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tonycries · 2 months

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Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy - G.S.

Synopsis. He knows that you would be one of his favorite stories from his travels. And you know that you want nothing more than to stay by his side. After meeting an alluring cowboy at Ol’ Rustcliffe Saloon, both of you are sure of one thing - this must be fate.

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, wild west! AU, cowboy! Satoru, mayor’s daughter! Reader, Satoru is SO DOWN BAD, angst, kinda slowburn, friends-to-lovers, bartender! Nanami, cunnilingus, oral sex (female + male receiving), unprotected sex, gun violence, pet names (m’lady, my love, + others), tumbleweed bandits, reader and Satoru are both going through stuff, Gege cameo, swearing, author’s daddy issues come out.

Word count. 12.1k (I’m scared)

A/N. You know how hard it was to make this all cowboy-y. Anyway that’s off the bucket list.

Art by @_3aem on X.

“So, you itchin’ for a beating from me or yer’ wife?”

Glowering down at the drunk old pervert as he waddled away in fear, you sigh as you dust down your heavy skirts. Typical. The sun beats down on your face as you look up at that familiar faded banner.

Ol’ Rustcliffe Saloon

The only bar in your little town of Rustcliffe, and by default the only one around for miles. You hated this place - not the saloon, no, the handsome bartender there was always a sweetheart. But at some point, the comfort of your quaint old town had become too comfortable.

But that’s a story for another time. Right now, you were here to drag your father back home - per usual.

Rolling your eyes at the cacophony of drunken voices carrying from inside, you step through the dust-bitten swinging doors.

What hits you first is the stench of cheap alcohol, and then the inebriated camaraderie of the men around you. In the dim lighting of the saloon, you squeeze through the crowded tables and make your way to the bar.

Not a hair out of place, as usual, Nanami lights up when he spots you. “Well, it’s been a while. Here for the mayor again?” he speaks over the boisterous laughs around you.

You flash him a smile, “Yeah, you know my father. Fraternizin’ with the voters and all that.” you wave off your father’s excuse to come down here.

“Certainly takes his job very seriously.” Nanami chuckles, “You’ll find him over by the window, in the back.” he points.

Tipping your head in thanks, you walk the treacherous track to take your animated father home. When you come in view of his table, you find that he wasn’t alone. Damn, it was always harder to convince him to go when with other people.

You know your father has spotted you by his lively laugh and gleeful shouts, “Ah, my daughter! My beautiful daughter! Whatcha doin’ here? Come come! There’s someone I wan’ introduce you to.”

A smile slips out unintentionally at his almost-endearing pride. You mentally prepare yourself to say some awkward hellos to some of your father’s old drinking buddies before dragging him home.

Upon reaching your father, he immediately pulls you into a drunken embrace, wrapping his slightly rocky arm around your shoulders. “This is the daughter I was telling ya about! Prettiest girl in town! Hell, maybe even the country, knowin’ ma girl.” he prattles.

In his jovial state, he abruptly turns to face whoever he was drinking with, unsteady on his two feet. Probably another old geezer, you assume not taking your eyes off your father until you could make sure he won’t collapse on the bar floor for the third time this month.

Finally, you look up.

Your eyes meet blue.

Blue, blue summer skies.

To Satoru, you were the most gorgeous girl he’d ever seen. As soon as he caught a glimpse of you menacingly threatening that creep outside through the window, every word the mayor said went in one ear and he couldn’t even remember if it went out the other. Too entranced.

And when he introduced you as his daughter? Shit, it might just be fate.

“C’mon now boy! Cat got yer’ tongue? What happened to that sharp mouth of yours?”

The booming voice of your father snaps Satoru out of his captivation. Damn, he must’ve been staring for too long.

Mentally praying you weren’t spooked by his speechlessness, he finally speaks, voice slightly shaky at your presence, “Ah- Good day m’lady. Apologies for my impoliteness, the name’s Satoru Gojo.” he tips his crisp white hat. Gently grasping your hand in his, he places a delicate kiss, looking up at you as he awaits your response.

You gaze, slightly awe-struck, at his ethereally beautiful white locks and the impish grin from where he held your hand. His lips were so soft.

“Oh!” you startle at the clap of your father’s hand on your shoulder. Shit, you were definitely staring too long. Rushing to introduce yourself, you quickly interject a “Nice to meet you, Satoru” before your father starts leading the conversation once more.

“Satoru here is a traveler, arrived jus’ today! Told him people like us could never, I mean imagine, right?” he slurs.

Your ears perk up at this piece of information, “Oh? Are you really a traveler, Satoru? How admirable.” you gush, previous bashfulness forgotten. Was that…a blush spreading across his face? Couldn’t be - your town's whiskey was known to give people rosy cheeks on occasion.

“Thank you, m’lady. It’s nothing special really, jus’ staying here a while.” he barely gets the words out before you father bellows a tangent - “Don’ be shy, boy! How wondrous traveling is, kids these days could use some toughening up!”

Both of you rush to catch your father as he sways with a passion seen only during election rallies. It takes the two of you to steady the man. As he continues babbling half-lucidly, you cock your head sweetly at Satoru, “Help me take him outside?”

Satoru thinks his knees might give out then and there.

The air is chilly by the time the three of you step outside, sun making its way below the horizon. Despite your father’s protests that he can ride home on his own, he knocks out as soon as Satoru gracefully mounts him on his horse. Carefully saddling behind him, you try to make sure your father doesn’t fall off of Satoru’s beautiful white Quarter horse.

“You really don’t have to escort us home, Satoru. My ol’ man wouldn’t even feel it if he fell, I swear.” you insist as Satoru holds onto the reins from the ground, feeling bad for bothering him.

“It’s no trouble. After all, Gege seems to like him very much, hm?” Satoru remarks as he turns to his stallion, who attempts to bite him in response, “Can’t say the same for myself.”

“Hmm, how can I be sure yer’ not a serial killer?” you tease, reveling in the sharp laugh it draws from him.

“You’ll jus’ have to take a chance on me, m’lady.” he hums, eyes sparkling with mirth. There’s a lull in the conversation as Satoru pulls on the reins to start walking you down the road, the rhythmic clip-clop! of the horse filling the still air.

“So you travel?”

“This is a nice town.”

Both of you speak at once, anxious to fill the silence, only to sputter self-consciously.

“You can-”

“No no, it’s only customary for a lady to go first.” he hums, looking up at you.

“Tell me stories of your travels.” you breathe out, eager for any crumb of escape from your little town.

As you made your way home to the sprawling family ranch, the night adorned itself with twinkling stars that matched the mischievous glint in Satoru’s eyes as he told you bizarre tales from his life on the road.

“IN MY DEFENSE, it was dark an’ that tumbleweed was shaped suspiciously like a lowly bandit. Hey- don’t laugh- it was a very heated standoff!” Satoru exclaims animatedly as you cackle.

“Yeah yeah, keep telling yourself that, cowboy. Even bandits woulda run away from your clownery.” delighted at the way the moonlight illuminates the blush that tinges his ears.

Making a fool of himself, Satoru’s stories have you laughing until your cheeks hurt, wishing you could experience them too. You almost forget about your father’s deafening snores and the bite of the wind.

But Satoru does not. Brows furrowing as he catches your slight shiver, he mentally berates himself for forgetting his manners. How dare he let a lady suffer the cold while he still had his fuckin’ coat! What a sorry excuse for a cowboy, this is worse than that time he accidentally lassoed a rattlesnake.

Hastily shrugging his coat off, he passes it to you with a sheepish smile on his face.

Face heating up against the cold draft, you breathe in the smell of pine, amber, and something so Satoru. Clearly not as affected as you are, Satoru launches back into his stories.

If Satoru thought his knees were going to give out before then he knows they’re about to now. He aims to keep his eyes steadfast on the road as he recalls his endeavors, because he’s aware that even one glance at you all wrapped up in his coat wouldn’t be too good for him.

Making out the warm lights in the distance, his heart falls as he realizes his time with you is drawing to an end. You seem to share similar sentiments, as you sigh silently.

Once again, a silence falls upon you two (well, three if your slumbering father counted) - but this time, it was serene. You could almost drift to sleep if it wasn’t for your mother’s frantic calls for you from the front porch.

“Oh, darlin’, I was so worried! I didn’t think it would be so late out!” she frets as Satoru helps you get down from his horse. Hands on your waist searing into your skin.

Clearly awoken due to the commotion, your dad stumbles his way down and towards your red brick villa.

“Ah, honey! I’m home…somehow…you know, I met the most interesting fella Something-toru. A wanderer, real interesting.” turning comically to Satoru, he exclaims in delight “Something-toru! How didya get ‘ere?”

Stifling his laughs, Satoru backs away, claiming he had to leave before your father roped him into more rounds of drinks. Which clearly didn’t work because your mother approaches him, “Stay, Satoru, stay! Can’t have you sleepin’ underneath some tree when you escorted our darling daughter all the way out here.”

Any refusals are immediately blocked out by your very inebriated father yelling out in agreement, claiming he wanted to listen to more of Satoru’s “funny lil’ stories”. Your parents head inside - well, more like your mother heads inside with your father in tow - having taken his speechlessness for agreement.

As you follow, you turn to Satoru, a strange part of you gleeful at the fact you won’t have to part with him for now. “We’ve got an extra room, and it’s got yer’ name on it. The stablehand will stall Gege, c’mon, it’ll be a lot better than the ground.” you grin.

“Hey! The ground can be very comfortable.” Satoru declares defensively, yet follows you inside anyway.

It’s only rushed goodbyes and promises to talk tomorrow morning as the housemaids fuss around Satoru. “Goodnight m’lady.” he’d winked as your head housekeeper clutched her pearls at his dirty boots on her recently polished hardwood floors.

That night, as you lay in your childhood bed, you realize that you still have Satoru’s coat on. Whether from his coat or something else entirely that you did not want to explore, you felt so warm inside.

---

Morning dawns with the symphony of the Western meadowlark that nudges you gently awake - usually. Today, it’s abruptly shattered as the door bursts open and someone barges into your room. Judging by the thud of hefty boots, you knew very well who it was.

“Rise n’ shine, m’lady!” Satoru’s voice - way too cheerful for six in the morning - chirps out.

It’s been a few days since Satoru has been staying with you. Now more a friend than a guest, you expect he’s come to wake you up for a morning ride with Gege, watching the sun rise as you exchange silly banter. But it’s so early…

“What do you want, Something-toru.” you grumble out from in-between your comfy covers. You secretly delight at his whines of “How dare you not remember my name, I even told you about the rattlesnake lasso!”

The warmth of your bed and the melody of Satoru’s voice has you sluggishly falling back asleep - that’s before he promptly sits on your bed. The force of it bouncing you both, making you sit up with a laugh.

Satoru was on your bed.

Satoru was on your bed. Shit, after what your father told him this morning, he wouldn’t blame you if you kicked him out with a punch to his pretty nose right this second. Mentally slapping himself a million times over, he hurriedly gets out the reason he was sent in to wake you up in the first place, “Ah- Um, the mayor is meeting with…someone important, wanted you to come down and meet him. Well, if tha’s all then I’ll be going, Gege won’t brush himself, sadly.”

And before you could get another word out, he’s swiftly out the door.

Satoru was on your bed. Your cheeks slightly heat up as you realize you didn’t mind?

His words ring in your ears as you get ready for the day - if it was someone important, then you might as well dress to impress. Impress someone else too. Shaking off these strange thoughts from your mind, you make your way downstairs, nose wrinkling at the smell of tobacco that greets you.

You’ve always hated the stench of the overpriced tobacco your father brings out to impress guests. “There she is! My daughter!” your father smiles, beckoning you over. “There’s someone who’s here to see you.”

Grimacing at the cloud of smoke, you take a seat on the plush sofa beside your father. He gestures at the man seated in front of him, “This here is Naoya.”

Despite his sharply handsome features, you shift uncomfortably at the way he watches you like a predator appraising his prey, eyes following your every movement. Apparently approving of what he saw, his lips curl into a smirk, “Your future husband.” he says saccharinely sweet.

What the fuck?

“Father?” you panickedly turn to him for answers, voice strained at your attempt to keep it even. But your father merely guffaws out a laugh, “Well well, nothing confirmed just yet. But you know with the way things are going with the re-election, might as well get to know a suitor and...” his voice trails off as he takes another puff of his cigar.

“My apologies sir, I refuse.” you drone out, looking straight at Naoya. You don’t miss the way his smirk grows leeringly as he mutters “You don’t have too much of a say in this matter, sweetcheeks.” The audacity.

Apparently your father doesn’t hear, a more grave expression taking over his face, “Now I’ve talked with Naoya, you’re of marriageable age. And as young as I feel, I won’t be around forever. You need someone to take care of you, dear. We’ve talked about this.”

Tears prick at your eyes as you abruptly stand up, disturbing the smoke around you. “I can take care of myself.” you spit out venomously, storming your way to the heavy front door in an attempt to run away from this situation.

In the dim sunlight filtering through the curtains, Naoya watches in amusement as you stomp out of the room. Hilarious, the feisty ones were always the best.

Over the mayor’s ramble of apologies, he grins “No don’t worry about that. She’ll be mine either way.”

The heavy wooden door creaks in protest as you slam it shut, echoing your frustration. The brisk air is a temporary relief from the suffocating atmosphere inside.

“Talked about this” your ass. Every conversation - if you can even call them that - was a heated warning about being married off before you end up a spinster. You couldn’t care less about ending up alone if it didn’t mean living life with a man that talked to you like that.

Your thoughts block out the crunch of the gravel beneath your boots as your feet subconsciously lead you to the stables, where you used to play hide-and-seek as a kid. More recently, though, it has become an escape from conversations like these.

Approaching its familiar wooden doors, you catch a glimpse of Satoru, back turned and meticulously grooming Gege.

Sensing your presence, he turns with an easy smile that quickly fades as he notices the deep furrow of your brows. “Hey there, m’lady. Everything alrigh’?” cerulean eyes flit across your face worriedly.

“Oh yeah, everything’s great. Just got introduced to my absolute asshat of a future husband.” as if Satoru’s concerned expression makes something in you snap, the words tumble out along with your tears.

“I don’t even- The way he looked at me- Can you even believe?”

Satoru was about to rip apart whoever this load of horse manure was that made tears streak down your pretty face. Throwing his brush down - which Gege didn’t quite appreciate - he quickly envelopes you in his arms, letting you muffle your sobs.

“Hey hey. It’ll be alright, we’ll work something out. I promise, m’lady.” he consoles.

Eventually, as your cries die down, you look up to see the rising sun casting a soft glow on Satoru’s features, illuminating the sincerity in his gaze.

The determined glint in his eyes emboldens you, “Yer’ right, I will not be forced into a marriage, especially with someone like Naoya. I’m not anyone’s property.”

A subtle warmth is present in Satoru’s gaze as he utters, “Tha’s my girl.” before reeling back and backtracking immediately, “Ah! I mean- good for you m’lady. Naoya ain’t the one. Anyway, tell me about this ‘asshat’.”

You raise a brow teasingly at his rapid change of demeanor, before plopping down on the hay, launching into your first impression of Naoya and why the rumors downtown of him making babies cry were probably true.

The sun shines high in the sky as you lay there in peaceful silence, only to be broken by the doubt weighing heavy on your mind. “I’m scared.” you admit.

Satoru turns from his place beside you from the hay, “It’s alright, you got Gege and myself beside you. If Naoya ain’t the one then he ain’t the one.”

Your eyes meet his twinkling gaze, “Yeah, he’s not the one.”

The air grows charged with something unspoken as the silence stretches out. Satoru can feel the tips of his ears burning at your words - stop it Satoru, she didn’t mean anything by it. As always, he retreats into humor to break the crackling silence.

“I’d help you hide the body, y’know. Then you can have a shotgun wedding with whoever you want to share your days with.”

“Oh yeah? What if he turns out just like that asshat?” you challenge.

“Well, if it doesn’t work out, you can always run away with me. Fightin’ tumbleweeds together.” Satoru makes light of the situation, in an attempt to etch that beautiful smile on your face once more. It works, as you throw your head back and laugh.

“Yeah, I’d love that.” you get out in-between giggles.

If someone looked at you like Satoru did, you probably wouldn’t mind marrying them. A voice whispers in the back of your mind, sending your brows furrowing once again.

Meanwhile, Satoru finally had a name for your future not-husband - Naoya.

Urgently getting up and removing the hay stuck to your clothes once you hear your housemaids calling for you, you leave Satoru with a grateful smile that had him swooning out loud immediately after the stable door shut - to the very visible judgment of Gege.

It felt like a knife in his chest when the mayor tittered secretly to him about your future husband this morning, thoughts of you getting married plaguing his mind all morning. Well, if you were happy then it’s fine, isn’t it?

He was halfway through imagining you in a beautiful dress of white when you’d arrived with a cloudy expression covering your gorgeous features. If Satoru had thought hearing about your fiancé was like being stabbed, then the despair on your face made him feel like he was completely cleaved in half.

You deserve someone that deserves you. Probably not him. Certainly not Naoya.

Walking back to the house to fetch his riding gloves, he’s lost in the thoughts of standing off against a faceless man calling himself your husband when he bumps into somebody.

“My apolog- Asshat?” Satoru blurts out at the man testily raising a brow at him.

“Excuse you, barn boy?” he fumes, at the nickname that slips by. Ah, he’s done it now. Lips tweaking into a forced smile, Satoru grits out, “Ah, apologies, sir. Cowboy tendencies.”

The air is tense as Naoya mutters, “Keep those to yourself.” He moves to walk past Satoru, before stopping close enough to utter words meant for only him to hear, “And stay away from my future bride. I saw the hay on her skirt, yer’ insane to think you’d have a chance, barn boy. Go back to wanderin’ around.”

Satoru stands rooted to the spot as Naoya walks off, too many emotions he can’t name whirling inside him. That morning, he stalks off for his longest ride since arriving at Rustcliffe - not coming back with Gege until well after midnight.

---

To Satoru, long rides always mean interesting dreams. Right now he was in a tap-dancing competition against a one-eyed alligator who looked suspiciously like your father. It’s a shame - he was winning too - that the competition is suddenly crashed by an angel calling for him.

“Satoru…Satoru!”

An angel that sounded like…you?

“Satoru if you don’t wake up I’m feedin’ your boots to Gege.”

His eyes shoot open, yet his sleep-addled brain still struggles to process you standing over his bed, soft hands shaking his bare shoulders lightly. “Angel?” he rasps out.

You huff out a laugh, “No, I’m here to drag you to hell - or close enough at least.”

Face burning at already making a fool of himself before noon, he sits up in bed, blanket sliding off to reveal his toned upper-half.

Shit, it should be illegal to casually have a body like that.

Trying your best to avert your eyes from the dips and curves of his sculpted body, you continue, “My father’s holdin’ Rustcliffe’s annual Harvest Hoedown in a few weeks, the whole town’s gonna be there. You made it just in time for some dancing lessons.”

“What makes you think I need dancing lessons?” Satoru raises a brow playfully. You take a brief moment to admire the way his sleep-tousled hair curtains his alluring eyes, before replying in an ominous tone, “I need dancing lessons.”

Wow, you really did need dancing lessons, Satoru notes as he stifles a laugh when you step on the poor instructor’s foot for the fifth time this afternoon.

Locked in the stuffy studio, he recalls the way your father demanded that you not step one foot outside until you mastered the upbeat waltz for the hoedown - putting Satoru in charge of making sure you don’t slip away. “It’s stupid really, he’s never had a problem with me sitting out before. All because that asshat will be there…” you’d muttered hotly on the way.

Ah yes, that asshat. Sleep weighs heavily on Satoru’s eyes from riding all night long, yet his words still ring painfully in his ears. Who did he even think he was to have a chance with you?

Well, it’s alright, Satoru will be out of this town in a few months, and you’ll marry some man of your choice that could give you everything you could ever want.

The only thing that snaps Satoru out of his overthinking tirade is the abrupt pause of the music and the heavy sigh the dance instructor lets out - clearly having taken a break for his own sake rather than yours. You shuffle sheepishly across the polished floor to where Satoru stands, “Was it worse than you thought?” you grimace.

“Well, you always do find a way to surprise me, m’lady” he teases, chuckling at your dramatic groan. Out of the corner of your eye, you spot the instructor rushing outside for a smoke. Hopefully not because of your dancing…

You scoff in defense as Satoru’s cackles grow louder - having thought the same thing. “Well, I’m sure the great Something-toru is much better on his feet.”

Instead of retorting, he steps one heavy boot onto the waxy dance floor, holding out a hand expectantly. “C’mon, I’ll show you.”

“But, there’s no music?” you raise a brow, yet you place your hand in his much larger ones. Soft, his hands were surprisingly soft. And so warm.

“Did I mention I was a great singer too?” he grins, a small dimple at the corner of his mouth as he pulls you closer.

Shit, it was way too hot to be cooped up in a dance studio. Or maybe it was just Satoru’s hand around your waist, making your skin burn through your heavy skirts. They flow around you as he glides you gently across the floor.

You train your eyes steadily on your feet - partly out of necessity, and partly out of fear of meeting Satoru’s intense gaze.

The only sounds filling the small studio were the squeaks of your boots and Satoru’s soft humming of a nonexistent tune. It was beautiful, his voice. It reminded you of calm summer days.

“Ah- sorry!” you panic as you step on his toe, only for him to pause his melody and huff out a laugh.

“Step on them as much as you want, m’boots are thick.”

You’re sure he meant this only to bate your embarrassment, but something about his words and the warm endearment in his gaze have your cheeks heating up. You focus on your steps in silence as he guides you patiently, tenderly.

Pride grows in your chest as you start stepping on his boots every six steps instead of two. Satoru seems to have noticed too, “Hey! You’ve improved, m’lady.” he whispers, as if afraid to break the stillness in that humid room as you two continue your silent dance.

Loud clapping from the doorway makes you two jump apart, shattering the serene bubble you’ve found refuge in. “Brilliant! I thought I’d come across my first hopeless case, yet you’ve worked absolute wonders Mr. Satoru!”

Your escape is quick, you urgently drag Satoru out the door before he can be forcibly recruited as a dance teacher.

You heave out a sigh of relief at your freedom from the treacherous clutches of the dance studio. Merciless sunlight stinging your face, you begin to make your way through the dusty hustle and bustle of Rustcliffe in the afternoon.

Now, all you had to do was avoid bumping into your father for the rest of the day and you should be fine!

Speed-walking by Ol’ Rustcliffe Saloon, you’re confused when you’re faced with a few more drunken stares than usual. Surely your new skirt can’t be that flattering?

With a jolt, you realize you’re still grasping Satoru’s warm hand in his. Dropping it as if it burned, your cheeks heat up at the mirth on his features. “Not that I’m complainin,” he grins, “but warn a guy next time you manhandle him. S’not good for the heart, m’lady.”

Rolling your eyes at his joke, you begin pointing out the things to see as you walk the familiar old roads of Rustcliffe, detailing the town gossip.

It really was not good for his heart, Satoru was sure he’ll drop dead very soon one of these days because of you.

He couldn’t rip his eyes off of you as you animatedly talked about granny Wei wrestling Mrs. Davidson for her secret brownie recipe.

Shit, he was really getting in too deep.

Night falls fast, a deep shade of blue.

Saying your goodbyes to Nanami at Ol’ Rustcliffe Saloon - at a time you knew your father wouldn’t be around - your heart swells as Satoru excitedly rambles about “Good ol’ Nanamin! What a chip off the old block, we became fast friends y’know?”

You didn’t expect your mission to avoid your father to turn into an impromptu Rustcliffe tour. But watching Satoru’s face light up as you told him silly little stories of your childhood, you wouldn’t have changed it one bit.

Sent off with a cheery “Come back soon deary!”, you’re exhausted by the time you say all your goodbyes to the people of the town.

“You’re loved, y’know?” Satoru speaks up out of nowhere as you steady yourself behind him on the saddle.

“Hm?” you ask, fatigued from spending the day walking around town. A large hand caresses your cheek to rest your head against his back, tightening your arms around his waist.

Lightly snapping the reins, he repeats, “You’re loved.”

You drift on his words gently to sleep, the clip-clop! of the horse matching the deafening beat of your heart against your ribcage. If only you could be like this forever.

SLAM!

You wake up with a start, only to find yourself…hovering? Surely there must be a valid explanation - you really didn’t feel like doing an exorcism right now.

It takes a while of your nonsense to realize you’re being carried by strong arms supporting your back and legs.

“S-Satoru?” you ask blearily.

“Shhh, forgive me, m’lady. Didn’t think that damn door would be so loud.” he responds, bed creaking under his weight as he softly sets you down.

Smiling down at your incoherent mumbles, he whispers softly “It’s alrigh’, you can rest now. Goodnight m’lady.”

Struggling to rip his gaze from your gracefully sleep-addled one, it’s only the thought of someone in the house catching him in this position that makes him stand up.

A hand - uncharacteristically swift - grasps his wrist, stopping his tip-toeing to the door. “Satoru…” your groggy call of his name sends shivers down his spine. Hesitatingly following the gentle pull of your hand, he kneels beside your bed.

“Yes, m’lady?” he breathes.

You surge forward, sleep hazing the practical side of your mind. Acting on pure instinct, your soft lips meet his.

Satoru freezes in surprise as a beat passes. One. Two.

He stays in the same position when you flop back onto your pillow, soft snores filling the otherwise pin-drop silence. His lips burn as he brings up a hand to touch them in disbelief, stifling an euphoric laugh.

You startle awake in the middle of the night, after some questionable dream about Satoru carrying you to the bed and you kissing him.

Imagine. Ha!

Settling back into where you were carefully tucked into bed, you snuggle the warm coat at your side.

Wait. Shit.

---

If either of you remembered what happened that night, neither of you mentioned it.

Oftentimes, you questioned whether it was a dream. The only thing keeping you from fully believing so being the intensity in Satoru’s stare whenever his eyes briefly flickered to your lips and the hasty retreats whenever it seemed like you would bring up the topic.

But why wasn’t he saying anything? And why did he not want you to?

In fear of messing up the comfortable camaraderie you two had, you continued this magnetic dance of normalcy. But honestly could you really consider it “normal” if each gaze was charged with something neither of you could describe?

But why wasn’t he saying anything? And why did he not want you to?

You could only imagine the worst.

Satoru thinks he’s died and gone to heaven. Well, probably a bit below heaven, because - ideally - there you’d be his wife and Gege would actually like him.

It’s alright, even if just for a sleep-hazed second, he was yours. And he didn’t want to hear you apologize for it.

Still riding the euphoria of that brief kiss, he goes about life as usual, sure that you would be one of his favorite stories from his travels.

---

“WELCOME ALL TO RUSTCLIFFE ANNUAL HARVEST HOEDOWN! WE GOT HARVEST, WE GOT HORSES, WE GOT SOME HOE- Oh- what? yes, dear that was on my script…” your father’s voice bellows across town from the loudspeaker.

You breathe in the warm, candy-scented air, fairy lights illuminating the colorful stalls selling everything from candied apples to binoculars (“Spy On Your Neighbors Without Worry!”).

Place ringing with the bustle and chatter of the town, you think it feels like something out of a picture book.

A warm smile finds its way onto your face, you’ve loved the Harvest Hoedown since you were a kid. Here, you can forget the longing for something more, the rows at home about your looming engagement, and most of all - you can almost forget Satoru.

Ever since that kiss, you’ve found it hard to face him. Sure, the banter and half-joking schemes to murder Naoya are the same. But your heart clenches every time he looks at you with a tender melancholy, losing the words to apologize for taking advantage of his kindness.

“Come come! It’s startin’!” you hear gleefully from your left. Before you can register what’s happening, you’re pulled into a circle of bodies dancing to an upbeat tune.

Laughter bubbling out of you as you lose yourself in the song, you turn to your right and see…your dance instructor, who is very visibly (and audibly) praying for his feet. Dramatic. You’ve learned a lot recently with Satoru’s help.

Oh, there he is again. For someone that leaves place so swiftly, he sure is set on living permanently in your mind.

Hidden amongst the audience, Satoru cackles at the distress on Mr. Dance Instructor’s face. Little did he know, with a bit of Satoru’s magic you’ve improved - stepping on his toes only once every fifteen steps!

He was so proud of his girl.

Ah, except you’re not. You’re so much more. And he’s reminded of that every time you averted your eyes from his during dance lessons, the proximity of your bodies doing nothing for how out of reach you felt to him.

He rips his gaze from you, walking away from the growing crowd. Where was that damn drinks table again?

It’s past twelve as the townsfolk start pairing up for the hoedown couples dancing. You’ve usually sat this one out, not one for the complicated steps nor the intimacy.

Out of the corner of your eye, you spy your parents waltzing in their own world. How nice it must be. Your supposed asshat of a dance partner was over by the drinks talking with some men, barely looking your way.

Guess the dance lessons were for nothing. Frustrated and slightly tipsy, you move to make your way off the dance floor.

Suddenly, a large hand blocks your view of the exit. Who the-

Satoru.

Ears tinged a pretty red, and eyes slightly dazed, he hiccups over the rich music “Would you- dance with me, m’lady?”

Maybe it was the beer, maybe it was the way his face flushed your favorite delicate pink - but you slide your hand into his warm one, “I’d be honored to, Satoru.”

A strong arm pulling you flush against his body, faces only inches apart. His hot breath fans you as Satoru murmurs, “Looked s’beautiful tonight. Best dancer in town I’d say.”

“Only cuz’ of you, Satoru.” you chuckle at his genuine tone as he steers you across the dance floor. Feet in perfect sync, the waltz fades into the background as you look into his tired eyes.

“Nah, tha’s all you, m’lady. I’m nothing much.” he grins morosely.

Your brows furrow at his words, clearly something was wrong. And this wasn’t the place to talk about it. “Come with me.” you utter, pulling him along with you to a place you knew he’d love.

Little ol’ Rustcliffe wasn’t called that for nothing.

The air is tense, the chatter of crickets fill the silence between you two as you guide him to your haven, hand still tightly in his. It’s a steep walk uphill from the outskirts of town, a place you’d stumbled upon during one dashing attempt to escape from this town as a tween.

“Finally here.” you exhale as you reach your destination, fireflies lighting the way.

“Hah- If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were tryin’ to murder-” Satoru’s voice dies in his throat as he drinks in the view before him.

The twinkling lights of the entire town of Rustcliffe reflect in his eyes like constellations. Townsfolk barely discernible from this distance, yet the soft jovial music carried over. It was beautiful.

Satoru looks at you in awe as you lay down on the ground and point upwards, “Tha’s not all, cowboy.”

Quickly getting on the ground beside you - albeit at a safe distance - his mouth gapes wider at the perfect carpet of stars above him. A celestial version of what he saw below. He turns his head to see you bathed in the moonlight. This place was beautiful.

“Satoru, are we okay?‘ you voice out in concern. He’s taken aback by the sudden turn in conversation. You cut off his scramble to make a joke, “I’m serious. Please talk to me.”

He can never win against you.

Heaving out a sigh, “Maybe. Who knows. But whatever it is, please don’t apologize for that kiss, let me have it.”

Now it’s your turn to be surprised, “Let you have it? Satoru, why wouldn’t you have it?”

“M’lady, I don’t know if you’re aware, but you’re like fireworks. Captivating and fierce. That kiss was a mistake, and soon enough you’ll find a rich, handsome-”

“I only want you.”

“I’m leaving soon.” he retorts.

“I only want you.” you repeat, stubbornly.

“I’m leaving m’lady.” he argues.

“No- Satoru-”

“And I’m childish. I’m insecure. I’ll never be able to provide for you the way you deserve.” he plows on, emotion cracking his voice.

“Satoru, I love you.” you breathe out.

Satoru’s breath catches in his throat, the silence was deafening. “What was that?” he turns, voice quiet with disbelief.

“Well, I don’t know if you’re aware, cowboy, but you’re like blue summer skies. And I just so happen to love blue summer skies.” you huff out, finally understanding the reason for his behavior these past few weeks.

“I don’t expect a huge mansion, or some enormous ranch, or even a cowboy that knows the difference between a lasso and a rattlesnake. I just don’t want anyone else, Satoru.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yes.”

“And…you’re sure? Really sure?”

“Yes.”

Silence punctures your conversation once more, broken only by a loud cackle. You turn in disbelief at his change in demeanor, “All cheered up now, Satoru?”

“Why would you have feelings for me? Was it the tumbleweed story that did it for you?” he gets out through laughs. It was contagious, and soon enough you yourself joined him, clutching your stomach.

In the thoughtful silence that follows, you find yourself inching closer to him until your faces are mere centimeters apart. “Blue summer skies and fireworks don’t go too well together.” he breathes.

“We’ll make something work out, remember?” you hum.

Your first kiss with Satoru was a sleep-addled mistake.

The second was when his lips capture yours as if they were the source of life itself.

Rolling on top of you, he’s careful to not rest his full weight as his lips don’t leave you, tongue caressing yours. Satoru tastes sweet - like hard candy and your father’s bottle of Baileys. Pulling away a hair's breadth, he whispers against your lips, “Let me be yours?”

“You probably say this to all the girls, hm?” you tease him, as revenge for making you wait so long. He softly bites your lips in retaliation, relishing in your drawn-out whine. “Yes, fine. If only you’ll let me be yours.”

Clearly approving of your answer, he continues his dance with your lips. Barely parting to breathe, as if it hurt to leave you.

And it did. A low groan sounds from the back of his throat as Satoru kisses you with the desperation from these past few weeks. His hands stayed firmly cupping your face, as if scared to move elsewhere. Yours, however, was wandering the expanse of his back, and it was driving him insane.

“M’lady…” he breathes out at the feeling of your legs wrapping around his hips, a warning.

You knew where this was going and you don’t know if you’ve wanted anything so bad. “Satoru, I need you.” you mutter, words punctuated by pecks to his swollen lips.

Maybe that’s the trigger that sets him off. It’s not long before Satoru is kissing you again. Pinning down your arms with one hand, he rolls his hips into yours. You gasp as you feel the outline of his hard cock straining against his trousers.

He was so big.

Your pussy drips with anticipation and fear of what was about to come.

Satoru thinks he might be getting whiplash, how was it that an hour ago he was moping in his loneliness and now he’s got you underneath him? Silently thanking whoever was up there, he wanders a hand down your body. Fingers trailing teasingly above where you wanted him the most.

“Tell me what you want, m’lady.” he rasps. Now Satoru is sure he’s getting whiplash when you grind your hips up into his hand, whining “Need you- on me.”

Skirts hastily pushed up, Satoru shuffles so his face is right hovering right above your pulsing core. In the cool moonlight, he can see the way you get wetter at each hot breath on your cunt. “Please Satoru.”

You were not good for his heart. Surging forward so he’s nose-deep in your pussy, Satoru’s tongue flattens against your swollen folds. His eyes roll to the back of his at your taste. You tasted better than the candy at the hoedown.

Your desperate whines for more send blood rushing to his cock, twitching achingly against his trousers. Leisurely dipping between your folds, he watches with blown-out eyes as you grind your hips deeper into his face, keeping a firm grip on his soft locks. Using him.

Shit, if this was your reaction to him teasing you…

Your whimpers of pleasure and lewd squelches of your cunt fill the night air as he plunges his tongue inside your clenching hole, fucking you at a merciless rhythm. His brows furrow as his tongue dips in and out relentlessly. He sinfully loves the burn of his scalp as you pull his hair to angle him just right.

Thumb harshly circling your clit, Satoru thinks he loses a bit of his sanity at every moan of his name that leaves your pretty mouth. “You taste s’good. So perfect for me, m’lady.” his voice sends vibrations to your pussy that have you feeling your heartbeat banging in two places.

“Hngh- Satoru, don’ stop!” you mewl as his nose catches on your clit, clamping down on his tongue. He continues his movements, breathing you in so sinfully. Air was overrated - Satoru Gojo, famously daring traveler and devilishly handsome, dies here between your legs. He wouldn’t even mind.

“Cum in my mouth, m’lady. Please.” he begs, voice muffled by your dripping cunt. He locks eyes with your fucked out ones as he pulls you by the thighs impossibly closer to him. He never wanted to part.

The stimulation of his voice in addition to his fingers and tongue becomes too much. “Satoru! Hah- M’ gonna cum-”

Tears spring to your eyes as you cum all around Satoru’s tongue. He doesn’t let up his harsh abuse of your pulsing pussy, groaning as he laps up your juices - your slick pooling at the corner of his mouth.

He was so greedy for you. Shit, this is so much better than he’s imagined every night he’s fucked his fist in that lonely room.

As both of you attempt to catch your breaths, the chattering song of crickets and distant music from the Harvest Hoedown fill the air once more. Satoru looks at you with a devious glint in his eyes that has your cunt twitching once more.

You’d felt his rock-hard length. And you wanted it now.

“Satoru. let me feel you in my mouth, please.” you murmur. Kneeling before him, you look up at him with eager eyes. At his slow nod, you give an experimental squeeze to the large imprint of his cock, thighs rubbing together at Satoru’s drawn-out hiss.

“Oh, m’lady. You drive me insane.” he groans.

Cursing the heavy trousers that cowboys wear, you fumble it down his legs. Muscles, creamy thighs come into your view, making your mouth water.

In the dim lighting, you see the precum drip down Satoru’s flushed cock. The prominent vein down his side glistens prominently. Shit, he’d never fit in your mouth let alone your cunt. But you wanted it so bad.

Satoru’s heavy breaths sound in the still air as your bruised lips inch closer to his throbbing cock. A deep breath, and you spit on his blushing head, saliva dripping down the side of his length and to where you gently grasped his base.

It was filthy, it was debauched. You absolutely loved it.

Satoru lets out a strangled moan as you flatten your tongue and take his tip into your mouth, sucking gently. He bucks his hips into your mouth as you run your tongue along his sensitive slit “Shit- Sorry, m’lady. You’re just hah- too good.”

Popping off his aching cock, you press kisses to the side of his length. He groans lowly at the vibrations as you speak about something that has been on your mind for a while now, “Satoru, don’t you think we’re past formalities now?”

“Well, I could call you my goddess?” he smiles. “Or my angel? Or-” Satoru chokes on his words as you take him fully into your mouth - partly because you needed him to shut up, and partly because you cunt ached with need.

“Sh-shit. Jus’ like that.” he rasps as you suck him at a dizzying pace. Precum drips down the side of your mouth as you take him in deeper - nose meeting the snowy white hair on his pelvis.

Your mouth burns at the stretch, his hips grinding lightly into your mouth to meet each bob of your head. Your pussy drips once more at how desperate Satoru was.

His mouth drops open in a silent gasp as you move to take his tight balls into your mouth. You admire the dazed look in his darkened eyes. “Oh god- I’m gonna cum. Please, let me cum in your mouth, m’lady.” he murmurs, eyes rolling to the back of his head as you continue your ruthless pace.

As soon as your lips are around his cock once more, Satoru comes fast and hard with a gravelly moan. Hot spurts of his seed dribble down the corner of your mouth as you take it all in.

Ah, this wasn’t what you had planned when you brought him here - but you sure weren’t complaining.

Satoru just about passes out when you stick out your tongue to show you’ve swallowed every drop of cum he gave, cock twitching once more. He needed you in a way that would make a hooker blush.

Finding his voice, “As much as I’d love to ravish you right here, m’lady, I think you deserve somethin’ a bit more comfortable.” He swats at a mosquito attacking him as you grin devilishly.

---

Gege has never flown across the dry ground of Rustcliffe faster.

Wind in your hair and Satoru’s arms warmly around your middle, you feel the thundering of his heartbeat against your back - matching your own. You admire his moonlit profile, the light casting an otherworldly glow over his cloud-like hair. You could probably go anywhere if it was by his side.

You’ve never been happier to see that familiar ol’ ranch.

Navigating your sprawling villa, you find, is close to impossible with a relentless Satoru pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses to your neck.

“Satoru…we gotta make it to the bed.” you giggle, drunk off of him rather than the liquor from before. He sighs impatiently, before promptly lifting you off of your feet. His hat and hip holster falling to god-know-where as he runs up the stairs to your bedroom with you in his arms.

The thud of heavy boot echoes throughout the empty house - your parents still at the Harvest Hoedown. It reminds you of the night you first kissed him. As he slams your door shut and pushes you against it, however, you never in your wildest dreams would have thought that it’ll lead to this.

Tongue tangling with Satoru’s, feet still not reaching the ground. You don’t think you’ll make it out of this alive. Nor will Satoru.

Satoru is definitely not making it out alive.

He’s barely stepped a foot into your bedroom before he’s got his hands all over you - groping and teasing every inch of your body he can find. Your legs wrapped around him, he holds you in the air, hands roughly squeezing your ass.

His lips don’t leave yours, tasting himself on your tongue - even as he bunches your skirts around your hips. Exhaling in relief as his hands meet your bare lips, he holds a finger to your pulsing core.

You whimper at the feeling, still sensitive from before. He drinks in your mewls of pain and pleasure, lips curling into a smug smile. “Still sensitive, m’lady? You poor thing. How will you take my cock if yer’ like this?”

Your groan of impatience turns into a panicked whine as Satoru moves towards the bed, “Maybe we should tuck you in bed for now? Continue this tomorrow?”

Reading the challenge in his eyes, you immediately free yourself from his hold. His confused gaze soon turns into a surprised one as you push him roughly onto the bed, straddling him after.

“You always do surprise me.” he laughs out between the magnetic kisses you leave on his lips. Buttons fling across the room as you rip his shirt in impatience - fingers too dripping in lust to work through them. You’re sure if the same could be done to your heavy prairie skirt, then it would’ve suffered a similar fate.

You run your hands along his sculpted body greedily, as you’d wanted to since the first time you saw him shirtless. He hisses at the friction and the impatience at wanting to do the same to you, fingers fumbling with your complicated clasps.

After much frustration and curses on whoever invented corsets, you’re finally exposed in front of Satoru.

Shit, he really should call you his goddess. Because in the dim lighting of your bedroom, he thinks he’s in heaven as you sit atop him, bare and needy for him. Fuck Naoya. Fuck any faceless suitable husband. Eyes half-lidded and lips kiss-bitten, you’re like this because of him.

Grinding his now-bare hips against yours, a low groan rips from his throat at the feeling of your swollen folds spreading against his aching cock. Your dripping slick mixes with his as he continues rutting into you.

“Ah! Enough teasin’, Satoru- Want you inside me.” you whimper sinfully.

Your words make Satoru snap. Wordlessly, he sheaths himself inside you with a sigh of relief. Moans leave his throat unrestrained as he bullies his cock deeper and deeper inside your hot cunt. “Fuck. S’tight, your pretty pussy is suckin’ me in so good m’lady.” he hisses out, brows furrowed in pleasure.

Satoru could feel himself losing more and more of his sanity every time your plushy walls clenched down on him as he pulled out to fuck up into with harsh thrusts. It was so animalistic, the way your perfect cunt couldn’t bear to part with him.

Your slick drips down his length and onto his heavy balls each time he rams into you at a merciless cadence. Soft yelps of his name leave your lips every time his tip kisses your cervix.

Ah, this time he was actually going to pass out. Your pretty whines, your dripping cunt, the way your tits jiggled so enticingly at each thrust - it was all too much.

Angling you slightly with his bruising grip on your hips, Satoru smiles with satisfaction at that one spot that makes you convulse on his cock. Abs burning at the pace, he hits it over and over. Your nails dig into the muscle of his shoulder, moans of his name leaving you against your will.

You were sure to be absolutely covered in marks tomorrow.

But that was a problem for later you. Right now, all you could focus on was grinding your hips down to meet Satoru’s thrusts, eager for him to hit that spot even harder. Your eyes roll to the back of your head at the painfully good stretch of your snug cunt. So full.

“K-keep going, Satoru. Don’ stop, please.” Your rickety bed creaks in protest at each relentless thrust, overpowered only by the stinging smacks of his balls against your ass.

It was so filthy. So debauched. And you absolutely loved it.

As Satoru’s hands sneak down to draw rough circles on your clit, you feel yourself getting closer and closer towards cumming. Leaning down to capture his lips with yours once more, you whisper against his mouth, “Satoru, I’m- Hngh-”

He connects his sweaty forehead with yours, “Mm. me too. Fuck, gonna fill this pretty pussy up. You want that, m’lady?”

Just the thought of being so full of Satoru sends you over the edge. You cum with a lewd moan of his name, cunt clenching so impossibly tight around his cock.

“Ah! Shit.” Satoru grits out at the way your walls were fluttering around him so perfectly. Your whimpers as you gush around him sounds like music to his ears.

Satoru thinks he sees heaven as he cums. A part of his soul parting with him that night. Thick ropes of his seed paint your walls white, strained whispers of your name leaving his mouth as if a prayer. As if you were his goddess.

A feral part of him keeps bucking his hips into you, letting you ride out your highs together. Fucking his cum deeper and deeper - claiming you as his.

You do the same in your own way - biting down on Satoru’s exposed neck. Hard. His strong arms wrap around you to keep you from moving away, letting you use him as you please.

Cum drips down your legs, staining your blanket.

As your highs finally bate, you blink out the haze from your eyes. Looking up at Satoru from where you were snuggled into the crook of his neck, admiring the innocent blush adorning his face and his glossy, bruised lips. Both of you so overstimulated and euphoric.

“Got any travel stories like this?” you chuckle out, half-delirious and exhausted from what just transpired in this room.

“Not at all.” Satoru breathes out, pulling you closer to him, closing his hazy eyes to the sex-filled air.

That night, squeezed into your warm single bed, Satoru tells you stories of before his travels. You’re unsure if your parents are home yet, and right now with Satoru in your arms - you don’t care.

You listen as he rambles about growing up in the quaint town of Summer Pass. How he was raised with beautiful parents, a wonderful life. Yet, since the passing of his best friend, he’d taken up what the two had been dreaming of since they were children - wandering the world.

“I’m afraid, if I stay too long then it always ends up hurtin’.” he whispers into the still night. Caressing his hair, you pull him into your warm embrace. Your heart weighs heavy as the back of your mind pangs with the realization that Satoru will still leave despite this.

Both of you fall asleep reminiscing talks of your childhoods. In your exhausted state, maybe you misheard - but you could’ve sworn by the “I love you, m’lady.” Satoru whispered against your lips right before you closed your eyes.

Limbs intertwined till you’re unsure where one ends and the other starts, you have the most peaceful sleep in a long time.

You’re unsure when Satoru snuck out of your room. The only evidence of last night being the washcloth on your bedside table that he’d tenderly cleaned you up with, and a singular button from his shirt at the foot of your bed.

Cheeks heating once you catch sight of it, you make your way down to breakfast in your most well-covered dress.

What you certainly didn’t expect was to be interrogated by your mother. “So…” she begins. ”When did you come home, darling? We didn’t see you at the hoedown after midnight.”

Ah, suddenly these scrambled eggs just did not want to go down your throat. “Jus’...went to see somethin’ interesting.” you respond, eyes meeting with Satoru’s amused ones across the table as he subtly plays footsies with you underneath.

---

Sneaking around with a secret cowboy boyfriend doesn’t just happen in books, you realize. It’s a lot easier since Naoya is around a lot more often than usual. The only thing he might be good for may be keeping your parents entertained…

Since then, Satoru, you conclude, really does not like L-words: namely, Love and Leaving.

Despite his breathless confession that night, Satoru hasn’t said anything more about his feelings towards you - nor when he’ll be leaving.

It’s okay, you have time. You console yourself, as you lay in bed with him after he’d snuck into your room as per usual, pulling his warm presence closer to yours. But Satoru’s inevitable departure looms closer and closer like a dark cloud above your head.

It’s only two months after that night, when you’ve retreated from another engagement conversation you shut down, that Satoru brings it up. Hands intertwined and watching the sunset on top of your father’s barn, he utters in an uncharacteristically grave tone “I planned to leave next week, m’lady.”

Your heart pricks at his words. You knew this was coming.

Clenching your fists in self-assurance, your words tumble out.

“Let me come with you.”

“Let me stay with you.”

The nostalgic lullaby of the world around you is deafening as you and Satoru reel back in synchronized surprise.

“You- stay?”

“Wait- huh?”

Brow raised, you gesture at him to continue. “I just- I thought maybe I could stay here. Build a life with you, if you’d like, m’lady.”

Your eyes widen in surprise. Satoru - who smiles brightest when talking of his tales of travel - was offering to settle down?

“W-what? Satoru, why would you? You love traveling.” you sputter out in disbelief. His smile grows, as does the warmth in his eyes. “I’ve found something I love a lot more.” he murmurs, with a playful bite to the crook of your neck.

You crack a smile at his sincerity, though you shake your head in disagreement. “You should be out there explorin’ the world, Satoru. And…I want to be right by your side.”

“I thought you loved this place?”

“I do.” you sigh. “But I feel so trapped.”

Resting your head on Satoru’s shoulders, you admit how dear Rustcliffe is to you - although oftentimes you try to deny it - and how you want to leave just as much.

The stars wink at you two mischievously by the time you’re done, a twinkle that matches the look in Satoru’s eyes as he announces, “So~ We run away together in a blaze of glory. End scene, credits roll, Gege win’s best actor.”

“Exactly. Although I prefer the term unannounced relocation.” you hum, relishing in his bark of laughter. “Now, c’mon, cowboy. We gotta get up early for that damn election rally tomorrow.”

Heading back home as inconspicuous as possible is always tedious. In addition to praying away your swollen lips, you head in innocently at different times.

Hurriedly greeting your housekeeper, you attempt to make a swift escape to your room. Only to be blocked by…Naoya?

“We meet again, sweetcheeks.” he smiles, stepping closer towards you. Determined to stand your ground, you stare menacingly up at him. “Hello, my apologies for being so unavailable to meet these days. Business, y’know.” your voice steady.

“Ah, yes. I know.” he hums dangerously. Looming closer to your face, you smell the tobacco on his breath as he mutters, “It’s no matter, your father and I have gone through with our conversations. You and I will announce our engagement tomorrow at your father’s rally. That is final.”

“I’ve talked with you about this, I’ve screamed at you about this. I will not marry you no matter what my father nor anyone else says.” you grit out through clenched teeth.

“Why? Got anyone in mind? Think it’ll be anyone else your father approves of?” he raises a brow, delicately raising the neckline of where your dress had dripped down - where Satoru had nipped before.

He knows.

“Not at all.” you smile sweetly. Not waiting for a response, you run upstairs. Seems like running away in a blaze of glory might have to hurry up.

Twisting and turning the entire night, you don’t get a wink of sleep, mind a whirlwind of how you’d get Satoru and run away before the announcement.

It was terrifying.

---

Parading around town in an itchy engagement dress under the boiling sun on your father’s collection of purebred Italian horses (+ Gege) wasn’t exactly how you wanted to spend an ideal morning. But it wasn’t the worst.

You snuck glances at Satoru riding in front of you, looking devastatingly handsome as ever.

Naoya had been terrifyingly quiet all morning. You could feel his penetrating stare on you, scrutinizing every movement and every conversation. He rides beside you - your soon-to-be husband.

As the procession ends at your father’s podium, where he proudly takes a stand. As he plows on with an inspirational speech that has the audience in cheers, your mind runs a mile a minute as you slip away from the stage. Even in your gauzy white dress, it’s easy to get lost in the animated crowds of Rustcliffe - which you and Satoru use to your advantage.

This was happening. You were going to finally leave.

Heart clenching at the sight of your jovial parents onstage, you take a long look before turning away. It’s okay, it’s alright. This is something you’ve been wanting for years.

Brain whirring at the letters you’d send them on your travels, you miss the harsh gaze following you.

“Satoru!” you gasp at the blur of white and black that embraces you as soon as you step foot into Ol’ Rustcliffe Saloon. The bar, empty for the first time in years since your father’s last rally, was your hastily chosen place of refuge.

Nanami, who wasn’t initially too keen on being involved, had sympathized once he saw the look on your face. “Alright, but if anyone asks - you two were never here. Not too good for business, y’know.” he’d stated, permitting you two to do whatever you please.

Although, it probably was worth noting that he’d almost taken it back once Satoru tackled him into a hug with a joyful squeal of “Nanamiiiin~!”

“C’mon now. I’ve got our bags saddled on Gege. We’ll leave immediately.” Satoru voices, snapping you out of your reminiscing. Rushing to give Nanami a farewell hug, your heart lurches as he whispers “Goodbye. Promise you’ll write.”

This was really happening.

Nodding in promise, you finally turn to the open door and step into the dusty sunlight. Satoru leads you to where Gege is impatiently waiting for your quick getaway. You could almost laugh at the sheer exhilaration coursing through your veins.

You were going to get out.

You grip onto Satoru’s shoulder for support as he circles his arms around you to lift you onto the seat, slightly shaking at the intoxicating adrenaline.

You were finally going to be free.

“Leavin’ so soon, sweetcheeks?” a chilling voice slices through the air. One that you know way too well. Your heart stops, as does Satoru’s hands in midair - before he sets you down slowly.

Body moving against your will, you turn to the deceivingly sweet voice behind you. Naoya.

A cold sweat breaks out across Satoru’s forehead.

He stares down Naoya’s hand hovering over the holster at his hip. “I knew there was something off about you, barn boy. You think I’d be outmatched by someone like you?” he hisses, resentment poisoning every word.

Satoru does what he does arguably the best, “Oh c’mon asshat, don’t be so melodramatic. We’re just going on a little adventure.” he smirks.

“Don’t I know of these adventures.” Naoya spits out.

Agonizingly slow, Naoya draws his gun. You could cut the tension in the air with a knife as the three of you stand frozen, searing sun casting eerie shadows across the desolate road.

BANG!

Naoya’s first shot tears through the deafening silence. Narrowly missing the bullet, Gege whinnies in fear before running off to safety. Satoru skillfully maneuvers you two into the shadowy alleyway beside Ol’ Rustcliffe Saloon.

In the blink of an eye, he presses you close to the dust-bitten wall as he pulls out his gun. “Stay here.” he gasps out.

With lightning speed, Satoru retaliates - firing back-to-back shots at Naoya with a speed and precision that has him scrambling for cover behind a barrel.

The gunfire echoes throughout the quiet town, these familiar streets becoming a battleground. Despite both parties shooting from their impromptu covers, neither are invincible.

A stray bullet harshly grazes his arm, blood painting the ground a deep crimson. Fuck, this really burned like a motherfucker. But he was still alive - he still had to protect you.

The standoff intensifies, stray bullets flying off in every direction. They splinter holes through the rustic shop banners. You could only be thankful that the town was at the rally, confident you’d never forgive yourself if anyone died on this road today.

Satoru fires off shots with uncanny accuracy, years of defending himself on the road coming in handy. Yet, he was losing blood. So much blood. He realizes with a jolt that his vision was slowly blurring.

Breaths labored and slumping forward against the wall, he aims one last shot at Naoya. Fuck. Shit. Dear lord, if you’re up there, please don’t let my love die here.

A finger pulls the trigger. The bullet flies through the air as if in slow-motion.

It hits metal.

Naoya’s gun flies through the air, clattering onto the sun-scorched ground as he is finally disarmed. The beginnings of a grin curl Satoru’s lips before he heaves out a heavy sigh. Eyes closing and body collapsing forward, the last thing ringing in his ears being your harrowed scream.

“No no no no. Satoru please.” sobs wreck your throat as your hands frantically check for Satoru’s pulse. In your panicked state of mind, you barely register the crunch of gravel nearing towards you two.

“Shit. The fuck is it that you even want?” that dreaded voice sounds ominously in your ears. “To travel? I can fuckin’ take you places.”

Sagging on the saloon wall for support, Naoya clutches his bleeding side as he observes the two of you. In an instant, you’re in front of Satoru’s body protectively, hand steady on his discarded gun pointed right at Naoya’s head.

“Leave, before I shoot your brains out..” you threaten, voice deceptively steady.

“I thought I could be the one to break you - the mayor’s wildchild daughter. But why the fuck do you put yourself through this?” he continues, voice strained with anger.

“Because he is the one I want. I refuse your proposal, and I am not sorry for it. Now leave.”

You were standing up now, the cool metal of the barrel pressed firmly to his forehead. Finger hovering above the trigger.

“I believe the lady said to leave.” Nanami’s voice startles you both. His normally stoic face was etched with anger.

Despite his injuries, Naoya manages to glare at Nanami. But, realizing the odds are against him, he backs away, but not before venomously promising “This ain’t over, sweetcheeks.”

He leaves a bloody trail as he limps out of sight.

“Told you this wasn’t good for business.” Nanami sighs at the chaos. With Nanami’s help, you carry Satoru inside - body moving on instinct as your mind races to process everything that happened.

The empty bar now serves as an improvised hospital. Laying Satoru down on a table that acts as a makeshift bed, propping his feet up in a desperate attempt to recirculate his blood. You desperately tear the intricate of your engagement dress into bandages, hurriedly wrapping it around his injured arm.

The atmosphere is taut, air once thick with the stench of alcohol now reeking of blood and the dusty antiseptic Nanami had brought to you from the very back of his shelves. The methodic ticking of the bar clock sounds like gunshots to your ears.

His reassuring presence is probably what keeps you sane as you stare unmovingly at your hands, stained a dark red from the blood seeping through Satoru’s clothes.

You must have been sitting there for hours. Maybe even days. Or it might have even been just a few minutes.

All you know is a flash of blue, and you’re surging forward, heart racing. “Satoru?! Satoru! Please say something.” you cry out, tears streaming down your face once more. Nanami quietly makes his exit to the back, leaving the two lovers to their privacy.

“Satoru.” you breathe out, relief flooding your body and a smile forcing its way onto your face as Satoru’s half-lidded eyes meet your worried ones.

“M’lady.” he whispers weakly. His uninjured arm shakily cups your cheek, and you lean into his warm touch. “I would never have forgiven myself if I left you alone, m’lady.” he rasps, eyes boring into yours. “Couldn’t have fought off the tumbleweeds yourself.”

You let out a watery laugh. There he is, the man you love.

“I love you, Satoru.” you speak in a hushed tone, as if anything louder will throw you back into your nightmare. His smile grows, blue summer eyes flooding with silent tears.

“I love you, too. So, so much. Wherever you go s’ where I belong, my love.” he utters words meant for you - and only you.

Your heart swells at the indescribable emotion on his face. “Then, rest well. We have to make our getaway in a blaze of glory, remember?”

It wasn’t a blaze of glory, more like a teary trail of apologies and thanks as you embrace Nanami farewell - for the second time today. He hugs Satoru too, but only begrudgingly after he bemoans about being on the brink of death any second now.

You step outside once more, hands shaky at what awaits you.

In the distance, you hear a frantic call of your name. You turn, only to have your parents barreling emotionally into you.

Word seems to have spread around town about what had happened, and your parents were first to come to you - your father running off midspeech.

Through your hurried stream of tears and recollections of what happened, you managed to bawl out “I-I’m so-”

Words which are quickly hushed by your equally emotional parents. “Please don’ apologize.” your mother soothes.

“If anything, I should. I’m so sorry for tryin’ to coop you up here, my dear. I was a scared, insolent man. S’hard to not see you as my little girl, I hope you can forgive me, my darling.” your father sighs shakily. He looks a lot older than you remember him.

Grabbing both your parents into a tight embrace, you whisper out the words “I love you, and I promise to write.”

With a final hug goodbye from your parents - to both you and Satoru, you take a seat in front of him on the now-calm Gege.

“Ready m’lady?” you send a teasing glance at Satoru, who positively swoons overdramatically.

“Oh yes, Mr. Brave n’ Handsome cowboy.” he responds in a theatrically high falsetto. “Travelin’ the world won’t be all sunshines and rainbows, y’know? If you want a way out now then jus’ say the word.” he warns in his normal voice.

“Trynna get rid of me already, cowboy?” you raise a brow playfully. He wraps his arms securely around your waist. “Just sayin’, wouldn’t want you to regret a single thing.” he murmurs softly.

“I won’t. As long as we win against those tumbleweeds, right?”

Huffing out a laugh, “Can’t promise ya that, my love. You’ll jus’ have to take a chance on me.”

The snap of reins. A last look at your waving parents, and your little town of Rustcliffe. You ride into the horizon with your white dress billowing behind you - on what you and Satoru would later consider blazing glory.

---

“Didya hear about the mayor’s daughter? Last I heard, she was kidnapped by a rogue cowboy a couple years back, snatched her straight off her feet on her wedding day!”

“Hogwash! I heard she went quite willingly - the boy was quite a looker, you see. Stabbed her fiancé in his sleep before riding off into the sunset!”

Nanami stifles a laugh at the scandalized gasps echoing around the table as the old drunkards run the gossip mill.

In a subtle motion, he discreetly tucks away a photograph, its back adorned with enthusiastic handwriting and a…hoofprint?

Taj Mahal sprawling in the backdrop, two identical heads of white hair grin mischievously in the photo.

Yet, yours takes center stage.

A/N. Did this in two days, anything is possible kids (I need to lie down). Reblogs are so so so appreciated.

Plagiarism not authorized.

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jaylaxies · 20 days

Text

NOW OR NEVER

PAIRING: spider-man!sunghoon x fem!reader

GENRE/CW: smut, unprotected sex, choking, fingering, slight bondage, usage of nicknames, breeding.

SYNOPSIS: going around the city with your massive poster which said, ‘Choke me, Spider-Man!’ was something you did for fun, not knowing that your dream might actually come true.

WC: 1.4k words

WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni

A/N: hihi, loves! this one was requested by my anonnie and i’ve also posted this as a mark fic before! i hope you guys will like it :3 all likes, comments, reblogs and feedbacks are highly appreciated! iloveyou all <33

“Shh, baby. Don’t want your parents to hear now, do we?”

You truly couldn’t believe that it was happening—that Spider-Man was in your room with his slender fingers wrapped ever so perfect around your throat.

You’ve always wanted this from the day you first saw him, on the day he saved a lift full of people from falling down and crashing to the ground. You were one of those who unfortunately got stuck inside the lift too, which was the traumatic onset of your tiny crush on him.

No one knew who was behind that mask, yet his suit clad figure was a sight to see, his build lean and slightly muscular, not to mention he smelled brilliant (a little something you gathered when he saved you).

To add to it, his ever so attractive voice always grasped everyone’s attention, you thought he was funny too, which is exactly why you ended up making a poster full of glitter saying:

Choke me, Spider-Man!

It was a silly joke, albeit you’d definitely be lying if you say you didn’t get wet dreams about the superhero, because you did. Detailed ones at that.

Maybe carrying the poster with you at all times was a stretch but you did it anyway, granted that your city was full of crimes and spotting Spider-Man was an easy task, which is why you proudly held up the poster in the crowd whenever you saw him, after he fought with the villain that is.

The people around you laughed, but it wasn’t mocking, it was more of an amused laugh, and you could have sworn you noticed spidey look your way, before swinging away, much to your dismay.

This went on a few times. You were practically waving the poster frantically when it was the fourth time, yet he didn’t pay you attention of any sort, leaving you dejected as you dragged yourself back home from Uni, chuckling at your state.

Crush on a superhero?

Pathetic.

He’s loved by countless people all over the world, what makes you think he’d have time to give you even a sliver of his attention when he’s so busy saving the world?

Clicking your tongue, you threw the crumbled poster in the trash can of your bedroom, dimming the lights as you sat down on your bed, ready to change into your nightwear before opting to sleep to take your mind off things.

Just then, a loud sound of knocking on your window caught your attention, which was funny considering you lived up on a pretty high floor in your apartment building. You thought that it must be a bird, still, you decided to open the curtains to check it out.

Shock would be an understatement to explain what you were feeling the second your eyes laid on the person right outside your window.

The reason for your sour mood, or rather, the reason you spent hours trying to ease the pent up frustration in you each night, moaning out with need, was hanging by your window.

“Oh god,” you breathed out, brain short circuiting for a few seconds before you shook your head, opening the windows for him to come in.

Who knew Spider-Man would actually care enough to notice you?

Then you realized just how awkward the situation was, and you didn’t have much to say anymore now that he was standing right in front of you, looking around as if he was inspecting your room.

“Spider man,” you breathed out, and he chuckled.

His attention was on you now, walking closer to you, “so, you’re the one who wanted to be choked by me,” he said smoothly, and you couldn’t help but shamelessly gawk at his figure, mouth watering at the sight.

“Uhm—I mean, holy fuck you’re actually here,” you tried to voice out your thoughts, but they were a mess, which only caused him to chuckle at your shocked state.

“Didn’t you want me here, baby?” He asked and you felt your knees buckling at the deep tone of his voice.

You took another step back, only to lose balance and trip. But good for you, your spidey was quick to shoot his web on your silky night blouse, pulling you close and right into his arms.

He smelled so good.

“Careful. We don’t want you hurting your pretty face,” he whispered, tracing his glove clad finger along your jaw, gripping your chin when he noticed how your body had gone still, “deep breaths, babe.”

“Are you gonna fuck me?” You asked, voice coming out in a low whine, eyes twinkling with hope.

He chuckled, pulling his mask up which had you bubbling with anticipation, you really wanted to see what he looked like. However, he stopped a little too soon for your liking, only exposing his lips, leaning in to mumble against your own.

“I’m gonna fuck the life out of you,” he whispers, a gasp leaving your lips as you pulled him closer into a rushed kiss.

He was quick to take over, kissing you harder as he pushed you down on your bed, you could feel his fang like canines biting down on your bottom lip, “undress, quick,” he ordered, and you fumbled while getting everything off your body.

Your cheeks were warm, your eyes on his figure, which was now devoid of his costume, faint abs and strong muscles on display for you, but your mouth practically salivated at the sight of his cock, thick and hard.

Just when you sat up to touch him, he grabbed your wrist, pushing them up your head and shooting webs to tie them, making sure they didn’t move.

You never knew you’d be into web-play but here you are, getting wet by being constrained by webs.

“Please,” you begged in hopes that he’d touch you, or do something, anything.

“So needy, aren’t you?” He clicks his tongue, his fingers caressing your cunt, collecting your wetness, “so wet already,” he smirked, “wanna be fucked all night, huh?” He asked, continuing working his fingers between your legs, arousal leaking from your cunt.

His other hand was wrapped up around your neck, fingers tightening enough for you to gasp, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you felt lightheaded with the whole situation, but you couldn’t have asked for anything better.

He was so good with his fingers, thumb pads circling your clit while two digits plunged in and out of you, eliciting moans out of you.

“Shh,” he whispered, his hold around your neck tightening which caused you to open your mouth, giving him the perfect opportunity to lean in and spit in your mouth, watching the glob travel down your tongue till you gulped it down, earning a praise out of him, “good girl.”

He pulled back right when your body started shaking with the orgasm building up in your lower abdomen, his hold on your neck loose to let you breathe some more before he took it to the next level.

He ran his lips down your neck, sucking harshly as he lined his cock to your eager folds, your expression blissful and your entrance so wet, it made it easy for him to bottom out, “so fucking pretty,” he groaned out.

His voice strained as he started fucking you into your mattress, his power was evident with how precise and hard his thrusts were. It was a lifetime opportunity for you, and you wished to savour every second of it as you wrapped your legs around his slender waist, pulling him even closer and deeper in your pussy.

He hit your spot over and over again, “cream my cock like a good girl, baby,” he rasped out, his own orgasm approaching.

You couldn’t hold back anymore, with his fingers still gripping your neck, the lack of air was evident but it somehow made you feel as if you were floating with unadulterated bliss around you as you finally reached your state of euphoria, coming undone on his cock, exactly when he filled you up with his cum, mixing it with yours as he emptied himself in you.

You whined when he pulled back, getting dressed after draining you, “you’re leaving?” You asked, frowning.

“Gotta save the world now, pretty,” he whispered, removing his webs from your wrists before pecking your lips and rushing out of the window, leaving you dazed.

Maybe making the poster wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

THANK YOU FOR READING!

@jaeminvore @macaroonff @ajayke-reads @lunalovesstories @jayzdaze @deobitifull @celeste-hoon @mari-oclock @kpoprhia @ikeuizm @woniebae @lalalalawon @blessedcursd @skzenhalove @heesuncore @seuomo @kyurizeu @haechan-nahceah @tobiosbbyghorl @jezzebear @jaehoonii @itsgivingitalian @bunhoons @luvswonyoung @ma-riiii @addictedtohobi @heeliopheelia @haanigurl

permanent taglist open! comment or send an ask to be added!

#enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #sunghoon smut #kpop smut #enha smut #enhypen imagines

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too-deviant · 2 months

Text

freaky friday

OR… that one time you woke up in luke castellan’s body, told from the perspective of percy jackson.

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Fem!Demeter!Reader

Word Count: 4.2k

Content: the most loser loser!luke has ever loser-ed. this is sooo unserious like pls.

꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷

Percy Jackson had only been at camp for a day, but he was completely sure that something was wrong.

It started early Sunday morning — well, when he thought back on it, he guessed it might have started late Saturday night, when he woke up to a few of the older campers (Luke included) sneaking off out of the cabin and not coming back until the sun was peeking through the horizon.

But he didn’t really think about it until Sunday morning — when the thing that startled him out of sleep was a loud shout of “Holy Fuck!” echoing from the bathroom. He sat up, startled, and eyed the door along with everyone else. Then there was a yelp.

“Oh my gods. No — this is, this isn’t real. Am I still — oh don’t touch that. That’s not yours. Jesus, Luke — No. Stop looking. Oh my gods.”

A few campers shared some wary glances, asking the silent question of who’s going to investigate? Eventually, Chris (Percy thought, one of Luke’s friends from yesterday), stood up with a sigh and a raised brow, stepping over sleeping bags until he stood outside of the door. He looked at them all, the curious eyes of literally every kid there, and knocked slightly. There was another yelp.

“Uh…” Chris blew out a puff of air, “Are you okay in there?”

A few seconds of tense silence, then the door cracked open and Luke Castellan stuck his head out. He looked at Chris, at all the kids staring at him, and smiled stiffly, “I’m good. Don’t worry about me.”

He shut the door once more, the force blowing Chris’ hair back for a brief moment. The boy shrugged and nodded at everyone else to start getting ready because it was almost time for breakfast. He headed over to Percy, asked how his first night was, and left him to gather his bearings before they had to leave.

The kids attempted to forget about Luke’s debacle in the bathroom, but when they started to get impatient about his hogging it, all disregard of his personal business went flying out of the window. One kid mustered the balls to knock, and then another shouted through the wood for him to hurry up.

Just as one of the Stoll brothers was about to pick the lock himself and check out the situation, the door flew open, and Luke frowned at them from the doorway, “I’m done, my gods.”

They looked at him — he was leaning against the now open door, hip bucked out and not a care in the world that he was in nothing but his underwear. He glanced at them, then at the kid who Percy thought was called Conor, and sneered in his face until the kid flinched back. When he did, Luke pushed the bathroom door until it hit the wall and gestured dramatically inside, “In you go.”

Percy didn’t think he was the only one who was shocked by Luke’s sudden show of attitude. Sure, he’d only known the guy for a day, but he’d been super nice the whole time. Even when Percy was ready to give up on finding his skill, Luke was supportive and kind. Now, he just looked irritated at everyone in the room. Maybe he wasn’t a morning person.

Yeah, that was probably it.

Percy decided to let him wake up a bit instead of irritating him with questions about how the morning routine at camp usually went. Instead, he followed the lead of the kids around him and got himself ready before lining up along the wall. His face bloomed red when someone had to tell him to go to the back because he was new, but other than that he was doing somewhat alright.

Chris and Luke were arguing quietly in the corner, being careful to ensure nobody else could hear their murmurs. At one point, Luke stepped up so he was nose to nose with Chris and the boy put his hands on his chest to push him back — only for Luke to sharpen his eyes down at them with such a scandalised look that even Percy was slightly confused from where he stood and watched. Luke folded his arms over his chest indignantly and Chris sent him a dumb look before muttering something that made Luke straighten and drop his arms once more.

When the boys ceased their conversation and walked over, the kids pretended as if they hadn’t been watching their entire time

“Okayyy.” Luke spoke, huffing out a breath. He shot his hands out and waved them, “Let’s go.” Nobody moved, and he furrowed his brows, “Uh, onwards and upwards? Hop to? En guarde?” Silence greeted him and he rolled his eyes, clapping loudly, “Can yall just fuckin’ move?”

The kids at the front flinched slightly, deciding it best to just leave rather than wait for him to say his usual morning pick-me-up. Clearly he was having a bad day and they chose to leave him to his own devices. Percy followed at the back, and couldn’t help but listen as Chris muttered to him once more from behind him.

“Can you at least try to act like a normal person, please?”

“I am acting normal.”

“Luke Normal.” He paused, waiting. Percy guessed Luke must’ve agreed silently because the next thing he said was, “Thank you. Now get to the front of the line like the cabin counsellor you are.”

Luke huffed, pushing past Percy to get to the front of the line. Chris followed, whispering something about Luke having a bad day and to just ignore him before jogging to catch up. The blonde boy had never felt so awkward — the only friend he’d made and the guy was skulking around like he hated the world only twelve hours after they’d met.

He tried to brush it off by focusing on his breakfast — blue pancakes, blue cherry coke. Okay, not the healthiest option but he was having a bad weekend, let him live.

Chiron came to find him a bit after that, asking Percy how he was settling in and if he was ready for the Capture the Flag game they were playing later.

After that, Percy tried to avoid the prying eyes of Annabeth by spending his free hour in the Hermes cabin where she couldn’t get to him — only to walk in on something a lot more awkward.

Luke was lying on the floor, groaning in pain. The smiley Demeter girl he had introduced Percy to the day before was on top of him, also groaning in pain.

“Uh, are you guys okay?”

They flinched, scrambling off each other and pulling themselves to their feet. Luke brushed himself off and looked at Percy wide eyed, “It’s not what it looks like!”

“Seriously.” The girl said when Percy raised his brow. She shook her head slowly, “We would never —“

“Yeah.” Luke scoffed, “Like never ever.”

The girl — Percy was still trying to remember her name — turned her head and looked at him blankly, “Okay. That wasn’t needed.”

“I’m just clarifying.”

“You didn’t need to sound so disgusted about it, though.”

“Oh my god.” Luke scoffed a chuckle, shaking his head, “You’re such a guy.”

Percy screwed up his face, and Luke suddenly backtracked, “Uh, I mean — such a lie…er.” Even he looked confused by what he’d said. He straightened up and scoffed, waving his hands, “She wants me so bad. Right? Bro?” He held out a fist, but Percy just looked at it.

The girl, who had swiftly knocked his hand back to his side and stepped slightly in front of him, smiled kindly like she had yesterday when she’d asked how Percy was feeling about the sudden change in his life. “Sorry for scaring you, Perce. We’re just talking about something. Did you have a question?”

“Yeah, actually.” He looked at her, “Are you in pyjamas?”

She looked down at herself like she was just remembering her white tank top and fleece pyjama pants with bats printed on them, and Luke laughed into his fist. Upon hearing his chuckles, she swivelled back to glare at him, “Hey, don’t laugh at me! Would you rather me undress you?”

“What?” Percy asked. He was ignored.

Luke took a step back and held up one finger, “Uh, no. I don’t need you looking at my tits, perv.”

“What?” Percy tried again.

The girl scoffed, looking away from him and muttering under her breath, “Kinda hard not to when they get hot in the night and climb out of your shirt.”

Luke gasped and put his hands to his chest, “Oh my gods.”

“I tried not to look but they were right there — !”

"Well — " Luke stammered for a rebuttal, eventually pointing in accusation at the girl beside him, "You had morning wood!

"What — ?!"

“Hey, guys!” Percy finally interrupted, and they looked at him in surprise like they’d forgotten he’d been standing there the whole time. “What the hell is going on?”

The two shared a look, but it was you who stepped forward and looked at him kindly, “Nothing you should worry about. You’ve had a tough weekend already, just pretend you never saw us.”

Percy was tempted to refuse and force them to spill the beans, but they were two older campers who could very well send him to detention or whatever it was they did here for punishment — he wasn’t keen on finding out. So he left with a nod and closed the door behind him.

Your voice drifted through the window, “—can’t believe you wear batman pyjamas.”

“At least I wear pyjamas.” Luke responded, “You left very little to my imagination this morning.”

He walked off before he could hear anymore.

He didn’t see either of you again until just before lunch. He was walking through camp with Grover, half-listening to his friend yap about a blueberry bush he thought was cute, when they passed you and your sisters giggling about something near the forges.

“Gods, he’s cute, though.” One of them was saying, eyeing up a boy with soot all over his face. Percy couldn’t see much of him to determine him as cute, but your sisters seemed to agree with a loud dreamy sigh.

“He is, don’t get me wrong.” Another girl added, “But consider this: Lee Fletcher.”

“Oh, yeah.”

“He’s got potential. He’s got potential.”

Percy found himself slowing down, the teenage boy in him wondering if someone would mention his name. Of course they wouldn’t — he’s twelve, and they’re all around yours and Luke’s age, but a boy could dream.

One of the girls clicked her tongue, looking at you, “Who was it you said was sorta dreamy the other day?”

Percy watched you freeze, suddenly looking very awkward. You took a deep breath in and pretended to think about what you were going to say, but one of your sisters chimed in for you.

“It was Astor. The Ares kid with the curly hair.”

“Oh yeah!”

“What?” You exclaimed, scrunching up your face. When your sisters looked at you all confused, you backtracked, “Uh, I mean yeah he’s…cute.” You forced the word out with difficulty, “But, I dunno. There's cuter guys out there.”

“Oh?” Your sister said, interested, “Who are you thinking?”

Now you were on the spot. You swallowed, making these exaggerated facial expressions that Percy assumed were you trying to convince the girls that you had just come up with this idea, when you’d actually probably been wanting to say it the whole time you’d been talking and just needed an excuse, “Oh, I don’t know…” You shrugged, “Luke Castellan’s sorta…y’know?”

The girls looked between each other, and you watched with slight anticipation. Then one of them, the one who had mentioned Lee Fletcher earlier, said, “I swear you said he was too full of himself.”

“What —?”

“Yeah, she did.” The other chimed in, “You said he would be cuter if he didn’t — what was it? — flaunt around camp like he had the biggest cock out of all of ‘em.”

The girls laughed, and you attempted a weak chuckle, but it sorta looked like you were in pain. Percy thought it best to walk off after that, looking for Grover who had long since left him to his eavesdropping devices and presumably wandered off into the forest to look for Blue the blueberry bush.

So maybe Percy should’ve pressed harder when he’d cornered you and Luke earlier that morning. He thought he could brush it off, even when he kept seeing Luke lift up the hem of his shirt and poke at his abs in wonder, or when he saw you pushing your hair out of your face once every ten seconds before finally putting it in the messiest ponytail he’d ever seen. It was as if you had lost all sense of self overnight, like you'd never actually seen your own bodies before. It creeped him out, but he held back on asking. Maybe it was a demigod thing he hadn't been taught yet.

The straw that broke the camel's back, however, was after dinner. Usually when the nymphs take the plates away and the campers start to trickle down to the campfire, a few odd groups would stay behind at their tables, gossiping or finishing their desert until they had to get up and go — not only were you and your siblings part of this group of people, but so were Luke and Chris (and, by default because he had nobody else to hang out with, Percy).

So the newcomer had the fortunate opportunity to bear witness to possibly the greatest series of events he’d ever seen (and he once saw a rat the size of a small dog eating a small dog).

It all started when a girl from the Aphrodite table stood up and walked over to where the boys were sitting.

“So, if you do ever want to sneak out to the forests, don’t go through the pavilion.” Chris was explaining, “Mr D has a birds eye view of the whole place from his bedroom window, so you gotta sneak as close to the Big House as you can get. But make sure to duck under the windows just in case Chiron is trotting around in there.”

“And be careful around cabin four.” Luke butted in, “They have vines that spring out of the floor whenever a non-Demeter kid gets too close during the night.”

Chris turned to his brother with a look, “How do you know that?”

“Oh, uh — ”

“Hey, Luke.”

Three heads turned to the edge of the table where she was standing — a pretty girl with short blonde hair, a few strands dyed pink near the front. She was smiling at Luke cheekily and Percy noticed Chris send his brother a smirk.

“Uh, hi…” Luke trailed off, squinting.

“Laura.” She finished with a frown.

“Laura!” He exclaimed, snapping his fingers. “I knew that. I did.”

“Cool.” She said slowly, brushing off the moment and bouncing around the table to sit next to him on the bench. She leaned on her elbows into his side and Percy watched him shuffle back, only for Chris to push him right back forward. “So, uh, I had fun…last night.” She side eyed Percy across the table, but the boy just pursed his lips awkwardly.

“Really?” Luke responded, a little shocked. He nodded, “Well, uh, me too?”

Laura grinned widely at that, back straightening, “I’m so glad we agree.”

Percy wasn’t so sure Luke agreed, he wasn’t even sure the guy remembered whatever saucy interaction she was referring to. But he was pretending to, for her sake. He blinked at her silently, but she just looked as if she was waiting for him to say something — Percy was only young, but he’d seen enough movies to know that she was waiting for him to suggest they do it again sometime.

He did not. Instead he twisted his body away from her and back towards Percy, smiling at him, “Wanna head to the campfire, get some good seats?”

The boy was moments away from responding, but Laura clearly wasn’t taking his silence as an answer. She pulled Luke back to face her by his arm and blinked up at him, “I was just about to suggest we skip the fire tonight. Just us, y’know?”

Chris cleared his throat and stood, ushering for Percy to do the same, “Let’s go, lil bro.”

“Wait — “ Luke stood with them, staring back with a silent plea of help. Chris wasn’t having it, just grinning at him.

“Have fun, Luke.” He snorted, “See you later.”

“No, you can’t — ” He started, but Laura was yanking him back with a high pitched giggle.

“You heard him, Luke.” She smirked, “No one's gonna notice we’re gone, loosen up.” She ran a slow finger down his torso, and Percy watched him visibly tense up. He didn’t understand why she hadn't taken the hint already.

Chris seized Percy by the wrist and began to pull him away, occasionally looking back and giggling like a schoolgirl, with the odd snort. The younger boy didn’t really want to look back, but then when he heard Luke yelp like a girl, well…

He had to. And thank the gods he did.

Luke was sprawled on the table like a scared rabbit and Laura was standing with one hand hanging limply in the air, looking confusedly at his stance. Chris burst into loud laughter when he noticed Luke’s legs were spread and the boy was trying really hard not to look at his own crotch.

They walked over when it was clear someone needed to intervene, and Percy noticed the Demeter girls from before joining them — you were at the front, looking panicked and slightly annoyed.

"What's going on?" You asked, looking between the two of them.

"Nothing." Laura said plainly, "We were just talking."

Luke looked at you, “She — uh, she grabbed your — uh, your — ”

He gestured between his legs with a shaky hand. Percy raised a brow, as did everyone else at the scene. Except for Laura, who began to cackle loudly, bending over at the hips and bracing her hands on her thighs. The rest of the kids stared at the pair with varying expressions, and Laura straightened up, wiping under eyes with a giggle before pointing between you and Luke.

“You guys — oh my gods — ” She laughed again, shaking her head and trying to breathe long enough to get her words out, “Holy Hades, Castellan. I’m — I’m sorry.”

She held her hands up in surrender, looking at you now, “I am. I didn’t know you guys were dating. I guess I took mine and Luke’s conversation the wrong way, but — ” Another wheeze, “And I shouldn’t be laughing, but he just referred to his penis as yours, and I — ”

“Laura, it’s not like — ” You stepped up with a wince, trying to alleviate the growing tension between the group. The Aphrodite girl wasn’t listening.

“I just think that’s the funniest thing I’ve heard since…” She took a moment to think, catching her breath and smiling at herself as she thought about it. Eventually, she gestured to you with a laugh, “Well, since last night when you called Graham Lee an extra-terrestrial ass-kisser.”

Luke licked his lips, taking a deep breath in and pushing himself off the table and to his feet. He went to say something to Laura, face serious, but then he stopped and knocked his head back in a slight movement. He looked around at nothing, as if he was recollecting a memory, and then he gasped and pointed a finger at you, “I did do that.”

“You called Graham Lee an extra-terrestrial ass-kisser?” You tilted your head at Luke, “Why?”

Luke shrugged, “He grabbed my ass.”

Laura scrunched up her face, looking between the pair of them, “Are you guys on drugs?”

"There aren't any drugs at this camp." You blanked. You brother laughed.

"Says the drug dealer."

You raised a brow in shock, like you'd had no idea about your own small business. You looked at Luke intensely -- Percy thought maybe you were trying to keep your drug dealing thing a secret, and Luke had gone and spilled the beans. That would explain why he suddenly looked so sheepish. It wouldn't explain why you then said, "Well I am not on drugs."

"Then what is wrong with you guys?" Someone finally asked the question Percy had been sitting on since he watched you hover your hands over your own boobs before retracting them quickly as if it was against some demigod rule to touch your own body — only for Luke to see from afar and have some very stern words to say about it.

Finally, after ten seconds of intense eye contact, you and Luke took in simultaneous breaths. It was you who spoke first, addressing the whole crowd — which consisted of Percy, Laura, Chris, and the Demeter kids — “We’re in eachother’s bodies.”

The Demeter kids made grossed out faces, but Chris just snorted into his fist and let the conversation go on. Percy had never been more confused in his entire life — and he had once thought his dad was Jesus.

Laura chuckled, “Yeah, we know that. His penis is yours, or whatever freaky shit yall are up to.”

“What?”

“No — ”

You and Luke spoke at once, each taking a single step forward. You paused, looking at each-other until you gestured at Luke with a sigh, letting him speak. He nodded, “We’re serious. We are in each other's bodies.”

“Freaky Friday style.” You jumped in before anyone could make a sex joke. You sent the group a sharp look, and then zeroed your eyes in on Percy, “That’s why we were acting so out of it earlier.”

It was silent for a long stretch — everyone looking between one another. Percy didn’t even know what to say. It did explain their strange behaviour, but —

“How the hell did you end up in each other’s bodies?” A demeter boy asked, holding a finger up like he was in class. The rest of them nodded, wondering the same.

“Well…” Luke sighed (or You sighed, he guessed. He was still confused), “At first we had no idea, but now I think it was Graham Lee.”

Another Demeter girl hummed, “He is a Hecate kid. It’d make sense that he put some freaky spell on you after you insulted him.”

Chris coughed, still red in the face from laughing into his shirt, “Okay, but why Luke?”

You shrugged, “Dunno. I’ve never done anything to the guy.”

Suddenly, Laura let out a long, “Oooohhhh.”

Everyone eyed her. She pursed her lips in embarrassment, although Percy definitely saw amusement in her eyes. She tucked some hair behind her ear and winced, “So, maybe we went to the clash together.”

“The what?” Percy asked, finally speaking up. The rest of the group looked at him as if only just realising he’d been standing there, suddenly looking sheepish.

“Uh, it’s a party.” Chris scratched behind his ear, “Older campers only, but if you don’t tell anyone about ‘em you can come to the next one.”

He shrugged, “Deal.”

“So, wait.” You pointed at Laura, “You went to the clash with Graham? Like with him?”

“Yeah.” She folded her arms indignantly, “But he was literally staring at you the whole time, so I left to flirt with Luke.”

Your cheeks dusted pink, and both Laura and Percy realised she was talking to Luke, not you. She turned to Luke, clearing her throat, “Sorry. He was staring at you the whole time. So I left to flirt with…uh, Luke.”

A collective breath ran through the group, everyone putting the pieces together in their own heads. Percy was still a little unsure, but he had the gist (maybe). Just as he was about to suggest they go find this Graham guy and ask him to undo his spell, one of the Demeter girls Percy had seen talking to you earlier gasped and looked between you and Luke with wide eyes.

“So when we were talking before…” She looked at you, “We were talking to Luke?”

You — or Luke, but as you — stammered, and Percy couldn’t help but let out a little laugh. Luke looked on, confused, and the girl looked at him with a smirk,

“Earlier, we were gossiping about hot guys.” She chuckled, pointing at you, “And Luke suggested his own name, as you!”

“What?” Luke exclaimed at you, partially appalled but also holding in a laugh.

You stammered for an excuse, but then her face contorted and she zeroed Luke with an accusatory stare, “Well, you said I walked around camp acting like I had the biggest cock out of them all!”

Luke scoffed, “You do.”

“I do not!”

“You kind do.”

“Yeah, you do.”

“You sorta do, man.”

You turned to Chris, scandalised, “Bro.”

The boy shrugged, “Sorry man. It’s true.”

Eventually, you managed to convince the kids to finally go to the campfire and leave Luke and yourself to fix your problem with Graham when you got down there. They agreed, although not without making as many jokes as they could on the walk down to the clearing.

“So, how did you guys pee?”

“Have you seen each other all naked and stuff now?”

“Did Luke have morning woo — ?”

“Alright.” You smacked Chris hard on the back for that one. “To your sections, please.”

Percy sat down on the end of a log, and watched as the two of you walked over to Graham and spoke to him in hushed but harsh tones. At one point, Graham was looking between you two with the most genuine look of confusion and Percy assumed he only agreed to reverse the spell because it was making his mind go all wobbly just talking to you.

When he saw Luke again, it was at lights out. Percy was tucking himself into his thin sleeping bag when the boy came over, crouching to his level and dropping something on his lap.

He lifted the bag of coins to his eyeline and then raised a brow at Luke, “What’s this for?”

“Drachmas.” He explained, “Just enough to get you a new shirt at the camp store. Or a thicker pillow, some three ply toilet paper. Whatever you want, really.” He shrugged, “Partly a welcome to camp gift, partly hush money.”

“Right.” Percy lowered the bag and levelled Luke with a curious look, “How was being in another person’s body? Weird?”

“Oh yeah.” He nodded, looking into the distance like he was having some awful flashbacks. Percy remembered seeing you walk out of the bathroom earlier, a look of terror plastered in your eyes.

He cleared his throat, “Well, thanks for the money.”

“No problem, kid.” He patted him on the shoulder, “Get some rest. It’s capture the flag day tomorrow and guess what?"

"What?"

"We're teaming up with Demeter."

#i can’t believe i wrote this #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #pjo #crack fic #loser!luke

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hihomeghere · 2 months

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Fakin' it | Arthur Morgan/Reader

Word Count : 3k Summary : After a botched robbery, Arthur and you take refuge in a hotel, hiding from the O'Driscolls outside your door. When they do decide to search for you two, how will you throw them off your track? Warnings/Tags : Enemies to lovers <3, unprotected piv sex, guns, cursing, reader has female gentailia, fingering, one bed, fake marriage

Of course the job that went bad had to be with Arthur. Why Dutch had put you two together was beyond you. Everyone around the gang knew that it was volatile anytime you two were together. But, you were cunning, quick minded in a pinch. Arthur was strong, easily able to take down a man twice his size, not that someone of that caliber came along often. To put it simply, you were the brains, he was the brawn. As much as you hated to admit, you made a good team on jobs. This time however, a simple robbery had turned into dozens of O’driscolls around every corner. You two had barely made it into a hotel unscathed.

“One room.” Arthur said, setting down some coins on the table top as you watched the door. Your hand resting against your gun in your dress pocket.

“Name?” The man asked with a smile.

“Callahan.” Arthur said looking back at you. “Mr. and Mrs. Callahan.” He said, turning back to the clerk. You heard footsteps outside of the hotel, you turned quickly grabbing Arthur’s arm.

“Sweetheart.” You cooed, internally cringing as you called him by that name. You looked at him with wide eyes, “Come on.” You said with a nervous smile.

“We’re newlyweds, a bit excited if you can’t tell.” He chuckled, turning back to the clerk, his arm wrapping around your waist.

“Of course.” The clerk said with a knowing smile, you wanted to barf as Arthur squeezed your waist. “Up the stairs to the left.” He said, handing Arthur a key.

“Much appreciated.” Arthur said his hand on the small of your back as you two climbed the stairs. As soon as you turned the corner you nearly ran to the door, Arthur slid the key in the lock and turned it, ushering you inside. As soon as the door was closed behind you, he was locking it just as fast.

Once you got in the room you moved away from Arthur’s side, letting out a sigh as you looked around the room. One bed, of course, you two were acting as a couple.

“Mr. and Mrs. Callahan, really?” You asked, raising an eyebrow as you turned to look at Arthur.

“Less eyes on us if we’re a couple, not cause I wanna play house with you.” He said with a grunt, barely raising his head to look at you. He walked over to the bed, moving to take his boots off.

“Less eyes.” You scoffed, looking around the room, walking over to the window. You pulled the blinds back, peeking out to the streets below.

“The hell you think you're doing?” Arthur hissed, his hand wrapping around your wrist.

“Looking.” You said glaring up at him. “Is that a crime?”

“Do you want to give away our position?” He growled, his eyes dark.

“I think it’s pretty damn clear we’re in one of these shops, now we have to wait it out until they’re gone.” You said pulling away your arm from his grasp. He let out a deep breath, his jaw clenched as he looked away from you.

“How many are out there?” He asked, holding his hat as he ran a hand through his hair.

“I don’t know, maybe a dozen?” You said crossing your arms.

“Dutch said to keep a low profile,” He muttered to himself, “We can’t go out there guns blazing.” He said, setting his hat down on the bedside table.

“That’s obvious.” You said, shaking your head. He scoffed, looking up at you.

“Are you trying to piss me off, or is that just one of your special talents?” Arthur said glaring at you.

“Oh I have lots of talents.” You say, stepping closer a scowl on your face.

“If only one of them was keeping your mouth shut.” He growled.

“God, what is your problem?” You huff looking away from him.

“My problem?” He scoffs getting up from the bed. “You’re my problem." He said, his chest almost touching yours as you looked up at him.

“Feelings mutual.” You huff, glaring up at him. He clenched his jaw, shaking his head as you walked away from him.

“We’re gonna have to wait it out.” He said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“The hell are we gonna do?” You asked throwing your hands up.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m gonna take advantage of this bed.” He said laying back down on the bed, placing his hat over his face. You bit your cheek looking at him as he crossed his legs. He did have a point, the bed looked a whole lot softer than your cot back at camp. You mulled it over for a second before sitting down on the edge of the bed. You unlaced your boots, laying back on the bed. Your eyes quickly drew heavy, the adrenaline of the chase finally wearing off.

The sun was setting when you woke up, the light slowly disappearing behind the horizon. The room was quiet except for Arthur’s breathing. You sat up in bed, looking over at him. His hat had fallen off his face when he rolled over sometime during his sleep. He looked so peaceful when he slept, it was like seeing a completely different side of him. It’s at this moment you really appreciate how beautiful Arthur truly is. The bridge of his nose is high, broken one too many times. His plump lips parted slightly, like two petals. His sandy brown hair falling over his forehead.

You wanted to reach out and move it out of his face, but thought better of it. You didn’t want to disturb him and it wasn’t often that you saw him without a furrowed brow.

Just as you were laying back down you heard heavy footsteps up the stairs. By your guess, four, maybe five men. You sit up quietly, feeling your heart pound against your rib cage. Arthur sprang up in bed as soon as they kicked open the first door. They must have turned right when they went up the stairs. The yell of shock sounded farther down the hall. He turned to you, his eyes wide. He reached for his gun belt on the floor but you stopped him. Your brain was running through all the situations. Four or five men, sure you and Arthur could take them, but that’s not exactly a low profile.

Against your better judgment you picked the solution with the least amount of bloodshed. You swung your leg over Arthur’s waist.

“The hell are you doing-“ Arthur hissed before you covered his mouth with your hand. Your fingers started working on the buttons of your blouse as you rolled your hips forward. Arthur looked up at you with a wide eyed expression, his bright eyes frantically moving between his gun belt on the floor and the door. His stubble lightly scratched your palm as you held your hand over his mouth, his plump lips almost kissing your palm.

You forced a high pitched moan as you moved your hips faster on the bed, the bedframe hitting the wall. Creating the illusion you two were having sex.

The gears slowly started to turn in Arthur’s mind, his hands gripping your hips as he propelled you faster. The bedframe was now rocking against the wall, as you pulled your arms out of your blouse, leaving your chest bare. Your nipples hardened from the cold air as goosebumps sprung up on your skin. Arthur’s eyes were closed as he turned his head, forcing a low groan. Although you knew his groans were fake, the way his body reacted to your touch was more than real. You kept up with your moans, trying to put on a good enough show.

The door was soon forced open, as two O’Driscolls entered the room with their guns raised. You scream, Arthur is quick to pull your chest down to his. You were pressed tight against him, his warm hands keeping you flush against him, all of him. His work shirt rubs against your nipples in such a fucking delicious way, it doesn’t help tbe adrenaline coursing through your veins. You can’t see anything, your head buried into Arthur’s neck, his stubble now rubbing against your cheek.

“Get the hell out of here!” Arthur yells, hidden by your upper half.

One of them clears their throat before exiting the room, closing the door behind them. You hold your breath waiting for their footsteps to retreat down the hallway. You let out a sigh of relief as they meet back up with the other men, walking down the stairs.

Hesitantly Arthur moves his hands off your back, you sit up covering your breasts with your arms. Arthur, however, was staring up towards the ceiling. His jaw clenched as he avoided looking at you.

You moved off of his waist, grabbing your blouse before slipping your arms through the sleeves. You buttoned it up, swallowing thickly as Arthur cleared his throat.

“Now uh-“ Arthur said letting out a sigh, “I want you to know that I didn’t see nothin’.” The bed whines slightly as he stands up.

“I know you felt something.” You said, shaking your head as you blush from head to toe.

“Now-“ Arthur sighed, running a hand through his hair as you turned to face him, his eyes flicking around the room before settling at your feet as he held up his hand. “We can just pretend this never happened, it was a matter of life and death.”

“I understand that.” You looked at him, fully looked at him. His gaze was low, his chest rising and falling quickly, his cheeks flushed. God, he looks wrecked.

Your eyes trailed over his body as he stood there, his hand on his hip as he popped his knee out. Your eyes moved down further, almost popping out of your head as you see how painfully hard he is pressed against his pants.

“Are you-“ The words fall out of your mouth before you can think to stop them.

“Jesus.” Arthur sighed looking down, his hand rubbing his eyebrows.

“You are.” A nervous chuckle leaves your mouth as your eyes trailed up and down his body. You felt heat begin to spread between your thighs as he met your eyes. Your heart is still pounding against your rib cage from the encounter with the O’Driscolls.

“I’m-“ He started throwing his hands up, “I’m sorry, alright but you can’t expect me- I’m only a man.” He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed about.”

“Nothing to be ashamed-“ He cut you off, shaking his head, “There is plenty to be ashamed of, I shouldn’t be getting so… so worked up over you.” He said motioning to you. You couldn’t help that you were also getting worked up, you subtly rubbed your thighs together. Trying to get any friction where you needed it most. Heat bloomed in your stomach as the tension in the room only got worse. He furrowed his brows, studying you.

“Wait,” He chuckled, shaking his head, “You feel it too.” He said, crossing his arms.

You scoffed, looking off to the side. “You wish.” You said, hating the slight tremor in your voice. Arthur strode across the room, stopping in front of you. He reached towards you, tilting your chin so you would have to look at him.

“Tell me you don’t want this.” He said softly, his other arm encircling your waist pulling you flush against him. You stayed silent, looking up into his blue eyes. Slowly a smirk worked its way onto his face, “That’s what I thought.” He chuckled, cupping your cheek. He leaned forward brushing his nose against yours. Giving you the option to pull away if you wanted, his eyes softening as he looked into yours. You took the plunge, capturing his lips against your own as you threaded your fingers through his hair.

A groan rumbled through his chest as his hand tightened around your waist. You felt dizzy as his lips moved against yours, his tongue swiping across your bottom lip. You opened your mouth allowing his access as he pressed into you deeper. He rubbed himself against you, his hips pressed against your lower belly.

You pulled away, breathing hard as you looked up at him. His face was flushed, his mouth parted slightly as his chest rose and fell rapidly. You unbuttoned your blouse for the second time, just as feverishly as the first time, but now for a completely different reason. Arthur followed your lead, pushing his own suspenders down, his skillful fingers unbuttoning his own shirt. His eyes returned to your body as he ripped his shirt off of his shoulders, settling onto your breasts. He stared down at you, an almost predatory expression on his face. He closed the distance between you, his hand wrapping around your waist as the other kneaded your breast. You let out a soft gasp, which quickly turned to a moan as he ran his thumb over your perk nipple.

“Arthur.” He stared down at you, his eyes darkening as he watched you shiver against him. He flipped you around, his hand pressing you down onto the bed. His other hand flipped your skirts up, before pulling down your underclothes. He let out a soft groan as his eyes connected with your almost dripping pussy.

“This all for me?” He cooed, swiping his finger through your folds. You gasped, nodding as your hands gripped the quilt.

“Yes.” You breathed, “Yes all for you.”

“Good girl.” You could hear the smirk in his voice as he sunk a finger into your heat. You gasped as he slowly started pumping his finger inside of you. He leaned over you, his lips dangerously close to your ear. “Yeah you like that don’t you?” He said nibbling on your earlobe. Your breath hitched in your throat as he added another finger, scissoring them inside your walls.

“Fuck Arthur.” You melwed, pressing your forehead against the slightly scratchy quilt underneath you. “I need you.” You huffed, your walls clenching around his fingers.

“I’m gettin’ there.” He chuckled, pulling his finger out of you, you sighed at the loss. You could hear the rustling of clothing behind you, the distinctive metal on metal as you pulled off his belt. His warm calloused hands ran up your backside, gently spreading you before the head of his cock met your entrance.

Jesus Christ he was big.

He spit into his palm, pulling away as he spread his spit over the head of his cock.

“What the hell is taking so long?” You asked impatiently, turning your head to look at him. His eyes met yours, a wicked grin on his face as he forcefully shoved his cock through your folds. It was like all the air had been knocked out of your lungs as you were propelled forward onto the bed. His hands pulled your hips back and speared you onto his dick.

“Arthur!” You yelped, your fingers gripping the quilt as he thrust his pelvis flush to yours.

“Christ woman.” He groaned, laying his forehead against your bare back. You moan as he pulls his hips back before thrusting back into you. “You sound even better when you ain’t faking it.” You can feel the chuckle rumble through his chest more than you can hear it as he speaks.

“Arthur, Jesus." You pant, almost drooling over the way his cock hits that spot inside you over and over again.

“Mmm.” He moans, tight lipped as he tilts his head back. You push back against him, meeting every one of his thrusts “Yeah, atta girl.” His praise only spurred you on, your thighs shaking as you pushed your ass against his pelvis. “You close?” He whispered, his warm hand moving down your thigh between your legs. His thumb circling your clit was enough to send you over the edge. You were grateful your upper half was supported by the plush bed as your legs gave out under you. A high pitched moan worked its way out of your chest as you all but collapsed on the bed. Your walls fluttered around him, milking his cock.

“Shit.” He panted his breath fanning on your back as his forearms caged you in, his hips stuttering as he released his seed inside you. He groaned, resting his forehead against your back as he collapsed on you. His sweaty chest sticking against your back. He pulled out of you, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.” He whispered.

“S’okay.” You said breathing hard, his cum seeping down your thighs. He kissed down your spine, his hand lovingly squeezing your hips.

He grabbed a towel from the dresser, cleaning your thighs off.

“Who would have thought you’d known about aftercare.” You chuckle softly, your heart rate slowly coming back to normal.

“There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me sweetheart.” He huffs, a small smirk on his face as he tucked himself back into his pants. He reached down, pulling your bloomers back up over your hips.

“Oh yeah?” You chuckled, grabbing your blouse as he grabbed his shirt off the floor.

“Yeah, Mrs. Callahan.” He smirked walking towards you, buttoning his shirt as he stood in front of you. You rolled your eyes, buttoning your blouse. He wrapped his hand around your waist, pulling you flush against him.

“You can’t tell me you didn’t enjoy it.” He said, his hand trailing down your jaw.

“Alright, fine. Mr. Callahan.” You huffed, a blush covering your cheeks as you rested your hands against his broad chest.

“Next time,” He tightened his grip on your hips, his lips against your ear, “You’re riding me.”

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floatyflowers · 3 months

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Platonic Dark! Prince x Child Reader

𝕿he people saw him as a monster because of the fact that he has pale skin and white hair. He also can't see well due to his purple irises.

But no one dared to call him a 'monster', but instead, he was nicknamed 'the strange'.

Prince Gwyn doesn't like to indulge himself in balls, even though he is the crown prince.

Instead, he likes to stay in his chamber all day, avoiding the eyes of many onlookers.

Gwyn loves to read many books; he finds comfort in learning, especially if they are books about mysticism.

One day, the twenty-year-old prince was sitting on his windowsill reading a book.

The weather is not sunny, which is perfect for him to also enjoy the sight of the outside world for a while.

Yet, the sight of the servants caught his eyes.

Down in the garden, two female servants are placing the clothes on the drying line.

What caught his attention is the small child running around the garden joyfully.

This small child is you, a servant's daughter probably.

You suddenly stop and look up at him.

Gwyn expected to see you scream and run away upon seeing his appearance, but instead, you smiled and waved at him.

He wanted to wave back at you, but you runaway to go and speak with your mother.

A child? This is the first time he sees a child in his life.

He continued to observe you from his window as you played outside, and he was intrigued by your innocence and joy.

Gwyn couldn't help but smile to himself, feeling a sense of warmth and connection to the child despite you being a stranger.

The prince wants you to be his platonic companion.

°°°

Gwyn had never felt this way towards anyone before. It was a new and unfamiliar feeling, but he found himself wanting more.

Maybe if he clears up his mind, he can forget about you.

He put down his book and decided to take a walk around the palace grounds after midnight, like he usually does when everyone sleeps.

Except for the guards who are always on the watch.

While walking through the castle, he finds a small figure sneaking around.

So, the prince decides to follow the figure, believing that it is you.

Gwyn cautiously approached the small figure, careful not to frighten them. As he got closer, he saw that it was indeed you.

You went to the kitchen and he followed inside after you, noticing that you were eating food.

He sighed in relief, realizing that you were the only person in the castle who didn't seem afraid of him.

"So, it's you," he said, his voice tinged with a hint of amusement. "I take it you don't follow the rules?"

You looked at him in surprise, your eyes wide with curiosity. "What rules?" you asked.

Gwyn chuckled, amused by your innocence. "The rules that say we can't be out after midnight," he explained. "But I see that doesn't bother you."

You giggled, your small hands covering your mouth.

"No, it doesn't," you said.

"I come out here all the time to eat."

Gwyn nodded, acknowledging the fact that you probably didn't have much to eat during the day.

It made sense; you were a servant's child, after all.

He took a step closer to you, noticing that you were quite short in height.

"What's your name, child?" he asked softly, his eyes fixed on you.

You hesitated for a moment before answering, your mind trying to process the situation.

"My name is (Y/n), Sir Angel" you replied cheerfully.

"Sir Angel?"

Gwyn inquires, surprised at your nickname for him.

"Yes, because you are beautiful like an angel"

Your words was enough to make him finally burst into tears.

People always saw him as a cursed monster, but here you, a child, calling him an 'Angel'

"That's such a sweet thing to say," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "But I'm not an angel. I'm what they call a 'monster.'"

He sighed heavily, feeling the weight of his words, as gets down on his knees.

Gwyn paused for a moment, looking at you with a mix of sadness and hope in his eyes.

"But you, you accept me for who I am. You don't care about my appearance or my curse. You just see me as a person."

He smiled warmly at you, grateful for your kindness and understanding.

You pat his head, curious to touch his hair, your fingers touching his strands.

Gwyn thought you were comforting him, but in reality, you just liked his hair color.

"Would you like to be my companion?"

Your eyes brighten up in happiness.

"Does that mean mommy can come too"

Gwyn's mood sours at the mention of your mother, and smiles bitterly about someone sharing you with him.

"Yes...she can"

°°°

The prince murdered your mother in cold blood right in front of your eyes, and hid the evidence in the same garden you used to play in when you were younger.

Now, at fifteen, you stand, in front of your mother's grave weeping.

Weeping for the fact that you are now a prisoner, with no way out of this castle.

The prince did indeed look angelic on the outside.

But, he truly was a monster all along.

#tw: toxic relationships #reader insert #platonic yandere #Yandere oc #yandere prince #possessive

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mrs-bucky-barnes106 · 6 months

Text

bucky x reader

the one where you get locked out and go a-knocking on your sworn enemy's door in the middle of the night

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"Fuck!" You yelled, for what seemed like the millionth time that night. You should've listened to Wanda and stayed home instead of going to that stupid bar with that guy. Now, you were locked out of your house because you brilliantly left your keys in his car, and he left you when he said he was going to the bathroom.

You'd been out here for a half hour now doing everything you could to get in your house. You tried to pick the lock, break open a window with a rock, everything. You even walked around back and found a half-open window. You had never been more grateful for your forgetfulness. The only problem was that the window was on the second floor, a full twenty feet above where you stood.

It seemed your only option was to ask for help. All you needed was a ladder to climb up to that window, and everything would be just dandy. Sighing you tried to remember who in your neighborhood was actually home, and who'd let you in at- what time was it anyway?

10:45 P.M. Not bad. Nat and Steve were on vacation. Wanda wasn't here. Sam was away on work.

Shit.

The harsh realization struck you square in the chest. Bucky. The man next door. He was your only option in this dire situation. You hated to think of it, but he was your only acquaintance on this street, if you could even call him that.

You stomped over to his house, your very uncomfortably high heels getting sucked into the mud in his garden.

You made it to his door, steeling yourself to knock.

Thump. Thump. Thump. Your knuckles rapped heavily on the door.

You stood there a minute, and when he didn't appear, you turned around, ready to walk away. He was probably sleeping, there was no use knocking anyway. Maybe you could just camp outside on your porch and wait for Wanda to get back.

Before you got very far, his deep rasp stopped you in your tracks. "Doll? What the hell are you doing here?" Bucky stood at the door, in all his bleary-eyed glory.

You considered bolting to save yourself the embarrassment.

No, you scolded yourself. You had already disturbed him, so the very least you could do was not stand there like a fool and instead, tell him about your troubles. It couldn't make him hate you any more than he already did.

"Doll?"

You turned around and gave him a small wave.

"Jesus-the hell happened to you? You look awful." You missed the concern in his eyes, only seeing the way they flicked down your body. You were suddenly embarrassed of the sequined dress you had chosen for the night. Not exactly something you wanted your most-hated coworker to see you in.

"Well, thanks," you rolled your eyes. "I- you know if you're just gonna stand there and tell me how bad I look, then forget it." You started to walk away.

"I wasn't- doll, wait. Why'd ya come?" He sounded earnest, almost concerned as he reached out for your wrist and gently grabbed hold of it.

"I- I need your help with something."

"With what?"

"I need help getting inside my house," you whispered, eyes cast downward from the shame that now consumed you.

God, how pathetic was this? Not only did you do the most idiotic thing you possibly could have in your entire adult life, but you went to Bucky of all people for help.

"With what? I can't hear you, c'mon speak up," his tone was commanding, and he sounded slightly irritated. His forehead crinkled, eyebrows scrunching down till his eyes were two thin slits, the blue orbs almost completely disappearing. Great, he was making you say it again.

You lifted your head up, staring into his eyes. The worst of it was over, you had come to Barnes. You spoke clearly, trying not to cringe at how stupid your situation sounded, "I need help getting into my house. Do you have a ladder or something?"

"The hell happened to your keys?"

"D-does it matter?!" You cried, exasperated.

"I- no, no, just come in, it's freezing out here and you look half-dead. And half-naked. Jesus, doll, do you not own anything warm?" Again with the insults. If you weren't desperate you would've showed him what half-dead really looked like.

You walked in after him, and were immediately struck with the realization that you had never been inside his house. And well, it looked...nice. Nicer than you expected for an old grouch like him. Huge murals filled two of the foyer walls, and everything was in pleasant, muted autumnal colors that somehow made him seem almost human.

"So where's the ladd...," you trailed off, realizing he was no longer in sight. Just great, he had left you by yourself immediately after inviting you in.

By this point, you were freezing in your mini dress, and all you really wanted was to just wipe off all your makeup and curl up into a ball of oblivion. Unsure if you were welcome to take a seat while you waited, you stood awkwardly in his foyer, shivering slightly because, of course, he had the thermostat turned all the way down.

"Here," Bucky reappeared suddenly, handing you a soft blanket and pillow.

"W-wait I don't need a place to sleep just the-"

"Look, doll, it's now 11:00 and it's freezing out. Quite frankly, you're insane if you think I'm gonna let you go out there with a ladder to climb into your side window. So, just please shut up, go to the bathroom do whatever you need to do, put on the change of clothes I left you and just go. to. sleep."

Wait change of clothes? Wouldn't they be...his clothes? Why was he being so nice to you, and more concerningly, why did that make you feel warm inside??

"I- okay, thank you," you didn't know what else to say.

Why was he being so nice to you? Where was the Barnes that was condescending? The one that was annoyed by every little thing you did and hated your entire existence?

He led you upstairs to his bathroom where you wiped off your makeup and splashed some water on your face.

Walking out to his bedroom, you found the clothes he laid out for you. An oversized T-shirt you guessed was too small for him and gray sweatpants. They were huge, but oh so soft. They also smelled like him, woodsy with a hint of...was that sandalwood?

You put on his clothes, instantly engulfed in the fabric. You walked downstairs with the blanket and pillow in hand, finding the couch easily enough.

"What're you doing?" Bucky asked, walking into the living room with a mug.

"Going to sleep?" You frowned up at him as you started to position the pillow to your liking.

"I- Jesus, doll, there's an entire bed up there. The hell do you mean you're sleepin' on the couch?"

"It's your house, I'm not taking your bed away too!"

"You're not taking the bed away, just go lie down."

"No, I'll sleep on the couch, it's fine."

"Why are you being stubborn? I'm offering you the bed."

"And I'm declining." You crossed your arms without realizing that you were mirroring the pose he held.

He sighed heavily before asking, "Why don't we both take the bed then, will that make ya feel better?" He sounded as exasperated as you felt and before you knew it, he was ushering you upstairs, grabbing the pillow and blanket he provided you with earlier.

You entered his room and laid down on opposite sides of the bed, which was warm, and so soft. Of course, it smelled like him too. You made a mental note to ask him about his mattress later to get yourself the same one.

"So, uh, how'd you get locked out?" Bucky asked awkwardly, cringing at his attempt to break the silence.

"I left my keys in this guy's car."

"So you didn't ask him for them back?" You felt him turn his head to face you, but you remained staring at the ceiling.

"He drove away before I realized, so yeah."

"Oh, what an ass," he growled.

"Got that right," you chuckled. Then, you stopped yourself. Why did he genuinely sound upset? Was he being protective? No, that was silly. He could care less about you.

You swallowed, turning to face him, welcomed by the sight of his pretty blue eyes and the smirk that would forever adorn his lips.

"Why'd you let me stay?" You finally asked, voicing the question that lingered in your mind.

"Because you'd freeze if you slept out there," he stated plainly.

"Thought you'd enjoy it if that happened," you chortled.

"Eh well- I wouldn't be happy about it. Besides I didn't need that weighing on my conscious all night."

"Mhm," you smiled at him.

"So, what if I told you that I make great pancakes," he scooted closer.

"I would say I'd love some," you said, scooting a bit closer as well. "On one condition."

"What?" You felt his hand rest on your arm, and you let it stay there.

Before you knew it, you were blurting, "Stay here and hold me?"

"Course doll, c'mere."

You snuggled your way up to his chest and felt loving hands run up and down your arms, which then snaked their way down to your waist. He buried his head in your neck, inviting you to rest yours on his chest.

"G'night Bucky."

"G'night doll, sleep well."

You felt a feather-light kiss being pressed to your temple, not quite sure if you had dreamed it all up. In the morning, however, you were greeted with a stack of pancakes in bed...

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roosterforme · 3 months

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The Younger Kind Part 48 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley is just trying to make it to the weekend. When he realizes he needs to visit Meredith, he's starting to feel like his sanity is hanging on by a thread. At least he has you, and he knows he can trust you implicitly. And maybe this will give him the kind of closure he didn't know he needed.

Warnings: Swearing, angst, fluff, mention of abortion, and age gap (18+)

Length: 4800 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

Afternoon rain clouds had rolled in, making the city look darker than normal. You noticed right away that the usual sunlight wasn't coming in the windows at work, and it was putting everyone in a strange mood. Even the tiny patients you were taking care of seemed to be crying a little bit more than usual.

You needed to leave soon to pick up Noah which required you to cancel your nail appointment. Bradley didn't even tell you why he'd be late, he just said he would be. It wasn't that you didn't trust him, you just wanted to know that he was okay, but you hadn't heard from him again.

As soon as you walked outside and headed for your car, it started pouring rain. It was so unexpected, you started laughing. You couldn't even remember the last time you'd had a rainy day. Maybe if the lightning and thunder held off, you could take Noah outside to play in it. But as you opened your car door and ducked inside, a streak of jagged light went shooting across the sky.

"Damn," you muttered, carefully driving through the parking lot. You thought about Skittles home alone in her crate. She must be terrified all alone right now, and at this rate, it was going to take you longer than usual to get to Noah. Traffic was backed up like crazy, because nobody knew how to drive in this. You sat at the same red light for three cycles before you were finally able to move at all, and by the time you reached Noah's daycare, it was almost time for them to close.

You dashed out through the rain and inside the building where you were confronted with Casey while you looked like a drowned rat. "Common sense would tell you to use an umbrella when it's raining," she said sweetly as you started to shiver in the air conditioning.

"It's San Diego," you replied coolly. "It never rains here."

She made a production of leaning past you to look out the door. "I think you're wrong, but I can't be certain." She set the clipboard down on the counter and turned away from you as she said, "Poor Noah is going to get completely soaked."

You rolled your eyes as you signed your name a little bit aggressively. It's not like the child would melt. If Bradley came to pick him up instead of you, there was no doubt in your mind that Casey would have bent over backwards to make sure there was an umbrella for him to use. But since it was you, she just stood there with her arms crossed as you scooped Noah up.

"You ready to get a little wet, sweet Noah?" you asked him, kissing his cheek. "It's really raining hard."

He squealed in delight as you ran to your car with him, but you ended up getting a lot more soaked than he did. Your scrubs were clinging to your body when you finally closed the drivers' door behind you. "How about we go home, get dried off and snuggle under a blanket while we watch Mickey Mouse?"

"Yes!" cheered Noah. Maybe you'd just order a pizza later when Bradley got home. You were wet and tired and just wanted to relax.

"Okay. Here we go."

---------------------------

Bradley was a nervous mess on his way to see Tracy. "Come on," he groaned, trying to fight his way through the traffic downtown to get to her office in the rain. He should have left base as soon as he was grounded for the rest of the afternoon, but everyone started talking shop, including the admirals, and he didn't want to leave too early.

The array of invasive thoughts plaguing him at the moment was making his stomach churn. Every image in his mind was worse than the last. He was itching to call the First Bank of San Diego, but he thought he'd better talk to Tracy about it first. Reeking of jet fuel that was only made worse by getting his flight suit soaked in the rain, he rode the elevator up to her office. It was kind of late, and the building was mostly empty, but sure enough, the lights were shining brightly in her suite.

When he walked through the first set of glass doors, Tracy leaned out of her office door with a completely neutral expression on her face. "Hi. Come on back."

Bradley closed the distance in a few long strides. "Don't take this the wrong way, but I really didn't want to have to see you today. And I don't have my checkbook with me."

Tracy shook her head and gestured toward the small conference table before she grabbed a Red Bull from her refrigerator. "I'm not billing you for this."

Bradley's heart took a nosedive as he sank down into one of the chairs. If she wasn't even collecting payment, this must be worse than he thought. "Just get it over with, please. What's going on? Did Meredith open an account in my name or something?" he asked. Then he gripped the edge of the table. "In Noah's name? Fuck! Did she figure out a way to fucking bankrupt me?"

He was about to be sick. Once again, he was kicking himself for never taking all of these precautions earlier, right after Meredith left him with a three month old. There would have been ways to safeguard both of them from this sort of thing, but he would have never believed Meredith was capable of doing what she did before. She probably took out a mortgage or opened a credit card. She would have had easy access to Bradley's banking information and social security number. It had been ages since he checked his credit score.

Tracy was offering him a Red Bull, but she slowly pulled it away from him like it was the last thing in the world he needed as he gripped her table so hard, the whole thing was vibrating a little bit.

"Take a deep breath, Bradley. It's nothing so extreme," she assured him in a calm voice as she pried his fingers away from her furniture. "Meredith opened an account right after Noah was born and put a few thousand dollars into it."

Bradley clasped his hands in his lap and thought back a few years. Meredith had been happy for a little while. She seemed to warm up to the idea of Noah, and after he was born and they had a tiny newborn at home, she was very involved. But as the weeks wore on, Bradley noticed her involvement slipping while he was the one picking up all the loose ends and working full time.

"I don't remember anything about a bank account," he told Tracy. "What does this have to do with me exactly?"

She took a drink before she said, "You're listed as a custodian on the account. Technically the money was put in Noah's name, but since he's a minor, he can't handle it himself."

His brow was furrowed as he shook his head. "I'm still confused. Isn't it Meredith's account?"

"Yes and no," she replied. "Once she put your name and social security number on the line below hers, she made you liable for the money, too. And the bank must have uncovered that Meredith is incarcerated. This happens from time to time. When they couldn't reach her, they found her lawyer's information on the court docket. And then her lawyer called me. Apparently your address wasn't listed."

Bradley felt like his head was swimming with information. "So you're telling me I can go to the Coronado branch of the First Bank of San Diego tomorrow and get this money out?"

"Potentially," she replied mildly.

He thought for a beat before he asked, "Is Meredith still entitled to the money? Even though I have sole custody of Noah?"

"Sure. Her name is also on the account." She shrugged and checked the time. "It's not quite six yet. Should we call the bank and find out exactly what's going on?"

"Yeah," he agreed, reaching for his phone. It would be better to do this with her here so he could make sure he got all the information he needed. "Should I just put it on speaker?"

She nodded as she finished her drink and tossed the can into her already overflowing recycle bin. He tapped on the number of the missed calls from earlier and waited while it rang. "First Bank of San Diego corporate offices, this is Belinda. How can I help you?"

Bradley cleared his throat. "Uh, hi, Belinda. My name is Bradley Bradshaw, and I missed some phone calls earlier? I... was hoping you could answer some questions about an account?"

"Please hold."

He looked at Tracy who seemed completely unfazed by all of this as she examined her manicure. It was great that she was always able to stay so calm, but his heart was thundering up into his throat. He wasn't about to believe there weren't a thousand credit cards maxed out in his name until he investigated it all for himself.

"This is Barry."

Bradley didn't know quite what to say as he cleared his throat again. "Hi, this is Bradley Bradshaw. I'm actually here with my lawyer, and I missed some calls earlier?"

"Right, yes," came the man's voice along with the sound of him typing on a keyboard. "We were trying to reach you regarding an account that was opened with your minor child listed as a beneficiary. Information would have been mailed to you, but we did not have an associated address on file."

"Can you tell us more about the account?" Tracy asked, and Bradley was relieved that she knew what to do.

"Well, I can tell you that once an account reaches over $15,000 without any activity in the prior three years, we make a courtesy phone call to see if the owner wants to move any of the funds."

"Fifteen thousand?" Bradley asked, running his fingers through his hair anxiously. "That account has fifteen thousand dollars in it? And she never touched it?"

Barry was silent for a beat. "I really can't provide much more information unless you visit one of our branches in person, sir."

"Shit," Bradley muttered, leaning back in his seat and staring at the ceiling.

"Sounds great, Barry. Thanks for your time," Tracy said before she ended the call for him. "You need to go to the bank. Can you go tomorrow?"

"Yeah," Bradley grunted. "So... there's money just sitting there that potentially belongs to Noah through me?"

"Sounds like it."

Bradley met her eyes. "And I can just take it out? And move it into a different account?"

Now she looked a little apprehensive. "I wouldn't advise you to do it quite that way."

-----------------------------

You let Noah play out in the rain with Skittles for approximately five minutes while you stood inside the backdoor and watched. He had bugged so long and so hard, you caved. But as soon as you heard a rumble of thunder, you ran out and picked him up where he was splashing in a puddle in his dinosaur rain boots while the tiny pup barked. You got soaked all over again in the process, but you carried him inside as lightning flashed across the sky.

"It's getting too stormy!" you told him over all the noise. "Time to go in!"

You grabbed a towel from the stack you left on the kitchen table, and Noah let you fuss over him. You wrapped Skittles in a towel when she started to shake from the cold air conditioned temperature inside, and eventually all three of you ended up on the couch under a blanket with cartoons playing. There was no sign of Bradley, but when you texted and asked him to bring pizza home, he agreed right away.

Anything my Princess wants.

You smiled at your phone as you sat with Noah on your lap and Skittles on his lap. Every few minutes, you buried your nose in his fresh smelling hair and inhaled as you gave him a squeeze. "When's Daddy coming home?" he asked as the sky outside just got darker as the evening wore on. "I'm hungry."

"Soon," you promised him, but it had gotten so late, you were about to make Noah a snack when you finally heard a key in the front door lock.

Skittles was the first one who jumped down from the couch. "Daddy!" Noah launched off of your lap and ran to the door as Bradley kicked it open. His hair and flight suit were basically soaked, but he was holding a pizza and a container of salad with a coffee cup balanced on the top. His handwriting on the cup was wet, and the marker was starting to run, but you could still read Princess. And he looked absolutely exhausted.

"Hey, Bub," he mumbled, kneeling to kiss Noah while he balanced everything in one hand. "You having fun with Mommy?"

Even Bradley's voice was laced with fatigue that you could practically feel as you stood and went to him. You kissed his wet cheek and whispered, "Thank you," as you took the food and your coffee cup from his hand. He just looked at you and nodded, and you gave him a minute with Noah and Skittles as you took the food to the kitchen and got more clean towels. He was just taking off his boots when you returned and asked, "Do you want to talk about it?"

He grunted as he took the towels from you and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Can we wait until Noah's in bed?"

You really did not want to wait another hour, but you agreed anyway, and Bradley kissed your lips before he ran a towel over his face and hair. "Thanks, Baby," he whispered as you gave him a minute to get changed. You took Noah into the kitchen and started to cut up a slice of pizza for him. You were just adding a liberal amount of dressing onto the salad when Bradley walked in wearing gym shorts and a black undershirt that hugged his perfect torso, fresh from a quick shower.

"I love that about you," he crooned next to your ear, his hands soft on your waist as he nodded at the salad.

You laughed and said, "I know you do, Daddy." You were tempted to crawl onto his lap and try to make him feel better while he ate, because he'd clearly had a stressful day. With a quick glance at Noah where he was getting sauce all over his face, you decided to settle into your own seat with a piece of pizza and half of the salad. Bradley stacked two slices together and ate them at the same time in about ten bites.

"You really had a bad day, huh?" you asked, breaking off a piece of your crust and eating it.

He shook his head, brow scrunched in something like concern as he watched his son eat. "Not exactly. Just very long."

Once all the food was gone, you sipped your coffee while you cleaned up. Bradley would have normally done that, but when Noah asked to play blocks with him, you sent them into the living room. You could hear the block towers go clattering to the floor over and over again as Noah giggled. The rain hadn't tapered off, and you were already starting to yawn by eight o'clock. That's when Bradley poked his head into the kitchen with Skittles held in one big hand.

"Hey, Baby. I'm going to get Noah ready for bed, and then we can talk in the living room?"

You nodded and finished loading the dishwasher before curling up with the blanket on the couch. Bradley brought Noah in for a goodnight kiss and then vanished again. By the time he returned empty handed, you were half asleep, but you climbed onto his lap after he sat down. "What's going on?" you asked, your cheek cradled on his shoulder and your lips brushing his neck. You could feel his soft length against your thigh through his gym shorts, and you let your hand settle low on his abs.

He cleared his throat softly and whispered, "I need to go to Las Colinas Detention Facility either tomorrow or Wednesday." A chill rippled through your body even though you were tucked in his warm embrace. You jerked yourself back so you were looking him in the eye as he added, "I need to talk to Meredith."

All you could picture was the stress you saw on his face months ago when she dragged him through the court battle over Noah. You grabbed at your arm where you'd gotten all cut up when you fell in the parking lot at Meyer Park. You could practically still feel and hear all of the pieces of broken glass crunching beneath your feet when you found that your apartment had been broken into.

"Why?" you gasped as tears stung at your eyes. A sick feeling settled into your belly, and all you could do was repeat the question, "Why?"

"Shh. It's okay, Princess," he promised, kissing your cheeks and the tears you weren't even aware you'd shed. "I'm going to make sure it's okay."

You were nodding and shaking a little bit as you listened to him explain that Meredith had opened an account when Noah was a baby. Apparently there was a substantial amount of money now, and Bradley's name was also on the account. "It makes me feel like, even just for a little while, Meredith actually cared about Noah," he whispered, and now you saw tears in his eyes too before he tipped his head back against the couch. "I have a lot of mixed feelings about this, but I guess it's not all bad."

You swallowed down the discomfort you felt and whispered, "You loved her then. And she loved you. And Noah. I mean... she was his mom."

Bradley lifted his head up and tightened his grip around your waist. "You are Noah's mom," he insisted, and you immediately burst into tears. "That's how I want it. That's how Noah wants it. That's how you told me you want it. And that's not going to change. But I just feel like Noah should have this money from Meredith."

You nodded as he wiped at your tears. "He should," you sobbed. "But why do you have to go to Las Colinas? Why can't you just withdraw it?"

Now Bradley let his forehead come to rest on your shoulder, like he needed the comfort associated with being close to you. "I could do that, but I stopped to talk to Tracy, and she thinks that would do more harm than good. There's a simple form I can get from the bank tomorrow after I talk to someone about the exact amount in the account. The plan is for me to take the form to Las Colinas myself, talk to Meredith, and ask her to sign it and effectively forfeit the funds over to me. That way there could be no questions asked."

"And what if she won't sign it?"

He kissed your cheek. "Then you and I can decide if I should withdraw the cash and move it to a different account or just leave it there and pretend it doesn't exist."

You were struck once again by the way Bradley made all of his decisions for you and with you. He treated you with respect when he made plans, and he valued your opinion. "Do you want me to come with you? To the bank or to see Meredith? So you don't have to do it alone?"

His lips and mustache were tickling your jaw as he said, "No. Tracy and I agreed I should go alone. And I really want you to take care of Noah after work so that's one less thing I have to worry about." He kissed you softly. "But thank you for offering."

And that's how you fell asleep, on his lap with his lips pressed to your skin.

------------------------------

Bradley couldn't be sure if it was his khaki uniform, but it definitely seemed to help his cause. When he got to the bank after work on Tuesday, he was called right back to a small office where an agent started helping him. "Okay, Lieutenant Bradshaw, let's check this account balance for you," she said as she typed in his social security number. "You are looking at $17,271.28. Would you like to transfer it to a different account?"

He just gaped at her. That could pay for a year of college for Noah. "Actually... I'm going to need to think about it," he replied, and a little while later he left her office with a single piece of paper.

He started the thirty minute drive out of the city to the women's correctional facility. You were probably leaving work right now. Maybe you were pulling into the daycare parking lot. Either way, he didn't have to worry about his son when he was with you. Instead, he could focus on what he needed to do right now, because he was having some mixed feelings about taking this money at all. But if it was actually intended to be used for Noah, then he wanted to give Meredith the opportunity to do the right thing.

After he parked, he waited in line to be searched before entering the building. Here, his uniform did absolutely nothing. In fact, he had to remove his belt and all of his pins and leave them in a little tray in the front office before going though another metal detector. When an officer asked who he was there to see, she looked surprised when he said Meredith's name.

"Right," she replied, leading him toward a small waiting area. "Sit in here, and I'll call you in if she wants to see you."

He eased himself down onto a metal chair that was bolted to the floor and started to sweat. If Meredith wouldn't even talk to him, then he was going to have to leave the money where it was. He wouldn't be able to bring himself to touch it. He was starting to resent even coming here, because this week was supposed to have been a fun one with the air show coming up on Saturday and the hospital tour on Friday night. He could have just told Tracy and everyone at the bank that he didn't care about the money.

"Bradshaw?" called a different officer, and Bradley stood. Well. Apparently she was willing to talk to him after all. A door was held open for him and then another one. He was scanned into a narrow hallway, and once that door closed behind him, he was scanned into a room with a large number '3' on it.

And there sat his ex in a gray jumpsuit with her hair pulled back into a ponytail. Her sleeves were rolled up her forearms, her hair was longer now, and frankly she looked a lot better than he was expecting. Her eyes tracked his every move as she crossed her arms over her chest and said, "Bradley."

He sat in one of the two chairs that were once again bolted to the floor, and his knees almost hit hers as he did so. "Meredith. How are things?" he asked for a lack of anything better coming to his mind.

"What are you doing here?" she asked immediately, leaning a little closer to him. "What do you want?" When he hesitated with his answer, she laughed and shook her head. "You wouldn't be here if you didn't need something from me, so just spit it out."

He shifted in his seat and withdrew the sheet of folded paper from his pocket. "You opened a savings account for Noah right after he was born? I had no idea it existed. The bank just started trying to reach out to me, because you put my name on the account as well," he stated as he tried to hand her the paper.

She stared at him, eyes wide as her cheeks flushed pink, but she said nothing, and she didn't move at all.

"I'm assuming you forgot about it," he added.

Meredith finally took the paper from him as she said, "Why didn't you just take the money then?" She seemed to begrudgingly move her icy stare from his face to the page as she unfolded it and started to read. Bradley knew if she signed it, she would be willingly forfeiting the funds. She would know the exact amount of money and offer it up on her own. He knew he shouldn't feel guilty about asking her to do this, but he kind of did anyway. And now that he was looking at her, he knew he couldn't just do it behind her back if she didn't sign.

"I wanted you to know about it before I did it," he told her softly. "I wanted to ask you why you put the money in the account in the first place."

She refolded the paper and once again met his gaze. "I originally opened the account so someday Noah could go to business school like me instead of joining the Navy like you."

Bradley nodded and almost wanted to smile. "Makes a lot of sense." He took a deep breath and whispered, "You were excited when you were pregnant. You were excited when he was a newborn."

Meredith closed her eyes and shook her head as she held her hand up in front of her. She didn't look at him as she said, "I tried, but I couldn't do it. You were better at all of it than I was, and I fucking hated it more and more every day. I hate being at home. I hated having to feed Noah and change diapers while you went back to work. I hated it so much. The four months that I took off completely ruined my career, and I was never able to recover. And that's where I was happiest."

Bradley nodded and clasped his hands in his lap. Her next sentence hurt him to hear, but she had every right to say it. "I think it would have been better for me if I'd had abortion. I think I could have been happy right now if I did." She kind of shrugged, barely looked at him and then turned toward the corner of the ceiling. Bradley followed her gaze as she loudly said into a camera, "Can somebody bring me a pen? I swear I won't stab him with it."

Bradley was afraid to say anything yet, and nobody appeared with a pen right away. Meredith read over the sheet of paper again, and eventually she said, "This was the only account I added your name to. Don't go sniffing around my bank for more, because you won't get it."

"Right," he replied, finding her words almost comical since she was the one trying to fleece him earlier this year.

"And every cent goes into a savings account for college tuition for him. A university or a trade school or something. Anything except the Navy. And none of it goes to that disgusting little slut you're living with now."

Bradley had to bite back his response as the door opened, and an officer walked in with one black ink pen. She handed it to Meredith and stood next to her while she signed the form, and then the officer collected the pen once more before leaving the room. He was honestly a little shocked, but he accepted the paper when she handed it to him.

"Thank you," he told her, deciding not to mention that you were going to be his wife and Noah's legal parent sooner rather than later if he had anything to say about it. She really didn't need to know about that, because she didn't have any say in the matter. "I'll save it for Noah for school. And if he wants to join the Navy like a real idiot, then I'll donate it all to your alma mater. But just... thanks for signing for it."

She nodded. "You were going to be able to take it anyway. At least now you'll cooperate with its original intended purpose."

Once again, he wasn't going to waste his time arguing with her by trying to say that he would have left the money untouched. He didn't need her to believe anything he said except that he'd save her money for Noah. "I will absolutely do that."

"I know you will."

-------------------------------

Well, well, well. What do we have here? Proof that Meredith cared at one time? Please ignore any financial inaccuracies, I tried my best. Aaaaand, onward to the air show. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 49

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ioniiaa · 3 months

Text

My Darling, My Honey

Alastor X Fem!Reader (Part 5)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Quick Notes:

This is when both reader/you and Alastor are both alive. (... we'll probably end up in hell later on btw so stay tuned...)

Reader is an artist/painter.

Part 5:

It was almost pure bliss.

Except many months later, you found out a secret of his one day.

He was an exceptional chef, you were always in awe of how he cooked such magnificent dishes every day.

But one day, you peeked out into the forest through the window in the living room and saw Alastor standing alone, covered in blood. Your first instinct was to run outside, so you did just that.

You rush to his side and ask if he's okay, and what had happened to make him covered in such copious amounts of blood.

He blinks a few times before oddly turning his head to you, breaking out of his stupor, "Oh my dearest (y/n), do not fret so. For I am only acquiring our dinner for tonight!"

You look down at what he is holding in his hands. Your hand shot up to cover your mouth. A leg. A human leg. Your eyes then trail to the ground where you see a bloody human body, mangled beyond recognition. "This is.. dinner?"

A large grin appears on Alastor's face, "Quite right! This one should be enough to last us through the week!"

He looks at your face with an almost vicious look to his eyes, awaiting your response anxiously, not that he would let that show, anyways.

All you can manage is "Oh. Okay." Before you walk back inside the house without another word.

It's no exaggeration to say that your brain chemistry was permanently altered from that moment onward.

The situation felt so strange and bizarre, you didn't know what to think. Part of you knew that was he's been doing is extremely horrible and corrupt. It almost made you empty the contents of your stomach, it didn't feel real.

It didn't feel real, but suddenly some of Alastor's behaviors started to make sense. His picky taste for food...He never let you help with cooking, you had chalked it up to him being more of a perfectionist, but now... you know its more than that. He was hiding the fact that he was butchering and preparing human flesh, right in your very home, all this time.

But.. for some reason... all you could think about was how dedicated he was to providing a comfortable life for you, because he truly loved you. Everything he did every day showed you that you mattered and that you deserved only the best.

"But I still love him with all my heart... maybe I'm just as messed up..." Was a sentence your mind kept repeating to itself for quite some time.

Your appetite shrinks after the initial shock for a few days, but you were never one to skip meals or have your appetite be gone completely, even if you were sick. In this instance, you weren't sure if it was a blessing or a curse in this case.

The meals he made for you had never made you sick in the past, so your body was already used to eating his cooking, and he made such amazing food, carefully crafted with such love and attention to detail, you couldn't help but keep eating his delicious cooking, no matter how bizarre and immoral it was.

"I think I really am just as messed up..." The thought crossed your mind again, but thoughts were interrupted by a rare occurrence, a kiss on the cheek from Alastor as he set your plate down in front of you.

The fact that you never stopped eating his cooking and always thanked him for his food and hard work, even after knowing where the main ingredient comes from, solidified the fact that you were the one. You loved him even after seeing him all bloody, holding a dismembered corpse, and telling you it was dinner. It was this pivotal moment that he knew, that you were the one to be his beloved forever.

In the coming weeks, things went back to "normal". You were settling into the new normal, as Alastor didn't hide the meal prep like he used to, and seeing him bloody and bringing in mysterious cuts of meat into the house became a normal sight to you.

One night when you were going to see Mimzy, Alastor informed you that he was unable to escort you that night. You were a little disappointed, but he assured you it was okay for you to go, it was just that he had plans that he wouldn't divulge any information on, no matter how much you pressed him.

Little did you know, but that night, Alastor was out on the town shopping for the perfect ring to propose to you with.

-> Part 6

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lyjen · 3 months

Text

North west corner

Summary: When the 118 gets to a factory fire, Evan and (Y/n) get stuck in side of the building. Revealing quite a surprise.

The team 118 was spread over the three rigs they owned, there was engine, ladder and the ambulance 118. Hen and Chimney were in the ambulance, while Bobby, Buck, Eddie and (Y/n) were in the ladder rig.

They were just on their way back to the firehouse as dispatch tried to connect with them. “Engine 118, ladder 118 and ambulance 118, Factory fire at 4545 West Caroll.” Sounded through the radio they had pinned to their chests.

As soon as they received the message, they grabbed their headsets and put them on their heads. And the ladder’s truck sirens were switched to on. Eddie was talking with Buck about some new restaurant down town. Meanwhile, (Y/n) was staring outside the window.

She wasn’t completely present. She had been feeling nauseous this morning, she couldn’t keep anything down. So she was basically performing on an empty stomach.

Completely lost in thought she flinched when her boyfriend who was sitting next to her, patted his hand on her knee to get her attention. She didn’t notice Evan asked her a question. A worried look spread on his face. “Huh?” Came out of her mouth. Evan’s hand was now rubbing up and down on her thigh.

“I asked if you were feeling okay?” (Y/n) nodded. “Yeah… Yeah I’m fine, just daydreaming” she answered him with a slight smile. While (Y/n) received another confused look from her brother who sat diagonally across from Evan. “Are you sure?” Eddie jumped in. The only thing (Y/n) was nod, and continued watching the streets they went rushing by. Brushing off the worried looks of her boyfriend and brother.

She was fine. They didn’t need to worry about her, just a little nausea wouldn’t hurt a soul. Am I right?

(Y/n) felt how the ladder truck came to a stop. Eddie went out on one side of the truck, and (Y/n) hopped out on the other side. She felt how Evan followed her steps. Both his hands resting on her shoulders as he jumped out of the vehicle. Evan took place next to her, putting his arm around her.

He closed the distance between them, his mouth moving towards her ear. “If there is something wrong, you know you can tell me. Right?” He whispered quietly. She nodded. “There’s nothing wrong.” she continued. And planted a kiss on his cheek and walked out of his grip.

As she was walking forward, she saw multiple victims running out of the building. Watching how the flames took over the factory building.

Bobby stood in front of his team, ready to shout orders. Evan and (Y/n) joined the group of firefighters. “Okay! Dispatch said there are still some trapped workers inside, they didn’t say how much. But I don’t like this smoke, so get a hose line in there. Be quick on this one, I’m saying four minutes tops! Hen, Chim, set up triage! Eddie, Buck, (Y/n), you go get those workers out of there! Let’s go!” Bobby’s voice tried to reach his crew. “On it cap!”

The ladder team opened up the compartment where they storaged the tanks, got them out and put them on their back. (Y/n) felt a feeling of discomfort crawling in her arms when she put on the tank on her back, but she ignored it. Maybe it was just a pulled muscle, a wrong movement she made.

Evan took a moment to take a glance at his girlfriend, he knows something is wrong. He could tell, she hadn’t been eating all day and she was absent. Those weren’t things she did on the regular basis. For now, he’d let it slide, they had to get inside to get the last victims out of that building. Hurriedly Evan put his mask on like the others and walked towards the entrance of the building.

When they got in the building, flames were literally everywhere. The flames were surrounding them. “LAFD! Call out!” They tried to call through their masks while also trying to get above the sound of the fire.

Repeatedly they called out that familiar sentence. Waiting for someone to respond while they did a quick sweep. They only had 4 minutes, that’s how much they got from Bobby. In one of the halls, they found one of the missing workers. The man was covered in ashes, and coughing as he couldn’t breathe through the thickness of the smoke. “Hey over here!” Buck called out as he was the first one to discover the man.

Evan lowered down to help the man stand on his own two feet. Eddie stopped him. “I got him! You two go look for others!” Eddie spoke as he took over the injured man from Evan. Eddie slung the man’s arm over his shoulder, giving him the support he needed and tried to make his way back out of the burning building. “Chim, Hen, I’m coming out with one victim!” Eddie spoke through his radio.

Eddie walked through the exit, what was also the entrance of the building. He handed the man over to Hen, so she could check him out and give him the treatment he needed.

Evan and (Y/n) tried to sweep the level for more injured employees. Although (Y/n) was in a burning building, she had a cold sweat dripping over her face and over her back. Her vision went blurry, but she tried to blink it away and follow Evan’s shadow. It could be the lack of energy, she didn’t eat all day. That could be the reason, right?

They entered an office, Buck entered first, searching the office. As (Y/n) tried to steady herself on the doorframe of the office. Trying to catch her breath. Her vision didn’t change. She was still sweating and her breaths became more rapid. She felt like she had run a marathon, but all she did was sweep the building together with her boyfriend. “LAFD! Call out!” Evan’s voice filled her eardrums again.

Bobby was outside, trying to estimate the situation “I don’t like this smoke! I want all firefighters to evacuate the building immediately!” Bobby called through his radio as he sees big clouds of dark grey smoke come out of the factory.

Buck searches the last part of the office, and made up his conclusion. “No one here, we’re coming out now!” Buck called through his radio. Buck turns on his heels, and saw his girlfriend standing in the doorway. “Come on let’s go!” He tried to motivate her.

She felt weak as if every piece of energy was sucked out of her in that little time. Her eyelids were becoming heavy, it took to many energy to keep her eyes open. She really tried to keep herself awake. But she couldn’t. Her heartbeat was ringing in her ears, together with her breathing.

Her knees buckled and she fell down on the floor. Letting gravity doing its work and pull her down to the ground.

“(Y/n)!” he yells out. He couldn’t even notice wat was happening.

He rushes towards his girlfriend and let himself flop down next to her side. “(Y/n)?? (Y/n)??” He panics. He doesn’t know what to do. His hand fell onto his radio, “Mayday, mayday! Firefighter down! I repeat firefighter down!” Buck sounded through the radio.

“Buck what’s going on?” He heard Eddie ask on the radio, his voice was full of worry. Eddie knew that the only firefighter who could be down, was (Y/n) since Evan was the one to speak through the radio. They both were the last ones to pull out of the building. The rest of the team was already outside of the building waiting for orders from the captain.

“Buck?!” Eddie repeated over the radio, almost crushing his radio with his bare hand. Evan put two of his fingers in her neck, and tried to search for her pulse. He couldn’t feel it. He couldn’t find her damn pulse. With trembling hands he reached out to his radio, and clicked in the button they used to speak. “I.. I think she’s having a heart attack” he spoke through the radio.

Eddie’s eyes went wide as he heard Evan’s response. He looked at Bobby. “What’s your location Buck?” Bobby spoke into his radio.

Eddie, who already had put his helmet back on, ready for his sign to go in, looked at Bobby with pain in his eyes. How was it possible that his damn’ sister was having a heart attack? She was twenty two. How does a twenty two year old get a heart attack?

“Bobby we have to get them!” Eddie tried to convince Bobby to let him go in. He was desperate to help his sister. “Eddie Stand down.” Is the only thing what came out of Bobby’s mouth. Bobby couldn’t let Eddie go in that fire hazard. It wasn’t safe.

Evan noticed how the fire came closer to them. “(Y/n)!” He called one more time, desperate to get her awake again. “Shit!” He cursed to himself as his attempt to get her awake again didn’t work. He stood up from (Y/n)’s side, and grabbed the handle they used to get the tanks to sit in place on a back of a person. He put both of his hands on the two straps which were holding the tank of his girlfriend into place. And he dragged her towards the office, which hasn’t caught fire yet.

Another explosion took place in the factory Evan and (Y/n) were in. Evan had to perform CPR, and find a way out. If he waited any longer, he could lose his girlfriend, and his best friend’s sister. “I’m starting CPR now!” He yelled through his radio. Evan didn’t bother to open her florescent jacket, it was too risky. The fire was already coming for them both. He had to do this now, he couldn’t lose more time. Evan locked his fingers together, straightened his elbows and pushed down his hands against (Y/n)’s chest.

“Come on baby, come on!” He tried to motivate her to come back to reality as he continued to push down on her chest. “You’re not allowed to do this (Y/n). You can’t go anywhere.”

Why didn’t Evan notice something sooner, he knew something was wrong. He knew she wasn’t okay and should’ve stopped her as soon as they came on scene.

But now here he was, performing CPR on his own girlfriend in a burning building.

Eddie turned towards Bobby. “Bobby, please you have to let me back in there! That’s my sister!” Tears were welling in his eyes. His heart was pounding as if it tried to break free out of his chest. It almost felt like he was having a heart attack himself.

Bobby gave Eddie a thoughtful look, he was actually considering Eddies request to go back in there. He couldn’t let them die in there. They were his family. And he needed to get them back to safety. The silence was ear deafening. He looked at Chimney and Hen, and then back at Eddie.

“Okay Eddie, let’s go!” Bobby reached out to get an oxygen tank and mask. Bobby put on his gear, as did Eddie. When they were all geared up, they hurried towards the entrance of the building. When another explosion took over the scene. Fire roared in front of the entrance.

Eddie was screaming out so loud, that he couldn’t notice how hard he was screaming. Bobby grabbed his upper arm and pulled him back from the entrance.

Eddie tried to break free of the hold Bobby got him in, he needed to safe his sister and Buck. Tears were leaving his eyes. He didn’t even think it was possible to have that many tears.

Bobby’s hand reached his radio. “Buck, the entrance is blocked. Put her on your shoulder if you have to. But you get the hell out of there, do you hear me!” Bobby ordered Evan.

Evan was putting all of his strength into getting his girlfriend back to life. He was pretty sure he heard and felt a few ribs cracking. He was exhausted. But he couldn’t give up. Tears were rolling down his face.

Buck stopped his compressions when he reached yet another thirty and slumped over her body to try and feel her pulse.

Nothing.

Evan threw off his oxygen mask, and gently took hers off too. His face was covered in ashes, drenched in sweat with a mix of his tears. He put his mouth over hers, and breathed into her lungs 2 times. Normally they wouldn’t do this. They had a rescue breath mask for that. But right now, he had to try this. He wouldn’t stop until he tried everything he could.

“(Y/n), if you can hear me. You have to wake up! And get the hell out that building!” Eddie tried to motivate her, even though she might not be able to hear him.

Evan interlaces his fingers again and put his fists on her chest again. Going for another round of chest compressions. Buck was blinking away the tears that were dripping off his cheeks onto (Y/n)’s florescent jacket. Gasping for breaths as he continued CPR. Meanwhile Buck was scanning the area he was in, trying to figure out how to get the hell out of this hell hole.

He was focusing himself on her chest, counting each push he gave her chest. Evan’s eyes shot to her eyes when he heard a gasp for breath, desperate for oxygen. She coughed as if she wanted her lungs to leave her body. He took his hands off her chest. “Hey! Hey! You’re fine, you’re okay!” Evan trying to reassure her, putting her face between his hands.

With one hand, he grabbed her oxygen mask and put it back on her face. Her chest was hurting from the pressure Evan used to get her back to life.

Evan noticed a door in the back of the office. He was silently hoping it was a staircase with a fire exit.

They had no time to waste. Evan and (Y/n) needed to get the hell out of that building. Evan could tell (Y/n) was too weak to hold herself up. He put back on his own oxygen mask and put his left arm underneath her lower back, his right arm found its way around her thighs and he hoisted her up in his arms.

Buck hurried forward towards the back door in the office. He turned his back to the door, and kicked his leg back to open the door.

Through the door, a beam of daylight welcomed Evan. There was a window. It was a kind of back office. Evan put back a chair with his feet and set (Y/n) down in it for a moment. He ran towards the window and searched around for anything he could smash the window with. But there was nothing usefull, not a damn thing. The room was already filling itself up with dark grey smoke. Evan didn’t have a choice. He had to break the window with his hands. Without thinking, Evan smashed his arm through the glass, immediately breaking the rest of the old window.

“Buck. Status update.” Bobby ordered Evan through his radio. The radio went silent. No answer from Evan nor (Y/n).

“Baby I am sorry, I need to do this.” He told (Y/n) as he fully ignored Bobby through the radio. The flames were already taking over the small walls of the back office.

He grabbed (Y/n)’s right arm with his left arm, lowered himself down and put his right arm around her thighs. And he hoisted (Y/n) over his shoulder as he fast made his way through the window with (Y/n) dangling over his shoulder.

Another explosion took over the building. The roof started to come down, as Evan tightly held (Y/n) in position.

Eddie felt his heart beating in his throat. He was pretty sure he was about to throw up. His eyes were on the entrance of the building as another loud bang sounded through the air. Bobby was trying to get in touch with Evan and (Y/n). “Buck. What’s your status?” Bobby called again through the radio. Nothing but noise from the frequency sounded through the radio.

Eddie stepped back. He put both his hands in his hair and was pretty sure he pulled some strands of hair from his scalp. He looked up at the sky, as he tried to stop the tears from falling down his face.

Bobby tried to radio Buck one more time. “Buck what-“ he couldn’t finish his sentence as he saw movement next to the building. Evan’s broad frame came in to his sight. “Eddie!” Bobby called out when he clearly saw Buck rushing towards them with (Y/n) over his shoulder. Eddie’s eyes shot towards Bobby, and then to the person Bobby was pointing at.

“Chim I need a gurney over here!” Before Bobby could even finish his sentence, Chimney came running down with a gurney with Eddie right behind him. “And get a hose line and water tank on that building!” Bobby continued shouting his orders.

When Evan reached the gurney, he slowly sat (Y/n) down on the gurney. While Bobby tried to take off the oxygen tank off her back, Eddie helped to gently take off her oxygen mask. Evan also took off his mask and let his gloved hand slide over his girlfriend’s cheek while she was coughing. He stepped back to give Chimney the space he needed to examine (Y/n).

Chimney held a light in front of her eyes. Asking her to follow it with her eyes. (Y/n) weakly tried to slap back his hand. “I’m fine” she groaned, and pushed herself up to get off the gurney when her knees buckled again. Eddie catches her just in time before her body met the floor again.

Evan rushed to her other side, next to Eddie. While Eddie and Evan try to push the female firefighter back on the gurney. She tries to push them both back. “Hey! Hey! Hey! (Y/n). Stop. Please.” Evan tries to stop her.

She stopped pushing them both. Evan took a step closer towards his girlfriend who was sitting on the gurney now. He carefully took one of her hands in his. “I know you’re not fine. I knew it from the beginning you stepped out of that ladder truck.” He confessed. He wasn’t that stupid. “I could see it on the look on your face. This past week, you’ve been acting so strange. So please, tell me. What’s going on. A twenty two year old doesn’t get a heart attack just like that.”

A silence fell. (Y/n) her eyes fell down looking at her hands. One of them was holding Evan’s. She squeezed her eyes shut. Trying to avoid the waterfall of tears, that was trying to make its way outside of her tear ducts.

She sighed.

“I’m pregnant Buck, that’s what’s been going on.”

#911 #911 fox #911 imagine #buck imagine #buck x reader #evan buckley imagine #evan buckley x reader #evanbuckley #imagine #911 abc #eddiediaz #eddie diaz

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strangersmunsons · 2 months

Text

Eddie, My Love! eddie munson x reader // valentine's day special series Day 10 Prompt: Date Night ❤️ ~ 2,400 words you and Eddie go out for Valentine's Day.

Eddie can’t help feeling a squirm of embarrassment when he thinks about pitching you his date idea for your first Valentine’s Day evening together.

Admittedly, he hadn’t been paying attention to the calender; the date crept up on him without making a single peep. When Wayne pointedly asked him over breakfast what he was planning on doing for his girl, he just about choked on his cereal.

“D’you have eyes, kid? Every store window in town has been pink for weeks.”

His uncle just gave him an exasperated look, shaking his head.

All day, Eddie’s been scrambling to try and plan something special for you, which has proven to be difficult in a place like Hawkins, where opportunities for romance are pretty scarce, even when one (decidedly not him) has the brains to prepare further in advance than, well…the day of.

He called you right after talking to Wayne, and confirmed a time to pick you up for your date, whatever it was going to be. He spoke too animatedly on the phone, laughed too loudly to hide his anxiety, but was careful not to let on that he had no idea what the hell he was doing.

It ended up being only twenty minutes before he was supposed to leave when a lightbulb finally went off. But to say he wasn’t feeling confident about it would be…an understatement, to say the least.

He’s never celebrated this milestone with anybody before. Were you expecting something fancy? Maybe an expensive dinner that you could get dolled up for, and lose yourself in a dreamy whirlwind of fairy-tale romance?

Unfortunately, such extravagance was not only scarce in this rural town, but it’s also a little out of his price range. He desperately wishes that he could wine and dine you the way he thinks you deserve, but for now, on his bar-back wages, this is the best he’s got.

Eddie takes a deep breath, and raps quickly on your front door, pacing on the stoop. When the door swings open, you greet him with a beaming smile that makes you look so pretty it nearly knocks him off his feet. He’s seen it a million times before, technically; but it wasn’t until a few short months ago that you starting training that affection directly at him. He’s still not accustomed to the full force of it, and he’s not sure he ever will be.

“Hi,” you greet him, pulling the door shut behind you as you step outside. You move in close to him, closer than any mere friend would dare stand, but you’re not quite bold enough yet to reach out and grasp his hand, or lean in for the kiss yourself, so he does it for you. And with gusto.

If there’s one thing Eddie Munson is not afraid of, it’s PDA. Why should he care if someone sees him loving on you? He wants everyone to know how he feels. He’d shout it from the rooftops if he could.

“Hi, sweetheart.” He pecks at your lips again, and looks you up and down. “God, you look stunning.”

You try and laugh him off, looking a little embarrassed but not displeased. Eddie raises your entwined hands up into the air, and says, “C’mon, do a little twirl for me.”

Looking thoroughly flustered, you oblige, letting him spin you round — but only just the once.

“Yup, it’s just as I thought. Gorgeous, as usual.” He squints at you. “You got a boyfriend or somethin’ you’re trying to impress?”

You smooth the pleats of your skirt. “I do, actually. He’s ruggedly handsome and has a minor rap sheet — I’d watch out if I were you!” The last word comes out as a squeal, as Eddie suddenly snatches you up in his arms, holding you around your middle, and carries you down the short flight of steps. When both his sneakers are planted firmly on the sidewalk, he sets you down again.

Eddie escorts you to the van, and helps you climb inside. When you’re both seated, he pauses before putting the keys in the ignition. “I was thinking we could see a movie tonight,” he says conversationally. “Would that…be okay with you?”

He watches carefully for your expression, waiting for the glimmer of disappointment to flicker across your face, but you look perfectly at peace with the suggestion. “Sure,” you chirp, giving him a shrug and and a small, perfect smile.

He tells you which film he wants to take you to, and you bust up laughing, nodding your head in affirmation. Eddie grins back at you, cheeks reddening.

The drive to the theater is short, and within minutes, Eddie pulls into a parking space and cuts the engine.

Wanting to be sure, he asks you again, “Are you sure you’re okay with this? ‘Cause I know it’s not the most exciting night out, and I — I can call around to some restaurants if you’d rather do that instead, see if I can’t find some place that isn’t booked up —”

You cut him off. “Eddie, this is perfect. I think it’s a great idea.”

He raises his eyebrows skeptically, convinced that you’re indulging him. “If you say so.”

Eddie climbs out of the van while you wait patiently in the passenger seat, and walks around to your side. He’s been very insistent about this ritual since the first date: you cannot, under any circumstances, let yourself out of the vehicle; you must give him his chance to act the proper gentleman.

Basically, he gets pouty and sulks if you don’t let him get the door for you.

Eddie bows, one arm extended in a flourishing gesture. “Milady.”

“Thank you, kind sir.”

With his arm wrapped securely around your shoulders, and yours around his trim waist, the two of you head into the movie theater. There’s no new releases, no blockbuster rom-coms on this Wednesday in February, so the lobby is practically empty, save for the bored, gum-snapping cashier at the box office register.

“Two for My Bloody Valentine, please.”

God bless the Hawkins Cinema manager for having a sense of humor.

The cashier slides two tickets across the counter. You take them eagerly, while Eddie grabs your free hand, allowing you to lead him through the spacious room. He lets you pull him along like a lovesick puppy, totally content to follow you wherever you go.

At the concession stand, he fishes a wrinkled coupon out of his jacket pocket. Fanning himself with the crumpled paper dramatically, he says, “Got a voucher for free candy. You get whatever you want, sweetheart.”

Your mouth falls open, and you look up at him with wide eyes. “You are sweeping me off my feet right now,” you exclaim giddily.

He shrugs nonchalantly. “I aim to please.”

You make your way to the assigned theater armed with popcorn, your free Raisinets, and a large coke for the two of you to share. Eddie’s not even fully seated in his rickety chair before he starts tossing buttery kernels into his mouth. A few fly astray and land on the floor.

“Careful,” you chide him gently.

He responds by picking up another piece and flicking it directly into your face.

“Hey!”

Eddie leans in abruptly, face suddenly inches from yours. He stares at you intensely, the seconds ticking by, then closes the distance by sealing his lips to yours in a sweet kiss.

When he pulls back he’s grinning brightly at you, while you’re rendered speechless. He wraps his arm around your shoulder again, pulling you as closely to him as he can manage with the armrest in the way.

The house lights dim, then shut off, shrouding the room in darkness before the projector kicks on. Eddie watches the opening sequence of the film with interest, but you watch him instead.

Hesitantly, you turn to whisper in his ear. “Hey, Eddie?”

“Yeah?” His dark eyes glint in the light of the silver screen.

“I just wanted to say…I know we haven’t been dating that long, but I really like being with you. Thank you for taking me out tonight.”

Eddie blinks in surprise. His cheeks feel hot — now it’s his turn to be flustered. “O-oh. I do too. Like being with you, I mean.” He frowns uncertainly, gesturing towards the movie. “I mean, I know it’s not dinner at Enzo’s…” he trails off, unsure how to finish voicing his insecurity.

You wave him off before he has time to worry again. “Eddie, you could take me somewhere to watch paint dry and I’d still have fun because I’d be doing it with you.”

The corners of his lips turn up in a shy smile. “Really?”

“Of course.”

Eddie kisses you again, deliberate and slow, one hand lightly cupping your jaw. His lips move against yours when he whispers, “Happy Valentine’s Day, baby.”

“I forgot how Canadian they are in that movie,” Eddie snorts.

With the film over, you and Eddie slowly plod back out towards the lobby, thoroughly stuffed on popcorn and candy and Coca-Cola.

“Yeah,” you reply absentmindedly, suddenly much more focused on the selection of arcade games that are tucked away in the corner. “Hey.” You nudge him gently. “I bet I could kick your ass at air hockey.”

Eddie grins wolfishly at you, immediately game. “Oh, sweetheart, you wish.”

Both of you take your stances at either end of the table, Eddie fishing around in his pocket for spare change. He slots a quarter into the machine and the board hums to life; what follows is arguably one of the most zealous games of air hockey the Hawkins Cinema has ever seen, both of you slamming the puck back and forth across the table with so much vigor that, more than once, it flies off the table completely and arcs an impressive distance across the lobby.

And as it turns out, you don’t need to wish for anything at all: you beat Eddie twice in a row, and quite gleefully. He tries to shake off his annoyance.

“You’re being too aggressive,” you tell him sagely. “That’s why you keep bouncing it back into the goal on accident.”

“I’ve never cared for sports,” he says dismissively, tossing his striker back on the now-still table, as though he’s not upset about losing.

“Someone’s got a case of sour grapes,” you tease him in a sing-song voice.

“I do not.” He pouts.

You pat his back sympathetically. “It’s okay. We can’t all be winners.”

“Alright, alright. Enough about my athletic ineptitude,” he laughs, poking you in the cheek. He nods over to the claw machine wedged between Pac-Man and Frogger. “Instead of spending my last quarter so you can get three-for-three on air hockey, how ‘bout I try and win you something instead?”

You clasp your hands together and hold them under your chin, batting your eyelashes. “Please do.”

He winks at you, and sidles on over, eyeing the miscellaneous goods piled up in the glass box. There are various toys, stuffed animals, small trinkets enclosed in bubbly-looking plastic containers. “This is my last quarter, you know. A lot riding on this.”

You shrug. “If you can’t get me a prize, we’ll have to break up.”

“Ouch! You’re a cold, cold woman, you know that?”

Eddie’s about to use his last coin, when he thinks better of it. Instead, before the machine eats it forever, he holds the quarter out to you in his palm, and with a deadly-serious expression says, “Blow on this for me.”

You blink at him. “What?”

He sighs with mock-impatience. “For good luck. C’mon, every gamblin’ man knows that.”

“Oh.”

You blow on the quarter, and Eddie finally starts up his game. The pink tip of his tongue pokes out from between his lips, and his brow is deeply furrowed — the picture of concentration. He wields the control stick like it’s a deadly weapon, with the utmost care and precision. He’s aiming for a small teddy bear in the back left corner, perched precariously on the mountain of toys, but angled in such a way he thinks he might be able to nab it.

He makes his last minute adjustments, then triumphantly slaps his hand down on the button, heavy rings clacking against the plastic.

The claw sinks down, steely fingers outstretched, and…misses the bear by inches, instead plowing deeper through empty space, and then enclosing around one of the smaller hidden prizes below.

“You got it!” Your voice is excited; you grasp his shoulder and hop and down in victory as the claw rises again, veering towards the drop-bucket.

“Yeah, but that’s not I wanted,” he grumbles dejectedly. “What is this shit?”

There’s a soft plunk! as the secret object hits the metal chute, and Eddie quickly opens the flap to snatch his prize. It’s a round, plastic container with a pink lid, small enough to fit in your palm; not unlike something you might find in a gumball machine. The plastic is frosted, so you can’t quite make out what’s inside.

“Can I open it?”

Eddie chuckles. “Well, I got it for you, didn’t I? Sorry for winning trash. I was aiming for the bear,” he hooks a thumb back towards the stuffed teddy, still trapped inside his glass enclosure.

You ignore the little jibe towards your prize, and pop the lid open. Inside is a little plastic ring; fake silver, with a pasted-on rhinestone in place of a diamond.

Your lips curl up into an involuntary smile as you examine the ring with joy; you love it. Eddie watches you play with the jewelry, mightily endeared.

“I guess that’s not too bad, huh?”

“Eddie,” you put a hand on his chest, “you could not have won me something better. Thank you for spending your last quarter on me. I’m the luckiest girl in the world, I swear.”

Eddie takes the ring from you, and holds your hand with the other. “May I?” he asks.

You bow your head. “Of course.”

Eddie’s about to slip the ring onto your right index finger, then hesitates. “Actually…I think it may look better over here.”

He switches to your other hand, and slides it onto the ring finger — it’s a bit loose, but you wouldn’t want to wear it any other way.

Your eyes are wide, sparkling as you beam at him. “I love it. It’s perfect.”

“It won’t be the last ring I put on you, sweetheart.”

Eddie Munson makes good on his promises. Three years to the day, in the exact same container, he gave you another ring just like your old one — except this time it had a real band, with a real jewel, and he did it on bended knee.

Happy Valentine's Day darlings!! thank you for reading!! xoxo Valentine's Day Special Masterlist

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson reader insert #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader

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marcsburnerphone · 3 months

Text

And they were roommates

(Captain John price x F!reader)

Summary: the captain wants somewhere more homely to settle down and when an offer like yours comes alight on Zillow he must take up on it.

Warnings: nightmares, awko moments, kissing?

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5 - part 6!!!!! -part 7

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The next morning when John woke up it was as if his life had changed filters, like if he went from dramatic cool to dramatic warm. There was a small pep in his step as he got out of bed. You were usually always asleep before 9AM so he decided he’d go buy the two of you breakfast from this small cafe you like not too far down the road, he knew when he was younger there was nothing like a good breakfast after a night of drinking.

On the other hand when you woke up you thought you’d dreamt it, the kiss couldn’t have been real. You’d never be that bold. But the nervous jitter in your belly at the thought of leaving your room was telling you all you needed to know. Along with the smile that’s been plastered on your face since the sound of your rattling windows from the heavy breeze woke you up.

Thankfully no hangover so therefore life’s great. You did desperately want to shower though after waking up in the same clothes you went out in. Which also meant it was going to have to be laundry day.

When he got back he picked up on the sound of your shower running and the steam that escaped beneath the door. He set the food in the kitchen unpacking what was his and yours, placing it in your usual seats at the table.

After a long shower filled with music and wasted water you dressed into comfortable home clothes, basically pajamas. Gathering the sheets and blankets from your

bed in a bear hug you begin to make your way to the laundry room, when you get there you drop everything on the floor with a huff.

“Doll?” John says from down the hallway as the sound of his footsteps grow closer

“Hey, goodmorning.” Shit shit shit.

“Morning, I got breakfast if you’re hungry.” He notices the way you slightly stiffen and how you don’t look back to greet him.

“Yeah actually, Thankyou.” Back to your shy nature he presumes, except he’s seemingly stepped out of his. There’s nothing John Price loves more than being on the same page as someone and if he’s assured of anything it is that you feel the same way he does.

“Okay, it’s on the table. I’ll eat when you do.” He says, walking away.

You let out a sigh of relief when he left, smiling to yourself at the girlish feelings so alive in you. When you finally made it to the kitchen you saw his silhouette outside. Even in the harsh weather he stood with a beanie and jacket on, lit cigar between his lips.

You give two knocks on the kitchen window catching his attention. When he notices you he snuffs the cigar into the small ashtray you bought for him and heads inside.

“You’re crazy for standing out there.” You say softly as you notice the effort it takes him to slide the door shut.

“I’ve done crazier.” He remarks.

You sit on the table as he does the same. You get that familiar warm feeling in your cheeks when you realize he got your exact order. Maybe it’s from the million times you’ve phone ordered it, regardless it’s sweet.

“So.” You say trying to see if he’ll be the one to bring it up.

“So?” He says with a smirk taking a sip of his coffee.

“So, I kissed you last night.” You have to talk about it, you could never be the one to just let it be.

“Did you?” He smirks.

“I did, and I want to know if that was okay with you or if I misread the room.” He laughs a little wondering if maybe he’s too subtle.

“No misreading was done love, next time I’d just appreciate a proper one.” The blush on your face gives him even more confidence.

“Well for your information I intended on giving you an actual kiss but my coordination had been slightly off.” You laugh as you say it cause although it’s embarrassing it’s very true.

“Well doll, there’ll be more opportunities I’m sure of it.”

“Oh Okay.” Lord save you.

“Besides your rendezvous, I wanted to know if I could have some pals over tomorrow. We have some work to do and I’m not quite keen on going to base.”

“Of course.”

—————

That night you decide to cook dinner, it’s only fair since he bought breakfast. You both agreed on pasta since you have all the ingredients for it. Although you told John you could cook alone he insisted he’d help as it’s the nice thing to do but truthfully he just wanted to be around you.

“So you grew up not too far from here?” He asks as you dice garlic.

“Yeah about an hour away.” You have your hair pulled back and are constantly moving the stray pieces from your face.

“Do you ever visit home?”

“Hah absolutely not, stay as far away from it as possible.” He doesn’t question it further but doesn’t miss the tone in your voice when you speak of it.

“I hear you talk to your sister a lot, are you close?” He loves hearing you talk, loves getting to know you even more.

“Yeah, she’s my best friend.” You smile, reminding yourself to call her and update her on these past two days.

“What about you, any siblings?” You ask looking over to him seeing that he’s done chopping the tomatoes and now just leans against the counter.

“No, only child.”

“Really? I wouldn’t have guessed. You're very selfless.” It’s nice to hear from you. You’re the only thing he can imagine being selfish about.

“Years of being in the military will do that to you.”

He takes the pasta off the burner and drains it through the strainer. When he puts the empty pot back onto the burner you begin on the sauce.

“Will the same people I met when you first moved in be the ones coming?”

“Yeah.” He says while setting placemats and cutlery on the table.

You’re content in the low hum of radio music that fills in the silence amongst you two. He still stands near you but no words are being said. He watches the way you precisely add different ingredients one by one. When you're done you serve onto the plates for both of you.

“Thank You doll.”

“It was a team effort so thankyou.” You offer him a small smile before you both begin to eat. Conversation flows nicely between bites. He makes you laugh over dumb stories from his time in the military and you tell him embarrassing stories that happened in middle school. He feels normal, like a human when he’s around you. Like his hands are clean of all the violence he’s committed in his life.

When dinner is over you tackle the dishes together, you wash, he dries and puts away till there’s no more.

“Well I’ll see you Tomorrow then.” You say washing your hands and drying them on the kitchen towel.

“Goodnight love.” Before you can get the chance to turn down the hall to your room he’s calling out to you.

“Yeah?” He makes his way towards you and it’s slightly intimidating till he reaches you, positioning a gentle and slightly rough hand on your cheek before placing a long proper kiss to your lips. It’s electric now that you’re fully sober. Warm yet slightly needy. He pulls away and places one more on the corner of your lips like you had his.

“That’s a proper kiss doll.” He jests.

“I can definitely tell the difference.” He laughs a little, swiping a stray hair behind your ear.

“Sleep well.” He adds before heading back down the hall.

—————-

“And we kissed again last night too.” You talk into the phone while kicking your feet under the covers as you still lay in bed awake earlier than usual.

“You didn’t.” She couldn’t be happier for you. You worried her sometimes, she knew you never were outwardly going to look for someone new and since she lived so far away she couldn’t just check up on you when she wanted so she smiles widely as you tell her about your escapades.

“We did, I really like him, you know.” You really really do.

“I’m so happy for you.” She laughs but before you can respond there’s a knock at your door.

“Hold on, come in.” You slightly yell out. John opens the door taking notice of the phone by your ear.

“Sorry doll, I wanted to come tell you that my mates will be here soon, just a heads up.” You smile, giving him a thumbs up with your free hand.

If life loved John as much as he wished he’d be lying next to you by now. Instead he smiles at you with a wink and closes the door.

“That was him, did you hear him?” You laugh.

“If the voice matches the man, my sister you are lucky, not as lucky as him though, don’t forget that.”

You talk for a while longer before letting her get back to her busy life. When you get out of bed you hear deep voices enter your home traveling to where you assume would be John’s office.

You change into a simple outfit, certainly nothing extravagant, but also not pajamas. On your way to the kitchen you turn the heater on so it can warm up before it gets colder outside. You search the fridge wondering what to eat for breakfast and decide on eggs and toast.

—

“Captain, do you have a water bottle I can grab?” Gaz asks, they’re doing a lot of talking and debriefing on their last mission filing the paperwork they’ve all avoided.

“Em yeah in the fridge on the door.” The captain dismisses him trying to type in certain coordinates.

“Grab us one too.” The two other men say as Gaz gets up and leaves. When he makes it to the kitchen he notices you but doesn’t know what to say.

“Hello ma’am.” That’s all he could come up with.

“Jesus good god, hello gaz.” You jump in surprise at the unfamiliar yet not complete stranger.

“Sorry sorry.” You wave him off as he apologizes.

“I think I get startled too easily.” You laugh and he smiles.

“Just came to grab water.” He says motioning forward to your fridge.

“Yeah no problem.”

“You have a stunning kitchen by the way, really like the white cabinets.” He compliments.

“Really, when my ex and I got the house I had the old ones which were a grayish color removed and put these ones in, he hated it.” You laugh at the memory.

“A man with no taste. These are lovely and this lighting, it’s really beautiful.” You thank him again and go into mindless conversation about other remodeling projects you had done, he had questions after everything you said and lost track of time.

—

“Gaz, where were you when the explosion happened?” Price questions and looks up after a minute when there’s no response.

“He hasn’t come back yet, captain.” Soap says with a small grin. “I think he’s chatting it up with the lass out there.”

Their captain gets out of his chair. Silently leaving the room to go see what his sergeant is up to. As he approaches the kitchen he hears you laughing and relaxes his tense features before walking into the kitchen.

“So these used to be granite tiles till I changed them to white ones.” You say pointing at the backsplash above the counter.

“You could be an interior designer.” Gaz remarks and you smile.

“Sergeant, where should you be?” John uses the voice of a captain, one you're not very familiar with.

Both of you turn to look at him and you start to defend him.

“Sorry John, I kept him here, that’s my fault.” You say looking at him apologetically. He wants to tell you to stop making those eyes at him because they make him soft, too soft.

“Sergeant back to work.” He says as gaz bids you a smile and mouths Thank You, he quietly passes John to get back to his office.

“Is that your scary man voice?” You ask him with a small smirk.

“It can be a lot scarier.”

“I like it.” He’s weak for you, physically and emotionally this man craves you in ways that are impossible to comprehend.

“Careful.” Is all he says before walking away. He leans against the wall by his office out of view from anyone quickly adjusting his pants like a boy in puberty before getting back to work.

——

By the time they're done it’s nearly midnight. You're laying on the couch watching a movie when you hear the heavy footsteps of the men reach the kitchen and John’s in particular make their way to you.

“You’re still up?” He asks, looming over the back of the couch.

“Can’t sleep.”

“The winds are heavy and it’s a little late. I was wondering if they could stay the night? They’ll sleep in my room. If not doll please don’t be hesitant to let me know.” He asks quietly.

“Yeah that’s fine, where will you sleep?” You smile softly at him and his tired eyes.

“Out here.” You nod letting him know it’s okay before he leaves for a second to tell them. They all Thank You as you get up to grab extra blankets from your closet.

You bring them to John’s rooms seeing them all figuring out where and how they’re going to sleep. You ask John if you could talk to him real quick in the hallway and he quickly excuses himself.

“John, those men are too grown to sleep on the floor and to share a bed.” You quietly exclaim.

“Doll, I can assure you they’ve slept worse.”

“Men, you don’t see the issue. They’re not at work though this is their time to get good sleep.”

“Well I don’t have much more to offer.”

“One of them can sleep in my room, one on the air mattress and one of them can sleep on your bed.” He looks at you slightly confused.

“Where will you sleep?”

“With whoever sleeps in my bed.” He looks at you like you're crazy and is about to very loudly protest. “I'm kidding, we can share the couch I only need like one cushion to sleep on.” It’s true you sleep like a Rollie Pollie.

“Fine.” He doesn’t object to the idea at all which you're slightly surprised about and walks back into his room to tell them. Gaz is the one that gets sent out to you and you take him to your room.

“Here’s the remote, I’m sorry about all the pillows but the sheets are clean and the bathroom is right across the hall.” You smile at him and he thanks you for saving him from the hardwood floors. You laugh and take your favorite pillow, you say your goodnight and head to the living room.

“You didn’t have to do that, you know.” John says as you walk to the opposite side of the couch.

“I know.” You say settling into your usual spot. John throws one of the blankets you gave to him for the boys over you. At this point you're so tired you lay on your side letting whatever action movie John put on lull you to sleep.

You wake up suddenly sometime during the night the tv now off making it hard to see. You hear John murmuring things in his sleep getting louder by the second. You sit up tapping his arm to wake him and realize how warm he is. You reach to turn on the lamp beside the couch so you could actually see. Sweat begins to form on his brow line as his hands shake at his sides.

“John.” You whisper quietly, shaking his arm. He doesn’t wake so you do it again a little rougher. Still nothing.

“John.” You said a bit louder, finally waking him. His wide eyes look around as his left hand reaches to grip the hand you had on his arm.

“Doll?” He says squinting his eyes at you while trying to catch his breath.

“Yeah I’m here.” He continues to breathe roughly as you sit there. The way he refuses to meet your eyes makes you want to cry. He looks distressed and worn down.

“Bad dream.” He whispers gruffly.

You don’t need words to comfort him. You slide down the couch to lay opposite of how you had been before and place your head on his chest. He lifts his arm from beneath you and drapes it over your mid back. You listen intently to the rapid beat of his heart waiting for it to slow. After a while it does as his breath evens out. After a bit you drift back into sleep.

----------

thankyou for reading <3

comments and reposts are always appreciated.

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#captain price x female reader #john price #barry sloane #captain john price #john price x reader #task force 141 #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #angst #cod x reader #cod mwii #cod modern warfare #cod mw2

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navybrat817 · 10 months

Text

Where We Left Off

Pairing: Best Friend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: You're in love with your best friend who is determined to make the most of your vacation together. Word Count: Over 1.2k Warnings: Light angst, friends reconnecting, unrequited feelings (or so you think), slight feels (it's me), future fun, Bucky Barnes (yep, he's a warning) A/N: New AU called Reconnect because why not? Meet Dreamboat and Butterfly. For @the-slumberparty 's June's Monthly Challenge : Bikini and Beach, and Smut Hub Summer Camp Bingo @sagechanoafterdark: Choose Your Vibes: Summer. Thank you @flordeamatista for the inspiration and pre-reading! ❤️ Any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

It was a couple of summers ago when you realized you were in love with Bucky Barnes. When you looked back on your friendship, you wondered how it took you so long to realize it. Like how his smile made your heart race whenever he looked your way. Or how you found a solid ground and safe space together, each of you able to confide in the other.

He made you feel safe.

"You're my best friend."

Nothing more.

You stared out the living room window with a sigh, the beach house blanketed by the heavy sound of rain. While it had been bright and sunny just minutes ago, the sky was now dark and misty. You shivered as you wrapped your towel tighter around your wet body, enchanted by the summer storm instead of going to your room to change. It figured you'd buy a new swimsuit for the trip and only get to wear it outside for a minute.

"So much for lounging on the beach."

You smiled softly as you glanced at Bucky beside you, who ran a hand through his long, soaked hair. He hadn't bothered to keep his towel after the two of you rushed back inside, clad in just his blue trunks that matched the shade of his eyes. You scolded yourself for letting your gaze roam along his sun kissed, muscular body.

You didn't have the right to look at him that way.

"Yeah. So much for that," you said, the towel doing little to keep you warm as the air conditioner kicked on. "Maybe our punishment for getting started without everyone?"

Steve, another one of Bucky's best friends, put together a weeklong trip for the gang. So far, you and Bucky were the only two at the beach house. Everyone else wasn't going to be there until the evening. That was why you went for an immediate swim once you picked your room. The storm would likely put the group behind even more and now you were stuck inside with Bucky.

Why had you agreed to show up early?

Why did you have to be alone with him?

Why do I have to love him?

"Maybe," he said with a stretch, drawing attention to his wide chest. "Since it doesn't look like it's slowing down at all, why don't we cuddle on the couch? Catch up a bit?"

"Cuddle?" you scoffed, the sound more bitter than you intended as you turned to face him. "Why would we do that?"

A flicker of hurt passed over his eyes before he blinked it away. "Well, for one, you're cold. I can practically hear your teeth chattering," he replied. He wasn't a fan of being cold either, but he always ran warm. "And two, cuddling never bothered you before."

Your stomach flip-flopped. Bucky was right. He was the only male friend you ever snuggled with. Whenever you had a bad day, he didn't hesitate to throw a heavy arm around you and pull you against his chest. On good days, he found an excuse to keep you plastered by his side. He used to do it so often that most people assumed you were dating.

Wishful thinking.

"I'm sorry," you said, giving him the nicest smile you could manage even though it hurt to do so. "Been awhile since it was just the two of us and even longer than that since we cuddled."

The day it clicked that you saw Bucky as more than a friend was the day he introduced you to Dolores. Everyone called her Dot. The beautiful redhead looked good on his arm and you wondered why it wasn't you in her place. But you put on a brave face and smiled, even as your heart shattered. Because Bucky's happiness meant more than your feelings.

It didn't stop you from crying alone in the darkness where no one else could see.

"That's my fault," he whispered, sliding his fingers into his hair again and tugging harshly on the strands. You noticed he did that when he was upset. "And I'm sorry."

"Friendship goes both ways," you pointed out.

"You never faded out of my life when you dated anyone."

They weren't you, Bucky.

"I guess she was different," you smiled sadly.

The two of you still hung out and messaged each other while he dated Dot, but it was always as a group and the daily messages dwindled to chats here and there. You had the feeling that Dot didn't like you very much. In a way, you didn't fault her for that. Maybe she saw through you and knew you wanted Bucky.

Yet he was the one who broke up with her.

"You're allowed to be mad at me," he said as he took your hand and crossed the room to the couch. "I'd be mad at me."

"Right now, I'm just cold," you said, not wanting to dwell on the past. What good would it do?

He nodded slowly, almost like he was disappointed in your response. "Okay."

You shrieked when he pulled the towel away. It wasn't like he hadn't seen you minutes before in your bikini and you swore his gaze lingered on you long enough to consider it staring, but what was he doing? "What the hell?" you asked, but made no move to cover yourself.

Maybe I want him to see that I'm desirable.

Bucky let out a breath as he looked at you, your shivering having nothing to do with the cold. "You said you were cold, so let me warm you up," he urged, grabbing a blanket from the back of the couch before he took a seat. "Please?"

Silence fell over you as you sat down beside him. He wasted no time putting the blanket over you and wrapping his arms around your shaking frame. You breathed in his familiar scent and found yourself fighting off tears, a bittersweet swirl of longing and comfort settling in your chest.

Because he embraced you as if you meant something to him.

"I missed you," he whispered, running a hand along your back.

Your heart clenched, focusing on the rain falling outside in a melancholy rhythm. "I missed you, too."

"But we have each other again."

"I wish that were true," you whispered.

Why did I say that?

His hand stilled, but you were too afraid to look at him. "What do you mean?" he asked.

Panic bubbled in your chest. You couldn't just blurt out your feelings like this. "I just mean you went from a constant to a fleeting moment in my life," you said, which was the truth. "I don't want things to fizzle after we leave."

Bucky used to be the brightest star in your sky. Then he became the shooting star you missed making a wish upon. But you would forever watch the sky if only to get a glimpse of his bright light.

"I'll make it up to you. I have this whole week to start," he promised, rubbing his chin along the top of your head. "I don't care what Steve has planned. I'm all yours."

You squeezed your eyes shut because you knew you'd cry if you didn't. He wasn't yours. Not really.

"I'm yours, too, Bucky."

I always will be.

Surely Bucky will sweep us off our feet, right? Love and thanks! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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momolady · 3 months

Text

Art the Orc

If you live in a small town, maybe you'll know this place. It's a little art store run by the same family for ages. It's not changed in all that time either. Picture it, feel it, you know it's the only place that sells that one supply you like. Now, imagine an orc behind the counter. Female Reader x Male Monster

The visage of the old place looked like it had once been a gas station. There was one of those big metal awnings and signs that gas pumps had once been outside. But everything else looked like the art supply store it was. The window was painted, done up with flowers and a flourishing font, but it hadn’t been touched in ages and was chipping and weathering away.

The old place had seen better days, you could tell. But you were excited to tackle such a special project with your own two hands.

Inside the place had a familiar smell of paint thinner, book pages, and coffee. You looked around the front as the bells on the door chimed. The old floor had seen better days and was worn out where you stood, even the welcome mat was hard to read.

“Welcome to Greengold Creative Station,” the deep voice came from behind the front desk where there was an open door. ‘I’ll be out with you in just a moment.”

“Take your time,” you replied. You continued to look around, noting the mismatched shelving and thrown together renovations dotting the place.

A moment later, a large orc came from the back. He was wearing thick glasses and had on a corded cardigan that covered a paint splattered t-shirt.

“Can I help you find anything?” He asked as he adjusted his glasses.

You approached the front desk again, extending your hand to him. “Hi! You must be Mr. Greengold, I’m from Regency Renovations.”

There was a surprised look upon his face as he shook your hand. “You’re the renovator?”

You smiled, half expecting some reservation based on your appearance. “I specialize in business and storefront renovations. That is what you wanted, correct, Mr. Greengold?”

He fumbled with his words for a moment, stuttering, touching his glasses until he spoke. “Call me Art, please.”

You held it in, but he knew where your mind went.

“It’s short for Arthur, but it's also my dad’s name so my mom calls me Art. Yes, I know, ha ha, very fun. A man named Art runs the art store.”

“It’s an easy target.” You tried to squash your giggling but a few came out.

He sighed and shook his head. “So, you’ll be handling the whole store. I want it updated completely. It was fine for my parents, but I need to bring in a new generation of artists and online shopping is destroying us.”

“It’s a common issue, Art,” you didn’t look at him as you said his name. “I already have some ideas brewing and I would be happy to discuss your thoughts for the business with you.”

He sighed heavily, gazing out at a store that was once his family’s legacy. “I would say I would like to keep some of what my parents did to this place, but I don’t think any of it is salvageable.”

“Well recycling is a thing.” You replied. “Like some of these old shelves, the wood can be reused to create a rustic facade for the front desk here.” You patted the worn out formica top. “And the vintage signage out from can be reused and framed, hung just right behind you there.”

Art made a face. “You can do all that.”

You returned his face, adding a smug smile to it. “I can do lots of things, Art. My father was a carpenter and my mother was a viper. Be careful of what you inflict about me.” You patted your chest proudly. You knew you were small and chubby, not many people expected much out of you, but your work spoke for itself. And that was how you told people off.

“Sorry,” he sighed. “I have a lot riding on this so-”

“So you hired the best. That I can promise you. Now I know you said you didn’t have a lot of funds, but I already have my plans made for how to help you with that. I plan on doing most of the work on my own, but for heavy lifting and other things-”

“I don’t mind helping with that,” he said with a shake of his head.

You had planned to bring in your brother for help, he enjoyed the destruction part of your job and he worked for free food. “Well uh…if you’d like Art, I wouldn’t say no.”

“I wouldn’t want you getting hurt on the job. It would be best if I helped out,” he said.

You couldn’t tell if he was being kind or underestimating you again, so you brushed it off and continued. “I would also like to film the process of the renovation. Stuff like that will help reach your new audience.”

He frowned, and his thick brows pinched together. “You must be joking.”

“I am not. You’d be surprised what the kids these days are watching.” You smirked up at him. “I know what I am doing, Art. Have some faith.”

His face read: easier said than done.

Discussion and planning was always the hard bit. You had to convince your employer of what needed to be done. Art was hesitant about some things, after all it was a family business and a place he had grown up in. But for the most part he was willing to go along with some of your ideas.

Art started the clean up process by first putting away his stock and setting most of the mismatched shelves outside. Once that was taken care of you began ripping up the old carpet and ancient linoleum.

“I remember when my dad put that stuff down,” Art said from behind you.

You looked up, eyes covered by goggles and mouth surrounded by one of those thick industrial masks. “Oh really?”

Art gave you a look. “Is all that necessary?”

“You’d be surprised.” You stacked another chunk of the linoleum to the side. “Lots of debris and who-knows-what is under these old floors. Decades of dirty shoes, dust, skin, and life are stored here.”

Art’s grimace deepened. “Skin?”

“Oh yeah, we shed like mad,” you laughed. “If you have dust in your house you can be assured it came from you!”

Art looked perturbed by this revelation but he continued in moving stock to the back and other store property outside.

Once the flooring was removed, you accessed what was underneath. It wasn’t marble or granite, but it was some type of stony tile that had existed when it was a gas station.

“Mom said it was inhospitable.”

You used a dust cloth to clean off a bit of the flooring. “But it’s easy to clean, and it’ll make the whole place appear brighter and bigger.” You turned and looked back at him, taking off the goggles. “It’ll be so much better in the long run. Plus! You won’t have to buy anything new except maybe a rug or two if you wanted.”

Art’s pinched brow was becoming the norm to see, but you could tell it was because the gears behind it were working so hard to process everything going on.

Once the tiles were cleaned and all the old flooring was hauled off to the dump, you started working on the walls, taking down slapdash shelving, and anything else hanging up. The old paint job, or jobs really, were layered on so thick and hadn’t been properly done. They had painted over the trim and electrical outlets, all of which needed to be replaced. The holes in the walls needed fixing too, and there were a few dents and scrapes from the years.

“You’re not hiring a painter?” Art asked one day.

You zipped up your coveralls and turned around to face him. “Not unless you want to shell out twice the money. Besides, I’m a good painter. A great painter even! Maybe not Rembrandt or anything, but I can handle a roller better than most.”

Art looked over your paint supplies. After days of you working on freeing the electric sockets and scraping the excess from the trim you could finally start working. You were painting the wall white, but you had found cheap sticker tiles to create a great accent wall, which could then be used for photo opportunities and special displays. Then another wall would also be painted white and used to display local artists and projects from the art class that Art taught.

“Mom always wanted to put wallpaper up,” Art murmured. “But said it wouldn’t be practical with everything we needed to hang up.”

There was a melancholy to Art’s face and tone as he said this. “What kind?” You asked as you poured your paint into the tray. “We could always find something close to what she had in mind for the office.”

Art glanced over his shoulder then shook his head. “I doubt I could afford it. I tried looking already.”

You put the roller into the paint, sliding it back and forth until it wasn’t too soupy. “Was this place your mom’s idea?”

“Yeah,” he murmured, his gaze going all about the store. “I can’t believe how empty it is now.”

“It’ll be full again in no time.” You gave him a reassuring smile when his amber eyes returned to you. “Do you have any pictures of your mother you would want to hang up?” you asked. “I can plan a special place for it.”

He huffed, seeming put off by this suggestion. “Excuse me. The smell of this paint is giving me a headache.” He walked off, stomping his feet a little as he went.

Art came back by the time you were finished with the first coat of white. You were sitting in front of the checkout desk, leaned back against it so your foot propped the door open. He stepped over your leg and looked at your work.

“The white really makes this place look…different,” he murmured.

“Don’t worry, there will be some color back soon enough,” you sighed. “Is your headache gone?”

Art nodded, leaning against the desk. “Sorry if I’ve been…obstinate.”

You waved it off. “I’m used to you.”

He shook his head. “No. I’ve been questioning and judging everything, all because I never really wanted to do this.”

You tilted your head up to look at him. “Then why are you?”

He let out that heavy, burdened sigh again. “Because it was in her will.”

You clicked your tongue. “Oh.”

“She left me money, but only if I used a portion of it to renovate the old store. She said it was mine after all, it deserved to reflect the new generation. Even in death she was still hinting I get married.” He scoffed at this, but he still had a smile on his face.

“Sounds pretty motherly.” You stood up from the ground, standing beside him. Not feeling much taller than you did sitting beside his great size. You motioned to the front window. “Did she paint that?”

Art laughed. “No. I did. That’s why she kept it so long.”

Your smile beamed. “Really? That’s pretty adorable.”

He shook his head and rolled his eyes. “For years upon years I’ve looked at that painting and wished every day she would wash it off and do something different. But I suppose her sentimentality was far too deep for that.”

“It’s a good painting,” you offered.

“I never thought she’d keep it so I barely tried,” he grunted and crossed his arms against his chest. “Boy, was I wrong.”

“Would you like to paint the new display? I was planning on just hanging a new sign and leaving the window clean.”

“I don’t know,” he muttered.

You patted his arm, and his eyes darted down to your hand, his brows unpinching for that one moment.

“I’ll wait till you decide then.” You stepped away from him, but his eyes still lingered on where you had touched him.

A few days later, as you were working on putting the sticker tile onto the wall, Art came from the back and offered you a ticket.

“A friend of mine has a gallery showing tonight. He gave me two tickets so I thought-” He hesitated and cleared his throat.

“How fancy is the affair?” You asked.

“Nothing too fancy. I mean, dress up, but not like black tie event or anything.” He cleared his throat again. “I was going to get dinner at my favorite restaurant since it was close by if you wanted to come.”

It clicked and you looked up at him. Your cheeks flushed and your mouth started to go dry. “Oh. Sure.” You tucked your hair behind your ear. “If that’s the case, maybe we should go in together. You know? Save the earth and stuff.”

He nodded. “Yeah. Smart idea. How about I pick you up tonight. Say…around six? Since the gallery is at eight?”

You nodded, biting down on your lip. “Yeah. Perfect. That should give me enough time to get ready after work.”

Art turned awkwardly away then back towards you. “Oh I uh, I guess I should get your address.” You traded info and the rest of the day went by in a jerky, tense sort of way.

That evening you waited in your living room until you heard from Art. You were wearing your favorite dress, and had even gotten your next door neighbor to do your makeup. You got his message and went downstairs to meet him at the front door.

Art was dressed nice in a dark purple suit and he had his long hair slicked back and tied into a bun. He didn’t have on his glasses, which surprised you. His eyes lit up when he saw you.

“Wow, you look great!” He said, a touch breathless.

You blushed and smiled. “Thanks. You look pretty great too. I’m not used to seeing you without your glasses.”

“Yeah, contacts tonight,” he said shyly. He then took your hand and led you to his car.

The restaurant was nice, the two of you had a clumsy start to it, but eventually you both started having an in depth conversation about color. From there, you both laughed and joked around, having a good time with great food and even better wine.

From there you walked to the gallery, meeting his friend then roaming through the show. Her artwork was lovely, but you noticed Art’s pinch brow had returned.

“A lot more nudes than I expected,” he whispered.

“I think it’s nice,” you replied. “I can see what her intent with the motif is. How it’s classic, it's natural, but also subversive.” You turned to Art, noticing him fidgeting and adjusting himself.

“Yes. I understand what she is doing,” he muttered. “I must have had just a little too much wine I think.”

You smiled at him, chuckling as your cheeks grew warm.

The car windows were fogged over, and in the dark all you could do was touch. His kisses felt rough but intimate. His tusks brushed against your skin, making your shiver. Every so often the darkness was halted by the motion light of the parking lot turning on. You’d still for a moment, then continue on with your youthful antics.

“We should stop.”

“We should.”

“Why aren’t we?”

“It’s hard.”

“Very hard.”

You kissed Art and breathed, looking into his eyes while you clasped your hands around his face. Maybe it was the wine or the nudes on display, maybe it was weeks of working so close and holding back so long.

“It’s hard.”

“Very hard.”

You smiled at him, kissing him again while his hands moved below. Your panties were pushed aside, his zipper brushed against your thigh. Big. Oh my god it was big!

You gasped softly and he stilled, watching your expression. You eased over him, taking as much of Art as you could stand. You pressed your palms to the roof of the car for balance, his strong hands kneaded into your thick thighs.

“Aren’t we a bit too old for this?” he breathed.

“I guess we’ll find out, won’t we.” Your laughter turned into moaning. Maybe you were both a bit too old for this, but you’d never had so much fun before! He pressed deeply inside you, and his hands couldn’t stop touching your body. He roamed over the soft curves, and plump form, his desire seeming to grow the more he did.

The next morning you came into work, seeing Art standing in the middle of the room. You held your breath, wondering if it was all a wonderful dream. He turned and smiled, his thick glasses back in place.

“Hi” he said breathlessly.

Your smile bloomed. “Hi.”

Art motioned to the desk. “I brought coffee.”

“I see that.” You smiled and took a cup he offered.

He sighed then laughed and you laughed. “So uh…last night.”

“I liked your friend’s gallery. It was very nice. I also liked your favorite restaurant.” You took a sip of the coffee, testing it before you added anything.

Art nodded, his gaze drifted until it fell back onto you. “Is that all?”

You smiled over your coffee cup. “No. Just barely.” You looked into his eyes. “I wasn’t sure if it was an appropriate work topic.”

“Not exactly but uhm…I just wanted to check.” His eyes darted over you. “Were we really too old for that?”

You laughed and cupped your hand over your mouth. “A little. But I’m not too sore. Are you?”

“No. But I would prefer somewhere much comfier next time.” he leaned in close and you closed your eyes, accepting his kiss and the touch of his tusks against your cheeks.

“Yes, it would be nice.” You saw he had paints and brushes set on the front desk. “What’s this for?”

He sucked in a breath through his teeth. “I thought I’d paint the window. I got a bit of inspiration last night.” He grinned your way. “Plus, I think mom would like to see how I’ve improved.”

You grinned. “I’ll be very excited to see how you work. Outside a car at least.”

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