whispered soft praises in your ear. His words soothed you and your eyes felt heavy. Steve tracing little patterns on the small of your back did not help your tired case. 

“I gotta clean you up, sweetheart,” Steve whispered, you could hear the smile in his voice.

“No, stay with me, please,” you whined. 

“I promise I’ll be back,” he chuckled.

“Hm,” you huffed.

You slowly rolled off of Steve and he practically ran to your bathroom emerging with a warm wet towel in hand. You laid limply on the bed, your breathing slowly returning to normal. Steve kissed your stomach and hips softly as he cleaned between your thighs gently. He went back to the bathroom and cleaned himself up as well.

“Come back,” you whined, making him chuckle.

“Yay,” you cheered softly when he did.

“Are you ok, sweetheart?” 

“Mh-hm,” you nodded tiredly.

“I freaking love you,” you said, hiking your leg over to lay on top of him again. You nuzzled your nose in the crook of his neck.

“You do?”

“Yeah.” There was a slight moment of pause.

“Do you love me?” your voice crack and tears brimmed your eyes.

“I shouldn’t…” he started. His heart nearly broke when you looked up at him with teary eyes; afraid he would say he didn’t and you fell in love just to get your heart broken.

“But I do,” he finally said.

“Thanks,” you sniffled, making Steve smile.

“I love you, sweetheart,” he kissed the top of your head. 

“I love you too, old man.”

-

The next morning, Steve slipped out of bed while you were still asleep, you looked so beautiful and peaceful. It took everything in him not to just crawl back into bed with you but Steve had a couple things to do and it was already past eight. He promised to himself that he was gonna come back before you wake up.

So he softly closed the door before immediately running around the compound filing paperwork, directing agents and trainees, meeting with Nick Fury, and lastly making breakfast for you and him. Wanda, Bucky, and Sam all sat at the counter eating bowls of cereal watching Steve frantically run around the kitchen making breakfast. 

“What the hell are you doing?” Bucky spoke up. 

“I’m making breakfast,” Steve momentarily stopped to say. 

“Ok, but why are you freaking out like that? You’re running around like a crazy person.”

“I have to make it before-” Steve stopped himself. He didn't know whether or not he should say anything, whether you were comfortable with others knowing yet. 

“What did you do?” Wanda said, smiling like an idiot.

“Nothing, I’m just really hungry and I need to make breakfast before I starve,” he said.

“Really?”  Bucky said.

“Yeah.”

“Where’s Y/n?”

“She’s aslee-” Steve stopped himself again.

The three at the counter bursted into a fit of laughter at Steve’s slip up and he just simply rolled his eyes before finally plating the food and running upstairs. Not without flipping the three still laughing off. 

He slowly opened the door finding you still asleep in bed. He smiled at your beautiful form illuminated by the golden rays of the sun peeking through the curtains. He placed the food on your table before sitting on the bed, his hands softly running up and down your side to slowly wake you. 

Your eyes fluttered open and upon seeing Steve’s gorgeous face you smiled. 

“Good morning, old man,” you grinned cheekily. 

“When are you let that go?” he shook his head.

“Never,” you winked.

“I brought you food, pretty girl.”

“Thank you,” you sat up covering yourself. You ate the food he made for you and made grabby hands for him to cuddle you. He laughed before crawling back into bed with you. You made a face though before he got fully under the covers and he gave a puzzled look.

“What?”

“Why are you all dressed?”

“I had a couple things to do this morning and then I made you breakfast. I couldn’t walk around in my birthday suit,” he laughed.

“Hm, fine. I’ll give you a pass,” you said making him chuckle, “Can you at least take your shirt off again?”

He smiled cheekily before getting up and taking his shirt and pants off leaving him in his boxers. You cheered making him laugh even harder before he dived into bed cuddling you extra close. His strong arms wrapping safely around you and his legs entangling themselves with yours. 

You kissed him one last time before grabbing your TV remote and turning on the TV to watch cartoons.

“You know sometimes you really are a kid,” Steve snickered.

“Yeah grandpa? What about this,” you fluffed his beard that specks of grey hairs.

“Do I need to show my old man moves again?” he smirked.

“Yeah, I think you oughta,” you winked before Steve threw the covers kissing your stomach all the way to your core. You gotta admit, the old man’s got some moves. 

==================

ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ: (For all my work)

@mathletemadison​

@buckybarnes101​

@l-sofiamia-l 

[triplexdoublex]

Sex Drive part 2

Pairings: Colson x Reader, Colson x Reader x Rook Reader x Rook

Warnings/tags: smut, unexpected exhibitionism, threesome, double penetration, anal, choking, hair pulling, mild spitting, humiliation, jealousy, being walked in on

Authors note: Being wet DOES NOT = consent irl, just had to put that out there as it may seen I’m suggesting that in a certain scene, Kells is just saying sexy shit and reader is 100% consenting.

Part 1 here

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

“I knew you wouldn’t be able to go without sex the whole month,” you tease with a giggle as Colson secures his black flag bandana around your eyes from behind you. “Can’t even make it two more weeks, huh?” You tease.

He roughly grips your jaw, turning your head to speak into your ear. “Funny, I don’t remember giving you permission to talk,” he grits through his teeth as he strips your body bare. “Now, walk!” he commands, pushing you forward.

“Oooh where are we going?” You question playfully.

“Don’t worry about it,” he quips, shoving you through the doorway of the adjoining hotel room, unbeknownst to you.

Once inside the room he quickly removes the bandana from your eyes and tosses you down on the bed before you have a chance to view your surroundings.

“Colson?” you push yourself up on your hands confused. “This isn’t our ro — Jesus Christ!” You shriek when you take notice of Rook sitting in an oversized chair in the corner of the room, his elbows resting on his knees with both hands wrapped around the neck of a beer bottle between his legs, his eyes scoping out your naked frame. “What the hell is going on?” You look quizzically between Colson and Rook while clutching a pillow over your exposed body.

Colson looks proud of himself, smirking as he watches your face morph through a series of reds, settling on the brightest. If there was one thing stronger than Colson’s jealousy it was his humiliation kink. He loved the way you blushed and got all shy and flustered whenever you got embarrassed, and he couldn’t think of anything more embarrassing for you than one of his best friends seeing your most intimate areas… and perhaps even touching them — with your permission of course.

“Is someone gonna answer me, what’s going on?” You repeat.

“Well I figured with all the times I’ve caught you checking out Rook I’d give you the opportunity to fuck him.” Colson answers nonchalantly.

“Colson I thought we established I was only checking him out to make you jealous so you’d be more rough with me,” you remind him. ‘Ok maybe the use of the word ‘only’ was stretching the truth a bit,’ you think to yourself. You know damn well that wasn’t the only reason. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t find Rook attractive. “That’s why I’m punished, ‘no dick for a month’ remember?”

“That’s not what I said — I said you’re not getting MY dick for a month. You’re welcome to have Rooks….while I watch of course,” he smirks.

As if that was his cue, Rook stands and walks over towards you. He places his half drunken beer on the nightstand and takes a seat at the foot of the bed.

You swear your heart stops beating for a full ten seconds before you can form words. “Have you gone insane!? You want me to fuck Rook...while you watch?” You question in shock, certain he has lost his damn mind.

“Well, I mean, you’re free to say no… but let’s be honest, we both know that you won’t,” Colson sits on the bed next to you and snatches the pillow covering you from your grasp. “Just look at that pussy, glistening!” He prys your legs open to show Rook just how much the whole idea already has you absolutely dripping. “Now does this look like the pussy of a girl who’s about to say no?” he runs a finger through your slick folds gathering your arosal and turns to Rook who just bites his lip and shakes his head.

There’s no hiding the fact that you want this, you’re more shocked at how into it Colson seems, but he’s right, you certainly weren’t gonna say no.

“Don’t be shy, come have a taste Rookie,” Colson taunts holding out his glossed finger. Rook moves further up the bed, opposite colson, one boy now on each side of you. He leans in and extends his tongue curling it around the silken thread of your excitement stringing from Colson’s finger, and pulls it into his mouth.

“Whatcha think bro, how she taste?”

“Mmmm, fuck! Amazing actually!” Rook exclaims, smacking his tongue against his lips, savoring your essence. “No word of a lie bro, some of the best pussy I’ve ever tasted, ya lucky bastard.”

“Yeah?” Colson’s chuckles at his enthusiasm. “Well help me get her warmed up a little, then she’s all yours,” he says gently stroking your clit. “Although she clearly doesn’t need it,” he jokes, amused by how wet you are. “But something tells me she’ll enjoy both of us playing with her for a bit. Ain’t that right baby?” He smirks, looking at you.

“Please,” you squirm under Colson’s touch and the anticipation of Rooks.

Slowly Rook begins trailing the tips of his fingers up your inner thigh, inching closer to where to want it most before finally joining Colson’s. They join forces , sandwiching your clit between both of their fingertips as they work you methodically.

“Oh, fuck,” your voice shakes, a cocktail of nerves and pleasure coursing through you. As good as it feels and as much as you want it , you can’t help but be a little anxious, it’s been a long time since anyone but Colson has seen you naked never mind touching you like this. “You two are gonna be the death of me,” you moan breathily arching your back up off the bed.

“Relax slut, this just the beginning” Colson leans in, his warm breath ghosting over your nipples as he glides his fingers down to your entrance. He easily slips in two of them, the cool metal of his rings bumping against your warm heat with every curl of his fingers; Rook now having solo reign over your clit. Colson’s free hand grips your breast, his thumb and forefinger tugging at your nipple, before taking it into his mouth. Rook follows suit attaching his mouth to your opposite breast, making sure to leave soft violet markings in his wake, claiming you, if only for the night.

“Alright, I’ll let you take over from here,” Colson says to Rook, slipping his fingers out of you. “Be a good girl for Rook,” he grips your chin smearing your juices along your jawline before retreating to the oversized chair in the corner, where he begins palming himself through his jeans. And like a shark to blood, Rook is drawn to your scent, his mouth moving up your chest, and neck, devouring your slick remnants with open mouthed kisses, while he continues to massage the sweet spot between your thighs.

“You taste so good,” he smiles against your mouth before kissing you. His tongue prods at your lips , begging for entrance. You part your pout welcoming him inside; your tongues beginning a do-si-do. He feels so foreign in your mouth; taboo in the best way.

“Yeah?” You break the kiss. “Why don’t you taste it straight from the source,” you say seductively.

“Yes ma’am. Don’t gotta tell me twice,” Rook smirks before disappearing between your thighs.

“Now we’re getting somewhere!” Colson chides from the corner of the room, freeing himself from the confines of his bulging jeans. Slowly, he strokes himself in rhythm with Rooks tongue fucking in and out of you, watching as he gathers your sweetness on his tastebuds.

“Mmmmm, God—“ Rook huffs in unbelievable enjoyment against your core, before attaching his lips snugly around your clit, providing it with gentle pulsating suction. It’s different than you’re used to — Kells being more of the rapid tongue flicking type— but damn, if it doesn’t feel equally as good.

“Uhh, yes! Just like that, Rook. Don’t stop!” You exclaim in pleasure; one hand gripping the sheets, the other the back of Rooks neck.

Hearing you say Rook’s name like that has Colson squeezing his cock harder and faster, his jealousy unintentionally tightening his grip. He’s enjoying watching you be pleasured but can’t curb feeling possessive, in fear that perhaps you’re enjoying this a little TOO much.

“I still... Mmm...can’t… get over… how good you taste,” Rook speaks between open-mouth kisses to your tenderness. “I swear I could eat you as my last meal,”

“Dawg, keep talking to my fucking girl like that and it WILL be your last meal,” Colson half jokes, his jealousy peaking for sure — now beating his dick as if it were Rook. “How ‘bout you just shut up and fuck her now, before I change my mind.”

“Ready?” Rook questions with a smirk ,from between your thighs.

“Ready!” You squirm impatiently, already missing the contact of his tongue .

Quickly, Rook strips off his leather vest and other clothing until he’s completely naked. Just as he’s about to get settled between your legs Colson pipes up again from the corner.

“Baby I want you to ride him, lemme see those titties and ass bounce for me while you fuck yourself on his dick.”

“Mmmm hell yeah! I wanna see too,” Rook says excitedly, moving to lay on his back; arms behind his head.

“You’re pushing it Rook!” Colson warns.

“Baby, chill,” you giggle at how flustered Colson’s getting. “I know this pussy only belongs to you,” you turn facing him, spreading yourself open. Colson groans at the sight, his eyes momentarily slipping shut as he tries not to bust right there. “Besides—,” you smirk. “This was your idea.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah C’mon… less talking, more fucking,” Colson orders.

You climb over Rook who’s waiting with cock in hand pointed towards the heavens and squat over him, hovering just above the tip before sinking down to the hilt with a moan. You push back up, and come down fast, your skin echoing off Rooks with a slap.

“Ugh fuck!,” Rook sits halfway up to mouth at your breasts and neck as you continue to bounce in his lap.

You turn your head back slightly to watch Colson, his teeth sunken deep into his bottom lip, eyes so intensely glued to every roll of your hips, and his hips thrusting up to fuck into his own palm. You turn back to Rook and pick up the pace riding him harder and faster knowing Colson’s close to finishing. You don’t know what burns more the desire inside of you or your thighs, but you don’t stop, determined to make both men and yourself cum at any moment now.

“Oh, Rook!” You cry out with your head thrown back and hands planted firmly on his tattooed chest. You’re so so close.

“Ahww, shit, you gonna cum?” Rook questions out of breath. “Me too.”

Just then the hotel door clicks open “Hey, Rook have you seen Kel— WHAT THE FUCK!!” Exclaims Slim completely caught off guard by what he’s seeing, bringing you and Rook to a halt. “Girl, I know you think it’s cute to make Kells jealous and shit so he’ll choke or whatever crazy shit you’re into but you took it took it too far this time, cuz Kells about to choke both you to DEATH when he finds out.”

“Yo! Why the fuck does everyone keep talking when I’m tryna cum?” Colson yells annoyed and on the edge from the corner of the room.

“Kells???” Slim questions peering around the door. “Da fuck is going on in here? Ya know what, second thought, I don’t wanna know. I— I’m just… I’m just gonna go,” Slim states in utter shock and confusion as he backs out the door.

“Good idea, try fucking knocking next time maybe? Rook shouts after him.

“Fuck, my legs are killing me!” You huff as soon as you hear the door click shut, shifting your weight onto your knees. Immediately, Rook takes over, snapping his hips up and into you from below.

“Aye, I can’t take this shit no more my hands about to fucking fall off, lemme get in there,” Colson says getting up from the chair and kicking off his jeans and boxers. He tugs his shirt over his head and climbs behind you on the bed. He spits in his hand ,coating his cock with his saliva, then brings the tip to the only hole not currently occupied: your ass. You’re no stranger to anal; it is Colson’s favorite afterall. You welcome the penetrating stretch as he pushes in. It’s slightly awkward at first as the boys figure out and establish a rhythm that works for all three of you. Their cocks pound in and out of you in unison; one in each hole, providing you with the most pleasurable, satisfying fullness. “Unh, baby so fucking good for us. Taking it so well,” Colson praises you through gritted teeth . “You like being a little whore for us like this, huh? Rook fucking your pussy while I fuck this ass?” He asks crudely with a hardy slap to your backside.

“I fucking love it — YES! Treat me like a fucking whore!” You exclaim in wild passion, as you teeter on the edge of orgasm.

“Oh we’ll treat you like a whore alright!” Colson speaks through his groans, grabbing a fistful of your hair using it as leverage to pound into you harder.

With your head yanked back in Colson’s grasp, Rook takes advantage of the unoccupied column of flesh above him, wrapping his hand tightly around your throat. The way both boys have you feeling like a used plaything has you cumming in seconds, riding out wave after wave. The noise they make as you clench around them both is like heaven; Rook’s slightly louder and high pitched than Colson’s deep throaty rumble. They cum almost in perfect time with eachother; with Colson just a few seconds sooner, filling your ass with his warmth, as Rook pulls out, busting his load up onto your stomach. The three of you collapse into a sticky sweaty mess, both boys rolling to your sides; the air thick with heavy breathing and the smell of sex.

The way Rook looks completely spent and fucked out of his mind is hilariously adorable; still trying desperately to catch his breath, his leg visibly twitching and shaking and his hand running through his sweaty hair with a ‘did that really just happen?’ expression on his face .

“You ok there buddy?” Colson’s laughs, reaching over you to give Rook’s arm a tap with the back of his hand. Colson’s used to having crazy sex with you by now.

“Umm ...I think so.” He releases a long winded breath followed by a brief chuckle.

“You know what my favorite part about this was?” You turn to Colson. “I broke you!!” You tease.”Not only did I get Rook’s dick but I got yours too! Slim was right when he said you wouldn’t last through my punishment with your sex drive!”

“For the record, I said you weren’t gonna get my dick in your PUSSY, for a month. Now correct me if I’m wrong but wasn’t that your ass I just fucked? Nice try, you’re still punished.”

*******

Tag list: @dannyboy-trash (won’t let me tag you) , @famousobservationfan @blxxdyvalentine19xx

[wwilloww]

backstage | myg

Pairing: Idol!Yoongi x Reader

Genre:  Smut.

Rating: Explicit.  

WC: 4.2k

Summary: With the sounds of the stadium still ringing in his ears, Yoongi just needs to get away — just for a moment. And you have exactly the right idea about how to distract him.

Warnings: bathroom sex. oral (m receiving). implicit themes of powerplay. dirty talk. mild hair pulling. throat fucking. super duper like barely visible breathplay. penetrative sex. unprotected sex (don’t be a silly goose!! wrap it before ya tap it!). themes of exhibitionism. creampie. cumplay. mentions of group sex.

AN: What was supposed to be a simple 1k of smut turned into 4k of… more smut. What originally started as a challenge to write a bj in a way I enjoyed turned into 4k of a bj that I really enjoyed. I have to give 1 million baskets of thanks to Renae @mygsii​ and Lil @hesperantha​ for being the most incredible beta readers out there. They put so much time and energy into this and helped me sculpt this into its final version. And of course, thank you to the crew at BTS Smut Hub for their eternal thirst and support. Ya keep me going. 

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©️wwilloww Do not repost, translate, or use my stories without my permission. 

Backstage

Yoongi sighs, letting his eyes fall shut as he leans back against the door. The sound of the screaming crowd still rings in his ears, muffling the sounds of the world around him. He can still feel the rhythm and vibration of tonight’s music reverberating through his bones. If anything, the combination of exhaustion and overstimulation should have left him dead to the world. But instead every nerve in his body is alight, singing in sensitivity.

He’d needed air away from the post-concert bustle. The smallest details were grating on his nerves, even when they should have been insignificant, unnoticeable. He’d been so busy lately, no time for the things that actually brought him pleasure. He needed to get away, just for a moment.

With one hand tangled in your hair, the other gripping the doorknob, he looks down at you. All he can think is that he’d never seen anything quite so angelic. Your eyes turned devotedly up to him, lashes fluttering so sweetly — you could be sucking on a lollipop.

“God, you look so fucking cute sucking my dick.”

The timbre of his voice resonates through you, going straight to your cunt. The tight pout you have around him turns up as you try not to smile, mouth full of cock.

“You couldn’t fucking wait until we got home before you needed cock? Are you that desperate?”

You answer with your eyes, a mischievous glint sparking through them.

He had been stealing glances at you the whole night, searching the darkness of the wings for your familiar figure. Every swell and curve of your body was so familiar to him now that he swore he could have spotted you even if you were lost in the masses of the audience. What would it have been like for you to be out there, your eyes locking together? Hunting through a sea of searching hands to find your undeniable steadiness and gleaming presence. There’s a part of him that thinks that even with the lights blinding him and the unending wave of faces that he would know you were out there, would be able to feel your company.

Still, he chased your gaze in the crowd of stage hands and stylists and technicians. You were hidden away, watching him perform from a small break in the stage. The whole night you had watched, aptly glancing between the performance screen and the small crack, just waiting for Yoongi to pop into view on your small sliver of sight. And everytime he did, you couldn’t help but glow, a smile pouring across your face and lighting up your entire being.

You’d seen him rehearse, of course. You’d seen him perform in front of cameras and studio audiences and at awards shows. But this was different. There was an extra sharpness to his movements, a force behind his voice. The energy of the audience was undeniable and you knew it pushed him forward to perform the best you’d ever seen him perform.

You grabbed his hand almost immediately after he had stepped off stage, wrapping him in a tight hug.

“I’m so proud of you,” you mumbled into his chest. You held him there in silence, heart full of awe and admiration. It was a moment before you looked up to see a stylist just standing there, still holding a towel to his face. You quickly apologized to her, as she continued to try to pat the sweat off of his face. Technicians and staff and members bustled around, everyone jostling into one another. Even as you held his hand, he looked lost. As you watched, you noticed frustration flit across his face, saw his slip into stubbornness as she continued to do her job. You’d seen this look before and knew it well: overload.

In a snap decision, you tugged him away without explanation to the woman still dabbing his forehead or any of the members busting around him, mumbling “Come with me.” You left the poor stylist stuttering and flustered behind you as you dragged him— much to his protest— to the closest single bathroom.

Slamming the door shut, you turned him around so he was leaning against the frame.  

“Are you okay?” you asked softly.

He nodded, leaning into your touch as you reached up to hold his face between your hands. You let your thumbs run over the pink of his cheeks until you saw the frustration dissipate from his features. You knew he was tired. Knew he was riding the high of the concert. Knew he was stuck somewhere between excitement and overwhelm. As soon as the crease in his brow softened, you pressed a kiss to his lips. Light, fluttering. Just enough to ground the both of you.

“What did you think?” he asked when you pulled back, searching your eyes.

“You’re amazing.”

“Everyone did so well tonight, I was—”

“No. You’re amazing.” you repeated. “You.”

He began to reach for your lips again, that heavy-lidded look that you loved so much taking over his features. But instead of taking him into your embrace, you pushed him back against the door, his back hitting the solid wood with a slight thud.

“Let me,” you said, swatting away his wandering hands. “Hands off.” You stepped back, letting your hand wander up the warm skin of your arm until you reached the strap of your dress, teasing it between your fingers. “You’re frustrated. And you’ve been working so hard. Don’t you think you’ve earned something for all of your efforts?”

You watched him swallow, his adam’s apple bobbing. Ever-so-slowly, you began to slide the soft fabric down your body, taking your sweet time as you did so. Even as your attentions were focused on dragging out this moment as long as possible — making him wait for you — your gaze was focused on his features. His every movement. The way his eyes darkened, his head tilting down to better gaze upon you, his jaw dropping ever so slightly as he watched on. As the dress came down to your hips, you let go and it pooled around your ankles.

Delicately, you stepped over it and towards the dazed man in front of you.

“No bra?” he gulped. You shook your head as he swallowed and righted himself, his voice dropping as he spoke.  “You walked around all night with nothing on, but that tiny piece of fabric underneath that dress?”

“Mhmm,” you hummed, walking towards him. “Just for you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“Would you really have been able to focus on stage — thinking about me, like this, just waiting for you?”

He reached for you then, rather than answering you, but you pushed his hands away and slid to your knees before him. You made quick work of unbuckling his belt, not bothering to pull his pants down before you pulled his already-hard cock out of his boxers.

“How long have you been hard?” you asked, slowly stroking him, watching the way his cock twitched in your hand.

“For the past hour.”

“Good.” You smirked up at him before opening your mouth just enough that he could see your pink tongue. “Then use me.” He sucked a harsh breath in. With one hand still wrapped around his length, you leaned closer and let the head rest heavy on your tongue.

Seeing you like this, so perfectly laid out for him, feeling the cushiony softness of your tongue against the base of his cock, Yoongi couldn’t help but groan, his hips thrusting involuntarily towards you.

You’d had enough teasing. You had wrapped your lips around him and took him into your mouth.

He fell apart beneath your touch.

And now you slowly slide down his length, taking as much of him into the wet warmth of your mouth as possible. He watches as your lips wrap even tighter around him, the perfect mix of pout and absolute devastation. You swirl your tongue against the bottom of his cock to the best of your ability as you bob up and down on him.

He groans. Loudly. Loud enough that you hear a muffled “What the fuck was that?” on the other side of the door.

Your sharp inhale of breath, still wrapped around him, catches his attention.

“You like knowing that someone out there knows I’ve got my cock down your throat, don’t you?”

The sharpness of his words sends a shock straight through your body. You nod to the best of your ability. Other than the hand he has in your hair, you hadn’t let him touch you all night — and because of that you are left overly sensitive to his every word, his every touch.

“Good girl.”

Cunt clenching involuntarily at the words, you’re thankful you left your panties on, knowing you’d be dripping down your thighs by now if you had opted to take them off.

Usually, you would take it slow. Torture his orgasm out of him like it was something to be built towards, drawn out. But tonight you are chasing his pleasure, watching every little fold in his brow, noticing every moment his grip in your hair tightened, feeling every time his clothed thighs tensed beneath your grasp.

He’s still dressed in his last outfit of the concert. His brow glistens with sweat. The flush on his face is a mixture of the remnants of his performance and the pleasure you were currently coaxing from him.

“Fuck my mouth, baby,” you say, pulling off of his cock long enough to let the words slip out. A trail of saliva connects your swollen lips to the head of his dick, red and darkened with his near-painful arousal.

“How can you be so adorable and say such filthy things?”

It was more of a muse than an actual question. He loved your duality. Your ability to flirt and play so innocently out in public, and then flip a switch as soon as the door was closed. And not just the bedroom door, he thinks. Any door, apparently.

He is quick to press his hand to the back of your neck to pull you back to his crotch, the head of his cock bumping up against your cheek. He quickly wraps a hand around the base, teasing your searching lips with the bulbous head. You chase him, whining when he chuckles. It isn’t until you look up to him, a serious pout falling across your lips that he finally feeds it to you.

You take him in one go, the tip of his cock bumping against the back of your throat. It hits just hard enough that you gag. He tries to slow his motions—to pull back— but you blink away your tears and glance up at him, before pushing down further, knowing you could take it, knowing you want to take it.

A choked moan slips out of him as you ease him into your throat, the tightness of your pulsing walls sending stars through his body. Hands gripping his thighs like they were the only things in the world, you begin to pulse back and forth. When you look up at him, he is gazing down at you, that mix of power and desire that you so love dancing in his eyes.

You release him from your throat, gasping hoarsely.

“Is that all you can take?” He slips both of his hands into your hair where they tangle with your thick locks. The hardness of his many rings presses against your scalp, offered a startling contrast to the strength of his hands and the gentle tug of your hair. He waits for a moment, gauging your unyielding eye contact to make sure you could. As soon as he recognizes that spark in your eyes and feels your hands squeeze twice around him—your signal of consent—he’s  moving again, easing his thick cock back into you.

He pushes fully into your mouth, a deep graveled groan ripping through his chest as the tightness of your throat wraps around him. Beginning to thrust, he tightens his grip in your hair, bobbing your head to his own pace. You do your best to relax the muscles in your neck and throat, to erase everything but the sensation of the man you love fucking in and out of your mouth.

His pace is perfect, not too fast, not too slow. You feel the head of his cock push past your uvula and into your throat. With one hand, you reach up, your hand coming to wrap around your own throat.

Beneath the sensitive skin of your hand, you feel his tip bulging through the delicate skin with each thrust and you groan at the sensation. He shudders at the reverberations of your voice, pulsing through him. There’s something wild, indescribably dirty, to the feeling of his cock through your skin, to feeling him chasing his orgasm from inside and outside you at the same time. His nails scrape deliciously against your scalp as you continue to moan around him, the vibrations of your pleasure coursing through his cock and straight up his spine.

“Take all of it, baby,” he grunts, and you know he’s close to his release. Your hand tightens around your throat, tears springing to your eyes, drool dripping down your chin.

As Yoongi looks down on you—mascara running and mouth sloppy with a mix of your drool and his precum—arousal sears through his body. The absolute devotion in your eyes pushes him further towards the edge.

Tonight was supposed to be about you, too. Even though you had been around the other guys for months now, this was your first stadium concert, your chance to really step into his world— and yet here you are on your knees in a backstage bathroom with a very thin door, just for him.

What had he ever done to deserve someone like you?

He thrusts his hips forward into your waiting mouth, earning a delighted moan from you. He is so close— so close to his release, so close to pouring himself out down your warm, waiting throat. That unmistakable warmth sears through his abdomen, pulling him closer, drawing him nearer to— he feels your hand tap gently twice against his thigh, your tell for him to release you.

He stops immediately, gripping his cock as he pulls out of the confines of your throat and untangles his grip from your hair. He drops to his knees before you, reaching for you. His thumb brushes over the streams of mascara off of your cheeks.

“You alright, love?” The dominating tone is gone now, concern in its place.

You smile at him, coming to place your hand over the one that cupped your cheek. It’s a sweet, loving gesture — and you sigh into it — but all sense of sweetness is broken by your next words.  

“I need you to fuck me.”

“I— uh, what? Are you sure?”

“I need you to fuck me,” you repeat, seriously. “I can’t believe you would think I could go without your cock all night — that I could walk out of here without your cum dripping down my legs.” You pout.

Just like that, he’s pulling you to your feet and spinning you around so that your waist hits the cold marble of the sink. With absolute control, he runs his hand up your spine until it reaches the middle and he pushes, adding a delicious arch to your back.

He is quick to line himself up with your sopping entrance, pulling the fabric of your panties to the side so he can slide the head of his cock through your dripping folds.

“Did sucking my cock make you this wet?” You whine, pushing back on him, desperate to feel him fill you. He clucks his tongue. “You’re so eager to please, maybe I should just shove my cock right back down your throat and take my own pleasure.”

“Noo,” you whine wantonly. “Need you.” You look up at the pair of you in the mirror. Your eyes are dark and filled with lust, face stained with mascara and remnants of his fucking. You are bare naked, minus the thin straps of your panties. Behind you, Yoongi stands fully clothed, his belt unbuckled just enough for him to grip his cock and hold it against you. The top button of his shirt has come undone, revealing a sheen of sweat. But it’s his face, the look he wears, that captures you.

Pure, unadulterated adoration dresses his features as he meets your gaze in the mirror.

He hooks a finger under your panties, pulling them to the side, and runs a thumb over your entrance. Your back arches at the touch, having denied yourself for so long.

Without warning, he presses the head of his cock to your entrance and begins to slide in.

Getting him off had always been a practice in edging yourself. You’d learned this over the months you’d spent with the beautiful man behind you. The more you saw his pleasure unravel before you, the more pleasure you felt. It didn’t matter if you weren’t particularly interested in whatever it was you were doing — you were interested in him. So as his thick girth begins to fill you, the new sensation bursts through your senses, searing your cunt with pleasure.

You let loose a whine, one that feels like it was pulled from the depths of your abdomen. Primal. Wanting. “Yoongi,” you gasp.

“What the fuck is going on in there?!” You hear someone call from the other side of the door, but you choose to ignore them, instead turning your attention to pushing back on Yoongi’s cock.

“Did you lock the door?” you pant.

“No — did you?”

“No.” He turns to lock it, but you stop him, reaching behind you to grab his arm. 

“Leave it. Just fuck me, please.”

He grins at you in the mirror. “Fuck,” he hisses. “You like the idea of someone walking in on you?” You groan, your cunt clenching around him at his words. “To see you split open on my cock, moaning my name like only I can make you?”

“Yes,” you choke out as he rams into you especially hard. “Wan’ them to know.”

“To know what?”

“That you’re mine.”

Yoongi swivels his hips against yours, drawing a particularly loud moan from you.

“Fuck.”

“Touch yourself,” he growls. “Make yourself come on my cock.”

You whimper, your body shaken by his relentless thrusts. Still, you reach down, fingers drifting over the sensitive bundle of nerves.

Yoongi continues to rail into you, his hips grinding in a slight circle each time he bottoms out. Even as your breath hitches in your throat as you begin your ministrations on your clit — slow circles, building in strength and speed — all you can think about iss the way he bit his lip as he looked down on you. The way his brow furrowed in delicious concentration like you were the only thing worth paying attention to in the world.

He adjusts his grip on your hips, his long fingers pressing into your abdomen. You know there will be bruises there tomorrow.

The new grip allows him to thrust up into you with a new viciousness.

“Fuck, princess, you’re so tight around me.”

The glaze in his eyes tells you he is close to his release and so you increase your pace, the sensation of his cock pounding into you and the calculated swirl of your fingers building the perfect tension.

“Ah, fuck, gonna cum,” Yoongi hisses.

“Cum inside,” you beg.

He groans at your words. You want him as deep within you as you could possibly get him. Want him on you, in you, surrounding you.

With one final thrust, he wraps his arms around you, pressing his clothed torso to your bare back. He thrusts shallowly a couple times before a thin groan resonates through his chest and you can feel his cock twitch within you, painting your walls with his cum.

With a cry, you feel the watery band of pleasure snap inside of you. You fall forward, catching yourself on your elbows as you feel Yoongi’s hand drift down to your clit, circling you through your pleasure.

His breath is heavy, shakey against your back. The two of you stay like that for a while, just breathing together.

Yoongi pulls out, tucking himself back into his pants. He begins to reach for one of the hand towels in the stack but you hold your hand out.

“Keep it in,” you whisper. His eyes shoot up to yours. With a slight grin, he pulls your panties back over your cunt, sealing his cum inside you. With a playful tap to your still-sensitive mound, he stands, hands pressed into your hips.

“You’re gonna keep that inside for me, hm?” he murmurs into your ear, the brush of his words raising goosebumps on your skin. “You’re gonna walk around all night with my cum still inside of you. You’re gonna leave it in until we get back to the hotel and I can fuck it out of you again.”

Your eyes widen as you looked at Yoongi.

If he keeps talking like that, you’d be ready to go again in a minute. And judging by the semi he was sporting, he would be too.

You giggle to yourself as you pull your dress back on. Yoongi has finished dressing and now stands, facing the mirror, picking through his hair as he continues to steal glances at you. You are glad you brought your purse into the bathroom. You reach in to pull out a pack of makeup removers. Just as you are about to dab away the mix of tears and mascara from your cheeks, you feel Yoongi’s fingers wrap around your wrist.

“Here,” he says softly. “Let me.”

You smile at the man, a pink flush still painting his cheeks. Ever so gently he wipes away the black makeup from your face, taking his time to make sure he doesn’t pull at your skin or miss a spot.

“All done,” he says, tossing the wipe into the trash can. “Good as new.”

You turn back to the mirror. Makeupless, fuck evident, but good enough.

“Thanks babe,” you say, pulling him tight against you and kissing him lightly. Your tongue skates over the pink swell of his lower lip, but the kiss remains light and playful. He sighs into you, his hand running up your back.

“I love you,” he mumbles against your lips before stepping back. “Ready?”

“Ready.”

Yoongi reaches for the doorknob.

“Oh!” You can feel your mixed cum beginning to leak out of your cunt and run down your leg. You snap your legs together, impulsively reaching out to Yoongi to grasp onto his arm as a nervous laugh bursts out of you.

“What—” His eyes flicker downwards to where a rivulet of white shines on the skin of your inner thigh. The dress you wore tonight is short, and leaves little to the imagination. But the image of his, his cum running down your inner thigh has him swallowing hard, his hand coming into a fist as his heart jumps into his throat.

Your eyes are large, blinking up at him as his hand comes down to rest on your waist. Ever-so-slowly, he kneels before you, eyes level with your hips. Gently, he pushes your leg aside so your thighs are no longer clenched together and rolls the hem of your dress up.

“Wha—”

“Shh,” he hushes you.

Looking up at you, he leans in. His pink tongue darts out between swollen lips and he presses it to the inside of your leg. You gasp at the warmth. In the afterglow of your orgasm, your whole body sings with sensitivity.

Slowly, deliberately, he licks up the trail of his own come, collecting the white substance into his mouth. You nearly groan at the sight. When he reaches your panties, he closes his mouth and swallows, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh before rising to his feet. You run a hand through his hair, tugging him to you. As he kisses you, you can taste the mix of both of your juices on his tongue and you press deeper into the salty taste.

“We should go back,” Yoongi murmurs against you. “Before anyone thinks we’ve gone missing.” He chuckles in your hair, finally unlocking the door.

Jimin stands there, his mouth agape.

“Why do you always have to be so fucking loud?” he asks with a scowl, shaking the shock out of his eyes. “Like great, we all know you have a killer sex life, do you have to rub it in our faces too?” he grumbles.

You chuckle, pulling your friend into a side hug.

“Maybe next time you should join us, and we can do something about that bruised ego of yours.” You wink at Yoongi, feeling his hand settle heavy on your lower back as you rejoin the sway of the crowd.

“Maybe,” he growls into your ear. He pulls you tight against him as he smirks at Jimin.

taglist: @thatmultifandomhoe​ @spicykoreantatertots​@usuallynervoussheep​@hesperantha​ @myimaginationsrunningwild​​ @ot7always​​ @thatlongspringnight​​ @ladyartemesia​ @ppersonna​ @ezralia-writes​

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[doyouevenshipbr0]

gruvia drabble

author’s note: ok. hi. here we are again. i go on a 1948392 year hiatus and then become inspired to write something from the most RANDOM thing. but this was too good to pass up. so essentially i saw a headcannon by @incorrect-ft-ez-quotes and then @bbygirljuvi added onto it:) look at my most recent reblog for reference if u want hehehe. yeah ok maybe i did add some bs healing abilities to juvia’s powers... sue me! ok here we gooooo i hope u cuties enjoy!!!

*

“Popsicle,” Natsu sighed. “What the hell are you doin’ back here?” He held his door in one hand as he stared at a recently familiar face.

“What, a guy can’t stop by and visit his best friend?” Gray nervously chuckled.

Happy and Natsu weren’t buying it, exchanging suspicious looks as Gray impatiently stood at the door frame.

“Best friend?” Natsu rose an eyebrow.

“And for the 4th day in a row?” Happy jabbed, hovering beside Natsu’s head

“Would ya’ just let me in?” Gray spat out, clearly looking jittery.

“Fine.” Natsu groaned, stepping aside so Gray could step in.

“But we’re gonna’ start charging rent!” Happy exclaimed.

“Whatever, I don’t care, just as long as I can hang out here for a little while.” Gray hustled in, plopping himself onto Natsu’s worn down couch.

“Ok, you can stay here on one condition, tell me what it is you’re freaking out about. And gimme’ the real reason you’ve been comin’ here.” Natsu folded his arms.

“Aye!” Happy mimicked Natsu, crossing his little paws.

Gray let out a groan, bowing his head between his legs before whipping his head back up. “It’s Juvia, ok!?”

“Juvia?” Happy asked.

“But, you haven’t tried avoiding her in forever. You guys have been all buddy-buddy lately.” Natsu was trying to piece this all together in his head.

Gray blushed, averting his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I guess you could say that.”

“So what’s the deal?” Natsu was doing his best to get straight to the point, as nuance was not his strong suit.

“W-well... we... kind of... sort of...” Gray scratched at the back of his head, searching for the gall to say it. “We got drunk the other night at the guild, and then I went to walk her home since she was pretty wasted, and...one thing lead to another and... we almost kissed.”

Natsu was as confused as ever. “So?”

“So?!”

“Well, don’t ya’ like her?”

“W-well-!” Gray stammered, and gave out a defeated sigh, bowing his head again. “Yeah.” He mumbled to the point that Natsu or Happy could barely hear him.

“So then why don’t you wanna’ smooch her?” Happy was almost as dense as Natsu.

“Gah! You guys don’t get it!” Gray sprung up. “Forget it. I’m gonna’ find a new hiding spot. Preferably, one that asks less questions.”

Just as Gray made his way to Natsu’s front door, there was a sudden knock. Gray froze in his tracks as a chill went up his spine. He had a knack for this sort of thing, knowing when Juvia’s around, and that chill only ever meant one thing.

“Shit.”

Gray needed an escape route, but his head wasn’t on straight. He frantically scoured the little house, looking from wall to wall, but there was only one door, and Gray was just feet away from it.

“Natsu, whatever you do, don’t-“

“Be there in a sec’!” Natsu shouted at the door.

“You idiot!” Gray whisper yelled.

Natsu opened the door to none other than Juvia. She was known for her expressive nature. The look on her face could tell you anything you want to know, without her having to say a word.

“Hi, Natsu-san.” Juvia said both frantically and nervously. “Juvia was just wondering if Gray-sama was here.” She held her hands together promptly, hoping that he would be there.

“Actually Gray-“ Natsu was cut off at the sound of shattering glass. He instinctively spun around to a disastrous scene, displaying a broken window, shards of glass everywhere, and no Gray to be found. “Just left.” Natsu finished the thought differently than he originally intended.

Juvia heard the shattering too, and she had her answer. Her Gray-dar never failed her. Using her Gray-dar she quickly scurried to the back of the house, crossing her fingers that Gray hadn’t gotten away yet. The first thing she heard was a hiss of pain, and as she turned the corner, there sat her Gray in the ground, holding his bloody knee.

“Son of a bitch!” Gray yelled in pain, applying more pressure to his cut knee. Sure, he was used to getting beaten to a pulp in a fight, but he wasn’t exactly expecting a busted up knee right about now.

“Gray-sama!” Juvia’s eyes widened at the blood, and she hurried to his side.

Gray finally realized her presence. He stopped writhing in pain for a moment, and tried to appear as casual as usual. “Oh...” He forced a laugh. “Hey Juvia. what are you doin’ here?”

“Juvia should be asking you the same thing.” She knelt by Gray’s side. “But first, let Juvia help.”

“I’m fine.”

“Let Juvia see it, Gray-sama.”

He sighed, giving in and releasing his hold. Juvia quickly took her hands and placed them on Gray’s knee. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and suddenly her hands became water, but it wasn’t normal water. It was soothing, and it was making the stinging in Gray’s knee go away.

“Juvia has been working on some healing techniques. It’s nothing like Wendy, but I can heal some minor, surface-level things.” She explained, using her water hands to massage the area.

“Now that Juvia has finally caught you, why have you been avoiding me?” She finally looked at Gray who blushed at the sudden eye contact.

“I haven’t.” Gray tried to sound as natural as possible.

All Juvia had to do was give him a look that practically screamed “oh, please.” before he cracked. “Ok, fine. I’ve been avoiding you.”

“Juvia knows!” She exclaimed.

“I just don’t want things to be awkward between us!” He explained.

“But you don’t think avoiding me for days would make it awkward?” Juvia finally finished his knee and reverted her hands back to normal.

Gray groaned. “You’re right.” He ran his hand through his hair, trying to hide his face.

“Is this about... the other night?” Juvia finally asked.

“Do ya’ really have to even ask?” Gray avoided eye contact.

“But Juvia thought the night went well! I had a lot of fun!”

“So did I! Until...” He cut himself off.

“Until we almost kissed?” Juvia finished it for him.

“Yeah.”

“I see.” Juvia paused. “Are Juvia’s lips chapped?”

“Huh?” He finally peaked up at her.

“Or did Juvia have something in her teeth maybe?” She was going into panic mode.

“No that’s not-“

Juvia cut him off with as gasp, and her hands slapped against her mouth. “Or does Juvia’s breath stink?! Is that it?!”

“Would you knock it off!” Gray finally stopped her. “It doesn’t have to do with any of that stuff.

“Oh.” Juvia sunk. “So Gray-sama just does not want to kiss Juvia then.”

“No!” He instantly cut off that thought, even though he was embarrassed by how eager he sounded. “Not that either.” He grumbled.

“Then..?”

“We were drunk. Yes, we were having fun and all, but, I dunno’.” Gray grumbled, looking for the right words. “We haven’t had our first kiss yet. So when we do, I want it to be... kinda’... special. I guess. In a way.” Gray finished with some filler words to try and take the heat away from his face, but it was no use.

“S-s-special?! Gray-sama wants our kiss to be special?!” Juvia lit up, almost freezing in time waiting for someone to pinch her, because she figured this had to be a dream. However, she still was a bit lost, so she put a pause on her momentary fantasy. “Wait, so then why have you been avoiding me?”

“Because I didn’t know how to tell you all that. I was trying to buy some time until I could figure out what to say.” Gray released a deep exhale. “But I guess I’ve said it all now.”

“You sure have.” Juvia said giddily right before she launched herself at Gray, tightly clutching Gray’s shoulders in her arms as her cheek was pressed up firmly against his.

“Gah!” Gray shouted in surprise, trying to keep his balance as Juvia leeched onto him. They were still sitting, but she almost knocked him flat on his back.

“But you know what, Gray-sama?” Juvia broke her clutch, making sure she was looking right at Gray.

“What?” He looked down at her curiously.

“Juvia thinks every moment with Gray-sama is special. So to Juvia, any time is perfect for a first kiss.” She smiled so sweetly is made Gray’s heart just about burst.

“Yeah?” Gray felt the corner of his mouth tug up.

“Yep.” She nodded in assurance.

“If you say so.”

And without a second thought, Gray closed the gap between them, planting a sweet and soft kiss on Juvia’s lips. As they parted, they leaned in and pressed their foreheads against each other, both wearing matching grins.

“That looked pretty special from in here!” Happy interjected from inside the house, followed by Natsu’s laughter.

Gray and Juvia jumped, startled by the sudden noise. “Happy, shut it!” Gray turned his head, looking through what used to be a window, and seeing Natsu and Happy standing in their living room.

“Maybe we wouldn’t be able to hear you two slobbering on each other if there was a window here!” Natsu yelled, referring to the gaping hole in the middle of his wall.

“We were not slobbering, you moron!” Gray blushed furiously, finally standing up and facing Natsu.

“That’s what it looked like to me!” Natsu teased back, wearing a devious smile.

“Aye!” Happy seconded.

“Mind your business, flame-for-brains!”

“Next time you need to hide out for a week, you ain’t comin’ here!” Natsu shouted.

“Fine by me.” Gray scoffed.

He then looked back at Juvia as she appeared a little on edge, wondering if she was going to have to break up a fight between Gray and Natsu.

He grinned once again, at the girl he couldn’t wait to spend more special time with, making more memories, and growing even closer

He reached for Juvia’s hand and squeezed it. “I was gettin’ tired of running away anyway.”

[bajitheestallion]

The twins with a lil sis (5-8 years old) please 🥺

Maybe they have to babysit or... Dunno xd

Headcanons or whatever ya want <3

Thank u

kawata twins babysitting

cw: nothing rly, just pure fluff, maybe a bit of swearing?

a/n : was i supposed to give the kid a name??? ill just do it

biking (solo) - frank ocean

days like these is when neither if them can find themselves able to pull out of bed, curly hair falling in tufts in front of their exhausted eyes

but obviously smiley's gotta be a model older brother, so he drags himself out of bed and into his twins room

he finds himself standing in the doorway in a gray vest and basketball shorts, leaning against the door frame

"dawg.. you gotta wake up.. it's about to be twelve pm.." no response, he watches of angry turns his back to the door as to which smiley pulls away from the threshold and into the kitchen

it doesn't take long until he's eating breakfast on the couch with his eyes sleepily staring at the blue light of the tv in their living room, each minute that passed slowly waking him up from his usual sluggish morning

eventually he's back to normal, his signature grin pressed upon his face, and soon enough his twin is sitting beside him, still dozing off into nothingness with the tv being white noise

though their calm morning is cut through with a loud knock

it couldn't be anyone from toman, since they know where the spare key is, either that or they bust in through angry's open window

hesitantly, the twins raise from their seats, approaching the door with caution, reaching for their hoodies which were hung up on a rack beside the driftwood door

smiley's the one to open the door, while angry is on standby for anyone who was picking a fight

"hi there! thanks for being able to take care of her, means a lot to me!" a loud woman grins and pinches their cheeks with both of her hands while a tiny girl stood beside her

"shiiiiiit..." nahoya whispers to himself through a bright grin, "you gotta be kidding.." souta rolls his eyes, already inches away from banging his head against the wall besides the door

but as always, hoya shows his pearly whites and gets on his knees, "yooo~ we'll have fun today, alright?" he opens his calloused hand out for the child to put her hand in, as to which she does with hesitance

"i've been so busy lately, i really have to thank you two for helping me out, baji's sucha good boy." she spoke once more and it hit both of them what was happening

baji had told his mother who had told her friend that the twins were always open for babysitting for extra cash, but they weren't expecting to actually go through with it

souta keeps his face turned away from the stressed lady in front of them, just incase his resting bitch face offputs her

the silence fills the tension between them, which is finally cut through by the woman saying that she'll be off, but first she gets on her knees to kiss her baby girl goodbye

they both say their goodbye's, but souta acts as if he has to yawn, covering his mouth to avoid giving off the wrong idea

the door closes gently and now the twins are staring at each other with some child in nahoya's arm

"do you know its' name..?" souta asked, "don't call it an it!" "you just-????"

it's rocky at first, the both of the are scrambling to change the tv onto something more kid friendly instead of what looked like a program about war

"guess we have the day off?" nahoya questioned rhetorically, making his way to the couch once more with the child on his lap, latched to the hoodie he had recently put on

"well, we're visiting the park, put your shoes on." souta murmurs back, already slipping his slides on after putting on a pair of [ unmatched ] socks

a slight groan can be heard as smiley lifts himself off the couch, "don't they need shit- ah, i mean stuff like snacks?"

souta finishes his previous action, placing his forehead against the wall, he'll get over his morning anger eventually, he just needs fresh air

"we can buy it, i don't trust either of us with a knife around a child," the younger twin responds, opening the door

at this point, she's already crawled onto smiley's back, hands gripping his hair like no tomorrow

"...this is kinda fun feeling, i should be a dad when i'm older!" smiley was now fully awake, stepping outside after his shoes were fully on

angry followed, the three of them starting to make their way down the street, to the park

"so, anything happen in school?" souta asks with a bright grin, "do five year olds even go to school?"

"do you even know my name?" the child retorts, tugging his hair to look at him better

souta stifles a laugh, while his brother clears his throat, "no, so what is it?"

"it's mai."

"mai?"

"yes."

.....

the swings came into view and suddenly mai's expression changes, "can you push me on those?" she pointed with a bright grin, the twins struggling to even see it since mai had a boost

"oh sure!" even if nahoya had no idea what she was talking about, he needed to get his money's worth

"i'm gonna go to the corner store n' grab snacks. i'll be back." souta departs quickly to avoid having mai come after his neck the way she did with his brother

"so what're your names?"

"i'm nahoya, he's souta."

"you look the same!"

"twins, y'know?" nahoya smiled, turning into the park

it wasn't full, maybe two or three kids running around, though they didn't seem to have a guardian around

nahoya lifts the kid off his shoulders, walking to the swings excitedly, "i haven't gotten on one since i was like four!" he grins, placing mai on one of the seats

even if he hasn't, he still prioritizes mai over himself, starting to push her on the swings, but not hard enough to send her flying

"you have any friends at school?"

mai is hesitant to answer the question, looking at the sun still vibrant and glowing, "yeah, i do!"

he smiled in response, "are field trips still a thing?"

"we went to the aquarium the other day!"

aquarium? he hasn't been in a long time, now that he thinks about it, he hasn't done a lot in a long time mainly due to being in toman

"if your mom wants to hire us again, do you wanna go to a different aquarium?"

almost as if she lit up, she glanced back at him with a toothy smile, though one of them were missing and probably fell out before she was in the twin’s care

“‘f course!”

[queenxxxsupreme]

Play For Me (Arthur Morgan x f!reader)

A/N: This could be read as a part 2 to Goodbye Kisses but it can definitley be read as a stand alone. This takes place after the events of Blessed Are The Peacemakers mission. Here is my RDR2 masterlist and here is the link to go to if you’d like to be on any of my taglists.

Word Count: 2.0k

Warnings: slight spoilers for chapter 3, pure fluff

Summary: Rarely does Arthur get a chance to play his guitar. So when he’s stuck at camp healing from a bullet to the shoulder, he takes the opportunity to play. 

***

Your eyes flickered around the small group gathered at the fire nearest to Pearson’s wagon. You chewed on your bottom lip when you didn’t spot him among the faces there. 

“Come have a seat with us, Y/N!” Sean patted the empty chair next to him. His words drew everyone’s attention to you.

“No thank you, Mr. MacGuire.” You looked over to one of the tables where poker was sometimes played or where Tilly or Mrs. Grimshaw played dominos. The table was empty. 

“You look lost.” John commented. 

“Just lookin’ for Arthur.” You sighed. “He’s been gettin’ more and more restless with havin’ to stay at camp, especially since he’s been gettin’ better.”

“How is his shoulder doin’?” 

“Still hurts him, but he can move it. I’m sure he’ll have trouble with it the rest of his life.”

“Yeah. Well, I haven’t seen him.” 

“He probably slipped out while you were busy lookin’ the other way.” Bill snorted. “That’s what I woulda done with all you’re nagging.”

“And that is precisely why you haven’t found yourself a nice girl like Y/N.” Karen gestured to you.

“Thank you, Karen.” You smiled at her. 

You excused yourself, turning to make sure none of the horses were missing. Arthur’s horse was still hitched right next to yours, but you knew very well that he wouldn’t take his horse. If he truly had left camp, his horse would be the first thing you’d look for. 

As you were approaching one of the two areas the horses were kept, you spotted Hosea brushing down Silver Dollar.

“Good evening, Hosea.” 

“Ah, Y/N!” He glanced up only momentarily before returning to brushing the horse. “Good evening to you.”

“Have you seen Arthur? I’ve been lookin’ all over for that man and I swear….” You trailed off, shaking your head. 

“Oh, don’t you worry about him leaving camp.” Hosea chuckled, shaking his head. “He wouldn’t dare leave camp before getting the okay from you and Mrs. Grimshaw. I spotted him earlier taking that guitar of his down towards the water.”

You turned your head to look in the direction of the lake. 

“I didn’t even think to look down there.” You thought out loud. 

“How’s he been with having to be on bedrest?” Hosea tucked the brush into a pocket on a saddlebag and buckled it up before moving around to the front of Silver Dollar and rubbing his nose. 

“He did fine at first…. For maybe the first four days. But then he wanted to get up and at least do somethin’ around camp.” You absentmindedly picked at your nails. “He hates not doin’ nothin’. He’d rather be out there gettin’ shot at and startin’ fights at saloons than be here and have me gettin’ after him for not listenin’ to me.”

“Oh, I know. Always made such a fuss when he was younger and he had to act with manners.” Hosea smiled fondly. “But he cares about you. That’s why he listens to you.”

Your eyes met him for a few moments, something inside your chest swelling at his words. Had Arthur told Hosea this? Or was it that easy for Hosea to see?

You looked away from him, tucking a few stray pieces of hair behind your ear. 

“I better go see if he’s down by the lake.” You took a few steps away from him. “Thank you, Hosea.”

“Anytime, my dear.”

***

You found Arthur sitting at the base of the tree that grew near the edge of the water. He sat with his knees bent slightly and his guitar resting in his lap. He wore a pair of jeans over top of his gray union suit. The sleeves of the union suit were pushed up to his elbows. 

As you drew closer to him, you could hear the quiet music coming from the instrument.

Sensing someone was watching him, Arthur turned his head to look back in the direction of camp. He caught sight of you and the look of panic and concern that someone had caught him disappeared. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. 

“You’ve been hidin’ from me.” You pulled up your skirts just a little so you could sit on your knees. You sat next to him, facing him so you could see him. 

“Just wanted some peace and quiet. Uncle was gettin’ rambunctious. Talkin’ ‘bout how we were like one in the same and best friends now and all that nonsense.” Arthur muttered, shaking his head.

“Oh, he’s just teasin’ you. He knows how easy it is to get you worked up, especially right now when you’re stuck at camp.” You reached up to brush your fingers through his dark blond hair. “Should’ve told me you were playin’. I would’ve come down here with you to listen. You know I love it when you play.”

He looked down to watch his fingers as he strummed the strings. The movements were slow and steady. 

“How does your shoulder feel?” You asked softly.

“Hurts, but I don’t think that’ll go away. Just gotta get used to it.”

“What kind of hurt?”

Arthur thought about the answer for a moment while his fingers worked over the strings of the guitar. 

“Like someone’s takin’ their thumb and pressin’ as hard as they can right on to the nerves in that one area. It doesn’t hurt that bad. I can ignore it. Annoyin’ more than anything.”

“Can I take a look?” 

He nodded and quit strumming the guitar. You reached out to start working the buttons on his gray union suit, but before you could even get to the very first one, Arthur was taking one of your hands and bringing it to his lips. He kissed the back of your hand softly, tenderly, his thumb tracing a circle over the space he didn’t kiss. 

No words were exchanged as he released your hand and let you go about unbuttoning his union suit. You only had to undo the first three buttons. You pushed the shoulder of the suit down enough so you could see the healing wound on his shoulder. There was a bandage over it, but you pulled it aside. 

“How does it look?” Arthur asked, cornflower blue eyes glued to your face. 

“Looks a lot better than it did four weeks ago.” You replaced the bandage and pulled the material of his union suit back into place. 

“Good. Maybe now you can sleep through the night without wakin’ me up to check on me.”

“Oh, I doubt that.” You began to put the buttons through each eyelet in the suit. 

“You worry too much.”

“I’ll always worry too much. You have a nasty habit of drawin’ bad things to yourself, Arthur Morgan. Especially since Dutch has started lettin’ Micah take the lead on things.”

He said nothing. 

Your eyes drifted up from his union suit to his face. 

“How are you likin’ this beard?” You asked, your gaze flickering over the dark beard he was sporting. He hadn’t shaved since before he was hurt, so it had grown out to be much longer than either of you were used to. 

Arthur grunted and brought his hand up to rub his jaw. 

“Need to shave it off. It’s too long.”

“I kinda like it.” You smiled. “Think it makes you fit in with everyone else here. Bill and Uncle and John.”

Arthur rolled his eyes. 

You giggled. 

“Will you play for me for a little bit?” You asked him, moving to sit against the tree beside him. “At least until the sun goes down?”

Arthur shifted his hold on the guitar, turning his head to watch you get comfortable next to him. Though you had asked him if he’d play, you had already made up your mind that you were going to sit there and he was going to play whether his answer was yes or no. 

“Only for you.” He leaned over to kiss your forehead. 

He kept his eyes down, focusing on how he was moving his fingers across the strings. But he could feel your gaze on him, feel your eyes studying the side of his face. 

It was so strange how if it had been anyone else staring at him, his stomach would twist up and he’d get too nervous and mess up. He’d want to immediately retreat to the comfort and safety of his caravan. He didn’t like people watching him too much, and especially not too close. 

But you weren’t staring at him. You were observing him. Your eyes were soft and kind, taking in every little microexpression he made. You were mapping out his face- as if you hadn’t done it a thousand times before. You were admiring him like he was some breathtaking beauty. And it confused the ever living hell out of him. He couldn’t understand how you were so captivated by him. There was nothing special about him. 

You leaned over and kissed the corner of his eye, then when he turned his head to look at you with furrowed brows, you stole a kiss from his lips. 

“You’re bein’ soft on me.” He commented, his voice low and quiet. It matched the beautiful sound coming from the guitar. 

“I’m always soft on you, Mr. Morgan.” You smiled. Your eyes flickered down to the guitar, unable to hold his intense gaze any longer. “I’m…. Arthur, I know you’ve heard it from me a dozen times in the past few weeks…. But I really am glad you’re okay.”

He pulled one hand away from the guitar, making the music stop, and reached over to cup your cheek. He tilted your head up so you had no choice but to look at him once more. 

“Wouldn’t’ve been able to do it without ya.” His breath was warm as it fanned over your face. His lips ghosted over yours and then he kissed the space in front of your ear. “I know it hasn’t been easy for you.”

You pulled away enough to be able to look into his eyes. Your lips parted as if you wanted to say something, but they got caught in a lump in your throat. 

With his brows gently crinkled, he leaned forward to kiss your head. 

“Thank you for bein’ strong for me. I know it wasn’t easy for you to see me like that. All…. All busted up and beat to hell. But thank you for takin’ care of me. Thank you for-for stayin’.”

“I love you, Arthur.” You leaned forward against his lips, shivering under his touch. “Even when I’m scared as hell, I-I won’t leave your side. I couldn’t do it.”

He held his breath for a moment, his hand coming up to the back of your head. Then he chuckled. He moved his head so he could kiss your cheek. 

“Anybody ever tell you that you might be crazy? I mean, fallin’ in love with an outlaw?” 

You giggled softly as his breath tickled your ear, turning your head instinctively. This put your nose into the crook of his neck. You took the opportunity to kiss him on the side of his neck, knowing very well he was ticklish there, and smiled when he brought his shoulder up to his ear. 

“Hey now! That ain’t fair!”

“It was too good a chance to pass up.”

Arthur’s eyes found you, but they didn’t stay on you for long. There was something moving behind you that caught his attention. It was Karen and Sean walking along the shore of the lake. They hadn’t noticed you yet but they were heading in your direction. 

You could sense Arthur tense up and see the look on his face shift from the carefree, tender one only you got to see, to the more hardened Arthur that the rest of camp knew. 

You looked over your shoulder, frowning as you saw the couple idly walking along the shore. 

“Come on.” You patted Arthur’s knee. “Let’s go back to camp and change those bandages.”

“Didn’t you just change them?”

“Yeah, this mornin’. It’s past noon. You need to change them again. We don’t need you gettin’ an infection.” 

He sighed and muttered something incoherent under his breath as he got to his feet.

“You drive me crazy, woman.”

“That is what I’m here for, sweetheart.”

Taglist: @winterwolf @doggone-cowgirl @lauramb7 @caraqas @bluscryn @krenee1drful @zodiacaldust

[katehuntington]

Title: Ride With Me (part 23) Fandom: Supernatural Timeline: 2008 Pairing: Dean x Reader Word count: ±5200 words Summary series: Y/N is a talented horse rider who is on her way to become a professional. In order to convince her father that she deserves the loan needed to start her own farm, she goes to Arizona for six months, to intern at a ranch owned by Bobby and Ellen Singer. Her future is set out, but then she meets a handsome horseman, who goes by the name of Dean Winchester. A heartwarming series about a cowboy who falls for the girl, letting go of the past and the importance of family. Summary part 23: The Flagstaff Horsefair has turned out to be a huge success, but before they go home, an unexpected visitor changes everything. Warnings series: NSFW, 18+ only! Fluff, angst, eventually smut. Swearing, smoking, alcohol intoxication, alcohol abuse. Mutual pining, heartbreak. Crying, nightmares, childhood trauma. Description of animal abuse, domestic violence, mentions of addiction. Financial problems, stress, mental breakdown. Description of blood and injury, hospital scenes, character death, grief. Music: Dean’s ride: Time Has No Mercy - The Common Linnets  Follow ‘Kate Huntington’s Ride With Me playlist’ on Spotify! Author’s note: Thank you @atc74​​​, and @winchest09​​​ for helping me. Also a special thanks to @jules-1999​​​, who has offered me her knowledge about rodeo events like these, and @squirrelnotsam​​​, who knows Arizona like the back of her hand.

Ride With Me Masterlist

     The final day of the Flagstaff Horsefair 2008 is well on its way, the sun beating down on the market stalls and food trucks. Spectators mix with riders and trainers, some having drinks on the terras, others shopping at the tack and clothing stores. Giggling kids are chasing each other on the grass, the younger ones riding stick horses. Dean smiles at the children when they cross in front of him as he walks up towards the picture stand, slowing his step for a moment in order not to collide with the squealing youthful bunch. 

     By a van with ‘Equestrian Photo’ on the side, he pauses, then moves under the awning. The saleswoman gives out a printed photo to waiting clients on the side, wishing them a good day before she directs her attention to Dean. She greets him with a kind smile which the cowboy returns. Linda knows he doesn’t need help finding the images taken during this event, it’s not the first time the horse trainer has visited the photo stand over the years. Quite a few of the photos hanging on the walls in the Singer’s home and the cafeteria were made by Linda’s boss, the photographer who regularly works horse shows in the region. Ellen usually buys at least one when either he or Jo got on the podium. Dean isn’t interested in purchasing a photo of one of his own rides, though.

     He looks up when the red-haired photographer stumbles into the van from the back entrance, one Nikon hanging from a sling, dangling on her hip, and another one on a monopod with a huge zoom lens attached to it resting against her shoulder. Her curls are wild and it’s clear she’s in a hurry, the next class about to start already.      “Hi, Dean,” she greets, recognizing the familiar horseman instantly.      “Hey.” He nods at her with a smile, his eyes flicking back to the screen. “How’s it going?”      “Good. Busy,” she returns, taking out the battery of the cameras skillfully and swapping them for fully charged ones. “But busy is good these days, ain’t it? You had a few good runs, didn’t ya?”      “Can’t complain,” he admits, grinning as he thinks about how successful this event has been so far.      “Your student gave quite the performance last night,” the photographer smirks, handing Linda the memory card and taking back empty Sandisks to replace them with. 

     Dean looks up at her over the screen, noticing the mischief in her eyes. The way she just emphasized the word ‘student’ tells him that she knows exactly what’s up. He raises his eyebrows and chuckles, flustered. Looks like just about everyone in the business is up to speed at this point.

     “Check out the ones at the bottom of the folder. You can thank me later,” the redhead advises, grabbing a chocolate bar and a bottle of water from the small fridge under the counter before she heads for the back door again. “Gotta run!”

     Somewhat confused, Dean watches her head off to the main arena, before he redirects his attention to the display in front of him again. Stills of last night’s highlights pass by, allowing him to relive the amazing moments. The shots of the actual run are great, although he can imagine that Y/N and Meadow aren’t the most difficult pair to shoot. The Quarter mare is very photogenic with her copper coat and broad white blaze. She’s elegant, much like her rider, who has a fantastic seat, which shows, even on a still image. 

     Curious what the capturer of these images means, the cowboy goes down further, reaching a series of photos that show the seconds right after Y/N finished her freestyle, her arms wrapped around her horse’s neck, hugging her tight. He makes a mental note to pick that one. 

     There are more of her coming towards the entrance, waving at the crowd, but it’s the next couple of shots that has his jaw fall slack. The photographer must have sprinted to the other side of the tunnel before the horse and rider left the ring, because she managed to document the exact moment when he and his girlfriend embraced, Y/N still in the saddle, his arm around her, the emotional release evident. Jo is holding on to Meadow’s reins on the other side, smiling as she watches her friend and her cousin.

     The next photo shows just the two of them, standing in the gateway facing the arena while waiting for the score, followed by a shot of him lifting her off the ground when the realization of the new PR settled in. The final picture has to be his favorite. It’s one of the kiss they shared. The composition of the portrait is astonishing, the spotlights on the showground illuminating the figures in the center, silhouettes against the vibrant arena. His heart grows, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He never thought he would be able to experience what he felt at that moment again, the great magnitude of pride, joy, and love. But this photo brings it all back, and he has to have it.

     Still smiling at the warm feeling that has settled in his entire body, Dean scribbles down the file numbers on the order form and hands it to the blonde saleswoman, together with a fifty-dollar-bill. The wrangler bought six in total, one to frame and decorate the wall in the cafeteria, four for his girlfriend. The chosen photos are shots of horse and rider in a sliding stop, of the second right after finishing the test when Y/N threw her arms around Meadow’s neck, and of the precious embrace between him and his girl. He got a double print of the kiss they shared, one for her, one for him. 

     It’s a picture that he will cherish, come whatever. A picture he wants to be able to look at when he needs to, to remind himself of what he has got going for him. He knows challenging times are coming, with the ranch, with their relationship. Dean is well aware he’s approaching that inevitable turning point when he has to open up further than the lost boy with a dark past is comfortable with. But this photo, a moment forever frozen in time, will be the beacon he needs to find his way home. 

     Dean takes the envelope with the printed pictures from Linda and heads towards the ring. Jo is due to enter the arena in ten minutes and he wouldn’t want to miss it, for one, because she is going to bust his ass if he’s not there. It sometimes baffles him how his little cousin acts like she can’t stand being around him and yet searches for his approval so often. 

     He takes out the photo he wants to save for himself together with the one he will add to the cafeteria’s Wall of Fame, and slips them in the inner pocket of his denim jacket before he reaches the foot of the bleachers. With big strides, he conquers the steps, looking left and right in search of his friends once he has made it to the top. He spots Benny and Y/N on one of the higher rows when the farrier lifts his hat off his head and whistles. This barrel race is one of the highlights of the event and the arena is almost filled to full capacity, only a few seats left. Thankfully, his girlfriend saved him a spot.

     His smile grows wider when he sees the cowgirl, and deep inside he’s excited to give her the present he just purchased. He can’t wait to witness her reaction.      “I got you somethin’,” Dean announces.      Intrigued, Y/N pulls her focus away from the competitor currently in the ring and looks at her boyfriend, awaiting. He offers her the envelope, placing his now empty hands on his knees, somewhat nervously.      “What’s this?” she wonders, her curiosity peaked.      “Open it,” the cowboy urges.      She does, carefully folding back the seal flap and taking out the prints. When she turns them over, she lets out a stunned gasp, much to her boyfriend’s delight.      “These are amazing!” she says, elated, going through the pictures of her and Meadow slowly.

     The last two photos silence her, however, much like they did Dean when he first saw them on the screen. Moved, she takes in the portraits of the strong bond between her and the man that’s sitting next to her. After a few long seconds, she glances aside, meeting his warm eyes.  This cowboy with a John Wayne reputation - as Jo so poetically put it - sure has his ways. He might not be very vocal when it comes to his feelings, but that’s alright, because he is able to communicate through different languages. A kiss, a dance, his trust, his support. And now these photos. It’s proof of his adoration for her, and it’s more valid than a signature.

     She closes the small gap between them, moving under his hat, and grazes her soft lips over his. Ignoring his Southern friend, who lets out a low chuckle when he notices the lovebirds next to him, the head wrangler closes his eyes and kisses her back. His hand travels into her hair and holds her, making sure she doesn’t go anywhere. He can feel every connection; her featherlight fingertips on his stubble, her cute nose against his, her lashes dusting the freckles from his cheeks. Dean doesn’t need words, but neither does she. 

     When he slowly pulls away from her, he looks at her lovingly, forgetting time for a moment. It’s only when the commentator announces Jo’s name over the speakers, that they return their attention to the arena. The gate opens and his cousin and her horse Bullet shoot towards the first barrel, the animal doing his name justice. The three wranglers of the Gold Canyon ranch get on their feet, cheering on the blonde cowgirl, who goes through the course in record time. When she clocks a new PR, Y/N bounces on her feet, hugging Dean tight and letting out that laugh that he loves so much. 

     They don’t notice Benny’s gaze wandering off to the car park behind the bleaches. He has spotted a beige pickup pulling in. Like a hawk, the farrier follows the GMC truck.      “We’re going over to Jo to celebrate. Are you coming?” The enthusiastic intern calls for Benny’s attention, and he turns his head to face his best pal’s girlfriend.      “In a minute, darlin’,” he says, giving her a smile. “Gonna watch a few more runs.”      “Alright, see you in a bit, brother,” Dean chuckles happily, before his girlfriend drags him towards the exit by his hand. 

     The Southerner watches them leave, then redirects his attention to the beat-up car on the field. A man gets out, his face shielded by a black cowboy hat. His posture seems familiar, he’s not even sure why. Benny narrows his eyes, but the figure is too far away to recognize. Then the frown evens out, his jaw falling slack. Suddenly, it clicks.       “No fuckin’ way in hell…” he mumbles to himself.

     But there ain’t no way, right? He can’t be here. Before Benny can decide otherwise, he bolts towards the steps to get down from the bleachers, hoping to not lose sight of the guy. He better make sure who just set foot on the showgrounds is exactly who he suspects he is, before he breaks the news to his best friend.

     Dean swings the heavy saddle onto Aerosmith’s back, his last horse to compete at this tournament. After this run, all that’s left for him to do is coach Y/N and Joplin for their competition debut, and then they can all pack their gear and go home. Despite that he enjoys horse shows like these, he’s looking forward to his own room, his own bed. He’s looking forward to pulling up the driveway that leads to the place that is his home.

     It has been a successful couple of days. With five horses sold and Joplin likely to add to that number, the Flagstaff Horsefair has proven to be very fruitful. Bobby made good money, and the ranch owner will be able to pay his crew, plus pay off some bills. Then there’s the business deal they landed with Fergus MacLeod. The cowboy might not like the Englishman in the slightest, but if they decide to take on Cain’s training, it will provide a much needed steady income. Dean isn’t delusional; he knows the ranch isn't out of the woods just yet, but it’s a start.

     Humming and relaxed like he always is before competing, he tightens the cinch of the chestnut Quarter, petting him on the shoulder before he takes him out of the stable.      “Good luck, cowboy.”      The man who the words are meant for smiles, peeking into the stable next to him and noticing Y/N through the steel bars. She’s preparing Joplin, brushing her tail. Their starting time is only forty-five minutes after Dean’s, since both are competing in the same class. Sadly, she will not be able to see him ride.      The mare next to his girlfriend pins her ears back and gives Aero a dirty look when the gelding comes too close for her liking. Both snigger at Joplin’s bitchy behavior.

     “You’ll make it back in time to help me warm up, right?” she checks. “I’m kinda nervous, this being my first cutting competition and all.”      “Yeah, of course,” he promises, shooting her a wink. “I’ll be there.” 

     Dean takes his horse outside, the Arizona sun welcoming him with bright light. A force of habit has him check his spurs and the tack before he positions himself on the left side of his horse in order to mount.

     “Chief?”      Looking over his shoulder, he sees Benny approaching. His strides are hasty, his jaw tensed. He checks if anyone is around before he halts and faces the head wrangler, who can read from the body language alone that something is off.      “What is it?” he asks, his brows knitted together.      The Southerner’s piercing blue eyes meet his gaze before he continues whispering. “I hate to do this now right before your run, brother, but--”      “But what?” Dean urges when the farrier hesitates.

     Benny draws in a deep breath and rubs his beard, needing a second to collect himself. He knows that what he is about to tell his best friend will have him shake on his foundations, but he needs to be prepared. He deserves to know who he might run into. The broad-shouldered ranch hand sighs, then delivers the unsettling message.      “Your father is here.”

     As if he just got struck by lightning, Dean stares at Benny, his eyes wide and mouth agape. The announcement rings in his ears, sounding more surreal every time the four words bounce off the walls inside his head. Reality hits him like a raging bull, however. His father is here. His father is here.

     The head wrangler drops his gaze, his eyes flicking over little rocks and lumps of dirt by his feet. Speechless, he takes his hat off and wipes his forehead with his sleeve, realizing he’s sweating. His heart is hammering in his chest, so forceful that it hurts. Panic starts to win terrain, but he pushes it down and nods rigidly, acknowledging Benny’s words.

     “Okay,” he returns after a few long seconds. “Thanks for telling me.”      “If there’s anythin’--” Benny offers, but is interrupted by the man in front of him, who shoves his left foot into the stirrup and swiftly gets on his horse.      “I’m good,” he assures, doing his best to come across as calm and collected. 

     Benny dips his chin, half accepting Dean’s choice to put this on hold for now. The rider has one last horse to compete, so the Southerner understands why he’s trying to keep his head in the game. He wishes he didn’t have to drop this bomb now, but there’s a chance his friend might run into John on these showgrounds. Benny might not know the entire story of what happened all those years ago, but he knows enough to recognize the impact the presence of Dean’s biological father will have. He watches quietly how the horseman pushes his legs into Aerosmith’s flanks and steers the horse towards the warmup arena without another word. 

     Suddenly nervous, Dean is highly aware of all the people who cross his path. He briefly studies them, even though recognizing the man who has been absent for over half of his life scares the hell out of him. Why the fuck is he here? 

     Dean isn’t just afraid of running into his old man; he’s angry. Angry about all the wrong choices that were made, angry about those memories rushing back to him. He stored them in a box and nailed the latch shut. He buried them, dug a hole deep enough to fit all those dark thoughts. He covered the surface with a thick layer of concrete, convinced that all those measures would be enough to lock away what he hoped to never feel again. Hopelessness, frustration, torment, aggression, guilt. But those emotions are now working their way through the cracks, like a weed that just won’t die, working up to the surface and showing its ugly head again. 

     But what has him exasperated the most, is the timing. Why now? His father hasn’t given a damn for fifteen years, fifteen fucking years, and now that Dean is finally getting to the point of allowing himself to be happy, he decides to show up? His fist clenches on the horn of the saddle, his nails digging into his palm. This isn’t fair!

     His insides churn and twist even more when his mind snaps to Y/N. A sudden and heavy uneasiness settles in his chest, almost suffocating him. Shit, what if she runs into him? What if she learns the truth? Dean breathes out a shuddering breath, closing his eyes for a second while tipping his hat down. The panic that has his fingers shaky while he guides his horse into the warmup ring only grows with that thought. No no no, he thinks to himself. He can’t have his father ruin what is supposed to be his love story. He can’t lose this, he can’t lose her.

     Preparing for his final ride goes anything but smoothly. The rider is so lost in thought that he accidentally cuts off another competitor and has to hit the brakes, apologizing to the cowgirl for the misstep. It’s a wake-up call, though; he really needs to focus and get his head straight. Aerosmith is one of the horses he and Bobby decided to hold on to a little longer, hoping the economy will be on its way to recovery somewhere next year so that they can make a better profit. Dean brought the younger stallion along to gain experience in the ring, yet he wants this ride to be solid, knowing a potential buyer could be watching.

     But when he enters the arena, he can’t help but scan the crowd, suddenly aware that one of those pair of eyes is his father. He thinks of Y/N and how nervous she was last night, and suddenly it makes so much more sense what experiencing that kind of anxiety is like. The rider doesn’t even hear the announcement of his name over the amplifiers, he doesn’t hear Jo and Bobby shouting words of encouragement at him from the sideline. What he does hear is his rapidly beating heart, like a thundering echo of an oncoming storm. 

     He glances over his horse’s ears at the cattle in front of them. C’mon, Dean, this isn’t difficult. Separate a cow and let Aero do the work. Two and a half minutes and he will be out of the limelight. Who knows, maybe if they pack fast after Y/N’s ride, he won’t even run into his father. 

     The two herdholders that are in the ring to assist all contestants keep the group of young steers together. Unsettled, Dean swallows thickly and licks his dry lips, his eyes on the clock. When it starts ticking, he moves his hands forward and pushes Aerosmith towards the herd. The game is simple. In two and a half minutes, he has to separate two different heifers from the group and keep the selected cow in the middle of the arena, he and his Quarter the only boundary between the animal and his flock. He and Aero will be judged on degree of difficulty, confidence, and agility, but right now, all Dean is thinking about is surviving.

     Deciding to not make it too complicated for his horse and himself, the horseman doesn’t pick a heifer too far into the herd on the first cut. Without disrupting the gathered bunch, the chestnut calmly makes his way through until Dean has decided on a cow, which he then carefully begins to push to the edge. When he has driven the brindle heifer out, Dean drops the reins and allows his Quarter to take the lead. Aerosmith locks on the lonely animal and crouches, skillfully keeping it in the center of the arena.

     The crowd cheers, because the talented Quarter shows to be quick on his feet, darting from left and right and accelerating fast when his target tries to get around him. The cowboy keeps his balance, allowing his horse to move under him freely. After a few attempts to get past them, the cow yields and the rider signals Aero to back down. He blows out a breath. One down, one more to go.

     The second cut goes according to plan as well. This time he does pick a heifer in the middle of the herd. The Quarterhorse tries not to disturb the rest of the cattle as he separates the one, but splitting the animals is not as clean as the first time. Once the cow is driven to the middle of the ring again, Aerosmith is back in his element and shows off his moves. Dean only has to sit back and let his partner under the saddle do the work, which he’s grateful for, because he feels like he wouldn’t be able to guide his horse in a simple circle if he had to. 

     The buzzer sounds; his two and a half minutes are up. Relieved, Dean exhales; at least he didn’t completely screw up their run. The young gelding really pulled through despite a nervous wreck of a rider on top of him, which just shows what a fantastic horse he is.      “Thanks, bud,” Dean says softly, petting the chestnut on the shoulder.

     The applause barely registers and it’s only when his eyes roam over the audience, that he notices the numbers on the board. 72.5 points; not bad. Normally, he would have been elated with a score like that, but now he just wants to get out of the ring as fast as possible, away from possible prying eyes. He feels like he’s being watched, well aware that his father is quite possibly amongst the people in the crowd. Call him a coward, but he needs to get out of here.

     “Solid ride, Dean,” Bobby compliments when the rider comes through the gate, walking with him. When his nephew fails to respond, he looks up, narrowing eyes taking him in from under his baseball cap. “You okay, son?”

     The troubled rider snaps his head at his uncle. Son. Bobby calls him that all the time and has done so ever since he took the lost boy under his wing all those years ago. Dean has grown accustomed to the title, even found comfort in it, glad to hear that word coming from his surrogate dad. But now the term confuses him. Suddenly, the man who has failed to step up to take care of his children and yet is his only living parent is here, and it is messing with his head in more ways than one.      “Yeah, I’m fine,” he says, quickly averting his gaze and walking on.

     Bobby lets him go, but Dean can sense the ranch owner watching him carefully. Unable to stop himself from scanning the people around the warm-up area, he briefly acknowledges the congratulations wishes from a few of his opponents with a nod and a ‘thanks’. Normally he’s up for a chat after a good run, but not now. He feels like he’s about to lose his mind, and he wants to be alone when it happens. He needs space, he needs air. 

     After a few minutes of hacking, Dean reaches the stables, grateful to find them mostly empty. With the last competition currently taking place in the arena, a lot of competitors already packed their trucks and trailers and left throughout the morning and afternoon. At the other end of the tent two people are tacking up, but they are far out of earshot. 

     In front of Aerosmith’s stable, the rider dismounts and leads the Quarter into his box, making quick work of removing the tack and rinsing the chestnut down. With the saddle on his hip and the bridle in hand, he steps into the storage room.      “How did it go?”

     Dean startles and almost drops the heavy load he was carrying, spinning around to find Y/N in the doorway. Somehow, it completely slipped his mind that she would still be here. The cowgirl is wearing her show outfit again, but traded her black blouse for a denim one this time. Long chaps hang down from her waist, strapped around her legs, her brass spurs barely showing. Her boots are shining and her hair is braided, her lucky hat only just allowing him to behold the playfulness in her eyes. She looks absolutely perfect.

     Clueless and carefree, she waits for an answer, but her happy expression falls slightly when she notices his reaction. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” she chuckles, somewhat self-conscious. “What has you on your toes?”      The cowboy blinks at her a few times before he kicks into gear again, storing away the saddle in one of the tack boxes. “Nothin’. Yeah, it uh - it went alright. 72.5 points,” he says, smiling at her faintly, quick to dodge her unraveling gaze.

     Silence follows and he knows that she’s studying him, but Dean can’t even look at her, not sure how to deal with the worry that he knows is evident on her beautiful face. The second he gets lost in the vision of his girl, he will fall apart, and that’s something the unsettled wrangler can’t allow to happen. He can’t let her see it, she can’t know. So instead, he moves past her through the doorway to fill a feeding net with hay, desperately searching for a way to keep himself busy as he tries to get a hold of himself.

     “Dean? Hey…”      Her voice sounds so warm and kind, that he can’t ignore her any longer. When he has strung up the net, he turns to his girlfriend, wiping his sweaty hands on his jeans. Concerned eyes take him in when he looks up.      “You’re shaking,” she notices, gently wrapping her delicate fingers around his forearms. “What’s going on? Did something happen?”

     Before she finishes her sentence completely, he’s already shaking his head. It’s more denial than an actual answer, refusing to give in to all the contradicting feelings that are pulling the rug from under his boots. She knows him well enough to see that he’s a total mess right now. His mask is faltering and he’s breaking character, unable to deliver the standard ‘I’m fine’. Can he tell her about the disturbing message Benny delivered earlier? She will have more questions, questions he is nowhere near ready to answer. But then again, he can’t lie to her either, not anymore. 

     Dean takes a deep breath in order to collect himself and looks at her as heavy footfalls draw his attention. Expecting Benny, he glances over his shoulder, ready to request if his friend can grant them some privacy, when he catches a glimpse of the person standing in the alley between the stables. Every muscle in his body tenses, an invisible fist squeezing his throat shut. His heart - which has been beating unhealthily fast since the alarming news was delivered to him about an hour ago - now seems to come to a full stop for a few solid seconds. 

     They might be in Arizona, but Dean just froze to the ground, unable to move or speak. All he can do is stare at the man that is his own spitting image, only three decades older. The familiar stranger is wearing a smile on his lips, emotion swimming in weary eyes. After fifteen years of silence, John Winchester stands before his oldest child, a broken voice delivering the words Dean never wished to hear again, and yet missed so dearly.

     “Hello, son.” 

Well, shit... Enough with the fluff. Angst is here!

Also, did you spot my little Stan Lee moment? Does a certain red-haired photographer seem familiar? Yep, that’s me!

Thank you for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to like or reblog my work, shoot me a message or buy me coffee (Link to Kofi in bio at the top of the page).

Read part twenty-four here

[il0veyoujk]

New house, new roomies

Sixth Chap.

This is a tickle related series, so if you are not interested in that type of content, I’d suggest ya to find another ff to read, thank you :)

Mini series based on a request from an anon and one  of my ff Self-Esteem (I think you should better read it firstly so you can understand more what’s going on)

Summary: Nefeli (14) has just moved in with the boys and Jimin, but she is still not comfortable around them, so each one spends a day with her in order to get her to open up and to know each other more.

Warnings: None

Notes: None

Lots of love Nef 💕

“I’ll grab your waist and I’ll lift you, okay?”

“Are you sure I am not too heavy for ya?”

“For the last time Nef, you are not!”

“If you say so, I am just warning you”

Today Hoseok and Nefeli had decided to learn a new dance. Well, Nefeli had asked Hoseok to help her learn it. They currently were in the living room, in front of the TV and loud music was bursting from the speakers. All the rest of the boys were out of the house for various reasons. Yoongi and Jungkook were out, playing basket, Namjoon was in the local library, Jimin and Taehyung were somewhere in the park and Jin had gone to the stores to buy the blue cheese the boys had forgotten to bring.

“Come on Nefeli, you have said that so many times and you are never heavy!” Hoseok smiled his famous shiny smile and raised his sleeves up to his elbows.

The young girl sighed deeply as Hoseok turned the music louder and bent his knees, getting ready to catch her.

“Fine, but if we fall, don’t say I didn’t warn you” the young girl took a step back and started running up to the lad in front of her, who just rolled his eyes playfully.

In a swift movement, Nefeli jumped in the air, waiting for Hoseok to catch her. However, as soon as he caught her, Nefeli immediately curled up, giggling in the air on his arms. Hoseok raised an eyebrow but before he could say something else, she had already fallen on the floor.

“Is everything alright love?” Hoseok asked Nefeli who was still on the floor, grinning from ear to ear.

“Yeheheah don’t worry, everything is fihihine” she giggled in response, getting back on her feet and getting in position to jump on him again.

Hoseok, who had understood something, raised his arms again and stepped a little behind, ready to catch the still giggling girl again.

“Okay 3... 2... 1... Jump!” the young lad yelled, smiling widely, signaling for Nef to run again.

Which she did.

Nefeli started running again, still grinning and mentally drumming her head in the rhythm of the music. She jumped again in the air, stretching her body as much as she could so Hoseok could get a better grip on her.

What she didn’t expect tho was Hoseok to grab her by her sides, gripping on them and wiggling his fingers there so as he could keep her still. But he had managed to do something else...

The young girl busted in loud, belly laughter, shaking her head side to side and thrashing around in the air, trying to escape the devilish feeling.

“What is it Nef?” Hoseok smirked, wiggling his fingers more, knowing full well what he was doing.

“NAHAHAHAO LEMME GAHAHAHAO AHAHAHA!” Nefeli was kicking out nonstop, while her arms were falling everywhere they could reach.

“What happened? Am I doing something wrong?” the boy’s fingers moved to her lower ribs, squeezing and kneading there, touching some of her most sensitive nerves.

“PLEAHAHAHAHASE NAHAHAO AHAHAHA!” Nefeli kicked out more, squirming in the air, way more than before.

She couldn’t imagine that someone would have noticed how sensitive her midsection was just like that. And being tickled in the air was making everything ten times worse. It was like she couldn’t escape and she was stuck there, only able to laugh and squirm around.

“Now tell me Neffie, does it perhaps tickle a little?” his teasing made the young girl snicker louder, sending a tingly shiver down her already sensitive spine.

One thing Nefeli couldn’t stand was teasing. She knew that if she tries more, she would have escaped the tickled, but teasing is something she cannot stop. Only if the teaser wanted it to stop. And getting teased makes her feel even sensitive.

“YEAHAHAHAHAS AHAHAHAHA!” the girl blushed deep red, not really wanting to admit that. She hated saying that word out loud or even say she is sensitive.

Hoseok smirked wider and moved his right hand on her hips while the other remained in its place, squeezing endlessly the two spots.

Nefeli felt her nerves being set on fire while every hair she had on her body was now straight. Her legs were falling everywhere they could while she was gripping tightly on his wrists, trying to set herself free. But nothing seemed to work. “HOSEOK AHAHAHAHA NAHAHAO AHAHAHAHA!”

“Aw, you are so cute Neffie!” Hoseok finally laid Nef’s body on the carpet, on her back, while she was panting hard.

However, the young girl didn’t have much time to react before Hoseok pinned her arms above her head with one arm and started clawing her tummy with the other one.

Nefeli let out a mini shriek and fell into hysterical giggles, shaking her head side to side in order to make the feeling less intense, but nothing was working.

Hoseok’s fingers were touching and kneading softly her lower tummy, occasionally shaking his fingertips in the middle of her stomach “Your laughter is so sweet sunshine!”

Nefeli felt a blush appearing on her cheeks from the tease, while she was kicking out nonstop “PleahahaHAHAHAhase nahaHAHAhahao ahahaha!”

“Please what? Please more? Oh, I was planning on letting you go but if you insist” Hoseok fastly sat on her arms and started scribbling his fingers there.

The girl was immediately thrown in loud laughter and was trying hard to pull her arms down. Oh well, she had no chance obviously. Her tiny frame was no match for Hoseok’s one.

“NAHAHAHAHAO! NAHAHAHAT THEAHAHAHARE AHAHAHAHA!” Nef was kicking out and squirming around, not stopping for at least one second. Even if she wanted to, she couldn’t. The feeling was making her so sensitive she couldn’t control it.

“Aw, are you a little too ticklish to take it, Neffie?” he smirked, running his fingers on her bare armpits, making her scream in laughter.

But guess who is too stubborn to admit it. Yes, Nef. She would never say how sensitive she is. And of course, she could never use the word ‘ticklish’. She just couldn’t.

“NAHAHAHAHAO I’M NAHAHAHAHAOT AHAHAHAHA!” she shook her head cheekily, her laughter raising an octave when Hoseok sped up his fingers.

“Oh, what was that? You are not? Hm, then you won’t mind me doing that, right?” in a swift movement Hoseok’s fingers found their way on her lowest ribs, scribbling and running there.

Nefeli immediately was thrown in loud, belly laughter, shaking her head side to side and kicking out nonstop. It tickled so much that she was feeling like she would explode anytime soon. Her ribs were really sensitive and the fact that she was pinned wasn’t helping the matter.

“BWAHAHAHAHAHA NAHAHAHAHA HOSEOK PLEAHAHAHAHASE!” Nef kept kicking out and laughing loudly while Hoseok’s fingers were still dancing all over her lower ribs. His nails were dragging and scribbling all over her poor bones while his thumbs were squeezing the back of her ribs in the most ticklish way Nef had ever experienced.

“What’s the matter, sweetie? What’s so funny?” Hoseok asked innocently. If Nefeli could glare at him, she would, but she couldn’t. She was busy laughing and getting tickled.

“NAHAHAHAHAOTHING AHAHAHAHAHA!” Nefeli screamed in laughter when Hoseok’s fingers touched her middle ribs, pinching and scratching them with no mercy at all.

“Oh is that so? Then why are you laughing? I thought you weren’t ticklish, are you?” his teasing was making everything worse for the poor girl. His devilish fingers were digging and sometimes slipping in the space between her ribs, bringing to the surface some of the loudest laughter Nef had ever experienced.

“I REMEMBERED SAHAHAHAHAHAMETHING AHAHAHAHAHA!” Nef couldn’t come up with a better excuse other than that. But there was no way she would ever admit that she was sensitive.

The young lad raised his eyebrows teasingly. He was still wearing a wide grin when he moved his body fastly so that he was now straddling her waist and placed his hands on her waist “Really?! What did you remember, little one?!”

“N-Nohohone of your businehehehess!” Nef was laying there, regaining her breath, some soft leftover giggles leaving her. A wide smile was on her face and her hair was messy. She was recovering but one thing that was for sure was that she wasn’t thinking about what she was saying in between her giggles.

“But why? I wanna laugh too!” Hoseok squeezed her waist only once with the tips of his fingers.

Little did he know was that this squeeze was enough for her the poor girl to let out a scream.

“AGH NAHAHAHAO!” Nef bucked her his in the air and pushed her body upwards so as she could escape but Hoseok’s weight was preventing her from that.

“Wow, I’m barely touching you and you are already screaming! Is this a bad spot?” Hoseok smirked before he did the unexpected. He bent down and started nibbling on the poor girl’s waistline and the spot where the ribs meet the sides.

Nefeli was immediately thrown into hysterics and was shrieking in loud laughter. She was feeling like someone was tasering her with ticklish sensations, making her almost lose her mind “BWAHAHAHAHAHA NAHAHAHAHAT THEAHAHAHAHARE PLEAHAHAHAHASE HOSEAHAHAHAK!”

To be honest, the boy looked a little taken aback by Nef’s reaction. He wasn’t expecting her to react like that. However, the golden new spot he found made him smirk wider than he already was, while Nefeli’s almost hysterical laughter was filling the room, probably annoying everyone around them from how loud it was “Your laughter is my favorite sound, Neffie! I can do this all day!”

A feeling of panic rushed inside her as soon as the lad said that. She knew she wouldn’t last if her older friend kept going for too long.

“NAHAHAHAHAHAO! I’LL DIE!” Nefeli screamed in between her laughter, squealing louder when the boy chuckled on her skin from how hyperbolic the young girl was.

Hoseok’s sharp, front teeth were munching lightly yet fastly on the girl’s skin, sometimes touching her ribs while Nef was only able to lay there and take it. His torso was preventing her from escaping and her attempts to push his head away were doing nothing.

“Y’know I would never let you die, little one!” Hoseok sent her a wide, loving smile before he blew a long raspberry on her side.

If Nefeli could melt, she would completely. He was probably the sweetest person in that house and his smile could make someone’s day. However, at this point, the only thing she was focused on was the torturous sensations of the nonstop raspberries which were furious blows on her tummy and sides.

At the same time, Hoseok was scribbling with his blunt nails on Nefeli’s hips as his toes were softly scratching her soles. Her loud shrieks were filling the air while she was kicking her legs up and down, wiggling side to side while the ticklish sensations were kept going.

“Y’know, it’s so cute how you haven’t said stop this whole time!” Hoseok exclaimed, turning around and scribbling fastly Nef’s sole with his nails, sending her in fits of pure hysterics.

Nefeli’s face flushed deep red while she was trying to kick Hoseok’s fingers away from her with her other foot, only to get it trapped and tickled as well. Well, why would she say stop...? However, Hoseok was the first person who pointed it out and that made her extremely shy.

“STAHAHAHAHAHAP AHAHAHAHAHAHA!” she yelled out of reflex, trying to prove to Hoseok that she wasn’t enjoying this as much as he believed, even tho both of them knew she was lying.

“Now do you reeeeeeally want this to stop? Because I don’t think you do!” Hoseok’s teased as he pulled back Nef’s toes, scribbling their base, making her laughter raise an octave and crystal tears start rolling down her cheeks.

Nefeli was feeling like her entire torso was tingling. Even her palms. Her feet were always a death spot and now that Hoseok is tickling her like that, she feels like she is gonna explode any time soon. Every hair on her body was straight and her back was arched as her toes were being tortured and scribbled unstoppable. The young girl was hitting Hoseok’s back and was thrashing around, screaming in loud, belly laughter. She was trying hard to curl her toes again but it was too hard since his fingers were preventing her.

“Hm... Do you remember that song? La la la laaaa~” Hoseok started playing her toes like piano, occasionally nibbling them. Nefeli let out a higher scream every time she was getting her toes nibbled, slowly losing her mind from how much it tickled.

“HOSEAHAHAHAHAOK PLEAHAHAHAHASE NAHAHAHAHAOT THAHAHAHAHAT AHAHAHAHAHA!” she screamed in laughter, trying to escape, but nothing was working.

“Aw, so you ARE ticklish! That’s adorable!” the young lad pressed tiny, fast kisses all over Nefeli’s foot and on each toe separately, before going back to nibbling.

“BWAHAHAHAHAHA NAHAHAHAHAOT MY FEEHAHAHAHAHAT AHAHAHAHAHA PLEAHAHAHAHASE!” Nef’s voice came out raspy and tired, and after that, she fell into silent laughter.

She was feeling like her lungs were burning and her mouth was stinging from how much she was laughing. Her stomach was aching and her head was spinning around.

“Coochie coochie coo Neffie!” Hoseok pulled her legs higher and nibbled the middle of her soles, making her let out a loud scream and then stop moving at all from how tired she was and how weak her body was at that point.

The boy must have sensed how Nefeli had stopped responding and let the poor girl go, pulling her onto his lap. He kept rubbing delicate circles on her back soothingly, helping her breath come back to its normal and her body relax and recover faster “Okay okay, calm down now, sunshine”

Nefeli leaned her head on Hoseok’s shoulder, while the music from some minutes ago was still playing as a background. She was relaxing under Hoseok’s touch while a smile was still on her face and her legs were brought on her stomach.

“That was sohohoho mean!” she giggled out tiredly, covering her red face.

“Well, I know, but it was fun, wasn’t it?” Hoseok nudged her lightly, making her giggle a little more and blush.

However, she couldn’t help but nod in response. She knew Hoseok had already understood how she enjoyed it, so no point in lying to him.

The young lad chuckled and kissed her cheek, helping her up and shaking her a little “Now let’s go back to dancing, alright? We left a choreo in the middle”

Nefeli chuckled and changed the song, getting ready “Just in case you need to touch my sides again”

Hoseok laughed loudly and got into position, waiting for the lyrics to come up “Ohohokay okay don’t worry, no more tickling. At least for now” he winked.

As the lyrics started coming up, the two friends started dancing, while Hoseok was occasionally poking Nef’s side, making her squeal and giggle. And lemme tell you the boys found the young girl on the floor panting and giggling while Hoseok was poking her tummy.

[sometimesitrytowritethings]

Mountain Man: Part 1

PART 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Reader

Word count: 2.9k

Warnings: Swearing

Summary: You never thought you’d love again. Then Arthur Morgan came into town. Fate continuously has you meeting each other in odd ways, and a troubled past is something you are both familiar with. Perhaps that’s what will make this time different.

Notes: A MASSIVE THANK YOU to @morgans-whore for helping me out with this!!! If you haven’t read their work, please do so immediately. Also goddamn it I WILL figure out how to insert a read more break on mobile if it kills me.

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Smithfield’s Saloon was a bustling, loud mess when you entered, as was typical for a Friday evening in the small town of Valentine. The place was only a couple of years old, fully built from the timber milled in nearby Strawberry and lit by strategically placed oil lamps, giving it a sepia-toned glow that you could bask in all evening. Several tables were scattered about the sparsely-decorated room, a larger one covered in green cloth currently hosting a nightly low-stakes poker game.

You made your way inside, taking off your light jacket since escaping the mild chill in the air and scanned the room, looking for your friends in the crowd. The piano man was playing one of the four songs in his repertoire, The Arkansas Traveller, as Quentin, the barber, swayed slightly in time to the music at his normal post in the back, beer in hand, and speaking to one of the saloon’s regular patrons. Jon, the old drunk, was sitting at his usual table, downing a bottle of whisky and ranting about something or other. After years of enduring his presence, you had finally been able to tune him out. Jedadiah, the bartender, nodded your way as your gaze wandered past him before serving Tommy, who seemed to already be well into his cups, another glass of whisky.

Dozens of other familiar faces were scattered about the room as you scanned it, finally spotting the two women chatting with two unfamiliar men at the end of the bar. After a rather long week working across the street at Saints Hotel, cooking, running baths, cleaning, and washing a couple of particularly unruly patrons, your good friends Anastasia and Margaret had invited you over to their place of work for a few drinks - on the house.

“Evening Anastasia, Margaret,” you call over the din of piano music, clinking glasses, and loud conversations. Anastasia was a freckled, firey redhead who was almost always getting into trouble. As was typical for an evening on the job, her white chemise was pushed down low on her chest, revealing her ample cleavage to entice more of the men into paying for a night with her. Margaret, on the other hand, was of a slimmer build and had lovely dark brown hair, pulled away from her doe-eyed face. She was always ready to flirt with anyone she sees and crack jokes on the regular, which definitely worked on many a man over the course of her career as a working girl. These women were two of the first friends you made when moving to Valentine with your soon-to-be husband almost a decade ago. They had been working at Keane’s back then, the older saloon down the street, but have since moved to the wealthier spot when it opened a few years ago.

They both look toward you and becon you over. “Hey hun, these handsome gentlemen are Javier and Charles. They’ve just come into town, isn’t that right?” Margaret explained, putting her hand on Charles’s bicep and giving it a flirty squeeze as she batted her lashes.

You gave a small snort and glanced over at the men. The one introduced as Charles had long, dark hair, dark skin, and shining brown eyes. He was very obviously an outdoorsman, slightly bulky and built for spending time in nature, wearing a tattered light blue shirt cinched at the hips by a gun belt. He nodded at you, but said nothing and took a sip of his whisky, eyeing you over the rim of the glass. Javier, on the other hand, took your hand from across the corner of the bar and gave it a quick kiss. Also dark-haired, his was cut significantly shorter and tied in a ponytail at the nape of his neck, Javier was slightly leaner than his companion, and was dressed in finer clothes - a charmer, no doubt.

They were both very handsome men, indeed, but you recognized Margaret’s tactic from a mile away: butter up the new ones with enough complements, keep them well in their liquor, and they’ll be coming back to you every night for their entire stay. You raised a hand to the bartender, ordering a round of whisky for the group.

“Why thank you, Mariposa,” crooned Javier, picking up the drink and nodding at you over the rim of the cup.

You laughed. “No need to try that with me, I don’t work here,” you teased, raising your glass to him before taking a long drink of your whisky. Jedadiah has given you the higher-quality bottle this time - good. Javier let out a laugh and went back to speaking with Anastasia, leaving you to sip your drink in silence for the time being. The slight burning sensation warmed your throat and then worked its way down to your belly, easing away the stress of the previous week. There really was nothing like a good glass to take the edge off.

As you finished your first drink, the door to the saloon suddenly swung open, drawing the attention of your companions. All four turned to face the new patron, the women leaning against the bar as the two men moved to greet their friend.

“Oh! Arthur!” called Charles, waving his hand towards the bar to summon him over.

“Arthur, come here, come here! Come over here! I want you to meet our friends.” Javier called and moved from the bar to smack his friend on the back. You turned as well, leaning your right side against the bar, drink still in hand, and taking in the handsome new patron.

He was average height, but bulkier than his friends - a powerhouse made of pure muscle. You were sure he could break you in half if you let him. His light brown hair was brushed haphazardly away from his face, which was slightly tanned from days spent in the sun. As you slowly dragged your eyes across his face you noticed two small scars on his chin, where his beard wouldn’t grow. His eyes, an alarming shade of teal, narrowed as he looked over your group, like something was missing.

“Pleased to meet ya,” he drawled, his voice deep and husky, likely from the combination of years on the road and smoking plenty of tobacco. His hands went to his hips, and he looped his fingers through his belt, looking around the room.

Anastasia seemed awestruck and was ready to dive in and cause plenty of trouble to get this man’s attention. The other two could wait for now. “Well ain’t you just the tough as teak mountain man?” she flirted, leaning against the counter and pushing out her chest so her bust was closer to eye-level.

“Oh, you be quiet Anastasia,” Margaret chided, also wanting a bite of the newcomer. “Anyone can tell this one is a pussy cat.” There it was. Margaret had tried one of her usual godawful jokes that somehow seemed to land her a client every time, and you tried your best not to laugh. Instead, you raised your glass to your lips, only to find it empty.

“Exactly!” Javier cut in. You turned to Jeb and held up your empty glass, which he promptly came over to refill. “He’s a pussy… cat. Ain’t that so, Arthur?” This time you did laugh, a very loud and uncomfortable snort that you couldn’t stop if you had tried.

You drew your refilled glass quickly to your lips, trying your best to cover for yourself. The new man glanced your way shortly before turning back to the other two women. If anyone else had noticed, they didn’t say anything.

The new man, Arthur, stepped a little closer to the group, looking your friends up and down. “How much you cost anyway?”

Anastasia, for some reason seemed genuinely offended, shock immediately overtaking her face. “Well ain’t that a nice way to talk to a lady?” she snapped, though you weren’t sure why. She was a prostitute after all.

Arthur leaned closer, an almost manic grin on his face. “Oh, I didn’t know I was talking to a lady…” he teased. You immediately knew what he was up to. He needed his friends alone, and didn’t have the decency to just ask. Luckily, two could play at his game.

Anastasia balked. Sure, she wasn’t a ‘lady’ like those rich women in New York or San Denis, but she deserved at least a modicum of respect. She scoffed angrily and walked off with a grumbled, “excuse me,” pushing her way past the man, before glancing back at you to see if you were coming. You nodded, you’d be with them in a second. There was no need to stay in the bar and drink, you had plenty of liquor back at home. But before you leave, you may as well get the last word with the man who had, surprisingly accurately, insulted your friends.

“Oh, it’s alright, Anastasia,” you called after her, staying in position at the corner of the bar. You pointedly looked Arthur up and down before speaking again. “This one couldn’t afford one of us anyway,” you tossed at him with a wink over the rim of your glass. Keeping your eyes locked on his, you slowly took a drink.

Like a predator preparing to pounce on its prey, he moved slowly toward you, sizing you up. “That so?” he drawled, slowly dragging his eyes from where your feet were crossed at the hem of your skirt, to your hips leaning against the side of the bar, to your chest, where he paused for just a moment.

“Oh, most definitely,” was your response, accompanied by a practiced smirk. You may not have been a working girl in the saloon, but your years offering deluxe baths at the hotel across the street had given you more than enough practice at charming men. Even ruggedly handsome men who were likely to make you weak in the knees like this one.

His eyes snapped back up to yours as you spoke, a matching smirk gracing his lips. “Why don’t we see about that?” he teased, reaching for what you presumed was money in his satchel. If you had thought his voice was husky before, it was nothing in comparison to how it sounded now. Sultry, eager.

Before you could even begin to think of a response, you heard your name being called by Anastasia, who was standing impatiently at the door with Margaret at her side. “Are you coming?”

You felt the heat rise to your face as soon as the moment was over, but magically kept your composure. “Sorry, it turns out that my shift just ended,” you hummed, reaching up to straighten out his collar. Your fingers lightly brushed his skin and you swore he tensed and took in a sharp breath in that moment. Next, you gave him a light pat on the shoulder and started to walk away. You only had to remember not to look back.

Hips swaying, you headed towards the door, stopping briefly to grab your jacket from the coat hook along the way. “See you around, gentlemen,” you called, swinging the door open and stepping out into the cool night air, feeling his eyes on you the entire time. Perfect.

Anastasia and Margaret followed you out in a huff, brushing past another stranger who was staggering up the steps and into the saloon.

The walk back to the local boarding house, where you had been staying with your son for the past few years, was luckily a short one. However, almost the entire 10 minutes were filled with complaints from the other two women about the “uncivilised” and “incredibly rude” man, effectively ruining any hopes you had of continuing a fun evening with your friends.

“It’s such a surprise that he’s friends with those other two. They just seem so sweet, and he’s such a… such a brute!” ranted Anastasia, looking from Margaret to you for confirmation. “He’s got those ruggedly handsome looks, sure but, by god! How dare he talk to me like that! Can you even believe it?”

You wanted to laugh, but held it in. Your friend was already upset, there was no need to make it worse. Luckily, before you needed to say anything, Margaret cut in. “I know! What was he thinkin’? Even insinuatin’ you wasn’t a lady! You are the most ladylike woman in this town, Anastasia,” she rattled on, wrapping an arm around her friend’s shoulders.

You did the same out of solidarity and played with a strand of her red hair. The three of you walked further, arms around Anastasisa’s shoulders. “He just wanted to get his friends alone, you know,” you told her after a few minutes of her angry silence, before moving your hand and squeezing her shoulder comfortingly. “He only said those things because he knows you two already had his friends wrapped around your fingers and they certainly weren’t about to leave,” you further elaborated with a wink to the redhead. Who knows if that was true, but it would most definitely make Anastasia feel better.

She sighed, her shoulders shrugging, and looked wistfully in the distance. “Yeah, I s’pose you’re right,” came her response. “We did have them on the hook pretty quick, didn’t we?”

“Oh, absolutely!” chimed in Margaret with excitement as you reached the large blue house on the outskirts of town. You glanced quickly to the second floor, and spotted your window. It was dark inside. “And it’ll be real easy to reel them in again tomorrow.”

The three of you burst into a fit of giggles as you reached the front porch. You dropped your arm from Anastasia’s shoulders and gave both women hug. “I think Ben is asleep, so I may turn in as well, if you two don’t mind.” The both nodded and hugged you back, saying quiet farewells and making their way further down the dirt road to their own homes.

The door opened with a slight creek as you stepped inside the dark house. It was a rather large house for this area, meant to house several farmworkers at the time it was built. Since then, a hotel and several other larger homes have popped up closer to town, leaving this one nearly empty most of the time. You rented a decent sized room on the second floor, and had done so for nearly five years running. It wasn’t luxury accommodation by any means, but it was away from the hustle and bustle of town, and it was more than affordable on your meager salary. Not to mention, the landlady had been a good friend of your late mother-in-law, and had been happy to offer your family a place to stay at a decent price, in exchange for occasional work around the house. Quietly, stepping over the floorboard that you knew let out a loud squeak when moved, you shrugged off your jacket, listening for the sounds of small footsteps pattering about on the second floor. Nothing.

What you did hear, however, were the sounds of a conversation coming from the kitchen. You walked down the dimly lit hallway to the room, where you found your landlady sitting at the table with a stranger. Your landlady, Ms. Chadwick, an older woman with a perpetually frustrated look on her face, sat in her nightgown, nursing a cup of hot coffee while the stranger looked over a piece of paper that had been laid in front of her on the table.

She was a pretty woman, about the same age as yourself, with dark brown hair neatly plaited down her back and clear, tanned skin, that almost glowed in the lamplight. Her clothes were obviously expensive and well cared for, and a pair of small, matching suitcases sat at her feet. Her nimble fingers with clean, neatly trimmed nails skimmed over the short paragraph on the paper. This was very obviously a woman who had never worked a day in her life. What on earth was she doing in Valentine, of all places?

“Thank you very much for the use of the spare room,” she said to the landlady, her voice boasted a light southern accent, like that of the debutantes in San Denis. “Your home is lovely, and little Ben is an absolute darling. I do so love staying in homes instead of hotels when I can and, of course, I am happy to help out where I can while I am here.”

“Oh no, that’s not necessary dear,” she chided. “Your pay is more than enough. Please relax and enjoy your time here as much as you can. You don’t need any more stress on your shoulders.”

As Ms. Chadwick finished her sentence, the stranger seemed to notice your appearance in the doorway. “Oh!” she exclaimed, though keeping her voice down slightly. “You must be Ben’s mother! It’s wonderful to meet you. Your son and Ms. Chadwick greeted me this afternoon when I arrived, he’s a lovely little boy.” She stood up from her chair, skirts billowing around her ankles, and reached out to kiss both of your cheeks in what you had heard was a customary French greeting.

Although you were slightly taken aback by her forward attitude, the comment about your son brought a smile to your face. “Thank you very much. I like to think I’ve taught him well so far,” your responded, pulling slightly away from the new woman and introducing yourself.

“It’s very nice to meet you,” she said, voice sweet and still low enough as to not wake your son, sleeping soundly upstairs. “I’m Mary Linton.”

[nincompoopydoo]

If you take requests for Jack Thompson / reader still, could you please write one where the reader is one of Peggy's friends who happens to be a very flirty aviatrix and knows allllll about Jack from what Peggy's told her so he tries to convince her otherwise?? Lots of flustered Jack cause he's a baby boy and I love him so much okay thank :))) if you dont write it no worries!! Dont stress yourself out boo 😘

CALL ME TRIXIE

PAIRING: Jack Thompson x reader

WORD COUNT: 1805

A/N: I’m so sorry I took so long to write this! As you can see I got a little too inspired and it’s one of the rare times my “one shots” exceeds the 1000 word norm. I absolutely love this concept, so thank you nonnie! I hope I’ve done it a little justice.

PROMPT:

“Nice slap.”

“Kinda hurt”

“Want me to kiss it better?”

WARNING: Like one swear word

MASTERLIST

The corridor is small, dimly lit and sketchy looking. A corridor that went on forever. The facility was an underground base used during the war; he could tell by its heavy security, thick steel doors with locks that were purely meant to keep anything and everything out. It was surely once occupied by military intelligence. The narrow corridors remind him of his time at the navy, respectfully greeting senior officers through passages similar to this. 

Forcefully shoving his navy days to the back of his mind, Jack shifts his gaze towards Peggy momentarily, striding by her side; she keeps her head forward, chin up, heels clicking with confidence. “Who’s the pilot?” he draws out coyly. Her gaze finally lands on his, an eyebrow raised.. “You’ll see her in a while.”

Her? Jack was certainly not expecting that. 

What seemed to be a hundred yard walk in, passing doorway after doorway, the two agents finally met an entrance, huge steel doors but bigger than the ones before, leading towards a somewhat wider space. He can tell it’s an aircraft hangar,  dimly lit, sketchy and there’s a damp scent coursing through the air. It sends nerves throughout his body, unusual to Jack. 

The air began to feel tense and Peggy seems to sense this, turning to him once more with an assuring look. Jack merely nods; for the first time, he wants to put his full trust on her. There was an unspoken agreement between the two, an understanding that it was only possible for this mission to turn out successful if they worked in tandem. As a team.

Moving through the steel doors, the pair emerged into a vast aircraft hangar. The structure was empty, clearly abandoned after the end of the war; like a hollowed out steel turtle shell. In the far corner, the sight of a single magnificent flying machine, an ivory jet glowing in all of its glory. He hasn’t seen one in awhile. 

By the nose of the aircraft, stood a figure, a lady in particular. You wore a leather jacket, flight helmet in hand as you waved blissfully. Your smile was particularly warm under the fluorescent glow of the hangar’s interior. Bright-eyed lady with a pretty smile, you were certainly something else.

“Hiya, Pegs.” your voice rang and echoed through the hollows of the empty hangar, once they neared the fly girl. Peggy grins at you, saying your name in a wistful manner; it’s apparent the two of you were close. You hadn’t seen each other since VE day. 

Wanting to desperately bring your dear friend into an embrace, you push that thought away for the sake of professionalism. Taking notice of the blonde man who was lurking just a little behind your best friend, you recognize him as Agent Jack Thompson. A cocky and ignorant man he was. His gaze was stoic yet it shone with curiosity and suspicion.

“So, this is the famous Jack Thompson.” 

“He sure is.”

Jack eyes the two women as he began to feel a little smaller by the second under your lingering shameless gaze. He arched a brow as he watched the growing smirk upon your lips.

“Well, at least the view is nice,” you say slyly with bright eyes still on him and his knees nearly gave out there and then. 

Peggy lets out a strangled short laugh, starting him by your sudden forwardness; it sends his cheeks into a rosy shade of red. Sure, Jack has met women who were forward when flirting yet you were so much more different than any woman he’d ever met. He coughs a little, clearing his throat. He was certainly caught off-guard. He really doesn’t know why you’re making him feel this way. 

As you watched him regain his composure, you reached out your free hand. “The name’s Y/N but you can call me Trixie. The fly boys used to call me just that.”

Jack merely cocks an eyebrow, eyes shifting between your beaming face and your outstretched hand before finally taking yours in his. Your grip was firm, palm rough and the mere feeling of your touch does something to him. Jack admits he has a soft spot for pretty women like you; confident, tough and a little disheveled and to think you were going to accompany him on this mission alone, you might as well be the death of him. 

~

“You nearly got us killed,” you hear him say exasperatedly and you want to strangle him. He was certainly not helping with the situation. “Well, at least we're alive aren’t we?” you snapped back with annoyance, teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you lifted the cowling of the plane, fully expecting the sight of a smoked and wrecked engine. To which you were unfortunately right; clouds of smoke began to arise from the whirring engine, filling your lungs. Quick coughs began to erupt, escaping from your lips as you stumbled back in your step, turning towards Jack who shot you a bewildered and slightly mortified look. 

Cute, but mostly annoyingly charming.

“Looks like the engine’s busted,” you mumble under your breath, poking your closer to the engine with furrowed eyebrows. This was certainly not the first time the jet had broken down since the war yet it had seen better days. It doesn’t help that the two of you are alone, stranded in an empty field in Wyoming. Your eyes flickered momentarily towards the trail of flattened grass from the hurried landing as the plane skidded across the field, heart sinking at the thought of the possibility of not being able to fly legally any longer once the SSR finds out about this accident. Then, you hear Jack nearing you, voice raised and you want to roll your eyes. “Busted? Jesus fucking Christ, I did not sign up for this. We’re stuck-”

“Hey, sweetcheeks,” you snapped, eyes burning at him in sheer annoyance. They were pretty. You’re nearing him now, cheeks stained with black smudges. You smell nice, and smoky. “Neither did I. So, quit whining and help me get a screwdriver from the cockpit, would ya?” you said crisply and Jack gulps, stomach flipping in a somewhat pleasant way. And his cheeks are turning crimson when he realizes that you just called him sweetcheeks; his mother used to call him that. He watches you cock an eyebrow, hands now on your hips. Right, he hasn’t said anything yet. “You’re kind of scary, you know?”

Your glare softens at his response and before you know it, a sudden and welcome peal of laughter erupts from you, the widest smile upon your lips. He finds himself naturally drawn to your smile, now beaming down at you. “I’ll take that as a compliment,” you say smoothly, reaching out to nudge him with your fisted hand. “But I really do need you to get that screwdriver while I take care of this baby’s engine,” You winked, wiping your forehand against the smudge on your right cheek and he feels his heart stutter. Jack feels like a schoolboy and he isn’t sure what to make out of it.

Yet, you’re bright and beautiful and he really doesn’t mind it.

~

With a turn of the ignition, the whirring sound of the ivory jet beginning to come alive echoes through the green fields; a painful sound to your ears as the engine fails to start after three consecutive hours of poking at a hunk of mess and metal. With a sigh, you climbed out of the cockpit.

“Maybe, it needs a kick for a head start,” you hear Jack say sheepishly from behind. You turned to him quizzically, an eyebrow raised. “Kick?” 

He shrugged, rather nonchalantly, shoving his hands into the pockets of his slacks. “More of a slap.”

A dry laugh escapes your lips as you begin to shake your head in denial. “Uh, I don’t think so, sweetie. No one’s going to be kicking or slapping this baby here- HEY!” you crowed at the sudden sight of Jack sprinting towards the nose of the plane, palms smacked hard against the cowling and your heart nearly shatters.

Then, you hear the lovely whirring sound of the engine.

You stare at the jet for a moment, hands on hips with a hint of a smile upon your lips. You never knew that would work.

“Nice slap,” you breathed, sheer relief coursing through your body. Your gaze now on him as you watch him busily caress his right palm. “Kinda hurt,” there’s a slight scowl on his lips, your grin widens. “Want me to kiss it better?” wide eyes snapped up to yours, cheeks burning red and clearly flustered. You want to laugh. 

After a few moments of Jack trying to keep a steady breath whilst figuring out what to do with his hands, he finally decides to shove them in his pockets once more. He clears his throat, expression neutral yet you caught a hint of a small smile. ”Your welcome.”

It was your turn to blush.

~

Wind in your hair, you smile at the sight of Peggy making her towards you. She waves as you try to smooth down your now tousled hair. “So, I’m assuming he was somewhat tolerable since he is in fact very much alive,” the woman says calmly, a smile playing upon her lips. You let out a small chuckle, clutching your leather flying helmet tighter towards your chest. “He wasn’t so bad,” you mutter, eyes skirting across the expense of the abandoned hangar where a scatter of SSR agents stood by their Fords. You see Jack, golden hair shimmering in the low light as the sun began to set, hands in his pockets as he spoke to another agent with an elbow crutch. You’re assuming that was Daniel Sousa, the one Peggy talked about often enough for you to know she was downright in love with the man yet refuses to admit it. 

His blue eyes met your gaze as soon as he turned around, hand in the air as he waved with a smile so genuine you were afraid you’d never see that from a man like him. Jack was so serious for the majority of the time you’d spent with him yet his usual cold demeanor was no were to be seen at that very moment. You hesitantly wave back, flashing a small smile. Despite the distance, you’d managed to catch on the wink he’d sent you before turning on his heel as Jack casually walked away. Peggy on the other hand has an eyebrow raised as her gaze shifts between her colleague and her best friend. The gesture was enough to send your cheeks into a rosy shade of red. For the first time in a long time, your heart leaps in a way you never thought it would. 

[the-awkward-outlaw]

Hi!! Could you write about Arthur and reader getting caught in the act by, idk Abigail or Hosea?? It sounds so weird I know but my mind has gone curious during quarantine:)

This one turned out really hot, I almost forgot about them getting busted. I’m sure it’s super obvious. Happy reading, Anon!

(Chose this picture because he is sexy as hell!) 

Warnings: smut, can... can y’all hear me? No? Okay, SMUT!

It’s just past noon and it’s already been a long day. You’ve been stuck in camp all day, courtesy of Susan Grimshaw. She went off on you last night for spending too many days outside of camp, hunting and scouting with Arthur. She claimed you weren’t helping enough in camp, so she said if you left for the next three days, she’d butcher you. 

You didn’t take her seriously, of course, but you knew if you didn’t at least somewhat obey her, she could get very nasty. You sigh heavily as you rub your fingers raw on the washboard, scrubbing another dirty shirt. You don’t mind being stuck in camp, Horseshoe Overlook is a beautiful place. You also definitely don’t regret going out with Arthur so much lately. 

The two of you have been having a secret relationship for weeks. He just isn’t ready to reveal it yet to the gang, as most of them still think he’s quietly in love with Mary. You were worried about that too until he got that letter from her just before your last outing and he took you with him to see her just so he could tell her to forget about him and leave him alone, that he wasn’t her errand boy. 

Arthur’s a sweet man hidden beneath a rough exterior. You’ve never known anyone like him. He’s strong and fierce enough to protect you, but he’s also gentle and thoughtful. One of his first gifts to you was a drawing he’d done of your favorite flower, as he’d seen you picking them. You told him how much you loved the drawing and ever since he’s given you a dozen more. 

You go out hunting with him a lot, and while you do a lot of hunting, you also use the time away from camp as an opportunity to be intimate with the outlaw. Not just sex either, though that frequently happens, but to just hold him and feel his arms wrap around you, for you both to be open and tell each other your thoughts. Despite the short amount of time you’ve been together, the two of you have already become extremely close. Of course, you were friends long before you were lovers, so it’s really not surprising. 

The one thing you regret about the last hunting trip is that you didn’t make love to Arthur. Not that you wouldn’t if he asked, he just didn’t and you weren’t in the mood to initiate. Now though, something’s gotten to you and you can’t stop thinking about sex. You’re a bit uncomfortable, even now, as you feel like you just need a good round with Arthur to settle you down. He’s not in camp though, he left this morning to collect a debt from a woman named Lily Millet. You hate his debt collecting, maybe you’ll convince him to stop doing them. You know how much he hates it. 

As the day continues, you only get more riled up and anxious. You can’t stop your mind from wandering to previous encounters with Arthur, especially that one day in Colter. You’d both been cold and stiff, and Arthur came up with the idea to use a small shed on the outskirts of the town to warm up. Despite the freezing temperatures, you two could have melted the snow in the whole town with what you did to each other. The memory of it doesn’t help you settle down now, it only seems to make it worse in fact. 

You thought about taking a ride on your horse, but it wasn’t just the thought that Grimshaw might skin you that prevented you from doing so. If you go anywhere with that much bouncing, it’ll be agony, especially since there won’t be any penetration. You think about maybe going into your tent or by the river and taking care of yourself, but somehow you know it just won’t be enough. You need him. 

Arthur returns not too long after you finish the laundry, which is surprising. That pile never seems to shrink. You watch him go and greet Hosea, praying he’ll make his way over to you. You’re sure he will, he always does. You wipe your sweating hands on your jeans, antsy for him. He’s talking to Hosea for too long. He needs to get his ass over to you. 

Finally, you see him do his cute two-finger salute in farewell to Hosea and make his way over to you. You’re standing just behind his tented wagon, which is out of eyesight from the others. At least it’ll make good cover for you to try and convince him to help you out. As soon as he’s within feet of you, you leap on him, attacking his mouth with yours. 

He chuckles against your lips and then pulls you away. “Hey, darlin’. What’s gotten into ya?” 

“I need you, Arthur.”

“Need me for what?” You can’t tell if he’s playing coy or not and it’s infuriating. 

“I need you,” you say. You’re not really sure how to say what you need so you make sure no one is able to see the two of you and then you get closer to him and squeeze the bulge of his pants. He quickly sucks in his breath, his hand tightening on your back. 

“Oh,” he says, finally clicking in. He looks around. “Well, we can go to town, get a room-”

You shake your head and explain the problem with Grimshaw. He rubs his chin and looks around again. “Tent ain’t gonna work at this time of day.” His eyes wander over in the direction of the river. “Come on, I think I know a place.” 

He leads you off into the trees. Once you’re not in sight of the others, he grabs your hand and walks faster. You’re shaking now, anticipating what’s about to happen. He takes you to the bottom of the hill, far enough away from camp that you won’t be heard and out of sight of the trail running by the river. 

He finds a little nook in the vegetation, clear of rocks, and then he pins you against a tree. 

“So you need me, huh?” he growls in your ear, his breath hot in your neck. 

“Please, Arthur,” you say desperately. 

He chuckles in your ear and starts kissing your neck. You tilt your head back, knowing you’re soaking your undergarments already. His hands slide down your back and to your front, undoing your belt and pants. He doesn’t even hesitate and rips your pants down, helping you step out of them. You can feel the goosebumps on your legs, and it’s unclear if they’re from the cool air or if it’s from him staring at your patch of hair as he kneels down. You wonder if he can see how wet you are. 

He stands up and kisses you again, your hand going to his shoulder. His hands settle on your hips, but then one goes to his pants and he whips his length out. It’s only semi hard, so you start moving your hand towards him. He stops you by sliding a hand through your fold, making you gasp. God, you’ve needed that stimulation. Already, you feel a bit weak in the legs and he hasn’t even started yet. 

“Damn, you’re wet. That for me?” he grunts in your ear. 

You’re breathing hard. “Oh, Arthur. Please.” 

He laughs softly in your ear and he slides a finger through your folds again. He’s teasing you; he knows that you need more pressure and more friction there. 

“Arthur,” you whine. He smiles mischievously and then he starts pumping himself, his length growing harder. The vein running down his cock becomes more prominent as it grows stiffer. You start to drool a bit. 

When he’s erect, he closes the distance between you, grabs your knee and wraps your leg around his waist. You groan as he does, and then he slides his firm cock into your opening, spreading your walls. 

“God,” you groan. “Oh God.” 

He kisses your neck and pushes himself as deep as he can. He sits inside you for a few seconds and then finally, gratefully, he pulls himself out a bit and then slams himself back in. He begins bucking, finally helping you to satisfy that craving. One of his arms is firmly wrapped around your back, pinning you to him so he can fuck you as hard as he can manage in this position, while the other hand moves from your knee to your rear, squeezing the cushioned flesh. 

“Arthur,” you groan, “deeper.” 

“Damn, girl,” he says. There’s only one way he can perform your request. He pulls out long enough that he can lay you down into the grass on your back. Then he spreads your legs, gazing at your pussy. His eyes go up to yours and he smiles. Without warning, he shoves himself back into you, making you moan. 

As he thrusts, you lift your hips up to give him a better angle and he goes into you all the way to his girth. His head brushes your spot and then he decides to end you by sliding his hand into your folds, rubbing your swollen nub. It takes only seconds of him brushing it and you’re gone, your toes curling as you dig your fingernails into his back. 

“Arthur!” you squeak, trying not to scream. He chuckles, still kissing your neck as he chases his own release. 

As you pant beneath him, you don’t hear the telling signs of someone approaching until you hear them muttering. 

“Damn fool of a man. Can hardly call himself a man! Worst mistake I ever made!” 

You slap Arthur’s back, trying to get his attention to the approaching audience, but he doesn’t seem to hear them as he pushes himself in and out of you. 

“Arthur!” you say with gritted teeth. 

The voice is getting louder and still Arthur isn’t stopping. His hand even goes up your shirt and squeezes your breast. 

“Arthur, someone’s coming!” you whine. 

“What?” he says, pausing just long enough and you can hear footsteps. 

Before he can pull out and the two of you can arrange yourselves into innocent positions, Abigail comes into view. Your stomach drops, but she isn’t faced in your direction. You and Arthur are in full view to her and there’s nothing you can use to cover your joined hips. You just have to hope that she heads off and doesn’t hear you. 

Her back’s to you and she glares off into the distance. You and Arthur watch her with baited breath. Arthur starts reaching over to a bush to try and grab a thick branch to try and cover yourselves. He’s going to make too much noise, you know it. Before you can hiss in his ear to not do it, he grabs it and inevitably, the leaves shake and hiss. 

Abigail, attracted to the noise, turns and her eyes land right on you two. “Oh God!” she screeches, turning away and clapping her hands over her eyes. Arthur quickly pulls himself off you and covers your legs as much as he can with your jeans, stuffing himself back into his pants. 

“Abigail!” you gasp. “I’m so sorry! We didn’t think we’d get caught out here!” 

You see her shake her head, her hand still over her eyes. “Sorry I came this way. John and I… I needed to get away from him.” She starts going back up towards camp, her face red. 

“Shit,” you say. You didn’t even have the chance to ask her not to tell anyone. Arthur puts his hand back on your hips. 

“You mind if we finish?” he asks after a minute. You know it’s foolish to do what he wants, but he deserves his release. You look up at him, slide your pants off your bare legs and then shove him. He falls onto his back and you grab his pants, ripping them down. His cock immediately points up as he smiles at you. You slide your hips over his, sliding him into you and sinking onto him. 

As he begins bucking again, you reach down to him and rip his shirt open. You stroke his chest, it’s firm and hairy in just the right places. You run your fingers over his left nipple and his hands squeeze your hips. He’s getting close, but he’s staring at you hard, almost as though disappointed. 

“What?” you ask, panting from his actions. 

“We seem a little uneven, don’t we?” he says, gesturing to your shirt. 

“Arthur, we’ve already been caught! We need to hurry this up and do some damage control.” 

“All the more reason. I’ll go faster.” 

You smile, kind of turned on by the idea that someone might see. You’ve never been into having an audience, but when it comes to having sex with Arthur, you don’t care the circumstance. You unbutton your shirt and then lift up your chemise, exposing your bouncing breasts. You take them both off, not caring that you’re completely naked now. His hands reach up and stroke your nipples. He starts thrusting harder and faster in response. He’s going so hard that you can feel yourself building up for a second release. 

Suddenly he thrusts himself hard up into you, his cock shooting his seed into you. He pushes himself into you once, twice more and then pulls his softening length out. 

“Arthur, I’m… I’m not done,” you groan. 

“Thought you wanted to do damage control?” he teases. 

“Just quickly, please. I can’t wait.” 

He sits up a bit, keeping you on his lap. One arm tightens around your back while the other hand slides up into your folds. He starts rubbing your clit and his lips go to your nipple, sucking on it. You start grinding against his hand and he shoves two fingers into your clit. His thumb stays on your clit, pushing it and rubbing it raw. His tongue massages your nipple, his teeth grazing the firm nub. 

“Arthur!” you hiss, your hands winding into his hair and pulling it a bit. His hand in your slit starts moving faster in response, building you up. A bubble of heat starts in the bottom of your ribs and then slides down to your hips. He rubs your clit again and then the bubble moves down to your opening and bursts. You push your hips against his hand and you tilt your head back, scratching his shoulders. 

You’re panting hard when you finally come back down. Arthur slips your nipple from his lips and kisses you on the lips. 

“That enough for now, girl?” he asks. 

You nod. “For now. But I’m sure I’ll need this again tonight.” 

He grins and kisses you again. “We can do that.” 

You both get up and get yourself dressed. You dry yourself off with some harmless leaves. You and Arthur walk back up to camp, releasing your entwined hands when you get into view. You have to find Abigail. 

It doesn’t take long to find her. She’s sitting near John’s tent, Jack playing nearby. 

“Abigail, can we talk about… what you saw?” you ask, your face turning red. She grins up at you. 

“I thought you and Arthur were together. Just didn’t think you were that far along.” 

You sit down on the crate next to hers, making sure no one can overhear you. “Yeah, I just… needed some help. You know how it is.”

She just grins. 

“You won’t tell anyone, will you?” you ask, holding your breath. 

“Course not. But when camp ends up with another Jack, it’s going to become horribly obvious.” She winks at you.  

[caysophia]

Danielle Moonstar x Reader (f)

Y/n pov

I walked down one of the many hallways in this place, Passing the dorm hall. I looked down, hearing footsteps echo to a room. It was Reyes and girl, she was in the light blue clothes everyone is put in when they come here. Reyes opened a door and they walked in.

"new girl... wow," I said to myself and walked to the common rooms to go tell the others. We haven't gotten anyone new since Roberto, and that was a while ago. I wonder what her power is? why is she here though, she must have done something bad...

I walked into the common room, Rahne watching a movie on the old Philips TV, Illyana doing the same. Sam and Roberto were playing a round of Foosball. I tapped on the door and walked through "Hey!" I greeted and elbowed Sam's back, not as hard as to hurt him. Roberto nodded, focusing on the game. Illyana looked from behind the couch "Hey Copycat." with a laugh. Illyana isn't that bad, she's just scared. Rahne waved not looking up from the TV.

"Whatcha doing?" I heard Sam ask, I turned to him "I don't know." and jumped on the couch "Eh! We gotta new gal." That caught Rahane's attention "eah just came in. Probable 2 days ago. She just woke up." and turned around.

"I wonder if she'll be a group?" I questioned "Probably, I would think" Sam answered stopping the game "I wonder whys she here? We haven't gotten anyone new, or well since I came. At Least." Roberto asked the foosball game now over. I shrugged "I wonder what her powers are?" Illyana asked.

" I don't know but, we'll find out soon. I0 think, Faster then Roberto's, that's for sure." I said in a teasing tone, Roberto scoffed " Yeah ok, printer." I gasped and started laughing "That's not even good! that's trash dude, try again." Rahne chuckled turning off the TV, and cleared her throat "We have group soon, we should get ready." and stood up, I waved to her as she left.

I'm going to go take a shower, see ya." Roberto said leaving the room as well, the same thing with Illyana. I and Sam said goodbye to both of them. I leaned forwards putting my arms on my knees, Cracking my knuckles "this shit sucks."

"I know." sam said with a groan, falling to the chair on the side of the room.

3rd person, group

" Rahne why don't you go first, tell us about the time you first changed." Reyes started turning towards Rahne"I-' she was cut off as the door opened and in walked a girl with flannel on. Her hair was short, about to her shoulders and kinda wavy.

"This is Danielle Moonstar."Reyes start "For real?" Roberto laughed, Reyes glared at him "Oh, you're serious." Y/n gave a little chuckle to his stupidity, " you can sit right there." Reyes said pointing to the empty chair next to sam.  Reyes smiled at Rahne " Continue." Rahne nodded and started to tell her story again.

Y/n sunk into her chair, she pulled her hat down covering a little bit of her face. She couldn't stop looking over at the new girl, Danielle. the way her hair fell on her shoulders, in such pretty waves. Y/n jumped hearing Illyana yell " I'm done." she stood up throwing her jacket over the shoulder "wonderful, can you show Danielle around. since your up." Reyes asked her with a smile, Illyana argued with her. Giving in and leaving the room with her.

The session finished about 15 minutes after.

Danielle's POV

I and then stood up from the table we were eating at "Who are these people?" I asked, I don't know anyone names. Rahne smiled at me "Ok, That is Y/n and Sam." Rahne pointed " They are twins. Both are really smart if you have a question about really anything. Go to them."   The two looked up 'they looked like twins.' i thought to myself Y/n smiled before looking back down at a notebook.

"that's Illyana, she's kinda crazy. Y/n and she are friends, they are quite close. connected right away. So watch out if you mess with one of them." Rahne gave a small chuckle to me "Okay, got it." I laughed "but don't worry Y/n is nice, just like sam. she's one of the 'goodies'."

We walked up to a guy with headphones on "This is Roberto." He smiled "New girl, Puppy." and took our trays.

I looked at Rahne "That's everyone?" she nodded "Yup, Sam and Y/n Guthrie, Illyana Rasputin, and Roberto da Casto. That's everyone. And Dr.Reyes, of course." we both laughed, I looked around the room one more time before Rahne and I left. Y/n was looking in our direction, I gave her a small wave and a smile. She nodded her hat and turned around.

3rd person

A few days later

Illyana, Roberto, Sam, and y/n ran past Dani's room "What are you guys doing?" Rahne asked, "Attic, you coming?" Y/n asked before turning "No, the new girl isn't invited." Illyana stated, in a stern tone. "come on, both of you." Sam gestured and the group continued their walk to the attic.

"Is this where you guys hang out?" Dani asked, looking around the old room "Yeah, its got stuff here from before this was for mutants." Y/n stated, her accent sounding like Sams but for the feminine. Y/n sat next to sam, as he sat on a stool.

Illyana grabbed a silver briefcase "what's that?" Danielle asked "Lie detector test." Roberto answered as he sat in the chair. Rahne hooked him up and sat down next to the machine "Dare." Roberto states "You cant ask dare." Illyana said in a smartass tone "Fine, truth."

Sam looked around "How many girls you been with." he said with a smirk "I can't even count how many." Roberto said with a smirk, Rahne shook her head "Lie." y/n laughed "how many?"

Roberto cleared his throat "three." sam nodded "that's not bad." Illyana looked at Rahne "Lie." Y/n laughed and looked at him "Why?" Dani looked at her, she sat with her elbows on her knees. She looked like a prison interrogator "I get too hot..." Roberto said getting out of the chair "sam your turn."

Sam got up and sat in the chair "Fine." Rahne hooked him up, Dani cooked her head "What's up with the piece of coal?" Sam looked up " My dad, he gave it to me before he passed." he looked down, Y/n cleared her throat "Yoy got your question, up." Illyana said standing up from her seat and getting in the chair "Well hurry up." she said to rahne, she muttered an 'ok'

"Why are you here?" Dani spoke up, y/n chuckled "I killed 18 men... one by one, with my sword and Lockheed." Illyana stated looking directly at Danielle "shes telling the truth, the line is flat." Roberto stated.

"Your turn, Y/n. Don't think we forgot about you." Roberto smirked, y/n stood up fixing her sleeve "Oh really now? ok." she grabbed the stuff from Illyana and sat down, hooking her self up.

"What's your power?" Danielle asked "Energy blasting and Channeling. I can copy people's power, and send a blast of energy out, causing mass destruction.." Y/n stated, looking towards Danielle, "I can copy them, sometimes I'm able to keep them. Like sams." Illyana smirked, "she's a copy cat, watch out."

Danielle looked at y/n "So you could copy mine?" Y/n nodded "If I see it, yeah. But since I haven't seen it, or heard it. No, not yet." Danielle slowly nodded. Y/n started taking off the equipment "Why have you been acting weird lately, y/n?" sam asked, of course right before she could take off the finger cuffs "What do you mean?" she chuckled, Roberto looked over at her with a smirk "She has, hasn't she?"

"I don't get it, what?" she looked around, Sam and Roberto were smirking at each other " You like someone?" Rahne asked y/n laughed "No... why?" she sat up in the chair, Rahne looked at the graph "Who?" she said with a smirk, Y/n shook her head and took off the cuffs "shut up." and stood up to walk out of the room "Well who is it?" Illyana asked leaning forwards "You guys don't need to know. Why is it such a big deal ?!" Y/n maintained her strong act.

"You do! Who is it, Roberto?"  Sam laughed, Y/n fake gagged "No way in hell." Roberto acted hurt, putting a hand on his chest and falling back in his seat"Hey she doesn't want to answer that." Dani started, Y/n looked at her and put her hand up "Its fine, I swear. Don't worry." she said with a smile, Rahne though for a second before "She likes you!" she yelled pointing at Dani.

"What the fuck?! No, I-I don't even know her." She started to defend herself, y/n looked at sam wanting some help. he put his hands up "you started this, just answer the question." her face got red, with embarrassment and anger. Her hand twitched and she cracked her knuckled "I'm going, you assholes." and again started to leave.

"Just tell us? what's the big deal, it's just a question y/n. Stop being overdramatic. You're not in the south anymore, you don't have to wait till marriage." Roberto mocked her, Rahne looked at him and shook her head "not funny Roberto." Sam looked at him with a glare and flicked his hand against his throat, signaling to cut it out.

"You wanna know? Do you really want to!" the room shock a little "You really want to?! Fine, I like Danielle. There, you happy now." and with that y/n left the room.

Sam looked around the room, so did Rahne. Roberto sat in his chair, in silence. Illyana had a smirk on her face "What's so funny?!" Danielle asked her with a serious tone, Illyana shrugged "I just can't believe anyone would like you..." she smirked.

"Ok that's enough, imma go find my sister." and he stood up and left the room "I'm going to too!" Danielle ran after him. Leaving Roberto and Illyana alone in the room to pack up.

Y/ns POV

I ran down the stairs leaving the old room, slamming the door shut. 'I can't believe them!' i yelled in my head my fist clenched,  I could punch sam right now. Even though he didn't mean to make it a big deal, he just wanted a simple answer but still.

My shoes echoed down the empty hall, Reyes was definitely able to hear me. My eyes watered up, and I felt energy start to bottle up in my body. I need to get outside, now. I ran to one of the many exits and started trying to open it. It's locked. I started pushing the door harder, hoping it would bust open.

"Please open, please!" I yelled and banged on the door harder and harder. The energy that would be released soon would probably wipe out this side of the building. I cried harder "Open the fucking door, Reyes!" I screamed the door unlocked and I busted through and ran straight for the field in front of the building "Y/n!" I heard a voice yell from the building. I kept running.

I tripped on a stick and fell to the ground, the energy being released when I hit the floor. I screamed as the blast rang out. I heard a faint scream and a barrier was put around me, Reyes. Once the blast faded down, slowly. I looked up from the ground, the field incase in the bubble Reyes cast was either on fire or charred. I broke down.

"Y/n!" I heard Sam yell as he ran down the hill towards me before Reyes put a dome around him to keep him from going any further.

3rd person

It sounded like a bomb exploded outside the brick building, Sam and Danielle ran towards the girl in the field. Reyes ran out soon after that, putting a field around her bug enough for the fires to not spread anywhere else.

"What the hell just happened?" Dani yelled, Sam looked over at her " she exploded. What does it look like?!" He screamed and ran towards his sister, crashing into a field.

"No, don't go near her." Reyes stated and walked towards sam "What happened for her to explode?" she looked Between sam and Dani "We asked her if she liked anyone, she got defensive and we didn't leave her alone. She got overwhelmed and ran out." Dani confessed, Reyes looked at her "thank you, Danielle." eyes gave her a small smile before turning to sam with a stern face "Sam why didn't you stop them? you know she can't control it."

Sam looked at the Doctor and shook his head "I don't know, I fucked up. Just please let her go." he pleaded, Reyes looked at the dome down the hill. The fire had gone away and the girl was in the middle of it.  She lifted the doom and smoke flooded out from it, y/n stood up and looked at the people on the hill.

"Your gonna need to be separated from the others, you know that y/n?" Reyes spoke to the girl as she walked up. She nodded and looked at Sam, and shook her head at him "Look I'm sorry-" he started before y/n cut him off"don't. I'm sorry Dani you had to see that." before leaving the site with Dr.Reyes.

"Is she mad?" Dani asked sam Shook his head "No, just disappointed and embarrassed that all. Well, see her a few days though." Sam said turning towards Dani, she raised a brow "In a few days? What is gonna do to her?" she asked, " she's gonna run a few tests on her, and put her in confinement to make sure she can be let out again." Sam started walking towards the building in the dark. Danielle thought to herself for a little bit.

"Do you think that was all over a question about if she liked me or not?" Dani asked looking at sam, he shrugged at her "Could be, I mean she likes you but It could have been something else as well. You'll have to ask her that yourself."

Sam and Dani walked into the building seeing Illyana, Roberto, and Rahne by the exit "What happened?" Roberto asked sam "She exploded. What do you think?" Sam said in an angry tone "Probably all because we wouldn't leave her alone about her little crush on Danielle. And now I won't be able to see my sister for a good week all because of this bullshit." and with that sam walked off to his room.

the group stood there in silence, sams boats echoing down the hall. Slowly fading off. Danielle looked at Rahne "I feel like this is my fault..." she started "no, not yours. It mostly me and sam. We started it, we joke a lot with her but we sometimes forget her limits. She won't hate us for it, She won't hate anyone for it. But don't expect to hear her talk for a while." Roberto stated in a quiet tone.

"Whys that? we won't see her for a week sam said, but why won't we hear her?" Dani asked looking at the 3 "When she explodes, she gets embarrassed and will give us the silent treatment. We also will not hear from her for a while because when she explodes, It injures her voice box. It comes with the power." Rhen scratched the back of her neck.

"will she forgive us though?" Danielle asked the group once more question, Illyana laughed "always. It's just her. She forgives and forgets." Illyana looked up the Lockheed puppet "That's why she gets along with everyone so well." she shoved Lockheed in her back pocket "I'm going." Illyana turned on her heel "I'm going as well, see you guys tomorrow morning.

Dani and Rahne looked at each other "Do you like her as well?" Rahne asked Dani. Danielle shrugged "I don't know, I haven't talked to her that much. She's nice but, who knows." Dani smiled at Rahne and they walked to their rooms in silence saying goodnight teach others and closing their doors.

y/n fell asleep, the explosion still ringing in her ears and occurring through her dreams. And like Sam said, "Not mad, just disappointed." and embarrassed.

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word count-2753

[justahopelessssromantic]

Hi I was wondering if you could do a request where the reader served with coco in the army and they had a sort of thing but nothing serious. And then the reader goes to find coco for protection after something happens in her life and then loads of fluff. Sorry it’s long and if you don’t have time don’t worry. Thanks ✌🏻

*I’m sorry if this isn’t what you quite had in mind, actually when I was about done with it I started thinking I kind of took it another direction than you were intending. My mind just took the idea and ran a little crazy with it so again I’m sorry if this wasn’t what you were wanting. Thank you so much for the request and sending your great idea. I hope you enjoy and I hope there’s enough fluff for ya! The beginning is a little intense and angsty so I hope you don’t mind and if it’s too much for anyone feel free to skip past the whole flashback scene it will be in italics. Anyways thanks again and I hope you like it! Let me know what you think ❤️😁*

*gif not mine*

Warnings: Violence, blood, gore, death, trauma, physical and emotional abuse. Fluff in the second half.

~Flashback~

On the top floor of an old building laid Coco as he looked through his scope out one of the busted windows. You were beside him crouched with your back against the wall, rifle in hand as you chatted casually even though everything about your surroundings was anything but casual.

“The first thing I’m gonna do when I get home is take a long bubble bath,” you moaned imagining the hot water soaking your sore and tired muscles, “And then I’m ordering food from every restaurant I’ve been craving, all of them at once,” your stomach growled as you thought of the countless burgers, pizzas, steaks, pastas, and deserts you had been so desperately craving as of late, “And I’m gonna just lounge around in the fluffy robe stuffing my face as I binge whatever crap show may be gracing my tv screen that night.” You chuckled

Coco chuckled, “Oh, is that all?” He teased as he surveyed the building across the way, searching for any movement, “When I get back I’m buying the most expensive bed I can and sleeping, forever. My back is getting real tired of the shitty excuse for beds we got here.”

“When I get back home, I’m going to take my wife out on the most romantic date,” Jefferson said from the other side of the room as he kept an eye on the back of the building, “And then I’m taking my kids to an amusement park, going all out, no stops.”

“And when is Sarah due?” You asked. Jefferson was a proud family man and he was quick to tell everyone he met all about his wife and kids. You thought that was sweet, it’s how he kept them close he would say.

“Just two more months,” he grinned as he looked back at you, “It’s a girl.” His smile widened, “Gonna name her Julia.”

“What’s that? Four girls now?” Coco asked, “Damn if you don’t get killed out here they certainly will.” He joked.

“It’s definitely scary,” he quipped back, “I’m outnumbered in my own damn home.”

You shook your head laughing as you stood up and made your way to Jefferson. You got about halfway when there was the shattering noise of glass, your smile vanishing instantly at the sound as you caught sight of a small object flying into the room from the corner of your eye landing right beside Jefferson.

“Jefferson!” You screamed as you ran towards him, hoping to be able to do something, anything to save him. The image of his family flashing before your eyes, and his.

It all happened so fast, before you could get far there was a deafening boom and then you were being thrown back violently, your body crashing against the hard floor. You couldn’t hear shit, just a loud persistent ringing that made your head feel like it was going to explode, as dirt, blood and debris rained down all around you.

“(Y/L/N)!” Coco called out over all the noise, and his own ringing in his head, “Fuckin’ answer me dammit!” He coughed violently as he searched through the cloud of dust, his lungs filling with the polluted air.

All he could see was blood and limbs. Fuck this wasn’t good. His heart hitched as he started to fear the worst but then he heard it, it was faint but enough to alert him, a cough. He tread carefully in the direction of the sound when he saw a body, your body. His heart immediately dropped to his stomach. There you were laying across the ground, covered in blood, some yours and most Jefferson’s, and the bottom part of your right leg just below the knee was missing, blood gushing violently from the mangled appendage.

“Shit!” He said as he scrambled over to you. Kneeling beside you he looked to your face, your eyes closing, “No! C’mon stay with me, stay with me (Y/N)!” He slapped at your face trying to bring you back to him.

Opening your eyes you groaned. The pain in your leg was intense and your eyelids were heavy as they tried to stay open. You saw Johnny and mustered out a smile that came out more as a grimace.

At least he was okay.

“Fuck, good,” He breathed out a sigh a relief, “Stay with me ok?” He pleaded as he turned his attention to your most obvious injury.

“Jefferson…” you croaked out. He just shook his head, telling you all you needed to know. There would be time to mourn but for now you had to push the thought away.

You would think with each loss the pain would get easier, but it never did.

The searing physical pain returned your attention back to your own injuries, most importantly your leg, “Cruz my leg,” you moaned trying to move, “What’s wrong with my fucking leg!?” You tried to sit up, to see the damage, but he placed his hand on your chest keeping you down.

“Don’t. Just look at me, okay. Keep your eyes on my face,” he instructed. Taking his knife out he cut a strip off your already torn pants as he returned his attention to your leg, knowing he had to act fast before you lost too much blood.

“Oh god, am I gonna die?” You whispered as you tried to keep your eyes open, fear setting in, “I can’t die. I can’t have the last thing I see in this world be your ugly mug,” you joked pathetically trying to distract yourself from the gnawing fear that was threatening to consume you.

He snickered half heartedly,at least you still had your shit humor, as he tied the piece of fabric tightly around your leg as a tourniquet, “Then you fight, you hear me? You don’t want this face to be the last thing you see, then stay alive.”

Nodding your head you tried to keep your attention on his face, taking in every detail, trying to commit it all to memory, to keep your mind busy and active before it became too much and your eyes drooped shut.

Once he was done he scooted over and gently placed your head in his lap. Acutely aware of your breathing and all of his surroundings, he murmured a quick prayer to whoever may be listening, “Don’t let me fucking lose her.”

You two had a bit of a fling but your relationship would always be a friendship first and foremost. You were his best friend, his right hand and he was your left, a true team. Losing you would be like losing a part of him. This life was hard enough he didn’t think he could survive that.

He stayed with you until help came, and then refused to leave your side until you were at the hospital where all he could do was sit in the small waiting area for you.

Your last day in the hospital was the last you had seen that ‘ugly mug’ of Johnny Cruz.

~End Flashback~

Now here you were outside the gates to his place of work, hoping he would take you in and provide you with some comfort and protection, even after the long years of having lost touch.

You felt awful now but at the time after that traumatic experience you cut him off, but in your defense you cut everyone off. You were so angry at him, Jefferson, the world and mostly yourself.

You couldn’t help but think it should have been you that day who was killed, you didn’t have a family or anyone to go home to, Jefferson did. Meanwhile the same thoughts consumed Coco. It should have him too or at the very least it should have been him who lost a limb and not you.

You were in a dark place for a while after that.

Then you met Paul, and everything seemed so great. He took care of you, helped you out with everything, you could always lean on him. But what you didn’t realize was that he fed off your brokenness, your need to be taken care of and when you started to snap out of it, get yourself back, he felt threatened, which turned to physical and emotional abuse.

The small rumbling of a scooter alerted you to the presence of a man as he pulled up beside you wearing a sparkling red helmet and goggles.

“Can I help you?” He asked with a kind smile on his face.

“Yes, actually,” You replied, fiddling with your hands nervously in front of you, “Do you know if Johnny Cruz is here?”

The man’s smile grew as he replied, “Yes, I’ll let him know he has a visitor. Chucky by the way,” He extended his hand out, shaking your hand rather excitedly.

“(Y/N)”, you smiled back at him. You noticed his prosthetic hands but didn’t say anything, knowing not everyone was comfortable sharing their stories, however still you wonder just what had happened to the man.

“Come on in,” he said as he drove into the the yard and parked his scooter before bouncing off into the building.

You took one last look back at your vehicle, contemplating turning back around before sucking it up and walking through the gates towards the building you had just watched Chucky disappear into.

Chucky burst through the doors just as the guys were getting out of Templo, the large smile never leaving his face, but that wasn’t unusual for the strange man who had become family to the club.

“Where’s the fire, Chucky?” Bishop asked as he watched the man practically bouncing in place.

“There’s a woman here to see you Johnny Coco Cruz,” he said addressing Coco, “very pretty.” Chucky added.

All the men turned to look at Coco but he was just as confused as them. He didn’t know of any women who would come looking for him here besides Letty but Chucky and all the guys already knew her.

“Another baby mama?” Angel teased as he walked past and behind the bar to grab a beer, popping the top with a satisfying snap.

“I fuckin’ hope not,” Coco groaned as he tried to think who could possibly be looking for him.

“She said her name was (Y/N).”

Coco’s heart stopped for a moment . He hadn’t heard from you in forever and hadn’t seen you in even longer. You were the last person he was expecting to see here in Santo Padre.

“Did you say (Y/N)?” Angel asked as he passed some beers around, “Wasn’t that the girl you had a fling with while you were serving?” He recognized your name as Coco often talked of you and your time together.

“It wasn’t just a fling,” Coco said reflecting on your time together.

“Well what are you waiting for, hermano? You can’t just leave her hanging out there all day,” Angel said, “I’ll go get her.” He always wanted to meet you, having heard so much about you. He was curious to know the face behind the legend.

Before Coco could stop him Angel was strutting out the front door, Coco and the rest of the men trailing behind as Chucky stood back and watched.

“Coco you never said she was a fucking babe,” Angel remarked, as he stepped out the door, his loud voice catching your attention.

Coco stepped out just behind Angel as he stared at you standing just a few feet away, a smile instantly gracing his face. You looked good, great even, just as he remembered as you stood there staring back at him, matching his smile in every way.

He bounded down the stairs rapidly before pulling you into a tight hug almost knocking you back and off balance. You wrapped your arms around him just as tightly clinging on for dear life, “I’m so sorry I was shit at keeping contact,” you muttered into the embrace.

“Doesn’t fuckin’ matter, you’re here now,” he reassured you before he pulled back holding you at arms length to get another good look at you, you doing the same.

“Looks like you got a little chubby,” you teased, “One to many beers?” He looked anything but that and you could see the toned muscles of his arms through his shirt, still you couldn’t help yourself from giving him crap.

“You’re one to talk,” he teased back, the banter between you flowing as naturally as if you had spent no time apart.

“Hey! I lost a good chunk of weight, or do you not remember?” You grinned at him.

He chuckled, “Good to see your humors still shit. I’ve missed that, missed you.” He said earnestly.

“Yeah and I missed your ugly mug,” you teased some more,bumping his shoulder with yours.

“Yo Coco you gonna introduce us or what?” Angel called from the top of the steps.

Wrapping his arm around your waist he led you up the stairs introducing you to his brothers. The taller man who had been talking was up first.

“Angel,” he smirked, shaking your hand firmly, “It’s a pleasure. I’ve heard a lot about you. Maybe we can get a drink some time and you can tell me your side of things?”

“Don’t pay any attention to him. He flirts with anything with a pulse,” Coco said.

“Wow I don’t know if he should be offended, or if I should?” you laughed.

“We could be offended together,” Angel offered with a wink.

Laughing, you rolled your eyes. This guy really was a flirt.

Ignoring Angel and leading you past him Coco introduced you to all the other men as you meticulously memorized their names. They were a good group and you could feel the familia bonds between the club. It made you happy to know Johnny had found such great people to call home, he deserved that more than anyone you knew.

Family didn’t always mean blood.

“How about we get you a drink,” the older man Taza offered as you were brought further into what you learned was the clubhouse and sat at a table. The atmosphere was cozy and welcoming, Mayans decorations littered throughout. You liked this place.

You chatted effortlessly with Johnny and told him how you were hoping to make Santo Padre your home as well before recalling war stories and tales as all the men listened intently to your recollections.

“I wish I could have been there,” you said, referring to the time when Coco shot the cigar out of an officer’s mouth, “That guy was a right prick, I can just imagine his face! Fuck I was so jealous when I heard that story.”

Coco laughed as he shrugged it off, “It was nothin’”

“Really? I think it was more than that,” you challenged, a mischievous glint in your eye.

“Yeah? And what’s that?” He asked, leaning on the table towards you awaiting your response.

“I think you just couldn’t stand to be there without me.”

“Well it definitely wasn’t as fun without you. I lost my partner in crime that day,” he said referring to the day of the incident, “my best friend.”

“Hey! I thought I was your best friend!” Angel called out from the bar, interrupting your moment as he feigned hurt.

“The choice between your dumb ass and her? I’d pick her too,” EZ joked, dodging the coaster that Angle flung his way.

The two brothers bickered a bit as a beautiful young girl came through the front door swinging her back pack onto the nearest chair, “Fuck it’s been a long day.” She groaned walking up and behind Coco, “Who’s this?” She asked looking at you.

“Leticia this is my old friend (Y/N),” Coco introduced, “Letty’s my daughter.” He informed you proudly.

You smiled to yourself, laughing internally. All those years ago he was teasing Jefferson about having daughters and here he was with one himself, “I didn’t know you had a daughter. It’s nice to meet you,” you said smiling at Letty.

“Nice to meet you too,” She smiled before giving Coco a kiss on the cheek and heading back into the kitchen for a snack.

“It’s still kind of new,” he explained, “I’ll tell ya later, it’s kind of a long story.”

You nodded understandingly. There was so much to catch up on, so much had changed whether it felt like it or not.

“At the risk of sounding like an asshole,” Angel spoke up again as he pulled out a pack of cigarettes.

“That ship’s sailed a long time ago, hermano.” Creeper interrupted before taking a swig of his beer.

Angel shot him a glare before turning his attention back to you, “As I was saying. Can we see the leg?” He knew how you lost your leg, that being one of the stories Coco had shared although not in great detail and was a little curious.

You shrugged and stood up, “Sure,” you really didn’t mind anymore and were proud of serving your country, it was all just a part of your story.

You pulled up the leg of your jeans showing off the metal prosthetic and exposing your tattoos you had just above it.

“Nice ink,” Gilly commented as the men looked over your colorful display. On the front of your leg you had a special tattoo in honor of Jefferson. His wife eventually reached out to you and you ended getting along with her well and became close with her and their children. With her approval you had his dog tags tattooed and then a flower for her and her daughters each surrounding it. They all picked out the kind and color and the young girls loved getting to be a part of it.

You did your best to do right by them and make sure they were taken care of. You sent them birthday cards and money and were hoping to someday have enough saved up to take them to an amusement park and go all out just as he had planned to do.

“You gotta be fuckin’ kidding me,” Coco exclaimed as he stood up from his seat and walked over to you starring at your ink, but it wasn’t Jefferson’s he was looking at but that of his and yours catch phrase which you had inked on the back of your leg behind your knee in black ‘I’ve Got Your Six’. “No way,” he whispered in disbelief.

“What?” You asked as you looked at him confused, you didn’t know what the big deal with having a tattoo dedicated to him would be.

Stepping in front of you he took off his cut grinning before turning his back to you and lifting up his shirt showing off his very own ‘I’ve Got Your Six’ tattoo inked in black on his back.

You stepped over running your hand across the words grinning yourself now, “Wow we got fucking matching tattoos without even knowing it,” you chuckled.

Letty watched you and Coco from the kitchen. She didn’t know the whole story but could tell there was something between the two of you and she couldn’t help but ship the two of you together. You were a perfect match for Coco and if she had to help things along the way then that’s exactly what she was going to do.

“So where are you staying,” She asked as she walked into the room, “Cause you should stay with us. There’s plenty of room.”

“Oh no. I don’t want to be intruding on anyone’s life,” you tried to protest holding your hands up, “I was just gonna get a motel room or something, until I found a place.”

“Nonsense,” she insisted, “You can’t stay in some shitty motel room. Right Coco?” She looked to him for support.

He had thought about offering himself but wanted to be respectful of Letty’s privacy and space. Since she was the one who offered though he figured she must have been cool with you and thought why not. It wouldn’t be the first time you stayed together, “Yeah. We got plenty of room.”

“Okay,” you agreed, smiling at him and Letty.

“Well with that settled I’m gonna head home and get stuff ready. I’ll see you there!” She kissed Coco’s cheek once more goodbye before heading out the door.

—————————————————————————————————————

You chatted and hung out around the clubhouse for a few more hours before deciding to call it a night and following Coco back to his place.

Opening the door he led you into his home where Letty greeted you with the biggest smile, “This way,” she said, leading you down the hall, “You can stay in Coco’s room for now.”

“No that won’t be necessary. The couch is quite fine with me,” you tried to protest for the second time that night.

“Just take the damn bed,” Coco said from behind you, “I’ve slept on far worse than our couch.”

“Go ahead and get settled and I will order some food,” Letty said before dipping out of the room and back down the hall.

Plopping your bag on the bed you sat on the edge giving it a couple bounce checks, “So is this the best bed money can buy?” You asked.

“Best bed my money can,” Coco chuckled before sitting down next to you, “So you gonna tell me what’s going on?” He asked. Turning serious he placed his hand reassuringly on your thigh as he looked at you, “I know it’s been years but I know you better than I know my damn self. I can tell something’s up.”

“It’s nothing,” you said as you looked at your hands folded in your lap.

Lifting your chin up he raised your face to look at him, brushing the stray tear that betrayed you off your cheek, “Remember we said no secrets? We tell each other the truth even when it’s difficult.”

You nodded, “I just feel so stupid, I mean I’m a fucking marine.” You glanced down before looking back up to meet his eyes once more, the deep brown feeling so comforting and familiar, “I left my ex,” you started, “And I don’t think he will try to find me but I’m not sure.”

“What happened?” His jaw clenched but he kept his voice even as he took your hand in his.

“It all seemed so perfect, he helped me through all my trauma and shit, when I was at my worst. I guess I felt like I kind of owed him but then things turned bad, he got violent.” You explained, “I had to leave, to get out of there before he killed me or I him.”

“You’re safe here, querida.” He reassured you by pulling your head to his chest and holding you close, “I’m not gonna let anything happen to you. I’ve got your six, always have and always will.”

Running his other hand down your back he added, “And if that fucker ever shows his face around here I’ll kill him, or at the very least help you dispose of the body.”

“Thank you Cruz,” you said, pulling away and looking back at him.

He kissed your forehead before standing up, “Anytime,” he smiled, handing you his hand and helping you to your feet, “How about we go see if the food’s here.”

Leading you down the hall and to the living room you smiled at Letty as she sat on the couch. Sitting on the opposite side Coco followed and sat between you two wrapping his arms around the both of you, his two favorite girls in the world.

“So what are we watching?” He asked as you and Letty both started a passionate discussion about the show that was on the tv, laughing and sharing your theories with each other.

He smiled to himself listening in even though he had no clue what the fuck you were talking about, he was just happy that the two of you were getting along and happy to have you back in his life once more.

Everything Taglist: @jad3djay @fairygardenss @carlaangel86 @briannab1234

[mintchocolateleaves]

Cost of Freedom (42/52)

Summary:  In which Heiji confronts a tail, and Saguru refuses to leave the precinct without the full case notes in his possession.

A/N: 2020 has been a year you guys. I’m not even going to try to explain everything that’s added to this taking forever. Just, it’s here now. Cool. It’s 4am. I’m going to sleep.

[Chapter List]

--

Someone is following him.

Nervousness fills him as he moves, because someone is following him and trying to figure out which of the three are his suspect is difficult. Either paranoia is filling him up, swelling in his stomach like a sickness – something he’ll feel stupid about later – or they’ve slipped up somehow and revealed themselves.

Except, Heiji isn’t so sure what’s been done to five themselves away. If it’s anything then… it must be the website, right?

They’d clicked into it and set off some sort of… alert?

Heiji shudders. What kind of organisation are they working with, if even looking on a website can tip them off?

Moving forwards, Heiji turns, cuts a corner nearer to his house. If it were a normal day, he’d head left and down the road to his own house. Instead, he turns right.

As he turns, he takes a moment to glance over his shoulder to the three still following behind him. The pair of teenagers follow behind too. The businessman, however, keeps walking straight.

Heiji shudders.

He watches from the corner of his eye as the businessman keeps moving, walking straight, swinging his briefcase until the wall between them obscures all vision of him.

“Oh, fuck me…” Heiji mutters under his breath. His heart feels like it’s going to burst from his chest. And he’s still got two more following him to worry about. He wonders if this is how Kudo has felt the entire time, since he’d been free but not, how he feels knowing that everyone he walks past could be after him,

If this is the way his paranoia feels, Heiji wonders how Kudo can even sleep at all. He feels faintly, like he’ll never sleep again. He turns right, into another side street that’s more obscured from view, brows furrowing as he walks.

Perhaps he’s setting himself up as he starts heading to this route, but it’s the only way to know for certain, if he’s being followed. The side street leads to a dead end – unless they know, like Heiji does, that there’s a small hole in one of the neighbourhood fences.

An unknown detail, Heiji knows, unless you’ve spent the entirety of your childhood looking for lost pets and learning the neighbourhood down to even the smallest rock.

They follow. Heiji tenses.

His gaze sweeps around for something that could be used to protect himself. Something long, something that could resemble a bokken. He’s trained for years at kendo, so even if something happens here, he can at least try to protect himself.

He untenses himself from panicked into a different sort of tension. Readying himself on adrenaline for a fight. There are some old construction materials here, a plank of wood that he heads towards. Covertly, of course, so as not to raise suspicion–

“Hattori.”

Heiji jumps, pivoting as he does to look at the two girls. And oh, for fucks sake. The voice is familiar…

“Are th’ two of ya completely insane?” He hisses to the disguised selves of Kuroba and Nakamori Aoko. “Ya don’t jus’ sneak up on a guy like tha’.”

-

It’s difficult to consider what exactly they’re supposed to do next.

Ran follows after Saguru, waits for him to quit moving as they leave the department behind. That was a bust, she supposes, but they’ll find another way around things. They just need to figure out a… way to do that.

“We need the case files,” Saguru says, when they’re outside of the offices, leading Ran into a small alcove, pausing as he glances up and down the corridor. “We’re not going to be able to find Kudo-kun without them.”

Pressing her lips together, Ran glances away. She’s not sure how they’re supposed to get them if they’ve been taken off the case, if they don’t have the access to them anymore. There’s no way, it seems almost as if it’s… out of their hands now. They’ll just have to use the information they’ve got on hand to figure things out.

“They won’t give them to us.” Ran says. “You know that.”

Saguru pauses, nods. Taking a moment to think, he’s entirely quiet, until:

“We need to take them.”

“We can’t!” Ran is uncertain if it’s fear, or nervousness that leads to her moving forward, tugging on his sleeve so he’s properly looking at her. There’s a… there should be a limit, shouldn’t there? “Inspector Nakamori already said–”

“The inspector is still reeling from his daughter choosing KID over him,” Saguru says. His brows furrow, a frown flashing across his features. “Which… should have been expected, honestly. Even as KID, Kuroba showed her more attention.”

He pauses, glances away again for the moment.

“They’re…” Saguru sighs. “They’re both in danger. Kudo-kun’s case… they’re a part of it now too. More of my friends are in danger, and I… We need those files because we need to find them, to give them the evidence we found.”

Ran falters, feels her shoulders drop.

“I don’t want them to get hurt anymore than they already have,” Saguru continues. “If we can help them by breaking a few rules, then shouldn’t we?”

“It shouldn’t work like that,” Ran says, although she knows like each other time he’s made a point like this, she’ll cave.

“But it does,” Saguru says. “Come on, all I need is an open terminal.”

Ran sighs. And then, she nods her head. “I think there was one just around the corner.”

“Let’s go then.” Saguru says, leading the way. Ran follows behind him. “Something tells me we don’t have much time.”

-

Kazuha arrives to the shrine with a feeling of trepidation curdling in her stomach, acid rising up her throat. She shouldn’t have left Heiji, she should have stayed, but he’s always been stubborn and she understands why he told her to go. She just…

Sometimes she wishes she’d never gotten involved. That she’d been smarter before all this, when Heiji had started going on his weekend trips from Osaka to catch on that they were to visit Shinichi. Then, maybe she wouldn’t need to be so worried about Heiji.

She can’t change it thought, can’t go back and so instead, she hides her motorbike among overgrown plant life, focuses on sweeping away as much evidence of her being here as possible.

Shinichi doesn’t come out to see if it’s her, and Kazuha wouldn’t expect him too. Instead, she focuses on getting this done as quickly as she can while still being efficient, before heading up towards the shrine.

It always makes her sad to think about how this place was vibrant once. Without weeds and ivy growing up along the side of the building, nettles interweaving the wooden staircase up into the building, almost as if trying to devour the place.

People used to pray here, but she doesn’t know for what. She wonders if they should start praying for safety. She closes her eyes at the door and prays, in particular, for the omamori she’d gifted Heiji with when they were children, to keep him safe.

If he needs that.

She really hopes he doesn’t.

Her prayer finished, she steps inside, and goes in search for Shinichi. He’s not in the reception area, but she finds him further inside, in on of the side rooms they’d set up for a sleeping area.

“Shinichi-kun?”

She can’t keep the alarm from her voice. Shinichi sits, his knees up to his chest, nose pressed against the fabric of his jeans, hands brought up into his hair. His breath comes in sharp inhales, and she can see from the way that he’s shaking, that it’s panic.

Kazuha steps inside.

“I’m comin’ in,” Kazuha says, as she comes closer. She gets a small noise, affirming, but not much else. Not that she’d expect more from him, not that she’d want to hear gasping words. “I’m gonna sit next to ya, okay?”

A staggered nod – Kazuha takes it as permission, and sits, her back pressed against the wall, own arms holding her legs as she takes a moment to consider the best way to help.

Panic attacks aren’t a stranger to her, haven’t been since she was a child. Hands gripped around the edges of her blankets, around teddy bears and Heiji, her knuckles going white from the tightness of it all.

All it had taken was her father getting injured in a confrontation with a suspect at work, and she’d been terrified for him each day when he’d gone to work. The way it had felt difficult to breathe…

“Breathe in with me Shinichi,” she says, keeping her voice low, trying to make her words softer, less of the usual harshness in her accent. “I’m gonna count from five and you breathe in, okay?”

Shinichi nods.

Kazuha counts – this is the point where she usually shuts her eyes, but she can’t. She keeps her gaze on Shinichi, monitoring, trying to make sure he’s okay. Instead, she soothes herself by counting things designed to soothe herself.

“Five.”

Kazuha is safe, somewhere that’s unknown.

“Four.”

Shinichi is also safe, even if his body is flooding with adrenaline, his breathing staggered and harsh.

“Three.”

They’re in a shrine that has almost become one with nature, on the brink of society and it feels like no one will ever find them here, like even if they let their guards down accidentally, it’d be alright.

“Two.”

Heiji is saf–

“One.”

Heiji is…

Now she does close her eyes. Focuses on counting and keeps to it. She doesn’t want to think anymore, lest she join in with her own panic.

It must work, because eventually, Shinichi’s breathing becomes less uneven, deeper. She can feel when he stops shaking, the way he slumps back slightly against the wall – not relaxed, but better.

“…It was her.” Shinichi says. “Vermouth.”

Kazuha frowns, trying to piece things together. Shinichi hasn’t mentioned Vermouth before, not until yesterday, when he’d claimed she was Sharon Vineyard. She doesn’t see where she fits into things.

“Vermouth,” Shinichi continues, breath hitching. “She killed those people. I… spoke to her in Kyoto.”

Kazuha’s blood turns to slush, a mixture between horrified ice, and overwhelmingly hot rage, anger on Shinichi’s behalf. To be stood in front of… to have to talk to the person responsible for everything he’d been blamed for…

“She…”

“We’d met before.” His voice settles, miserable. “…Three times before. Although… now I know who she is… we’ve probably met more often than that…”

“An’ she killed those people?” Kazuha asks, words soft.

“…Yes.” Shinichi says. “Because of me.”

“It’s not your fault–”

“It is,” Shinichi says. He turns to look at her now, miserable, like the world is weighing him down. He is Atlas, and Vermouth is the person who has placed the weight of the world down onto his shoulders. When he reaches his hand up to his neck, scratching, Kazuha leans forward and slowly takes his hand. “She did it for me.”

“Did ya ask her to?”

“Of course not.” His tone is vehement, horrified. “I would never–”

“Then it wasn’t for you,” Kazuha says, gently. “That’s just an excuse. She’s th’ guilty one, not you.”

“She did it,” Shinichi says, shuddering, “so that the organisation would frame me, instead of killing me. I would’ve never… She’d have faked my death.”

“That’s still not your fault,” Kazuha says. At his weak expression, she leans forward, hand on his shoulder. “It isn’t.”

“It feels like it is,” Shinichi whispers. “If I’d backed off when she told me too…”

“Then more people would have died,” Kazuha says, firmly. “You just wouldn’t have known about it.”

Shinichi sighs. He lifts his hands up to his neck, before pausing. “Where’s Hattori?”

-

Saguru finds an abandoned computer terminal and Ran is instructed to keep watch.

“Just act like we’re meant to be here,” he says. “I’ve been down here often enough to be recognised – they won’t second guess us.”

Ran bites her lip.

She doesn’t ask why this department is different to theft, why they won’t kick them out. Instead, she trusts that Saguru isn’t too tired, too injured to know what he’s doing. Even if it feels like they’re painting large targets on their backs, she trusts him.

He kept her safe, and she’ll do the same for him. She makes the promise to herself. As her brain blocks out the generic noise of the precinct, her ears focusing on the way Saguru’s fingers clack at the keyboard, she promises that she won’t let anyone else get hurt for her sake again.

The silence is almost overbearing as her promise settles on her shoulders.

“We’re going to need everything,” Saguru mutters under his breath, and Ran is pretty sure that it’s not an invitation for them to converse but simply a reminder to himself to be thorough.

Ran sighs.

“We don’t need everything,” she says, regardless of whether it was intended for her or not. “I’ve got some evidence at home for Shinichi’s case–”

“I’m going to get everything, just in case,” Saguru says, cutting her off. His voice is firm. “Or there might be things that they didn’t necessarily give you. Like the video interviews, the transcripts. Everything regarding what happened with Kuroba and Aoko-san yesterday.”

Another sigh.

“How long do you think this will take?” Ran asks, quietly.

“Hopefully,” Saguru says, fingertips faltering at the computer, forehead crinkling into a frown. “…It doesn’t extend into time that we don’t have.”

“Alright,” Ran says, quietly. She doesn’t mention how that’s not an answer. “And we’re what… we can’t be printing all this off, can we?”

“I’ve got a USB stick; I’m going to copy them over.” Saguru says. “The only issue is trying to make it so the system won’t flag the fact I’m copying all of these files over.”

Ran pauses.

“I don’t think I want to ask how you know how to do all of this,” she says, after a moment.

“Understandable,” Saguru says.

Ran pulls her attention away from him, surveying the room instead. They’ve found an area outside of theft, so as to avoid Inspector Nakamori’s attention, but it’s still busy.

There’s an influx of people moving in and out of the department. Some carrying case folders, others carrying mugs of coffee. Most monitors have the bright white LEDs of a case report being written up, although from this distance, it’s impossible to read the writing on the screen.

She glances out around the room instead, mouth open partly, as she fiddles with her hands. Mostly, there’s just an influx of police officers she’s never met before. And then–

Short, bobbed hair.

And a butterfly tattoo.

Ran frowns. She doesn’t know why she feels unsettled, but a coldness runs down her spine as she glances back to Saguru.

“Which department is this again?” She asks quietly.

“Organised crime,” Saguru says offhandedly. He pauses for a moment, gaze flickering up to her. “Why?”

“I think our case might be being investigated in her too,” Ran says quietly. “The waitress from yesterday, I think she’d have been called in as a witness, right?”

Saguru pauses.

“Oh,” he says. “That’s not good.”

“We need to go before she notices us,” Ran says.

“Else they’ll link…” He trails off, body going tense. “Alright this might not be… the full files but it’s enough. Give me one more minute.”

Ran wants to refuse him.

A minute, she wants to say, feels like a lifetime when placed under pressure. It feels like an eternity stretched out into a large expanse of nothingness where an impending disaster is right on the horizon but all you can do is stand and watch as it moves in slow motion.

Ran wants to refuse him, to say they don’t have a minute. But she doesn’t.

Instead, she watches as Saguru pulls out a USB stick and inserts it into the computer, loading it up and mass copying over files. She keeps an eye on the waitress across the room, trying to remain subtle.

“Almost–” The computer works quickly enough, but for a moment, as her gaze flickers back to the screen, it seems as if the process will remain at 78% completion.

Ran glances back to the waitress and waits, her lips pressed together in a firm line.

“Done,” Saguru says. “Let’s go.”

He yanks the USB from the drive, before logging off from the computer. Then, he pushes his chair out, lips pressed in a tight line.

“Let’s go,” Saguru says, as he pushes up, letting out a small hiss as he does. His pain relief must be wearing off.

Ran lets her attention remain on the waitress for one last second – she doesn’t seem to have noticed her, is messaging on her phone – before focusing on the door.

“Let’s never do anything like this again,” Ran says weakly.

Saguru lets out a small laugh.

-

“For the record,” Kuroba says as he focuses on Heiji, his voice pitched high in a melodic lilt, feminine and very much keeping up the disguise. “Walking straight up to you somewhere crowded would have been much more suspicious.”

Nakamori nods beside him but remains quiet.

Heiji understands it, but his heart rate isn’t getting the memo. The paranoia they’ve instilled in him has adrenaline rushing through his blood, has him waiting for the moment something bad occurs.

It doesn’t. Heiji stays stood where he is, his fight-or-flight sense betraying him as two more associates on the run stand calmly in front of him.

They must be insane. Heiji officially rules that they’re not sane. The pair of them are completely and utterly insane and it’s only moderately terrifying.

“I get tha’,” Heiji says after a moment, “but still.”

“He does have a point,” Nakamori says, nodding her head. “It doesn’t help with all the paranoia. Especially on a case like Kudo-kun’s.”

Heiji’s gaze flickers from Kuroba to Nakamori before settling back on the thief. His nervousness shifts into something hot, something boiling in his blood as a flood of anger rushes through him.

“You told her about the case?” He hisses.

“She broke me out of hospital,” Kuroba says with a shrug. “Including police custody. I think Aoko deserves to know about the case.”

“It’s dangerous!” Heiji protests.

“I’ve gathered that,” Nakamori says, dryly. “Since I was almost killed by a sniper.”

Heiji glances between them both. The anger fizzles out slightly as he considers. “They were aiming at you and not KID?”

Nakamori shakes her head. “I doubt it was that.”

“I gave Aoko my gas mask during the heist,” Kaito says. “I needed her help with my escape plan – they must have been shooting for the mask. We reckon it’d have been easier to shoot at a mask through all the tear gas.”

“All things we can explain fully,” Nakamori says, crossing her arms, “in a group. We’d like you to take us to Kudo-kun, please.”

Heiji looks between them both, before offering a small sigh. “…I don’t have a spare bike, if ya can get one that you can follow me on withou’ drawing attention to you, then I guess so.”

“I’m very good at acquiring things without a trace,” Kuroba says, a brightness to his tone. Beside him, Nakamori rolls her eyes, shaking her head, exasperated.

“Give us a few hours,” Nakamori says, more calmly. She levels Heiji with an even look, determined, unwavering. “We’ll find something.”

Heiji’s brows furrow slightly, before he nods. “Take the Hanshin expressway out of the city – route 13. Down th’ Daini Keihan road there’s a turnin’ that leads to Katano, takes about half an hour – there’s a small dirt path off the track, I’ll meet ya there and we’ll head out after tha’.”

“It’s almost four now…” Nakamori says, quietly, frowning.

“Eight p.m.,” Kuroba says. “We’ll be there for eight. Allow us half an hour past that and if we’re not there by then, we’ll contact you if we can.”

Well… that sounds ominous.

Still, Heiji nods. “…Alrigh’, I’ll let them know.”

-

The phone call interrupts them both, saving Kazuha from answering with whatever half-hearted, scrambled excuse she could think up. She’s glad, really for two reasons.

The first, obviously, because of the relief that floods through her seeing Heiji’s caller I.D. pop up on her phone screen, the image of him frowning down at her when they’d been studying together for their midterms before, telling her to get off her phone.

The second reason being that she doesn’t need to come up with a lie. Kazuha’s not bad at mistruths – not when the situation depends on it, at least – but lying to an ex-detective, to anyone with the skills to read people down to the faintest verbal tic?

Yeah, Kazuha doesn’t fancy her chances.

“One moment,” Kazuha says, as she presses answer. Shinichi raises an eyebrow at her, but otherwise remains quiet.

Kazuha waits.

“We were bein’ followed,” Heiji says by way of greeting, “but not by anyone tha’ wants to kill us or anythin’.”

“You do realise,” Kazuha says after a moment, “that this isn’t comforting if you don’t offer me more information, right? You do know that?”

“Ahou,” Heiji hisses, before continuing, “of course I know tha’. You just didn’t let me finish. Let Kudo know Kuroba and his girlfriend are here, and he’ll see them soon.”

Kazuha pauses for a moment, processing. “What time will you get here?”

“About nine,” Heiji says. “We’ll have to leave ‘em to get caught up, we can’t stay tha’ long.”

Kazuha nods to herself. “Okay, I’ll see if I can scrounge up some extra blankets for ‘em.”

“Later,” Heiji says, as he hangs up.

Shinichi’s watching her quietly as she puts her phone away, contemplating. The tension in his shoulders has eased slightly, the ram-rod straightness of his spine easing in, not quite a slouch but something more natural, comfier.

“They broke out of the hospital and headed straight to Hattori,” he says.

“Seems like it.”

There’s a moment where Shinichi simply breathes, relaxed, before the previous tensions returns tenfold, his brows furrowing.

“What if they were followed?” He asks. “They came straight here, they’re linking Hattori–”

“We’re…” Kazuha can’t deny that it’s something worrying to consider, but she shakes her head. “They wouldn’t risk something like that. They’re on the run too.”

It seems she’s said the right thing, like Shinichi simply needed to be reminded, because he settles again without any further issue, offering a short nod.

“…Right,” Shinichi says, quietly, voice mostly a whisper. “Right. You’re right.”

Kazuha pushes up from the floor. “They won’t be here for a couple hours, so are you gonna help me search for some blankets, or what?”