#and I’m like ‘I’d fucking hopes so with the rate you chop those things down’

[victorieschild]

Grievous: *kills at least 30 clones and destroys a ship containing countless more*

Anakin, who rescued 1 (one) Jedi and didn’t even capture Grievous: at least we all lived to fight another day :)

#ctcwr #cal watches #the clone wars #s2e9 #Jesus fucking Christ #and this is supposed to be one of the guys who cares abt clones #istg this is insane #the most shits these ppl give when a clone dies is maybe a sad head shake #kenobi’s like ‘the largest clone army in the galaxy? but it has no spirit! no loyalty!’ #*droid #and I’m like ‘I’d fucking hopes so with the rate you chop those things down’ #the pieces of shit are literally like ‘let’s literally breed people just to die’ #I know that’s like. one of the central pieces if tension in this show #but I feel like I’m the episodes where they don’t focus in that #they genuinely treat the clones like shit #like there’s episodes where Anakin and Obi-Wan are depicted as caring abt the clones #but then they literally don’t even blink at clones getting massacred #smh smh

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 294: A Half-Assed Escape

Previously on BnHA: Mirio was all “SURPRISE I’M BACK THANKS TO OUR RESIDENT SEVEN-YEAR-OLD WHO RECENTLY EARNED HER BACHELOR’S OF BEING A TOTAL BADASS.” Kacchan was all, “you know what, Dabi’s been trending long enough, time to remind the fandom what a real G looks like,” and he blasted his little bleeding body back into the fray and was all “FROM HERE ON OUT CALL ME DYNAMIGHT!!” Mirio was all, “AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA... oh, you’re serious,” and Kacchan was all “!!”, and so that’s the story of how my son got murdered twice in one day. Meanwhile in the Todoroki Drama Zone, Deku was all “STOP MURDERING MY FRIEND” and Dabi was all “THAT’S NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS” and fandom had a whole big debate about Whether Or Not Dabi Trying To Murder Deku’s Friends And Mentors Is Any Of Deku’s Business, which went exactly how you think it went. Anyway, so then Deku yelled at Dabi, and Endeavor was all moved by his manly words and randomly went to go uppercut Machia in the chin. And, seeing as how the Momoserum finally chose that exact moment to kick in, Machia is now down for the count.

Today on BnHA: The Miriosquad handles the Nearly High End Noumus, freeing up Jeanist to jasphyxiate (okay that one doesn’t really work so well) the rest of the League. Compress is all “TIME FOR THIS MILD-MANNERED SIDE CHARACTER VILLAIN TO SHINE”, except that by “shine” what he actually means is “use his quirk to punch a literal hole right through his own ass to free himself.” The rest of the chapter is basically just a back and forth between him and Jeanist, with Jeanist trying to recapture him, and Compress repeatedly thwarting him by chopping more holes out of himself because HE’S FRESH OUT OF FUCKS, AND THE ONES AT THE STORE ARE ALL SOLD OUT, MOTHERFUCKERS. Anyway, so with Compress basically dying and all, Horikoshi is all “you know what that means”, and delivers a freshly-baked villain flashback revealing that Compress is a descendant of Harima Ouji, a.k.a. the Peerless Thief, a.k.a. some famous guy whom Gentle mentioned this one time for like two seconds back in the day. The chapter ends with Compress finally demasking himself and dumping Tomura back onto the ground, a.k.a. The Worst Possible Place For Tomura To Be. ( •﹏•)

WHY IS CRUST HERE YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO BE DEAD

-- OH WAIT, SHIT. OH

AIZAWAAAA you’re alive and receiving medical help thank GOD. HOW MANY EYES DO YOU HAVE. AND MIRKO!! HOW MANY LIMBS DO YOU HAVE, OMG

so is this Aizawa dreaming about Crust’s final moments, then?? jesus. with All Due Respect to Crust’s memory, does Aizawa not already have enough misplaced guilt on his conscience as it is?? “nope, we’re gonna keep piling it on. that’s all he is now. three limbs, an indeterminate number of eyes, sexy hair, and Guilt” well shit

motherfucker y’all really out here placing an oxygen mask on Gran Torino’s corpse. fucking shounen characters. each one comes with a lifetime warranty

DAMN YOU HORIKOSHI WHY DO YOU KEEP SHOWING THESE CLOSE-UPS OF HAWKS’S UNCONSCIOUS FACE ALL WHUMPED OUT AND EXHAUSTED. HOW MUCH MORE OF THIS ARE WE GOING TO GET. ARE YOU PLANNING ON KILLING ME WITH THE UPCOMING CONVALESCENCE ARC, BECAUSE IF SO, AT LEAST HAVE THE DECENCY TO TELL ME AHEAD OF TIME SO I CAN MAKE A WILL

for a moment I considered going back and checking my previous recaps to count how many times I’ve already made a joke about Dabi’s fire incinerating Hawks’s wings but not touching so much as a hair on his five o’clock shadow, so that I could calculate whether or not I could possibly get away with making that same joke one more time. but then I realized I could just do it in this kind of roundabout way I’m doing right now instead. so there you have it

FFFFFFFMT LADY AND MIDNIGHT NOOOOO

PLEASE BE ALIVE. PLEASE RESPECT THE SIGN ON THE FRONT OF THE BUILDING. THE ONE THAT SAYS “NO LADY CHARACTERS ALLOWED TO DIE”, WITH THE FINE PRINT AT THE BOTTOM “AT LEAST NOT UNTIL HORIKOSHI GIVES US LIKE TWENTY-SIX MORE OF THEM FIRST IF THAT’S THE WAY HE WANTS TO PLAY IT.” IT’S A GOOD SIGN, PLEASE RESPECT ITS WISHES!!

so anyway though, Jeanist is giving a speech about how god knows how many people all worked together to bring Machia down. and now RHA is getting in on those fabric puns too, I see. “A SINGLE STRAND MAY BE THIN BUT TOGETHER THEY FORM A STRONG ROPE” oh so you think you guys are funny eh? I’m a frayed knot

MEANWHILE EXCUSE ME BUT WHY ARE YOU FUCKING CRYING BLOOD, HOLY SHIT

fffffff. so much for him taking over as the Number One once all this is over. so let’s just recap real quick, because Horikoshi has long since made it clear that one of his plot goals for this arc is to wipe out every single member of the Billboard Top Ten. so how we doin?

Endeavor - was just figuratively eviscerated in front of the entire nation by his homicidal zombiepunk son. also burnt half to death and possibly down a lung. will almost certainly be forced to retire after this one way or the other

Hawks - lying prettily in a medical tent. wings status: gone. hair status: still perfect

Jeanist - WELL I THOUGHT HE WAS FINE BUT APPARENTLY HE’S OUT HERE DYING, JESUS CHRIST

Edgeshot - MIA, last seen fighting Re-Destro. I really want him to have kicked RD’s ass because fuck that guy, but realistically they probably fought to a draw at best

Mirko - alive but in critical condition and missing something like 1.5 limbs

Crust - dead, currently haunting Aizawa’s traumatized dreams. now he’s gonna be triggered the rest of his life by people giving him the thumbs up, THANKS A LOT

Kamui Woods - was set on fire which is His Weakness. thoughts and prayers

Wash - last seen floating hospital patients to safety as Tomura’s wave of decay descended towards him. probably dead ffff

Old Man Samurai - haven’t seen this fucker in a hot minute, who even knows where he’s wandered off to

Ryuukyuu - currently being treated for her wounds, looked pretty bad off. but it’s hard to tell how hurt she is since most of the injuries were acquired in her transformed state. SHE BETTER GET WELL SOON

anyways, so yeah. so much for the top ten. guess that’s another reason Horikoshi brought Mirio back now, huh

so there’s a big panel of everyone fighting the Noumu while Machia lies there all “blurgh.” good riddance my dude. it took like twenty chapters and a hundred people to stop this guy so I really fucking hope he stays down. you’ve had your fun

anyway so Jeanist is sending another steel thread towards Dabi! and he’s all “just a bit more!!” fklklj this is gonna go real well isn’t it

meanwhile Mirio’s fighting a Nearly High End with all of these weird rock formations jutting out of its skin. go on and kick his ass then, Mirio

“each of these guys is probably just as strong as the Noumu from Kyuushuu” hold on I thought Ujiko or Tomura or someone said that wasn’t the case? not that Mirio would know I suppose. anyways let’s just hope he’s wrong cuz if not these kids are probably screwed

kLSDKFHLSKHGLKLK OH MY GODDDD

IIDA FUCKING TENYA YOU’RE A PEACH. THINKS THE NAME IS OUTRAGEOUS, CHECK. USES IT ANYWAY, CHECK. “JUST BECAUSE I DON’T UNDERSTAND DOESN’T MEAN I CAN’T BE SUPPORTIVE.” WHAT A CLASS ACT

AND KACCHAN IS RESPONDING WITH AS MUCH DIGNITY AS HE CAN MUSTER

WOW, SON. IT’S ALMOST AS THOUGH YOU HAVE A HOLE IN YOUR TORSO, OR SOMETHING!! although listen up, real talk, the fact that Kacchan of all people can’t muster the energy to yell at someone questioning his ability to kick ass is HIGHKEY troubling and we may be in need of an intervention here soon :/

now Jeanist is finally turning his attention to the League! was... was it not already on the League. omg

ACTUAL SCREAMING AHHHHHH FUCK FUCKLK LK AHHLKHKFFFF

hey so um. what the actual fucked up hell. my soul left my body. imagine if you saw the reflection of this panel on your bedroom window. you would never sleep again

OKAY RHA TRANSLATORS ARE YOU HAVING YOURSELF A LAUGH AGAIN

THIS CANNOT BE WHAT HE’S ACTUALLY SAYING RIGHT. BUT IT’S RIGHT IN THAT UNCANNY VALLEY OF NOT BEING QUITE SURE, THOUGH... (　ﾟдﾟ)

(ETA: just a next-day clarification here, apparently my sleep-deprived ADHD word-skipping brain completely skipped right over the “a” in that last panel, so what I read was, “and Shigaraki’s limp noodle.” so yeah, the moral of this story is always read the speech bubble carefully before you start making running jokes throughout the rest of your post, folks.)

oh wow he’s really freaking out lmao

to be fair though, I’d argue that Dabi has gotten pre-tty close at this point :’) thrilled for him, really I am

but anyway, well then figure something out you big dramatic robot-armed fiend. didn’t you just say you could touch your own ass? can you not just Compress yourself to break free?? does it not work on you? or would you be stuck afterwards lol

(ETA: I was picturing him compressing his entire body at once, not just chunks of it. ghhhlkh.)

um

holy shit Jeanist. are you stupidly trying to cut off their air, or are you going for more of a sleeper hold (jleeper hold??) thing instead. the latter would be way smarter and faster and probably safer as well just saying

but unless Spinner is just being super dramatic, it sure looks like he’s fucking strangling them djslkjlk. this will certainly cement his popularity among the villain stans. good thing you’re not running for office any time soon bud

anyway so I have no idea what these guys are trying to do now. what is this

do you even have till the count of 5 at this rate. I mean

OH MY GOODNESS

HE’S REALLY FUCKING DOING IT!! HE’S COMPRESSING HIS BUTT!! OMFG. TOMURA HIDE YOUR NOODLE!!!

WHAT THE FUCK

DID YOU COMPRESS A PIECE OF YOUR OWN ASS. FUCKING WHAT. PUT THIS MAN’S PICTURE IN THE DICTIONARY NEXT TO THE WORD “LOYALTY”, HOLY CRAP

HOLY SHIT COMPRESS

“HOLY SHIT DID THAT GUY JUST PUNCH A HOLE THROUGH HIS OWN ASS IN ORDER TO SAVE HIS VILLAIN PALS. FUCK IT, HE DESERVES TO ESCAPE”

jeez, talk about... A HALF-ASSED ESCAPE ATTEMPT :D :D :D hahaha. but real talk though, Horikoshi has clearly never tried to leap twelve feet straight up in the air multiple times in succession with only half his glutes though. everyone, I regret to inform you that this panel right here on the left may be slightly unrealistic

also where the hell is he going to go?? did you pack a jetpack away in one of those little marbles sir. and what about Dabi?? and Skeptic too, I guess, but we don’t really care about Skeptic

(ETA: at this point I had to stop reading for about two hours because I had to go out and take care of something; that’s also why this is being posted later than usual lol. anyways so where were we.)

oh my lord

the existence of a translator’s note here implies that the earlier line about Compress being able to reach Tomura’s junk was not, in fact, ad-libbed. hmm. hmmmmmmmm

anyway so now he’s grabbing Compress again because OF COURSE HE IS, so now we’re right back to square one! except now Tomura and Spinner are secured inside of little marbles, and presumably Compress is the only one who can release them

oh nevermind he’s just maiming himself again instead, SHEESH

Skeptic a man is dying please have some goddamn respect

so, uh. is he gonna die, though??

I really can’t tell wtf is going on here, this is the most confusing the art has been in a while. Horikoshi put all of his spoons into that creepyass close-up panel earlier, that bastard

OMG WHAT ARE YOU SERIOUS

DON’T FUCKING TELL ME THE “COMPRESS IS RELATED TO THIS THIEF GUY FROM OLDEN TIMES” THEORY IS ACTUALLY TRUE WHAAAAAAT. OH SHIT

so apparently Harima was a Robin Hood type guy who stole from... heroes?? wtf. are heroes the 1% in this scenario. y’all didn’t have any Fortune 500 CEOs to steal from?

THAT’S THE BLOOD THAT FLOWS THROUGH YOU, OH SHIT. and in a related oh shit, the fact that we are getting a Compress flashback now of all times doesn’t bode super well for him. ffff

MEANWHILE THE TODOROKIS ARE STILL TODOROKI-ING

listen here boy if you touch one freaking hair on Shouto’s candy cane head I swear to god --

WHAT DID I FUCKING SAY!!!

SHOUTO NOOOOOO. WTF YOU’RE LITERALLY THE ONE GUY WHOSE WEAKNESS IS ABSOLUTELY NOT SUPPOSED TO BE FIRE. DABI YOU SHIT, YOU BETTER WATCH YOURSELF!! I’M PRINTING OUT A COPY OF THAT COMPRESS PANEL!!! KEEP AN EYE OUT ON THAT BEDROOM WINDOW YOU PUNK!!!

SO NOW POOR SHOUTO IS UNCONSCIOUS AND FALLING!! SOMEONE SAVE HIM!! WHO CATCHES THE CATCHER

COMPRESS LITERALLY HOW ARE YOU STILL ALIVE RIGHT NOW, WHAT IS HAPPENING

PLEASE DON’T CALL TOMURA LEADER OF THE “PLF” YOU KNOW I CAN’T TAKE IT SERIOUSLY WHEN YOU DO THAT. ARE YOU DYING. ARE YOU JUST A FUCKING HEAD NOW WTF

(ETA: “masks are removable, makeste” you know what it’s been a long day okay lmao. or I suppose Compress is really the one who is lmao.)

GASPPPPPP

okay. okay. looooool okay then

WHY WERE YOU COVERING THIS SEXY MOP OF HAIR UNDER THAT HOOD YOU TOOL. IT WOULD HAVE LOOKED SO GOOD WITH THE TOP HAT. I’M SO MAD AT YOU RIGHT NOW

as if it wasn’t enough for him to demask himself, he also had to get all shirtless and then do this weird attempt at a sexypose too huh

hard to say exactly how much of his torso is currently missing, but safe to say that’s proooooooobably not good. :///// fuck

on the other hand, Kacchan also has a torso hole and he’s still flying around like he just drank a dozen red bulls, so

this man lost his ass and he’s still out here monologuing like it’s the last two minutes of The Prestige. one might say he is monologuing his ass off

so he let Spinner and Tomura free, but is Dabi still trapped in his marble?? wasn’t he all on fire and stuff?? hopefully he can still turn off his quirk in there because if not that’s a pretty fucked up way to die. somewhere out there Snatch’s ghost is all “YEAH I’LL SAY.” oh how the turntables

last but not least, sooooooo. Tomura. back on the ground. that’s. um. ...shiiiiiiiit

#bnha 294 #mr. compress #...and actually that's pretty much it lol #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha #sorry this is up later than usual (and mostly unedited as well) #just one of those days

[nethandrake]

do i wanna know?

stevetony. mcu. rated t. 2.8k words.

for @ishipallthings

also on ao3.

*****

He hears before he sees them, their voices loud enough for Steve’s ears to pick up.

Steve reaches for his hand towel, dabbing the sweat trickling down his head and cheeks. “Uh, JARVIS? Who—”

“Miss Romanov, Mr Storm, and sir.”

Steve couldn’t help but scowl at that. Wonderful. Just what he needs right now.

And to think that he could hole up in here, away from...them.

There are many things a lot of people don't know about Steve, one of them is that he isn’t very fond of the Fantastic Four.

Okay, that might be stretching things. It’s not like he hates them. He actually admires how well they work together, which makes sense considering they’re family, and well enough with the Avengers. It helps that both teams get on well with each other, going so far as to taking vacations and hosting monthly gatherings.

Ben’s a blast to have around during Game Nights (how he wins every single time during poker, Steve will never know) and while Reed might talk circles around Steve’s head (not on purpose, of course), he can’t help but admire his intelligence, only second to Tony. He doesn’t have anything negative to say about Sue and not just because he’s afraid of losing a limb. She’s a total sweetheart and fun to gossip with.

And then, there’s Johnny Storm.

Speaking of Johnny Storm, he swaggers inside the gym like he owns the place, his smug grin ever plastered on. He has an arm around Tony’s shoulder, a detail Steve tries hard to ignore. Thankfully for his sanity, Natasha trails in after them.

“Hey, Cap,” she says as the trio comes to a stop in front of Steve. “Up for a spar?”

“Uh, sure.” Steve’s eyes trail over to the person next to him, almost freezing at the sight of Tony clad in a black tank top. And judging by the light sheen on his tanned skin and the way the cloth clings to his lithe frame, he must’ve been down in the workshop before this.

God, those muscles and that stupid tank top are going to be the death of Steve.

“Hey,” he manages, inwardly cringing at how breathless he sounds.

Out of the corner of his eyes, Natasha rolls her eyes.

Tony flashes a toothy grin that might or might not make Steve feel lighter. “Hey yourself.”

Steve couldn’t help but break into a smile of his own.

“And just what am I?” Johnny demands, placing his hands on his hips. “Chopped liver?”

Just like that, the moment’s ruined. Steve fights off the urge to roll his eyes.

He'll never figure out how the Fantastic Four could stand him.

Tony chuckles, clapping Johnny on the shoulder. “He probably thought he was looking at the mirror.”

Steve feels himself scowl at that.

Right. How could he forget that one little detail? For some reason, people seem to think that Johnny's the spitting image of Steve, from the blond hair to the startling blue eyes to the chiseled jaw.

Steve might've found the comparison amusing, if Johnny isn’t such a hot-headed brash asshole, a self-centered flirt who can’t, for the life of him, take anything seriously. In fact, Steve might've found Johnny tolerable or god forbid—

“Hello? Earth to Spangles?”

Steve blinks, finally noticing the hand Johnny’s been waving in front of him. “Sorry, I was just...just wondering why the both of you are here.”

He instantly regrets the accusatory tone when Tony flinches. If he hadn’t been for his four-year friendship with Tony, Steve's pretty sure he wouldn’t have noticed. Tony's tells are subtle like that.

Johnny waves his hand around in dismissal. “Oh, you know. Thought I’d get Tony to take a break. Figured he needs some fresh air, maybe some eye-candy to ogle.”

Tony snorts, crossing his arms. “Again with that shit. Yeah, yeah. You got me out of the workshop. It isn't something to gloat about.”

“Hey, I have the right to gloat about it. You're as bad as Reed when he gets into the zone.” Johnny smirks. “Even Sue could hardly tear him away from work.”

“I get Tony out of there all the time,” Steve blurts out.

“You mean, you have to haul his ass over your shoulder,” Natasha pipes up.

Steve shifts his glower down at her. She meets him with a cool gaze, her lips curled in a half-smile.

Johnny’s lips shift into his trademark Cheshire grin, waggling his eyebrows. “Now, that’s an image I’d love to see.”

“I think I have a pic or two—”

“Nat!”

Natasha rolls her eyes. “Alright, alright. Party pooper.” She pokes his shoulder before sauntering away. “C'mon, you big lug.”

Steve trails after her, throwing a backward glance at Tony and Johnny as he goes. They’ve taken residence on a nearby bench, their heads bent together as they murmur to one another. Judging by the blush on Tony’s cheeks and the self-satisfied grin on Johnny’s face, it’s saved to say that they’re flirting.

Again.

From the moment they’ve met, Johnny seems to have taken a shine to Tony, following him around like a lost puppy and flirting with him like there’s no tomorrow. It's bizarre. It's not like Tony's friendship with Reed, which is built on science and research. They barely have anything in common, besides their reputations as ‘playboys’.

Is Johnny actually interested in Tony? Why would Johnny even consider dating Tony? For one, Tony’s way too old for him. Johnny’s in his early, mid-twenties? Sure, Steve’s younger than Tony too but he’s closer in age (and no, his true age doesn’t count).

Plus, Steve’s a master tactician. He has superstrength, superhearing, able to heal quickly. What can Johnny do besides bursting into flames? If Tony wants skywriting written in fire, Tony could just build a machine that could—

A nudge to his head snaps Steve out of his thoughts. He whips behind him, meeting Natasha’s knowing smirk.

Which could only mean one thing.

“My eyes are up here, Cap.”

Steve groans. “Nat—”

“I’m just getting your attention,” she replies, the perfect picture of innocence. “Nothing else.”

The sparring session starts out fine. As usual, Natasha proves to be the perfect sparring partner, easily keeping up with Steve’s stamina and is agile enough to meet his jabs with ease.

But then he hears a familiar giggle behind him and then he loses focus.

Steve blinks, meeting Natasha’s cool gaze as the pain in his side ebbs away. She has an eyebrow raised knowingly.

“Wanna take five?”

“I’m fine,” Steve replies gruffly, raising his fists.

“I could get them to leave—”

“No!”

Natasha’s other eyebrow shoots upwards.

Heat begins creeping up Steve’s neck. “I mean, I—”

“Everything all right there?” Tony calls out from the bench, looking and sounding worried. Next to him, Johnny’s grinning, looking like a cat who just ate a canary.

Steve really, really wants to wipe that smirk off his face.

“I’m good!” he replies. “I mean, we’re good.”

Tony’s frown deepens but thankfully doesn’t seem to pursue the subject.

When Steve and Natasha resume their spar, Steve makes sure to jab harder and dodge faster, to try to win. He knows he’s getting reckless. Sloppy.

But he needs this, needs this distraction. Needs to forget.

And then pain explodes over his face.

Steve doesn’t even register what’s happened until he feels callused but warm hands cupping his face and a voice frantically yelling in his ear.

“—eve! C’mon, buddy. Are you okay? Wh—”

And that’s when he realizes he’s sprawled on the mat, Tony holding his face in his hands.

For a brief moment, he lets himself lean into the touch, bask in Tony’s concern before he meets a pair of azure blue eyes behind Tony.

Immediately, Steve yanks away from Tony’s touch, jumping to his feet.

“I’m fine. It’s nothing.”

“It’s definitely not nothing,” Tony retorts, reaching forward again. “Your face is bruising—”

“It’ll heal.”

“Still. At least let us—”

“I said, I’m fine!”

Tony flinches. Johnny’s eyebrows shoot up. Natasha remains impassive.

An invisible lump forms in Steve’s throat. Oh, he definitely fucked up.

Truly, truly fucked up.

“I—I have to go.”

He’s out of the room before anyone could stop him, making a beeline for the elevators because fuck, he fucked up so bad.

Steve needs to get away. Away from Tony and Natasha and Johnny freaking—

“Shit,” he mutters to himself, jabbing at the elevator buttons, whiling, hoping that it’ll come. It better come because goddamn it—

“Steve!”

He doesn’t bother looking over his shoulder, dashing over to the emergency stairs instead.

Thankfully, Tony doesn’t follow.

*****

read the rest on ao3.

#stevetony #stony #steve x tony #steve rogers #tony stark #*fic

[downwiththeficness]

A Need So Great-Chapter 14

Summary: Eva Moore is assigned to work the last year of her contract with the DEA in Colombia. She just wants to get to the end of her tenure, but she keeps getting drawn further into a string of murders in the city. It isn’t long before she’s forced to face the ghosts of her past.

Word Count: ~3,300

Warnings: Smut

A/N: For the purposes of this story, Carrillo isn’t married--or, if you like, divorced. A/B/O dynamics are prevalent, and they come with their own warning. The overall rating for this story is Explicit, although not every chapter will contain adult themes.

Taglist: @dirtynerdy98 @1zashreena1 @heresathreebee @deliciouslyclassytrash @maybege @kid-from-new-zealand @clydesducktape @revolution-starter @autumnleaves1991-blog @jedi-mando @buckysalefty @anaeve

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 8.5, 9, 10, 10.5, 11, 12, 13, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21

The ocean was huge. Wind blowing her hair around her face as Eva sat on the cliff’s edge, her feet swinging. The waves were rushing towards her, the tide coming in. She could taste salt in the air, could feel a light spray even from this height. This was really, really nice.

Footsteps sounded behind her, Horacio ambling up the slight incline. He was wearing a t shirt and jeans, a far cry from his normal attire. Eva admired the way the denim clung to his legs, the shirt stretching to accommodate the breadth of his body. She gave him a little wave before turning her attention back to the water. He sat down next to her. They had spent almost a week at the house, their existence a soft moseying pace that belied the very real danger to their lives.

“Do you come here a lot?”

He shook his head, “I used to, back before I took the badge. The work kind of got in the way of taking any time off.”

She had seen that first hand, could tell that he was desperately soaking up the softness of this little hideaway, storing it for when he needed it most. Tucked away as they were, Eva could almost forget all of the turmoil waiting for them when they returned. She imagined he felt nearly the same way.

“Shame that you’re here under these circumstances.  This is a nice place.”

Eva could see him look at her from the corner of her eye. He placed a hand atop hers, “Its not a shame, just a compromise.”

Her mouth thinned, “Still…” She trailed off, not sure where she was going with the sentence.

He squeezed her hand, “Up. Dinner’s ready.”

Eva was not much of a cook, though she was pretty good at making staple foods.  Horacio, on the other hand, clearly learned something from his mother. The way he handled himself in the kitchen was much like he did at work—mission oriented. Eva would sometimes sit at the dining table and flip through an old magazine, not really reading it.  She like to watch him move around, a knife in hand to chop vegetables, or flipping over meat in the pan to brown it.

Today’s meal was a stuffed pepper, spices wafted in the air. He’d made rice to go alongside it. From the cellar, he’d pulled a bottle of wine, two glasses already waiting at their usual spots. Eva couldn’t keep the smile off her face as she sat down.  He’d already plated their food and she leaned down, inhaling.  

“This looks amazing,” she murmured, picking up her fork, “Thank you.”

He made a non-committal sound, as he usually did when she complimented him on his cooking. She cast him a long glance, noting that he was avoiding her gaze by pouring the wine. He did that a lot, took the praise she gave him and pulled it inside himself. She could tell he was pleased by the little flush across his cheeks, but other than that, it was as if he hadn’t heard her. She wondered if that was a product of his life—couldn’t be too eager for approval.

After dinner, Horacio left her on the couch to do a walk of the perimeter, as he did every evening before they locked up. It would take one of his patented interrogation techniques to get her to admit how attractive it was to watch him load a rifle and take the path around the house and out towards the woods.

He would be gone for an hour or so, depending on what he decided needed further investigation. Eva passed the time by taking a long shower and reading yet another way too old magazine in bed. The bedroom windows were open and the breeze was carrying the smell of the ocean inside.

The sun was almost set when he came back, moving into the bedroom and storing the rifle in a case that he kept laying on the chest at the foot of the bed. He straightened and looked at her for a long moment.

“What?” she asked, feeling anxious under his steady stare.

His expression softened, “I like you like this.”

Laughing softly, she lifted a brow, “You mean wearing a t shirt I’ve owned for five years and my hair still wet because I couldn’t be bothered to dry it?”

The corner of his mouth quirked up, “I mean relaxed.”

Eva supposed that she was relaxed, though she had every reason not to be. She liked him relaxed, too.

“I feel safe.”

Jaw going lax, he regarded her for a few more seconds before giving a curt nod and turn, “I’m gonna get cleaned up.”

Eva noticed that he took a little longer in the shower than usual, had done so since they got to the safe house.  She tried not to read into it too deeply, knowing that he was off his schedule. And, everyone needed alone time.

When he left the bathroom, steam billowed out behind him, carrying the scent of his body wash. He was wearing his usual boxer briefs in a deep maroon. It was a good color for him, accenting the warm undertones of his skin. She stared at him, unabashed, and wondered how she’d gotten so lucky as to share a bed with such a beautiful man.

“What?” he asked, noting her look as he crawled in beside her to lay on top of the covers.

Eva set her magazine on the night stand and rolled to her side, bracing on her palm so that she hovered above his prone body.

“I like you like this.”

In the next second, Eva got to see those adorable dimples, his teeth flashing as he smiled. She leaned down and kissed him affectionately.

When he spoke next, his voice reverberated against her ear where it lay on his chest. He toyed with her hand, threading his fingers through it.

“We’ve come a long way these last few months.”

She hummed, nodding. His hand was calloused in a few places, the longer fingers curling over her palm. Her hand looked small when he held it, her wrist even smaller, her forearm positively tiny when compared to his.

“I never would have guessed after that meeting that I’d get to bring you here.”

Eva grinned, looking up at him, “I was a fucking mess after that meeting. I hope you know that.”

The features of his face tightened in a peculiar way, an involuntary twitch.

Eva’s grin widened, “That was an inside thought.”

Laughing, Horacio admitted, “It was.”

“Tell me.”

He started to shake his head, but Eva shifted to her belly, resting her weight on one elbow. She said his name in four long, drawn out, teasing syllables.

Pulling his lips between his teeth and releasing them, he simply said, “I was also a fucking mess.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he echoed, one hand coming up to run over his face, top to bottom. He covered his eyes, chin tilting up, “I…” deep sigh, “I went into rut after that meeting.”

Her brows hit her hairline, “Really?”

He dropped his hand to the pillow beside his head, the fingers relaxed, “I told you it took less than twenty four hours for me to start trying to figure out how to see you again.”

“Yeah,” Eva confirmed, “But I assumed you were just, I don’t know, thinking about me.”

Smirking, he said, “Oh, I was.”

Her breath caught a little bit, arousal blooming in her belly as she imagined him in rut, helplessly trying to get off as he thought about her.

Voice dropping low, Eva prompted, “Really?”

His eyes darkened as he tucked her hair behind her ear, “I barely made it home before I—I didn’t even get past the front door. Just dropped down to the floor and thought about how delicious you smelled, the things I wanted to do to you.”

Blood heating in her veins, Eva swallowed around a dry throat, “What kinds of things?”

Horacio’s arm tightened around her, his eyes dropping to her mouth, “That I wanted to kiss you. That I should have thrown you down on that table in front of that idiot manager and fucked you through at least three orgasms.”

Her breath left her in a rush. She worked hard to keep herself calm. He didn’t talk that much about his fantasies, and she was desperate to hear more from him. Eva did not want to interrupt.

She kissed him softly in encouragement, “What else?”

Breathing her name, he ran his thumb over her mouth, “I could scent that you were aroused when you sat down. I wanted to lick that sweetness from the source, use my fingers to scoop it out of you. I spent hours imaging what it would be like to pull your legs over my shoulders and kiss this pretty pussy.”

The fingers of one of his hands had traced up her inner thigh in a lazy caress. He cupped her, massaging very gently. She gasped lifting her leg over his hip to open up for him.

“We’re very lucky you haven’t had a heat cycle yet. Given how I was in my last rut, I’d probably lose my fucking mind.”

Eva flinched, feeling guilty.

“What was that?” he asked, head lifting off the pillow to regard her closely.

She floundered, trying to come up with a suitable lie.

“Eva,” he warned, “What was that?”

Voice small, she said, “I’ve had a heat recently.”

His head cocked to the side, “Before we met?”

She shook her head, “No it was after we met, after we started seeing each other.”

He blinked, “That’s impossible, I would have known.”

Unable to keep eye contact she admitted, “You weren’t there. It was when you were gone for that mission.”

He processed that for several seconds, his eyes narrowing more and more, “Your voice was strange on the phone.”

Eva nodded, “I was on the upswing of it. It got...more interesting over the next few days.”

Horacio’s brows furrowed, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Eva was torn by the honest, confused expression he was giving her, as if he couldn’t even fathom that she’d hide it from him. Guilty, she offered the only explanation she had.

“You were so excited. You said you thought you had a real chance at ending the whole cartel. How could I take that away from you? Especially since we’d only slept together a handful of times. It would have been selfish to ask you to set that aside for me.”

Stop talking, Eva, she thought.

Pushing off with one hand, he rolled her beneath him, resting his weight on his palms. Eva looked up at him silently, trying to gauge his thoughts.

“You’re not going to do that again,” he asserted, the muscles in his jaw ticking, “I will be with you during your next heat, no matter what is going on at the office.”

Lifting a hand, Eva brushed his cheek, his stubble scratching a little.  Since they’d come out here, he hadn’t been shaving every day and she found that she liked that he had something more than a five ‘o clock shadow.

“I’m going to need verbal agreement on this, Eva.”

“Okay,” she replied. “I’ll tell you next time.”

“Good.” He dropped to his elbows, resting a little more of his weight on her, “Now, I told you mine. Its your turn to tell me yours.”

Eva’s face went red hot, heat soaking every pore. Her eyes slid to the side as she contemplated how much information she was going to give him about a heat that she had only a moment ago admitted that she’d had.

Moving in close, his voice a deep rasp, he ordered, “Dime, amorcita. How did you get through it?”

She sucked in a breath, her body curling into him a little bit.  When she tried to rise up to kiss him, he used one hand to hold her down to the mattress, his chin canted down.

Eva’s mind flashed back to that day, her body clenching as she remembered the rush of pleasure, the cramps of pain when she couldn’t assuage the need.

“I slept some, woke up coming. My skin was too sensitive. And, at first, I couldn’t figure out why. It wasn’t until I was on the couch,” she stopped, biting her lip.

Her voice was a raspy thing, the words halting. She cleared her throat, squirming beneath his weight.

Horacio ran a soothing hand down her side, “What happened on the couch?”

“I touched myself, I felt like I would die if I didn’t come.”

Eyes full of fire, he asked, “And, did you make yourself come?”

She nodded.

“How many times?”

“Twice.”

With both hands, he pushed up her t-shirt to rest just underneath her breasts, “What happened next?”

Eva’s fingers curled into fists beside her hips, “You called.”

His eyes shot to hers, “And you lied to me.”

“No,” she cried, “I just...avoided the subject.”

Horacio’s nostrils flared in annoyance, “But, you’re not going to do that again.”

“N—no.”

He gave on sharp nod in acknowledgment of her submission, “Good. What happened after that?”

His hands followed a twin path over her sides to her hips to her thighs, all the way to her knees. Wrapping his hands around them, he pulled them up and over his body, pulling the cradle of her hips into alignment so that she could feel him hardening against her core.

“I had to crawl to the bedroom,” she continued, the flush of her arousal mixing with the feeling of embarrassment. “I didn’t make it to the bed before I had to come again.”

Kissing her collarbone, he asked, “Did you use your fingers?”

She nodded, gripping his biceps for purchase as he scraped his teeth along her skin.

“Did you use your fingers the whole time?”

Swallowing, Eva shook her head, knowing where this was going and completely unable to stop it. He’d gotten into a line of questioning, and she knew he’d see it through to the end.

“What did you use?”

She hesitated long enough that he stopped nuzzling her skin and looked up at her, waiting for an answer. When she didn’t say anything, he moved up her body, kissing her cheek sweetly, then her forehead, her chin, her jaw, everywhere but where she wanted him.

“What did you use?” he repeated, his breath fanning over her lips.

Eva struggled to breathe, “I used a toy—to help.”

Thumb rubbing her bottom lip, eyes focused on that sensitized patch of skin, he asked, “A vibrator?”

She shook her head, tongue peeking out to touch the pad of this thumb, “A dildo.”

With a little groan, he kissed her, putting a little pressure on her jaw so that she would open for him. Pulling in a sharp breath, he leaned back, an arm sneaking around her waist to hold her to him.

“Did it help you get what you needed?”

Again, she shook her head, “It helped some, but I was still hurting through most of it.”

His expression hardened just a bit, a barely perceptible glare. Needing to soothe that ire, Eva reached up with both hands and slid her thumbs into the muscle at the base of his skull, kneading. His eyes closed just a little, jaw relaxing.

“Did it,” he cut himself off with a sigh when she ground a knuckle into the tense muscle. He leaned into it, his head tilting to the side, “Did it have a knot?”

“Yes,” she whispered, biting the inside of her cheek when his hips flexed forward, grinding against her.

He kissed her again, a hard press of his lips, “Did you fuck yourself with it, push it inside you?”

Between kisses, she nodded. The memory of the relieving pressure scoring through her, her body arching up into him.

“But it wasn’t enough.”

It was sentence, a declaration, not a question. He knew it, she knew it.

“No,” she warbled, tilting her hips towards him, hands roaming over his strong shoulders and back, pulling him to her to that the wasn’t an inch between them. “I wanted more. Wanted you.”

In a swift motion, he pulled off her t shirt, throwing it over the side of the bed carelessly. His hands found her breasts, pushing them up to his mouth. Long licks, a pinch of skin, teeth scraping. Eva hissed  a breath, her body fairly vibrating with pleasure.

“You wanted my knot, didn’t you?” When she didn’t reply, he swatted her thigh lightly, drawing her attention, “Didn’t you?”

Her eyes squeezed shut, head thrown back, she made an ‘uh huh’ sound that cracked on the highest pitch.  He was hard against her, his hips rocking in a sharp rhythm that, had he been inside her, would have prodded against her cervix. Sweat beaded on her belly and thighs, pooling in the hollow of her throat. He licked at it, drawing her briefly into his mouth.

“You’d let me do it now, wouldn’t you? Let me knot you in this bed.”

The image seared through her, burning away any restraint she might have had—which was, admittedly, not much to begin with. Feet on the sheets, she used any leverage she could get to put more friction on her cunt, each roll of her hips more frenzied than the last.

“Yes, alpha.”

Growling, Horacio pushed his face into the bend of her neck, hands slipping underneath her and to her shoulders where he held her steady. Mouth opening, he ran his teeth over the long line from shoulder to jaw before settling on the scent gland he’d marked.  Though the bruising had healed, Eva could still see the faint scratch across it where his teeth had dug in. He sucked on it hard, sure enough to leave yet another bruise.

Eva wailed, a broken, sobbing thing, as she came. Nails digging into his back, she bowed up tight.  Distantly, she could heard him praising her, his voice rough.  He let her rut against him until her body eased down from the orgasm, and then he was pushing his briefs down and grasping himself, roughly stroking.

She took in the sight of him, chin down, breathing hard, working to get off. It stunned her how badly she wanted to memorize this moment, and how badly she wanted to seem him come. Both hands caressing downwards, she hooked the fingers of one hand into her panties, pulling them to the side. With two fingers of the other, she slotted them into her folds, opening them up to give him an unobstructed view of how wet he’d made her.

He choked on a gasp, groaning as his fist sped up. It only took a few pumps before he was spilling across her stomach, his head hanging low in relief. When he was spent, he collapsed to his side, trying to catch his breath.

Eva giggled, feeling more than a little lightheaded. He glanced at her, his mouth spreading wide in a smile. He picked up her hand from where it lay at her side, pressing a kiss to the inside of her wrist and holding it to his chest.  She could feel his heart beat beneath his skin, a steadily slowing rhythm.

When he’d calmed a little, he rose and went to the bathroom, bringing a wet cloth to wipe her down. Moving around the room, he closed the windows, locking them tight, before doing the same with the door. After turning off the lights, he eased into the bed and gathered her to his chest.  Eva held his arm to her body, threading her fingers in his.

#narcos #horacio carrillo #carrillo #A Need So Great

[pogueit]

Snip Snip Bitch

Sarah Cameron x reader!

A/N: Hello! I hope you like it as much as I enjoyed writing it!!

Summary: The one were you get a botched cut from JJ and Sarah is more than eager to help a dumb bitch out.

Songs: I wanna be adored by The Raveonettes, Eau D'bedroom Dancing by Bikini Kill, and basically Orville Pecks entire discography.

Warnings: None???

Word Count: 2,273

This week had to be the hottest week the OBX has ever suffered through. You were miserable as always, but especially so because while JJ and John B. were sent off to catch and relocate a gang of raccoons terrorizing a neighborhood in Figure 8 you had to go to the Cameron's residence, yet again. In the last couple of days, you had been sent by your dad to the Cameron's AT LEAST eight times to fix menial things around their property and half of those times were spent in Sarah Cameron's bedroom. 

Normally, it wouldn't be such a big problem since you've seen everyone’s room at this point, but certain feelings towards Sarah had shifted in recent months. You started sneaking little glances at her whenever she passed by, your heart would nearly implode when she would stop and say hello or bring drinks for the working crew (which JJ says she never did when you weren’t there), you began to do stupid things to get her to look over in your direction even if it was just for a second (like tackling JJ into the water, jumping off the top of the Druthers onto the dock, or spraying Rafe in the face with the power hose), and your stomach would drop to the earth’s core whenever you saw her with golden boy Topper. So, it wasn't hard to tell you had a thing for the blonde. When the pogues found out they relentlessly teased you about it and more terrifying they always opted out of jobs at the Cameron's and dumped them on you. You hated being sent over by yourself without your shitty wingmen because with your newly discovered feelings you couldn't help but be severely awkward around her. 

If you only knew she thought it was the cutest thing in the world. Sarah Cameron has spent the entire week destroying her house just so she could see you, again. She loved the not-so-sneaky-glances you shot her way when you thought she wasn't looking, the little faces you would pull when you were talking to Rafe, the absolute dumbest things you would do to get her to look at you, and how much you would reassure her she isn't a stupid fucking klutz for breaking everything in her room.

Sarah was praying that you would make a move already, but that has proved difficult with your newly developed shyness. So, she decided to break one more thing, her bathroom sink. She honestly doesn’t know how she did it but she did and now her insides are bubbling at the thought of you coming over.

You took JJ's cap on and off trying to settle your hair in a presentable way as you made your way up the pathway to the house. Now, you've suffered through a multitude of BAD haircuts, but this one has to take the cake. In your inebriated state, you decided you were long overdue for a haircut and a haircut you received. JJ seemed well versed in the haircutting trade as he's cut his own hair millions of times before without killing himself, this should’ve been no different. Your intoxicated decisions have failed you yet again and now you were stuck looking like a mutilated poodle. 

You couldn’t brace yourself just yet to face Sarah looking like a chopped onion so you decided to stop by and see what Rafe has fucked up this time. He was hunched over the red bike confusion engulfed his hard features as he meddled with the engine. 

"What's up with your bike?" You drop the toolbox which made him jump slightly.

"Jesus, you're back again?" Rafe playfully rolled his eyes at you.

"Well, someones gotta unfuck up things around here" you squatted down next to Rafe "What's the problem?".

"It won’t turn over" you peered down at the dismantled vehicle in front of you. The simple solution to all his problems made a smile tug at the corners of your lips.

"Did you just take it out for a ride?"

"Yeah, I just got back, why?"

"You just need gas, dumbass" you finally let the shit-eating grin take over your face. 

"You're lying!" Rafe stated in disbelief as he stumbled over to check the empty fuel tank. 

"Fuck!" He groaned into his hands and took a seat on the ground next to you.

"And that's why your dad keeps me around"

"Shut up" Rafe smacked the brim of the cap down your face which exposed your last night mistake.

"What the fuck happened to you" it was his turn to laugh as you scrambled to hide your hair with the cap.

"Fuck you" 

"It doesn't look that bad... with the hat on" he tried his best to stifle the laughter that brewed in his chest "Sarah won't care". You could feel your body freeze over when he mentioned his sister and hoped your voice won’t fail you. 

"A-and why do you think I c-care?" You mentally face palmed yourself upon hearing how the words left your dry mouth.

"You know why" He stood up from the paved road and extended his arm towards you "now go do what we paid you to do".

You trudged up the steps to Sarah's room. The warmth in your cheeks increased with each step and your heart was bouncing around in your chest. There wasn't anything you could do at this point, so you braced yourself and knocked. When the door flung open your heart broke through your rib cage and exploded into imaginary fireworks that lit up behind your eyes.

"Hey!" She beamed a gentle smile taking over her lips as she looked down at you. You had to restrain yourself from tucking a stray delicate strand of blonde behind her ear.

"Hey" you meekly responded and lifted up your shitty toolbox "heard you need your sink fix".

"Oh, yeah!" She beckoned you to follow her. Once you stepped into her room you could feel your heart rate pick up yet again and your stomach brewing with nerves. 

"It floods my bathroom every time I turn it on" she sighed as she sat down next to the sink, her legs softly swaying over the edge. You nodded as you squatted down to take a look under the sink leaving your toolbox next to Sarah. 

When the light from the flashlight hit the pipe you were surprised how fucked up they actually were.

"Fuck, this is broken broken" you mumbled as you peered at the battered metal pipes. From the corner of your eye, you could see Sarah try to suppress a guilty grin. There was only one pipe you could replace at that time and luckily it was the one with a huge crack down the middle. 

“Uh, I can only replace one part today, I’ll have to come back tomorrow to fix the rest” you could have sworn you saw her eyes light up when you mentioned the prospect of coming back, but you just brushed it off. Sarah was eager to lend a helping hand, always handing you different tools, never the right ones, but you appreciated it, especially so, when your hands would briefly meet ever so often. 

It was quiet for a moment before Sarah had an impending question she just had to get an answer to. 

"Are you and JJ like a thing?" when the question left her lips your head jolted back slamming against the underbelly of the sink.

"Fuck, w-why would you think that?" You leaned back against the wall opposite of Sarah and held the back of your now dented head.

"Well... I ALWAYS see you guys together and half the clothes you’re wearing right now are his" 

"Fair enough" you nodded glancing down at your outfit which did indeed mainly consist of the boy's clothes "but we're definitely not a thing, as for the hat I got a botched cut".

"You have to show me!" Sarah’s eye’s immediately lit up.

"Uh, most definitely not"

"I won't laugh I promise!" you sighed as you slowly took off the only thing making you look like you had a normal haircut. She shrieked when her eyes finally saw the disaster before her. Sarah slid herself off the counter and kneeled down next to you taking your warm face into her soft hands. The proximity of both your faces was about to send you into a cardiac arrest.

"Do you want me to fix it?" She finally spoke up after marveling at the complex haircut you had received.

"Uh, no yeah if you think you can even fix it" your cheeks were on fire from the embarrassment you never wanted to kill JJ so much in your life. 

"I can at least make it better than this" she ran her hand through your hair which in turn made your whole body flare up with goosebumps.

She instructed you to sit on top of the sink counter facing the mirror as she gathered a towel and scissors. She then gently clipped the towel around your neck making sure it wasn't strangling you. 

"Are you ready?" She peeked over your head staring at you through the mirror. You could barely nod because your mind was just thinking about her warm hands on your cold shoulders.

"If it still looks ugly we can always shave it" she giggled when your eyes almost fell out of your sockets at the mere thought of shaving your head.

"Umm, how about no?"

"What? I think you'd look so cute!"

"I'd look like I'm 10!"

"It would still be cute" she mumbled as she began to snip the mutilated strands. You two stayed silent for a while the sharp sound of the scissors taking over. You tried your best not to stare at her as she worked on your hair, but she was just so darn cute when she was concentrating. Meanwhile, Sarah’s smile continued to grow each time she caught your eye making it hard for her to focus on fixing your hair.

"Almost done just need to fix the front '' she motioned you to turn around and face her. You did as you were told uncrossing your legs in the process. Sarah then made herself comfortable between your legs and brushed some loose hair off your cheeks with her fingertips.

"Are you breathing there y/n?" Sarah giggled looking down at you. A strangled "Yep" managed to escape your lips. All you wanted to do was reach out and kiss her already, but you couldn't risk the embarrassment of rejection. What would the “kook princess” herself want anything to do with a dirty pogue only bred to mow lawns anyway? The only thing you could do now is just cherish this only type of intimacy you will ever get out of the girl. 

When the snipping stopped your stomach dropped. 

"All done! You're officially the coolest bitch in the OBX!" She smiled down at you running her hands through her latest masterpiece. Sarah didn't make any effort in moving from her current position which is still standing snuggly in between your thighs. Silence once again took over the room as you both focused on the proximity of one another. So close, yet so far away. Each of you fighting within yourselves to be brave enough and confess. Sarah's hands danced around your sitting thighs not sure whether to finally give in and touch your bare thighs. 

"So, are you going to kiss me or what?" Sarah finally broke toying with the frayed hem on your shorts. You could clearly see the impatience riddled across her soft features and you were more than happy to oblige. You gently cupped her face with your trembling hands before smashing your lips against hers. You will forever be grateful to JJ for showing you the wonders of exfoliating your lips, as your lips glided with ease against Sarah’s. The kiss was rough and frenzied as both of your suppressed emotions were finally being attended to. Your hands quickly entangled themselves into her golden locks pulling her even closer. Sarah's hands wandered up your exposed thighs making you erupt into goosebumps before securely wrapping her arms around your waist. You could feel little fires erupting all over your body where her hands were and you could feel the struggle in your breathing, but you didn’t want this moment to end not just yet. 

You were the first one to pull away from oxygen deprivation and giggled seeing the girl chase after your lips and let out a whine. You marveled at how flushed her cheeks and swollen lips were. Sarah could spend the next century kissing you and still not get over the sensation of your delicate lips against hers, but she could tell there was something on your mind other than needing to breathe. 

“What?” she whispered, bringing her forehead to rest against yours. 

“What about Topper?” Even if he is one of the biggest assholes in the Outer Banks you didn’t think it was fair to the boy.

“That dickhead? He’s just helping me out being my beard” she giggled as she ran her hands through your hair once again.

“Your beard” You couldn’t help but laugh. This entire time golden boy Topper was just helping Sarah out and all your maliciousness towards the poor boy was all for nothing.

“Does that make my girl happy?” Sarah giggled as your eyes snapped back up at her. Just those two words made your insides vibrate with a whirlwind of happiness. You didn’t say anything you just roped her another kiss, which you will definitely be doing more often. 

#sarah cameron #sarah cameron x reader #sarah cameron x you #sarah cameron obx #sarah obx #cameron obx #pogueit #sarah x reader #my fic

[zackcollins]

autograph || jacob markstrom

masterlist

Author’s Note: I was listening to music while I was taking a shower earlier. I got random inspiration from one of the songs that came on. I was honestly debating with myself whether or not to write it today. I wasn’t exactly in the best writing mood and wasn’t sure that end result would be good. I ultimately decided to write it (as you can tell). I decided that it was best to write it while the idea was still fresh in my mind. I hope I still did a well enough job while not being at 100% performance capabilities today. GIF credit goes to keeklee!!

Warnings: Alcohol consumption and mentions of being drunk. Nothing is overtly graphic or described in great detail. I tried to keep it on the tamer side just to be safe. If you need to avoid that, I understand and stay safe out there!!

Translation: There is one Swedish statement in this fic. It translates to “My darling.”

Word Count: 1.5k+

Inspiration: Autograph by Dallas Smith

Additional: The reader is feminine this time! Since I wanted a little more representation in my fics, I made the reader bisexual. She is mentioned to have had a girlfriend in the past. As for Markstrom’s response to finding out that information I’ll say one thing: I saw my fucking opportunity and I took it. I hope both of those things are okay and I hope you enjoy this!!

Jacob had been your best friend for years. You met when you were catering to one of the Canucks various events. He had spilled some of his wine on you when Henrik had bumped into him while rushing to grab the last of the Swedish meatballs before Edler could. He had apologized profusely and even offered to pay for the dry cleaning of your outfit. That’s where your friendship began.

 All these years later, your friendship was going strong as ever. He was currently over at your apartment, sitting on your couch and drinking a beer. You were in your kitchen, chopping some onions and carrots to add to the soup you were preparing for dinner. Just as you added the chopped vegetables to the pot, you noticed Jacob walk over to the island and take a seat at one of the barstools.

 “You know,” he paused, taking a drink from his beer bottle. “I bet you were the homecoming queen in high school.”

 “What makes you think that?” You walked over to the sink, pumped some soap onto your hands, lathered them together, and turned the tap on. You put one of your fingers under the stream of water to test the temperature. Satisfied that it was acceptable, you placed both hands under and started rinsing them.

 “You’re gorgeous,” Jacob chuckled. You heard him place the beer bottle on the island briefly before he picked it back up and took another drink. “You’re the girl everyone from a small town like yours would dream about. I bet every boy was lined up in whatever old blue jean fashion you guys wore to be your boyfriend.”

 Turning the sink off and grabbing a paper towel, you dried your hands off before turning to face Jacob. You leaned back against the counter and crossed your arms over your chest.

 “I was the homecoming queen,” you said, smiling.

 “Who was the homecoming king?” Jacob asked, taking another sip of his beer.

 “My girlfriend at the time. Her name was Amanda.” 

 Jacob smiled and raised his beer in salute. “Cheers. I’ll drink to that, bro.” As proof of his statement, he put the bottle to his lips and drank whatever was left inside of it. Making a satisfying sound he wiped his lips with the back of his hand when he was done drinking.

 “You know,” Jacob started, pointing the bottle toward you. “I’d change your autograph.”

 Raising a questioning eyebrow, you frowned. “What do you mean?”

 “I’d put my name on you,” Jacob replied. When you continued to look confused, he sighed and placed the beer bottle on the island. “I want to put a big ring on your left hand. I want everyone to know that I’m the lucky one that has Heaven’s girl on my arm.”

 Bringing your hand up to your face, you covered it. You felt a soft heat rising along your cheeks and the tips of your ears. You spread your fingers and looked at Jacob through the slats. He was smiling fondly and his eyes were showing signs of love and one too many beers.

 “I want to take you to the edge of town and get on one knee,” Jacob continued, using his hand to move toward the direction of town he was speaking about. “I really want to change your autograph, (Y/N).” He chuckled, running a hand through his hair.

 You brought your hand away from your face and smiled weakly at Jacob. The thing about this was you had been having more than platonic feelings for Jacob for a couple of years; you wanted to be his girlfriend more than anything. Hearing him say he wanted to marry you was making you feel things to you that you didn’t know you could feel. Your stomach was tied in all kinds of nervous knots; your heart rate was rivalling that of a jet going Mach 10; your face was burning with the passion of a volcanic eruption. You felt so strongly about this that you wanted to rush across the kitchen and kiss Jacob as passionately as you could.

 “Jacob,” you started, voice strained from your nerves. “You’re a little drunk. You don’t mean any of this.” 

 He chuckled and shook his head. “Of course I mean this! You’re a star in my world. I want you on the hood of my car,” he motioned out the window, presumably in the direction of the parking garage, “so you can blow me kisses like they do in the movies.”

 Sighing, you walked across the kitchen to sit on the barstool beside Jacob. He lit up and leaned his head onto your shoulder. You wrapped your arm around his shoulders and squeezed him closer before placing a kiss to the top of his head.

 “You should really let me change your autograph,” Jacob said, voice faltering a little. “I want to propose to you at sunset at the ocean on the edge of town. I want to give you a big ring that you customize to make it uniquely yours.”

 Swallowing thickly, you rubbed along Jacob’s upper arm. Jacob hummed and nuzzled in closer to you. He sighed at that moment, voice soundly slightly wet. You lifted his head with your other hand. Looking into his eyes, you noticed that he was crying. Sitting him straight up, you took both thumbs and wiped the tears away. Jacob grabbed your wrists and rubbed along the pulse points soothingly. You shivered and leaned into the touch.

 “I want everyone to know that you’re mine,” he said, bringing one of your wrists to his lips and kissing it gently. When he felt you shiver again, he smiled and brought the other wrist to his lips and kissed it. You shivered a third time and leaned into the sensation. “I want to skip dating and just go straight to marriage. The team says we act like a married couple as it is.”

 You felt your heartbeat hammering in your ears. Jacob’s team had become a second family to you in the years you had been friends with him. All the players that had come and gone were like the siblings you never had growing up. They meant the world to you--almost as much as Jacob did. If they said you and Jacob acted like a married couple there was no question that it was the truth.

 “We should talk about this when you haven’t had 4 beers,” you said. Your mouth felt dry as the words left your mouth. Every part of you hadn’t wanted to say what you had said but you knew it had to be done. You knew this conversation was one that needed to happen when Jacob was sober enough to understand the ramifications of what he was asking for.

 Tears fell silently down Jacob’s face as he looked at you with a blank expression. Despite that, he nodded. “Yeah, yeah. You’re right.” He grabbed your cheeks and gently soothed his thumbs across them. You shivered for what felt like the thirtieth time and leaned into the sensation. “Just know my opinion won’t change when I’m sober.” He leaned in and planted his lips against yours.

 You sat there, frozen for a moment. Jacob tensed against you and started to pull away. You quickly brought your hands up to cover his hands. You pressed firmly, holding him in place. Jacob relaxed and leaned back into the kiss. At that moment, you started moving your mouth fluidly with his, trying to keep up with his languid pace. It was a pace that you weren’t used to for kissing. You were used to vigorous, passionate kisses. This was languid and soft. You reminded yourself that Jacob had consumed 4 beers and that had probably slowed down his motor functions enough to affect his kissing abilities. 

 When you pulled apart, Jacob was panting slightly and had some hair stuck to his forehead. You took one of your fingers and brushed it aside. Jacob hummed and leaned into the touch. You smiled softly and kissed his forehead. Jacob chuckled and kissed the tip of your nose.

 “Mrs. (Y/N) Markstrom,” he said, grabbing both of your hands and interlacing your fingers. “Has a nice ring to it, right?”

 A soft feeling rushed through your veins. It did have a nice ring to it. You bounced the name around in your head a few times while Jacob looked at you expectantly. The longer it bounced around up there, the better it was starting to sound. You swallowed thickly and nodded at Jacob. Jacob grinned and took one of his hands away from yours to reach into his pocket. A moment later, he placed a jewellery box on the table.

 “I’m going to go sleep off the alcohol,” he said, motioning toward the guest bedroom. “You look that over and we’ll talk in the morning when I’m sober.” With that, Jacob leaned over and pressed a kiss to your temple before he slipped off the barstool and walked to the guest bedroom.

 You were left sitting there, staring at the box. You hesitated a moment before you opened it. The necklace inside made your heart and stomach swoop simultaneously. It had a simple heart charm with two distinct words engraved on it:

 Min Älskling

#jacob markstrom #jacob markstrom imagine #jacob markstrom x reader #vancouver canucks #vancouver canucks imagine #nhl #nhl imagine #hockey #hockey fic #hockey fanfic #hockey fanfiction #self insert #imagine #tw: alcohol #writing #fanfiction #title from a song #inspired by a song #freddie writes #writing fanfiction #hockey imagine #fanfic #fic

[cryptidsandcatacombs]

What If I Killed Someone For You

Rating: absolutely postively adult for violent yandere content. Anyone under the age of 18 better go away. No reading allowed for anyone under the age of 18. Plus there's like one adult joke in here so no one under the age of 18 allowed for that reason either.

Summary: This is literally fueled by my love of yandere content #nojudgingcringecultureisdeadandikilledit. Noe better watch himself because he's been my muse lately. Anyways uuuu idk yandere stuff here so you know someone's getting stabbed. We should probably do something about that, but we're not gonna. Thems the rules chief. No, you can't stop it either you total fucking killjoy. I'll start stealing toes if you do. What will I do with said toes? Black markets are a lucrative business and I need the money cause I'm broke fam. So really it's the economy's fault that I'm chopping toes. Say thanks late stage capitalism. This is brought to you by idk the monster under your bed who chops off the toes for me. He gets paid by the hour so try no to run too much ok.

Oh and this fic contains lyrics from If I killed someone for you by Alec Benjamin. Yes I'm inserting song lyrics into a fic like it's the early 2000s.

I'm packing up my things and I'm wiping down the walls I'm rinsing off my clothes and I'm walking through the halls I did it all for her So I felt nothing at all I don't know what she'll say So I'll ask her when she calls

Would you love me more? If I killed someone for you

Oz was considered by most a laid back sort of guy. Never angered easily. He can get frustrated like every other person, but not so easily angered.

However, despite his laid back nature, he had a vice. Jealousy. One that he was very self aware of. He often tried not to let it get the better of him, but there it was. A beast clad in green with eyes of emerald staring him directly in the fact tempting him with its siren song.

The siren song came in the form of Noe Archiviste and....whoever this girl was that was hanging all over Noe right now. She had a voice as sweet as molasses and brown curls that fell down her shoulders like waterfalls. She would run her hands over Noe and look at him with her doe eyes. She was a cute on overall. Couldn't blame Noe for taking interest if it was there.

He seemed to not the mind the attention he received from the lady...nor the frivolous compliments....nor the blatantly flirty way she seems to be touching him with every caress of his hands into hers and the way she wraps her arms around his neck.

Oz's eye twitched. Oz could have stuffed down all this rage and envy that suddenly sprouted from the ether, but jealousy was truly Oz's vice. One he wasn't planning to fix any time soon. He wanted to sit there and be happy for his dearest Noe. Stay to the sidelines and be happy for his good fortune for love is one of the greatest things you can find.

However, there was another urge. One just as strong.

"I want her to die," cried Oz's thoughts. "I want her gone. She can't take Noe away from me. She can't. I know him and I aren't together in a romantic sense, but...I don't want her taking away my chance either. She has to go"

"Now now Oz," said another voice in Oz's head, "You know that's wrong. You can't go around getting rid of anyone you see as a competition or obstacle towards someone you care about."

Oz was prone to scolding himself at times like these. He always held himself to high moral standards. Sometimes too high. To the point of self-loathing. Impressive if you ask the writer. Self awareness? Bitch please for shame. This isn't a call out post for myself. What is it you may ask? Hey, we're getting off topic you little trickster. You're supposed to be a reader. Not breaking the fourth wall.

"Yes yes I know I can't do that. I'm not going to. That still doesn't save me from any form of feral urge to wring her neck and ship her body down the river and hope and have her loved ones pray she can be identified by her dental records. Fuck does she even love him. What if she's out to hurt him or worse just wants him for his body? Look at him! He's gorgeous. Who can blame her? What if she doesn't love him like I do," said Oz's internal thoughts.

"Oz you're being dumb. She might love him unconditionally too and he deserves that for himself," Oz argued internally with himself back.

"I know I know, but I'm just saying what if. I just don't like the idea of him getting hurt nor the idea of her taking him away from me. I'm entitled to that feeling aren't I," Oz continued to debate with his voice of reason.

"Fair, but lets just wait and see. He's a big boy and can handle himself," Oz's voice of reason stated.

"Yeah a big boy in more ways than one I bet," said the third internal Oz voice of being horny and all around slutty that constantly lives there.

"This is getting us nowhere," Oz himself decided to just cut the internal argument off before it turns into a blood match to the death. This was disturbing his routine of stalking Noe for ...research purposes.

Oz looked over to now see them sitting down at the nearby cafe. They were seated across from each other. Oz noted Noe might be enjoying his usual coffee or tea. He liked it extra sweet either way. The man has one hell of a sweet tooth.

"Yeah I bet that brown haired hussie doesn't know that, but I do," Oz thought to himself smugly.

Oz looked back at Noe's companion to see her touching his arm and doing the egregious crime of looking into his magnificent purple eyes. Wait....was she now touching his face?

"You lucky bitch," Oz thought to himself this time with anger brows drawn on the words for dramatic emphasis.

Oz ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. "Damn it! How long is this date going to last? I hope it stops before I puke up a lung," Oz thought to himself this time internally rolling in pain.

Hours passed and Oz with surprising tenacity had stayed there all day following Noe around with the clever disguise of wearing a hat and ya know some shabby clothes. Truly no way he could be recognized. Yep, he's got it all figured out.

Oz decided to follow them home from a fair distance. Oz looked up to see the sunset. It was starting to get dark and Oz hated the dark, but he hated certain people who might harm those he loves even more. A little nyctophobia isn't gonna hurt.

Oz followed quietly until he noticed they stopped in front of a flat. It was her flat. Noe escorted her to the door like the gentleman he is and waved her good night. Oz had found a nice dark alleyway to hide in so he wouldn't be spotted.

Noe headed towards Oz's direction which caused Oz to hide deeper into the darkness. Oz bit his lip from the anxiety of being found and having some explaining to do. Like who was he kidding? This disguise was paper thin!

Noe looked like he was passing by Oz, then stopped. Oz froze. Oh god had he spotted him?

Before Oz could register what happened next, Noe had gone in a flash. Oz knew he was fast, but he couldn't see where he went.

It was then a grunt and the sound of what seemed to be something getting bashed against the wall behind Oz. Oz slowly turned to find Noe whose hand was pressing something against the wall.

It was then he grabbed whatever he was holding and slammed it again. Oz stared into the darkness to see his eyes glowing red to match the blood on his gloves.

After another slam, the clear sound of bone cracking from the impact could be heard. Noe dropped, what Oz could assume, the now lifeless body of the person he just killed.

Noe turned to see Oz and Oz froze. "Ok ok maybe he doesn't know it's you," Oz thought to himself. "Oh I know."

"Aye top of the morning to you," Oz did in his best Irish accent that he could muster.

Noe leaned down and inspected Oz. Oz could only look at Noe confused as Noe lifted Oz's arms and looked over Oz's face and the rest of his person.

Noe then gave a sigh of relief. "Good, I was afraid he had hurt you Oz," Noe said putting a hand on Oz's shoulder.

"Wait, you knew it was me," Oz said face turning hot.

"I mean, I'd recognize you from anywhere. You're not hard to miss," Noe pointed out.

"Oh uuu so what happened exactly," Oz asked now curious about the now lifeless elephant in the room.

Oz went to look at the supposed body only for Noe to yank him back and shook his head no.

"You're squeamish," Noe said taking his bloody glove off, putting his now bare hand on Oz's face,"I wouldn't look."

Oz shuddered taking Noe's advice.

"The man had been following you. I know of him. That vampire right there would have killed you where you stood if I hadn't done something," Noe said honestly.

Oz batted his lashes in shock taken aback. "I...almost died," Oz asked.

Noe nodded. "Fortunately, he doesn't kill in broad daylight, so I had to wait til night. I had just noticed him following you today. I don't know how long he's been doing it for, but if I had noticed earlier, he would have been dead on the first day," Noe nearly growled out. "I'd rather not have killed him in broad daylight either,ut if I had to, I would have," Noe wanted to point out. "If he had attacked you, I absolutely would have."(edited)

Oz turned pale. "W-wait, when did you notice I was...," Oz said not knowing how to word his next question.

"Following me," Noe asked for him, "Since I left the house. You're not exactly subtle."

Oz blushed. "Oh uh sorry I was just curious as to what your daily routine was like and then I noticed you had a female companion, so I was trying to see if you were safe," Oz said nervously.

"Her? She was lonely and needed company, so I obliged. She's a bit friendly, but so am I," Noe pointed out.

"So are you...interested in her? Dating her even," Oz asked getting to the point.

Noe shook his head. "Not in the slightest," Noe said heading towards the body making effort to cover it up. "I'll dispose of the body in a minute. Let's take the back ways so I'm not caught soaked in blood. I need to get you home," Noe said quickly leading him back.

"Wait what if someone finds it," Oz asked fearfully.

"This will be quick," Noe said picking up Oz and speeding off.

Oz could often forget how fast this unstoppable force of a man was.

A few minutes later, Oz was back on his doorstep. Oz rubbed the back of his neck looking towards Noe wondering what Noe was going to do now.

"Now, go inside and don't come check on me. I don't want to have to hide more bodies this evening should more make the fatal mistake of coming after you," Noe said waiting til Oz got to his door.

"Ok ok," Oz said opening his door.

Oz waved Noe off as he sped away to do the dirty work.

Later that night, Oz flopped over into the bed still registering the fact he just saw Noe Archiviste straight up body a man. The sweet, gentle lamb of a man just increased the body count this evening. The man was now a statistic in vampire based deaths. Truly mystifying.

Oz wanted to stay up and see if Noe was going to be ok. However, sleep took Oz before Oz could make any quick decisions. It had been a long day.

As Oz slept, Noe crept in with any blood soaked clothes supposedly disposed of. Noe bent down and ran his fingers through Oz's hair.

Noe's fingers drifted to Oz's pulse on his neck. Long has Noe fantasized about marking Oz's neck. The thought made him shiver, but he couldn't. He couldn't bare to do it with him possibly not consent as marking someone like that is a big deal.

Noe pressed a little more of the pulse of Oz's neck. The beat made Noe's heart race and what Noe could swear was drool. To be so intimate with Oz to the point he trusts Noe to drink his blood. It was enough to make him shiver.

Noe shook himself from these thoughts. He couldn't give in. Not without Oz's permission.

Noe got up quietly and shut Oz's door bedroom door behind him as he left. He couldn't bare to kiss Oz's face good night as he was afraid it would trigger something in him.

Noe fled out the door into the dead of night towards his place. He wouldn't let any harm come to Oz. Even if that danger was himself.

#self indulgent fics

[augmented-beauty]

That didn’t stop you before

Did I just miracolously got a piece for Fictober done? Did my hiatus finally end? Let’s hope so ‘cause I’m sick of it. 

Summary: AU where things go a bit differently and Adam and Alex end up being together back in Detroit already. Happens before the events of Human Revolution, but Adam is already working for Sarif. Alex comes back home after her usual shift at DPD in a bad mood, and Adam is right here to help.

Prompt numer 4

Fandom: Deus Ex 

Relationships: Adam Jensen/OC (Alexandra Montgomery)

Rating: normal/general

Warning: none, just some light swearing

Word count: 1436

Adam and Alexandra being cute as hell and domestic fluff under the cut

You can also find this on AO3. 

I didn't think people could surprise me anymore in their ignorance, but I was clearly wrong. I'm so grateful my shift is over for today because I can't bear with some colleagues' bullshit anymore. I get ready to head back home as fast as I can, storming out of the locker room and heading towards the parking lot where I left my motorbike this morning. I put my belongings in the trunk and then the helmet on my head, get on the saddle and start the engine. Luckily, it's not a long ride, I only need to go and buy some fresh ingredients for dinner before heading back to the flat I share with Adam. I do my groceries shopping as fast as I can, and something like half an hour later after leaving the locker room, I'm finally home.

"I'm back, cariño!" I call out for Adam, even though he probably heard me already.

"Hi, sweetheart!" he greets back from the bedroom.

As always, I barely have time to close the door before Kubrik rushes towards me to say hello, wagging his tail at the speed of light. This good boy always manages to make me smile, at least a little bit, no matter how pissed I am. Tonight is no exception, but I'm pretty sure my bad mood is still evident. I make a left to leave the shopping bag on the kitchen counter before venturing further into the flat. The classy, glass table Adam picked for the entrance always comes to my aid, and I leave my purse and helmet there. I properly greet Kubrik while climbing down the stairs, and I can already feel a bit of tension melting away from my body. Hearing Adam's footsteps as he comes out of the bedroom and walks towards me only makes it better. I look at him and meet him halfway, snaking my arms around his neck as he bends down a bit to give me our usual 'welcome back home' kiss, while his hands go to my waist. It might be a habit, but we cherish it deeply, and never get tired of it.

"Been home long?" I ask him, still not letting go, face still quite close to his.

"Some minutes. Just had the time for a shower and to get cosier."

I hum in approval, taking in his features. "Love that sweater on you." I reach for another kiss, savouring it in its briefness.

"How was work?"

My only direct answer is a groan "You first."

"Not bad, pretty tranquil, actually."

"Glad to hear that at least your day was better. Some people can only seem to be so fucking annoying, ugh."

"How about I get everything you need to cook today ready for the use while you get cosier too?"

Sounds wonderful" I give him a peck on those perfect lips of his before letting him go "Thanks, babe."  

Heading into the bedroom, I change into a pair of leggings and one of Adam's baseball hoodies and then go take my make up off. Those small gestures are already helping a lot, and borrowing his hoodie once again was definitely a good idea. It smells like him, so, like home, somehow. Heading back to the living room and making my way to the kitchen, I notice how he also put on some lofi music, knowing damn well how much I like when I need to relax. Seeing me in his hoodie makes him give me a little smile and kiss my temple most sweetly.

"Want me to help you with that?"

"No, don't worry. I don't mind the cooking, and you've done enough already. Thank you for asking, though."

"You're welcome, beautiful." I give him a kiss on the cheek before getting started with the chopping of the veggies. While I do so, Adam wraps his arms around my waist and rests his chin on my shoulder gently. "Ready for your vent if you feel like it."

I sigh in frustration, ready to spill everything in hope to finally feel better for good, at least for now. "It's just...I might not be heavily augmented, but I still get so pissed when I hear bullshit about us. I just wanted to have a small break at the cafeteria in peace, you know, the time for a coffee. I get there to do that, and I can only hear some other cops I don't know that good saying nonsense. I tried saying something, but I got too pissed and just left with my cup in hand. I don't even know what had them starting, maybe there's an augmented rookie or something. The only thing I know is that they were saying how our life is much easier as our implants give us advantages in the workplace and shit like that. I couldn't help but feel called out, you know. How can they be so blind and don't realise that most of the time we don't even ask for our augs? It's not like we choose to be born with a genetical disease or to lose a limb or an organ! The post-surgical period is painful most of the times, and the eventual rehab is everything but easy. Don't even get me started on the life-long need for nu-poz. Sure, I'm lucky, I don't need heavy prescriptions, but many others are not that blessed, and the side effects for higher doses are terrible."

"Not to mention all the slur directed at you and the exploitation that occurs at times. And forced augmentation."

"Yeah, but go tell them that! Do they really think it's funny and easy to be augmented? We get discriminated, sometimes treated like we weren't human at all, and for what? For a fucking prosthesis? Sure, they're more sophisticated than in the past, but have been existing for decades now!" I fall silent for a brief moment, putting words and ideas together. "It's not the eye augmentation that makes me good at shooting, it's my skill, and all the training I went through! Just because someone has an augmented limb or whatever doesn't mean that they're automatically good at their job, it's more complex than that!"

"Everyone can be good at what they do, doesn't matter if they're augmented or not. Sure, for example, augmented people might be able to do manual labour more swiftly than someone who's not, but it's not like they don't need extra tools or don't make mistakes. Augs are not the problem, greed and ignorance are and augmented people are not to blame for this. In the end, we're all victims somehow."

"Exactly! And I've tried to tell them in fewer words, but anti-augs are so fucking stubborn."

"That didn't stop you before." I can hear the proud smile on his face by how he sounds, but I'm still a bit puzzled. "People might be stubborn, but you always find a way to successfully be heard. Sometimes you manage to educate people, and if they're too ignorant to learn something, at least you roast them as they deserve. So yeah, maybe you didn't shut them up today, but I'm sure next time they'll be talking shit, they might end up learning something. And if they're hopeless, they'll get what they deserve."

I stop in my tracks, putting the knife down and turning my head a little so that I can look at him. My fingers intertwine with his, and his thumb gently caresses my skin as I get lost in his eyes, noses lightly touching. "The world would be a better place if there were more people like you."

"Could say the same about you."

I can only smile at his sweetness and sincere admiration, feeling way better. I lean closer to him a bit for yet another sweet kiss of his, so full of love and care. "Gracias, mi amor. Me haces tan feliz."

Adam doesn't let go of me as I keep on cooking, and the only thing that changes is the subject. We keep on talking while I cook, and he makes me laugh, still with his chin gently resting on my shoulder, only moving to occasionally plant a delicate kiss on my skin. Even after dining, that's how the night rolls. It's all about gentle touches, heartfelt laughs and the mutual enjoyment of each other's presence, with Kubrik laying down near us in the living room. Doesn't matter how harsh the world is towards me sometimes, once I open the door to our home, that's all my life it's about. If someone asked me to picture Heaven, that's what I'd describe them.

#fictober20 #fictober 2020 #deus ex #deus ex human revolution #deus ex oc #adam jensen #alexandra montgomery #alexandra maribel montgomery #adam jensen x alexandra montgomery #adam x alex #my writing

[jeonchristineimnida]

Jimin - I’m dating him

genre: oneshot, fluff, crack, sfw

pairing: jimin x reader

rating: pg13

warnings: attempt of hitting, mentions of death of both parents

word count: 3007

Summary: You were preparing a birthday surprise for your brother (Yoongi) with the boys. The other members have been teasing you with Jimin seeing how close you are but Yoongi was never happy with the jokes. What happens when Yoongi finds out it was never just a joke?

Masterlist

Preparing for Yoongi’s birthday has never been so stressful. You thought having more than one person preparing would help you lessen the stress but it had an opposite effect.

“Namjoon, not that!”

“Hoseok, that’s too much flour!”

“Jungkook and Taehyung I swear if you knock one more--” before you could finish your warning, they’ve knocked over the bag of flour that was supposed to be used for Yoongi’s cake. They looked at each other before looking everywhere but your eyes. “KIM. TAE. HYUNG. JEON. JUNG. KOOK.” 

Your blood pressure was steadily rising when you felt two hands gently rubbing both of your arms. “Deep breaths” Jimin’s voice was soft and sweet. He wants to calm you but the scene was too funny as the 2 youngest looked panicked at the mess they made that he couldn’t help but choke in a few laugh.

“Quick, scoop them back.” Taehyung suddenly got on his knees to scoop the flour from the floor and Jungkook did the same, shooting shy smiles to you in the hopes to lower the fumes they imagine coming out from your nose and ears.

You heaved a deep sigh as you shook your head before going to Jin and checking with how the pasta was going. 

“You’ll get used to it.” Jin says as he stirs the sauce for the carbonara. “They really do wanna help but their playfulness gets the best of them. Let them do the decorations instead.” 

You did as told and asked them to prepare the living room of the dorm with balloons and the banners you made with Jungkook after they cleaned the mess they’ve made. 

“Ha, those kids don’t learn.” Namjoon comments with a chuckle when Jin shouts as he was about to cut the onions with the round side on the chopping board. “Namjoon, you go with Jungkook and Taehyung!” Jin suddenly snapped. 

Everyone was surprised when Jin suddenly shouted, only to have Namjoon join the two troublemakers as he rubbed his nape with a shy chuckle. 

“I got kicked out of the kitchen too.” He says and the two smiled from ear to ear.

“Welcome to the club” They said in unison, making you chuckle as you shook your head and went back to the kitchen.

“Am I doing this right?” Jimin asks as he mixes flour, baking powder and salt in one place. You smiled as you nodded, taking the butter and sugar and mixing it with the dry ingredients of Jimin. As you start mixing it, Jimin takes it from you as he playfully flexes his arm. You scrunch up your nose and laugh before reminding him to add the eggs one at the time after beating the ingredients properly. After checking if the oven was preheated, you start making the royal icing by whipping the whites of the egg with icing sugar.

“Are we telling him today?” Jimin suddenly asks, making you almost drop the bowl of mixture in your hands. “No biggy if you’re not yet ready.” He shrugs, cracking the second egg he’s adding to his mixture before shooting you his signature eye smile that never failed to make your heart melt.

“It’s not that I don’t want to tell him, but I don’t want to cause any rifts between the two of you if things don’t go the way we planned.” You answer, continuing to whisk as you thought of multiple scenarios on how your protective brother would react. 

Ever since you lost both your parents, he’s always been over protective of you. You thought you just weren’t pretty enough back in high school which is why you lacked love life but you recently found out it was Yoongi preventing any guy from actually making a move on you. You love your brother to bits but there are just moments when you can’t be honest with him, even if you wanted to. You didn’t want him pushing Jimin away from you, especially not causing any awkwardness to the group if things go downhill between the two of them if he finds out about you guys dating. 

You’ve already hid it from him for 6 months now, and none of the boys know, except for Jungkook who walked in on you making out with Jimin when he came in late from his self practices. He hasn’t told anyone but never fails to make it a blackmail when he needs a favor. 

You looked back up, surprised that Jimin suddenly became quiet. His face was emotionless as he handed the mixture to you before going to Hoseok who was preparing the chicken lollipops and deep frying them. 

You bit your lip, feeling a pang of guilt up your chest. You’ve added vanilla extracts and milk to the mixture, giving it one final mix before putting it in the cake pan and placing it in the oven to cook. You gather up the courage to approach your boyfriend silently.

“Jimin?” You gently tugged on the end of his shirt, your eyes already apologetic.

“It’s okay, Jimin ah. I can fry these. Go talk to your girl.” Hoseok teases as he pokes Jimin’s side but Jimin barely smiled before walking over to the corner of the kitchen where the oven is.

“Are you mad?” You quietly asked, not being able to look at his eyes.

“Not really.” He answers, turning his back from you as he checks the cake cooking in the oven. “Is there something else you want to tell me?” 

“It’s not like I plan to hide it forever from oppa, but I just didn’t want to jeopardize your friendship in case--”

“In case we break up, is that it?” He finished the sentence differently than what you were supposed to answer. You were supposed to say in case he flips out.

“What? No--”

“I just got a text from Yoongi. He’s coming over. Someone distract him!” Jin says panicked as he looked at his phone. “The cake is barely done, the pasta is still uncooked, we need more time.”

“I’ll go.” Jimin says, picking up his coat when you ran after him, taking his hand.

“Please hear me out first,” you desperately want to explain, not wanting him to doubt your love for him for more than a second.

“Let’s talk later.” He pulled his hand away from yours and you felt your heart break. You willed the tears not to fall and he noticed it. “Let’s not waste all the effort you put into this event. I’ll go distract him for now. We’ll talk later.” He says, showing a thin lipped smile pursed to one side. He gently pats your head in attempt to reassure you before heading out of the dorm. 

“Heyy Y/N, We’re out of helium and there are still a few more balloons--” Jungkook approached you by the door only to stop when he saw your face. “What happened?” 

You wipe the tears that pooled in your eyes, coughing the knot from your throat before giving him a small smile. “We can just have the left over balloons scattered on the floor or you can throw it to oppa when he enters the dorm.”

“Did you guys fight?” Jungkook guessed and the way you froze for a second gave it away. “If he said something, I’m sure he’s already thinking of ways on how to apologize to you. Don’t worry, Jimin hyung loves you.”

Another stabbing sensation radiated from your chest. “I fucked up, Jungkook ah.” You started sobbing and the boys were all surprised. Never had they seen you cry, most especially break down in front of them.

“Hey, what’s wrong? Don’t cry. We still have time. Your event’s not fucked yet, okay?” Namjoon was quick to run to your side as he rubs your back, trying to console you. 

“Yeah, look I can finish with the balloons in 5 minutes!!” Taehyung says, pumping air into them faster even if it made him look silly.

“The chicken’s done!” Hoseok informed you, showing you the plated friend chicken along with his radiating smile. 

You smiled at all their efforts, but your heart was still in pain. You remember the hurt that was evident in Jimin’s face before he left, yet he was still the one who comforted you at the end.

“If you want,” Jungkook came close to whisper in your ear “I can beat him up when he comes back.” He playfully cracked his knuckles before pinching your nose. 

“If there’s anyone to beat up, it’s me.” You sighed, giving him a small smile before going back to the kitchen to finish the dressing of the cake. 

It was about half an hour when Jin received a text from Jimin saying that they were on their way back. You hurried to cover the cake with icing and decorate it while the others prepared the table with food. Jin was constantly swatting hands of those who try to sneak a bite before the actual party when someone came through the door. Our hearts stopped as we weren’t finished preparing when Jimin popped into the corner of the kitchen to ask what else needs help.

“Where’s oppa?” You asked, watching him take off his coat and walking back to us. 

“Manager called him before we got into the elevator. Told him I’d go ahead cause I needed to use the toilet.” He explains, looking the food in front of him. His lips shaped like an O with amusement as the feast in front of him.

Jin instructed the younger ones to grab a balloon while Hoseok takes the party poppers and handed one to Jin. They positioned themselves by the door. You completed the cake and waited with them. It wasn’t long til the door opened and you all shouted with the confetti popping.

Yoongi covered his mouth, faking surprise and the guys just threw the balloons and party popper at him.

“You’re no fun, hyung.” Hoseok said, shaking his head.

“Yeah, you got no jams hyung. It’s not Jimin anymore.” Namjoon agreed, his hands in his waist.

“Can’t blame me! Jimin gave it away when he keeps fiddling with his phone as he drags me to places neither of us likes.” Yoongi laughs, walking towards you with a smile. “If you want to surprise me, you gotta do better than that.” He smirks, ruffling your hair before he closed his eyes to make a wish. As he blows the candle, you smiled and gathered up courage to speak.

“I’m dating Jimin, oppa. Surprise!” You say abruptly, remembering how hurt Jimin was before he left. You didn’t want him to doubt your feelings, not anymore than you already made him feel.

“If you’re just saying that cause I told you to do better, you didn’t have to go that far.” He was denying it but the rest knew you were being serious.

“We’ve been dating for 6 months now. It’ll be 7 months next week.”

“You dare hide these kind of things from me?” Yoongi was mad. His hands was raised and you closed my eyes to prepare for an impact which never came. As you opened your eyes, Jimin stood in front of you, prepared to receive the blow but Jungkook held Yoongi’s arm.

“Do you know what you’ve put yourself into?! What if you get stalked by paparazzi and your face gets exposed? What if you get followed or abused by sasaengs while we’re away?! I told you--”

“Yoongi, calm down.” Jin tried to mediate the situation when Jimin spoke up.

“I’ll protect her, hyung.” Jimin’s voice was firm. 

“How?! We’re always out, practicing, on tours and promotions, how can you take care of my sister?!” Yoongi grabbed Jimin’s shirt, crumpling it with his fist. 

“Oppa! Stop!” You quickly give the cake to Taeyung to hold Yoongi’s hand, prying them away from Jimin. “This is why I didn’t want to tell you. I knew you’d blow things out of proportion! I’m already 22! I’m an adult and I can choose whoever I want to date!”

Yoongi scoffs as he looks at you. “Blowing it out of proportion, you say?” he lets go of Jimin to look at you. You’ve never seen your brother this mad. “Fine. Do whatever you want. You won’t hear anything from me ever again.”

Yoongi storms off as he slams the door loudly, everyone flinching as it made impact. 

“I’ll go talk to him.” Jin says, grabbing his coat. “Hoseok ah, come with me.”  Hoseok took his coat as well before the followed your brother outside. 

You fell to your knees as you sob, covering your face. This wasn’t how you wanted to surprise your brother, and you regret the words you’ve said from the heat of the moment. You knew your brother did nothing but to take care of you, and having to raise you when both your parents were gone. You appreciated all that and you didn’t want him out of your life.

“Don’t worry, hyung will come around. He just needs time.” Namjoon says, patting your shoulder. Namjoon signed at Taehyung and Jungkook to leave you and Jimin alone to talk. Jungkook gave you a hug before leaving.

“I’m sorry--”

“No, don’t apologize.” You quickly say, looking up to Jimin. “Our relationship is not a mistake. My feelings for you are not a mistake. Don’t apologize.” You held Jimin’s hands in yours as you shake. 

Jimin pulled you into his arms, rocking you slowly as he strokes your hair gently. 

“We’ll apologize to hyung and make it up to him.” He says, resting his chin on the top of your head. 

“What if he doesn’t want to talk?” you asked softly, your heart breaking as you remember his words before he left

You won’t hear anything from me ever again

“We won’t stop until he talks to us.” Jimin shrugs before looking down to meet my gaze. “If there’s anything Yoongi hyung loves more than sleep, it’s you. He treasures you a lot and I’m sure he just meant well. We just gotta give him time.” He gives you a small smile, gently pinching your cheeks.

After staying all cuddled up for some time, you’ve calmed down and Jimin helped you up. You walked to the dining table where the food you prepared were laid out. You wiped your remaining tears as you start wrapping them with plastic covers. Jimin came from behind to give you a hug. He showers your temple with soft kisses, making you chuckle as you pat the arms around you, assuring him that you’re okay. He gives your cheeks one last peck before letting go as he helped you clean up.

“Namjoon ah!” You didn’t notice that Jin and Hoseok came back with Yoongi. Your brother was quiet as he took off his coat and walked to the living room, opening the TV without saying anything.

Jin and Hoseok gave you a thumbs up as they called the others. You looked up to Jimin and he gave you a smile as he squeezed your hand. He nodded towards your brother and encouraged you to talk to him while he removes the covers from the food. 

You took a deep breath and walked over to your brother, head bowed down as you fiddle with your finger. It has always been like this after you get scolded by him and you’d want to apologize.

“Oppa” I said softly, biting your lower lip as you wait for him to response, but he didn’t. You called out again once more but he continued to flip the channel, evidently not watching but doesn’t want to pay attention to you as well. You took a deep breath and knelt in front of him, matching his eye level as you once again called to him. This time, you had his attention as his eyes looked at you, but his emotionless response hurt you. He raised an eyebrow, wordlessly telling you to continue what you were about to say when you sat on your legs and started apologizing.

“I’m sorry for what I said earlier. I understand you were just worried for my sake, but I didn’t want to jeopardize your friendship with Jimin because of my feelings. I love you oppa, and it did hurt hiding it from you but I’m sorry, I also love Jimin.” you took a deep breath, not realizing you weren’t breathing as you talked. Tears continue to fall but you took your brother’s hand in yours before looking up to his eyes. “Please don’t be mad, oppa. I don’t want to lose either one of you.”  

“Yah. Park Jimin.” He suddenly calls out, making Jimin rush to your side, standing straight as if he was a soldier talking to his commander. “Are you serious about my sister?” Yoongi now shifts his gaze from you to your boyfriend.

“I am.” Jimin’s answer was straight and firm. Yoongi tried to hide the smile wanting to form on his lips by clearing his throat. He stood up, heading to the dining table as he looked at the food prepared for him.

“Yah, dongsaengi, why did you make the cake chocolate? I thought I said I wanted mocha this year.” You lit up as your brother used the endearment he uses when he plays around. You stood up and ran to him, hugging him from behind. You weren’t able to see the smile on Yoongi’s face as he pats your arms wrapped around him.

“Alriiiight! Yoongi hyung is smiling! Time to eat!!” Taehyung cheers, diving into the food. Jungkook gave me a smile as the rest started to dig in, merrily chatting as they tease Jimin for not saying anything to them as well. You smile at what’s in front of you, everyone having fun and goofing around. 

Your eyes traveled to Jimin’s, his hearty laugh makes your heart swell. Your brother playfully hits him for not saying anything but was dead serious when he warned him about putting you in danger. Jimin looked scared, but as he found you looking at him, he gave you a genuine eye smile, subtly winking which made you chuckle.

Masterlist

#bangtanhq #btswritersnet #jimin x reader #jimin imagine #jimin one shot #jimin oneshot #park jimin #bangtan oneshot #Bangtan imagines #bts oneshot #bts imagine

[ehstarwar]

flesh stays no farther reason (1/6)

Great, she thinks, another horny creep trying to entice young women to hop into bed with them for roughly 30 seconds.

She reads the post anyways.

-

Five times Ben looks for Rey and the one time she finds him.

-

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 5K

Read on AO3

Notes: 

my brain at 2a.m., assuring me that it'll be a one-shot: for the lady, perhaps a salad?

me, 5,000+ words in and only on their first meeting: [chuckling] perhaps not

-

1

what's to come is still unsure

She sees it on Reddit.

She doesn’t normally scroll through the website (certainly not subreddits like this) but she’s bored and can only take the same Buzzfeed quizzes so many times.

She’s not sure what led her to this page, how the rabbit hole of the internet made her search r/mseekingfcorusant but here she was, scrolling through the disjointed thoughts of horny guys in her area.

Posted by u/droidwrangerl88

need hot girl to bang. serious inquiries only.

Posted by u/mycumtastelikesarlacc

Any girls in the Coruscant area looking to hook up this evening? 38M seeking mid-20sF. Will split hotel bill.

Posted by u/hotbountyhunter3483

any females interested in shredded guy for an evening? willing to meet for drinks b4 hand, and will pay for ur drinks if ur hot. [phone] ;)

Rey finds it consistently astonishing how gross and vulgar men can be when hidden behind a screen. But she is scrolling on this page out of her own free will, so it does seem a little ‘pot-calling-the-kettle-black-ish.’ Just as her finger goes to press back to the home-screen, a tiny blue bubble appears at the top of the page, indicating that there has been a new post made. Great, she thinks, another horny creep trying to entice young women to hop into bed with them for roughly 30 seconds.

She reads the post anyways.

Posted by u/KyL0_R3N

31M seeking similarly aged F for the evening of 05/17. I have an important meeting on the 18th and sex the night before proves to a good luck charm for me. Nothing too crazy or obscene, fairly vanilla to start off with, but willing to go further based on her desires.

Something in Rey clenches.

It’s by far the most eloquently phrased way of asking for sex that she’s seen thus far. He seems straightforward, which is refreshing, but she knows that the best of psychopaths are good at hiding their true intention.

She clicks to his profile.

He seems interested in pretty common threads. Cooking tips, best laundromats in Coruscant, Galaxy Battles discourse; all innocuous and nothing to indicate he would chop up whoever responds to his post. Maybe that’s why she sends him a message.

From u/R3yoflight

why not just download tinder?

everyone on tinder is looking for sex too.

She bites her lip as she presses send. It’s not the best conversation starter, she’s aware, but their semi-introduction was from him posting about wanting to have sex to preform well in a meeting. Formalities can be forgone, in this particular situation. It’s not like she’s trying to impress him either; she didn’t message him to accept is offer, just merely because she’s curious.

There’s a pang of nervousness when she hears the notification sound out that he’s responded.

From u/KyL0_R3N

There’s too much preamble on dating apps.

Also, I’m looking to have sex, not to date.

It seemed more advantageous

to be straightforward.

From u/R3yoflight

hmmmm

i guess that makes sense

(also advantageous is worth 17 points in

scrabble, so kudos)

have you gotten many interested respondents?

From u/KyL0_R3N

You’re the first.

From u/R3yoflight

who says i’m interested???

From u/KyL0_R3N

Well, you are the one who messaged me?

Also, my post has been up for only a few minutes,

so you’re the first respondent in any capacity.

From u/R3yoflight

oooohhh i feel special ☺️✨

From u/KyL0_R3N

You’ve yet to tell me if you’re interested.

Is she?

Is she really considering letting Mr. KyL0_R3N fuck her after meeting him through a publicly placed internet post and knowing next to nothing about him?

From u/R3yoflight

maybe??

idk v much abt u yet

how do i know ur not a serial killer

or that u actually are who u say u are

which u haven’t yet

said who u are, that is

From u/KyL0_R3N

I’m  31M. I work in Coruscant at a tech company.

I’m 6’3, 190lbs. I’m not a killer in any capacity.

You haven’t told me anything about yourself,

which hardly seems fair.

From u/R3yoflight

24F, 5’6, i’m not telling u my weight

i work at an auto shop downtown so i can

kick ur ass if ur lying abt not being a killer

From u/KyL0_R3N  

In order to kick my ass, we’d have to meet.

So, are you interested or not?

From u/R3yoflight

i shouldn’t be

From u/KyL0_R3N

I have the distinct feeling that you are.

Am I right?

From u/R3yoflight

...

yeah

-

He tells her his name is Kylo Ren, which she thinks sounds stupid and made up, but doesn’t press him. They hammer out some more details, agreeing to meet at the bar of a swanky hotel downtown first, and if all goes well, he’ll have a room reserved for them.

When she tells him that she can’t afford to pay any of the room, he dismisses her flippantly with a quick ‘I’ll take care of it’ that makes her chest feel tight.

They don’t talk much after that, only a message from her a few days before hand, making sure the plan was still on, and an affirmative from his side. But a few hours before they’re supposed to meet up, Rey gets a notification from him. It distracts her from the task at hand (precision shaving of her legs and… other parts), causing a knick on the back of her calf.

From u/KyL0_R3N

While I don’t think that we’ll be doing

anything that would require

a safe word, I’d like to have one in case.

From u/R3yoflight

i’ve never had a safe word.

what’s a good one?

From u/KyL0_R3N

It doesn’t have to be anything special.

We can stick to a traditional scale.

Green means you’re good.

Yellow means slow down.

Red means to stop entirely.

Does that work?

From u/R3yoflight

yeah thats good

why don’t you think that we won’t be doing

anything to justify a safe word?

you planning to go easy on me 😈

From u/KyL0_R3N

That depends, sweetheart.

How far are you willing to go?

Rey thinks for a moment. She should have some hard lines set, especially since he’s a total stranger. In fact, she shouldn’t be fucking a stranger at all. But she was in this far, so she may as well go all in.

From u/R3yoflight

i’m not super into choking but a lil breath play

is okay

no extreme bondage or degradation

maybe at some point but just… not now

anything in my ass will require a lot of work

before hand bc not much has been in there.

any hard no’s 4 u?

i’m on birth control so u can come inside me

if you want

From u/KyL0_R3N

I think we should stick to no

bondage/degradation/breath play for now

I’m not super into those anyways.

I’ll keep that in mind about your ass.

Maybe nothing in my ass. For now.

That about covers my no’s.

What are some of you hard yes’s?

From u/R3yoflight

i like being taken control of, dominated, i guess

kissing is big for me but i get it if u don’t like it

also major daddy kink but that can be

controlled if its not ur thing

what do u like

From u/KyL0_R3N

Very much yes to that Daddy kink and kissing.

I lean towards dom anyway, so that should work out.

I like hickeys. Giving and receiving.

I also have pretty good stamina, just a warning.

From u/R3yoflight

i like a man with good stamina ;)

u gonna wear me out tonight? 😈

From u/KyL0_R3N

Yes. Yes I am.

-

She gets there late. Unlike every other time she runs late for something, this time is purposeful. If he gets angry with her, she’ll know to leave. And she’s counting on that. Him giving her a reason to leave. She needs it so she doesn’t do something stupider than what she’s already doing now.

But when she arrives and see’s the absolute mammoth of a man, with long-is black hair and moles and big ears, Rey just knows she’s in for it.

He stands when he sees her. Realistically she knew that 6’3 was tall, but it’s still a bit shocking to her. One of his gargantuan hands is holding a beer, the other resting on the back of the chair. She spends a second too long admiring his form, earning a knowing-but-slight smirk from him.

“You’re Kylo.” It’s an unnecessary statement, because who else could he be, but one that is said all the same.

“And you’re Rey.”

His fucking voice. It’s too beautiful to be addressing her, she’s sure of it.

“Work ran over, that’s why I’m late.” She wasn’t going to give him an excuse, but the words fall out of her mouth.

“I’m familiar with that myself. It’s no trouble, really.” He holds the chair out for her, and she gracefully takes a seat. A server comes around and takes her drink order of a club soda before scurrying off.

“Nothing to relax the nerves?” He question, taking a sip of his drink.

“I prefer to have a clear head for��” She trails off. What does this qualify as? A hook-up? A booty-call? A job interview?

“Good girl.”

Her breath stops for a moment before she remembers its necessary to survive.

“You said you work for a tech company downtown; is it close?” She asks, hoping she sounds passive.

“Not far. I need to be close for tomorrow.” He never looks away from her; it makes her sweat.

The server comes back with her drink, and Rey takes a giant gulp, just for something to preoccupy her mouth.

“You said you work for an auto shop downtown. What do you do there?” He asks, eying her hands curiously. Rey worries that he’ll realize she wasn’t actually at work if her hands aren’t greasy, so she hides them under the table.

“I’m a mechanic,” She tells him, sitting up straighter.

“You’re…” He begins, but she cuts him off.

“A woman mechanic, yes. It’s not entirely uncommon.”

“I was going to say young.” She bites her lip. His voice doesn’t sound like its chastising her, but she feels bad all the same.

“Most men are uncomfortable with the fact that I know more about cars than them.” Rey doesn’t know why she continues to challenge him, but his reactions always surprise her.

It’s… nice.

“Do I seem like I’m uncomfortable by that?”

She regards him. “No, but you did proposition anyone with computer access, so I think your threshold for uncomfortable must be very high.”

He doesn’t laugh, per se, but the corners of his mouth lift and his cheeks become tight. She smiles at the sight.

“Seems that we’re both very bold. A female mechanic and an online propositioner. We make for quite a pair.”

“Hopefully that means the sex will be good.”

Kylo Ren does smile at that.

His hand is on the small of her back when they get in the elevator and Rey is actively trying to ignore the fluttering in her gut, which is why the words blurt out of her.

“My roommate knows where we are!” It’s a loud noise in an otherwise quiet area, but Kylo doesn’t seem startled by it. He just looks down at her. “I have to be back at the apartment, in person, by noon tomorrow or she’s calling the cops.” Rey is quieter now but her voice still shakes.

“My meeting is at 10, so you’ll have plenty of time to get back to your place. I can have my driver drop you off there, if you like,” He says.

“Thats… not why I’m telling you. But that you. I mean, my roommate will know if something bad happens to me. So it would be wise of you to not kill me.” Rey gulps.

Kylo’s hand comes to her face and brushes a piece of hair behind her ear.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Rey.” His voice is soft. “I’m not going to kill you, or hit you, or do anything you don’t want me to do.” She’s facing him now. “If you feel uncomfortable, I wouldn’t be mad. You can leave whenever you want.”

“But what do you want? You’ve asked me what I’ve wanted in every interaction we’ve had, but all I know is that you want to fuck somebody so that you’re not nervous or whatever tomorrow. Do you even want me? Or was I just the first person who responded to you post? It goes both ways, ya know. You need to tell me what you want, too.”

His hand brushes the side of her jaw, his eyes trail down her face, no doubt seeing the nervous expression she wears.

“I want you, Rey.”

-

His lips are on hers the moment the door is shut. His hand cradles the back of her head as he shoves his body against hers, pinning her to the wall. His other hand grips her hip and will definitely leave a bruise. She loves it.

But his warm, wet mouth on hers with his plush, pink lips makes any coherent thought leave her head. She moans into his mouth, hands trying desperately to pop open the buttons of his shirt. She makes a sound of frustration when the last stubborn button won’t come undone, and his hands are there in an instant, ripping the thing straight off. She slides her hands along his toned chest as his tongue invades her mouth. When her hands venture further south, they find the more than impressive bulge straining against his slacks.

“I should’ve… asked you earlier…” He says into her mouth as he sucks off the remaining shirt and suit jacket, “if you… like… dirty talk.” Rey keens against him, forcing his mouth to go to her neck as she breathes out a chant of ‘yes, yes, yes.’

Kylo makes a noise of approval before hoisting her into his arms. Rey’s legs instinctively wrap around his hips as he walks them towards the bed.

“Good, because it would be a shame not to be able to tell you that I can’t wait to taste your cunt.”  

Rey has died.

She has died and gone to whatever afterlife will have her.

She never wants to leave it.

“You… don’t… you don’t have to…” She manages to say between kisses. Kylo pulls back from her then, eyes dark, hair a mess, lip red and bitten.

“I want to. Will you let me?” Rey nods so fast she’s worried her neck will be sore. His hands ruck up her cotton dress, until he decides that the offending material will need to be off all together. She’s left in her black bralette and underwear and Kylo stares down at her.

“My tit’s aren’t that big. I’m sorry if you were looking forward to-”

“They’re perfect,” He cuts her off by kissing down her chest, mouthing her nipples through the dark fabric. The heat of his mouth combined with the coolness of the room make her nipples stand at attention, pebbling at the fabric.

Kylo depends further, and puts his entire face against her still-clothed pussy, inhaling and licking her through the fabric. Rey is a whiny mess against the sheets, hair in every direction, full body blush. She hopes he thinks she’s hot because, god, she’s never sen anyone like him.

Kylo takes of her panties and immodestly begins lapping at her cunt, no warning or hesitation, making Rey give something of a moan and a yelp. Her hand goes to his hair, feeling the luscious locks between her fingers. His hands go to her ass, lifting her up slightly so he gets a better angle.

“You’re… too good… at this…” She manages between breaths. Rey would bet anything he’s smirking against her.

Kylo uses his nose to rub at her clit before alternating between kitten licks and sucking on it. It takes no time at all for Rey to come. So quickly, in fact, that she would be embarrassed if she could move. Her whole body is on fire as he licks her through it, occasionally using a hand to brush at her nipples. The tears streaming out of her eyes and drool gathering at the corner of her mouth must make her look ghastly, but Kylo doesn’t seem to mind.

When he finally sits back, still between her legs, she can make out the bulge from earlier, now even more prominent.

He’s looking down at her, at the mess he’s made of her, and against every instinct, she lets him.

“I don’t normally come that fast,” she tells him. Her voice is quiet even now, and she knows it’ll be strained tomorrow. Good, something to remember him by.

“It won’t take me that long to come, either,” he admits, having the kindness to look sheepish as he says it.

“Then what are you waiting for?”

Kylo represses a smile.

He gets off the bed, shucking his pants, underwear, and socks off in one felt swoop, leaving him gorgeously bare before her. If she though the bulge was impressive, the real thing is even better. His cock is red and pointed upwards as he stands across from her. His hand goes to pump himself a few times, smearing the precome along his length. Rey can’t help but reach out, whole body going with her as she opens her mouth to bring Kylo towards her. His hand stops her, gently, and she looks up at him in confusion.

“I want to suck you off,” She tells him, brows still furrowed.

“Later,” he tells her.

Kylo pulls her back up the bed with him, so that he hovers over her as he kisses her again. She still taste herself on him, but can’t find the heart to care. Her hands go to wrap around him, feeling the thickness for herself. Huge is an understatement. But Rey’s always been ambitious.

She pumps him a little, feeling him nearly whimper in her mouth.

“You gonna let me fuck you, baby?” he murmurs.

“Yes… yes please…”

Rey feels his hand come over hers as Kylo slots himself between her legs and aligns his cock to her core. He slides in, slowly, stretching her the whole way. She pants against his skin, digs her nails into his shoulder.

“Tell me if it’s too much.” His voice sounds strained, like he’s holding back from her.

“It’s good, daddy… so good…” she pants.

He whines some curses against her skin as he finishes seating himself inside of her.

“… so good, sweetheart. Takin’ me so well… taking your daddy so well,” He mumbles, pressing kisses to any part of her skin. Rey can already feel the beginning of another orgasm itch inside of her, and for the first time in a while, she has no doubt that Kylo will get her there.

“Daddy… you can move… please,” She’s breathless as she asks him. He groans above her and rest his forehead against hers.

His hips being to move, still slow, but making her breath hitch ever shallow thrust.

“Tight… so tight for me…” He mumbles. Rey takes a minute to look at him, really look at him. He’s flushed, skin damp, but he’s still so very handsome. Moles dot his face and she can’t resist using a hand to trace them. His hair tickles her nose, so she pushes it back behind his ears, which are a bit too big for his head but she adores them.

Kylo lets Rey take him in, but gets her attention back to the moment with a quick snap of his hips.

“Can you come again?” He asks, and Rey nods. His mouth depends on her neck, sucking hickeys to every patch of skin it finds, as he pushes into her. She can feel the bump of his cock every time he bottoms out, a sensation she’s never felt before, and it makes her clench him every time. His hand skates down between them to get to her clit, and he quickly begins rubbing her there.

“Gonna let me fill you with my come? Gonna be a good girl and hold it all in? Can you do that for me baby? Huh?” His words send shivers down her spine, aiding in his pursuit to get her to come again. She mumbles incoherent words of approval, trying to tel him “yes, yes! I’ll be your good girl!” but speech fails her at the moment.

But Rey knows Kylo understands what she’s trying to say.

She feels his rhythm falter and his hand speeds against her clit. She tightens her legs around his hips, trying to wordlessly tell him she’s close too.

“Please, baby, please come for me…” His voice is desperate and strained and makes her shudder. Her hips find purchase against the base of his cock, in combination with the movement of his fingers, and she’s thrust into the abyss again.

Kylo holds her against him as she comes, whole body vibrating, and he follows after her. He grunts against a pillow as he comes, and Rey is distantly aware that he’s actually biting the poor thing. His come is hot within her, and she feels him pulse as he keeps slamming his hips to hers. The slapping of skin slows as she feels his body let go of the tension, and Rey is boneless beneath him.

He lays on her, still half-hard inside of her, as they come down from their mutual high. They are both breathing so heavily that speaking is out of the question, at least for a while. Kylo pulls out of her, and a mad rush of fluid starts to leak out of her. She clenches, remembering his words from earlier.

Part of her expects a coldness afterwards; after all, that’s what most sex has been for her. Once he’s come, he leaves. It’s the oldest story in the book. And for all Kylo’s talk of ‘stamina’, there’s still a part of her that expects it’s just a façade.

But he doest leave her, cold and debauched, to get redressed and make a hasty exit. Instead, he plants a kiss to the side of her jaw and rubs her torso sweetly before helping her sit up. She’s weak, and he knows it.

“We need to get you cleaned up,” He says when she slouch against him. She mumbles something unintelligible into his skin. Instead of getting rough with her, Kylo just soothes her. “Women are 38% more likely to get a UTI if they don’t pee after sex. That’s not a parting gift I’d like to give you,” he elaborates.

Rey sighs, but lets Kylo get her to the bathroom.

-

They sleep in spurts.

For a few hours after their first time, before Kylo wakes her with the incessant press of his hard cock into her abdomen. (He takes her even more slowly that time, sleepy and still blissed out. He comes before she does, but he uses his fingers to get her there, still.)

A few hours after that, Rey makes good on her promise to get her mouth on him, waking him with her mouth already working him. (His come tastes bitter and tangy, but she swallows it because it’s his.) She sits on his face afterwards, letting his tongue get her off again.

The next time she wakes, Kylo is kissing her chest, licking at her now oversensitive nipples. There’s a faint light peaking through the windows and Rey knows their time is coming to an end. She runs a hand through his hair to indicate she’s awake now, but he keeps on in his pursuit. Only when her chest spit-covered and shiny does Kylo seem satisfied with his work, and lifts his head to look at Rey.

“Good Morning,” She mumbles, voice strained as expected, and still groggy from sleep. He hums his response, and presses a sweet, lingering kiss to her lips.

Rey glances at the clock, noting its just past 7, when they both sit up in bed. Kylo goes to say something, but is cut off by the grumbling of Rey’s stomach. Her cheeks heat as his voice falls silent.

“Sorry… I haven’t eaten since yesterday morning,” she admits. Kylo’s brow furrows for a moment, but the dark expression passes fleetingly.

“Let’s rectify that first, shall we?”

-

The breakfast menu for room service is extensive, and Kylo orders one of everyone instead of actually looking it over. Rey can only half-heartedly try to tell him it was too much, when her eyes catch a glimpse of the fluffiest looking waffles she’s ever seen. Kylo had only kissed her head and ordered before walking into the shower.

It arrives in record time, a result, she’s sure, of the high-class hotel he got for them. The room, which she’d been too preoccupied to notice last night, is opulent. A bit gaudy for her taste (were gold curtains really necessary), but Rey was in no position to complain. She hesitated to put on actual clothes, instead opting for the plush robe that hung in the wardrobe.

Rey is half into the whole meal when Kylo emerges from the bathroom, towel hung low on his hips and hair still damp. Rey bites her lip so hard she draws blood. He sits across from her, picking up the two plates she hand’t touched.

“Greek Youghert and fruit? Don’t you want a waffle? I saved some whipped cream for you.” She extends the aforementioned whipped cream, earring her a slight smile from Kylo.

“You’re very kind, but no thank you. This is what I eat every morning,” he tells her. Rey scrunches her face. Kylo pours himself some black coffee too, and Rey finds the will to keep her mouth shut.

They eat in companionable silence, Rey scarfing down whatever her hands touch, and Kylo methodically eating his healthy-dude breakfast. Rey notes that neither of them are on their phones; it’s perhaps the first meal she’s had with someone in a while where that’s the case. Like everything else that’s made her heart flutter with him, she tries to ignore it.

Once the table is thoroughly pillaged, Kylo gets up to get dressed and says nothing when Rey hops on the bed and continues to watch him. He’s not embarrassed by nudity, clearly, and tosses the towel away for a solid 5 minutes before putting on underwear.

He’s fully dressed shortly and applies some product to his hair that has writing in french, yet Rey is still wearing only the robe and probably still has his come on her thighs. And other areas.

Part of her thinks he’ll just carry on with his routine as if she’s not there. He’ll pack his suit from the night before and leave the room without an second glance her way. Much to her relief, she’s wrong.

When he’s finally ready, Kylo turns toward her, leans down, and plants a soft kiss directly on her lips. It’s an infinitely more affectionate gesture than she had expected going into this, but a welcome one all the same. He stares fondly down at her when their lips part.

“The room is yours to use until 4 P.M., but I remember you have a noon curfew,” He tells her. Suddenly, Rey regrets telling Rose to call the national guard if she’s not physically in her presence before the clock strikes 12.

“I guess I’ll make do,” She teases.

They fall silent again, and for the second time that morning Kylo goes to say something, but falls short. The silence becomes too much for Rey to bear, so her cursed mouth opens of it on volition.

“I’m not sure how these are supposed to work… one night stands, I mean,” She admits. Something in Kylo’s face falls, but Rey can’t quite tell what.

“I don’t have much experience with these either,” he tells her. Rey shuffles onto her knees, so that they’re both eye-level, and extends her hand. Kylo looks at it with a hint of confusion mixed with amusement.

“Well, you’ve been a wonderful reddit-fuck. Thank you for posting,” she says, giving a mega-watt smile. He sakes her hand.

“And you’ve been a wonderful reddit-fuck-respondent. Thank you for critiquing my going about soliciting sex.” Rey opens her mouth in an exaggerated offense, but Kylo cuts her off with another sweet kiss.  

She melts into it, holding his hair with her hands, letting herself mold to his torso as his tongue swipes her lower lip. The kiss is wonderful and hot and sweet all at the same time and makes her head spin.

When it’s over and she’s caught her breath again, a pang of nervousness infiltrates her consciousness. It’s over, it whispers, you’ll never see him again if you don’t do anything. He’ll leave, just like everyone else, if you let him.

“Do you have any more meetings?” She practically shouts at him. Kylo looks confused for a moment, so she goes on. “I just mean… if you needed someone to help… prepare you for your meetings, there’s a chance I’d be available.” Her voice grows softer as she keeps talking, suddenly feeling like an idiot for suggesting that at all. Before she has a  chance to spiral, Kylo brings her back.

“I do… I mean, I will. That would be… very gracious of you, to offer you help.” She bites her lip to keep from smiling too hard.

“Okay, good.” She nods at him, relief washing over her as she realizes she might not be the only one who doesn’t want to let this go.

It’s a new feeling that probably shouldn’t be attached to a person whom was very clear about their desire for a no-strings hook up, but Rey has always had a preference for things that are challenging.

Kylo Ren seems as good a challenge as any.

-

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#reylo #kylo ren #ben solo #rey #star wars #sw #reylo fanfiction #daisy ridley #adam driver #smut #fluff #5+1 #fsnfr #my works #chapter 1

[kaitycole]

A Year After: Sawyer

Summary: What happens in the 365 days since Morgan left Sweetridge for her dream job in Boston.

Word Count: 2629

Pairing: Sawyer x Morgan (F) (Past tense) Sawyer x ???

Rating: PG-13, there’s smut but it’s pretty tamed

Tag List: @desiree—1986​ @kacie-0156​ @shakespeareanwannabe​

A/N: This is the second part which follows Sawyer once Morgan leaves.

P.S. This is prior to me reading Book Two as well as a modified ending to Book One.

“I….”

“Seriously? Did everything that’s happened the last few weeks mean so little to you?”

“No! Sawyer, I couldn’t say goodbye because the last few weeks have meant everything to me! All last night, I kept trying to find the right moment to tell you, but every time…I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.”

Sawyer shakes his head repeatedly, “I just don’t believe it. You could’ve said something when we snuck off, before we…we…”

He doesn’t finish his statement, he just turns away from her, hopping back up on his horse.

“Sawyer…”

“Hope that job gives you everything you want, Morgan.”

She watches as he taps the horse’s side, causing his horse to start walking back up to the ranch. Getting back in the car, she looks back at the Oakley’s, Cliff patting his son’s shoulder as he walks into the house.

I’m doing the right thing, right? This is what I’ve been working towards for years.

“Alright Spike, let’s go.” She looks over to at the cactus, but for some reason she gets the feeling that if it could, it would give her a disapproving look.

Fall

“What did you expect, Sawyer? She was just passin’ through and you barely knew each other.” Duke starts on his lecture as Sawyer aggressively shovels hay in the barn.

It has been three months since Morgan left, taking that fancy schmancy job in Boston, leaving the Montana gang behind her. But based off Sawyer’s behavior, you’d have thought that she left yesterday. Duke has never seen his brother this low over a girl before, sure he had a few interests in high school that ended, but this was different.

He props the shovel up against the wall before sitting on the floor. He runs his hands through his hair after sitting his hat on his knee.

“I guess I just thought she meant what she said.”

“I know it’s hard, but it does get easier, Sawyer.”

“Yeah, I’ve been hearing that a lot lately.” Standing up, he kicks the ground before walking out of the barn, not really feeling any better from his brother’s version of a pep talk.

Later that night, Sawyer let’s Juliette and Curly convince him to join their bonfire. Dallas and Jo are already there when they finally walk up.

“Hey y’all!” Juliette says as they all sit around the fire, seeing Sawyer looking at the spot that had been Morgan’s not so long ago.

“Are you excited for Smalltown, USA to come?” Jo says, trying to break the awkward silence.

“I think it will be a big thing for Sweetridge. Help put us more on the map,” Curly shrugs.

“What about you, Sawyer?”

“If it’s fixin’ to end like the last time a stranger came here, stayed and then just up and left, I think I’ll pass.” He pushes himself up and walks away.

“Morgan leaving really tore him up, didn’t it?” Jo asks as Juliette nods.

“I’ve never seen him this upset before, but you can’t blame him. Her leaving threw us all for a loop.”

“Should one of us go talk to him?” Curly asks, hating seeing a friend so upset.

“He’s not ready for help. But when he is, he’ll come askin’.”

*                      *

He finds himself driving with no real destination. Constantly flipping through the stations to try and find something to stop on. Every song so far has been one they listened to, reminded him of her or that she loved.

I've changed the presets to my truck,

                    So those old songs don't sneak up.

                                            But they still find me

                                                                   And remind me

                                                                                Yeah you come back that easy

He slams on his breaks, pulling his truck over to the side of the road before he slams his palms against the steering wheel. He assaults the steering wheel some more, before he screams, “Fuck!”

Sawyer takes a deep breath, pulling himself together even though the tears on his cheeks show that he’s actually falling apart.

“Come back Morgan, come back to me,” his voice is low, almost a whisper, “Please.” His voice cracks as a sob escapes.

Winter

The Oakley’s, Mendoza’s and friends are all gathered together, watching their episode of the reality TV show.

“We can clearly see who the main character of this episode is,” Juliette jokes, nudging Sawyer’s shoulder with her knee since he was sitting on the floor in front of her.

“I’m just flaunting what my Momma gave me,” he playfully shrugs.

“I really hope we don’t get an influx of people moving in. I’d hate for the smalltown charm to be taken over.” Asha says, “Tourists I’m fine with. Residents, not so much.”

“I can agree with that,” Cliff said.

“You think Morgan is watching this?” Curly says, slightly hopeful.

Almost everyone gives him a dirty look before hearing Sawyer sigh, “If she was ever the girl I thought I knew, I’d say she is. She has to miss y’all.”

Juliette rubs his shoulder, “She misses you too, Sawyer.”

He shrugs, standing up, “Yeah, I don’t know about all that. ‘Scuse me, I need some air.”

Juliette follows Sawyer outside, “She’d be a fool not to think about you.”

He shakes his head, “The only fool is me, thinking that what she and I had was anything more than some fling.”

She wraps her arms around him, pulling him into a hug. Their friendship was the perfect solace for Sawyer, Juliette didn’t demand anything back but for his support when she needed it and help when she found herself in trouble.

He winces, her brow knits as she gently slides his shirt up, revealing dark purple bruises, “Ohmygod! Sawyer what is that!”

“Looks like a bruise to me,” was not the proper response he learned when she swatted his arm, “I got roughed up training for the rodeo.”

“What!?! I didn’t know you were training.”

“I just needed something to do to get her out of my head.”

“By the looks of this, she’s still in your head.” Her fingertips gently rub over the bruises.

He leans down, pressing his forehead to the top of her head. He takes a deep breath, inhaling her scent. They’ve never walked so close to the edge before. They were friends, that’s all. Sure, they were each other’s better half, but that’s just what best friends right?

“Jules ,” he whispers as he pulls her chin up towards him. He presses his lip to her, trying to find comfort, find what he’s been missing since Morgan left, but he doesn’t.

“Sawyer,” she pushes him away slightly. Looking at his face, she sees pure guilt. She places a hand on his cheek, giving him a gentle smile.

“I’m sorry.” He kicks the dirt at his feet.

“I’m not mad, but that isn’t how you’re gonna get over this.”

“I know.” He shoves his hands in his pockets.

She loops her arm with his, “Let’s go drink, huh? Oh, and Sawyer?”

“Yeah?”

“You ain’t half bad at kissing.”

Spring

“And the winner is Dick Mullagen, with a score of 86!” The crowd is a mix of cheering and boos after the announcer give the name of the winner.

“That’s a bunch of horse manure if you ask me,” Curly says, “He had that one in the bag!”

“Hey, here he comes,” Jo says as Sawyer walks over to the group.

“Just need a little more practice, is all,” Cliff says, patting his son on the back of his shoulder, “I’m still proud of you, son.”

“Thanks dad.” Sawyer smiles, it’s the first sincere smile he’s worn since Morgan left.

“Hey Oakley,” Dick yells from behind him, “I’d say better next time, but we all know I’ll win.”

Sawyer rolls his eyes.

“Do you think his mother knew he was going to be a total dick or that he became a dick because that’s his name?” Dallas asks, causing the whole group to erupt in laughter.

*                      *

“You done training for the day, Oakley?”

He pulls on Dolly’s harness, stopping her before looking over at Juliette. She was carrying a pitcher of lemonade. He hops off his horse and joins her for a glass.

“Refreshing, Mendoza.” He winks at her.

The two have seemingly moved passed the kiss they shared, but each would be lying if they said they weren’t thinking about it. A few touches lingered, cheeks blush and late nights lasted longer.

They weren’t going to overstep the wall between friends and more than friends again because they couldn’t. Not because of the feud or that they were being stubborn. Sawyer knew Juliette, she was his best friend, and she deserved someone who would give her the world. Sawyer knew he couldn’t give her that, right now she’d just be a rebound, something she never deserved to be for anyone.

But he wouldn’t say no to some harmless flirting.

“How are you feeling nowadays? You haven’t mentioned her lately?” Juliette says, sitting next to him.

“Better. I think I just needed to find what made me happy again.” He sighs, “I still miss her though. It just doesn’t hurt as badly.”

“As long as it’s not destroying you, it’s completely normal.”

He sighs, leaning his head on her shoulder, “Is it wrong that if given the chance, I’d want to try again with her?”

“Nope. Not at all. As long as you don’t lose yourself.” She tilts her head, resting it on his, “I’ll be here for you, every step of the way.”

Summer

Sawyer wipes the sweat from his brow before placing his hat back on. Dolly trotted up to him, nudging him with her snout.

“You want a treat, girl?” Sawyer chuckles.

“Neiigghh!” The horse exclaims before chopping down on the carrot Sawyer holds out for her.

“We have another busy day today, Dolly.”

The horse’s demeanor changes, her ears duck down and she shakes her head.

“I know girl. But you’ll get extra carrots, how’s that?” Sawyer rubs the mare’s neck. She seems okay with this exchange and trots off before he can change the deal.

Shaking his head, he laughs before he hears a high pitch squeal and turns to see Brit. He puts on a smile, not his typical charming one, but a smile nevertheless.

“Sawyer!” She throws her arms around his neck, pulling him close to her.

“Hey Brit. You ready?”

“Of course!” She steps back and does a twirl, “Like my outfit?”

Sawyer looks down the slender blonde’s outfit, it was once again not an appropriate one, but she never listened to him. She has on a strappy short sundress with brand new cowboy boots. Clearly, they were bought when she first met Sawyer. Her long blonde hair was braided and tossed to the side.

“You look nice, Brit.” He bites the inside of his lip. Sawyer gathers up a horse for her and whistles for Dolly to join them.

After exerting little effort, she pokes out her lip and stomps her foot, “Sawyeerrr!” She whines, “I need help!”

He walks over to her, holding the top of the saddle and has his hand on her back, “Just step up and then swing your leg over.”

“Yay! I did it!” She squeals.

“You sure did,” he walks over to Dolly, who just stares at him. He lowers his voice, “oh hush.”

Once he is on Dolly, the two of them begin riding around the field.

*                      *

“I really enjoyed today, Sawyer,” Brit says before they stop and he hops off.

“I’m glad that you did. You’re getting a lot better.” He places his hand on her lower back to help her get down.

“I’m even better at riding in other ways,” she gives him a flirtatious smile as his face turns completely red.

“Now Miss Brit, that’s no way for a lady to talk.”

She tosses her head back, laughing, “If you’d let me, I’d show you I’m not lady.” She places her hand on his arm, letting it linger against his muscles.

“Same time tomorrow, Cowboy?”

“Same time tomorrow,” he tips his hat towards her before she walks away from him.

Reaching down, he grabs a carrot for each mare before he hears Curly yell, “Morgan, wait!”

He snaps his head in their direction, “Morgan?” He drops the carrot, much to Dolly’s dismay and runs after her.

“Morgan! Morgan, stop!” He shouts, pushing himself to run faster. “Wait!” He hits him palms on the hood of her car, almost daring her to drive off.

“Sawyer, move please.”

“Not until you talk to me.”

“There’s nothing to say,” her voice cracks, the tears falling.

“Get out of the car, please.”

“Just move, let me go.”

“Get out of the car, dammit!”

With a small huff, she gets out of the driver’s side before he walks over and stands in front of her.

“Don’t you have some blonde to get back to,” her voice is sharp.

He chuckles, “You mean Brit? Jealous?”

“As if. She looks as smart as that fence post.”

He chuckles again before explaining to her what Brit was doing at the ranch. That ever since Smalltown, USA aired the episode on Sweetridge, that tons of people came to the Oakley ranch for horseback riding lessons. How his brother sold him out since the women would pay extra for Sawyer to teach them.

She looked up at him completely embarrassed, her face burning red while her mouth once again went dry.

“I’m sure that’s not why you came back here though.” He has one hand pressed against the car by her head while the other hangs by his side “Why’d you come back, Morgan?”

Sawyer would be lying if he said he wasn’t glad she was back. That he had dreamed of this moment for a whole year now. But he was trying so hard to not let himself go there, he couldn’t go through that pain again.

“You.” Her voice in low, raw from the emotions flooding over her.

He leans into her, a huge smile on his face, “What was that?”

Looking up, she catches the look in his eye. It was the same look she’s had since leaving Boston the second time. She wraps her arms around his neck, pulling him into her because she presses her lips to his. He wraps his arms around her waist, pushing her into him, deepening the kiss.

“Sawyer,” she moans, feeling him kiss down her neck.

“Oh, get a room, would ya!” Curly and Juliette yell at the couple.

“That’s not a bad idea,” she winks as he picks her up, “Then let’s go.”

*                      *

Morgan has her head resting on Sawyer’s chest, one of his arms wrapped around her. They lay there, wrapped in nothing but each other and a thin sheet.

“Morgan,” his breathing is slow, she swore he had fallen asleep.

“Yes?”

“What about Boston?” He feels her stiffen next to him, “I can’t do this again if you’re just gonna leave.”

She sits up, looking over at him, “I quit.”

“You quit?”

“I left Boston for good. I quit my job. I came here…for you. For us.” She takes a deep breath, “That is, if you’ll take me back.”

He runs his finger through his hair as he sits up, “Morgan, I…I don’t want you to regret leaving Boston.”

“I went there, I was miserable without you.” She straddles his lap, “I want to be here. With you.”

He chuckles as she reaches over and placing his black hat on her head, “What on earth are you doing?”

“If I’m going to stay here, I think I need a refresher course on riding,” she winks just before he pulls her into his chest and kisses her, “And I hear you’re the perfect teacher.”

#pixelberry #choices fanfiction #choices #big sky country #choices bsc #sawyer x morgan

[edxwin-elric]

Darkest Roads - Ch. 3

Chapter 3: Sinners and Saints

Rating: T

Pairing: Edwin/Edward Elric x Winry Rockbell

Disclaimer: I don’t own Fullmetal Alchemist.

Total Work Count: 15k

Chapter Word Count: 6k

Title: Darkest Roads

Chapter Title: Sinners and Saints

Description: Edwin Street Race AU - Ed takes Winry for a drive in his car and things take a new turn in their relationship.

@fmabigbangs​

ffn || ao3 || tag

previous chapter

Edward

When I arrive back at the butcher shop, I notice a mysterious looking car parked in front as I’m carefully moving the bike into the alley. But I can’t worry about that. Weird cars or not, I know Izumi will be out here in two seconds to look for any damage I might’ve done.

Except she isn’t…

I wait for a minute before I frown and head inside, grabbing the notebook and carrier off the back along with the helmet. I drop my stuff by the door and move toward the front, stopping in the small hallway when I hear voices.

“Well, if you see anything or hear anything suspicious, please give us a call.”

I crane my neck a little and see a blonde lady in a blue suit handing Sig a business card.

“Also, are you sure Edward Elric won’t be here today? I have on record that he’s an employee here, and I have a few questions I’d like to ask him.”

Cold runs down my back, and I feel my jaw clench. I know that voice. It’s that bastard detective, Mustang. The one who approached me a few weeks ago about making me a C.I. and having me flip on members of the Devil’s Nest (plus anyone else I see committing crimes on the Lane). I told him to fuck off, so I can only imagine what he wants to talk about now.

“I already told you he’s out on a delivery run. I’m not sure when he’ll be back,” Izumi answers with a firm but pleasant tone.

“Well, I’m going to leave my card, too, if you’ll pass it along to him.”

“I’ll see that he gets it.”

And I’ll see that it gets immediately lost in the bio waste (aka the pig blood).

I continue waiting out of sight until the two detectives are safely outside and in their car.

“You can come out, Ed,” Izumi calls almost immediately, and I step into the main room, behind the counter.

“What did they want?”

“They were just checking around with local businesses to see if we’d seen or heard anything about the Saints of Ishval,” Sig chimes in grimly. “Apparently, their leader, Scar, has been causing trouble.”

“And who can blame them,” Izumi huffs as she begins violently chopping meat on the butcher block. “Local government has been passing mandates left and right that specifically target Ishvalan neighborhoods. It’s ridiculous.”

“They have a right to be upset about that,” Sig agrees calmly, “but it’s no reason to become violent with random citizens or even unprovoked law enforcement. Violence never solves anything.”

“I disagree,” Izumi snaps back bringing the cleaver down again. “Self-defense and survival often call for a bit of violence.”

Sig shakes his head and rubs his hand over her shoulder. “You know what I meant.”

“Oh, also,” she calls to me, in a not-subtle way of changing the subject, “the dark haired one asked about you.”

“I heard,” I grimace. “He approached me once before about…something. I bet it was that again. I’m still not interested though.”

“Well, I told him I’d give you this.”

She pulls off her gloves and grabs a business card out of her apron pocket. I take it and shove it in my back pocket, already timing the distance to the trash can to throw it out.

“If you finished those deliveries, you can do some inventory. It’s a pretty slow day,” she changes the subject. “That, or you can help me prep the fresh meat for display.” She nods to the bloody packages on ice behind her.

“I don’t mind doing inventory.”

It’s only for another half hour anyway, and I enjoy the silence back there.

“Only do the beef for now. I don’t want you in the freezer for too long, and that should be enough to get you started. Sig?”

“The stock count is on my desk. You can grab it before you go in. Come out front for a break after fifteen minutes, and I’ll see where you are then.”

“Yes, sir.” I nod and head to the office.

But my mind is still stuck on the Saints of Ishval. I mean, why would the cops think a the leader of a biker gang run out of the Southeast corner of the city would be harassing shop owners in a South-central neighborhood? Unless they’re moving on Devil’s Nest territory. I wonder how my new friend(?) in the Xingese District would feel about that. I mean, the Central underground has its variety of players, but usually they keep to their designated sections of town. The last time a border war—so to speak—broke out was when an Ishvalan child was killed by a cop from Central and all hell broke loose. The Ishvalan community has never really recovered, and the crime rate has only gone up.

“Ed!” Sig’s deep voice makes me jump. “You’d better be working in there! We don’t pay you to sit in a fridge and stare at meat!”

“Right. Yes, sir!” I yell back before reaching for the first shelf of beef and checking it against the list in my hand.

I shouldn’t be worrying about the Saints of Ishval right now. As much as the workings of the Central City underworld concern me, I wish they didn’t, and one day, I hope they don’t. If I want that to happen, I need to focus on my job. Checking the expiration dates on meat may not pay much, but it’s honest money, which is what I need if I’m going to afford groceries later.

Before I meet Winry at City Park.

Shit. I still have to go get her part from Donovan. I’ll have to do that after work but before groceries. I don’t want to be too close to the Lane when the sun sets or Greed will try to pull me into racing.

Swearing under my breath, I reach for another lump of meat and try to ignore the cold setting into the skin surrounding my automail anchors. Fuck, it’s going to be a long half hour.

Winry

I glance at my phone for the time and shift my weight, before shoving the device in my pocket. A chilly breeze makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up on end, and I rub my arms, looking around again for Edward. He was supposed to be here ten minutes ago, but so far, I haven’t seen him, and he hasn’t texted to say he was late or to reschedule or anything.

I walk around the waterless fountain and start to sit down on a bench when a car alarm goes off a few blocks away. My head whips toward the sound, and my heart freezes in my chest. The shock lasts about a second before I take a deep breath and scold myself for being so jumpy.

I’m paranoid, and I know it. The likelihood of anything happening in this park is really slim, but I can’t stop my mind from spinning wild scenarios now that I’m here. Alone. In the dark. Waiting for a boy I barely know to trade me a sort of illicit auto part in a sketchy exchange. With Paninya’s warning ringing in my ears, it’s impossible for me not to be skittish.

“Oh good. I found you.”

A short scream slips out of my mouth as I leap from my seat on the bench and whirl around.

“Hey, hey, it’s just me!” Ed hisses, holding his leather clad hands out. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I thought you heard me walk up.”

“Holy crap,” I whisper,  gasping as I shut my eyes with relief.

“I’m so sorry,” he goes on. “Fuck, I’m sorry for surprising you and for being late, actually.”

“I wasn’t sure you were coming,” I announce a little more coldly than I mean to as I straighten.

“I had to go by and get the part right before I came here. I was waiting on Donovan to finish his final check to make sure it was in perfect condition.”

“You have it?” I perk up at once. “Can I see it?”

He reaches up with one hand and rubs the back of his neck, wincing.

“What?” I frown.

“I’m not really supposed to give it to you until I have the money.”

“Well, I’m not sure I want to give you the money until I’ve looked at the part,” I counter, crossing my arms. “Why should I be the one who has to just believe you and Donovan didn’t rip me off?”

“Yeah…” He glances to the side. “ I guess that’s fair. Here.”

He nods to the bench, and I sit back down as he skirts the edge and takes the spot beside me. Taking the envelope of cash out of my coat, I set it in the space between us. He looks at it for a second, and I hold my breath, waiting for him to count it. I’m surprised when he doesn’t. Instead he pulls the part out of his jacket and holds it out to me.

“I watched him look over it with a high beam light and a magnifying glass,” he says quietly. “If you find something wrong with it, you can keep my thirty thousand cens.”

I raise an eyebrow and proceed to scan the part for any damage. When I can’t find any, I take a second envelope out of my coat and hold it out to Ed.

“What the fuck?” he mutters. “If this is the cash, what’s in that one? Were you bluffing?”

“No.” I shake my head. “This one is yours. The thirty thousand you just mentioned that I owe you.”

“What?” he blinks. “Really?”

“I told you I could pay you back,” I remind him. “What? You didn’t think I was serious.”

“Well, no, I mean, yes,” he sputters. “I just thought it would take you longer or–”

“I’m good with my money,” I explain over the end of his flailing sentence. “And I’m better with automail. I just don’t usually keep too much on hand. I only had what I had the other night because my friend suggested that much, but, obviously, she underestimated the price.”

“Yeah,” he mutters. “If I hadn’t been there to cover for you, things could’ve gone pretty bad.”

“Thanks again for that,” I whisper. “Anyway…” I stand and adjust the scarf at my neck. “It’s late, and if we’re done, I should probably be getting home.”

I glance over my shoulder toward the street, and hold back a sigh. I don’t know why I’m disappointed. This was only ever a business deal anyway.

“Wait.”

My head snaps back around, and I freeze as he stands and reaches for my hand.

“Don’t…don’t go yet.”

I look from our joined hands up to his face, my eyes wide with surprise.

“Why not?” I venture carefully. “There’s no reason I should stay…”

“What? Oh, fuck. I mean, yeah, you should probably leave…”

I notice his cheeks look pink in the dim light of the lamp posts, but I don’t say anything, even though he’s cute when he’s making a fool of himself.

“Do you…want me to stay?”

“What?” He flinches and looks up at me, dropping my hand. “I…uh, yeah, but–”

Before he can answer a loud roar of some kind of engine shatters the night. I look around, but can’t see anything even though the noise is getting closer.

“What is that?” I can’t keep the panic out of my voice, especially not after I see the look on Ed’s face.

“Motorcycle,” he mutters. “You need to go.”

“What? You just said–”

“Forget what I said,” he bites out as he grabs my hand and starts pulling me toward the entrance to the park. “Go home. Now. Don’t stop and don’t turn back.”

“I don’t understand,” I murmur. “Who is it? What do they want?”

“Nothing good.” He grimaces, and I feel cold slip into the folds of my coat.

“Okay.” I nod. “I’ll, um, text you when I get home.”

“Yeah. Sure.”

I tuck the rare auto part into my coat pocket and start down the block. I make it across the street and halfway up the next block when the roar of the engine overwhelms me. I turn toward it, and suddenly it’s coming right at me. Terror blasts through my veins and I duck my head, covering my ears as if that will somehow help.

It stops in front me me, the headlight blinding as the engines all cuts off. I blink as the headlight goes dark, leaving me shrouded in the light of the streetlamp and staring at a large dark blur dismounting the bike. I squint and make out a patch on the front of a leather cut.

The Saints of Ishval.

“Miss,” a rough voice comes from the dark figure and I take a step back.

“Who are you?”

A tall, muscular man steps out of the shadows, his face twisted with a frown and marred by an X shaped scar.

“I’ll ask the questions,” he rumbles. “What are you doing out so late all by yourself?”

“I…I…”

The auto part in my pocket suddenly feels heavier than before. Should I tell him the truth? Would it matter to him? Ed didn’t say why I should avoid them?

“I was taking a walk,” I stammer. “In the park.”

“This late? In winter?” His frown deepens, if that’s possible. “Alone?”

“Y-yes. I…” I lick my lips and feel my hands start trembling, and not from the cold.

“You what?”

He takes a step closer, and I take two backward, my back hitting the brick wall of a storefront.

“I, um… I’m–”

“She’s with me.”

Edward

The mountain sized man turns to look at me, and I curse myself for being this stupid. But I couldn’t just walk off and hope she made it home, so…I was following her. I would say it’s a good think I was since she’s been cornered by the leader of City’s most notorious biker gang, but I actually don’t know if I can get her out of this.

“And you are?”

“I’m Edward Elric,” I announce, as I move quickly toward Winry. “And that girl you’re scaring the fuck out of is my girlfriend.”

I see her eyes widen at the word, and I jerk my head at her, trying to get her to play along.

“Elric…” The giant turns to face me completely. “Don’t I know that name?”

“I…”

“Oh, yes, one of Greed’s racers,” he finishes before I can say anything. “That means you’re with the Devil’s Nest.”

I open my mouth to deny it when suddenly my arm is being twisted behind my back, and I’m pinned to the ground, my cheek scraping the concrete. Something in my automail snaps, and I squeeze my eyes shut as pain radiates up into my shoulder.

“Let him go!” Winry squeals. “We weren’t doing anything!”

I peek over my shoulder to see Scar glance at her and squint. “Then why were you here? If you’re his girlfriend like he says…”

“I—” I hiss as his knee digs into my back. “I snuck her out!” I lie, saying whatever words pop into my head. “She has a curfew, and I’m not really the type her dad wants to see her out with, so I brought her to the park so we could be alone.”

Winry, as brilliant as I thought, catches on fast.

“I have to get home,” she jumps in at once. “If my dad finds out I’m missing, he’ll call every cop in the city.”

“So, you were doing something then.” Scar snarls.

“Just making out!” I supply instantly, trying not to notice the instant blush that stains her cheeks. “But her dad checks on her at midnight, so–”

“Please, I can’t be gone when he–”

“Okay, fine,” Scar sighs, releasing me. “You can go.”

The knee in my spine moves off, and I scramble to my feet, watching Winry out of the corner of my eye as I stare at Scar.

“Thank you,” Winry murmurs as she inches toward me.

I take a step closer to her when Scar grabs my shoulder and leans down.

“But if I ever catch you or any of the Devil’s Nesters out again at night, all bets are off, Elric.”

“You won’t,” I guarantee him, even though I have no idea if that’s true.

Winry comes up beside me and attaches herself to my arm just as he backs away. I try not to wince at the sharp pain that shoots through my elbow, determined to stay still until he’s gone. We stand there, silently, as he starts his engine and rolls out.

“Thank you,” Winry exhales as soon as we’re alone again. “I…I–”

“Don’t mention it.”

I reach up to touch my hair and groan when my arm locks up.

“Your automail!” she gasps. “It’s damaged. You’re in pain.”

“No shit,” I hiss. “That guy was ridiculously strong.” And way too damn forceful.

“I can fix it,” she says as if I never spoke. “Come home with me. I have what I need there.”

“I’m sorry, what?” I blink.

“Your arm needs a repair,” she says urgently. “My granny should be asleep, so as long as we’re quiet, I can sneak you in and fix you up, and then sneak you back out without her knowing.”

Fuck, she just invited to sneak me into her bedroom—well, wherever she does her automail stuff. Tonight is out of control.

“I…”

“I won’t take ‘no’ for an answer,” she cuts in. “You got hurt helping me, so it’s the least I can do.”

“Fine.” I give in, not that it was too much of a struggle. “Lead the way.”

Winry

“This is where you live?”

I glance at him in the light from the lamp by the door and bite my lip.

“My family is sort of a big deal in automail,” I murmur. “My granny was one of the first engineers.”

Usually, I don’t think our house is anything grand. It’s a relatively modest two story with a small yard for my dog…but I guess it is in one of the nicer neighborhoods downtown.

“Right.” He nods slowly.

“Anyway, follow me, and be quiet.”

I lead him around the side of the house to the trellis. I could probably go in the front door, but there’s always the chance Granny is up late, and I don’t want to have to take him past her bedroom just in case.

“Can you climb with that wrist?”

“Yeah.”

I watch him curl his fingers into a fist and grimace, but he doesn’t change his answer.

“My bedroom is the window on the right.”

“Your bedroom. Cool. Okay,” he mumbles a string of words, and I suddenly realize what this scenario sort of resembles, a flame of heat instantly racing up the side of my neck.

“It’s locked,” I whisper, “so wait here until I get up there to open it.”

He nods, and I go around through the front door. In the case Granny is up, I want her to think I’m just coming home like a good girl and not about to sneak a boy into my room.

A flash of guilt squeezes my heart, and I do my best to ignore it.

I crack the window as soon as I get to it and wave for Ed to come up. I see him start to climb, watching for a few seconds to make sure he really can manage with his injured automail, before I go to my workbench and store the new part I have in my coat.

“I never thought I’d be the guy sneaking in a girl’s bedroom,” he mutters as his feet hit the floor with a loud thud.

“Shh!” I hiss at him, glancing wildly over my shoulder. “If my Granny finds you in here this late, I literally have no idea how she’ll react.”

But I imagine it won’t be good.

“Sorry.”

“Now,” I whisper, slipping off my coat and scarf, “give me your arm.”

He holds it out as I grab my headlamp and slide it on. After a quick glance, I grab some pliers and try to undo the fresh dent, but it won’t budge.

“I need to replace this plate,” I tell him without looking up. “I actually have one that should fit. Give me two seconds.”

Turning my back on him, I shift some other projects around and grab the part I need along with a screwdriver. It takes a minute to detach the damaged plate, but once it’s off I take a look at the inside just to make sure everything looks good.

“How often do you get your automail checked?” I ask softly, shining a penlight on some smaller gears.

“Uh…only when I absolutely have to, honestly.”

“I figured you’d say that.” I shake my head. “You have some rust, but it isn’t terrible. Let me oil it really quick.”

“You’re a real gearhead, aren’t you?” he asks my back as I’m digging through my oils and serums.

“What?”

“You’re so…zoned in on my automail. It’s like how I am when I’m driving.”

“Oh.” I blink. “I hadn’t really thought about it, but I guess so.”

I quickly administer the oil and grab the new plate, which I have to make a few adjustments to for the right fit.

“So…what did you mean about your driving?” I ask him as I punch a fresh hole in the metal, muffling it as much as I can.

“You probably heard Scar say I’m one of Greed’s racers,” he says softly, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. “It’s not really what I want to do, but…driving is all I’m really good at. Well, that and selling meat.”

“I assume a serious driver has a car?”

“Yeah, my baby. She was having engine trouble, so a friend of mine let me put her up in his garage. She’s on blocks because she also needs fresh tires. This 30k should help me fund the last few parts I need to fix her and get her going again.”

“What kind of car is she?”

“How did you know she’s a she?” He stares at me, and I shrug.

“You’re a guy? I don’t know. It just seemed logical. Did you name her?”

“Nina,” he says softly. “And she’s a red Dodge Challenger.”

“Hold still.” He winces as I set the plate and screw it into place. “How’s it feel?”

I watch him move his arm this way and that, throw some fake punches, and swing it over his head before he looks at me.

“Fucking amazing,” he mutters with undeniable awe. “I think this is the best it’s ever been.”

“If you want me to look at your leg sometime, say the word.”

He gives me a sideways glance, and I feel my face flush.

“I just meant–”

“I know.”

“Anyway, Nina,” I change the subject back to something safe. “I’d like to see her.”

“After I get her fixed up, I can pick you up and show her off. I’d love that.”

“Sounds good to me.” I agree instantly, trying to ignore Paninya’s voice in my head screaming this is a bad idea.

“I’ll text you.”

I start to say something about how he never texted before, but stop myself. It doesn’t matter now anyway, if it ever did.

“Cool.” I nod instead. “Now it’s time to sneak you out of here before my Granny hears us."

“Right.” He walks back over to the window and slides it up before looking over at me. “Have a goodnight, princess.”

“Shut up and go home, Ed,” I laugh at him.

He slides his leg out, and I watch as he disappears. After a few seconds, though, I rush over to look down at him.

“What?” he mouths up at me, and I shake my head.

“Nothing. Just…have a goodnight, too, Edward.”

He grins and drops the rest of the way to the ground, going immediately into a somersault, and then dashing off into the night.

Edward

“Fuck. Okay. It’s fine. You’re fine, and you can do this,” I mutter to myself as I slow to a measly five miles an hour and turn onto the street in front of Winry’s house.

Something like a thousand tiny tiny fingertips run down my spine, and my stomach lurches.

“Shit. Maybe I can’t do this.”

I called her a week ago—called, not texted—when I finally had everything done to get Nina back on the road.  I still want to customize her paint job, but Cherry Red looks good on her for the moment. Now, I’m at Winry’s house, waiting to pick her up for what I’m like 90% sure is a date, and I’m not totally sure how that happened.

My phone pings, and I grab it from the cupholder.

Automail Princess: is that you?

I text her back a quick “yeah,” and watch as the front door to the house swings open and she comes running out.

In a dress.

Fuck, I was right. Her legs are amazing.

I groan and throw my head back, banging it against the seat, stopping quickly when she opens the passenger door.

“So where are you and Nina taking me?” She bounces a little in her seat, and I bite my lip to hide my smile.

She’s too adorable.

Which is why this won’t work out.

I shake off the stupid voice in my head and shift gears as she buckles her seatbelt.

“Well, I figured I could drive around the city, and then through the backroads outside of town if you wanted. I can get up to some decent speeds on those since they’re not as heavily policed.”

“Sounds good. Did you have any sort of destination in mind?”

I cough, and reach up to beat my chest with my fist.

“Um…I don’t know, why?”

“Well…” she starts and trails off immediately.

“What?”

“There’s this place,” she says before taking a breath. “I’ve never been there, but I have this friend, and she said… Nevermind, I shouldn’t mention it. It’s dumb, and probably too out of the way–”

“Give me a hint,” I interrupt, secretly loving how flustered she is.

“It’s at the top of this hill. It’s supposed to be the highest point in Amestris, or at least Central City, and–”

I slam on the brakes without meaning to and she squeals before her seatbelt catches her, cutting her off.

“Shit. Fuck. Sorry,” I ramble, speeding up immediately, and forcing my eyes to focus on the road and the windshield and not looking at her.

“You know the place then?” she asks quietly.

“Uh…yeah,” I admit, a muscle in my jaw twitching.

She’s talking about Sniper’s Lookout. It’s an abandoned parking lot outside an old condemned bell tower. I think it used to be part of a church, but the rumor is the best sniper in Central used to use the tower for target practice by shooting birds out of the sky.

But more importantly, Sniper’s Lookout is most notorious for being the premier place for teenagers to go parking.

“Do you, uh, wanna go there?” I glance at her before quickly shifting my eyes back to the road.

“I think so,” she answers after a beat, her voice suddenly softer.

I’m afraid to ask if she means what I think she means, but I’m also afraid not to. I debate with myself in silence as I turn onto the road that leads out of town, directly into the setting sun.

“Ed, are you okay?”

Shit. I’ve been quiet too long.

“Yeah.” I nod. “Just thinking.”

“I freaked you out, didn’t I?” she blurts at once. “If you don’t want to drive all the way up there, we don’t have to. I just thought–”

“No, you didn’t,” I lie to calm her down. “I just have a lot on my mind.”

“Oh…okay.”

“Winry,” I ask suddenly, looking over at her. “Do you know what people—couples, I mean—do at Sniper’s Lookout?”

She blinks, and I watch her cheeks turn a perfect shade of pink.

“Well, I have an idea,” she mumbles. “But, I really just wanted a place we could talk.”

Oh.

“Well, I guess that makes sense.” I nod.

I’m an idiot. Of course she doesn’t want to fool around. We’ve only seen each other twice before now, and never as anything romantic…

She reaches forward and turns on the radio, and we drive in comfortable silence until, the sun completely sets, and I make the turn onto the lane that zigzags back and forth to the top of the tallest hill in the city.

“So…” I turn to her as I cut the engine, the sudden silence deafening. “What did you want to talk about?”

“I really like you,” says suddenly. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said it like that, but… Well, my friend, Paninya, she’s the one I mentioned before, I’m replacing her knee joints.”

I blink at her and nod slowly.

“…okay?”

“Her adoptive dad is her automail mechanic, and she still hasn’t told him I’m doing the replacement, which is stressing me out. Oh, and that’s also why I needed the part you hooked me up with.”

“Go on.”

“The real problem though, is… Well, I’m weaponizing her legs.”

“I’m sorry, what?” I blink at her.

“Before the law went through about combat automail, she had these self-defense items, and if you knew her, you’d totally understand why she needs them, but her dad complied with the new rules and removed them because she isn’t twenty-one yet.”

“And you’re going to reinstall them?”

“Yes, and…I can’t tell anyone because, well, it’s illegal.”

“But you’re telling me,” I point out quietly.

“I really needed to tell someone, and I…thought you’d understand, and I’m really hoping you’re trustworthy.”

“I do, and…I am,” I assure her. “It’s a pretty big deal though, isn’t it? Doing that kind of automail work?”

“It’s not simple, for sure,” she admits, leaning forward to slide off her jacket. “But I can manage.”

My eyes get caught on the flashes of skin on her bare shoulders. Middle of winter and she’s wearing a pink top with off-the-shoulder sleeves. I’m not sure why, but that seems to be 100% on brand for her.

“I’m trying to get away from racing,” I confess, though I’m not sure why. Something about her makes me want to bare my soul. “I want to get away from Sinners’ Lane entirely, actually. My brother is about to finish high school, and I really want him to go off to college. One of us should.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I had to take care of him.” I sigh. “Our dad bailed when we were little, and our mom died a few years later… It’s been just us for most of our lives.”

“That’s… I’m sorry.”

“It is what it is.” I shrug.

“How did you lose your arm and leg, if I can ask that?”

“Car accident of course.”

“Racing?”

“Actually, no.” I grin. “I ran out in front of a car to save Al and got hit. It wasn’t long after out mom died. By then, we were in foster care, but our foster parents were actually pretty cool. I… They gave me a job at their butcher shop when I aged out, and when I got my own place I took Al with me, but they’re basically family.”

“That’s good.”

I mean, I guess could’ve left Al with them while I went to school, but that didn’t feel right.

“I guess we’re both figuring shit out.” I run my fingers through my bangs.

“Maybe we could…figure it out together?”

I look over at her and raise an eyebrow.

“I don’t really know what I’m doing,” she murmurs, “but I know I like being with you…”

“I like being with you, too,” I whisper.

Her body angles toward mine, and I stop breathing. She blinks slowly, and I get hung up on how her lashes make her eyes look bluer than normal, which is saying something. A guy could drown in those dark pools…

“Kiss me, Ed.”

I’m not sure if she really said it, or if I imagined it, but the next thing I know, I’m moving my head toward her, and she’s watching my lips as I lower them to hers.

(art by @ayanthos​)

She tastes like a daydream.

My automail fingers slide into the hair by her neck, and my other hand grips the steering wheel as she turns slightly, giving me an opening to deepen the kiss. She gasps against my mouth, and I grin.

She pulls back, and I watch as she takes a short breath and reaches up to touch her lips.

“You okay, princess?”

She nods, but her eyes are shining. Fuck. Is she gonna cry?

“I thought you wanted me to,” I whisper quickly. “I–”

Before I can finish, her finger comes up to my lips, shutting me up.

“It was perfect,” she murmurs. “I… No one has ever kissed me before.”

“What?” I stare at her. “Not ever? Really?”

“Yeah.”

She leans back in and kisses my cheek before pulling away and letting out a short sigh.

“I think I should be getting home soon,” she whispers.

“Right.”

My cheek is burning from where her lips touched it, but I ignore that and focus on starting my car and driving her back to the city. When I pull up in front of her house, I realize I don’t want her to go.

“Can I call you again?”

“I’d like that,” she nods. “And, actually, I sort of need another one of those parts you got me before. I’m doing both of Pan’s knees, so…”

“I can talk to Donovan.”

“Great.” She beams as she reaches for her door handle.

“Wait.” I reach out and grab her hand, pulling her back to me.

“What?”

“Don’t…kiss anyone else, okay?”

Her eyes widen and then soften as she bites her lip.

“I won’t if you won’t.”

“Deal.”

She slides out, and I watch as she walks up the steps before turning to wave at me.

“Nina,” I announce as I pull away. “I think you just got me a girlfriend.”

Winry

“Was that the hot guy?”

Paninya is waiting inside as soon as I step in the door.

“His name is still Edward,” I remind her.

“So, it is him?”

“It is who?” Granny steps out of the kitchen.

“My…boyfriend,” I say definitively.

“What!” Pan screeches. “Winry, you can’t be–”

“Is his surname Elric?” Granny interrupts her, and I freeze.

“Um, yeah, actually.”

“I knew his parents.” She nods. “Good people.”

I almost ask about his MIA dad, but don’t get the chance since Paninya grabs my arm and drags me up the stairs.

“Winry, I told you not to go after a boy from the Lane.”

“I didn’t, it just happened,” I tell her honestly. “And…don’t try to talk me out of it.”

She opens her mouth like she’s going to say something and then closes it again instead.

This happens three times.

“Okay, fine,” she finally says in a huff. “But I wouldn’t be a good friend if I didn’t say one thing.”

“What?”

“Don’t fall for him. You can date him all you want. If you want to make out with him in an alley or sneak him into your bedroom, go for it. Fuck him in his car or on the second-hand couch in his shitty apartment. I don’t care, but don’t fall in love with him.”

“Pan–”

“If you fall in love with him, and he breaks your heart…”

Her face says more than any number of words ever could.

“Okay,” I whisper, hoping to easer her mind.

“Promise me.”

“I…” She leans toward me, and I shut my eyes. “I promise.”

“I’m spending the night by the way,” she announces.

“You’re always welcome,” I remind her softly.

She disappears into the bathroom, and I let out a sigh of relief.

Or regret.

I promised her I wouldn’t fall for Edward, but…

I think it’s too late for that.

#fma big bang #fmabb #edwin #edwin fic #edward elric #winry rockbell #fma #fmab #my fic #my edwin #darkest roads #sinners and saints #fullmetal alchemist #fullmetal alchemist brotherhood #fma brotherhood #fma fic #fma fanfiction #edwin fanfiction #edwin fluff #otp: tears of joy #fueled by fire

[galadrieljones]

That he may hold me by the hand: chapter 7

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Albert Mason  

Rating: Mature (Adult Themes and Situations, Violence, and Sexual Content)

Summary: After saving Albert from stumbling off a cliff in the Heartlands, Arthur invites him to Valentine for a drink. What ensues after that is a quiet love story, in which both men find themselves completely undone.

Masterpost | AO3 | Epigraph

Chapter 7: Nature. Romance. They ain’t the same.

Some days later, Arthur waited in the saloon with his journal and a beer, sketching the sunny windows of the place and a couple of the women sitting in them, like birds with their feathers and casting shadows. It was close to lunch time. With so much protected rest, he was feeling somewhat on the mend now, better all the time, and in truth, some parts of his consciousness had already begun to vacate his former life. Albert had sent one of the girls out to the doctor in town to pick up a supply of epsom salts, which Arthur soaked in a couple times a day. It was weird and the stuff made his skin feel tight and dry, but it helped. It really did. And he had been drawing so much, he could weirdly feel himself improving his art, which was a fucked-up sensation of massive proportion that he rarely felt privy to at all in his day-to-day.

Safety is an addictive drug. Arthur felt clean and fed and even in his moods. He rarely left the hotel. Albert went out quite often on his business with the gallery. They still had plans to visit the orchids in the Roanoke Valley as soon as Arthur’s riding chops returned, and his ribs improved. He estimated another week or so should do it. John and Mary Beth both knew exactly where he was and though he had not told them as much, he got the sense they knew the truth. It did not register with him in any nervous sense. He hoped they knew, even as he wondered what they thought of him. 

Arthur yielded so little in his life to those who thought they knew him. He wasn't sure why anymore. He just wanted for solace. He still heard the ringing in his ears sometimes, that which Colm O'Driscoll had put there, clapping his ears, breaking his bones. He'd been shot before, but only once had he been forced to cauterize his own wound in a darkened cellar with a taper candle. Sometimes he thought about how this one and single instant seemed to sum up his whole life. He tried not to dwell in that place for long though, as it was nonsense and self-pity. There were those who had it worse than him. There were those who loved him and who long had. And there was Albert Mason.

Sitting there that day, he was waiting for Albert to return from a meeting with the gallery-owner who had picked up a number of his photos to exhibit. The opening would be in a couple weeks time. The bartender came over for a little while to talk to him while shining up a glass, and one of the saloon girls brought him some food. He ate and read and sketched. At some point, he was getting ready to head upstairs, but suddenly then, he was no longer alone. Josiah Trelawny had appeared, sitting down across from him in all of his canny glory, mustache sculpted to its intimidating degree, one leg crossed over the other, looking quietly ecstatic.

“Mr. Morgan,” he said.

“Mr. Trelawny,” said Arthur, closing his journal. He held out his hand for a shake. “What the hell are you doing here.”

"I should wager the same to you. A sight for sore eyes you are, dear boy. Any sighting of Arthur Morgan in the wild is rare indeed.”

“I think you’re trying to flatter me,” said Arthur, “but you know I can’t always tell.”

“Only flattery with you, my friend,” said Josiah. He smiled and leaned. “Bandying about the high saloon of St. Denis, I see? Are you here for the gambling?”

Arthur chuckled. “No sir,” he said. “Or, not today at least.”

“You know we haven’t seen you around Clemens Point in a while,” he said. “Most are ignorant to your absence as usual, but considering the state of you last we saw, there’s some concern in the camp as to whether or not you’re okay.”

“I’m just fine.”

“I see that now.”

“How are you?” said Arthur. “You here visiting your wife?”

“Yes, I am,” said Josiah, softening. “Her bed is very warm, and her arms are very long. They go all the way around me, and I am no small man. She's a tall woman, my wife."

"I did not know that."

"Well, now you do. And after my run-in with those ingrate bounty hunters a couple months back, I am in the market for comfortable sleeping with tall women who love me.”

“Yeah, I know that sort of feeling,” said Arthur, looking down at his hands. "Quite well."

This seemed to interest Josiah. He straightened off the back of the chair and leaned forward with his hands folded neatly on the table. “Mr. Morgan.”

“What?”

“Excuse me for prying,” he said, “but may I be so bold as to inquire…are you seeing someone?”

Somewhere across the bar, a woman threw her drink in the face of a man, spat on his shoes, and stormed out the double-doors. The music stopped momentarily while the man stood in disbelief, dripping from his beard, but then it started up again moments later, and the room resumed its mid-day debauchery as if nothing had happened at all.

“Am I what?” said Arthur.

“Have you taken a lover?" said Josiah. "In St. Denis. You've got a kept look about you at the moment.”

"Oh,” said Arthur, smiling. “Kept, huh?”

"Indeed,” said Josiah. He lowered his voice then, smiling in secret. “It’s not Mary, is it? I know she was here, in the city.”

Arthur found this amusing. “No. No, it ain't Mary.”

“Then who is she?”

Arthur smiled, kind of nonplussed. “Well,” he said, clearing his throat. He looked around. The saloon was about half-full. There was a poker game going on over by the window. He leaned against the table and felt a little silly. It seemed silly to recall it out loud. “He’s a…nature photographer. He’s in town on business, and I met him some months back over in West Elizabeth, randomly. It was…maybe a week or so before that time we busted Sean free from them bounty hunters over in Blackwater. He hails from Philadelphia originally, and he’s quite decent.”

Josiah had not blinked. He was staring. Then he blinked many times in a row as if accomplishing his bearings and processing what he had just heard. “Why, Mr. Morgan,” he said. “I had no idea you kept the company of gentlemen. I’m so very sorry for my assumption.”

Arthur waved him off. “No reason to apologize,” he said. “Truth be told, you were right in your assumptions, until now. This entire thing has taken me by complete surprise. Both me and him, I reckon.”

“Does anyone else know?” said Josiah. “About why it is you’ve been so absent from our camp?”

“Not really,” said Arthur. “Or, well, Mary Beth, maybe. John. They might've guessed by now. I can’t be sure. I’ve never told anyone outright, not till now. It ain’t that I’m ashamed. It’s just that—it’s a relationship that is away from all that. It don’t belong to nobody but me. I ain’t had that so much in my life, Josiah, and I ain’t eager to share.”

“I understand. This information is safe with me, Arthur.”

“Yeah, I know. Thank you.”

One of the saloon girls came over then, took their orders. Josiah ordered a glass of bourbon. Arthur just ordered a bottle of beer. “You know, I’ve dallianced with men in the past,” said Josiah, examining his nails. “Before I met my wife of course. I chose her, but there was a time when I was more or less in the wind.”

“Seriously?” said Arthur.

“Oh, yes. Love is love, dear boy. Sometimes, it just takes the shape we least expect.”

Arthur grinned at this, holding his beer with both hands. “I suppose you’re right. I just never thought of it like that.”

“Until now,” said Josiah.

“Yes,” said Arthur. “Until now.”

The saloon girl came over with their drinks. Josiah paid for them both and tipped her generously. “To you,” said Josiah, to Arthur. They toasted and drank. Josiah took out a deck of cards, which he proceeded to shuffle. He showed Arthur a new magic trick he had invented, and told him that he was planning a visit to the orphanage in town that very day, to do a magic show.

"That is mighty generous of you, Mr. Trelawny.”

“Well, I try to do my part.” He wiped his forehead with a handkerchief, as if nervous.

That is when Albert arrived and approached the table, smiling in his gracious manner. He said hello to Arthur, and Arthur stood upon his arrival until Albert urged him to sit back down. Josiah did not move.  

“Mr. Mason,” he said, fully surprised. They shook hands. “Fancy seeing you here again. Are you back for the cards? You know beginner’s luck only applies once, my dear boy. You’ll need skill if you’re to rake once more, and skill takes practice.”

Albert laughed at this, visibly blushed. “No, sir,” he said. “I’m afraid my days as a card shark have passed. I’d prefer to go out on a high note.”

“Very smart,” said Josiah. He then glanced to Arthur. “Mr. Mason, meet my dear friend, Arthur Morgan.”

Arthur looked down at the cards on the table, smiling at them, and then back to Albert, and then to Josiah.

Albert removed his hat from his head. “Yes, we’ve met,” he said. “Though I didn’t know the two of you knew one another.”

“I beg your pardon,” said Josiah.

“Mr. Trelawny and I go way back,” said Arthur to Albert. “A decade or more if I ain’t mistaken.”

“Good heavens,” said Albert. “It is quite the coincidence then.”

Josiah was staring, at the two of them, seeming to come into a slow but certain realization. He looked at Albert. “Mr. Mason, you wouldn’t happen to be a nature photographer, would you?”

“Why, yes,” said Albert. “I am. Why do you ask?”

Josiah gazed at Arthur. “No reason.” He smiled. “Well, I should be on my way,” he said. He got up, placed his hat atop his head. “Mr. Mason, it was wonderful seeing you again. Stay sharp. And Mr. Morgan, it is always a pleasure with you. I’m glad to see that you’re healing.”

“Yeah, don’t get too excited.”

“I certainly will,” he said. “I’ll let slip to Dutch, too, that you’re on a job of high esteem.”

“That won’t be necessary, but thank you anyway.”

“Adieu, good sirs,” he said, and then he bowed and went away.

When they were alone but for the sounds of the room and the horses outside on the cobblestone, Albert stood for a moment, full of social grace. He then set his hat on the table and his valise on the floor, and he sat down across from Arthur. They kept their hands tucked into their laps for a while, and then Arthur folded his on the table. They looked down at the table cloth and then up at one another. Arthur took a deep breath. "Good afternoon, Mr. Mason,” he said.

Albert fumbled for words. He felt himself blushing to an ungentlemanly degree. He then looked up at Arthur and said, “You look good today. Your color. I'm sorry I missed you this morning.”

“Don't worry about it,” said Arthur. He took a breath. “So, Josiah—that’s the magician who taught you cards is it.”

“Yes, sir. It certainly is a strange bit of happenstance.”

Arthur found this amusing. “Yeah, I should've figured.” He took a drink of his beer, straightened his pencil, set his journal aside. “How was your meeting?”

“It was good,” said Albert, loosening up a little. He exhaled. “They’re very happy with my work, which is both exciting but also entirely confounding. I hope you’ll accompany me to the opening.”

This seemed to catch Arthur undone. He was flattered. “Sure,” he said, nodding. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

“Splendid,” said Albert, watching him. The eyes, their blue. He got lost. Arthur paid his tab from earlier, tucked his journal into his pocket. Then he picked up Albert’s valise. They went upstairs.

It was this day that marked the end of a time in which Albert could say that Arthur had not been inside him. His strength returned with enough rest and stability, Arthur bent Albert to the bed, removed his clothes and his composure completely. The lid gone to the petroleum jelly, he went so slow as to induce some kind of physical, emotional ecstasy. Agonizing. They made a beautiful mess of one another, ordered lunch, and took a very long bath and did not again emerge from the second floor of the saloon until after nine-pm.

When they went back downstairs, they bought a bottle of wine. It was so strange, as it seemed their world had become small, a diorama of what it had been before. They had become city men, indoor men, just for a little while. For Albert, this sort of thing was old hat, but for Arthur, it was new. They shared the wine with the bartender who talked them into a few impromptu hands of blackjack, and of course, Arthur won every time, almost to an embarrassing degree. It did not even seem to register, how easy it was for him. His intelligence escaped him, past the decades of pain he hid away beneath his quiet armor. And he was just so good at these sorts of things, thought Albert. His gunslinger.

That night, they lay in Albert’s bed, a little wine drunk and high. One of the bar girls had shared with them her bounty of hash cigarettes, and they took to it dreamily, paid her triple. Arthur was drawing something—some sort of tree. Perhaps a tupelo. Hanging from its branches were all of these dreamcatchers. Albert watched, and then he read sometimes, this tremendous novel of awful cynicism called McTeague. It was brand new and terribly unromantic. Almost Darwinian. He had only just picked it up that very day. He read parts of it out loud to Arthur who laughed it off.

“Of course the huge, idiotic brute named McTeague is gonna get the girl in a book like that,” he said, shading his picture with the flat edge of the pencil. “Of course. That ain’t nice, that sort of Realism. You go reading long enough, she’ll probably end up dead, the girl. I’ll bet he kills her. For money, convenience, something stupid like that. Fortune favors the angry, Albert. You want for that which is simple enough, and you go to it, angry enough, you’ll get it, no matter how many folks’ lives you end in the process, including your own. That’s just evil in a world that don’t care. I know all about that.”

“Have you read this already?” said Albert.

“No,” said Arthur. “But I know what kind of book that is. I can just tell.” He finished his drawing, and he closed his journal. He looked at Albert, got quiet and he took his hand. “I don’t want that life no more,” he said. "I mean it."

Albert kissed him, soft. He still knew very little of what Arthur did, only who Arthur was. To him. He said, “Let me be good to you. You’ve always been good to me.”

“Good to you, sure,” said Arthur. “But good for you?”

“You let me be the judge of that.”

Arthur smiled. “Okay, Mr. Mason.”

There was a knock on the door then. A pounding, eager and loud, startling them both. Albert looked at his watch. It was after midnight. “Who could that be?”

They got up, dressed in their night clothes. Arthur removed himself to the sitting room, on his guard. Albert answered the door. It was John Marston.

“John?” he said. “What’s the matter? Is everything all right?”

“No,” he said. He looked disheveled and had a long, bloody cut on his hand which he had wrapped in a stained linen handkerchief. “I'm sorry to disturb. I truly am, but is Arthur here?”

“Yes. Please come in.” Albert stepped aside.

Arthur knotted his hair off his face. John came in, looking terrified, like absolute shit. “John,” said Arthur. "What's going on?"

“It’s Jack,” said John.

“What about Jack?”

“He’s missing,” said John. He looked away, as if in shame. He dropped his head into his hands. "Got kidnapped."

“Kidnapped?”

“Kieran said he didn’t think nothing of it—they was outside camp,” said John.

"Who was?"

“Braithwaites. He came back to report on them, and he said something, but it was too late. Abbie is—she ain’t doing good, Arthur.” He was near on crying. Arthur went to him. He placed his hand on John’s shoulder, leaned in to study his busted up face, his eyes, steadied him hard. “It’s all coming home,” said John, shaking his head. “It’s all coming home, brother. Sean is dead.”

“What?”

“There was an ambush in Rhodes,” John continued. “He got blown away. Now, Jack. I’m sorry. I—I wouldn’t’ve come. I know you got—” He looked at Albert, who was watching the carpet on the floor between. He appeared to be fraught, concerned, but he did not meet John’s eyes. He maintained his distance and waited in silence. John looked back to Arthur. “I need you,” he said, laid bare. "Will you help me?"

Arthur said, “You wait downstairs. I will be right there.”

Tornadoes always hit in the dullest part of the afternoon, in the humidity of summer when suddenly a cool wind blows through, and you look up, and there’s green in the sky.

“Who is Jack?” said Albert as Arthur dressed. “Is that John’s son?”

“Yes,” said Arthur. "He's just a kid. He's little."

“My god.”

“I will be back as soon as I can.”

“I have money, Arthur. If there’s a ransom, or—”

But Arthur cut him off, buckling his holster. It was the first time he’d even lifted it from the ground in a week. “It ain’t about money, Mr. Mason,” he said, very cavalier. He kissed him. “I assure you. It’s like I said before, evil in a world that don’t care. But know that I am grateful for the offer. I am.”

Albert held back. He wasn’t sure why. Truth be told, he was terrified, but he was afraid to communicate this to Arthur now. He saw him to the door and held it inside. “Be safe, dear friend,” he said, holding himself upright against the frame. “Please be safe.”

#red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #arthur morgan #albert mason #arthur x albert #arthur morgan x albert mason #albthur #that he may hold #thank you for your patience <3

[carrera-ffxiv]

The Wolf of Yanxia

The typically clean bandages on his hands were dirtied and dyed a dark crimson hue. His grip trembled from all the blunt force trauma while he held the glass. The bartender seemed calm enough as he continued to serve drinks, seemingly unphased by the fact that a half dozen regulars donning black suits laid sprawled about the floor either unconscious or wailing periodically.

“It’s good to see you again, sir. You know the mistress will not take kindly to this, though. I wish you wouldn’t stir trouble for yourself here, sir.”

“Glad you still remember what I drink.”

“Neat whiskey is easy enough to remember, sir.”

“How’s the family?” Hadriel asked. 

“Doing well, sir, business has been treating me well enough. Still gets rowdy in here quite often-” he paused to look around at the mess Hadriel made, “...but the mistress ensures all tabs are paid on time and any damages are compensated.”

“Yeah. Sorry about that. The only thing I regret is that I’ve made a mess for you to clean up.” he offered a sympathetic smile and drank the entire glass, set it down, and motioned for another. He smelled noticeably like booze as it were, using a pocket-brush as he waited for the drink.

“Don’t give it a second thought, sir. Again, I’m more worried for you right now.”

A different voice sounded as the attendant rushed down the stairs, looking exceptionally calm, “Sir, Mistress Himaa will see you now.” he offered a respectful bow as Hadriel downed the rest of his whiskey in a fluid motion.

Hadriel made his way upstairs guided by the attendant, walking past various rooms behind a series of paper partitions. When he got to the largest center-room, the attendant slid the door open and backed up for him to go through with another bow. Hadriel briefly rubbed a little omamori he was carrying, gifted to him.

“Did you have to be so mean to my boys?” The voice was pleasant but clearly laden with an irritated tone. She sat at a table, the lighting was dark with but a candle flickering in the private room. The young woman was a delicate looking Xaela wearing a rather agitated expression. Though she looked soft, she was dressed in an intimidating fashion donning a black suit. The most striking feature was, however, her heterochromia- specifically that one eye shined a bright blue glowing singularly in the darkness.

“Have to? No. But I did enjoy it. Maybe they should’ve let me walk in and see you instead of making a deal out of it. A healer friend recently took care of an old wound I had, figured I’d stretch my legs out a bit. You know, sometimes you don’t know what really ails you until someone else points it out. A passive pain that grows and grows and your body has already become accustomed to it so it’s like… just another part of life, another day.”

She huffed disregarding his little monologue, “Still wearing that dumb eye patch to cover up such a proud symbol.”

“Anyway, I know your attention span is pretty shit so, the moral of the story is that dealing with the lot of you is lately is making me realize what a festering wound it’s left.”

She narrowed her eyes, “The lot of us? You have some nerve coming in here with that attitude, Hadriel. I’m not your enemy. Most of us are content enough to leave you alone.”

“Most, Adala?” he responded.

“Most of us remember why the Garleans gave a kill-on-sight order and nicknamed you the Wolf of Yanxia. You set the record for most imperial regiment captains assassinated. Still gets me hot and bothered thinking about it.” she winked at him with a devious smirk, “Remember, if you ever get over your dead wife I’ll be more than happy to show you what you’ve been missing out on… anyway, I can’t say your hands are clean in this either. You’re the one who chose to walk away from the Black Blades of Doma.”

“I chose to walk away because even through everything I’ve done for the organization, none would help me chase the traitor I was hunting for years that fled to Eorzea.”

Another presence seemed to saunter in from the shadows, a Midlander Hyur with dark hair and crimson highlights wearing a raven-colored dress. Even for a spell-flinger she was known for her dramatic entrances. She often enjoyed translocation through aetherial manipulation. Her bright red eyes focused on Hadriel as she spoke, “That was a personal vendetta. Not something the organization was interested in.”

“Carrera. No one. Invited. You.” the Xaela spoke.

“As far as I care the organization has fallen far and deep from what we once stood for. Common thugs collecting ‘protection fees’ and harassing the citizens we fought to free from oppression.” he continued.

“Tch. Three executives in one room, how often does that happen? Anyway, waging war costs money. It’s not a stretch to say that it’s a protection fee.” Adala offered calmly.

“Former executive.” Hadriel rebutted. “Speaking of which, what happened to your eye?” he asked Carrera.

She slowly brought a hand past her face to cover her expression a moment revealing her left eye to be much like Adala’s- a lightly glowing bright blue. She reversed the motion and as her hand passed the color restored to a crimson. “A simple glamour any third-rate caster can manage. Well, without you our numbers fall to eight now.”

“We lost someone?” he inquired.

“Oh, it’s we now?” Adala retorted, “Yes. Daichi is the one who sent those boys after you that you chopped up and sent us in barrels. Nice, by the way. He’s the one whose been heading up those fees you’re talking about. We let it happen because, like I said, wars cost money.”

“But he was getting brazen and we handled it. You left but you did not do so on bad terms. We voted to leave you be considering your accomplishments and contributions. I don’t know what you’re thinking but we didn’t devolve into rabid animals after you left. The fact that you were left alone for so long so uncharacteristically of the Black Blades isn’t because we couldn’t reach you. Rather that we didn’t want to reach you. Then he broke that agreement. So we removed him. Believe it or not, the majority of us empathized with you and were sad to see our own brother go.” the other elaborated.

“The majority? Heh. Could have fooled me. Feels like we were always at odds.” He added.

Carrera continued softly, “Your spot has been left vacant in the hopes that you would return to us once your vendetta came to its conclusion. The vote to replace your position was a four to five split. Three did not want to replace you, a fourth felt there was no worthy successor at the time so voted against, a fifth also in your favor however felt it was easier to have nine executives rather than ten since it’s easier to get motions passed instead of having pointless fights to make a decision. And then we just lost Daichi so… we’re back to arguing a lot.”

“So three liked me. That’s three more than I thought. And far from a majority.”

“Is the bar-owner business going well? You have what, three now?” Carerra asked coolly, “I hear you joined a Free Company. Ashen Wolves? Mn? Oh and who was their director? A cute Miqo’te if I remember correctly… M-something... Mira? How is that working out for you?”

Adala slammed the table with a fierce expression, “You’re cheating on me?”

He simply raised his hand to his face with an overt sigh, “... Back to this again. How can I be cheating on you when we were never together. I really didn’t miss this part. And you, what are you getting at?”

“Nothing.” she responded in a sing-songy voice. “Just curious is all. So how about it Hadriel? Come back to us. We’ve fixed the problem, no harm, no foul and the power balance has shifted in our favor.”

Adala chimed in, “The wolf of Yanxia joining a pack of wolves? That’s cute.”

“I’ll consider it. Just stay the fuck away from the free company.”

“Ohh?” Carrera said in a faux saddened tone, “Here I wanted to see what you were up to. Well, how about we make a deal, hmn? No one has to know who I am, we can even say I’m your attendant. It’ll be convenient for me to operate out of the area since now I happen to have business in Eorzea as well.”

“My attendant? That doesn’t even make sense.”

“Oh? Attendant, assistant, whatever. Well I thought it’d be decent enough cover for me. You need help managing your business too, right? You know I’m pretty good with numbers.”

Adala figured Carrera had an ulterior motive but quietly listened. The two weren’t in the habit of getting in each other’s way.

“As if I’d let you touch much less look at my ledgers. What’s your angle?”

“I have my reasons. But also, let’s just say I want you to feel like you made the right choice. We didn’t support you when you moved your hunt to Eorzea and you needed us- put the shoe on the other foot. I’m asking you a favor right now too, and expanding my interests back into Eorzea. And making amends on behalf of the others. Are you going to leave me to fend for myself or can I count on you?”

Hadriel considered a hundred different reasons why it was a bad idea and thought of a thousand more as why specifically she was trying to angle into his new organization.

“So you want me to rejoin the Black Blades and you want to come over to my new organization. This doesn’t look, smell, sound, taste or even feel right.”

“There’s a lot in it for you that you refuse to see. Your networks in Hingashi and Doma will not only be restored to you in full, they’ve expanded greatly, and I’m sure that’ll be of personal benefit to you, as well as to your wolves. But one thing at a time. If you accept our offer then we can call for a summons of all the executives and discuss your reinitiation. Though I’m sure if but one of us simply drops your name they’d all show up regardless. Just think about it.” She slides an old Doman coin over with a devlish grin.

Hadriel opened his mouth and meticulously chose his words, looking to Carrera carefully, “I have a strange feeling that…  one of us is going to regret this.”

#mentions: @smira-asah-xiv

[freddiesaysalright]

My Man Part V

A Ben!Roger Taylor x Reader Fic

Summary:  Reader is a Broadway actress currently starring in a West End production of Funny Girl. She’s a widow, thanks to the Vietnam War, but it’s a well-kept secret. She also wants everyone to think she doesn’t care for rock music. She met Roger Taylor when he brought his date backstage. They didn’t start off great, but a party at Freddie’s turned them around. Now, they’re friends. A new opportunity has presented itself to her, but Roger is suspicious of the circumstances.

Word Count: 3.5K 

Tag List: @bohemian-war @kittygirlno @rebelrebelyourefaceisamess @rockyroadthepastryarchy @goodoldfashionedloverboyy @jennyggggrrr @discodeacygotmorerhythm @x1975sos @slytherinxval @cyndagoaway @doingalrightt @lovvliies @hopefully-aesthetically-pleasing  If you’d like to be added, let me know!

Part I   Part II   Part III   Part IV

A/N (Please read carefully!): Warning! This part has an attempted sexual assault. A couple things I promise for this: 1) It doesn’t last long, 2) I will be telling you exactly where it starts and stops so you can skip it if  you choose, and 3) It’s not just for shock value/drama, there’s a plot reason.  If you or someone you know has experienced sexual assault, don’t hesitate to reach out for help. You are not alone. RAINN Sexual Assault hotline: US & Canada: 1-888-407-4747 International:[phone] They also offer live chat :)

Part V! Here we go!

The next day, you carefully decided what to wear to the meeting with the director, whose name was Mark Hudson. You were actually a fan of his from seeing his production of The Music Man a few years ago back in New York. It was amazing and you were thrilled to see what he could do with a Rodgers and Hammerstein classic like Oklahoma. You decided on a dress, to look more demure like Laurie. It also hugged your body in the right places, which you liked for auditions and meetings so that directors could see your type.

As the afternoon closed in, you felt your nerves begin to flutter around in your stomach. It had been a while since you’d gone for a new role. Your New York agent had secured Fanny for you before you even got to London, so you were feeling a little unsure. You fidgeted with your hair once more, sweeping it into a bun before leaving your flat early so you would appear punctual.

Your agent told you to go straight to Mark’s room when you arrived. He was in 317, so you walked straight past the front desk and got the lift. You pressed the button for the third floor and waited for the doors to close, feeling your heart rate increase with excitement. You couldn’t believe you were on your way to get your dream role.

With a soft ding, the doors opened for you on the third floor. You made your way down the carpeted hallway, and held tighter to your purse with anticipation. Luckily, the room was toward the front of the corridor so you didn’t have to go far. With a deep breath to calm yourself down, you knocked gently on the door.

When it swung open, you were face to face with Mark. He was a handsome man - dark hair, light brown eyes, and a strong jaw. He clearly took care of himself as well. His biceps and pecs were threatening to tear the tight t-shirt he had on.

“Y/N!” he cried, clearly delighted and extending his hand. “It’s wonderful to meet you, kid! I’m a big fan!”

“Likewise, Mr. Hudson!” you returned, shaking his hand as he let you inside. “I’m so thrilled you thought of me for Oklahoma. I’ve wanted to be Laurie since I was six.”

He laughed, closing the door behind you. “I’m happy to give you the opportunity. Please, come in.”

You followed him further into the room. It was a standard hotel room, but large with a desk on one side toward the window. He poured himself a glass of brandy.

“Would you like one?” he offered.

You shook your head. “No, thank you. I’d rather get straight to business.”

“Very serious, I see,” he said, sounding impressed. “I like that. So, I’ve seen you in Funny Girl and your agent sent me the rest of your resume. You’ve definitely got the singing chops to be my Laurie. My only concern is your dance experience.”

He took a seat at the desk and motioned for you to sit across from him. You did.

“What about it?” you asked.

“Well, you’re not a ballerina,” he said. “And the show does have a ballet in the first act.”

“I’m familiar,” you said. “But trust me when I say, I am willing to work hard to learn. My ballroom training can help me, and I’ve done bits of ballet in other shows.”

“I believe you, kid,” he said. He grabbed a cigarette from the box on the desk and looked at you before lighting it. You noticed his eyes lingered a moment on your chest. “Do you mind?”

Used to Roger’s smoking habit, you said, “Not at all.”

After taking a long drag, he looked you up and down again. “You are beautiful, you know that?”

“Thank you,” you replied, looking at your lap as a blush spread across your cheeks.

He groaned. “Oh, I love the look of humility on a woman.”

You shifted uncomfortably in your chair. You didn’t know how to answer that.

“I’m gonna level with you, Y/N,” he said. “I wanna give you this part.”

You grinned. “Really?! Oh, Mr. Hudson, that’s great news!”

“Don’t get too excited,” he said. “There’s something I’d like you to do for me first.”

“You want me to keep it a secret that you didn’t have me audition?” you guessed.

“Actually,” he said, rising from his seat and moving to stand over you. He put his hand to your cheek and then slid it down to your neck. You wondered if he could feel your pulse quicken. “I had something else in mind.”

You had to play dumb. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

“I think you do,” he insisted, glancing between you and the bed.

You got to your feet, brushing his hand away. Anger roiled in your stomach at the audacity to suggest such a thing.

“Mr. Hudson,” you said. “There are some things I am unwilling to do for my career. I am a married woman, after all.”

“I know your husband is dead,” he said, and he took hold of your arm, squeezing. “You’re not married. And I know you’re not with Roger Taylor either.”

“Would it matter if I was?” you replied, trying to stall. His grip on you was like a chain and he was blocking your path to the door.

“Not even a little bit,” he whispered and then yanked you into him.

****HERE’S WHERE THE SEXUAL ASSAULT STARTS. SKIP TO THE NEXT SET OF STARS IF YOU DON’T WANT TO READ****

You held your lips closed as he tried to kiss you, struggling against his hold. You brought your hands to his face and started to shove him away. He stepped back, but he still had a hand around your arm.

“Let me go!” you demanded, attempting to pull it free, and trying to maintain your calm. You hoped your voice didn’t betray how scared you were. “Now!”

“As an actress, I thought you’d be better at taking direction!” on the last word, he brought back his free hand and slapped you hard across the face.

The sound cracked like a whip through the mostly empty hotel room and the force was enough to knock you off your feet. You were so stunned, you didn’t even know if you cried out. The skin around your eye was already throbbing. He let go of your arm as you hit the ground, only to shove his fingers into your hair, his nails scraping your scalp. Your hair fell around your face as it lost its style.

You whimpered as he pulled you up and tossed you - your body limp from shock - onto the bed. You tried to gather your thoughts, but you couldn’t focus. You cheek hurt, your scalp stung, and you didn’t know if you wanted to cry or yell.

Quickly, he crawled on top of you. Out of instinct alone, you brought your leg up to try and kick him off. He grabbed both your knees and sat on them, holding you down with his legs. You squirmed with your upper half to try and wriggle free, to no avail. As his hands came down toward the straps of your dress, you tried to slap them away.

“NO!” you screamed. “GET OFF OF ME!”

His hand seemed to snap in place around your throat, and all noise ceased as you now fought for breath. It made your head swim and your vision go blurry.

“Be quiet, or I’ll make you,” he warned through gritted teeth.

With that, he let you breathe as he grabbed the strap of your dress and ripped it. He pulled the neck line down to reveal your breast. You felt a pang of regret at not wearing a bra. He took hold of it and squeezed so hard you yelped in pain. You grabbed his arm to try and pull his hand away, but he was too strong. With his other hand, he mirrored his actions on your other breast. It was so painful you felt a tear leak out and roll down your cheek.

When he let go at last, you let out a breath of relief, but not for long. He sat back, took hold of the hem of your dress, and shoved it up your thighs. You shivered with the cold blast of air that hit your legs. He grinned, and then your eyes went wide as he started to unbuckle his belt. Something surged in you, and you brought back your right hand to swing it as hard as you could onto his left ear.

“Fuck!” he cried, and his legs let up just enough for you to get a foot out from under them, which you drove hard into his chest, forcing him off you at last.

****END OF SEXUAL ASSAULT****

When he fell to the side, you scrambled away as fast as you could and hurtled for the door. You didn’t turn to see if he pursued you as you tugged on the handle and fled down the hall. When you got to the stairwell, you thought enough to hold your dress over your exposed chest, but you did not stop running. Your lungs felt like they were on fire as you went. You tore through the lobby, ignoring all the stares and shouts of surprise from onlookers. You had to get to the studio.

When you rounded the corner to the street the recording studio was on, you slowed to a walk. Your chest heaved with your winded lungs. You felt heavy and like every part of you was sore. You could not process what just happened. Those sort of things happened to other people. You were supposed to be going to tell Roger you got the part. How were you going to tell Roger this? Shame crawled over your skin and you felt dirty all of a sudden.

More tears welled up in your eyes as you went through everything you were feeling. Shame, anger, regret, guilt, sadness. It was too much. You heart couldn’t take it. It was beating so hard you thought it was trying to escape from your rib cage. You wanted to go with it. To shed your skin and become a person who had never been touched by Mark Hudson. You wanted Roger, too, but you felt a little afraid to face him. He knew this would happen and you felt so stupid for not listening.

Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!

Even so, you continued on your way to the studio. You could see it now. The front door was your refuge. You looked over your shoulder finally, to be sure Mark wasn’t following you. To your great relief, he wasn’t. Swallowing through the tightness in your throat, you opened the door to the studio.

You had been before so you knew where to go. You walked down the hall, and to the door of the booth. When you opened it, you saw Mary there with Paul, Jim Beach, and John Reid.

“Christ,” she gasped. “Y/N, what’s happened to you?”

You opened your mouth to speak, but couldn’t form words. What had just happened to you? How could you even begin? You couldn’t. You let out a wail and fell into Mary’s arms. She held you tight, rubbing comforting circles on your back.

“Roger, you better get in here!” Reid called.

The whole band came in, and when they saw you, they shot questioning looks at Mary. She took hold of your shoulders and had you look up.

“Y/N, what’s going on?” she asked again.

Through your tears, you took in Roger’s familiar form, and you felt so awful. He looked at you with an confusion and worry.

“Roger,” you began, your bottom lip quivering. “Roger, I…” you didn’t finish, as you darted over to the nearest trash bin and vomited into it.

“Shit!” Roger hissed and knelt down beside you. From this angle, he could see the damage to your dress and the purple bruises blooming across your skin.

You couldn’t look at him. He reached out for you, but you recoiled.

“No, don’t touch me!”

He stopped, clearly hurt, and gave you some space. Then you watched him ball his hand into a fist as he jumped to his feet.

“I’m gonna kill him,” he said, and stormed toward the door.

“No, Rog, wait!” Brian urged, grabbing hold of Roger’s arm.

“Let go, I’m gonna murder that piece of shit!” Roger yelled. “Get the fuck off me, Brian!”

The idea of Roger leaving caused you to panic. You extended a trembling hand and grabbed a fistful of his shirt, tugging lightly. He turned to look at you and his face softened. Finally, you met his eyes. It was the first time since you’d known him you saw tears in them.

“Don’t leave me, Roger,” you begged. “Please don’t leave me.”

“Oh, my darling,” he sighed as he knelt down again. “Can I...can I hold you?”

You considered it. You desperately wanted his embrace but you felt so undeserving of it. If you had only listened to him!

“Please, Y/N,” he said again.

“I’m sorry,” you said, your voice thick with emotion. “I’m so sorry, Roger.”

“What the hell are you apologizing for?” he asked, as gently as he could.

“You knew this would happen,” you explained. “I was such an idiot. I should have listened to you. I’m so, so sorry.” You broke down again. “I don’t…I don’t deserve you.”

“I can’t even begin to tell you how wrong you are,” he replied, and he choked a little on the last word. “This isn’t your fault, Y/N, do you hear me? This is in no way your fault.”

You began to shiver. You couldn’t accept his words, either. All you could do was look at him and feel the whirlwind that swirled through your heart. You hardly even noticed when Brian generously draped his jacket over your shoulders, careful not to actually touch you.

“Roger,” Mary said. “She needs to be taken to hospital. That way they can report it to the  police.”

“No,” you said. “I don’t want to report it.”

“Y/N,” John said. “If he ra -”

“He didn’t,” you interrupted. “He just tried to.”

You thought this might make you all feel better, but it didn’t. You were still a shivering mess on the floor, wounded in ways far beyond the bruises.

“You should at least tell your agent,” Reid said. “If it were someone I was managing, I would want to know.”

“Would that be alright?” Roger asked you.

You nodded. After all, Stephen would be calling to find out how it went. You’d have to tell him something.

Freddie squatted down in front of you. “Can you put your arms through the sleeves, darling?” he asked. “I’ll zip you up.”

You gave him a frightened glace and he held his hands away from you.

“I won’t touch you, I promise.”

Holding the top of your dress, you slipped your arms into the jacket one at a time. You sat up a little and held it up again while Freddie reached out and deftly hooked the zipper and pulled it all the way up. You were certain you looked ridiculous, but that didn’t matter now.

“Mary, could you help her up?” he asked, backing away.

“Sure,” she said, and put her arm around your shoulders. “Come on, love. Up you get.”

With her help, you pushed yourself onto your feet. John took a step toward you.

“Hold out your hand, Y/N,” he said.

You did so, but Mary had to hold it still. He dropped a mint into your open palm.

“Thank you,” you whispered, bringing it to your mouth. The flavor helped you feel fresher and settled your still unruly stomach.

“Let’s go,” Roger said.

You and Mary followed him out the door, quiet as a funeral procession. When you got to the street, Roger looked in the direction of the hotel and his jaw clenched. Mary hailed a cab. You gave the driver the address of Stephen’s office. As he pulled into the traffic, you found yourself numb. What had been a storm of feelings had slowed to a flat lake. You wanted to sleep or get drunk. To be anything but what you were in this moment.

When you arrived at the office, you told the receptionist you needed to see Stephen right away. She paged him and then told you to go ahead inside. The three of you entered, he took in the sight of you, and he looked down.

“Oh, no,” he sighed. “Did he get carried away?”

Roger lost his shit. In seconds, he had taken Stephen by the collar and slammed him into the opposite wall. Mary gasped, and held you a little tighter.

“You knew?!” he shouted. “You fucking knew this would happen and you sent her over there anyway?!”

Stephen whimpered. “I - I didn’t know he would get violent!”

The flat lake stirred up as you matched Roger’s feelings.

“You - ” you started but caught yourself choking on the betrayal. “You knew he wanted me to fuck him for the part?”

Stephen couldn’t meet your eyes. “I thought you’d...many actresses do that sort of thing...and he needed…” he trailed off.

“No,” you said, unsure where this strength was coming from. “Finish that sentence.”

“He’s an old friend of mine,” Stephen said. “He said it had been a while for him and he wanted you.”

Roger punched Stephen in the face, sending your agent’s head back, spit and blood bursting from his mouth.

“SO YOU THOUGHT YOU’D JUST WHORE HER OUT SO YOUR MATE COULD GET OFF?!” Roger bellowed. “FUCK YOU!”

He punched Stephen three more times.

“Roger!” Mary interjected, before he could strike again. “That’s enough!”

He released Stephen, who slumped to the floor.

“You’re fired,” Roger said.

“With all due respect, Mr. Taylor,” Stephen returned, blood dribbling from his split lip. “You can’t - ”

“You’re fired,” you cut across him. You looked at Roger and Mary. “Take me home.”

Roger stormed out, you and Mary on his heels. You could hardly remember getting back to your flat, but you were so relieved when you did. Then you weren’t. George’s photo sent another wave of guilt over you. Mark’s words echoed in your mind: you’re not married...you’re not with Roger Taylor either...

You squeezed your eyes shut. Then, your heart wrenching, you removed your wedding band. You walked over to the mantle and placed it before George’s picture, inwardly sending him an apology. But you couldn't wear it. You weren’t George’s anymore. You weren’t Roger’s. You belonged only to yourself. Oddly, the thought made you feel better. More free. But also pretty lonely.

“Are you alright?” Roger asked.

“No,” you told him. “Nothing is alright.”

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” Mary said. “But I’ve got to get to work. Are you gonna be okay if I leave?”

You looked at Roger and held his gaze as you answered. “Yeah. I’m safe now.”  

She left. A heavy silence hung in the air. Roger took a step toward you before stopping himself. You moved slightly in his direction and he looked at you thoughtfully.

“I should change,” you said, and disappeared into your room.

You were still shaking as you peeled off Brian’s jacket, followed by your dress. You saw yourself in the mirror at last and took in the sight. You didn’t even look like you. Especially since you’d never had a black eye before. No one had ever hit you before. None of this had ever happened to you before. You thought you might break down again, but you held it together as you grabbed some sweats and a tank top from your drawer. When you were finished, you padded back out to Roger, who had taken a seat on the couch. His leg was bouncing and his hands were in fists again. His knuckles were purple from hitting Stephen, and there was a light spatter of blood on the end of his sleeve.

“Roger,” you said, and he stood up immediately. You held out the jacket. “I’ll let you bring this back to Brian.”

He took it and then looked back at you. “You want me to go?”

You shook your head. “No. I don’t ever want you to leave.”

Now the emotions were coming again. When would this back and forth ever end? You could see he was itching to comfort you somehow. To wipe the tear from your cheek, or hug you, or anything to ease the pain. He tossed the jacket onto the couch.

“What can I do?” he asked.

“Hold me, please,” you said in a voice so small you were surprised he heard you.

You were ready for his touch at last. You could still feel Mark’s hands on your skin, and you wanted Roger’s arms to take it away. He obliged, and wrapped them around you. Your buried your face in his chest and sobbed. You absurdly noticed how nice he smelled. It was something uniquely Roger and it brought you such a sense of peace. You never wanted to move from this place for the rest of your life.

#queen #roger taylor x reader #ben hardy x reader #roger taylor x you #ben!roger x reader #ben hardy #ben!roger taylor #ben!roger imagine #roger taylor #queen imagine #roger taylor imagine #freddie mercury #rami malek #brian may #gwilym lee #john deacon #joe mazzello #queen fanfic #my man series

[reddogf13]

Escape: To Salvation Ch: 16

Blake X Val

Summery: Blake wakes up in the hell town known as Templegate. confused and alone he must fight through both his past and present for his future. however, hallucinations of festering demons haunt him along with something else more of mortal blood. now he must fight to keep his nightmares and reality separate or succumb to the deadly wilds. however is he truly as alone as he feels in this world?  

status: complete

rated: M - fowl language, sensitive topics, and gore

previous chap: Escape: To Salvation CH:15

next chap: Escape: To Salvation CH:17

_____________________________________

~Ch:16 Deliverance~

“WHAT?!” Blake exclaimed, having it echo back he was so loud. almost choking on his own spit he was halfway through swallowing. “what did you say?!” he shouted out of shock. “i love you.” she repeated, turning to face him. Keeping a calm expression about her. “don't say that! Don't you dare say that!” he yelled with anger building deep inside. “I can't ignore it.” she spoke of the matter casually. “what, why, when?? when did this thought come up?!” Blake blurted out his questions in a scrambled form of thought. His mind racing at the shock of the matter. “ I first felt something when you became sick. It grew from there despite not wanting it to. I only accepted it last night.” she explained. “ well fuckin gee, isint that great for you?!” Blake exclaimed in anger. “you shouldn't - I didn't - “ he started differently each time. His own mind stopping his words. He really didn't want to know, but did for possible safety over his well being. Same reason why he'd rather she never told him this, but did. “I'm sorry.” she apologized with a breath of air. “you're sorry?! Fuck off your sorry!” he shouted. “are you also sorry for everything you put me through?! Kidnapping my girlfriend to do who knows what?! After you strangled her unconscious! Then, when I come, you have me almost killed by your “loves”. Chased me through tunnel after tunnel with corpses! The mud, the water, remember that whole fucking thing?! Then the end with more of that fucking powder! I sure fucking do, every painful moment of it!” he roared with tears building up. “next you're going to tell me, that forcing yourself on me was showing your love too, right?! I sure as hell didn't love it! I should fucking leave, this whole thing was a mistake! I could have been just as fine on my damn own!” he continued. Wiping away all of his tears at the end. Taking deep breaths to get his asthma under control after all that yelling. Val was silent as she watched Blake. Honestly not wanting to interrupt his angered yelling at her. She looked to the floor for a moment in thought on what to say. “i thought you'd be happy. … with it all.” she said quietly. “you thought I'd be happy?! Happy from what?! That you forced me into an orgy after almost killing me?! What part of any of that sounded good?!” he shouted again toward her. Eyes remaining watery as he held more tears. Val paused again for a moment. “ … I don't know.” she spoke, honesty coming through in her voice. “you don't know?! How could you possibly not know?! Is it because you ignored it all?!” he snapped. “no ...” she spoke again. “what exactly don't you know then?!” he snapped again. “ … a lot of things.” she answered. After getting a confused look from Blake she tried to explain better. “ I … remember doing those things … but I didn't like how far it went. Some things I liked, while other things I don't understand why I liked them so much. … it felt like I was someplace else while it all happened. I wanted it all to stop deep down, but it kept getting worse. Pain that was closely followed by burning lust. Horrific dreams that haunted my sleep. Finding myself deep in the mines without most my memory's when I went out. Its like I was slowly being buried underneath it all. Over time it got harder to see what was going on. Trying to tell what was a dream or real. Some parts twist every time I try remembering or smear into a blur. The few parts I do remember was after things would calm. Before the horns and the lights blinded everyone again. I felt relief when the darkness came. … then I woke up.” she explained to him. “i panicked at the thought of what I was going to do. I just laid there ... near a pile of rocks with crushed bodies underneath. Thinking any moment it would all go away again, but it didn't. ... Eventually I got up, finally feeling like I was in my body after so long.” she ended. Swallowing at the end with difficulty. Blake remembered his times going through the “school” following Jessica. How many times he felt yanked from his body. Falling back into it with no idea where or how he got someplace. It was an unnerving experience for anyone to feel. “when did you start to feel disconnected?” he asked. “ … when my kids ...” she swallowed. having some obvious trouble answering. “ … please don't leave.” she begged softly. Blake swallowed nervously at what she said. Thoughts rushing through his paranoid mind. Is she telling the truth? How would this journey work out now? Should he stay? He took a deep nervous breath. ... “no.” he breathed. Val looked away with a painful swallow. His answer was clear, he was leaving like he said. The two standing without anymore words for each other. Blake looked to the ground for a moment to gather his voice. “i can give you half the smoked meat … before I go.” he offered. Not wanting to just abandon her with nothing after dragging her so far along. “no, you'll need it more in the canyon. I can catch more deep in the mountain forests.” she refused with a shake of her head. “ … bye.” he said, ending it all with that final word. He left with the jacket hung around a shoulder, the gun slung over the other. Letting out a few deep calming breaths when wiping away the building tears in his eyes. Far away from where they separated Blake was trying his hardest to get over the situation. Kicking rocks angrily into the water. Picking up a few heavy rocks with both hands to chuck far away into the brush. “god why does it have to be this way?!” he growled in his head. “can't anything go fucking good for me?!” he angrily mumbled. “WHY DID YOU LET ALL THIS HAPPEN?! DO YOU HATE HUMANITY SO MUCH?! DO YOU HATE ME?! WHAT HAVE I DONE?!” he roared at the sky to a god he didn't expect to answer. “deliverance, what a fucking joke!” he said to the sky. “i bet after all that walking in the desert only to be rejected at the doorstep of salvation. had many wanting Moses to be eaten by crocodiles.” he thought bitterly, not caring if he upset any god up above. “the only thing i'm late for is a bed at a warm hotel with a burger.” he grumbled, kicking more rocks into the river, away from his path. Feeling the burning fire of anger slowly die inside of him. “i've made my choice. I am happy with it.” he told himself. A knot forming in his stomach the further he stepped. “then why am I not happy?” he mumbled. “just a fact of life I have to get used to.” he thought bitterly again. His thoughts dyeing as he focused on the crunching gravel below his feet. Looking toward the growing orange sky as the sun slowly rose over the mountainous terrain. Lighting the tops of trees to resemble a shifting fire across the land. His eyes shooting across the land of something glinting on the horizon. That horrible chopping noise of blades flying on the wind. The large black helicopter appearing from the blinding orange sky. The helicopter heading his way forcing Blake to start running. Remembering the last time he got away from the copter was to bury himself into the cold. Dropping his water sensitive things, he leapt into the morning cold water of the river. Completely submerging himself for a few minutes. Hearing the chopper hovering close above. It stayed around for only a moment before flying off down the river. Blake coming out of the water for a gasp of air. letting out a sigh of relief at the sight. A sudden nervous thought jumped into his mind. The helicopter was heading off in the direction of Val. He swam back to shore, making a sprint to follow it. Blake breaking out in a run as he saw how far off the helicopter was getting ahead. Attempting to run even faster when he heard the sound of a machine gun roaring up to speed. Blakes wheezing forcing him to slow against his will. Only able to watch the helicopter disappear from view past the tree tops. He wheezed as his body threatened to collapse a lung. The sounds of the helicopter going quiet bringing up some hope that it had flown past to the canyon. He hurried through the trees, not noticing one important detail in his hurry. A large fist coming out to slam into Blakes face. Knocking him back to the ground in pain. Getting roughly yanked back up. Feeling the jacket and gun yanked off of him along with the bag of food, medical supplies, and knoths journal. Before he could get out a word of protest he was punched in the gut. Shoved to the ground again to be kicked in the ribs. Having his already terrible breathing grow worse. Again being yanked up to his feet to be shoved forward. Surrounded by a heavily armed group of men. “quit dragging your feet and move!” wicker shouted down before shoving Blake into the open. The man adjusting his loose jaw with one hand. Throwing Blake against another wall of heavily armed men. They quickly got a hold of Blake with a firm painful grip. Feeling another painful punch to the gut when he tried struggling free. All Blake could do was flinch or curl into himself in an attempt to protect his body. Fearfully shaking as he wondered what was going to happen. He stayed frozen to just regain some of himself. Figuring out what was really broken after all the hits thrown. Watching blood drip from his face to puddle at the dirt floor. “pretty stupid of you two. That whole canyon was a easy funnel set up. Only two exits we had to wait around. Easy catch.” wicker mocked with a crooked grin. Shifting his jaw back and forth as his grin dropped into an annoyed frown. Looking off toward a group of men nearby surrounding Val. All of them making some sort of mocking joke. Some of them being highly sexual. “come on girly can't you smile at all?” one of them teased as Val gave him a cold glare. Standing confidently tall despite her position. Slowly leaning back as the man went to touch her face. “just give us a smile and we won't-” the man spoke with a smile before regrettably touching Vals bottom jaw. In a flash with a loud snap he was screaming in pain with Vals jaws covered in blood. The man's hand pouring blood all over the dirt as he fell down in agony. Val turning her head to spit out two fingers and a mouth full of collected blood. The two appendages going far enough to go off the cliff edge, never to be found for reattachment. “she fucking bit me!!” the soldier yelled in pain. “what did you expect you moron. Don't mess with it. That's the genetic freak 2nd red marker.” wicker growled with gritted teeth. The other men who swarmed immediately losing interest after the information. “can't have you messing anymore shit up during transport.” he frowned as he approached Val with a knife. “hey!” Blake shouted, yanking forward to try stopping whatever he was about to do. Quickly shutting down with a punch to the head. Vals body tensing for whatever wicker was going to do. Collapsing when he stabbed into her stitched side. Shredding up while being sure to cut every stitch Blake worked so hard to make. “it's all over. Get it onto the helicopter so we can move. Let it bleed out, doesn't matter if it lives.” wicker commanded as he waved off the soldiers restraining Val. Yanking her along as blood pooled from her side. “don't.” Blake spoke out barely above a whisper as his head stopped spinning after the punch. “release him, I want him to regret hitting me earlier. Let his name go down as an example over that traitor employee from mount massive.” wicker spoke with a shift of his jaw. Blake being shoved out to the middle of a fighting ring of guards to challenge wicker. Landing painfully into the bloody dirt. “get up!!” wicker snapped, coming for Blake who had nowhere to go. When he refused to move wicker yanked him up by his shirt. Only to beat him back down into the dirt. Guards cheering and hollering as Blake was beat down without a punch coming from him. After what seemed like forever Blake panicked at this being his final moments. Wheezing breaths coming out over the heavy taste of blood. His body wracked with pain he was sure so many things were broken. If he was going to die he could at least get one satisfaction out of it. Yanked to his feet once again by a grinning wicker having fun. Before he could get another satisfying punch on Blake, he got a hard punch instead. A snapping noise sounding off as wickers mask was broken. Falling to the dirt in pieces. The cheering soldiers going deathly quiet. Wicker shooting dagger eyes at Blake when he felt his mask missing. A massively scared half of his face revealed. Wires with drilled in pinned rods following his broken jaw. Long gouges going up his face to the top of his head. Large chunks of flesh missing from his face from what looked like bite marks with layered claw marks. It stunned Blake as he stared, barely flinching in time as he was punched in the face. Staggering back, yet somehow keeping on his feet. Feeling something wrong when his heel did not connect to any land. He had no time to look as he flinched at wicker grabbing a gun. Preparing to be shot, but instead getting knocked back with the butt of the heavy rifle. Feeling himself fall back further and further than normally. Just seeing the cliff edge being outlined by wicker and his guard watching him fall. Blake seeing them for a moment of time that seemed slowed down. Seeing darkness close in on his eyesight as wicker and his men disappeared. Blacking out fully before he felt the pain of hitting the bottom.

“is he dead?” the soldier holding his bitten arm asked. “i didn't see him hit the bottom. You'll be going to make sure he is.” wicker cracked his jaw. “what?!” the soldier exclaimed. “bring back his body. Finish him if he's not cold already.” wicker spoke coldly. “but I need a doctor!!” the injured man exclaimed. “medical here!!” wicker shouted over his men. A soldier bearing a med patch coming forward with a box of first aid from the copter. “fix him. And 5 of you go with those two.” wicker commanded. “what about your mask sir.” the medic barely got out. “what about it?!” wicker snapped with hate filled eyes. Glaring the doctor into backing away in fear. “n-nothing sir!” the doctor stuttered as he quickly went to fix the soldiers hand. The two with a small group of volunteers heading off on foot with the helicopter going off with Val.

Blake woke with a massive feeling of pain. Opening his eyes to darkness surrounding him. The dark slowly edging away to reveal walls of bodies surrounded by pulsing flesh. “where am I? What the hell happened?” Blake thought as he rubbed a headache away. Slowly remembering events in flashes. Leaving Val, nightmare helicopter, blood, fighting, and blackout. “dammit, where's the helicopter?! Wheres Val?! All the way back at the lab by Templegate?!” his mind raced as he got to his feet. Heart sinking at the thought of traveling the entire way back. It would be impossible and far too late to save Val. “oh fuck.” Blake mumbled to himself at seeing the staring bodies. “why, why am I here?! I can't be here?! I don't have time for this!!” he thought, looking down the narrow organic halls forward and behind him. “got to find an exit!” he mumbled, running off down a hall without a thought. Looking for any sort of door down the multiple halls. Growing tired from pain at wheezing for air. He had to stop against his will to continue forward. Examining the walls for any hint at an exit. Finding nothing in the bloody vain showing skin that twitched in waves. He held his breath at the sight of a darkness pooling into the flesh. His heart speeding at the sight of a tall horrifying shadow approaching. “help me with this mess or you'll be sent away.” the corrupted voice threatened. “pray for your sins enemy of god!” knoths distorted voice shouted. “god loves you.” Marta voice claimed as it approached with mouths drooling thick blood. “get away from me!!” Blake shouted at the beast in fear. Bolting off down the hall to get away from it. Running blindly down dark tunnels that only allowed him to see 5 feet in front of him. The monster walking so effortlessly behind him. Blake ran through a double metal door before he could even realize what it was. He froze at the new surrounding. Recognizing immediately where he was. “my house.” he wheezed out. But it wasn't the house he lived in adulthood. A small squeak having his shaky body flinch. His head whipping over to the noise. Staring with a unnatural feeling of being out of body at the sight of himself, only as a young boy. Watching his younger self play with a toy truck with squeaky wheels. Panicking at the sight of darkness seeping through the cracks in the doors he just entered. Blood oozing out thickly at the bottom of them. He held his body against the door as he knew it was getting closer. Hearing its suffocating gurgling from the other side. followed by more blood pooling under Blakes feet at the doorways foundation. Struggling to keep the doors shut as they were banged on repeatedly. Blake shouted and cried to his younger self. Trying to get him to run or leave. In the end he had gotten no reaction from the boy playing. Crying as he had to leave or be caught by the monster breaking the door down. “what about-?! What do I do?!” he thought, looking to his younger self. Scared back from the door as a wired limb stabbed through the thick wood. Forcing Blake to abandon the house through the back door. Feeling the need to vomit as he heard his younger self scream out in pain. along with the sound of meat being torn apart. He looked back seeing a splatter of blood coat the double glass door he escaped from. Nothing left for him at the house he ran out into the heavy fog covered street. Shaking fearfully as he hurried through to get as far away as possible from the beasts footsteps. Running up to the neighbors doors banging for help. Getting no answer and unable to see through the pitch black windows. After trying a couple more houses he skipped the rest to just runaway down the street. Feeling like he ran for ages against his asthma. Stopping when he spotted the playground he and lynn always met at. “hi Blake! … whats wrong?” lynn greeted him from atop the large jungle gym. Her happy tone shifting to concern at the sight of him. “lynn?! … run!! get away from here!!” he shouted through desperate wheezing with large pained eyes. “... did you run away?” she asked. Unable to recognize Blakes desperate situation. Asking him the same question when they first met at the playground like a recording. Blake looking back with a sinking heart as he heard the deep gurgling breaths of the monster approaching. Razor jagged teeth with glowing bright eyes shining against its dark silhouette. “RUN AWAY!!” he shouted again desperately. Repeating over and over despite her expression not understanding him. “you can't run away you know. … I know its hard for you, but don't let this eat your life away.” she spoke, looking down to him. The sentence coming off as strange. The first half he remembered, but it went on instead of stopping. He stood there in stunned silence before spotting it from the corner of his eye. He had to run again. Forcing himself to leave the young lynn behind just like he did to himself. Getting sick at the repeating child screams of pain along with shredding meat. He stopped in a alley a few blocks down from the park. Leaning against a brick wall to wheeze in some air. Breathing through his sickness as to not vomit. “what am I doing? Why am I running? ... I couldn't save Jessica or lynn. … how can I save myself?” he thought pessimistically, staring down at the bottom of the wall. “maybe I should just … wait here.” he thought, growing tired of running. “it's already taken so much … all that's left is me.” he closed his eyes for a brief moment. “there's still Val.” the voice deep in his mind reminded him. Opening his eyes to see the alley way crumbled to the pulsating walls of bloody meat. The hanging watchers returning to stare him down. Blakes depression turning to anger at their presence. “what do you want?!” he roared up at them. “you've taken everything else! My friends, my childhood, my parents. What else could you possibly want?!” he cried up at them. The pain of everything washing over him. “it's all your fault.” the distorted voice spoke. Blake choking up at the mutated beasts appearance. Feeling his body uncontrollably shiver from rushing adrenaline. “liar, sinner, murderer.” knoths voice accused him as it stepped closer. “no use hiding.” the man's voice mocked. All the fear in Blake being washed over by pain fueled hatred. “i didn't do it!” he snapped at the creature. Having it laugh at his attempt at releasing anger. Having Blakes anger only grow more from all the mocking. “i didn't kill Jessica, you did!” he snapped, pointing an accusing hand at the towering creature. The monsters laughing stopped with a snapping of its jaws. “you kept the sin a secret you father of lies.” the beat gurgled out with a growl. “you lied!” Blake shouted at it. The beast going quiet with another snap of its jaws. The multiple staring hangers shifting there watching gaze onto the beast. The shifting gaze having the beast step back with a long drawn out hiss like a snake. “you forced me to do it all! I didn't hang her! I didn't chase her till she broke her neck down the stairs. It was all you!” Blake continued a little more confidently. Trying to get as much out while he had the chance. The beast roared with both jaws opening wide to see every last rotten tooth. “you couldn't save them. You failed and it's all your fault. Why didn't you do something?!” the beast accusingly mocked him again with a hiss. “i didn't runaway. I tried to help unlike you! YOU COWARD!” Blake screamed. Startled when the monster let out a painful screech as its skin cracked with a burst of flame sprouting. Blake watched the creature writhe around as the fire spread over its body. Limbs turning black till they crumbled to the floor in a pile of ash. It stopped twisting to focus on Blake, heading for him in a charging form of bloody fire. Blake turned into a run with the burning monster right at his heels. It wasn't long when Blake slowed to almost a stop as the creatures body melted away behind him. He stopped to watch the beast slow. Limbs falling off as it continued walking toward him. Its breath sounding suffocating for it. Its once high posture now crippling itself with the loss of many legs. The twisted wolfs head crumbling off to dust. “all this time you've been eating my life away. You cant anymore.” Blake told it. The beast momentarily sinking its body down with its bottom jaw falling off with a snap of skin. It let out one more angry gurgling hiss standing up straight again. It lunged forward with its remaining arms to grab him. Blake jumping back to avoid it, falling to the floor. Watching as the creature was stopped by multiple rotting hands grabbing its body from the organic blood floor. Dragging it slowly down into a pool of forming blood. Blake stood up from the floor to calmly watch the creature be dragged down to drown. Letting out a sigh of relief. feeling himself suddenly free of a burden on his shoulders that he was never aware of till now. He looked around with no clue where to head now. The walls of flesh now turning to cold dark stone. All the watchers disappearing after the beast burst into flames. He walked down the tunnel for a few steps. Seeing a blue light appearing at its end. He stopped at the tunnels end where it grew into a massive room of stone. Looking at a large assembly of watchers staring toward him with a greater one at the middle. At a first glance it looked like one of those praying angel statues. Upon closer inspection someone would see past is fake holy posture. Two massive wings make up of a thousand arms, each clawing into one another to hold everything up. A horned skull of some horse looking off to the side bearing no eyes but dark empty sockets. a spiked column of spinal boned neck leading down to connect at its shoulders. A thin bony body draped in shredded dark cloth. 4 arms brought together against its chest as if praying. All the watchers surrounding the large twisted angel staring down at Blake. Beginning to whisper to each other over him. The treatment becoming annoying to Blake as he still couldn't tell what exactly they were whispering about him. “some believe god and Satan are the same. Why cant angels and demons be just the same?” he thought, feeling nothing negative from the large entity. Despite its towering emaciated appearance of both animal to human parts. The whispering growing loud enough it was causing Blake a headache. “what now?!” he shouted at them all. The whispering stopping with the large twisted angel forming a red glow where its eyes should be. It shifted its massive towering form with crackling being heard. Sounding like it had waited an eternity for that question to be asked. Slowly shifting its head to look further off to Blakes right. Taking away two arms from one side of its praying position to slowly point down toward a tunnel. Blake looked to it, seeing a pure white light appear from it. He cautiously walked over to it. Keeping an eye on the watchers with there twisted angel as he had to pass by. Now walking down this bright white light lit tunnel. The cold stone going smooth like cut marble. Tensing when he saw two shadows approach. They were both too small to be adults. “hi Blake! Nice to see you again!” Jessica smiled at him. “too bad for the circumstance.” lynn half mumbled to the other. He swallowed back some tears at seeing the two. Unable to stop the rest of them from flowing out. He couldn't find any words in his mouth. “no “hi” after all these years?” Jessica teased him, getting a small shove from lynn. “don't tease him!” lynn giggled. “why not? i haven't been able to do it in years! You know i am only joking.” Jessica spoke to lynn, looking to Blake with a smile. Getting a shaky smile from Blake as he wiped away the tears with a happy nod. “hey ...” he shakily got out. Fighting back the tears so he could actually talk to them. “am I - ...” was the only thing he could get out. Wiping away more tears. “no.” Jessica shook her head. “you have a lot of things to do.” lynn told him. “you have to help someone else now.” Jessica added. “but … im sorry.” he barely got out. Referring to his failure to save the both of them. “ you tried, you went farther than anybody else ever would. We know you're not superman, but you sure act like him.” lynn spoke with confidence in him. “that's why you have to go, because no one else will go so far to help.” Jessica smiled. “you have to go help her. i wont be mad just be happy, for me, when you do. Okay?” lynn smiled to him. Getting a teary eyed nod from Blake. “good, now go kick some ass.” Jessica grinned. “I cant believe you said that.” lynn snickered. “i was never allowed to. Now I can.” Jessica smiled triumphantly. “now you say it.” she dared lynn with a small push. “no!” lynn refused. “yes! You got to say it more than me it should be easy!” Jessica challenged again. “ugh, … go kick some ass.” lynn mumbled in embarrassment, bringing up a fist arm of rooting. Getting a happy chuckle out of Blake. “... time for you to go.” Jessica informed, having Blake lose his smile. “don't worry, we'll see each other some day. When we do you gotta admit to lynn I won the tackle game.” she teased him, getting another smile out of him. “you nerd.” he jokingly called her. Wiping away the final amount of tears he had. “nerd.” Jessica jokingly called him back. Blakes smile dropping as the brightly lit area faded away with lynn and Jessica getting farther and farther away. “goodbye Blake.” they both said with a wave goodbye. “bye.” he shouted back while he could before watching them disappear. Darkness surrounding him in a void. He woke up with his eyes blinded by sunlight beaming down. painfully looking away with a pop from his stiff neck. Looking up again to see the cliff edge from where he fell. It wasn't too far up possibly being about 15 - 20 feet. “dammit, your still alive.” Blake heard someone growl. “get up!” the man commanded. Blake looking over to see the soldier with a wrapped bloody hand. Recognizing him as the one with his fingers bitten off. Seeing no other choice at the moment he slowly rose up. His body wracked with pain forcing him to go slow. When moving his hand he stopped at the feeling of something rough shifting over his open palm. Looking out of the corner of his eye he saw a stick shaped thing covered with a noticeable pattern of black diamonds.

#outlast 2 #blake langermann #val outlast