#small town problems are truly something

[little-pondhead]

[sonolynn]

What the Fates Allow-P

summary | Sixteen years ago, Rhaenyra gave birth to a bastard, a girl in which she sent away. Sixteen years later, that bastard would fall into the hands of none other than Prince Aegon himself.

pairing | Aegon Targaryen x Bastard!Reader

tags | talks of birth, bastards, some sexual content mentioned, drunkenness, blood, mentions of drunkenness and ale, ooc!aegon because...he's complex. not proof read

w.c | 1.5k

note(s) | ITS HEREEEEE!!! This is set around the time of drift mark, so Aegon would be around like sixteen.

___________________________________________

Nine moons ago, Rhaenyra had gotten a speech from her dear uncle Daemon about how the “Dragon” could take what and whomever they wished. And in this case, Rhaenyra chose her uncle Daemon Targaryen. Outraged by the news that Rhaenyra could have possibly slept with someone outside of marriage, Queen Alicent Hightower gave Rhaenyra moon tea; A tea only made by the most skilled Maesters to therefore prevent or abort pregnancies. If brewed correctly, the tea could “take care of the problem”, which is what queen Alicent intended it to do. 

Being complacent, Rhaenyra took the tea and drank it. But, what no one told her about moon tea, was that if brewed incorrectly, it would cause great, severe pains in the stomach and could lead to death-or worse, being pregnant. 

And, Rhaenyra found out three moons later that the tea did in fact, not work. So, for the next seven months, Rhaenyra hid her pregnancy under the guise that “she was gaining weight”. She wore ill fitting clothes to hide her bump, and, as the time came closer for her to deliver, Rhaenyra was sent away under the pretext that she was visiting her uncle, Daemon Targaryen in Dragonstone. 

And now, Rhaenyra sat in the bed, the pain between her legs only growing as she pushed. The servants comforted her from behind her as she labored. If she was to be fully honest the small comforts brought her only more anxiety. The stress from having to keep this a secret, to having to travel to a different town under the guise that she was “visiting” a family member, made this situation so much more consequential. 

The birth was not easy. Rhaenyra felt like the world was shifting underneath her multiple times, and the pains that traveled through her back and towards her hips definitely did not help. She swore to herself multiple times that, feeling as though she would pass out at any moment. But then, the pain stopped, and so did the world as she heard the small cries of her infant.

“A girl, princess.” The servant smiled softly, handing the wrapped bundle to Rhaenyra. 

As Rhaenyra held her babe, she felt an overwhelming sense of joy, fear, and protectiveness wash over her. This tiny, innocent creature came from her, her. The small girl nuzzled close to Rhaenyra, still whimpering. Rhaenyra smiled, holding her babe close whilst staring into her eyes. As she studied her new daughter, Rhaenyra noticed the small mark on the girl's chin. Rhaenyra reached up, and she ran a finger over the mark, her eyes studying it carefully. 

For the next month, Rhaenyra stayed in Dragonstone, taking care of this babe and growing more and more fond of her. As she recovered, however, the time neared in which she would have to give her daughter up. Rhaenyra didn’t know why, but the pain in her chest tightened daily as the day neared. She thought that it would be easier-to give away this babe-but, as she walked through Flea Bottom, dressed as an peasants costume, the realization dawned on her that she truly loved this babe; That parting with her firstborn daughter-even if she was sired by Daemon Targaryen-would be something she would regret for the rest of her life. 

Rhaenyra walked up to the door of the brothel, her heart twisting around itself as she stared blankly at the door. Was this truly the fate she wished upon her daughter? To be forced into a shame filled life, a life in which she grew thinking that nobody would want her? No…No she couldn’t possibly- 

But then the door to the brothel opened, and there stood Madam Sylvie. Rhaenyra knew that there would be no going back now, that she had dug her own daughter's grave and now she must lie down in it. 

“Take care of her. Gentle.” Rhaenyra spoke softly, handing her daughter, her precious girl, to the Madam. The Madam nodded gently, holding the girl close to her. The girl started to cry softly, missing the warmth of her mothers embrace. The madam looked up at Rhaenyra, but Rhaenyra stood strong; As strong as she could. 

“She is precious, do not let men use and hurt her…She doesn't deserve such a fate.” The madam nodded gently at Rhaenyra’s words, listening intently over the infant's cries. 

“Of course, Princess.” Rhaenyra watched her daughter squirm in the strangers arms, and she let out a breathy sigh. 

“Her name is Y/n.” And with that, Rhaenyra turned and she left. At the sound of her mothers retreating steps, the babe started to cry louder. Rhaenyra had the urge to turn back, say forget it and deal with the shame of living at court with a bastard. But her pride got in the way, and while listening to the symphony of her daughter's cries, Rhaenyra left. 

___________________________________________

Sixteen years later. 

“Y/N!” Madame Sylvie yelled out. She looked up from the cup that she was cleaning, searching for Sylvie. Her eyes softened slightly as she found Madam Slyvie approaching her. 

“Yes, Madame?” She spoke softly, gently placing the cup back down. The madam sighed softly as she placed a hand on her head. 

“The prince is over there, drunk of course. Could you bring him a pint, dear?” 

“Of course, Madame.” She was confused for a moment. The prince? Well, which one? It could be Daemon Targaryen, or Aemond, or Aegon, the girl did not know. But, nonetheless she smiled, quickly filling up a pint and quickly walking in the direction of the boy. She leans down, holding out the pint to him. The boy seemed dazed, his shoulder length hair greasy and messy, his cheeks rosy and his eyes elsewhere.  

He turned, staring at her curiously as he gently took the pint. He seemed interested in her, the way her eyes held a certain gleam to them that he did not see in others. 

“...You look..familiar.” The boy says. The phrase makes her pause, her hands gently brushing against his as she slides the pint into his hand. She didn’t recognize the boy, barely ever having seen him amongst the hundreds of men's faces that she saw daily. 

“I do not recall us meeting.” She spoke gently, so as to not accidentally offend the young man. When she went to stand, the boy grabbed her wrist, a drunken smirk caressing his juvenile features. He stared at her with a hunger that she had seen many times before in men; The hunger that the madam never let her satisfy. 

“How much do you charge, girl?” He asked slowly. She stared at him, confused for a moment. She withdrew her hand, much to the boy's dismay. 

“I am not…I do not offer services, my lord.” She speaks softly, as to try and keep his inevitable anger at bay. But, much to her surprise, the boy didn’t seem angered, only more determined.

“A moment of your time then?” Asked the boy, his smirk still evident on his face. She seemed scared, for a moment thinking that he would take advantage of her, but the boy sighed heavily in his drunken state and he sat up a little. “I mean you no harm. I just wish for company.” He spoke softly. There was something almost comforting at his tone of voice, something juvenile and hurt lying beneath. 

“Alright then. Company you shall have.” 

The two sat and talked for genuine hours. Madame Sylivie paid them no mind, happy to have someone distract the drunken prince from her girls. The prince confided int the girl, and the girl in him, and at the end of their talk, he handed her a bag of coins. 

“For your time.” He spoke. When placed in the girls hand she gasped, feeling its weight. She immediately went to hand it back to him. 

“My prince I could never take such a sum-” But the prince refused to hear it. He gently closed her hand over the bag of coins and smiled at her. Albeit a drunken one, she could not say that it was not a charming one.

“You should be paid for your services, girl. They were most enjoyable.” And with that, he left her, flustered and confused. Until the next time he visited. 

For the next few years Y/N sat with this Prince-who she learned was Aegon-in the same corner, at the same time, at the same place. He would not bed her, nor would he force her to do anything she didn’t wish to. He found himself staring at her when she would not be looking, sneaking small touches, and so forth, but he refused to believe that he may like her, romantically. He could not have a lowly barmaid as his wife, even if he wished to (which he swore he didn’t). So, the drunken prince found a friend in this barmaid. And, although he would not say it,  perhaps something a little more than a friend.

___________________________________________

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@povofjustme @targaryenswhxre @starzzgirl @void21 @rosalietyrell @abecerra611 @hangmanscoming @cherriescream @thelastemzy @ccallistata @boypls @visenyareads @helo1281917 @darceshoney

[azulhood]

Jazz was, at her core, a pessimist.

Oh sure, she wanted the best outcomes and strived to always see the best in people. But listening to her parents talk about and share crime scene photos of someone who was brutally murdered and who may haunt the place they were headed to while true crime podcasts played instead of road trip tunes as they traveled to whatever graveyard had caught their interest had dulled young Jazz's faith in humanity.

Jazz still had memories of a young her standing in an abandoned insane asylum (or abandoned hospital, or old house, or graveyard, or whatever place they dragged her too) holding a small torch with shaky hands and begging to leave because she was terrified "Can we go? Please? this place is scaring me" only to be told "In a minute Jazzy, we down want the ghost getting away."

They had settled down after Danny was born, choosing to stay in one placed instead of traveling all over the country. She still expected them to unexpectedly announce that they were going on the road again, she had plans in case they did (saying she'd stay behind with the van to take care of Danny was better then both of them getting used as ghost bait) But surprisingly they didn't.

And Jazz was thrilled. Sure, she and Danny were known as the kids of the towns crazy ghosthunters, and sure, she basically had to raise her brother since her parents would rarely leave their lab let alone focus on something not ghost related, and yes, she did have to carefully plan out how to use the family's money so that none of them starved.

But no more sleeping in cheap hotels or their van, no more making friends at playgrounds that she'd never see the next day, no more countless hours spent in places where people died, no more English lessons while on the road. She went to school now, she had friends that she saw more than once, she had a home that wasn't filled with cockroaches and the sounds of a argument from the room next door. She had a semi-normal life.

In this time of normality, she relaxed, she let her guard down. Then Danny died and only came back halfway.

And Jazz was back to being that little girl who was scared of ghosts, only this time she was scared for a ghost.

Danny didn't tell her at first, and even though it hurt she understood, and so while she waited for him to tell her, she planned.

She took job after job, from mowing someone's lawn to working at a checkout. Money had been put aside in bags filled with clothes and a pair of new id that she had gotten from Tucker, ("Just in case our parents get classified as supervillains and we need to flee" She said not giving anyway that she knew of Danny's ghostly problem, Tucker had made the id anyway even if he thought she was joking and did not in fact have a plan should that situation happen) One of their neighbors was willing to let her buy their old car despite her family's driving history. A safe house (more like safe apartment) was bought in the only place that was willing to let a teen buy property, Gotham City.

Danny fought numerous enemies until the only enemy that was left was telling their ghost hunter parents that their son was half dead.

Compared to her, Danny was an optimist, seeing the best in everyone without even having to try like she did. Believing that the best would happen like if he didn't, he would break into a million pieces and not know how to put himself together again.

Even though he was scared Danny believed that their parents wouldn't react badly, Jazz hoped they wouldn't but was prepared if they did.

And finally, after many nights spent wide awake in case her parents tried to rip Danny apart molecule by molecule while she slept, the shoe dropped. Their parents loved them, but their work came first, it always came first. Jazz loved her parents, she truly did, but she loved Danny more. And in the end, that made her choice of driving all the way to Gotham with nothing but their go bags all the more easier.

And that was how Jazz and Danny ended up as the neighbors of one Jason Todd.

[itsdannycragg]

Hi Tumblr!

I logged da fuck off at some point and will continue to be very much so not on social media! Believe me when I tell you life is better on the other side.

I do want to pop in with a life update for the curious!

I'm out here in Durham, NC, and three years after moving here with Shelby and Brian, I can confidently say there isn't a place in the world I'd rather put my roots down.

I never knew what actual community looked or felt like until I came here. I'd made friends in town everywhere I'd lived, of course, and we would go out to eat or on a vacation, visit a gallery or something, but in Durham it's just different. Looking out the window during a car ride, chatting with a stranger in a grocery store, checking out a thrift shop or going to the library, I find myself declaring "I love living here..." the same compulsive way I tell my partners I love them. Durham isn't just a place I live, it's where I belong.

I've been calling myself an ex-cartoonist, and preaching the nightmare of trying to make art for infinite-profit focused megacorps. It's not that I didn't love making cartoons, it's that I did. It may not be that way for everyone, but for me, working a job I loved meant I was working every second of my life. Being an artist is a core part of my heart and soul, and near the end, I had become so burnt out I would spend hours just trying to start doing the work I used to fly out of bed excited to do.

So I did some of this and that, worked a retail job that fucked my hands up so bad that I had to have double carpal tunnel release surgery. 29 years as an artist and I get carpal tunnel from hefting around boxes in a warehouse!

Since then, I've pivoted into building a career as a graphic designer. (And I'm learning web dev too!) I'm getting involved in the local nonprofit scene, meeting so many incredible people and finding so many cool and exciting opportunities to focus my design work on community awareness, nonprofits, small businesses!! I didn't expect that to be so viable for a Graphic Designer. I had the misconception for a long time that I'd have to put my creative sensibilities aside for more dry, sensible corporate phooey. But there's so much more. Graphic design is truly a delight and a challenge! I have always enjoyed thinking critically about all forms of human creation. Why am I so drawn to this book cover? What makes that building so weird? Why do these casserole mix boxes piss me off? Why does that person's outfit look so fucking awesome?

Taking those thoughts and using them to inform how I approach design is an entirely different beast from animating and illustrating. I'm fighting for my life out there formatting text, morphing vectors and and scooting things around a comp until it works. A picture's worth a thousand words, but you don't have space for a thousand words in a graphic design. Condense! Condense! It's challenging, and a lot of fun.

Working as a cartoonist was my dream come true, and I am forever proud of and thankful for the part I have played in the history of animation and queer representation in entertainment. I had the privilege of having the life crisis I had at 21— "I never thought I'd get this far. What more could I want? What do I do now?"

Well, a decade later I confidently know what comes after having my dreams come true. I get older, and I experience new things, meet new people, struggle paying bills, endure all kinds of misfortunes and problems, and come out the other side astounded and proud to have survived it. Grow closer to my family friends and community as the years deepen our history together, and just be amazed and thankful that I made it this far, over and over.

It's funny being called old by my younger friends, because I have never felt so young in my life! I JUST cracked 30. There are so many things I haven't done yet, and so many things I don't know that I don't know yet. And I have the power to take ALL of this and to create art about it. Hopy shit!

Speaking of making art and sharing it, one of the reasons I'm excited to be learning web dev is so I can carve out places online where I can share anything and everything I want to. Media Crit, comics, essays, comics, illos, however I want to present it. I'll share it when I get the site running. Or maybe I wont and you'll have to find it by chance.

And of course, I'm still actively writing Neokosmos with Shelby and Brian, and doing other little things here and there. :) See ya when I see ya, Danny

[soapybutt17]

Too Sweet For Me

Summary: It was the annual Military Ball, the fifth one since you and John have been married in secret. With his new promotion as Captain, meant a whole ball park of responsibilities he was still getting used to—but nothing gets to him more than the mere sight of you, his beautiful darling in the dress he always loves. It was also something to prepare for with the new changes that came to this year’s ball. Character: John Price x F!Wife!Reader. Kate Laswell. Word Count: 2,190 Chapter Warnings: None. Author's Note: this was also supposed to be for @glitterypirateduck's O'Captain challenge but my appendix had other plans for me this past few days. Lol.

Inspired by this song (obviously)

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“Darling.” You couldn’t help but smile at your husband’s pained groan.

With a red backless dress, you know you would turn heads with your outfit and even more certain that your husband would be killing a few men if you weren’t too careful about him.

“Behave.” You pulled away from him as soon as you felt his hands hold onto the small of your exposed back. You turned to face him, seeing him so handsome in his ceremonial uniform, an upgrade since his new promotion.

“I don’t think I can see myself behaving with you looking so ravishing.” He muttered approaching you again and pulling you into another kiss, allowing him this one time since you have yet to put your make up on. “Will this be a problem for tonight?” He playfully warned.

“If you keep your hands to yourself it won’t.” You playfully pointed out pecking him on the lips one last time before turning your attention back to your vanity mirror to put on your makeup. “I’m surprised that you actually plan on coming to this year’s event. I’d expect you to just stay home after the last mission.” You pointed out.

Behind the bravado and the handsome uniform your husband had on, was a broken but healing man that just got back from a mission. A few scrapes and bruises you all know too well were hidden perfectly well, but the black eyes was something that would take more than an ice pack and makeup to actually cover.

“Better to be there to see what those muppets have planned.” He grumbled.

You had accidentally let it slip that there was going to be an auction for this year’s event and you had volunteered to be part of the auction. A simple date that you were certain meant absolutely nothing but it was for a great cause and you couldn’t really fault them with.

Your husband was still apprehensive about the fact, especially knowing that no one was made aware of your relationship to each other. Everyone was given the fact that you were both good friends that had been on countless missions together. It was nothing but friendship between the two of you if you were ever spotted in town together even when the both of you knew it was something more.

“It’s just one date, even Kate is joining along.” You tried your best to reassure him but it wasn’t happening whatsoever with the deep frown resting on his lips.

“Just because I agreed to this doesn’t mean I’m happy about it.” He muttered under his breath, finally resigning by your decision, which you were thankful for. No need for you to try to convince him with anything.

“You owe me for this. I need some kind of motivation for tonight not to blow someone’s head.” He muttered.

And you spoke too soon.

“How about a day or two in that ritzy cabin you’ve been pestering me about for weeks now.” You offered.

One thing you truly hated was being too out of touch with society if you could avoid it. You have to do it for work, you weren’t so keen on doing it in your personal time if you didn’t have to. But your husband just was a recluse when he wants to be and this was one of those many instance that he will have his way.

“Deal and the ring stays on so they know you’re mine.” He muttered.

You smiled, lifting your hand up for him to see the sparkle of your engagement and wedding ring still nestled on your finger. Even without him saying it, you wouldn’t even dream of removing it.

~

The newly promoted Captain John Price should have been at the top of the world because of his new title, but it was far from the reality of it as he watched his beloved wife continue to mingle amongst both officials and fellow soldiers. It still shook him to the core how someone like you could command yet bring comfort to anyone that was privileged to be in your presence.

But that was just what made him love you so much. How someone like you, a Lieutenant to his own position as a Sergeant would never once use your position to demean him or treat him as anything less than you were. Some may say your call sign as Rookie to be an insult, a way to make you less than what you truly were, but you proved time and time again that it was a reassurance to anyone lower than you that you will stand on equal footing as them if the need arises especially on missions.

“Rookie’s already stealing the spotlight.”

John turned his attention to one unfortunate woman he had the misfortune of meeting in his life that turned his whole world upside down. Kate Laswell was an intelligent woman—far too much for her own good at times but she was the best of the best in her line of work. She was one of the main reasons why he was placed in a mission that ended with him finally climbing the ranks.

“As she should.” John agreed, subtle in his comments as to avoid anyone, especially Laswell from thinking anything was going on between the two of you.

“I still can’t believe she refused the promotion.” She continued taking a swig at the whiskey she was cradling, only bringing a craving for one in John himself.

“I’ve heard. I don’t think she’d be a good fit with the paperworks from the looks of it.” He added.

Of course he knew the very reason why you had refused the promotion on your own end. You were in all accounts a better fit than him to become a Captain, a rank that had been a well-deserved position for everything you’ve done but every single time the topic would be brought up you had threatened retirement or AWOL if anyone pushes. You never truly saw yourself as someone that would be working behind the desk, you couldn’t help and navigate dealing with officials, you admit you were never built for such capabilities.

“I believe she is. You should have seen her chew on Shepherd during the last mission. She’s got guts and a heart that not something you see in the field often.”

He nodded, that was what made you special. He watched you now begin a lengthy conversation with the well-known and very much feared soldier Ghost. How you had been the only one to hold a conversation and not trembled at the sight of the monster of a killing machine.

“Why am I not even surprise with her.” He chuckled turning his attention away from you and turning towards Laswell. “So, are we just gonna spend the entire night talking about Rookie?”

“That’s not much of an issue for you Captain.” Laswell smirked knowingly.

“Will I ever live that down?” He questioned, jokingly.

He was once again reminded of the time in his drugged state where he was delirious enough to propose to you after a mission gone wrong. To many it was just him too drugged from painkillers but for you it was an intentional proposal that you accepted once you were alone.

“You’re never gonna escape the allegations, John. I will never allow it.” Laswell smirked finally excusing herself when the MC has begun.

He made his way to this designated table, his eyes always following you. He watched as you made your way backstage to prepare for the auction later on tonight. It brought the never ending dread in the pit of his stomach as the staff began distributing the auction paddle around, accepting his own without an ounce of hesitation.

It will be a long night that much he has come to realize.

~

“One Thousand!”

You had faced so much trials and tribulation during your career in the military. The vile and often times immoral acts that was placed against you during interrogations and kidnapping, but nothing in your life could have given you more shame than to be standing in front of the stage as numerous bids have been placed upon your name.

Your eyes had been following along to the numerous of individuals that were bidding, some were colleagues your husband had been all too certain had hots for you, others were top officials that you were more than certain were pigs for involving themselves in the date auction knowing they were married, then there were the guests that had been leering at you all night long.

Maybe your husband was right, the auction was a big mistake.

Your eyes scanned the entire room until they met the familiar eyes of your husband. The reassurance had settled on his eyes as much as the annoyance but he was waiting for you to give him the signal.

Somehow with a simple nod it was all he needed to do to raise the paddle and his booming voice had silence everyone.

“Ten thousand.” His voice had everyone turning.

It was one of the highest bids for the night and it just had to be from the man himself. The rest of the night had been a blur, after the auction and countless of formalities and empty conversations, you had found yourself in the arms of your husband as he helped you back onto the car.

“You alright?” He inquired cupping your cheeks the moment he had helped you with your seatbelt.

“Will get better.” You assured him grounding yourself back to reality as he patted your cheeks and driving the two of you back to your shared apartment.

The car ride was silent, the event with the auction still playing in your head. It could go so wrong in many ways if your husband did not intervene. It was supposed to be for a good cause, but it did not feel like it when you stood in front of the stage. You felt more like meat being prepared to be slaughtered.

Eventually you two had arrived back. Your husband opened the car for you and led you back to you to your apartment. The silence was consuming you more than you expected it to.

“Want to sober up or not?” Your husband inquired.

You turned to look at him as he made his way to the kitchen.

“Sober up would be great right now.” You sighed following him to the kitchen, hopping onto the barstool by the kitchen island. Toeing off your heels in the process, an unintentional moan escaped your lips from the relief on your feet.

“I haven’t done anything yet and you’re already moaning, My Love?” He teased placing a mug of coffee in front of you, from the smell alone you were all too certain was too bitter for your taste.

“Play your cards right and maybe I’ll be the one to make you moan all night.” You quipped right back, cupping the mug and relief of the warmth washing away the events of the night.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.” He smirked turning towards your mini bar and pour himself a hefty pour of whiskey.

“Surprised you didn’t threatened anyone at the party.” You pointed out.

“I could do lots of things, but I decided it wasn’t worth the hassle for either of us.”

You nodded, watching him unbutton his uniform and sit beside you. Your head immediately finding their way onto his shoulder.

“I’ll pay you back what you paid for the auction.” You promised him.

“You would do no such thing.” He ordered. “You’re worth every pretty penny I’ve paid for tonight.”

You blushed at his words. Even in the years of being with the man, he still has his way of turning you into the girl that had always had a crush on the handsome gruff all only had eyes for you.

Your eyes turned towards your hand, the sparkle of your rings was always present and never once did you remove them even at the party. You wanted to keep your relationship private but never a secret and there are days that you wished to let the world know. But now with his new promotion and you having to lead yet another mission with the help of him now, you doubt it would be a good thing to do.

“You’re too sweet to me sometimes, even after how shitty the night turned out.”

“Nothing shitty about tonight. I get to see you all dressed up and all eyes on you knowing you’re gonna come home to me tonight and do whatever their empty little heads could formulate.”

You rolled your eyes cupping his cheeks and move him slightly too pull him into a kiss that you had desperately wanted to give him all night long. The taste of whiskey brought a sudden thrill through your core.

“Plan on showing it to me, Captain?” You purred and the way his eyes blew out, it was all notification you needed to know as you were unceremoniously lifted into his arms.

Whoever thought your husband had a Captain Kink?

[zepskies]

Lost on You - Part 2

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Supe!Reader

Summary: 1983 is a big year for you. You’re finally chosen to join the ranks of Payback, led by the most (in)famous supe in the world: Soldier Boy. He’ll never admit that he’s trying his damndest to figure you out. You’ll never admit that he’s actually growing on you. But the problem with this game is deciding who’s the predator, and who is prey.

AN: As you can see, I switched up the posting schedule slightly (check out the series masterlist for new "coming soon" dates). Thank you, guys so much for all the responses on Part 1! I hope you have just as much fun with Part 2. 😉

Word Count: 5.9K

Tags/Warnings: "Lies, lies, lies, yeah." ‘80s references, a new mission (and violence), cattiness, and some more cat and mouse tension.  

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Part 2: Foolish Game

“You know, we really are a family here. The whole Payback team,” Crimson Countess said.

Her voice was filled with earnestness as she held the microphone to her ruby red lips with both gloved hands. She smiled and reached out a hand to you.

“But it’s truly my pleasure to welcome Sirena into the fold. It’s about time we got another badass chick on the team, am I right?”

She knew how to play up the packed crowd in the auditorium. They roused with cheers and clapping, and you stepped closer to her in the spotlight.

It wasn’t entirely an act when you gave them (and several cameras) a somewhat shy smile. You’d been on stages almost all your life, but never one like this. You knew you were being seen by the entire country right now.

On Countess’s other side was Soldier Boy and the TNT Twins, while on your side stood Black Noir, Swatto, and Mindstorm keeping himself in the back. Off at the far left of the stage were Arthur and Madelyn Stillwell, both seemingly patient and professional.

“And you look great, hun. I love the new suit,” Countess said, gesturing at you with a playful air.

You smiled a little more and affected some humility. You tried not to adjust the black mask sitting on the bridge of your nose. It felt like a pair of pool goggles.

“Well, a little leather goes a long way,” you joked into your own mic. It earned some laughs from the sea of flashing lights amidst darkness.

Countess laughed, a sultry sound. “I know that’s right.”

“I’m really just so grateful to be here on this incredible stage with you all,” you said, casting a hand at the rest of the team. “I’m just a girl from a dusty little town in Indiana. Seriously. Imagine Smallville, Kansas, but more tumbleweeds.”

Cue more indulgent laughter. The lie was well-rehearsed on your tongue, along with this next bit, as you looked into the closest camera.

“But if you all see some small greatness in me, then I’m honored and ready to serve,” you finished.

Enthusiastic applause met the end of your little speech. You smiled and lowered the mic. Countess nodded in agreement and offered her mic to Soldier Boy next. He stepped up to the center podium and leaned on it like he was John Wayne.

“Well, it’s a good day when another hero joins our ranks. I have a feeling that Sirena,” he paused, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye, “Is gonna be a good fit.”  

You didn’t like that smile on his face, but instead of letting that show on yours, you gave him a grateful smile. He had the gall to wink at you. Then he handed the mic back to Arthur and stepped back from the podium.

“All right, one more time, you guys. Let’s hear it for Sirena!” Arthur said to the crowd, and they erupted. You accepted the praise with a demure smile and a congenial wave, like you were Princess Diana or something.

The rest of your team gave perfunctory claps as well, but Soldier Boy was the first to head off stage. Countess and the rest of them followed suit, so you did as well. She and Soldier Boy didn’t even share a glance when she stopped off into the women’s restroom. An idea struck you, and you decided to join her.

“Hey, Countess,” you began to say, but she let out a humorless huff.

“What, are you going to follow me into the fucking stall?” she said dryly.

You were momentarily taken aback by her acidity. You blinked, and she turned to give you a bored look.

“I…just wanted to say that I really look up to you,” you said.

“Do you?” she asked, with a slightly mocking smile. Her gaze briefly ran down your form. “Is that why your suit looks like a Dollar Store knockoff of mine?”

Ah…okay, you thought. You saw what this bitch was about. She’d supported you in the public eye, but she didn’t actually want another woman on the team. She’d been a powerhouse for over a decade, and not just her years at Vought.

But for every icon, there’s the threat of becoming an old has-been, you thought. 

“Well, you’ve got a point there. I asked for a cape too, but they thought it was a bit too…retro,” you remarked, hinting at a smile as you gestured at her suit, and the long red cape that draped down her back. “But really, I’m a big fan. I actually grew up watching you when I was a kid. I remember that little documentary you did with Vought Geographic. The one with the baby chimps? So cute.”

Countess’s brow twitched, ever so slightly. Both her fake smile and yours remained the same.

She broke first with a roll of her eyes.

“Just stay out of my way,” she said. Her cape brushed your arm as she breezed past you. Your smile remained until she was out of the room. Then you took a deep breath.

Be careful, you reminded yourself. You had to prove that you wouldn’t easily bend to whatever bullshit might get thrown at you, but you were still the rookie here. You had a feeling that this was just the first test of many.

You kept your guard up, even at the afterparty hosted at a nearby hotel. Tessa followed Countess’s lead and gave you fake smiles when you passed by her. Otherwise, she ignored you. Mindstorm was the only one who seemed truly indifferent towards you. (You barely ever saw him out of his room anyway.)

You couldn’t much tell with Black Noir. He’d never taken his helmet off in the few days since you’d met him, but you sensed nothing but vague interest from him. The other three men were more obvious in the way they looked at you.

In fact, you could’ve predicted the way Soldier Boy found you in a slightly quieter corner of the banquet hall. His gait was relaxed and arrogant as he made his way towards you.

He annoyed you on sight, no matter how damn attractive he was. All broad shouldered and brown hair coiffed, his face mostly clean shaven, save for some stubble. With his military green supe suit, the silver decal of an eagle stretched across his broad chest—he certainly looked the part of America’s first hero. Too bad he was also a chauvinistic ass.

But you also had a plan. It had started to form after that first encounter with him in the break room.

You kept your true thoughts off your face as you turned to greet him. He was holding his fifth tumbler of whiskey, and he smelled like it too. You sipped at a glass of red wine.

“Small town girl, huh?” he said, smiling with old-world charm. “I happen to be a city boy.”

“Born and raised in South Detroit?” you teased. “I didn’t take you for a Journey fan.”

“The mean streets of Philly, actually,” he said, with a tip of his imaginary hat. “I may be a Sinatra kind of guy, but I don’t mind a little rock ‘n roll.”

You inclined your head. “Same here. Not that my parents approved. Growing up, I had to hide my Rolling Stones records under the bed.”

That much was true.

“Ah, a little rebel,” he remarked. His gaze roamed down your form, and back up to your eyes, shaded by smokey makeup. “Who knew they made ‘em like you in Indiana.”

Your lips curved. “It’s not just cows and cornfields.”

“Evidently,” he said, taking a swig of his whiskey. “How do you like the big city so far?”

“To be honest, I haven’t had a chance to see much of it yet. This whole thing has been a whirlwind,” you said.

Lie.

The truth was, you were born and raised in Brooklyn. Maybe you had never lived in Manhattan before, but you were no stranger to the city.

Ben not only ate up the lie; he took the bait.

“Maybe I’ll give you a tour of the city one day,” he said. He thumbed at your chin once again with half-gloved fingers.

You tipped your face up to him, and you smiled.

“I’d like that.”

Your first mission with Payback was not at all what you expected.

To start with, you’d expected to do some patrolling, run down some leads, do some investigating. Instead, they had a Surveillance & Security team to do all of that for the team. Plus, they were patched in via the local police scanner of any new crimes in progress.

Arthur had paged you to come to his office. There he told you that you’d actually be going for your first save today. You were excited, until he told you that you’d be on a “team up” with Crimson Countess.

Great, you thought.

She didn’t look happy about it either, when you met her in the lobby downstairs. She gave you another frigid look before she swiftly exited the double doors.

Stay out of my way. You got the message loud and clear.   

A black SUV took you two to the Lower West Side, where there was a robbery in progress. The front window of the jewelry story had been shattered, and tens of thousands of dollars in merchandise stolen by two masked men according to the store clerk. He’d been shot in the shoulder before the men took off. The police had yet to find them.

The most unnerving part of this was the cameras that followed you and Countess while you canvassed the area—like catching criminals was some kind of reality show.

“I think I can feel them,” you said, with your fingers on your temples. “They’re headed south through the alley.”

“Which alley?” she asked, waving a hand at the several blocks ahead of you. “And what do you mean you can feel them?”

You shot her a look, endeavoring not to be snarky. “I can sense them.”

Let’s just say, your powers were particularly potent when it came to men. That’s what allowed you to feel the robbers’ energies, set high with adrenaline. They were close.

You pointed the way, and Countess begrudgingly went along with it.

“Follow my lead though,” she said.

You agreed in the moment, but you were filled with maybe too much anticipation and excitement yourself when you turned the corner into the alley without waiting for your companion.

You found yourself staring down the barrel of a gun.

You froze, your breath stilling in your lungs. The safety clicked, and the man holding the weapon quirked his head.

“Haven’t seen you before,” he drawled.

“But you know me. Don’t you, handsome?”

Countess’s fist landed squarely across the man’s jaw. He yelped as the weapon clattered out of his hand. You jumped back as the gun fired, ricochetting off the brick wall. Countess rolled her eyes and tossed a fireball at the next man, who jumped out of his hiding place behind the dumpster. He screamed and dove to the side.

She didn’t wait for him to recover. Grabbing him by the collar with a gloved hand, she threw one hard punch that broke the man’s jaw. You winced at the telltale cracking sound. The other man just held his hands up in surrender, wide-eyed and afraid. You felt his fear radiating off of him. With another swift punch, she knocked him out as well.

You could only stand there with your mouth open in surprise. You managed to close it when Countess turned your way.

“I told you to follow my damn lead,” she said coolly.

The police filtered in shortly after, as did the camera crew. The director sighed at Countess.

“This was supposed to be Sirena’s first save,” he said. Countess turned to him with a sharp look.

“Train her fucking better then,” she snapped.

You chewed the inside of your lip, but you fought not to outwardly show your embarrassment. Why’d they have to partner you with her, for fuck’s sake?

The car ride back to the Tower was just as tense and silent. At least there was a black partition between you two in the backseat and the driver.

Finally, you sighed and tried to offer an olive branch.

“Look, I’m sorry. I just got a bit excited,” you said.

“You almost got yourself killed,” she drawled, not even looking at you as she gazed boredly out the window. “Even that would’ve been a challenge for the PR team.”

Your lips pursed in irritation. Oh, my God. Is she that insecure?

“Countess, I think we got off on the wrong foot. I’m not trying to replace you. I’m not trying to take anything from you.”

“Except my boyfriend,” she shot back. Finally she turned her head towards you with cool disdain. “You think I didn’t see you flirting with him last night at the afterparty?”   

You rolled your eyes, though you hid a sliver of embarrassment. You should’ve known she’d spot that.

“He approached me, okay?” you said. Maybe you were about to let your pettiness to get the best of you, but you couldn’t help it. You smiled slyly. “And from what I hear, I’m the least of your worries. Looks like Ben has quite the appetite.”

The cracks of Countess’s cool façade finally broke through to anger. She glared at you tightly.

“He may have his little toys, but they never last long,” she said pointedly. “The only reason he’s giving you the time of day is because you’re new, and shiny, and full of silicon.”

“And young,” you added with a wink. “Don’t forget young.”

She seethed, and you were almost concerned that she might toss a fireball your way. Mercifully, the car rolled to a stop in the back entrance to the Tower to make it easier to navigate past any paparazzi. You slid out on your side, and you didn’t bother waiting for Countess when you went back inside the Tower.

All the way back up the elevator to your floor, you thought about the way you’d frozen at the sight of the man’s gun. You did have proper combat training. Your dad had paid for the lessons.

“You’re gonna pay us back one day,” as he’d said. “We’re investing in our future, just as much as yours.”

You shook your head and sighed. You should have grabbed the robber’s arm and reached for any flash of skin you could touch to compel him into submission.

The thought continued to unsettle you as you went into the breakroom first for something to eat. You ended up making yourself a sandwich and sat down at the nearby dining table with an unsweetened tea. Swatto happened to fly in for a coke and an old slice of pizza. When he noticed you, his insect-like wings folded back into his back after he landed on the ground.

Out of everyone, his suit looked the most cumbersome with the big shoulder armor and the condom-like mask over half his face. You understood why he wasn’t wearing it now. He was dressed down in an old Ramones shirt and a pair of jeans. He ran his fingers through his short hair and slid into the chair closest to you.

“Hey. How’s it going, beautiful?” he asked, with what was likely meant to be a charming smile.

You were close enough to sense his salacious thoughts. You restrained a sigh. Ordinarily you’d entertain him a bit more, but frankly, he was making a bad day worse and you weren’t in the mood.

So you smiled. While your hand slid over his on the table, you leaned in close to his ear.

“Shoo, fly,” you said. Your words held power as your eyes glowed violet.

Immediately, you felt the way Swatto’s body sat up straighter. With a blankness falling over his face, he got up from the table and left the way he came, forgetting his snacks on the table.

You shook your head and continued eating your sandwich in peace.

A few minutes later, there came an even rarer sighting—Mindstorm snuck into the breakroom next. He glanced at you with wary eyes, like a deer pausing before it took a drink from the pool. When you just stared at him in slight bewilderment, he quickly rucked through the cupboards for a bag of Bugles labeled:

MINDSTORM’S – DO NOT EAT!

As if anyone would want to steal a bag of Bugles.

Just when you opened your mouth to offer him some kind of greeting, Mindstorm quickly ducked out of the room. You blinked in confusion.

“Odd,” you said to yourself. “So very odd.”

“Right?” came a voice behind you. You screamed and nearly jumped out of your skin, but you realized it was only Black Noir, holding a beer.

“Jesus…” You held a hand over your beating heart. It wasn’t the first time he’d snuck up on you like that. Can this guy wear a bell or something?

“Don’t mind him. He’s got a few dozen screws loose,” said Noir.

Unlike the other two, he was fully suited up. However, he took his helmet off and set it on the table so he could drink. You held in a breath, as you were pleasantly surprised to see the face of a handsome black man. It was the first time you’d ever seen him unmasked.

Wonder what else he’s hiding under there, you thought. Your gaze briefly dipped down his chest and strong-looking thighs.

You both chatted over small things at first. According to Noir, Mindstorm’s apartment was completely soundproof, but it didn’t do much good for the guy, since he had a hard time keeping people’s thoughts out of his head. You thought New York City was probably a terrible place for him to live, in that case.

“And you’re smalltown, right?” Noir asked.

You offered a half-smile. “Guilty.”

“Yeah, same here,” he said, raising his beer. “From a nowhere town in Georgia.”

For the first time, you felt slightly bad for keeping up the lie. Noir seemed like a decent guy so far. You clinked your iced tea with his beer.

“Well, Nowhere, it’s nice to find a kindred spirit,” you said.

You two drank for a bit in a comfortable silence, until he turned to you with curiosity in his dark brown eyes as he took you in. 

“So, what made you want to join Payback? The pay, or the free shit?” he asked.

You quirked a smile. You decided to give him the easiest answer he’d believe.

“Well, the free shit is a big perk. But…as vapid as it sounds, I wanted to get out of the background, make a name for myself,” you said. Noir nodded.

“Believe me, I get it. Around here, it can be hard to stand out,” he said. His brows knitted together while he stared hard at the table. You watched him, wondering what he meant.

After a beat, he perked up and met your gaze. “You know, I’ve been wanting to pitch a movie idea to Arthur.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, just trying to…you know, find the right words.”

Your expression eased, and you crossed your arms and turned towards him.

“Okay, let’s go then,” you said, waving at him in a bring it on gesture.

Noir’s brows popped up. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, why not?” you said. “Give me your best elevator pitch.”

Black Noir stood up from the table, nearly knocking over his empty beer bottle as he went. You grabbed it so it wouldn’t tip over. You were amused by his slightly flustered state. He set his hands on his hips and couldn’t quite meet your eyes when he started speaking.

“So, I’m thinking it could be like 48 Hours meets Trading Places. Except instead of a wise-cracking criminal or a guy down on his luck, I’m like, a wise-cracking ninja.”

“But ninjas don’t typically talk, do they?” you said. Clearly this guy had a thing for Eddie Murphy. “Aren’t they supposed to be stealthy?”

Noir raised a finger. “Okay, yes, but it’s a comedy. So that’s the ironic part, in a funny way.”

“So you’ll make witty quips before you kill your targets?” you said, holding in a laugh. You brandished an invisible sword. “‘You’re gonna need a new carpet.’ Fshh.”

You mimed a cutting motion, then blood spraying from your neck as you made some mock death throes. Noir stared at you blandly. You bit your lip.

And you were the first one to break with a laugh. The sound was infectious enough to break him too though. Noir couldn’t help but shake his head and chuckle along with you.

You were almost too distracted to hear a pair of heavy boots, and sense the male presence at the door. You turned at the flash of green in the corner of your eye.

Of course, the cast wouldn’t be complete without Soldier Boy. Or Ben, as he’d insisted you call him.

His gaze roamed the room with feigned disinterest, but you could tell when he looked over at you and Noir that he wasn’t pleased. He clung to stoicism as he approached your table with his usual gait: calm, controlled, and arrogant.

“What’s going on in here?” he asked with a raise of his brow. “Could hear you all the way down the hall.”

“Just working on a pitch for Noir’s new movie,” you said, though the man in question gave you a hard stare. One that warned you to stop talking.

“Noir’s new movie?” Ben said, with a curl of his lip. He turned to the other man. “Trying to compete with Red Thunder before it’s even out in the box office? That’s not very good form.”

“No, no. Of course not,” said Noir. “Just…throwing some ideas around.”

“Oh, yeah, I heard. Some kind of samurai bullshit,” Ben said dryly. His green-eyed gaze was sharp, however. “Why don’t you stop wasting people’s time on tragic fucking ideas, and find something actually fucking useful to do.”

You watched carefully between the two men. Was there some kind of bad blood here?

Noir’s lips pursed, but despite the spark of anger in his eyes, he kept it all inside when he lowered them. He got up from the table and left without another word, putting on his helmet as he went.

Ben shook his head and drew closer to you. You frowned up at him as you stood and crossed your arms below your breasts.

“Well, that wasn’t very kind,” you remarked.

“This is the real world, sweetheart. He still needs to learn his place on this team,” Ben replied. But then, his charm was back. His face eased into a smile. “I’m glad I found you. It’s time I made good on my promise.”

You tilted your head. “What promise?”

“To take you out,” he said. “Give you a little tour of the city.”

After that little display, you had even less interest to spend any more time with this man than absolutely necessary…

Remember the plan, you reluctantly reminded yourself.

“Come on,” he prodded, extending a hand out to you. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

Releasing a breath, you uncrossed your arms and slipped your hand into his.

“Okay. I would appreciate you showing me around,” you said, giving him a smile with some feminine charm of your own.

His lips curved into a grin. He raised your hand up to his lips, and despite yourself, his stubble ignited small tingles across your skin.

“Meet me downstairs in half an hour,” he said.

After taking the time to change out of your supe suit and into something dressier, reapplying your makeup and fixing up your hair, you met Ben downstairs out front. He was waiting for you there on a motorcycle, of all things.

“Really?” you asked, giving the vehicle a dubious look. “I thought you’d be a limo kind of guy.”

“Oh, I am. But today we need speed if we’re going to cover the whole city,” he said with a grin. He revved the engine, and it let out a loud, rumbling sound. It looked like a death trap.  

“I don’t know, Ben,” you said, for the first time using his name. You were actually nervous enough to show it.

He chuckled and motioned you over. Reluctantly, you went to him. His hand smoothed down your arm and held your elbow. He peered into your eyes.

“You think I’m going to let you fall on my watch?” he said. 

You held his gaze. Eventually, you bit your lower lip, and you accepted his offer of a helmet (even though he was going without one), then his helping hand to climb onto the motorcycle behind him. You tentatively held onto his waist.

“That ain’t gonna cut it, baby doll,” he said. He grabbed your hands and tugged you closer, until your arms wrapped around his middle. You made a small sound of surprise, feeling the solidness of his frame. You had a feeling he was grinning.

“All right, hold on,” he warned, revving the engine once again.

Your teeth clenched with dread. “Please, go slooow—ahhh!”

Ben peeled out of the curved landing in front of Vought Tower with a screech of tires. You gripped onto his jacket like a lifeline and pressed yourself to his back as closely as you could—something you were sure was his intention.

You sensed his amusement, though he at least had the decency not to laugh at you. He merged onto the street and zipped through the layers traffic, heading towards the center of the city.

Ben didn’t just show you the city. He showed you his world.

He first took you to Top of the Rock at Rockefeller Center. Instead of the normal group tour to the observational deck, he had a short chat with management that had them letting you two up to an even higher level, into an exclusive bar. It was apparently so high up that only twenty people could be inside at a time.

You two enjoyed a couple of drinks along with the amazing view of the city, and of Empire State across the way.

“You don’t get views like this in Indiana, do you?” Ben asked.

You nodded indulgently. “You do not.”

Never mind that you had never even been to Indiana. Yet, you had also never seen the city like this either.

“Thank you for taking me out like this,” you said. You reached out and softly touched his hand. You met his eyes with a subtle smile. “I didn’t know what to expect when I got here, but you’ve been really nice to me. Makes me think I can actually belong here.”

He seemed pleased as he sipped his drink, brushing his thumb over the back of your hand.

“What can I say? I’m a nice guy,” he said.

You smiled, affecting demure as you ducked your head. It was an act you’d long ago perfected. Men tended to underestimate you, and you always used that to your advantage.

From there, he took you to clubs you’d never even knew existed, then to a restaurant so old, it still had a dress code. (And it was the best surf and turf you’d ever had in your life.)

When you got to Times Square, however, you were delayed practically an hour by all the fans who wanted Soldier Boy’s autograph. Once the first couple of young women recognized him, even out of his suit, it was all downhill as more and more people got excited by the world’s most famous superhero.

You stood off to the side, watching him be flirtatious to women of all ages, ruffling kids’ hair, and shaking hands with men, and even veterans who thanked him for his service.

You signed a couple of autographs and took some pictures with people yourself, but you knew you wouldn’t be recognized as much. You had to be content with waiting for Ben off to the side. Though admittedly, you were getting bored and more than a little annoyed that he was taking so long.

He seemed to realize it when he finally looked your way.

“Hey, Sirena!” he called out to you by your supe name, drawing your attention in front of a few of his fans. He waved you over, and even introduced you to the small crowd still gathered around him. He set a hand on your lower back.

“I’m sure you all know about Sirena, the newest member of our team,” he said. You looked up at him with some measure of gratefulness. Maybe this part of the day was working in your favor even more than you’d thought.

You intentionally leaned closer to him, laying a semi-innocent hand on his arm as you smiled at the others.

“I’m taking some time to show her around,” he continued, glancing down at you. “She’s from a small town, so this city can be pretty daunting. But it’s my home. My favorite place in the world. Especially because I get to see all of you.”

He swept a hand out towards the crowd, and they ate it up with cheers, clapping, and some flirtatious whistling. He shot a wink and a raised finger at that one.

“If you’ll excuse us,” he said, with one last parting hand at the people. He ushered you back onto the motorcycle, and off you went.

He was trying his damndest.

He wore that fake, debonair charm like a second skin as he got you a private tour of the Met, and treated you to rich food and expensive wine. He was showing off his wealth, his fame, and giving you the “best” of him.

However, you had already seen glimpses of the true man underneath the gaudy show. And it was ugly, with an edge of darkness.

You had that thought in the back of your mind, even while you two sat side by side on a ledge. He’d brought you to a spot near the Hudson River, close to an overpass. It wasn’t an area meant for parking (according to the No Parking sign), but he didn’t seem to care.

Neither did you, really. The view was too beautiful, with the large orange sun halfway sunk below the water. It cast shades of yellow and red and purple across the sky, even over the dark waters.   

Ben was working on his third hotdog. You were licking your way around a scoop of cookies and cream ice cream on a waffle cone, letting the end of it swirl off your tongue. You resisted a smile, feeling the warmth of his gaze on the side of your face.

“So tell me,” he said, after he finished off his snack. He crumpled his napkin and tossed it somewhere behind him. “I heard you were making a name for yourself as a singer. What made you want to join Payback?”

He was giving you a little too much credit. You’d been making your money by being a background singer for various artists, but your last big break going on Whitney Houston’s latest tour was what finally put you on Vought’s map.

You considered his question with a tilt of your head. Black Noir had asked you the same thing, more or less. You’d given him an easy, predictable answer. With Ben, you edged closer to the truth...or part of it, anyway.   

“I don’t just want people to know who I am,” you said. “I want to be remembered for something good. I want to prove it to my family too, that I can do it. …Is that naïve?”

Ben hummed in understanding, though he shot you a certain look.

“Not if you play your cards right,” he said. 

His leading tone didn’t surprise you. You slid him a smile. 

“And how should I do that?” you asked. You turned to him, setting your finished cone aside. Ben took the opportunity to reach out and draw a line down your cheek with his thumb. He wiped a small smear of chocolate from the corner of your mouth. 

He smirked. “By sticking close to me, baby doll.”

You had to admit, his proximity was stirring you more than you liked. He was devastatingly handsome, and he knew it too. With his face inching so close to yours, it was hard for you to remember the things this man had said about you to Arthur, how he clearly didn’t give a fuck about Countess, and even what a dick he'd been to Black Noir.

Not to mention, how he acted all the time, as if the whole world was his.

Just as his lips neared yours, you leaned back. Your eyes met his knowingly.

“You already have someone close to you,” you pointed out. “What about Countess?”

Ben stilled. He sighed, but he didn’t let go of your cheek. He traced your jawline with the sensuous promise of a practiced hand. It made your breath difficult in your lungs, rising into your throat.

“Ah, Donna,” he shook his head. “We’ve been on the rocks for a while now.”

I’m sure, you thought wryly.

“What you and I have, right here, right now,” he said, leaning in to press a lingering kiss to your cheek. “It’s special. The moment I saw you, a pure connection.”

Your brows furrowed. Those words triggered some kind of familiarity in you. A pure connection…

Wait, isn’t that a line from one of his movies? you thought. Oh yeah, A Gentleman’s Promise. 1949.

You had to bite your lip to stifle your laughter. This man did not just quote himself.

Ben took your reaction for a different kind of inner conflict, as he continued pressing tantalizing kisses down your neck. You cleared your throat a little, fighting a sigh of pleasure.

Stick to the plan, you thought.

Because he was right. The fastest way for you to get what you wanted was to be close to him, to use his status to your advantage. Timing was everything, however.  

You slipped your hands between you two and pressed gently, but firm against his chest.

“Ben,” you implored.

You were grateful that he actually stopped. His lips stilled against your skin, and he pulled away with a frown.

“What?” he said.

You looked up at him through your lashes, before you leaned in, stopping just shy of his lips.

“Maybe I’ll consider your offer when there’s a real place for me by your side,” you said with a smile. Then you backed off.

You gathered yourself and stood, coyly sauntering back to the motorcycle. You’d wait for him there.

Ben turned to watch you go, unwilling to admit he was both equally aroused and irritated. His jaw clenched, then eased.

After a moment, he joined you and drove you back to the Tower in silence. All the while, he couldn’t stop thinking. About your lips, your eyes, your voice, your soft body, your smile, and worst of all, the way you’d denied him. For fuck’s sake, you’d given him an ultimatum.

He couldn’t remember the last time someone had that kind of audacity, let alone a woman. He wouldn’t let show, or even admit to himself, how much it affected him. But the same thought kept turning through his mind as the streets of New York passed by in a blur.

Just who the fuck does she think she is?

AN: 😅 Lol Ben's got his work cut out for him. Think he'll be able to figure out her game?

Next Time:

“What’s in it for me then?” he asked, crossing his arms.

You blinked your eyes wider. Really?

“I doubt whatever you’re thinking, Soldier,” you said, a little more snidely than you meant to.

Ben's cocky smile said it all.

Your lips pursed in exasperation. You hadn’t thought you would have to bargain to get him to be nice to a kid. 

“Okay, I’m sorry. Clearly you’ve had a long day, so I’ll just get out of your way,” you said, raising your hands in surrender. You turned to leave.

“All right, don’t get your panties in a twist,” he said.

You paused at the door, tossing him an annoyed look over your shoulder.

His smile deepened. “I’ll do it.”

His steps were measured as he approached you. You turned back to face him, albeit warily. As he seemed to like doing, he gently grasped your chin between his fingers.

“I’ll do it for a kiss,” he said.

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 3

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[heartpiratedrabbles]

Marital Problems

Prompt: "Open your mouth for me baby..."

NSFW

Katakuri X Fem Reader

         You were sitting looking out the window at the upcoming tea party that Big Mom was going to host. It was nerve-wracking being around your mother-in-law but as time went on, you had learned how to avoid her gaze and orders. You had been sold off for marriage in exchange for protection of your kingdom. You’re rather certain the deal had went haywire when you’re father kept making demands but thankfully at that point you had been long since married to your husband and Big Mom didn’t seem to care as long as you didn’t cause any problems.

         All things being said you really didn’t mind, being the wife of the Minister of Flour had its perks and everyone in town knew you. It was only times when Big Mom called her children for a tea party and thus their spouses that your nerves became a wreck. You’re wedding had been about a year ago, it was the most you had seen of your husband since he had a whole week off afterwards. Ever since though he had barely spent a day with you, sometimes coming in at night to check on you before disappearing to God knows where.

         It’s not that you were on bad terms with Katakuri, he did often make some time to spend an hour or two with you every now and then but you had never seen him relax. And despite being married for over a year now, you had yet to consummate the marriage. Not that it had truly mattered to you, but it was rather embarrassing when the person who’s supposed to be your husband walks in on you taking care of yourself. His mysterious personality and towering figure certainly gave you enough to fantasize about, but as luck would have it, your husband must’ve had a steel resolve, often just muttering a sorry for interrupting before leaving you frustrated.

         It also didn’t help that Daifuku and Oven’s wives had gotten pregnant recently, both of whom had gotten married within the same month as you and Katakuri. The mixture of sexual frustration, baby fever, and wife talks had slowly made you more forward in your wants.

         Katakuri. Your husband. Your husband. Had yet to even touch you. Even at the wedding, he had leaned in close, but he had kept that damned scarf on, something you had thought was strangely cute for your shy yet powerful husband, but now had been a daunting reminder of how closed off he still was. “Are you ready Y/N?” Katakuri’s voice rang in your ears snapping you out of your daze. You turn around to where he was standing at the door, hand outreached for you to follow him.

         “Of course, dear.” You smiled walking next to him, he gently placed a hand on your shoulder and squeezed lightly, “Guard duty again?” He hums in response before escorting you to your seat.

~~~

         You slightly jab at the cake in front of you, this was meant to be a social event but you couldn’t help to stare at how doting Oven was to his wife. Even Daifuku had come along with a small gift before leaving and now you were in the mindless conversations again of the girls first nights with their husbands. Talks of how thair own husbands made it worth their while. You often talked of how you adored Katakuri yourself but always fell short when it came to intimate details, most of the time they just thought you shy on the matter. As their talks became more detailed you couldn’t help but fantasize about your ever-absent husband.

         The thought of him finally losing control, picking you up and throwing you on the bed. Ripping your clothes off with his hands before finally removing his scarf to ravish your body. Leaving marks all the way up and down your body as you breathlessly moan for more.

You imagine how it would feel to be pushed to your knees as he sat in front of you, his cock right in front of you to enjoy. You wondered how he’d react when you lick the tip, before slowly leaving a trail of saliva on the underside before making your way back up to purse your lips around his throbbing member. How he'd demand you to finally take him in your mouth.

“Open your mouth for me baby…” You jump at your husband’s voice right in your ear, your face becoming the deepest shade of red it had ever been and a slight gasp that sounded closer to a moan escapes your lips. You look over to see where your husband had been holding a fork full of cake for you, not realizing what the words he said had done to you. You could hear the other wives chuckling at your reaction but pushed the thoughts aside as you slowly opened your mouth to be fed. “I noticed you hadn’t eaten anything this entire time, are you feeling sick?”

Oh. You’re poor, oblivious husband. He doesn’t realize just how much of a pervert he married to be fanaticizing about such things in front of most of his family, “I’m alright babe… just. Tired.” He looks down at you quizzically before glancing over at the giggling wives for context.

“Oh I’m sure she’s tired.”

“Probably just imagine your guy’s first night together. It must’ve been a doozy with how she refuses to tell us anything,”

“She’s always daydreaming about you but never gives us the details!” Their giggling continued and you shot up from your chair as your embarrassment rises.

“I uh. Gotta go, I’ll meet you back home” You say quickly, escaping the social interaction as you head back to a ship that would take to Flour Town. You could hear them continue to talk about how much you adore him but are too shy for your own good and quicken your pace.

~~~

         You rush back to your room the second you had gotten home. The ride back had been awkward and let your mind stew over everything and it had all only wrapped around back to you wanting more from your husband. You pace back and forth, knowing Katakuri he’d probably just think you had a small fever, but what had they said to him after you left?

You groan before flopping onto the bed, you had chosen this one specifically because it was large enough for Katakuri to starfish on and still have room for you, but since the purchase it had only ever been used by you. Your mind thinks back to the words he said. “Open your mouth for me baby,” his deep voice penetrated your mind as you let your imagination go back to your previous fantasy.

You close your eyes fully immersing yourself as you slip one hand under your shirt while the other wraps around your jaw, thumb on your lip. You imagine it as Katakuri’s hand, despite the obvious size distant and slowly open your mouth. You imagine the look on Katakuri’s face as you let his thumb push down on your tongue as you glance up, opening your jaw further. You’d imagine he swear under his breath before pushing more fingers in your mouth, you happily wrapping your lips around them.

The thought of his breath hitching as you suck, all the while he slowly pumps his finger in and out, feeling your tongue wrap around them. You moan into the feeling as he shoves his fingers deeper, scissoring them apart before pulling them out completely. The imagine of a string of saliva still connected from your lips to his fingers before he flips you onto your stomach and propping your ass up slightly. Slowly circling the wet finger between your folds, ignoring how wet you already are.

The moan that escapes your lips as you try to grind back, hoping for his digits to intrude. Begging slightly for anything before feeling them slowly enter you, working their way deeper. You rock your hips as the fingers pump in and out, widening you, as his thumb played with your clit. You cry out his name wanting more.

And that’s when you hear it. Stopping your own ministrations and bringing your fantasy to a fast halt. Your eyes snapping open but not seeing much as your face was pressed into the bed. You quickly remove your hands from under your clothes, quickly flipping over to sit on the bed while grabbing the blanket to hide your shame as you look at the man in front of you. Your own husband, whom was leaning against a bed post was staring at you with something in his eyes, and while you had adjusted yourself to sit facing him, you were avoiding eye contact. His arms were crossed and you could see his fingers digging into his arms and his eyes bore into you waiting for a response.

“Y/N,” His voice cooed out and it sent your nerves flying as he leaned over you, “Is this why you left the tea party early?” He slowly reaches a hand out to wrap around your wrist, pulling it the blanket would stop covering you. Your thighs were pressed together, slightly rubbing against each other.

You stayed silent, he has never reacted this way to walking in on you, he’d always leave as quickly as he had entered. But this time, it seemed as though he was watching you when you finally opened your eyes. His voice was slower and more stern and it was making you crazy. “Is it true what they said?” You give him a quizzical look before realizing just how close he was to you, the fur on his scarf practically brushing against you, “That you absolutely adore me? And can’t wait to have ‘mini’ me’s running around?”

Your eyes widen as you try to stammer something out but are too tongue tied to let even a single comprehensible word escape your lips and he leans back amused at your reaction. You finally take a deep breathe before coming to a resolve and looking at him dead on, “You’re my husband Katakuri, of course I adore you. I vowed to stay with you for the rest of my life and I meant it. I may have been brought here as an arranged marriage but there wasn’t a second that I would change how things ended up.” You can hear him take a deep breath himself but remain silent, “Well… I would change one thing…” You break your eye contact, slowly tracing your eyes down toward his pants before snapping them back up.

“Bloody hell Y/N.” He finally breathes out before sitting down next to you. Your eyes widen a bit, seeing him sitting is new, different. He’s still towering over you but it’s the first time you’ve seen your husband actually sit he grabs both your shoulders and moves you to face him. “I’ve never touched you because I thought you wouldn’t want it-“

“That’s ridiculous! I want all of you. You can’t imagine how much I want you Katakuri,” You reply and you ball up your fists in frustration. “I know you have this ‘must be perfect’ thought process but I love you regardless. I don’t care about any of you so called imperfections. You’re perfect in your own right and I wish you’d relax around me. In fact, I hope I’m the only person you can let your guard down around because that means I can just monopolize who you are to myself.” You huff out your haphazard confession, crossing your arms and looking away.

One of Katakuri’s hand leaves your shoulder and you see him placing it over his already covered face, obscuring the slight tint that had risen on his upper cheeks, his own eyes averting their gaze away from you. With a couple of seconds, he sighs and looks at you again. “Before we go farther, I have to show you something,” He puts his hand up to his scarf, “If you change your mind. It’s okay.” He whispers the last part in a voice so vulnerable you didn’t think it was from your husband for a second.

You scoff at the idea of changing your mind but just nod in response to him as he pulls his scarf down. He refuses to look at you as you see the lower half of his face for the first time. The scars that had peaked out from the scarf stretching down to either side of his wide mouth with 4 sharp fangs poking out from his lips. You reach a hand up to touch his cheek and you feel him shudder slightly underneath the touch, you run your thumb over his bottom lip, before running into one of his teeth, pulling down on the lip to reveal a sharp row of teeth underneath.

Katakuri clearly was not expecting this type of reaction from you as he froze under your touch, only his eyes moving to studying your face before you look up at him with a smile. “You can finally kiss the bride!” you teasingly say waiting for him to process your words.

You decide to take the lead and sit up to lean in closer, stopping just inches away from his lips. “You’d only be a year late to it~” both your hands on either side of his face as you look in his eyes. He seems to finally come to terms with your choice and hesitantly leans in to kiss you.

It’s soft and weak, and for the first time since being married you felt a desire that you couldn’t stop yourself to control. You snake one of your hands around his shoulder while the other travels behind his head to tug at his hair, deepening the kiss.

You lick his lips and he parts his, the sloppy first kiss of your husband. You stop at the realization, leaning back for a second to catch your breath as the further implications of your sheltered shy husband opening up to you entails. Your thoughts turn into hungry desire as you go back in for another slopping kiss, adjusting your legs to be wrapped around his waist, sitting on top of him.

Katakuri is finally able to push you back for a second, you catching your breath as his eyes meet yours, “Is there anything else I missed in the first year?” His implications were clear enough for you and made you groan in desire.

You immediately grind your hips down, feeling the growing bulge underneath you as you go to push off his vest. Only leaning away from your husband as you rip the dreaded scarf off his head entirely before peppering his cheeks and lips with kisses, “You have no idea how much I’ve wanted you~” you moan out.

You can feel your husband chuckle as he pushes your shirt up and over your head, “Oh I think I saw it often enough to have some sort of idea” He rubs your thighs with his hands, “I was standing there for quite some time Y/N” He leaned down to whisper right into your ear. He pushes you back onto the bed, ripping his gloves off before gently grabbing your jaw, his thumb pressing against your lips, “I believe it was something like this?” He questions rather confidently as you open your mouth, realizing just how big his hands really are. You flick your tongue at his thumb before wrapping your lips around it, sucking on the appendage.

He watches you closely as you reach down to remove yourself of your shorts, slightly bobbing your head. You struggle to get your shorts off an ankle and Katakuri helps by ripping the clothing off the rest of the way, leaving you fully bare. He hovers his hand above you for a second, hesitation, “Tell me if I hurt you alright love?” You moan around his thumb nodding before he gingerly circles around your entrance, pushing his digit in slightly.

His singular finger is so much thicker than what you would have imagined and moan at the intrusion. Katakuri takes his thumb away from your warm mouth and caressed your body, moving from your waist to your stomach, ghosting over your breasts. Lightly squeezing whenever he pleases.

A second finger presses in to you and you roll your hips wanting more, the stretching feeling better than nothing but your lust-filled mind needing more. You groan out your husband’s name as he curls his finger, hitting a bundle of nerves. At the sudden shudder of your body Katakuri removes his hands sitting back with concern in his eyes.

“Katakuri~ Please. I need you” You moan, grabbing his wrist, bringing his wet fingers to your lips, “I want you inside me, I felt good” You give him puppy dog eyes as you lick your own slick off him and you see him blink, taking his time to process the scene in front of him.

You quickly move to sit back up, placing a hand on Katakuri’s shoulder gently shoving him, knowing full well he wouldn’t budge if he didn’t want to. He blinks for a second before slowly laying back to watch what you’ll do next. You take a deep breath and undo his buckle, glancing up to see him intently staring.

A blush rises on your cheek as you look back at what’s in front of you, quickly unzipping his pants. You can see the rather large bulge peaking through his boxers and you take a second before slowly reaching to release his length. It’s larger than you could have expected and you’re filled with a sudden desire and dread.

Determination fills your mind and you give his tip a small kiss before slowly taking him in your mouth. Your jaw having to widen much more than you’d wish but the groan above you fills you with more pleasure. You rub your thighs as you slowly bob your head, feeling how wet you are.

You realize just how empty you feel and with a pop you remove your mouth, moving up so his dick caresses your entrance. Your rock back and the forth, his cock twitching at the warmth and Katakuri curses a bit before gently grabbing your hips. You look down to see him panting beneath you, his eyes lidded over. You raise your hips, leaning down to aim his top right at your entrance, the gentle prod encouraging you.

You slowly sink down, the tip stretching to make you moan, you move your hands to his chest to help prop you up as you feel the slight burn of stretch. Rocking up and down slowly, getting use to more and more until it becomes too much. Your breath hitches at how full you feel. This is what you’ve wanted for so long but you can’t imagine taking any more.

A groan of pain escapes your lips as you try to take more of his lips and you immediately feel Katakuri’s grip tighten, lifting you slightly and pulling you to his chest, “You don’t have to force yourself Y/N.” One hand moves to your hair, the other wrapping around your back, “This is more than enough for now.” His voice purrs in your ears but you just pout in his chest.

“I want all of you though,” You moan into his chest, rocking on what length is already in you, only being stopped by the firm arm wrapped around you.

“We can work on that later, no need to hurt yourself in the meantime,” He pumps his hip slowly, not going too deep and your mind flutters at the thought of doing this more often. He kisses the top of your head and you moan at this being tenderly loved feeling. Soon enough you can feel the pressure build and you moan for Katakuri. You lean up to kiss him, to which he gladly obliges and without thinking you cum yourself, rotating your hips to carve into your mind just how full you feel in the moment.

You catch your breath for a second as he pulls out of you and you hear him sigh with content in his voice, although you notice he himself hadn’t climaxed yet. “Katakuri…” You look up at him, grinding down unto his still hard member.

“I’m more than happy with how things are for now Y/N. No need to do anything else,” He kisses you gingerly but you groan dissatisfied.

“Don’t say that… I want to make you feel good too,” You wiggle out of his embrace, “Let me do this at least,” You grab his member, giving it a few good few pumps before readjusting, crossing your legs with his members between your thighs. “It’s not the same, but I hope it will make you feel good” You mutter while glancing back up at him whose blush is more evident. He gives you a tentative nod before thrusting his hips again.

Soon enough his own orgasm comes, his arms pulling you closer as streams of white shoot out onto your thighs. The feeling of having your thighs fucked making you feel impossibly empty the entire time but also still feeling pride in hearing your husbands breathy groans alongside feeling the squeezes to you breasts and hips.

“How do you feel?” You lean your head back into Katakuri, glancing up at his face with a smile. He’s still catching his breath before looking down with you.

“Amazing,”  He shifts to hold you bridle style as he stands up, “Why don’t we get cleaned up now?” He asks while heading to the bathroom, a glint in his eye that implies he’s not finished for the day.

[chris-prank]

Yandere Hunter x GN reader

Peace-Pocalypse Part 1

CW: Manipulative behavior, Obsession, Mention of kidnaping, Implication of murder and mention of blood

(This is a work of fiction for entertainment purposes only, I do not support yandere behaviors in real life)

This guy is more of the soft dominante type, so yay no subby yandere this time.

･*:.｡..｡.:*･*:.｡..｡.:*･

🪓 It was surprisingly peaceful for a post apocalyptic world and Martin liked it that way. He found it to be similar to the far west, but with modern technologies. 

🪓 Most big cities were destroyed, only leaving behind small villages secluded from each other. Between them were miles and miles of luscious nature. Pretty but dangerous for solitary travelers. 

🪓 You were one of these adventurers, going place to place to create new connections. That’s when you ended up at a village called Flowermore. The name was fitting since there were flower fields all around it. 

🪓 When you arrived, you instantly became an oddity for the townsfolk, since they didn’t get to see new faces often. 

🪓 You were just another stranger for Martin, nothing extraordinary, at the very least he was even a bit wary of you. Flowermore was a peaceful place, where a real community created itself, but that didn't mean people outside were the same. That’s until he got to talk to you and not just eavesdrop on conversations you had with the people of the town. This encounter happened after two weeks of you staying at Flowermore and of him watching you from afar.

🪓 Martin lived a bit outside of town, in a forest nearby. He was a hunter, meaning he took care of bringing meat to the village and he would often leave for multiple days or weeks– hunting animals was not his only line of work, but he kept that a secret. 

🪓 It would be a lie to say that you didn’t notice him when you first arrived and that you didn’t thought he looked cool. He seemed like an interesting guy with the scars on his face and his attire making him look like a pirate. You were so enthusiastic when you got to talk to him for the first time. 

🪓 Martin thought you were so cute while he listened to all your questions, notebook in hand. He could stare at your amazed face all day if he had the opportunity. In addition, he was truly invested in the stories of your own life, contributing to them to make the conversation last longer. 

🪓 Martin wondered how a bubbly thing like you survived alone all this time. Not that he considered you weak, just that it looked so easy to gain your sympathy. He was glad that no one seemed to have taken advantage of you until now. 

🪓 The more he spended time by your side, the more he could feel his feelings grow stronger. Maybe a bit too much. 

🪓 After a month, he asked if you wanted to crash at his place for the rest of your stay. Saying that you could sleep in his bed and he could use his couch. He totally wasnt hoping that you would feel bad and offer him to join you in bed.

🪓 “It's really no problem for me darlin’ and I can sleep anywhere really. At least that way I'll have the chance to show you more of my skills.”

🪓 You were a bit unsure by this offer at first, the thought of living with him was making you all flustered, but you ultimately said yes. 

🪓 Martin soon started to note down in his journal every time you mentioned something you liked.  Once, while he was in a ghost town, he found a cassette of your favorite singer. He relishes the huge smile you made when you saw the gift. 

🪓 He could also feel himself melting in his combat boots when you played it and started dancing. Watching your body sway like that was making his mind go into overdrive. The indent of his grip on the couch was proof of that. 

🪓 If one of your favorite animals happens to be a species that lives in the surrendering area, be sure that he will find a way to capture one for you (without harming it of course.) 

🪓 Martin is not very a plant guy, but he will ask the apothecary of the village what your favorite flower looks like so he can go pick some for you.

🪓 If you’re down for it, he’ll show you how to hunt small animals, by using his crossbow or by putting traps in place. He positions himself behind you, his hands going from your shoulders to your wrist to readjust your posture. 

🪓 “Yay, just like that darling. You’re doing so well.” His face was so close to yours, as he whisper tenderly in your ear, that you almost feel his lips ghosting your skin. 

🪓 Is this just his method of getting closer to you in more ways than one? Maybe, but at the same time he is teaching you crucial survival skills! So he doesn’t feel too guilty about it. 

🪓 Seeing you and Martin spend all of your time together, armless rumors spread around. Could you really blame them? Gossiping was one of the rare sources of entertainment these townsfolk had. You tried to ignore it or just straight up tell people that you were just friends. 

🪓 Martin wasn't bothered by this, that's for sure. When people asked about the two of you, he would respond in the most vague way possible, fueling the imagination of everyone.

🪓 “Mm them? Oh you know how it is… we get closer everyday.~” 

🪓 One day, when he heard from one of the elders that you were planning on leaving, it’s like his whole world was falling apart. You couldn’t leave him, especially after all this time! At this point, you two were literally living like a couple! And weren’t you happy by his side?! 

🪓 “I heard you were leavin’ soon…At least you had a good time with me, right sweetin’ ?”

🪓 Behind his unbothered words, he was trying his hardest not to lock you up in his cottage. He had the strength to do so, but he knew you would hate him if he did. The idea of you disliking him was worse than death, so he decided on a more subtle approach. 

🪓 Martin had a lot of connections outside of Flowermore, some that he wouldn’t want you or anyone else to know of. He ended up asking some guys who were indebted to him to scare you a little. The plan was to fake a bandit ambush when you would be outside the village surroundings. 

🪓 Now, he just had to wait for you to come back to him and act shocked at the sight of your crying face. You can bet that if any of these guys went too far during the attack, he will definitely make them regret their life decisions. 

🪓 “Aw darlin’ I’m so sorry, it must have been horrible! Come here, let me give you a hug.”

🪓 Despite the traumatic experience, you kept telling him that you were determined to continue your travels. That one bad occurrence shouldn’t discourage you from trying again. 

🪓 Oh, how Martin admired your courage and dedication, so much that he could have kissed you right then and there. But in the time being your motivation was going against his plans. He tried to play the reasonable one, using his deep soothing voice while arguing with you. 

🪓 He finally convinced you to settle here by saying that you could just come with him every time he had businesses out of town. That way you could still travel (and he could keep an eye on you.) On top of that, the winter season was rapidly approaching and it wouldn’t be wise to travel by foot in these extreme temperatures. 

🪓 You slowly started to notice how much more protective he had become over you, but you figured it was just out of concern since the attack. You were a bit sad to not be able to explore like you used to, but it’s true that it was nice to have a more stable life. 

🪓 When the snow came by, it truly changed the scenery of the town. Since the end of the apocalypse, winter has become way more magical. You felt like you were in these cheap Christmas postcards just by taking a stroll in town. 

🪓 The cold was a completely different story though. It was so intense that even with the fireplace you still had to wear several layers of clothing around the house. It was one of the cons of living in an old cottage. 

🪓 One evening, you were wrapped in a hand-knitted blanket made with real sheep's wool. The good quality material weighed on your shoulders and gave your body much-needed warmth. You stared out the window and into the distance, your eyes focusing on nothing in particular. 

🪓 Suddenly a black dot appeared between the trees and seemed to grow bigger each second. It was Martin, probably coming back from hunting. Your speculation ended up correct, because the moment his features became more visible you could see the striking contrast of red on his brown clothes. 

🪓 You ran to the door and opened it for him. The man flashed you a subtle grin and with heavy steps he crossed the threshold of the door. Despite the blood, it was endearing to see him covered in snow, his shoulder length hair covered with bits of frost and his cheek burned from the cold wind. 

🪓 After he had taken off his now soiled coat, he took you into his arms and lifted you off the ground. He nuzzled his face into your neck, his beard scratching your skin. The lack of dead prey to be seen on the ground made you think that it had maybe ran away despite successfully harming it. Martin always came back home feeling down when that happened. 

🪓 When he spoke up his voice was low, almost sleepy.

🪓 “I need help to recharge, d’you think you could do that for me ?”

🪓 You cuddled for the rest of the night. Despite feeling a tad of frustration that he always seemed to find the right excuse to make you stay in Flowermore, you couldn’t deny how good it felt to fall asleep in his arms. 

･*:.｡..｡.:*･*:.｡..｡.:*･

So this was my terrible attempt at writing an accent that's not even in my native language... If you guys have any tip to make it better/realistic, don't hesitate to comment!

These two drawing of him are from last year, but I still kinda like them, so here they are!

[frogchiro]

Your latest Butcher!Simon post is haunting me, specifically the contrast you drew between Simon's fantasy of Y/N bred and baking and the implied openness and sunshine with the image, and then him retreating to his "small apartment" and "old rickety cot" to go feral fucking his hand. Like.. Damn. I had to set my phone down and go make some tea to stop feeling so flustered lmao. 10/10, gold stars all around.

ALL THAT TO SAY... After they've gotten together, Simon and Y/N choosing to stay at the apartment rather than go back to their shared house because it's storming too badly, and Simon ending the evening of railing Y/N by letting her ride him until the cot breaks. :)

Okay I'm sorry but I will totally use your ask to talk about the contrast because OH MY GOD SOMEONE ACTUALLY NOTICED😭😭😭

I usually like to make a clear contrast between the reader (You) and Butcher!Simon. It's just...I like how it kinda gives you a insight into those characters y'know? While Reader's past is mostly undefined, it was implied in one of the first posts in this au that she is quite young (around 20) and is running from something or wanted to leave her past behind for whatever reason but she still managed to settle down in this strange lone town surrounded by forests and mountains, therefore I put out the image of warmth, safety, the baking/cooking and kindness, a small but nice & well kept home etc.

Then we have Ghost, the strange, older, silent town butcher who seemingly appeared from nowhere and settled here too but it couldn't be more different than you. Simon, who got dishonorably discharged from the military under the accusation of killing some soldier, was ultimately proven not guilty (but ofc he did it) but the stain was stuck to his name like glue, not to mention his growing anger management problems were steadily growing, he got into various bloody fights and when he almost (again) beat a rookie to death then he was ultimately thrown out like trash.

So we see his deeply troubled and disturbing personality shown through his,,well, everything. The butcher's shop, the tiny cold apartment above his shop where he lives in a truly spartan way, and the old rickety and squeaking bed with some old bedsheets where he goes feral and fucks his fist until he's overstimulated thinking about you and the life he desires so so much, the home and the family he so desperately craves, a place where he can belong.

[roxiezsxx]

Intoxicating

Joost x reader Cw: toxic? established relationship, smut During Albino era!! 1,606 Words | 9,191 Characters

The sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the dusty streets of their small town. Joost sat on the sofa of their wooden house, his fingers drumming an erratic rhythm on the armrest. In the next room over, the faint sounds of dishes being stacked clashed with the tense silence that hung in the air like a suffocating blanket.

Reader emerged from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dishtowel, her face set in a tight, weary expression. She glanced at Joost but said nothing, the unspoken words between them thicker than the humid evening air.

"You gonna sit there all night?" Joost's voice broke the silence, rough and edged with irritation.

"Maybe I will," Reader shot back, tossing the towel onto the counter. "At least out here, I can breathe."

Joost's jaw clenched. "Don't start with me, Reader. Not tonight."

"Why not tonight?" Reader's voice rose, sharp and brittle. "What makes tonight any different from the others? You're always looking for a fight. It's all you ever want to fucking do." She snapped, her eyes narrowing at Joost.

Joost stood up, his chair scraping loudly against the wooden floor. "Maybe because you never stop pushing! Every little thing turns into a war with you."

Reader's eyes flashed with anger. "I'm pushing? You're the one who made out with a girl for a music video—then got mad when I didn't like it!"

Joost's shoulders sagged slightly, the fight draining out of him. "Just shut up. You're such a bitch sometimes." He clicked his tongue, rolling his eyes as his hands crossed over his chest, a scoff escaping his lips.

"Bitch," Reader repeated, her voice losing its edge but gaining in raw fury. "I'm a bitch? I think the fuck not! All you do in your songs is talk about how you bag women, but you can't even get me in bed with you lately. Don't fucking chat to me." Reader spat, slamming her fist on the counter.

Joost's eyes narrowed, anger flashing in his gaze. "Maybe you're just a stuck-up skank who can't be bothered looking sexually pleasing lately."

Reader let out a scream of frustration. "Why the fuck would I want to fuck you when all you do is go fucking clubbing?"

"I'm going for a smoke. I fucking can't be assed with you." He spat, storming out of the house, taking his lighter and cigarettes out with him.

The door slammed shut behind him, leaving Reader standing in the kitchen, her hands trembling with rage and despair. She stared at the closed door, the remnants of their latest argument echoing in her ears. As the night deepened, she wondered how much longer they could keep tearing each other apart before nothing was left.

Joost leaned against the porch railing, lighting a cigarette with shaking hands. The first drag did little to calm his nerves. He glanced back at the house, where Reader’s silhouette was barely visible through the window.

The gulf between them seemed insurmountable, filled with sharp words and broken promises. The toxic cycle they were trapped in showed no signs of ending, each fight more brutal than the last. Joost exhaled a plume of smoke, watching it dissipate into the night.

Something had to change, but neither of them knew how to take the first step. He flicked the cigarette butt into the dirt, grinding it under his heel as if he could crush their problems as easily. He knew it wasn't that simple.

Joost took a deep breath, letting the night air cool his heated thoughts. He had loved Reader once, truly and deeply, and somewhere under the layers of anger and hurt, he believed that love still existed. But it had been so long since they'd seen eye to eye, since they'd even tried to understand each other.

Inside, Reader sank into a chair, her mind racing with memories of better days. Days when Joost's touch was gentle, when his words were kind. She missed those days, but she wasn't sure if they could ever get back to them. Joost began to walk back into the house, sitting where he had before the argument broke out.

Both sat in their separate silences, the night stretching long before them.

Joost voice was the first to break the silence, "We cant keep doing this, Reader." He spoke, looking away from her, his arm resting on the arm rest of the sofa.

"No shit." Reader spoke, brows furrowing as she tried to move away from Joost, his hand gripped her thigh- telling her to stay, which she did.

His face looked over at her, looking down at her

"I'll apologize if you do." He spoke, raising a brow

"Piss off, I have nothing to apologize for!" Reader spat, pulling away from him but joost's grip only tightened.

"Fuck- whatever then. I'm not apologizing, whore." He replied snarkly. His eyes narrowed down at Reader.

"Who the fuck are you calling a whore!" Reader snapped, getting ontop of him- hovering over Joost's lap.

A smirked etched upon Joost's lips, his eyes going from her angered expression all the way down to were they were oh so close to connecting too. Joost's hands found their way on Reader's hips.

Reader groaned, trying to get up. Nothing but a yelp came from their mouth as Joost tightened his grip on her hips, slamming her down on his lap.

"Joost, what the fuck!" Reader spat, brows furrowing as she stare down at Joost whom had a pathetic look on his face, it was a half assed smirk at best. "Fucking pervert"

"Mm, you love this fucking pervert though, dont you sugar tits." Joost grinned, his eyes looking Reader's body up and down a smirk etched upon his lips.

"Shut up.." Reader trailed off as Joost's head found its way into the crook of her neck, kissing it so slowly

"Gonna fuck you so good baby.." Joost groaned, kissing and sucking at her neck, biting it occasionally aswell, a grin could be felt on your neck as he licked it teasingly before going back to sucking it.

"Better be." Reader groaned, her arms wrapping around Joost's neck, her fingers finding their way into his hair.

Joost then pulled away, his lip' crashing onto reader's the kiss was sloppy and uncoordinated yet passionate and sexual at the same time.

Their kiss grew more intense, desperation mingling with the raw passion. Joost’s hands roamed up and down Reader’s back, pulling her closer as if trying to bridge the emotional gap that had been widening between them. The heat of the moment overtook the simmering anger that had dominated their interactions for so long.

Reader's fingers tangled in Joost's hair, pulling him deeper into the kiss. She could feel the pent-up frustration and longing in every touch, every movement. It was as if they were both trying to erase the hurt and disappointment of the past months through sheer physical closeness.

Joost’s hands slid under Reader’s shirt, his touch sending shivers down her spine. She arched into him, her body responding to his in a way that words had failed to do. Their breaths mingled, hot and heavy, filling the space between them with an electric tension.

"God, I’ve missed this," Joost murmured against her lips, his voice rough with emotion. "Missed you."

Reader paused for a moment, looking into Joost’s eyes. She saw the vulnerability there, the remnants of the man she had fallen in love with. It made her heart ache, but it also gave her a glimmer of hope.

"Then show me," she whispered back, her voice soft but laced with determination. "Show me you still care."

Joost responded with a fervor that took her breath away, his kisses growing more demanding. He stood up, lifting Reader with him, her legs wrapping instinctively around his waist. They stumbled towards the bedroom, their need for each other overpowering everything else.

Inside the dimly lit room, Joost laid Reader gently on the bed, hovering over her for a moment as if savoring the sight of her. He leaned down, capturing her lips once more, his hands exploring her body with a renewed sense of urgency and reverence.

Clothes were discarded hastily, their need for each other outpacing any sense of decorum. When they were finally skin to skin, Joost paused, looking down at Reader with a mixture of awe and tenderness.

Joost slid his cock slowly into Reader's pussy, a gutteral moan escaping his lips, Reader arched her back her moan loud and whiny, the sound sounds the two were making were filthy and disgusting.

"Fuck Joost.." Reader Moaned, her eyes glistening over as Joost thrusted in and out of her.

"fucking hell, Mijn leifje, so fucking tight Hm..?"

Joost groaned, his hips slapping against hers at an animalistic speed it was dirty and sickening but to the two, it felt angelic

"Like getting dumb on my cock, hm? fucking love it dont you." Joost spat, one of his hands gripping one of Readers cheeks, leaning down and kissing them with such feverent hunger. His other hand toyed at her clit- pinching it and played with it.

Reader whined at the feeling of Joost touching her in such ways, needy please of release strung out of her, her lips colliding with his as her nails clawed at his back from the pleasure

"M' close Joost.." Reader groaned, pulling away from the kiss, her eyes glazed over from pleasure.

"Course, you are. Come on then, Cum on my cock- make it look all pretty Ja?" Joost spoke, his voice low as he spoke into Reader's ear, his thrusts never faltering.

[swarvey]

Can I ask for reactions to Farmer having real bad, MASSIVE, resting bit@% face. please 🙏

I don't care who you do it for, have fun with it. :3

when you have a resting bitch face | shane, haley (separate!) x gn!reader

summary -> your resting face has never been . . . the kindest, to say the least. it couldn't matter less to them, of course. warnings -> none! wc -> 502

a/n: this request is so funny and real i love it. i decided to do it with those who i headcanon to also have resting bitch faces. enjoy!! <3

shane

"fuckin' hell — what's up with them?"

as someone who also typically does not look the friendliest, shane feels like he has the right to judge

he's barely phased tho, thinks it's hilarious watching you go around town handing people gifts with such a stoic face

it all changes, tho, the day he sees you smile

he doesn't recall what made you laugh, only remembers thinking he wished it was because of him, bc damn

any thoughts he had about your resting face are gone

now, he only cares about being the one to break it

not that he'll ever admit it, ofc

(at least, not until you and him have matching mermaid's pendants)

it starts off with awkward small talk, as stuff typically does

"hey." | "um, hey." | "..." | "... do you need something?" | "no! no. nothing." | "okay." | "okay."

no one told him talking was hard, okay?

(the chickens usually think he's pretty funny, he swears)

something he said to you must have been right, tho, bc one day, he's on the way to joja and is stopped by you

and you have a container in your hands. for him. of pepper poppers.

"i heard you liked these ... so i decided to try and make them."

your typically hostile exterior is gone, replaced with ... is that embarrassment in your eyes??

he can't say shit, tho, he can feel a flush of heat creeping up his neck

"oh, uh, thanks, i guess. i mean, these are my favorite, so, yeah. thanks."

he wants to crawl away into a hole for the rest of his life.

his antics are rewarded nonetheless, seeing that he made you laugh for the first time

(which, in turn, gives him the chance to make you laugh for the rest of his life)

haley

"why is the new farmer looking at me like that? do they have a problem or something?"

definitely takes offense to it at first, disregarding her own major rbf

thinks you have something against her personally until emily reassures her it's just your resting face

she'll scoff and think it's stupid at first

but then she goes into the bathroom, looks into the mirror, and pretty much shrieks, scaring the hell out of her sister

"what, what?!" | "i have it, too!" | "have what?" | "the resting face! the one the farmer has!"

(emily reminds herself of inner peace before shutting the bathroom door and walking away)

after her monumental realization, haley is more understanding of you and decides to try and get to know you better

very pleasantly surprised to find your exterior doesn't match how you truly are

and when she finds a sunflower on her doorstep, along with a short letter written to her?

she's smitten.

haley's used to getting what she wants, and it's no different with you

"hey. you gave me this, right?" | "the sunflower? yeah, i heard you liked them..." | "so, wanna go on a date?" | "huh?!"

the rest is history

[scoonsalicious]

9.3 Bucky

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, violence toward inanimate objects, real talk.

Word Count: 2.2k

Previously On...: You're Bucky's guide on his first trip to a rage room.

A/N: Early today. Ugh, my professional life is trash atm, lol. Please enjoy this foray into fantasyland that keeps me sane.

If you ever feel so inclined to support my work, hop on over to buy me a coffee; it's much appreciated! <3

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Bucky couldn’t remember the last time he had enjoyed himself so much. Or, rather, he supposed, he couldn’t remember the last time he enjoyed himself so much when it didn’t involve having sex with Major.

There was something so absolutely freeing about being allowed to smash shit to smithereens without having to worry about the repercussions of it, and Bucky was feeling liberated. He had to wonder if there wasn’t a secret part of Bruce that actually enjoyed it when “Hulk smash!” 

Once they’d donned their safety gear, Major had let them into the room, where a pounding rock track was blasting. The space was filled with… stuff. Everything from old televisions to china to fake walls.

Along the wall by the door they’d just entered was an array of tools under a painted sign that read “Choose Your Weapon.” There were baseball bats, sledgehammers, crowbars, axes– even a couple of golf club drivers. 

Nat had immediately gone for one of the axes, swinging it around and testing the balance in her grip. “This one’s mine,” she had announced delightedly. 

Bucky, meanwhile, opted for a sledgehammer, and Major picked up a wooden baseball bat. On her count, they set off to release any pent up rage.

Bucky immediately headed for one of the fake walls and began smashing away. The three shouted jokes and taunts at each other over the music as they went, and the hour that made up their appointment flew by in no time. 

Bucky watched as Major went to town on an old computer monitor, her face lit up like a Christmas tree. He couldn’t imagine how Lily could ever have a problem with him dating her, not when he watched her laugh and tease Nat over something the redhead had said. He gripped his sledgehammer tighter, anger at his best friend rising in his mind. 

She didn’t even know Major, he thought as he brought the hammer down onto a ceramic bust, shattering it. Where did she get off calling Major a bitch and a slut? He moved over to an old couch and began whacking on it. What gave Lily the right to say those things about someone she didn’t even know, just because he had feelings for her? Who did she think she was?

“Bucky!” Nat called out, but he didn’t hear her, his anger at Lily sending the blood pounding in his ears. He kept raising his sledgehammer over and over again, taking out his frustrations on the helpless piece of furniture.

“BARNES!” Natasaha shouted, and that permeated the fog,finally getting his attention.

“What?!” he snapped, unable to reign in his anger immediately, but instantly regretting it when he realized it was Nat who was speaking to him, and not Lily, like he had immediately imagined. 

“That couch do something to personally offend you?” she asked.

Bucky looked down. The couch before him was reduced to nothing more than splinters and stuffing. “Shit,” he laughed nervously. “I guess I let myself get a little carried away.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow at him. “I’ll say.”

Bucky sheepishly turned to Major, offering her an apologetic smile, but she was staring at the pile of debris before him, baseball bat hanging limply from her hand.

“Sugar?” he asked, but she didn’t seem to hear him, transfixed as she was on the destruction he had left in his wake. He took a step toward her, reaching out and putting his hand on her arm. At the contact, Major let out a gasp and pulled back, startled. 

“Sorry.” She blinked, seeming to come out of a trance. “I just… what did you say, Bucky?” 

He frowned, not liking the expression on her face. “You alright, doll?”

“Yeah,” she told him, a smile coming to her lips a little too late. “I’m good.” Her hesitation left a pit in the center of Bucky’s stomach. 

A beeping sounded throughout the room, indicating that their session had come to an end. 

“Alright,” Major said, looking around, her tone full of false cheer. “Let’s put our stuff back on the wall, and vacate the space so my staff can get it ready for the next group.” Without looking at either Bucky or Nat, she returned her baseball bat to its resting place on the wall. She opened the door and held it, waiting for them to follow.

Nat hung up her axe. “I’m going to run to the bathroom before we head down,” she told them both. She squeezed Major’s arm on her way out the door, leaving her and Bucky alone.

“Is everything alright, doll?” he asked her. 

She sighed and looked up at him. “Yeah,” she said. “I guess I just didn’t realize how… strong you really were?” She inclined her head toward the demolished couch. “That… um… that was something.”

Her words concerned him. God, had he frightened her? He didn’t think he could live with himself if he had scared her. He dropped his head. “Oh,” was all he could manage to say.

“Hey,” Major said gently, taking a step toward him and reaching out a hand to touch his elbow. “It just took me by surprise, that’s all. I mean, I knew you had super strength, but actually seeing it was something else.”

“It didn’t scare you?” he asked her with some trepidation. He wasn’t sure he wanted to really know, if he could stand the way she might look at him if she, too, thought him a monster.

“Scare me?” Major laughed, but when she noticed the expression on his face, she grew serious. “You seriously think you scare me? Bucky, no.” She made a point of taking his metal hand in both of hers, bringing it to her lips, and then up to cup her cheek. “You could never scare me.”

Bucky closed his eyes and released a breath. “I’m used to people seeing me as a murderer, a monster,” he told her. “I’ve gotten to the point where it doesn’t bother me if it comes from strangers, but if it came from you…” He left his thoughts hanging, the words unsaid. 

“You have nothing to worry about,” she told him, putting a hand on each of his cheeks. “I see you, Bucky Barnes. Not some monster. I never could. Don’t ever think that. I admit, I was startled, but that’s all, I promise.” She leaned up and kissed him lightly. “I wouldn’t lie to you. Not about anything, and most definitely not about that.”

“Thank you, doll.” Her words to him were a balm on a wound he thought he’d long healed, but apparently was capable of being reopened at any moment. 

“Of course, honey,” she replied, tucking her arm under his and ushering him out the door and into the hallway where Nat was waiting by the elevators. 

Bucky loved the feeling of Major pressed against him as they rode the elevator back down to the lobby, and though she told him he hadn’t scared her, he couldn’t shake the look she’d had on her face at his display of aggression. He never wanted to see a look like that cross her countenance again. 

The lobby was bustling with people waiting to be taken to their rage rooms when the three of them exited the elevator.

“I’m glad business is doing good,” Nat said, looking around the crowded lobby with a smile. “You deserve the success, Major.”

Major buried her face into Bucky’s shoulder, pleased. “Thanks, Nat,” she replied. “It still seems weird to think that we’re not operating in the red.”

“Was it difficult?” Bucky asked her, suddenly curious about what it had been like for Major at the beginning of her business. 

“Ugh, that’s a story for another time,” Major said. “When I’ve had a few drinks in me.”

“Hey, Major!” Zadie called once she had gotten the new group of people all checked in. “Package came for you while you were upstairs. I left it on your desk.”

Major let out a dejected sigh. “Well,” she said, turning to look up at Bucky with a forlorn expression, “I guess this means I have to get back to work. We’re still on for dinner tonight, though, right Bucky?”

He smiled down at her; as if he could have forgotten. “Of course, sugar. How ‘bout I meet you back here at five thirty, and we can figure out where to go?”

“That sounds wonderful,” she said, standing up on tiptoe to give him a quick kiss while Nat looked on with a knowing smile. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you, too, doll,” he replied. With a final farewell to Nat, Major turned and made her way back to her office, leaving him and the former assassin to make their exit.

“Don’t you dare hurt her,” Nat warned as they made their way into the lobby. 

Bucky turned to face her, halting in his steps. “What?” he spluttered. “Nat, I–I would never–”

“I know you don’t think you’d do it on purpose,” Natasha replied, “but your former girlfriends have a habit of getting their hearts broken and ending up miserable because of you. I’m telling you not to do that with Major. She’s a good person, and my friend. If you think that, once again, you’re going to let someone else call the shots on your relationship with her, you should let her go now, before she gets in too deep. She’s been hurt enough.”

“Nat,” he said, grabbing her arm and forcing her to look at him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He sincerely didn’t. Who else would be calling the shots on any of his relationships if it wasn’t him? Yeah, it was true that his past relationships had ended messily, that the girls had been hurt, but… well, that wasn’t entirely Bucky’s fault, was it? Things just hadn’t worked out, for one reason or another. 

But with Major? Well, things were different with her. Bucky could feel it.

Nat gave him an appraising look, studying him as if she could read his mind through his facial expressions. “You really don’t, do you?” she mused. “It’s not my place to tell you her business, but Barnes–” she gave him a serious look– “if you let her get hurt because you can’t figure out where to draw a boundary, you and I are going to have a problem."

She gently pulled free of his grasp and made her way to the door of the building. Bucky paused for a moment, contemplating all that she had said, and wondering just what she had meant by any of it. Though, knowing Natasha, if she didn’t feel the need to explain it to him, there was no way he could get her to elaborate. 

As he was about to follow her out the door, he heard Major shouting for Zadie’s attention. He turned around and saw her angrily waving a thick manilla envelope in the air as she stalked toward the reception desk.

“Where did this come from, Zadie?” she asked in a tone Bucky had never heard her use before.

“Courier dropped it off, why?” Zadie asked. “What is it? Who’s it from?” 

“What company was the courier from?” Major continued, ignoring Zadie’s own questions. “Did they have a logo or anything like that?”

“Doll?” Bucky said as he stepped back toward the reception desk, concerned by the previously unseen agitation Major was displaying.

“Bucky!” Major exclaimed, as though surprised to still see him there. “I thought you left already.” She plastered on a smile that didn’t reach her eyes, and Bucky knew it was performative for his sake.

Bucky frowned. “What’s wrong, sugar? What’s in the envelope?”

Major’s eyes widened a fraction in alarm as she maneuvered to position the envelope behind her back. “It’s nothing, honey. Just… some business stuff. There’s no sender, so I need to figure out where it came from so I can make sure it gets dealt with properly.”

Bucky knew her explanation was bullshit, but he didn’t feel comfortable questioning her in front of her employee, so he let it slide. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“No!” she exclaimed, a little too quickly, and then seemed to realize she’d nearly shouted at him. “No,” her voice was softer now, calmer, “but thank you. I appreciate that you want to help, though. That means a lot to me.”

Those words rang true; Bucky could tell that much. He sighed and took a step closer to give her a quick parting kiss. “If you’re sure, doll,” he said. 

“I’m sure,” she told him, then leaned in to whisper in his ear: “and if we were still having sex, I’d show you how appreciative I am.” She pulled back and grinned up at him.

“Gonna make me really regret that decision, huh?” he asked. He knew she was changing the subject, putting distance between them and the mysterious envelope, but he was willing to let it go for the time being. 

“Oh, most definitely,” she teased him. “At least until you change your mind.”

Bucky smiled at her. If she kept it up, he’d be changing his mind sooner than later. “Alright, I better get going before Nat comes looking for me,” he said, taking a step back from her. “I’ll see you at five thirty, yeah?”

“Don’t be late,” Major called after him. As if he would ever be late for her.

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

[fanficsbyme-causeimgay]

Imagine, if you will, you have been hiking. Regardless of your disability that gave you problems walking, hiking was an activity you loved doing.

Sadly, one day, that disability does not help.

You trip and fumble, rolling down a hill. Thankfully, you haven't broken anything, but you have lost your backpack that had the means to contact others to help you. Your phone broke, but even if it hadn't broken, you wouldn't have any signal.

Lying there in pain because of the many injuries you've sustained - as minor as they might be, they're still painful - you just see a shadow looming above you.

When you wake up next, you're in a cabin in the middle of the woods. The owner and sole person living in it is what can only be described as a lumberjack. Big man with thick arms and even thicker and strong voice that was a lot gentler than you'd expect from a man of his size. He helped you, he took you from where you were and brought you to his home - Here you have been for three days until now. He lives away from proper civilization, and although he has an emergency kit, he doesn't really use it, and some things have expired already. He can't exactly leave you here because it would take him days to get to the closest town, and you can't possible be by yourself for so long in the state you're in!

So he stayed.

As he lives alone and you're taking his only bed, he sleeps on the ground. At first, you felt really guilty about it - it is his house, so he should sleep on the bed! - but he keeps insisting that this wasn't the first time he slept on the ground and probably won't be the last. Still, you insist that at least you share, right? But it is awkward to share the bed with a stranger. So, why not become friends? That way the awkwardness will fade away... right?

You learn a few things about him. Very important things indeed.

He loves star fruits. His favorite color is green. He is an avid reader of what he explained to you to be scientific texts about soil and rocks (he went on and on about the differences between various types of rocks). He has taken to the art of woodcarving. And he also loves bears! He has made various small hand sized little bear statues that he has all around his house.

Talking about his house, although you have been mostly confined to the bedroom, you have seen a bit of it, mainly the kitchen. After a week of living together, you can finally move your body without too much pain or strain on your muscles, but walking still eludes you, cane or no cane. It is too painful. Maybe you tore something? Regardless, he sets you down on a chair he most likely makes himself and talks about whatever he wants as he makes dinner, and he is a good cook! He lives alone, so he has to be... Or make food good enough to eat.

He loves soups, too. "They're easy to make, hut hard to truly master." Is what he said when you asked about it... and it kinda makes sense.

One week turns into two, and you're starting to move around a little more, and that's when he takes you outside. It was cold, very cold, and that is when you find out he lives on top of a mountain. Without windows in his house ("I don't like them for... personal reasons."), you didn't really know you were higher up, but it was a beautiful, beautiful place... Miles and miles of forest as far as the eyes could see - and you could see your original trail too. It was two or so miles away and a steep drop down, too.

He sat you down by the porch and you two just watched the horizon as the sun set down before going back inside... it felt weirdly romantic.

Maybe that was when things started.

You began to help him with cooking - just small things. "Let me cut the potatoes for you." Oh yeah, he grew them and a bunch of other things too. He likes gardening, too... "Let me help you with that!" Or a good ol' "You look like you need some help."

And soft touches when reaching out for the same thing became more natural. Touches become more natural. Sleeping on the same bed becomes natural. Cuddling becomes more natural. And that was when you noticed it - He was gruff with it. He just told you: "I turn into a big bear sometimes." Like was the most common and perfectly normal thing for a big guy like him to do!

"Uhm, like, regularly?"

"Whenever I want to."

"...can I see that?"

And he shows you. He is big. He is brown. He is fluffy.

Secrelty, he is also extremely happy that you didn't freak out and tried to run away. He is even happier when you literally cuddle the fuck out od him.

But time, as always, moves on.

You were well enough to return to civilization. And he knew that, so he told you that the next morning, he would bring you to the nearest town. As a last farewell, he made a campfire, and you both sat together and watched as thunder rumbled above your heads. The dark clouds rolling in as rain would soon fall - and that is when he pulls out a simple guitar.

"...can I sing you something?" He asks, nervous. "I don't make any promises about the quality. It will probably suck."

"I would love to hear it." You say.

And he sings -

And when he finishes, you can't help it.

You don't wanna leave.

That night, you both did kiss, like real people do.

[alphajocklover]

The Hometown Hex

Wallace Power was parked on the side of the road, just outside his hometown of Maxford, trying to gather up enough courage to get back on the road. Wallace hated his hometown. There was nothing wrong with the town itself. It was a fairly normal, albeit very conservative small town, but it was nice enough. His family wasn’t the problem either. For all their flaws, Wallace loved them all deeply. The problem was… well it was hard to explain. When his boyfriend asked why he had never introduced him to his family, Wallace would say that he was still in the closet with them, which was partially true. His family didn’t know he was gay, but once again that wasn’t the real problem. The problem was that when Wallace finally got the nerve to enter town… he’d change.

The problem was that the town of Maxford has a strange power. It wasn’t one that maybe people were aware of, mainly because no one ever visited the small, middle of nowhere town and hardly anyone ever left. But anyone who crossed city limits and entered the town would… transform. Although it could also be argued that the transformation happens when someone leaves the town. See, Wallace didn’t grow up as Wallace. For the first 18 years of his life he was Wally. Wally was huge, muscular, manly, and straight. He used to play football, brag to his friend about all the pussy he was getting, have sex with cheerleaders and joke about how pathetic fags were. He used to be an all American conservative country jock. And then he got a college offer out of town. Wally’s family had tried to convince him to go to local college like his dad had, but Wally wanted to go to a real party school with hotter chicks. So he packed up his things and left for college.

The second Wally left city limits he turned into Wallace. He had been so shocked he almost skidded out of control. His muscles were gone and it was like he was looking at everything with new clarity. He felt like his entire life he had been asleep, under some kind of spell, and now that he had left town he was… the real him. He looked back at who he had been with shock, horrified by how much of a douchebag jock he was. Trying to figure out what had happened, he drove back into town… only to immediately turn back into a very confused Wally who couldn’t figure out why he was driving in the wrong direction. He turned around and became Wallace once more. It took a few more times back and forth and a major headache for Wallace to understand what was happening. Something about his hometown made everyone who lived in it into a straight, conservative, usually much more attractive version of themselves. If someone left town they’d turn into the person they were really meant to be without the towns influence, but if they entered town again they'd turn back into their other self, not even remembering that they had been different while outside. Wallace tested it a few times, and Wally never seemed to remember being Wallace. He’d even get fake memories if he was gone long enough.

When he discovered the truth a part of Wallace wanted to just… run away. To leave this cursed town behind him and never come back. He had spent his entire childhood, his entire life, under the influence of the towns music. He barely knew who he was without it and that terrified him. But… even as Wallace, he couldn’t abandon his family. He loved them. He had so many happy memories with them as Wally. He knew his parents would never leave Maxford, being the traditionalist hometown loving folks they are. So, Wallace did the only thing he could think to. He went to college. He left Maxford, and Wally, behind him. He took time to discover who he really was, what he really liked. He got hobbies, friends, and even a very loving boyfriend. On the 3 years it had been since he left Maxford he had to be himself, to be truly alive. He kept in touch with his family over text and pretended to be his old self while doing so. He let himself live as Wallace. But he knew he couldn’t avoid Maxford forever. He had to come back, for holidays and big events. And every time he did he’d turn right back into Wally the jock. He tried to avoid it if he could… but this time, with his little brother Ed’s18th birthday party, he knew he couldn’t. Wallace took a deep breath, reminded himself this was for his brother… and drove into the city.

Wally Power smirked slightly as he drove into his hometown of Maxford. He couldn’t believe Eddie was as fucking 18! Seems like just yesterday he was the starry eyed kid who was asking him for workout tips after football practice. Wally felt a little guilty about not visiting him as much as he probably should, but school had kept him busy. While, the frat parties and bimbos wanted to get fucked by his massive cock kept his busy. Wally didn’t really care that much about grades and shit. For a second he felt a fleeting memory of a relationship, but that didn’t make sense. Wally was way to much of a ladies man to settle down. As Wally pulled up to his parents house, a small presence in the back of his head sighed. This was going to be a long two weeks.

**hey guys! This story was inspired by some dms with a friend. They told me about their experience in the closet and how they’d pretend to be a straight jock when with their family, and this idea just came to me. Definitely revisiting this later. I know I’ve been writing a lot of G2S stuff lately, and I’ll admit there’s more of that to come, but I’ll try to get out a bigger variety. Hope you enjoyed!**

[foreverdolly]

a/n: here is the promised teaser for the final chapter of "i just ride" !

Your ribs hollowed themselves out, your heart echoing loudly in your own ears as your feet pounded after his long legged pace. 

The water was already squeaking in your shoes and soaking through to your socks. Your clothes were as good as ruined- hair clinging to your cheeks, neck and back. You didn’t stop running though. Not until you caught up to him. The unrelenting rain threatened to blind you, but you pressed on. 

You were often exposed to the way that your parents fought like cats and dogs. They’d put distance between themselves, your father leaving for the night to go out and drink his sorrows. Distance never meant anything good. It opened the door to the inevitable: the leaving. 

His blonde hair had turned a dull mousy brown now that it was completely soaked through, his waves now flat against his neck. You could see him fairly well… all thanks to the headlights. 

“What’s so wrong with us going back to normal? You’re my best friend, Austin. Please.” You felt like you just might die if he left you. You’d be trapped in town, condemned to spend the rest of your life in small town monotony. You’d marry some local schmuck and move into some horribly mundane home right down the street from what had been your own childhood hell. 

Austin wasn’t just your safety net. You feared that a future without him in it wasn’t going to be a happy one. Austin was the sole owner and contributor of your happiness. 

It was the desperation in your voice that caused him to turn and face you. Austin despised the idea of you being in distress more than anything. He’d made a vow to protect you all those years ago, and all the while there had been no one there to protect him. It never mattered though. Not when he could walk the one mile it took to get to your neighborhood so that he lay his bruised and beaten form down on your bed. The smell of your floral shampoo on your pillows acted as a salve, and with his own problems forgotten he would  burrow himself deep under your comforters. You’d ramble on about the most random things, trying to keep his mind off of the fresh welts. The sound of your voice and your laugh was more than enough for him. That was the only protection he really needed. The constant beatings from his father might have caused him physical pain, but nothing could truly hurt him when he knew that he had you. Nothing else had ever mattered. 

But when the boy had matured into a young man, the comfort of knowing that he would always be your best friend had lost its spark. It just didn’t sound right anymore. Maybe Austin was selfish when it came to you, but it didn’t seem good enough. It wasn’t until a boy in his class had suddenly packed up and moved that the blonde haired child had realized why it would never be enough. 

He simply couldn’t live without you, and you and your upper-middle class family could move at the drop of a dime. 

No phone calls or messily written letters would ever be enough to satiate him. The whimpering, childlike attachment that he had to you could have been compared to that of a baby with their blanket or a prized stuffed animal. You were comfort to him. You were home- and Austin had grown up never knowing what that truly was. You were the only definition of the word that he could ever truly relate to.

 He had to see you. Be near you. Hug you. Hold you- and he didn’t want any more miles than the one that it took to walk to your house to come between the both of you. Not if it was too far for him to walk on foot. 

And then it all clicked into place for him. All those years ago… he’d known exactly what it was that he felt for you. Everything- all at once. 

Austin was in love with you. There wasn’t a point in time that he could recall those feelings changing, rather they had just always been there. They just meant something different to him now. He had been old enough to put a label on the complicated, earth shattering feelings that he had felt for all of his life. Loving you was as easy as breathing, and felt just as natural. Loving you was his favorite thing to do, because without it he feared that he just might curl up into a ball and cease to exist. 

He’d die in that run down trailer park and the moldy ceilings just might finally collapse on top of him and swallow him up whole. 

Every burn from his father’s cigarette. Every punch, slap, kick. Every curse and muttered obscenity. Every insult. Every hungry, dinner-less night. 

You made it all worth it. He’d wake up each morning with a smile on his face, knowing that you’d be there with an extra sandwich in your lunchbox with his name on it and an endless amount of comfort. You sung his praise on a constant basis, and you’d single handedly saved him from his horrific reality. 

Being your best friend meant everything to him, but maturing comes with the realization that all good things must come to an end. Eventually you’d start to date someone and get serious. Next would come marriage and babies, and what would he be then? Where would that leave him? He remembered how horrified he had been when he had asked his seventh grade teacher, Mrs Powell, who her best friend was. 

“Well. . . Austin, when you get to be my age you don’t really have a best friend. Not really, at least.” 

And there it was. The hard truth. The reality of his situation. The teen could no longer sit around and pretend that he’d be fine with taking a backseat in your life, so long as he remained in the car at least. He couldn’t pretend that he was fine with staying in the friendzone forever. So he’d made a habit of scaring off boys in the class that seemed to take a shine to you. He sabotaged nearly every date that you had in high school, sitting you down after meeting every “boyfriend” of yours only to tell you that he hated them. That they weren’t good for you, and that he’d heard from other guys in school that they were a bit of a ladies man. He’d dried your tears when no one had asked you to your senior prom, only to be able to ask you himself. 

He had deluded himself in that overcrowded, dimly lit gym that one day you’d realize that you loved him. One day you’d realize that he was the one that you were meant to be with. 

But graduation passed and now here you two were, standing out in the rain after years of dancing around the truth. No matter how long Austin had tried to hide from it, it was finally there. Looming far too close to ignore. 

The end. 

It felt like he was staring Death in the eyes. Hell, he probably was. Austin wasn’t sure how long he could live without you. It wouldn’t be like cutting off a limb and learning to thrive without it. It would be like functioning without lungs, a brain- some necessary internal organ that couldn’t survive outside of the body. 

“Jesus fuckin’ christ-” He muttered, wiping angrily at the rain on his face before turning sharply on his heel so that he was fulling facing you. 

You had to suck in a breath, legs buckling in shock as you blinked up at him. Your bottom lip began to quiver as you tried hard to keep from crying. He hated when you looked destroyed like this. It was rare to see you without that signature smile of yours brightening up your face. The urge to fall at your feet and apologize was overwhelming, but the embarrassment of this entire situation kept his feet firmly planted on the ground. 

“I don’t want things to go back to normal,” He screamed over the deafening sound of the rain, throwing his arms up to the sky as if somehow it just might answer his silent prayers. “What’s the whole point of any of this? Of us.” He motioned between your two soaked bodies, his eyelashes kissing at the corners as he tried his hardest to shield his baby blues from the onslaught of water that poured over the both of you. 

Your heart didn’t just break. It fucking imploded. 

In your twenty years of life you have experienced your fair share of heartache. You’d cried and cried until you were blue in the face. You knew what true emotional turmoil felt like, and all before your tenth birthday. Never in your life had you felt heartbreak so severe that it caused a physical reaction. Pain. 

It felt like you were having a heart attack. Your shoulders hunched, and suddenly you found it hard to keep yourself standing up. You couldn’t help but double over, melting in on yourself. Your once white sneakers were now a dusty brown, the backroad mud clinging to your high waisted jeans and hands as you tried to brace yourself on the ground. Your fingers found purchase in the mud, and you clung to it, balling your fists around it. Sucking in breath after breath. Reminding yourself that this couldn’t kill you, no matter how it felt like it might. 

Gone. Gone. This was it. He was leaving you. 

You felt one of his hands on your back, his usually warm skin now cold due to the rain. Distantly you could hear him calling your name, shaking at your shoulders relentlessly to try and get some sort of reaction out of you. You were inconsolable as you tried to sort out your jumbled thoughts. You needed to speak to him. Needed him to clarify what was happening. 

“Are you leaving me?” You couldn’t feel your lips anymore, and maybe it was due to the fact that you were hyperventilating. A panic attack was seizing your limbs. Making you useless. Never in your life had you experienced something like this before. The freezing cold rain did nothing to ground you. 

You remembered your school counselor meeting with you all those years ago. She had told you that jumping in a cold shower when you felt an attack coming on would jolt you out of it. The practice had become routine. This time it wasn’t helping. You looked up at Austin the best that you could, eyes wide and watery, the day old mascara dripping down your cheeks all the way to the corners of your lips. 

You looked like a fallen angel, Austin thought. The sight of you so hideously afraid and upset made him want to jump off the nearest cliff. Because he’d seen you worked up before, but you’d never looked so alone. You always had him, and now there was doubt in those eyes. 

You looked like a child kneeling on the ground like this. Scared of being abandoned. 

“I-I. . .” His plush lips parted and closed as he fought to find the right words. If he said them and then got rejected, then he could finally end this. He could grieve the loss of his lifelong love and then maybe learn how to be your friend again after mourning it all. All he knew was that he could never leave you. Not really, at least. 

You were ingrained in him. 

Bone deep. 

“I’m twenty one years old. . . and I have a job. Not a very good one, but a better job than I ever expected to land myself. What’s the point of growing’ up if I can’t do that with you?” He was dancing around the words. He knew that he was, and you were too upset to pick at his sentence for hiding meanings. 

“I’ve done all of my growing with you. What do you mean? What do you mean?” 

“Shit,” He spat out, his hand moving to grip at the fabric of your shirt, pulling you up so that you’d look back up at him. What he was about to say was important. Life changing, and he needed you to look at him while he said it all. “I’m goin’ to have to watch you date someone. And get serious with them. I’ll know that they’re kissin’ you and f-f. . .” He nearly vomited as he bit out the next word. “Fuckin’ you. I’ll watch you get married and pop out a few kids. I’ll be an uncle by association, and when they’ll get older all I’ll ever be is ‘the guy’ that comes over every Thanksgivin’.” He looked like he was in physical pain, his face twisted with obvious disgust. Still, he continued speaking, unable to stop now that he was finally putting it all out on the table. 

“You’ll move away- probably for your husband's job, and I’ll never get to see you. The phone calls will be few and far in between because you have a family to take care of, and before you know it all I’ll ever be is a face in a yearbook that you keep tucked away on a shelf.” His hand shook as he brought it up to his chest, slapping his palm against the spot over his heart. “And I can’t do that. I don’t have it in me. I’ll die. I really will.” 

[zepskies]

Take Me Home - Part 1

Pairing: Beau Arlen x F. Reader 

Summary: You are another lost soul at Sunny Day Excursions. You’re aiming to settle in Helena, Montana, where Beau Arlen is the new sheriff in town. But you’ve both got a past you’re running from. 

AN: Welcome to my first ever Big Sky series! I’ve been wanting to get to this for a while now. I’m so glad I finally get to start sharing this with you! I truly hope you enjoy the ride. (Note: This is set towards the beginning of season 3.)

Song Inspo: “Fly Away” by John Denver. And remember, you can listen to the full Take Me Home Playlist ⬅️ here.

Word Count: 4,400

Tags/Warnings: A bit of angst, a bit of setup, “Glamper Girl,” and a side helping of cops enjoying baked goods…

❤️ Series Masterlist

Part 1: All of Her Days

“This really feels like cheating,” you mused.

Yet again, you surveyed the sheer size and luxury of this tent you were supposed to be “camping” in.

Between the giant king-sized bed with crème and burgundy comforters, a two-seater dining table, a dresser (with a vanity), and even a small bookshelf, it looked like the Taj Mahal of glamping.

“Can’t you just enjoy it?” your best friend replied, poking a teasing finger into your side. She smirked when you flinched and gave her some playful side-eye. “My parents are the ones footing the bill, anyway.”

“Of which, I intend to pay them back for my half,” you said. Mary just rolled her eyes and waved you off. Her parents’ money was something she’d never had a problem spending.

“Come on, they’re getting ready to go on the hike without us,” she said, tossing her little purse over her shoulder. You were a bit more practical with your backpack, filled with a bottle of water, a couple snacks, bug spray, and your sketch pad.

Mary bumped your shoulder with hers as you two walked out of the tent, and you gave her a smile. You were glad she insisted on this little week-long excursion. It gave you exactly five more days to enjoy the fresh air of no responsibilities, before you returned to reality.

“So where are you guys from?” you asked a couple of walking companions on the early-morning hike.

The woods of Helena, Montana were vast and deep, and you found them a bit intimidating. You were a city girl, through and through, but you were learning to appreciate the mountains and the steep trails flanked by dense trees. You were also grateful that you weren’t alone. 

Emily seemed to be a nice girl around sixteen, while her stepfather Avery was a lightly graying man in his 40s. You pegged his accent as English, the “casual posh” kind. On a scale from Dame Maggie Smith to Dick Van Dyke's attempt at cockney, you’d put Avery on a Benedict Cumberbatch level.

“Well, I met her mother in Houston,” Avery replied, nodding at the girl beside you. “She and Emily joined me here in Helena after we were married this past spring.”

Emily confirmed with a nod. “Yep, starting school here in a few months.”

At that, you could smile. “Me too, actually.”

Emily gave you a confused look while she fiddled with an app on her phone.

“What? You’re still in school?” she asked.

“No,” you laughed. “I’m—”

“She’s a college professor,” Mary tacked on. “AKA: a giant nerd.”

Emily tried not to smile at your expense. You just shook your head at your friend.

“Thanks,” you said wryly, despite your amusement. “We can’t all be personal trainers. One can only take so much Spandex.”

Mary rolled her eyes and prepared to fire back a retort, but your attention shifted back to Emily, who seemed to be debating whether to press a red button on her phone. You thought it looked like a voice recording app.

You followed her line of vision and saw Paige and Luke up ahead—a young “happy couple” here at Sunny Day Excursions. They were whisper-yelling at each other, sniping something about Luke’s birthday. Apparently, he had a problem with getting another year older.

Don’t we all, you thought, with no small amount of sarcasm. The guy had been a sour apple since the start of this trip, and to be honest, he was starting to get on your damn nerves.

“This is like, prime time stuff for my podcast,” Emily whispered.

You looked over at her. “Oh yeah? What’s your podcast about?”

“Relationships, lies, that sort of thing,” she replied.

You almost grimaced. Good luck finding willing subjects for that one.

Mary snickered on your other side. She leaned close to your ear so only you would hear.

“God, Paige’s voice is so effing annoying. Like a chipmunk on helium,” she said. “I feel sorry for him.”

You shot her a dry look. “He’s the one asking for it, if you ask me. But they’ve been going at it the whole time. Makes me feel sorry for both of them.”

You shook your head and kept walking on the trail. Mary sobered as she stared back at you. She was reminded of why you two were really here, and what you’d been through this past year…

What you all had been through.

You and Mary fell behind Avery and Emily on the trail, giving Mary the opportunity to touch your arm and stop you in the middle of the trail.

“Do you really plan to stay here?” she asked. “In dusty-ass Montana? With the snakes and the bears and the old hicks?”

“Well, I got the key to my apartment before we got here,” you said. And she knew that. “My aunt is letting me crash with her until the rest of my things ship over in a couple of weeks, and I start a new job in the fall. So yeah, I’m staying.”

Mary’s lips pursed. She gave you a long look, but you held your ground. You even popped your Airpods in for good measure. You were done with this conversation.

She huffed and kept walking.

You watched your friend go in annoyance. You knew she would try to talk you out of your decision at some point on this trip, but you hadn’t expected it to be so soon.

Heaving a sigh, you looked up at the clear sky above you, filtered through the tall trees. You took a moment to collect yourself in this great big no man’s land, where you could finally let yourself slow down for a minute, and breathe.

You raised the volume in your Airpods when a particular song came through.

“All of her days have gone soft and cloudy. All of her dreams have gone dry,” crooned the soft melody. You nodded to the rhythm of the mellow notes, but all the while, you tried to blink through the sting of tears.

“All of her nights have gone sad and shady. She's getting ready to fly…”

You rubbed your left hand, where you still had the tan line of the ring you used to wear.

“It’s really okay, sweetie,” Mary tried to console you, rubbing her hand between your shoulders.

After the hike, you all had returned to camp and sat down to brunch. It was an amazing spread, with waffles and muffins and Danishes, eggs done three different ways, toast with jam, assorted sandwiches, coffee and orange juice (and sparkling wine for the adults).

But even with a huge plate of appetizing food in front of you, you were sulking a bit. You had your face covered by your hands as you rested your elbows on the table.

“One of my only goals on this trip was to ride a damn horse, and I couldn’t even do that,” you said.

Sunny Barnes and her husband Buck were the heads and hosts of this whole trip. And after the hike, their son, Cormack, had tried to help you onto the nice chestnut mare the handler had brought out of the stable for you. But your entire body had locked up in fear at the prospect of being vaulted onto the horse.

In fairness, she was huge. And you were both afraid of heights, and animals that could buck you off its back and trample you.

You hadn’t been able to speak. You just shook your head vigorously every time Cormack asked you if you were okay.

So he’d graciously patted your back and gave the mare to Emily instead.

“I’ve never been able to ride a horse either,” Avery offered in commiseration. You lowered your hands and gave him a wan smile.

Emily was carving an apple with an impressive (and somewhat scary) looking pocketknife. She shrugged.

“It’s not so hard,” she said. But, perhaps realizing how she sounded, she looked up and gave you an apologetic look. “Sorry. I mean, I’m sure you’ll get it! It’s hard in the beginning, but once you get used to it, it’s like riding a bike.”

Right. A bike with hooves, you thought, ripping a piece of bread from your egg and cheese sandwich.

Mary bumped your shoulder with a teasing smile. “You just got showed up by a high schooler. Again.”

You pursed your lips in amusement. You tossed the piece of bread. It hit her dead between the eyes. You giggled at the way she jumped with a start.

“Real mature,” she shot back.

“Yeah,” you replied, taking a giant bite of your sandwich for good measure. “I learned from you.”

Even Emily snickered, making Mary roll her eyes in amusement.

Shortly after, Avery and his stepdaughter were finished with brunch and got up to get back to their tents.

You glanced over and noticed that Emily had left her knife on the table, now closed in its sheath.

Sheriff Beau Arlen may have still been relatively new in town, but he considered himself a consummate professional.

He’d agreed to accompany Cassie, the local private investigator (and his friend), up to this mountain pass to look for a missing backpacker. Questioning Buck and Sunny Barnes and their crew was just good old-fashioned, thorough police work.

But if it also gave Beau a chance to check on his daughter up here “glamping” with her half-baked stepfather, then he couldn’t pass up on that opportunity, now could he?

After talking to Buck and Sunny, who hadn’t seen hide or hair of the backpacker, Beau let Cassie take care of questioning Cormack Barnes while Beau found his daughter outside her tent. After giving her a big hug and inspecting her “tent” (Really? he thought. Looks more like a hotel room than a tent.), he asked her how her trip was going so far.

“Good, Dad. But you really didn’t have to come all the way out here just to check up on me,” Emily said. She was amused, but no longer surprised to see him.

“No, no, no. I didn’t, okay?” Beau refuted. Though at the look on her face, he knew he wasn’t fooling her. She was a sharp kid. “All right, maybe not the only reason. We had to talk to Sunny about a missing backpacker. It’s something Cassie’s investigating.”

Emily’s amusement faded into surprise, and then concern.

“Wait, what?” she said.

“Oh, I’m sure it’s nothing. Just, you know…parents probably didn’t get the memo that ‘off-the-grid’ was part of the deal,” he said, giving her a meaningful raise of his brows. Maybe his daughter didn’t have to screen so many of his calls while she was on this trip.

“Overprotective parents, huh?” Emily dryly remarked.

“The worst,” Beau agreed, shaking his head.

But he smiled. Just seeing her made his whole week better…and it alleviated some of the hurt in his heart. Not getting to be with her on a trip like this stung. And knowing Avery was the one who got to be there for her grated on him.

Beau was already missing too much of his daughter’s life, and he still wasn’t too sure on how to deal with that.

Speak of the devil, he thought. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Avery approaching. Beau forced himself to look as close to pleasant as he could get around his ex-wife’s husband.

While Mary went back to the tent to freshen up, you grabbed Emily’s pocketknife and went to look for her so you could return it. It had a wood-carved hilt and had her initials, E. A., engraved on the side. The knife looked special, not the kind of thing you wanted to lose.

You found her outside her tent with her stepfather, and a man you didn’t know. He had broad shoulders and short brown hair that swept above his brow. When he turned to look at you, the first thing you noticed was the cut of his bearded chin, and then the green of his eyes.

You didn’t realize it, but your insides stilled, just for a moment. Then you remembered to smile.

Avery looked a bit tense, as did the newcomer. You sensed you were interrupting a tete-a-tete. 

“Uh, hi. I’m sorry,” you said, and extended the sheathed knife toward Emily. “Just wanted to get this back to you. You left it at the table.”

“Oh! Thanks,” Emily said gratefully.

“Well, hi there,” said the new guy. He was tall, you noted, wearing a beige jacket over a buttoned-down shirt, some jeans, and boots. It was a casual look, but all worked very well for him…in a rugged cowboy sense.

“This is my dad,” Emily supplied.

“Sheriff Beau Arlen, ma’am,” he said, giving you a more friendly smile that you matched in kind when you shook his hand. You also gave him your name to go along with it.

“You here for a little belated vacation, Sheriff?” you added.

“No. Matter of fact, I’m here on police business,” he replied. That concerned you, but he was quick to wave a dismissive hand. “Everything’s okay here. Just checking on a missing backpacker. But it looks like we’ll have to continue our search for him elsewhere.”

You hummed at that in concern. “Well, I hope you find him.”

“I do too,” he agreed with a nod.

Then, Emily took the slight pause in the conversation as her chance to escape.

“Okay, Dad, well, we’re gonna go hike down to the lake,” she said, gesturing at Avery. “But as you can see, I’m fine. We’re fine.”

Beau’s smile became a bit tight, but he nodded in understanding. He gave her a big hug, and you could see he was reluctant to let her go. Avery stood behind them. He held tension in his shoulders. You felt a bit awkward yourself, being in the midst of what was clearly an uneasy family dynamic.

Beau released his daughter. After she took off with Avery following close behind, Beau turned to you next. You tried not to blush at the sight of his handsome face.

“Sorry, again,” you said, raising a placating hand. “I didn’t mean to intrude.”

His lips twitched upward, and he shook his head. “You’re fine. Though you don’t look like a local. You from outta town?”

I could say the same thing about you, cowboy, you thought. There was a slight southern drawl in his voice that sounded like Alabama. Maybe Texas?

“You got me,” you nodded. “I’m from Chicago originally, but…I’ve actually just moved here to Helena.”

“Ahh, a city girl,” he remarked. “Small world. I just got here a few months ago myself. Houston, Texas.”

Your smile brightened. Right on the money.

“Yeah, I figured,” you couldn’t help teasing him a little. His grin kicked up in the corner.

“How’re the mountains and fresh air treating you then?” he asked. “Better than that blanket a’ smog in Chicago.”

“We do not have smog…or, well, not that much,” you laughed, “but yes, I’m actually really liking it here so far. I mean, I just got here about a week ago. I’m still learning. Though Emily actually tried to help me ride a horse today.”

“Yeah?” His brows raised. “How’d that go?”

You had to laugh. A kind of self-deprecating laugh that had you half-covering your face to stem off your blush.

“Not well,” you admitted.

Beau ducked his head with a smile. He met your eyes in amusement, but not without kindness.

“Well, here’s a tip for ya,” he said. He planted his feet, held his hands up into lightly clenched fists. “The trick is in the legs. Grip tight, but not too tight. He’ll think you’re rarin’ to go.”

You blinked a bit wider. Was that just honest advice…or was he sort of flirting with you?

It made you blush in earnest.

“Ah. Good to know,” you said with a laugh. He treated you with a tip of his imaginary hat.

“Hey,” someone called out.

Both of your heads turned to a tall black woman with long curly hair. She gave you a polite smile before she nodded up at Beau.

“You ready to go?” she asked.

“Ah, yep,” Beau nodded. He gave you an apologetic look. “Sorry, gotta get back to the station.”

“Oh, of course,” you said. But you held up a finger. “Wait, just a sec.”

You hastened back over to the table of confections from brunch and offered them a chocolate chip muffin each for the road. Cassie politely declined, but Beau gladly took his.

“Although, are you trying to stereotype me or somethin’?” he teased.

Your brows furrowed in confusion, but after a moment, it hit you. You’d just given a cop a baked good.  

“At least it wasn’t a donut,” you quipped, despite your embarrassment. Beau still looked bemused, but he let you off the hook.

“That’s okay. I’ve never been known to turn down free food,” he assured.

“He really doesn’t,” Cassie confirmed. You noticed how she was waiting, arms crossed.

“Well, there you go! Sorry for keeping you,” you said.

“Not at all, darlin’,” said Beau. His smile had a charming gleam. “Nice to meet you.”

You quirked a smile back. “Wow, you are from Texas.”

You didn’t think you’d ever been called darlin’ in your life.

Beau’s good humor shifted into slight embarrassment himself.

“Sorry. I’ve been told to stop doing that,” he said. When he chuckled, you did along with him. You weren’t offended by it, just surprised by the old-fashioned endearment.

“It’s okay,” you said. “Nice to meet you too, Sheriff.”

You raised a hand in goodbye, and Beau returned it, watching you go. Meanwhile, Cassie watched him with a small smirk. He stepped down from the short platform in front of Emily’s tent to meet her.

“Were you just checking out Glamper Girl? In front of your daughter, no less,” Cassie remarked.

Beau shot her a look of denial. “I did no such thing. I’m a professional. And a gentleman, mind you.”

Cassie rose a brow at him. It stirred up a bit of his defensiveness. 

“But, I’ll have you know that Em had already moved on when I had a friendly conversation with the glamper,” he said.

Cassie rolled her eyes. Right.

That afternoon, you decided to bring your sketchpad and your modest collection of paints to the lake. You sat on the bank and tried to paint, while Mary joined the others in swimming.

“That looks nice,” Emily’s voice startled you from behind.

You twisted to look at her, and she gave you an apologetic look. She was dressed to go for a swim in a one-piece bathing suit and some shorts. She seemed more of a conservative dresser than typical high school girls her age. Maybe that had something to do with a policeman being her father, or maybe that was just her personality.

“Sorry,” she said, raising her hands.

“It’s okay.” You waved it off and gestured for her to sit beside you if she wanted. She did so, admiring your work over your shoulder. You felt a little embarrassed by it, but you didn’t mind her watching you try to paint ripples of light on the water.

“Are you an artist?” she asked.

You shot her a smile. “You’re very sweet, but no. I just started this year.”

You’d just Googled some therapeutic techniques instead of, you know, going to therapy. You just knew that if you did, your aunt would probably tell your parents, who would never let you hear the end of it. Specifically, why it was a waste of time. Your father especially would have something to say.

But one of the sources you found suggested trying out some creative outlets to calm the mind and think productively, but not create more stress for yourself. You’d tried a few different things, but landed on painting. It was working for you so far, even if you didn’t think you were that good.

“How do you like Montana so far?” you asked your companion. “Your dad told me you guys just moved here too, a few months ago.”

“Yeah, when my mom got remarried, my dad moved to stay close to me,” Emily explained.

Your brows raised. Your painting hand paused with the brush near the page.

“Well, that’s a good father,” you said. You smiled at the thought of Beau Arlen. The way he hugged his daughter before, like she was his entire world, and the fact that he’d moved entire states just to stay with her, told you a great deal about the town’s new sheriff.

Emily nodded, but her lips were pressed. “He’s a bit overprotective.”

“Well, he is a cop,” You said, smiling. “I assume that’s just part of the package.”

“I get that,” she said. “It’s just…a bit much sometimes.”

You gave her a sympathetic look. “I understand. My dad can be like that too. He’s got his soft moments, but he can be a real tough nut too… He’s a retired fireman.”

“Wow, that’s cool,” Emily said. She looked impressed. “Did you ever want to be a firefighter?”

You chuckled. “No, and he never wanted me to. It just wasn’t my beat, anyway.”

In the many years before your father had risen in the ranks to firehouse chief, your mother had often worried about him when he was on shift. Being a firefighter in inner-city Chicago had brought some hard and dangerous calls.

But you had always been more bookish, and both your parents were grateful for that.

You sighed. Your paintbrush made a stroke of deep green on the page, creating darker shades in the bottom of the lake.

“I did end up dating one though. Almost married him too,” you muttered, before you could stop yourself. You forgot you were talking to an insatiably curious girl.

“Really? What happened?” she asked. You looked over at her, and she was staring at you with her full attention. You remembered then that her podcast was supposed to be about relationships, but you had no desire to be a subject.

“It didn’t work out,” you said at last, and with difficulty.

“Why?” Emily asked.

Your internal struggle kept you quiet. It gave time for Emily to really see the withdrawn, almost pained look on your face, the slight hunch of your shoulders. She deflated guiltily.

“Uh, sorry,” she said.

You offered a small smile. “It’s okay, honey.”

“I’ll uh, just let you get back to painting,” she said. You waved her goodbye after she got up and left, giving you one last look before she joined her stepfather in the lake.

You let out a deep breath. The teen was tenacious, and naturally curious. That in itself wasn’t such a bad thing. But as you watched her splash at Avery, laughing that weightless laugh that kids got to have, you realized how much you missed being that young and free in your heart.

Again, out of habit, you set down your brush and rubbed at your empty left ring finger.

Mary finally joined you back in your shared tent after a long night of socializing by the fire. You had kept to the tent, reading Much Ado About Nothing for one of your classes that would start in the fall. It wasn’t your first time reading the Shakespeare play, by any means, but you did want to brush up on it.

“You know, you’re actually supposed to be vacationing on this vacation,” Mary pointed out. She started changing into her pajamas for bed. You were already cozy in one of your old college hoodies and some shorts, not to mention snuggled under the warm blankets.

“I am,” you said defensively. “I hiked, I painted, I ate no less than one burger, a basket of fries, and three smores, and now I’m reading.”

“Yeah, for school,” she pointed out. “I may not be as smart as you, but I know homework when I see it.”

You shot her a smile. “You’re plenty smart, M.”

She snorted and slipped into bed beside you. It felt like the sleepovers you two used to have in college, years ago, when she’d come to crash in your dorm, or you in hers. She’d been a philosophy major (despite not giving two shits about Socrates), forced to attend college by her parents. You were an English major, working three part-time jobs just to get you through until graduation.

“Hey,” she said, laying a hand on your shoulder. You turned to her in question. She seemed more serious than usual.

“I’m worried about you,” she said. “And I’m not the only one.”

You sighed. Lowering your book, you leaned back against your pillows and stared up at the tent’s fairy lights.

“I know,” you replied. “But you don’t need to be.”

“Yeah you keep saying that, but you know the real reason I’m here, right?” Mary asked. Her insistent hand on your arm made you meet her eyes.

“You don’t have to do this," she said. "You don’t have to move out here and leave everything behind. You should just come home with me. Your parents, our friends—everyone wants to be there for you, like we have all year.”

Your lips pursed, and you shook your head.

“I’m not going to change my mind. So if that’s really why you’re here, and not to just spend some time with me, as my friend, then you should just go home,” you said. “I’ll leave here and go to my aunt’s house. I’m sure your parents can negotiate some kind of refund.”

Mary got angry and huffy, just like you thought she would. You weren’t playing around though. This was your life, and your decision.

If your friends and your family couldn’t be happy for you, or at least understanding, then they could at least respect you. You just weren’t sure when they’d get the hint that this was real.

You were moving to Montana, permanently.

On the drive back into town from the camping site, Beau ate his chocolate chip muffin and tried his best to listen to Cassie—to her theories on where the backpacker might’ve gone, and how best to tell the parents to keep her on this investigation.

A good part of him was still thinking about his daughter, wishing he could be there with her right now. 

And maybe, his mind occasionally wandered…thinking about the pretty shade of your eyes when you smiled at him.

AN: And there we have it, Part 1 of a new series! If you liked it, please let me know! 🥰

And a special Happy Birthday to @jackles010378! 💖 I was going to say we're both Aries (mine is next month) but forgot Pisces comes first lol. ♓

Next Time:

The trees were tall and dark now. The moon was filtering through them like the sun had during other day hikes, but it was much more ominous at night.

“Shit,” you muttered. You gripped your flashlight in worry as panic started to well up in your chest.

Now you were lost.

You jumped with a start when the hoot of a bird passed by overhead.

Shiiiit. This was very bad.

You kept moving forward on what you thought was the trail. That was all you could do, keep moving forward. You made a few turns around some trees, occasionally calling out for Sunny, or Mary, or anyone to hear you.

▶️ Keep Reading: Part 2

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