#gotta love a good pen horse every now and then

[kraftykelpie]

Horse :)

#gotta love a good pen horse every now and then #kraftykelpie's art #illustration #my art #horses #equine art #ballpoint pen art #horse art #for i am more than what the legends say of me (art tag)

[chrollohearttags]

containment • e. jaeger

synopsis: you’re the newest female guard at an all male prison. No one said it’d be easy but you were prepared for anything..except the new inmate on your cell block.

themes: forbidden romance/relationship, prisoner eren, modern au, correctional officer reader (black and fem coded) power play, lots of fantasizing and masturbation, consensual sex, he’s also a heavy switch and minors do not and i cannot stress this e-fucking-nough..interact!

cw:3.5K

📝: I’m up at 3am, letting my insane thoughts win again so please don’t hold this against me if it’s too long or just wild in general but this is just some notes/imagines to what will be a full, multi-part fic eventually, just wanted to mainly focus on the spicy stuff for now.

you were one of the only three female guards to ever work at the state’s all male maximum security prison. A facility notorious for housing some of the county’s most terrifying criminals..naturally, it was said to be no place for a woman and you were subjected to harassment, heckling and sometimes violence but you didn’t allow it to stop your goals. As physically strong as you were stubborn, you didn’t fear them in the slightest.

it was only six months after your assignment to the close containment unit that he was put onto your floor and things began to shift..an inmate by the name of eren jaeger; he was most certainly different from the other convicts you made contact with on a daily basis…

never gives you a hard time, always complied and is always in his cell either drawing or reading. If they didn’t give him time off for good behavior, you didn’t know who would get it. Also was super intelligent.

sort of intimidated the other guards and prisoners because of his eerie silence. They didn’t know why he’d been on a floor like this but act so well behaved. no one ever got on his bad side though..they knew better because he’d remind them why he was locked up in the first place.

has a slick ass mouth and every time you asked what he was there for, his response was “whatever they say I did.”

you didn’t make it your mission to be chummy with the prisoners, but he made the job a bit more tolerable. “good morning, officer (l/n)..” it was how he always greeted you..in addition to a little faint smile and telling you how pretty you were that day, whether barefaced or with some light makeup on and oddly enough, he always knew the scent of your perfume. “I can compliment my favorite guard, can’t I? Is that allowed?” the sarcasm and sweet gestures were something you had grown accustomed to. “You’re as cute as you are dangerous, Jaeger. Too bad for you, they don’t reduce sentences for adorable one liners.” although those words should have meant nothing come from a criminal…

it’s one day, however..when you were seeing him off to library cleanup duty that it went from harmless flirtation to a heated, forbidden love affair. “Not to be gross or anything but I gotta go take a piss, officer. I’ve been holding it since we left the cell.” he had been working diligently without a break for two hours so you’d allow it.

never had to worry about him trying anything as he had seen you take down men twice his size by yourself and even had subdued him once after a fight was incited by somebody else but he didn’t back down. (an ass whooping from you he’d soon never forget).

during that little bathroom break, you accidentally caught a glimpse of what he was working with…down south! You’d try to look away but really couldn’t help yourself. The man was hung like a horse. As a guard, you were to remain professional so the thoughts had to subside.

it was all but inevitable when you’d take him to the rec yard for exercise and you’d watch him do curl ups on the metal bars. His entire muscular back and arms riddled in tattoos; some professional pieces and others by the tip of an ink pen etched in prison. It’d be a huge violation if you’d ever acted on them and to you, that’s what made the fantasy all the more hotter.

on the trip back to finish up his last bit of library work, he utters something to you that made you freeze… “I know you were watching me earlier, officer..in the bathroom. I could feel those pretty little eyes of yours staring. Such a pervert.” Muttering sarcastically because his nasty ass loved the thought! To which you’d call his bluff and ask him so what if you were and he’d double down on it. “Then next time I’ll let you come help.” He always had a witty, smart mouthed comeback for everything.

it was getting harder to deny the sexual tension that was brewing though and as it were only the two of you left, the banter would become more and more risqué. Completely inappropriate and wrong but it felt so right..

“Can I get a good night kiss?” asks it every night when you take him back to his cell, to which you’d only ignore and instead, shove a stick of gum between his lips as a reward for his hard work..it was as close it were going to get for now.

it was when you got home that those disgusting desires could run rampant. In the solitude of your shower or bedroom, you were free to fantasize about this man and all of the things you wanted him to do you. Touching yourself, wishing it were him…a filthy criminal. From pinning your legs back and pumping you full of dick. Slapping, choking and tugging on your hair. Riding his pretty little face as you came all over his tongue. unbeknownst, he felt the same.

truthfully, it couldn’t be helped..watching the plump curvature of your ass sway in those black uniform cargos and your big supple tits tightly stuffed into that grey polo with the prison’s insignia on the left breast pocket every day drove him crazy. Those plump, juicy lips always covered in gloss that he wouldn’t mind shoving his cock between. Holding your head still while he throat fucks you into oblivion. And he just knew that pussy was fat with a mean grip. Many of nights had he lied in this cell, quietly stroking himself to the thought of his favorite guard bouncing on his dick, riding him before he’d take over and fuck up into you..smacking that round ass as he covers it in baby oil.

hearing you cry out his name..telling him how big it is as he forces all nine of those thick inches in you until it fits..just a few of the dozens of scenarios he’d play in his dirty, perverted mind. It had been years since he’d felt the touch of a woman so it was hard to restrain himself. He’d end up biting his sheets a way to gag his moans as his enclosed fist pumped until he’d splatter a giant nut all over his knuckles. Luckily he was alone in here.

when you returned to work a couple days later, that steamy tension had reached its boiling point and during day duty, you couldn’t take anymore. You needed him now! Favor was in your corner because he happened to be caught with cigarettes he smuggled from another inmate, which would have been a big infraction.

but instead, you snuck him off to a nearby closet where he’d become your personal fuck toy for the afternoon in exchange for your silence. It was his own damn fault..violating the rules and looking so damn good all the time. And he didn’t hesitate!

“You can keep a secret, can’t you, officer? I promise I won’t tell if you won’t.” taunting as he forced you back on his thick cock with his shackled hands. He’s made you squirt more times than any man ever has and it had been so long since he’d been in some pussy and especially one this tight so you had to keep him quiet because he was losing his shit. Didn’t hold it against him when he came too quick and..inside of you because you had been waiting a long time for it.

now, it’s become a regular occurrence. You can’t leave him alone and vice versa. Makes sure that no one else give you a hard time ever again and would handle it personally if they did. Guards included..in return you make sure he gets a little more on his commissary or drops him in a few cigarettes or snacks when it’s permitted. Even letting him get extra time outside, just so you could have him to yourself.

Can’t exactly communicate via cell phones so he writes you love letters that he hides in areas around the prisons for you to read when you get home. Full of filthy detail of how he’d be fucking you if he were a free man, how much he adores you and of course, all the trouble the two of you will get into the next time his beloved CO comes into work.

#black fem reader #black fanfic writer #smut fanfiction #black fanfiction #black reader smut #aot x black reader #eren imagines #eren fanfiction #eren jaeger x black reader #eren jaeger imagines #aot eren #prison au #black reader #shingeki no kyoujin fanfiction #eren jaeger smut #eren smut #eren x black reader #aot boys #attack on titan smut #aot x y/n #attack on titan #anime smut

[tieronecrush]

exile

joel miller x reader

rating: M

word count: 3.1k

summary:

i think i've seen this film before / and i didn't like the ending / i'm not your problem anymore / so who am i offending now? / you were my crown / now i'm in exile, seein' you out / i think I've seen this film before / so i'm leavin' out the side door

warnings: break up, discussion about closure or lack there of, talk about grief, death, self-doubt, self-deprecation, idk man it’s just sad

a/n: second fic for the folklore anthology!! hope you all enjoy, sorry for the sadness lol <3

It’s an early start — the crisp early spring air swirls around in gusts while the fresh blanket of dew squishes under his boots as he walks over to the stables. Lilac skies watercolor above, the last of the winter dawn painting yellowed strokes across the horizon as the sun rises, reflecting against the thirst-quenched earth.

Billows of his tepid breath puff in front of him, walking through the warmth of each exhale as he makes his way forward and across the paddock to the stalls. Rubber soles scuff onto rough concrete under the cover of the roof, neighs of horses and huffs of their breath vibrating their lips the only sound that fills his ears when he looks down the aisle to see you. Standing in the pen that holds Shimmer, Ellie’s beloved mare, you brush her chestnut coat as you prep to saddle each animal for the incoming patrol shift.

Joel meanders down the walkway over to the stable across from you that holds his own horse, Old Beardy, which he bonded with over lengthy patrol shifts. After the horse that Tommy had loaned them to reach Colorado, Callus, was killed by David and his men, Joel had chosen a similarly colored one in Old Beardy. It was another painful reminder he forced upon himself of what he had gone through — what Ellie had gone through — and what he did to get her through it. He never wanted to forget, not that he thought he ever could, and this was a small piece that added up to keep him weighed down by his choices and guilt every day.

It was that same guilt that burrows into his chest now as he looks at you while he saddles his horse. Nothing is spoken, not even a glance sent his way; completely ignored, the cold shoulder chilling him more than the early morning temperature. 

You had left him a few weeks ago now — completely blindsided him when you sat him down in his living room and broke another crack into his heart. At that point, he didn’t think it was possible to feel any more fragmented than he did for the last twenty years, but you quickly became another piece of his heart destroyed by his actions. It had to have been something he did, what it was he doesn’t have a clue. But with the way you cared for him, loved him for that fleeting time, he would have never chosen to give that up and he couldn’t see a reason why you would either.

He had to know.

It was keeping him up at night — that and his nightmares that seem to have never ceased. Around here, he doesn’t have his knockout combination of pills and alcohol to keep his ghosts at bay, so he’s faced with them every evening, creeping in along with the midnight.

You would help him, talk him through, remind him of the good in him, even though he never fully believed you.

He misses you.

He loves you.

Crossing the aisle again after slipping out of the stable of his horse, he takes a breath before leaning his arms onto the walled gate that separates the two of you. Breaking the fragile silence that floated in the air for the last few minutes, Joel speaks lowly despite you two being the only ones around.

“Morning.”

Silence.

“Need any help with the horses?”

More silence, the thud of the leather saddle being thrown over Shimmer’s back clapping in the stale air. 

He persists.

“Now I know you probably don’t wanna hear anything from me, peach, but I just gotta ask you — what happened? To us. I’ve been wracking my brain to try to figure it out, but—but I gotta admit, darlin’, I thought things were alright. That we were starting a peaceful life together.”

He lifts his arms off of the gate, standing up straight as he waves one arm out in a gesture toward his house — the house that you used to spend every single night in, the pieces of you strewn throughout. Flowers on the kitchen table, dog-eared books on the couch, clothes thrown onto the floor and into his hamper, your favorite lavender soap from the apothecary withering away in his shower marking the time you two were together. It sits untouched now, still as full as the last time you used it, another reminder of your absence.

“But then, just out of the blue, you were gone. You took just five whole minutes to neatly pack up the loose ends of us, talkin’ to me as you grabbed all your things from my house, wiping the presence of you completely. And when you left me standin’ in the hall, you left me with it, that guilt. And all I could do was just stand there with all this love that I needed to give to you, watching you walk away without any goddamn clue as to why you were leaving. It wasn’t fucking fair.”

Joel crosses the threshold of the stall, standing only a few feet away from you as his frustrations begin to fully air, slithering out of him with venom laced behind his tone. He doesn’t want to feel this angry, this upset. But this hurt in his chest hasn’t been felt for years and it’s killing him, squeezing everything in him out.

“And now,” he nearly growls out, “Now I hear around town you got some other man around for you. That you got over us so quickly, found someone new to spend your time with. Did I really mean that little? To be able to tidy up real quick and move on?”

A laugh barks out at that — he can see it on your face how ridiculous you think whatever he said, something he said in all that was. It only fuels the fire inside of him, boiling up to his ears and over to the point he must have steam coming out of him.

What the fuck was so funny?

Here he was, being honest about his feelings and you were laughing.

The steel toe of one of his boots knocks against the wooden walls as he kicks it gently, turned away as he starts to listen to you open the floodgates. Your hands pause their work, turning away from the toasted brown horse to face him fully. Hands on your hips and head tilted to one side, your stare burns the back of his neck as he stands away.

“Really, Joel? There’s nothing you can understand about why I might have left you?” Your eyebrows furrow with your own fury, deep creases that he has only seen from concern for him, his wellbeing, and Ellie’s. Anger is a new look on you, and it isn’t one he is feeling fond of causing for you. That storm of guilt rumbles inside of him; another reason to hate himself for making you feel something you rarely do, making you into something you’re not — bitter.

“Also, I don’t really think you’ve got a right to be upset with me and bringing up that stupid shit bein’ said around town. I left the bar with one guy, one time. The rumor mill snatched up that story from the few people that saw us leave. Didn’t even go home with him cause I couldn’t stop seeing you like a fucking ghost. I left and you are still consuming my brain. I still wonder every day if you’re okay; if you’re still even here.”

That whips his head over his shoulder, the fracturing of his heart felt even deeper, a cut to his bones from your words. He never knew that you knew — what he had tried years ago. Admittedly, the thought crossed his mind again once, and only once. It quickly dissipated when you stepped into his room, your tender smile eager to tell him about your day. He loved listening to you, being a sounding board and an observer. How could he ever give that up? How could he ever hurt you?

Apparently, he didn’t need to wonder anymore. He did that without even realizing it.

Mouth agape as you continue, crease between his brows shadowed as he takes a step closer to you, the pull of your red-hot rage driving him nearer to your molten center. It was the one way to feel your warmth again, even if it was more like burning at that point.

“I can’t believe that you would even give that gossip a second thought. Must be grasping at straws there. But I guess that proves my point, the reason that I left.”

You turn away to handle the animal again, shaking your head wildly and rolling your eyes at yourself. His own frustrations bubble again, another step closer as he walks around your shoulder to your field of vision. A head tilt of his own, a nonchalant shrug.

“And how do you figure that, darlin’? Please, enlighten me,” his words cut into the air, attempting to antagonize you in a subconscious effort to keep you talking, to keep you around.

“God, that’s so fucking rich coming from you, Joel. Wanting explanations, wanting me to open up so you can understand. That’s why I left. I tried so hard to get you to open up to me, to let me in, and to be even the smallest bit vulnerable. I wanted you to show me that you trusted me. When I met you before you left with Ellie, things felt different. And when you came back, you had been getting more and more closed off the longer we were spending time together. I don’t know what happened out there if something happened between you and Ellie, and I don’t need all the details, but I needed something. And I gave you so many chances — second, third, hundredth chances to give me something that could show me you trust me or could even grow to trust me, but that didn’t come. All I wanted was to help you, Joel. I care about you so much. I loved you. But it didn’t seem like you felt the same. Never told me you felt the same.”

A step away from him, arms around your chest to protect your heart — from him? From breaking again? He didn’t know you needed the words; he tried to show you through his actions, his touch, the care he took of you. Words never came easy to him, actions did.

“And now, you’re being this fucking alpha, masculine man stomping in here and talkin’ to me about how you hear I was with some guy. Actin’ like I’m just trying to make you jealous like he was some understudy or rebound. Well, nothing happened like I said, so you can wipe off the face that looks like you’re gonna go get your knuckles bloody for me.”

The crease in his brow resolves, the sour twist of his lips relaxing as he drops his head in shame. You were right, always right. He would knock the lights out of the guy if you said one more word — if you said that you had moved on for real.

“All of it, still being around you and being reminded of you all the time, it feels like I’m trying to balance again on breaking branches. And every time I see you around, in person or in my head like a shadow following me around, those eyes — your stupid brown eyes pleading with me, they just add insult to injury.”

“I wanted to help you, Joel, to just be there to help you mend, even a little bit. But you never gave me a chance.”

A sigh slips from his lips, barely audible. You turn away as he steps toward you, tender eyes and gentle touch resting on your shoulder. When you don’t recoil, one of his rough, work-worn hands grabs your chin between his thumb and index finger, turning your head to meet his eyes as he quietly speaks, lower than the whole conversation has been.

“I never knew that is what you were worried about, darlin’. I’m fine, there wasn’t anything that happened between Ellie and I ‘cept that ambush at the hospital that I told you about. I didn’t think I was actin’ any differently than before.”

A scoff, shaking your head out of his grasp and pushing your hands against his chest to separate. You slip away, crossing the stall to grab more gear to dress the horse in.

“You are unbelievable.”

Now he’s really getting annoyed.

“What? What is so unbelievable?” His voice booms, echoing a bit in the empty horse barn, biting back his tongue as you close your eyes tightly. He opens his mouth to apologize for raising his voice, but your raised hand stops him.

“It’s obvious you are not fine, Joel, and you can’t even admit it now after I’ve told you that all I wanted was for you to be open. You can stop running. Slow down. Live. You don’t have to keep punishing yourself in silence.”

He scoffs and shakes his head, looking away as he works his jaw back and forth before he turns to you again, “I couldn’t read your mind! All this time, I never learned to read your mind. I can’t read Ellie’s mind — I can’t figure it out with either of you. Two of the most important people, two of the handful of people that I am still around for, have distanced themselves from me and I can’t seem to pull myself together to figure it out. I feel like I’m drowning out here on my own and I’m not even being thrown a fucking life raft. You never gave me time to turn things around, you never gave me a warning sign of what was goin’ on.”

The tightness in your shoulders falls, curling you smaller into yourself, and there goes another crack in his heart. Broken like old pavement when the Earth shifts, takes destroying it all to rebuild it.

Tired. You look so tired, and he aches with the thought that he’s exhausted you, even away. What is he going to do if he is open with you? Isn’t he going to be more of a burden?

No, he wouldn’t let himself. He would be honest with you. But there is no expectation that he could be fixed, that you could shoulder any of this weight he’s carried for twenty years. It’s lighter to him now, endurance built to keep himself under it without getting crushed.

“Joel…I gave so many signs. I checked in with you every day, I asked you directly how you were doing. A lot of the time, after long days, you’d be so short with me. Either annoyed or just brushing me off and changing the subject. So when asking you didn’t work, I tried to open up more myself to try to get you to feel comfortable talking to me about anything. You would just listen and move on. Nothing inspired you to give me even a little sliver of yourself, of your heart. I closed myself off more and more cause it felt like I was prying with someone who couldn’t even care less about me. You didn’t even notice that we didn’t touch, we didn’t kiss, we were barely intimate with each other in those last few weeks — we completely drifted, Joel. I tried to give you so many signs before I couldn’t take it anymore. You didn’t even see the signs.”

Thoughts and memories rewind in his head like an old tape, picking up patterns in himself and in you that he has been too blind to see. All he wanted was to move on, sweep it under the rug and live whatever life he could with you, with Ellie.

“I’m sorry, peach. I am so sorry. I swear on my fucking grave that I had no idea this was all happening for you — I was too in my own head. My heart is hurtin’ so much without you around; knowing I did something to push you away. And hearing what you were holdin’ in ‘cause I was bein’ too closed, too selfish to see what was wrong? It is destroyin’ me. I’m sorry, sweetheart. I really am.”

No response is given to him. He watches as you bend your arms, lifting them to press the backs against your eyes. They turn and run over your face, an ache in him to reach his own out to pull yours away, replace them with his own to hold your beautiful face again. When he speaks up again, he sounds like a child — soft, pleading for the punishment to end.

“Could you ever, I don’t know how to ask this really, but could you ever give me another chance? Would you?”

His eyes are glossing over, vision blurring slightly at the edges as you meet his gaze. A deep, exhausted sigh rolls from your chest, head shaking back and forth as your stare leaves him, running a million yards away somewhere.

“I—God, I don’t know, Joel. It felt like I was just there to give you comfort when you wanted it, when you thought you needed it, and that was it. That was my purpose to you. That you didn’t even want to try to open up, to build trust or anything between us. Things would really have to change for me to feel ready to try again.”

Another step brings him a foot away from you, the itch in his fingers too much to ignore anymore as he guides his hand up, caressing your cheek and brushing his thumb along the line of the high bone there.

“Sweetheart, honey, I’ll be better. If you give me another chance, I’m gonna do better by you. Gonna try more. I promise, peach. I’m not gonna fuck this up.”

Eyes flutter shut under his touch, the weight of your head falling into his gentle care a bit heavier.

When they open again, he can see resolve has been built. A defensive wall put back up after leaning in too much into the temptation of jumping back into the deep end.

“Can I have some time to think about it?”

Selfishly, he wishes you would just jump, dive into his waters with him so you can offer him a lifeline.

“Of course, peach. You come ‘round whenever you wanna talk. I’m gonna be there for you. Whenever.”

His lips press to your hairline, large hand stroking at the back of your head before he pulls away and exits the stall, crossing over to lead Old Beardy out of the stables to mount for patrol.

With his back to you, he doesn’t see the shaky breath you take, composure crumbling as you lean your head against the leather saddle, teardrops littering the surface.

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#writing #joel #folklore anthology #joel x reader #joel x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #tlou fic #tlou fanfiction #tlou fanfic

[jungle-angel]

Bedding Down For The Night (Rhett Abbott x Reader)

Summary: You and Rhett settle in as summer turns to fall

Rhett heaved a heavy sigh as he led the two calves into Abigail's stall for the night, gently guiding the two little dairy calves into the pen with their mother and her mate. He never truly liked when summer ended. Like you, he loved the way the grasses swayed in the breeze, the smells of the flowers after it rained, the sunshine, the heat, the buzz of the cicadas and the sounds of the peepers at night. Of course he loved all the fall smells, the warm dinners on a sharp, chilly night and the baked goods you and Cecelia made for the farmers' markets every year, but Rhett hated the autumn and winter blues that came with the changing of the seasons.

The male calf chewed a little at his shirt sleeve and licked Rhett's hand before he laid right down in the hay. Rhett gave him a playful scratch on the side of the head, kissing the top of it before shuttering the windows and throwing the little latchkey to close the windows and the stall gate on his way out. The horses were all set, as were the goats, the pigs and the chickens, all safe in their barns and stables for the night.

Back to the house he went, the coolness in the air evident and the few scatterings of fallen leaves already on the ground. He couldn't believe that in less than four weeks, Amy would be starting preschool at the outdoorsy-hippie school you taught at. It seemed like only yesterday she was just a tiny baby, taken in by you and Rhett and who she always called "Mommy and Daddy" instead of "Uncle and Auntie". Now she would be starting preschool in September when the leaves would be falling and the threat of winter was looming around the corner.

Up the steps he went, the front door creaking open on its hinges as he walked into the brightly lit home. He knew you were upstairs on strict bedrest but Cecelia was downstairs reading Amy and Hannah a story before dinner time.

"Hey Ma," he greeted.

"Hey Grumpy," Cecelia chuckled when she finished the story.

Amy jumped right up as Hannah carefully climbed her way down the sofa, waddle-running to her father with her Eeyore stuffie in her hands. Amy still had her little circus-clown ragdoll, taking it with her wherever she could possibly go. Luckily, Mrs. Newman and the other teachers at the school told the incoming children that they would be allowed to bring a stuffed animal or a doll from home to sleep with at naptime and would even learn to make their own.

"You two eat yet?" Rhett asked them.

"Papa made dinner," Amy answered.

"Momma still upstairs??"

Amy nodded.

"Alright, you and Hannah go get ready for baths," Rhett told her. "Gotta start goin to bed a little earlier now that school's startin for the the both of you."

Amy and Hannah both scooted up the stairs to wait for Rhett while Cecelia started on cleaning up the kitchen. "Can't believe she starts school in four weeks," he remarked, leaning against the doorframe.

"Yeah and ya'll got two more little ghouls comin up behind'em," Cecelia remarked as she began scooping the rice and asparagus into a plastic container.

Rhett groaned at the fact that already you two were expecting twin boys, the due date slowly creeping in just as the seasons did when they changed. "Yeah (y/n) was sayin something earlier about one of them resting their little butt right on top of her bladder."

"And need I remind ya'll that you used mine for a soccer ball?" Cecelia reminded him.

"Ma....."

"Your father would complain every time I had to run thirty minutes back to the house for a new pair of pants...."

"Ma......"

"........And it didn't help at all when you parked your little butt wherever you damn well pleased....."

"MOTHER!!"

Cecelia laughed as she spooned the last of the rice from the rice cooker into the container, closing the lid up and putting it away in the fridge.

"C'mon Ma," Rhett told her. "Why do you have to be so embarrassing?"

"It's my job," Cecelia answered. "And believe me, that's nothing compared to what your father, your godfather and your uncles all have on you."

Rhett felt his cheeks going hot at the thought.

When he had finished bantering back and forth with his mother and when Royal had come stumbling through the door, exhausted from having finished the day's work, Rhett went right upstairs to get Amy and Hannah ready for their baths.

As soon as the girls had been scrubbed clean and stuck in their pajamas, they both ran right back downstairs to bug their grandfather while Rhett went straight to his room. You had been holed up in his bed all day long, resting and watching one movie after another on the little tv resting on an old dresser he had decided to use for a stand.

Rhett snuck in next to you, coiling his arm around you protectively as his hand slid to your ever growing bump. "Boys are restless again?" he mumbled.

"You'd better believe it," you told him. "I couldn't even work on my knitting this afternoon. They kept using my liver as a punching bag."

Rhett stifled a laugh but he knew these next three months would drag out like the last few hours of a long road trip.

"Any news on the house?" you asked him.

"Wes FaceTimed me earlier when I was in town and told me that the dead tree on the property collapsed and almost hit the lumber truck," Rhett chuckled.

"How's Russ?"

"Still cranky," Rhett yawned, the room already having grown darker as the night had finally set in. "Nona told him he couldn't help work on the house."

"M'sure that went over like a fart in church."

You two had grown sleepier than usual, but when Rhett finally looked at his digital clock on his nightstand, he mustered what little strength he had left to go check on the girls.

Royal handed Hannah off to him as soon as he got upstairs while Amy stumbled slowly to her room. He laid Hannah right down in her pretty little bed, covering her with her pale, rosy pink and white blankets and tucking her in with her Eeyore and her little baby doll in its pink dress.

Amy had barely made it to her room when Rhett picked her up and brought her in, placing her in her bed and pulling the quilts and the crochet blanket over her. Her little circus-clown ragdoll was tucked carefully under her arm, his adorable, brightly painted face and soft, cuddly little body close to Amy's face.

Rhett kissed her goodnight and Hannah too before heading back to your room to snuggle in for the night. The two of you soon fell asleep as the movie played out and the chilly night had at last set in, you and your little family remaining cozy as ever, just as you did with every season that came and went.

#rhett abbott #rhett abbott x reader #amy abbott #royal abbott #cecelia abbott #royal x cecelia abbott #outer range

[keep-the-wolves-close]

Steady Heart

Chapter 34: Bridge Over Troubled Water

* Pairing: Slow-burn Kayce Dutton x OFC Stella Daniels

* Rating: M

* Warnings: NSFW, language, slight smut but mostly implied

* Word count: 4,528ish

I would love to give credits to @dameronscopilot and @deanscroissant for being sounding boards for me during this whole process, giving outsider insight, being cheerleaders, and allowing me to screech at them about things that have happened during the writing process. I seriously couldn't have gotten this far without y'all.

Author's note: I hope everyone is enjoying so far! I hope you love this chapter as well! My apologies for having y’all wait so long. I’ve been taking a much needed brain break lately. I’m slowly diving back in. There’s a detail in here, that I absolutely love, that I hope someone picks up on. 👀

Stella came down the hill to the pen they had Lucky separated in. She grabbed the lead rope for him and leaned on the fence and watched him walk around taking in everything. The sounds of the ranch were very new to him. It was a lot to take in. His nostrils flared every so often, and his ears were forward facing. He was definitely intrigued. The horse finally decided Stella was interesting enough to come stand by the fence.

She smiled affectionately at him. “Hey boy, you doin’ okay?” She held her hand out to him that held the lead rope. Lucky came a little closer to sniff at her hand and the rope, but still kept a good distance from her. She giggled. “You’re a smart one.” The crunch of footsteps in gravel grabbed her attention. She looked over her shoulder and saw that it was Kayce and his son.

“Finally decided to join us, huh?” She smirked at Kayce.

“Yeah, yeah.” Kayce easily fell back into his role of training with Stella. There was also an air of foreman about him this time. “You go on in and grab him, and I’ll go get the saddle. Tate you wait on the outside of the fence.” He directed both of them.

Stella and Tate scrunched their faces in annoyance in unison at being bossed around. As Kayce walked into the barn, Tate started to climb in between the rungs of the fence. “Ah ah. You heard your dad. I also say you can’t be in there with him yet.” Tate groaned. “I know, it’s not fair, but we gotta do this right. I had to do it with Abigail and she’s the best horse I could ask for. So it’s a lesson in patience for you right now.”

“I’d agree with her, son. Not much winning to be had here.” Kayce teased as he walked up with Tate’s saddle. He looked at Stella and put the saddle on the fence. “I thought you were gonna get a hold of him?”

Stella huffed. “I was keeping your son from going in there.” She opened the gate and went in slowly. Kayce closed it behind her. Lucky made his distrust known and backed away from the fence quickly. He parked himself in the farthest part of the pen and eyed her.

She placed herself in the center and let the lead rope touch the ground. She stood with her back to him and stared at the father and son.

Tate scrunched his face up. “What’re you doing? Shouldn’t you be going after him?”

“I’m waiting for him to come to me. Chasing him around is gonna do nothing except rile him up.” She smiled. “You remember what I said about that lesson in patience? This is part of it.”

“What’s that mean?”

“Well, you have to show him you trust him and he’ll start to trust you. The only way you can work with a horse is if that trust is there,” Stella explained softly. “That’s why my back is to him. It’s a vulnerable position for me, and I know at any point he could choose to hurt me, but I’m trusting him to not do that.”

“How do you get him to come to you then?”

“That’s the thing, Tate. Not only am I trusting him to not hurt me, I’m also telling him I’m safe to come to because I’m not pressuring him to do it.” A velvety warm nose touched the back of her neck. She moved and giggled lightly. Tate’s eyes lit up in wonder. Kayce smiled fondly at the interaction. He was taken back to when he and Stella worked on Abigail. He’d said the same exact words to her. Slowly she raised her arm up to touch Lucky’s face. He allowed her to grab his halter.

Stella turned around in gradual steps. Lucky flinched a couple times, but didn’t pull back from her. Now that she faced him, she carefully raised her hand that had the lead rope. Lucky looked at it like it was a snake. “I promise buddy, it’s just a rope. Smell it.” The horse nodded his head up and down a little bit, showing his personality. He leaned forward to sniff the rope.

When he didn’t spook at it, Stella moved and attached it to the rope halter. “Kace, I’m gonna walk him around for a minute before we saddle him up.”

“Whatever you say, boss lady.” He laughed at the glare she gave him.

As Stella walked Lucky around the pen slowly, she could hear Kayce talking to Tate in a low voice.

“See how gentle she’s being? She always approaches them like that, and I swear it makes them like her more than me.” Stella smiled softly at Kayce’s words. “Our old neighbor Sam would say it’s because she’s a woman, and they have quiet spirits.”

Stella defended herself. “I mean, I don’t know if I would describe it as quiet, but it’s safe. And the horses know that.”

“Then what do you do?” Tate asked.

“Then we start moving more naturally. Not aggressive, but not soft either.”

Stella brought Lucky back around to the front part of the pen. “I think we’re good now.”

Kayce nodded. “Alright son, stay on the outside.”

Stella held Lucky in place. Kayce softly sat the saddle on his back. He only flinched a little, but stood solid. She and Kayce locked eyes over top of the young horse.

She whispered, “you think he’s good?”

Tate yelled from the fence. “I wanna do it!”

Kayce gazed back at Stella, answering her silently. She knew the look meant “we’ll find out.” He said back to his son over his shoulder, “we’ll get you a chance, buddy. This takes a lot of practice.” He looked at Lucky and then at Stella. “Moment of truth.” He pulled one of the cinches on the saddle quickly.

Lucky bolted and Stella let go of the rope. They watched as he started broncoing. Kayce pushed him to move around the ring and get out his wild oats. Stella came to stand behind Kayce and watched as the horse circled them. After a couple passes, Lucky stopped and faced Kayce and Stella.

Kayce stepped forward with his hand out to the horse. “Woah.” Stella followed behind him as he continued to talk to Lucky. “That it? That all you got?” He stepped forward and Lucky allowed him to pet his nose. “You got a good mind, don’tcha?”

“I picked a good one.” Tate said proudly.

“You sure did, buddy.” Kayce smiled at his boy.

“He should probably pick all our horses from now on.” Stella laughed.

“I don’t know about that yet.” Kayce laughed with her. “Hey Stell?”

She turned to look at him. “Yeah?”

“I gotta get Tate to school. Would you mind finishing up with him here?”

“She wouldn’t mind at all.” Ryan interjected. “Would you, Stellee?” He fixed her to the spot with a look. Stella took in his tight shoulders and knew she was in trouble.

“Of course, cowboy. I’ll be here when you get back.” Kayce touched her arm as he walked by. She grabbed back at him while he passed her and watched the glare from her brother go ignored on Kayce’s part.

Ryan’s irritation turned to her. Rolling her eyes, she waved him in. “You hold him, I’ll get his saddle off.” He stomped over to her and took the rope from her. She side eyed him. “I can tell you’re pissed. You can talk to me all ya want, but don’t you dare scare this horse.”

“Are you fuckin’ around with him again?”

Stella reached for the cinch to undo the tightness Kayce had done up. “I’m not sure what we’re doing, Ryan. He saved me. He and Monica aren’t going back to each other. They’ve already decided that.” She paused when Lucky flinched. When he settled, she went for the cinch again. “I dunno. I’m trying to figure it out.”

Ryan pet Lucky’s nose to try and calm him. “I just don’t want you to get caught up in a bad situation.”

“I know.” She let the girth drop and slowly moved the saddle off of Lucky’s back. “Thanks buddy. Good job today.”

Her brother reached out to take the saddle from her. He walked it to the fence and placed it over the top. “Like you did with that brand. Tell me about it.”

“I was almost 18. Kayce had just found out Monica was pregnant with Tate. John wanted her to get rid of him and Kayce didn’t obey his order and the brand was his punishment.” Stella locked eyes with her brother. “The moment Monica knew she was pregnant, it wasn’t just about them anymore.”

Ryan’s mouth hung open. “Shit,” he whispered.

She shook her head. “Now whatever she chose to do with that pregnancy of her own choice, is none of my business. Nor do any of us hold room to judge that kind of choice that isn’t made lightly.” She slipped through the gate, her brother trailing behind her. She watched as he latched it behind them. “But I was not about to watch a crabby ass old man be selfish and destroy his son’s future, my best friend, just because he didn’t agree with them being so young or whatever his reasons were.”

They slowly walked along to the bunkhouse, Ryan took in everything she was saying along the way. “So, like I told you earlier. I pissed him off enough to brand me too. Because it wasn’t just about him and his princess attitude anymore.”

They got to the door of the bunkhouse and Ryan’s hand reached out to stop her. “I respect your reasons for standing up for your best friend, but my god you willingly put yourself through that?” He peeked at the scar popping out from her shirt.

“I did,” she nodded somberly. “And I would do it again in a heartbeat. It sucked, but my reasons were in the right place.”

“And you loved him.”

“Probably by that point, selfishly, yeah.” She could hear Kayce’s shout at her the night prior. “Because I fucking love you!”

“So is this something I should prepare myself for?”

Stella frowned. “What do you mean?”

Ryan looked around trying to find the right words. “You and Kayce changing pace and being together in a different sense than before.”

“Ry,” she sighed, “when I figure that out, you’ll know okay?”

He nodded. “Okay, now let’s go inside.”

“Wait, have you seen Rip?”

He pulled his lips together just like she did when something happened she didn’t want to talk about.

“Ryan, what happened? Did it have to do with Malcolm’s attack? Which by the way, why did no one tell me he went after Beth too!”

“I wanted you to worry about you for a change. Beth and Rip were fine. He’s been in the big house resting with her.” He stared at her, allowing the tough facade to slip for a moment and show her how truly frightened he had been. “I also was worried that you were gone when Kayce picked up your phone.”

Stella grabbed him in a tight hug. “I’m sorry, brub.” He returned the embrace just as tight. “I was fighting off more vomit. That’s why I handed the phone to him. I’m here, and that’s what matters. Dealing with taking lives, but I’m here.”

“We’ll make it through, sissy.” Stella’s eyes stung at his use of her childhood nickname. He pulled back and wiped the underside of her eyes with his thumbs. “Let’s go inside, yeah? There’s something we gotta take care of.” Ryan reached for the door and guided his little sister into the house.

As she stepped through the doorway, a chorus of happy birthday could be heard from every direction in the house. Stella stood in the kitchen flabbergasted. Lloyd, Jimmy, Colby, Jake, Ethan, Kayce and Jamie stood around the kitchen table. Sitting in the center of it was a plate of what looked like her favorite yellow cupcakes with chocolate icing and a few candles burning. She turned to her brother.

“Happy birthday, Stellee belly.” His eyes looked glassy as he called her another childhood name.

She launched forward and bear hugged Ryan so tight he thought he would pass out. “Thank you. It’s perfect.” She whispered. After being almost abducted or worse, and taking the lives of two people, the small gesture meant the world to her. She was grateful to still be here to experience the moment.

Kayce’s voice sounded over the commotion in the background. “Ryan had me tell Gator to make these for you this mornin’.”

Ryan let his sister go so she could mingle amongst everyone else. She made her rounds to everyone, giving them a hug and showing her gratitude.

“Blow these candles out so we can dig in!” Lloyd hurried her.

“Alright alright.” She walked up to the table and sucked in a big breath, but Jake stopped her. “What Jake?”

“Don’t forget to make a wish.” He said sheepishly.

Stella smiled. “Okay, Jake. Just for you, I will.” She closed her eyes and wished for everything she could think of in a 30 second span. She blew out the candles and everyone cheered. “Now dig in!”

She came to Jimmy as everyone else dug into the cupcakes. “You had a hand in this didn’t you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He smirked at her. Kayce sidled up next to them, and Jimmy grinned between them and backed away to give them a minute.

Kayce gazed at her fondly. “Hey, you.” He poked her arm.

Stella fixed her glasses and looked up at him. “Hey,” she giggled. “Thank you for helping my brother and Jimmy with their plan.” She wrapped him in a hug, which he stuttered to reciprocate. He wasn’t sure how to do this inconspicuously. “Just hug me, cowboy.” She whispered into his ear causing goosebumps to blossom along his neck. He slowly placed his arms around her waist. She let her head rest in the crook of his neck for a moment, pleased by the silence that overtook her mind by being in contact with him.

She pulled back a few inches. “And what happened to you having to take Tate to school?”

He shrugged his shoulders against her arms. “I lied. Grandpa took him today on his way into the office.”

“You shithead.” Stella smirked at him. “Now I’m gonna get me a cupcake.” She chuckled. He slowly let her go and watched her mosey over to the plate of dessert. A warm smile rooted itself across his cheeks. He wasn’t sure what the next steps were going to be, but he was grateful he could trek through them with her. He felt a presence on both sides of him. Looking right and left it was Ryan and Lloyd.

“You remember what I said? Don’t fuck up this time. Because Malcolm will be the least of your worries.” Ryan reiterated his warning from a few weeks ago. Lloyd’s bushy eyebrows rose at the confirmation that there was something going on between the two best friends. “This time around, I’ll have help.” Ryan nodded to Lloyd.

“10-4.” Kayce acknowledged.

A few hours went by and Ryan could tell his sister was tired. They all had hung around, played some poker, watched tv long into the evening; her want to hang out with the people she cared about was filled. He watched her sitting on the couch next to Jimmy. Stella had curled down into the couch and was half leaning on the latest wrangler. He reached across the table and tapped Kayce on the shoulder. He stopped talking to his brother long enough to glance over at Ryan.

Ryan motioned to Stella basically falling asleep sitting up. “You should get her to bed.”

Kayce stuttered for a moment at the permission granted from her brother, in front of his brother. He nodded and rose from his seat. Weaving his way in front of the couch, Kayce reached out and grabbed Stella’s hands.

She blinked owlishly. “Hmm?” Her eyebrows scrunched together.

“C’mon sugar. Let’s get you to bed.” Kayce tugged her hands to signal her get up.

“But can’t I stay here?” She bargained.

“No, Jamie took your bunk.”

Stella grumbled, not actually mad at Jamie, just mad she had to get up from the couch. She turned to everyone and they all watched her. “Thank y’all. I gotta remember to thank Gator. I’m gonna go to sleep for 48 hours now.” They shared a laugh.

Kayce went and grabbed her coat and she went to give her brother a hug. “I love you, but I gotta go to sleep.”

“You go, and I’ll see you in the morning.” He released her as Kayce came up behind her.

Kayce held out her jacket for her to slip her arms into the sleeves. She whispered, “thank you,” and zipped the dark green jacket.

“Let’s go.”

Behind them everyone wished them a good night and when the door closed Stella relished the heavy silence of the outside. She blinked hard a few times trying to wet her dry eyes. On a fence post nearby was a single crow that looked directly at her. She frowned at the unnerving feeling that hit her stomach. She was snapped back to the present by Kayce’s hand on her elbow.

“C’mon.” He directed her toward the lodge.

Walking through the door, Stella sighed and removed her jacket. Kayce took it from her and hung it up along with his. He hung up his hat and watched as she meandered through the kitchen to the bedroom. She took the two shirts off as she made it through the door. Kayce followed behind her and started to remove his clothes. Things were quiet and almost domestic.

Stella was caught in her head. Kayce said he loved her. She’d forgiven him last night. She was fine with his confession, but she needed to know where they stood. Were they just fucking around, or were they going to try for something more serious? Not knowing was bothering her, but she didn’t want to ask and scare him off.

Once in her underwear, she walked to the bathroom and took off her bra. She grabbed the white shirt she slept in and pulled it over her head. Quickly, she brushed her teeth trying to put off the inevitable.

Walking out of the bathroom, she paused in the door for a minute to look at Kayce as he pulled off his jeans and socks. He folded them up and put them on top of the dresser. He turned and spotted her watching him. Smiling at her, he stepped closer to her.

She allowed him to wrap his arms around her waist. He leaned down and gave her a quick kiss. “Happy birthday, sugar.” Stella put her hands on his chest and stayed quiet with her eyes closed. “What’s wrong?” He asked.

She opened her eyes again and angled her face up to look at him. “Nothin’. I’m just stuck in my head again.” She hated the passive lie as soon as it left her mouth.

“The other night?”

She’d let him think that. “Yeah. I guess the nighttime will bring it back for a while.”

“Well you’re safe here, with me. Let’s go to bed.” He gently guided her to the bed. She took off her glasses and set them on the side table, and hopped in. She crawled under the covers.

“Thank you, Kace,” she whispered. He opened his arm for her and she snuggled in tight against his side.

“Every time, sugar.” They both let out a breath and Kayce closed his eyes.

In the darkness, Stella couldn’t get her eyes to shut. At the bunkhouse, she’d been tired. After seeing that crow her mind exploded in all different directions. She wasn’t much for superstitions, but some of them she had seen proven. And a lone crow was usually a bad sign.

Kayce didn’t open his eyes, but he could feel that Stella was unsettled. She was tense against his side. He knew something was bothering her and it was more than the guys she killed.

He wondered if it was the situation between them. They hadn’t actually spoken about it. Both of them had a bad tendency to ignore the elephant in the room and just act like nothing happened. The talking didn’t come until it was dire straits, and that hadn’t turned out well for them in the recent past.

What were they? He didn’t know. He did know he wanted more with her. He just didn’t know what steps to take next. He hadn’t done this in a long while. Kayce realized he had started moving his hand up and down along her arm.

She traced patterns across his chest when she felt him move his hand. “I can’t sleep.” She mumbled against his shoulder.

“I can tell.”

“I’m sorry for keeping you up.”

“I’m only awake because I know something’s wrong. Just waitin’ for you to tell me.” He pulled her closer.

“I’m scared, Kayce.” She nuzzled into his shoulder further to hide from the heavy feeling.

“Scared of what?” When she didn’t answer and her breathing deepened, he almost thought she fell asleep. “You scared of Malcolm’s men, you mean?”

Her fingers tapped his chest. “I mean yeah. I’m worried they’ll come back and take all of us from each other.”

“But?”

“But I’m also scared of this.” She turned and laid part way on his chest to be able to look at him. He raised his hand and brushed her hair out of her face, cupping her cheek. She leaned into his hand. “I want this, but it also comes with territory I don’t know how to navigate.”

“I don’t know how to either.” He gazed affectionately at her. “But I know if we put our heads together, we can make it.”

Stella leaned her chin on his chest. “You really think so? We’re not forcing something that shouldn’t happen?”

“We won’t know unless we actually try, instead of hooking up and then acting like nothing happened.”

She laughed. “We seem to do that, don't we?”

“So you know what that means?”

She raised her head. “Enlighten me.”

“That means if either of us have doubts, or something is wrong, we gotta talk about it. Maybe not at the moment, but later that day. Before we go to sleep. We can’t hide things from each other.”

“Okay, I think I can manage that. Can you?”

“Yes.”

Stella felt her cheeks heat up in the dark. “Would it kill the moment right now if I asked a question?”

“Should I be worried?”

“Not really, but how’s this gonna work? In general, with Monica, explaining it to Tate? She’s probably gonna wanna beat the shit out of me. She already thought we were moving on together the other day when she dropped Tate off.”

“It’ll be fine. I think once she comes to terms, she’ll be glad it’s someone she knows I’m safe with and Tate is safe with.” He rearranged to get comfy. “And Monica and I will have to sit down with Tate and explain the situation about how me and his mom aren’t together anymore, but still there together for him.” He rubbed her arm. “Then we’ll cross the bridge of whatever is happening here.”

Stella nodded. “Makes sense. Don’t wanna overwhelm him.” She chewed on her bottom lip while she thought about his statement of ‘whatever is happening here.’

“What is happening here? I don’t want my feelings to blind me like last time.”

Kayce lifted himself up onto his elbows and made sure he had her focus. “I know I wanna be more than just your best friend. You and I both know we’re more than that now. What do you want outta this?”

Propping herself on her forearms, she stared at him thinking hard. Since she was nearsighted, he was actually in focus for her. She observed every line of worry or happiness, every freckle that she’d memorized years ago. Her chest swelled with emotion and her bottom lip trembled. With a huge breath she took the plunge.

“I’ve wanted you to be more than my best friend since I was 15,” she softly verbalized while looking down at his brand. Her hands shook against his chest, afraid of the consequences from her confession. “When you saved me for the first time, any chance anyone else had flew right out the window,” she whispered.

He lifted her chin. “How come you never said anything?” She tried to look back down and he held her head in place. “Look at me while you tell me. It’s okay.”

Stella shrugged. “I was younger than you, and I didn’t have any experience with it at the time. There was no way a 17 year old wanted anything to do with a 15 year old. And the thought of you saying no, killed me inside. So I figured I would watch from the sidelines and be happy if you were happy.” She finally looked him in the eyes. “And by the time I built up any sort of courage, you and Monica had started talking.” She let out a huff of a chuckle.

“I wish you would have said something.”

“Don’t wish that, Kace. You got your wonderful son from my lack of confidence.” She smiled softly at him. “And plus we’re here now, if that’s what you mean to try. I want us both to quit hiding from each other. To see who we really are.”

“I think I can get on board with that.”

“Those are some big shoes for us to fill, cowboy.”

Kayce reached up to hold her face again, but this time pulled her closer. He touched his forehead to hers, and whispered against her lips, “I have faith in us, sugar,” and enveloped her in a kiss that she felt down to her toes.

Stella sighed allowing her mind to be open to experience these emotions presently. She had an idea of what they both wanted, and that made her feel free. She had a partner in crime that would have her back with whatever changes came along the way.

He moved onto his side and propped a leg up, pulling her leg up over his. Reaching down between them, he pulled his cock out of his boxer briefs. She quickly shimmied her boy shorts off. “Shoulda done this before, genius,” she puffed out a laugh at Kayce’s poor planning. Once she settled he jerked himself a couple times and dipped into her waiting cunt.

“Oh,” Stella huffed out at the change in fullness.

“Look at me.” Kayce brushed her hair back. She opened her eyes and she locked onto his. The feeling that swelled in her chest was overpowering. She let out a whimper as she clenched around him. “We’ve got this.”

“Keep me safe, Kayce.” She requested for the second time. Not only for her body, but her heart.

“Always.”

They started to slowly grind against one another, chasing a familiar high but somehow this one was different. It was slow and explorative, like they were getting to know each other all over again.

#yellowstone #kayce dutton #yellowstonetv #luke grimes #ian bohen #ryan #kayce dutton fan fiction #yellowstone fanfic #yellowstone fanfiction #kayce dutton fanfic

[bellarkeselection]

Ch 13 - A Long Road

Part 14

Falling for my Bestie

@stellarosedutton co - author

Y/n's POV

Y/N woke up in the hospital, hooked up to machines as she looked at Kayce and reached for his hand as she squeezed it “K-Kayce, water”  She says, her voice raspy and hoarse from barely talking as she leaned over and kissed his cheek gently “My sweet husband, tell me how is our little girl doing. I have no doubt that she is doing just fine, now why don’t you lean down here and give me a kiss?” She says, knowing that Kayce’s love language was physical touch and that meant kissing her as well but she had a cast on her ankle as she winced and sat up “they said that i can go home, but i have to rest because of my ankle and the injury. But other than that, no horse riding again until i am better and able to walk again” She says, her hair was messy and disheveled which meant she hadn’t showered in a while but she would eventually do that when she got the chance to go home

Kayce's POV 

I've been sleeping in the lobby of the hospital checking on Y/n every few hours. Dad has been watching Tate who's been worried for his mama almost as much as me. The doctor had said the bullet broke a bone so she'll have to go through physical therapy and it's allowed to ride horses for almost a whole year. Running my hands over my face I think back to the night at the diner. About the mystery guys who shot my wife. Beth said she'd make the assholes pay for coming for our family. We'd found out the gender of my child two days before we returned home from our honeymoon. Getting to my feet a nurse finally arrived back at the desk with Y/n's discharge papers. Sitting my black cowboy hat on the counter I pick up the pen hearing her speak. "Where would you like us to charge for the surgery?" 

Brushing some of my hair from my eyes I sigh knowing dad won't like having to pay the bill. But he said he'd do anything for Y/n. "To the Yellowstone Dutton Ranch please." Sliding the clipboard and pen back towards her I go down the hallway to her room. A nurse stands in the doorway waiting for me, tipping my hat to her. "Ma'am." She carries a clipboard walking off once opening the door. "She'll need crutches for a few months and will have to wear the boot for a few more weeks after that." Standing in the doorway I see Y/n sitting on the bed changed out of the hospital gown with her crutches leaning against the bed. A medical boot on her injured foot. "Hey baby. I just signed the discharge papers." I softly spoke, making her tilt her head in my direction. She weakly smiled putting pressure on her non dominant foot stumbling into my arms. "I've got ya Y/n. Let's get you and our daughter home." She holds herself up with her crutches slowly walking with me right by her side in case she falls again with me carrying her bag of stuff.

Y/N's POV

Y/N was walking to the truck as she hobbled along with her crutches as she opened the door before grabbing the handle on the inside as she pulled herself into the front seat as she saw Tate sleeping in the backseat of the truck as she buckled her seatbelt as she was going to have to get used to being on crutches "Thank you for helping me Kayce, I love you so much" She says softly, running a hand through her hair as she sees his phone ringing as she answered it "Hello Mister Dutton, Kayce is driving. I'm coming home from the hospital, they have me in a medical boot and I have to do physical therapy. Also that means no riding horses until my foot is fully healed" She says, handing the phone to Kayce "you're turn handsome, he's your dad so you gotta talk to him too. Make it where he won't worry so much about us" She says, her head resting on his shoulder as she starts falling asleep in the front seat. 

Kayce's POV 

Putting the speakerphone on, I talk to my dad. "Hey, dad. I'm bringing her home. Tate's asleep in the backseat. We'll be home in a few minutes." My dad responded through the phone. "Sounds good. I'm happy to hear my daughter in law and granddaughter are alright." Hanging up the phone I see Y/n's asleep in the passenger seat. It brings a smile to my face seeing her peacefully resting. She said the hospital bed was extremely uncomfortable when she'd have contractions from our little girl. Finally getting home I go to the passenger side gently shaking her awake. "Baby, wake up. We're home." She rubs her eyes, still half asleep, swinging her legs over the side of the seat. Holding her crutches steady for her she pushed herself out grabbing them for support. This is gonna be much harder on her with her growing pregnant belly. The front door of the house opened seeing my dad walk out. "I've got some really big cookies in the kitchen. I can watch Tate while you get her all settled in your room." Tate gets out of the backseat smiling at his grandfather. "Big cookies!" Dad nods ruffling his grandson's hair. "They ain't small ones, grandson." Y/n smiled watching the pair going for cookies. "He's a good grandpa, Kayce." Swinging her bag on my shoulder I help her up the stairs slowly seeing she's off balance. "Yeah he is. Mom would've been a good one too." 

Comments welcome 🤗

#kayce dutton #kayce dutton x reader #luke grimes #john dutton #kevin costner #rip wheeler #cole hauser #yellowstone #wattpad fanfiction #stellarosedutton #ask box is open for anything

[spacedikut]

lockdown lovers ; spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid (criminal minds) x f!reader

summary: lockdown!au. spencer goes from expecting his days to be filled with books, books and more books to books, an asshole cat, and a cute anonymous neighbour. 4857 words

a/n: i was so excited about this and stayed up writing it so i hope you like it too :)

masterlist

It’s three days into lockdown when Spencer notices the cat.

It’s a Maine Coon, he recognises instantly, but there’s this distinctive… dead look in it’s eyes. The body is huge – so fluffy it looks like the cat has a mane, ears invariably up straight and large enough that the eyes look beady in comparison. A mixture of white and grey throughout, the cat spends its days lounging across the windowsill of the apartment in the building next to Spencer’s.

He’s fascinated. How can a cat be so big, so ugly, yet so lovely?

He has to know more.

If he was anyone else, he’d argue the obsession is the fruit of going stir-crazy in his apartment. A lack of seeing his friends combined with having to work cases from home would be the perfect justification for Spencer to move his work station to the window facing the cat.

But this is Spencer. He’s happy being stuck home. He just likes the look of the cat.

He spends a good twenty minutes rifling through his stationary to find a piece of paper and the appropriate pen to jot a note for the cat owner. He thinks the owner must be stuck home, too, so if he sticks the note to his window and waits a day, he could know the cat’s name within twenty four hours.

They’ve had plenty of staring contests. Spencer should know his rival’s name.

So he does. He takes his time writing out the words “I like your cat. Do they have a name?” clearly on the paper, then spends a good five minutes deciding where on the window to stick the message.

He decides on the upper left corner. You won’t miss it.

The cat blinks sleepily at him as they watch Spencer tape the question up.

There’s an answer within three hours.

Spencer is too excited to be embarrassed at how enthused he was when he noticed the response.

Or when he saw the name.

Hi there! His name is Mr Darcy :) He’s a dick x

Spencer can’t help but profile the writing, the syntax, the grammar.

The first thing he notices is there’s a feminine lilt to the way you write – you’re a woman, most likely. The writing is slightly messy, indicating high intelligence, and the use of a smiley face and a kiss makes him think you’re younger in age. If you live alone, which you must because you live in a one bedroom apartment, he can safely guess you’re around his age.

And Mr Darcy… you’re a bookworm. At least for romance and the classics.

Spencer likes Mr Darcy. He has so many questions, suddenly, like how is Mr Darcy a dick and how old is he and why does he never seem to move from his position by the window and what is your name and who are you and do you happen to read a lot of books? Like Ray Bradbury? Please say yes.

He shocks himself. Maybe this quarantine is getting to him more than he realises. He hasn’t felt this excited since Maeve.

He hasn’t been this intrigued since Maeve. And the circumstances are similar, he realises.

No. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Spence.

He worries himself into a spiral when he begins thinking about how to reply. As if she can hear his whining, Penelope calls him.

They’ve made it a habit to call one another a lot. She recently taught him how to use his webcam and has been encouraging him to write more on his computer, rather than by hand.

“Good afternoon, my favourite Doctor.” She sings. He hears some shuffling in the background and can tell she’s baking.

“I need your help with something.” He cuts straight to the chase.

Her interest is piqued, “Oh? I am all ears.”

“Remember the cat I mentioned?”

“The ugly-but-beautiful majestic beast that, if you believed in reincarnation, would’ve been a high class gentleman in his past life? Yes. I think about him every day.”

“His name’s Mr Darcy.”

She lets out a screech, a mixture of a groan and moan that is filled with pure glee. “Of course he’s called Mr Darcy! Tell me everything. How do you know?”

He’s clearly impressed with himself when he says, “I asked.”

“Whoa.” Penelope freezes in her kitchen. “Are you, Doctor Germaphobe, breaking the lockdown rules?”

Spencer feels insulted. “No! Never! I stuck a note to my window, like in that viral tweet you sent me.”

She chuckles, “Well, I already told you I could’ve told you everything about Mr Darcy and the owner if you wanted me to. I am incredible.”

“I appreciate the gesture, Garcia-“

“But it’s morally wrong. Yeah, yeah, heard it all before. What have you said back?”

“That’s what I need your help with.”

Garcia is only a little surprised he’s asking her and not Derek. But, then, as much as she loves Derek, he’s a bit too.. much for someone like Spencer when it comes to love. Spencer approaches people gently, hesitantly, often giving the impression he doesn’t even want to be there.

Derek can have anyone on their knees within minutes.

Different tactics, that’s all.

“Alright, pretty boy. How long have you been talking? Purely through window messages? What else has been said?”

“Well,” He begins, clearing his throat, making eye contact with Mr Darcy, “We’ve only spoken once. When I asked for Mr Darcy’s name. You know, studies have shown that animals can form lifelong friendships with other animals, even if they’re not from the same species.”

“Spencer.”

“Most research has focused on chimpanzees, baboons, horses, hyenas, elephants, bats, and dolphins - but there’s no reason to think that friendship is exclusive to these species.”

“Spencer!”

“What?”

“You’ve spoken to them once?”

“Her. Spoken to her once. And it wasn’t speaking, it was writing.”

There’s a long sigh down the phone. “First of all, how do you know the owner’s a girl?”

There’s movement in Mr Darcy’s apartment. Spencer stares. “The way she writes.”

“Uhuh,” Spencer can hear her stirring something through the phone, “And what was the last thing said?”

Spencer’s eyes narrow – is that a person? Is that the owner? Is that her? Oh my god.

“Spencer? You still there?” Garcia looks to her laptop, checking the call is still connected.

“Yeah, I’m here. Sorry. The last thing she said was his name is Mr Darcy and he’s a dick.”

“Oh,” Garcia smirks, “It’s sexy hearing you say dick.”

In normal circumstances, Spencer would register her comment and give a very distinct huh, but he’s distracted.

He sees Mr Darcy meow. A hand appears, petite, with fingernails painted yellow that have smiley faces on them. She brushes Mr Darcy’s fur back, pulling so the skin around his eyes tugs up high and he looks stupid. He seems to like it, though.

She must like smileys, he thinks.

Mr Darcy stands and stretches. He’s alarmingly long.

It’s silent on Garcia’s end, where she looks confused at the sudden silence. She checks again that the call is still connected.

“Spence?”

“Still here. Sorry. I thought I saw her.”

“Oooo,” She’s all giddy, “What does she look like? Is she pretty?”

“I couldn’t see her properly. I can tell she’s too cool for me already. This was stupid.” He sighs, “Forget I said anything. I’ll take knowing Mr Darcy’s name and move on with my life.”

Spencer moves to hang up, but is interrupted by a loud “No!” being shouted at him by Garcia.

“No, Spencer! No! You write something back to her right now and you form a friendship with someone that isn’t one of your colleagues. I love you with my whole heart, and you know that, but it would be good for you to expand your social circle!” She grins and bites her tongue between her teeth, “Aaaand.. this could be the start of a quarantine romance. God, I miss dating.”

At the mention of romance, Spencer visibly flinches. “I’ll see what I can do. I gotta go, Garcia, thanks for calling.”

“Love you. Please marry her so Mr Darcy can be the ring bearer.”

And she hangs up. He’s left contemplating whether he should respond, and what he should respond, as he watches the empty space where Mr Darcy is absent.

It must be dinner time for him.

+++

I’m curious as to how someone named Mr Darcy can be a dick.

That’s a good response, right?

Right?

It lets you know he gets the reference, he knows who Mr Darcy is named after, and leads you to continue the conversation. It’s perfect.

It’s taken him nearly two hours to come up with it. He feels exhausted.

He sticks it on the window, where Mr Darcy has returned to, and huffs out a breath.

He reminds himself to be calm and cool. This is simply a way to pass the time during quarantine, there’s no need to put too much pressure on himself to think it’s anything more or to put more effort than is necessary (he says, after spending two hours formulating a response).

Calm and cool. Cool and calm. Neither are words Spencer would ever use to describe himself.

Spencer stays up until nearly 1am reading. Just before he sleeps, he walks to the kitchen to get some water, and can’t resist checking to see if you’ve responded.

You have. He ignores the way his heart speeds up.

He used to share the windowsill with my other cat and a bunch of plants. Now he bites anything that attempts to move near him. He also likes to vomit on my pillow. My single pillow.

Spencer chuckles as he reads it. He remembers when the window was full of plants, and how one day they all just… disappeared. He assumed the person moved out, but now it’s funny to think that you had to move them all because Mr Darcy demanded he own that space.

He doesn’t recall ever seeing another cat.

Well, now he has to respond. He needs to know about the other cat!

He imagines Derek coming to him in an apparition, like some sort of angel, and saying, calm and cool, kid. Calm and cool.

Spencer decides he’ll reply in the morning. Cause he’s calm and cool, and totally doesn’t want to know anything and everything about you and the two cats you live with.

+++

The messages continue for days. Spencer learns a lot, despite his “attempts” to not profile you (“attempts” as in there was really no attempt).

He learns you were given Mr Darcy by a friend, he’s two years old, and your other cat is the recently adopted, affectionately named Stupid Sally. She’s a ginger cat, estimated to be at least four years old, and you refuse to believe there’s anything going on in that tiny head of hers.

Spencer catches a glimpse of Sally a couple of days after he learns her name. She jumps up beside Mr Darcy, bonks her head on the window, then is whacked by Mr Darcy and falls from the windowsill. Sally doesn’t make another attempt.

He still hasn’t seen you, though. The longer he talks to you, the more he wants Garcia to send him everything she can find on you.

But he has restraint. And fear.

He wants to know more, wants to learn more about the anonymous girl in the opposite building. He doesn’t even know your name, and he assumes you don’t know his, and he’s not entirely sure what number apartment you live in.

He considers asking to convert your conversation from post-it notes on windows to hand-written letters, but that reminds Spencer too much of Maeve and he can’t handle that.

Do you know how difficult it is for Spencer Reid, with all his knowledge and facts and ramblings, to limit himself and how much he says?

It’s torture.

The sun is blinding when Spencer pulls his curtain back, eyes navigating to see if there’s a new message waiting.

I haven’t asked, do you have any cats? Any pets? Mr Darcy would be a terrible boyfriend but Sally could use a lover :)

Before he can stop himself, his mind is whirring with the possible implications of your message. Does this mean you want to meet? You want to know about him as much as he wants to know about you? You’re interested?

He needs to call Penelope. He wants to talk to you so badly, learn everything there is to know, but he can’t bring himself to do it. The situation reminds him of Maeve and, although it’s been so long, he’s still mourning. He’s not sure he’s ready.

Turns out he doesn’t need to worry. You’ve got your own plan.

+++

“So,” Your friend sighs, flopping onto the couch, “You got his number? His name? Anything?”

“No,” You pout, “Not even sure he’s a guy.”

“That’s never stopped you before.”

You playfully gasp. “I don’t know what you’re implying, but I am insulted.”

She chuckles. She knows all about your curious neighbour - she’s the one that encouraged you to reply and keep replying. And now she’s the one trying to convince you to form an actual friendship.

“Just put your number on your window.”

“Do you know how dangerous that is?!” You scold, “Anyone could see it!”

“Yeah, but neighbour guy could see it. And text you. And be really cute.”

You can’t help but glance behind you, into your bedroom window, where the infamous window is. Mr Darcy lounges, completely zonked out with the sunshine keeping him warm.

“What’s the worst that can happen? Some random people text you and you, what, block them? That’s it. Easy.”

Life is so easy for extroverts, you think.

You grab your notebook, rip a piece out and jot down your number before you have a change of heart. You’re essentially double messaging through the medium of your window messaging. But who cares?

What have you got to lose?

+++

Spencer stares at your phone number for way too long. Mr Darcy, as if sensing Spencer’s battle, lazily lifts a paw and rests it against the paper, pushing it into the window.

Spencer dials Penelope’s number straight from memory.

“I was beginning to think you’d died, Spencer-“

“Is it a terrible idea to start texting with Mr Darcy’s owner?”

“What?!” She exclaims, “No! No no no no no! That is an incredible idea! Spencer, please tell me you’re texting her!”

Penelope’s excitement gives him a rush of confidence. She’s always so supportive, so encouraging. Penelope is the best.

“I’m staring at her phone number. I just- we know what happened last time..” He trails off, voice meek. He wants to pretend he isn’t constantly thinking about the worst outcome, but he is. He’s scared.

Penelope’s voice is soft down the phone, “Spence. You have nothing to be afraid of, okay? I’m so proud of you for even considering texting her. But if you truly think you’re not ready, maybe you’re not. But remember, this doesn’t have to be anything you don’t want it to. You can keep the conversation to cats and cats only.”

Spencer smiles even though she can’t see him. She’s right. It doesn’t have to be anything and, honestly, it’s likely it won’t be anything – after all, Spencer isn’t exactly confident when it comes to women.

She might also have a boyfriend. A husband. A wife. He doesn’t know.

He realises he’s started thinking way too deep about someone he doesn’t even know the name of.

“Does that silence mean you’re gonna text her?” Penelope questions, suspense and hope clear in her voice.

“Yeah,” He replies, glancing at Mr Darcy, “I am.”

+++

[To: Mr Darcy and Sally’s Owner]: Hello. I’m Spencer.

[From: Mr Darcy and Sally’s Owner] hello??????? do i know a spencer?

Embarrassment flushes through him. What a weird way to introduce yourself, he chastises himself, Great first impression.

[To: Mr Darcy and Sally’s owner]: Sorry. I’m the one that’s been asking about your cats through the window.

[From: Mr Darcy and Sally’s Owner]: really? prove it

He wants to feel insulted that you’re so suspicious, but is simultaneously impressed that you’re so cautious. It makes sense to worry after posting your number for anyone to see.

[To: Mr Darcy and Sally’s Owner]: Of course. I’ll put a note on my window with my number now.

He does just that, shuffling quickly and frantically like he does when his mind is moving a thousand miles a minute during a case. He slaps the note against the window, unable to resist hovering on the off chance he spots you.

His phone buzzes.

[From: Mr Darcy and Sally’s Owner]: oh hi spencer! im Y/N, owner of Mr Darcy and sally :)

He can’t help but chuckle at the sudden change of tone. You take stranger danger seriously, it seems.

Why does he find that so endearing?

He’s getting ahead of himself, again. Calm and cool.

They pick up the conversation from where the last note left off, where you asked Spencer if he has any pets of his own. He finds it much easier to talk to you like this, rambling and all, which you don’t seem to mind. Your texting style is distinctively different to his, making his phone vibrate multiple times as you send each sentence of your message separately. He prefers writing chunks full of information, all with perfect grammar and punctuation.

You teach him what ‘wtf’ means and when he sends a meme to Penelope with that caption she loses her damn mind.

She decides she loves you there and then.

A friendship blossoms. It’s odd, he doesn’t know what you look like and you admit to catching a glimpse of him when he showed you his number through the window, but other than that you have no idea what the other looks like.

You know so much about eachother’s lives, though, and so much about eachother. You know which apartment you both live in, he’s got a whole list of reasons why Mr Darcy is a dick and he kind of agrees, you even know that he’s an FBI agent.

Then it happens.

He discovers what you look like.

He wants to play it off as an accident, he really does, but that would be a complete and utter lie.

The area under the window opposite yours has become his new sanctuary. He spends way too much time there, reading and whatnot, and he tries to pretend that it’s so he can watch Mr Darcy all day every day, but there’s always been a part of him that wants you to walk by. Maybe stop right in the centre of the window, pause, let him get a good look.

That’s exactly what happens.

He’s doing some “light” reading before he moves to his bed, where he will continue to read, and he sees the main light in your bedroom switch on. You always have a light on – you’re scared of the dark, just like him, but the main light catches his attention because Mr Darcy looks back and meows.

Someone’s in the room.

For some reason, he can’t tear his eyes away. It’s not the first time he’s noticed someone flutter around the room, never managing to really show themselves. It could the best friend you told Spencer about, the one that you’ve been stuck living with the past month or so.

But it’s not.

A girl appears, wearing an oversized t-shirt and shorts with still-wet hair. She dangles a cat toy before Mr Darcy, which he swipes at twice, then looks away, uninterested.

She rolls her eyes at that, then starts dancing and mouthing along to a song Spencer doesn’t recognise. Now he can’t stop staring – she’s captivating, whoever she is, as she prances around her room, arms flailing around and serenading a very unimpressed Mr Darcy.

This has to be you, he thinks. He doesn’t know why, but this has to be you.

Your passionate singing dies out. It’s the end of the song. Before the next one can begin, you happen to look up and through the window, straight at Spencer.

And you disappear.

You collapse. You definitely scream a little, dramatically falling to the floor and hiding under the window with your back to the wall.

Holy shit. You think. He’s cute and he saw me singing to my asshole cat.

He must think I’m crazy.

Spencer keeps staring at the now empty space of your window, Mr Darcy having been spooked by your exit.

He thinks he might be in love.

+++

Neither of you know what to say to one another after what transpired.

You’re too embarrassed, Spencer feels a little star-struck, and you’re both speechless.

Neither of you expected the other to be so.. attractive.

Your phone is thrown in your lap. “Do it. Do it now.”

In a daze, you blink up at your friend, “I can’t.”

“Don’t make me threaten you.”

You blink.

“I know where he lives. I will obliterate the lockdown rules to go talk to him and drag him here, then you can deal with this face-to-face.”

Your mouth falls open. “Are you insane?”

She unlocks your phone, opens your conversation with Spencer, and places it in your hand.

“Yes.”

+++

[From: Y/N :)]: did you at least enjoy the performance…..

Spencer’s whole body prickles when he sees you’ve texted him.

Maybe Penelope’s manifesting did work.

[To: Y/N :)]: I did. I didn’t expect our face reveals to be so…

I honestly don’t know what to say.

[From: Y/N :)]: s doctor reid speechless? am i that talented?

Spencer lies back on his couch, beaming at his phone like a teenager in a cheesy chick flick.

[To: Y/N :)]: You’re very talented. Mr Darcy clearly disagrees, but don’t listen to him.

And just like that, you’re back in the flow of things.

+++

When July rolls around, you and Spencer have been talking every day since March. Despite the monotonous, repetitive days, Spencer wakes up giddy when he sees you’ve texted him. He usually wakes up earlier than you, you have a habit of playing games or watching television until the early hours of the morning, and he loves to send you a fact to wake up to.

Your favourite are the animal facts. He got Amazon Prime just so he could buy a plethora of animal books and watch animal documentaries. All for you.

At one point, you evolved to phone calls. They don’t happen often and the first one was while you were drunk, but they’re fun for the both of you.

It had been a Saturday, you and your friend were having a movie marathon with wine and of course she brought up Spencer. She choked on her drink when you told her you haven’t heard his voice or seen him since the incident.

“You should call him,” She slurred, “Tonight.”

“He’s working on his jigsaw. I’m not going to interrupt.”

She gave you this incredulous look, asking Really?

“What?! I have respect for him and his jigsaws!”

“Have respect for yourself and how cute he is!”

“That doesn’t make sense!”

She sighed, placing her glass on the coffee table with a clunk, “Picture this: you’re helping him with the jigsaw.”

You couldn’t hide the slight upturn of your lips at the thought. You both love jigsaws, doing one with him would be stupidly romantic to you.

“Yeah.” She nodded ridiculously, “That ain’t gonna happen if you don’t call him!”

In your drunken state, you realised she’s right. You called him that night for a total of ten minutes before you passed out after calling him super handsome.

You both went to sleep feeling warm inside. Spencer called you again the next day, where the call lasted nearly two hours, and it went from there.

But now the lockdown rules are being eased. People are going back to work, meaning establishments like restaurants and hairdressers are opening up with limited capacity, all breathing beings expected to wear a mask.

Neither of you have mentioned actually meeting one another. You’re too nervous. What if he doesn’t like you? What if the image he’s created of you in his head is way better than you are in real life and he’s disappointed? What if he doesn’t want to meet you?

Spencer worries about the exact same things.

So neither of you say anything.

+++

It doesn’t happen often, but sometimes Spencer’s mail gets sent to the wrong address. Perhaps to his neighbour, the person living across the hall, or someone on a completely different floor.

Twice, Spencer’s mail has been delivered to the apartment building next door. The building he now exclusively calls “Y/N’s building”.

Now it’s three times.

Unphased by the mask on his face, Spencer glances around the lobby of your apartment building and wonders what your routine is when you get home. Do you immediately check for packages? Look at the noticeboard? Or do you go straight up to your apartment?

Spencer walks to the reception desk, smiling politely even though the person can’t see it.

“Hi, I’m from the building next door. I think my mail was accidentally sent here?”

He clicks a few buttons, types a few things, then flippantly asks, “Apartment number?”

“Twenty-three.”

“Let me go get it.”

He takes his time leaving his chair and wandering through a door. Spencer glances around. There’s a few people, all wearing masks (Thank God), doing their own thing.

There’s two girls next to him. He eavesdrops, because he’s bored.

“I’m too used to living with you now,” The girl facing him pouts, “I don’t want to go.”

The girl with her back to him laughs, light and sweet, “You live a block away.”

“You know Sally is gonna miss me.”

Sally? As in…

“She’s gonna miss you only because you feed her too much and now she’s fat.”

Wait.

“C’mon, Y/N-“

Spencer blocks out the rest cause holy hell. You’re right there. You’re standing right next to Spencer, in all your glory, and you have no idea that he’s right there, too.

Should he say something? Should he introduce himself? Should he..

“Here, sir. My apologies for the mix-up.” The receptionist re-appears, handing Spencer his mail.

“Thank you.”

And Spencer leaves.

Except he doesn’t.

He stops outside the reception entrance, takes out his phone, and texts you.

[To: Y/N :)] This is weird but I’m right outside your building. I think you’re in the foyer and I’m too scared to approach you.

Two minutes pass before the building doors fly open.

Your head swivels back and forth. When you find Spencer, adorable and awkward Spencer, he can tell you’re grinning from the way your eyes bunch up under your mask. God, he knows you have the most beautiful smile. Everything about you is beautiful.

“Hi,” You breathe.

Spencer mouths a silent hi. You’ve taken his breath away.

“I-um. It’s good to see you in person.” Your voice is soft. It’s soft, and smooth, and so much prettier in real life. It’s already pretty through the phone, but the real version shoots straight to his heart.

He gulps, “Yeah, it’s.. Unexpected, but nice.” The corners of his mouth quirk up and he can’t tear his eyes away from you, “You’re even more gorgeous in real life.”

The compliment rolls off his tongue naturally because it’s true and from the second he spotted you he’s lost all logical thinking.

“I am?” You ask, gentle and hesitant, almost asking are you sure you mean me?

Spencer blushes, somewhat embarrassed by his confession. But he meant it, Spencer’s not the type to say things he doesn’t mean, and you don’t give him time to regret it-

“Would you like to get some coffee? If you’re free now?”

Would it be too much if he screams Yes?

“Yes. I’m free,” He ignores the mail in his hands, stuffing it in his satchel, “But let’s avoid Café Nero, I assume you still haven’t recovered from the nightmare latte you had there.”

You grin, which makes Spencer feel fuzzy, flattered that he remembers anecdotes from your texts.

Of course he remembers. You remember he has an eidetic memory.

You shyly brush your hair behind your ears, both sides, and Spencer spots the bright red of them. You’re flushed, just like him, and it fills him with confidence to know you’re the same mixture of excited and anxious about meeting him in person.

“W-what about your friend?” Spencer gestures vaguely to where he assumes she’d be, “Would she mind?”

“She’s the reason I ran out here, so… I think she’d be mad if we didn’t leave her behind.”

You smile at one another, a few feet apart. Spencer’s bumped into by the opening door of your apartment complex and stumbles, apologising profusely to the unimpressed woman that just stares at him.

Through the entire ordeal you watch Spencer, only him, and can’t stop the radiant, love-filled look on your face.

Maybe Mr Darcy isn’t such a dick when he’s the reason Spencer came into your life.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #mine #oh to be spencer reid's neighbour that he falls completely in love with during the lockdown

[blissfulparker]

COWBOY DAD TOM TEACHING HIS KIDS HOW TO RIDE A HORSE OR CARE FOR SOME THING ON THE FARM AND READER JUST IS SO HAPPY AND AHHHHHHH

The house was quiet when you woke up. The bed was also empty. Knowing Tom, he had to be up early in the morning for the animals but having two kids never meant peace for either of you.

With worry laced through your mind as your eldest boy was not in his room and your little girl missing, you quickly throw on some clothes to rush outside hoping to find them there.

Outside was exactly where you found them, your son who was no older than five tended to chickens whilst Tom held and bounced your three month old.

“Now careful bubs, they won’t bite so don’t be scared but they do get excited!” He warns.

It was a sight that warmed your heart. Tom bouncing your girl while teaching the boy to do things on the farm. Your son was always excited to help, feeling just like his dad when he did.

“They won’t bite, they like me!” Your boy calls out to his dad and you smiled from the door as you started to walk over to them.

“Good morning.” You smile as you greet tom with a kiss on the cheek and gently bring your hand down to stroke your little girls cheek.

“Morning, Angel.” He smiled as he kissed your lips just barely before looking back to make sure nothing has happened in the pen.

“And he is…” you start and Tom smiles.

“Up before me so he can help with the animals, promised him he was able to get up on buttercup before lunch.” He gave you a smile and you only smiled back.

“Well, I love that my boys are excited and love their farm but I will say I was a little disappointed I never got my morning cuddles and kisses from them.” You teased and Tom only leaned his body against you as reassurance that he was there.

Before anymore words were shared between you and Tom, your son came running over excited with an empty pal as he was all finished.

“Mummy! Look! Daddy let me help him this morning!” He gave a big smile, one tooth already missing and you gladly pick him up to kiss his cheek.

“He did? How exciting! How about I go get started on breakfast, you need to come in and eat at one point.” You kissed his cheek and set him down. He only ran off to do the next thing and you held your arms out for your calm babygirl.

“I have no excuse for why she’s out here, guess I just thought you’d wanna sleep in. Plus, she’s gotta watch and learn too. I’m getting old babe I can’t be bending over every day for this place.” He places his hand over his lower back and pretends he’s aching.

“Alright, alright, well whenever my old man wants to come in…breakfast will be ready. Make sure you—“ you start but he already knows what to say.

“—watch him when he gets up on buttercup, I will don’t worry. She’s a gentle horse.” He promised as he kissed your cheek and leaning down to kiss your babies cheek too before going off to your son.

From the kitchen window you are able to watch the boys run around and laugh in the farm. Able to see how excited your boys gets to feed the animals and let them run around for a bit. Your little girl coos from her seat and you look over at her with a sigh.

“That’ll be you one day darling, don’t worry.” You smiled at her before going over to kiss her cheek.

You never thought that your life would be so perfect on a farm, with a man who views his horse as one of your children and actual human children of your own. A peaceful life on the country side was all yours.

#kats blurbs #cowboy!tom #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #imagine tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland au

[mothergayselle]

I Said... Hold Still // Obey Me // MC x Lucifer

rating: t words: 3.5k summary: takes place during the furry event, MC does the boys’ makeup for the video but takes *special care* with lucifer’s

xxx

“Stop squirming, Levi. You’re going to smear everything and then I’m going to get mad.”

Leviathan blushed, visibly racked with the desire to fidget in the chair. “I can’t help it,” he said, crossing and uncrossing his ankles, which clunked into hers. “You’re so close to my face.”

A scoff audibly sounded off in the background, and the unmistakable tenor of Mammon’s voice filled the dining room. 

“Yeah. A little too close, eh? Back off, Levi!”

Freya sighed. As long as Levi’s face was scrunched with annoyance, it’d be impossible to apply any more makeup to it. She paused, her hand a patient dove hovering in the air, coasting, while Levi replied.

“I’m not doing anything! You back off, stupid scumbag!”

“Hey! Ya gotta stop callin’ me that! Or else!”

“Or else, what? What are you going to do to me?”

The demon-princes were scattered throughout the entirety of the ornate, elaborate dining room, yet the collective sigh uttered by every mouth was a palpable hurricane churning in the air above them. A violent, fiery blush creeped into Levi’s neck, and Freya stilled her hand once more as he ducked his head in embarrassment.

She had to force herself not to sigh herself. “Relax, Levi. I’m not going to attack you.”

“Yes, hun, but that he wishes you would is the point,” said a voice from the opposite corner. A slash of daylight pierced through the window in front of him, illuminating the slender curve of his body. Even in that ridiculous costume. Asmodeus.

“If you know what I mean,” he finished. Freya didn’t have to look to know he was probably winking at them. The sunlight did nothing to illuminate the dripping sin of his voice.

Freya ignored the fresh wave of blood washing over Levi’s face, deepening the red even further. All that was needed was a quick blending of the brow-powder, and he’d be done, though if these idiots kept on rambling she wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to get him to hold still.

Even now, he seemed to vibrate in place, although he managed to keep himself in place enough to refrain from fidgeting. Freya worked as fast as possible, working as casually as she could without smudging the lines. If they could keep their mouths shut for once in their goddamn life--

“If what you mean is kissing, then yes. We do get what you mean. Levi, at least attempt to not think about it.”

xxx

read on AO3

xxx

…..

SATAN, you motherFU--

“No one is kissin’ ANYONE, do ya hear me!?”

“Oo-oh, how scandalous!! I want to see someone kiss!”

“Okay, tell me I didn’t wake up from a nap just to hear about Freya kissing someone!”

“Relax, Belphie. No one is kissing.”

“Ya damn straight, no one is kissing. Not ever! If Freya is kissin’ anyone it’s gonna be m--”

“Me! It’d be me! After all, who wouldn’t want to kiss me?”

“Enough.”

As Lucifer silenced the room, Freya shot Satan a glare, who returned the gesture with a grin so warm you’d never know how on purpose that truly was. What an arsonist. Truly. It was practically art.

The dining room was momentarily cast in shadow -- Freya looked beyond a mortified Levi to see a thick wall of cloud oozing across the sky. A frown tugged the corners of her lips down.

“All right, you lot,” said Lucifer. His voice crawled into the spaces around them like congealed molasses. “Clear out. Diavolo wants to start shooting as soon as possible.”

The most awkward of silences left the dining room charged and heavy, and all but Levi and Lucifer started towards the main hall.

Meanwhile, Freya wanted to be conscientious of his personal boundaries -- as he so often said he didn’t like to be touched -- but Freya wasn’t just about to let Levi leave after that. 

“Hey, look up for me one more time before you go.”

She and Lucifer made zero comments about how dark his skin had become in embarrassment -- magenta would be too fitting for comfort. Freya, in her peripherals, saw how Lucifer pretended to preen himself in a corner away from them, adjusting and then readjusting his feline costume so it couldn’t possibly fall any straighter or more crisp on the lines of his body.

Levi complied, absolutely rock-frozen as he titled his eyes to the ceiling. Even the inner workings of his jaw were inert with strain. 

“Did you know,” Freya began, dabbing ice-silver highlighter to his waterline, “That giraffes throw up on a regular basis?”

She was momentarily met with silence as Levi made himself unclench his teeth. “Giraffes?”

“Mhm. An animal in the human realm. Really long neck. Think of a horse with a snake-neck.”

“Whoa. That sounds like a final boss or something. If their neck is so long, how do they not suffocate then?” 

It was working -- his skin was clearing of blush, returning to a lovely cream-shade which she always thought brought out the gold in his eyes so well. Freya, in an effort to dispel some of his shame, didn’t meet his eyes when they gazed at her out of curiosity. She prodded the outside corner of his eye with the same highlighter, tapping the glimmer into place.

“Well… that’s what I wanted to know, so I researched it for awhile. They have a bunch of spaces in their stomach so as they digest food, they puke it up into their mouth and then eat it all over again. Bizarre, right?”

Levi’s subsequent grin made itself onto her face as well, though she was careful to still avoid his direct gaze. And, was that Lucifer’s cheeks lifted in the over corner over there, or was that her own imagination?

“That sounds like Beel,” he said, beaming at her.

“They were my favorite animal for awhile after that, just because I would always laugh when I thought of it. In an environmental class back home we studied this, and as soon as it was brought up, I just couldn’t stop laughing. I got kicked out of class.”

“OMG,” Levi said. “That is hilarious! LOLOL, like, I totally would’ve lost it too.”

“It’s ridiculous. But it does make me smile, even to this day. Maybe it’ll help you too now.”

Levi’s answer was something soft in his eyes, like a window being opened.

Freya snapped the ridiculously expensive highlighter palette closed, absentmindedly making a note to somehow manipulate Asmo into getting her one just like it. 

She tried to refrain from kissing anyone in the academy but that palette… perhaps kissing was not beneath her after all...

“‘Kay. You’re good to go!”

The clogged energy tangibly evaporated as they both righted themselves in the chairs, widening the amount of space between them. Levi didn’t look fully recovered -- his movements were a little too fast, a bit too premature. 

However, as he stood up to join the others, the dread from earlier wasn’t etched onto the crevices of his face, and he smiled before heading out the door.

“Thanks, Freya! Seriously.” He dashed through the entryway, the joyful spring under his feet practically palpable.

The next breath was drawn in through the nose. Freya turned to the impromptu makeup station Asmodeus had set up for her earlier in the morning once more.

“Okay, lurker,” she called out. “Sit your butt down before I decide I don’t want to do this anymore and set fire to the building so Diavolo will send me away.”

The waxed, polished, impeccable hardwood floors clapped his shoes in greeting with every intentional footfall. Even from the side while she retrieved more eyeshadow, she could see the grimace on his mouth. He was staring straight through her.

“Not funny.”

Freya couldn’t help but grin as she swiveled the chair to face him.

“It was funny, but we both know you wouldn’t admit it even if you agreed so let’s get to business, shall we?” Freya held up a pen of liquid eyeliner for him to see.

Lucifer made no further comment, but she could’ve sworn his jaw looked like it wanted to come undone in a smile, just for a second. He nodded, burgundy eyes locked onto her face.

“Scoot closer. This always sucks the most.”

When he complied, their legs were utterly entangled, each thigh resting lightly against the other’s. Freya didn’t stop or make a comment -- she knew the rules of the game with him and wasn’t going to lose because of that.

If anything, the contact excited her. She’d be close enough to catch any reaction he made, scrutinize every inch of his visage for a sign of victory. When one edge of his mouth lazily pulled to the side in the faintest smirk she’d ever seen, an impish gesture, she knew he was on the same wavelength.

Freya leaned in, closing the distance between their faces until the warm billows of his breath collided gently over her cheeks.

“Don’t mind me,” she said, bringing a hand to cup the cheek opposite the eye she was going to start on. “I have to steady myself because I had a lot of coffee this morning and I can feel myself about to have a seizure.”

Lucifer did smile at that, and she mirrored him as her fingers slipped through the hair at the back of his head. Silk. Fresh rain. A bubble of clouds. There didn’t seem to be a description accurate enough to articulate the softness of each strand. Her palm came to rest on his jaw.

The dick part of her wanted to ask what kind of conditioner he used, to purposely destroy the playful tension, if only to mitigate the effect the intimacy had on her. It was certainly a go-to, and she had half a mind to blurt it out when his expression suddenly changed.

“That was kind of you,” Lucifer murmured, and she could practically feel the heat of his red gaze wash through her, “What you did for Levi. Comforting him so as to not embarrass him further.”

An unwanted softness expanded in the pit of her belly and her hand momentarily haltered all movement. She drew back to look at him, and felt her waggish expression melt into something more like his own.

Freya’s gaze tugged down at their legs, spidered out in a flamboyant web of limbs. “I’m all for a good roast, but they should be more mindful with how often they pick on him. He already has super bad self-esteem.”

Lucifer grimaced as pain, sympathetic, cracked across her face. “That he does.”

“Makes me want to punch him,” she mumbled, almost inaudibly. Exhaling, Freya lifted the eyeliner pen to Lucifer once more, tracing a thin cat-eye along the edge of his lashes. 

“If he says that he’s too gross to love one more time, I will use our pact to make him do daily affirmations until he stops. I’m not above that.”

It was a while before Lucifer reacted to that, and a few moments of silence soothed the spaces around them. When he seemed to smile, Freya kept wordless and leaned in further, cleaning up the sharp edge of the wing at his eye. If she leaned in any further, her lips would brush across his cheek. Adrenaline flooded her belly.

“Not the worst way to exploit your authority, I suppose.”

“Hell yeah. Call me the demon-whisperer, improving internal dialogue one Avatar at a time.”

She withdrew her hand just in time -- Lucifer’s cheeks avalanched in the expansion of a smile, twisting his mouth until the ivory-white of his teeth was exposed. Another grin, another victory.

“Sounds like quite the endeavor.”

“Quite right, Watson. Okay, done with that,” Freya said, ignoring his momentary confusion and scooting herself back to the pile of makeup. She exchanged the eyeliner for a pastel palette before picking up a small, fluffy brush.

“All Diavolo wanted was a mutuality between species, and here you are trying to rehabilitate the princes of Hell into developing a more healthy sense of self,” he mused. 

Lucifer’s warm eyes lowered and tracked Freya’s movements as she closed in and began dabbing at his eyelids with a pale lavender color, which accentuated the darkness of his burgundy irises so nicely it was obscene.

Did she look as beautiful to him as he did to her?

“Oh, dear,” he chuckled. “Where did you go?”

It was just then that Freya realized she hadn’t been applying the makeup on him so much as she was staring at it.

“What’s wrong? Did the artistry of your own handiwork distract you?” His full lips twisted into a more mocking version of his earlier grin.

“Or is it simply my natural beauty you find so interesting?”

A low, humming laugh churned in the bottom of his throat as Freya’s nose wrinkled itself at him.

“Actually, I was just thinking that if this film wins first place, the entire Devildom will be witness to you and all of your furry glory.”

All of the mirth fled from Lucifer’s face as she spoke. Dark strands of aura collected around the crown of his head before winking out of existence. 

“It’s an exciting thought, right?”

When his eyelids lowered, Freya leaned back in, blending in a blue pastel with the first. The air around him sizzled with tension that dripped off of his body. “As the film stands, there is almost a statistical impossibility that it will win the competition,” he drawled. So confident. 

“So, basically, it’s a non-issue.”

“You really believe Diavolo -- or Barbatos for that matter -- who are obsessed with this project, couldn’t or wouldn’t pull strings in our favor?” The hand on his jaw exploded with invisible flame as she shifted it for no other reason than she wanted to--

Lucifer froze. Freya pretended to be absorbed in her work and readjusted her fingers -- a mere twitch of the extremity -- slipping several of them in the hollow under his ear while anchoring her thumb so that the pad of the fingertip framed the corner of his mouth.

A triumphant fanfare burst in her head. She got him, caught him off-guard. Enchanted him. The world was correct once more.

“Diavolo is a noble man,” she started, sweeping away the fallout with her knuckles. She caressed the soft skin under his eyes gently, with care. “But men like him -- the ones who proclaim to uphold truth and transparency…”

Lucifer did not move, even as she playfully tapped the tip of his nose with the makeup brush.

“Those are the ones you can’t trust.”

A few short moments passed before Lucifer spoke again.

“I don’t know what demons you’ve been hanging around,” he began, leaning forward an inch. “But some of us are perfect gentlemen.” 

He was playing with her. 

Do not look at his lips, do not look at his lips.

The brush in her hand lowered as Freya also leaned in, matching Lucifer’s bluff, and the crimson glow of his eyes was soon all she could see, rather than the eyes themselves.

“I’ve only met one perfect gentleman in my entire life. He was a golden retriever.”

She saw the curve of his eyes when he smirked.

“You clearly need better friends.”

“How fortunate I was kidnapped and brought here, then.”

“How fortunate, indeed.”

“Hey, are you guys going to kiss?”

The shock of the intrusion jolted both Lucifer and Freya, nearly pressing them together, so… maybe?

Lucifer recovered first, smoothly straightening in his chair like a candle wick burning true.

“What do you want, Asmo?”

Of course it was Asmo.

When Freya settled, returning the makeup brush to the tray, she saw Asmodeus hovering in the dining room’s entrance, the gold of his hair casting ethereal arcs of color across the archway.

His eyes were wide with curiosity. “Well, first, I want to see you kiss, but I also came to tell you Diavolo wants to start filming now.” Asmo’s gaze flickered back and forth between them.

“Tell Diavolo we’re on our way,” Lucifer said, saying nothing of the lewd request. After a tense moment and a hard glare, Asmo drifted off, the whites of his eyes revealed in an impressive arc.

“He realizes he can just kiss people, right?”

She couldn’t help but grin at the blank expression coating over Lucifer’s visage.

“He realizes,” Lucifer said. “It seems as if voyeurism is a big interest of his, however.”

Freya accidentally snorted. “I don’t know what isn’t.”

“Manners, perhaps.”

Someone sighed. Freya wasn’t sure if it was her or Lucifer. Eventually, the two shared a glance and his eyebrows rose in question.

“Is my makeup adequate enough for filming?” The brows remained high on his forehead, now teasing more than anything else.

Freya instinctively raked his features, looking for any asymmetrical flaws or lopsided shadow. There was nothing but a fleeting suspicion that it was only Lucifer’s immaculate complexion which completed the makeup, rather than the other way around. He wore the makeup, rather than the makeup highlighting the beauty already there. How ridiculous.

“One more thing, actually.”

The lazy affect warped into confusion, narrowing his features, and then awe, expanding them back again. Freya had darted in the space between their bodies, one finger somehow already dipped into a cherry-colored lip stain, and she began tapping the pigment onto Lucifer’s bottom lip, ignoring the way his mouth parted with shock.

“To match your eyes.”

He remained silent while he composed himself, drawing back his eyebrows and lips to a close. Freya forced her face to remain stoic -- the relish of eliciting these kinds of reactions was a special sort of drug, but to keep him playing along, she had to forfeit a few her victories to soften the blow to his ego. Demon of Pride and all. She was more than happy to keep up with him. Her giant ego demanded it.

As if he could hear her thoughts, Lucifer probed her gaze with his own, scrutinizing the miniscule movements her every facial feature made, but she gave away nothing. He was content to hold still until she was finished with him, smiling politely, the warmth not touching his eyes.

“And none for yourself?” he chirped.

Freya’s gaze darted to the makeup tray at her side, but a warm hand had gripped her chin and forced her head back to Lucifer. A swarm of butterflies awoke in her diaphragm.

“You dote on all of us so much,” he pronounced slowly, casually, bringing his thumb to his mouth. “But it seems as if you are often left wanting, isn’t that right?”

Heat so hot it was ice overturned her nervous system, bringing it to a halt. “It isn’t that bad. Beel buys me food. Asmo gives me clothes. Luke and Barbatos bake me whatever I want.”

Freya frantically attempted to memorize the feeling of his thumb brushing over her lips. Did he feel this tense when she’d done this, like a worn outlet ready to spark? She waited until he was satisfied to speak.

“I’d say I have it pretty good.”

Lucifer smirked, clearly unconvinced. He reached over her, grabbing a wipe from the table and cleaning his hand. Their faces were momentarily close once again, and the cologne from his neck wafted over her skin. So rich, like sandalwood, but faint at the same time. Noncommittal. It was a perfect scent for him.

When his gaze lowered to her mouth and back up again, she thought her form would explode.

“Hm. I’m not sure all of that’s an equal exchange, though.” He stared at her in bewilderment.

“... What?” Suddenly, she was too conscious of herself. Why did he look at her like that? Was he unsatisfied with the color or something?

She heard the roll of his stool before registering he’d placed his palms on her shoulders. They felt like boulders and feathers and as if they should be there all the time, keeping her from floating away in her wild fantasies of abandoning the human world so she could stay there forever. It was just like giraffes. Ridiculous… right?

“Your hair.”

Eh?

Lucifer’s eyes were sure and steady as they raked over her again and again.

“It should be down for the fight scene. When you faint, it should cover your face, create some symbolism there.”

… Interesting. She didn’t know he thought about details like that. Wasn’t this more of Asmo’s territory? Still, Lucifer had a point. She’d only braided that morning because it was convenient, getting too long and too curly for comfort.

“How dramatic,” she replied, chuckling at his sincerity. “You’re right, though. Obscuring the face makes a much bigger statement to the audience. Creates lots of tension.”

Lucifer’s knees knocked against hers, two entities floating alone in the ocean, and he moved his hands to the hair-ties at the end of her french braids. 

They were dexterous, slipping off the rubber and untangling the curls without tugging on a single one. Goosebumps seeped through her skin, giving her a full-body euphoria. 

If she was being honest, even this simple gesture had her feeling pampered, taken care of. It resembled nothing of the food or retail items she was frequently gifted with, although those were of course, appreciated.

No, this was like... communion. A merging of two. Freya found that she couldn’t muster a smirk or a smart-ass retort as Lucifer slipped his fingers through her hair, arranging it in perfect pieces that cascaded over her jaw. She felt she wanted to sleep instead. Take a nap. Fall asleep to the sensation of him there, soothing her into unconsciousness. 

Ah. Any feeling of victory disappeared in an instant. This was too close to real intimacy to be a game.

Lucifer adjusted the curls one final time before gently extracting himself from her space. There wasn’t any trace of mischief on his face either, or deception, or avarice. 

She caught herself absently grooming herself of invisible lint or stray hair in the moments after. It seems as if their communion was finished, and they were to get on with their mission for the day.

“Well,” Freya said, steadily rising to her feet. She extended a hand in his direction. “Ready to go to war over me?”

Lucifer’s subsequent smile radiated mirth. “Of course.” He curled his fingers around her palm and rose to face her.

“I always defend what is mine. To the death.”

An unexpected giggle erupted from him at the shock rapidly freezing her expression.

“I’m joking, Freya. I’m ready. Let’s do it.”

Lucifer jesting? How novel.

With her hand in his, they began making their way out of the dining room. The sun was out -- its light had finally defeated the storm clouds before it.

“Call me Helen, I guess.”

Their voices ricocheted off the elaborate carvings etched into the doorway.

“... You know the story of Troy, ri--”

“--Yes, Freya, I get the referen--”

“--Okay, cool. That would’ve been weird. I hate explaining jokes.”

#obey me #lucifer #mc x lucifer #shall we date #writing #fanfiction #mine #obey me lucifer #obey me levi #lucifer x reader #shall we date? obey me!

[league-of-thots]

YeeHawks

Pairing: Hawks x female reader

Word Count: 3.3k+

Warnings: 18+, alcohol, riding, is cowboy kink a warning?

A/N: not the way y’all wanted me to return, but the way y’all deserve lol. i didnt really have the energy to give it an in depth edit but sometimes it be like that

         You wipe the sweat from your brow, the sun is high in the bright, cloudless sky. It means that the heat is just pouring down in waves from the sky though, and you curse the fact that you’d agreed to switch shifts with one of the other farmhands that had asked you the day before. Part of you wants to find Kirishima and reem him out, but you know he’s a sweetheart and wouldn’t have ever done something that would make things harder for you on purpose.

         Having said that, imagining giving the man a piece of your mind makes it easier for you to grit your teeth and put your back into heaving large packets of grains into a wheelbarrow for the pigs, so that you wouldn’t have to make as many trips. Instead, it would just be one hellish trip, and a lot less walking in the heat.

         Wiping the stray dirt on your pants you sigh. You feel sticky and can feel the grit on your face, on your arms. You must smell something fierce, though you know compared to the pigs you’d be feeding in a few minutes, you smelt like a bed of flowers.

         You feel the strain on your back as you finally finish loading the wheelbarrow and start to haul it over to the south side of the Academy farm. The ground is rough, and you feel the jarring of the weight in your shoulders, you’re going to be so sore tomorrow.

         After you finish feeding the pigs, you take the supplies back to where they belong and head off to start some of your final tasks of the day. One is milking the cows, and the other being your favourite, plowing some of the dirt to prepare for the new season.

         Is it a bit stupidly cliché that you love riding the big tractor while the sun lowers in the sky? Maybe. Is it worth it? Absolutely. It’s one of the best views you’ve seen in your life. Plus, it always helps clear your mind from a day of hard work so that when you enter one of the farmhouses, you’re ready to do whatever else you need to get done.

         When you park the tractor back to its spot in the barn, you see a few of the other farmhands talking together. They’re laughing with one another, and you wave to them as you walk out with your overcoat and keys.

         You’re in a daze until you realize you’ve somehow already started up a warm shower, standing under the steam to relieve your body from the stress of the day. Your muscles feel so much better with the hot water on them and the steam makes you feel as if you’re in stasis. It’s good because tomorrow is going to be a big day, the August festival, a celebration that the community holds as a sort of last hurrah before the season gets busy once again.

         After you’re clean and put together, you head downstairs to have a quick conversation with the couple other farmhands that share the house with you. You need to check if there’s anything else you need to do to help with the final preparations for tomorrow. The four of you had made some homebrew cider to share with the other townspeople, and it tasted quite good, despite being a little heavy on the alcohol. But nobody would be complaining about that, of course.

         “Mmm, I think its fine.” Mina says, faced scrunched up in thought. “We did pretty well with it for sure.”

         “I agree,” you reply. “Just wanted to make sure I could pass out for the night. I’m fucking dead.” She laughs a little at that.

         “Gotta make sure you have the energy for tomorrow. I hear that it’s going to be extra wild.” She waggles her eyebrows. “You know that there’s going to be a horse-ridin’ performance from our sheriff’s department, but there’s also gonna be some cowboys over here to show off some of their skills too.”

         You’re slightly intrigued at that. Maybe, you’ll even get to see him again… but, better not get your hopes up too much. Instead, you say, “That would definitely be a treat for all the hard work that this year’s been.”

         Mina nods sagely at that. “If I see that blonde, twink of a cowboy I’m goin’ to make him my bitch. Because I deserve it.” That brings a snort out of you, but you pray a little for Denki if you do see him tomorrow, because lord knows he’s going to need it.

         The two of you chat for a little while longer before you wish her a good night and head up to get some rest. You do have a busy day to get ready for after all.

           You wake up early the next day, ready to quickly get your tasks done so you can let loose with friends and community members that night. You wish that you don’t have to do any work, but you can’t have everything you want.

         So, you drag yourself out of bed, muscles tight and body sore, to quickly grab a protein bar and a cleaner pair of working clothes. Your overalls are starting to sport holes and there are some dark stains that just won’t ever come off. You need new ones, you think, as you walk towards the horse pen.

         You love the horses, how sweet most of them are and how peaceful it is in their separated area. It’s especially nice in the early morning, with a crisp breeze and the sun peeking out on the horizon. You grab the feed mix that someone had mixed the day before and drag it over to the troughs, where there are already some of the animals waiting for you to arrive. The horses have learned to expect people in the morning, and some of the more assertive ones wait at the fence to be the first ones to get to eat.

         While they feed, you prepare the cleaning tools inside the small stable that is connected to the fenced off pen. You take each horse that’s finished eating into the small shelter to clean their hooves, brush out their mane and body, and then your favourite part, riding them for a few laps of the enclosure to make sure they run a bit each day.

         It’s while you’re dismounting a cute mare named Starlight when you hear a low whistle from behind you. Someone’s obviously been watching you, and sitting there just outside the enclosure.

“Damn, baby, wonder if you could ride me as good as those horses there.” You feel a vein ticking in your head as you recognize the voice. He’s supposed to be getting ready for the group event, not bothering you while you try to get some fucking work done before you can finally relax and celebrate.

         You turn your body and inwardly groan as your suspicions are confirmed, sitting there waiting is a certain cowboy who’s always managed to piss you off greatly every time one of his short visits brings him to the UA farms.

         “Hello, Hawks.” You grit your teeth as you move towards the next horse that you’re about to take care of.

         “I’m wounded, really, that you don’t sound pleased ta see me, angel.” There’s a satisfied smirk on his face. He really does get off on toying around with you and seeing how much he can piss you off. So, you take a deep breath and calm yourself.

         “Now, why would you expect anything different? I haven’t forgotten the last time you came aroun’-“

         He waves you off. “You’re bein’ ridiculous. It was a harmless joke.”

         “I had to clean the stables for TWO WEEKS.” He just laughs at your anger, totally unphased. It grinds your gears more, the cheeky grin on his face that charms everyone around him, whittling down your intense irritation.

         “Well, if anythin’ everyone else certainly enjoyed it.” You grumble out some choice words about him, making sure they’re loud enough for him to here, as you start brushing out the mane of the mare in front of you. He seems pleased with himself, leaning on the fence, head on his hands.

         “Do you not have somewhere to be? Something you should be practicing for?” He lazily waves away your attempts to get him away from the work you’d like to finish up.

         “Who needs practice? I know exactly what I’ve gotta do so there’s no real reason for me to waste my energy before the actual performance.” He says it with a casual arrogance, that you know comes from years of experience and absolute confidence in his abilities. “The only thing I wanna do right now is try all of the good I know y’all made for the party tonight.”

         You give him an unimpressed look. “Just because we know each other does not mean that I’m going to just give you the cider meant for the community.” He pouts “You can try it when everyone else does later.”

         “Yeah, but we have a special connection.” He grins and you splutter, embarrassed and trying to put away the memories of your bodies pressed together and calloused fingers in your cunt.

         “Jesus, Hawks. Shut up.” You look around furtively, checking to see if anyone would’ve overheard.

         “You like me loud.” God, his smug look makes you feel hot and bothered.

         “Get outta here so I can finish my work, damn it.” He just laughs, turning around before turning back.

         “You better save me some of the goodies y’all made up for after the performance.”

         “Yeah, whatever,” you grumble, face flushed and mind now distracted with memories of Hawks’ hands tangled in your hair.

           “Well, now. This is delicious.” Your eyes follow his tongue that darts out to lick the drop of the cider that had dripped onto his lips. You’d made sure to fill a plate up with the treats that had been spread around the outdoor tables, lanterns hung up around them not only for ease of finding them, but also to light up the evening. “You helped make this?”

         “Yup. You wouldn’t believe how difficult it was between never having done it before and Mina’s enthusiasm. God bless Momo, without her we wouldn’t have gotten it done.” He laughs, and you can’t help that you can’t keep your eyes off of him.

         He was slightly sweaty from his earlier performance, which had been perfectly executed, tank top tucked into worn jeans with a feather-like buckle. His eyes are scanning the crowd around as the two of you lean on the outside of the saloon, the inside being too filled with inebriated or high adults to even try to squeeze into a seat.

         “So, how’s life been around here since I last visited?” he asks between bites of some spicey brisket, obviously enjoying it.

         “Ah, not much. Just the usual social drama. Actually, Shinsou almost got his dick sliced off by some machinery someone had fucked around with. I swear to god that man has the worst luck I’ve ever seen.”

         “Holy shit, sure does sound like it.”

         “But yeah, it’s just living day to day for me now. Not much new happens out here, as you very well know.” He shrugs.

         “Might as well see. What’s even keeping you here, then?”

         “Not everyone needs to be on the road their whole life to be happy, Hawks.”

         “I suppose. More cider?”

         “Sure.”

           You’ve drank way too much, you know that. But the fuzziness in your head just makes you want to keep going, to have fun and make up for all the time you lose working long hours every day.

         Besides, Hawks is there beside you, egging you on and matching you drink for drink. His hands always seem to be on your body, either squeezing your ass, wrapped around your shoulders or waist. It makes you feel warm, and you know he’s teasing you, trying to rile you up. He wants to see how bothered he can make you before you snap and drag him off to some private place.

         You’re determined to beat him out though. So, you lean into his body space and trace your hands over his arms, the insides of his wrists. You hear his breath hitch, though his attention is kept on whatever conversation is happening in front of you.

         Of course, this is Hawks, who has just as much patience as a saint, despite being as far from one as possible. But you’re drunk and turned on and the teasing is too much for you to handle, so when there’s a brief pause in the activity around the two of you, you pull him down so you can whisper in his ear how much you want him.

         He grins, “Might as well head back to your place then.” You agree and drag him with you.

         The moment you’re in the house, you wrap your arms around his neck so you can bring his lips to yours. Its messy and rushed, but it’s relieving at the same time. The two of you have done this enough in the few times that he passes through that he’s comfortable enough to let you take charge for a bit.

         “You can’t even wait ‘til we’re upstairs, sugar?” he chuckles, drawing out each word. You feel the rumble of them, pressed up as you are against his chest.

         “Shut up, Hawks.” You grumble, pulling him towards your room if that’s what it’ll take to get his dick out faster.

         After rushing in the room, you kick the door shut behind you and immediately get back to kissing him. This time, he makes more of an effort to assert himself, holding your face in his hands and licking into your mouth. You sigh into him, your hands finding his heated skin beneath his shirt as the pace slows down from the frantic rush it had been. It becomes sensual, and you can feel him getting more aroused as he slowly shifts his hands, starting to grind into you.

         You pull away from him, getting some air as you start to take off his shirt. He enthusiastically moves to help and you get to admire his muscles stretch as he does. Obviously, life constantly on the road does wonders for your abs.

         “You too, sugar. You’re gonna make me feel underdressed.” He says as he moves to take off the rest of his garments. A laugh slips out of you as you hastily get out of your outfit. When you turn your attention back to him, he’s sitting on the bed and he gestures for you to join him.

         When you do, he kisses you again, intensely, as he guides you onto your back. You sigh as he kisses down the side of your jaw to mark your neck, reaching blindly for the lube and condoms beside the bed.

         He quickly slides it on and you hear the squelching of lube as he moves in a rush. You don’t have time to make fun of him though, because as soon as he’s finished, he spreads your legs and puts the head of his dick at your entrance.

         He groans, closing his eyes as he enters you, and its uncomfortable for a little bit. Soon enough though, you relax, and start to feel great as he moves his hips slowly against you. Hawks fucks deeply, you know this from your times before, but each time it feels just as tantalizing as the last.

         “Hawks, please.” You pant, trying to wiggle a little bit just to get some friction, some tiny relief for the edging you’ve been through. He just gives you a smirk, as he keeps you completely locked between him and the mattress. You tense so hard he groans on top of you, but he doesn’t let you move, dick still sitting snug inside your cunt.

         “Well, let’s see those barebacking skills you were showin’ off earlier then, hmm?” he says, his voice low and gruff. With ease, he gets the both of you turned around so you’re now sitting with your ass on his thighs, hands clamped tight on your waist keeping you in place while he lays back on the headboard. He nods satisfactorily, looking you up and down with lidded eyes. “Y’know, I like this view much better, baby. What a pretty picture you make right on top of me.” Part of you wants to roll your eyes, but the warmth that his words give you makes the impulse disappear.

         “You know, Hawks, in order for me to show you said skills, you’re going to have to let me move.” He laughs as you try and lift yourself against the pressure he’s putting, obviously unable to really do anything. “Seriously, you dick, lemme move.”

         “But the face you make when I play these little games with you is so cute, sugar.” He’s got a faux innocent smile across his face and you pout and cross your arms in response. “Okay, okay, I’m done. I promise,” he says, letting off all the pressure, but keeping the two of you connected at the hips.

         “Thank you.” you quip, starting a quicker pace than the one Hawks had been setting, gravity still making it just as deep as before.

         Being drunk obviously makes Hawks that much louder, or maybe it’s the change up in position, you can’t be sure. But, his praises, his deep moans, the lewd noises from the slapping of your body against his hips, it all makes you feel hot as hell.

         You look down, seeing Hawks’ eyes widened and excited, he grins when he notices your look and begins to rock up into you. You throw your head back in as he hits deep within you, crying out his name. Hearing it obviously enthuses him as he grunts in exertion, starting to thrust upwards harder, and you feel your body responding, muscles tightening as you get closer to your climax.

         “God, you’re gorgeous like this, y’know?” he gets out through gritted teeth. “I’m not going to be able to last much longer…” He’s panting, fingers digging into your hips sharply, sure to leave marks.

         “Please, I wanna cum Hawks!”

         “Tell me what you need, sugar, I’ll give it to you.” Hearing that makes you smile, he was always so attentive to your needs.

         “Touch me…”

         “You gotta tell me where for that.” Even when so close to his climax, somehow, Hawks manages to be cheeky. However, when he’s fucking you this well, it’s much easier to let the teasing roll off your back.

         “My clit, Hawks. You do know what that is, right?” He lets out a genuine laugh at that, before sending one hand down towards the bundle of nerves.

         It’s enough, between the stimulation and the deep thrusts into your cunt, that you feel yourself tighten and cry out, cumming hard onto his cock. You lean into him, kissing him hard as pleasure courses through your body.

         He works you through it, breathing heavily, you can feel his pulse skittering under your hands. You feel him twitch within you, and an idea forms in your mind. Mind wrapped up in pleasure, you act on the thought immediately, bringing your hands to his chest to play with his nipples.

         He loves it, making keening noises as you work, legs shaking with effort to stay up and keep pace with him. You let him take the lead and you hear him shout and arch up as you pinch his buds, feeling him release.

         He thrusts a couple more times, lazily and slowly, kissing the top of your head as you settle down to lie on his chest for a few minutes.

         You breath deeply, content in the moment. You know after you clean up and rest, he’ll be gone on the road once again, so you relax, enjoying the presence.

#jays writes #Smut #hawks x reader

[iwantitiwriteit]

Love Lockdown - Part 2

Big Girl With a Brave Face

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Summary: You brace yourself for your FaceTime with Chris.

Warnings: Angst, Pandemic backdrop, Profanity

Notes: More heart strumming feels! Read the previous part! Gonna try and put these up on Monday’s starting next week 8/10, along with In My Feelings Monday™, when my asks will be open for all your romantic musings! Let’s get sweet and sappy y’all! I know you wanna 🥰 

The sun shines down, a crisp wind whisking by you every so often; applause for your hard work in the garden. You found a circadian rhythm. Grasp, pull, dump. Grasp, pull, dump. It afforded you an opportunity to get lost in thought… and memory. 

You just don’t get it, do you?

Baby, I want to!

Why didn’t you say anything?

Would it have mattered?

I think we can both agree we need the space…

We need to talk…

I love you.

I love you too.

“Are you okay Aunty?” Iris’ innocent voice drifts into your trance but doesn’t break it completely.

You absentmindedly respond. “Uh huh. Why do you ask?”

“Probably ‘cos you're pulling at those weeds so ferociously I think you might’ve got a few good plants,” Ines answers for her younger sister, the teenage ‘tude snapping you to reality.

You assess your handiwork and sure enough, in your pile of weeds, some good plants lie there with them, undeservedly plucked from the earth. “Oh, my bad,” you sheepishly apologize.

“It’s okay. The only difference between a weed and a flower is judgment. Here,” Ines shuffles over to your spot. 

“Ines, you’re wise beyond your years, you know that?” You stand up, placing your palms on your lower back, arching and stretching in a moment of respite. Looking over your nieces tending to the greenery you botched, their youthful vigor bring a genuine smile to your face. Those have been few and far in between these days. 

“I know, right? Could you tell my mom for me?” she kids, making you laugh. “It couldn’t have been that long since it was you and Mama doing this,” Ines smirks at you briefly before refocusing on rerooting.

You chuckle, “Ha! Feels like a lifetime ago. But, yeah, it really hasn’t been that long. Guess I just kinda lost touch.”

“Do you miss it? Do you miss being here?” Iris asks. 

“Umm… honestly?” The both of them look up at you, eyes wide and expectant. “I thought I didn’t. L.A. can be blinding in that way. But now that I’m here, I feel a little more… myself. Not to mention that I’ve missed you girls soo much! C’mere!”

A niece under each arm, hugging your middle tightly, you can feel how much they’ve missed you as well. You want to be a better aunt to them. Your love for your family is as expansive as the family farm you marvel at in front of you. Acres of green going beyond the quaint garden near the house, with the barn just behind the rustic office and rec building where the farmers are currently gathered for lunch just a few feet away. But your feelings were much like half your sister’s employees as of late; they didn’t show, especially in crisis.

Through one of the windows, you catch sight of a familiar profile; hand to his temple pressing deep into his smooth, mahogany skin, thick, dark brows knitted together in concentration, plump lips puckered as he writes furiously, occasionally taking a bite of his sandwich. He must feel your eyes because he looks up to meet them, breaking focus from his working lunch. The hand that was to his temple is now raised for a tentative wave, just as the corner of his mouth is raised for a beautiful, sweet smile. 

Your shoulders tense, your wave is curt, and your smile is barely there. You avert your eyes not wanting to see the effect of your abrupt actions. 

“I know Keith is glad you’re back, too.” You look down to see Iris looking up at you, her 10 year old face contorted into her best suggestive look. 

Ines rolls her eyes at her sister’s antics, “Oh, stop it! She’s already got the most perfect, dreamy boyfriend, remember?”

“Well, I’ve never met him. Have you? How do we know if he’s even real?”

“She’s got a point. Why haven’t we met him yet?”

“If he thinks he's too good to come down south, meet your family, let me tell you something Aunty, that’s not the kind of man you should be with.”

“I don’t think Aunty had ‘take dating advice from a child’ on her quarantine to-do list. Maybe he’s just busy; he is a movie star— correction— a superhero! Superhero equals stable income, stable income means husband material. Simple math.”

“Well, Keith has a stable and would never be too busy for her!”

“Keith runs a stable… a horse stable. Not exactly a selling point, right Aunty?”

“Aunty, tell her she’s wrong!”

The girls get to bickering and you wipe your forehead, not too sure if it’s from the heat or the interrogation you’re enduring. You check your watch. 1:39 pm.

“Shit!” Your exclamation silences your nieces as they whip their heads towards you. “Sorry ladies,” you offer an apologetic smile for the obscenity. “I, uh, gotta get ready for a call. Let’s turn it in early, yeah?” They race in the house without a second thought, and you trail behind them.

You remove your shoes in the mud room, then stalk down the hall toward the main part of the house. You wave to your sister as you pass her home office where she’s pacing, busy on the phone, swamped in paperwork. She waves you over with a confused face and shrugs as she sees her girls buzzing around.

You go to lean in the door jamb of her office as she asks, “What brings y’all inside so early? Wasn’t expecting you to be back in for another couple hours.”

“I have that FaceTime call at 2 I gotta get ready for, remember?”

“Right, right… remind me again. It’s for a writing gig?” she asks, sifting through her mountain of papers, as distracted as she was this morning when you told her your afternoon plans.

“Uh, no. It’s um, with… Chris,” your voice trails off with each word.

Your sister whips her head around, interest now piqued. “Really? That’s good, right?”

You shrug and sigh, indifference in your expression, “It’s, y'know… whatever, Mina.”

Wilhelmina furrows her brows, “What’s wrong?” Before you could contemplate an excuse, she puts a finger up to you, “Yes, thank you, I’m trying to get in touch with…” she answers to the person on the other line.

Your watch buzzes with your 15 minute reminder for your FaceTime with Chris. “I gotta go,” you tell your sister, before turning to head upstairs. The ascension to the second level feels like a death march, the impending doom of your relationship finally setting in. Each step feels increasingly weighted. Once at the top of the staircase, you pinch the bridge of your nose as if that will alleviate your anxieties. 

“Let’s get you ready,” Wilhelmina’s maternal voice drifts to you as she comes up the stairs, melting your nerves a little. She shoots you a pity smile before ushering you into your guest room, where you make a B-line for the bathroom.

You take your time and delicately wash away the grime and sweat from your face. It’s like a Neutrogena commercial, the way you come up from the sink, staring yourself in the mirror. You take note of the creases in your forehead caused by your tense brows, the pain in your eyes, your overall sullen expression. And this feeling. This feeling is like being suspended mid-air, knowing the dreadful drop was any minute now.

You know very well who is in control of the drop. You just don’t know when you gave up that control to him. The only thing you can do now is go with grace. In an effort to have some sense of control, you did what anyone in your situation would do: You turned to Google.

“what to do when your boyfriend is about to break up with you” is what you typed into the search engine this morning. You felt like a teenager. Young and dumb. Like you’d never been in a relationship before. Like you’d never been broken up with before. None of this is new. And yet, it is. You hadn’t been here before. You hadn’t known this feeling before.

The feeling of knowing the one to make the dreadful drop happen is the same one that you love more than you knew was even possible, and damn did it hurt like hell. But could it have hurt more than knowing you’re the one that brought him to this point? Especially when you know these deep feelings are requited? The love is requited.

Who knows. You just file these feelings away for later in the hopes that it’ll inspire your pen. Right now it’s time to put on a brave face. You’ve gotten so good at it.

“So, what brought this on?” Wilhelmina inquiries after a few minutes of you lollygagging in front of the bathroom mirror.

“Oh, umm… well, he called last night. It was the first time we talked since—”

“You got here.” 

“Yeah, but who’s counting,” your deadpan earns you a disapproving look from your sister. You’ve learned to ignore it. You check the time. 5 til. “Ugh, I don’t have time to pretty myself up. Breakups are ugly anyways; guess I’ll have to be, too,” you joke, leaving Whilelmina bewildered.

“Wait, what? You’re dumping him? I know it’s tough, trust me, I get it, but—”

“No... he’s gonna dump me,” you correct her.

“What would make you think that?”

“I don’t know, maybe cos he said ‘we need to talk… for real’,” you mock his deep voice; it’s how you read his text last night in your head, “and we all know what that means…”

“Hold up, it doesn’t necessarily mean that!”

“C’mon Mina! It’s textbook breakup prep!”

“Maybe for a teenager, but he’s a grown ass man. If he says he wants to talk, he probably just wants to talk.”

“Yeah, about dumping you…” Ines mumbles under her breath from the doorway. Wilhelmina stares daggers into her mouthy daughter, and she shrinks away to mind her business.

You continue to get ready, mainly focusing on laying your edges before finding a new shirt. “So, why would he suggest we quarantine separately knowing we had issues we were working on?” you debate your sister.

“Because like he said: you need some space. Totally normal for maintaining a healthy relationship.”

“Is it though? Cos when I say “I need space”, I’m thinking about making an exit. And that’s on a good, non-pandemic day. Hell, our issues alone would make me bow out. Now you add this stressful shit on top?”

“Then why haven’t you?”

Her simple question makes you stop in tracks, your brave face wavering for just a moment. “B-Because— it doesn’t matter. He’s ending things with me, in,” you check the time, “3 minutes. And I don’t blame him! I’ve been a mess lately! An emotional wreck lately! You should’ve heard me last night, it was gross!”

Wilhelmina starts to chuckle at your dramatics, but you can tell she’s laughing at you, not with you. “What’s so funny?”

“Sweetheart, you’d have to show emotions to be an emotional wreck. I think you skipped a few steps.”

“Whatever,” you roll your eyes as you peel off your sweaty shirt and toss it in the laundry basket. You take your wash cloth to dab your underarms before putting on a nicer top. A proper shower will have to wait til later.

“I’ll have you know that I do, in fact, have emotions. I just channel them into my writing, to avoid sapping them all over any- and everyone… like some people I know,” you quirk your brow and tilt your head in Wilhelmina‘s direction.

“Girl, whatever! From what you told me, Chris is as much a romantic as I am, maybe even more so. You don’t hate it as much as you let on. Just admit it.”

You slowly turn away from Wilhelmina to primp yourself in the full length mirror. She follows you, glaring at you in hopes she will break you down. You decide to throw her a bone.

“Last night, I told him how we should’ve been together right now. There was even a quiver in my voice because I do really, really miss him. It was all so, so...” Your sister’s hands are clutching her chest, eyes glazed like she was watching a romcom. She’d finally gotten through to you. “… so pathetic.” Or so she’d thought. The sound of frustration that came from her amused you greatly, your eyes now glazed from crying of laughter. 

“See, that’s what the hell I'm talking about! If he brings emotion— vulnerability— out of you, why do you resist? He’s worth keeping around, sis. I would think you: an artist, a writer for god’s sakes, would find some value in that.”

You stare straight ahead, fixing imaginary stray curls in your hair, and avoiding eye contact with Wilhelmina. She awaits your response, brows raised, neck craned toward you, hands below her chest with palms up, as if to say ‘Sooo...???’. You wondered how long she’d stay like that before you said something. “Are you done?”

Your sister sighs, and it’s quickly followed by ringing from your laptop. You both look in its direction, then at each other. The moment you’d been bracing for all day is here. You hesitantly move towards the chair at your desk where your laptop is sat. 

“I’ll leave you to it,” Wilhelmina says before excusing herself. You almost didn’t want her to go. But you’ve got to be a big girl with a brave face.

“One last thing?” you twist in your chair to look at her in your doorway, “I know who made you believe that big girls don’t cry, but it’s bullshit. It’s good to feel. It’s okay to show it sometimes, too. Especially with the ones who showed and proved they won’t judge you for it,” she motions to your still ringing computer before closing your door.

You turn back to your desk, swallowing thickly. Here goes. You answer the call and Chris’ smiling face fills your screen. That beautiful face that’s worth doing right by.

“Hey baby! For a second there, I thought you wouldn’t answer,” he nervously chuckles. 

You smile at him but it doesn’t reach your eyes. He senses your apprehension. Even through a screen, he’s perceptive. Chris starts to small talk, rambling about work and the weather, intending to ease your guard down before getting to the tough stuff. But it’s absolutely painful pretending to be strangers. 

“Chris?”

“Yes honey?”

“I don’t wanna do this with you.”

Part 3

#chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fan fiction #chris evans imagine #chris evans one shot #Chris Evans series #chris evans x black reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x poc!reader #chris evans angst #chris evans x woc #chris evans series #chris evans #love lockdown series

[cxmetery-gates]

OBSESSIVE TEACHINGS - DARK!TOM HIDDLESTON

CHAPTER FIVE: COFFEE AND TINDER

SUMMARY: Lynn and Gabriel have a heart-to-heart talk about her last lover, with Gabe offering barely-legal suggestions. WORD COUNT: 2.45k NOTES: Gabe is probably my favorite character WARNINGS: dark!tom hiddleston, teacher!tom hiddleston, mentions of past relationships, break-up talk, h*tler reference?? never thought i’d write that

OBSESSIVE TEACHINGS MASTERLIST

THE SOUND OF A BELL alerts the classroom that the period is over. Everyone had been already packed and ready to go minutes before Mr. Hiddleston even began wrapping up his lesson. Even when I suffered through chemistry or dragged my deflated soul through finance, I never thought of putting my notes and pens away so soon. I know more than one student saw the icy glare I sent across the room but, most importantly and unfortunately, I also know nearly all of them didn't catch the slight disappointment in Mr. Hiddleston's tone.

I truly despise most people.

From the moment class started, it's been so unmistakably clear how much he loves what he teaches, that he enjoys what he spent thousands of dollars on just to show people how great literature is. I understand that all too well— save the going into debt part. Teachers are often times so mundane with their knowledge, not realizing how the way they present the information affects our understanding and interest in such. This is why high school teachers are stereotyped as people who just want a paid summer vacation. However, Mr. Hiddleston really put effort into his theatrics, like his lecture was a play. People with a teaching degree should teach in this way— why else go penniless willingly? The overall excitement was entertaining. And for that, I have to give the man some credit.

"Alright, guys. We'll be diving into the second part of this lecture tomorrow. Have a good one, you are dismissed." I don't think Mr. Hiddleston needed to announce the last blip of his closing statement. As I said, people are so rude.

Ellie begins to shove her notepad and other items into her bag after our teacher finishes speaking, reminding me of my kind company. I, on the other hand, am scrambling to take the last bit of notes, trying to relay any possible concepts mentioned on to paper. While there might not have been much depth in today's class, jotting down every last tidbit of information could be life or death. Or perhaps I'm just anal-retentive when it comes to note-taking. By the time I finish the note, Ellie is already standing.

"Girl, hurry up. We gotta go!" She drags out the last vowel of the last word humorously.

I wave my hand at her, flipping pages and dodging paper cuts. "Go on without me. I'll be fine," I say, remembering that Ellie's homeroom is on the first floor and the farthest down the hall.

Rolling her big brown eyes, she sighs, walking backward. "I'll miss you poppet. I love you." Her fake British accent is terrible, but I don't bother enlightening her. Perhaps the slight discoloration in her cheeks and how fast she dashed out of the room was due to finding Mr. Hiddleston in ear-shot of her terrible accent. I bite my lip, forcing myself to look away out of sheer second-hand embarrassment.

Once all my belongings are together, I turn to leave.

"That truly was an awful mockery," Mr. Hiddleston says in my direction from the whiteboard. His long toned arms wipe the marker away as I begin to walk past him.

I chuckle. "I'll let her know you said that."

Mr. Hiddleston fakes a groan, placing the eraser on the marker tray then turning to face me with those oh-so-charming eyes. There's no other way to describe them other than mesmerizing. "Oh, don't tell her I said it. I like being liked."

"Being 'liked' is the least of your worries with these girls," I mumble, mostly to humor myself. However, I must have been louder than anticipated. The innuendo is heard and doesn't fly over his head.

A titter of a laugh is heard from the man, and I now regret the words I mumbled. "So I have been told," he replies, making a slightly uncomfortable face. I can't blame him; anyone would feel incredibly awkward if teaching a class full of people who would sell both kidneys just to see them without a shirt.

Not in my dreams would I have imagined having a conversation with Mr. Hiddleston about how everyone wants to nail him. While such a phrase hasn't been explicitly noted, I have a feeling both our minds are in the same gutter. And with that recognition, an awkward heat embraces me. I press my lips together tightly and offer a shrug. "I think the proper thing for me to say is good luck."

Seeming to take my word, Mr. Hiddleston passes me a smile. I can't read what the meaning is, but I'll take it nonetheless with a cough to clear my throat. "Ah, well, as much as I love juicy gossip and scandals, I've got a stuck up prune for homeroom, so I definitely need to get going." I send him a wave, making my exit as awkward as possible.

"Warntz?" He asks.

My nose wrinkles at the name. It eve sounds terrible, almost as terrifying as Trunchbull or Umbridge. "You betcha."

"Good luck, Lynn. You've got two minutes."

I want to give another sassy remark, but the teasing look I find when I look over my shoulder sends my body into another blush. Muttering something close to 'whatever,' I decide that leaving is for the best, even if that means awaiting an angry, shriveled up raisin.

══════════════════

Exiting the high school front doors a few hours before the final bell is like the biggest sigh of relief and 'sucks to be you' to everyone else. An arm wraps around my shoulder, one I embrace kindly.

"So, we've got an hour on our hands," Gabriel reminds me, hinting we'll have to come back to grab Ellie and River. As he speaks, I toss my head back on his toned bicep. I swear he works out too much for an unpopular loser. "What would you like to do?"

I groan, dragging my chin down to my chest. "Why do I have to decide? You know I hate making decisions."

"We're taking second lunch here, Lynn. It isn't life or death, you weirdo," Gabe chortles.

"Can we just go get a coffee? I feel like I'm about to pass out." For effect, I pretend to faint, nearly going complete limp before his arms can hoist me back up.

Rolling his dark eyes, my partner in crime pulls a set of keys from his pocket, swinging the lanyard around his fingers while we head towards a tattered white truck being held together by zip ties, duct tape, and love. "You and Elle with your coffee addiction."

"Could be meth," I retort.

Snorting, Gabe slips a key into the slit on the driver's side. I stand on the opposite, sending a humored smile. "Yeah, as if that's any worse."

We make it to the local coffee shop in no time. Luckily for us, the lunch rush hour in this town ends just as we hit the road if we avoid the main highways that is. Gabe's truck and the coffee shop have a similar aesthetic: crowded, old, falling apart with an overwhelming sense of home and personality. I can't count how many times I've broken down and received well off advice from him in both locations. It feels safe here and being around him. Gabe's like the much older brother (by a month) that I never had. We're both complete, utter assholes to each other about 60% of the time, enforcing the sibling-like bond we have.

"Thank you," I say sweetly to the barista as he places my cold brew in front of me and Gabe's hot chocolate in front of him. Mimicking my gratitude, Gabe gives his thanks as the employee shuffled away, awkwardly patting at his frizzy hair.

We both take a sip and visibly relax. "So, the first day of our last year of high school." Gabe is also the mom friend. "Tell me, dear, how were all your classes?"

"Oh, dearest mother, I feel so content with my choices," I reply with a vintage accent, acting as though my voiced popped in from the 1920s. "How ever will I pick a favorite?"

Wiggling his brows, Gabe replies, "I hear someone landed themselves in the hottest teacher's class."

Prompting to return to my normal voice, I roll my eyes, a huff expelling from my diaphragm. "He's definitely a piece of eye candy, I'll tell you that."

"Took four years to figure that one out? I didn't realize unobservant you are." Taking a pause, Gabe brings to smirk widely. "Maybe that's why you haven't asked River out yet."

My eyes grow wide, my skin goes red. Looking at anywhere other than Gabe's eyes and smirking lips is a must. "I don't know—"

"Lynn, everyone knows."

"Sure, but he doesn't." I pause. "Wait, does he?"

"Dude, no, of course, he doesn't. He still thinks you're heartbroken over Trinity."

Ah, yes, Trinity. Who knew a happy year and two months could be wholly demolished beyond reconciliation in a single weekend? Certain not I, as I have spent the past three months moving on and over the ordeal. An annoyed grunt leads my cheek to rest in my fist. "He thinks I'm not over it?"

Gabe leans forwards. "None of us do, Lynn."

I stay silent.

"What happened... you didn't deserve that. Hell, Hitler wouldn't have deserved that. Probably."

"Weeeeell—"

"Point is, I know you're still trying to find a way to heal. You've done a damn good job, duh. But River thinks you're still in love with her."

"Ugh. I'd rather eat hairy horse shit than see her ever again."

Gabriel nods, "I was hoping that would be the case."

Knocking my knuckles on the wooden table, I let out an exaggerated sigh. "Man, I'm tired."

"You know we're all here for you, right?" Gabe asks, leaning in just a few inches. I want to roll my eyes, tell him that he worries too much, but I can't. I can't tell him, not because I want him to shut up or to change the topic, but because he knows me. To Gabe, I'm an open book.

I run out of words to say relating to the topic. The breakup is old news, everything following the incident becoming irrelevant memories and irreplaceable time. I'm kidding myself when I say I've moved on entirely because Gabriel is right: I haven't. Sometimes my thoughts get stuck on what I could have done better or what I should have done to convince her to stay. Despite these annoying blips, I know deep down that it was inevitable, that her consistent cheating and the emotional manipulation would only surface for everyone to see in due time. If they hadn't— which I tried to keep from happening— I have a gut-wrenching feeling I'd still be in the situation. I had a feeling Trinity and me wouldn't last, but it wasn't until after things ended did I realize how well she had me wrapped around her finger. It's taken months to find my way out of her web, but I now face the scary journey of recovery. Thankfully, the process has not been as hard as I anticipated. After all, living two cities away certainly helps.

"Yeah, I know. I'm still going through the motions. I just want it to speed up, you know?"

Smirking and pulling his hand back, Gabriel replies, "Maybe a Tinder will help?"

My nose wrinkles at the mere consideration. Hooking up, dating apps, meeting strangers behind a phone— not really my thing. "Nah, I'll pass on that offer, thanks."

"Suit yourself."

"Hmm, maybe I'll look into a sugar daddy site. Money from older men might make me feel a bit better."

Gabriel takes a sip of his hot chocolate, grinning. "Well, you have an interesting way with teachers. If you're struggling in a particular class, maybe that little fantasy of yours will come true."

"Oh yes, I can't wait to hop on Mr. Riley's seventy-year-old dick."

"Mhmm, yummy."

At this, I bark into a laughing-while-painfully-cringing fit. Never being a fan of the phrase "yummy" and having it tied to a man that's so old he's basically decaying, I find every part of this new conversation revoltingly hilarious. I guess my sudden outburst of laughter caught Gabe off guard, staring at me with a shocked grin and fixing the infamous beanie he wears. I couldn't count how many times I've seen him without; you can't count to zero.

"It really wasn't that funny," he says with a small hiccup of laughter in his voice.

I settle myself now that I feel the eyes of everyone in the coffee shop staring. "You're right, but something about it made me crack." I flip my phone over to check the time. "Should we be getting back? They've got twenty minutes left."

Gabe nods and lets out a content sigh. "Yeah, I guess so."

We decide to chug the rest of our beverages quickly— now room temperature and not as satisfying— before heading back out into the world. Away in the parking lot, the truck seems to beckon us to its forty-year-old, duct-tape-bound seats. As Gabe unlocks the truck doors, I let out a content sign and stare up at the sky. Above, the sun beams down on us and, like an idiot, I managed to look directly into it. It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust but by that point, a dark cloud rolled over the blinding, distant star.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

TAGLIST:

@khadineberry​

IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO BE TAGGED, LET ME KNOW!

#obsessive teachings #dark!tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston x ofc #tom hiddleston fanfiction #teacher!tom hiddleston #loki #high school #stalking #obsessed love #obsessive #dark!fic

[blackhyena]

gothank you @slutteryingreen for tagging me to uhhh. do this deep dive i guess.

1. Do you prefer writing with a black pen or blue pen? black ideally but like, whatever’s there in practice? i seem to have got hold of an aqua blue bastard right now and i feel somewhat foolish

2. Would you prefer to live in the country or city? i love the country but i need to be in a city where everything is convenient and it feels like im part of.... something at least. the idea of being far from amenities is quite frightening to me given how paranoid i can be lmao

3. If you could learn a new skill what would it be? i know i already play guitar but i would like to be actually genuinely good at it rather than mediocre. i also would like to be better at doing makeup, and i’d really love to be able to make my own clothes alas i can’t even work a sewing machine

4. Do you drink your tea/coffee with sugar? i do not

5. What was your favourite book as a child? omg megan horrible histories is such a shout. i did love those dragonology/egyptology/pirateology books though i still have them somewhere cause im not throwing away QUALITY like that

6. Do you prefer baths or showers? showers 

7. If you could be a mythical creature, which one would it be? Oh To Be A Gender Non Conforming Vampire

8. Paper or electronic books? paper

9. What is your favourite item of clothing? my assorted flashy blazer collection

10. Do you like your name or would you like to change it? i mean.... it’s unusual, and i suppose that makes it feel very personal to me. but then also i love my nicknames/alternative names so much, i have genuinely considered changing it, but then i also like the idea of going by several variously

11. Who is a mentor to you? ummm. literally? my supervisor

12. Would you like to be famous and if so, what for?  i still daydream about being a musician, that hasnt changed since i was really small haha. though sometimes in my daydreams i am also a screenwriter/director maybe. i don’t know. id hate to be super famous though megan is on the money, gotta be niche

13. Are you a restless sleeper? hmm, i take ages to get to sleep but when im out i am OUT. as in people have to make sure im not dead out. 

14. Do you consider yourself a romantic person? in every sense of the word!

15. Which element best represents you?  this is probably just from astrology shit but i think air is also quite representative of me!

16. Who do you want to be closer to? oh to be close to someone! in this economy...

17. Do you miss someone at the moment?  SEE ABOVE. everyone!!!!!

18. Tell us about an early childhood memory: my two cousins arguing over who got to give me a horse-ride in my nana’s living room, meanwhile i’m crying in the corner begging them not to fight

19. What is the strangest thing you have eaten? oh take your pick! chicken hearts, ostrich, springbok.... all very delicious would recommend

20. What are you most thankful for? im very loved by my family and friends 🥺 even though i can get insecure and not realise it, it’s something i need to commit to heart more often. 

21. Do you like spicy food? yes but my body does not. doesn’t stop me though!

22. Have you ever met someone famous? ive met miles kane! and jason manford. and some randos from coronation street. oh and kate mulgrew. and lee mack, who was getting my train along with catherine tate. there’s probably more ive forgotten. 

23. Do you do you keep a diary or journal? lol NO but i do have a planner because if i didnt my life would have fallen apart completely by now. 

24. Do you prefer to use a pen or a pencil?  pen.

25. What is your star sign? libra

26. Do you like your cereal soggy or crunchy? crunchy... but i also don’t eat cereal. ive fully gone off milk (no pun intended)

27. What would you want your legacy to be? that i created something beautiful or though-provoking, or at least funny

28. Do you like reading, what was the last book you read? ahah if i didnt like reading doing what i do then id be FUCKED. i just finished reading the ebb-tide by robert louis stevenson!

29. How do you show someone you love them? i get them something nice... i suck at expressing it because i’m so nervous it won’t go down well. a gift does nicely to get around that.

30. Do you like ice in your drinks? i guess?

31. What are you afraid of? failing.... being forgotten.....rejection.... oh and wasps, hugely. bug sounds freak me the fuck out!!!!

32. What is your favourite scent? woody, earthy rain smells. and jasmine/honeysuckle too i suppose

33. Do you address older people by their name or surname? i... whatever they go by????

34. If money was not a factor, how would you live your life? my house would be so beautifully hideous and full of beautifully hideous clothes. 

35. Do you prefer swimming in pools or the ocean? pools, just cause i can’t be dealing with salt water in my nose where it has no business being

36. What would you do if you found £50 on the ground? i .... GUESS i would turn it in to see if anyone had lost it, but you can bet i’d be fuming

37. Have you ever seen a shooting star? no!!! i think i’m too short-sighted to pick most of them out. really mad about that actually why did you ask

38. What is the one thing you would want to teach your children? im not planning to have kids but i did come to a conclusion that, while formerly i would have simply told them to be kind, i would also tell them to be smart. because natural intelligence aside critical thinking is a GIFT and they should rightly question everything rather than taking it as gospel. 

39. If you had to have a tattoo, what would it be and where would you get it? urgh i know exactly what i would get and if covid/money/parental expectations truly were no object i’d be getting little fragments of cathedral architecture from all the cities i’ve lived in tattooed on my wrists.

40. What can you hear now? the garage door creaking open under our flat

41. Where do you feel the safest? at home, with a cat curled up on my bed.

42. What is the one thing you want to overcome/conquer? insecurities yes.... anxieties.... fears.... all that. i should get therapy probably

43. If you could travel back to any era, what would it be? it would not be permanent because i do NOT want to live without modern niceties but i WOULD go back to the eighteenth century/regency.... and just meet some people i’ve been reading about in the flesh, and see if they live up to the hype.

44. What is your most used emoji?  red love heart emoji....

45. Describe yourself using one word. odd...

46. What do you regret the most?  not sticking up for people being bullied at school. i know it was a self preservation thing at the time and i was a kid and didnt necessarily know better but like.... i wish i hadnt tried to distance myself from it, i could have been a lot more empathetic and made the world a bit kinder for people going through it, you know?

47. Last movie you saw?  belle! 

48. Last tv show you watched? succession

49. Invent a word and it’s meaning. you know when you give your cat a gentle shove and it rolls over dramatically onto its back? that’s tipcat. 

i tag @ceolfriths @wutheringdyke  @mycravatundone @colubride @renfield @goblinmarquess​

#text post

[a-reasonforthoughts]

My thoughts on the Rise of Skywalker, because quarantine forced me to finally watch it. !!!!Spoilers!!!!!

Growing up, Star Wars was my childhood. My sisters and I read all the books (including the comics) and we packed the Essential Guides with us everywhere. Because for our deep love of the Extended universe, when the last few movies came out we had... mixed emotions. I didn’t even see the last movie when it came out after hearing some less than stellar reviews. So here’s my review, or rather my reactions to the Rise of Skywalker. (Yes, I actually sat down with paper and pen and watched this movie.) Title craw: The DIABOLICAL First Order.

‘The Emperor has returned.’ Wow, the are expecting us to go along with a lot aren’t they.

Cool. Kylo wrecking everything.

Yay, a planet that isn’t snow, desert, or forest. Hold on tight kids, they’re throwing us right into this one. We’re already at Palpatine’s house.   Ew. Whats with the tank?

Whoa eyes! What’s up with his lips? Can someone bring this fossil a drink?

Imperial March playing while a Star Destroyer rises in the back ground. Is this Vader’s old ship? Rey is “Not who we thought she is.” Thought she was “Nothing”?

Ew, what is Klaud, and why is he here?

Who are all these people on the Falcon? “How do we thank you?” “Win the war.” aren’t you all on the same team? Why do you need to thank him? Cool, another planet thats not snow, desert, or a forest. Never mind.

Oh great, Rey’s here.  Looks like the Lightsaber is fixed.  I know the names of a bunch of these plants! When Luke was training with the ball thing (Training remote) he was just trying to deflect the shots. Rey’s trying to take down the whole forest. 

You sure you want to destroy that thing Rey? There can’t be to many of them laying around Who are all these people? Why’s the Falcon on FIRE?! Since when is “Light-speed skip” a thing? Seriously. Who are all these people? I thought after the last movie there was only like, 10 of them left. Hey! It’s Merry from Lord of the Rings!

What’s this old orange doing here?

“Sith Way-finder” Sigh. Are Poe and Rey a “thing”? Are Finn and Rey a “thing”? Why’s everyone here but R2? There he is. Why did they not bring him?!

Now I’m watching a Planet of the Apes crossover.

That guy who was on the same team is dead now. His blood is clear so the rating doesn't go up. Well, Hux is certainly different.

Someone must have taken his hair gel because his hair was never this poofy before.   Is this a Holi Festival, or Burning man.

Why are we learning the name of this random kid? Rey just walked away from her, what was that? Yay! The force link is still there!

Kylo is giving off stalker vibes. It’s nice to see him growing into his role of Supreme Leader. Looks like everyone hates him. Wait- Who is this guy?! Why are they following a stranger!

It’s LANDO Oh, so Rey know’s who Lando is, but thought Luke was a myth. Makes sense. Boom. First order is here.

Lando: “My flying days are over.” Why? “Give Leia my love.” Ew.  Wait, why is Lando out here? Did Luke just leave him? He said he came here with him. Has the emotional issues of being abandoned by Luke led him to never fly again? Is this a parallel story to Rey’s abandonment? What’s the motive here movie!  They made it even harder for these Storm Troopers to see out of those helmets.

3PO is getting a lot of lines. Rey *is distracted* Ship *Blows up*  Now they have sinking sand. WAS THAT ALMOST A CONFESSION?! This guy just says, “The Falcon is not responding.” when asked, and they’re like “Don’t be such a downer!” Oh yay, they survived.  Kay, we’re just brushing over Finn’s almost confession. I’m sure they’ll come back to that later. *Cough* Okay, that flashlight bit was funny. 

How do you know that’s the guy you’re looking for? That could be anybody’s skeleton! How’d they find a knife that neither Luke, or Lando (who might have been here for 20 years) could find!  Rey’s making friend’s with the basilisk.

She just transferred some of her life force to the snake! Why!? This old ship they found in the desert still works. “Chewie, tell Rey we got to go!” Why can’t you do it? You’re not doing anything. Axe. Here comes lover boy.  How to Breathe, the movie, by Rey.

Trailer shot.

Was he just gonna run her over?

Cool, she’s pulling the ship out of the sky. Uh oh, helmet’s off, there goes her focus.

Now they’re playing tug-a-war with the ship. It’s the light saber fight all over again.  Whoa!!! She juST LIGHTING’D THE SHIP! Kylo Looked freaked out for a second! She just told Finn she had a vision of her and Kylo together, and he looks like he’s gonna cry. 3PO tells them how horrible and dangerous it is to override a droid’s programming. “Let’s do that!” That droid looks like a yoga wheel and a hairdryer. 

Rey to the new droid: “Someone treated him badly. It’s alright, you’re with us now.” Yeah, just don’t watch what we’re about to do to this other droid.

Looks like we’re adding another girl to this love triangle (hexagon?) She’s not supposed to be a Mandalorian is she. (So help me-) I hate you and I’m going to turn you in *Hit’s her over the head and pulls out a lightsaber* Okay, lets go.

Why they so mad at Poe for being a smuggler?  Wow. They are forcing C-3PO to do this. Backup his memory to the hairdryer! It’s got to have a reason for being here! C-3PO “Oh! I just had an idea of something else we could try-” ZAP!  ...Was that supposed to be funny? These writers need to learn what humor is, and when to use it. Why are we focusing on Poe and his old girlfriend the Power Ranger? Wah! What’s up with 3PO’s eye’s? Is he a Sith droid now? Why does he have that function?!

Rey, you’re boyfriend’s here. They wiped 3PO’s memory and he doesn’t know who anyone is, but he’s still polite. Poe angrily points “That’s gonna be a problem!” Our heroes ladies and gentleman. I hope the First Order just blast them. That Admiral’s badge just let them in? Like no one reported that missing?? Wiped 3PO’s memory and they’re getting the dagger anyway. Worst rescue ever. 

Vaders Helmet has had a hard life. Rey has a vision in every scene she's in.

More ‘Rey’s family history’ with Kylo “Tell me where you are,” She’s in your room dude.

R.IP. Vader Helmet

That Stormtrooper behind Kylo must be so confused.  *Sees helmet, breaks link*  “She’s in my quarters!” Told you so. Why is Hux the spy? When did this happen? What does he think the outcome of this will be?

3PO just wandering the halls with a crossbow. 

“You are a Palpatine.” Wanna be a Solo? Is this like his fourth proposal? OooooOOOOooo, that was cool! Kylo standing in the blast of the Falcon’s engines was a moment we needed!

Yikes! They took out Hux fast! They didn’t want to question him or anything? No?

The Death Star was blasted to smithereens, why is it here? How is it here?

They made that dagger to line up with the wreckage? I’m pretty sure things that are constantly beat by the ocean will move or erode over time. Who even made that? What was the purpose?!

Yay, another scavenger  Who’s also a ex-Stormtrooper, because why not.

That’s a horse covered in a rug. Rey’s out trying to kill herself again.

“There’s another Skimmer!” Wonder who that is. He is literally following her to the ends of the galaxy. 

Wait- The throne rooms still in one piece?! The chair and everything?!!! Dark Rey- YIKES! TEETH

I thought he stopped the holocron with his foot, I was really surprised when fingers formed and he picked it up.

Kylo acting so cool as she’s trying to slash him to ribbons. I see Merry again! Wait- What’s Leia got to do? And why does Maz know? They’ve never explained what this strange orange is and what she can do.

Finn’s in deep- Wait how'd he get out here?????

Leia don’t distract your son while he’s fighting for his life!

SEE!!!!!!!

“I wanted to take your hand. Ben’s hand.” You think he’s going to leave you alone after that?

Why is Rey just a total mess in every movie.

Chewie mourning Leia is a good touch. It’s nice to see the reaction of someone who ACTUALLY knew her.  Whoa! They got Harrison Ford to come back! That must have taken a lot of bribery (or blackmail).

Has almost dying given Kylo/Ben the power to see non-Force user ghost, or is he just going nuts? So this is just a rehash of Han’s death scene. 

Aw, he called him Dad- Hey don’t throw that away, you need that!

He’s nuts. Those red helmets look stupid. Aaaaand it’s the Death Star again Merry in the background! Why’d they make Poe the General? Lando finally got off that planet 

“General.” “General.” She’s burning his ship. Good luck Kylo/Ben.

You know how hot that fire has got to be to burn metal “A Jedi weapon should be treated with more respect.” You brat.

Why did he have Leia’s lightsaber here? “...it would be picked up again, by someone who would finish her journey.” Oooookay, but why not just have her take Luke’s old Saber? It’s gotta be laying around here somewhere.

I know it’s symbolic and all that he’s raising the x-wing, but there’s no way that thing still works.

Alright, 3PO’s memories are back. Why’d we have to go through all that? I spy Merry again! How does Poe know all this stuff about Exogol? He’s just a fountain of information over here!

“Now we take the war to them!” That’s literally what you’ve done every movie ever No one is questioning how Lando got here. Isn’t this a secret base? *Dr. Evil voice* ONE MILLION STAR DESTROYERS 

Who even wrote this story line? Finn’s going with his gut and everyones just going along with it. Not like you could all die or anything. They brought the rug horses with them

How are they breathing in space!? Those red troopers still look stupid.

What’s this crowd chanting? Are they speaking Parseltoungue?  “I never wanted you dead.” That’s why I told Kylo Ren to kill you.

Hang on- his plan is ‘You be the empress, and I’ll just possess you. Grandaughter.’  EW. Why would she want that? How is that a tempting offer? Someone’s gone senile. Direct quote: “I got to go do something!” “I’m coming with you!” Why do these people get attached so quickly?! 

“Luke was saved by his father. The only family you have here is me.” Yeah, but I got a boyfriend who follows me everywhere!

Ben runs and jumps: “Ow.” We finally get to see the Knight’s of Ren in action! (Where have they been this whole time?) “Once you kill me I shall become apart of you!” So she could just, not kill him. Right? Oh yeah, here we go, now we got a showdown!

Well, that was anticlimactic 

WHAT IS HAPPENING Poe just realized he's the worst General ever.

YO. Don’t tell your troops there is no hope! What is wrong with you??? Why isn't Lando the General? He is a lot more qualified!!!

Wait a minute!! Where were all these people when LEIA ORGANA called for help????

Wedge Antilles!!!!!! So all the life force sucking was just so Palpatine could up grade his outfit? *Flings Ben into a pit* Palpatine is so done with the Skywalkers Hey, I know these voices!!!! Aaaaand now he wants to kill her. So whats our big moment? TWO lightsabers! 

Why did the make that the big epic moment? Why didn’t they have Ben run over and they do it together- It would have been perfect for his story arch! Rey: “And we” Together: “are all the Jedi!” Now she's dying. Why? Not even the writers know So Finn’s Force sensitive. Cool I guess? This is a really touching moment for them, even more so if they did anything other than fight this entire movie!

This kinda feels out of nowhere

I’M SO MAD RIGHT NOW

NOW SHE’S SMILING AND FINE. HE JUST DIED Merry’s here again and I can’t even be happy about it Now Finn has to chose between Rose and the new girl  Poe’s trying to start something with his Power Ranger old flame, and she's like “Not a chance.” Now everything’s all happy like BEN DIDN’T JUST DIE. ARE WE NOT GOING TO ADDRESS THIS?????????? Oh hey, it’s the Lars farm. Nobody else moved in after all these years? Now she's burying the Skywalker lightsabers in the place they all hated.

WHY IS BEN NOT HERE!!!!!!! HE WAS A MAIN CHARACTER FOR THESE MOVIES AND THEY DID HIM DIRTY!!!!!!

Well I guess they had to wrap this mess up somehow

#star wars #rise of skywalker #ben solo #kylo ren #kylo redemption #rey #rey of jakku #rey x ben #luke skywalker #leia organa #leia deserved better #ben deserves better #ben solo lives #finn star wars #poe star wars #c-3po #r2d2 #hairdryer #lando #harrison ford #chewbacca #what a mess #millennium falcon #lightsaber #x-wing #poe dameron #stormtrooper #imperial star destroyer #death star #emperor palpatine

[the-awkward-outlaw]

Chubby Arthur with a chubby female reader. Modern times. Can be smutty af. (Haha I’m kinda slutty for my Artie). He’s teaching her about riding horses and next thing you know.....

I’m sorry this took so long! This week has been weird. Anyways, here you go! BTW, this piece made me miss my own horseback riding lessons. 

Warnings: smut

You sigh a little nervously. Are you really ready to do this? What if you make a complete fool of yourself? What if he laughs at you? You’ll probably look ridiculous the entire time. What if you enjoy it too much and you make some goofy face? God, this was a bad idea, you tell yourself. 

“You ready?” Arthur asks, walking up to you. 

You open your eyes, swallowing. Okay, deciding to take horseback riding lessons was a mistake, you’re sure of that now. But why in the hell did your instructor have to be so damn good looking?

You graduated college a year ago and now that you have a good paying job and are fairly stable in your living situation, you decided to go looking on the internet for some things to do with your free time. Some new hobby to develop. Something active. You looked at maybe doing archery or just plain old hiking, and while you liked doing them, they weren’t enough to really keep you going for a long time. Besides, your archery instructor kept pushing you to buy your own gear and that shit’s expensive, so you dropped it. Then you ran into an ad about horseback riding lessons and the fees weren’t out of your range like a lot of the others. 

You pat the horse’s neck that you’ve just tied up to the post. She’s a dapple gray mare named Willow. Arthur explained when you first got here that she’s the best with beginners. He has five horses total, including a massive iron gray draft horse. He showed you how to interact with Willow, how to put a halter on and then how to tie her to the post outside his tack room. That’s where you are now after he left to grab some grooming tools. 

“Ma’am, you ready?” he says again. You finally nod, feeling like a damn fool. He’s an attractive man, more on the plump side but you can tell he’s still very fit. You’re chubby yourself, a struggle you’ve had for most of your life. It’s also been one of your biggest insecurities. There’s no way in hell this man finds you attractive. It doesn’t help that he’s incredibly polite and has a gruff voice, the kind that could turn you to butter. 

He hands you a grooming brush and shows you how to brush Willow. Then he shows you how to clean Willow’s feet with a pick and then has you do it. She’s a patient and obedient horse, to which you’re grateful. When she’s all brushed and clean, Arthur comes out with a blanket and a big saddle. He shows you how to position the blanket and then throws the saddle over her back. Then he shows you how tight to put the girth around Willow’s belly and how to measure and adjust the stirrups. Then he shows you how to bridle her. He undoes everything and tells you to repeat it. He’s a firm believer in hands-on learning, which you appreciate. 

After she’s saddled up, you lead Willow outside with Arthur. He’s glad you had the knowledge to buy yourself some gear before showing up, mostly the riding boots and a helmet. He admits he never wears one himself, but he grew up on horses so he’s pretty confident in his riding skills. 

“Never go without a helmet until you know how to ride backwards, forwards and upside down,” he says. 

In the round pen, he teaches you how to mount. When you’re finally on Willow’s back, he asks how it feels. It feels good, even if it is taller than you thought it’d be. Arthur just has you walk around the round pin for the next half hour so you can get used to the horse moving beneath you and get your balance. He’s surprised how well you’re able to balance yourself. 

Over the lesson, you keep catching him looking at you, but you can’t tell if he’s just making sure you don’t fall off or get ahead of yourself. It’s probably just wishful thinking, but you swear he seems to always have a small smile when he’s looking at you. Like you said, there’s no way he finds you attractive. 

Over the course of the next few weeks, you have a few more lessons and have graduated to trotting and doing simple work like pirouetting and other types of turns. Arthur says it’s all important so you can really learn how to feel your horse and build that unique bond of trust between horse and rider. It’s tough work that always leaves you sweating a little, not to mention sore. After your first lesson, you could barely walk normally because of how saddle sore you were. 

You swear Arthur’s been flirting with you a little more and more each time you’ve come for a lesson. Banter between you comes easily and you learn a lot about each other. However, by your sixth lesson, you struggle to look him in the eye thanks to the fact you’d had a wet dream about him. It had been amazing too, the things he did to you were just wonderful. You’re determined to keep it a secret. 

The tenth lesson, as you’re unsaddling Willow, Arthur strolls up to you, looking nervous. Oh no, he’s about to tell you he can’t continue teaching you for some reason. Is he about to sell his ranch? Is he selling Willow?! You love Willow, she’s a fantastic horse. Oh no, what is he about to announce? You’ve come so far with these lessons, they’ve been an incredible amount of fun. 

He rubs his neck nervously. “Hey, uh, Y/N. I was wonderin’, well…” He stutters a bit. “I understand if you ain’t interested or if you got plans. And I certainly don’t wanna step on any toes if you already got someone, but…” He finally looks at you with those beautiful blue eyes. They were the first thing you noticed about him. “I’d love to take ya out to dinner. Tomorrow, if you’re free?” 

You must be tired or hungry or dehydrated or something. No way in hell did Arthur Morgan, your horse riding instructor and certified hottie, just ask you out on a date. There’s no way in hell! You must take too long to process this because he begins to stammer again. “I didn’t mean…. If ya already got a boyfriend, or a girlfriend even, I certainly don’t wanna intrude. Sorry if I offended ya.” 

He begins walking away, his face red. You come to your senses, realizing you didn’t make it up. “Arthur, wait! Sorry, I didn’t mean to leave you hanging. I thought… well, I thought I was just hallucinating or something. To be honest, I’ve wanted to ask you out forever but just… didn’t think you’d want to.” Great, now you’re the one rambling. “Arthur, I’d love to go to dinner with you.” 

You’ve never seen him smile so wide. “Well, that’s great, Y/N.” The two of you set time and details and then you say goodbye. His eyes are sparkling when you leave and you feel like you’re floating the entire way home. You can’t believe it. A date with Arthur Morgan! He’s gotta have dozens of women drooling at his feet, you know he teaches other people to ride. You’ve seen a couple of them. So why in the hell did he ask you out? You’re just a normal girl, there’s nothing about you that you find interesting. Not in personality and definitely not in looks. 

The next day, you try to find something nice to wear. Not anything too formal of course, but something nice. You end up just putting on a clean pair of jeans and a tank top with a plaid button down shirt, leaving it open. There. A safe, nice and casual look that still says you know how to have fun. 

Arthur knocks on your door and when you open it, you can’t help but let your mouth fall slightly open. He was always good looking before but now he’s down right sexy. He’s in a pair of jeans, his signature cowboy boots, and a blue plaid button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His shirt’s only buttoned up to halfway up his chest, revealing some of the hair growing on his chest. You remember your sex dream involving him and resist the urge to just rip his shirt open. You doubt you’ll ever get to that point with him. 

At dinner, the two of you get on famously. You chat at the table for well over two hours. But after having a few drinks, your resolve to not be overly sexual towards him is beginning to slip. 

“I think I need more riding lessons,” you say, slurring slightly. “Maybe you can help me more?” 

His eyes spark at you, a dark look in them and he wears an illegally sexy grin. “Oh, I can certainly do that, darlin’.” 

Okay, you’re already hot for this guy. Jesus, you’re not even intimate with him and he’s already pushing your buttons. You think somewhat woefully about how you’ll probably end up feeling lonely while using your vibrator again later tonight. 

However, when you walk out with Arthur to his truck, slightly tipsy, he stops you and then slowly bends down and kisses you. His lips are like fire. They awaken some kind of heat within you that has nothing to do with sex. It feels incredible and you find yourself wanting more when he pulls away. You reach up, tangling your hands in his hair, and kiss him back. Your hand wanders down from his head to his chest where you start rubbing his collarbone, your fingertip barely touching it. His response is undeniable and he groans. “Your house?” he says, his breath picking up. You just nod and kiss him again. 

The next thing you know, you’re in his truck and he’s speeding down the road towards your house. Now is the time for you to start freaking out. Are you really going to sleep with him on the first date? Technically, you’ve spent a lot of alone time with him, but they were never dates. Was this his goal all along? Just getting you into bed and having fun and then, next thing you know, he’s just your instructor again or worse, he disappears? Should you be doing this?

He must be able to tell you’re freaking out because he reaches over and takes your hand. “Sweetheart, you feelin’ okay?” You look at him. “I, um, I don’t want you to think I do this on every first date, Arthur. Because I don’t. Hell, I’ve never fooled around with anyone until after our third date.” He chuckles and brings your hand up to kiss it. “I understand. And I don’t want ya to think I’m tryin’ to take advantage of you.” 

He pulls up to your house and he stops, but doesn’t get out. “Listen, we don’t have to if you don’t feel ready.” Okay, you’re already hard core falling for him. First, he’s hot, he’s sweet and kind, and now he’s patient and he doesn’t wanna push you. You reach over and kiss him. “Thank you, Arthur. I think… if we did it tonight, we’d probably end up regretting it.” 

He nods and then walks you to the door. There, he gives you another kiss. This one’s more passionate, yet not pushy. In it, he says he’s already crazy about you. 

After the first date, the riding lessons have changed only slightly. There’s more touching and kissing, plus Arthur doesn’t hide his flirting anymore. You’ve gone on a few more dates but still haven’t done the nasty with him. He hasn’t pushed for it either, but you can tell you’re getting close to breaking that. 

During one riding lesson, he shows you a slightly tricky maneuver and you try to copy it but end up just slipping off the horse and falling into the sand. He runs over, asking if you’re okay. You are, the only thing injured is your pride. He chuckles when you get up, clearly unhurt. “Now you’re a real cowgirl!” he says with a laugh. “Falling off is a right of passage, sweetheart.” 

“I just lost my balance is all,” you say, brushing your jeans off. The sexual tension throughout the day has been stronger than ever. He touches your shoulder. “Maybe you need a little more practice,” he says. 

Before you can stop yourself, you’re kissing him, your arms wrapped around him. He groans against your lips and you reach down, squeezing his crotch. It immediately grows hard. Arthur pushes you away just slightly and he grabs your hand, running into the stable and into an empty stall where he stores hay and sawdust. 

As soon as he gets there, you’re attacking him. The first thing you do is rip open his shirt. Fuck, he’s even hotter than you thought. You start kissing his chest and stroking his nipples. He tips his head back as one hand wanders down to his belt and undoes it. In your desperation to see him unsheathed, you fumble with his belt. Eventually you get it undone and his pants unbuttoned. You reach in and grab him, his length already hard. His hips buck a little. 

“Hey,” he groans. “Let me give you another riding lesson.” 

You shiver and nod. He lifts up your shirt and rips it off and then unclasps your bra. He stares at your naked breasts for a moment and then you reach down and strip off your pants. Now you’re completely naked in front of him. He smiles as he studies your body and then he strips his own clothes off. 

Once you’re both exposed, he lays down on his back, his cock standing erect. He gestures down at it. “Come on, cowgirl. Time for your lesson.” 

You almost giggle at how cheesy he is, but you comply. You kneel down, straddling his hips but keeping his length away from your slit. You kind of wish there was something in the terms of foreplay. He must sense your hesitation. His hands latch onto your hips and he starts rubbing up your sides and finds your breasts. You tilt your head back as he strokes your nipples, making the already stiff nubs perk out even more. 

Eventually one hand leaves your breast and slides down between your legs. “Damn, you’re wet,” he says. You sigh in pleasure and then he slips a finger into your soaking slit, making you yelp. He tickles you, your breath picking up. You involuntarily twitch on him and then he pushes a finger into you. “Think you’re ready, cowgirl,” he says after a few moments of you fucking his hand. 

You nod and sit up a little, grabbing his stiff cock. You pump it a few times and then angle your hips directly above it, settling down onto him. He feels good as he fills you up. He goes in deep and then, without warning, he begins pushing himself in and out of you. You can’t help but moan with every push and bounce along with him, creating even more friction between the two of you. You look down at him. His cheeks are flushed and his eyes are filled with lust. He’s left his old hat on. To be expected, you suppose. You’ve never seen him with it off. 

“Come for me, sweetheart,” he growls. You gasp again as he puts his hand back to your slit, tickling your clit. He’s the first man you’ve done this who has actually taken the time to make sure you get your pleasure. 

“Keep going,” you squeak. “Oh God, Arthur, it feels good.” He stimulates you again and again, your hips wildly bucking as his cock pulses within you. He pushes himself up a little harder, brushing your spot as he slides his finger across your clit again. You clench your toes and groan loudly, turning into jelly on him. “Good girl,” he says in a deep voice. “You’re alright. Easy.” 

Just as you’re coming down and about to put yourself back together, he flips you onto your back so he can really pound himself into you. He’s going so hard you’re sure it’ll hurt in the morning, but you don’t care. He feels amazing. You clutch his back, leaving behind small scratches as he thrusts again and again, chasing his own end. After a short time, he finally pulls out and releases onto your thighs and the hay beneath you. “Shit,” he says when he’s finished spilling out. 

You cup his cheek and smile up at him. “Did I do good?” you ask. He smiles and kisses you. “I think we might need another lesson.”

#red dead fanfic #arthur morgan #modern arthur #awkward asks #rdr2 fanfic

[thecleverdame]

Caught - 3

Sam x Reader

Masterlist

Summary: You’re arrested and interrogated as an accomplice to the notorious Winchester brothers.

Warning: Talk of past violence, death of parents, murder, rape, torture and domestic abuse/violence.

Words: 2.3k

Beta: ilikaicalie

Part 1-7 are available now on my Patreon for a monthly pledge of 2.50. This pledge includes early access to all my stories and Patreon exclusive content.  >> CLICK HERE <<

-

It’s day 3 and this time instead of bringing you to the same interrogation room, Detective Marlow leads you down a series of halls into a cozier side room with an aging couch and scuffed up coffee table. There’s a knock-off Airwick scent dispenser that puffs as you sit down, wafting a burp of sickly sweet cranberry in your general direction.

Marlow sits in an armchair across from you, setting up a video camera to record the interview and then leafing through her stack of meticulously organized notes. She smiles, careful and calculated, trying nonchalantly to get you comfortable enough to open up.

“Would you like a warm-up?” She nods toward your styrofoam cup of coffee.

“I’m good, thanks.” You pick at the edge, crossing your ankles and waiting for the day to begin.

“Let me know if you need anything.” She shifts her hips. She’s nervous. “We’ll get started. If you need a break just speak up. This can be tasking and I want you to know that honestly, I have your best interests in mind.”

“I understand,” you nod and fold your hands in your lap.

“I was hoping we could talk about the beginning.”

“The beginning?”

“After Sam first took you. Those first weeks and months.”

“That was a long time ago.”

“Anything you can remember.”

In truth, you can recall almost every detail, the sights, sounds, and feelings of being ripped out of your life and transplanted into a clusterfuck with the Winchesters.

“It was...scary. For a long time. But I was so overcome with grief that I don’t think I let that part of it sink in. Sam was afraid the men who killed my parents would look for me. He knew he and Dean attracted more attention together, so the two of us stayed under the radar. We’d drive two or three hundred miles every day, stay in some shitty motel and do the same thing again as soon as the sun came up. It was three weeks of moving around.”

“Did you try to get away from Sam during that time?”

“He told me I could leave.”

“He did?” She’s surprised, eyebrows shooting up as her pen stops on the paper. “Would he have let you go?”

“I don’t know. Probably not,” you shrug. “He explained how dangerous it was. That I should stay with him. I believed him, so I stayed.”

“Did he threaten you? Hurt you?”

“No, we just watched a lot of movies and read books.”

“Did he talk about his brother?” she asks, taking notes.

“Yeah, as the days went on. I knew we were going to meet up with Dean eventually. I think Sam felt bad, he knew his brother wouldn’t want to add me to the mix. I think he was prepping me for Dean’s reaction.”

“What was Dean’s reaction?”

“Dean was resistant.” You smile halfheartedly. “He didn’t want me there, Sam and Dean were a two-man show and I was the third wheel. Something else to worry about.”

“But Sam insisted you stay with them?”

“Yeah. He said it was safer that way.”

Five Years Ago

“It’s gonna be alright,” Sam says.

The car is parked outside room number eleven at the Cable Car Motel. He’s sitting behind the steering wheel with both hands resting on his thighs. Inside that room is his brother, the infamous Dean you’ve heard so much about it feels like you already know him.

“You keep saying that.” Watching him grimace you unbuckle your seat belt. “I trust you, Sam.”

“Good.” Sam takes a deep breath, looks at you with hesitation then exits the car. You follow him to the door, standing beside him as he knocks once. The door flies open and a handsome guy with a gun in his hand is standing barefoot on aging carpet.

Dean looks from Sam to you and then back to his brother, waving the gun at him.

“No,” Dean barks.

“Dean, we talked about this,” Sam counters, readying for a fight.

“I know. And I told you in no uncertain terms to ditch the chick. The last thing we need is another liability. She,” he tips the barrel of the gun toward you, “is gonna get us killed.”

“Don’t be so dramatic.” Sam rolls his eyes.

Dean turns and walks back into the room, leaving the door wide open. Sam places a hand on your back, ushering you inside before carefully closing the door.

“You have to know this is a bad idea, Sammy.”

“Don’t call me Sammy. They’re going to kill her, we can’t just leave her on her own.”

“So we stash her somewhere. They are plenty of hunters that could keep her safe.”

“No way.” Sam is adamant about this.

A couple of weeks ago, after a few beers, Sam explained how the other hunters came for him once they knew about his powers. They saw him as tainted, evil. What Dean’s talking about is exactly the thing Sam’s trying to protect you from.

Sam sighs and turns to you. “Can you give us a minute?”

“Sure,” you start to move toward the door but Sam directs you toward the bathroom instead. You sit on the toilet and listen through paper-thin walls. Talk about the illusion of privacy.

“What the hell, man!” Dean hisses. “I said no.”

“And I told you I’m not leaving her. She’s special Dean, like me. I can’t let anything happen to her.”

“Are you sleeping with her?”

“What? No. Look Dean-” Sam scoffs.

“I know how you get when you’ve got it bad for a girl. This is what you do, you ride in on a white horse and save the day.”

“That’s not what’s going on here. But you need to think about this. She lost her family, and people will be looking for her. She shouldn’t be alive.”

“You think yellow eyes hid her away? As what, a backup?”

“Maybe, but she doesn’t understand what she is. She’s just trying to deal and we gotta help her.”

“It’s not a good idea. It makes all of us a giant fucking target. She’s not a hunter. She’s gonna get hurt or killed.”

“I’ll take care of her.”

“Yeah, I bet you will.” Dean is dripping with sarcasm.

“Fuck you, man. I’m not trying to get laid. I’m just trying to do the right thing.”

“Fine. But she’s your responsibility. And for the record, this is gonna end in blood.”

Present Day

“Dean thought I was a liability. That I’d slow them down, get them caught,” you snort.

You and Dean have grown closer over the years. These days he’s your family just as much as Sam.

“But Sam wanted you to stay?” she clarifies.

“Yeah, he said he wanted to keep me safe.”

“What did keeping you safe entail? Were you locked in a room? Were there rules?”

You laugh, remembering the near debilitating intensity of the first months with the Winchesters.

“It was the wild west. Sam was scared something would happen to me so he took me everywhere. For probably the first six months I don’t think I was ever more than twenty feet from him.”

“How did you feel about that? Were you scared of him? Of Dean?”

“A little, a first. But I knew Sam liked me, he was kind to me despite being this huge beast of a guy who was trained to kill. Over time being with him felt safe. He’s always protected me, never let anyone fuck with me. Not randos in the bar or some assassins trying to kill me.”

“He’s your protector.”

“He’s a lot of things.” You smile, picturing Sam’s face in the mornings. He’s most handsome with heavy eyes and wild hair, lying on a pillow next to you.

“When did you begin a more intimate relationship?”

“About a year in. I ran away. Their life was too much. I saw something I shouldn't have seen and it terrified me. I wanted out. Sam found me and things...changed after that.”

“Did he assault you?”

“No.”

“You gave consent?”

“Of course.”

“I ask because I have a hard time seeing no as a realistic option. You knew the extreme violence he was capable of. At that point, you witnessed first hand what the Winchesters were capable of. And you also felt a sense of loyalty, for the protection he offered. Could you have said no?”

“Sam’s never done anything to me I didn’t want,” you counter.

“I only know what I’ve seen.” She sits back, watching you thoughtfully. “We watched the surveillance video together. He beat you. Sexually assaulted you. I’ve seen the hospital records. But I’ve also watched the videos on your phone. So I know you care about him, you love him. That has to be confusing.”

“The world we live in is...different. Things aren’t always what they appear to be.”

“I can understand that.” Marlow thinks you’re in denial about your situation, but she’s softened her approach. “Every relationship is complicated, there are layers upon layers. I’m not saying Sam is all bad but you do realize he’s capable of incredible violence, don’t you?”

“They both are.” You look her in the eyes, staring Marlow head-on. “Everything Sam and Dean have ever done has been in the pursuit of bad people, evil things.”

Her eyes narrow, debating how to handle this new declaration.

“Y/N, they’ve killed a lot of people. Lots of them. Remember the diner? The bank? They slaughtered innocent people and apparently enjoyed themselves.”

You squirm, still unsure of how to handle this part of things. Leviathan make everything significantly more complicated.  They left a nauseating body count and the proof to confirm everyone’s suspicions. One look at the video uploaded to one of the victim’s social media would be enough to convince anyone that Sam and Dean are complete and total monsters with a taste for blood.

“That doesn’t bother you?” Marlow asks. Her question is a genuine one, there’s no angle behind it.

“Everyone’s got their shit.” You shrug, tucking hair behind both ears.

“Did you know about that series of attacks? What they had planned?”

“No, of course not.”

“After it happened, you made the choice to stay with Sam. Despite the fact that he murdered dozens and recorded it for the world. You stayed.”

Jesus, you wish she would move on from this. While you understand she’s trying to get inside your motivations there’s not much you can say short of explaining the men in all these videos are shapeshifting creatures.

“That’s not a question,” you counter.

“Okay, let me rephrase. Why did you stay?”

“It’s hard to explain.”

“Try.”

“That Sam and my Sam are two very different people. There’s so much more than what you see. They’ve helped people, people in real trouble that have no one else to turn to.”

“I’ve read those reports too. There’s a fascinating contrast between the men who shot up a restaurant full of random bystanders and the guys who travel the country solving bizarre crimes.”

Four Years and Nine Months Ago

“He hates me.” You sit in the back of the Impala watching Dean walk toward the gas station.

Sam twists around in his seat, looking back at you. “He just needs time. He’s not used to this. It’s been just the two of us for a long time.”

“Maybe he’s right. I don’t wanna get anyone else killed. If you got me a fake ID you could drop me off somewhere-”

“No way.” Sam shakes his head, shifting in his seat to fully turn around and face you. “I told you I was gonna take care of you and I will. Don’t let him make you feel bad. I want you here. We’re going to find out who killed your parents, and who’s after you. Once things are safe you can do whatever you want, but right now just stick with me and ignore my brother. He’s got a bad attitude.”

“I don’t have much of a choice.”

You sit back watching cars come and go from the gas pumps. Sam’s thumbing through his phone but he’s not really looking at the screen. You’ve come to know him in the time you spent alone together. When it was just the two of you, you talked. Talked about everything. Childhoods and college and losing people you care about. You shared book recommendations and watched Netflix on his tiny phone screen to pass the hours. It was a nice little bubble that felt safe, a world away from the horror of what happened to your family. And the uncertainty of what lay ahead. Being with Sam was like living in a cocoon, but now you’re back in the real world and it’s a harsh reality.

“I was thinking,” Sam starts, staring out the windshield. “If you want, maybe you and I can get a room together and Dean can have a room to himself. Only if you're comfortable.”

The three of you have shared rooms for too long. Sam’s slept on the floor next to your bed despite your willingness to trade places. Dean’s complained about how much time you spend in the shower.

“I’d prefer that,” you reply as Dean walks toward the car with a plastic sack full of snacks. “Maybe he’ll ease up if I’m not in his space twenty-four hours a day.”

#sam winchester x reader #sam winchester smut #sam winchester fanfiction #Sam Winchester Fanfic