#like ye gotta have some more men and sweat and rock n roll and feel the close space to the stage and ye know

[agapintheskin]

Man yesterday night's Ezra Furman concert was so good. I missed concerts so much, this really was soul filling. So good. she covered because the night by patti smith as a closure and it was the besssst. *yells into the void* thank u @geisternatur best birthday gift by a long shot!

[multiplefandomfics]

Vacation

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Virgin!PlusSize!reader

Warnings: self consciousness, unprotected smut, authority kink, daddy kink, angst, fluff

Words:3295

You were sitting in a bar somewhere in Croatia. Frustrated about the turn of recent events.

The trip was supposed to be about you and your friends. Just enjoying the sun and ocean. No boys allowed! But then on the 2nd evening your friends had abandoned you at the bar to go clubbing with some boys from spain. Fan-fucking-tastic, you thought.

There went your nice all girls vacation. The way you knew your friends you weren't going to see them for a while.

Just as you were about to pay your tab and leave, someone sat down next to you and started talking. “Hi, sweetheart. You alone here?” he didn’t say much but you recognized that voice immediately. Your head snapped upwards and your eyes widened. Of all the people you would have never expected him there. Sebastian Stan. The man of your wet dreams.

You fumbled your phone out of your purse and unlocked the screen. Yep, he was definitely the man from your wallpaper.

“You okay there?” he asked, smiling before his eyes fell on your background picture.

“Oh, so you know me.” he figured.

“Ehm, yeah, yeah I do. Holy shit you’re even more beautiful in person.” you swooned.

He laughed heartily at that and ordered you and himself another drink.

“What are you doing here? Aren’t you with your girlfriend on vacation? Sorry if I give off stalker vibes” you turned red faced.

“That’s a long story but to cut to the chase, I don’t have a girlfriend anymore.” his face turned slightly sour at the thought of his ex.

“Oh, I’m genuinely sorry to hear that. She seemed to make you happy.”

“Well, she did. But not anymore. So enough of her, what’s your name and what are you doing here?” He changed the topic.

“How rude of me, my name is Y/N and I was initially here to have a nice week with my girls. But now they've abandoned me in favor of some guys. So I decided to have a few drinks by myself and then go back to the house we rented.” you let all your frustration out.

“Wow, that sounds terrible. But the night doesn’t have to end like this. Would you like to dance?” he asked friendly.

“I can’t dance.” you objected.

“I’ll lead you, come on.” he paid for both of your drinks and then held out his hand for you to take. And how could you say no to that face?

“Alright. Let’s do this. And thanks for the drinks but you didn’t need to pay for me.” you told him.

“I know. You look like you could hold your own but I simply wanted to pay.” he grinned and you accepted his answer.

He pulled you onto the kinda crowded dance floor and guided your hands on his shoulders. Then he guided your clumsy body to the beat and soon it started to be real funny.

“Okay, that was fun but I need a break. And preferably some fresh air.” you yelled over the music out of breath.

He understood and took you outside in front of the bar and a bit away from the entrance where the smokers stood.

“See I told you if you ease into things and give me a chance I can make this a night you won’t forget.” he grinned, mischievously.

“A bit cheeky aren’t we?” you tried to play his game but his advances made you a bit uncomfortable to say the least.

The thing was, you didn’t decide on a men free vacation with your friends because you wanted to get a break from all the guys pursuing you at home but because your friends were constantly surrounded by guys and only talked about their experiences with the opposite sex and that reminded you of how inexperienced you were.

You had always been self conscious. Your girl friends were always tall and skinny or at least of normal weight and could wear all the trendiest clothes but you could not shop for nice wearables so easily. And as if that wasn’t bad enough, when you went out with your friends and you had really given your look everything, still they were advanced by men and you weren’t. It was frustrating.

That brought you back to the situation at hand- why did Sebastian Stan, Hollywood hottie, decide to pick you out of all these beautiful girls at the bar? It was a riddle to you.

“Can I ask you something?” you hesitantly asked.

“Anything.” he smiled.

“Why did you want to talk to me?”

The hurt in your eyes told him that you were genuinely interested in an honest answer.

“Because you seemed lonely and so am I. Also you are beautiful and now I know that you are kind and funny, too. You are perfect.” you couldn’t believe that.

“Are you serious? Me? Perfect? You have gotta be kidding me!” you scoffed.

“Why would I? In you I see something permanent. Something that could develop into more. What do you see?” he asked, concerned.

“I don’t know. I just have never heard that I am beautiful from a man before.” you looked down, embarrassed.

“You can’t be serious! What kind of stupid idiots have you met in your life before?” he asked, astonished.

“The kind that wants a model type by their side. Just the kind of arm candy you should have by yours too. Not a chubby girl like me. I’m sorry I wasted your time.” you had to hold back tears at your confession and wanted to turn around to leave. But he grabbed your arm and forced you to look at him. “Hey, don’t go. I meant what I said. I am sorry that you have only been hurt by men so far but I promise I’m not like that. You can rely on me. I really want to get to know you. Let me take you home and we watch a movie or something? It’s only 10pm. No strings attached.” he offered.

That did sound like a dream and you decided quickly that you had nothing to lose if you said yes.

“Okay. The house is right up that hill and behind that little bit of forest.” you informed him.

He offered his arm, gentlemen like and you took it.

“So where are you from when you are on vacation here at the moment?” he asked to make smalltalk.

“I’m from Germany.”

“Impossible! I heard Germans speak English and they have a strong accent. You have barely an accent and I would have placed you closer to the states.” he was surprised.

“I hear that a lot actually. But I have never been to the US. I just watch a lot of movies and TV shows in English. And I read books in English too.” you smiled bashfully.

“That’s amazing. I think I have a stronger european accent than you do and I’ve lived in the US since I was 12.” he laughed.

“Well, English is my comfort language so I’m always happy when I can use it.” you said nonchalantly.

“Marvelous. You’re amazing.” he complimented.

“Oh, stop it.” you turned red.

“I’m only saying what's true.”

“You’re too kind.”

You walked uphill towards the small wood you had to cross, in the dark. Great idea!

He walked pretty fast and you had to almost jog to keep up with him which made you sweat and got you terribly out of breath.

When the trees around you got thicker and it got even darker it happened. You stepped on a rock, it rolled to the side and you twisted your ankle.

“Shit! Ouch!” you exclaimed loudly.

“What happened?” he asked scared.

“Twisted my ankle. It’s just too fucking dark.” you were angry at yourself for being so stupid.

“Damn. Can you step on your foot?” he asked.

“I don’t know. But what other options do we have? I gotta try.”

You stepped from your left foot onto your right and it buckled beneath you under the pain. “Fuck!”

“Okay that won’t work.” he stated and the next second he just picked you up bridal style and started to carry you on.

“Are you crazy? Let me down. I’m definitely too heavy to carry.” you ordered him.

“No, you are not. And when you try to hobble home we won’t make it until sunrise. So now shut up and let me carry you.” he silenced you efficiently.

“But take a break if you need to, and you will need one eventually.” you mumbled.

The rest of the way you held onto him and buried your face in his neck. Damn, did he smell good. It almost made you moan.

When you arrived at the door he didn’t let you down as you would have expected him to, no, he grabbed the keys from your hands, opened the door and carried you into the living room to lay you down on the couch.

“Thank you Sebastian. You are so kind. What can I ever do to repay you?” you asked him.

“Hmm, maybe let me kiss you?” he suggested and you had to swallow nervously. He immediately picked up on your hesitation “Only if you want to of course.”

“Sure I want to, but… I have never kissed anyone before.” you averted your eyes in embarrassment.

“Then let me change that, please.” he begged. You saw no resentment or reproach in his beautifully blue eyes.

Of course you caved and nodded your consent.

He leaned closer to your crouched form on the couch, put his hand on your thigh and brushed his lips to yours.

The kiss was sweet and careful not to startle you or demand something from you that you could feel uncomfortable with.

“So how was your first kiss?” he asked and smiled.

“Very nice.” you looked blissed out at him. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me. I would really love to do that again.”

“Please do.” you confirmed.

Oh and he did. The kiss was magical. This time he pushed his tongue sensually into your mouth and you were stunned how good that felt.

“You okay?” he wanted to know afterwards.

“More than okay. I’m happy you picked me at the bar. Usually they say “never meet your heroes” but with you that’s different.”

“Thanks,doll. That means a lot to me.” he leaned in and kissed your neck.

At the mention of that particular nickname your posture stiffened. He noticed.

“What’s wrong? Did I say something?”

“Ehm, well … you know I haven’t only had a crush on you but also on Bucky… maybe.” you whispered.

At first he seemed confused as to where this confession suddenly came from but then it clicked.

“It’s the nickname. I called you doll.” he laughed. “I didn’t even register that I got that from him. But if it turns you on I will keep using it.” that grin could win you over any day.

“I could get used to it actually. I never would have imagined someone calling me that. But you make it sound so hot. Thanks for making me feel good.”

“Anytime, doll.” he kissed you again.

“By the way, didn’t we wanna watch a movie?” you suddenly asked.

“Yes, of course. Do they have Netflix or something on here?” did he wanna know.

“Disney+. And with it all the Marvel Movies.” you winked at him.

“Anything you want, doll.” he kept using that nickname over and over but you loved it.

“Which one have you not seen yet?”

“I think I’ve actually seen them all. Which one is your favorite?”

“I love the ones you’re in the most.” you confessed.

“Okay, close your eyes and I’ll pick your favorite one.” he suggested.

“Alright. Let’s give it a try.” you agreed.

When you were allowed to open your eyes again you saw the opening credits of a Marvel movie flashing. You recognized the first scene: The Washington Monument and a very exhausted looking Sam Wilson and you heard “on your left” which made you smile. He knew then that he had picked the right movie.

“Good choice.” you praised him.

Then you cuddled up to him and he put his arm around you.

Although you were pretty tired after about half the movie you could not skip over one second of that glorious movie.

“You know- the Winter Soldier is kinda hot. So determined and dominant.” You slurred when you saw him walk down that car after he jumped from the bridge.

“You think so? You like to be dominated? Controlled? Called names? Maybe tied up and used?” he growled into your ear.

“Fuck.” you whimpered and clenched your thighs.

“You like the thought of that don’t you?” he bit into your earlobe.

You nodded furiously.

“Use your words babygirl.”

“Yes, sir.” you said.

“So, an authority kink is there too. And here I thought you were so innocent.” he pushed.

“How can you be innocent when you read fanfiction almost every day?” you quipped.

“Fanfiction, huh? Can you show me examples so I can paint myself a picture?” he asked.

You took your phone out and opened Tumblr. Then you searched for your favorite Bucky fanfic with all the kinks you enjoyed and handed the phone to him.

He read with interest and you studied his facial expressions, smirking when you saw reactions to certain parts you had expected to come.

“So that’s the kind of naughty literature you enjoy alone in your bed, touching yourself maybe.” he growled.

“Yes, sir. The imagination of what you could do to me makes me so wet.” you bit your lip seductively.

Suddenly you were in a flow. All the insecurities about your body and weight were gone. Only him and your sexual fantasies existed in the moment.

“Fuck baby.” he moaned and grabbed your hand to push it onto his growing bulge. “Feel what you do to me, doll?”

“So hot.” you moaned back and felt the urge to take charge. So you got onto your knees and sat in his lap grinding down on him.

Before anything could go further he stopped you and whispered “if at any point you want to stop or feel uncomfortable or I’m doing something you are not ready for or don’t like, tell me and we will stop immediately. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sebastian. I understand. Thanks.”

And so it continued. Grinding and kissing. Until he suddenly stood up abruptly holding you close. “I’m not taking your virginity on this couch. Where is your bedroom?”

He was so considerate “upstairs and then the last door on the right.”

He carried you to the room, carefully laying you down on the bed so as to not disturb your injured foot.

When he unbuttoned the button down he was wearing and took it off you were already drooling.

“Let me undress you, darling. Turn around so I can unzip your dress. Which is beautiful by the way.” he suggested and winked.

You did as he told you and soon felt your dress falling off your shoulders. He helped you pull it over your head and left you in your bra, chub rub shorts and panties.

A little embarrassed at the shorts you looked to the side. But you couldn’t go out in a dress without wearing any type of pants underneath.

“You are so sexy, baby.” he did everything to make you feel comfortable and you started to believe him.

“May I?” he motioned for your bra and you nodded your consent.

Next he took off his jeans and the realization of what was to come started to seep into your mind.

“You still okay with this?” he made sure.

“Yes. I want this Sebastian. I really do. I trust you” you assured him.

So he proceeded with the rest of your clothes and lastly his boxer shorts.

The whole time he kept kissing you hungrily. When he crawled on top of you and you had that skin on skin contact you had never felt so safe with anyone before.

“I gotta prep you before we go all the way, alright? Don’t wanna hurt you, doll.” he whispered between kisses.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good, promise.”

“Please.” you begged.

That’s when he scooted down your body, kissing every inch of skin he could reach. The next thing you felt was him placing a kiss on your mound, and then his tongue poking out starting to flick your clit. He pushed your legs further apart to gain better access.

“Fuck, feels so good.” you moaned just when he inserted one finger into your tight pussy. “Oh, my gosh. Don’t stop.” you begged him.

“I won’t” he mumbled and kept attacking your clit.

“‘m so close.”

“Come for me baby. Come now.” That command was the last straw which brought you to orgasm.

Breathlessly you smiled down at him and he smiled right back at you.

“You up for more?” he needed the confirmation that you were alright.

“Yes, sir. Now I don’t know why I have never done this before. I don’t ever want you to stop again.” At that statement he laughed heartily.

“Then let’s start, shall we?” he kept kissing over your belly, up to your breasts, licked your nipples and sucked hickies onto your neck.

“Ready?”

“Can you just fuck me already?” you asked annoyed.

“Someones being needy.” he joked and finally penetrated your pussy.

“Oh, fuck. So big. Hmmm. deep. Shit.” you were already reduced to a mumbling mess.

“Such a tight fit. You feel amazing.” he buried his head into your neck.

And then he started to move. Slowly at first but picked up speed rapidly. He hit spots inside you that your favorite vibrator was never able to get.

End then something you never wanted anyone to hear slipped your mouth “Fuck, daddy. Harderr!” and suddenly he stopped completely and you mewled disappointed until you realized what you had said. You opened your eyes to see his reaction.

You expected him to be disgusted but all you could see was a hunger. He looked like a predator who finally caught his prey.

“Say that again!” he growled. That statement of his made a surge of pride and confidence rush through you.

You bit your lip mischievously and said “Please, daddy. Fuck me harder.” and he immediately snapped.

He pistoned his hips forward, hitting your cervix over and over until you were so desperately close.

“You’re about to come, aren’t you? I can feel your pussy squeezing me, doll. Alright I’m gonna count down and I want you to come with me. Understood”

“Yes, daddy please… need to come… so bad.”

“Five..” deep thrust. “Four…” nip to the collarbone. “Three…” you clawed at his back. “Two…” you tried your hardest not to come and closed your eyes. “Look at me babygirl..” so you opened your eyes. “One… Come” and the dam broke. You had never come so hard in your life. No toy could ever make you feel the way this man did. Your quivering cunt made him come so hard. When he rolled off you he was breathing just as heavy as you were. The only noise you heard was your rapid heartbeat and blood rushing in your ears.

“That was amazing. We definitely need to do that again” you said.

“Oh yes. Anytime.”

The next week flew by so quickly and you two spent most of it in bed. You decided that your lives needed to be lived together so the next chance you got you would be moving in with him. Sometimes dreams do come true!

[aliypop]

Blood Lust

Word count :  2,105

Warning: Language

A/N : Some more Tiffany and the boys in the past! I did it I wanna dedicate this 2 days of writing this fic to  @whatisgoingonpaul the source for the lost boys prequel as well as @a-supernatural-writer and @pitiful-anonymous-vampire

Near the dark, damp, humid Santa Carla bluffs sat several outlaws around a campfire. Tiffany and Stewart waited behind a few trees, her fangs sharp and ready to rip into the first ounce of flesh that she could get into. "Did ya hear somethin..." the two men who looked like bandits asked each other. The sounds of waves crashed against the rocks from below as the trees rustled. Darkness spreads across the bluff as Stewart blew out the fire. "Wh...Who's there..." one of the men says, feeling a deathly still presence from behind him. The cold hands of death touch the man's neck-snapping it in half as the mark of a lover's kiss is left on the corpse. 

"Well, boys, don't just sit there..." Tiffany turned to face the freshly turned vampires and their sire Max. Standing like statues, the boys only looked at Tiffany and Stewart. Who were both covered in blood,

 "Don't tell me you didn't ..." Tiffany glared at Max, who had the grin of a conman on his face. 

" Didn't what Ms." 

"How dare you turn these boys into vampires and yet have them figure it out themselves!" Tiffany shouted, her hands close to ripping her hair out. "First of all, little girl..." his hand underneath her chin. Tiffany nearly snapped at his finger, "I will rip you apart from where you stand..." she growled at him, hearing his already sickening laughter. 

"Is everything okay..." David asked, his reddish-blonde hair poking up from behind Max. 

"Not to worry... someones just being disrespectful, isn't she..." 

"If Camilla hears about this... she'll make you wish you never were born... " Tiffany laughed as she then saw a long-haired blond pounced on top of a body, "Paul use your hands first and then teeth!" she smirked, her dark blue gown trailing behind her. Flesh ripping apart was the only sound that Max and Tiffany heard as the two sat by a fire admiring the skill that "his" boys were learning. "Jasper!" Max shouted at the younger boy, his hair almost as long as his older brothers. 

"Yes..." 

"Try harder, will ya..." Max said, a bit disappointed in the boy. Jasper only sighed as he continued trying to find the right vein to feed on; Max only watched as Jasper struggled, almost as if he got a kick out of seeing the young boy starve to death. Stewart shook his head, taking his nail to the wrist of the soon-to-be corpse splitting it open. 

"Thanks..."

"Don't mention it, kid." he ruffled up his hair, getting a glare from Dwayne. The vampires had begun to travel further into the woods, trying to find the perfect place to make camp. Horses trotted in the woods, 

Stewart, whose hands were around Marko's waist, rested his tired body against his back and turned to look at Paul, who only rolled his eyes at him and kept riding past. "I'm just saying, Tiffany, you'd make a great..." 

"A great what..." she turned to face Max, her horse catching up to his.

 "I would say mother, but you can't even side-saddle..." Max mumbled, taking note of the way she rode. "And to think you've trained to be a lady... " Tiffany only laughed as she shook her head, " I am no lady..." taking the reins of her horse galloping in the wind past Max, "I suggest we trot faster if you want to live." she sang from afar. Marko, Stewart, and Paul had taken camp together. The three wrapped tightly in a blanket. Tiffany stood in her tent, her locket an ice blue amulet in hand, memories of a life she wanted to leave behind. Tiffany could feel a cold touch reach up to her back, her skin crawling as the hand reached up to her shoulder. 

"Poor little girl ... still waiting for happily ever afters, huh..." 

"Leave me alone..." 

"Or what you'll cry..." he laughed, "Lestat was right about you... You're easy too, eager," Tiffany wrapped her hands around his neck, urging her to squeeze him harder. Her vamping out only grew pale while Max nicked her with his nails.

"Hey, anyone seen my cigarettes ..." Dwayne poked his head in; The smell of her blood luring both him and David, Max, had only excused himself as both David and Dwayne invited themselves in, Tiffany began to back away from the two. Her eyes were now yellow and red from tears that wouldn't come.

 "Hey, hey, hey, it's okay..." David took her hand, 

"Look at me..." Dwayne said, his eyes trailing back to her wrist. Tiffany faced the two vampires as she took a deep breath.

 "I'm so sorry I wish you didn't have to..." 

"You're bleeding, dear..." David pointed out as Dwayne's eyes followed suit. Adjusting her wrist out, she watched as he hesitantly bit down on the already semi-healing skin. 

"Wanna tell us what the hell that was about..." David pried. 

"Just vampire stuff..." She shrugged, watching as Dwayne glared at her. 

"I promise you two it's nothing... I need to rest and..." 

"Tell us what's going on, Monroe." Dwayne pulled away from the wound, his hand firmly holding onto her hand,

 "I'm not that important ..." she mumbled as the two boys looked at her, 

"Max only wants me around you guys like a mother figure..." she laughed, removing her skirt, 

" So what do you want to be..." David turned away, letting her undress. "Well, I want to be myself... " she bit her lips feeling hands ghost over her corset. 

"And who would that be," Dwayne asked, glancing at the whalebone marks on her skin, "You tied this yourself..." 

"Mhmm, what's wrong with it..."

"It's shit." he laughed, 

"I beg your pardon!" she gasped, "It's perfect. "

"Yeah, if you don't wanna breathe." David turned his head, "You know Anastasia taught me how to lace up a corset."

"Here we go..." 

"No, no, let him speak..." Tiffany suggested as she sat down in the grass, 

"But if you can tie nautical knots, you can lace a fucking corset." David looked at the woman as she laughed. There was a sadness behind his eyes every time he mentioned the name Anastasia, but she must have meant so much to him. The colors of orange, pink, and blue began to crack amongst the dark sky as both David and Dwayne were asleep in her tent. Sitting out in the Dawn were Tiffany and Stewart watching daybreak hatch. 

" I think it time I change a new leaf..." she huffed, the warm rays on her skin, 

"What do you mean ..." 

"It's a new era, and I can't keep being what everyone wants me to be... I can only be who I'm supposed to be." she looked back as she saw Jasper, who was getting a peek of what would be his last sunrise over California.  

Sitting in the lobby of the Santa Carla resort was Tiffany, her thoughts heavy and her mind scrambling around. Looking down at her engagement ring, she admired every detail that Dracula had put into it. But she knew that none of it was hers: instead, it was just another way for her to become a trophy in his collection of wives. Max had then sat next to her, his hand on top of hers. 

" Go away..." She grumbled. 

"Or what..." Max smirked, tilting her head up with his chin, 

"I'll take everything you've ever loved away from you..." she growled, "Including the boys..." 

"You wouldn't..." His control over the other vampire fading, "You wouldn't know the first thing about raising boys..." Tiffany laughed as she broke from his grip, walking away from the power-hungry sire,

 "You know something, Maxi..." 

"What..." 

"You've no power over me... nor does Dracula..."

"You sure about that..." 

"Highly sure ... now if you excuse me, I've made arrangements with Paul and Jasper to go pickpocke-" she stopped talking as the ground under her began to shake, the infamous earthquake of 1906, the residence of the hotel had all rushed to the door,

 the chandelier had started crumbling down from the lobby ceiling. As a few people got caught from underneath it, Tiffany looked back to see Jasper, who was reaching out for his brother's hand, Dwayne looking at Tiffany, while Marko Paul and Stewart tried to help.

"You stay awake, do you hear me ?! don't you dare close your eyes."

 "Leave them, Tiffany..." Max said, watching as Tiffany tried to run from his hypnotic grasp,

 "I gotta do something..." she tried to pull away as he only beckoned for her to follow as well as the rest of the boys.

"Who has the power over who now..." he mumbled, the once ever so astounding resort torched with flames and burnt memories; faded into the night sky, leaving the sound of silence and howls of wolves in the background. "I'm sorry about your brother I-" Dwayne kept looking ahead as the two kept walking, 

"Don't worry about it, snookums, Dwayne, gets like that when he's upset..." Paul mentioned as Tiffany giggled, "Snookums eh... What god awful human did you learn that from."

"Some guy named Walter Emerson..." he looked at the pocket watch that he stole. He then looked back at Marko and Stewart, the two chatting away, while Tiffany looked at David, who had lost the love of his mortal life. She wanted to ask if he was okay, but his eyes looking towards the North Star said differently. 

Tiffany sighed as she kept walking, her boots getting stuck in the mud while her hair begun to stick from sweat to her face. " Can't we just fucking rest for the night... " The young woman groaned, 

"I mean David's fucking out of it, Stewart and Marko ate two rats, and Dwayne he's practically falling asleep, and Paul..." she looked back, "Holy Hell, where's Paul!" Tiffany turned to see the blond ripping the neck off a wolf open. Max grumbled both by his and her actions. He was irritated, but the nagging and the tiredness reminded him why he hated dealing with such newly turned vampires. 

"My Feet hurt..." Marko grumbled, 

"It's too hot..." David groaned. 

"FINE WE'LL STOP." Max turned towards the boys, his teeth out and ready to rip into anyone else who so had a complaint. They found a campsite with fire, a few tents, and what seemed to be a few drunk soldiers. 

"Tiffany, get rid of them." Max pointed in the direction of the men, "See boys: When you're more experienced, you'll also be able to cause as much bloodshed just like that..." he turned back to see limbs discarded amongst the ground, the perfect meal for a vampire feeding their young. "The place is all yours, boys..." 

As the boys went to rest, Tiffany did as well. Dressed in her nightgown, laying on the cot, she could feel a hand stroking her hair as it kept singing her name.  

Tiffany 

Tiffany

Tiffany 

She tossed and turned on the couch from up under her, teased out hair drenched in a cold sweat. "It's happening again..." Marko sighed, dabbing away beads of sweat from her forehead. Paul rushed over, holding her hand feeling, the odd heat radiating off her skin. 

 "Tiffany, sweetheart, I want you to drink this..." David said, trying to get her to look at him. It was the third time this month that Tiffany hadn't been so lucky when it came to feeding. She had caught a case of Blotoisis better, known as Vampiritis, a flu-like sickness that happens when a vampire consumes blood from a sick human. 

"I ... I don't wanna..." she shivered, her eyes closed from the lighting of the fire barrels, "You gotta toots..." Marko kissed her forehead. Dwayne rolled his eyes, placing another cold towel on her forehead, noticing Angelica, who had been holding hands with Sam, and someone else who he presumed to be a friend of hers that she met. 

" Babycakes..." Tiffany reached out to Dwayne, "Je ne me sens pas bien je veux des câlins." she pouted as Dwayne held her hand, "No cuddles until you feel better."

"I want you all to meet my friend..." Angelica said, walking further into the cave holding a can of chicken noodle soup. 

"Not now, kiddo..." David shooed her away. 

"But..."

"Tiff's sick..." Dwayne shrugged

"Will ya stop shooing away my girlfriend for one second," Jasper smirked, standing to the side, his dark hair almost as long as his brothers, 

"Jasper..." the boys said, turning to face him.

"Sheesh, love what you did to the place..."  

"I must be hallucinating ..."

[sestra-inestro]

The Carry On - (2/5)

Pairings: mob!bucky x reader

Warnings: smut straight-up (18+), unprotected sex (wrap n strap it people), swearing, angst, violence, blood, guns, suicide, the killing of an animal so read at your own risk.

A/N: just kinda crammed the smut in there for this. I think we needed it. This will be the most violent part tho.

Part 1

2 Years Later

Bucky stirring beside you woke you from your light sleep. Groaning, you rolled over and faced him.

“Sorry baby.” Bucky’s raspy voice chuckled as his fingers traced your hairline. He leaned in to kiss your lips but you covered your mouth.

“Nope.” He pouted at you. “Not until I brush my teeth.”

“Oh, baby.” Bucky rolled his body on top of yours and pulled your hands away from your face. “You know I don’t care about that.”

He placed a warm kiss on your neck. His tongue swiped your skin.

“You should care.” You say, tilting your head back to expose more of your neck.

“Well I don’t.” His kisses trailed down across your collarbone. His actions were causing heat to bloom at your core. His hips started to gently roll against yours, gaining a moan from you.

“You are so beautiful.” He continued to worship your skin and rub up against you. “No matter what your breath smells like.” He smirked against your skin.

You giggled and pushed against his shoulder.

His arms curled under you and pulled you closer, burying his head in your neck and pushing himself into you. He pushed his thighs up under your legs and hooked your knees around the thick muscle of his legs.

You push yourself further up on the bed with his legs and grasp onto his forearms, enjoy feeling him so close to you and the pleasure he brings you just by moving over your clothes.

You rolled your hips back into his, making him groan in your neck. You closed your eyes, listening to the sounds of him. Knowing only you can make him make those noises.

As Bucky’s firm hand gently started to make its way down your waist, squeezing your skin as it made its way to the waistband of your pyjamas shorts. His fingers slipped into your shorts and you braces yourself for his loving hands to touch you where you were craving him the most...when Brunner’s whines sounded through the door and a soft knock tapped on the wood.

“Mr Barnes?” Rita’s timid voice came to your ears. “Are you awake?”

Bucky groaned and dropped his head to your shoulder, making you giggle.

“Yes, Rita?” Bucky’s voice came out muffled.

“Um, there has been a phone call for you this morning. More information about an enemy?” Rita said as she struggled to hold back Brunner from making so much noise.

“I’ll be up in a minute.” He said, his voice still muffled.

“I’m sorry?” Rita asked, straining to hear her boss.

“I’ll be up in a minute.” He said a little louder.

“Pardon?”

“For Gods sake.” Bucky curse and pulling himself away from you. But before he could yell and scream at the poor maid you flipped him over and straddled him. Bucky was startled by the sudden movement and looked up to you in shock, completely silent.

The bed making a loud thump.

“He’ll be right out, Rita.” You called out to her.

“Okay, Mrs Barnes.” Rita said before pulling Brunner away from the door so he doesn’t get into trouble.

You peered down at Bucky with your hands on his chest. “You need to be nicer to her.”

Bucky huffed in response and caressed the skin on your thighs.

“I was trying to make love to my wife.” Bucky pouted.

You smirked down at him. “You can make love to your wife.” You leant down and placed a kiss on his chest. “When you’ve caught your enemy.”

You said playfully before pushing off of him and leaping out of bed before he could reach you.

Bucky whined in protest as he watched you slip on your silk robe.

“I’ll see you downstairs, lover.” You winked at him. Bucky watches with pride as you leave, hips sashaying away and leaving him straining against him boxer briefs.

~

It was sometime before Bucky joined you once again. He descended down the stairs freshly showered and in his good work suit. His eyes were on you as you talked to Brunner, who was sitting at you feet, happily wagging his tail.

Bucky didn’t quite appreciate having the Staffy in the house. He made messes and scratched up the floor with his claws. But you adored the dog beyond every mess he made, and always picked up after him. You compromised with Bucky to let him stay in the house for some parts of the day while he finished his training. He is protective, just can’t tell the difference between carpet or grass sometimes.

Brunner lowers his head and makes his way to the back door at the sight of Bucky, who is walking straight to you.

You smiled, knowingly as Bucky approached you. Swiftly, Bucky grasped your hip and pulled you to him.

“I need you.” He whispered in you ear, pushing himself into you so you feel how hard he still is. He crushed his lips against yours.

You moan at the feeling of him against you. You wrapped your arms around his neck and he lifted your thighs around him and backed you into the couch. You locked your ankles around him and pulled him closer to you, feeling his hard member against your heated core. Feeling him through your clothes and his pants made your core swell with wetness.

You rushed to pulled the robe off your shoulders and pushed Bucky’s blazer off his.

Bucky’s hand cupped your cheek, his tongue dancing around your lips before diving into your mouth. His other hand trailed across you thigh and pressed flat against your heat, pressing on your nub of nerves.

Your body grew more hungry from him as he rubbed you through your pyjamas. You pull your lips away from his and look him in the eyes as you grind your hips against his hand.

Bucky stares into your eyes as he rubbed harsh circles on your center. Your hips swirls at the movement of his hand as your shorts began to dampen.

“Bucky...” You whimpered out. “Please.”

“Please what, Princess?” Bucky’s voice was raspy.

“Fuck me.” You begged.

Your plea was followed by a tear of your cotton shorts. You gasped at the action and yelped when he pushed you back. You watched Bucky quickly undo his pants and dive back down to you. Your hands went straight to his hair, fingers twisting around his his locks as his lips attacked yours again.

You used your feet to push down his pants and underwear and reached down to touch him.

He throbbed in your hand and groaned in your mouth. His cock grew rock hard in your hand and his hands gripped your thighs.

“Please, fuck me.” You whimpered against his mouth.

“Patience, baby.” He said as he grinder himself against your wet cunt. “I’ll make you feel so good.”

He lifted his hips and the tip of his cock nudged your clit, causing your body to jerk and gasp.

“I love you.” He kissed your jaw. “You’re beautiful.” He kissed your neck.

You closed your eyes, feeling him slide against your wet folds and moaning in his ear.

“You’re mine.” He growled into your neck before slipping into your hot entrance, causing you to gasp deeply.

You could feel every ridge and vein in his cock, deep within you. Your core pulsed around him, begging him to move.

“We have to be quick.” He sighed in pleasure.

“Make me come.” You whispered.

Bucky snapped his hips forwards, jerking your body upwards. You wrapped your arm around his shoulders and held onto him as he set his pace, driving himself in and out of you, grunting in your neck.

“Fuck yes, baby.” You moaned as you shook underneath him.

“So fucking tight.” He grunted.

The sound of slapping skin filled the entire living room and both of your soft moans and grunts.

Both of your bodies moved together in sync, fast as you tried to reach your orgasm fast.

You let out a loud moan and threw you head back as he hit a sweet spot inside you.

“Oh fuck, Bucky.” You panted out. “I’m so close.”

“Come for me baby.” He groan as he felt your walls clench around his cock like a warm vice. He slipped his hand down and furiously rubbed at your clit. “Come on my cock.”

Your hips stilled and your mouth fell open in a silent scream as pleasure exploded through your core and you stomach tightened.

You thighs shook in his hand and your heels dug into his lower back, pushing him further to you, gushing over his cock.

Bucky thrusted a few more times before giving in to the pleasure, his hips stuttered against yours, emptying himself inside you.

You let out a shuddering breath as your legs slacked around his waist, finally coming down from your orgasm.

His forehead rested against yours as his body calmed down. You whined as he slowly pulled out of you, body jerking slightly as his hand pressed slightly onto your still sensitive clit.

You laid on the couch, spent and your body still humming in your post-orgasm state.

Bucky fell back and lazily put himself back together, sweat spots forming on his forehead slightly as he tucked his glistening wet cock back into his pants.

“You okay?” He asked, rubbing your ankle.

You hummed. “Better than okay.” You smiled sweetly at him.

He chuckled and massaged your skin.

A horn sounded from outside, signalling that his men were ready to head to their destination. Groaning, Bucky lifted himself off the couch and leaned back over you to give you a passionate kiss. You sighed at the kiss and pushed yourself off the couch.

Bucky ran a hand over your hair, smoothing it down and pulled away from the kiss.

“I love you.” He whispered.

“I love you.” You whispered back.

A knock on the door alerted Bucky, as well as Steve’s voice. “C’mon, Buck. We gotta go.”

Bucky sighed and pulled you with him as he walked to the door. You wrapped your robe around you again to cover your exposed bottom half.

Bucky opened the door to reveal Steve, whose face fell at the sight of you. You rolled your eyes at Bucky’s distrusting friend. After being with Bucky and getting married two years ago, he still doesn’t trust you.

“I’ll be back later tonight. If I’m late, don’t wait up.” Bucky said before pressing a kiss to your temple.

“See you later, my love.” You said smiling at him.

You watched him pull away and follow Steve to the car. The black sleek vehicle rumbled, Sam hanging out of the back window and waving at you. You chuckled and waved back. Before Bucky got into the car he turned and blew you a kiss, which you caught and held to you heart. You then watched as he drove off to handle whatever enemy him and his alliance was facing today.

You turned and walked back into the mansion, closing the door behind you. Brunner trotted up to you and sat at your feet. The thick headed Staffy smiled up at you and panted.

“Let me go get some clothes on and then we can go for walkies.” You said to him in you doggie voice, which made Brunner jump in excitement.

“Barnes.” Tony waltzed into Bucky’s office, announcing himself. Bucky rubbed a hand over his face before turning to look at Tony.

“Yes, Stark?” Bucky gave a tired response.

“You’re late, and this is important.” Tony sat on one of the couches in Bucky’s office.

Bucky smirked to himself. “I had something I needed to do first.” The memory of you trembling underneath him sent a reaction straight to his cock. “Now what’s so important that I had to leave my warm wife and so early?” Bucky sat down in his chair.

“Well actually...” Tony leaned forward and rested his elbows on his thighs. “The subject of your wife is part of this important discussion we need to have.”

Bucky groaned internally. “If Steve has put you on her case as well, I’m going to hit you.” He pointed at Tony. “She’s not using me for the money. And what we do is our business.”

“No, gosh I don’t care about that.” Tony raised his hands and shook his head. “But you might care after this.”

“What are you talking about?” Bucky frowned at his alliance team member.

“We’ve discovered that the mission information has been transmitted from inside your house.” Tony informed him.

Bucky’s spine straightened and the hairs stood at the back of his neck. Tony’s words made Bucky’s skin crawl, but he stayed silent.

“We have reasons to believe that your wife is-“

“Do not fucking finish that sentence!” Bucky cut Tony off. His voice was loud but trembled.

“Barnes-“ Tony tried again.

“No,” Bucky stood from his chair. “My wife might’ve been an outsider at the beginning but she would never betray me like that.”

“James, you need to calm down.” Tony also stood from his chair, warning Bucky.

“She’s not the mole.” Bucky’s eyes pleaded Tony not to continue with his accusation.

“James-“

“Buck.” Steve was now the one to interrupt Tony as he burst through the door with a laptop in his arms. “You need to see this.”

Tony groaned at the interruption.

“No, it’s a confirmation.” Steve assured Tony.

“What?” Bucky asks in shock.

“Listen, Buck. I know you don’t want to believe that she’s the mole. But this evidence is hard to argue with.” Steve told him.

Bucky clenched his fists by his sides. “No, I don’t want to hear it. She can’t be the mole.

“You don’t think her motives were to find out that we have Natasha in there as our own mole? To expose her to them?” Steve tries to convince him. “One of our own could very much be in danger because of your wife.”

“And it would explain how they get the route details of our cartel units.” Tony added.

Bucky stood standing silently. There was no way his beautiful wife could’ve been the mole. She was too busy loving the dog when he wasn’t there. The one woman who had captivated him so much that he fell in love with her the first time she smiled at him could’ve been the mole. That just would’ve been a cruel joke.

“Just...look at the evidence, Buck.” Steve offered him the laptop.

Hesitantly, Bucky grasped the laptop while still glaring at Steve, hoping it would be someone who just looked like you. As he lifted the screen, his eyes betrayed his stoic expression as he saw a picture, clear as day, of you exchanging words with someone who you know is against him and his team of alliances. Rumlow. And seated at your feet, Brunner.

Tear threaten to tip over his lids as he takes a deep breath to try and hold the rage and hurt that’s growing in his chest.

Hurt.

Pain.

Betrayal.

That fucking dog.

You bitch.

Bucky snapped the laptop shut before hurling it at the wall. As if he couldn’t afford another one.

Tony and Steve stayed silent as they watched Bucky slowly move and surly panting at the growing sense of betrayal that swelled his stomach.

Sam then arrived at the door of the office, seeing what the commotion was. They all eyes Bucky as he took a deep breath.

“June’s the mole.” Bucky’s voice croaked out. “She’s the fucking mole.”

Steve looked down at his feet, no longer able to look at his best friends painful expression.

Bucky suddenly turned back towards his desk and swiped his gun off the table.

“Let’s go.” He said before storming passed them and out of his office.

“Damn.” Sam shook his head. “I really liked her.” He mumbled as him and Steve followed Bucky out of the building and back to his house.

You stood at the sink washing the small plate you had just used for your food. Sure you had house staff for that sort of thing, but it was just one plate. After going for a walk and a play with Brunner you had come back to make yourself lunch. You hummed to yourself happily, drying off the dish before placing it in the cupboard. That’s when you heard heavy footsteps headed in your direction. Turning, you saw Bucky storming in with Steve and Sam hot on his tail.

“Oh hey, Buck. I didn’t expect you to-“ You cut yourself off as you watched Steve and Sam stop at the doorway, drawing their guns at you.

“Woah, hey.” You said in confusion as Bucky marched over to where you stood. “What’s happeni-“ You we’re cut off once again, but this time by the back of Bucky’s hand burning across your cheek.

“You think I wouldn’t find out?” Bucky snarled in your ear as you clutched the right side of your face. “You think because you can get naked and marry me I would just over looking this?”

Still in shock from the slap, you stared at him.

“Answer me!” He shouted causing you to jump back.

“B-Buck. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You stuttered, afraid you’d get hit again.

“Enough playing dumb.” He gripped your wrist, his fingers digging into your flesh, causing you to whimper.

The noise coming from the kitchen had summoned Brunner. He now stood at the second doorway to the kitchen from the living room, tail still and a growl rumbling from his throat.

“Bucky, please. Just talk to me.” You begged, trying to brace your arm from any movement he might make.

“I know you’re the mole, June. Or even if that’s your real name.” The look in his eyes was pure rage built up behind the smallest ring of tears. “You tricked me you, little bitch. Say it!” He threw you back against the counter, it hitting your lower back. This caused Brunner to step forward in a warning and Bucky whipped around to him.

“Stay there dog!” He bellowed at him. The dog back up but the snarl still wrinkled his snout as he watched Bucky throw his mother around.

“You’ve been going behind my back and selling out everything. Meeting with Rumlow. You’ve stayed in my house and tainted every inch of trust I had with you. Staying was the dumbest thing you could’ve done, bitch.” Bucky stepped back towards you and lifted his hand. You flinched and turned your head, in hopes to protect your face but the blow came your stomach. His fist took the wind out of you and you doubled over onto your knees, groaning and coughing. Tears now fell down your face as your husband abused you. You sobbed as his feet stopped right in front of your face. Brunner barked at Bucky.

“Bucky...” Your voice came out weak. “Please...stop.”

Brunner continued to bark, taking Bucky’s attention away from you. You looked up to see Steve and Sam wincing at the way Bucky was handling you mercilessly. Your eyes moved back to Bucky as you watched him move closer to the barking dog, bringing yourself up from the ground again.

“Don’t hurt him.” You said on instinct as Bucky showed aggression towards the dog.

Bucky turned back to you and raised his brows as you pulled yourself back up, supporting yourself on the sink. “Oh. So you’ll protect the mutt but you’ll betray me?”

“Bucky, I never-“ He didn’t let you finish as he pulled out his own gun and pointed it right at Brunner.

Your wet eyes widened and you rushed forward with your arms out towards him. You went to grab at his gun but Bucky was quickly and thumped you right in the cheek with the handle of the gun, causing your head to whip back and you land on your ass on the floor again.

Brunner bared his teeth at Bucky and moved again.

“Stay!” Bucky shouted once again, the dog halting on stiff legs.

You groaned as your body now throbbed in pain. You just knew your face was bleeding from that hit. Your brain hurt from raking over the reasons he would be so angry to hurt you like this. And your hope was thinning as he looked down at you with a glare that could kill you.

“Tell me where you sent the information.” Bucky said in a terrifyingly calm tone now having his gun drawn on you. “Tell me who you work for.”

“I’m not working for anyone, Bucky. Please.” You sobbed out a beg.

Bucky rolled his eyes and sighed in frustration. He moved his gun to point at Brunner again. The dog started barking at him again.

“No...” You whimpered, tears falling down your cheeks as you sat up and stinging the cut on your face.

“Tell me, June! Or I put a bullet right between Brunner’s pretty eyes!” Bucky yelled.

“No please.” You cried.

“Buck...” Sam said gently.

“Shut it, Sam!” Bucky silenced him. “Tell me, now!”

“I swear to you I’m not working with anyone!” You cried to him.

“I saw the evidence, June! I know! Tell me where!” Bucky was now red in the face.

Brunner continued to bark and you begged for Bucky to not hurt him.

“I’m not! Bucky! I love yo-“ The gun went off and you gasped, closing your eyes.

You heard Brunner yelp before a thud hit the ground and silence screamed through your ears.

You felt the bile start to rise in your throat and now Steve and Sam has lowered their guns. Bucky’s heavy breathing was the only thing that could now be heard.

When you woke up today, never would you have thought your day would go like this, when you took Brunner for a walk or kissed your husband goodbye. Nothing like this harsh event crossed your mind.

Bucky slowly stepped forward, looking down at your kneeling form on the floor with your face covered with your hands. The sight broke him, but the idea of your betrayal broke him even more.

“I’m going to ask you once more time, June.” Bucky said lowly. “Where did that information go?”

You didn’t answer. You knew you were innocent, but you also knew Bucky. He would either kill you or find more ways to hurt you even more. So you stayed silent.

Bucky’s frustration was building up again in response to your silence. He snarled and grabbed your arm again, force you to look up at his as he raise you slightly. You yelped at the bruising that had formed from earlier and his tight grip now. Tears watered your face as you looked up at the man you shared a bed with last night and many nights since before your wedding night. This wasn’t the same man.

“Mr Barnes.” A voice said from the doorway to the living room. Everyone turned their eyes to see Rita, your friend and Bucky’s longtime general housekeeper, standing there with a small gun by her side.

“It was me. Don’t hurt Mrs Barnes anymore.” She said with sad eyes.

Bucky’s grip on you immediately softened as he turned his body in shock.

“I’m sorry.” She muttered before holding the gun behind her ear. You gasped again and looked away before you could hear the gun go off.

Now two bodies lay in the doorway to the living room and Bucky’s body immediately filled with shock and regret. He had just bashed his wife around and killed the dog she had been loving and training while his most trusted housekeeper revealed she betrayed him and killed herself in front of them.

Bucky took his time to let everything sink in while he listened to your sobs coming from your body on the floor at his feet.

He looked down at you, heat and hurt filling his chest as he saw your blood on your hands.

Oh, baby. I’m so sorry.

The tears of betrayal he was holding back had turned into tears of regret and slipped down his cheeks. Slowly and gently, he reached down to touch you softly. His fingers brushing against the back of your arm made you flinch. Your body flipping backward and away from his touch, your eyes full of fear and hatred staring back at him.

His face had morphing into one of sadness and hopeless regret. He still cradled his gun in his other hand and held it away from you. He held out his hand and you shook your head.

Sweat made the baby hairs stick to your forehead and your wet cheeks were now streaked. The deep gash from the gun swollen and raging red and blood dripping down. Every detail of your face was another slice on Bucky’s heart. He promised to never hurt you in any way. This afternoon, he broke you in more than one way.

You pushed yourself to your wobbly feet and stumbled. Bucky reacted by reaching forward to help you balance yourself. You whacked his hand away and your eyes pierced through him.

“Stay the fuck away from me.” The words dripping venom made his heart drop to his stomach. He watched as you made your way passed Steve and Sam and out of the kitchen.

“June.” He quiet voice trembled in a plea and he trailed after you.

You kept walking through the house towards the front door as you ignored Bucky saying your name behind you. Not bothering to grab your coat, you opened the front door and you were met with 5 cars of men all aiming their guns towards you.

“Stay where you are!” One of them demanded. You froze. More guns aimed at your head in the last 10 minutes than some people in a life time.

“No! Stop! Don’t shoot her!” Bucky’s voice came rushing to the door and he stood behind you, ordering his men over your shoulder. “Don’t hurt her!”

You scoff at his orders and continue down the front steps, Bucky’s men putting down their guns.

Bucky watched with a heavy heart you as you made your way to your car and slammed the door shut. Without looking back, you turned in the ignition and drove out of the driveway, his men moving away from your car as you drove straight through them.

“Someone please follow her and make sure she is safe.” Bucky’s voice trembled as he wiped away the tears on his face. “Make sure no one else hurts her but keep your distance.” One of the men nodded and got into one of he cars, driving off to follow you.

“Buck.” Steve said from behind him. Bucky turned his head to see Steve holding a piece of paper in his hand with one word written in Rita’s handwriting. ‘Hydra’.

Bucky took a shaky sigh as he looked at the spot your car was once in. One he bought you as only one of the many random gifts he had given you.

He had really messed this up. He considered himself lucky if he ever even saw you again. Images of your scared face while he hurt you played over in his mind, already haunting him and breaking his heart even more.

I’m so sorry baby girl.

Tags: @kiwi-comics

[calpalirwin]

So F***in’ Deep

Summary: You watch Mike perform and hear that man go “So fuckin deep” and your mind starts racing.

A/N: Thought long and hard (heh, hey-o!) about letting this fic end at the first break. But then I didn’t because I know how antsy I get when I read fics that end right before the “good” stuff, even if it’s all good. Like it? Tell me. Hate it? Shove it! (JK, feel free to tell me that too. Constructive criticism is good for the soul. We learn more from our mistakes than our successes. Just don’t be rude about it, you know?)

Content: Sex. Cursing.

Word Count: Why do I keep adding this bit? 2,200-ish words.

And away, and away we go!

~~~

“So fuckin deep!” Mike practically moaned into the microphone, shooting you a wink, making the crowd lose their minds.

You laughed from where you were watching, shaking your head at him. It didn’t matter how many times you watched him perform, that little grin and head tilt of his would take your breath away every damn time. And that particular ad-lib mixed with the moan, well, it made you weak in the knees to say the least.

“You have fun, Mikey?” you asked him once you got backstage.

He nodded happily, his green eyes dancing brilliantly, sweat dripping from his forehead.

“Do you want to shower?”

He nodded again.

“Adrenaline making you speechless again?” you smiled up at him. Post-show was the only way Mike was ever quiet, the adrenaline pumping through him making him too excited to do much besides vibrate with energy.

“Do you want to me shower with you? Or do you want to relax by yourself?”

He answered by taking your hand and dragging you towards the bathrooms.

“Girl entering!” you announced, covering your eyes with a hand, trusting Mike to lead you.

“Aw, c’mon! Can’t a dude shower in peace?” Ashton called out through the steam.

“They’re individual stalls!” you laughed. “Just wrap yourself before you step out.”

“I’m not worried about us seeing each other nude, Y/N. I just don’t wanna hear you fuck my little brother!” Ashton laughed back.

“You peek, and I kick your ass,” Mike finally spoke, his racing heart calming down enough for him to find words.

“I won’t look at your girl on purpose,” Ashton assured him.

“Good. And that threat goes to you too, Cake!” Mike said to the benefit of the other men in their stalls.

“Won’t be able to, mate,” Luke’s voice sounded. “Sierra will kill me before you get the chance.”

“Damn straight!” Sierra’s voice sounded. “Y/N, you’re gorgeous, baby!”

“You are too!” you called out.

“1 shower! 1 shower without the sex!” Calum complained.

“We’re not having sex!” you and Sierra yelled back.

“Can I peek if you do?” Luke asked playfully. “Whoa, alright!” he laughed as Sierra probably pushed him and he slipped.

“Maybe a little sex?” Mike asked you in a whisper, pulling you into a stall. “Me and you, not you and Si. Although...”

“Maybe,” you smirked. “To you and me.”

His heart started racing again as he went to fetch some towels and you got the shower going the right temperature- a notch below skin-searing.

You were enjoying the spray when the door opened as you heard Mike shuffling out of his clothes before his chest pressed up against your back, arms wrapping around you. “You were awesome out there, Mikey,” you said, turning in his arms, feeling the spray pound on your hair. You rubbed at your eyes as the water flew in your face.

Mike chuckled and turned, taking the brunt of the spray, his hands brushing the water from your face. “Thanks baby.”

“You okay?” you asked, reaching up to touch his face. “You seem quieter than normal.”

He smiled at you. “Yeah, baby. I’ve just missed you.”

You smiled back. Getting a chance to be with him on tour was a rare occurrence, and this tour was already two months in before you got the chance to fly out to join him. “Just checking. Can’t have you getting sick on us. And I’ve missed you, too.”

“Not sick. Just happy.”

“You’re loud when you’re happy, Mikey,” you told him.

“But, I did just get done performing, and I currently have you very naked and in my arms. You know how my adrenaline makes me too jittery to speak.”

“Yeah, about that performance,” you smirked.

“I was awesome, and I kicked ass. Yeah, I know,” he said with an eye roll. It was what you always said and he still never believed it.

“Cocky,” you laughed. “And true. But there’s something else,” you added.

“Mmm? And what’s that?”

“So fuckin deep?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “With that little moan and head tilt? Mikey, you’re gonna murder your fanbase.”

“What fanbase?” he laughed. “Nobody’s a Mike girl these days. Ash and Cal are the ones dying their hair now, and Luke’s still the golden boy he always was. Mike girls have… what’s the phrase? Swerved into their lanes.” His tone was playful, but there was an underlying darkness to his words. He often felt insecure compared to his bandmates. In his eyes, he was the dorky nerd playing punk rock pretend.

“Keep doing that ‘so fuckin’ deep’ bit and the whole world will be Mike girls,” you assured him.

“Yeah? You think so?” he asked, his green eyes hopeful.

“I know so.”

His cheeks flushed. “Aw, baby.”

“Don’t get embarrassed. You, Michael Gordon Clifford, are hot. Devastatingly so.”

“Oh yeah?” he asked, his eyes darkening.

“Oh yeah,” you agreed, leaning up to kiss him. “So fuckin hot,” you murmured as you both deepened the kiss.

“Mmm,” he murmured back. “Gotta be quiet, princess,” he told you and you shivered. He only ever called you “princess” in very specific situations. You knew what was coming, the soft boyfriend flipping into rough dominance. “Can you do that for me?” His hands that held you to him started to wander, tracing a path over your hips and between your thighs.

You nodded, biting your lip as he pushed a finger in you. 

He held you steady against him as his finger worked faster. When one finger wasn’t enough, he pushed in a second and you bit into his shoulder, a small moan escaping your lips anyway. “Quiet, princess, or I’ll make you quiet,” Mike tsked at you.

“Not in here, Mikey,” you breathed into his ear. Your knees got sore easily when he made you “be quiet” and you didn’t quite like the idea of your knees gouging into the tile floor of the shower.

His eyes softened the slightest bit at your words as he nodded. “Aw, does my princess wanna be loud for me?” his voice cooed in your ear, flipping back into the rough dominance.

“Yes, Mikey,” you whispered.

“You like when I make you quiet, don’t you, princess?”

“Mhm!” You were getting louder now, both with your responses and moans, as his fingers continued to work you over. “Close, Mikey,” you got out between panted breaths, feeling the knot in your stomach ready to come undone.

He spun you around so your back was to him, feeling him hard against your back. His free hand clapped over your mouth. “Cum for me, princess,” he coaxed, his thumb rubbing fast at your clit as his fingers pulled at your g-spot.

“Mikey!” you screamed around his hand, legs shaking.

“You’re so good for me, princess,” he praised, he fingers slowing down as you continued to shake.

“How is it that when you’re rough with me, you’re still gentle?” you asked, giggling slightly as your body relaxed from the high.

His eyes were soft again as he turned you back to face him, his face nuzzling into your neck to breathe you in. “It’s cuz I love you, baby. Don’t actually want to hurt you. And I can’t wear you out just yet.”

“Can you still make me be quiet, though?” you asked, your voice soft as you placed a kiss on his cheek.

“Only a little bit,” he compromised. “I’ve missed hearing you.”

“Well, let’s hurry this shower up then.”

~~~

“On your knees, princess,” he said, once the do not disturb card was on the hotel door.

You grinned wickedly at him and dropped to your knees on the pillow he had thoughtfully tossed to the floor. Your hands reached for his pants but he smacked you away. “Mikey,” you pouted.

“No hands, princess. I’m gonna fuck that pretty little mouth of yours.”

“Oh?” you asked, excitedly.

He dropped to his own knees, his hand grabbing your chin, his thumb tracing your lips. “Think you can handle that, princess?”

“Might wanna touch you, Mikey.”

“Might not have time for that,” he said, placing a sloppy kiss along your jaw before he stood up and dropped his pants and boxers.

Your hands reached out instinctively to stroke him, but his hands slapped yours away, harsher than the first time. “Mikey!” you pouted. “You’re not playing fair.”

“If you wanna touch something, touch yourself. All I want to feel right now is the back of your throat.”

“That’s deep,” you said, your eyes wide, as you pushed your own pants down.

“So fuckin deep,” he growled, before pushing his length into your mouth.

“Good, God,” you moaned around him.

“That’s not quiet, princess,” he tsked, as he started moving his hips back and forth, your tongue gliding across his cock.

“Do you care?” you asked, when he moved far enough out for you to speak somewhat clearly.

One of his hands grabbed at your chin, much rougher than he had previously, jerking your head up to look at him. “Right now? Yes.”

You gave a small nod of understanding and he released his grip. “Oh, and you better tell me before you cum,” he added with a pointed glance at your hand that was rubbing circles over your clit.

“Don’t I always?” you winked.

“Shut up,” he chuckled before he pushed his way back in your mouth.

His groans added with the fact you couldn’t touch him only worked you into more of a frenzy, your free hand moving your panties out of the way to give your working hand more access. You were grateful for Mike’s sex-crazed state that had him thrusting in and out of your mouth because it gave you more focus to attend to your own needs.

“Fuck, c’mere!” he growled, pulling out suddenly and jerking you to your feet.

“What are y- whoa!” you said as he pushed you backwards onto the bed. “Mikey, I was in the middle of something,” you grumbled.

“Here, let me, princess,” he winked, pushing your legs open and burying his head between you.

“Mikey!” you gasped as his tongue worked you over.

“You think I was just gonna listen to how wet I make you, and not get a taste?” his voice vibrated against you.

“Mikey! Not gonna last!”

“Aw, does my princess wanna cum?”

“Yes!” you said, gripping the sheets.

“Aw, you can ask better than that,” he teased, adding two fingers in you with ease.

You bit into your fist and shook your head.

“What’s wrong, princess? You can be loud now,” he told you, his free hand pulling your arm down.

“Mikey…” you writhed against him.

“Say what you want, princess.”

“Words. Can’t. Please!”

“Close enough,” he smirked, before pulling the orgasm from you.

When he didn’t let up, you kicked your legs, screaming. “Mikey!” you begged.

“One more, princess.”

“Mikey, please!”

“One more,” he said, more sternly, his free hand holding you down.

“Can I touch you, at least?” you whined, your squirming distracting him enough for you to somewhat catch your breath.

He rolled his eyes, but adjusted both of you so you could reach him and he could continue to drive you over the edge.

“Mikey!” you shrieked, gripping him hard as he tongue sucked on your sensitive clit.

“Give me one more, and then I’ll fuck you, princess.”

“Mikey…” you whined, needing him inside you.

“I said,” his voice growled, his hand holding you down as you squirmed, irritated with your impatience. “One. More!”

“MIKEY!”

“There it is,” he grinned. “See was that so hard, princess?” he continued to grin as he moved to kiss you.

“I thought you weren’t going to wear me out?” you asked, your chest heaving.

“We both know you can handle two orgasms, princess,” he winked, positioning himself above you.

“Three. You’re forgetting the shower one.”

“My point still stands. You can handle more, and we both know it, princess.”

“You still gotta let me breathe between the highs, Mikey.”

“Do you have your breath now, princess?”

“Yes… wh- OH GOD!” you moaned, fingers digging into his shoulders as he pushed into you.

“God, I’ve missed you, princess,” he said, placing sloppy kisses along your cheeks and neck, his hips slamming into yours as his hands gripped your arms.

“Mikey?”

“Yes, princess?” he grunted.

“Can you say it?”

“Say what?”

“Mikey…” you said, your eyes pleading.

“Oh,” he nodded, understanding. He pulled almost all the way out before slamming deep into you, making you gasp. “So. Fuckin. Deep!” he said, each word a new thrust. “Hmm? Is that what you wanted, princess? Wanted to feel me bury myself deep in you?”

“Yes! Mikey!” you nodded, feeling on the edge of another release.

“So fuckin deep,” he moaned slowly in your ear and you screamed his name in his.

~~~

“Mikey?” you asked, cuddled up in his arms.

“Hmm?”

“Can you do that every time we have sex?”

“Do what, baby?”

“The ‘so fuckin deep’ thing.”

His cheeks flushed in embarrassment. “You like that, huh?”

“It’s really hot,” you nodded.

“Maybe,” he conceded, and you knew all the words he wasn’t saying. He really didn’t like getting rough with you as his brain had a hard time separating the ravenous lust from the love he felt towards you.

“We can have soft sex, if you want,” you said, nuzzling your face into his, placing soft kisses along his jaw.

“Maybe in a bit. Wanna play videogames with me?”

“Mario Kart?”

“You’re on!” he grinned, scrambling out of bed to plug the gaming device into the TV.

“Hey Mikey?” you asked, moving to sit on the edge of the bed.

“Yeah baby?”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too, baby.”

[malethirsty]

Magnetic: Cleen Rock One

Cleen’s Garage 

Summary: You & your neighbour Cleen had massive chemistry, but both of you had not made a move, however this was about to change.

Warnings: M/M smut (21+), Bareback, Daddy Kink

Inspired by: https://twitter.com/malethirst/status/1197343521524477952?s=21, https://twitter.com/malethirst/status/1197343534040268800?s=21, https://twitter.com/malethirst/status/1197343544781897728?s=21, https://twitter.com/malethirst/status/1197343557218004992?s=21 & https://twitter.com/malethirst/status/1197343646623752192?s=21

The old saying was ‘Neighbors should be there for one another. That’s when good neighbors become good friends’ but you were past being friends at this point. Your neighbor in question: Cleen Rock One. The tattooer moved in a while back & you were fascinated by him. You thought he would push around a sweet thing like you, but anything but. He approached you to use your tools to fix a car he was working on, you struck up a conversation & things went from there.

However more recently, you’d began to see him without his tank tops and you were getting horny. Once you’d seen him washing his car shirtless and covered in grease as he worked below the car as well, you’d spent a solid half an hour masturbating to him. Handshakes became longer, you hung onto every word he said, you were crushing hard, but would he accept you? That’s what was stopping you from saying anything.

However across the road at Cleen’s house, he also was going through the same thing you were. After meeting you, he could no longer watch his straight porn without thinking of you in the position of the woman he wanted to fuck. He would wank & think of you, and when that happened, he had the most Earth shattering orgasms. Whilst having his reservations about telling you (his thoughts mainly that you were long distance with someone else), he was also braver, which led to him breaking the tension.

You were hanging around your house, thinking of seeing if you could visit Cleen, when he texted you. As you checked it, you saw something that made you both halt and cause your stomach to drop. Cleen’s message said the following ‘Enough of this tension, My house NOW’ Had he worked out your crush? Had you said something to upset him? Either way, you dressed up professionally and went over to his house. The front door was unlocked as per usual, so you walked in. “Cleen?” You asked into the open house “In the garage man.” Came his reply. At least he wasn’t mad at you, or his reply would have been more serious, gaining a bit more confidence. You crossed over and opened the garage door, stepping down into the room “Cleen, what’s u-“ you stopped gazing at your friend. Cleen was standing in the garage a towel covering below his torso, no other clothes anywhere “This is what’s up.” He answered your question, grabbing his stiff cock “I can tell you want me, and I mean who wouldn’t. But you’ve stayed in my mind more than anyone else, you occupy my thoughts all day, when I’m working on my car, tattooing, I even think about you when I watch porn, and I masturbate to the thought of throwing you on my car and fucking you so hard, you’ll practically marry me right there and then. I need to know, do you want this dick?”

‘Wow’ that’s all you could think. Everything you had wanted was fully blossoming now, and all you had to do was say the word. “Yes” Cleen undid his towel, and you finally got to see his massive cock. It was 10 inches, thick as could be, fat and massive, it was as beautiful as the man who had it. Cleen grinned “Come here babe”, you crossed the garage floor and pulled Cleen into a kiss, his tongue getting in. You wrapped your legs around Cleen, pulling him in further. “Fuck, you’re eager!” Cleen remarked, laughing a bit “Damn right I am, I’ve been in love with you Cleen for a long while, but I didn’t say anything cause you didn’t clue me in. I mean straight acting men who fuck men often look like they’ll beat the shit out of you” Cleen shoved you to the ground “Like that?” you nodded “I’d prefer you have your full voice yelling as I fuck you hard, so you need to save it by sucking my dick!” You obeyed him, licking his tip, earning groans from the heavily tattooed man “FUCK, take it cocksucker. When you swallow it, we’ll be in fuckin heaven!” He yelled in appreciation, shoving himself forwards, and into your waiting mouth, as if on auto pilot, you hollowed your cheeks, sucking him in.

“OH FUCK YES!” Cleen threw his head back, eyes rolling back as well “Fucking take me Y/N, take me deep into your mouth!” His nestled his hands in your head, getting a tight grip as he thrusted hard. To his utter delight, you had no gag reflex, so you could take his entire cock “Fuck Y/N, go up and down, make daddy feel good.” You did as he instructed and Cleen continued his rough pace. As you sucked him deeper down your throat, you also took the opportunity to roll his balls, making the tattooist scream “OH YES! FUCKING HELL Y/N, YOU KEEP GOING AND I’LL CUM!” With your confidence now on a record high, you decided ‘Fuck it, why not?’ You fought back against Cleen’s slack hands & sucked his balls, the man’s breathing now raggedly being drawn. “YES! Just like that. Fuck, you’re really gonna make me cum before I fuck you? You’re a slut for cum, aren’t you, you want nothing more than for a man to shoot his load, if you keep it up oh- I’m- oh fuck- gonna. FUCK I’M GONNA CUM! I- I’M GONNA! AHHHHHHHH!” Cleen shot load after load over you and you watched above, as your friend gasped for breath and words.

Eventually he stopped, removing his hands from your head. Slumping down, you went to check on him, worried at first “Cleen, are you ok?” He looked up and grinned “Yeah, you look so hot with my load all over your face!” Cleen grabbed his phone on a station table and snapped pictures “Yeah Y/N, looking like a damn slut, model my load all over your face, I don’t need no damn porn star to jerk off to now, I have you & these pictures.” A sence of pride beaming inside you, you continued to make seductive poses, making sure that Cleen would have a great time working a load out and judging from his rehardening dick, you were doing a good job. “Now I appreciate you got all fancy to see me, but I think the clothes will look better on the floor.” Cleen placed his phone down, and ripped your vest open, buttons flying everywhere, ripping off your shirt as well. He took off your pants, and threw them down “Fuck Cleen! I won’t be able to go back across the street!” Cleen grinned “I can give you cover clothes, but right now, I think you’ll be staying the night so I can fuck you all over my house.” This made you both intrigued and horny. Once you were as naked as him, Cleen leaned over & kissed you. “Get up on the car bonnet.”

As Cleen lubed up at the station, you spread yourself out, legs as well, giving Cleen a good view of your ass. “Fuck man” he groaned, shoving a finger in to prepare you “You look hotter than a blonde broad in heat, and you’re all mine” he added another finger, making you moan as he turned them. “Fuck Cleen, you’re fucking hot!” “Yeah, moan for me slut, who’s your daddy?” “Cleen Rock One!” You yelled out “Who is the only one that can make you hard?” “Cl-Cleen Rock One” you repeated “And who’s about to pull his fingers out & fuck you till you cum?” “Cl- Oh God!” You moaned as he found your G-Spot “Yeah, who’s your God babe, how do you worship now?” “CLEEN ROCK ONE!” You bellowed out, not caring who heard. “Fucking damn right it’s me!” Cleen removed his fingers & shoved his cock into your ass.

You yelled at his size, falling back onto the car, using the strength you did have to wrap your legs around him, holding him in place. You didn’t want him prolonging you, you were beyond that now. You and him, that’s all you both wanted. “Fuck bitch, your ass is so fucking tight” he groaned out, pounding away like a man in desperation. You tried to grasp onto something to hold onto but couldn’t find anything, Cleen hammering into you the only thing you could focus on “Fuck yes daddy” “Yeah baby boy take daddy’s big cock. Women can’t handle me properly, but you know how, so perfect for daddy.” The praise was so hot to hear, you lent up to kiss Cleen, sweat falling from both of you, as you groaned together, the tension hot as all hell.

Cleen moaned out loud “Oh fuck Y/N, you’re leaking precum!” Cleen wanked your cock, collected it and licked it up “You taste amazing. I can’t wait for your shot load!” He began to pound even rougher, causing you to scream and yell “CLEEN, FUCK ME!” Cleen lost all composure, fucking into you with so much passion, you saw your vision go white “Fuck yeah Y/N, you gonna cum?” You nodded, Cleen seizing your cock & pumping it fast with no limits. “Fuck Cleen, you’re gonna make me c-F-UCK!” You shot your load, it landing on your chest face & also on Cleen’s face “Fuck! That’s some pent up load hey bud.” Cleen laugh snarled, dipping his fingers onto your face to clean up your load mixed with his from earlier, sucking his finger into his mouth “Fuck man, you’ve gotta taste this.” His pace suddenly went even faster as he was determined to shoot his load. “Fuck bud, I’m not gonna last much longer, Fuck I’m almost there, clench around me man. FUUUUCCCCKKKK!”

Liter after liter of his load was shot into your ass as Cleen moaned out loud, slumping onto you, mixing your load with his tattoos. Moving his hand down, he scooped up his dripping load and smeared it on his tattoos, right over the heart one. “Lick it up babe.” Cleen groaned, you obeying instantly despite being puffed. It tasted like honey & sugar “Oh fuck Cleen!” “Yeah, good ain’t it. That was the best fuck I’ve ever had.” After calming down, Cleen eventually moved away “Want anything from the fridge?” He asked you “You have chilled water?” “Yeah, I’ll fix you some ice cream as well. We might have a use for it later it depends.” You grinned, you had finally got the man you wanted, this day was perfect.

[handsomekatagawa-archive]

About Time (Arthur Morgan x Reader)

AN- been watching call the midwife so here's an Arthur oneshot where his gal is preggo

EDIT: I don't think I will be writing a part 2

---

It was a peaceful morning. The birds were singing and everyone in camp was getting a start on their day. Well, everyone except Arthur.

He had had a rough night of tracking down a bounty, and didn't get home until the early hours of the morning. Even though (Y/n) didn't like it when he went bounty hunting, she knew it had to be done. They had to have some money saved up for a baby, after all. At least, that's what they told everyone else.

What everyone else didn't know was that they had been paying for some land out west in Arizona ever since they found out that (Y/n) was pregnant. Their plan was to leave in the middle of the night a few weeks before she was due. That would give them plenty of time to get to their new land. A gang was no place to raise a baby, and Arthur knew that from experience.

Everything was going as planned. That was, until (Y/n) began shaking Arthur awake. "Arthur! Oh, shit! Arthur wake up!"

He awoke with a jump, frantically sitting up and swinging his legs over his cot. "Whas' 'smatter?"

The anxious look on her face answered his question. "Shit... Already? Are ya sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure, Arthur." She groaned as she gripped tightly onto the side table, rocking back and forth. "Go get Abigail and Miss Grimshaw. Hurry!"

---

"It's alright, (Y/n)." Abigail shushed into the bedridden girl's ear. "Not much longer now, alright?"

"You said that hours ago." (Y/n) moaned as sweat and tears ran down her face. "It hurts. It hurts so damn bad."

"I know it, but it's goin' to be worth it. Trust me. Just think about holding that sweet little baby of yours." Said the dark haired woman. She looked over at Miss Grimshaw and Tilly, who were at the end of the cot. "How's it lookin'?"

"This youngun's gonna be here very soon, I can tell you that much." She turned to face Tilly. "Go get a warm blanket and tell Mary-Beth to fetch some water. And as for you, Mrs. Morgan, you save your strength. It won't be long now."

---

Arthur stared down at his cup of coffee as another groan emitted from the tent. All of the men in camp gave him sympathetic looks and offered him booze, but he refused to drink. He was now sitting at one of the camp tables with John, listening to his wife lets out cries of agony. He had tried to go in, but the women had rushed him out as soon as he pulled the cloth aside.

"How're you feeling, Arthur?" John asked suddenly.

He stared at the younger man for a moment, then rubbed his eyes and sighed. "I'm scared shitless. How'd you feel when Jack was born?"

"About the same." John half smiled.

They were silent for a while, until Arthur cleared his throat and began to speak in a low tone. "John, listen to me... I don't like doing this, but I've got to tell ya something. Something about me and (Y/n) and the baby."

"Go ahead, Arthur. I'm all ears."

And so Arthur told John his plan. He told him how he'd been picking up more odd jobs around Valentine, Rhodes, and even Saint Denis to save up money to pay off the land in Arizona. He told him how they had been planning it ever since they found out (Y/n) was pregnant. He told him absolutely everything.

"Now she's gone and had the baby earlier than expected. We meant to head out in a few weeks and stay in a town with a good doctor until she had the baby, then go on to Arizona." He took a deep breath. "But right now, it's all falling apart. Our little hellraiser must be stubborn just like their momma."

John wasn't as shocked as Arthur anticipated. In fact, he was oddly calm. "I know what you mean about wanting to get out. That's why I ran off all those months ago. I wanted Abi and Jack to go too, but she was scared. I'm just glad you thought it out more than I did."

"So," Arthur said, taking a slow sip of his coffee. "Whaddya think we should do?"

---

"Come on, (Y/n)!" Miss Grimshaw urged. "I can see the head! Keep going!"

(Y/n) gave a big push just as the contraction ended, gaining a triumphant laugh from the older woman. "There's a girl. The heads born. Now take a breather. With the next pain, we need little pushes, ok?"

"Ok." (Y/n) panted as Abigail patted her face with a cool, damp cloth. "What does it look like?"

"Don't worry about that right now." Tilly butted in. "You just focus and get ready for this baby."

She nodded, throwing her head back onto the pillow. The pain started sharp and suddenly, and she had to keep herself calm and collected to give little pushes. After what seemed like a lifetime, she let out a yell and heard cheering from the girls. Shortly afterwards, she heard a sound that brought her tears of joy. It was her baby crying.

"You've got a baby girl, Mrs. Morgan. A tiny baby girl, but a girl nonetheless." Miss Grimshaw smiled as she set the baby down on a clean blanket. There, she cut the cord and swaddled the baby up, then placed a bowl underneath (Y/n). "Now that the hard part's out of the way, we've just gotta get the last bits of afterbirth."

"I don't care," (Y/n) smiled as tears rolled down her cheeks. "Just let me hold her. And get Arthur in here."

Tilly took the baby girl from Miss Grimshaw and gave it to (Y/n). Her heart nearly exploded when she saw such a tiny and vulnerable creature looking up at her with big blue eyes. "Hello, darlin'. Oh, you've got eyes just like your daddy."

As if on queue, the tent flap opened and Arthur stepped inside. He couldn't help but to tear up at the sight of the woman he loved most in the world cradling their baby. He stepped closer to them, and knelt next to the cot. "Hey there, darlins'. You throwing a party without me?"

"Look, Arthur," (Y/n) wept joyfully. "She's so beautiful."

"So tiny, too." He said in an amazed voice. He brought his finger up to the baby's hand, and she clasped her tiny fingers around it. He felt his heart melt in his chest. "Look at that... Already a daddy's girl."

(Y/n) looked up at him, smiling. "You wanna hold her?"

"'Course I do."

She handed the infant to him just before she delivered the placenta. While Abigail went to discard it, (Y/n) spoke in a hushed tone. "What're we gon' do, Arthur? This set back our plans a bit."

Arthur looked at her, then back to the baby in his arms. "I talked to John about it. Him, Charles, Sadie, and Abigail are gonna help us out. Gonna get a hold of a wagon for us, supplies to start out, everything like that so we can head straight for the ranch. I don't want you to worry about anything, alrigh'?"

She nodded silently, then laid back in the cot. She carefully rolled onto her side to face him. "You know, she needs a name. I like Anne for a middle name. Whatchu think about a first name?"

"Hmm..." Arthur grunted, looking down at the now sleeping baby. She looked so tiny and beautiful and fragile, like a flower. "How 'bout Jasmine? Read somewhere that they're the most delicate flower in the world."

"Jasmine Anne Morgan." She muttered softly, reaching over to gently caress the baby's head. "I think it's perfect."

[canumoveurseatup-no]

Call of the Void

Summary: you’re the rock star heartbreaker but Clint wants to change that and it took him a long time to do so, he finally introduces you to the team and come to find a certain speedster can’t help but be head over heels for you.

WC: 10.7k (this was 30 pages omg)

Pairing: Husband!Clint x Black!HexGirl!Reader x Sub!Boyfriend!Pietro

Warnings: This is based off EG Clint but everyone is alive. There’s smut so this is of course 18+, spirituality, finger in the bum, squirting, listening to people have sex, like one mention of suicide

A/N: i dunno if the hex girl au has been done and if it has i doubt there’s a black version so i’m glad i came up with this idea and ran with it. please comment and reblog!! SHOUT OUT TO @noire-griot FOR MAKING MY LOVELY MOOD BOARD!!

————

“Who’s the babe over there with all the tats?,” Clint looked over to one of his buds as he drank a beer and scanned the room, eyes stopping on you.

“Oh that’s Y/N... they call her Thorn. She’s the lead singer and bad ass guitarist of that new band, used to be called Hex Girls but changed it to ‘Call of the Void’” his friend took a swig if his beer and shrugged his shoulders, “I’d stay away from her though, she’s trouble, man. Absolute heartbreaker,”

Clint watched the chains on our pants swing back and forth as you danced with your band mates. He watched the way your faux locs swished like an ocean as you threw your head back in laughter. You were right up his alley, music artist with wonderful taste, bad ass tattoos and killer style. He wanted you.

“Mm,” Clint shrugged as well, “I can change that,”

“Clint, they don’t call her Thorn for nothing. She’ll stick her thorns on ya and leave ya bleeding out while she watches in enjoyment,”

“Maybe you should have been a fuckin’ poet rather than a drummer,”

“Eh, I do slam poetry on Wednesday’s,”

“Whatever, man. I’m gonna go talk to her,”

Clint’s friend said something that he couldn’t quite catch because he was already more than ten feet away in no time, the music was screaming through the dark room and you were screaming right along with your bandmates in each other’s faces.

“‘Scuse me,” Clint said into your ear. Usually you ignore guys who come up to you but someone about his voice intrigued you. You turned your head and your brows raise in interest as your eyes scan him up and down.

“Excuse you is right considering you were interrupting some fun,” Your voice was like velvet and it wrapped him in a tight embrace, “But I’ll allow it this once for a fan,”

He didn’t want to correct you, he’d actually never heard a single song, but he’d make sure to after tonight.

“Just wanted to let a little lady like you know you look good,”

You kinda just chuckled at him, “Not that little. Don’t get too much dip on ya chip, might break,” you tum back to your friends to continue your night of fun

“Guess I’ll just have to get another chip then,”

His voice made you freeze and slowly turn back to him, arms crossed and tattoos bold against your skin, “Persistent fella,”

“A woman like you only shows up once in every blue moon, gotta cease my chance,”

Your Tripp pants fell on your hips nicely and just under your cropped band tee, he could see the outline of a snake come up the side of your ribcage to under your boob.

“And men like you come and go just as the tide does, what makes you think I’m not gonna ride this wave out and throw you out like an old surfboard when I’m done like the rest?,”

Clint loves your attitude. He could tell you didn’t take any shit and that only made him want you more, “Not a regular ‘ole ripple like you’re used to, Thorn,”

You could smell his cologne as he stepped closer, it took everything you had in you to not close your eyes and bask in his scent. You watched him lick his lips and raise a brow at you. You liked this one, you could keep him around for a bit.

“Then what are ya?,”

“More like record breaking tsunami. Lasting effects, hard to forget something like me,”

With your Demonia Trinity’s, you stood at perfect eye level with him, he wasn’t giving up and while most of them usually don’t, this one was different. He had spunk to him.

“Hey, Tove,” you call over your shoulder to your bandmate. Sweet girl with fast fingers when it came to the keyboard and synth.

“Yeah?,”

“Lock up when you guys get home, don’t think I’ll be back tonight,”

———

A few foiled packets hit Clint in the chest and he looked down at them, shrugged before tearing one open and rolling it down on himself. He’s probably the first to not complain about having to wrap it up before he tapped it up.

You heard him let out a slow deep breath as he pushed into you slowly. He was boning a rockstar, someone of his caliber, he definitely made sure to show out so you’d be the one coming back for more.

You ran your hand up his tattooed sleeve until he pinned your hands above your head with one of his, “Can I choke you? Wanna feel your pulse pounding against my fingertips,”

“Holy shit, please,”

Usually it was you who did the turning out but now you were the one being turned out, you hated being out of control but here you were, legs busted wide open with a hand right around your throat. This man was something else.

Hard staccatoed thrusts are fucked into you and your body can’t help but fall subject to him. Seeing you now, under him, you were a completely different person. Out in the open you’re a badass sadist but here you are a submissive good girl.

“Not so tough are you now, huh?,” Clint was practically hate fucking you and that’s all you needed. You didn’t know you needed it until it was happening, “Wanted to be a bitch at the party but look at you now. You’re my bitch,”

“Oh fuck, yes,” normally you did the bitch calling, but dammit was Clint putting it down. You couldn’t help but be putty in his hands, “Harder. Need it harder,”

He fucked you until you broke free of his thigh grip and tapped out. He pulled out of your throbbing pussy as you wiped your tears trying to catch your breath.

“What are you doing to me?,” you cover your face and laugh.

“I told you I’m not those little ripples you fucked with before and I meant that. You wanted to ride the tsunami so now you get to drown,”

His finger pushed into your soaking pussy and your wetness was absolutely obscene. Your eyes rolled into your head and he hadn’t even started moving yet. He might as well had been drowning you, it was getting hard to breathe as another wave crashed down you, bringing you to yet another orgasm.

“I need you. I need you so fucking bad,”

His hands gripped your hips fighting before he sunk back deep into you, your back arching off the bed and toes curling into the covers. His lips never left your body. Lips wrapped around your brown nipples and sucked until he decided to move to your neck, biting and making sure you would feel him for a few days after.

“You know what I’m gonna do?,” he whispered in your ear

“Cum for me?,”

“Gonna cum hard for you and leave you to stew with your thoughts for days to come. Leave you wanting more,” he moved his hips harder, knocking the air out of you in moans and whimpers, “Gonna have you thinking about how I felt inside you like this. Not even your own hand can make you feel good like I can, you’re gonna have no choice but to come back for more,”

You knew he was right. He already exceeded your expectations at the underground party. Now he was really showing out.

“So you’re gonna cum for me like I want you to and not say a damn thing,” he lifted your legs on his shoulders and went harder, grunting loudly to chase his own orgasm.

“F-fuck fuck fuck!,” your nails dig into his forearms as you came another time, your body entirely spent.

His hips stilled as he came into the condom, panting with a slack jaw, hair sticking to his forehead, tattoos glistening in the glowing red room.

“I’ll call you a cab in the morning,” he simply pulled out of you and went in the bathroom to take a shower. You laid there shocked, usually you’d be the one calling the cab and leaving them to lie there in filth.

He was really something else

———

“Get your head in the game, Thorn!” Amity scolded. You kept forgetting the lyrics with Clint running through your mind, “We have a big show this weekend and there’s a huge prize at stake here,”

“Alright alright, Dusk. Just.. just shut it for a minute!,” sighing, you pinched the bridge of your nose before taking a sip of your water.

“Blood, blood, blood

Pour more through my veins

I'm a dirty, dirty girl

I want it filthy”

Muttering the lyrics to yourself you took a deep breath and stood back at the mic. It was a new song and granted, you wrote it, but something else was flooding your mind.

“She’s dickmatized,” Tove snickers and you throw your guitar pick at her

“At least I get some, Luna”

“We all can’t have ethereal pussy like you, Thorn,”

You three barely called each other by your real names now. The stage names stuck and worked as nicknames.

She handed you your guitar pick back and started on the synth again, ready for you to come in.

“I hate you for the sacrifices you made for me

I hate you for every time you ever bled for me

I hate you for the way you smile when you look at me

I hate you for never taking control of me

I hate you for always saving me from myself

I hate you for always choosing me and not someone else

I hate you for always pulling me back from the edge

I hate you for every kind word you ever said

I'll bleed you dry now,”

Your body swayed to the verse before you put your all into the chorus, screaming the lyrics and moving around like you had an audience. You imagined Clint there and that’s when you really started to feel the song. You imagine him in the front row, sweating and smiling at you, jumping up and down, headbanging. God, that would be a sight to see.

The intensity of the song had you thinking about that night and how he ruined you for any other man

“I love you for everything you ever took from me

I love the way you dominate and you violate me

I love you for every time you gave up on me

I love you for the way you look when you lie to me

I love you for never believing in what I say

I love you for never once giving me my way

I love you for never delivering me from pain

I love you for always driving me insane

I'll bleed you dry now”

You felt chills run down your body as you strummed the strings faster and faster, feeling your face heat up. You couldn’t wait to get there out front of a crowd where you’d have a whole crowd screaming out and moshing, fists pumping and eyes glazed over from the drunkenness and inebriation from all the pot.

You end the song with huff and a big smile

“See, all you had to was get your mind in the right place. We’re gonna kill it!,”

“So- was the dick that good? or should I say cock?,” Luna smiled mischievously and made sure to put extra and weird emphasis on the word.

“Coming out of your mouth? Hell no,”

You all sit on the couch and take a break. Creating music was not easy, creating good music wasn’t easy! So giving yourselves breaks was needed, especially with recording and working with modulations and screaming and the instruments, it was all a clusterfuck until it all came together.

“Come oooon, Thorn. Tell uuus, spill the potion,” She pleaded. She always liked to live vicariously through your stories lately, something about a sex fast to keep her energies in check.

“It was different. You know how I am. I barely let anyone touch me but goodness, girls. His hands were just- unreal. They were so rough and experienced. You know I like to be the dominant one but him? He took the wheel. He choked the hell outta me. Dirty talk is A1.. stroke game- it’s like a game of archery and he hits the bullseye every tiiiiime,” you clenched your legs together just thinking about it. You wondered when you’d get to see him again.

“He got a brother? Cousin? Best friend?,” Dusk looks over her glasses at you and sets her cup down.

“I don’t know all of that!,”

“Fuck me sidewaaaays I need some,” Luna screams out into the studio room.

“How far are you in your 100 day sex fast?,” you nudge her.

“Bitch, only day 30,” she sighs, “but it’s for a good cause. My body rejects dick that’s not for me, so I’m protecting her for the time being,”

It made sense- you never really had to worry about that- condoms were always a must- and you never really had a person come into your life that made you not want to use them.

“Your vagina is gonna become depressed,” Dusk adds nonchalantly.

“That’s not possible!”

“Oh but it is,”

They always went back and forth like that. Dusk was like the instigative sibling that was monotone about everything to sound more serious and Luna was like the younger sibling that believed everything and whined while you were like that single parent that had to break them apart.

“Thooooorn, tell her that’s not truuue,” she flung herself back in the chair.

“Sorry, buttercup, read up on it. The vagina can become depressed from lack of sex”

“Listen, I already gotta deal with regular depression now my vagina gotta go through it?!,”

“Just masturbate,”

“Okay okay- enough,” you stand up and laugh at the two, “Let’s get back to work. We still have three other songs to work on for the set list this weekend,”

—————

The crowd was rowdy. You were peeking from behind the curtain and saw the other bands getting them excited for you. Being an all black girl alternative band was already intimidating but headlining a music festival? Yeah that was different.

You stood on side and held your crystal, giving it purpose before you went out on stage and gave it your all.

“Now for the act you’ve all been waiting for” the announcer gets the crowd going and their screams put a smile on your face. You’ve still got a long way to go but you’re proud of how far you’ve come with your band and music. Starting out as a little garageband known as the Hex Girls now you’re here, performing at music festivals.

“Oh no-,” Luna turns to you, “I got the nervous poops again,”

“Well I hope you wore ya diaper because we don’t have time for a potty break,” Dusk tightens her guitar strap and gets ready to walk on stages

“I don’t need a diaper! It’ll pass once we get on stage!,”

“Call of the Vooiiidd!!,”

You adjust your ear piece and pat Luna on her butt, “It’s shooow tiiiime”

The lights were hot as hell, but it helped distract you from the large crowd. They were so excited to see you guys perform though. You used the adrenaline of you being nervous as a charge to get you going. You’ve all put in long hours of hard work and lyrical artistry to be here. The breakdowns, the arguments, broken instruments and wanting to give up on multiple occasions is what got you here. 

You got this.

“We’re Call of the Void,” the screams were like a welcoming hug, comforting in a way and took any fear you had away, “And we’re here to fuck shit up,” 

Dusk came in with the drums and there was no turning back now.

What you didn’t know was that Clint was there. At the first mention of your band being there he had to come and support, he spent days listening to your songs and learning the lyrics just so he could be here today and support you. He spent nights pleasing himself to the sound of your voice growling invigorating lyrics through his headphones. He’d be lying if he said you didn’t run laps in his mind, just like he did in yours. 

He watched you run all around and jump around the stage, getting the crowd going. A mosh pit opened up right behind him and while any other time he’d join in the exhilarating moments of fighting strangers to music, he stayed right where he was to watch you. The way you moved your body was so languid and fluid, the way your lips moved to sing, scream, growl every lyric and modulation had chills running down his body. 

Sure your music was great through headphones, but live was such a better experience, this made him realize why you all got big so fast.

He watched Dusk get wild in the drums, his eyes glistened at the way Luna’s fingers moved on the keyboard and synth. He admired you all, this was a band, he thought. 

You on the other hand, you are having the time of your life and you know this is just the beginning. You stepped to the front of the stage and got low, that’s when you saw him... mouthing your lyrics and smirking at you. 

You got on your hands and knees and crawl to the edge, getting as close to him as possible as he was a couple rows away.

“I know you want me I know you need me But I just wanna fuck”

You wink at him and the crowd only screams louder and Clint can feel himself getting hotter. Not because of the propinquity of the pit, but because you just did that to him. It was like  you could set him on fire but extinguish it at the same time. 

You could give him life yet take it away. 

That was the kind of power you had. 

You ran an entire set, 45 minutes worth of pure adrenaline and sweat. Some people in the crowd suffering from nosebleeds and busted lips and bruising just because your music made everyone that wild. They loved it though because at the end, everyone was left grinning and screaming for an encore. Everyone knew they’d be getting a good sleep tonight.

“Thank you all for the ride,” you were catching your breath as you paced the stage, “You definitely will be seeing and hearing more from us. This is just the beginning,”

You were thankful to have such a diverse fan base, even more blessed to see more alternative people of color like yourself. This is what you wanted. This was a dream come true and it only came true because you had people who believed in you and people who never told you to give up.

“Be safe getting home,” You, Luna and Dusk run off the stage and hug each other, still full of energy.

“That was the beesst show we have ever had!,” Dusk was wiping her forehead and smiling back at you both as if what just happened wasn’t real. But it was real alright. 

“The energy tonight was amaziiiing!,” Luna squealed as she skipped to the trailer, the crystals around her neck creating a small clinking sound every time she landed on the balls of her feet. 

The breeze felt good against your skin as your body finally started to cool down. 

“Thorn,”

You stop in your tracks and the girls turn around at the voice as well. They were almost in the trailer when they saw him walking behind you. 

“Ouuu he’s baaaack,” Luna teases.

“Get ya dumbass inside!,” 

“But I wanna seeee,” 

Dusk pushes her inside the trailer and shuts the door behind the two of them, leaving you and Clint at the steps.

“You killed it out there,” 

“Of course I did,” you sat on the steps and glared up at him. You couldn’t let him onto you, couldn’t let him know that you’d been thinking about him ruining you all over again just like he did only a week ago.

“Let’s not play games or beat around the bush and drop hints hoping the other will catch on,” He stands tall, crossing his arms and looking smug. Damn him, all the other men were just play toys but him? He wasn’t with the shits. He wanted to lay down the law which was completely opposite of what you were used to.

“Not sure what you mean,” you were sure he could read you like a book. You enjoyed remaining an indecipherable code to everyone else but Clint just had this ability to crack the code and everything he found inside was for the taking.

“I’m think you do,” He leaned down and got in your face, noses touching and his eyes boring into yours, “So let’s just be adults and admit we can’t get each other off the other’s mind, yeah?,”:

You really did a number on yourself with this one.

----------

“Try not to need me,” Clint sat down with the team at dinner and explained that he’d be going away for a bit. For what exactly, they didn’t need to know all of that, they just needed to know that they’d have to make due with the resources they have now.

You two had been together for two years and married for about six months now and your band had made it big. He was going on tour with you, after you had done enough begging. In and out the bedroom.

“Why do you always disappear like this?,” Steve couldn’t help but ask. They always ask, it was a game of cat and mouse and he always got away.

“I have other obligations,” Clint always kept his answers short and vague.

“Like?,”

“Like minding my business, Tony,” 

This was the norm. They had no idea what Clint was up to and he made sure Fury kept it that way. Sure you were already big, but the world didn’t need to know you were his wife. You knew about what he did, the avenging by day, rock star husband by day and night. 

“I can’t see anything, guys,” Wanda’s voice gave off a defeated tone, as if she was supposed to succeed in some top secret mission and failed. 

“Really guys? Trying to take a look into my head?,” he eats a piece of pepperoni that fell on his short and shook his head, “That’s a new low,” 

“We just wanna know what you’re hiding from us,” Nat nudges him with her foot.

“Clearly if I’m hiding anything it’s for good reason,” Clint snatches the remote from Sam to turn up the TV to avoid any more conversation, “Now shut up, this episode is great,” 

-

You were at home packing everything into the tour bus. This would be your home again for the next few months. This was your first tor since you’ve all made it big and while it was nerve racking, you wouldn’t give it up and the fact you have a husband now? and he gets to experience this with you? yeah you definitely wouldn’t trade this. 

You have two days left at home before you all hit the road cross country. You told Clint to spend time with his avenging friends. You made a list of everything that you needed and made sure to check it like ten times before setting it to the side. 

You knew Dusk and Luna would wait till the last minute to pack just to whine that they forgot something and have to make a pit stop at the nearest store to get what they need. It was classic them to do so, it’s happened on past trips.

You hear the jingle of Clint’s keys and the heavy patter of his boots coming down the hall just as you set his duffel bag and suitcase by the closet door.

“I love it when you wear my shirts, love the side boob,” 

He always adored you in all your glory, even when your hair was all over the place because you were in between styles. Even when your nail polish was chipped, even when you didn’t feel like shaving any body hair and it was grown out. 

“I thought I told you to spend time with your hero friends,” You stand on his boots to lean up and get a kiss. He tasted like his favorite beer, “You taste like beer, what did I tell you about driving home after drinking?,”

“It was a couple sips before I threw it out and came home because they started badgering me again. So I came home to my wife,” He throws himself back on the bed and kicks off his boots before pulling you into his lap to straddle him.

You love the feeling of his hands on your thighs, just rubbing them so his hands didn’t remain idle. You couldn’t help but kiss him, you’ve missed him lately. All the board meetings and planning and extra time in the studio had separated you two more than you’d like to admit. While you did tell him to spend time with his friends, you were glad he returned home early. 

“Ou, this is new, which one is this?,” his hand reached for your necklace but he drew it back when you slapped it away.

“Hey! Didn’t anyone ever tell you to not touch another person’s crystals?” You smooth your hands along his chest and give him a look that lacked amusement.

“Well excuuuse me,” his arms wrapped around your thighs so that he could flip you over, “I wanna have coitus with my wife now though and I’d like to choke you out so I’d recommend removing it,”

“Oh.. oh okay,” you raised yourself off the black sheets for a second to remove you necklace and set it on the bedside table, “I’m all yours,”

“Glad we had that talk,” 

You loved to see him smile, especially when his eyes became tiny slits because that indicated how genuine his smile was and hey, it’s you he’s smiling at, of course it’d be genuine.

His hands slipped into the sides of his homemade muscle shirt that you were wearing and his cool rings clashed with the warmth of your pierced nipples as he groped them and rolled them in his hands. You opened your legs wider for him to get closer while his mouth was working on your neck and lips.

Tonight was about to be full of rounds as this was the last time you both would be able to have all types of sex in the comfort and privacy of your own home. You could be as loud as you want. He would be as rough as he wanted without people thinking you were being hurt.

“Take the shirt off, Y/N,” the way his voice rasped always got you going, always ready to let him have his way with you, you loved feeling vulnerable under him because outside of this you were that independent woman who didn’t need a man despite her having a husband and Clint was there to support you independence, but you still appreciated his support and efforts no matter what because sometimes you did need to be brought back down to Earth and he was there.

“Fuck I missed you,” you gasp as his teeth tug on your hardened nipples, barely giving you time to throw the shirt to the side. 

He showed you how much he missed you by burying his face in between your thighs. Feasting on everything you had to offer. You’ve thanked the cosmos over and over for giving you a man who treated you right, stayed in his lane yet supported you and put his foot down when needed aaand delivered a good sex game. He was the perfect package, including all the bits and pieces that made up his own personality. 

“Yes, baby” you spread your legs wider and hold the back of your thighs to watch his tongue move fast against your swollen clit. 

“I will never get sick of the way you taste,” he groaned, staring at your pussy like it was the best meal he’d ever have in his life. He got into it every time, closing his eyes and shaking his head, moaning against you at the juices that flowed for him. 

Those fingers, absolute gifts. Something about getting fingered always had you ready to explode. He moved them fast, made sure to stimulate all parts of you. He never failed to make you whine and your toes curl in the air.

“I want you to cum for me,” 

And what he wants, he gets. You’re moving your hips up against his fingers in a needy little motion with wanton cries and chills running down your body. 

“That’s it,” 

He was so encouraging and it never failed to make your face heat up. You damned him for it from the moment you met him. Clint knew what he was doing, pushing every button, threading the eye of every needle, hitting every target dead set in the center. He just knew.

“C’mon, no more games. I need you,” you pulled on his hair to get him back up to you, “I want it, all night,”

------

Today would be the last day everyone got to see Clint before he went on another hiatus without a word of what he would be doing or so much as a hint to where. For months, again, the team wouldn’t know if he was dead or alive until he popped back up.

Pietro was alone in his room, spending his free time watching your music and behind the scenes videos. 

He was obsessed with your band, but for the most part, just you. The way you’d look into the camera made him feel like you were looking at him. Your hair always sat atop your head like a crown no matter the style. Whether it was your natural big puffs, your individual braids, wigs, locs, anything, he was mesmerized. He was a hardcore fanboy and was not afraid to admit it. 

“I think... I think being spiritual is much more than just trying to stay positive all the time,” 

God, he loved your voice. He loved how low in register it was to others. You sounded so dignified and established, just by talking.

“Honestly, fuck the whole notion that you have to be nice to be seen as spiritual. Sometimes the most spiritual thing you can do is put a bitch in her place, I’m not saying be an unwarranted asshole but don’t let people walk over you just because they think you can’t help but be nice” He laughed at the genuine answer, he didn’t know you personal but he felt so close to you, granted you are human, but you just didn’t let the fame get to your head and sometimes he had to remember you were a real life human, 

“Respecting your boundaries is spiritual, not being taken advantage of is spiritual, allowing yourself to feel anger is spiritual. It’s so much more than crystal wearing and sage burning and trying to be happy go lucky. No one can be like that all the time... no matter how hard you want to be, because there’s always that someone that wants to get you out of character,” 

Pietro felt connected to you, he’s never felt like this before. He was never the type to rush to a computer to buy the early bird tickets or the latest merch but here he was, being that person and he didn’t give a damn.

“Piet, time for dinner. Clint’s here and he brought a guest, so clean yourself up,” Wanda threw something at him to get his attention away from the phone but he just grunted while getting out of bed.

“I’ll be out in a biiit,” He shooed her away and fixed his hair and hung up his room shorts for a nice pair of dark jeans. He decided to keep your band’s tee crew neck on, that should be good enough for Clint’s guest. How ‘cleaned up’ did Wanda want him to get? 

Pietro slipped on some shoes and trudged his way into the dining room. He still had his phone in hand watching your videos when he heard the melodic, sultry vibrations of your voice, and not just from his phone, no. You were actually here, sitting down, eating dinner in his home.

He dropped his phone and stood there with his mouth hung open. He was in such a shock he was surprised he didn’t piss his pants in excitement.

“Is he okay?,” you noticed him staring at you and found it weird until you noticed your band name on his crew neck. A fan, interesting. 

“Yeah he’s just obsessed over you,” His sister shrugs and places mash potatoes on her plate, “Piet, sit down and close your mouth. You look silly,” 

“How cute,” 

He turned red at the sound of you calling him cute. You found him cute... you’re seated right in front of him and you called him cute!

Pietro slowly slid into his chair and tried not to stare but he couldn’t help it. You’re real.

“Anyway,” Clint cleared his throat and looked around the table to make sure he had everyone’s attention, “Now that everyone is here. This is my wife, Y/N and she’s an artist,”

“You owe me 50 bucks,” Sam points to Natasha and Bucky.

The two groan in in defeat and slap the money in his hands. You found it amusing, they all had a cute little team going here. 

“Babe, this is everyone,” 

Your eyes pan around the room to get a good look everyone, putting a face to a name, you knew who was who just by his vague descriptions from before.

Your eyes stop on Pietro and he’s still looking at you as if he’s seen a ghost. He was honestly adorable and he reminded you of your early days when you’d make men like him your toys. You send him a wink and his yes only get wider.

“Piet stop ogling her!,” Wanda slapped him upside his head and he hissed, sending a glare her way for embarrassing him.

“It’s quite alright,” you smile at the twins and turn to look at Clint who had a brow raised at you. He knew exactly what you were thinking. Before you two even got married, you explained to him that you were in polygamy and he was fine with that. He never really had eyes for another woman and he knew how other times you liked to feel dominant and while that wasn’t his thing, he was willing to let you have that with someone else, but the moment never presented itself, until  maybe... now?

“What?,” you knew he was onto you but you loved playing bashful with him. 

“We’ll talk when we get home,” he tried to hide his smile but it was you he was talking to, hiding his smile was useless. 

“So, Y/N,” Tony cuts in, “What kind of art is it exactly that you do?,” 

You notice the way he’s eyeing you and Tony himself wasn’t sure if he found you odd or if he was fucking with it, either way, he liked it. 

“I make music,” plain and simple, “My childhood best friends and I made a band when we graduated high school, at first we didn’t think we’d honestly get anywhere but we’re about to go on our first tour,” 

Taking a sip of your wine you await a response

“Is that why Clint always disappears? You know to be with your band when you do stuff?,” the one that you believed to be Natasha asked before forking a piece of chicken in her mouth.

“Well I sure hope so or else we have something to talk about,” you nudge Clint and he nudges right back. On the outside, it seemed like you two were that evil, vampire couple that lived in an all black, old fashioned, tall, Victorian style home with a sphynx cat. While the house and cat part was accurate, you were just a normal married couple that lived life with a little stardom.

Pietro would never get tired of your voice, he always repeated that to himself but hearing your voice in person, he never thought it would be possible. You were radiant, aura calming and bright. The tattoos that decorated your skin looked even cooler in person, eyes twinkling even brighter, you were so tall and he loved it. 

You could stomp him out and he’d still say thank you-

“Pietro!,” Wanda slapped him upside his head harder this time, “Stop being weird,”

He cursed himself for saying that out loud. Your presence was just so intoxicating and hypnotizing in the best way possible. He always got nervous around attractive women. 

“You’re just so cute,” you lean forward on the table and just shake your head at him and point to your band’s crew neck that he was wearing, “What’s your favorite song?,”

Pietro felt his mouth go dry. You were talking to him, he had to play it cool, he couldn’t embarrass himself in front of you anymore. He felt his hands get clammy and he felt his eyes burning, he was really about to cry happy tears because you were talking to him.

“All of them,” he croaks

You give a gentle giggle and nod, “If you had to choose one.. what would it be?,”

You found it adorable how still he sat with his eyes wide like a deer in headlights. He licked his lips and moved his jaw up and down as his words got lost.

“I uh... uhm.. i..,”

“It’s okay, take your time,” you encouraged.

Pietro took a deep breath and calmed himself down, “I’d probably choose.. Natural Born Sinner... c-ca- because it’s raw and I like the statement. It’s always the first on my playlist. I just love your voice,” 

You grinned at how he talked as if you were a dream come true. You’ve met plenty of fans over the years but he was the cutest. So pure, so... ruinable. 

“Good choice,” 

Clint chuckled and shook his head at you, you were really something else. You couldn’t be tamed so like the lioness you were, he let you roam and trample what your willing prey.

Dinner went on and much of the conversation consisted of where you’d be performing, who your bandmates were, what your favorite clothing brand was because you definitely inspired Wanda to change her wardrobe. Tony made a mental note to listen to your band. Peter and Bucky wanted to meet your other mate, Sam and Natasha made sure they’d have to look up the price of your tickets because you just seemed so cool and genuine they had to support you. 

All while Pietro had an erection and was thinking of many things to make it go away.

Those sad puppy commercials, washing dishes with wet food, stubbing your pinky toe, ripping a hangnail, a cat hacking up a furball... Y/N has a cat... her name is Obsidian.. Y/N’s eyes are like black obsidian, Y/N is here right now.. .I bet she’d look so good above me... Just look at the way she’s looking at me now.. oh shit she’s looking at me!!

Pietro snapped back into reality and realized his erection had gone away just to come back when you winked at him. He shouldn’t like that- your husband is sitting right there...

“If you guys would like to come see us live one day, I can definitely make that happen,” you lean into Clint and he rubs your arm while everyone looks at you as if you were Oprah saying  “You get a ticket! you get a ticket! everyone gets a ticket!!,”

“Please?!,”

---------

“You made him so nervous,” Clint leaned back in his seat while driving.

“That wasn’t a look of nervousness, babe. I definitely made him horny. I know that look,” 

You’ve seen many give you that look in your life. You made them so nervous they couldn’t help but be turned on and they always begged for you to give it to them.

You heard Pietro’s pleas for sure. 

“I want that one... for sure,” 

The drive back to your house consisted of talks about how you both would work around this arrangement. Clint was totally fine with it, he wasn’t the jealous type plus he knew at the end of the day you were his wife. He knew you loved it when he took control and while he changed your life, your dominant side itched to come out and now it finally does, as long as Pietro is 1000% sure. You were presented with the best of both worlds as a switch and now you were so close to holding the two in your grasp.

“You’re acting like he’s a puppy or a new toy,”

He might as well be... please daddy I promise I’ll be nice,” you tease and beg like a child.

“I’ll see what I can do, sweet pea,”

---------

Today was the day, you were all packed and ready to go, but you and Clint had to make one pit stop before heading to Dusk and Luna’s house where the tour bus would meet you.

You had your braid up in a knot and sunglasses on, leather jacket spiked, skirt short and boots tall. You looked irresistible.

“Clint.. Y/N- waddaya doing here?,” Steve asked when he sees you two get off the elevator. 

“Where’s the nervous one?,” you question, wanting to get straight to the point. 

“Pietrooo!,” Clint called out and Pietro zoomed into the foyer and almost ripped when he saw you looking down at him.

“Y-you’re back,” already a stuttering mess he was.

“Yeah, got any plans over the next few months besides fanboying over me?,” you pop your gum and Piet could have busted a nut right then and there with the way your eyebrow coked up over the rim of your glasses. 

“J-just missions,”

“Great. I pardon you. So waddaya say you come with tour with me?,”

Pietro’s ears began ringing. There’s no way he just heard you correctly, right? Oh but he did hear you right. 

“You’re joking?,” 

“Do I look like I’m joking?,”

No, not you do not look like you’re joking and he doesn’t know how to handle it. Clint is just standing there, smug as ever.

“I’d... hell yeah I’d love to,”

You smile how how much thicker his accent had gotten from the excitement but you just nod and turn on your heels, 

“You have fifteen minutes to be in the lobby before we head out,”

God you looked so good walking away. Clint pushed him in the direction of his room, “Get a move on. We’re on a time schedule,”

--------

Even two months into traveling with you and Clint it still doesn’t seen real that he’s here. Experiencing you perform live was so surreal he couldn’t help but go into his hotel room or bunk and blow one after every show you all had. 

Luna knew he had a crush on you and she always teased him for it

“You better hold Clint doesn’t find out. He’s gonna kill you,” 

She didn’t mean it seriously. She just liked to see him flustered. It was adorable to hear him stutter and try to lie saying he doesn’t see you that way, he’s just a friend of Clint’s who admires the band. 

“Luna leave him alone. If Clint definitely knows... that’s why he’s here,” Dusk adjusts her ear piece backstage before it’s show time. The team would be here to see this one so he’d have to go out soon to meet them and take them to the front to the VIP rows.

“What’s that supposed to mean?,” He was always confused and could never read between the lines. You have given subliminal hints the entire starting from the night you met him but he still hasn’t gotten it. 

Tonight would change that.

“Piet, they’re here. Head out front now,” Clint peeked his head out from your dressing room and noticed the way his pants were unbutton and his hair was a mess. God, he wishes that was him. 

It was no secret that before performance sex was a common ritual with you two, one time he heard it and had to go to the bathroom to situate himself.

“Pietro! you hear me?,”

“Uh,” he snaps back to the present and nods his head feverishly, “Yeah, yeah,”

He rushed to meet everyone. Wanda clearly took a page from your book and used you as inspiration for her outfit. Everyone else looked kind of normal, save for Bucky who hard dark liner around his eyes and was wearing one of your band tees with the sleeves cut off, black pants and boots. He fit in with the crowd perfectly and didn’t give a damn if Sam made fun of him for it, he knew he looked good and Pietro had to admit such a truth.

“I’m so excited!,” Wanda spray dyed her hair black and had it in cute pigtails so as she jumped up and down the pigtails moved back and forth. She wore a cropped band tee with a skirt that was decorated with chains and a pair of ripped tights and a pair of tall platform boots, much like yours.

“You think if I crowd surf people are gonna keep me afloat?,”

“Tony, I think it’d be in everyone’s best interest if you don’t crowd surf,” Natasha shook her head and laughed as they followed Pietro into the arena.

“Well why not?,”

“Because I want to crowd surf. This crowd isn’t big enough for the both of us,”

“Oh but it is,” 

They went back and forth about who should be the one to get to crowd surf as if the arena wasn’t big enough for the both of them.

“I’m gonna head back, I’ll be back before the show starts,” 

Pietro books it backstage and sits in Luna’s dressing room knowing he would hear you and Clint perfectly. 

He could hear the slapping of your skin and the little whimpers you tried to hold back. God you sounded delicious. If only that were him making you feel good, or at least if only he got to sit in there and watch you get fucked before you went out on stage ans used all that good energy and put your all into your show like you always do.

“Right there, right there,”

He loved to hear you beg but he really just want you to make him beg. He wants to be the one making you feel good. He wants you to use him for your own pleasure. His wants were insatiable when it came to you. He you to want him, wanted you to make him your little play toy. But he was too nervous to do admit that.

He had confidence with the girls his age, but those girls are not you. You’re a woman, a goddess, so it made sense that you made him feel so small and he loved it.

“That’s my girl, cum for me,”

If only Pietro could jerk off right now, so he sufficed with palming himself through his jeans. He couldn’t make noise or else the jig would be up. 

“Yes, yes, yes!,”

You sounded so breathless. He imagined how good you looked with your legs spread open on the table, breasts bouncing, mouth hung open because every sensitive spot his being hit. 

On the other side of the wall, Clint’s mouth was suckling on your nipples hungrily, growling every time you clenched around him. Your hands ran through his hair and you felt yourself about to cum all over again. 

“You feel so good, baby,” you kissed his cheek as you cum around him. He fills you to the hilt before cumming deep inside of you. 

While the act of fucking before a show would tire anyone else out, it always gave you more energy and made you feel like you could run a marathon.

Pietro on the other hand was pleading to himself for you guys to not be done already. He needed to hear more, he needed more. 

“No, no. nooo,” he whispered to himself.

“10 minutes til show time!,”

Pietro heard your manager yell down the hall. 

“Fuck” he sighed. He was so defeated and knew he wouldn’t be able to get there right now. So he thought horrible things to make his dick go down before heading out to the team to wait for you guys to come out on the stage and get everyone riled up.

“You look flushed,” Sam points at his face, “You okay,”

“Dandy,”

They all talked and waited around while time dwindled down before the show began. His nerves were getting the best of him and he wasn’t sure why. All he had to do was stand here and enjoy your music. Which he always did but tonight just felt different.

*Listen to Sexual Hallucination by In this Moment*

The smoke started to fill the stage and the Luna began playing on the keyboard and synth. Everyone immediately got quiet and payed attention,”

“Red lips, a sinister toongue,” 

The way you breathe, the way you whispered into the mic had Pietro whining. He just wanted one taste of you, just one taste and he would be fine. 

“(I'll taste you until I can't),”

No one expected Clint to come out on stage, so just imagined how their jaws dropped when his voice flooded through the speakers and and he slowly walked onto the stage.

“Our trip has just begun (I'll fly with you til the end) Psychotic voice (You are in my veins now) And there's no denying (There's no denying) As we both burst into flames”

It didn’t take long for everyone to begin singing along.

The way you had your back up against Clint’s chest and moved your hips to the flow of the song had Pietro’s mouth watering and this was only the first song of the damn set. How was he gonna make it through the set? How was he gonna make it through another four months?

“You watch me come undone (It makes me want you more) I'm crawling into the unknown (I'll follow you to the core) I feel like I'm dying (I'm right beside you) You whisper, "we're flying" (There's no denying) We both converge as one”

Pietro couldn’t even sing along, he could only stand there and enjoy the sight of you. You noticed him though. Often times throughout the song you’d make eye contact with him and you could see his eyes flutter. 

Tonight he made the decision that he couldn’t keep these yearnings to himself anymore, he had to say something. 

Tonight you made the decision to turn him out. You couldn’t take him being oblivious anymore.

You wanted him and he needed you.

--------

Bucky found himself in a mosh pit and got a bloody nose, Steve and Bruce took their shirts off and threw it on stage, Natasha and Tony both got their turns to crowd surf. Sam met a pretty little lady and went somewhere with her, Wanda lost her voice from screaming along with you and her eyeliner smudged. But Pietro was just standing there thinking about how he could tell you he wants to sleep with you without Clint beating his ass.

“We can’t thank you all enough for coming out tonight and supporting us and having fun,”

It was the end and you were sweating bullets, pacing the stage and talking to the crowd before it was time to leave.

“We can’t thank you all enough for making the dreams of three black women come true. Especially in a white male dominated genre. Had you told us when we were four. five years old that we’d be famous, we probably wouldn’t believe you because it seemed so impossible but here we are.. and it seems so surreal,”

You smiled at the screams from the crowd while Dusk and Luna said their piece and you all waved to the crowd before heading backstage where your crew and manager all congratulated you on another smooth show.

“Babe, that was amaziing!!,” Clint lifted you into the air and twirled you around before you wrapped your legs around his waist and kisses him. He hugged you tight despite you being sweaty and gross.

“Thank you! You did great out there. I bet they’re gonna ask for more collaborations with us,”

“And that’s something I’d be willing to do,” 

Striking the stage took forever and packing up took even longer. The ride back to the hotel wasn’t that bad though and his team members met you all there where you all cleaned up and relaxed.

“They didn’t have music like that when I was growing up. It was so invigorating!,” Steve talked like a kid who just met their favorite superhero. 

“I gotta ask-,’ Tony pipes up

“Uh oh”, “Oh no”, “Maybe you shouldn’t” was heard all around the room and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Shoot,”

“It’s not that bad,” He rolled his eyes, “What’s the significance behind your band name? and why the change?,”

The question was valid, you’re surprised no one asked you the question sooner. 

“Hex Girls was like the baby and babies grow,” Luna smiled as she scooted closer to Bucky. She’d had her eyes on him for a while now and he seemed to be feeding into it, “It’s like Pokemon evolution. You start off small and cute until you evolve into something bigger and more badass with a larger impact,”

Tony nods in understand but looks as if he has more to ask, “What does Call of the Void mean though?

You take a sip of your wine and think of a way to explain it to him. 

“You know how when you’re on top of a building and just feel like jumping but without any protective gear? You know how sometimes you’re driving and just feeling swerving into the other lane? or when you’re blending something and feel like putting your hand in the blender to see what would happen even though you already know how it would end?,”

“Yeah.. but I don’t do that,” 

“Exactly,” you nod, “It comes from the french phrase ‘l’appel du vide’ which translates to call of the void,” 

Everyone else is still looking as if they don’t understand so Dusk takes it upon herself to explain further.

“Call of the Void is where you have self-destructive thoughts even though you’d never actually do them. It’s a sort of miscommunication in the brain. It’s really your brain kind of sending a warning signal like ‘be careful’ and it makes you take a step back or snap back into reality so you take notice of your surroundings,”

You point at her as a way to confirm her statement, “Now call of the void can be classified as suicidal thoughts but it’s honestly a phenomenon. People who experience this phenomenon aren’t necessarily suicidal rather, the experience of high place phenomenon may reflect their sensitivity to internal cues and actually affirm their will to live,”

You hear ouuu’s and aaahhh’s around the room before a clap of hands. 

“Okay well we got an early flight to catch so I say it’s about time we turn in for the night,” Steve says to everyone.

They all agree and say goodnight while leaving and you notice Luna and Bucky leaving together and going to her room. You shake your head at the two until you see Pietro get up

“Where do you think you’re going?,” you ask.

He turned around and noticed how beautiful you look with a bare face and your hair tied up in a wild bundle of colorful braids.

“I- I was..”

“Sit down and stay a while. We have a lot to talk about,” you pat the spot beside you and laugh at the way he takes slow steps towards you and sits down.

“Is everything okay?,” 

“You seemed really tense tonight,” 

Clint sat back and rubbed your legs that stretched across his lap.

“Did you not enjoy the show?,”

“N-no I did-,”

“I mean the other show, Piet,”

His breath hitches and his eyes get buggy. He knew exactly what you were talking about and he wondered how the hell you knew!

“I didn’t mean to-,”

You skin felt so good on his when your fingers ran down his cheek while shushing him.

“We wanted you to hear. Don’t be shy. I know you’ve been getting frustrated,” You sat up straight and scooted closer, “You had to have known why I invited you on tour with us... or are you just that oblivious?,”

“I’m just that oblivious,” he whispered.

Your hands ran through his hair and and tugged at the roots causing him to let out a breathy moan. He sounded beautiful.

“Clint, baby. Give us some space, will ya?,”

He grunted as a yes and kissed you before leaving for the bedroom, “Don’t worry, man. You have my blessing,”

That made Pietro calm down instantly. Once you heard the bedroom door shut, you straddled Pietro’s lap and ran your hands all over his body. 

“I like it when you look at me like you need me,” you nip on his earlobe and he lets out an unintentional whine which went straight to your core. You loved it when they sounded helpless.

“Because I do?,”

You pouted a small smile and gripped his cheeks in your hand, “You think you can take it?,” 

His breath shuttered and he blinked really fast, trying to comprehend that you were really sitting in his lap

“No but... I need you. I’ve been wanting you for so long I just-,”

He was taken aback when you kissed him with such force it knocked the wind out of him. Your tongue pushed its way into his mouth and he was kissing you as if it was his last and only chance to do so. His hands landed on your thick thighs and he rutted up into you.

“I want you to lie back on this couch and eat my pussy while I sit on the pretty face. You hear me?,”

“Yes ma’am,” 

You stood up and pushed him down on the couch. You undressed yourself in a rush and climbed over top of his face. He was ready, mouth already open, tongue resting on his lip.

“Be a good toy and eat it,” You pulled him by his hair and he buried his tongue deep inside you, working you, handing kneading your ass while he made sure not to disappoint you.

“Fuck, that’s good. Yeah, give me more,”

Damn you tasted so good. He basked in your flavor. This is what he wanted, you smothering him in your pussy, chasing your high.

His slurping could be heard through the living room but he didn’t care. The sight of you above him, tugging at the metal bars that pierced your pretty brown nipples had his dick leaking precum. 

“That’s iiit. Make me cum,” you directed.

You thrust yourself into his mouth and hold his head there as you finally cum, “Take my sum like a good boy,” 

He happily slurped up every drop, he’d never been with anyone who got this wet. Strings of your cum on your pussy connected to his lips and he greedily licked them up.

“Take your dick out,” 

You stood up and got on your knees in front of the couch and made him sit up. Your mouth felt perfect on his mouth. You were like a sex goddess and he was having a hard time containing himself. You got so sloppy your spit was dripping down his balls. You gagged unapologetically and rolled his sac in your hand. 

“Fuck, fuck, you’re so good. That feels so good!,”

He braced himself against the couch and tried not to buck his hips up but his legs were shaking like crazy. 

You used your dripping spit as lubrication and swirled it around his pink puckered hole. This had him shook, but he didn’t know shook until  you pushed your finger in and his a spot in him that he didn’t even know he had.

“Oh.. God!,”

Your mouth didn’t let up and your finger was thrusting in him at a pace he couldn’t comprehend. His legs were hiked up he felt like a little bitch but that was fine because it was you making him the little bitch, this is what he wanted.

“I’m gonna cum,” His eyes were in the back of his head and his body trembled when you pulled away from him. You pulled your finger out of him and removed your mouth.

“You’re gonna fuck me until you can’t think straight, now. You hear me?,”

“Please. That’s all I want,”

He was so needy and responsive, you made a good choice picking this one.

You lied back on the couch with your legs wide open,rubbing your clit. He admired your pussy. You weren’t completely shaven but it wasn’t wild either, your pink clit stuck out from under it’s good, and your brown lips called out for him. 

“Get moving, Piet,”

“Yes, Ma’am,”

He aligned himself at your entrance and prayed he would prematurely bust. When he pushed in he whimpered to the point tears came to his eyes. 

You felt so good it was unreal. You loved with way his slim cock felt inside of you, was a different sensation from Clint’s thick uncut cock. 

“Make me cum then you can get yours, baby,”

He braced himself on the arm of the couch and went wild. Your legs up on his shoulders and encouraging and praising him. He felt invincible. He was fucking a rock star, better yet, the rock star he’d been fanboying over for so long. 

He made sure to hit deep, knowing that’s how you like it from hearing you with Clint.

You pulled him down for a kiss and bit his bottom lip, making him groan in your mouth, “You’re doing so good fucking me like this, I’m so close,” 

He loved being at your disposal. He lost it when you started fucking him back and clawing at his shoulders. His momentum picked up because he was so close. His hips became a blur as the skin slapping filled the room.

“Yes, yes, yeeess! Make me cum,” you pushed him back and rode him into the sunset. He could barely catch his breath as he felt your pussy hug him in tighter while you began cumming. He’d never been with a women who could squirt, so you could imagine the hungry look on his face when it started happening, all because of him. He bucked his hips up harder to make you squirt harder and he felt his balls twitch with an impending orgasm.

“I’m gonna cum, can I cum? Please let me cum,”

You sat up off of him and used your hand to get him there. He was a squirming, mewling mess, and turned red when white ropes of cum shot up into the air and landed on his stomach. He covered his face and you giggled, knowing he just blew the biggest load he’s ever blown.

“Good boy,” You trail kisses on his chest and lick up the mess he made of himself. You shush him and massage his body until he’s calm and breathing evenly. He kept thanking you over and over.

“I reckon it went well?,”

Clint comes back with snacks and smiles a the post sex mess you two are. 

“Yeah... I definitely plan on keeping him,”

~~~~~~~~~

THIS. IS. MY. LONGEST. FIC. YET?! HOLY COW!!

It feels nice to finally get a fic out after not being able to for the past month. So here’s my treat to y’all. Thank you for being so understanding, lovely and patient. I love you all so much!

PLEASE COMMENT AND REBLOG!

Tags- @blackreaders-assemble @vozit @yournonlocalpoc @babybubastis @mbaku-babygirl @dumbchick @marvclheaux @noire-griot @warmchick @m00nlightdelights @retroxvailles @spideys-wife @xye-weirdo @micki-smiles @veryhellshdia @never-enough-time-for-sleep @here-for-your-bullshit @valynsia @valkyriesnymph @honeynmlk @chonisberonica @valentinevirgo @mokacoconut @crawlingnightmares

[argentdandelion]

Do It For Mettaton

CLICK CLACK.

Dark. Wet. Muddy. Alphys looked on with a frown. This is why I don’t like Waterfall.

"A-and....why a-aren't you bringing your n-normal crew?" Alphys asked.

“Snails are very skittish,” Mettaton replied. "You do know how to make yourself non-threatening: your lack of confidence is actually great for capturing their natural behavior on film.”

CLICK CLACK.

The echoes of Mettaton’s wheels over the stony floor bounced off the rock walls of the hallway.

Dark, wet, muddy...and full of echoes. Undyne’s the only worthwhile thing in this rock-mire. Alphys thought. Maybe I’ll meet her...

Alphys shook her head. No fantasies about Undyne. Mettaton’s moving too fast.

"H-have you even charged for this trip?"

"I'm not going to be doing much. Just a quiet documentary."

They walked quietly through the halls lit by faux stars.

“Didn’t you mention some other ghost that lived in Waterfall...Nappa something?”

Mettaton said nothing.

----

CLICK CLACK. CLICK CLACK.

Has it gotten even worse on wood?

“M-Mettaton? I-I don’t think it’s a good idea...the br-bridge i-isn’t built to handle s-someone so heavy as y-you....”

Mettaton turned around on the middle of the bridge. “Darling—”

Snap.

“Mettaton!” "AAAAAAH!"

And he was gone. Gone, into the darkness...and then Alphys heard a splurch.

Thank God. It’s just mud.

----

Alphys carefully climbed down the last few meters of the rock face, silently appreciating how it wasn’t too steep or slick with rain. Shetrudged through the thick mud towards the center of the canyon, and, finally, Mettaton came into view.

His face was buried in mud, and his body laid in the shadow of the broken bridge. A few splinters of wood were still scattered on his backside.

“Mettaton? Are you alright?”

"Alphys, do help me. I've fallen and I can't get up." All the mud muffled Mettaton’s voice, and Alphys leaned closer.

"I...I don't think I can lift you like that...c-can't you push yourself off the ground?"

"I doubt it.”

Mettaton’s noodly arms stretched out as he propped them by his sides. He rose one inch, then two inches, as his body creaked and whirred from the strain...only to fall into the mud once again.

Alphys flinched from the alarming beep-beep of Mettaton’s body: the low-power noise.

"I suspected as much. I don't have enough battery power to do something so...intensive."

“How about your rocket pro—”

“Darling, if I can’t even lift myself off the ground, I sure can’t fly.”

Alphys stood over him in ever-growing, awkward silence. Alphys’ cheek bulge, and she looked to the side.

“C-can't you...l-leave your body?”

“No!”

The pause went on for too long.

“...not...so close to where people could recognize me and connect the dots.”

Alphys gripped the sides of Mettaton's boxy body and tried to lift it. The metal weighed down on her hands as she struggled, and her face reddened from the effort.

"I c-can't do it, Mettaton,” Alphys said, panting. “You're.. j-just too h-heavy."

"Possible. Other possibility: you're physically weak." He said, pointing up a finger as he laid face-down in the mud.

"In any case, Alphys....I'm sure you can find another solution."

Alphys paced for two more minutes.

I could call Undyne, she thought.

Undyne majestically jumping down with no helmet and picking up Mettaton like he was nothing, Undyne smiling at Alphys with a confident “You called?”...

Alphys shook her head. No! I'm not dressed right...I'm all muddy. And...she probably has something more important to do. She's probably doing patrols now. Alphys thought. And...it wouldn't matter anyway. She'd probably wear her full armor and be businesslike and scary while on the job. Why did I imagine it otherwise?

Alphys paced some more.

I got it. Electricity magic. That should charge him up, and give him the strength to lift himself.

Alphys opened her mouth.

...but I can't.

Alphys looked at Mettaton’s unglamorous, face-down body. Does...does he even know about my magic production impairment?...I...

He doesn't need to know. I'll just pretend to think of some other ideas for a while.

"I-it's r-really difficult, b-but if you give me a few minutes I-I'll find some way to help."

Mettaton said nothing.

----

What can I do to get afraid on command?

Alphys looked down at her claws. That one memory...

“Hey, Alphys! What are you doing in Waterfall?” Undyne said within her memory.

“Uh...uh...” Alphys felt a drop of sweat trickling from her scales, and the tingle of static in her hands. The water went above her ankles. Undyne was only a few feet away...

“I...um..w-was g-going to v-visit...” Water conducted electricity. Humans hunted fish with electricity. Undyne was so, so close...

Ah! Alphys thought, gesturing triumphantly and smiling in the direction of a nondescript wall. Revealing my feelings to Undyne! And definitely not the fear of accidentally electrocuting her!

DATING START

In the center of her imagination, Alphys stood in the middle of a grey room with black walls: the perfect quiet, private place. And she was...

Why am I a human in a headband in this fantasy?...um, I'll just roll with it.

Undyne stood in front of her, smiling. "Hi, Alphys. You wanna talk?"

"I, I...uh...gotta wash my toaster! Bye!" The lid to the trapdoor that had suddenly appeared slid back, and Alphys jumped backwards into the hole.

Gotta wash my toaster? Alphys’s face twitched incredulously. What? Well, at least I don't have to reveal my feelings to—no! I gotta get scared!

FANTASY FILE RELOADED

"Hi, Alphys. You wanna talk?"

"I WANT SOME HOT FISH!" Alphys yelled into Undyne's face, blowing her hair back with the force of her passion.

Undyne blinked as her hair settled down. "...you're...into seafood?"

"hECK yEAH YUM YUM!"

Alphys's face scrunched up. Oh God did I actually fantasize a human version of myself saying that to an imagined version of Undyne as part of a contrived situation to rescue Mettaton from a pile of mud?!

FANTASY FILE RELOADED

Again, in this room of her imagination, fantasy-Alphys stood in front of fantasy-Undyne.

"Hi, Alphys. You wanna—"

“Hey, Undyne. You one hot, hot babee.”

Undyne stared at her awkwardly, teeth exposed, eyes wide.

RELOAD!

No. No! I won't be the coward this time! Alphys clenched her fists and looked forward into the middle distance with utter determination. No, yes! Be the coward! Get scared!

Undyne stared, and paused. She shrugged. “Well, I’m glad you reciprocate. I also think you’re a hot lizard. And not simply because of the heat you’ve absorbed from your magmatic home on my slimy, clammy body.”

Undyne bent down and picked Alphys up. That’s weird, Alphys thought. Because human-me is actually bigger than—focus!

Undyne held Alphys tenderly as Alphys’ legs dangled. And Alphys’ tail definitely didn’t hang awkwardly, as her fantasy self was a human and humans lacked tails.

She's...surprisingly good at hugging! Alphys observed. In my fantasy! Despite being a bony fish-beanpole!

But nothing happened.

I'm hugging Undyne now! Very scary! Alphys insisted, trying to turn up the realism. Yeah! Turn up the vivid feel of her non-burly arms! And her non-thick and non-furry body! It’s terrifyingly inadequate!

Electricity built up within Alphys’ body. She looked back towards Mettaton, silent and damp in the deep mud...but only a few sparks twitched from her scales.

NO! NOT SCARED ENOUGH! Mettaton needs me!

----

Bang!

In the doorway stood the King of All Monsters, in full armor, who stared at the hugging couple with a resolute expression.

"What." Alphys said out loud.

Asgore’s long blond hair streamed majestically out from his face, caught in a breeze..that came from nowhere. His burly body made for a commanding presence as he entered the room, his eyes locked on Alphys.

“I have noticed you have become bold, Dr. Alphys.” He said in that sultry deep voice.

“Y-y-yes. R-r-eally, r-r-really bold.”

"It's inspired me." said Asgore, his hair still streaming.

"It's inspired me...to reveal my feelings to Undyne."

"...what." Alphys and Fantasy-Alphys said simultaneously.

"Your strength...so much like my own. Our furry fish children shall fresh hope to the kingdom!"

"Oh. Oh my."

"But enough talk. Let us...SMOOCH."

Asgore's lips and Undyne's lips distended from their faces like snails emerging from their shells. The lips inched ever closer...

More sparks built up within Alphys' body, through her arms, through her hands...

"...wait."

"Is Undyne even into men? And didn’t Asgore train her to fight...?" Alphys muttered. In her head, Fantasy-Undyne and Fantasy-Asgore looked at her and politely waited.

“ALLLLPHHHYYS.....” Mettaton called out weakly, his voice distorting from lack of power.

Do it for Mettaton!

LIP CONTACT SUCCESSFUL!

Alphys scurried to Mettaton and held her hands to his body. Electricity danced off her fingers and into Mettaton’s boxy body.

Alphys grit her teeth. Come on, come on...

Mettaton said nothing. Alphys glanced over him, over his noodle-arms and switch and wheel...but there was no effect. No sign that her efforts were accomplishing anything at all. Is it working? I don’t know! Why didn’t I install a meter?!

Undyne looked passionately at Alphys, eyes half-lidded, as she conveniently overlooked her prejudice for humans and the fact fantasy-Alphys happened to be human.

Alphys stared back in non-electric shock. She gulped and looked to the side....was that fully-garnished table of French food and a now-shirtless king always there? Alphys looked back at Undyne. She was still staring back at her, now waggling her...eyebrows?

Consumed in her fantasy, Alphys took no notice of the sparks that multiplied from her hands.

On that very...cozy table was a seafood dish. With three ingredients. Now Undyne was across from her, waggling her eyebrows so intensely she feared they could catch fire.

And she was wearing a beret.

Alphys took no notice of the faint whir of Mettaton’s machinery.

Undyne leaned in close over that impractically small table and whispered to Alphys:

“Have you ever heard of a...melange a trois?”

The entire canyon lit up with lightning.

----

MTT STARTUP COMPLETE.

Mettaton pushed himself up from the ground and wobbled on his single wheel.

“Mettaton!”

Alphys embraced his uncomfortable metal edges. Mettaton awkwardly patted her back, before extricating himself from her embrace and churning through the mud.

Then he paused.

"100%. Strange....” he said. “How did you manage to charge me, Alphys?”

Alphys blushed. ‘I-i-it’s nothing important.”

  ---

Author’s Notes: There, my promised crackfic, starring a contrived scenario that only happens in fanfiction and just happens to justify absurdities.

If you want actual Alphys x Undyne, try Alphys Reviews Slayers IV. For more crackfic, see Ghost Code. For an article somewhat related to this, try "The Perils of Hybrid Fanchildren". (The author's Patreon and Ko-fi links are also on the ArgentDandelion blog sidebar.)

Feel free to tell the author what you think, and be sure to appreciate the author's other works. (Please don't make this crackfic disproportionately popular.)

[crue-sixx]

The Lost Crown

Title: The Lost Crown

Fandom: The Dirt

Summary: The reader has no idea who her family is-having grown up in the system and aged out without having been adopted.  It's not until her 19th birthday that a stranger comes claiming that she's a descendant of the royal family of a now democratic country and the rightful ruler.

Warnings: Swearing, reader being a princess.

18+ readers

All your life, you were a mystery even to yourself.  You had a nickname that you went by "Tootsie" you were very fond of it.  You grew up in the foster care system, you trying your best to be adopted, but people took one look at you and passed you by.  When you were younger, you tried to understand why nobody wanted you.  But as you reached the teenage years, you saw a new reason-you were too old.  People wanted cute babies and little kids, not teenagers that looked as if puberty had beaten them with an ugly stick.

You were walking home from school at the age of 17 when you first met Nikki Sixx.  The neighborhood bullies were hurling rocks at you and calling you the foulest of names.  You did your best to ignore them, clutching your emerald ring on a chain for comfort.  You had it since before you could remember, the thing nothing more than a bauble to others, but to you it was a lifeline.

This particular day, one of the rocks thrown at you hit you in the back of the head, causing you to fall.  The bullies surrounded you like sharks smelling blood.  They got in a few kicks when you heard someone else say "Get off 'er assholes!" then the sound of heavy metal hitting someones skull.  The others scattered, not wanting a beat down like their friend had gotten.  Your knight in dirty leather bent down and helped you up 'You alright?"

"Yeah" you spat out some blood from your nose "Not the worst beating I've taken" you wiped the remaining blood with your sleeve.  "I'm Tootsie" you introduced yourself.

"That's your name?" he raised an eyebrow, but let it go "I'm Fra-" he cleared his throat "Nikki.  Nikki Sixx" he said quickly.

"You sure about that?" you teased.

"I just got a legal name change last week" he explained and you left it at that, sensing that he didn't want to talk about it.  "Where you live?  I'll walk you home" he started walking with you.

"Warm Hearts" you said in a low tone.

"The foster home?" he asked. 

"Yeah" you said sarcastically "The place where people who don't want their kids put them to forget about them..."

"Sorry" he put his hands up in defense.

You sighed "No, I'm sorry.  I shouldn't be so sensitive about it..." You soon got the the steps of the Home and he looked at you expectantly.  "What?"

"I need a little back scratch, you helping you earlier" you rolled your eyes.

"What do you want?" you expected him to demand a blow job but you were surprised when all he wanted was a kiss.  You obliged, but only with a little peck on the cheek.

"That's all?" he whined in a playful tone.

"I'm only seventeen" you reminded him "If you want a piece of this" you slapped your ass in jest "You gotta wait till I'm legal and put in a little more of an effort" you teased back.

From that day on, he walked you to and from school, just to make sure nobody messed with you.  All the way through your graduation and eventual eviction from the Home.  A few weeks went by when he asked "Hey Toots, when IS your birthday?"

You looked down ashamed "I don't know..." you bought your knees into your chest "I don't even have a birth certificate..."

"Then pick a day and we'll celebrate then!" he laughed, not being bothered in the slightest.

This brightened your mood as you thought about it "March 17" you nodded matter of fact.

"St. Patrick's Day?" he smiled "So you wanna get extra hammered?"

You grinned at him "Yes!  Yes I do!" in agreement

"And I'm gonna tap that ass all night long!" .

"You've earned a good romp, I believe" you lifted up your skirt a little bit, to flash a bit of inner thigh.  He audibly gulped and began to sweat, his leather pants barely containing his growing erection.  You bit your lip, you never knowing just how big he was down there.  You however were a woman of your word and would wait until your birthday that you chose.

A month of couch surfing with Nikki went by when a rather gentlemanly person came up to you and asked "Excuse me Miss, but would your name be..." he looked at his paper and frowned "Tootsie?"

You raised an eyebrow "How's askin'?"

"I am Reginald Usher, a diplomat for the country of Elingard" you were even more confused now, you never having heard of the place before.

"What's that have to do with me?" Nikki came out to have a smoke and saw the spiffy man dressed to the nines talking to you. 

"Something wrong babe?" he put his arm around you, like he did when other dudes got too close to you.  He hadn't even asked you out yet and he was acting like your boyfriend.

The gentleman cleared his throat and continued "There is a democratic unrest back in Elingard, and I need you to come with me to settle things..."

Nikki was getting pissed now, you could tell by the way he tightened his grip on you "She's not going anywhere..."

Reginald scoffed and said "This doesn't concern YOU, boy" he reached into his coat and pulled out a few documents. He turned back to you and said "Your real name is Y/N L/N and you are the Queen of Elingard" he handed you the documents to look over, Nikki at your shoulder.

You didn't believe it for one minute and threw his papers back at him.  "You've got the wrong Queen dude,  I'm a nobody-I don't exist" you and Nikki turned to go back inside.

"Do you ever wonder where you obtained that emerald ring around your neck?"

You stopped and gently touched the very item he was talking about.  He continued "I gave that to you on the day of your birth nineteen years ago...you are my niece, Y/N" his voice didn't change, but you turned to see his eyes water.

"I want a DNA test" you told him "If I am who you say I am, I want proof" you went inside Nikki right behind you.  You needed to be alone to process this, to try and remember who you were.  Nikki wouldn't let you be though, and you didn't try to stop him.  He just held you until the both of you fell asleep.

The next day, Reginald came back with the DNA test and it was a positive match.  "You are my sister's child.  She married Prince (Father's Name) and had four children.  Then the day you were born, there was a coup.  I absconded with you and took you to America, left you in the care of Warm Hearts to raise you and told them not to let anyone adopt you until I came back..."

"If all that's true..." you started, feeling the anger rise up inside you "Why not take the throne for yourself when you had the chance?"

"I was imprisoned until recently, just gaining my freedom a month ago" he took your hand with a gentle warm grasp "Please Y/N" he brushed his palm against your face "Take the throne and save our country..."

You removed his hand from your body before Nikki did it more forcefully "Tell me more about our family first..."

"Your mother (Mother's Name) was beautiful yet fierce.Your father (Father's Name) was very tactical.  The coup was from the inside, a force from the military managed a hostile take over.  You were just born, not yet bathed of your birth blood when they came in and shot your father.  Your mother took up arms and told me to take you with me to someplace safe, that you were to be named Y/N and to never look back.  I bought you here and was arrested upon my return, where I was informed of the massacre your family had suffered" a few silent tears rolled down his cheek.

"I'll go" you told him "only if I can bring Nikki and our friends with me..." your friends, being his new rock band he had formed.  You had a bad feeling about this dude, Nikki having caught on as well.

Reginald looked at Nikki with contempt, and Nikki returned the gesture.  Reginald relented and accepted your terms after you gave the explanation "They're gonna be my security.  I trust them with my life" you touched Nikki's hand and he laced his fingers in yours.

When you got to Elingard, you were given a complete make-over.  They put you in a dress in the royal colors of pale yellow and sky blue, complete with a crown.  Your emerald ring now on your gloved hand.  You gazed on the portrait of your family in your salon, they all looked just like you.  Your eldest brother Julian, your eldest sister Josephine and your elder brother Oliver and your elder sister  Alexandria.  You looked at them, but felt no connection to them.

A knock at the door later, you snapped out of your trance and said "Who is it?"

"It's us" Nikki answered, to which you ran across the room and opened the door.  They all looked so uncomfortable in those stuffy suits but a moment of silence came over them as they saw your royal garb for the first time.

You blushed and said "S-stop staring...I'm just as uncomfortable as you are in this damn corset..." you tugged at the blasted thing constricting your ribs.

"You just look so beautiful..." Nikki let out a ragged breath.  Tommy, Vince and Mick all rolling their eyes at him.  They all knew he had the hots for you, but he didn't have the balls to say anything.   They even contemplated asking you out themselves just to make Nikki jealous, but that was quickly squashed when the news about you being a queen arose.  They didn't trust Reginald either, so they all kept close tabs on you.

"My coronation ceremony is in a few minutes" you said nervously "stay close to me..." You lead the way to the church where you were to be officially crowned, but the atmosphere around you seemed tense, like the calm before the storm.  Your men made a circle around you, feeling the room as well.  A messenger tapped Mick on the shoulder and whispered something in his ear.  His eyes widened and he dragged you behind him.

"Mick?  What's up?" you asked quietly.

"It's an ambush!" he shouted, the others getting in front of you "That man isn't Reginald Usher!  He's Fredrick Nash!  The very man who lead the coup!" you glared at the man who claimed to be your uncle, who was now laughing.

"So clever" he applauded "I needed you here to kill you, end the line for good in front of all those people your family wronged!  You royals gave nothing, but took everything!  You will pay for your family's deeds!" he pulled out a pistol and took a shot at you, Nikki instinctively diving over you to protect you.  

You shrieked, worrying that one of your men was hit.  The onlookers pulled them away from you, only you and Nash left standing  "It was always your destiny to die by my hand, Y/N L/N.  Follow your family to the depths of Hell!" he cocked his gun but the thing jammed.

In the scuffle, the corset had ripped thus allowing for freedom of movement.  You kneed him in the balls, he doubled over in pain as you stomped his hand with your heel.  "My name is Tootsie" you ground your heels into his hand, drawing blood "and I make my own destiny" you tossed the crown to the floor, the thing clattering.  "Take it.  It's yours.  This country means nothing to me..."

They were all in stunned silence when you said "Let's go home, boys" you tore off the dress and they followed you, glancing back to make sure that the crowd wouldn't be any more trouble.  They knew better than to try to talk to you on the plane home, even Nikki keeping his distance.  You had even thrown off your emerald ring on your way out.

You enter the apartment you all shared and flopped down on the couch, Nikki giving the other guys a look that said he wanted some alone time with you.  They got the hint and vacated the unit, and he sat down next to you "Why'd you do that?"

"What?" you asked back.

"Give up the throne" he motioned to the filthy apartment "for this?"

"Because, dummy" you turned to him "those royals may have been my biological family, but blood isn't what makes a real family worth while.  I never knew them, but when I met you...it was like someone finally wanted to be there for me" you felt his hand on your face and began kissing you.  You let out a low groan of desire and asked "What the fuck took so long Sixx?"

"I wanted to be sure you felt the same" he lifted you up onto his lap and continued kissing you, him taking off your shirt and moving your bra over to expose a nipple.  He teased it with glee and you laced your fingers in his hair and roughly pulled.  He gasped and looked at you with lust in his eyes.

"Ravage me" you ordered "Your Queen commands it" you kissed the corners of his mouth and down his neck.

He flipped you over and answered "So my Queen commands it" he pulled his dick out of his pants and rubbed it against your thighs "so shall it be.." he pulled your panties to the side and entered you in one strong thrust.

You let out a surprised yelp, but soon adjusted to him.  He had you riding him, him sitting up and supporting your back.  Both of your faces were flushed with desire, the sound of your squelching wetness prompted him to say the dirtiest things to you "You're soaking wet for me, baby...you really wanted my dick all this time, didn't you?"

You reciprocated with "You're so hard for me...always have been...from the first time I flashed you a thigh...don't think those pants hid anything from me..." you began to ride him harder, your breasts jiggling of their own accord.  He moaned loudly and let his head fall back.

"That's it baby..." he grunted "keep riding that giant cock just like that...Jesus Fucking Christ your pussy feels so good..." you felt yourself clenching and releasing him as you rode him, your hot breath blowing on each other's skin.

"I'm almost there, Nikki" you breathed into his clavicle "rub my clit..."

He did as he was told, you feeling his thumb circle your bud of nerves sent you over the cliff as a new wave of heat passed through you and sent you crashing into that zone.  Toots...fuck I'm about to..." you quickly dismounted and took him in your mouth, him pushing your head down so his cock exploded in the very back of your throat.  You gagged on him a few seconds before he released you, you having swallowed what you could and spat what you couldn't.

You climbed back up next to him and cuddled into his frame, twirling his hair around your finger.  "Why did we wait so long to do that?" you contemplated.

"Dunno" he replied. "But it was worth the wait..."

You nodded in agreement and yawned, the experience taking a toll on you.  "Wanna go to bed?"

"Yeah baby" he picked you up bridal style and laid you on the bed next to him.

[reddreadmarstons]

Jack Marston x f!reader: Cleaning up nicely. Word count ~2000

Prompt 38: "Only in front of you do I want to look this cool always." (Note: This prompts wording is awkward, and "cool" was not used as slang in the early 20th century from what I understand, so I am changing it to " Only for you do I want to look this good.")

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You got him. After a bloody battle with his men, you chased this bastard in to the caves of Nekoti Rock, and tackled him to the ground. As you were hogtying him and preparing to pick him up, you hear a voice behind you.

“ Well, shit, ya beat me to him.”

You were used to men trying to steal your bounties from you, so without thinking, you turn around and pull your revolver on him. “Unless you want to be tied up too, I suggest you get the fuck away from me!”

“Woah, miss!”,  He chuckled nervously, putting his hands up, “ as fun as that sounds, I ain't gonna take him from you, you got him fair and square!” Although a bit scared, Jack also couldn't help being attracted by the combination of your beauty and your boldness.

As you calmed down, you noticed that it was Jack Marston, the son of the famous John Marston. He had a reputation for trying to be a stoic, tough guy, but you saw him for the first time acting nervous and making jokes. It was cute, in a way.

“Sorry, Mr. Marston,” you sighed in relief, “I'm so used to having men try to take from me, that it's my first response.”

“Don't I know it,” he nods. He is not surprised that she knows who he is, given the legacy his family left behind, "and you can call me Jack. You're like my ma was, a woman living in a mans world. My pa taught me to admire that sort of fearlessness in a woman.”

You blushed and looked away, “ W-Well, I mean, your pa was a smart man. I sure can look after myself, with no man to protect me.”

“Oh, I doubt don’t it,” he responds, with a wink and a smile. He was not normally so confident around women, but being held at gunpoint made him feel like he had nothing to lose, and he could feel some chemistry between the two of you after that. You were flustered yourself, for once. You usually had your guard up, but something about Jack made you feel safe.

“Oh, get a room!” The bounty shouts, agitated that he’s been caught and is still lying there.

Jack responds by kicking him in the head. “Hey, I'm talking to the lady here!”, which causes you to giggle. “Well, I ain't much of a lady, but I appreciate the sentiment. Now come on, I gotta get this son of a bitch to Blackwater jail”.

As you were putting the guy on your horse, you fell over as you heard a loud growl, and the horses ran away in fear. You were caught off guard when you saw a large grizzly running towards you.

“Miss!” Jack shouted, and without a second thought, dived in front of you to protect you. Quickly, he pulled out his buffalo rifle and killed it with a single shot to the head. You both breathed heavily, holding each other tight in panic over what had just happened. “You okay Miss?”

“Yeah...I'm okay. Thank you.” The two of you break apart, and Jack takes your hand and lifts you up. He looks down at the ground, somberly. “If only Pa could see me now,” he sighs. You put your hand on his shoulder and smile, “I'm sure he would be proud….” then switching to teasing, “although I'm sorry to say, you couldn't tell him you killed the legendary Umas, because I got him first.”

“Show off,” he smirks, gently nudging your shoulder, “come on, let's get out of here, I’ll ride with you to Blackwater.” Jack picks up the bounty, who is still cursing them out, while you retrieve the horses. He puts the bounty on the back of your horse and the two of you ride to Blackwater in silence, ignoring the angry man that's hogtied behind you.

The two of you arrive at Blackwater jail, and the marshal gives you $400. You give $200 to Jack.

“here,” you offer, putting the money in his hand, “I think you earned this for saving my life”.

“Well, it was my pleasure, Miss, uh...”

“ Y/N”, you reply, “ call me ‘Y/N’”

“Well, Y/N”, he smiles, “how ‘bout I buy us a drink to celebrate?” You laugh at his offer, “you mean with the money I gave you?”

“So is that a yes?” Jack jokingly asks, putting his arm out for you to take. You roll your eyes, link your arm with his, and walk over to the saloon together. “Maybe just one or two drinks”, you answer. You were both dirty, and you were covered in blood, but at that point neither of your particularly cared. However, you knew that it rarely stops at one or two, and next thing you know you've both had five shots of whiskey.

A couple of hours go by, and you are just loving this man’s company. He tells you stories about his adventures with his pa, with bounty hunting, about his time in a gang when he was a boy. You wonder if he would have told you any of this were he not drunk, but damm, was he interesting. You tell him stories about your own life, your own experiences, what made you decide to become a bounty hunter.

“Well, damn,” he says with a lustful look in his eyes, “you're a hell of a woman, y/n."

That look he gave you was just too much for you. Without even thinking, you cup his face in your hands and kiss his lips with intense passion. He jumps back, surprised at first, then closes his eyes and eagerly kisses you back, resting his hands on your shoulders. You pull apart for a second, look at each other with fire in your eyes.

“Well then,” Jack chuckles. You jump into his lap, and wrap your arms around his neck, leaning in for another deep kiss. It was so passionate, fiery, and just amazing. It was how you always wanted to be kissed. You feel him getting hard against you. He pulls away from you and leans his forehead against yours. “How about we go somewhere more private?” You nod, and he scoops you up and carries you to his room upstairs. You are already wet from anticipation.

When you get upstairs, he throws you on the bed and undresses you slowly, leaving kisses all over you as he makes it lower down your body.  After taking off his clothes, he turns you on your stomach and gives you a sharp smack on the ass, causing you to yelp. You were not prepared for that.

“That was for pointing a gun at me!" he scolds, giving you another smack. “Now, I'm going to take charge.”

“Only because I'm letting you, Mr. Marston.” you sass back, and arch your back so he can fuck you from behind. You decided to let your guard down and do what he wants with you, for once, you let a man be in charge. Again, only because you let him.

He grabs your hips and enters you from the back. He thrusts back and forth roughly for a few minutes, which you had no idea you would enjoy so much. “Fuck,” you whine, “I'm close’.

Jack suddenly pulls out, turns you on your back, and renters you from the front.

“I want to see you cum,” he taunts. You claw his hands into his back and start to scream. “FUCK”. He covers your mouth while continuing to fuck you. “Ya want everyone to hear us?” You continue to scream with his hand muffled over your mouth as you feel your orgasm wash over you. You feel at peace as he remains inside you. “my turn…” he whispers in your ear. You kiss him deeply, and then he pulls out and cums all over the bed, moaning quietly as he does it. You lay next to each other, both on your backs, sweating.

“well, ain't that something” you laugh, as you snuggle up into his chest.

“I guess so,” he replies with a content smile on his face. “that was the most fun I've had in some time.” He wraps his arm around you, pecks you on the lips, and drifts off to sleep. You kiss his cheek and fall asleep soon after.

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You both wake up the next morning, still wrapped around each other. You only remember parts of what happened after you started drinking, and he doesn't remember much of anything. That was okay, though. You both felt calm and safe. Jack admittedly was a little confused at first, but you just laughed to yourself.

“It looks like we had quite a night, didn't we, Jack?” you tease.

Jack was blushing, somewhat embarrassed. “yeah...uh, I guess we did.” He surprised himself. It was not the first time he woke up next to a woman after a night of drinking, but it was the first time that he had no regrets, and actually wanted to see the woman again.

You rest his head on his chest and snuggle in closer. “listen, whether you remember what happened last night or not, I hope it is isn't the last time we see each other, because I really do like you.” You chose to be upfront about your feelings, because you did not want him to think you were not interested after he potentially remembered nothing.

Jack was shocked. He couldn't believe this. He gave into his feelings and held her tight, “I think...I think I want to see you again too. But can I take you out for dinner and a movie next time, you know, like a gentleman?”

You laugh and smile, “Yes, I would love that. A real date with Jack Marston. Ain't I a lucky girl.” He smiles back and you give each other a quick kiss.

The two of you get dressed, and have breakfast downstairs. He then rides with you back to your cabin at Manzanita Post. “Tomorrow at 6 pm? I'll come and pick you up.”

“It would be your pleasure” you tease.

“See you then, madam.” He kisses your hand and rides off on his horse.

You were both so nervous, even though you neither of you were likely to admit it. You knew you did not need a man, and you did not have to be pretty for anyone, but you wanted this man, and you wanted to be pretty for him. You took a bath, styled your hair, put on some lipstick, and a silk green dress. You rarely wore dresses these days, as they weren’t practical for bounty hunting. People would tell you that you would never find a husband when you dress and act the way you do, but you did not give a shit, because you lived for adventure before you lived for some idea of what your life should be. Still, there was something about Jack that made you want to try looking like a lady, if only for him.

On the other side, Jack had stopped caring about his appearance after all of the shit he went through. He knew though that he was going on an actual date, and for the first time in a while, felt that he needed to dress to impress. He went to Blackwater to get a haircut and a shave. He put on an elegant suit that his father used to own. He always felt lucky when wearing it, like he could cheat at poker and not get caught.

At 5:30 pm, he got on his horse and rode off to Manzanita Post to pick up his date. You came outside and he was stunned by how well you cleaned up. You were beautiful before, but he was so flattered that you put in this much effort for him. Likewise, you couldn't believe how handsome he was when he took care of his appearance. You held each others hands, and looked into each others eyes.

“Wow,” he took a deep breath, “you're so beautiful.” You can't help but blush.

“Only for you do I look this good,” you chuckle. “ Don’t let that get to your head, though. From the way it looks, I'd say you put in all this effort just for me too.

“You're right about that, Miss Y/N” he smiles, lifts up your chin and gently kisses your lips. “Oh, is it okay for me to kiss you before the date starts?”

You roll your eyes and gently nudge his arm. “I didn't know there were rules for this kind of thing, Marston”. You both laugh, as he took your hand and helped you climb onto his horse. You loved how he was so rough in the bedroom, yet such a sweetheart otherwise. You wrap your arms around his waist tightly and lean your head on his shoulder as you ride into Blackwater for the evening.  

[cowboy-canoodler]

A High Note of Love: Part 8

(prepare for angst and violence in part 9 my dudes, (Y/N) has had a cushy way so far. Until now. ;) )

Master list: http://cowboy-canoodler.tumblr.com/post/183094165570/a-high-note-of-love-master-list

The sky seemed clearer now, birdsong more beautiful, the water vividly clear, a place to call home, friends, and Arthur. You were walking back hand in hand with your new lover, Arthur Morgan,a more handsome man you’d never seen, his hand was tight within your grasp; on the walk back to camp you shared giggles, the smile hadn’t left your faces since you told him you’d accept Hosea’s invite into the gang, you prodded and poked into each other, chiding chuckles and laughs from happy lips.

“Are you sure you wanna join? It’s not an easy life (Y/N)” Arthur was concerned with your decision, for he knew more than anyone what you could lose from this life, the fear of losing you like he’d lost Mary, Elizabeth and Isaac, other gang members he’d been close to; the fear of losing you now would almost consume him.

“Arthur, I would do anything to be around you and you’re family, save maybe Micah” Another snicker between the two of you as you wrapped your arms around each others waists. This was the perfect end to this day and you had never felt happier.

The walk to camp was short and brisk you and Arthur chortling and taunting each other with small jokes and smiles. As the tents came into view you could see gang members gathered around the main table, Hosea, Micah, Bill, and Lenny all there talking, arguing, debating? Who knew, but voices were raised well above over each other.

“What’s going on?” You questioned, grabbing Arthurs hand from your waist, giving it a small squeeze.

“Prob’ly a lead to a job, the usual” Arthur had said this so nonchalantly with naught but a shrug of his shoulders, but of course this life was second nature to him. Stealing and pillaging, these must be things you agree with to be part of the gang.

“Arthur! (Y/N)! Come over here for a second, help us sort this out!” Hosea shouted over at you, prompting you and Arthur to walk over to the scene of the argument. On the table lay a map of New Austin, the cross roads near Emerald Ranch circled with different crosses and movements written then scribbled out. “Which way should we attack a stagecoach coming through here?” Hosea pointed towards the map, this then cued the men to argue over which way they should attack the coach, Micah and Bill insisting on a frontal assault, Lenny, and Hosea arguing an ambush. Arthurs hand abandoned yours and proceeded to try and calm them down, the ambush being his favoured choice. This went on for a couple of minutes, and in this time you took it upon yourself to look at the map, studying the roads and landscape, ‘6 Guards’, ‘at least $3000′ and other crossed out words littered the map.

“I wouldn’t go with either” You muttered, silencing the group, who all stopped and looked at you.

“What the fuck would you know about a stage robbery, prissy?” Bill puffed his chest out and took a step towards you, but you didn’t retreat and instead stood your ground.

“What the fuck would you know about thinking, Bill?“ Bill didn’t like this, he took another step forward and raised his hand to you, but you stared him down, “You need a distraction to take out the guards, an ambush won’t work they’ll be expecting it, so sit your ass down and let the adults do the thinking, you lump of oats” The group emerged in raucous laughter and Bill huffed, his hand lowering and brows crumpling together with clenched jaw.

“Well then, missy” Micah piped up at last, you could see a bruise forming on his jaw from where you had hit him earlier, “seein’ as you and Arthur are fuckin’ now, how would you do it?” Murmurs of agreement, and a dagger of looks from Arthur shot towards Micah. You pointed at a rock on the map.

“Have someone hide here, a woman will be more believable, dishevelled and dirty, the coach will stop and pay attention to her, especially if shes in high class clothing. She creates a distraction, you guys circle around, quietly, take out the guards stealthily and then shoot the rest. Bingo!” You clasped your hands together with an audible clap and brought your face up to meet the gangs eyes who were focused on you, some mouths slightly agape others nodding in agreement.

“That’ll work” Hosea agreed with you, Arthur, and Lenny concurring in agreement.

“I still say an ambush! What does she know? She ain’t one of u-” Bill shouted, visibly distressed at the thought of you winning the rest of them over.

“Actually she is” Arthur interrupted, “(Y/N) is joining the gang” he encircled his arm around your shoulders in a protective manner, shielding you from them.

“That’s wonderful!” Hosea clapped his hands together, a smile wide on his face, a blush rise slightly to your cheeks at his warm welcome. Lenny and Arthur were also smiling at you, but Bill and Micah shared ‘a look’.

“well if shes in The Gang-” Bill started.

“-She just volunteered” Micah finished the sentence, a wicked smile on his face.

“She doesn’t have to if she doesn’t want to” Hosea interjected, but you raised a hand to shush him.

“I’ll do it.”

“(Y/N) It’s fine they’re jerkin’ to get a reaction from ya” So kind was Arthur to keep you from harms way, but you wanted to prove yourself to the gang, and this was the opportunity.

“I know that, but I’m still going to do it!” You had your resolve, the other members agreed to let you act this role, despite Arthurs protests. An hour later and the plan was all worked out, the horses fed and saddled, your dress covered in mud and your hair in a messy up do, thanks to Miss Grimshaw’s excellent hair care. You sauntered over to Arthur,who was checking the guns on his horse, in your newly ‘distressed woman’ attire and threw your arms out wide, putting on the best American accent you could muster.

“Well, partner, how do I look?” Smile plastered over your face, but Arthur only returned a look of apprehension, “What?”

“You look great, your accent is great but (Y/N) are ya sure you wanna do this? You could get in danger, or hurt. I only just got ya I don-”

“Hey hey hey” you hushed him and placed a hand on his cheek, “I’ll be fine, we’ll do this job, I’ll head back to Saint Denis, pick up my things and then we’re good to go Arthur, I promise” Arthurs baby blue eyes stared into yours and he leaned into your hand, his guard dropping ever so slightly as his hand came to yours delicately pulling it off of his cheek and toward his lips; he planted a soft loving kiss on your palm.

“Alright get yer shit and get goin’ come on!” Bill shouted as he mounted his horse, the others laughing and starting the ride to the ambush site, you were riding with Arthur, sat in front with his arms resting at your sides as he held the reins.

A natural feeling came from riding out with the gang members like this, you belonged here, all the hurt you had previously suffered and the pain you went through to get to America and away from your family had paid off. This is who you were meant to become. A con-woman extraordinaire. Although that may have been taking it a little far. The ride to the ambush site was quiet, you rode in two groups to avoid attention, Bill and Micah Ahead, Lenny alone, and you and Arthur behind them, hardly anyone passed, and if they did there was no more than a sideways glance.

“This is the place” Arthur stopped his horse and checked his pocket watch, “Coach’ll be here soon” You slipped off the horse, and walked over to the rock, although you were a born performer, you were nervous beyond belief. If this somehow went wrong, it would be your fault and this would prove you’d be no more than a hindrance to the Gang. This had to go right. 

“Yes, thank you Arthur” You looked over to him, Arthur was still concerned for you, his brows furrowed and jaw clenched. “I’ll be fine Arthur” you then swapped to your American accent, “I’m supposed to perform, now go on, Git!” You waved your arms around dramatically and Arthur bucked his horse, riding steadily towards the others, who were hiding somewhere around but you could’t tell.

Even though it had been merely minutes, it felt like hours, nervous twitches in your body, your eyes darting around the roads to look for the stagecoach, head jolting at every noise. Your palms were clammy and beads of sweat rolling down your back until you finally heard it, the sounds of the stage coach, you peaked out from the rock and caught it in your eye line, there were 6 guards, and two more on the stagecoach, a couple of deep breaths and you calmed down, waiting for just the right moment until-

“PLEASE! Can someone help me please!?” You ran out from behind the rock, bewildered and crazy, your arms flailing around to catch their attention, and catch their attention you did. “Sirs! Please!” You ran up to the stagecoach as they looked at you with both suspicion and unease.

“What’s wrong lady?” The one in the drivers seat replied, turning all attention fully to you, this was the clincher.

“Please! Mah husband! He was captured! They killed him, I managed to escape. Please! You’ve gotta help me I don’t want them to find me!” Tears welled in your eyes as you grabbed onto the driver, hysterical sobs erupted from you and the air changed immediately.

“Hey its alright now, what’s your name?” The driver let his guard down and released the reins, bending down to place a hand on your shoulder.

“It- Its Marjorie. Marjorie Roberts” You sobbed enthusiastically, all of the men had their attention on you and you were killing this role. As they offered you a ride home you heard the sound of a gun shot, only 3 guards remained plus the drivers.

“What the fuck?” The driver shot up and you bolted to the rock staying down while the men dealt with the rest, flurries of gunfire and men yelling. Just as soon as it started it had finished, you peeked your head out and saw all the men making sure the guards were dead.

“Did it work?” You asked innocently, standing up and admiring the view of an empty stagecoach littered with dead bodies.

“Yeah, we’re all good” Arthur beckoned you towards him and you obliged, a little jog in your step as you had never felt more alive. “You did great darlin”

“Why thank ya darlin’“ a smile tugged your lips and an arm wrapped around Arthur’s waist, Lenny, Bill, and Micah worked on getting the money from the lockbox inside the coach.

“Well look-ee here, this must be closer to seven thousand!” Micah and Bill guffawed at the money as they started splitting it, Bill handed you your share, “Here”

“What?”

“This is your money! Take it godammit!” You took the money and looked over at Arthur who returned a smile.

“You earned it (Y/N), you did a hell of a good job” Lenny grinned at you as he pocketed his money.

“I hate to say it, but the Kid’s right” A surprising turn as Micah had given you a compliment.

“Woah hold on there Micah, people might think you care” You laughed and held your hands up.

“Eat shit, come on we should go” A collective whistle from each person but you and horses came into view from behind the trees, “meet back at camp”. You mounted Arthurs horse, shortly after so did Arthur, and a quick gallop took you away from the crime. Adrenaline still shot through your veins as Arthur pulled the horse to an abrupt halt, many miles away from the robbery.

“Okay we should be alright here” Arthur looked around to make sure no one was following you but you didn’t care, a grin was wide on your face, the rush of it all still within you.

“That was- thrilling!” You let out a shrill laughter and dismounted Arthurs horse pacing backwards and forwards, a way to just let out the energy your body was pumping into you.

“You did real good, I’m proud of ya!” Arthur dismounted, and any worry that had previously been on his face was replaced with smiles, an enveloping hug and he swung you around planting kisses on your cheeks as you giggled into each other.

“Oh my goodness, I can’t believe it! We did that! WE did that!” More giggles and kisses, and as the energy burnt down as quick as it came you stood there breathless and encased in Arthurs arms, your head buried within his chest. By now the sun had set, an evening robbery and a night of success.

“What do you say we go and grab my belongings now? I want to get back to the gang as soon as possible”

“Well if that’s what you want, I’m not gonna stop yo-”

“I could buy myself a gun and some new clothes” Excitement filled your veins once more as you shot out suggestions for uses of the money, Arthur just nodded along with each of them. you were both so enraptured by the atmosphere you couldn’t hear the hooves and footsteps of incoming persons.

“Well well, if it ain’t Van Der Lindes lap dop” an Irish voice bellowed from the nearby woods as the men made them selves known as horses rounded around you and Arthur, at least 13 men all with their guns pointed at the two of you.

“What in the hell do you want O’Driscolls?” Arthur had already reached for his pistol and pointed it at the one who was talking, his other arm pulling you in close to protect you.

“Us? Now why would we want anything boys?” They laughed around you and Arthur, the air was sour and any chance of escape seemed thin. Your eyes darted around looking for any slight opportunity to present it self to you.

“Well well, whats this?” An arm yanked you away from Arthur making you yelp out a shriek, which was quickly silenced with a foreign hand and a gun to your temple, “you wanna shut the fuck up miss or my finger might just slip” the gun was pressed harder to your head you stifled a muffled weep as tears swelled in your eyes.

“Get your hands off of her!” Arthur stepped forward and their guns followed him all cocked and ready to shoot at a moments notice.

“Wait wait” another man spoke up and dismounted, “I’ve seen her before” two brisk steps towards you and he grabbed your face and pulled his within an inch, studying your features, “ohoho your daddies got a bounty for you missy” your eyes widened as they darted around the attackers face, “Leave him, we’ll take her instead”

And in the blink of an eye, Arthur was knocked out on the floor cold, you hogtied on the back of a horse, and O’Driscolls talking about how ‘Her daddy wants her alive, but now how alive’ 

Fuck

[mikrowrites]

You Found Me (ii)

Tony Stark x Daughter!Reader

Summary: 5 years later, Y/N’s father goes missing during a weapons demonstration in Afghanistan; Tony fights to escape his captivity

Warnings: canon violence and gore, angst, tears galore, language, war themes

The explosion threw Tony back, rolling across the sandy Afghan terrain. He rolled on his back, his crisp white shirt beginning to soak with dark, red blood. He ripped the buttons open, his eyes widening as he laid his eyes upon the shrapnel that had pierced through his bulletproof vest. Tony laid his head back, his body going slack.

The last thought on his mind as the darkness consumed him was how he’d never hear Y/N’s laugh again.

————

18 hours earlier

————

“Now tighten that bolt... there.” Tony pointed, 8-year-old Y/N nodding and reaching into the car, tightening said bolt with a wrench. “Atta girl.”

Y/N smiled up at him, wiping her hands on an oily rag. The past 5 years had been the best of the girl’s life. She was with a parent who loved her and took care of her, took the time to braid her hair and go have “father-daughter” dates with her. People automatically assumed since Tony Stark was such a playboy and narcissist that he was an inattentive parent, but they couldn’t be more wrong.

Pepper came into the room, Tony ruffling Y/N’s hair and going up to his assistant while the child continued to tinker with the car.

Her father was hours late for a flight to Afghanistan, Y/N knew the CEO was holding off on going to the weapons demonstration, as much as he insisted he go. After a long (and tense) talk with Pepper, Tony walked up to Y/N.

“Hey, Bug.” He smiled, the girl grinning back. “I have to go to a meeting for a while with Uncle Rhodey. I promise I’ll be back to pick you up from school tomorrow. Ok?”

“Ok!” The girl threw her arms around her dad, Tony squeezing her back, a look of pure contempt on his face.

Y/N wished she had hugged him tighter.

————

5:30 PM

Malibu, California

————

Y/N sat on the floor, her project for school on the coffee table. She was furiously scribbling on it with her crayons, lifting it up in her little hands. “Grandpa Obi, what do you think?”

Obadiah Stane sat on the couch behind Y/N, going through paperwork while the TV played on a low hum. He looked up at the picture, taking it into his hands. “Wow, Y/N/N. This is fantastic!” He exclaimed, the little girl giggling bashfully. Obadiah had agreed to watch Y/N and take her to school while Tony was in Afghanistan.

Suddenly his phone ran, Obadiah’s face growing serious as he took the call. “Y/N, why don’t you stay here and work on your schoolwork?”

The girl muttered an “m’kay” as the man left the room with the phone pressed to his ear. Y/N turned back to her picture, humming to herself. She wondered when her father would call?

“Y/N...”

The little girl turned, smiling at her father’s mentor. “Yeah Grandpa Obi?”

The man’s face looked solemn, his face sunken. He grunted as he got down on his knees. He placed his hands on her shoulders, his voice barely a whisper.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. Your daddy isn’t coming home.”

Y/N looked at him confused. “What do you mean? He promised he’d be back.”

“Y/N, there was an accident where your daddy was working. He’s gone missing. We don’t know where he his.” Obadiah choked out, hugging the little girl. “I’m so sorry.”

“N-No!” She shouted, pushing him away and stepping back. “He said he’d come back! He promised! He promised!”

With that the little girl ran upstairs, flinging open the door to her room and collapsing on the bed, bursting into tears.

He promised her he wouldn’t leave like mama did.

————

Afghanistan

————

The two captives, Tony and Yinsen, sat playing dice. After being captured Tony had been taken there, into the mountains, but a band of murderers to build them the Jericho missile. He had “agreed” and had been working with his fellow captive to instead build a suit that would get him home. Home to Y/N.

“Good roll.” Yinsen muttered, picking up the dice.

“You still haven’t told me where you’re from.” Tony said, preparing some tea.

Yinsen continued with the game. “I’m from a small town. It’s actually a nice place.”

“Got a family?”

“Yes,” Yinsen seemed to raise his voice, “and I will see them when we leave here. And you Stark?”

Tony looked up at him with a ghost of a smile. “Yeah. My kid. She’s... everything. All I have left.”

Yinsen hummed to himself. “She sounds beautiful.” He arranged the dice. Tony give him a small half smirk.

————

Yinsen had begun helping Tony into the suit, having him repeat the directions out of the cave. When the two Hungarian guards triggered the bomb on the door, the two men began to hurry. Yinsen began uploading the power with Tony’s instructions.

The distant shouting of men came closer as Yinsen checked the status bar. “We need more time...” he mumbled, turning to Tony. “Hey. I’m going to go buy you some time.”

“Stick to the plan! Stick to the plan!!! YINSEN!” Tony shouted as the man ran off and picked up a gun, shooting randomly to scare away the incoming men.

Soon the power bar was completed, the room going dark. As soon as Tony had power over the suit, he began attacking the men, following where Yinsen had ran minutes earlier. Tony broke through a pair of Iron doors, approaching the mouth of the cave.

Tony let out a shout at the view of his friend propped up against grain bags, covered in dark red blood. “YINSEN!”

“Watch out!” Yinsen rasped, Tony narrowly dodging the projectile sent by the men’s leader. Tony sent a missile right back at him, burying the man in rocks. Tony rushed over to Yinsen, opening his mask.

“Stark,” he gasped out.

“C’mon, we gotta go. C’mon, we’ve got a plan, let’s stick to it.” Tony pleaded.

Yinsen weakly smiled. “This was always the plan, Stark.”

“C’mon we’re gonna go see your family, get up.”

“My family’s dead. I’m going to see them now, Stark. And you’ll get to see yours. It’s ok.” Yinsen reassured Tony, running out of breath. “I want this... I want this...”

Tony’s eyes filled with tears. “Thank you for saving me.”

“Don’t waste it... don’t waste your life...” Yinsen gasped out before he breathed his last, his eyes peacefully drifting closed.

Tony, fueled with anger, sat up, closing his mask.

They were going to pay.

After torching their camp, Tony attempted to fly away, only to have the thrusters fail. He was thrown several hundreds of feet away into the sand dunes, the suit rubble around him.

For hours Tony trudged across the sandy dunes, bleeding and sweating and fueled with ammbition. His desire to return home outweighed his aching body and his thirst for water. He had to back.

Soon a helicopter flew above him, the man overjoyed noticing it was a military copter. Tony threw his hands into the air, grinning and shouting and laughing wildly until it landed nearby. He feel to his knees, throwing up a peace sign.

Rhodey ran out with his fellow squadron, the man letting out a sigh of relief. “How was the “Fun-vee?’”

Tony smiled wide, grinning as his friend got down on his knees. “Next time you ride with me, okay?”

Rhodey pulled Tony into a one armed hug, the man collapsing against his chest.

“Now let’s get you home to your little girl.”

————

Lost and insecure,

You found me, you found me

Lying on the floor,

Surrounded, surrounded

Why’d you have to wait?

Where were you, where were you?

Just a little late,

You found me, you found me.

————

Tag list (htsal): @lovely-bree @isnow-0r-never @peterfromtheavengers @not-jk-rowling @meridele473 @midoriiyaiizuku @ayyidkeither @kit-kat-katie99 @trenzaloures @extrovertedantisocialunicorn @spacetor @the-ordinarylady @lizlil @natashacamillaus @spacequeenstuff @bluegirlusa1 @lilulo-12 @lovely-dreamer19 @jorileychan @ladyaragorn13 @marveltrashaddict @imabookworm31 @insultme-notmyfandoms @let-me-try-mom

Tag list: @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @peter-pan-hoe @theinsomniacsblog @ailynalonso15 @wasteddstardust @m4shtyx @stuckychild @tom-hollands-eyelash @bookgirlunicorn @bbypho @wearegoldeninthenight @nininstinct @multifandom-reallyamess

[peacefulwriter88]

Never Good Enough - Chapter 6

Sebastian Stan x PoC, Chris Evans x PoC

You randomly go on a blind date, set up by your friend Anthony, with Sebastian Stan. Due to the awkward interaction you are convinced that the date ends badly due to your cultural background.

When you run into him years later, can he re-win your heart?

Warnings: M for Mature (language, mild angst)

A/N: I swear if you keep up with this story things will look up for Sebastian. I swear it. But you know, you gotta have the angst. So there’s that, Anthony being an obnoxious big brother who gives the best advice and bubbly drunk Chris.

“Where are you headed?” Anthony’s voice shakes you as you look up from your phone, surprised to see your best friend earnestly standing in front of you versus being in his room. The was over with interviews for the first day, and Anthony typically coordinated a time to talk to his wife and children before he would escape in whatever city you were in, trying to find a few hours to explore the city in the form of dinner.

You didn’t want him to know what you were up to even though by the way he was smiling down at you, a knowing smirk on his face, you knew otherwise.

He knew exactly what you were up to.

“What do you mean? I’m just sitting here, catching up on some news via BuzzFeed…”

He rolls his eyes, taking the hotel lounge chair across from you as he watches you intentionally,

“Sebastian and I were thinking of grabbing dinner. He went to invite you but lo and behold you are down here. In the hotel lobby. He send you a text to meet you down here so you can both leave without me?”

You shrug nonchalantly, reverting your eyes back to your phone. Trying to ignore the smile that was fighting your way to your face. The idea of Sebastian trying to steal time that didn’t include Anthony thrilled you – you knew that Anthony had been an obnoxiously good job of interfering with interactions with the both of you for weeks now. You weren’t sure why and quite frankly had stopped trying to fight but it was complimenting that Sebastian wasn’t giving up.

Like you could deal with that right now. You were trying to figure out your other feelings. Your silent as you contemplate this, before you give into Anthony’s heavy gaze. Finally you huff out,

“What?!”

“You really not going to tell me?”

“Tell you what?”

“We’ve been on this press tour for what, like a month now. The whole time we go out you are rocking sweats or leggings or whatever but you aren’t leaving your room outside of work hours looking like that.”

He was referring to the tight jeans you were wearing, taking advantage of your company’s black card to make some purchases that you normally would talk yourself out of. Your jeans fit you perfectly and were paired with the black leather jacket that helped disguise the flowy blue top you were donning, the heels teeing off your look. You had curled your hair and thrown it in a high ponytail, adding some clips ons to give it some real volume. This was the most make up you had put on outside of premiers so you knew exactly what he was referring to.

You looked damn good.

At least, that is what Alicia told you when you facetimed earlier to double check the look. She was the only friend that you knew would pick up at this hour, California being hours behind London at the time.

But you weren’t going to tell Anthony that. No, instead you were going to play dumb until you couldn’t anymore.

“Maybe I wanted to….” You falter as he gives you that look and you groan, falling back in your seat.

“I don’t want you to make fun of me.”

“I won’t.”

“I don’t want you to tell me I told you so.”

He snorts,

“I can’t. I’m just surprised that you gave into Sebastian? And that he got your number. First Evans, now him?”

“Wait, what? Sebastian?”

Anthony quirks an eyebrow up.

“You’re not going out to dinner with him?”

“……no.”

Silence, then Anthony is chuckling, falling back in his seat.

“Damn. Evan’s moves quick.”

“Shut – it’s not like that!” your flustered as Anthony watches you amused.

“Uh huh. Sure it isn’t….”

More silence.

“You really are juggling two men’s heart right now? Remember how you’ve been on a slow go for months now and look – now you got TWO dudes after you.”

“That’s not whats happening! Sebastian doesn’t like me like that, never will. And I don’t know about Chris – we just want to go out for dinner tonight.”

“That’s not true at all.” Anthony counters and you fall back in your seat in defeat, looking at him.

“What do you know?”

“Well – two things. Chris demanded that I have to give him your number because he wanted to ask you if you he could treat you to dinner, alone. He made sure to reiterate that. That he was taking you alone. And then after that, Sebastian asked if I’d join him for dinner, but only because he wanted to ask you and he wasn’t sure you’d want to go out him alone. I mean, despite that text that I got from Tom made creeping on you and Chris, I still had my money on Sebastian and you spending the night out together...”

You blink at Anthony for a minutes before you ask,

“What creeper photo of me and Chris? What did Tom do?”

Anthony shrugs, digging in his pocket for his phone.

“Tom took this photo of you and Chris in the hallway and boy is it steamy. Shared it with me asking if this was thing. Wanna see?”

You nod, desperately shaking your head. Tom Holland, adorable little gentleman and unwanted paparazzi. You’d find a way to get back at him.

Anthony isn’t able to show you the photo, his attention is distracted, temporary losing his train of thought as he looks at the elevator.

“Oooo, guess you have to find out another time. Looks like your suitors are on their way over.”

You turn, following his gaze as you watch Chris and Sebastian walk out of the elevator. Both of them are wearing dark blue shirts, the material hugging around their biceps. Chris had opted for dress pants and Sebastian was donning jeans – both were advertising scruff that peppered their defined jawlines. You couldn’t tell which you liked more – the clean, put together look of Chris or the simple causal outfit that Sebastian wore.

You groaned. You were so fucked.

“You are soooo fucked….” Anthony sings lowly, repeating your thought out loud watching your reaction and you turn to him, leaning over enough to punch him in the chest.

“Ow! What was that for?”  

“You are not helping the situation right now.” You mutter as you lean back and turn, smiling at both of them. Telling yourself what you always did when you went on a date with a hot attractive man that, as Chris neared with his eyes finding yours with ease, you were realizing may be way out of your league. Which was absolutely nothing because you never went on dates with hot, attractive men. Basic men sure but not fucking movie stars.  

“God you’re right.” You moan under your breath and this causes Anthony to laugh, clutching his still sore side as Sebastian diverts his attention away from his phone, a large smile on his face. He’s stopped in front of you all along with Chris who is also watching in mild amusement and you feel like this is one, awkward fuck show as he asks,

“Hey Y/N! I was just looking for you – was going to ask if you wanted to join Mackie and I for dinner,” his eyebrow furrows, looking from Anthony to yourself to Chris, taking in the situation before he asks, “What’s so funny?”

You shoot Anthony a look before he stands up, shaking his head.

“it’s just how Y/N treats me when she knows I’m right. Doesn’t happen often but when it does its painful. Which is probably why I choose to be wrong.”

You roll your eyes, following his suite and standing. Missing the way both men look you over as you straighten yourself quickly and Anthony rolls his eyes. Regretting instantly suggesting you to join him on the press tour, knowing what the next few hours – months –  are going to be filled with.

“Let’s head out Seb. Chris already beat us to it – he invited Y/N out earlier so maybe next time.”

You don’t even have a chance to read Sebastian as he looks from you and Chris, watching him trying to figure out what was going on between you and his counterpart. Anthony is quick to drag him away, leaving you with the tall, handsome Boston native who is towering over you, giving you a bashful smile.

“You look very beautiful.” It’s a simple comment but its sincere and you try to disguise your blush as you give him a playful push.

“You look pretty handsome. But I guess that’s why you’re Captain America.”

He chuckles, shaking his head as he offers his arm.

“Shall we? I have a fun evening planned a head of us.”

You try to contain your shaking as you lace your arm in his and nod.

“We shall.”

You realize way too soon that you had taken Chris Evans for granted. You were sure that the night would have been filled with attending a stuffy restaurant, followed by a cheesy walk around the city and ending early at your hotel. For some reason, you were sure he was going to find out that you were really an insecure nerd who spent too much time reading up on historical facts, comics, failing on DIY projects while you read articles on the way to enhance your musical instruments. You could only put up the facade of sassy, strong and independent woman for so long – easy to slip behind the guise at work where you thrived the most – in a world where you put up barriers because it was the easiest way to protect yourself from disappointment.  

Instead he takes you to an English pub, deep in the heart of the city where he buys you the cheapest yet most delicious beer and bangers and mash, and you both end up chatting for far too long at the bar, teasing each other as you ingest the meal.

Its only when one of the regular’s hits on you, challenging you to a game of darts that you shift your scene.

“C’mon stranger. You want to tell me that you’re better than me and your cute guy friend at darts.”

“Yes!” you insist, standing up from your chair and grabbing your beer.  “And I bet you a round of beer that I am.”

Both men take the bait, following you to the dart board where, unsurprisingly, you lose. In fact, you get one bullseye and some tacky throws that don’t amount to anything that you immediately attest to the strong beer. However, both men find it amusing, your confidence spiraling with your bad throws and the strangers ends up buying you and Chris a round instead, telling stories about how the nworld was shifting for the worse so it was nice to make two nice friends and boy – didn’t Chris remind him of that Captain America fella?

The comment comes continually throughout the night and causes you to laugh and agree that he did look to familiar to the Captain America man much to Chris’ delight, who is becoming a slave to the alcohol and good company, getting louder with each story he retells as he throws a protective arm around your, ensuring to all the men in the place that you were accounted for.

It made you feel safe being tucked in his arms, his muscles swallowing you into safety. So you chid past you around 9:30, the part of you that set a alarm for 9:30 pm because you knew that you both had early mornings and wanted to be responsible. You didn’t want to leave the fun, the safety, the newness of being with someone like Chris in a foreign city but you can’t ignore the responsible adult in you, and you force Chris out of the bar, only after you give into his insistence that he would settle the tab.

“After all,” he says, smiling down at you with that adorable large grin on his face, “that is what gentleman do on first dates.”

The comments has you soaring, so much so that paired with alcohol, you almost eat shit the moment you leave the pub. Stilettos and old world cobblestone were not a solid combination, especially paired with two, strong beers.

You laugh as you almost fall, Chris easily catching you and drawing you to him, chuckling at your clumsiness and he shakes his head saying,

“You know if you just want to touch me, you can just ask. I’m not opposed at all.”

You give a mock gasp, smacking him before you giggle out,

“That’s not it at all! I may have just over-estimated my ability to walk in these heels tipsily but to be fair I didn’t think I’d be this tipsy tonight.”

You’re gripping him, giggling harder as you let the alcohol run loose in your veins. He smiles as he looks at you, helping you straighten out.

“You were doing a really good job up until you met cobblestone. So we can opt to do two things. We can choose to take a cab back to the hotel,” you nod somberly as he continues, “Or I can give you a piggy back ride and we can walk around a bit, being super touristy to help sober you up a bit. Fresh air might be nice.”

You’re sure he can feel your heart increase at the idea of getting a piggy back ride from him. It was every girls dream.

“I choose the piggy back ride for $400 Alex.”

He laughs as he stands in front of you, squatting before he says over his shoulder,

“Just jump on and I’ll take it from here.”

You know the small moan you make is heard by him, can tell by the way he chuckles as you easily climb onto his back as he says,

“Something you’d like to share?”

“Nope, not while I’m on you like this.”

He laughs, standing up and your surprised at how high your lifted, giving a playful glee as your arms tighten around him. His hand bites into the sides of your thighs, hands meeting flesh, muscle and fat and starts moving with ease.

“You’re really cute when you play the shy game.” He comments after a while.

“I’m not being shy.” You admonish, resting your chin on his shoulder and you could hear the low rumble of a laugh start. You give him a squeeze with your thighs and he laughs as you say,

“I’m not!”

“Ok you’re not. Shy’s usually my number when I’m around a really attractive woman. Except with you…with you it’s different.”

“Why is it different?” The beer has you feeling more bold, unafraid to respond as you ingest his compliment about you. You can feel his muscles flex as he shrugs,

“I don’t know. You make me feel comfortable. You have this energy about you that’s contagious. You act confident, strong, sure of yourself. Not afraid to be honest – to say what it is. It’s refreshing to be around…not a lot of people built that way anymore. Too afraid to listen and say what you think.”

“Ah,” you answer, finding comfort around him. “Anthony likes to call it my bubble of arrogance.”

Chris laughs, shaking his head.

“I think Anthony doesn’t like that you challenge him and are right when you are. You’re not arrogant. You don’t say things without thinking through your words I feel. At least, from what you’ve allowed me to see.”

You bite your lip, debating it.

“I’m pretty prideful, competitive, stubborn but you haven’t brought out that side of me yet but overall I just try to be….I don’t know…I try to be a good human.”

Another nod,

“All we can try to be is a good human at the end of the day. And hey I’m equally prideful and competitive and stubborn. You should see me around football season – I can be unbearable.”

You laugh as he continues,

“Also, I don’t think you realize how much shit you give me. You’ve got me all dazed out, especially after your earlier little tease.”

His voice is lower, and you can feel your cheek heating up as you groan.

“Oh, yea about that…” you instinctively try to hide yourself in his shoulder, shielding yourself from him like he could see you in your current position. He stops at a light, adjusting your weight before he squeezes your thighs.

“I liked it. Like it when you’re a tease.” He whispers back, and you can’t help but smile before he asks, his voice a tone lighter,

“What I really would like to see are those mad piano skills you were bragging about earlier. You can’t claim that you remixed Benny and the Jets and not think I was not going to forget that. That’s a karaoke classic.”

You laugh as you tighten your hold around him, your mouth inching closer to his ear,

“Find me a piano and I’ll prove you wrong.”

He opts to walk around with you for thirty more minutes, your weight an afterthought as you both continue your conversation. By the time you make it to the hotel, remembering that there was a piano in the hotel bar, he knows he’s in trouble.

In trouble because he was attracted to you.

It wasn’t the allurement of your body anymore. No, that was the generic layer that had intrigued him, drew him in. It was you.

You were different. Your honesty was alarming, your ability to express your opinion without reservation intrigued him. You provided a different perspective, a lens he knew he would never know because of the privilege of being a white male. But you challenged him on social topics, provided a different way to view the world with the perspective you hold. How that stemmed insecurity at times but also a sense of spontaneity – taking chances and being comfortable voicing yourself because you were inevitably always going to be judged being who you were. Might as well do it being honest to yourself and others.

He liked your kindness, how you were intentional to get to know the people at the bar. How you asked him questions to understand him better, questions that weren’t laced with fake sincerity. Your humbleness and humor that you hid behind laughter, pushing it away like it didn’t matter.

You were genuine with him, was aware of who he was – his celebratory – but was unphased by what that meant for his character.

He liked you. And the realization of that, the prospect, terrified him.

“You going to continue to stand there looking like a deer in headlights or are you going to join me over here?”

Your voice snaps him out of his thoughts and his eyes shift to you, smiling as he takes a seat next to you on the piano beach. He’s overwhelmed by your perfume; the vanilla scent overpowering the small space and can’t help but lean into you as your hands dance over the keys with ease.

“So not sure if this is the right crowd to impress with a Japanese pop remix of Benny and the Jets,” your eyes flicker over to the small crowd of older professionals and he chuckles as you look back at him, “but I think I can come up with a pretty good jazz rendition.”

He feigns like he’s thinking really hard on the prospect and you nudge him as he laughs, shaking his head.

“Sounds great – really, any version you come up with.”

You smile as you stop your idle playing, looking at the keys for a minute before you place your fingers on the keys, starting to play off the recognizable tune from the talented Brit and he nods his head along to it. And then the melodies switch, differing from what his ear had been trained to expect, shifting in a way that was earthier – lighter. He watches you with awe as your hands move quicker, getting lost in the music in your head as the melody continue to evolve, capturing the attention of the few occupants in the space. They watch in awe as you play, a slight smile on your face as you nod your head, forgetting about him – where you were at. He could see the shift in you, the ease as you get lost in this world, the music, and he can’t help the smile that forms on his face.

Utterly in trouble.

You finish the song after a few minutes, being rewarded with a few claps from both the bartender and the occupants and you shake your head, taking a deep breath as you look over at him.

“What was that shit talker? Something about not believing I could put a beautiful twist on a classic?”

He chuckles, laughing as he turns toward you,

“You were right – I was wrong I will give you that. But you can’t blame me; its Elton John!”

“Which is why I will forgive you. Just this once.” You kid, leaning into him and you both stop, staring at each other. He takes in the way your eyes drink him in, large pools watching carefully as your mouth twitches into a soft smile. You lick your lips and he can’t help but watch the moment, infatuated by the idea of tasting you, wondering if you felt the same.

Fuck it. He’d never know unless he tried.

His hand comes up to cup your face, brushing your cheek as he leans forward. You don’t move, and he can feel your pulse quickening against the skin on your neck as he draws you closer, his lips brushing against yours, testing to see if its okay. Its enough as you lean into him, your lips brushing against his own like cashmere, warm and sweet and he gives a relieved sigh as you place a hand on his shoulder. He wants it to be sweet, wants to pull away to tease you – its what he’d normally do – but he’s addicted, drawn into your spell. Instead his tongue flicks against your skin, questioning and you oblige, opening your mouth to let him kiss you deeper and he’s gone. Dizzy from the way your tongue easily glides with his, slowly, patiently, teasingly and he groans as his hand wraps around your neck while his other one grabs your wrist, pulling you closer to him.

It was addicting being kissed like this – a first kiss that was fueled by lust and alcohol but something else and you moan into his mouth when his thumb brushes against your exposed skin on your waist, causing you to shudder and he fights his cock from twitching in his pants because you deserved far better than sex on a first date even though he would happily take you here if you’d let him.

He didn’t want you to think you were just sex for him.

He wanted you to know that you meant more.

It’s when you both hear someone clearing their throat do you pull away, the motion happening so quickly you almost fall backwards, and he catches you easily as the bartender awkwardly places two drinks on the piano.

“Wanted to say I love that version of Benny & the Jets and these are on the house…. I’ll ugh….leave you both to it.”

You can tell he feels awkward for interrupting the intimate moment and you watch him, your lips flush and puffy before your eyes return back to Chris and you smile shaking your head.

“Smooth Evans, real smooth.”

“I didn’t know he was going to give us free drinks! I totally would have planned this better if I did….” He draws off and you laugh, snuggling closer to him, resting your head on his chest. Your hesitant at first and he easily wraps his arms around you, drawing you closer to him.

“I know.” You whisper, wrapping an arm around his waist as you go for a drink. He takes his cue, grabbing the left over before he rises it, placing a kiss on your forehead before saying,

“To a great night. And many more to come.”

You smile up at him, your eyes glistening with contentment and nod.

“To many more great nights.” You agree, and he bends down to press a quick kiss on your lips. When he pulls away he asks,

“Would it be too soon to ask you out to breakfast?”

You laugh and shake your head.

“Give it a few hours and I’ll let you know.”

You’re both too far gone, to enraptured with one another to notice Anthony and Sebastian walking in to the hotel lobby, obviously tipsy from meeting up with old friends. Can’t realize that as the two wait for an elevator, tipsy eyes roaming the hotel lobby, they fall upon you both at the piano.

“Think she’s trying to teach him how to play. Lost cause that one.” Anthony jokes but Sebastian’s eyebrows are furrowed because he knows differently. Knows differently when you stop playing, staring at him before Chris leans into the kiss.

And the way you lean back into it.

“Hey man, the elevator is here.” Anthony says, his voice is more silent as he nudges the tall Romanian in. Cursing the shitty timing of them rolling in, no longer able to joke about how pissed off you were going to be when they were hungover tomorrow. He had been able to temper some of Sebastian’s curious questions about Chris and yourself but he couldn’t deny what had just unfolded in front of them. And for once in a long time, he feels bad for him. Because Sebastian was really different, changed, maturing and still growing and he knew how much he really liked you.

Sebastian follows in blindly, trying to think through what he was feeling. Silent. A silent Sebastian was dangerous – he got lost in his head and started overthinking things – creating anxiety in the space he was in.  Anthony knows it – can sense it, knows that the earlier events was running through his head and is hesitant before he says,

“Listen I wasn’t going to get involved but damn you can’t have those puppy blue eyes and expect me to not say anything,” He sighs as Sebastian turns to him, his face confused and forlorn tearing at Anthony.

“Fuck! Listen – I know that you like Y/N. Don’t try to deny it anymore I see it dude. It’s so obvious. And no small wonder but Y/N is into you too but…. Sebastian you gotta step up more dude. Chris made it known how he feels about her. Made it known what he was willing to do to win her over. That he is willing to go the extra mile for her you know.  You’ve been nice but I’m nice and we’re friends. You gotta work thirty times as hard if you want a chance with her…. because you still have one I think. She may never admit it to me – but I know that she likes you. She was actually pretty happy that you were going to ask her for a date. But damn, you gotta man the fuck up Sebastian. You’re fucking Sebastian Stan, blue steel wonder and pecks for days. Show her that.”

The elevator dings on his floor and he heads out, shaking his head. Then he stops, turning around.

“I’ll even stop cock blocking and allow you to take her to lunch alone from now on. But put some damn effort in man because you can’t blame her for wanting Chris over you right now. She doesn’t even know that you’re into her. In her mind, she’s just this unattractive woman of color that you’re stuck working with. And that’s the shit you’re going to have to combat.”

He leaves Sebastian on the elevator, even deeper in his thoughts.

Why the hell would you think that your race had anything to do with I’m finding you unattractive? Or that he wasn’t into you at all?

How bad did he damage you all those years back?

Tag List:  @xgminigypsy @zohoffman @ssweet-empowerment@capsofwinchesters @tacohead13 @harleycativy@pietrotheavenger @francezka10 @papichulosebastian@obsessionsofmynerdheart @melaninmarvel @avengedqueen26 @nasteaxluvgal @winterbuttmunch

[badnovels]

shoot first

Retiring from a hard life as a gunfighter in the Wild West, Peeta Mellark finds one last wild thing he might never learn to tame. 

Rated M. 

A/N: I’m definitely not a historian, so please forgive any glaring accuracy errors. It’s all for the sake of fanfic entertainment! 

—-

“Another. Over ice.”

You’d think a man with his reputation would warrant a few more cubes in his glass of whiskey, but the surly barmaid with eyes like daggers plopped two measly pieces into his drink before sliding it down the bar with an expert flick of her slim wrist, sending it sailing toward him along with a complimentary scowl.

Over ice? The Widowmaker squinted and held his whiskey up to the light. More like melting pebbles.

He swirled the amber liquid and took a swallow before letting the glass land on the scarred plank of wood serving as a bar—not that he hadn’t seen worse. He’d had drinks at establishments far less clean and tidy than this one, saloons with pox-ridden whores lining the staircase and flies swimming belly-up inside stinking steins of beer. They’d certainly not had an ice house at their disposal.

No, this place—Sae’s Place boasted the flashy, gilt-edged writing on the shingle hung outside of the saloon—was a damn pretty sight for sore eyes. And a sore leg. 

He rubbed his thigh absently and not for the first time cursed the stray shot a couple months back that had all but ended his career as the fastest, most notorious gunslinger in all the Western territories. Oh, he could suffer through a few more jobs. Answer the distress call of another small town like this one and effortlessly clear out a handful of bandits menacing the population. Earn a wage, move on, rinse, and repeat.

But he was tired. It was time to face the facts: old gunslingers made dead gunslingers. And while at thirty-four he wasn’t exactly an old-timer, he wasn’t a spring chicken, either. His hand was as swift as ever, and he could ride, but mentally, he wasn’t in the game. The thrill had long since abandoned him, and whatever adrenaline rush and sense of accomplishment he’d once felt had disappeared with his foolish youth. What was left was a spotty conscience, a faulty leg, and a scarred, fearsome face that shook even the most professional of doxies.

And of course, there were the letters. He patted the pocket of his duster and grimaced, feeling the lump there.

The goddamn letters. He’d spent half of his life running from the responsibilities of home, but his past had come a-callin’ to hunt him down in the end—something no lawman, dueling desperado or bandito had ever accomplished. Guess that’d be what you call irony.

He drained his drink.

“One more,” he rumbled to the barmaid. “Now.”

The girl gave him a dirty look in return. An old saying crossed his mind, something about catching more flies with honey, but it’d been a long time since he had to use gentler means to bring a horse to water.

He watched her approach with the closest thing he’d felt to amusement in…Jesus, had it been years since he’d had a good laugh? He struggled to recall a blond, fresh-faced boy who’d always been good for a lark, and swiftly dismissed him to the furthest recesses of his mind, to where his past self had been banished.

But there was something about the way the barmaid sidled down the bar, reaching for his glass with slim fingers that somehow conveyed every bit of her aggravation with him. He was fascinated by the way they wiggled before wrapping around the handle of the cup. Enjoyed how she mulishly flipped that sleek, dark braid around. He liked how she sighed and her little pink tongue stuck out, as if pouring his drink was a hardship. 

He especially liked to watch her walk away.

“This is your sixth drink. Don’t you think you’re milkin’ it a bit, Widowmaker?” She pulled down a bottle from the end of the bar and filled his glass again. Flick. The glass flew across the wooden plank and landed in his hand, but he almost missed the catch when he heard her speak. 

“How so?”

“Even famous gunmen—” this she said with a roll of her silver-dollar eyes “—gotta get cut off eventually. This here is premium liquor. You done had more shots of it than the amount of men you ran outta town.”

It was official; he was in a bad way if his dick was made hard by the low, modulated voice of a surly lil’ barmaid from a know-nothing town like Twelve Rocks. But it’d been awhile since he’d been with a woman and his body was telling him he ought to pursue that interest, to soften her a bit, work her up to accepting one of the brothel tokens the grateful sheriff had stuffed into his pockets before shoving him toward Sae’s Place.

“You’ve got a real smart mouth,” he finally said. Well, no one had ever called him a charmer.

She scoffed. “You’re the first who’s told me so.”

“Really.”

She gave him another one of those scornful looks. The pressure at the seam of his trousers grew more intense.

“No,” she deadpanned, turning away from him to serve another customer.

He took the opportunity to look the girl up and down, taking in her low-cut dress. The garment was much like the ones worn by the saloon girls lounging on the laps of men they would eventually trickle upstairs with. It was a puzzle; the barmaid’s clothing proclaimed her to be available, but her demeanor did not.  

His eyes drifted over to the wall beside the bar, where keys attached to tags hung from pegs on the wall. About half of the pegs were empty. But his eyesight was excellent, and from there he could read the minuscule writing etched onto the remaining copper tags: Lola, Rose, Belle…

“What’s your name?” he asked curtly, raising his voice to be heard over the din of the saloon.

She stiffened.

“What’s yours, Widowmaker?” the girl shot back, a note of suspicion in her voice warring with a hint of smugness, as if she had gotten one over on him.  Well.

He took a sip from his glass. “Peeta.”

She blinked at him, and he felt real pleasure when her mouth dropped open in surprise.

“Yours?” he asked again, his stare deliberate. Peeta waited. When no name was forthcoming, he challenged her, “Believe that’s how name exchanges work.”

She gritted her teeth in response.

“Katniss!” hissed a dry, crackling voice. “What’re you doing, girl? Gettin’ on the last nerves of this fine fellow, I s’pose. Leave ‘em alone and let ‘em mix with some of the other ladies.”

The barmaid—Katniss— met his eyes, and they both turned to look at the wall of keys. His gaze drifted over tiny names, until he landed on one that made his heart pound and his pulse race like he was a green, wet-behind-the-ears virgin rather than a hardened gunman.

Katniss. Room 4. No guns allowed in room.

No guns? That’d be a problem. He paused. Looked at the lil’ barmaid with the smoky voice and breasts like two ripe plums and a smart mouth he had thoughts about.

Then the owner of the reedy voice joined Katniss behind the bar, jarring him from his daydreams about hard-to-get saloon girls with tempting lips and olive skin.

“Good sir,” crooned a crone with garish red cheeks and a purple dress. Her white, powdered face was lined with age and greed. “I’m Madam Sae, the proprietor of the place. Let me show you some of our finest girlies—the best you’ll find this side of the Mississippi.”

He calmly took his gun from its holster at his side and slid it across the bar along with a pocketful of brothel tokens, exchanging every one of them for a full night of favors with the surly girl with a smart mouth.

Katniss gaped at him in return.

“No need,” Peeta said. He stood and walked toward the wall and plucked a key from the wall. “Made my choice.” He glanced at Katniss out the side of his eyes as if she were a spooked mare. “If she’ll have me.”

Sae recovered quickly, a consummate professional. “Course she will,“ she said briskly, scooping up the tokens. She left the gun on the bar top. “Take your piece with you, Widowmaker. I make exceptions for heroes.”

“‘Preciate that.” He reholstered his gun. “Just wanted to be above-board.”

“Madam—” Katniss protested. 

“Get up there now, girl.” The madam lowered her voice to a deadly warning, her hand raised as if to slap the barmaid. Peeta tensed, poised to interfere. “You’re ‘bout useless to me. Hadn’t had a man in an age. Do this or you’re out, y'hear me?”

“Yes,” Katniss replied, subdued. She turned away and busied herself with choosing a lemon from a bowl on the bar, which she then slipped into her pocket. 

Odd, he thought.

“Go on, now. Get your room ready,” Sae commanded, and the girl walked toward the stairs and ascended them without looking back.

Peeta ambled over to his stool and finished his drink with one swill. He gave the madam an assessing look. “Doesn’t seem too willing.”

Sae waved her hand. The loose flesh of her upper arm moved with the motion. “Pah. She’s just a contrary one. Girl don’t know how to act when someone picks her up, happens so rarely. Don’t let ‘er fool you, though. Prolly relieved to be of some worth.”

“You’d kick her out?“ 

She shrugged and picked her stained teeth with one long, yellowed fingernail. “She’s good at the bar and with a broom. Depends if another girl needed the room. One that can bring in some decent scuds.”

“Hm.”

“Lemme know if she gives you a set-to. I’ll have words with her.”

He bounced in his palm the copper key that proclaimed he was the guest of Katniss, Room 4, No guns allowed in room. “Sure we’ll get along just fine.”

Sae nodded a bit doubtfully. “Even so.”

He retrieved his hat from where it sat on an empty stool and nodded at the madam. He wound his way through the crowded tables littering the saloon floor, and when one of the drunk, flailing men accidentally clocked his bad thigh, Peeta hissed out a stream of air. 

“S-sorry,” the other man said, his glazed eyes widening in fear. He leaned back in his chair, and a bead of sweat glistened on his dusty cheek. Everyone in the room seemed to hold their collective breath. 

“It’s fine,” Peeta ground out, clearing the tables and heading up the stairs. 

It was ridiculous, how these grown suckers acted. As if he’d have a shoot out right there in the saloon over a stray elbow. He’d always appreciated, if not enjoyed, the wide berth his reputation afforded him in the past, but now that he was on his way out of the profession, he found it…exhausting. Tiresome. 

 He cleared the steps and entered the long hallway, almost running into a saloon girl and her john as they rounded a corner.  

“Apologies, lover.” Her heavily made up eyes followed the line of his sturdy, finely made boots, the legs of his buckskin trousers, up his vest and then stopped like a wayward train off its track when she reached his face. He knew what she saw there—zippered scars bisecting his left cheek, a thick, puckered mark running from his right eyebrow down past his chin. A permanent, disdainful twist to his lips courtesy of a knife fight gone wrong. Nose thrice busted, set only once. A cold look in his eye that had come home to roost permanently after his dozenth or so kill. 

“Oh,” she breathed, twirling a thick, blonde curl around her red-tipped nail. The fear in her eye gave way to a sick sort of excitement, the type of look he had come to recognize in a certain kind of woman. She stepped away from her john. “Fancy a roll with Glimmer? Best in the house, yes siree. All the fellas say so.”

“I’ll pass, thanks.”

Peeta moved to walk around the her, but she stopped him with a hand on his chest. 

“Sae’ll tell you. You won’t find better.”

He stepped back deliberately, letting her hand fall away from his body. “I said no.” Then Peeta pushed past her, ignoring her insulted exclamation. He knocked on the door of room number four.

“Her?” Glimmer scoffed, stamping her barefoot on the floor with an affronted smack. Her john slinked down the stairs, reeking of sweat and cigar smoke. “But she’s—”

Out of patience, Peeta turned his head and fixed the woman with a look. She lost her color and fled down the steps after her john.

The door opened to room number four, revealing his small, frowning barmaid wrapped in a blue, silk robe. The tension in his body eased, to his consternation and befuddlement. Must be the scent of lavender wafting from inside the room. 

“You need an engraved invitation to come in?“ 

He gave her the same look he’d just given the other saloon girl, and Katniss laughed.  

“Oo-ee, gunslinger.” She walked backward, her hands held out in mock supplication. “That’s a scary face.”

His eyebrow twitched. “Thanks.”

“Shut the door, would you?”

He did as she asked, and there was a hushed moment as they both stood awkwardly in the middle of the room. The bed in the corner was all but taunting him. He hadn’t slept on a real mattress in well over a fortnight. 

Katniss toed off her slippers, and her eyes landed on the holster on his hip. “If you wouldn’t mind taking that off and placing it over there.” She pointed toward a small table by the window. “I’d be much obliged.” She shrugged out of the robe, and his mouth went dry. All he could see was delicate lace, silk and soft olive skin.

“Scared of guns?” he finally asked. Only the moans and squeaking of bed springs in the nearby rooms intruded in the silence between them.

“Daddy was shot and killed.“ Her reply was curt while she hung her robe on a hook, presenting him with the scantily clad back of her. Peeta didn’t know whether to look or to listen. His brain and his dick had opposing thoughts on the matter. "Tend not to think much about guns when you see the holes they make in your loved ones.”

“That’s fair.”

She made a huffing sound out of her nose, not unlike a wild mustang he’d once broke way back when Peeta was just a small shaver on the family farm. Then there was just the tense quiet all around them as she regarded him in her underthings. It struck him then that she looked like a very brave girl. Just a girl. 

But a pretty one, even with that scowling, stubborn face. Maybe because of it.

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want.” It took an act of God to get the words out from his raspy throat.

The look she gave him was pure skepticism. “You just wanna stay up here playin’ pattycake all night?’

"No.” An truthful answer. “But I’d…settle for holding you a little.”

“Which part of me?" 

He sighed in response, and her faced softened a fraction.

"Don’t mean to be difficult,” she muttered, lighting the wick of a half-burned candle. “Just…what d’you want from me? Just tell me exactly how you want me—it’s easier that way. I feel like the other shoe is gonna drop with all this nicey-nice.”

“I’ve been on the road for weeks. I’m tired. And a bit lonesome,” he said, the words blunt. “Haven’t felt the kind touch of a woman in awhile.”

“Oh.” She looked at him as if he were a particularly difficult riddle. 

“Been even longer since I’ve found anyone I spark with. And you’re…” He struggled for the word, his voice gruffer than he’d like. No helping that. “Clean. You have an honest face. Different. But I won’t force you.”

“Different.” She sounded out the word, as if tasting it and finding the flavor lacking. “Sounds about right.”

“Didn’t mean it as an insult.”

“No. I figured. Just heard it all my life. Happens when your daddy is half native,” she explained, matter-of-fact. She watched his face for some kind of cue. “Changed your mind yet?”

“Bout what?" 

"Playin’ pattycake with me. Since I have Indian blood and all.”

“What’s that got to do with anything?” he asked blandly. 

“Turns some people off. Others, makes ‘em more interested. Gives ‘em a thrill to have something different from blonde little Sally at home.”

Both the former and the latter made him feel a flash of anger that he worked to keep out of his expression.

“Doesn’t bother me.” Peeta looked toward the bed again. “I’m a murderer and an outlaw, depending on who you ask. Bother you?”

Katniss laughed wryly. Funny how that sound made him want to smile. “Nah, gunslinger.” She nodded once, the movement as sharp as her blade-like nose. “Alright, then. Guess we can get down to business.”

It occurred to him that he could be a gentleman and protest. But the girl was half-naked, willing, and…well. He was no gentleman.

“Sit down,” she invited, taking his hand and leading him toward the bed.

His fingers gave a curious tingle when her long brown ones wrapped around his, and he imagined tiny sparks between them before cursing his flight of fancy. A handful of months without sinking into a warm body and he was seeing fairy tales. There was something wretched about that.

He sat down on the sagging mattress, and watched warily as she knelt down in front of him. Was she going to…? He’d only had a woman take him in the mouth a couple times in the past, and he’d had to pay extra for the service.

“Lift your foot,” she said instead, and Peeta’s disappointment was tempered by puzzlement. He did as she asked, and she worked off one boot, then the other. When she reached for his socks, he almost balked. He was more surprised by the intimacy of having a woman remove his footwear than having one lick his spout. He’d rarely if ever removed all of his clothes when lying with a woman.  

He took the liberty of pulling off his shirt and vest while her nimble fingers worked at the button of his trousers, and he lifted his hips so the wool slacks pooled down around his bare, uncomfortably exposed feet.

She stared up at him for a moment, her eyes traveling over his body.

“It tickles me,” Katniss said, sitting back on her heels, “to see you in your union suit.”

He thought he liked hearing genuine delight in her voice, rather than that dry, jaded cynicism. If only it wasn’t aimed straight at his dignity.

“You thought I didn’t wear underclothes?”

She shrugged her smooth shoulders, and his eyes followed the rise and descent of them. “Dunno. Guess I thought the Widowmaker would’ve had on metal plates. Nothin’ as ordinary as those.” Her lips curved again.

“I’m a gunman, not a knight of the round table. Hate to disappoint, but we wear long johns.”

“Aw. Don’t get testy, pal. I was just funnin’ with you.” Katniss watched him as he started unbuttoning the union suit. She rose to her feet. “Need some help with that?”

“No.” He stood and stepped out of the underclothes, baring himself completely. “Better? Or am I still tickling you.”

She chewed her lip, all amusement fleeing from her grey eyes. “You’re…big.”

“Some have said.” Peeta reached out with a scarred hand and tilted her chin up.

Then he did something truly unusual. He kissed her.

He remembered every kiss he’d ever had. Lavinia Halleran at a barn raising when he was fourteen—she bit his tongue and made him bleed. Clove the whore when he was fifteen. Her lips tasted like cheap perfume, and her tongue was cold. And Mirabelle Madison, a married lady of distinction who wanted to ride the legendary Widowmaker. That was the best kiss of the three, but still unsatisfying and vaguely unpleasant. He begged off kissing after that, especially the whores. Kissing was unnecessary to the act of sexual relations, and he always discouraged the doxies from trying.

But he’d had a powerful hankering from the moment he laid eyes on his barmaid, borne from some bone deep desire to touch her. And fucking didn’t seem like enough.

He wanted to wrap that sleek braid around his hand, so he did. He wanted to pillage that smart mouth of hers, so he did. When she whimpered against his lips, he licked at hers in response. Frustration set in, because he wanted more, but wasn’t experienced enough in that particular art to follow through. For not the first time that day, he felt like a boy rather than a grown damn man.

“Wait,” the girl said, pulling away. Peeta tugged her back and pressed his lips to hers again, his hands skimming up her sides and snagging on the stiff material of the corset. He wanted the thing, off.  “No, wait,” she said again, laughing against his mouth. He liked that. She looked up at him with a red, puffy mouth. “Like this.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.” She kissed him again and worked his mouth open with her lips, and then slipped in her warm tongue and touched the tip of it with her own. His hands dug into her hips. The crisp smell of burning beeswax and cinnamon from the burning candle wafted into his nostrils as he inhaled deeply. He dimly registered the tune of a piano downstairs and the lusty sounds from the bedroom next door, but the slick music of Katniss’s tongue working against his was a louder melody.

He was the one who pulled away that time. He sat down on the bed behind them and cupped her hips, looking up at her with a face Peeta was certain looked even more hideous by the shadows of candlelight. Scars were made deeper, lips more twisted.

But if she was discouraged, her expression didn’t show it. In fact, he was downright mystified by the flushed, panting desire he saw. He’d only seen something even close to it on the girls who found pleasure in pain, and he hadn’t pegged Katniss for the type.

He tugged at the strings of her corset with one hand. “Can I take this off?” he asked, voice gruff. His cock was hard as a tack.

“Yes,” she said, her eyes conflicted, like she was trying to call back some composure. She watched his hands as they started to unlace the satin thing. One of his big, rough fingers brushed at the newly revealed skin, and she trembled. “I—yes. Whatever you want, gunslinger.”

“No. Tell me you want it.” With self-control he hadn’t known he possessed, Peeta let his hand fall away. He focused on the faded wallpaper behind her rather than her tempting, half-exposed chest, taunting him like a partially unwrapped birthday present. “You tell me, dammit, or I stop.”

She huffed. Lightly stomped her foot against the wooden slats of the floor. Glared down at him and looked away.

“I’m not supposed to want it,” she finally said, something like shame in her voice.

Ah.

“Yeah? Says who?” He slid his hand up her thigh, past her garters and stockings to the place that he hadn’t allowed himself to look at yet. He looked at her and pushed aside the thin material covering the shadowed triangle between her legs, and she nodded ever so slightly. Then he slipped a finger into soft folds. “You’re warm, and wet,” he said lowly. She met his eyes and stared, listening intently. “That tells me you want me, too. And that’s real good, because I need you slippery, because like you said. I’m real big, honey.”

“Yes,” she said, as if mesmerized.

“Can I take your hair down?”

She nodded, her expression dazed as he reached up and slowly unwound her thick, woven braid. His fingertips brushed against the silky ends, a warm feeling trickling through his gut and suspiciously north of his groin where the usual pit of desire was located. He met her eyes and an electric charge passed between them, and the unfamiliar tenderness creeping over him turned to something else as he wound her hair around his hand.

“Peeta,” she said, her lips barely moving.

Something about his name on her lips and the waterfall of inky black strands in his fist set a primal fire in him, and he lifted her up with one strong arm and down onto his lap as easily as if she were a doll.

He groaned when his cockhead brushed against her bare slickness, and he tilted her neck to the side and bit it, wanting, needing, to claim the girl.

“Wait,” Katniss gasped, scooting back on his thighs and away from his straining hardness. “Not like that.”

“Like what?” He was hanging on by a thread, gripping her hips with a pressure that he was afraid would leave bruises. He eased up, but she grabbed his hands as if to say it was okay.

“I need this,” she said, twisting toward the small table beside the bed. He watched in confusion when she picked up the lemon he had seen her take from downstairs. “You got a knife?” she asked with difficulty.

He was gratified to see she was as wound up as he was, her olive cheeks burning and her nipples hard little points he wanted to bite.

“A knife?” Peeta asked, distracted by the red tips. He took one into his mouth and she sighed. Not a mewling whimper or theatrical scream from Katniss like the last woman he’d fucked—a widow some nine months past—but a breathy, shivery little gust of air, like she was falling apart.

“I need it to…to cut up this…this…” She dropped her head back and ground down onto thigh, so wet that he could feel the moisture on his skin. “The lemon.” The fruit in question fell from her hand and rolled across the wooden floor when he nuzzled and sucked at her breast.

“Darlin, I’m not followin’ you,” he gritted out, releasing her nipple with a pop. “What in hell’s name are you talkin’ about? I don’t even like lemons. Or lemonade.” He scooted her closer to him, his cock searching out her folds again. “I hate em’ even more now.”

Katniss put both hands on his chest. “I can’t have a baby.”

He stared at her, his face blank. “That’s good. Real good.”

“No. The lemon, we slice a piece. Then…I stick it up…you know.” She looked flustered and beautiful, and if he wasn’t so disturbed by the sudden realization of what the lemon was for, he would have kissed her pretty, flushed cheek. “I just need some help because I’m not too sure how to go about it by myself. But I can’t have a little one—”

“I’ll pull out,” he said, covering her mouth with a big hand. “I’m not puttin’ a lemon inside you.”

She looked at him doubtfully. “I don’t know.”

“Haven’t been with a woman in ages. No diseases.” His jaw twitched. “Normally have a rubber on me, but even still. There’s been no trail of bastards behind me. Don’t reckon I can have them. Childhood illness,” he explained shortly.

Katniss chewed her lip, already made red by his clumsy mouth. “I ‘spose that’s okay,” she said. “Just this time.”

Peeta tweaked her nipple. “Yeah?” he asked lowly. “You sure?”

She nodded and then gasped when he wasted no time, lifting her up and then down onto his hardness.

“Damn,” he swore, his hands tight around her hips. “I didn’t…you feel so…” He bucked upward and she went along for the ride, a passive, gasping participant as he worked her over his cock as if she weighted nothing more than a sack of flour. Long minutes passed in a series of grunts and prayers and exhalations.

           “Wait.” Her eyes were screwed tightly shut and her hands scrabbled at his shoulders. “Wait, something—something is happening.”

“Good,” he ground out. “Let it happen. Let go.”

“Peeta- oh…” Katniss stiffened and her body shook with tiny tremors, and the sharp clench of her fingernails into his skin sent him into a sudden release right along with her.  

“Fuck,” he said, lifting her from his still-spurting cock. “Sorry.”

She climbed off him and padded over to a small table and brought back a cloth. She wordlessly cleaned him off while he stared at the crown of her dark hair.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated. He hadn’t spilled like that since he was a boy with his first woman.

“It’s okay,” she said, standing straighter. “You were…that was real nice. You were nice. I’ll remember that.”

Peeta grabbed her wrist when she turned away. “Let me clean you up.”

“I’ll need to wash this off first,” Katniss said, gesturing toward the basin.

“No,” he said, drawing her down to the bed. “With my mouth.”

—–

The sunlight streaming through the smudged window of room number four sent Peeta’s eyes into slits as he woke up from one of the best night’s sleep he’d ever had. He lifted his head and looked hard at the face of the girl lying next to him.

Then he rolled off the bed, dressed, availed himself of her tooth powder, and walked downstairs to find the whoremonger Sae.

“Here,” Peeta said, turning a bag upside down onto the bar counter top. The old woman blinked down at the pile of coins.

“That good?” she said, a greedy gleam in her eye that he didn’t much care for. It said she was thinking about squeezing the goose until it laid more golden eggs.

“This is enough to buy a year of her time.” His voice was cold and absolute. He put as much murder into it as possible. “No other men. I’ll be back around to check on her. And if there’s even a hint of her bein’ mistreated, I’m gonna know. And I ain’t gonna be happy. Understand?”

“Yes,” she whispered, shrinking backward even as her shaking hand reached out for the gold coins.

“Treat her nice. Treat her like a daughter,” he suggested.

She nodded so hard her jowls quivered. “I will.”

—-

Seven Months Later

Peeta meant to come back long before this. He’d thought about the girl at the saloon far more often than he cared to admit, but being back at the family homestead had taken up the bulk of his time.

The letters from his father had spoken of dire things— his own failing health, a dead brother, and a desperate need for his youngest son to come home and take care of matters.  

Peeta thought it would take a month, maybe two at the most, to settle things at Mellark Ranch, but two months had quickly turned into double that, and before he knew it, he was a rancher instead of a hired killer. Foals needed to be born, and stallions needed to be broken, and crops didn’t just tend to themselves.

But then he finally had a moment to breathe, and with that came an aching inside of him that he could only chalk up to being hard-pressed for a warm body to slip into. And since the body of his choice was only a day’s ride away, well, why not?

Now he was walking into the batwing doors of Sae’s Place, his hair freshly combed hair and a pep in his step that was unbecoming for the scarred-up bastard who was once the Widowmaker. He was practically whistling, for fuck’s sake.

Peeta pushed his way through the crowd and headed toward the familiar countertop at the front of the room.

“Lookin’ for a girl,” he told a barkeep pouring beer into a glass.

“Ah, yes. We got a lot of those,” the man replied with a knowing smirk. He nodded at the wall of keys, where Peeta had once found one labeled Katniss. “Nice ones.”

“Don’t want a nice one. Lookin’ for Katniss.”

The barkeep’s face went blank. “Oh- that one…she’s not for sale.”

“Glad to hear it.” Peeta gestured for the beer that had just been freshly poured. The bartender took a quick look at the man who’d originally asked for it, who in turn sized up Peeta before shaking his head and walking away. The barkeep wisely pushed it toward him. “She belongs to me.”

“That so?” came a voice behind him.

Peeta took a long pull from beer and turned away from the other man’s surprised face. He felt a thump of excitement thrum through him as he faced the familiar voice. He’d been looking forward to this moment for—

He opened his mouth and closed it.

She was beautiful. Just as he remembered. Except one detail.

She was heavily pregnant.

“That go for both of us?” Katniss said, putting her hand on her stomach.

Well, damn.

—-

“Your family ain’t gonna like this.” Katniss took his hand and climbed into the wagon he’d haggled from a local seller. She was clumsy with child -his child- and his big hands hovered even as she settled into the worn seat. He placed her pitifully small bag into the back of the wagon before jumping next to her and taking the horse’s reins.

“I’m a grown man. No one has to like it but me.”

She was quiet as they drove away from the dusty little town she’d called home.

“Do you?”

He looked at her.

“D’you like it?” she repeated. Then Katniss looked away. “Never mind.” Her voice was a low mutter. “Was a stupid question. I know you don’t like it. No man would. I’m just…I shouldn’t have left with you. If I’d had the luxury of pride, I’d have said no!” She looked at him with defensive grey eyes. “You-”

“Katniss.”

She stopped talking.

He kept his eyes straight on the path ahead as he spoke. “Didn’t think I could have kids. Never thought about it, ‘specially with the life I lived. But now I’m just a rancher. But it’s a good living. Got a lot of space for a kid to run around. Yeah. Never thought about it before, but…now I’m thinkin’ about it. And I’m thinkin’ I like it.”

Her small hands crept to her stomach. Peeta smiled and flicked the reins.

They moved forward and onward, together.

—

Thank you for reading Shoot First; also known as The One Where He Can Handle a Gun But Doesn’t Know When to Blow His Load. :)

[belladonnaandulriched]

the artist | chapter eleven

It was that morning I realized I was a month from turning eighteen: seventeen years on this earth and I could actually say I survived a horrific pandemic. I had washed and kept my mask stashed away in the bottom drawer of my desk since news of the virus garnered in our favor. Such a high body count and yet we all survived it.

And now after hearing about it returning with the strength it had had before the release of the vaccine, I had to bring it back out of its hiding place.

Keep it on. Wash your hands. Stay far enough away from anyone and everyone so that if we all had our arms spanned out like birds, our fingertips would not even brush each other. Which meant I knew I would have to think about how to deal with Lars, Joey, Will, Chris, Dave, and Stone later on.

But I needed to be with them: I needed to help them out.

I had the story of having made art for some friends. It was sort of the truth and yet I never mentioned any names, so I found it to be a big fat lie as well. But I had to tell my parents where I was headed to nonetheless. I had art to tend to. I had the delicate lives of six men in my hands.

My mask had a filter inside of it to keep my face cool in the face of the intense heat looming over the Northwest in the summer time, and yet I recalled sweating like crazy around my chin and my mouth on the particularly hot days. It didn't help matters it was jet black and with the outlines of little white sugar skulls embroidered on the outside, either.

I hitched my hand bag over my shoulder with the new graphites Joey had given me, my laptop, and my digital drawing tablet inside; I tucked my phone into my pocket.

My mom put her arms around me.

“Stay safe, baby,” she whispered into my ear.

“Wash my hands and don't take off my mask,” I reiterated to her as I adjusted the bottom of my mask.

“I'll call if there are reports of new cases here,” she vowed. “You know what it was like before the vaccine came to fruition.”

“Absolutely!” And without another word, I stepped out the morning mist. Mount Rainier loomed in the background with the soft gray clouds and the incoming rain.

I had called Stone and Dave before I got dressed, and the former told me they were coming to pick me up and drive me to the speakeasy. Lucky for me, they had posted up down the block before the corner and right next to a large evergreen shrub that could hide all seven of us. I walked at a brisk pace towards their car; Stone had on a bright red kerchief over his nose and mouth while Dave had on a black ski mask.

“You guys heard, too?” I asked them through the slightly open passenger window once I came within earshot.

“The hell we did!” Dave declared in a muffled voice.

“Get on in—the boys are waitin' for ya,” Stone told me with a gesture to the back seat. I climbed in and we drove up to the speakeasy. Once we reached the neighborhood, I realized Chris had forgotten to text me good morning earlier. Or maybe he did, I just didn't feel it or hear it for whatever reason.

But I took out my phone from my pocket. The screen was blank. He forgot to text me.

But we reached the outside of the speakeasy before I could do anything more. I climbed out and thanked Stone and Dave for driving me there.

“I should tell you,” Dave started in a muffled voice, “I just sent some roses to Tom—Tom Araya, you know about him?”

“Yes,” I said.

“—I sent him roses this morning and he told me the pathogen has come back in full swing back East. He might come up here from L.A. to see what's going on with the speakeasy here, but that's about it. Rock n' roll and metal is like a family, so—we're looking out for all of you guys as well as any of our friends, too.”

“So give us a ring if things go sideways,” Stone advised me.

“Gladly!” I said; there was a part of me that wanted to give them both kisses but I knew I couldn't. Not now. Not with the virus raging again.

I headed into the building with my bag still slung over my shoulder: I opened the door with the sole of my shoe as I didn't want to risk it.

Lars and Will were congregated on the side of the room with what looked like my drawings of them. Lars looked as though he had just taken a shower while Will's eyes drooped a bit with exhaustion. The latter held a big old paint brush, one with a thick handle and a head of bristles the size of a quarter.

“Hey, there she is!” Will declared with a tired smile, and then his smile faded when he realized I was wearing a mask.

“Do you guys have masks or anything to cover your faces with?” I asked them as I came within earshot.

“No,” Lars replied with a knitting of his eyebrows. And then he gaped at me. “Oh, fucking hell. Don't tell me.”

“It is,” I said with a nod of my head. “Unfortunately. I saw it on the news earlier—it's not up here, but I'm wearing this no matter what happens.”

“Don't blame ya,” said Will with a shake of his head.

“Where's Joey?” I asked them.

“He's still sleeping,” Lars replied.

“He had kind of a rough night last night,” Will added. “He was awake a lot. He kept kicking me in the face, too—he and I were sleeping head to toe—so I hardly slept last night myself.”

“Tour life seems a bit redundant now, doesn't it?” Lars joked.

“For real. Even when I was with Comes With the Fall, I slept better on a single stint of a tour than I did last night.”

“Also, I just got off the phone with Chris,” Lars told me. “He's on his way here right now.”

“I was just going to ask, have either of you guys talked to Chris?”

My phone buzzed in my pocket. I took it out and checked the screen, and I swallowed down the upwell of a fluttery feeling in my stomach at the sight in my hand.

“Shit, I might have to spend the night here,” I confessed to them.

“Probably,” Will replied with a shrug of the shoulders. “You probably can't leave anyway.”

The sound of yawning caught my ear. I raised my gaze to Joey shuffling into the room from the far end. Some of his black curls spread over his face while others had been pushed back from the side of his neck and his shoulder; his brown eyes just looked tired.

“Hey, he's awake!” Lars declared.

“I'm awake,” he echoed in a broken voice. “—and I feel like the cat just dragged me inta th' place, too.” His face lit up at the sight of me. “Hey, Hahlly. I was hopin' you'd show up, I wanna ask you—” And then his face washed out to the color of old wallpaper. “—oh, fuck, you gotta be kiddin' me.”

“It's spreading like crazy back East,” I told him. “I'm not risking it here.” He breathed hard and heavy.

“Oh, shit—” He sank down in the chair at the counter and ran a hand through his black curls. I stayed away from them even though I knew we were far away from it.

I looked at Joey's little body and I grimaced at the thought of him contracting the virus. I also grimaced at the thought of Chris contracting it, too.

To envision both men having the absolute worst time breathing and blanketed in a thick wave of cold sweat. Eating only things that are incredibly spicy to otherwise taste it. To hear their hacking coughs and to see their beautiful bodies wither and waste away to nothing, especially with Joey given he was thinner than Chris.

The door behind me swung open; I turned to find Chris himself striding inside, complete with a black mask upon his face, too. He had little crescent moons embroidered on the front of his mask.

“Hey,” I greeted him in a soft voice.

“Hey,” he echoed; the corners of his eyes crinkled with a beckoning smile. “Sorry I didn't text you earlier.”

“Oh, it's okay. I figured you would at some point anyway.”

I returned to Joey behind me.

“What'd you want to ask me?” I recalled. He pointed at the big paint brush in Will's hand.

“I wanna watch ya paint,” Joey told me.

“You want to watch me paint,” I reiterated with a snicker.

“Yeah. I watched ya draw—I wanna see what'cha do with bristles. I know Chris does, too.”

“But Joey being Mr. Sassy drew the straw first,” Chris filled in.

“Okay. Where do you wanna do it?”

“There's a room in the back here that's the quintessential place to paint. Lars found ya paints an' everythin'.”

“I really did,” said Lars as he ran his fingers through his wet hair. “I even set up a little easel for you.”

“Aw, that's so sweet,” I remarked.

“Just—y'know—don't breathe on me,” he said. “Well, of course,” I chuckled at him. Joey gave his curls and ringlets a light toss back with a flick of his head and then he stood to his feet. He gestured for me to follow him. I didn't even walk three steps when someone behind me cleared their throat.

“Holly,” Chris called after me. I turned around to find he had stripped off his mask and tucked it underneath his chin.

“Yeah?”

He swallowed. He nibbled on his bottom lip.

“You forgot this.”

He held out the paint brush that Will had found. I gasped and strode on over to him. Even though he kept his mask underneath his chin, I walked on closer to him with my eyes locked onto his.

“Thank you,” I said to him in a soft voice, to which he winked at me with his left eye so Will and Lars wouldn't notice.