#i hope to god this is the build-up to his resignation

[milf-murdock]

Just Like This

Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader (Established Relationship)

Warnings: implied smut, insecurities, and all of the fluff.

A/N: I’m trying to dip my toes back in the writing game after being sick for so long, so here’s this fluffy lil drabble 🥰 anon, thank you so much for for the kind words and this sweet request!! I loved this idea so much! I hope you like it ☺️

The faint sound of running water meets Simon as he walks through the doors of your shared home. He nudges his boots off by the door, and hangs up his keys, carrying the many shopping bags in one hand—two trips is for quitters.

The sight that greets him as he walks into the kitchen stops Simon in his tracks. You’re in nothing more than one of his oversized t-shirts, bare legs on display just for him. Your hair is gathered in a loose, messy pile atop your head, strands breaking free from their tentative hold and falling into your face as your lean over the sink to aggressively tackle a stubborn burnt spot on the pan in your hands. As you ferociously scrub at the dish, the hem of your t-shirt raises just enough for Simon to see the plain cotton panties gracing your bum. The sight alone has Simon hardening in his pants, and he realizes he’s staring.

Simon clears his throat, not wanting to startle you as he sets the shopping bags on the island in the center of the kitchen before discreetly adjusting himself.

“Picked up the shopping, love,” he says as he takes out the cold items and loads them in the refrigerator.

You glance over your shoulder. “Oh Simon! I didn’t hear you come in…” you comment as you turn your attention back to the fucking pan that just wouldn’t come clean.

“Shouldn’t have let this sit for so fucking long,” you mutter to yourself, voice laced with frustration, as you switch from the sponge to the scouring pad.

Simon comes up behind you, arms sliding around your waist, pulling you back against him.

“Leave it be,” he mutters, bringing his lips down to your neck. “Let it soak, yeah?” He presses gentle kisses down your neck as his hands rub across your stomach. “God you’re so damn beautiful."

Those words do you in. With a shrug of your shoulders you try to to free yourself, slamming the pot and scrubber down into the soapy water. Suds ricochet and splatter down your shirt and your find yourself staring down at the wet splotches, tears prickling your eyes.

Simon’s quick to release you, stepping back and assessing you as if you’re a bomb that could go off any second.

“You alright there, babe?” He asks tentatively.

You swipe at your eyes to clear the tears before they fall. “Yeah. M’fine.” The words are hallow, performative. You are undeniably not fine.

Simon feels like he’s frozen in place. He never was good at this kind of emotional stuff—growing up in the environment where one pushes their feelings deep down and does something more useful like lift weights or go for a run. But he was trying to be better. For you.

Simon takes a tentative step forward. “Love, it’s just a pan. We can toss it. I’ll go get another—“

You take a step back, just out of his reach. “It’s not about the fucking pan, Simon.” With a sigh, you run your hand over your face.

At that, Simon’s brow furrows in confusion. “Was it something I said?”

“No, of course not,” you sigh, embarrassment and resignation settle in. “It’s nothing, I’m sorry.”

Simon steps closer, and this time you let him rest his large hands on your hips.

“S’not nothing, babe. Talk to me.” His thumbs rub small soothing circles on your hips through the thin fabric of the t-shirt.

Your head falls forward as you rest your head on his broad chest.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble. “It’s just been an off day. I feel like a disaster. My hair is a mess, I woke up to a new spot on my face, I’m wearing this ratty old tshirt.” The words pour out of you now, a build up of all the little things throughout the day. “And I told myself I would shower and get all put together before you came home, just as soon as I finished the dishes. But then that fucking pan—” your voice breaks off, frustration rising to its peak.

“And then you have the nerve to call me beautiful,” you finish with a roll of your eyes.

Simon pulls back, eyebrows raised. “That’s what did you in?”

You let out an exasperated sigh. “I mean yeah, Si, look at me.” You step back and gesture to yourself.

Simon can’t bite back his chuckle. “Oh trust me, love, I am looking at you.”

His eyes trace your figure up and down. A small smirk tugging at the edge of his mouth as he steps closer, pinning you under his gaze.

“Been looking at you since I stepped into the fucking kitchen. Can’t fucking look away. Seeing you in my shirt? All natural? A little messy? Babe, had me nearly creaming in my pants like a fucking teenager.”

Heat tinges your cheeks at the confession as Simon closes the distance between you two. A calloused thumb swipes against your soft, warm cheek.

“You are the most beautiful to me, just like this. Okay?” Those deep brown eyes are filled to the brim with a sincerity that even you can’t deny. Simon presses a soft kiss to your lips before pulling back, a wicked glean in his eye.

“Better yet, lemme just show you,” he says with a smirk before picking you up off the ground and tossing you over his shoulder, your squeals of laughter echoing down the hall as he carries you to the bedroom.

[altxrrmelancholy]

Cherry Lemons - Psh

Tags: biker!Seonghwa, hints of a toxic relationship, a bit suggestive, arguing, Seonghwa lashes out, angst, hurt

Word count: idk honestly

•••

Seonghwa hoped that you would continue to hold on to him as he drove back to the frat house. As much as he was upset, he couldn't afford to keep arguing with you on a bike. He had to calm down enough to make sure you got to your destination safely. That he wouldn't get mad and ram the motorcycle into a telephone post just because. He could still feel your arms around his waist if he focused enough so that's a good sign, he hoped.

As he neared the frat, he could feel your arms slipping from his waist. He stopped his bike as he reached and no sooner had he than you leapt out of the bike.

"Y/n. Y/n!" You were walking away from the house towards your dorm building. You couldn't take his antics anymore. His on and off behavior had been killing you.

"Y/n can we please talk. I promise I'll listen to you." You scoffed when you heard him.

"You'll listen to me now? When I want to leave is when you want to listen to me?!" You turned towards him to see him holding his helmet on his left hip, a somewhat desperate look on his face. All you had ever wanted was Seonghwa to listen to you.

He sighed deeply. "Can you come to the house Y/n, please."

It reaches a point that even you don't know whether he means what he says. No matter how much he tells you he does. You walk slowly towards him and glare at him before turning a corner to the pathway of the house. If you weren't so focused on the movement of the man behind you then you wouldn't have heard him scoff. This angers you big time.

"Come again?" You stop, your voice low. "You wanna scoff at me again, Seonghwa?" You say, your voice gradually getting louder.

"I didn't mean that." He says, his voice totally blank.

"You didn't mean that? Like you didn't mean to leave me stranded at the park tonight? Like you didn't mean to call me a bitch in front of all those people? What didn't you mean, huh?!"

"Can you calm down?! I just think you're constantly overreacting. No wonder we can never talk properly." You were stunned. Was this what he had always wanted to get off his chest about you? Are these words, these thoughts what he was feeling about you?

"I'm overreacting." You laugh a little, more filled with anger than anything else. "I'm trying to tell him how I feel and he thinks I'm being overreacting. Oh heavens."

"Can you stop? You're being ridiculous about this. Let's just go into the house so that we can talk about it properly."

"Ridiculous, huh? Earlier you found me ridiculous because you didn't think going on dates was a good idea. When I asked you to introduce me to your friends, you didnt think that was a good idea either. And then you finally allow me to meet your friends and you're passive about it-"

"I didn't allow you to meet my friends-"

"I'm not done talking Seonghwa, oh my god!" He physically resigns and crosses his hands, glaring at you. At this point, his whole frat has probably heard the commotion outside. Again, for the millionth. Time.

You slowly approach him, lifting up your finger to point towards him. "I'm constantly trying to tell you how I feel, Seonghwa. The way we agreed when we started dating. But I don't think it's working out the we hoped it would."

"Yeah no shit." He spits, his voice full of hatred. He never used to talk to you like that back when the two of you were merely sleeping together. In fact, you don't think you have a single bad memory of Seonghwa from before you started dating. You wonder if he turned this way because of you or if it was always like this, and you just didn't know.

"Seonghwa please. Listen."

"Ha. Okay, you know what? You want me to listen? What is with you constantly telling me to listen to you as if you're literally not right here. You keep telling me to listen when the truth is you're insecure." He stays glaring at you.

"Seonghwa, please."

"None of this arguing would have ever happened if you hadn't forced me into dating in the first place." He mutters.

You freeze. You had a feeling he would say that, and you low-key agreed. You didn't think it would hurt as much as it did actually hearing it though. You always wanted him to try for you, but you guessed he wouldn't. Especially if you kept arguing the way you always did.

Not knowing what else to say you make your way past him and head to the gate, still frozen.

Don't cry.

"Where are you going." You hear his footsteps behind you as you approach the gate quicker.

"Y/n stop. I said stop. Where are you going."

Don't cry don't cry.

To leave. You needed to leave. Before you started crying in front of a frat house, because of some motorcycle-wielding frat boy.

"Y/n!" Is the last thing you hear before you're tackled to the ground. Shock runs through your system before you realize that Seonghwa had just tackled you to the ground. What the fuck.

You turn to your back aggressively, still in Seonghwa's hold. You look up at him with anger and shock. "Are you crazy?! Did you just tackle me?!"

"I'm not letting you leave before we talk about this- Can you stay still?"

"I'm not talking about anything with you, let me go. Seonghwa I said let me go! I'm done with this!"

"Please don't break this off. Just come with me and we can talk about this, okay? Y/n- can you just stop?!"

"You just said that I forced you into dating me, Seonghwa. Where exactly is this supposed to go from there?" You say, voice breaking a bit as you stare up at the eyes you loved staring up at on most nights. "Please, just please let me g- mmmfh..." He suddenly slams his lips onto yours. If he isn't going to get you to walk to the house with words then he'll have to do it another way. The way he knows best.

Your eyes are shut tight as tears finally resign and find their way down your face, your hands on Seonghwa's shoulders as you try to fight him off you. You don't even know if you're doing much, though. For you're always absolutely weak in Seonghwa's arms, especially if he's kissing you. One of his hands makes its way down your body under your shirt, ghosting on the skin that is your stomach. You feel him grind his hips onto yours and you're moaning against your will. Your moans come out chocked as you're still crying.

But you still feel so good. And so broken at the same time.

"I didn't mean any of that Y/n please... Please stay..." You feel him kiss down your neck and suck the skin into his teeth, making a hickey. You're sobbing at this point, half-trying to get him to stop.

"S-Seonghwa stop, please..." Your sobs get even louder as he keeps grinding into you. You think you feel him shaking, but you have no idea if he's crying too.

"S- ah! Seong-"

"Hey!"

You distinctly hear a couple of footsteps run down a set of stairs and onto the grass.

"Seonghwa! The fuck, man? What's going on with you two?"

You feel Seonghwa get lifted off of you and you immediately roll to your side, still crying.

"Y/n! Hey, y/n. Can you hear me?" You look up and see Hongjoong, the frat leader standing above you looking concerned. He crouches beside you.

"Hey, hey. Breath Y/n. You're okay." You feel him rub your shoulder a bit. You hear a commotion behind and feel your embarrassment from being caught in such a position skyrocket. "Breath, okay? You're safe I promise." You slightly calm down from that. You distinctly hear Seonghwa scream at some one to let him go. You're guessing someone is holding him back.

"Are you okay to get up?" You look up at him shyly. You weren't even given the opportunity to get to know his friends properly and now you never will. You nod and he lifts you up gently. You hadn't even realized that your shirt was slightly torn until you felt Hongjoong put a jacket around you. You look up towards Seonghwa and see him struggling in Mingi's arms. At this point, you can also see all the frat members of atz look over at you from the windows, and you've never felt more embarrassed. You cower even more behind Hongjoong.

"Mingi. Take him inside and get him to calm down. Let's go, Y/n. I'll take you home." You hear the leader say as he ushers you away.

"Like hell you are! That's my girlfriend she's not going anywhere with you! Mingi let me go-"

"Oh cut the crap Seonghwa and grow the fuck up! Didn't you realize what this looked like from inside?"

Seonghwa stilled at the stern voice and looked from Hongjoong to you. You were a mess. Hair messy and with grass on some parts of your body. Your eyes were red from crying. He could faintly see the hickey he put on you and how coloured it was. You felt Hongjoong lead you away from the lawn toward his car. "Come on Y/n."

You shuddered a bit and got into his car. You could still feel the wetness between your legs from Seonghwa's touch earlier. You didn't think you could get even more embarrassed at this point.

"Y/n babe I'm sorry. I-I'll contact you okay? I'm really fucking sorry Y/n please..."

Is the last thing you heard before your focus shifts to Hongjoong starting his car, and leaving the premises.

•••

Feedback? I would love love love to hear it. Let me know if I should do another part. Thank you for now!

[seraphinitegames]

I'm in love with the immersion, world-building, and characters of your writing. I can't help but gush about how talented you are with your you are as it's obvious how much love you put in your work.

The routes that I've been going through with my mc and his love interest between Adam and Mason was intriguing, funny and sometimes left me flustered and secretly yearing for more as although the difference between the two is like night and day, there is also a sense of familiarity the two of them share as well such as when it comes to the people they cherish and how they can react when they're threatened especially when it comes to the mc when picked as a love interest.

My favourite moments in the series would be from your most recent book, book three. I was pensive and aching to reach out towards Adam, as I wanted him to realize that it's okay to feel vulnerable every now and then, and that it doesn't make him weak as I desperately tried to reach out to him, and how when I was about to confess that I had fallen for Mason until Felix came out of nowhere, cockblocking me, which led me to furiously mutter under my breath and mind "GOD F@#*ING DAMMIT, FELIX!!"

My heart also ached for how much Sin was in pain who didn't want to hurt anyone but felt like he had to, resigned and trapped with no way out. I didn't hesitate to find any way to help him in anyway I could to free him. That's why near the end of the book I let him leave to live his life the way he wanted to. I couldn't stop imaging about giving him something to not just remind him of our budding friendship, but to also remind him to stay true to himself, and remind him that although he did do some terrible things, they don't define who he is, and that he has the right to been and feel happy as well when the guilt of his actions starts to consume him, whilst I'll also run and shout towards him when he flies of and leaves as I wave with a smile, "Goodbye! Stay safe!" I wonder how he'll react towards the mc doing this.

I can't wait for book four, as this time the stakes are dire, and the mc can even fall for the villian! I can't wait!!

Sorry for my ramblings, but I truly love the series that you've created and I cannot wait for what you have in store for us all. I hope you have a wonderful day. 😊😊

Aah, what an incredible message! I honestly cannot even begin to tell you how much it means to me to read this! <3

It's interesting you saying about the similarities of A and M—It's kind of why it's always fun writing them when they end up paired off for a mission or something.

M is very honest with A (as can be seen with that rather cutting statement by a BFF M to a romanced A at the end of Book Three! But A kind of…gets M in some ways more than the others un Unit Bravo, and it's the same for M. They both know how in pain they are—emotionally or physically—and there's a very deep understanding and bond between them because of that.

I could go on about the unique bonds between each member of UB forever, so I'll stop not before it turns into an essay, hehe! :D

But yeah, I think Sin would love to hear that from the MC. No one has ever looked out for him or cared to before, so having someone they barely know do that for him would make a very big impact—and it does depending on your ending with him!

Thank you so so much for your wonderfully motivating message! <3

[kimberbohwrites]

As promised, the smuttiest chapter I have EVER written. Please enjoy. AKA the much anticipated, "Rolan in Rut" Chapter Hope for the Gate Chapter Three Word Count: 3,328 Rated: Explicit -- MDNI! You have been WARNED. READ ON AO3 (or continued below) <Chapters 1&2 Please don't forget to kudos/comment/like/reblog <3 Rolan x Tav art by @ ORANGEKITTYENERGY on tumblr

Summary: Eight months after the events of 'All I Wanted' (my first Rolan x Tav fic [see series]), Tav and Rolan’s relationship is tested by tragedy and turmoil. There will be drama, romance, political intrigue, action, and of course — smut. Is our favorite tiefling strong enough to handle it all and hold on to the girl? Tags/Warnings: Rolan, Tav. Post-Canon, Fluff and Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Smut, Porn with Feelings. Porn With Plot, Tiefling Biology, Tieflings, Rolan in Rut, Anti-Tiefling Racism, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Smut, Breeding Kink, Breeding, Knotting, Penis In Vagina Sex, Masturbation, Scent Kink, Oral Sex, Cunnilingus, Vaginal Sex, Shameless Smut, Creampie, Smutty

If Rolan had felt more himself, he might be embarrassed about how quickly his dignity was left behind. It is as if something breaks in him as the hours crawl toward the time when Tav and him had agreed to meet. It was agonizing. He’d been in rut before, but it had never felt so acute.

Even her scent left behind on his desk fuels the madness. He knows she’s busy getting ready for their unplanned holiday and he knows he mustn’t bother her. But the fever and aches were growing steadily worse with each passing hour. The only balm for him came in the form of his desk. As he resigned himself to finding relief, a hint of too-familiar shame rises in him but was quickly washed away in the tidal wave of need currently housed within him.

It wasn’t something he was proud of, but he’d grown desperate for her.

Resting his head down and his face flat on the desk he took a deep breath of her scent that still lingered on the wood. His cock grew achingly hard but the rest of him felt a sense of relief, like a cool breeze on sun-scorched skin, the pain remains but the relief is welcome. Taking another deep breath, he freed himself from his pants, taking his throbbing length in hand as he closed his eyes and conjured the image of his Tav.

Trying to bite his lips to contain the muffled groans proved of little use, his desperate pants and whines were still audible even with his face against the desk. He felt filthy, face pressed to his desk as he stroked his cock to her scent and his fever-fueled imagination. He wanted to find her right now and take her, against whatever surface of the Tower he found her nearest.

He needed to be inside her, to ruin her, to make her scream his name.

Stroking faster he felt the pressure build, the bulbous knot at the base of his length already forming. Gods he was desperate to knot her. He needed to feel her squeezing against him as he claimed her. His hips began to rut into his hand as he worked himself closer to the edge, wondering how she would feel stuffed with his knot.

His mouth had slackened as he got closer, now drooling onto his desk as he panted and moaned like nothing more than an animal. He needed Tav, alone. He needed to fuck and fill her and claim her as his mate. His imagination flashed with images of her beautiful core dripping with his spend and it propelled him over the edge. He came so hard he felt lucky he was already face down on his desk as his head reeled.

With each pulse of his cock, he let out a whine of relief as he coated the underside of the desk, his hand and his lap.

—*—*——*—*—

Rolan sat up with a start. His head felt fuzzy as he realized that he must have passed out at his desk. It couldn’t have been for too long judging on the state of things. With a mutter he cast a quick spell to clean up the mess around him. As he ran a hand through his sweaty hair, the other dropped into this lap and found himself still quite hard. He let out a groan of frustration. He’d expected the relief of such a carnal act to last longer but he had never experienced a rut so intense.

Quickly fixing his clothes and appearance with another simple spell (though even the little spells seemed to drain him in his current state) he stood from his desk. The effort making him reach out to the smooth surface for support. His head rushed as the room spun around him.

Zurgan, no more magic for right now. He thought to himself.

He needed to reach the portal room up in Ramazith Tower and meet Tav. He could barely hold himself upright in his current state of, desire. And using magic seemed to no longer be an option.

Looking down revealed the additional challenges of his situation. Though his clothes were clean and fresh once more, the obviousness of his arousal was quite clear to anyone who looked upon him.

Panic prickled at his forehead as his heart began to race. He chided himself, he was no better than a horny young man — it was humiliating. He was better than this. As his thoughts began to consume him threatening to take him to a dark place, a small knock sounded at the door.

“Rolan?”

Tav’s voice cut clear through the panic and right to him. Peeking her head in the door with a smile, she let herself the rest of the way in when she noticed him leaning against the desk for support.

“I thought you might not be feeling well.”

She bit her lip nervously as she approached. Rolan fought the urge to throw her down on the desk, rip off her clothes, and bury himself inside her.

“I think that’s a bit of an understatement actually”

He couldn’t help but sound tense when he answered.

“I thought that might be the case. I hope it’s okay, but I packed your things and have them upstairs and ready for you. The shop is closed, can I help you love?”

It came out in the next breath, before he even knew what he was saying.

“Marry me”

He felt his hand go to his mouth, but it was too late, even if he smothered himself right now the words had already escaped. Judging by the look of abject shock on her face, Tav had heard him quite clearly.

“Sorry. I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I said that.”

He quickly added and he heard Tav let out an uneasy breath.

“That’s okay, I know you’re not yourself right now… I was just surprised is all.”

She put a supportive arm around him as if to lead him upstairs but at her touch he jumped as if struck by lightning. He was barely holding on to the gentleman in him as his rut-addled brain screamed at him to mount her right there.

Her touch felt better than anything he’d felt in his life — so much so that he’d almost finished again on the spot.

“I think it’s best if I follow you”

“Right, sorry”

He could smell her arousal as she moved away from him, and he groaned before he could silence himself. Digging his clawed nails into his palms he said a silent prayer to any deity who might listen that he could just hold on a little longer.

He wanted to be gentle with her, she deserved romance but with each passing moment something wild grew stronger within him.

—*—*——*—*—

It had been a process making it upstairs, he’d needed to walk slowly. A combination of fever and arousal making the environment around him distorted and unfamiliar. Tav had been patient and kind of course, trying to keep ahead but always turning back to wait if he got too far behind. He began to feel uncomfortable in his clothing and not just because of his hardened cock pressed against his pants.

His tail swished behind him trying to keep him balanced as he followed her upstairs.

More than once, he found himself wanting to give up. The feeling of too uncomfortable to move almost overwhelming him, but when he saw Tav ahead he would find another spark of energy to keep moving.

Finally, they reached the upstairs of the tower and the room that used to house Lorroakan’s hideous book throne. He’d been as good as his word and the throne had been disassembled and organized back onto bookshelves first when he’d become Master of the Tower.

Knowledge was not a throne to horde and covet, he thought to himself angrily.

The grand space now served as the main library and the home of the permanent portals he’d been working on since Tav had come to stay. Currently only the portal to her home was functional, though he was almost finished with the one to Waterdeep.

When he crossed the threshold into the room, he found her leaning against a desk. Nearby was stacked luggage for both of them. He was immensely grateful for her, he’d focused so much on making sure the Sundries was ready that he forgotten to pack himself.

However, he was unable to voice any of these thoughts at current, his mind simply latched on to her form on the desk.

It was strange, but he was almost grateful for the crippling fever because he wasn’t able to feel his usual sense of anxiety. In truth, Rolan had panicked the several times he’d accidentally thought about what this experience might be like with Tav. He’d always been sensitive about his more infernal attributes even though she’d shown time and time again that she loved each part of him.

Some small part of him still believed it was a trick. Being reduced before her to his most base and primal instincts was something that had long worried him, but now that it was happening, he couldn’t be bothered to care.

The only thing he could feel was need. He couldn’t wait any longer. Not when she was a few steps away, so beautiful and all his. His intentions must have been clear on his face because she turned to him with a coy smile.

“Rolan, we’re almost there”

While his mind attempted to clear the dirty thoughts and take control once more, his body takes a step toward her as if acting on its own. Almost like he’s being pulled toward her by an outside force and that he can no longer resist. Truthfully, he doesn’t want to resist it. Tav makes no attempt to move away, looking up at him as he moved closer with her big beautiful green eyes. Her chest rises and falls gracefully with anticipation. Rolan forgets to breathe when his eyes meet hers.

The last shred of his control is ripped away when she nervously bites her bottom lip again. He’s on her in an instant, his tail coiling around her back to pull her in even though there is no closeness that will be close enough ease the way he burns for her.

“Need you, please”

His words are moaned into her lips between hot, desperate kisses that begin to drag south down her jaw.

“Rolan”

“Please, let me have you, I’ll try to be gentle”

He whines the request as he sucks and licks at the spot where her shoulder and neck meet, feeling elated as her body shivers against his.

“Yes, gods Rolan, yes”

Tav pulls him back to her lips and kisses him hard. His hands reach out to hastily strip her of her clothing. Their kisses turn frantic, teeth and lips against one another as he finally divests them both of their clothes. Certain he’d probably tore his own robe a little in his rush but too desperate to care, he kicks the last of it away.

He pushes gently to lay back on the table, uncaring for the bottles and potion equipment rattling around as he positioned her perfectly and dropped to his knees. His tail latched around one of her ankles as his hands spread her dripping cunt open before him, his body now driven near-feral at the smell of her need.

His tongue is inside her pushing as deep into her and licking against the sweet spot inside her like candy. Her screams and squeals of excitement, her taste, has his cock dripping onto the floor beneath him. With a groan he realizes that before too long the knot at his base will swell. He needs to be inside her before that happens, but he is unwilling to take her without the proper preparation.

Excited at a challenge, he decides to finish her and quickly. Flattening his tongue out inside her to press against her walls, he traces the pads of his point and middle finger over her clit. He carefully avoids his claws in that sensitive area with what little thoughts his brain is still capable of making. The effect is immediate as her abs tense, her thighs tremble and he is just able to push her to her bliss before she bucks out of his grasp completely.

 When she finishes on his tongue and face it’s his name on her lips, screamed until she runs out of air and gasps for breath.

Her taste satisfies the itch and the fever somewhat, but it’s not enough. He barely waits for her to recover, now wild with lust he stands and flips her over on the table. Tav is now chest down on the surface, holding herself up by her tiptoes as she is bent over by him. Bottles tip and clatter to the floor, the sounds of breaking glass barely permeate his brain as her dripping cunt is exposed to him.

“Please Rolan, please”

She begs and mewls softly at him as he leaves wet kisses down her spine, tracing his tongue every few inches against the hot skin.

“Since you asked so nicely”

He groans it out as he straightens and grips his cock, running it up and down her dripping center to coat himself with her slick. 

“Tav… are you sure? This might… hurt or you could get… get pregnant”

He whispers and whimpers his concerns as he readies himself. Desperate as he is to be inside her, he needs to be sure that she wants this… wants him.

She turns her head slightly to see him from her periphery though she’s still bent over the table.

“Rolan…  I want you”

He can tell just from the glint of her green eyes that she has more to say but the moment is wrong. As much as he’d hang on her every word, he is grateful as he pushes into her with a desperate whine.

“Tav… fuck… You feel…”

The sentence goes unfinished as control slips from his grasp. His hips rut wildly against her backside as he bottoms out in her. The slight swelling at the base of his cock already has her squirming and his tail coils around one of her legs to keep her steady.

His clawed fingertips lightly mar the smooth surface of her skin as he clutches her hips and pulls her back onto his cock with each thrust. At first he’s not even aware of the stream of filth leaving his mouth until he feels Tav clench harder around his cock as his words grow obscener.

“Fuck, you feel so good around my cock. Going to knot you and stuff you and fill you.” He groans and another whine follows on its heels as his thrusts grow more desperate, “breed you all night and put a baby in you.”

She clenches and cums, squeezing him like a vice as she squirts and drenches him. His thrusts grow faster, harder at the feeling as he fucks her through her orgasm.

Her hands shoot out to grab the table edges for support, sending more supplies and glass crashing to the ground. It goes unnoticed as she gasps and chants his name like a prayer. When she feels his growing knot begin to slow his movements, she is only able to scream as her eyes roll back into her head and she finishes on his cock for a second time.

He’s so close now, desperate for release his thrusts growing shallower as his knot begins to hold him inside her.

“Mine, mine, mine, mine”

He’s unaware of how he chants the word with each shallow, desperate stroke inside her. Tears form in his eyes at the sensation, how she squeezes his fat knot as he frantically grinds into her. Her free leg, the one his tail isn’t wrapped around, kicks out and her toes curl. Though he’s barely aware, Rolan is grateful Tav is enjoying herself as well.

When he cums, its with a shout and a gasp as he unleashes pulse after pulse inside of her. Tears run down his face, whining at how good it feels, the relief of mating almost immediate. The sensations push Tav over the edge with his a final time as she barks out his name.

“Rolan, fuck!”

He rests his sweaty head against her back and kisses her skin softly a contrast to the brutal fucking he’d just given her. She murmurs in gratitude. His body lurches and shakes as his cock throbs within her, still releasing pulses of spend deep within her.

“How long are we…”

“It should go down within the half hour, but I can’t be sure I’ve never done this with anyone… never felt like this before.”

“I love you too, Rolan”

“You should rest”

“Gonna close my eyes”

She whispers already sound sleepy and he can hear her start to drift off, exhausted from the day of packing and helping him. His heart lurches in his chest as he gently leaves more kisses on her back, softly rubbing her shoulders to soothe her as she slipped off.

“I love you more, Tav”

He whispers it to her, unsure if she’s still awake enough to be able to remember he’s said it when she wakes. That’s okay because he plans to tell her a hundred times when she wakes again and a hundred more after that.

As the fever clears, the short window of relief allowing his other senses to function he takes stock of the room around him. Broken glass and scattered potion reagents clutter the floor around them, he knows he should feel bad about the mess he’s made.

Instead, when he sees Tav beneath him his heart swells, the situation they find themselves in is overtly sexual but all he and think of is how much he loves the freshly fucked woman currently asleep on the table. He’s glad she’s resting; he intends to spend the days that follow making her scream his name until her voice gives out.

But he’s also grateful she can’t see the tears that run down his face as he worships her sleeping form, gently stroking her skin and leaving light kisses in the wake of his fingertips. This woman, this beautiful, fearless, frustrating woman had become the most important thing in his life so quickly. It scared him sometimes.

—*—*——*—*—

Downstairs many floors and streets away, and blissfully unaware Cal strode toward the Tower after visiting Lia at the Forge of the Nine. As he rounded the corner he collided with a small figure, sending them sprawling onto the cobblestones.

“I’m SO sorry! I need to pay more attention!” He began to stutter out as he lurched forward to help the figure from the ground.

“Oh, clumsy me — I didn’t see you there”

As Cal reached out to take their hand and stand them up he gasped in surprise.

“Wait, you’re…”

“Fancy bumping into you here!” The monk that Cal had met that very morning said with a smile. The half-elf woman was breathtaking, soft, sweet, and almost delicate looking.

“How…”

Cal gaped as he aided the beautiful woman to her feet.

“My name is Venetia”

“…Cal! My name is Cal!” He awkwardly laughed out as remembered his name at the last second.

“Where were you headed Cal?”

Her voice sounded so sweet and when Cal looked in her eyes, her eyelashes fluttered hypnotically. He swooned at the sight; smitten the instant they’d made eye contact.

“Home”

He pointed to the looming Tower on the skyline. Venetia’s eyes seemed to light up, Cal’s heart raced at the sight.

“Can I walk with you?”

She asked it so nervously, so sweet and shy that Cal immediately said yes without further consideration.

“Of course!”

She fell in beside him, pressing close as they turned toward the Tower and fell into easy conversation.

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[totallyjustabunchofhocuspocus]

Fic: One Foot Out the Door (Won't You Come Back Inside?) 3/3

Hey, lookit! I finished a one-shot! Yes, I know three chapters is not a one-shot, but compared to my current WIP folder, this is positively a drabble.

Pairing: Buck/Tommy (Buddie is mentioned, but one-sided in this)

Part One

Part Two

“Yeah. Yeah, I know,” Evan said tiredly. “Is that where the writing on the wall came from?” he asked, looking into Tommy’s eyes with that same touch of fear that was making Tommy's heart hurt. Not trusting his voice, Tommy just nodded. Evan grimaced, squeezing his hands. “I was kind of hoping you hadn't noticed.”

Tommy froze, his first instinct to pull away, to curl in on himself–protect his vulnerable points–because what the hell? Evan knew? Evan already knew Eddie loved him, had already realized? When? How? How long?!

But Evan was still standing as close as he usually did, swaying into Tommy's personal space. He was still holding Tommy's hands in his strong, steady grip, still rubbing his thumb back and forth over the rough, scarred skin of Tommy's knuckles with the same soft, feather-light touch as he always did. As though Tommy was something worth treating gently, as though he was something to be held gently and treasured.

Why wasn't Evan pulling back, babbling apologies, and promising that he hadn't meant to hurt him. Why wasn't he tripping over himself saying that he loved Tommy, sure, but it was Eddie, didn't Tommy understand? He stared at Tommy's hands with an air of exhausted, saddened resignation…but it didn't feel like Tommy had been expecting it to. Evan's sadness didn't feel directed at him. What was going on?

“I'm…I'm gonna need you to run that by me again,” he said carefully.

Evan sighed, bringing Tommy's hands up to kiss his fingers before letting go. “I know I don't always have the best, uh, situational awareness outside of burning buildings, but I'm not an idiot. I can tell when people are interested.” He lowered his voice, crossing his arms over his chest in a gesture that Tommy could tell was more self-soothing than defensive. “And I know Eddie better than anyone. We're…we're working on it.”

Ah. There it was. His stomach dropped sickeningly, and he swallowed hard, reaching down deep for the focus he called on when making a particularly tricky landing or charging into a fire that was escaping control. The focus that let him concentrate only on his next move, let him take things step by step and not look at the big picture of how much danger he was in. He needed that to get through this.

He'd come here intending to fight…but he wasn't an idiot either. If Evan and Eddie were already “working on” something, then the fight was already lost.

God, losing Evan was going to hurt so damn much.

But he loved Evan. He loved Evan enough to want him to be happy. So he could do this. He could withdraw gracefully, make it as clean a break as possible for both of them. The last thing he could do for his boyfriend, before he lost the right to call Evan his anything. Maybe if he did this right, losing Evan wouldn't blow the life he'd been building around this, around them, to smithereens.

“--and Dr. Copeland's really been helping us talk through things. I'm really sorry I didn't tell you, but Eddie's…Eddie's not ready to come out yet and I promised him I wouldn't say anything unless it started causing problems for us.”

Evan was talking. Evan was talking quite a lot actually, his words coming faster and faster in a rapidly increasing stream that always signaled he was nervous, worried about not being understood. It was different from the way he picked up steam when he was excited about something, though Tommy couldn’t have told you how.

Abruptly, Evan broke off, reaching up to lay his hand against Tommy’s cheek. Tommy had to hold himself back from leaning into the touch, the calloused fingertips that were as familiar as his own by now. “I should’ve noticed this was upsetting you,” he said seriously. “That’s on me. I should’ve asked Eddie if I could talk to you sooner…he would’ve let me, I know he would. I guess—I don’t know, I guess I was just hoping we could smooth everything over before anyone figured anything out.” He shook his head, stroking Tommy’s cheekbone with his thumb like he wasn’t about to break Tommy’s fucking heart.

Gently as possible, of course. Evan was too kind to be anything but gentle. But it didn’t matter how gently you were lowered if the drop was a thousand-foot cliff.

“Babe, I promise, we already talked about it. I already told Eddie I wasn’t—well. We’ve talked about it. I’ll go on a different shift if it bothers you. I don’t…I don’t really want to move houses, but there’s plenty of places that’ll take me, so that’s an option too. Whatever you’re comfortable with. Just say the word.” Evan’s brow furrowed, his face settling into the determined cast that meant he was committed to whatever course he was laying down, be it for good or ill.

And…Tommy didn’t quite hear a record scratch in his head.

But that wasn’t far off as a description.

“What?”

Evan tilted his head slightly. “I mean. Ideally nothing changes. Eddie’s…Eddie’s my partner. I can’t really imagine working with someone else. But I, I, I get it. That’s a huge ask, even if Eddie’s your friend, too.”

“No, I—what?” Tommy was suddenly struck with the feeling that they were having two entirely different conversations.

“I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you about this. I—you have every right to be angry about it. I just…I know how you feel about outing people. And I mean, me too! I’d never, I’d never do that to someone, and like I said, I was really hoping it wouldn’t be a problem.” His voice changed again, crossing the threshold into desperation, a slight quaver on the end of each word that told Tommy his boyfriend’s anxiety was ratcheting up with every passing second. “I just didn’t want you to get hurt. Or Eddie.”

This wasn’t the way this conversation was supposed to go. This sounded like…didn’t Evan understand? “Evan,” Tommy said, feeling the words scrape over his throat like broken glass. “Evan, he’s in love with you.”

He could not let himself hope he was hearing his boyfriend correctly until he was sure Evan understood exactly what was on the table here. What he’d been seeing practically from the moment he and Evan first started dating.

Evan reeled back a little, his frown deepening. And then…and then he watched all of the puzzle pieces slot into place in his boyfriend’s brain. Those pretty, pretty eyes that Tommy loved getting lost in went wide, and he sucked in a sharp breath.

“Oh…oh, no. No. Tommy. Tommy, I know that,” he said softly. “But I’m in love with you.”

*

“I…I look, I’m not going to insult you, here,” Evan sighed, burrowing deeper into Tommy’s side and throwing an arm over his stomach. The two of them were sprawled on Evan’s couch, Evan tucked as close to Tommy’s body as he could manage. Given that he was over six feet tall and pretty much solid muscle, it was pretty impressively close. “If Eddie and I had figured ourselves out sooner…or if Eddie had said something back when we were first dating, well. It would have been a different story.”

Tommy could not help tightening his arm around Evan’s shoulders. “Right person, wrong time,” he said, the words barely carrying even the short distance between them. He felt Evan give a small nod, and could not bring himself to look down at his boyfriend. The man he loved. His, still, because Evan wasn’t trying to let him down gently. Wasn’t trying to leave. He couldn’t believe it.

He…he couldn’t believe it.

“Then why isn’t it right person, right time now?” he forced himself to ask. It felt stupid. Evan said he didn’t want to leave him, why was he looking a gift horse in the mouth? He had to know, though. He had to dig down to the very root of this whole mess, this single, unignorable thing that had been haunting his relationship with Evan all this time, standing in the way of the future he so desperately wanted with this man. He had to dig it out, once and for all.

Evan was silent for long enough that it started to make him nervous. Then his arm tightened across Tommy’s stomach. “Because we’re not,” he said finally. “I’m not the right person for him anymore…and he’s not the right person for me. Me and Eddie—whatever chance we had, it’s gone.” He shifted suddenly, sitting up slightly so he could look Tommy in the eye. “And I’m okay with that, Tommy. I don’t…I don’t regret that. I love you, okay? I love you. Full stop. No qualifiers.”

Evan could be insecure, sometimes. Unsure of himself. But he had never shied away from being honest with Tommy. Even when honesty was difficult, or painful. He couldn’t even find it in himself to be angry that Evan had hidden the fact that Eddie had told him he was in love with him…Eddie was Evan’s best friend above all else, and he’d been trying to stay loyal to both of them. It had been an impossible position. And…he hadn’t exactly been honest with Evan, either, had he? He should have talked to him about his doubts a long time ago. Especially when they became an obstacle to talking about the future.

“So Eddie’s been seeing Dr. Copeland with you?” he asked when Evan settled his head back on his shoulder. He carded his fingers through Evan’s hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. Evan made a soft, contented sound.

“I mean, not as a patient or anything. More like…he comes and sits in on some of my regular sessions and she helps facilitate conversations. We—the most important thing is Chris doesn’t get hurt, you know? We needed to make sure any issues between us don’t affect him. But she’s also helping me set new boundaries, and just be mindful of not giving him false hope. Helping us keep communicating and figure out if we need some distance, and how that would work.”

Tommy hummed to himself, and then pressed a kiss to Evan’s forehead. “That must be hard for him,” he mused out loud.

Loving Evan and not being able to have him? Tommy was probably the only person in the world who could understand exactly how hard that would be. He’d been so sure it was going to be him on that end of this equation…and Eddie was his friend, too. One of his best friends. He couldn’t find it in himself to feel anything but compassion.

“We’ve made it through hard things before,” Evan murmured. “Eddie…Eddie’s my best friend. He’s family. We’re not letting this ruin that.” He turned in Tommy’s arms, bringing himself impossibly closer. “But I meant what I said. I’m not letting this ruin us, either. If you need me to take a step back, I will. I mean—Eddie’s willing, too, but I just finished that HazMat certification, and my heavy rescue certs are more recent than his. Right now, it’d be easier for me to transfer somewhere.”

At that, Tommy wrapped his other arm around Evan’s waist and heaved, rolling him so that he was sitting on Tommy’s lap, facing him. “You’d really leave the 118 for me?” he asked in stunned disbelief.

Evan framed his face with his hands, leaning down to kiss him. Just a brief press of their lips together, but it was full of promise. “I’m never gonna lose the 118,” he said. “I know that…better than I ever have. But yeah, I don’t…I don’t need to work there, anymore. Not the way I did when I first started. You have no idea how much you helped get me there.”

“Baby…” he whispered, everything else he wanted to say getting lodged in his throat. Evan grinned at him crookedly, not a trace of doubt in his blue, blue eyes, and kissed him again. Deeper. Firmer.

Kissing Evan was always a delight, but this felt different. This felt like forever.

And in the face of forever, Tommy found he could finally chase away the shadow that had been haunting them.

“I’d never ask you to do that,” he said when they finally broke apart. He ran his hands up and down his boyfriend’s sides, loving the way he arched like a cat into the touch. “I trust you. I trust Eddie. If you say we can get through this, then that’s what we’re going to do.” He knew Evan hadn’t just been placating him, but the brilliant grin that broke out across his face told Tommy he’d said exactly the right thing. He answered it with his own, sliding his hands further down to rest on his boyfriend’s hips. “One condition, though.”

“Name it,” Evan said instantly, tilting his head curiously.

They weren’t on a romantic trip, or at a fancy dinner. There weren’t flowers or candlelight or any of the other trappings he’d imagined whenever he let himself indulge in thinking about how he might take the next steps with Evan. Curled together on his couch, basking in the knowledge that they were going to be okay…that they’d come face to face with a challenge that would have ended most other couples and were going to come out stronger for it…he found the setting didn’t matter.

“Come live with me when your lease is up. Hell, come now. Come home,” he said.

If he’d thought Evan’s smile had been bright before, this one was blinding. “Thought you’d never ask.”

[selarina]

I have a suggestion! What are your thoughts on the reader helping high school kento build a birdhouse?

"You know one of these days you'll have to actually help, right?"

"I am helping," you frown as you stare at your nails. You're not really looking. It's merely a shield, a way to avert your eyes from his piercing eyes.

"You're..." His voice trails off as he lifts the cumbersome goggles up from his eyes, to see you perched on the marble slab. A figure so idle and bored-looking and yet, you make no means to contribute. "You're sitting.”

He seemed clearly frustrated, but you're who you are, and so you giggled.

"I am. I am sitting while providing you moral support. I’m the pretty view that will keep you from going insane over that birdhouse. There is beauty in this world, Nanami-san. There is joy,” you beam as you wrap up your speech.

"We don't have time for this. We need to submit this birdhouse by Monday," he sighs, his frustration evident in the furrow of his brow. "That's only 3 more days."

“Oh, come on. We've got plenty of time," you say, waving off his concerns with a nonchalant flick of your hand.

But he's not easily swayed. "Plenty of time? We haven't even finished painting it, let alone adding the final touches. And we still need to figure out how to stabilise the roof so it doesn't collapse under the weight of the two birds."

You lean back on your hands, letting out a dramatic weary sigh. "Fine, Nanami-kun. If you're so worried, I'll try and help. But you have to promise me one thing."

He raises an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. "What?"

"That you'll stop stressing out so much. It's just a birdhouse, not a spaceship," you tease, hoping to lighten the mood. "Oh, and that you'll buy me Mochi when we're done with an A+."

"I owe you nothing," he says, his arms crossed in defiance.

"Then I fear," you fake a frown. "I fear my legs just can't seem to reach the ground. You shall have to carry on without me." A tilt of your head, a pout on your lips. God, you're so annoying.

"I'll get you your Mochi," he concedes with a resigned shake of his head. "But only if we manage to finish this on time. And with an exemplary grade might I add."

"A+ and nothing less," you salute him as you hop off the counter. His eyes catch a glimpse of your skirt riding up before his eyes look away and move to the unfinished birdhouse.

---

Your heavy eyes threatened to lull, but you fought against it, you've slept for far too long. And it doesn't help that Nanami's hands are moving in soothing patterns against your back. Up and down, and a circle. Up and down, and a circle.

Your gaze strains to lift up, avoiding any movement that might disturb his lying form. He's already awake, so there's no fear of rousing him awake with your movement. No, your concern lies elsewhere — You're worried about moving, and having to start the day, and having to leave his arms. This is far too comfortable a moment to leave.

Your eyes drift across the room and settle on the red cage in the corner of the room. The cage seems to look a lot more lonelier in the dull light of this cold morning.

“I think he’s sad,” you murmur.

Your gaze remains fixed on the bird inside the cage. The love bird, now singular, was formerly a pair as they usually come. It's a horrible fate, you can't help but think.

“Obviously," came his terse reply.

You don't say anything, letting the silence join you both, you moved your hands on his chest. You repeat the familiar pattern. Up and down, and a circle. Up and down, and a circle.

“Do you think that’ll happen to you if I leave,” you ask, moments later.

“You’re not leaving," he says, quickly.

"No," you countered softly yet insistently. "No, of course not. I only meant if—"

"No," he cut in, his voice firm and resolute. Though his demeanor remained calm— as it often did— you felt his hand tighten around your waist.

You decided not to press further then.

"I think we need to pay more attention to it than usual," you suggested, redirecting the conversation to the love bird. "Else it'll die."

"Maybe that's better," he mused.

"Don't be silly," you chide gently. "He'll be alright. It's only been a week."

A week later, the love bird passed away, succumbing to a broken heart, as the veterinarian confirmed.

Three years have passed since, and you find yourself thinking back to that morning. He's the one who's gone now, his body finding the same soil as the two love birds.

You suppose you're the one who has to answer now.

[vickyvicarious]

van helsing character notes from today: he is typically "up to time" (punctual), and also always brings his bag with him now (ready for the worst)

"Let all be put down... exactly." OH GOD. here it comes.

I love the way Jack says "it was a lovely morning"; he's speaking with hindsight here, and his misery and resignation color all that came before. He sounds almost mournful as well as wistful when he describes the beautiful day, because he knows the contrast awaiting him inside.

Jack saying "She is always an early riser." with a audible side-eye is so funny. I don't think it's about what he's saying here, more the context of her seeing Lucy and not noticing her sleep isn't peaceful rest. And of course taking away the flowers. Or maybe it's even just that he wishes he didn't have to run into her first thing in the morning.

I LOVE the little, "mm?" interspersed throughout Mrs. Westenra's speech. Again, I feel like the voice acting paints such a good picture of her character, and especially here where she is seeking praise/showing off her self-satisfaction at "helping"

Speaking of. The little edge of rasp in Jack's delivery of "to which she answered:" just before Mrs. Westenra reveals what she has done. And his resigned tone on "asked the Professor." As he's narrating this dialogue he is restricted to just speech tags but his delivery makes his misery clear.

the music creeping in as Mrs. Westenra talks about the "horrible, strong-smelling flowers" building as you realize what she's done and what it must mean in time with van Helsing...!

Mrs. Westenra sounds so proud of herself. So oblivious and cheerful.

The little quiver in Jack's voice at "he actually smiled on her"

"Then, for the first time in my life, I saw Van Helsing break down." Jack speaks this line softly, almost wonderingly. He has so much faith in van Helsing, and he's been using his mentor's confidence as a linchpin to keep his own composure; to see van Helsing break like this is terrifying to him I think. And he doesn't know what to do about it, can't say anything.

van Helsing's sobs and gasping breaths for control are BRUTAL. SO INCREDIBLE. god and his plea to god. AMAZING

and the music, almost gentle at first but more and more creepy and lingering/ominous as he goes along

the fierce determination as van Helsing insists they will keep fighting

"yet another operation of transfusion of blood." the way Jack says this line I think really brings out a sense of hopeless resignation. He sounds almost sickened at the last word. Everything seems to point to this being useless yet again, but obviously failing to try their utmost isn't even a consideration. He just is losing hope that it can be stopped.

"Again the operation; again the narcotic; again some return of colour to the ashy cheeks, and the regular breathing of healthy sleep." THIS delivery is so excellent. The deep sigh, the resigned tone, the almost bored listing of what was once so agonizing an operation. The way he doesn't linger on Lucy's improvement at all, doesn't even linger on van Helsing's condition. Instead he just kind of sums up that it worked (for now), that van Helsing spoke to Mrs. Westenra, etc. etc.....

"After another hour Lucy waked from her sleep, fresh and bright and seemingly not much the worse for her terrible ordeal." He sounds almost amused, and so exhausted, so sad. She doesn't even know that she has nearly died for a third time. She doesn't know that, as far as he can tell, she will continue on just like this, on and on, nearly dying, barely saved, recovered and cheerful, and then death coming back again, and again, until eventually it cannot be denied any longer...

van Helsing broke down today, but Jack is the one who is most brutally disheartened. He's losing hope, he's becoming almost numb, he's doubting his own mind.

[i-amm-mj]

Is it really hate? - NSFW

A/n: So, this is my first post here in Tumblr... i was very nervous about posting it, but my mom didn´t raise a coward so here i am. I hope you all enjoy it, and please be kind, i´m not a native speaker and my anxious ass could´ve ommited  something. :)   

Words: 2k.

Prohero! Bakugo x reader

Warnings: NSFW themes, cunnilinguis, hate fucking?, lots of cursing. 

Summary:  You work for Bakugo at his agency, but your job is not that easy... Bakugo and you hate each other... or at least that´s what you thought. 

You hated Katsuki Bakugo. No. You loathed him with every fiber of your body…

He had been an egocentric annoying bastard since UA, constantly criticizing you and making stupid comments about your lack of talent in your field. He hated you too, that was pretty obvious. But you think that God hated you the most because you ended up working for him in his agency after the one you were working on had closed.

You didn´t know why he had accepted your job application, maybe just to keep torturing you like he used to back in high school, but today he had crossed the line…

“This is bullshit” He said making a disgusted face while holding the gauntlets you had invested an entire month to design and made “I didn´t ask for this shit”

“I just thought that you'd like an upgrade or two…”

“Are you kidding me? I´m not paying you to be “creative”, I´m fucking paying you to make what you are fucking asked for”

“I didn´t mean any- “

“Shut your fucking hole and listen for the first time in your shitty life, Y/N!” you opened your eyes in complete shock. He had a shitty attitude, that was true, but he had never talked to you like this, and you weren´t going to tolerate a man to treat you like that, not even if that man was your boss. So, you stood up from your sit and closed the distance between you and him while holding a finger up.

“Don´t you fucking dare to talk to me like that!”

“I´m your fucking boss”

“So, what!? You think you can treat your employees like shit whenever you are having a fucking bad day!?”  you raised your voice “I´m tired of your shitty attitude, not just to me but to the entire building! I have thanked you enough for the opportunity you gave me while nobody did, but I can´t and won´t take this shit anymore! I´ve tolerated you enough for years!”

“You are free to go then”

“Yes! I know! That’s why I´m fucking quitting this job right now! You will have my resignation letter first thing on the morning” you turned on your heels.

“Who are you going to work for? Nobody´s gonna give you what I gave for your shitty work” you froze. You were fuming. Was he fucking serious?

“You didn´t say that…” you said trying to control yourself.

“I fucking did” you snapped.

“You are a fucking bastard, Bakugo!” you turned so fast that you almost broke your neck but you didn´t care at the moment. “I´ve designed for Shoto, for Deku, for Uravity and even the damned Hawks, and they all were amazed by my fucking work! It´s just you the one that don´t recognize me! Why!? Why are so obsessed with making my life a living hell!?”

Bakugo stayed silent and it was your turn to speak “I hate you! I´ve always hated you ´cause you´ve been a bully for all of us! I don´t even know why such a nice guy like Eijiro can be your friend! You don´t deserve him! You don´t even deserve to be a fucking hero! I´m SO happy that Deku turned out to be the number one… ´cause he does deserve it. He is so much better than you…” you were just a few inches from him, and even with Bakugo towering over you, you didn´t back out. The tension was evident and suffocating...  

“You done?” he said with a blank expression.

“I´m sure that Deku´ll hire me. He mentioned he wanted me in his agency not long ago. I´ll be better in there” 

“You serious?” Bakugo contorted his face with something similar to pain and anger. 

“Course I am. I´ve never been surer about something like this in my entire life” you turned again with the intention of getting out of the room, you had said enough... but then something in Bakugo´s head just broke, so he held your wrist with a strong but not painful grip. He couldn´t let you go, not now, not never. He had always been asshole with you, that was true, but he did like and admire your work. You were amazing in what you did, but he had had a terrible day, no... a terrible week since the last attack of a villain and the media critizing him for everything he did or didn´t. He was tired... He was angry... And he didn´t know how to exprese it if it was not through his shitty attitude towards of whoever was in front of him at the moment...

 “What the fuck are you doing!?” you tried to shake your arm free “I´m gonna scream if you don´t let me go”

“Do you really mean it?” Bakugo asked. 

“What?”

“Do you really hate me?” you scoffed.

“After all you´ve done and said to me, that has to be pretty obvious, don´t you think?” Bakugo smiled. A sarcastic smile that had your head spinning from rage “What´s so funny!?”

“You´re so fucking sexy when you´re mad…”

“You gotta be kidding me” your expression turned from rage to complete shock.

“Not at all”

“Are you insane? Did you hit your head or something?”

“I fucking hate you too… you get on my nerves every damn time and I can barely stand you.” Bakugo put his free hand on your waist and you let him, listening close to what he has to say. “But you are a tease, you´ve always been… and so pretty and smart too” his lips were on your neck, sucking a little on the skin of your throat. You moaned because of his words... “Those fucking skirts and shorts you constantly used back in UA… always bending in front of all of us.” you tried to protest but he bit your neck “Are you gonna fucking tell me that you didn´t notice the huge erection on shitty Deku´s pants when he came to the office and you were wearing that slutty red dress of yours?”  

“I didn´t” He raised his head to look you directly in the eyes. He huffed. He knew you weren´t that naive. 

“Even nice guy Kirishima was constantly glaring at your cleavage” He smirked “The walls in our apartment are thin, you know? I´m pretty sure he jerked off thinking about you that night. I heard some noises coming from his room…”

Something in you snapped again but in a different way. You knew that Bakugo was a good looking man with the body of lust demon, but you had ignore it because of his personality “What about you?” you purred, feeling a little brave and honestly, turned on.

“I wanted to fuck you on that same table. Bend you over in front of everyone and make you scream my name, punish you for being such a slut in front of all of them” He kissed you hungrily and you responded moaning higher when his tongue got into your mouth, exploring the inside of your mouth and battling for dominance with your own tongue.

Bakugo softly moved his hands to under your knees to lift you up like if you weight nothing and then proceeded to put you on the table. He stopped for a minute to confirm that you wanted this to happen, and when you nodded with half lifted eyes, he started to slowly take off your blouse.

His complete attention was now redirected towards your breasts still covered in the lacy of the bra, he massaged your boobs and kissed them with such dedication that your pussy throb at the sensation. You knew he was damn good at this and hasn’t even done anything yet.  

Bakugo kissed you again, this time a little bit softer. You didn’t know he were capable of such display of softness towards anyone. He was always rude and honestly, insufferable, so you felt yourself a very lucky person for being the one receiving this treatment.

“Lay on the table” he said softly and you happily obeyed. Where did your hatred run? You didn´t know and you didn´t care, not with Bakugo positioning himself between your legs.  

Bakugo lowered his head towards your sex and put your knees on his shoulders to have a better access. You moaned when his lips kissed your inner thigh and bit the same area seconds after.

“Be sure to not cover your mouth, ok? I wanna hear you moan my name” Bakugo moved your panties to the side and with a flat tongue started to taste your pussy. Just the first lick took to heaven you and back. You didn’t know how he did it, but the sensation was like nothing you had experienced before. He had a golden tongue, a real prodigy of oral sex. He knew where your most sensitive parts were just by the little sighs you let escape. 

He sucked your clit a couple of times after that and continued giving licks to your pussy lips, but your moans got louder when he put his tongue inside you and started tongue fucking you like there was no tomorrow. Your hands flew to his hair and you pulled a little rough, he groaned satisfied. You could feel the little smile that formed on his face.

“Omg…” you sighed “Don´t stop. I´m close. Please, don’t stop” he pulled out his tongue to redirect it to your clit and then inserted a finger and curved it to massage your insides. You closed your thighs when the feeling was too much and almost suffocated him, but he didn’t stop there, fortunately.

“Say my name…” he groaned without taking out the finger inside you.

“Bakugo…” you moaned.

He inserted another finger and moved the both of them a little faster “I said ´my name´, not my last name, pretty girl”

You were close… so close. You knew that if you didn’t answer to him the way he wanted you to, he could stop and ruin your orgasm, so you obliged “Katsuki…” you whispered.

“Didn’t hear you”

“Oh, Katsuki, please, let me cum” you moaned again. He smiled and helped you with his mouth, sucking your clit again, oh, so heavenly…

“Cum on my face, doll. C´mon, make a mess” he said and you did so. Your pussy contracted against his digits and your entire body convulsed on the table. Katsuki let you ride your orgasm using his entire face, and when you were done, he stood up with a proud face and your juices on his mouth, chin, nose and even his right cheek. That made you smile with a dumb post orgasmic face.

“Was I that good?” he joked for the first time in years after seing your cute face… you laughed.

You sat up after a couple of minutes, your eyes immediately focusing on the erection that he wasn’t trying to cover from you.

“Can I help you?” you suggested and he nodded with a lopsided smile.

“Use your words, pretty boy” you teased with a seductive voice.

“I´m not gonna fucking-¨ you cut him off with a kiss.

“I was just joking… I know that big great Dynamight himself would never beg, not even for a blowjob” you laughed and his face softened.

You got up, pushed Katsuki a little to make room for you and proceeded to kneel down… but just when you where ready to put his pants down, a low knock was heard on the door. You looked up to Katsuki with big surprised eyes.

“Yeah?” his voice harsher than normal. You pinched his thigh and he flinched a little.

“Uhm, Mr. Dynamight, sir?” the voice of your assistant was heard. You stood up immediately. “I- uhm, sorry to bother you, but Miss Y/N and I have a meeting in 15 minutes…”

“Fuck…” you groaned while getting up and clothed again. “Yeah!” you shouted “I´ll be with you in a minute”

Katsuki stood there, just looking at you, his face unreadable. You finished fixing your hair the better you could.

When you were presentable, you faced Katsuki. He had something similar to a pout painted on his face.

“We´ll talk about this later… I promise” you said… He avoided your eyes, and then nodded.

“Yeah, whatever”

You took the papers you had brought to the meeting and opened the door to encounter your assistant blushing to her ears.

“Omg, how much did you hear?” you mumbled while closing the door behind you.

“All of it…”

[rafferty3207]

not to be impatient or ungrateful but too good to be true part 3 when 😩

its funny you say that today of all days bestie

Too Good to Be True (part three)

warning: fem!reader, passing mention of creepy dude, angst (but only at the beginning dw), then tooth rotting fluff

A/N: I hope you like this ending! in my mind this is done but not over - I will definitely be doing drabbles of this pair in future, but for now I hope you enjoy!

____

part one | part two

“Oi, prick, are you even paying attention?” Roy barks at Jamie, who is sitting staring at his phone.

“Er, yeah, coach, it’s just -just-”

“Just what? Spit it out?”

“How do ya access your voicemails?”

“Jamie. What the fuck are you talking about?”

He holds up the screen to Roy’s face.

You have a new voicemail.

“Jamie, I wouldn’t worry about it, it's probably some berk trying to sell you organic viagra or something. Now please can we get back to the football?”

“I just need to check Coach. To make sure of…something, but I’ve never listened to a voicemail before.”

“Christ you find new ways to make me feel old Jamie.” But before he can make another comment, Roy notices the sad look in Jamie’s eyes. He hasn’t been his usual irritating self this morning, no sassy quips or anything, and he looks like he’s barely slept. “Who are you expecting a voicemail from?”

Jamie looks up at him with those puppy dog eyes. “Oh for fuck’s sake, it’s that girl isn’t it? What did you do now, you silly twat?” 

“I didn’t do anything. I mean I kissed her -”

“Oh my god, that Simone Biles bollocks was about her wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, but it's an inside joke-”

“Hand me the phone.”

“Er, I dunno-”

“Just give it, Jamie.” Jamie reluctantly passes it over. “You dial a three digit number, which will access your number. You’re on the same network as me so-” Roy types the digits and hands it back. “But once you’re done, you’re doing 50 press ups for wasting my fucking time.” Roy goes into another room.

Jamie raises the phone to his ear tentatively. Of course, it’s you.

___

The gallery session had been, in polite terms, a complete shit show. You were late because you couldn’t figure out how to get into the building, then you couldn't find some of the papers with your plan on them, and therefore you spent several hours using what little you have of your phone battery to try and improvise a plan from your memories. You’re finally done, but by this point it’s almost midnight.

“This is your first exhibition, isn’t it?” Simon, the gallery owner looks at you hunched over, shoving the papers back in the bag.

“Yeah, how did you guess? Don’t answer that, that was sarcasm.” You say, continuing to scramble. “So what’s happening PR wise? Are we sending press releases, inviting reviewers, that sort of thing?”

Simon scoffs. 

“What? I get it I'm a nobody, but what about the big Emin retrospective you’ve got coming up in October? I’ve seen posters for that everywhere.”

“That’s pretty much all her team. Besides, when you’re Emin you don’t need the PR really. Of course, we’ll do our best and we’ve got it on our website and social media of course, but our comms person resigned so at the moment we’re a rather limited team. This is such a short period, it’s an interim show. It’s why we could offer it, but you knew that right?”

“Mhmm, yeah, of course.” You say, biting your lip. You don’t know what you expected, instead wearily picking up your bag.

“Right, I best head off, but I’ll see you in two days!” You power walk off while your voice can still sound fake cheerful. Now how do I go back from here? You wonder, pulling your phone out.

Of course, it dies at that very moment.

“Shit!”

___

You eventually manage to navigate home, although the walk takes three times as long especially after one man seems to walk right behind you for ages until you get to the high street and the tube stops running mid way through, so you have to persuade a nice older woman to look up the bus route on her phone. As you walk into your house and flop onto the couch, you remember.

Jamie.

Fuck. You hoped he didn’t take your note the wrong way. You plug your phone in and sit huddled until the screen turns back on.

11 missed calls. 13 messages.

hey Simone xoxo

out at drinks at the moment but I’ll be back asap xoxo

theres a cocktail i think you’d like here  xoxo

on my way home now! xoxo

where are you xoxo

u alright

u ok???

Where are you??

Just let me know ur home safe (or dont if u dont want to)

Im not asking to be creepy sorry if it came off like that

Im sorry if i scared you off

i shouldn’t have kissed you

Lets just forget it happened

Sorry again

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

Let’s just forget it happened. You felt sick to your stomach. You picked up the phone with incredibly shaky hands and pressed the dial button.

_____

“Er, hey Jamie, it’s me. Sorry to leave you a voicemail, it feels old school doesn’t it? I don’t even know how to listen to my own voicemails, not sure why I’m sending you one. Well I do, I’ve rung a few times and you’re not picking up and everytime I try and say what I want in a text it comes off wrong - ugh, sorry I’m rambling. Anyway, I’m sorry I didn’t reply, my phone has been dead the whole way home and I had to try and find my way back and the tube is shit and buses are shit and all I wanted was for you to come and pick me up in that ugly orange car of yours but I couldn’t. So that’s that. Did you get my note? I completely forgot but I had the exhibition planning session today and everything that could possibly go wrong did and it’s been a fucking nightmare and to be honest Jamie, I don’t know why I’m doing it anymore. I thought this was my one chance to finally become a big shot artist but it turns out I have to market it basically all by myself and I have no time and know barely anyone so let’s be honest, no one is going to come and it will all be forgotten about and I will prove once again I am the failure my father thinks I am.”

Jamie hears a shuddering intake of breath.

“Sorry, I’m rambling again. I’m sorry Jamie. I really did mean to wait for you. I’ve still got your shirt and everything. It’s just, I’m so stressed and I need to finish these paintings but also why should I finish these paintings but also I want them to be perfect and - and - and I don’t want to do this over voicemail but I don’t want to forget about us but also I have so much work to do and I’m so fucked -”

Jamie listens to you choke down a sob, before sniffing.

“I have to go, but call me back or something. Or maybe I could see you at the exhibit? You’ll probably be the only one attending. Goodbye, Jamie. Sorry again.”

Jamie’s heart was breaking, but not in the way he expected. You were so strong for him but all the while there you were, clearly dealing with your own shit and struggling and he hadn’t even noticed. He hated the idea that he had made things worse.

Now, he knew what he had to do.

___

It is the opening night of the exhibit and you are adjusting your hair for the fiftieth time. The gallery had extended their publicity to a small private view with a few glasses of wine and bottles of beer, but that was it. So you had spent the last three days painting almost non-stop, sending the invitations to everyone you know and barely sleeping. You just hoped your makeup would cover the dark circles under your eyes. You had worn your favourite dress and done your hair especially so you would at least feel like the real deal, but that was quickly waning. 

It had been fifteen minutes and not one single person had showed up. The one event staff was already looking at you as if to ask whether they could go home early. You started to look at your phone while downing the glass of wine in your hand. Still not a word from Jamie. You hadn’t heard from him since you sent the voicemail and you felt embarrassed just thinking about it. It seemed like you were going to need more wine.

But then, a man enters. He is wiry, with a blazer and a glorious grey and black shoulder length mane. He is holding a notebook and looking around keenly. You have no fucking idea who he is.

“Can I help you?”

“Ah yes, I’m Trent Crimm.”

“Are you sure you’re in the right place?”

“I’m here for the exhibit Everything In Its Right Place.” You nod, dumbstruck. “Ah, great, don’t mind me.”

You watch him as he looks at each painting before scribbling in his notepad. That was strange.

After him walks in one of the most beautiful women you have seen, followed by a small man wearing glasses.

“Hello, welcome to the Private View!” You say a little bit too loudly, and you worry that the wine may have gone to your head. The woman leans over to you and of course she smells beautiful too. “Hello, I’m Rebecca. Is it alright if some of my friends come in too?”

“Absolutely, the more the merrier!”

A couple more glamorous women file in, as well as some fancy looking older gentlemen in suits. Behind them is a colourful blond haired woman with an Essex accent and a very fluffy jacket, talking about how her PR firm which is on the hunt for new talent. You made a mental note to talk to her later, and as you do she looks over at you and winks, which makes you feel flustered. 

The events staff comes over.

“Are they on the guest list?”

“Oh yeah.” You keenly nod, hoping they are not paid enough to grass you up.

And then walks in a very familiar moustachioed man.

“Why, you must be the modern Louise Bourgeois our Jamie has been speaking so highly of.” You don’t expect the honeyed Southern twang and you find yourself blushing. He’s more handsome than the small picture by Jamie’s bed gave away.

“I wish! Although Jamie knew who Louise Bourgeois was?”

“I mean, I think he is more of a Georgia O’Keefe guy. But I love old Lou Lou. Art is a guarantee-”

“Of sanity. Very impressive -?”

“Theodore Lasso, at your service ma’am. Although my friends call me Ted.”

“Are we friends?”

“I sure hope to be. Jamie will not stop going on about how great you are, so I thought I best see it in person myself.” He offers a hand and you feel yourself go even redder.

“Well, it is lovely to make your acquaintance, Ted.” 

You see Trent’s head has whipped around this point and he is striding towards Ted.

“Ted you’re going to love these paintings -” Trend hooks his arm in Teds and Ted waves you a goodbye as he is quickly dragged off. 

You see all of Jamie’s teammates file in after Ted, including Roy who gives you a little nod. They have all brought people with them, including some women who you swear might be famous models, and before long the room is densely packed. You can’t believe it. You even have a few people come up to you to ask for interviews, and once the Trent man has sufficiently shown Ted around the room several times over, he asks if you want to be profiled for one of the big papers.

“I’ve always liked highlighting promising new talent in any field, and I feel you’d be a great match.” He smiles at you and you feel your stomach start to fizz. The one waiter who has been frantically pouring drinks for the last half hour runs over to you.

“A couple of people want to buy the paintings, are they for sale?”

“All the ones without red dots are, yeah.”

“How much do they cost?”

“How much are they willing to pay?” The waiter runs off and comes back, handing a long list of offers. Your eyes boggle at the amount.

“Fuck me.”

“Someone said they wanted to snap you up before Satchel did or something?”

“I assume they mean Saatchi.” The waiter shrugs. “Call Simon, he’ll help with the sales.

“I don’t think he’ll pick-”

“Send him a picture of the offers. He’ll definitely pick up.”

The waiter hurries off and you stare at the piece of paper. You can’t believe all this is happening. But you still check your phone.

Are you coming?

No reply.

“Ted? I don’t suppose you heard anything from Jamie did you?”

He smiles and taps his nose.

“I’m afraid I was sworn to secrecy.”

You get back to your wine. That would be a weird response if he had told Ted he never wanted to see you again. But the whole day was starting to feel very weird. You decided to pop out for some fresh air.  However, as you walk outside you see a very familiar orange car parked outside. In the driver's seat is Jamie in a suit, holding flowers, staring at his phone.

“You know, I didn't order an Uber.”

Jamie jumps.

“Jesus woman, you nearly scared the living daylights out of me!”

“I could say the same of you. Can I come in?”

He gestures to the seat next to him. You walk around and slide into the car. 

“You look stunning.” Jamie says, looking over you and you suddenly feel very naked in this dress.

“Thanks. It’s certainly an improvement from when you usually pick me up.” You fiddle with your hem. “So can you tell me why you’re sitting outside my exhibit instead of going inside? You’re the only person here who is actually on the guest list.”

He looks back down at the flowers.

“I dunno. I guess I was worried you might not want to see me after, y'know" He nods his head towards you. The kiss. Before you can reply, he starts talking again. "That’s why I got everyone else here first.”

“This was all you?”

He looks out the front of the window.

“I mean the boys wanted to come anyway, but I spoke to Rebecca and Ted and Keeley. It was Ted’s idea to invite Trent, because he knows lots of people at papers, and Keeley knows people through her firm and Rebecca knows loads of rich guys because I dunno, she’s rich and fit -”

You reach over and gently touch his arm.

“Thank you Jamie, this means a lot - ”

“Any time. I just want you to be happy, you know?” You grip his arm a little tighter.

 “But you didn’t have to do any of this. I would have been happy if you were the only person who showed up.” Jamie finally looks at you. You just stare at each other for a moment, saying nothing. At this point you reach over and tenderly place your lips on his. He doesn't resist, immediately putting his hand on the side of your neck. Your hands start wandering down his torso before he pulls away suddenly.

“I don't want you thinking I'm trying to buy you or something. Me and Roy watched Pretty Woman the other week but I swear-"

"I know Jamie. Besides, you haven't even bought a painting yet." You try to laugh him off but he holds you firm.

"I just want you to remember you earned this. You are really, really talented, it's just - it's just everyone needs help sometimes"

You are suddenly struck silent for a moment, your eyes watering.

"Ah fuck, I didn't want to make you cry again!"

You sniff. "This is good crying though, I swear! I just never realised you were so wise."

"Oi you cheeky mare, I'm trying to be nice!" You both laugh, before he reaches over and threads his fingers between yours. "I think I’m in love with you, you know?"

He looks up at you, uncertain. Your stomach is fizzing, but in a way that makes you feel like you could fly. You smile.

"I know. The thing is, I'm in love with you too, Jamie Tartt." You stare at each other, before your lips crash into each other, your hands crawling all over your torsos and necks, your breathing becoming more ragged before Jamie pulls away again.

"Now come on you, this is your big night, remember. We better get inside before we have to go right here in the back like a pair of teenagers."

You place a hand on his thigh. "I mean, that sounds good to me."

""You are gonna be the death of me, I swear." He opens the car door. 

"Actually, to be fair there is one painting I think you should see."

The two of you stroll into the gallery holding hands.

"Fucking finally." Roy exclaims, before patting Jamie on the shoulder. "Now don't fuck it up Jamie, I like this one." You and Roy share a smile. You felt like you had something to thank him for, but you weren’t sure what.

"I see you met Jamie." You turn around to see a small old woman in colourful clothing.

“Sylvia? What are you doing here, I thought you weren’t back for another week?”

Sylvia gestures to a handsome older gentleman in the corner “Of course I had to see your exhibit darling! Now don’t worry darling, I’m staying with one of my good friends.” She winks before leaning in conspiratorially. “You’ll have the flat all to yourself.”

“Sylvia!” You swat her arm.

“What? Your mother told me you were going through a dry spell. I’m just so glad you and Jamie finally got to meet.”

Your mouth is agape. You said that months and months ago -

“Jamie darling, it's so nice to see you again!” Sylvia airkisses Jamie, before swanning off. You lean into the crook of Jamie's shoulder. You’d say you hate how natural it feels, but you fucking love it.

“Do you think Sylvia set this whole thing up? Between you and me?”

“Well, she did keep telling me she knew the perfect woman for me, with a fantastic arse-”

“Jamie!” You poke his cheek. “Although speaking of fantastic arse, let me show you my painting!” You drag him over to the biggest painting in the room. It is rich and vibrant and while somewhat abstract, almost definitely a nude. “What do you think?”

“I think it will be perfect in my living room. Well, almost perfect.”

“Almost? What else could be more perfect than this?” You gesture to the bum cheeks.

Jamie rolls his head as if mulling it over.

“You?”

You roll your eyes. “Oh my god Jamie Tartt, where did you pick up such a naff line? You’re lucky you are very handsome.” You reach up to kiss him, your fingers brushing his neck and jaw. and he leans to whisper in your ear. 

“You know, now you’re gonna be a famous artist now, someone may actually try to kidnap you. You might need some form of security.”

“True. Do you know anyone?”

“No.” You laugh. “But I do know an excellent driver. And he does know a lot of excellent private spots.”

“How soon can he start?”

“How about right now?” You take his hand in yours.

“Sounds perfect to me.”

---

Ah hope you all enjoyed this two silly billys in love! Pls send me requests of any headcanons/drabbles you'd be interested in seeing that I can bash out while working on this new juicy Roy Kent fic!!

@thebookwormlife @taytaylala12 @eugene-emt-roe @skewcherries @okkkkkkkksure @beingalive1 @gothicwidowsworld @atjamesbbarnes @e-mmygrey

[moeitsu]

The Tie Which Linked My Soul To Thee

Hi everyone! I have a new Arthur x female!OC fic I've been working on that's posted up on Ao3, so I figured I would share it here as well. Please let me know what you think! This story is currently still on-going :)

Ao3  Wattpad Masterlist - All Chapters Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch.5 Ch.6 Ch.7 Ch.8 Ch.9 Ch.10

Summary: Kate McCanon, a young widow from the north, meets outlaw Arthur Morgan. When the two cross paths she discovers a complex man wrestling with his own sense of right and wrong. As their unlikely bond deepens, Kate becomes determined to guide Arthur towards a brighter path, even as tensions rise within his gang led by the enigmatic Dutch van der Linde. With danger lurking at every turn, Kate must navigate treacherous territory to protect those she holds dear, all while finding love in the most unexpected of places. Tags: Arthur Morgan/Original Female Character, Widowed, Original Character, Mutual Pining, Slow Build, Eventual Smut, Eventual Romance, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, High Honor Arthur Morgan, Friends to Lovers, Child Loss, Trauma, Canon-Typical Violence, Arthur Morgan Does Not Have Tuberculosis, Arthur Morgan Deserves Happiness, Chubby Arthur Morgan, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence

Chapter 1 - The Frost Gleams Where The Flowers Have Been

1890

Kate had never fancied herself a skilled woodworker. While she had lent a hand to her husband in constructing a barn, her role mostly entailed passing him tools and bringing him his lunch. But as she stood amidst the sawdust, tears streaking down her cheeks, she grappled with the daunting task ahead. She lacked both the sufficient wood and the patience to craft two coffins. Thus, the inevitable decision emerged: they would be laid to rest together.

The Reverend's suggestion to cremate the bodies, emphasizing the need to eradicate the disease completely, fell upon deaf ears. The mere thought of reducing her beloved husband and precious baby girl to ashes felt abhorrent to Kate. Instead, she harbored a tender hope that one day, perhaps, they would blossom into a magnificent Willow tree.

Amidst the melancholy chore, the vibrant symphony of birdsong provided a bittersweet backdrop, reminiscent of the lullabies she once crooned to her infant daughter. With a sorrowful melody humming in her heart, Kate toiled diligently, her hands blackened with grime, each wipe across her tear-stained cheeks a testament to her grief. As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting their modest farm in a golden hue, Kate's work pressed on.

Night descended swiftly, cloaking the world in shadows that seemed to stretch for an eternity. Kate, perched upon her porch swing, found no solace in slumber. Her vigil was solemn, her gaze never wavering from the rough-hewn coffins that cradled her entire world within their confines.

With the break of dawn, the Reverend returned, his disapproval evident, yet tempered by resignation. Together, in a somber silence, they labored to fashion a final resting place. By mid-afternoon, the grave stood ready, a solemn abyss awaiting its occupants. With the Reverend's assistance, Kate tenderly lowered her cherished husband and daughter into the earth's cold embrace.

As dusk settled, the Reverend offered prayers and parting words before taking his leave. Left alone in her sorrow, Kate felt the weight of despair bearing down upon her. In a world forged by men and seemingly devoid of solace for a solitary widow, she found herself with no recourse but to depart.

Beneath the twilight sky, the epitaph etched upon their shared gravestone bore silent witness to her profound loss:

Here Lies My Beloved Noah, And Our Beautiful Daughter, Lorena.

May God Keep Their Souls.

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

1899 

As the sun rose over the horizon, casting its golden rays across the sprawling expanse of Emerald Ranch, Kate found herself amidst the ebb and flow of another day's labor. Nine years had slipped by since the tragic loss of her husband and daughter, a span of time marked by wandering footsteps and the pursuit of odd jobs on her journey westward. 

She had once heard her father say they had family in California, he had many sisters but only kept in touch with one. Kate wrote to her after the death of her husband, seeking asylum with a relative with nowhere else to go. Her Aunt wrote her back and gave her condolences, she said Kate would be welcome with open arms. 

However, the last she heard of her Aunt was 7 years ago. But still, she continued west. She had come too far and been through too much to stop now. What she hoped to find in the valleys of California, she did not know anymore. Over the years she became more cowboy and less of a woman, her once soft hands now calloused by years of labor. The untamed plains and cold hard ground had become both her refuge and her bed. 

She came to Emerald Ranch only a week ago, her boss; Seamus, was reluctant to hire a stranger, let alone a woman, to help on the ranch. Kate assured him she was cheap labor and was only looking for shelter and a place to rest until she was on the move again. Kate was no stranger to odd jobs, she took any work she could get and saved as much as she could. But she was no criminal. 

She heard Seamus talking to two men as she filled the troughs with clean water. The gentlemen said they were new in town and looking for a partnership, one in which they could both make money. 

“Look I ain't no idiot, and I don't trust folks outta the blue. If you want to work together then you're gonna have to prove to me you’re worth my time.” Her boss's voice raised above the usual noise of the barn animals. 

“Of course! We’re only interested in a partnership, just looking to make a little extra money.” Carried the voice of an older gentleman. 

“No doubt. I do interesting very well. It's trusting that I don't do so well.” her boss answered, still not convinced by the two strangers.

“Look at us, we’re honest as the day is long,” said the other man with cheer. 

“You really want us to prove ourselves to this clown Hosea?” said the other voice, sounding much younger than his partner. 

Seamus scoffed, “good day to you, Hosea.” 

“N-now wait a minute Seamus. Arthur can be rough, and quick with his tongue, but I swear you can trust him, you can trust me.” Hosea pleaded, following Seamus to the side of the barn. Kate now had a clear view of the new “business partners”. 

Kate didn't know Seamus very well, but she could tell he was an honest enough man. Wise for his years, and liked to keep his nose out of trouble. “I’m an old man Hosea,” he began, “and you know why I ain’t dead yet?” 

“Because you don't trust idiots,” Hosea finished.

“Exactly.”

“We’re not idiots, Seamus. Let us prove it to you.” Hosea had an air of confidence, he wasn't some runaway bum looking to make a quick buck. He was serious about a partnership. Although Kate wouldn't say the same for his partner, who loomed behind them like a panther ready to pounce. 

“Okay…I’ll tell you what, old Bob Crawford and his boys just bought a beautiful stolen stagecoach from up north. It’s in their barn. Now you go get that,” he looked around for anyone who might be listening to his scheming, “then we can work together.” He said quietly, placing a hand on Hosea’s shoulder. 

“Who’s Old Bob Crawford?” inquired Hosea.

“An acquaintance of mine…well, not just an acquaintance. He’s my cousin, by marriage.” Seamus explained. 

“Oh so now we’re meddlin’ in your family business?” Arthur boasted with skepticism. 

Hosea waved him off and continued speaking, “Where is he located?”

“Now hang on a moment, you boys could very easily take this coach and sell it yourselves for a pretty penny,” Seamus began. 

“So you comin’ with us? I thought you didn't want to be involved in shady business?” Arthur spoke up again. 

“Heavens no, if my cousin saw me it would be my death. I'm sending someone with you, as collateral.” Seamus turned around and saw Kate already watching them, he waved her over. 

Arthur shook his head disapprovingly, “nah, I don't do babysitters Seamus.” 

Kate was just as skeptical about her part in this, she told Seamus she was looking for honest work, and robbing his cousin certainly falls out of that line. 

“She’s not babysitting . She’ll take you to my cousin's farm and let you do the robbing. Kate has been working for me for a few days now and she’s tougher than she looks.” Seamus said turning to Kate, “I want you to make sure that stage coach gets back to me. You don't need to take part in the robbery.” 

“You’re fine with them robbing your cousin?” She spoke in a hushed tone so only Seamus could hear.

“By marriage,” he added, “and yes, I would love it. The man’s been a thorn in my ass for years.” He said amused.

She nodded in acknowledgement and turned to get a good look at the two strangers. One was indeed much older than the other, with cropped white hair peeking out from under his hat. The other gentleman was tall and burly, and he hid his eyes under the brim of his hat. He seemed wary of strangers and kept both hands resting on his gun belt. 

“Let me get my horse saddled and I’ll meet you boys at the intersection leading out of town.” She spoke, Hosea nodded and was already making his way to his horse. Arthur stood for a moment eyeing the woman, no doubt playing the intimidation tactic. But Kate had seen far scarier men than him in her days. “Y'know the quicker we get this done the quicker you fellas get paid.” She noted.

Arthur scoffed and finally followed Hosea to his horse, “don't need no damn babysitter,” he grumbled kicking dust.

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Kate made quick work of saddling her black Hungarian roan, she calls Lorena. After her infant daughter. In a moments pass she was on the dirt road leading out of Emerald Ranch and toward Carmody Dell. She waved for the two men to follow her, they stayed behind her a short distance and made no effort for small conversation.

However, she overheard snippets of their own conversation as they went, “I thought you wanted me to be the strong arm? That's usually how it goes,” Arthur spoke.

“Yes but..” Hosea hesitated, lowering his tone a little, “you know how this works.”

“Cmon Hosea that fellers a joke, he don't even trust us enough to handle it ourselves. Now we got a chaperone.” Arthur complained loudly, at least he’s not calling me a babysitter , Kate thought. 

“All the better, he won't cause us any problems. And I cant blame the guy for sending the girl. Two strangers looking for quick money? Hell, I’d want assurance too.” Hosea answered, “besides, if he’s sending protection that means there’s big money to be made. Seamus wants his cut.” 

Kate came to the same conclusion, up until now Seamus had given her the usual ranch-hand tasks. Feeding and cleaning mostly. This was very different, there must be good money for this stage coach. 

“I guess you’re right,” Arthur muttered.

Hosea mumbled something back to Arthur about “hanging up their hats” if they couldn't finish a job as easy as this. They laughed and began chatting about their travels in Emerald ranch, Kate tuned them out and began humming a song to her horse. 

Her singing always pleased her horse and calmed the girl’s nerves. She was a strong and fierce steed, but jumpy and needy like a baby sometimes. Kate thought naming her horse after her daughter would bring her closure, instead, she was almost convinced that her daughter's spirit lived on in Lorena somehow. In all ways except biological, her horse was her baby.

Carmody Dell was a short distance north past the train tracks and Fort Wallace, Kate had passed it once before. They rode at a steady pace, the men behind her never coming too close. She wondered for a moment what their story was, and why they needed money so bad. Perhaps they were travelers like her, maybe they even had a caravan. She entertained the thought of traveling with a group again, but shuddered at the memories. Her previous caravan adventures had not ended well. 

Once the ranch was in view she slowed and allowed the boys to catch up on either side of her. She led them to a grassy clearing off the road. 

“You should continue on foot from here, I’ll stay behind with your horses.” She said dismounting. The two of them nodded and dismounted their horses, Kate was almost surprised to hear no objections from Arthur. 

“C'mon son, let's see what we’re dealing with here.” Hosea commented walking towards a large rock in front of the house. 

“Son”, so they are family . She mentally noted. Arthur gave his horse a pat, “be a good girl for the lady” he said, tipping his hat towards Kate. She was slightly taken aback by the sudden politeness.

She busied herself with the horses for a bit while the men laid out their plan, she gave Hosea and Arthurs horse a treat and was about to start brushing his horse when he approached her again. Startled, she backed away from his mare, she didn't want him to think she was snooping in his saddle bags. 

“You can keep brushin’ her, she loves attention,” he half smiled reaching up and petting her snout. “I just came to tell ya’ we’re gonna wait till it gets dark. Less chance of getting caught that way.” 

“Smart,” she replied, for whatever reason she suddenly felt very shy in his presence. 

He stood a few feet away from her and she could see more of his features. He was around her age. He had short dirty blond hair under his leather hat, and bright blue/green eyes. Her eyes lingered over his body. He was big too, more than a foot taller than her and well fed and muscular. His bicep had to be the size of her head alone, and she could tell by the fabric of his button down he had a bit of a belly hidden behind his gun belt. 

“What’s her name?” His voice broke through her awkward silence. 

“Who?” She asked and looked back at him. 

He chortled, “the black beauty you got over there,” he nodded to her horse. 

Oh, duh! “Her name is Lorena, she also loves attention but she’s nervous around new people.” Kate answered, still a bit lost in her thoughts. 

Arthur made a clicking sound with his tongue, reaching out a hand and slowly walking toward her horse. “It’s alright girl,” he cooed while she sniffed his palm. He pulled out a peppermint and gave it to her, which Lorena happily accepted. 

Kate smiled at the interaction, “you introduce yourself to my horse before me?” she teased. 

“My apologies ma’am,” he turned to face her, “names Arthur Morgan.”

“Nice to meet you Mr. Morgan, I’m Kate McCanon.” She reached out her hand and he shook it. His grip was firm but polite. 

“Likewise, Miss.McCanon. That’s Belle your brushin’, and that’s Silver Dollar.” He pointed at Hosea’s horse. “I saw this beauty when we first rode into Emerald ranch, had no idea she was yours tho.” He was talking about her horse again, “told myself I’d inquire about buying her if she was available.” 

Kate smiled at the affection he was showing for her horse, she knew Lorena was a beautiful mare. She often received compliments on the road, and many have offered to pay for her purebred. 

“I’m sorry to disappoint you, but she’s not for sale.” 

“Well I can certainly see that,” he laughed, “she seems happy though. You must take real good care of her.” He said, his attention still on her mare as he scratched under her chin. 

“You some kind of horse breeder Mr. Morgan?” Kate asked. 

Arthur laughed, “no no. Nothing like that, though sometimes I wish I was.” He smiled as he said it but Kate noticed there was a sadness in his tone. “I just think they’re neat is all.” 

They had only just met, and while Arthur was not initially the most pleasant, she found it incredibly cute how enraptured he was by her horse. 

“I should probably also apologize for my rudeness earlier, it’s been a rough couple weeks for us and we uh- don’t always take too kindly to strangers.” Arthur took off his hat as he spoke and held it to his chest, a sincere gesture. 

Kate was shocked, the man she met at Emerald ranch not even an hour ago seemed like a completely different person than the man before her. His cold demeanor was gone, or at least reined in at the moment. 

“No apology needed Mr. Morgan. I understand,” She answered. “Although I wouldn’t call it rude, you were just skeptical. Rightfully so, can I ask what brings you to Emerald Ranch?” 

Arthur looked away from her as he spoke, choosing to focus on her horse. “We’re just stayin’ in the area for a few weeks. Passin’ through and tryna make money.” 

“By robbing stagecoaches?” Kate said in an amused tone, “you a bunch of outlaws or something?” She continued, half-joking. 

Arthur looked at her with surprise, “What? No, we uh- got laid off from the railway. Up-north. Just looking for money so we can find a place to settle down again. That’s all.” He looked away again, avoiding her gaze. 

“I’ll say it again, by robbing stagecoaches?” She kept her tone playful, but wasn’t entirely convinced by his story. But it felt good to be the intimidator.

“Wasn’t our idea, Seamus asked us to rob his cousin!” His voice rose slightly with anger. 

“By marriage,” Kate retorted. 

Arthur was about to speak again but only stared at her. 

“I’m just pulling your leg Mr. Morgan.” Kate laughed. “It’s no business of mine. I’m only passing through here, same as you. What you do here and how you earn your money is your business. As is mine.” 

Arthur scoffed, suddenly amused, did this woman just tease me?

He went to speak again before another voice interrupted them, “Arthur! Get over here!” Called Hosea. He pointed a finger at Kate as to say this isn’t over and walked away. 

Amused with herself, Kate grabbed an apple and sat down against a tree. Watching the sun set as she waited for the cover of night so the two men could pull off their heist. 

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

Kate woke suddenly to the sound of horses moving. She quickly got up and looked in the direction of the ranch. Sure enough the stage coach was steadily moving down the path away from its place in the barn. She quickly mounted her horse and trotted over to them. 

“Nice work! Follow me back to Emerald Ranch and try to keep it in one piece.” She called up to Hosea who was driving the coach. With that she clicked her tongue and took off ahead of the coach at a steady but quick pace. Not wanting to get themselves caught. 

Before Hosea could crack the reins he looked to Arthur as he was about to get in the coach, “you ride ahead with her. I got this.” 

Arthur looked confused, “why wouldn’t I ride with you? The horses will follow.” 

Now Hosea was giving him an amused look, “I heard you with her earlier.” 

“And?” The cowboy replied slightly annoyed. 

“You’ve never fumbled our cover story so bad!” He quipped, “it was like listening to a child tell it!” 

Arthur shook his head, “now you’re playin’ match maker old man?” He teased, trying to hide his smile.   

“I’m just saying it wouldn’t kill you to go talk to her son."

Without another word Arthur nodded and dismounted the coach, getting into the saddle and riding off to catch up to Kate.

[gwiyeounsonyeon]

May Writing Challenge Day 4!

Pairing: Megumi Fushiguro x Male Reader (INTENDED) Summary: You catch Megumi playing the air guitar and formally apologize Words: 400/200!!! Warnings: use of words like freak and perverted purely for goofball purposes only Notes: I'm so happy! today was a much better day than yesterday, I'm so glad I've made it this long instead of writing a bunch of stupid shit all in one day and then burning out and quitting.

☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

‘Dear 208, I don't mean to be so formal or weird but I don’t know your name or your phone number so I'm writing you a letter to say that you absolutely rocked that air guitar solo and that I'm sorry for watching the spectacle, I wasn't doing it because I thought it was silly or weird but because you are actually really attractive and you made me realize I'm probably not as straight as I originally thought I was. Sincerely 408’ P.S. I didn't mean to look at your junk, I had no idea you were doing a naked guitar solo.

✐You suck in a deep breath trying to will yourself from laughing as you finish writing out your letter, you dot and fold it into a little paper airplane intending to send it through 201’s open window with your superior paper airplane-throwing skills. You toss your roommate's pen unceremoniously onto his bed and go over to the window, you stick your hand out to feel the wind but get nothing, 

✐Confidently you aim at the open window and reel your arm back before throwing it forward, you watch triumphantly as the thing gets decent air but then your expression fades into horror as it takes a nosedive immediately in front of 201’s window and hits some poor girl in the head, she looks up and you duck down immediately hoping to god she didn't see you. You wait a few seconds and then peek out the window only to see she isn't there and instead is walking around to the entrance of 201’s building. 

✐You slouch in front of your window, your thoughts running a million miles an hour as you try to plan how you can resign from school without getting laughed at by the entire campus. A few minutes pass and then a paper airplane flies through your window and hits the floor in between your legs, your heart skips as you pick it up and scramble to look out the window only to see the guy sat at his desk not paying any attention to you. You open the letter nervously…

===

‘you’re a perverted freak 408. (xxx)xxx-xxx’

===

✐You swear your heart stops when you read the guy's phone number and you can't help but do your stupid little victory dance, not noticing the guy watching you with an amused smirk on his face.

[the-dixon-effect]

Sticks and Stones

A/N: dear fic writers, consider this a public service announcement. DO NOT schedule a week of fic writing that coincides with a camping trip, it is hell!!!!

era: season 3-4, prison era

summary: Y/N suffers from chronic pain in her feet, but hates to feel vulnerable around others so constantly overworks herself. perhaps a certain archer could be the right kind of medicine... | requested from this ask by @justalexheree :) guys i really did my research for this one so i hope you enjoy ^.^

pairing: Daryl Dixon x f!reader

words: 1.4k

warnings: mentions of chronic foot pain ig?? lil' time jump

It must be late by now, you thought. You were hesitant to look up to check the position of the sun for fear of getting distracted. You were crouched down, working out in the allotment around the front of the prison. The farm was a brilliant idea, you decided, despite the high amount of labour that was necessary to feed the residents of the prison-turned-camp. God knows you needed the food. Perhaps if the members of your community were aware of your condition, you wouldn't be forced to work out here all day, practically sweating your skin off in the Georgia sun. It didn't matter anyway, 'cause you couldn't let that happen.

So here you were, digging up soil and planting seeds 'til the sun disappeared behind the trees. It was somewhat enjoyable, you convinced yourself, of course you had your thoughts and daydreams to entertain yourself, and back in your old life you would have never found yourself spending so much time outdoors. Even so, a mundane office job might have arguably been a little better for your body. You constantly found yourself having to distract yourself from the persistent ache in your feet, maybe some company would do you good, you thought.

"Hey, we're all eatin' inside, ya can prolly finish up now," you heard the familiar voice of the crossbow-wielding man from several metres away. You knew you needed to stop, but there was still work to be done. If only there was enough food in the first place, then maybe you would let yourself resign to the dining area. Save it for those who needed it, you thought.

"Alright, I'll be inside in a second," That was a lie. It's not like the rest of the group would notice your absence, you figured. You better just stay out here a little longer, making sure the crops were tended to until it was dark. Then maybe you'd get some rest. For now, you didn't need to eat. Truthfully, your feet were killing you and it felt like you could keel over at any second. Get over yourself, you said, over and over in your mind, these people need feeding.

You remembered the look the archer gave you when he called you inside, observing how you were the only person left out in the field. You turned to check if he had left and, to your surprise, he was still stood watching, hands buried in his pockets as he looked straight ahead and met your eyes.

"C'mon," he shouted across the distance between the two of you. You couldn't really say no to him, except he left you wondering why he was so eager for you to join him. You put down your equipment and split from whatever idle job you had yourself occupied with. Something you did appreciate about the humble farmer's life was the reasonable tan you had acquired, which was on display in your little denim shorts as you jogged up to meet him. A part of you wished Daryl would notice.

"Ya' alrigh'? Yer limpin'," he asked, meanwhile you were contemplating on the fact that this might be the most words you'd ever heard the archer speak, to your face anyway. Your lack of association with the man didn't stop you from admiring from afar, though.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Been a long day."

"I bet," he replied, walking side-by-side with you up to the building entrance. You thought it was sweet how he paid attention to you and noticed something like that. Maybe one day you'd open up about your condition, when it felt right.

3 MONTHS LATER

You looked around the room, searching for Daryl's eyes. Today, more than ever, you needed to be with him. After months of breaking down his thick walls, it was safe to say that he'd become one of the most important people in your life. Your feet were hurting like hell today, and the only thing that would make you feel better right now was his presence.

He'd been out on a solo run, which you'd begged Rick to let you join him, ultimately to your disappointment. So you spent your day as you always did, out in the pasture, tending to the crops. After a while you headed back inside in hopes of finding Daryl, perched at one of the rusty tables, waiting for you. To your dismay, you couldn't find him anywhere.

You approached Rick with a worried look shaping your features, "Where's Daryl? Is he back yet?" you asked, your voice laced with concern. "Nah, he's not back yet," sensing your anxiety, he placed a gentle hand on your shoulder and spoke, "Y/N, he's gonna be fine. Anyway, he's scheduled to be back in... about an hour."

So you waited. And waited. It felt like the longest 60 minutes of your life, busying yourself in your cell by reading a book that Carol recommended, not absorbing a single word. By the time you decided that there was nothing else you could do to distract yourself, you headed downstairs and made idle chatter with one of the prison newcomers, Karen.

"I hear your boyfriend Daryl's coming back from a run today," she said.

"Oh, no, he's not my boyfriend," you said with a slight giggle.

"Oh, right! Gosh, it's just that you two are so close, I just figured- you know what, nevermind, ignore me," she said with a chuckle.

You smiled and looked at the floor, and tried to silence your anxious thoughts about whether something might have happened to him, if he's hurt, or anything. At this, the double-doors swung open and in walked the man you'd been waiting for for the last 48 hours. You approached him, suppressing the relief and excitement you felt just from seeing him walk through those doors. His eyes lit up at your welcoming smile, and maybe, just maybe, he would be inclined to embrace you right here if the prison foyer wasn't so crowded.

For now, he had other things on his mind that he needed to clear with you. Just like you, he spent the last 48 hours worrying more about your safety than he did his own. He regretted not being able to stay with you, or at least bring you along with him. He was the only person who knew about your condition and how badly you were affected by it, which meant he felt an immense responsibility to take care of you and offer you acts of service. Not to mention, you were also the only person who Daryl felt totally comfortable around, comfortable enough to share some of his childhood trauma and emotion with. You liked to think the two of you had a special bond, but despite your healthy friendship, you couldn't help wanting more. Either way, all he wanted right now was to be with you and to not have to deal with anyone else in this damn place.

Maggie shot you a mischievous look from across the room as you tugged on the archer's sleeve. You rolled you eyes at her following Daryl up the steel staircase and entered his cell. You sat down next to him on the mattress and he copied you by rolling his head back against the cool brick wall. You sighed in contentment, still in somewhat pain in your feet.

"So, how'd it go?" you asked, turning to face him.

"Was fine. Are ya' alrigh'?" you noticed how he changed the subject, sensing his concern.

"Yeah, I'm okay. It's just a little relentless, you know," you felt a little guilt for immediately beginning to talk about yourself, even when you knew you needed his comfort. His closeness was good enough for you.

"Mm, I know. Ya' gotta stop overworkin' yerself, ya know," he drawled. His pretty eyes were staring deeply at you now.

"Uh-huh. It's just, it's kind of relentless, you know. Like nothing I do makes it better. There's no distraction that works," it felt undeniably good to talk to someone about it, someone who understands. Someone who doesn't subject you to the same stereotypes or think that you're making it up. He wrapped an arm around you and you instinctively rested your head in the crook of his neck. He smelled delicious, like the outdoors, mixed with the distinct notes of Marlboro cigarettes and stormy weather. This was a pretty good distraction, you thought.

"Hey, I'll always make a run into some pharmacy to get ya yer meds, or anythin' like tha'," he spoke softly with his lips resting on the top of your head, occasionally brushing against your silky hair. "Jus' tell me what ya' need." It was this. You needed this.

“I just need you.”

[yuanf3]

VIXEN — HAN SEOUL-OH

2. chapter two — "heart-to-heart"

series masterlist

A/N sorry everyone for the delay, got caught up with school - anyway, here's chapter two, hope you like it <3

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The sun bore down relentlessly, casting waves of heat that seemed to dance off the cracked pavement. Beads of sweat formed on my brow and I let out a breath but remained focused, my hands steady on the wheel of the 86’ Honda Civic. I sat patiently, my eyes fixed on the men across the street, their movements deliberate as they loaded duffel bags into the sleek black SUV. 

Come on, let's go already.

As they finally finished — thank fucking God — and climbed into the vehicle, I fired up the engine of my own car and reached for the burner phone, fingers dancing over the screen to dial Dom's number. 

"Four's on the move," I murmured into the receiver before hanging up, my attention shifting back to the road as I subtly tailed the SUV.

Minutes ticked by, the world blurring past as I kept a safe distance and weaved through the bustling streets, the black SUV never far from my sight. Then, like clockwork, I spotted a familiar 70s Dodge and beat-up Nissan idling at the intersection ahead, and I briefly glanced to my left, catching my brother staring at me. A sudden sense of realization crept into the back of my mind. I shook my head, scoffing. Our plan was working.

Another heartbeat later, and we split off in different directions, each of us playing our part. My heart raced, fueled by adrenaline cursing through my veins when Tej's voice crackled through the radio on the passenger seat, his words slicing through the tension. 

"I know y'all said they were consolidating the money somewhere, but, y'all ain't going to believe this."

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I stood under the scorching midday sun, squinting against its relentless glare as it beat down on the streets of Rio. The heat was oppressive, mirroring the tension that hung thick in the air around us. My eyes narrowed as I caught sight of the imposing building ahead, its stone facade gleaming in the sunlight — a freaking Police Station.

The irony wasn't lost on me, and I felt a wry smirk tug at the corners of my lips. Police officers bustled in and out, seeming oblivious to the criminal activity unfolding right under their noses. I wanted to scoff at the whole situation. Hernan Reyes, the notorious drug lord, hiding his ill-gotten gains right under the nose of the law. It was audacious, I had to give him that. But it also made our job that much more difficult.

"Well," Brian muttered under his breath, his hands in the pockets of his jeans, "this job just got a lot harder."

“No kidding,” I chimed in, standing beside him and crossing my arms over my chest, my expression a mix of amusement and disbelief, “We’ll have to get even more creative.”

Rome's voice cut through the tension, his disbelief palpable. "If he's moving it into a police station, he's got some serious brass in his pocket."

"Looks like this is going to be a shorter trip than I thought," Santos said in Spanish, his tone heavy with defeat and resignation. Leo's agreement was swift and vehement, "Hell, yeah, we can't do this."

“'Can't'? You mean, 'shouldn't,'" Han’s words sliced through the conversation, drawing my attention. I turned to him, a flicker of surprise at his perspective dancing in my eyes. A small smile passed between us before I quickly turned away, squashing any flicker of conflicted emotion this man’s smile stirred within me. 

Before I could dwell on it further though, Dom's voice broke through the internal turmoil. "I say we stick to the plan."

"You say what?" Roman's incredulous voice broke the silence, injecting his trademark skepticism. His words drew my attention, and I turned to him, intrigued by his reaction. He looked at Toretto as if the man lost his mind. Couldn’t blame him.

"This just went from Mission: Impossible to Mission: In-freaking-sanity," he continued to exclaim, his frustration evident in his tone.

I exchanged a knowing glance with Brian, a small smirk playing at the corner of my lips. Roman's dramatic outburst never failed to entertain.

"Whatever, man. I ain't scared, I'm just letting you all know, going in that building is crazy," he finally declared. With a shake of his head, he turned and walked away.

My brother followed his suit as he muttered, "I got this.”

Aware of the moment of silence and a whispered conversation between Leo and Santos, I stepped closer to Dom, the midday sun beating down on us, casting harsh shadows across the pavement. 

"Don't worry about him," I said, my voice carrying a hint of amusement. "Pearce is a full-time drama queen, but he'll come around. Besides, we’ve faced crazier situations than this before."

Dom nodded, his expression still serious. "Yeah, but this time we're walking into the lion's den. Reyes isn't going to make it easy for us."

I couldn't deny the truth in his words, but I had to maintain some semblance of optimism.

"True, but that's never stopped you before. You've always found a way to come out on top,” I replied, my tone firm, injecting a note of reassurance into my voice that I hoped would bolster his resolve. 

"We gotta make sure everyone's on board before we move forward,” he said, his gaze scanning the scenery ahead of us. He seemed lost in his thoughts as if this job put more pressure on him than anything ever before but he’s been like that since I’ve met him. I guessed losing the love of your life had that effect on you. 

I’ve never gotten a chance to meet Letty. It was ironic actually because my brother met up with her quite often in our apartment during her undercover work to take down Braga but I was either out with friends or working. Brian sometimes shared a few stories about her from the time when he wanted to make a detective, how he always thought that Letty had seen right through him but she never said a word. Things would’ve been different if she did. That’s why in some kind of a twisted way, I owed her. 

"Agreed," I affirmed, crossing my arms on my chest and then shrugged, following Dom’s gaze. "No biggie. Just remind them of the 11 million they're getting."

My attempt at levity didn't go unnoticed. I grinned and watched as a brief crack in his serious demeanor appeared and a hint of a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. Bullseye. 

It was good to loosen up a bit, especially during moments like this, so I liked to think that sometimes optimism was the best thing one could ask for in times of struggle. And I was here to provide it. 

Because God only knew how much I needed it.

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The dimly section of the warehouse cast shadows across our faces as we gathered around the table. Out of pure coincidence, I stood beside Han, my senses on high alert while the place seemed to shrink with every second that went by. I felt like I was sixteen again, having a crush on a boy who helped out in Brian’s garage part-time, only to find out he was gay and worked there to ogle my brother. Tough times. Learned my lesson, never again. 

That’s why irritation grew inside me like a parasite and the uncomfortable feeling of awkwardness washed over me as the scent of his perfume lingered in my senses and my attention was divided between the man to my right and the task at hand. His presence was like a magnetic force I couldn't ignore, even as I desperately tried to focus on Mia’s briefing.

"The beauty of public offices?” She leaned over the table, a roll-up in hand, exposing the blueprints of the Police Station we wanted to break into. I was aware of the fact of how ridiculous it sounded. “Public records."

Brian's finger jabbed at a point in the labyrinth of walls and measurements. "This is where he's keeping the money. The vault in the evidence room."

“Um. Uh, yeah. Can I get everyone's attention, right here, for a second?” Tej interjected, raising his finger. “We're talking about breaking into a police station.”

Silence fell upon us as everyone waited for him to elaborate. “Is anyone listening to those words? Anybody? Popo? Five-O. One-time. Pigs. People we don't like.”

He’s got a point.

"You know, police stations are designed to keep people in, not out,” Han spoke calmly, glancing toward Dom, who observed with a cautious and sharp gaze. I could almost see gears turning in his head like the man was coming up with a detailed plan on the spot. 

My brother nodded in agreement. "That's why it's a stealth mission. We'll be in and out before they even know we were there."

"Well, we'll need to get eyes in there,” I chimed in, already getting an idea of what we could use. Or rather who. “At least to find out the make and model of that vault."

"So the vault and then, so…” Roman muttered probably to no one specifically, seemingly lost in thought, making a sudden, weird gesture towards the papers. “It's crazy. Who's supposed to do all this?"

Without missing a beat, I exchanged a knowing glance with Brian before turning to Pearce. Another wave of silence settled between our group as the man in question looked around, bewildered by our sudden focus on him. I raised my eyebrow, waiting for him to realize what was going on. His eureka moment occurred a second later.

"What do you mean? Why me?"

"Because you got the biggest mouth,” I stated matter-of-factly as if it were the most obvious answer in the world. My smile was sweet as honey when I earned a scoff from Tej, a couple of snickers from the others, and a very offended stare-down from Rome.

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The sun cast hues of orange and pink across the sky as I stood alone on the rooftop of the warehouse, the wind whispering against my bare skin. I closed my eyes, allowing myself to relax, even if just for a second. It was moments like these that made me forget the troubles that constantly haunted me. 

Brian, Tej, and Rome had gone to the station to get an idea of what exactly we were about to encounter and it was nothing that we hadn’t expected already, so Santos and Leo had taken over to blow up a few pipes in the main bathroom. It wasn’t much of a surprise to see these two smiling like Cheshire cats when they heard what their job was. It was safe to say that I had my doubts but hey, gotta be positive, right?

Just as I began to lose myself in the beauty of the scene unfolding in front of me, my phone interrupted the moment with a sharp ding.

“There goes my peace,” I muttered to myself. Sighing, I pulled the phone out of my pocket and glanced down to see a text from an unknown number flashing on the screen. My brows furrowed and I quickly unlocked the screen, my eyes going back and forth as I read the message that immediately sent an unpleasant shiver down my spine.

Have fun in Brazil, love. I’ll see you soon.

The words hit me like a punch to the gut, igniting a surge of anger and panic within me. It was like the wind got knocked out of me and my heart sank as painful memories flood back, memories I've tried so hard to bury from a time when I had been naive and desperate. I never told Brian how badly I’ve struggled after I’ve moved to London. I didn’t want him to know about that part of my life where I made mistakes that almost cost me my life.

Those first few months after my move, when I was vulnerable and alone, struggling to make ends meet and juggling between studies and two jobs, were terrifying. My brother was gone, disappeared without a trace, I was hit with the enormous amount of assignments and I was about to be evicted from my apartment.

Then I met Owen. He appeared like a savior, dazzling me with his charm, his sophistication, his extravagant gestures that seemed straight out of a fairy tale. Back then, I had been naive, craving affection and stability in a city that felt alien and hostile. 

I thought I loved him. He had swept me off my feet with his lavish dates, his expensive gifts, his promises of a life I had only ever dreamed of. And as simple as that, I had fallen. Oh, how I had fallen, head over heels, straight into his trap. I hadn't even stopped to question the sincerity of his words or the intentions behind his actions. I was too enraptured by the illusion he had crafted around me, too desperate to believe that someone like him could truly care for someone like me. Someone so insecure and scared.

I didn’t realize who he was until it was already too late. The facade had slowly begun to crack, revealing the darkness lurking beneath the surface. And then, when I finally dared to confront him, to demand the truth I had been too afraid to seek, he’d shown his true colors. The subtle manipulation, the way he always seemed to know just what to say or do to keep me ensnared in his web. I was so blinded by the illusion of love that I never stopped to question the price I was paying.

And I’ve paid a fortune. I’ve paid in tears shed in the dead of night when I thought no one was watching. In missed calls from my friends, whose concerns were silenced by Shaw, and in the gradual erosion of my self-worth, chipped away bit by bit until there was almost nothing left. It was a miracle I’ve managed to leave him, but I wouldn’t be able to if it wasn’t for Hilly and Jessie. 

Now, a fury surged through my veins. I wanted to throw my phone against the concrete floor, to scream out in frustration and defiance. But instead, I took a deep breath and forced myself to ignore the message, to push it aside like I've pushed aside so many other reminders of my past. If he was going to try and get me, I’d welcome him with open arms and a gun pointed at his head. 

With a sharp exhale, I dismissed the text, refusing to let fear consume me. The hatred I’ve felt towards Shaw had reached a level that could no longer be described with words but with actions. 

As I stared at the vanishing sun, lost in my thoughts, I was abruptly startled by the sound of footsteps approaching behind me. Instinctively, my body tensed, ready to defend myself against any potential threat. But before I could react further, a familiar voice broke through the tension.

"Quite the view, isn't it?"

Han's voice was calm and reassuring, instantly soothing the frayed edges of my nerves. Slowly, I turned to face him, my heartbeat gradually returning to its normal rhythm. He had a small smile engraved within his stoic expression.

I nodded, a faint smile tugging at the corners of my lips. "Yeah, it is."

"Brian sent me up here to find you,” he said and stepped closer, his presence comforting yet electrifying all at once as he stood next to me. “They're looking for you,"

Sorry. My crazy ex just texted me and almost scared the shit out of me. I felt like that would’ve been a conversation breaker, so instead, I sighed, tearing my gaze away from the horizon with a pang of guilt for disappearing without a word. Should’ve told someone I was coming here. "Well, you found me."

My gaze caught with his as his gaze lingered on me with an intensity that sent an unexpected shiver down my spine. There was a brief silence between us, but it was not uncomfortable. Instead, it was filled with an unspoken understanding, a sense that Han saw right through the walls I've built around myself, and at that moment, I couldn't help but wonder what he saw when he looked at me. 

I felt exposed under his scrutiny. It was as if he saw through the facade I'd carefully crafted, glimpsing the turmoil that lay beneath. Panic threatened to claw its way back into my chest, but I pushed it down, refusing to let it surface.

Swallowing the bitter taste that formed in my mouth, I decided to break the silence, my voice steady. "I just needed a moment alone.”

"I get it," he replied simply, his tone gentle yet reassuring. His dark eyes met mine, and a shiver ran down my spine. But beneath the surface, there was a tension, a hesitation that I couldn’t quite shake. This was dangerous. This… This whole situation was a disaster waiting to unfold and I couldn’t afford to let myself get too close. I burned myself once and I got a reminder of the consequences not that long ago. Fear gripped me tightly, twisting my insides into knots as I tried to suppress the memories of my past but I wasn’t brave enough to do so.

Instinctively, I step back, creating a safe distance between us. It's not that I didn’t trust Han, despite meeting him only a few days ago. I didn’t trust myself and there was something about our connection that both enticed and terrified me. 

God, I was a mess, wasn’t I?

"Come on," Han's voice interrupted my tumultuous thoughts, breaking the spell that bound us in this moment of uncertainty. "Let's head back down."

I nodded silently, torn between the urge to flee and the longing to stay. But as I took a step forward to walk past him into the warehouse, heading towards the stairwell, I fought to ignore the ache that spread in my chest.

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series masterlist

[owlwithanapple]

Your Hero

He is one of my favorite characters in mha. I want to write a future version of Bakugou Katsuki, I hope you guys will like it. 😘

Part 1.

( Bakugou Katsuki X Y/N )

This is a superhuman society, with 80% of us possessing some uncanny ability. Cities swirled with chaos and confusion following the appearance of these powers, and a new profession emerged. We call those who fight for justice and help others in need heroes.

Bakugou Katsuki, 25 years old. Hero Name Great Explosion Murder God: Dynamight, the hero who uses explosion Quirk. A young top professional hero in Japan, established his own hero agency a few years later.

Dynamight Agency——

"Tchh...another resignation." Bakugou put the employee's resignation letter on the table.

"Hahaha, Lord Dynamight has a bad temper and looks fierce." Kaminari laughed.

"Shut up! Why do you come into my office!" Bakugou shouted.

"Come and visit your office and see the secretary by the way~" Kaminari visited the office.

"Tchhh! What a pity! Get out of here!" Bakugou shouted.

"Bakugou~ Be kind to people~ How many beautiful secretaries have resigned like this?" Kaminari said.

"Shut up! Dunce face! It's their poor ability to do things!" Bakugou complained.

"Emergency rescue! For the nearby heroes please go to the rescue immediately! Villain is out!" Urgent notice.

"Tch! Work is coming! Hey! Dunce face! Get out of here before I come back!" Bakugou flew out of the window.

"That guy still busy as usual. It's worthy of being the Top Hero. " Kaminari looked at the window.

Urban area——

Your name is Y/N, 23 years old. Professional hero, just returned from the United States. Hero Name is Wind Breaker, a hero who uses the wind attribute.

You walked leisurely on the street, and the long-lost return life has finally come. Suddenly there was an earthquake, you felt an ominous premonition. Then you heard a lot of howls, and saw a lot of people running away.

Intuition tells you that something must have happened ahead. You ran to find out, suddenly exploded after hearing a loud noise in the distance. High-rise buildings fall and many broken rubble will hit nearby citizens. You release a whirlwind to blow away the rubble to avoid hitting people.

A floor of a tall building is burning and emitting black smoke, to avoid being smoked you take out a handkerchief from pocket to cover your nose and mouth. Near the building, you can see several heroes rescuing and evacuating the crowd.

When you want to get close, there is a second harsh loud noise. You squat on the ground and cover your ears. You have a little impression of this sound. A few seconds later, a layer exploded again dropping a lot of rubble on the ground.

You release a wide range of whirlwinds blowing away the falling rubble. It is remembered that the explosion is connected to the loud noise, which is the signal to start the explosion. You run in the direction of the hero and inform them.

You didn't notice a piece of rubble falling in your direction for a moment. Suddenly, someone grabbed the falling rubble and blew it up, you released the whirlwind to blow away the broken rubble. You didn't react for a moment. You looked at the person floating in the air.

"Idiot! Hurry up and take refuge!" He shouted at you.

You heard him yell at you, and you said to him in anger, "Huh?! If you have the guts, say it again! You hedgehog head!"

The third loud noise sounded again, you covered your ears and looked up at the tall building. You are calculating the timing of the third explosion. Think that the timing of the first and second signals is random, not a fixed time, so someone must be controlling it.

A few seconds later, the third explosion occurred, and the hero blew the falling rubble into pieces in front of you. You release the strong wind and blow away the fragments everywhere.

"Hey, you! What if you blow up the rubble like this and hit the citizens!" You talk about him.

"Then why don't you take refuge!" He said loudly to you.

"Dynamight! Thank you for the rescue! There have been three explosions in a row, and it is difficult for us to enter the internal investigation. " A rescue hero said.

"The trap set by Villain is nearby. The loud noise and the timing of the explosion are random. Maybe someone is controlling it nearby." The hero named Dynamight said.

Although the man named Dynamight in front of you is very irritable, but you have the same idea as him. This person is a professional hero, you admire his observation and logical thinking.

"Hedgehog, you're not bad and smart." You poke him on the shoulder and say.

"Woman! Say the hedgehog again, I'll blow you up! My name is Dynamight! Remember it! Get out of here and take refuge!" He stared at you and said loudly.

"I'm sorry to bother you. I just saw through the drone that there were still children who hadn't escaped yet." A rescue hero interrupted.

"What!?" You and Dynamight are surprised.

"Hey, woman! Take refuge! I'll go inside to save people! Others go nearby to find Villain!" Dynamight said.

"Wait a time! Hedgehog head! I can go inside to save people! You go and find Villain!" You stopped Dynamight and said.

"Woman, you...!" When Dynamight is ready to yell at you.

"I can control the wind to blow away the fire. At least the children inside can be rescued safely. Time is limited, the fourth explosion will come at any time. Take advantage of this time to find Villain nearby and knock him down directly. " You say the plan.

Dynamight looked at you angrily, but he thought your plan was worth implementing. Other rescue heroes can only be found on land, but he can search in the air at the fastest speed. He noticed your reaction ability and controlling Quirks, he sighed and stared at you.

"Hey, woman." He stared at you.

"What?" You stare back at him.

"You are not allowed to die." Dynamight carry you on his shoulder.

"Hey! Put me down! Where are you touching!" You beat him on the back.

He carried you and suddenly rushed into the air, you were so scared and grabbed him tightly. When reach the window, he throws you in hard, and you release the wind to surround yourself and land safely.

"Hedgehog head, you are not a gentleman!" You shouted at him and turned around to enter the fire.

"Hey, woman! Dont die!" Dynamight shouted.

"Shut up, hedgehog." You walk into the fire.

"Tchhh..." Dynamight flew high in search of Villain.

You release a whirlwind to surround yourself and separate the black smoke from the fire to avoid being smoked. You walk slowly to look around, you hear someone asking for help. You saw two children in that direction. One of them had fainted and the other was crying for help.

You are close to check the two children, there are no skin injuries. You carried them on your shoulders and ran to the window just now. You saw the rescue hero downstairs waving to you. You release the protection layer of the wind to surround the children and slowly land them to the rescue hero.

"Well done, woman." Dynamight is looking from a distance.

"If you want to transmit the signal and the timing of detonation, you need to see the process clearly and seize the timing, so it must not be far from Villain. Tall buildings... A high place..." Dynamight thinking.

Dynamight looked at the opposite building and saw a figure. Villain noticed it and ready to pack up and evacuate, Dynamight rushed to him.

"Bingo...Villain!" Dynamight shouted at him.

Dynamight released a flash bomb to temporarily blind Villain, then went around kicked him down to subdue him.

"Have fun? Villain!" Dynamight shouted to him.

"Hehehe, what about your friend?" Villain said.

After Villain finished speaking, he pressed the button and there was a loud noise. Dynamight knocked Villain hard and stunned him then grabbed the remote from in his hand.

"Damn!" Dynamight rushes to your position.

This loud noise will make you guess that Dynamight has found Villain, then Villain directly presses the button to prepare for the explosion. The fourth loud noise is very loud, which means that you are very close to the bomb.

There is no time to find out the location of the bomb. You run to the window and prepare to jump down. Dynamight looks at you close to the window and rushes directly to you. You noticed that he was approaching, and you jumped out without saying a word.

A few seconds after you jumped, there was an explosion behind you. Dynamight rushed in your direction to catch you, you looked at the direction of the explosion and sighed. You glad you reacted, otherwise you would have been blown up. After, you noticed that you were in mid-air and catched by Dynamight.

"Nice catch! Hedgehog head!" You said with a smile.

"If you say it again, I'll throw you down!" Dynamight said.

"Try it, I'm fine. I can fly." You teased and said.

"Tchhh! If I had known, I wouldn't have catched you!" Dynamight looks to the other side.

"Hahaha! I know you will come to save me. You say.

"Woman, you knew from the beginning that I would catch you, so you didn't use the ability in the end, right?" Dynamight stared at you and asked.

"No. Because I believe that Dynamight will come to save me. " You said with a smile.

Don't know why you are so embarrassed to call him Dynamight.

"Alright! I'm landing now!" Dynamight slowly landed on the ground.

He put you safely on the ground, you stand firm and ready to leave the scene. You turned your head and looked at him, he noticed that and were also looking at you. You want to thank him, but don't understand why it's a little difficult for him. After thinking about it, you still smiled at him and left.

"You have a good smile, woman.“ Dynamight whispered.

After knocking down the Villain, the heroes immediately entered the high-rise building for a search. Find the bomb and then dismantle it. Dynamight conducted a final inspection in mid-air.

You get home and lie on the sofa to rest, remember the hero named Dynamight just now. You search him at social platforms on your mobile phone and find the amazing truth. He is a top professional hero. Although he has a bad personality, you admire him inexplicably.

"The hedgehog! so powerful... But he is not a gentleman at all!" You lay on the sofa and said.

Part 1 end.

*If you have any ideas, you can leave them in the comment section, and I will try to add in the story.*

[we-loved-once-and-true]

Two's a Party, Three's... a Bigger Party

Reader and Javier are friends with benefits who use the cover of overnight jobs to release some tension. When new guy Charles joins the gang, Dutch insists he joins them on one of their trips. Will the presence of this gorgeous stranger throw a hammer in their plans, or are these jobs about to get a lot more fun?

Chapter One: Heatstroke

Chapter Two Tumblr // AO3

1527 words Read on AO3

You and Javier prepare for a robbery over in West Elizabeth, a welcome change from the New Austin sun and the relentless tension building between you. Was it the heat or the heat that gave you heatstroke?

F!Reader x Javier x Charles / porn with plot / ch1 suggestive, smut coming in ch2 / reader not described but mentions being from the east coast / pre-Blackwater / the camp is Twin Rocks in New Austin / no whump but reader has heatstroke / we'll meet Charles in ch 3

The midday sun bore into your skin, beads of sweat rolled down your back. The bandana that swept the sweat from your brow was now too damp to do much good, and was resigned to stop the burning metal of the rifle from blistering your hands.

You were going to kill Bill Williamson.

He knew it was his guard shift when he left to go “hunting”. You should have known you’d end up on guard duty; the heat making your blood boil had made you quite an annoyance for Grimshaw. You were too warm to sit and sew, too hot to labour over laundry, and no way were you willing to make your horse endure the sun anymo than necessary. As Bill trotted out of Twin Rocks, you could already sense Grimshaw’s focus on you.

With half an hour left, you resigned yourself to another pace around the camp. Usually, behind the old buildings would provide a little shade, but the punishing noon sun banished shadows from appearing. As you approached the back of camp, you squinted to look up at the hills. New Austin burned, but God was it beautiful.

“Careful, cariño, someone might sneak up on you,” a smooth voice teased from behind you. Spinning around, you saw Javier leaning against the wall, a cigarette hanging from his smirk, his face even more tanned than usual. His eyes narrowed in the glare of the sun as he looked at you from under his sombrero, the wide brim casting the only shadow for miles around. You had never wanted one more.

“Didn’t sneak up on me Escuella,” you lied with a grin, “I saw ya, just didn’t think you were much of a threat.” Your voice was slightly breathless - as far as handling the weather, you were haggard compared to the Mexican relaxing in front of you.

He chuckled softly, “That right, cariño?” His gaze shifted slightly, taking in more of your figure, causing a shiver to run through you. “Guess I haven’t been able to show off my skills recently… been a while since we last did a job, ay?”

Fighting your bashful blush, you looked away and blew a loose strand of hair from your face. You didn’t have to look at him to know he was watching your lips. You licked them before speaking, not acknowledging the shaky breath in front of you, “Has been some time, huh? I’ve been too busy scrubbing the constant dust from all our clothes to find any leads.” You kept your voice neutral incase anyone overheard, but you hoped your apology was apparent to him.

He clicked his tongue and pushed off the wall, “No worries, cariño, I got ya. Well, John said somethin’ about a stagecoach. Probably not as interesting as your laundry though.” Javier was now standing as close as he could while being in the camp; close enough to see the depths of his eyes, but not arouse suspicion. The perfect distance to make your heart jump, to make your face flush, to make you dizzy in anticipation.

There were rumours from the get-go about the two of you. The two newest recruits of the Van der Linde gang, inseparable as if from birth, found a fast and deep friendship in one another. Javier, heartbroken and forced from his home. You, having lost your family and prospects. You joined after attempting to pick-pocket Mary-Beth, who took pity on your starved and scared face, and saw a little of herself in you. You sheepishly returned her pocket watch, she apologetically returned your coin purse.

Less than a few months later, Dutch rode in with another lost soul, this one a ravenous and bloodstained foreigner. As Mary-Beth had with you, you saw yourself in his sunken face. You volunteered to help him, teaching him English and soothing him from his manic nightmares. In turn, he taught you to live by the ways of shooting and fishing. Together, you rebuilt yourselves, perfecting your partnership in crime. As to not disturb the girls you bunked with during his nightly terrors, you unceremoniously moved your bedroll into his lean-to. He didn’t look up from sharpening his knife when he told you to make yourself at home. His nightmares came less frequently.

Your friendship was natural, moving in sync and communicating with a glance. The rumours, therefore, were expected. Mary-Beth would embellish your fondness of the new mysterious revolutionary into little teases and tales. For years, you both insisted you were only friends, and for years you were telling the truth.

A job in Nevada turned sour fast, and through a storm of bullets you both escaped - nearly unscathed. Banged up from the fight and with a bullet gash in your thigh, you ended up laying on a musty cot in an abandoned cabin as Javier’s slim and precise fingers stitched you up, straddling your legs to hold you still. A bandaged leg and several bottles of whiskey later, you found yourself straddling him, fingers in his hair, kissing him like you needed him to survive.

His heart was still broken. You still wanted the freedom of a woman not spoken-for. So, friends you remained.

Long missions would keep you both from camp for a few days. Travel out, rob, hide, travel back. The adrenaline, the rush, the celebratory liquor - it was a routine between best friends. It wasn’t love - not in the traditional sense - but it was passion.

You threw yourself down on your bedroll, a long heavy sign releasing the stress from your body. The short shadow of your lean-to left your lower legs and feet in the sun, but the relief on your face and arms was heavenly. Your legs were lead and your blistered feet throbbed in your boots. Aching muscles and imminent heat stroke distracted you from approaching footsteps, the jingling of spurs muffled by a pounding headache.

You flinched at the cold cloth touching your face. “Easy, cariño,” his familiar voice cooed, “I’ll get you some water.” The cold bandana eased the stinging of your face; taking deep breaths, you smelt the tobacco and aftershave that soaked the fibres of Javier’s clothes (and, by proxy, quite a few of yours). A sloshing sound told you Javier had returned with your full canteena. Propping yourself up, you gulped down the water with desperate gratitude, the dizziness of heat stroke fading. Returning yourself to your pillow, you allowed the cloth to block the light and let the pull of sleep take over, barely aware of Javier’s gentle strumming.

You stirred awake, wiping your face with Javier’s bandana. Mid-afternoon sunlight dazzled your eyes, but thankfully offered you a larger shade, as if to apologise for its earlier abuse. Sitting, you brought the canteena to your lips, gulping down the refreshing water. In your grogginess, you vaguely noticed it had been refilled.

“Enjoy your siesta, hermosa?” You looked beside you to Javier sitting on his bedroll with his map open in front of him, watching you with a fond smile.

“Yeah, thanks for the water,” you raised your bottle towards him. “Guess the heat got to me.”

Javier hummed lightheartedly, “Don’t worry about it, we can’t all be blessed with my sun-tolerance.”

“Hah! I’d like to see you try snow-tolerance,” you thought back to your childhood on the east coast. “Bet you wouldn’t have made it to noon.”

“Good luck getting me anywhere past West Elizabeth. Speaking of which,” he pulled the map closer to you, “I’ve drawn out our route for tomorrow, what do you think?” He looked up and paused at your confused expression, “Cariño?”

The last thing you really remembered was the way Javier was looking at you, his smirk, his suggestion at doing a job together-

“Oh!” He smiled as your memory came back, the fog from the heat stroke disappearing. John had followed the lead of a banking coach crossing West Elizabeth once a month. Some other job had taken John’s attention, so Javier had volunteered to follow up on it. The invitation of three days alone with Javier was too tempting - so did a few days out of the New Austin sun. “Yes! The bak thing in West- yeah! I remember. When’re we going?”

“Careful hermosa, you might get faint again,” his sultry voice teased, flashing a toothy grin. “I reckon we leave first thing: we can get to Blackwater, stake out the roads, find a place to, ahhh, bunk down for the night,” he traced a long finger along the road he had drawn on his map. His suggestive wording was paired with a subtle glance at you, pleased to see you looked as excited as him. “Next day, we hit the coach. Hide out as usual, be back the day after. Hopefully,” he added dryly.

“Hopefully,” you repeated. “You know if Blackwater has a hotel? Or are we, uh, roughing it?” The innuendoes could pass as a poor choice of words for eavesdropping ears, but all they did was fuel the fire that was building up between the two of you.

“Don’t worry about it, hermosa,” he reassured you with a dark laugh, “I’ll make sure you’re well taken care of.”

This is my first upload for RDR so please please let me know if you have any feedback ! Any and all comments are appreciated ♡ Porn is coming in Part 2, then we'll be meeting Charles, so I hope you hang around for a bit ! Thanks for reading, enjoy xoxo

[getinthefuckingjaeger]

Sensory Prompt: 20 (Reflections in Glass), Buck and Bucky

(4&38)

(for @jakes3resin - its been in the drafts for a couple of weeks, since the first time you floated the idea)

“Jesus, Buck.” 

The sounds of a quiet sigh and the rustling of pressed uniform tickles Gale’s ears as he struggles to pick up his head from the bowl of his folded arms.

Slow as molasses, he opens his eyes with the window in his line of sight. It’s early - or so late that it’s early. The world outside is a still-life painting of sleeping high rise buildings, all covered under the shadows of the blue-black darkness of twilight. His own reflection in the window watched him right back, sunken tired eyes and all.  

He blinks hard, once, then deflates. 

In the semi-darkness of a city nightscape, Gale finds himself on the floor and folded nearly in half, back curved like a bow with his folded arms resting on the low coffee table in front of the window. His back aches, his legs numb, and his neck protests as he pushes himself away from the coffee table and slumps against the side of the hotel bed. At least the carpet is lush, he muses, hands rubbing and grabbing the fibers. 

He stares blankly at his reflection in the window, seeing without truly seeing the sleeping city beyond the glass panes. He sits in the quiet like a sentinel. 

Waiting.  

“Buck.” 

Another sigh, this time exasperated, bounces in the silence of this magic hour. Gale closes his eyes for half a second. Fear and resignation stir and fall into a familiar dance in him. Gale hears the familiar sounds again - the whispers of a starched uniform fold and give with every movement. His eyes falls from his reflection in the darkened window to right hand, studying the way the carpet peeks between the valleys of his fingers. 

“Buck come on, man.”

Only a little reluctantly did Gale lift his eyes from the carpet to the darkened window. He watches as a familiar figure bleeds into existence in the window, like a drop of color in a glass of water. Gale sees a man crouching beside him with his elbows resting on his knees, his handsome side profile tarnished only by the slight displeased pout of his lips.

Gale hums in acknowledgement. He is too tired to shake off this daydream, too wrung out to pretend that he does not welcome his specter, too empty to pretend that he doesn’t want to fall into its arms and follow it into the dark.

“I’ve never been more glad than I am now that you don’t drink - I’ll never complain about that ever again, hand to God.” 

He watches his specter rub its fingers over the prolific mustache - a gesture he has seen thousands of times in their short lifetime together. Gale feels the warmth of unshed tears starts to build and nausea climbs up his throat. 

There’s an animal made of love living in his chest, one that used to be soft and sweet, pliant and receptive to Gale’s touches and kisses. All that cloying sweetness is now gone, leaving a feral living-dead beast in its wake that lives off grief and regret, and it is clawing to get out - through bones, muscles and tendons. It is willing to claw its way out to freedom even if it kills Gale. 

And Gale, who has never let go of anything that he loves and loves him back, hopes that the beast does kill him when it escapes because at least then, he won’t have to live without it. 

He watches the man in the window settle beside him, pressed together from shoulder to elbow while the man’s long legs are splayed carelessly in contrast to Gale’s crossed legs. He thinks, with no small amount of jealousy, that the Gale in the window must be warming up now - that body in the window has always emit warmth like a furnace when it lived and breathed.

Curt used to drape his entire body over that broad, reliable back and made a show of sighing in contentment, delighted in the knowledge that he’s safe from Gale’s chronic inability to share. 

This is why I’m the big spoon, fellas. This right here is heaven.

Gale’s eyelids flutter when the animal gnaws at his breastbone. He lifts his left hand to rub his chest, his fingers firm through his soft sleeping shirt. 

“Big day, today.” 

The man in the window picks up window-Gale’s right hand and presses it between his big, labor-roughened ones. Gale watches as he fits their fingers together like puzzle-pieces before pressing their joined hands against his chest. Gale imagines he can feel the stiff material of that crisp buttoned shirt and the tie tucked neatly between the folds. 

“Listen, I don’t want you thinking that I’m all bent outta shape because you asked Benny to be your best man,” the man in the window kisses their joined hands. Gale wishes the animal in his chest would just eat his heart on its way out. “He’s a good guy, the best friend you’ll ever have. After me, that is.” 

The sky outside is starting to lighten - orange and yellow just starting to climb up the horizon, blending into the blues of the departing night sky. Their reflection in the window starts to blur at the edges with the light. Gale’s own right hand, empty of its complimentary left hand that used to belong to a man bigger than life itself, twitched. 

Eat me, kill me, do anything but don’t let me live without you. He thinks fervently as the pressure in his chest mounts, the beast’s attempt at a daring escape reaching its climax. He imagines the little beast, its mouth red with the gore of his torned-up heart, ripping into the sinews of his chest and digging its way out of its grave made of flesh and blood. 

“Someone had to go, Buck.” Gale can barely make out the outline of the man in the window with how fast the sun climbs on the horizon. He feels tears flood his eyes, his breaths coming in short and harsh. He sees a beautiful smile bloom on that beloved face, one so earnest that the force of it pushes beautiful blue eyes into crescent moons that used to light Gale’s night. “And I’m glad it was me, not you.” 

Gale can feel the animal’s claws piercing the skin of his chest now - so vividly that he wonders if he will see red bleed through his sleep shirt if he looks down. He wonders if his lifeblood will soak into this stupid lush carpet that he’s been ruining with his fingers for want of something else - something untouchable, unattainable, something stolen from him- to latch onto. 

His breaths are coming in too fast, too short. His eyes are overflowing. There is no way to stop the storm. He is drowning on dry land.

“I did set it up right.” 

The man in the window is just a blur of colors now, like watercolors on cellulose paper. Dark curls a blob of black, blending into splashes of beige, that bleeds into the drab olive of their uniforms. Despite all that, Gale can just see enough to pretend that the man is kissing window-Gale’s temple. 

His mind frantically searches through its ruined depths to pull up memories of the same lips pressing countless kisses to his face, his body, every inch of his skin in secrecy, hidden in alcoves and abandoned sheds and in the belly of a decommissioned B-17. He craves the sensation of warm dry lips against his skin, the euphoria of soaking up little pieces of John Egan's soul through skin to skin contact.

Sunrise peeks through the window. Its blood orange color spills onto the hotel floor like spilled wine, slowly but surely staining the carpet. 

“I just set it up for you.” 

The animal bursts through Gale’s chest in a mess of grief, blood, and gore. It tears a wretched sob from his throat, long overdue, for the first time since he jumped over that wall in Germany. 

The sun rises.

And his John is gone.

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(read my partner in crime's thought's on this)