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gamerwoo · 4 years ago

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Seventeen headcanons: seventeen as streamers (hyung line)

a/n: i watched the christmas in summer gose and now i need to make this or i’ll die lmao

maknae line

Seungcheol

this boy can and will rage at every single game he plays

has a set game that he typically plays but sometimes does variety if his friends nag him enough

but he won’t play horror games except one time when he hit a subscriber milestone and he made wonwoo sit in with him but he still got so scared he accidentally turned his stream off but decided to just not turn it back on lmao

he’s one of those dudes that like strictly plays cod or fortnite or overwatch yknow those kinds of streamers. he has one game he always plays and doesnt stray from it too often

but then like 5 of his friends will be in discord spamming him to play minecraft with them

and he still manages to yell because he keeps dying to creepers or soonyoung accidentally set their house on fire

tbh he can get kinda toxic,,,,,,

he’s one of those streamers that’s popular because he rages tho

like jay3

“CHEOL THERES A BUG ON YOU” *cue instant rage*

Jeonghan

he’s one of those male streamers that has a lot of subs bc everybody simps for them

not that he’s not good and/or entertaining, it’s just a lot of people simp for this man

and he knows it and he will openly fish for simps lmao he’s shameless

rages but at a lesser scale than seungcheol

it’s not really raging it’s more just like,,,,,quietly getting tilted lmao

lot’s of sighs and swearing under his breath and “are you serious/kidding me”

can also be toxic

plays whatever’s popular

plays games in cosplays randomly if he gets enough donations or subs or whatever

like playing overwatch in dva cosplay or ddlc in sayori cosplay or whatever

has a channel points thing where he’ll make an onlyfans but it was like an outrageous amount of channel points but somebody managed to redeem it so he ended stream lmao

people still ask him about it and it’s become basically a meme in his chat

Joshua

just ur typical streamer

has a few games he cycles through but will do other stuff with friends at least once a week

he’s a smaller streamer bc he’s just kinda doing it for funsies

not super rage-y but does get angy depending on the game

lots of talking to his chat and lots of meme-ing in games

it’s like 50% tryharding and 50% giggling and making content

probably has a Jarms (joshua arms) emote that a sub made for him lmao

his community may be on the smaller side compared to some of his friends but they’re very loyal and they’re kind and they’re fuckin hilarious

he often gets roasted/meme’d by his audience it’s great

he used to have a thing where if you got enough channel points you could redeem a thing where he’ll duo in a game w cheol and do poorly on purpose to make him angry for content lmao

but cheol found out and got even more angry so he had to get rid of it lmao

Junhui

you wanna know why he has subs?

it’s because he has half a braincell and just happens to get lucky when it comes to games

like with getting over it how he randomly yeeted himself up pretty far

he just accidentally does well and it’s fucking hilarious

he doesn’t need to create content on purpose, it just happens

he’s so wholesome he’s truly a family friendly channel

makes weird noises when he plays lmao

variety streamer but mostly plays with friends and doesn’t often play solo

gets really giggly and lowkey flustered when his chat compliments him

he checks chat often and tries to interact w his audience a lot but there’s a lot of people now lmao

he doesn’t understand how he got so many subs tbh like even he says he doesn’t know what he’s doing and he’s “bad at games” but everyone is like “NO NO YOU’RE DOING AMAZING SWEETIE”

his entire community and even his friends’ communities would protect him at all costs everyone loves jun

Soonyoung

like jun, he has a lot of subs simply because he is: dumb

has shut off his stream on accident multiple times

plays games that don’t require too much skill so basically not a lot of fps stuff where you have to be good to do well

only ever plays with friends so yes he’s a variety streamer

or he’ll play with his subscribers and stuff which he also really enjoys

plays a lot of like minecraft and fall guys and dead by daylight and things like that

stuff where he can be stupid and sometimes get lucky and win or do well lmao

gets excited bc he thinks he did something but his friends are like “bro u just died” lmao

or things where other people can do everything for him (like minecraft)

will play random games people suggest without looking into them so like the amount of times he’s gotten roped into playing horror games and just has a heart attack on stream is insane

but he always finishes whatever game he starts

nobody knows why he decided to become a streamer anyway like wonwoo had to teach this man how to use a computer ok

Wonwoo

yknow how some streamers get popular bc they’re genuinely good or they rage a lot or they’re just positive and nice or they’re funny?

wonwoo’s genuinely good so that’s why people watch him

like seungcheol he plays mostly like fps stuff and things that require mostly skill

but he will play other stuff with his friends

lowkey rages but he tries to not get too angry when he’s streaming

lots of “aaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!” when something bad is happening lmao

takes games really serious and gets competitive

there have been times though where he’s gotten so angry he just got up and left his desk

lots of huffing and there are some outburts of “WHAT!” and stuff like that

and mumbling under his breath

the amount of times he’s had to pause stream to help soonyoung figure his own shit out is far too much

there’s actually a counter for it lmao

Jihoon

despite playing games all the time, he doesn’t stream often because he forgets or doesn’t feel like turning the stream on lmao

so he also has a smaller audience like josh

he doesn’t talk much when he plays

he reads chat but he doesn’t reply much unless he’s like explaining something to someone or giving advice or something

will ban you for a day if you say he’s cute lmao

but his mods started calling him cute too and now his whole chat is just a mess lmao

but he’s started slowly opening up more and more

he’s picky about games he plays so he also has a set of certain games he’ll play

unless he’s really bored and all of his friends are nagging him to play something else with them

claims he hates goofy games but giggles up a storm when they play fall guys simply because “they run funny”

but overall he takes games pretty seriously and does get mad when he’s losing a lot or not doing well

nobody ever knows when he’ll stream again he’ll stream one day and then won’t ever again for like another 2 weeks at 1am out of nowhere

#why was jihoon's kinda hard ????#seventeen #seventeen headcanon #seventeen headcanons #gamer!seventeen #seungcheol #s.coups #jeonghan #joshua #joshua hong #junhui #soonyoung #hoshi #wonwoo #jihoon #lee jihoon #woozi

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docholligay · 4 years ago

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Valentine's prompt: Brigitte and Dva baking together

It shouldn’t have been awkward. Dva was an international star on a number of levels, and had been so since she was fifteen or so. She was known for being cute, for being capable, for being quick on her feet, and confident to a point that bordered on arrogance, in her worst moments. People imagined her as all sorts of things, and she let them, because it paid to be imagined as the perfect girlfriend, as the cool friend, as the great hero of Korea. No one would have imagined that she was nervous to have a girl over to make cookies. People would have laughed at the idea.

And yet, here she was, nervous. Brigitte had never been to her apartment. Dva wasn’t even sure they were officially dating, even though they had gone out plenty of times since Christmas. It wasn’t that she thought they were just friends--there were plenty of activities they’ d participated in that didn’t suggest that--but it wasn’t that she thought they were serious enough to be girlfriends, either.

More surprising to Dva was that she wanted to be.

She kept telling herself that there were a million reasons she hadn’t addressed this particular issue. They were building a whole new Overwatch headquarters, and Dva was helping with the oversight of it, making sure everything was just so. There were new exhibits coming to the recently-refurbished Overwatch Museum of London, to say nothing of the one they planned to revive in America. Dva had been a key part of all these things, taking a bit of the work off Tracer, trying to convince Pharah she could do just as well and trying very hard not to be insulted by Pharah’s insistence that it was Tracer’s work. It meant there was plenty for her to do that wasn’t dating, and so it made perfect sense that she’d never sat down to have any conversation with Brigitte about what they were, exactly.

Did Dva even care about Valentine’s Day? She certainly couldn’t remember caring about Valentine’s Day, but it must have mattered some to her if she had stumbled out asking if Brigitte wanted to come help her make several dozen cookies to give out. She didn’t want to give out cookies, much less make them, she was fairly certain, and yet it had come out of her mouth as Brigitte and Winston stood in front of her discussing the new lab setup.

Winston had smiled after Dva said it, which somehow made it worse.

Her apartment was a great one. She knew that to be true, at least. She hadn’t thought much about anything but location and having a gaming room when she’d bought it with all money she’d saved from living with her parents back home, and the agent had found her a place ten minutes’ walk from two different underground stations, with a Waitrose on the way, across from some gardens that her balcony overlooked. It wasn’t until Tracer’s eyes widened as they walked toward it that she realized entirely the kind of place she owned, a three bedroom apartment that had Tracer running from room to room, asking why she had never gotten into the video game business. Bright, with wood floors and a marble bathroom, she took a certain amount of delight in showing it to people, that she wasn’t some sort of grubby gremlin child but an adult with nice tastes.

Now she was worried it was too nice. Ostentatious? The only person in Overwatch with a bigger place was Winston, and that was a rusty old warehouse he’d spend years scrabbling into a home. Would Brigitte think she was bragging? Brigitte had invited her back to her apartment, a tiny studio that was across from a dumpster rather than a garden, but it was warm and sweet and now Dva worried that her apartment showed she had money but not much else.

Did she have much else? Who was she other than the wunderkind, really, when it got down to it? Mercy had tried to talk to her about it once, having more than a little experience with such, but Dva had shook it away, proud as always. Now she found herself wishing she could ask how to deal with it. She would, once today was over, win or lose. She was in her twenties, but growing up, it seemed, very suddenly, in the light of everything changing. There was no more room to be the talented brat she loved being, if she was honest.

But that realization wasn’t going to save her from whatever happened today with Brigitte.

The buzzer rang. Horrifying, but inevitable, like so many things in military life. She ran over to the monitor and flipped it on, Brigitte’s smile lighting up the camera.

“Hi!” She waved.

Brigitte didn’t seem shocked or offended by Dva’s apartment building, and so Dva simply nodded and attempted a smile back. “Just come up, the door’s open.”

She buzzed Brigitte in and turned around toward the open room. She’d already cleaned ip everything that needed it, and the cookie ingredients were in the fridge and pantry. Dva had bought some sodas and snacks this morning, opening the boxes so it would look casual. Hopefully Brigitte couldn’t tell that she’d never had anyone over to her house, and if she could, well, it was a fair protest that Dva had never really had time in her life to imagine it. That was, until Brigitte joined Overwatch, and all of her friends thought it was cute to torment Dva over the flirting.

Brigitte came through the door and looked around the apartment, the surfeit of natural light and Dva’s simple but sturdy couches and chairs set up in the living room.

“This place is really nice!” She said it with enthusiasm and without judgment, even if Dva studied hard to find it.

“Thanks.” She managed. “Actually, I just told an agent to get me something when I moved here a few years ago...I’m not very good at shopping.”

“I believe that,” Brigitte gave a bright nod, “I remember trying to find you a Christmas sweater for the Oxton party.”

Dva laughed. It had been silly, hadn’t it? The two of flitting from store to store, Dva not knowing exactly what she wanted but knowing that none of this was it. Brigitte had threated to simply throw one of her sweaters on top of her. But they found something, eventually. They’d spent the whole party talking together. It had been what she wanted, after all.

She led Brigitte back toward the small but well appointed kitchen, neat as a pin. Brigitte smiled slyly as she preheated the oven.

“I bet you never use this room, huh?”

Dva smacked her with an embroidered tea towel, but laughed in a way that let Brigitte know she couldn’t be more correct.

It was a wonder, to see Brigitte in the kitchen. She had brought some of her own ingredients, not imagining that Dva would have everything they needed. Brigitte didn’t seem to need much of a recipe, just kept whipping things together until there was a dough in a bowl in front of the two of them, being worked over carefully by Brigitte’s broad, strong hands.

They couldn’t be more different, could they? Brigitte was tall and broad and strong, warm and nurturing and domestic. Dva was small and fine boned, sharp and quick and dangerous, hopeless in the kitchen and barely qualified in even a laundry room. It was odd to imagine that they could ever be together, and the thought made her a bit sad even as she shaped the dough into a disk for the fridge.

But then, she thought, it wasn’t so unusual. Mercy and Pharah may as well have been night and day on all things not related to their shared ethics, and sometimes even that, and you never met a couple so devoted and in love. The things Emily seemed to love best about Tracer were the things they in no way shared--Tracer was loud and gregarious and daring, Emily was quiet and shy and cautious. So what if Brigitte was the one making dinner? Dva would bring her home every pan and grocery item she could ever want.

“What?” Brigitte said, and Dva realized she was staring.

Dva shook her head.”Just thinking. Sorry.”

“About what?”

“Nothing.” She picked up the dough disks. ‘The fridge, right? We could watch something while we wait,” she turned around and opened the fridge door, ‘It’s still too cold to sit on the balcony--honestly it’s stupid that I even have one, it’s too cold most of the year. I didn’t think enough about the weather--”

“Hana, do you like me?” She turned around quickly to find Brigitte looking at her almost...nervously, a cup of tea in her hand. “I mean,” she laughed, “I don’t know how to say that in a grown up way.”

“I do.” Dva, it turned out, had no idea how to respond in an adult way, and stumbled over every teenage emotion she found herself feeing. “I really do. I want--”

“I know there is, so much happening with you, and I--the new headquarters, and I know we’re not talking about how Tracer’s sick, but Tracer’s sick--maybe I shouldn’t have said that? I mean, I’m not--she does a great job as commander, still, and you’re helping. That’s, you know, really good, that you’re helping. God, I can’t stop talking.” She looked at Dva and Dva recognized the same strange panic in her eyes. “I don’t really--my brothers and sisters kept me so busy, and my father was always teaching me about...things that aren’t this, you know, at all.” She closed her eyes tight. “I want to be your girlfriend!”

She clapped her hand over her mouth, and the two of them looked at each other, silent, wide-eyed.

The oven dinged as it came up to temperature.

#moonlight-frittata #valentine's prompts #HON HON HON

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angels-n-bunnies · 5 years ago

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Reaper: people who only sleep with one pillow make me sick

Moira: people who sleep with more than one pillow are shown to be more lonely and depressed.

Reaper:-

Sombra: *at 6 am, holding a mug*

Moira: *passing by* you up this early? Even drinking some coffee? Maybe you are maturing.

Widow: you going to tell her it's a mug full of lucky charms?

Sombra: no. It's called a power move.

Roadhog: I wanna do bad things to you.

Junkrat: like what~?

Roadhog: break your legs, choke you to death, and push you off a building.

Junkrat: kinky

Reaper: I told you to stop doing that with the knives.

Sombra: *with knives tapped to her hands* but wolverine has-

Reaper: I said stop.

Dva: when I get murdered, can you make sure I become an unsolved case?

Mercy: what?

Dva: I want to be on BuzzFeed unsolved.

Mercy: can we go back to the part where you said "when I get murdered"?

Moira: Angela, do you ever feel like you're wasting your life?

Mercy: only when I'm awake.

Mercy: how would you rate your pain?

Genji: it's a thumbs down

Mercy:

Genji: would not recommend *nearly dies*

Sigma: do you ever drink so much coffee that you feel kinda dizzy, then the world is moving in slow motion, and then youre drifting through space and time, and then you can see everything and nothing while being lost in the void?

Sombra: ...No?

Moira: *nods in the background*

Gabe: only geniuses can say these words really quickly. Eye. Yam. Stew. Peed.

Moira: oh come on, no one's falling for th-

McCree: IAMSTUPID

Baptiste: I need you to swear-

Sombra: Fuck!

Baptiste: I meant like, promise.

Gabe: don't ever let a recipe tell you how many chocolate chips to put in. You measure that shit with your heart.

Reaper, staging an intervention: Truth or dare?

Sombra: Truth.

Moira: How many hours have you slept this week?

Sombra: Dare.

Widow: Go to sleep.

Sombra: I don't like this game.

Widow: this place is too tough for you.

Dva: too tough for me? That's downright ridiculous. I'll have you know I stubbed my toe last week while watering my spice garden, and I only cried for twenty minutes.

Roadhog, at the beach: living my best life

Mercy: Jamison is drowning.

Roadhog: this ain't about him.

Dva, flexing: you see these arms?

Dva: Wii Sports Resort uwu

Tracer: I have never related to a fictional character more than I do with Donkey from Shrek

Tracer: talks too much, sings during sentences for no reason, a little annoying, but for some reason you still let him hang around.

Tracer: let's play dogeball!!

McCree: oh, me and my dad played that all the time.

Genji: oh really?

McCree: yeah, except we didn't play with a ball. We played with my need to feel emotional closeness instead and my father was so good at avoiding it.

Tracer: are you okay?

McCree: *with tears in his eyes* fine why?

Jack: you know what the worst part is?

Mercy: that you're having to process your emotional pain without alcohol?

Jack: No... Yes...

Death: your time has come, Genji. I'm here to take-

Genji: hold on, I need to ask Angela.

Death: this isn't a choice-

Genji: she said no

Death: damn.

Mercy: it's okay to admit you're wrong...

Moira: I'm not wrong! I just didn't know I wasn't right!

Jack: Morning Angela... What are you drinking?

Mercy: water

Jack: really? It doesn't smell like water.

Mercy: it's imported water.

Jack: uh, huh... Imported from where?

Mercy: Russia...

Jack: are you drinking vodka at nine in the morning?

Mercy: it's nine-thirty.

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tzdkh · 4 years ago

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anyway time for grisha!verse bullshit ideas while i work out details:

addict. david might be a healer but he’s also a wee bit in hiding. no one knows what he is, other than a bully.

anarchist. wrench is 100% a fucking anarchist baby in kettledam. he was a mercenary for crime organizations. now he’s just... being a shit. not big on slavery. spends a lot of time with explosives. wears a mask that covers most of his face.

celandine. heartrender. soft baby. living his best life in the woods. don’t ask questions. pretty. golden. rapunzel hair. idk. very pleasant if you find him.

fox. thief. might be a tailor, might also just be a clever shit with quick fingers. too smart for his own good. very androgynous (&good) looking.

monster. inferni. grisha soldier. a bit of a bitch, but cute. looks v. good in uniform. voted most likely to laugh at inappropriate times and has sharp teeth.

saint. simple farm...man. likes horses. soft spoken. lives in dva stolba. nobody bothers him because he’s built like a truck and also maybe had a temper as a child.

rose & apple. crime husbands. just two dudes conning people in kettledam. living their best lives. apple has crossed the fold at least twice before. rose is a big manipulator, enough that people think he’s a heartrender but he’s just good at reading emotions and manipulation.

#✦ writer → resident robofucker 「 ooc 」#this one is for you mel

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pcktknife · 5 years ago

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oh yeah i never fully explained that d.va kirumi & angie drawing. anyways i was playing no limits as d.va real late last night and since i was on a losing streak of games i was real sick of putting actual effort into this match.so i avoided the whole objective and sat outside the enemy spawn room and waited for them to come out so i could say hi,be nice n friendly,whatever.and luckily for me the enemy team was real nice about it and would say their hellos and pass.at one point the whole enemy team(which was like 3-4 dvas and some torbs as well as some of my teamates) is where i am emoting and having fun,completely ignoring the game until a member from each of our teams start shooting and we go back to what we were doing.i go back to the enemy spawnpoint and chill some more and everyones still cool.after the match i get a friend request from one of the enemy dvas and their ps4 avatar is kirumi and mine happens to be angie and thats why i drew that little doodle ^ ^

#sorry i really enjoy talking abt the matches i have #theyre really fun sometimes!#kenan.txt

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stonesingers · 8 years ago

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Also i have yet to see a Reinhardt with a golden hammer use his dance emote, which is really disappointing because i bet it looks very funny

#most heros put their weapons away for their dance emote except Rein & dva i think?#idk I just want to see a reinhardt cradling& dancing with his golden hammer

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laurazepamwrites · 5 years ago

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The Chemicals between us ~ Chapter 1

The numbers on the digital clock screen turned to 03:00 am. The watchpoint was silent save the few still functioning Domiciliary bots quietly moving through the corridors and the screech of some local wildlife far off in the distant. The world was dark and still and peaceful. No sane person would be awake at this hour.

She didn't feel sane.

It was that dream again. The suffocating nightmare that woke her up most nights thrashing and tearing off covers before finally leaving her huddled in a ball, dampened with cold sweat and whimpering. Mei’s breathing had finally slowed enough to a steady rhythm. Slowly and tentatively she sat up brushing her tousled hair out of her face. She wiped away the tears with her palms and took a deep breath. The only light in her small room came from the soft blue glow of Snowball the Droid silently charging nearby.

She had been in Gibraltar for 2 months, part of a skeleton crew in a forgotten watchpoint for a forgotten organization. She certainly had concerns of coming here, she still did. The Petras act made any overwatch activity illegal and its participants prosecuted. Mei was struggling to come to terms with her malfunctioned cryostasis and now had ten years of change in the world to catch up on. Seven months ago Winstons message had woken up the eco point, waking Mei up to a world that had abandoned and moved on without her. She threw herself into her work, there was years of data and information stored in the various ecopoints around the world. Not strictly working within Overwatch but still having to get permission from the UN to access the sites, this was made even more complicated by the fact she was declared dead. She had to work, if she stopped she would think, then dwell, then sink into despair. She had no family left, her sister had grieved and moved on with her life. Her mother had passed away whilst Mei slept and her own father no longer recognized her and murmured that his little Xiǎoxuě was gone as he rocked back and forth in his room in the nursing home.

So she had worked and travelled, occasionally checking in with Winston who urged her to always let him know where she was. She had put this down to guilt on his part as head of science in Overwatch. She had never confronted her feelings on blame. She buried them, donning her well known cheerful optimistic persona, and worked. It wasn't until her friend Dr Angela Ziegler had called her, telling her to look at a recent article in the news from Greece. A former Overwatch agent had been found murdered at their family home. Further research showed they were not the only former agents killed. She had angrilly called Winston demanding answers, now realizing why he needed to know where she was. She and other agents were potentially marked people. For all Mei knew she was walking around with a target painted on her. It was a long and an emotional call, Mei also learning that Commander Morrison and Captain Amari were both alive and moving against Talon.

Mei didn't want to be involved in a war. She joined Overwatch for scientific purposes, to better the world and preserve it for future generations. Now being an unassuming climatologist for Overwatch had potentially put a mark on her head. Now she was urged to go to Gibraltar where past agents answering the call could work against a terrorist organization and the looming threat of a second crisis brewing in Russia. New recruits had even been silently brought in based on merit and skill. The Mech fighter Hana song, newly recovered from injuries sustained whilst single handedly fighting omnics. Lúcio Correia dos Santos, a freedom fighter, revolutionary leader and musician. Aleksandra Zaryanova, Sergeant within the Russian defence forces and former Athlete. Brigitte Lindholm had come with Reinhardt and was a highly skilled armourer. Fareeha Amari had also travelled to Gibraltar and had stayed despite a heated argument with her Mother. Even two Omnics Zenyatta and Bastion had joined their ranks. All fighters, all skilled combatants. Mei was no soldier. She could barely call herself a fighter. She was a scientist and she felt useless here, cut off from the eco points and only so much data to work from.

Still, at least she was safe here. Wasn't she?

She looked at the clock, 03:55. It had taken her nearly an hour to settle after her nightmare. A few more hours and she would be in the morning briefing. She moved her hand along her bedside table feeling for the small lamp and turned it on, squinting slightly at the sudden light. She put on her glasses and picked up her tablet, absentmindedly scrolling through the latest news, a headline caught her eye of the two criminal Junkers who had apparently blown up a corporate building in Sydney, their whereabouts now unknown. She gave a soft ‘hmph!’ They had travelled the globe near as much as she had. How on earth had they not been apprehended yet?

‘How long before ‘you’ are apprehended?’ Her mind asked. She ignored the question and continued to scroll through headlines...An interview with LumeriCo CEO Guillermo Portero… Speculation on Dva’s ‘supposed’ dismissal from duty...Lucio’s cancelled tour...Tensions in Russia, a climbing death toll…murders….

Mei sighed. She was still emotionally charged and worrying news would not help her relax. She shivered slightly and pulled her cover back over herself, settling back into bed and began playing a silly game on the tablet. It wasn't long before she fell back into an uneasy sleep.

Jack Morrison walked into the 07:00 morning briefing and looked around the room. Winston was talking to Fareeha who stifled a yawn. To her left Lucio, Hana and Lena avidly spoke about a race around the watchpoint. Jack noted to maybe nip that in the bud before someone breaks their neck. Next to them was Mei, sitting quietly holding her tea in both hands, smiling politely when Angela sat down beside her. Torbjorn was sitting back in his chair, both hands folded on his stomach as he dozed, grumbling a curse as McCree used his prosthetic to light his match for his cigar then proceeded to put both feet up in from of him. Zarya gave him a distasteful look from across the table.

‘This isn't enough’ He thought to himself. A team of barely twenty people with very limited resources operating under the radar against a large, well funded, terrorist organization. And things were only getting worse. He cleared his throat and the chatter died down, eyes turning to him.

‘Good morning, as you know those not here are currently on assignment and will be due back soon. We are still pursuing leads in Iraq, Western Africa and Russia, however we need new intelligence before assigning any agents to the field there. I won't have anyone going in blind whilst we are this limited. Now, I called this meeting this morning because my sources have traced known Talon agents moving across Australia.’

Jack turned on the large projection in the centre of the rounded table bringing up a map of Australia and highlighting towns and cities of the sightings.

‘Now..we have a pattern. They are moving purposely, town to town. It's my belief that they are following these two…’ Jack brought up two photos of the Junkers Mei had read about much earlier that morning. ‘...If you are not aware who these two are, The one in the mask is Mako ‘Roadhog’ Ruthlege. Mercenary for hire and Killer. The other, possibly more dangerous one is Jamison ‘Junkrat’ Fawkes. Demolition and explosives expert. Both from the settlement called Junkertown in the Australian outback. After their little crime spree around the world both touched down In Adelaide. They've certainly been keeping quiet until totalling a building in Sydney. Since then they have been on the move, coincidently being in the same areas as Talon. Whether they have been hired by Talon or being followed I have yet to learn. But what I do know is either way I want them in. They Are too dangerous to let Talon have and if Talon do want them than I want to know why..yes Jesse?’

McCree had lazily raised his arm to speak. His gave his cigar a long drag before he spoke. ‘I know of these boys Jack, got a pretty bounty on their heads. Now they’ve slipped through every sheriff in every countries fingers. What makes you think we can find them?’

‘Genji is currently in Darwin northern Australia, he's been surveying theirs and Talons movements for over a week, he’s been using old contacts who are less than savoury but they had the information on where they may be. He’s sure he’s got a location down. A team will be on route tonight.’

Winston cleared his throat ‘Err..Commander Morrison? Surely If Talon wanted to hire them they would have approached them by now? It seems a great deal of effort to track them the length of the country. What could they possibly want from them?’

‘Maybe they want more firepower?’ Suggested Torbjorn.

‘No they got plenty o’ that’ said McCree, stubbing out his cigar on his prosthetic hand ‘I heard a rumor from an old Aussie bounty hunter looking for those two..he told me the kid supposedly found something in the Omnium ruins. Something valuable.

Zarya scoffed ‘Anything shiny is valuable to those scavengers. Its nothing’

‘Regardless,’ continued Jack ‘We get to them before Talon does. Myself, McCree, Winston and Lena will be leaving tonight. We’ll rendezvous with Genji at his location, find them and bring them here.’

‘Here?’ asked Fareeha in a worrying tone ‘Im sorry commander but is that a good idea? You want two criminals who take fun in destroying things..here?'

Zarya nodded in agreement. ‘They bad people, you bring them here this whole base blow sky high.’

‘We have a lot of valuable equipment and wouldn't our data be at risk if-’ Began Mei, until Hana thrust her arm in the air for attention.

‘Ooo ooo! Can I ask them about the Mech fights they have?’

Lucio laughed ‘They’re not here to hang Hana.’

‘Have you seen those things Lu? All spikes and flamethrowers and then there's the undefeated champion called Wrecking ball and no one knows what he-’

Winston coughed getting the young girls attention whilst pointedly looking at Jack who stood with a look on his face that suggested his patience was wearing very thin.

Hana gave an apologetic grin ‘Opps, sorry’ she whispered and settled back into her seat.

Jack sighed. The scars on his face taut as he frowned.

‘Talon wants them so I want them’ Said Jack with a steel stubbornness ‘They can choose to cooperate and come quietly or kick and scream, I don't care. What I do care about is knowing Talons next move. Once I get the information I want then I’ll toss them to the authorities. Any more questions?’

If there was no one spoke. Jack grunted.

‘Good. Those going we leave at 12:00 hours and with good time touching down at 22:00 hours, prepare yourselves and the Orca. Lena I want you to make sure stealth and auto modes are good for flight.’

Lena saluted ‘Aye aye!’

‘Everyone staying here, wait on your orders. Amari is due back tonight, should our mission in Australia be successful or not we will debrief on return, but for now you are all dismissed.'

The room began to empty slowly as Jack stayed behind, seemingly studying the holographic map in front of him. He glanced towards the door as the final person left, watching it shut completely. Once he knew he was alone he turned off the large projection and brought up a smaller screen in front of him. He types in a code, a small ping noise signalling granted access. Jack glanced at the door again, then proceeds to type on the interactive screen in front of him. He was contacting someone.

:Are you sure they are at the location you gave me?

He typed He stared at the screen, waiting on a reply. Another glance toward the door. What felt like an eternity passed when finally a return message popped up on screen.

:You know it's polite to say hello first?

Jack grunted, and swore under his breath. He was not in the mood for games.

:Is the location correct? :……………

He waited.

:I am offended you have to ask… :(

As Jack began to type a rather angry reply another message appeared on screen.

:Location correct. Keep your Ninja on visual. Strike team moving tonight. Time unknown.

:Why these two?

:The Tank is disposable. They want Fawkes. I don't know why.

:Anything else?

:I give it two days before you try to kill him.

:Anything important?

:No, but do let me know why Talon wants him.Did I tell you no one wants to tell me anything here? I feel so left out and the big bosses are very angry after your cowboy got involved in the great train heist. Whatever he threw into the canyon was vital.

:Just do your job. Both of them.

:Oh how you two sound so alike.

:I mean it. And be careful.

:Im offended. You know one slip up and i'm dead? Dr Lucky charms will do the deed herself. Now she really doesn't like me.

:Signing out

:Wait!

:What is it?

:….You know it's polite to say goodbye!!

Jack signed out hoping it was as passive aggressive as it possible could be, deleting the message file as he had done for years and turned off the projection. He stood for a moment as if deep in thought before sighing deeply and walking to the door, letting it softly shut behind him.

#overwatch #meihem #jamison fawkes #mei ling zhou #junkrat #fanfic

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lovecanbesostrange · 8 years ago

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*cries happy tears* I wasn’t aiming for it, but I did it. THE FLOOR IS LAVA!!!!! First I booped enemy Lucio, but he tried to get back up I guess, so by the time he died I was wallriding elsewhere. And then I booped Reaper and Junkrat and jumped back and made the tiniest of wallrides getting through the door in the back, not even thinking about this achievement. I wasted my ult in celebration with the Roadhog (who did not die). XD

#I deserve the legendary Lucio skin and his dance emote now #please lootboxes give it to me!#I have 109 hours on Mercy and 25 on Lucio in QP #maybe I should switch mains ;)#(inbetween is DVa with 41)

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savedgames · 4 years ago

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【 𝚀𝚄𝙴𝚂𝚃 𝙻𝙾𝙶: 𝙲𝙷𝙰𝚁𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝚁𝙴𝙻𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽𝚂𝙷𝙸𝙿𝚂 𝚆𝙸𝚃𝙷 . . . 】 :// @agent-lacroix sent: Your relationship with + me (agent-lacroix) | either Dva or Widow is fine :D |

The sniper is quiet for a long moment following the inquiry, her lips pressing together slowly and her eyes dropping. ❝ I fail to see what talking about this will do. . . . ❞ a soft huff escapes her — an attempt to seem more indignant and stubborn, less saddened by the question. Her relationship with Gérard?

Once upon a time, it had been like a fairy tale — every little girl’s dream of a kind and doting husband. They enjoyed each other’s company and barely wanted to be apart. Talon, of course . . . had changed all of that ages ago. Her disappearance had put something of a rift between them she could never quite place. And then, of course, she’d ended his life. Even through the numbed emotions, she wasn’t sure she’d ever forgive herself for that, regardless if it was really her fault.

To have him back in her presence again was . . . disconcerting, to say the least. It drew forth a complex mix of emotions ranging from frustration at her seeming failure to an ache in her heart at what he’d become. Because of them. Again.

❝ You and I both know that nothing will be the same as it was. . . . That’s what you wanted, isn’t it? ❞

#agentlacroix #— JOKE'S ON YOU ALISTAIR: I DID BOTH :D #— also this is vaguely loose enough to fit for any Talon verse :3 #★ ~ PATCH FILES: [DOWNLOADING]#★ ~ CHARACTER SELECT: WIDOWMAKER #★ ~ INVENTORY: [WIDOWMAKER] Headcanon

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yawpyawp · 6 years ago

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(1) It’s simple, really. Walk up to the display case. Choose a pastry to take to the little table in the corner of the bakery, some black bread to bring home to this month’s apartment, and some assortment to bring to the next debrief, to share. Nat wonders not whether Steve will like the vatrushka the the left of the register, but whether he’ll end up eating a full dozen. Clint will take as many pryanik as he can fit in both hands. Tony will scoff and probably call her Babuska Lady, or something

(2) to that effect, for the duration of the meeting and snag something while no one’s looking. One by one she matches her team members to baked goods. All that’s left for her to do is step up to the counter and speak to a man who probably has no idea he’s related to an internationally notorious assassin. Easy. Easier than the first solo mission she ever had. Nat hasn’t seen the little girl since she stepped inside. Talk about unexpected. As she tries to calculate the age difference between the

(3) girl behind the counter and the girl who needed both hands to drive a knife between a stranger’s ribs, she realizes someone is talking to her. Nat looks up to make eye contact with her great-grand-second cousin, or something. His voice is deep and warm with just a trace of an accent. “I have fresh loaves coming out in ten minutes, if you’re willing to wait” Artem offers. “If that’s what you’re looking for, baryshnya? I’ll add a zefir with them, no charge, for your time?” She stares. No one’s

(4) called her that in.., well, nevermind. “U tebya yest’ izyum varushka?” she asks. Her voice was so close to cracking, ugh. Artem’s face lights up and Nat blinks hard as her long-lost kin beams at her over the register. "Da! Dva vida, zolotoy izyum i smorodina!” he grabs a piece of parchment paper and crouches down to open the display. "Poprobuyte oba, oni na vkus kak doma.”

(5) [translations! “baryshnya”- “miss”, “U tebya yest’ izyum varushka?”- "Do you have raisin varushka?” “Da! Dva vida, zolotoy izyum i smorodina!”- "Yes! Two kinds, golden raisins and currants.” “Poprobuyte oba, oni na vkus kak doma.”- “Try both, they taste like home.”]

————

HHHHHHHH I LOVE THIS SO MUCH I LOVE THIS I FUCKING LOVE THIS CONCEPT IM GONNA CRY I LOVE THE IDEA OF NAT HAVING RELATIVES I AM GETTING SO EMOTIONAL

#headcanons #asks

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verai-marcel · 6 years ago

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Lesson in Humility (RDR2 Fanfic, 18+ ONLY)

Summary: You were raised in a cold household, with parents who only wanted what was best for themselves. So you were taught how to be a lady with the coldest eyes and an ice heart. They taught you that no one was good enough, that you were better than everyone else, and you believed them. At least, until a blue-eyed bodyguard came to humble you.

Author’s Notes: Geez, I’m not sure what kick I’m on, but my stories are getting more filthy, sorry. @dva-xo, this one is all yours. Also trying a new format, where reader POV refers to you as “you”, while Arthur’s POV refers to you as “her”. I think, from his perspective, he’s not going to think in second person. Let me know what you think.

Tags: rough sex, D/s, humiliation play, name calling, low honor arthur, rich reader, virgin reader, reader POV, Arthur POV, filthy talk, might as well call it a porn

Also find it on AO3!

“Ain't there someone better for this job? Maybe someone better lookin’ and charmin’?”

Hosea sighed. For all his picking on Arthur for being an idiot, he knew he really wasn’t. He was the only one capable of handling this job with any tact. Charles was a close second, but he was a better hunter, so his skills would be better suited to feed the camp. Javier might have been able to do this, but Dutch needed him for scouting and tracking the O’Driscolls. And there was no way he was sending John or Bill or heaven forbid, Micah. Not for a job like this.

“It'll only be for a week while the family finds a permanent house guard.”

Arthur sighed so hard that Hosea thought he was being melodramatic if he didn't know him any better.

“Fine, fine. This better pay good.”

“It will. We already got paid partially up front, and you'll get paid the full amount at the end of the week when the contract is up. Now go meet her at this house,” he said, passing Arthur a map with directions scribbled in the corner.

“She better not be some spoiled brat,” Arthur mumbled and he stomped off to pack some clothes.

***

Looking up at the small house, you sighed. Your parents had sent you to St. Denis to learn how to be a proper lady of the house. Growing up under the exacting tutelage of your narcissistic parents, they had taught you etiquette and reminded you constantly of your place in life, and thus, the relative place of others, which was beneath you.

The best women's college with the best home economics program was in this city, and while you could recite etiquette rules all day, you couldn't cook or mend a shirt for the life of you. You were feeling bitter; all the things that had interested you as a child but were told were beneath you, were now things your parents had decided were the proper topics to learn.

You could have let me learn when I was 5, then I wouldn't have to start twenty years late.

Sighing again, you set your bitterness aside and followed the two servants who were bringing your luggage inside. A maid greeted you at the door and guided you around the house; it was small, just two stories: there was a parlour, eating area, servant’s quarters, and kitchen downstairs, and four bedrooms upstairs. One of those bedrooms was yours, another was for your parents when they stayed in town, and the last two were for guests.

Before you had left the main house, however, your parents told you that one of the guest bedrooms would be occupied by a personal bodyguard that they had hired for you. It was only for a week until they could find a permanent guard, they had said. You rolled your eyes; you didn’t need some local ruffian following you around.

You already hated it here. It was humid and your clothing was sticking to your skin in an unrefined manner. The maid had left you alone in your new room while she continued cleaning and putting away your belongings. You turned to her and told her that you would like a bath. She paused for a moment.

“Immediately,” you added.

She nodded and went away to get it prepared for you.

Walking over to the window, you looked out at the city and scowled. You were not looking forward to living here.

***

Arthur looked up at the decently sized house and whistled. Whoever he was guarding really was rich, if this was their second home. He walked through the gates and knocked on the doors. An older woman came to the door. He quickly explained that he was the bodyguard hired by the head of the family and gave her the letter of introduction that Hosea had given to him.

After introducing herself as Anna Miller, the head housekeeper, she led him through the house so he’d learn the location of all the rooms, and then finally the room where he’d be for the next week. She also gave him a schedule of the lady’s week; it looked like he’d be escorting her to and from school for five days, and then the last two days would be leisure, and he’d just have to take her wherever she wanted to go.

“Oh, one more thing. Don’t take anything she says personally,” she said before she left him to unpack.

“Huh?”

The housekeeper looked back at him over her shoulder. “She’s a cold one.”

***

After escorting you to the college this morning, the maid had said that your new guard would come to escort you home, and to wait at the gates for him. So you waited, and you held yourself up straight, even though everything in you wanted to just slouch and slink home. It had been a terrible day. You had followed each instruction to the letter, been an exemplary student. And yet when you tried to show another girl how to double stitch, she had turned you away, asking the other girls instead, even though you were clearly the better study.

Fools, tittering away. Some of us are here to better ourselves, you had thought disdainfully.

When the instructor had tried to tell you that you were perhaps being a bit showy, you swallowed any response you might have made and nodded. Etiquette demanded that you treat all others as equals, even if you were superior to them. To maintain that facade all the time was stressful; all you wanted was a bit of praise for being so good. Instead you were punished for being better. Served me right, you thought. You nearly broke etiquette.

When your coach came up and stopped before you, you watched with some trepidation as a tall, broad-shouldered man stepped out and looked straight at you. He called your name, and held out his hand.

Silently, you took it and let him help you into the coach. And you were silent the whole way back, since you had nothing to say.

***

Jesus, Mrs. Miller was right. She IS cold. Not a damn word the whole ride back, Arthur thought to himself as he helped her out of the coach. She kept walking away from him, her back straight, her face not showing a single emotion. He trailed behind her, not sure what he was supposed to do now.

“You’re dismissed for today,” she said when she got to the door. “I have no need for a guard now that I’m home.”

Arthur’s eyebrows furrowed. “Listen, as much as I’d like to go the bar and get a drink, Mrs. Miller clearly stated that I’m supposed to guard you at all times.”

“Who said that?”

“Mrs. Miller? The head housekeeper?”

“Oh. Her. Fine,” she said dismissively, and walked into the house as if he wasn’t there.

Arthur rubbed his face; he felt a headache coming on.

This is goin’ to be a long week.

***

You didn’t know the maid was the head housekeeper, but he didn’t need to know that. You hadn’t even bothered to remember her name. Such details didn’t register as important to you; what mattered now was maintaining your dignity. You had never dealt with a man who not only questioned you, but did so in an impolite tone. You had almost snapped at him, but you would not lose decorum over such a small thing.

It was not lost on you that the man exuded the kind of masculinity that you had only heard about behind closed parlour doors where women spoke quietly of the books they had read, books with scandalous content with gunslingers rescuing ladies from bandits. Your breathing hitched at the thought, and you had to take a deep breath to calm your heart. This would not do at all.

This was going to be a very long week.

***

Three days passed, and Arthur grew more and more irritated with the lady who showed nothing but cold indifference to everyone around her, especially him. He was only mildly annoyed by how she treated him, but the way she barely spoke to Anna, and the way she treated the servants Thomas and Harry, pissed him off. He even talked to them about it, but they just shrugged it off, saying that the lady had always been like that, and she didn’t know any better. When he asked why wasn’t she taught better, they shrugged again.

“She’s the daughter of our boss; it’s hard for us to say anything,” they had said. Arthur just shook his head. This wasn’t his place. Four more days, and he could collect his pay and go.

***

Each day that passed, Arthur would give you a piece of his mind. Somewhat politely at first, but with each passing day, he seemed to get more short with you.

On the sixth day, Arthur finally snapped at you.

“Show some respect, Thomas was just doin’ his job,” he growled while walking with you upstairs after dinner. You had once again corrected Thomas on the proper way to lay out the silverware before the meal started, and you recall Arthur giving you a pointed look, but you hadn’t known why, and you didn’t care.

“How am I not? I’m correcting him.”

“He’s a human bein’, not an animal. A please and a thank you never hurt nobody.”

You opened your mouth to retort, but he had a point; etiquette demanded equal treatment. You shut your mouth and looked away.

“Oh, so you CAN feel ashamed.”

You glared daggers at him. “You should know who you’re dealing with.”

“What, a rich woman with no respect for common folk?”

“I respect those who deserve it.”

By now he had walked you to your room, and your hand was on the doorknob. You jumped when his hand slammed the door jamb next to your face.

“He deserves it more than you,” he snarled.

***

Arthur noted her eyes going wide and looking a bit scared as she turned to look at him. The darker part of his desires flared to life, seeing her like this. A crooked smile slowly grew on his face. It was his last night here. Might as well teach her a lesson, if she chose to let him in.

***

Your heart beat wildly in your ribcage. The smile that he was giving you was like nothing any man had shown you before. You felt something tense lower in your body, and you knew, you knew that if you let him into your room, you would throw all of your etiquette lessons out the window.

“Looks like you ain’t never been taken to task for your lack of respect.”

You scoffed, despite feeling a tremble in your hands. “Are you going to?”

He stepped menacingly closer, staring down at you once he had you pinned against the door with his gimlet stare.

“Maybe I will. Because you need to learn some manners.”

Your head spun. Maybe you deserved it. This past week, as you thought of all the times you had failed to maintain etiquette in class, letting out the occasional scoff or snide remark, you felt shame burn in your heart. And seeing the reaction of the women around you? The look in their eyes, knowing you weren’t perfect? The worst.

Something in you snapped. You turned the door handle.

“Fine.”

***

Arthur followed her into the dimly lit room and locked the door behind him. He didn’t want any interruptions. She stopped in the middle of the room and turned to look at him, a defiant look on her, even though she had clearly invited him in. He put his hands on his belt and observed her. In a pink blouse and a cream colored skirt, she looked absolutely charming. He had an urge to take her hair out of that tight bun and let it cascade down her naked body.

He stepped closer to her, closer than her precious etiquette dictated, and touched her hip. He loved the soft gasp she gave, and gripped her waist, pulling her close. Leaning in and grazing her earlobe with his lips, he felt his blood rush at the feel of her quivering against him. He was going to enjoy this one.

***

“Proper women don’t raise their voice,” he whispered into your ear. That was the only warning you got before he started sucking on your neck. You gasped and started breathing faster.

“Unbutton your blouse,” he ordered. You slowly undid each button as he watched you, a hunger growing in his eyes as more of your skin was exposed. You let the blouse slide off you. Your chemise was blocking his view, so he reached up and tore the fabric down, baring your breasts. You immediately brought your arms up, but he grabbed your wrists.

“Rule one: show me everythin’,” he said in a low voice. He let go of your wrists; you dropped your arms and let him look at you. Your face burned.

Then he turned you around and pushed you towards the window. Pulling open the drapes a little bit, he forced you up against the glass, flattening your breasts against the cool material. Looking outside, you saw a few people past the garden gates. It suddenly hit you that if you could see them, then they could potentially see you.

You struggled in his arms, but with one hand he gripped the back of your neck, and with the other, he started lifting up your skirt.

“People can see me!” you whispered frantically.

“Maybe. Maybe not. They might not notice.”

You were about to protest some more, but then you felt his touch on your thigh. He drew lazy circles on your rear, then delved his fingers down to your slit. Flicking your clit was a new sensation, and you took a sharp breath. You wriggled as you felt him toy with your body. His other hand that had been on the back of your neck holding you in place now started to stroke your shoulders, your waist, your hips. He pulled the remains of your chemise off you so you were bare from the waist up.

“Then again, maybe they'll all see you, exposin’ yourself like this.”

Then he pushed a finger inside of you, and you pressed up against the glass, unfamiliar with this intimate invasion of your body. You quietly cried out at the strange feeling. When he added a second one, then a third, you were glad for the cool glass against your body as it heated up with every push into you. He watched you in the reflection of the glass, could see your face contort with everything he did to you. The arrogance in his smile gnawed at you, but there was nothing you could say; you had asked for this.

Then he pulled his fingers out of you. You turned your head to see him unbuttoning his fly. Noticing that he had your attention, he slowly pulled his cock out, running your juices from his fingers up and down his hard shaft.

Arthur stepped closer and nudged your opening. You squeaked, making him chuckle. Then he began to sink himself inside of you.

“Ah, ah,” you called out, unable to keep your voice in. He covered your mouth.

“Rule two: My little bitch doesn't speak unless spoken to,” he rasped in your ear as he sunk in to the hilt and stayed still, letting you adjust to his girth. You trembled under him, and he licked the column of your neck as he undid your hair. It fell in waves down your back and around your shoulders; he combed his hand through it gently, before grabbing a handful at the base of your head and pulling you back.

He tightened the grip on your waist before he slid out of you and then slammed back in with such force that you were shoved into the glass. You braced your arms against the window frame to keep your balance as he started to move faster.

“Fucked by a man you hardly know. That ain't so ladylike,” he said without missing a beat. “Shameful hussy like you deserves this.”

You clenched around him. What on earth was the matter with you? You wanted him talking down to you, degrading you. The humiliation, specifically from him, made you feel on fire for once in your cold life.

His grip on you tightened, almost painfully, and brought you back to the present. “Ain't that right, sugar?” he growled.

“Y-yes,” you stammered.

He pulled tighter on your hair. “Yes what?”

“Yes, sir,” you breathed.

His low laugh sounded like a cross between amusement and dark pleasure. Letting go of your hair, he started fucking you harder, your body thumping softly against the glass. You tried not to moan, tried not to make any sounds, but when he reached down to finger your clit, your voice betrayed you, a soft whine escaping your lips.

Arthur’s fingers immediately left your folds, and you choked back a sob at their loss. You felt him pull away from you, and you slid down the glass slightly.

He undid your skirt and pulled it off, along with your drawers, leaving you naked except for your stockings. Then he slapped your ass hard, making you yelp in surprise.

“Don’t make me punish you more. Just stay quiet and take it.” He spanked your ass again, and you bit your lower lip to keep from crying out. Again and again, he made your rear end sting.

When he finally stopped, you weren’t sure how many spankings you had taken. All you knew was that when he shoved himself back inside you once more, the feeling of his clothes against your sensitive skin was too much, and you once again pushed up against the glass since you had nowhere else to go.

“Look out there, sugar. All those people you look down on. Can you imagine what they’d think of you now?”

You looked away from the window and closed your eyes.

Then you felt him wrap his arms around you and lift you up.

“Wrap your arm around me,” he ordered. You swung one arm around his neck and grabbed his shoulder. You leaned back on his chest as he adjusted his stance, and then switched his grip to spread your legs wide. In the reflection of the glass, you saw yourself in his arms, his hands gripping your thighs. You were spread open like a butterfly, and in between your legs, his cock was pulsing inside you.

Then he started lifting you up and down, and in the glass you saw a wanton woman, breasts heaving, your slit flowing with your juices as he made you his for the night.

“Tell me what you are.”

“I'm your whore,” you gasped.

“And what do you need?”

“Your cock inside me,” you whimpered.

And you became addicted. The power in his arms, his whole body, was a wonderous thing, as he fucked you by the window for anyone to see. The way he looked at you, like you were nothing, like you should feel so honored to be used by him, made you shiver.

“Look at yourself. How can you be better than them, when you're actin’ like this?” He thrust into you one more time and kept himself fully inside you.

“Touch yourself. Show me your face when you come with my dick inside you.”

You reached down with your free hand and rubbed yourself. It didn't take long, you were already so close that you came within a minute, gasping and staring at Arthur's eyes in the reflection. He looked satisfied, and a thrill of happiness ran through you.

He walked over to the bed and dropped you onto the mattress, face first. You tried to lift your head, but he immediately shoved it back down.

Entering you from behind, he railed you hard, not letting up for a moment, not giving you any mercy. He grabbed a corner of the bedsheet and stuffed it in your mouth to stifle your cries. You bit down and moaned as he kept pounding into you, leaning back occasionally to smack your ass.

“Learn your lesson, sugar?”

You nodded frantically.

He took the sheet out of your mouth. “What was that?”

“Yes, sir!”

“Good,” he said slowly, the word suddenly becoming so sexual in nature that you wanted him to say it again. Anything to make him praise you with that deep, honeyed voice.

He suddenly pulled out of you and grabbed your hair, dragging you to your knees in front of him. He slowly stroked his cock in front of you and tipped your chin up.

“Open up, sweet. I'm gonna use you real good tonight.”

You opened your mouth and he gently started to move in and out, letting you get used to his size. You got the idea quickly and moved on your own, so all he had to do was stand there and let you pleasure him. Using your tongue, you quickly learned what he liked, looking up at him and begging for praise with your eyes. You were completely in his thrall, and he knew it.

“That's it, you're doing good,” he crooned, and you flushed with ecstacy. He petted your hair and caressed your cheek, and you leaned into his touch like a cat.

You felt him twitch in your mouth. Suddenly Arthur grabbed your hair and pulled you off him, your mouth making a pop sound as he gripped himself and stroked once, twice, and came all over your unsuspecting face.

“Clean me up,” he demanded, and you licked him until he was satisfied. He put himself away and looked down at you with a wry grin.

“You look so slutty with my spend all over you, sugar.”

“Thank you, sir,” you said without prompting. He gave you a true smile this time, his eyes filling with warmth. You wanted for nothing more.

He kneeled down so he was eye level with you. “Now clean yourself up. And don't tell no one about this.” Then he leaned in closer and ran his thumb over your lips. “It's our secret, okay?”

You nodded. He nodded back at you, stood up, and left you alone with your thoughts.

***

Arthur walked back to his room, feeling immensely gratified. No one knew about his depraved cravings, and he intended to keep it that way. And he always left his partners satisfied anyway, so they never spilled his secret.

***

The next morning as you left your room, Arthur was there, standing next to your door.

“I won't say anything,” you whispered. He nodded, and fell in step beside you. It was his last day; your new permanent guard was to show up this afternoon, so you decided to go take a walk in the park today.

You let the maid, no, Mrs Miller, know that you were heading out to the park for the morning. You called her by her name, told her you were thankful for all her help this week, and she smiled at you. That was nice.

Thomas drove the coach over to the park, and you thanked him for the drive, noting his pleasantly surprised look when you said it. It made you feel warm inside, and you were surprised by yourself.

“So, feelin’ kinder today?”

The two of you had walked around for five minutes before he finally spoke.

“Yes. It's… different,” you said thoughtfully. “It's nice.”

Arthur chuckled. “Yep.”

You turned to stand in front of him. “I've learned a few things about myself. Thanks to you.”

He shrugged. “Not sure I did anything worth thanking me for.”

Smiling at him, you laughed. It was the first time he had heard you or seen you this happy. It had been a long time since you laughed like this.

“I had a long think last night after you left. I need to be more respectful, and others will respond in kind.”

“You only now just figured this out?”

“I think I was too wrapped up in my own head to see outside.” You stepped a bit closer to him, but not any closer than etiquette allowed. “Last night was… freeing, in a way.”

Arthur shrugged.

“So thank you,” you said as you turned and started walking along the park path again. “I'll never forget it.”

You just heard him softly laughing behind you.

***

Arthur packed up his bag and slung it over his shoulder. It was a crazy week. He walked down the steps and exited the front door, seeing her waiting for him. Beyond her, he saw a man exit the coach. Clearly the new guard.

He walked past her, but not before whispering in her ear, “remember my lesson, sugar.” He grinned when he saw her blush and smile back at him, and he nodded at her before walking out the gate. He noted the way the new guard had been watching their whole exchange, and decided he didn't give a fuck.

The new guard assessed him, judged him, and dismissed him in a second. Handing him a stack of bills, he said, “For your help this week.”

Arthur counted the cash and shoved the stack into his satchel.

“Thanks,” he said, and walked towards the stable to get his horse and head back to camp.

He'd have to thank Hosea for the job. After all, he got an extra reward that he'd never tell anyone about.

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End Notes: Was it good? Needed work? Too repetitive? Please let me know. Trying new formats always has consequences...

Also I was supposed to tag @anniesburg because I was told to?

#arthur x reader #arthur morgan #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #rdr2 fanfic #nsft #Writing #fanfiction #tumblr request

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