#and he could care less about bell after his job was done

[collinnmckinley]

Bro i just saw an iNSANE post about adler... like... WHHAT?

[rumble-aint-a-rumble-without-me]

Hii dillo! I was wondering if you've talked about the gang and their opinions getting married and whatnot, and if you haven't, could you? Thanks a bunch 🫶

A/N: I don't think I've ever done anything like this, so I hope you enjoy it! They're a little repetitive maybe, but I tried my hardest :)

DARRY CURTIS

I think Dare’s pretty open to the idea of marriage! Especially if he were to find the right person, he’d definitely consider getting down on one knee and popping the question

He’d be hesitant, at least a little bit, no matter how perfect or awesome he thinks you are because he knows his life is a little complicated and he’s not too sure if he really wants to drag someone into that

Like it’s one thing to be dating somebody and have the wild lifestyle Darry has, working multiple jobs to take care of his brothers and looking out for the rest of the boys in the gang, but it’s a whole other thing to actually be married into that

When he does propose though, I’d bet a lot of money that he would use his mama’s old ring cause ya know, it’s got that big sentimental value to him

I don’t think he’d have a big flashy proposal or even a big flashy wedding, just something sort of subdued and private so it’s a big moment for the two of you mostly, not a moment for everyone else-

His best man would probably be Sodapop, I’m thinking probably, I just love the idea of the two of them standing next to each other at the end of the aisle  

SODAPOP CURTIS

Sodapop is incredibly pro-wedding, and I mean incredibly pro-wedding, he wants absolutely nothing more than to have a nice wedding and settle down with the one he loves

I’m talking like- y’all could be dating for two weeks at most and you just do something small and sweet like bring him lunch at work and this boy’s hearing wedding bells and making plans

He just really loves you ya know? He loves hard and he falls fast and from the moment he sees you for the first time, he can picture his whole life with you, I’m not even joking

If y’all remember Sandy, if you care about Sandy at all or don’t remember her, I don’t really know, but I think she’d have a big impact on how he looks at marriage, especially if you’re the first person he’s going with after her

Like he’d be absolutely head over heels for you, but he’d hold back a little more in the relationship because he doesn’t wanna be hurt like that again

The hesitation wouldn’t last long, because he’s Sodapop and he’s like that, but if something went wrong, he’d remember the Sandy drama and be a little concerned about your future 

PONYBOY CURTIS

Imma start off by saying that Ponyboy is honestly a little too young to be spending his time concerned about marriage and honestly probably doesn’t spend much time planning a future wedding

This boy has his head in the clouds most of the time or his nose tucked in a book so I doubt marriage his high on his priority list, but I think he’d want to get married eventually

Similar to Sodapop, Ponyboy’s quick to fall for someone, which is something he’s not proud of, but like- he can develop a crush in about two seconds flat and be hopelessly pining over you within an hour of seeing you for the first time

But, he’s not gonna start wedding planning until a long while, he’s less concerned with figuring out what kind of wedding you’re going to have and more concerned on trying to get you to go out to the movies with him on Friday night

And even though it’s a long way away, Ponyboy knows he’s not going to have a big deal wedding, it’s probably just going to be a small affair either in his hometown or yours

His side of the room is probably gonna be filled with greasers and a few school friends he’s made over the years, but ya know, either way, it’s gonna be a really sweet wedding and he’s gonna make it all soft and sweet <3 

DALLAS WINSTON

To those of you who are fans of Dally…well, I apologize, cause bein’ honest with y’all, marriage isn’t a high priority on this boy’s list-

You could be dating for a million years, living in the same place, falling asleep and waking up next to each other every day, and getting married wouldn’t probably ever cross his mind unless you said something about it

Dal’s not anti-marriage per se, he just doesn’t see the need for it, especially if things are going just fine between the two of you, ya know? Why risk what you’ve got for something you don’t really need?

Most of his hesitations come from a minor fear of commitment and also just a general lack of care for doing things the traditional way, but the commitment problems do play a part in that, he’s afraid of tying himself down and dragging you down with him

If you did get married? It’d be down at the courthouse with the boys watching over you, teasing you both mercilessly the whole time

Also! When he gets hauled in and you show up to bail him out, he will refer to you as if you were married because sometimes he likes to be an asshole and mess with the officers who’ve tossed him in jail

JOHNNY CADE

Getting married? With you? Yeah, he’d consider going out and getting married and stuff, but it’d take him a very, very, very long time to work up to it, not dragging his feet, just trying to figure out if it’s worth it 

Not ‘cause of you, just ‘cause he’s seen what can happen in marriages, look at literally everyone’s parents, and he’s worried about that becoming the two of you guys, he loves you too much for that to happen, ya know?

Also because he’s like- way nervous- the boys have to constantly tell him that they’re pretty confident you’re gonna say yes when Johnny pops the question (sometime in the far future folks, he’s just a child)

Ironically, it’ll probably be Dally that final gets through to him, Mr. Almost-Anti-Wedding himself, mostly because he’s tired of Johnny stressing himself over a proposal you’re probably definitely going to say yes to

So eventually, he might ask you, but it’s gonna be a real private proposal, just the two of you. And the wedding wouldn’t be anything fancy either, probably down to the courthouse with the rest of the folks and then going out to celebrate afterward at the Curtis household

He’d be a good husband, I think, because after all, what is the position of a husband but that of a glorified boyfriend?? Johnny is a great boyfriend! He’d be a good husband!

TWO-BIT MATHEWS

Despite the hot mess of his parent’s marriage, Two-Bit does wanna get married and I think he’d start thinking about marrying you from the get-go, I’m talking as soon as he laid eyes on you, he knew you two were gonna get hitched-

Does he have any sort of solid plan? Absolutely not. He just knows he’s head over heels for you and is willing to get married whenever you want to say yes to him

Like he’s regularly gonna ask you to marry him but it’s more in that way of, you did something nice and he looks at you with heart eyes and asks you to marry him

Two’d really love a white picket fence life I think, or at least, he’d think about settling down with you one day, coming home to you every night, waking up in the same bed as you every morning, maybe raising a few kids, having a dog or two-

He’s not in a real rush to get married though, as enthusiastic as he is about it, he’s willing to wait until whenever you wanna go and get married, though he might hit you with a promise ring at some point in the game

The wedding wouldn’t be anything too fancy, just your people and his people, all gathered together to become one big family, he’d probably have one of the boys as his best man and his little sister would definitely be your flower girl if she was young enough still when y’all got married 

STEVE RANDLE

Similar to Two-Bit, he doesn’t have great experience with marriage, Steve’s parent’s relationship is kind of rocky to say in the least and he doesn’t have a great foundation to base it on, but he’d love to get married

His biggest fear about being married to be honest, is turning into his father, but he knows, deep down that he’s not ever gonna end up like that guy 

The only thing stopping him from getting married is finding someone to get hitched to, ya know? But along came you and…well we all know you guys are gonna be endgame

Steve and Sodapop, out of all the boys, are definitely the most likely to be the youngest to get married, if they’ve found someone to marry, neither of them see any reason to delay it any longer?

I’m getting this mental image of you swinging by the DX to drop off lunch for Steve or something, maybe you just came by to say hi, and some guy had been eyeing you, asking Steve who you are, and Steve’s like “My future spouse, actually”

You’d have a nice little wedding, maybe just a courthouse affair, but it’d be real sweet and he’d clean up just for you, no grease or motor oil in sight, his hair combed back all swirly and stuff, he just looks real good

TIM SHEPARD

Now I’ve got tons of opinions about a married Tim Shepard, mostly because I’ve talked about a married Tim Shepard at length with a very dear friend of mine (hello to Sophie, one of my bestest buds)

But anyway, Tim would totally get married, just as long as he found someone worth getting married to, but it’d take him a while until he finally asks, he takes his time, takes it slow, and doesn’t really rush into it

Most of his hesitation is just his assumption that maybe you don’t wanna get married, or maybe you weren’t gonna stick around forever, and he’s real worried about pulling you into his world, worried that you’re not gonna like staying

Especially cause like- he knows he’s got it rough, he lives on the rougher side of town, runs a gang for crying out loud, he knows he can’t always give you everything that you might want, but he’d sure try, and he’d do whatever he could to make you happy

When you guys get hitched, Curly would be his best man, no doubt in my mind, and he’d have Angela on his side too if she isn’t already standing on your side of the ceremony

He doesn’t really want a big fancy ceremony or anything? Whatever you want is more than fine to him, he just wants to marry you, he doesn’t care how it happens as long as you’re happy with it 

CURLY SHEPARD

Curly’s one of the ones who everyone thought was never gonna get married and settle down with somebody, but from the second he started bringing you around, everyone knew it’d only be a matter of time before you two got married

He wasn’t too sure about getting married at first? Didn’t have any sort of attachment to the idea or plans for getting married, but he changed those plans when you two got together

Curl’s absolutely obsessed with you from the get-go and the first time Tim meets you, he knows that there’s going to be a wedding at some point for the two of you, everyone sees it coming

Again, his parent’s marriage kinda sucked, but Curly’s one for taking stuff his own way and he was determined not to screw up your marriage either, even though he knows not everything is going to be perfect

When you get married, it’s definitely not going to be anything big or fancy or anything, but it’s going to feel like a real special day because it is a real special day and I’m gonna be honest with you, you’re going have a great time with everyone there

Curly sees you for the first time and he cries, not full-out crying but his eyes tear up quite a bit and Tim teases him about it for the rest of his life because who knew such tough hoods were really softies?

[hotchfiles]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ❝ [CHOICELESS HOPE] ❞ — six. picket fence dream.

pairing: aaron hotchner x bau!reader. summary: the moment leading up to the kiss, the drumroll, is as good as the kiss itself. it's certainly more innocent. it's completely harmless. content warnings: canon divergent. emotional cheating (not on reader). angst. right person wrong time. it's confession time. no use of y/n. word count: 2k+ a/n: you might hate or love me let's see which is it

      Rossi doesn’t usually come to his apartment, especially with no warning on a Sunday, especially at 7AM, so when Hotch sees his less than pleased expression through the peep hole he knows it’s bad.

      “A crying drunk mumbling fucking mess. Porca miseria!” Dave wastes no time, the words finally free after hours of keeping them in.

      “Good morning to you too, Dave.”

      “Don’t. You know what you did.” Yes, Hotch knew. But he definitely didn’t expect this as the consequence. Still, he couldn’t even feign ignorance.

      “So, you took her ho—” Rossi’s eyes are piercing enough to interrupt him and force an exhale. “Thanks.”

      He is truly grateful, he is not usually one to act out like a child, much less one to leave people he cares about behind like that. You brought up his best and his worst. Much of his strength and thinking power went towards controlling himself. The rest got messy.

      “What are you going to do?”

      “Well, I’ll apologize tomo—”

      “Aaron!”

      “I don’t know. I just don’t. And Beth will be over with coffee in a bit.”

      Aaron watches his much too annoyed closest friend pour himself a sip of scotch, drinking it all in a mouthful.

      “You are throwing away a second chance people don’t normally get. Do you even know why?”

      Of course he knows why. There are many many whys.

      Jack needed the stability only someone out of this godforsaken job could give, and he adored Beth.

      Haley wasn’t an agent and he lost her, being with you was accepting the fact you could leave with him for a case and simply not come back. Essentially getting his son, his baby boy, a step mom that could be taken from him the same way as his mother.

      Beth gave Jack a bigger chance of not losing again.

      It gave him a bigger chance to rebuild his picket fence dream home.

      It was logical. It was the right choice.

      The feeling in the pit of his stomach and the bitter taste on his tongue shows disagreement with that every time he ponders though. And it’s hard to make the right choice when his body and soul begs him not to.

      Before he can even muster enough will power to argument his way out, Dave comes at him with more questions to shake his belief system to the core. “Is this about Haley? About Jack? Or are you really just incapable of letting yourself be happy?”

      Ouch.

      Rossi doesn’t pull any punches, Aaron knows that, it’s why they get along well, no sugarcoating. Doesn’t make it less annoying to deal with it so early in the morning. Especially after the hell night he had trying to sleep and being plagued by thoughts and worries of you.

      “If anything was to happen it would’ve happened before I met Beth.”

      “How could it when you are both idiots?” Aaron simply sighs, not having a good enough rebuttal to that.

      It was a true, he was an idiot, he could’ve gone after you when he got divorced, or after his grief got less painful. But back then he was angry, feeling abandoned by you when he would’ve never done the same to you.

      He begged you to not forget him, to call him. He waited, he called. It was all fruitless as you made your decision to take him out of your life already.

      Now it all seemed too complicated and to act on those feelings would complicate it even more.

      Aaron is saved by the bell, if anyone could consider hearing the knock on his door he knew to be Beth’s, one of the reasons of his internal conflict, being saved.

      At least Rossi leaves him alone for the time being, excusing himself as soon as the brunette enters the apartment with a quick peck to Aaron’s lips. Surely enough, Hotch has to tell her later that morning that no, Dave has nothing against her, he was just moody from being awake too early.

      Luckily most of the day is spent around Jack and what the wanted to do, making it more about spending time with his boy than a date, so he doesn’t have to focus too hard on being a good partner and on not thinking about you. But it’s all he thinks about when Beth leaves at night and he realizes morning come he will have to see you.

      Your eyes don’t meet his for even one second as Garcia presents the case and he knows it then how truly he fucked up. You aren’t angry. You look tired, not your face, not your eye bags. In fact you look as beautiful and put together as you always do, but in the glimpses he catches of your eyes as you talk to someone else, he sees it. And it breaks his heart. You are exhausted, not because of the job.

      Because of him. And the worst thing is, he can’t even leave you alone, being the Unit Chief meant having to talk to his team, it meant to lead. He sighs to himself as everybody gets out of the briefing room and he wants to brush his fingers against yours lightly like old times and make you smile, but most of all Aaron just wants to tell you how sorry he is that this is happening again.

      He can’t do that, knowing right now it would only make things worse, so he just gets up from his chair, grabs his go-bag from his office and follows the motion until everyone is in the jet. There he does his best to suppress what is going on his mind to focus on the case.

      Galena is a beautiful small town, quite romantic even, too bad it is now suffering with the abduction of two children, the case and the BAU disturbing its peace.

      And that disturbance goes well into the night, when no one is able to work anymore and Hotch has to call it a day, figuring out on the spot that Garcia had to book them in pairs, his key card the same number as yours.

      Hotch can imagine Garcia had someone influence her on the chosen pairs, Rossi was practically glowing with childish glee as everyone got their cards.

      Both you and him are too prideful and professional to make a scene asking to switch with someone. You were stuck with him until the case is resolved.

      The two single beds as you enter the room are a relief, but the distance between them aren’t nearly enough in comparison to how faraway from him you wished to be.

      “Just like the old days, huh?” He’s the first to speak, trying to break the tension as he spread the files of the case on the only desk available.

      “Don’t do that,” you reply quickly, your tone as tired as your eyes have been since the first time he saw you today.

      You drop your bag on the floor close to your bed, the loud noise startles Aaron, but you don’t care, body aching and ready for rest.

      “That what?”

      “Talking. Don’t talk to me,” you clarify. Another loud noise, your body dropping on the bed without ceremony. Eyes closed and focused on pretending he wasn’t there.

      He stays quiet for awhile and you think he might respect your request, so you relax in the clean sheets welcoming the slumber.

      Unfortunately for the two of you, now you are annoyed. So annoyed his shuffling around papers make your skin crawl.

      Just like the old days.

      The complete audacity to begin with that as if he didn’t abandon you drunk just two days before.

      You sigh deeply, putting a pillow over your face to try and muffle his annoying overwhelming presence.

      It doesn’t work.

      “God, please, breathe louder, I don’t think Japan has heard you yet,” you shoot at him, immediately sitting up and catching him working the case files.

      “You want me to stop breathing too, is that it?” He doesn’t look up from the papers, annoyed at the childish antics you’re pulling, which irritates you even more.

      “If you could be so kind to, yes!” Your voice is pure sarcasm and venom, reminding him of just how stubborn and strong-willed you can be.

      Just as he stops his writing, pen left to the desk, you get up in a hurry, attempting to go to the bathroom and ready to slam the door behind you. Hotch is quicker, getting up from his chair and grabbing your wrist to stop you from avoiding him even more.

      It doesn’t hurt. His grip is gentle and you know you can easily get away from it. But you don’t.

      “Hey, I’m sorry.” You nod at his apology, but he knows that won’t be all, so Aaron lets your wrist slip from his fingers and waits for the arguing he’s been avoiding to start.

      One beat.

      Two.

      Three beats pass before your mouth moves in sync with your drowning mind, “what exactly are you sorry about?”

      Right to the jugular from the start. He obviously instantly thinks of the easy answer: Everything. But that’s not the answer you’re looking for. Beyond that, he knows it would be unfair for both of you to gloss over the situation once again.

      You know Aaron isn’t stalling but actually thinking by the way his index and thumb rub together, his lips tightly pursued. Your stomach feels like it’s twirling, nervousness making an appearance now that this was about to happen. The talk. The admissions.

      Both of you are aware now shouldn’t be the time to talk it all over, there is a case to work, a hard day to rest from, but this is 10 years in the making. The flight response was already drained, only fight left.

      “I’m sorry for overstepping and turning our friendship into something confusing and uncomfortable,” he says slowly but firmly, but even so Aaron regrets his choice of words, more regret when he catches you rolling your eyes.

      “Confusing and uncomfortable, sure,” you reply with the same sarcasm you displayed earlier, your arms now crossed defensively over your chest, “I hope that’s not the best you’ve got.”

      “I’m trying here and I would appreciate a little less sarcasm.” His eyes are as piercing as his tone, you scoff at the manifestation of frustration, as if he had grounds for that right now.

      Your feet have a mind of their own and you start pacing around the room, “Hotchner, I changed my whole life around ten years ago for the sake of your comfort.” That wasn’t untrue, although it had a lot to do with your comfort as well, but he needed to be reminded of your sacrifices. “And the first opportunity you had to be a dick to me you not only took it but doubled down on it!”

      Hotch knows you are speaking about the gala and before he can control his tongue like he would in a time like this, " I got jealous! It took over me.”

      It’s good that he doesn’t expect that to stop you or take your breath away because if anything, you’re angrier now.

      “You have a girlfriend! You have no right to be jealous of me! You were married, Hotch! And I never did something like that to you.”

      “You left! I love you and you left,” he notices his mistake and quickly tries to recover, “I loved you. You’re back and I don’t know what’s the right thing to do.”

      He sits at the edge of his chosen bed, elbows to his knees, hands to his face and you finally stop on your heels, not knowing how to react to the confession you both have been denying yourselves from speaking out loud.

      You swallow dry, sitting on the edge of your bed, right in front of him.

      “I loveーI loved you too.” Your hands find home on his knees and his drop to hold them.

      “l don’t know what to do. I want to do the right thing.” He sounds pained and you have to fight that desperate lover girl in your mind begging you to tell him to choose you.

      “I can’t help you with that,” it’s what you actually end up saying, “I’m sorry.”

      “I’m sorry too.”

[lotomber]

Heyyy!

I am not sure if this is similar to things you've written before but I would love to read a chuuya x femreader smut yandere fic with the concept I love you so much, so much that I cant help but hurt you. (Something like Akito and Shigure s relationship from Fruits basket)

A/N- Hii I'm not sure if this is what you were looking for but I do hope you enjoy it!

Twisted love!

Pairing: Yan! Chuuya x Fem reader!

Warning: Nsfw, manipulation, obsessive behavior, unhealthy relationship, mdni, lmk if I missed anything, not proof read!

You loved chuuya, you really do love him a lot but he was too possessive and he broke all the lines when he tried to lock you up. So you broke up and left him. It wasn't easy but you had to do it. Just like that a month went by without seeing him and it was the start of your misfortunes. You failed in your college finals but you knew you did well in your exams so that couldn't have been possible, even when you tried to talk to your professors you were just disregarded by them. You were also fired from your part time job. When you asked your friends for help they all started to ignore you. No one was even willing to listen to you, It hurted a lot, you were just left alone but you didn't even had time to cry as you struggled to find a job. As if that all wasn't enough your landlord also kicked you out of your apartment saying that the property has been sold. You were just flabbergasted cause how could he just sell the apartment without giving you a prior warning? He said that nothing could be done now he already sold it cause he needed money and that your term of lease was about to expire either way. Just like that you were on streets with no where else to go. And by no means you had money to stay at a hotel. So he was your only option left now, if possible you never wanted to go to him, You even thought about returning to your parents home but they lived very far away and you didn't wanted to worry them. You really didn't wanted to go to Chuuya but you couldn't care less about your pride now cause you were just desperate. You went to his penthouse and rang the bell, some minutes later the gingerhead opened the door and looked surprised to see you but what surprised him even more was the luggage you had by your side.

" Chuuya I....I." As if sensing your hesitation "First come in then we'll talk, you look cold." You were honestly expecting him to be angry at you but he just looked calm as you came in.

"Chuuya I...Can I stay here for a day or two? Actually my landlord kicked me out so I need a place to stay. I promise I'll leave as soon as I find another place to stay!" You were starting to get nervous as you looked pleadingly at him.

"Hey calm down! It's okay you can stay for as long as you want, I don't mind it. And if you want should I talk to your landlord?, after all how could he just kick you out!" He just looked affectionately at you just as he used to.

"It's no use I already talked to him besides he already sold the apartment."

"But are you okay?" It was just a simple question but it made your heart ache, for the past month you've been struggling still no one bothered to ask it. But Chuuya just looked worried for you even when you were the one who left him. You couldn't control it anymore and broke down in tears.

"Hey it's okay I'm here! please don't cry. If you want to talk I'm here okay? You can tell me what happened." He embraced you and gently patted your back to help you calm down. Your head was on his chest so you didn't notice the smirk he had on his face. After some time you stopped crying and then you told him everything that happened from crashing your finals till losing your job and he just listened to you, soothing you whenever you choke in tears waiting for you to finish.

"I'm really sorry such things happened to you but I'm sure it's gonna be okay and I'll help you so don't worry and please don't cry it breaks my heart to see you like this. And umm I..I don't know if I should say this right now but y'know after you left I've been reflecting on myself everyday and although it's late I still want to apologize to you." Now that you took a closer look at him there were dark bags under his eyes and he himself looked a bit stressed.

"I'm really sorry! But can you please give one more chance? Just one and I promise I won't do anything to disappoint you anymore." There was a genuine look on his face, you couldn't help but give in to him as you pulled him in a kiss. Your lips pressed against each other, as your faces flushed with desire and emotion. You would be lying if you said you didn't miss him, his lips, his touch instead you craved it. Not holding back anymore he pulls you in for a long, deep kiss, one full of passion, as if he was holding back for so long. You gasp for breath and wrap your arms around him tighter, pulling him closer for more. His hand slowly slid in your shirt groping your breast as you let out a low moan in his mouth. He quickly picked you up, unbuttoning your shirt as he took you to bedroom. He threw you on the bed gently before removing his own shirt. Oh how you missed it, his calloused but gentle hands on your body as he kisses you. He moves to your neck gently nibbling, leaving dark red love bites on your sensitive skin as he removes your bra. You couldn't help but moan as he gently kneads your tit pinching your erect nipple a bit hard as he kisses your collar bone before moving his mouth on your titty. Swirling his tongue on your nipples sucking and nibbling it. He moves downwards kissing your stomach as he proceeds lower. He removes your jeans, seeing the wet pool in your panties.

"Tch are you that desperate for me darling?" He chuckles as he removes your panties before sliding two digits in your wet cunt. " looks like you don't need much prep" He unbuckles his belt removing his trousers and boxers freeing his already hard cock. He strokes his cock a bit before aligning it on your entrance. He rubs his tip on your wet folds making you whimper.

"Mmm Chuuya please I want you!"

He slowly thrusts in you allowing you to adjust a bit before increasing his pace as your moans got louder.

"Ahh hngh~ Chuu.. ahh fast more." He increased his pace at an animalistic pace thrusting deep in your gummy walls. "Chuu mm~ I'm close...ahh please don't stop." He grunts as you clench him a bit harder cumming on his cock. His thrusts get sloppy as he also cums after you. He rubs gently on your sides to help you calm from your high before pulling out. Then he brings out towel from the closet to clean up the mess. Soon after you fell asleep in his arms, as he kissed your forehead smirking.

All because of the emotional distress you forgot the real reason you left him and if you thought that he would just let you go so easily then you were utterly wrong. You never once doubted how all these things happened only after you left him. Afterall he was the one who bribed the professors, threatened your friends to stay away from you, made you lose job and bought that apartment. He doesn't care if it hurts you or not as long as he can have you back.

"Darling if you won't let me lock you up then I'll just have to make sure you come back to me after all I love you so much."

[natasha-in-space]

CW: emotional abuse, implied past child abuse.

Had a bad day, needed some comfort for myself, so here's some Saeran hurt/comfort for those of us who are struggling with complicated feelings on their parents. I debated posting this one, but I know I'm far from the only one dealing with these feelings, so I hope this can be of some comfort to others, too. Not proof-read, so I'm sorry for any mistakes, repeated words or misspellings!

Saeran always greeted you at the door with open arms, a genuine, warm smile on his face a happy twinkle in his eyes. It was like coming home to a beaming puppy. Today wasn't any different. Despite the cold biting your cheeks and seeping into your very bones, he didn't hesitate to pull you into his chest and pepper your freezing cheeks with gentle kisses.

You probably shouldn't have expected anything less for him. Moreover, you could smell the scent of fresh baked goods waffling in to greet you, reminding you that you were home.

"Welcome back," Saeran murmured with a smile as he pulled back from you, his hands reaching down to take yours and rub his fingers over your cold palms, warming them up. "I baked us some chocolate muffins, your favorite. Saeyoung should come by later with decorations. He said he finally finished on that space-themed fairy lights you two have been cooking up."

After the day you've had, this kind of straightforward, sincere happiness and affection felt almost alien. You weren't one for getting emotional, but you were kind of starting to feel choked up.

"Right... I forgot," you confessed, giving him a small, nervous smile that was hopefully genuine enough to not worry him too much. You didn't want to ruin Christmas preparations for these brothers just because of your voes. "Thanks for the muffins. They smell heavenly. As always."

...Though you lacked the usual appetite for them.

Saeran smiled at you gently, moving to help you out of your coat and winter hat, which you let him, turning around to make the job easier for him.

"Just wanted to see you smile."

Once you were free from the confines of stuffy winter clothing, just your jeans and sweater to keep you warm, he pulled you back in close to his chest, nuzzling your temple.

"I may have made a little accident while baking because I was rushing to get them done for your arrival. But you’re worth the trouble. You always are."

...Alright, he wasn't at all helping you with keeping your years at bay, saying things like that.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and tried your hardest not to burst into tears right then and there. This wasn't really like you. You weren't some fragile soul to go and cry over such simple things. But, after the earlier events of today... his undemanding affection was just a bit too much for you to handle.

"Not... everyone seems to think that."

You cursed yourself as soon as these quiet words left your lips. Great, now you brought it up. You should have just smiled and thanked him. He already did so much for you.

You felt his arms tighten around you ever so slightly in response, clear alarm bells going off behind his eyes. He was always unfairly perceptive when it came to you, after all.

"...Who?" He asked, his own voice quiet and gentle as he searched for the answer in your eyes. You almost wished he would be a little more assertive. Not so careful and tender. That would make it easier to hold back the floodgates of emotions that were crumbling at the seams. "What happened today, my love?"

The question made you grimace, and you looked away. Not because you didn't trust him, but just... everything, really. Well, there's no going back now. Not that you wanted to. Even if you felt kind of shitty, whining about your problems like this.

"It's..."

As you came to terms with the notion that you would simply have to tell him what had happened, you let out a long sigh and slumped your shoulders. So, you did just that.

"I visited my mother today to help her with decorating, remember? She had trouble doing it by herself, so... Yeah. Well... I guess even one small visit can't go right. She asked me to walk her dog, so I agreed. But she didn’t like the coat I chose to wear, said it was too light for the cold. And when I insisted that I'll be fine, and I know what I'm comfortable with wearing, she just... blew up at me. You know, how she usually does. Screamed at me that I'm ungrateful and self-centered, that I can't even do a single thing right, and that she won't be asking me to do anything for her ever again, because I'm so unreliable. At least she didn't throw anything at me, so... that's a plus, I guess."

You knew your joke didn't land. You knew that without seeing his gloomy eyes. You were just trying to joke over your pain. Like you always did. Sometimes, you could almost forget just how cruel and hurtful your mother could be. Up until instances like this just brought you back into your childhood all over again, only with your body being bigger now. You let out another sigh.

"...I hate that I'm a grown-ass adult, and I still feel like a bad, ungrateful kid for wearing a wrong coat. It's so stupid. I'm stupid."

When you're finished speaking, Saeran lets out a little trembling breath and leans in to kiss your forehead. He then releases one of your hands to give your back a little comforting rub. You welcomed that tender comfort. Despite the fact that it made you want to cry more.

"You're not stupid," he said quietly but firmly, before pressing another lingering kiss to your cheek. "And you don't deserve to be yelled at or called all those things. Not for something so small. Not for anything."

With a sigh, he drew you a little closer to him, and you did as he urged, placing your head on his chest. His hold felt almost protective. There was a small pause, before he spoke again, his words careful and measured.

"Sweetheart... can you tell my why you still visit her? I know you love your mother, trust me, I know, but she's... still so unfairly awful to you. I want to see you come home with a smile on your face and a new silly joke to tell. Not so quiet and closed off, like you've done something wrong. She doesn't deserve you extending her an olive branch, when she's not willing to do the same for you."

"-That's the thing, Saeran," you whispered brokingly, leaning into him. You've given up attempting to contain your tears, simply allowing them to fall freely. God, you hated crying. Particularly over this kind of thing. "She isn't cruel. Not anymore, at least. She can be kind. Understanding. I can almost forget everything that... you know, happened before. That she's changed. But then something like this happens, and she treats me like I'm the most selfish and horrid person alive for not immediately switching a coat per her request. And... It's like nothing ever changed. And I hate it."

"My love..." Saeran whispered, his own voice a bit hoarse with the pain he felt for you in this moment. You felt bad for making him sad. His other hand came up to caress your head in gentle, soothing strokes. "You don't deserve to always have the rug ripped from under your feet. You don't deserve to feel hurt like this."

As you stood there, pushed together in a close hug of security and comfort, he sighed again and laid his head on your shoulder.

"...Not by your mom. She is supposed to be someone who loves you and cares for you. Someone who makes you feel safe and wanted. That's... what you told me before, right?"

"...I guess I keep hoping I might feel that one day," you muttered, the words feeling bitter on your tongue. "Well, she did want me to feel safe, I guess. Because I would be cold in that coat or whatever. Though... Maybe I'm giving her too much credit here, too. It was never about me. It was about her not getting her way and being unable to control me. Which is... fucking worse."

You sniffled, a new wave of tears forming right after the latter. You were a mess.

"I'd... rather have her yell at me because she'd worried about me than because I didn't listen."

At least then, in some strange, perverse manner, you would feel somewhat loved.

Saeran winced at that, his minty blue eyes swimming with pain that reflected your own. You were, after all, most likely reflecting something he also thought to himself once. Your pain was a shared one. Just that his mother was long gone, while yours... not so much.

"Oh, MC..." He pulled you in flush against himself, a slight tremor to his fingers as they clutched at you. Some part of you wanted to apologize. By saying all of this, you could very likely trigger some really painful memories for him. That was the last thing you would want. "You know I'd never raise my voice at you, even if you were to walk out in nothing but your shorts and a t-shirt. I'd just run after you and keep you warm. Neither would Saeyoung. Or anyone who truly cares about you. And we do care about you. So much. You shouldn't be made to feel selfish for making a decision for yourself..."

Your shoulders slumped again as you sighed.

"...I know. You're right."

It's absolutely pitiful. The way you were still falling back on justifying it. As if it would be better if she did that for any other purpose. It's not like Saeran would ever yell at you for dressing too lightly. Nor would he turn it into you somehow being entitled and selfish. And yet, you were actively weaseling through every loophole to make this whole thing justifiable. When it wasn't. It never was. However, there was a part of you that wanted to think it was. Just so you could pretend that your mother cared more than she ever did.

You despised that aspect of yourself.

As he maintained eye contact with you, Saeran pursed his lips, lightly sweeping a few hairs from your forehead. You knew he understood. Unfortunately. You wished he wouldn't. You wouldn't wish this cruel dichotomy on your worst enemy, much less someone you love so much.

"...We'll decorate tomorrow, okay?" Before you could protest, he cut you off with a gentle squeeze to your shoulders. "I'll let Saeyoung know you had a bad day. You can talk when he comes over, if you want. Let's just... rest for today, okay? Eat muffins, watch some documentary, go out to watch the stars later... How does that sound, my love?"

You mustered out a weak smile. It wasn't a completely joyful smile, but it was sincere. You weren't ready for that yet. You had to tend to this new wound in your heart for the time being. Perhaps the company of your two favorite people was a good way to start that.

"Okay. Thank you."

Saeran smiled at you, too, softly.

"Always."

[ash5monster01]

could I request some randall floyd angst…

Why You?

Pairing: Randall ‘Pink’ Floyd x FemReader

Warnings: angst, lots of arguing, heavy sarcasm, misguided hatred, admitting feelings, fluff

Summary: Everyone held Pink up on some high pedestal, worshipping him as a King of the school. It was your job to knock him down a peg.

word count: 2k

Masterlist

The roll of your eyes is so heavy nearly no one misses it. Especially Pink who instantly shoots a glare your way. It was silly how instantly you were annoyed by him, him simply showing up late to the study hall where you sat amongst all your shared friends. They all jokingly cheered when he had finally made an appearance but you found no reason to applaud. Pink was just another guy no matter what all your friends thought.

“Nice to see you too Angel” Pink smirks at you, slinking into the only open seat by your side. You scowl at the nickname, him only calling you that since you acted anything but.

“Give him a break” Cynthia whispers in your ear and you sigh, plastering on a fake smile as you look at the boy.

“Nice to see you to Pink, how’s your day?” the sarcasm is heavy, dripping like venom from your tongue and Cynthia instantly has her head in her hands.

“It’s delightful Angel, will be even better when I see you at O’Bannion’s party tonight” his overly nice voice reacts to your own. You roll your eyes again before looking to Cynthia and Mike who had definitely blabbed. Tony wouldn’t blow you in like that.

“Good luck with that” you say as the bell the rings, the boy having nearly missed the entire period from whatever dilly dallying he had done. You don’t give him a chance to respond as you collect your books and start for the parking lot, eager to leave this school.

“I don’t understand why you don’t like him, he’s done nothing to you” Cynthia says catching up with and you sigh, fixing the bag on your shoulder as you continue down the hall.

“He’s annoying. All proud and cocky just because he’s some football star. All of you look at him like he hand created earth and personally I prefer to worship a different kind of higher being” you explain and Cynthia chuckles, shaking her head as she looks at you. After a few dates with Wooderson she had really come out of her shell. A little less afraid to tell you what she thinks.

“It’s not that. We look at him like that because he’s the nicest guy. He’s friends with everyone and genuinely cares about each of us. That includes you” she tells you, almost amused how you don’t see it. That Pink was as loved as he was for just being a good guy. That was something you were not used too.

“Whatever, I’ll see you at 7” is all you say before shoving your sunglasses onto your face and disappearing into the flurry of students on their way to their vehicles.

Cynthia sees you again at 7 o’clock sharp, standing on the curb, features illuminated by the glow of the joint pressed between your fingers. When you spot her you take one that final hit of the roach before dropping it to the cement and stomping it out. She one day wished to be as cool as you. Which was funny because you didn’t think you were cool, not even the slightest, especially as you slid into Cynthia’s car to attend a party you didn’t even want to in the first place.

“What, no Tony or Mike?” you ask, eyes a little hazed and relaxed smile on your face. Cynthia wished you could be this version of you around Pink. Not so tense and worked up. This was the version of you that had come to be her best friend.

“They caught a ride with Pink” you roll your eyes, a common notion at the mention of the long haired boy and Cynthia just chuckles. So stubborn.

“Whatever, I need a drink. Lets go” you tell her, dropping your lighter back into your bag and turning to radio up on a Lynryd Skynryd song.

The party is in full blast when you arrive, bodies of students littering the yard and clearly stuffy house. It looks like the last place you want to be but the idea of an alcohol strong enough to get you through the night being in that very kitchen was encouragement enough. So you step out of Cynthia’s car anyway and stalk towards it, the heavy music getting louder and louder with each step. More and more familiar faces waving and smiling.

“Hey I see Wooderson, I’ll be right back” Cynthia calls, smile wide and you don’t even fight it. Even if she’s left you alone it clearly makes her happy to be pursued by an older guy.

“Okay, I’ll grab us some drinks” you call back but she’s already halfway across the yard in the direction of Wooderson and Slater who share a heavy a joint. You just shake your head in amusement and duck inside the home.

Navigating the sea of bodies is difficult, especially when you’re not entirely sure where you’re going. Finally after two wrong turns you’re welcomed to a kitchen with an island covered in various liquors and a punch bowl that was guaranteed to be lethal. The only bodies were a few boys surrounding the kegs along the wall so you’re quick to help yourself. Actually a touch excited to let loose and have this moment just to yourself.

“Here, let me” the familiar voice makes you scowl. The warmth of his body to close in your space, the loose blue shirt unbuttoned one to many, and long brown hair bouncing softly.

“I can handle myself” you tell him, side stepping and continuing to mix your drinks as you had intended. Pink just chuckles, shaking his own head at you.

“Nothing I do will be good enough for you huh?” the question has caught you off guard, freezing under his stare as you bring one of the finished drinks to your lips and taking a much needed sip.

“I don’t know what you want from me Pink, so what one person doesn’t like you?” You tell him with the shake of your head, setting the cup down as you deem the drink consumable.

“Yeah but that one person is you!” he states, exasperated and annoyance run thin towards you. It brings you to look him in the eye, shocked he was actually losing his temper with you for once. You wonder what his words mean, why it made any difference at all.

“Look Pink, go out there and enjoy the high life. You’re the king of the school, you might’ve already peaked, so enjoy it while you can” your words are mean and the way he winces makes guilt swirl in your stomach.

“That’s the very thing Angel, I don’t want to peak. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life saying these were the best years of my life. I’ve done nothing but try to be your friend and it’s killing me” he says, stepping closer and facing you. In this proximity the height difference is noticeable. Pink didn’t always look like a football star but his size would surprise you when you least expected.

“Why? Why do we need to be friends? You’re friends with literally everyone else. I’m nothing special” you argue back and Pink groans, actually annoyed with how fucking oblivious you were.

“Because Angel, I like you. I like that you’re stubborn and I like that you do your own thing. I wish I was cool enough to go against everything I knew and still be acknowledged for it. I especially like when you make snide comments at me and it makes me want to kiss the scowl straight off your face!” he rants, determined to make you get it. To finally push some sense through that thick skull of yours. You tense at his words, never would you have expected Pink to be into you.

“So you’re telling me that I’ve done nothing but treat you like shit for years and instead of hating me, you’re into me?” you ask, a little baffled and trying to reel your thoughts in. It’s not like you thought Pink was ugly, in fact you’ve had to remove your stare quite a few times. Yet even you couldn’t explain your distaste towards him. Then that’s when it hits you, that all this anger directed toward him had been you trying to ignore your attraction. You were embarrassed for being just like everyone else and falling head over heels for Randall Floyd.

“Yeah Angel, gonna harass me for that one too?” he asks, seeing the thoughts flashing behind your eyes. Clearly gears were turning, trying to comprehend and react accordingly. Yet he had broken your normally quick witted brain. Struggling you’re unsure what to say or even do, until you shock you both.

A shaky hand grasps the blue shirt on his form, tugging him close and going against everything you stand for. Pinks eyes widen as you lift on your toes and seal your lips against his own. What’s the most surprising is how it isn’t weird, in fact it feels normal. Especially the way heat pools in your stomach and urges you to kiss him more. Just when his hands lift to hold you close, you’re pulling back, eyes blinking and trying to decide if that had been the best move. Your hand is still gripped on his shirt while Pink stays silent.

“I think I finally discovered an effective way to shut you up” you finally say, breaking the heavy silence between you both and Pink snorts. Your smile wide as you look at him wearing a smile that matches his own. He never thought there’d be a day you finally would smile at him like that.

“Does this mean you’re not gonna be mean to me anymore?” he curiously asks and you roll your eyes, yet this time it’s in a loving way. Now he could get used to that.

“That I can’t guarantee, but I would like to kiss you again” your honestly shocks him but he removes your hand from his shirt and takes it into his own anyway.

“Then let’s get out of here, I only came to this damn party because I heard you were going to be here” he tells you and you blush, feeling like a fool when not so long ago you rued his existence.

“And what do we tell our friends?” you ask and Pink smirks, clearly devious and unashamed. Whether it embarrassed you or not, he finally got what he wanted.

“The truth, that you can’t keep your hands off me so we have to go somewhere a little less crowded” and with your free hand you hit him softly, but he continues to grin.

“I think that’s the other way around Mr. I like everything about you” you mock and he laughs, pulling you close. You almost hate how nice this is, not hating him for once. Cynthia was right and now you could only hope you wouldn’t screw this up.

“At least I’m not embarrassed about it” he whispers, face close enough you could kiss him just as easily as before. His arms slowly snaking around your waist as your palm lands on the bareness of his chest. It’s makes butterflies ignite in your stomach.

“Now this is not what I was expecting to see” Tony’s voice breaks your attention off each other. You’re red in an instant but Pink won’t let you step away, holding you flush against him and proud of it.

“Angel isn’t feeling good, I’m going to drive her home” yet the look on Pinks face says anything but the excuse he had just given. Cynthia and the others standing behind Tony entirely amused.

“I told him I could walk, this is kidnap” but the squeeze to your side has you jumping at the ticklish touch and sealing your lips closed.

“The delusion has already set in, we better go” and he gives no one any more room to talk as he drags you out of the house and towards his El Camino. When you’re both shut inside all he does his smile before sliding across the front seat.

“You’re something else” you mutter just before he seals his lips against your own.

[rand0mfangurlstuff]

I'll Look After You Part 2 - Bucky x Y/N

First part here: https://www.tumblr.com/rand0mfangurlstuff/745510955233034240/ill-look-after-you-bucky-x-yn?source=share

Y/N woke up that morning with a terrible creak in her neck. She was in a awkward and uncomfortable possition. When she first woke up she thought she was in her own bed, but this hard uncomfotrable sufrace was not her bed. She slowly opened her eyes; before she could fully take in her surroundings she heard a familiar deep voice 'Morning Sleeping Beauty' she shot up like she had just been electrocuted. John 'Bucky' Egan looked at her with a smirk that she was certain made many a poor woman weak in the knees. She did her best to compose herself, act like she intended to fall asleep next to him. 'Morning, How'd you sleep?' she asked. 'Like a baby in his mothers arms.' He smiled that devilish smile again. 'I'm glad. A bit more rest and you should be in the air in no time.' His expression changed. It was softer now. 'Thank you, for staying with me.' She smiled, she could see he meant it. But she had to try her best and be professional. 'Don't mention it. Just doing my job.' It was then he switched back. It was like he was too different people. There was John; kind, honest, almost shy. Then there was Bucky; all cocky bravado and over-confident. He smirked, 'You sleep next to all your patients?' 'I'll do whatever I need to to make sure my patients get the best care.' She decided the best thing to do was to act natural and unfased. He was clearly goading her, she could see it in his eyes. She needed to reistablish the Nurse/Patient dynamic once again to regain control of the situation. She proceeded to check his vitals while asking him basic medical questions. The more she talked, the less he could.

'How's the pain?' She asked while checking his pulse. 'Fine. I'm totally fine.' 'Oh really? That's good. I'll let the doctor know. He'll examine you and if he sees you're fit for duty you'll be out of here by lunch time.' She knew he was not fit for duty. She just wanted to get him to stop this bravado act. Made everything a lot simpler. 'Sit up for me.' He tried, and tried even harder not to seem in pain, but as soon as Bucky tried to sit up straight in the bed, he winced in pain and fell back against the pillows. 'I uh, I guess I'm still a bit sore.' 'Major it's best if you be honest with us about your condition it's the only way we can make sure you are healing properly.' 'Yes Nurse.' There was a sudden tension in the air. She could feel that he wasnt pleased. Wither it be because he had to stay in the infirmary, or because she wasnt playing his game with him, she wasnt sure. 'I should go freshen up before rounds. If you need anything just ring the bell, one of the other nurses will help you.' He smiled, he looked a little hurt by her leaving, but he quickly turned on the 'Bucky' charm to hide it. 'I'll see you later Nurse Y/N, Will there be another sleepover? Dont forget your pajamas this time!' He said with a wink. She ignored him, walking away to get something to eat.

Bucky was confused. Last night she had been so kind to him. More than kind, she showed him more care than he had recieved in a long time. But this morning, it was like a different person. She was so stern with him, cold even. He couldnt understand what on earth he had done to make her change? Was she really only helping him last night because it was her job? Sure that was obviously part of it, but it felt like more to him. Was she ashamed that she let herself be in a vulnerable position with him? He would never hurt her. His teasing earlier was just that, teasing. Maybe even a little bit of flirting. Was that the problem? Was she taken? Had some lucky bastard already claimed her as his? There were no rings on her finger, but she still might belong to someone. Bucky sat contemplating, wondering what he would have to do to see her smile as she did lastnight.

The evening came again and she found herself back in the infirmary to relieve the day nurse, Barbara. Barbara was a nice woman, a little older, warm and friendly to the other staff but known to be very strict to the patients. Timing was everything to Barbara. When it was time to eat, she made those patients eat. When it was time to do physical exercise, those men better get out of bed faster than if the Nazi's were shooting at them. Y/N came to the nurses station as Barbara was finishing paperwork. 'They've all had their evening meals and I did their vitals half hour ago. One soldier in particular was very dissapointed to see me at his bedside and not you.' 'Why? Who?' 'Major Egan. He kept asking were you on shift today and when you would be back. Something to tell me?' Y/N blushed, wishing Major Egan and his blue eyes would leave the infirmary already. 'I don't know why he'd care if I was working or not.' She lied. 'I'd say it would have something to do with your little sleepover last night.' 'He told you?!' Forget the infirmary, he was going to the morgue. 'No he didnt, one of the other patients did. Saw you fast asleep on his way to the bathroom.' 'Oh, well he was having trouble sleeping so -' 'They all have trouble sleeping. Their soldiers in a war.' Y/N felt like she was being scolded. 'I'm sorry I just-' 'No need to be sorry, just be careful. I hear he has a reputation.' With that Barbara put on her coat and left for the evening.

She was here. He heard her sweet voice pass by his cubicle. He was suddenly angry at that other nurse for closing the curtain around his bed, preventing him from seeing her. He knew she would be coming to see him eventually, but waiting for that moment was almost more excruciating than his ribs. He felt his eyes tire, but he fought hard to stay awake. Firsty, because of those horrible nightmares, secondly, because he had to see her again. Had to make sure she knew he wasnt just some cocky pilot. Show her the nice Bucky.

It was 1am. As much as she didnt want to, she had to go check on Major Egan. She got to his cubicle and gently pulled back the curtain, expecting him to be asleep by now. But there he was, wide awake. His tired eyes seemed to gain a bit of extra sparkle when he saw her. 'Good Evening Nurse Y/N' she smiled. 'Major Egan you -' 'Bucky' he interrupted her. Confused she said, 'What Major?' 'I told you last night to call me Bucky, remember? You said it was cool.' That made her giggle involuntarily 'I did say that, didn't I? Must have been sleep deprived.' He dramaticly laid a hand over his chest 'Oh wow, that hurt worse than the ribs.' She came closer to him, to take his vitals. It was difficult though when his blue eyes were staring at her like she was a fresh bunch of daisys.

'Everything looks good, you need anything? Any pain meds?' she said with a gentle smile as she released his wrist from her grasp. 'I'm fine Nurse Y/N, thank you.' She turned to leave, and Bucky almost begged her not to. As she walked away from his cubicle she said 'Get some sleep Bucky, it's good for you.' 'Will do Nurse Y/N' just as she was outside his cubicle, she turned on her heel and said 'It's just Y/N. If you're just Bucky, I'm just Y/N.' He smiled, a smile that he felt all through him, 'Okay then. Goodnight Y/N.' 'Goodnight Bucky.'

He tried to sleep, and actually did for a while. He was lost in dreams of Jay Gatsby and Daisy, then dreams of her. Her smiling face. Then his dreams turned sour. Suddenly Y/N was no longer smiling at him. Instead she was crying while being dragged away by Nazis. Planes crashed around him. There were flames everywhere. He could feel the heat on his skin, he was burning. He was dying. 'Bucky! Bucky its okay! Shh.. you're safe.' He woke as he did the night before. Her arms around him, her wispering in his ear. He was covered in sweat and his heart felt like it was going to explode. She started to rub the hair and the nape of his neck, all the while still talking to him in that sweet, caring voice. 'You're okay Bucky. You're in the infirmary. Nobody's going to hurt you.' He managed to calm his breathing enought to let out a quiet 'I'm sorry.' She unwrapped herself from him, sitting on the edge of his bed. 'Don't be sorry. It's a nightmare, you cant help it.' Bucky scoffed 'I'm like a damn kid again. Pathetic.' She grabbed his hand. 'I dont see a kid, and I definitely dont see someone I would call 'pathetic'. You've been through a terrible ordeal, you risk your life on a daily basis. It's normal for what you've been through to affect you. I see a brave soldier, fighting for his country. There is nothing pathetic about that.' She looked to the nightstand to the book she had been reading him, 'The Great Gatsby'. A good book by all accounts, but Bucky had read it so many times now he was getting tired of it. He would however listen to the story a thousand times if she was the one reading it to him. Without a word, she picked up the book to the page on which she had bent the corner. Bucky protested 'You don't have to...' 'I need to know how it ends!' She said with a smile. She began to read again, her soft melodic voice like angles calling him to heaven.

[dannystattoo]

august

chapter 1 - "i can see us lost in the memory"

you didn't plan on spending your summer fixing up your family's old cabin, but you also didn't plan on reconnecting with your childhood crush for the summer. based on august by taylor swift

Pairing: Danny Wagner x fem reader

Warnings:  Some language, but that's about it

Spending the summer after your senior year of college helping maintain your grandparents’ cabin was not what you’d anticipated upon graduating. While you wouldn’t say you were ready to tackle job hunting just yet, you would have preferred to have at least been able to stay in the college town with all of your friends for a couple more months. You’d have loved to at least have a last hurrah before you all inevitably moved on to whatever was next. Life had a way of happening though. Your grandfather passed away in the winter and a lot had changed. Your grandma wasn’t able to live on her own, so she had moved in with your family for the time being. Your parents were also trying to figure out what to do with the cabin your grandparents had purchased decades ago. It was your grandpa’s pride and joy, and he would never let anyone sell it even if he’d barely been able to use it in the last few years. The rest of your family, grandma included, couldn’t care less about keeping the property in the family, Since you and your siblings all moved out of the house and didn’t have the opportunity to visit much anymore, they decided it was best to sell the house. However, it needed a lot of TLC before it could go on the market and you’d gotten roped into spending your summer taking care of the property. You cursed yourself for learning so many DIY skills in college when your friends had insisted on renting the shittiest house possible your sophomore year, as well as for being the golden child who couldn’t draw boundaries with your parents no matter how hard you tried. 

…and that was how you found yourself looking around this house, wondering how the hell you were going to have it ready to list by August, in three months. Your dad offered to come up and help when he could on weekends and you did have a list of contractors your grandparents had previously used who could help with the things you weren’t able to do, but you were mostly on your own. You tried to remind yourself that his would give you the opportunity to save up some money since you weren’t paying rent and your family would be paying you for your work on the house. This would also give you time to polish your resume and work on perfecting your design portfolio, hopefully allowing you to move somewhere better than the sleepy midwest town you grew up in or the slightly less sleepy city you went to college in. Your ultimate goal was New York City, but you were aiming for Chicago right now. All things considered, though, the thought of a summer spent more or less by yourself doing a stupid amount of manual labor made the thought of living in the city in cramped apartment with multiple roommates and eating ramen for every meal sound appealing. 

It had probably been about five years since you’d spent any sizable amount of time here, and that was around the same time your family started doing the bare minimum maintenance on the place. They’d also done the bare minimum when it came to cleaning, so you spent the entire morning making one of the bedrooms and one of the bathrooms clean and comfortable enough to get you through the first few days. Once you finished that, you started trying to make a game plan, but you became overwhelmed pretty quickly. Realizing it was nearing one in the afternoon, you decided to drive into town, pick up some fast food and take a break. You weren’t able to find much, but there was a Taco Bell within a reasonable driving distance. You returned home with your Nachos Bell Grande and a massive Baja Blast, hoping that would push you to have a productive evening. It was a beautiful day out, so you took you lunch out to the dock. The gate that led down to the water’s edge was a bit rusted and hard to open, but once you got it, you remembered why you loved coming here so much as a kid. Admittedly, once you looked past the state of the house and the yard, it was gorgeous out here. You were steps away from the lake, which had a tiny private sandy beach at its edge. Trees and plants in full bloom surrounded the lake, and you always loved the glow of the sun off the water. You told yourself that if you got through a clearing the clutter in the rooms you, your siblings, and cousins had shared as kids that day, you’d reward yourself with a glass of wine and a night spent on the patio with your designs. The change in scenery was inspiring you in a way you hadn’t expected. Looking at the nearby houses, you tried to remember all the kids you’d met here over the years. They were all fleeting friendships, lasting for only one week in the summer over the 4th of July and picking up the next year, depending on who returned and when. You’d met these kids well before social media, and you had no idea what happened to any of them after losing contact. You start thinking about them, wondering where life had taken everyone after those golden summers. 

Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t notice that someone had appeared from the cabin next-door and they were walking down towards the water. 

“I had no idea they sold this place,” the voice said as it came up behind you. Startled, you turned around to see a man approaching you. He looked like he was about your age, maybe slightly older. You could tell from his tan skin he probably spent a lot of time outside, giving the impression of someone else who might be spending the summer here. Based on appearances alone, that was something you could get on board with. You couldn’t overlook the fact he was gorgeous - you were immediately drawn to his intense eyes and radiant smile, and the fact his was absolutely ripped didn’t hurt matters.

“Because they didn’t,” you laughed. “Granted, it’s barely been used in at least five years, but yeah, haven’t sold yet.”

“Well that’s good, I always like the people who lived here.”

“You knew them?” you were taken by surprise. 

“Oh yeah, my family owns the place next door. I’m Danny, by the way.”

“Y/N,” you said. The longer you looked at him, you began to think he looked vaguely familiar. “This is gonna sound weird, but we’ve met before haven’t we?”

“You have two older sisters and your family was always here the week of the 4th of July, right?”

“Yeah. You have a younger sister and you were also always here for the 4th of July?” As Dnny confirmed this, it all came flooding back to you. 

He was part of the group of about a dozen of you who lived on this street that you’d just been thinking about. He was, in fact, a few years older than you, but you seemed to remember his younger sister was around your age. You also remembered you’d had a hugely embarrassing crush on Danny that resurfaced every year. God, you’d forgotten about him completely, as it had been ten years since you’d seen him, more since you’d seen him with any sort of regularity at the cabin. You remembered it all with clarity now. 

He was three years older than you, and by the time you were eleven and he was fourteen, he started hanging out with the group less and less. Fair enough, he was a teenager, but it didn’t hurt any less. You’d always thought he was cute and he was the only boy in the group who was always nice to you. Looking back, he treated you like a little sister, but you didn’t see it that way then. You remembered the summer you were twelve and he was fifteen when he and another one of the older girls in the group stopped hanging out with you as frequently, only showing up at events where the entire family was present. You’d been devastated when you’d accidentally stumbled upon them making out in her room at a barbecue you’d all been at. By the next summer, you were convinced that because you were thirteen and a full fledged teenager, he’d finally be interested in you. Much to your dismay, he hadn’t even come up north that year, opting to stay home in order to spend more with his friends instead. It was only a couple more years before you stopped spending long stints there in the summer. You realized how much you’d forgotten about your time here.

“So what brings you back?” Danny’s question brought you back from your nostalgia. 

“Well, my grandpa passed away over the winter -“ 

“Oh shit, i’m sorry.”

“Thank you. It wasn’t unexpected, but still. Anyway, my family is actually planning to sell now and I somehow got roped into coming out here for the summer to fix it up and get it ready to put on the market. You live in one shitty house that forces you to learn handy skills and they use it against your for the rest of your life,” you laughed.

“What, by yourself?”

“Not entirely, my dad is coming up to help me out when he can and we will need to hire people to do some of the more complicated projects. But yeah, mostly.” You were kicking yourself the moment you said it. Way to go, Y/N, you thought to yourself. You don’t know the first thing about this guy anymore and he could be a crazed serial killer for all you knew. 

“Anyway, I could ask you the same thing,” you shifted the attention back to him.

“Honestly, I don’t know. Getting away, I guess? I’ve been so stuck with work lately and I thought a change of scenery might be good. Don’t ask why my first inclination was to come here, but it was.”

“By yourself?”

“For now. Three of my friends, more like my brothers actually, are planning to come up in a few weeks and spend most of the summer. They may be going back and forth between here and home a bit more than me though.”

“Where do you live?”

“Nashville.” 

“That’s so cool, I unfortunately didn’t get to go far for college and I was so lucky to move back to my hometown in Michigan after graduation. I’m hoping to save up some money over the summer so I can start looking to move. Enough about me, what is it you do for work?” You were intrigued when he said he was “uninspired”, wondering if he did something creative too.

“Uh, musician,” he said running  his hand through his dark curls. You could tell he assumed you’d react a certain way.

“No shit, that’s sick! What kind of music?”

“I’m in a rock band, drummer. I know it probably sounds kind of lame, but we’ve actually released a few single, and EP, and we just got a contract for our first full record. As exciting as all of that is, I’m having a hell of a time getting anything written to contribute to it. Decided I’d come here for a little bit first by myself, and then the guys are gonna join me in a couple weeks. I thought maybe getting out of the city would help. Plus the lease on my place was up last week and the house I’m set to move into isn’t available September 1st.”

“Well, I don’t think that’s lame at all. I’m trying to break into design, so I kind of get it.”

“Oh really, what kind?”

“My dream would be fashion, it was my main area of focus in school, but I’ve also been building by graphic design portfolio to have something more ‘practical’, as my parents would say.”

“I get that, I’m sure you can imagine my parents were just thrilled when I said I had no desire to go to college right after graduating high school.”

“Sounds like you’re doing great anyway,” you shrugged. You guys talked comfortably for quite a bit longer, catching up on the past ten years. It was nice to have found a friend so early on, at least you hoped you’d found a friend. Danny was so easy to talk to and you felt an effortless connection, even if you hadn’t seen him in a literal decade. Eventually, you picked up your phone, sitting abandoned on the table, and you didn’t like the time.

“Oh god, how is it already three? I’m so sorry, but I should probably go, I have so much work to do,”

“Honey, you have all summer,” Danny said. You wouldn’t admit that your stomach flipped when he called you that. Fuck, were you attracted to him now, still? 

“You’re right, but you have no idea how much I have to do.”

“Can I help with anything? I know I didn’t come here for home renovation projects, but you could persuade me, I think.” 

“I would actually really appreciate that, if only for the company. Tell you what, my main goal for the day was to start cleaning out some of the bedrooms, if you’d want to help? When we make some good progress, maybe we can grab dinner? Like I said, even if it’s just for the company and an accountability buddy.”

“I’d love that. Honestly, I’ve only been here like two days and I’m going insane in my own company. I was so hung up on the idea of taking a solitary trip to work that I forgot I’m an extrovert.” You smiled at him, grabbed your Taco Bell remains, and led him into the house.

“Not to be rude, but you weren’t kidding,” Danny said, looking around the house. 

 “Yeah, it’s so, so bad. We’ve hardly been up here since like, 2017, what with life and school and work, and that was around the time my grandparents weren’t able to come up here by themselves anymore. I think my parents did just enough maintenance so that the neighbors wouldn’t lose their minds.” 

“Gives me an excuse to offer my services around here a lot then?” 

“I think that sounds perfect,” you smiled, leading Danny to the bedroom you and your sisters shared years ago. Before you could stop yourself, you caught yourself thinking that you’d love to be taking him back to your room under much different circumstances. You couldn’t believe that you were down bad for this guy yet again, hours after seeing him for the first time in a decade.

To be continued

[kakujis]

ghost in the machine;

ft: bonten!mikey. pt 2 of this post.

warnings: afab!reader, pet names (baby, good girl), praise, reader is terrified of mikey LOL but warms up pretty fast, minor angst, pining, not implied kaku x reader, hes just mentioned cus i love him. 

wc: 2.2k

a/n:i couldn’t get this song out of my head after i heard it and i thought it fit bonten!mikey so well. he’s so sad. TnT. i really wanted to write pt 2 of mikey’s part also, so this is purrfect!! may be a bit ooc, but idc. soft bonten!mikey ftw!!! this almost stayed sfw but i am nothing but a wh*re. a one track mind. anyways. soft… this is so soft. please love hims. ):

mikey has seen it all before, how could he not, when he holds the world in his hands? when one single command could ruin someone’s life, could set destruction wherever he wanted. each day comes and goes, routine settling deep in his bones. there’s no spark behind his eyes, hollow and empty. but he’s pretty like a seashell, fragility hiding behind the dark shadow of himself. 

mikey didn’t think much when you were hired, wasn’t sure why he hired you anyway. but takeomi had insisted, have a pretty girl to take some of the burden off. but you ended up becoming less of his secretary and more of bonten’s secretary. and he found himself getting attached watching you flit around the headquarters like some maid. “ran, do you need help with that?” or “i’ll take the paperwork, don’t worry, kokonoi!” or “could someone please bring a warm tea up to mochi’s office?” 

you maneuvered your way into all of them, gentle touches and even gentler wordings ringing in their ears like a song. you were available, physically and maybe sometimes emotionally, but you stayed at arm’s length and mikey knew why. simply put, you were afraid. afraid of getting too close, afraid that you were disposable like the random grunts who pissed haru off. but you were especially afraid of mikey, all of them would kill or order someone to be killed without a single hesitation, but who did they bow down to? their king, who they all followed dutifully. high above the king reigned supreme, and who were you but a simple pawn? 

so you decided to drown in the work mikey gave you, heart hammering whenever he came too close. you needed this job, you needed to sustain yourself, you didn’t want to run back home, no you couldn’t run back home. even if you wanted to, you couldn’t put anyone you cared about in danger, not your parents nor your friends, knowing you stayed just a few feet away from the most dangerous men in Japan.

you had finished your work for today, finally done going through hours of mind-numbing paperwork. mikey had asked you to stay in late tonight and you had done just that, scrolling mindlessly on your phone waiting for your boss to come back. a means to distract yourself, since you loathed when it was just the two of you. that’s why you ran around the building like mad for other members that didn’t ignite your fight or flight. you hated the way your hands trembled when the door opened, automatically opening your texts with kakucho, not like he would come to your aid if you asked, never one to disobey his boss.

with the click of a lock, your stomach was flipping in waves, little alarm bells ringing through your brain and the grip on your phone became a little bit tighter. you could see him in your peripheral, the same expression as always, soulless, desolate, empty. sighing, he walked over to your desk, white locks falling by his eyes. there’s something on his mind as he reaches your desk, picking up some of your things, little trinkets you had gotten one day when ran mentioned how empty your desk was. he turns them in his hand, one by one, looking them over before setting them down. 

“s-so,” you start, cutting through the silence, voice already shaky. “what’d you need from me, boss?” your hands start to move, one smoothing over your thigh, the other clicking the lock screen button on your phone repeatedly. 

he doesn’t respond, instead sauntering to the couch and plopping down. he motions you over, two fingers up curled on his right hand, and you obey, slowly and shakily moving over. you sit opposite of him, trying to keep a good distance. if he’s upset by it, you can’t tell, dark eyes staring at you. 

“i’m lonely.” he states, eyes trailing over you. your heart pounds at what he could be inferring, there’s no way, right? he’s never made a move on you before, it’s always been strictly business, besides he’s had you make dozens of calls to satisfy his urges before. 

“oh! do you want me to make a call? i think, um, i think one of your girls should be free tonight, no?” you open your phone, contact: kakucho still visible on the top of your screen. are you alright? it reads, not realizing you had sent a text earlier, i’m scared. 

he’s fast, snatching the device from your hands and throwing it to the floor, theres a few clacks as it bounces away. “i don’t want em.” you’re trembling, chest heaving, as he’s the closest he’s ever been, leaning into you as you try to back away. your body reacts on its own, shrinking down into the plush cushions. you brace yourself, waiting for him to start grasping at your clothes, but he doesn’t. 

instead, one hand wraps around your wrist and gently tugs, “could.. you pretend you’re not scared of me? just for tonight?” his voice is so soft, whispery, and the hand around your wrist shakes lightly, like he’s the one who’s cornered.

you blink at him, there’s something in his eyes. something desperate and lonely, something that begs you to say yes. it melts away at your shaky core. just for tonight. you nod before adding, “i’ll try.” 

he moves closer still and you steady yourself, deep breaths to make sure you don’t flinch. “just pretend i’m kakucho or somethin’,” he mumbles, sinking his face into the crook of your neck. you blush, it’s not like you were into kakucho, he just made you feel comfortable. 

you’re still unsure what tonight will actually lead to, but you find yourself relaxing slightly in his arms. maybe it’s because you don’t have to do anything but stay there, in the embrace of a broken king.

“can i kiss you?” he asks, lips grazing your neck. 

“where?” you gulp, a hint of that cruddy feeling in your stomach, clammy hands fiddling with the fabric of his shirt. 

“here,” he breathes, pausing at your pulse-point. 

you mull it over, but just for a moment, before you mumble out a shaky, “okay.” 

he presses down and the kiss is soft, slow, and sweet. each time you anticipate that there will be something more, something harsh or heavy, there never is. every time he moves he asks again, “is it okay here?” and you say yes, over and over, as many times as he wants. 

eventually, your hands stop trembling with fear, but want. each time his lips hover over a new spot you find yourself breathing out a yes before he even asks. one of your absent minded hands card through the tresses of his hair, as he moves a hand to the top button of your dress shirt. 

“can i?” he asks, glancing up at you, a red tint on his cheeks. when you nod he seems to relax a bit as he slowly unbuttons your top revealing your bra underneath.

his hands ghost your exposed skin and you blush under his burning gaze. “you’re so beautiful.” his hands continue trailing, stopping at your waistband. “can-“ 

“yes,” you breathe, “you can.” it comes with an air of finality, the essence of letting go of your fear in return for what you desire. behind those cold, coal eyes, you think you see a spark, a dimly lit fire in the darkness of his soul. 

he’s a little bit faster, only slightly, wanting to relish in the way you’re under him as he slips the rest of your clothing off, slick cunt on display. you react to every touch, a whimper escaping your lips when he flits his fingers over your clit. 

he leans down, pressing his lips to yours. it’s tender, deep, and needy. he keeps kissing you as he slips one finger in, the gasp from your mouth allowing him to slip his tongue in. he inserts another, loving the way you arch up into him, messy tongues sliding over each other. he groans into you, feeling the way your needy cunt is already twitching on him, scissoring you open for later. 

“mikey..” you sigh in between kisses, drool running down the side of your mouth, “please,” grinding your hips into his hand. he pulls his hand out to undress himself and you whine, trying to find something to grind onto. he thinks you’re a greedy little thing, but it’s better than when you shy away from him, much better in fact. 

when he’s done, he hooks your legs up around his waist, giving his leaky cock a few pumps. he scans your face one more time as he lines up with your entrance, waiting to see if you’d tell him to stop. he would if you wanted him to, but you give no indication, instead watching his cock with pretty, wanting eyes. 

like before, he’s slow as he pushes in, the tightness of your pussy around his cock has his mind spinning. for you, it’s a little uncomfortable, the stretch being something you never get used to no matter who it is, but the gentleness and earlier prep has you melting into him. as he bottoms out, hips flush with yours, he presses his forehead to yours before leaning in for another kiss. 

he stills for a bit, eyes shut, savoring the feel of your wet, tight cunt. how long has he wanted you? if he thinks about it, probably since the day he met you. 

“mikey?” you ask, and he snaps his eyes open. you’re so pretty, he thinks, as even prettier words leave your mouth. “p-please fuck me already.” 

you mewl into him as he starts to move, steady rolls of his hips into yours sending jolts of pleasure throughout your body. he pants as he glances down, watching your greedy hole suck him in. 

“you feel so good,” he groans, “like you were fucking made for me.” using a particular harsh slam to punctuate his sentence.

your toes curl as the wet slap of skin reverberates throughout the room, before you’re putting your arms around him to tug him close, nails digging into his back. 

“you close, baby? gonna cum for me?” he murmurs into your ear, feeling you clench down on him. “you like that? you wanna be mine? want me to fill you up everyday, so everyone knows whose pussy this belongs to?”  he’s rambling now, eyes squeezed shut as your tight cunt continues to twitch on his cock. 

“yeah,” you babble back, his cock hitting your sweet spot over and over, “‘m wanna be yours, want you to fuck me everyday,” he’s so deep and fills you up so well, you can’t help but want this. “f-fuck, mikey, i’m cumming!” you gasp, clamping down and creaming all over him, body shaking as you whimper into his neck to ride out your high. 

“good girl,” he groans, “such a good job, baby.” it’s sort of dream-like for him, the way you moan and whine as he fucks you makes him want to keep going. but the continuous twitch of your walls has his hips stuttering out as he fills you up, hot white ropes of seed washing over your walls. he collapses on you, head buried in your neck, wrapping his arms snugly around you. 

its quiet as the two of you bask in the afterglow, save for the ring of your phone. you peek over and squeak, trying to move mikey off of you, “ah, it’s kakucho, he’s-“ 

mikey places a finger on your lips, brows knit with a pout on his face as he presses hard down on you to keep you in place. it’s foreign to see your boss look so childlike, but it’s pretty cute, your heart fluttering at the sight. “you didn’t pretend earlier, so you’re not allowed to mention him now.” he grumbles, and you tilt your head to the side wondering what he’s talking about. 

“just pretend i’m kakucho or somethin’”. 

“o-oh,” you stammer when the realization hits. “right.” you stare at the ceiling, wondering how you ended up in such a predicament, not too long ago you couldn’t even be within the same room as him without panicking. now, you’re in his arms, skin to skin with his seed inside you, your cheek resting on his head. you don’t notice the absentminded stroke of your hand on the small of his back. 

but mikey does and is once again struck by how someone as gentle as you wormed their way into the worst crime syndicate. he’s not sure if it’s love, but it’s probably something close. he’s like putty in your arms, unwilling and unable to pull out, even as you shift your legs to find a comfier position. 

“let me stay here,” he mumbles, drowsiness taking over his limbs. “just for tonight, you can hate me again tomorrow.” but you know it’s not just for tonight anymore. there will be tomorrow night or maybe it’ll be next week, but you know you’ll find yourself in his arms again.

“i never…” you mumble, frowning, you want to say you’ve never hated him. you were just afraid, but the words don’t come out stuck on your tongue. 

“don’t worry about it.” he yawns and you nod, it’s so different right now. you’re afraid to say anymore and ruin the atmosphere. 

mikey has seen it all, but he thinks that the view of you is the best he's seen. it’s quiet again and he stays on you, in you, as the gentle rise of your chest lulls him to sleep. 

[allzelemonz]

Dirty Rat: Micah Bell X Male Reader

Pronouns: None Mentioned, Reader referred to as ‘boy’, ‘man’, and ‘mister’ Physical Sex: AMAB Rating: E/Smut, Language Warnings: Micah Bell is his own warning, unestablished relationship, handjob, sex in water, sex in a lake, washing/bath, mild dirty talk Summary: Some of the men in camp don’t listen when Miss Grimshaw tells them to bathe. She asks you for some help in making sure they are somewhat clean.

Helping Pearson is a roulette. Whoever gets stuck with it is the unlucky one that has to listen to him tell his Navy stories and gripe about how the vegetables need to be cut evenly. Today that is you and you are closer to cutting his fingers off than ever before. It seems that no matter how you do it, it’s wrong to the old sailor. He takes pride in his work, nothing wrong with that, but it’s getting on your nerves when coupled with the heat of the day and the looming threat of Pinkertons. So when you’re done, you walk away fast.

“Mister, could I have a moment of your time.” Miss Grimshaw stops you before you get very far.

You take a breath, not wanting to lose your temper in front of the woman that keeps everyone’s shit together. “Yes, Miss Grimshaw. You need something?”

“Sorry to disturb you.” She folds her hand in front of her. “I was hoping you could speak to a few of the men for me.”

Your face twists into confusion. “Why?”

“They tend to listen to a man better than a woman it seems.” She sighs. “They are gettin’ too filthy to stand. They need baths and you seem to manage to wash yourself well enough.”

“You want me to handle that?” You ask.

“Just a few ‘a the boys that I missed.” She waves her hand dismissively. “The more stubborn ones.”

“Who are the stubborn ones?” You ask, rubbing your eyes.

“Mister Macguire, Mister Marston, and Mister Bell.”

You can’t help but laugh a little. “Sean? I might be able to get Sean, but John and Micah?”

“I can only mother ‘em so much, I think they need another young man to tell ‘em.”

You shake your head. “I don’t know, Miss Grimshaw.”

“You cannot tell me you wouldn’t appreciate them lookin’ a little more clean.”

A heat comes over you. “Now, Miss, I-”

She raises her hand to silence you. “I expect those boys to be clean by tomorrow, or I will be speakin’ with Dutch about that train job he’s been plannin’. I think he will find that he needs one less gun than he thinks.”

You bite the inside of your mouth, thinking. You like train jobs. Everyone likes train jobs. “Fine.” You say. “I will speak with them, Miss Grimshaw.”

“Clean.” She warns. “By tomorrow.”

She walks off towards the campfire, leaving you to wonder how to go about this. You decide to start with Sean, he’ll be the easiest to convince when you remind him that people are much more likely to be attracted to him when he’s clean. It works, the beers help. He wastes no time and jumps straight into the lake, clothes and all. No soap, but better than nothing. John is next. After some deliberation you opt to trick him, leading him to the lake with a story about a baby-eating monster that only a gullible John would believe before pushing him in and throwing him a bar of Strauss’ homemade soap. He tries to leave, but you manage to push him back into the water until he stays put and sheds some of his clothes to clean himself. You leave him be, asking Abigail to keep an eye on him. She gladly does.

Lastly is Micah. He is a generally greasy man, but you can see what Miss Grimshaw means when you catch him by the scout fire. His hair is so dirty that it looks brown rather than the usual blond and you can barely make out the ever-present dark circles under his eyes compared with the dirt on his face. He doesn’t seem to care as he sits and sharpens his knife like he always does.

“Hello, Mister Bell.” You say, sitting across the fire.

He mumbles your name in greeting, focus still on his knife.

“I will be truthful with you.” You sigh. “Miss Grimshaw is making me convince a few of the men to bathe.”

He looks up at you, peering from under his hat. He’s stopped sharpening the knife and sits very still. You feel the silent threat he puts in the air and it sends a shiver up your spine.

“She’s gonna make Dutch take me off the train job if you don’t.” You take a somewhat shaky breath. “I’m usually the one covering you, you wanna get shot?”

Micah shakes his head, chuckling darkly. “Oh, I’ll do it, cowpoke. If ya come with me.”

Confusion comes over your face. “What?”

Micah puts his knife and sharpener away, leaning forward in his seat. “Ya heard me.”

The smirk on his face is wicked and his face is lit up by the fire in an accentuating glow. Your muscles are tense and your stare fixes itself on the fire. You really want to go on this train job and if Miss Grimshaw gets far enough into Dutch’s ear, you’ll never have a chance. Micah is an asshole, a sleazy one at that, especially now. But damn if he’s not attractive, damn if seeing him spin his guns around doesn’t make something pool in the pit of your stomach.

“Fine.” You nod, coughing to hide the slight waver in your voice. “Fine.”

Micah stands, the glow from the fire leaving his face as he walks towards the lake. “Come on then, cowpoke.”

You feel the hitch in your breath and the tightness in your stomach as the details hit you. Micah, lake, bath, general lack of at least a few articles of clothing. You stand, legs a little shaky, and follow Micah down to the lake. It’s a spot most people use for bathing because it’s out mostly out of sight from camp but not so far away that you might be caught off guard by outsiders and there’s not so many fish.

Micah stops at the shoreline, his hands resting on his gun belt and his eyes raking over you. “You first.”

You meet his eyes for a second, unable to hold it with the embarrassment. You look out to the water and shake your head. “It’s you that needs it.”

“You ain’t got the power here, cowpoke.” Micah says, rocking on his feet. “I ain’t doin’ anything without a little show for my troubles.”

Shivers fill your body when you watch his eyes roam over it. It’s not a bad shiver, but not quite a good one. Micah is unnerving, handsome, but unnerving. You take strained breaths, working up some nerve. “I’m not putting on a show.”

Micah walks towards you, stopping just a few inches away. “What if I help ya?”

He reaches out and knocks your hat off of your head. It falls behind you on the ground with a soft thump. Micah returns his hand to his belt and stands relaxed, waiting for an answer. Your eyes jump around as you think, then you nod and it takes Micah less than a second to step in and bring his hands up to unbutton your shirt. You stand still, heart beating so much you’re surprised he can’t feel it. When his fingers brush against your bare skin you can’t help but to look up at his face. He’s focused, watching every inch of skin he reveals in taking off your clothes.

Micah glances up and catches your eyes, that wicked smirk coming back to his face. “I ain’t the only one wantin’ this, am I?” He leans in close enough to whisper. “I seen you stare, cowpoke. Ain’t nothing ta be ashamed of.”

He dips his head and presses a featherlight kiss to your neck that makes the shivers return in greater numbers. Your hands timidly go to his shirt, undoing the buttons as he presses more kisses along your neck. It’s not long before Micah fumbles with the fastening of his pants, the last thing separating you. You dig the soap out of your pocket as he does. When you turn to face him you let your eyes run over every inch that you’ve never seen. He seems to be doing the same with you as he comes close and takes the soap from your hand. You follow him to the lake, still feeling the intense beat of your heart as the water reaches above your waist.

“Do what ya came here ta do, cowpoke.” Micah whispers, pressing the soap back into your hand.

You hold the soap in your hand for a second, staring at it, still baffled by what exactly is happening. Micah traces his hand over your bicep, watching you closely. You slowly press the soap in your hand, getting enough of it to use. Then you start with his hair, trying not to look at his face because your knees might give out if you do. You use your hands to scoop water over his head and scrub the dirt out. He watches your every move, only closing his eyes momentarily to avoid the soap. You scrub until his hair looks blond again, then move to his face. You’re less nervous now, having the task to distract you from the other details. Micah’s face is what you’d expect of an experienced gunslinger. He has deep scars and years of wear and tear that fail to overshadow his handsome features. You pay close attention to his facial hair, making sure it’s just as free of dirt and returns to the same blond as the hair on his head.

Micah reaches up and grabs your wrist, making you freeze as you remember the details. He moves your hand down, making room for him to lean in and press his lips to yours. His freshly cleaned mustache brushes against your skin and he comes closer, pressing his body against yours. Your dick twitches when you feel his own brush against it. Micah’s hand reaches down between you, wrapping his hand around you.

“Ya better finish yer job before I’m done.” He whispers against your lips as his hand gives a gentle squeeze.

You have to lean on him to stay standing when he starts, running his thumb over the tip. Once he starts a slow pace you’re able to gather a single thought. You grip the soap bar as if your life depends on it and straighten up. You run the soap over his chest, trying to focus on getting the dirt off. Micah’s hand picks up the pace and he chuckles when you stumble a bit, leaning on him again for support. A sound escapes your mouth and you bury your face in his shoulder to stop from making any more.

“Look at ya, comin’ undone this easy.” He whispers. “How many times have you thought about this, huh?”

You squeeze your eyes shut, burying your face further into his neck as he adds a slight twist to his motions.

Micah chuckles darkly, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. “I bat ya think about it every night, huh, cowpoke.”

“Micah.” You breathe against his skin. “Shit, Micah.”

He continues his motions as you release into the water, only stopping when your breathing evens out again. The soap in your hand is crushed, deep indents where your fingers are with very little left to the bar. Micah holds you steady for a moment before he takes it from you.

“Go get dressed.” He whispers, running a hand down your back. “I ain’t done.”

He lightly pushes you back and you stand on your own, watching him run the soap over himself for a moment before you follow his instructions and return to the shore. Your legs are shaky as you gather your things, your pants are particularly hard to pull on. You ignore the splashing sounds as Micah comes out of the water and reaches for his clothes. Your hands fumble with your gun belt when he comes up behind you. He turns you around and fastens it for you, already fully dressed.

“I been waitin’ fer this, cowpoke.” He says, pressing a kiss to your lips. “Ya ain’t disappointed so far.”

He reaches down and grabs your hat from the ground. His other hand grips at the fabric of your shirt and pulls you along, walking towards your tent. Your legs are willed by the promise of what’s to come despite the shakiness you still feel in every step. Not only did you complete Miss Grimshaw’s task, you got much more than you thought you would.

[bleachcakes]

My self Indulgence Writing 👍 uh Karen Jones X Oc

It had seemed like a good idea at the time, really. It was simple work, robbing desperate, drunk men. They see a pretty young woman, such as Karen, and they fall head over heels with a bit of eyelash batting. Stupid fools. Feed ‘em some whiskey and suggest, “why don’t we go get a room somewhere…” and they’ll fall right into your hands. Honestly, it was like taking candy from a baby. It almost made her feel bad sometimes. Almost. Until she remembered they only ever follow her because she’s pretty. Because she promises them sex and good times.

Townsmen would never spare her a glance if she couldn't flaunt her ‘feminine wiles’, which must be why Grimshaws such a hag, Karen mused. That woman never got much attention now that she was out of her prime. Karen supposed it suited her, always making them do the menial chores. She and the other girls had to sneak around the woman just so they could pester Uncle to take them into Valentine for a bit of fun. Arthur hitched a ride too, which was nice. He always made Karen feel a little more seen in camp. Arthur was a good man. Not like those slobs, Bill or Micah, the sleazy bastards.

Robbing drunk men looking to get their dick wet wasn’t much of ‘real’ outlaw work in Karen’s mind, but it was the job she could do, and she did it well. One day she’d like to be more out there. Robbing stagecoaches, jumping on trains, killing O’Driscoll’s like she was a woman outta hell. One day. Today was another day of snaking cash out of stupid men.

This one was a little different. He didn’t want a room. He wanted something ‘interesting and rugged’. This drunk freak wanted to get laid out in the woods like he was hiding from disapproving parents. It took a lot in her for Karen not to laugh right in his face at the notion. Instead, she grinned and tilted her body forward so her chest was on full display to the man’s unsubtle ogling. “Sure honey, that sounds like fun,” she said.

Woodland robbery might even be easier than hotel robbery. In a hotel, you have to worry about others hearing the ruckus and calling the lawman. It’s not good to get caught stealing in the middle of town, with too many people, too many eyes, and far too many guns that could stick you up with. It was a rush, knowing the danger. However, considering Karen and the rest of the camp were supposed to be trying to keep a low profile, it might be better to take a less ‘guns blazing’ approach. As long as they steered somewhere secluded, there would be no trouble. It was the wild, after all. Plenty of people could have come by and robbed the man of everything but his knickers. Even if someone saw her leaving with the man, she could fabricate a story that she was also robbed.

It was an extra risk not having her own horse to ride out on. It would be harder to get away if something went south. She figured she could nab the man’s horse easily, at least. She was a real gentle beast, probably used to being ridden under the influence of all the drink the man took. Maybe she’d even take it back to camp once she was done with it. Kieran would take good care of her, a nice Turkoman. She could give some company to Old Belle.

Karen absentmindedly ran her fingers softly over the horse’s side. It whinnied softly and Karen frowned. Maybe she would let the girl go instead. Give her a chance to run free for a while, maybe get back to the roots of those wild horses roaming the plains. Karen wished she could do the same. Damn ‘low profile’.

“There,” Karen said. The man, whose name Karen couldn’t be bothered to remember, pulled the horse to a stop on the trail and followed Karen’s point with his eyes. Carefully, he led them into the pointed-out spot, navigating his horse through the thicket and into the woods. The trees cut them off from the view of the trail, a nice covering for the planned deed.

It seemed like a good idea at the time, really. Karen wasn’t a damsel in distress, she could handle herself. It just so happened that sometimes other people could handle her better.

“Fuck!” Karen grunted as she tumbled to the ground. The force of the man’s punch had completely knocked her from her feet, pain and shock briefly short-circuiting her brain. Her gun flew from her hands, hiding itself away among the shrubbery.

“Tryna rob me?” The man snarled. “Are you trying to rob me?” The man snarled but dressed down to his Long John’s, he wasn’t quite as intimidating as he could have been.

“Not tryna’, am,” Karen shot back, her busted lip curling into a sneer that dripped blood onto her teeth and settled an iron tang over her tongue. She picked herself up from the ground and charged the man. She knew he didn’t have his weapon, and now that she didn’t either, things were going to end in a tussle.

Karen rammed her body against the man, her shoulder jutting up to knock his chin. Karen’s shoulder jutted up and knocked the man’s chin, causing his teeth to rattle and clack together as his head was thrown back. He swayed on his feet and Karen returned the favor of a punch, planting her fist into his stomach. The man doubled over with pain, Karen smirking in triumph. She kicked at his knees, dropping him to the ground. “Dumb bastard, yer gonna pay.”

She reached toward his head, poised to render him unconscious with a single blow. The man still had some fight left in him, however. His adrenaline kicked up, and he shot forward. The man’s hands grasped for a hold on Karen to steady himself, but his momentum was too much. His weight throws them both back, and the man lands on top of Karen. Karen’s lungs spasm from the force and she feels the wind get knocked from her. She wheezes for a moment, struggling to breathe.

The man, realizing his newfound advantage, acts on his rage. He strikes Karen again, his knuckles digging into her cheek. Karen winced, bringing her hands to try to push the man off. Pain was blossoming over her face and she knew she’d have a mighty bruise the next day. If she lived to the next day.

“Get off- get off!” A slight gurgle cut the rest of Karen’s shouts off as the man’s hands circled Karen’s neck. His thumbs pressed against the side of her throat, pushing the veins in with a painful sensation. Karen’s eyes bugged out as her oxygen depleted. All she could see above her was the filthy dog panting in her face. Karen clawed at the hands around her neck, but they didn’t let up. She was going to die. Karen Jones, scammer extraordinaire, the outlaw firecracker, was going to die to a damn dog in his skivvy’s. What a way to go, Karen thought bitterly, hacking another wet gasp as she tried to fill her lungs with air.

BLAM.

Karen blinked, wet, hot blood splattered her face. Karen’s mouth dropped wide, taking in as much air as possible. She sat up, staring at the slumped-over man whose head now more closely resembled a melon a horse had stomped on. She gazed at it momentarily, the familiar view almost a fond memory, before finding the source of her saving grace bullet.

She noticed the horse first. A grand beast, a shire likely given its massive size. Its coat was dark and shiny, and its white main fell into neatly done braids. Safe to say it was beautiful, unlike anything she had ever seen. The rider matched the magnificence of her horse.

Her horse, Karen realized instantly with a blink.

The woman slowly lowered her rifle, apparently satisfied that the man she had shot wasn’t going to get back up. The woman turned it up, holding it in one hand as she looked down at Karen. She sported a cropped hairdo, shorter than anything Karen had ever seen on a woman. It gave attention to the woman’s face, a patchwork of freckles and scars. The red frown of the woman’s lips gently curled upwards, bringing a shine to her eyes as the woman carefully dismounted her horse.

She carried her rifle in one hand, pulling off her hat with the other as she approached Karen like a wounded animal. “You okay, Miss?” The woman greeted pleasantly, her eyebrows raising.

Karen swallowed thickly, getting to her feet, quick to brush off what dirt she could from her clothes and skin. “Ah- y-yes. Thank you,” Karen added, nodding to the woman. “You really saved me there.”

“ ‘course,” the woman responded nonchalantly. Now that she was closer, Karen could see the woman’s eyes were green. Green like the surrounding leaves, like she had sprung from the ground just to be Karen’s personal angel.

“Miss?” the woman said, tilting her head to give Karen an odd look.

Karen blinked, realizing the woman must have been speaking. “Sorry, uhm, still a little shaken up. My mind wandered for a moment.”

The woman nodded, offering up another kindhearted smile. Karen watched as the woman retrieved a handkerchief from her coat, drawing a pristine-looking white cloth from it. “I thought you’d might like to wipe yer face. Unless you like the blood smearing yer lip,” the woman chuckled gently, offering up the handkerchief, “I’m sure you look just as pretty, with or without.”

Karen giggled but caught herself quickly and cut off the laughter as she took the offered cloth. “Thank you, ma’am.” Upon closer inspection, Karen noticed the cloth wasn’t as clean as she thought. Spots of dried blood speckled the cloth like grime that refused to leave even after a stubborn cleaning. Karen added her own blood to the fabric, carefully wiping her bloody lip clean.

While she cleaned herself up, Karen watched the woman survey the crime scene. She walked around the dead man, kicking his body lightly to turn him over on his back. The soft sound of squelching made Karen cringe as Jessie lightly moved the blown-open head. Karen decided rather to keep her eyes on the woman who stood over the body. She had put her hat back on and now crouched over the body. Without ceremony, she snatched the man’s jewelry from him, breaking the necklace off his horse and pocketing two rings. She stuck her pockets in the man’s clothes, scouring the pockets. When those came up empty, she bent to pick up the man’s discarded clothing, digging through those. She retrieved some money and chewing tobacco, which she discarded. Most of the man’s belongings had likely disappeared along with his horse who had bolted earlier, its satchel bouncing against its flank.

Karen was surprised by how brazenly the woman robbed the man after shooting him. It was followed quickly by the irateness that she had lost out on her score. “You’re just going to rob him?”

The woman smirked, approaching Karen, and to her surprise, handed over most of the valuables and money. “He’s already dead, ain’t he? What are the squirrels going to do with his cash?”

Karen glanced at the valuables offered to her. Well, she didn’t need much convincing. Karen pocketed the belongings, her fingertips brushing the woman’s palm as she delicately scooped them up. “I like your sensibility,” Karen said, returning the woman’s handkerchief. The woman glanced briefly over the blood now decorating the white cloth, folding it over and putting it away. A different pocket, Karen noted.

“What’s your name?” Karen asked.

The woman seemed to consider her answer for a moment, eyes roaming over Karen. Unlike the usual pair of eyes that would look her up and down, however, Karen didn’t feel the least bit uncomfortable under the gaze. The usual slime was nowhere to be found in the woman’s eyes, and Karen almost felt the need to angle herself to present better, unlike her usual desire to turn away.

The woman finally answered, which was accompanied by a dramatic, sweeping bow, the woman holding her hat to her chest while her other hand went out, head bowing and feet crossing. “Jessie at your service, ma’am.”

“Jessie,” Karen repeated, mulling the name over and rolling it around on her tongue before cracking a grin. “My horseback angel.”

“The only angel is the one before me,” Jessie said, locking eyes as she delivered the compliment.

Heat rose in Karen’s cheeks, and her head turned away to avoid facing the flirtatious woman. “You talk silly.”

“Apologies, Miss, I guess I’m not right in the head,” Jessie said. Karen thought she heard disappointment tinting her words.

“It’s S’okay,” Karen said, feeling bad for her dismissal, “I’m only kidd’n.”

That seemed to lighten Jessie’s mood back up. She turned towards her horse, gesturing to it as she plopped her white hat back on her head. Her hair was ginger like Sean’s, Karen thought in the back of her head. “Would you care for a ride home? I doubt you’d like to walk out all alone after what happened.”

Karen glanced at the horse, then nodded. “Thank you, Miss Jessie. I would appreciate it if you could just bring me back to Valentine.” Hopefully, the others would be waiting for her, and hopefully without a lecture attached to the welcome committee.

Jessie nodded, stepping towards her horse and giving it a gentle pat on the neck as she took the reins. “This here’s, Baby. She looks like a brute, but she’s a kitten, really. Ain’tcha Baby?” Jessie cooed, rubbing her face into the horse’s neck, speaking to her horse like it really was a baby. “Yeah, you’re a good girl,” Jessie patted the horse once more before stepping back. She reached up to put a hand on the horse’s back, then held her other out to Karen. “She’s a big girl. Would you like some assistance up?”

Karen’s first instinct was to decline. She was sure she could manage mounting a horse quite fine, even with its size. Then she reconsidered, glancing at Jessie’s strong-looking outstretched hand. “If it ain’t much trouble.”

Turning towards the horse, Karen stretched her hands up to hold it’s back. She felt Jessie’s hands gently close around her waist, pushing with Karen’s pull. She could feel the warmth of Jessie’s hands seeping into her skin even over her skirt, and Karen’s face grew hot. Mounting the horse, Karen flipped over as she sat, her legs dangling off the side of Baby. She watched Jessie use the stirrups to get herself up, swinging a practiced leg over the gigantic horse. Few women wore pants, but it certainly seemed to make it easier for Jessie to ride. Karen leaned forward, wrapping her arms around Jessie with more contact than was necessary. Jessie grinned, taking up Baby’s reins with one more quick pat to the horse’s neck.

“I’ll deliver you quickly.”

“Oh, no need to rush on my account,” Karen said with a quick dismissal. “I’ve been stuck inside for ages,” Karen exclaimed. This is the most adventure I’ve had in a long time.” Karen empathized her words with a dramatic sigh, to which Jessie laughed.

“I couldn’t imagine, I’d go stir crazy being forced not to wander.” Then, as if testing the waters, Jessie added, “your husband keeps you in the house?”

Now it was Karen’s turn to laugh. “Who said anything about a husband? God forbid I ever get tied to a man.” Karen sighed, and without thought, her head came to rest against Jessie’s back. The woman’s leather jacket felt nice and cool against Karen’s bruised cheek. “Men only want your sex and for you to cook and clean for them…can’t tell if they’ll kiss you or hit you when drunk.

A long silence passed, the only noise being the gentle clip-clopping of Baby's hooves on the trail.

“Sounds like you’ve been hurt real bad before,” Jessie finally said. Quiet. Mournful.

“Life of a woman,” Karen said.

“Life of a woman,” Jessie agreed. Jessie’s hands tightened their grip on Baby’s reins, her knuckles turning white. “That’s why I became an outlaw. They throw you in jail for stand’n up for yourself. If the law won’t let me hold justice's weapon, then the law ain’t something I wanna follow.” Her voice was hard, and Karen pulled back, startled.

“You tell just anyone you’re an outlaw?”

Jessie glanced over her shoulder at Karen, a mischievous glint in her eyes and a smile. “I trust you.”

“You hardly know me.”

“The heart knows what the mind does not.”

Karen raised an eyebrow, chuckling. “Maybe you should become a poet instead of a gunslinger.

“I think most poets might find my usual speak’n a little too crude for their taste.”

Karen was silent. An Outlaw, huh? Karen leaned back, careful to keep her balance, as she looked past Jessie. No one was on the trail in front of her, and a glance back confirmed no one behind them either. Leaving just one hand on Jessie for balance, Karen pulled up her skirt. Jessie glanced back to see what was happening, but quickly averted her eyes when she saw the women digging her hand into her stockings.

Karen felt for the handle of the small knife she kept tucked away, then pulled it out. With a swift movement, she had the knife pressed to Jessie’s throat and her chest to her back. Jessie’s only reaction was a blink, as she continued to slowly ride Baby on the trail. “I think you trust too easy,” Karen murmured, tilting the knife so the sharp edge brushed Jessie’s skin. “I was robbing that man before he got the jump on me. Now i’m gonna rob you. Pull over.”

Baby kept trotting forward as if nothing was happening, and Jessie made no moves to pull up the reins or reach for her own weapon. Karen grit her teeth, pressing the knife harder to Jessie’s throat until it drew a thin scrape of blood that beaded on the glinting edge. “I said git to the side.”

The slow monument of Jessie’s hand caught Karen’s eye and her grip on the knife tightened. She made no move, however, even as Jessie’s hand closed around her own. She expected Jessie to take the knife from her, or maybe even throw her off the horse.

Jessie turned back to look at Karen. Karen swallowed a lump, staring into those grassy eyes, and wondering how they could be so inviting. Jessie didn’t do anything to her. She just held her hands over Karen’s until it became too uncomfortable for Karen to keep looking. She tried to pull her hand away, to take away the knife, but Jessie’s firm grip kept her pinned, kept the knife against her own throat.

“What are you doing?” Karen demanded to know, trying again to pull the knife away.

“Slit my throat. I trust you,” Jessie said simply. No trickery could be heard in her voice. No malice or even amusement. Just a simple ask.

Karen shook her head, averting her eyes. “I didn’t mean it.”

Jessie lifted Karen’s hand, licking the beads of blood off the knife before she finally released the other woman. “Why don’t you?”

“I just wanted to see what you would do.”

“You satisfied with the answer?”

Karen didn’t answer. She just replaced the knife into her skirts and lay her head back against Jessie.

“What’s your name?” Jessie asked.

“Karen.”

The rest of the ride back to Valentine was silent. As they trotted into town, Jessie jiggled her shoulder, making Karen lift her head. “Anywhere specific you want me to drop you off? The Hotel? Or Saloon?” Jessie asked.

Karen glanced around, noticing they were passing the train station. “Take me to the general store.” Hopefully, she could find the others still there. Jessie threaded them through the town, giving nods to people as she passed. Most didn’t give them more than a glance, but Karen could see the way a couple regarded them suspiciously. Or more so, Jessie, looking her clothes up and down. Jessie either didn’t notice or, more likely, just didn’t care. They neared the general store, Jessie getting closer to the side.

“Karen!” The named looked up, glancing around until she spotted Tilly flagging her down. Jessie pulled Baby to a stop as Tilly ran up to them, Karen sitting straight as she looked down at the other woman. “Where have you been? We were looking everywhere for you!” Tilly stopped, looking at Jessie. “Who’s this?”

Jessie lowered herself from Baby, nodding to Tilly. “I go by Kelly.”

Karen glanced at Jessie–Kelly?--as she turned to help Karen down. Jessie winked at Karen, and Karen decided she was still Jessie. As Karen’s feet got back on the ground, she noticed Mary-Beth joining the group. The two girls fawned over Karen as Jessie stood at her side, pointedly refusing to move out of the way and be subtly pushed out. “I’m fine, I’m fine,” Karen said, shaking off the hands, patting her back, and settling on her arms. They seemed to take a great interest in the bruise on her face and Karne didn’t much like the way her lip stung when Mary-Beth dared to set her fingers on the cut.

Tilly pulled away, glancing around before calling, “Arthur! We found’er!”

Karen looked to see Arthur walking over, Uncle in tow. He stopped up short as he saw Jessie, shaking his head before walking the rest of the way. “I thought you were going to the Hotel?” Arthur said to Karen as he regarded her and her companion, his eyes snaking up to Baby behind them. “What happened to yer face?”

Karen shrugged. “I went succeeding in the trees for a change of pace.” She didn’t exactly want to devolve the entire story in the middle of town, and neither really would she like to tell it on the wagon ride home. “Kelly,” Karen said pointedly, glancing at the woman, “was generous enough to take me back.”

Jessie nodded, “Happy to help, Ma’am.”

“Well,” Arthur said, “thanks for bringing her back. We were worried about her.”

Jessie nodded once more before stepping into her stirrups, and mounting her horse. She leaned down, gesturing for Karen to get closer. Karen shuffled forward, looking up at Jessie whose body blocked the sun behind her, leaving a soft light that gave her edges an ethereal glow. Jessie outstretched her hand, which Karen took, expecting a handshake. Instead, Jessie drew her hand closer, leaning down to plant a kiss on the back of her hand, lingering there before looking at Karen. Karen felt her cheeks grow hot as she focused on the feeling of Jessie’s callouses brushing her skin.

“If you ever want to talk again, just leave a message at the post for me.”

Karen nodded in acknowledgment, and let her hand slip from Jessie’s as much as she didn’t want to.

Taking up the reins, Jessie steered Baby around the gathered group. “Oh, and I know a good bank that needs robb’n. If you’re interested,” Jessie added with a wink before tapping her spurs into Baby’s flank and trotting down the road.

“Bank robbing?” Mary-Beth said incredulously, looking at Karen.

“What did you tell that woman?” Tilly interjected, her hands going to her hips.

Karen rolled her eyes. “You’re sure being judgemental for a lot that claims to like the Outlaw life. God, I’ll tell you about it later, let's just get back to camp.”

[deansclassics]

hi i wrote this steve h. fic awhile ago but never finished it 😭

———————————————————————she/her pronouns

steve being depressive???

definitely not proofread

not finished

———————————————————————

Steve Harrington was attractive. God everyone knew. All those girls that had flung themselves at him in his high school years had established this notion. But nonetheless in Steve’s mind, he believed he was not. He wouldn’t call himself ugly but he never felt like all the attention was deserved. Even after you and him had gotten together it was still hard for him to believe that someone like you, a kind and genuine person was with him, of all people. He never doubted your love for him, he just doubted the fact that he deserved it. These were the thoughts always in the back of Steve’s mind and when he eventually got tired of his brain he turned off his bedroom lights and went to bed.

The next morning Steve woke up and got ready for his afternoon shift with Robin at the dreaded Family Video. He was glad that he got a job with one of his favorite people, it made everything less boring when your best friend was helping you organize videotapes by genre’s. Once he had made it to work he was greeted at the door by none other then Robin Buckley. “I’ve been waiting for you to get here dingus! It’s awfully sunny today.” “Yea sorry about that, my mom needed my car so I had to come walking.” Steve responded with a yawn at the end, screw his brain for keeping him up late. “Don’t sweat it, could you just open the door faster.” She said wanting to get away from the hot Indiana sun.

Once they clocked in and started the tasks Keith had assigned to them, Robin had accidentally spilled at stack of magazines which delayed their tasks by 20 minutes. She was very apologetic to the brunette who looked like he was already done with today before it had even started. Robin had decided it was best if she didn’t start with her usual and entertaining teasing of Steve, seeing that he may not be in the mood to deal with their playful banter. They both continued with work over the next few hours occasionally taking turns helping each costumer who had wandered into the store.

To say that Steve was over today was an understatement, he was ready to crawl in a hole and stay there forever. It was something about last night that had really put him in a foul mood, of course he would never admit that to himself, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he just didn’t deserve any of your love and care. He felt unworthy of such actions, like he wasn’t enough. He sat at the counter staring off into space essentially belittling himself and his worth. That was until he heard the bell indicating that someone had stepped into the store, he turned around to ask Robin if she could handle the costumer but he saw her walk into the break room and came to the conclusion that he would just have to do it.

But when Steve turned back around to greet the costumer who had just walked in, he was met with the one person he didn’t want to see but desperately needed to see, you. “Hi Stevie! Whatcha’ up to? Is Robin here?” you cheerfully said as the man with gorgeous hair who you were lucky enough to call your boyfriend looked directly at you. “Hi sweetheart. I just finished putting some things away but umm.. yea Robins here, she’s just in the break room.” Steve said in a very dull voice that told you something was up.

“Well.. your mom called me and told me she left you without a car stranded at work and asked if I could pick you up.” You said with a laugh at the thought of Steve being stranded at Family Video. This however did not make Steve laugh, why would his mom call you? Make you waste finite resources to come pick him up from work. “Oh my god..” he said bringing his palm up to make contact with his face. “I’m so sorry my mom made you come all the way over here to pick me up.” You saw him dig into his pocket for something. “Here— I have some money. It should cover the cost of—“ You grabbed his face and pulled him closer to you. “Steve I don’t need money from you. And your mom didn’t make me, she asked if I could and I came because I love you and don’t want you walking in the dark.” He stood there staring at you with glossy eyes as he tried to decipher what kind of spell had been cast that would compel you to want to do something like that for him. You gave him a quick kiss on the lips and let go of him as you heard Robin emerge from the break room.

“Hey Y/N! As much as I would love to help you out pick a new horror movie to watch, Steve and I have to close up shop.” She said with a smile on her face which let you know that she didn’t mean anything in a rude way and that she was just ready to hit the hay. “Hi Rob. Don’t worry, I’m not here for a new film. I just came to pick up Steve.” You looked at him with such love and adoration that he couldn’t, for the life of him figure out why he deserved it. What heroic act had he committed in his past life to be graced with you.

“I’m so ready to leave!” Robin said as she sighed ready to have the work day be over with. “Y/N do you think I could hitch a ride?” the tall trumpet player asked with hopeful eyes set on her friends. Robin locked up the store as she awaited your response. “Yea it’s no problem!” you said as you made your way to your car. Steve still had not spoken, he just didn’t feel like it, there was something going on so you and Robin didn’t want to push him.

When Robin had been dropped off at her house, Steve had noticed that you were driving in the opposite direction of his house. “Are you kidnapping me? We’re heading in the wrong direction sweetheart.” He said as he looked out the car window and watched the Hawkins trees fly by. “Your mom said it was ok if you stayed at mine. If you don’t wanna it’s ok— I can turn the car around.” You knew Steve wasn’t gonna turn down the invitation to sleep in your bed and eat the food your parents had cooked. “What are we eating?” he asked resting his head on the window and closing his eyes. You responded with a classic dish your mom made that you knew he always enjoyed. For the first time today he had smiled a full Steve Harrington smile that had literally made your heart skip a heat. “Ok. I’ll stay.” he responded as he stifled a yawn.

When Steve walked into your house he was greeted with the sent of your parents’ delicious cooking. He had always loved being at your house, he enjoyed being surrounded by your family’s dynamic. His parents never really cooked for him or cared about spending time with him. So, when he came to your house it always felt like he was experiencing what his childhood should have been like. Steve felt those emotions from last night comeback and it didn’t make it any better when your parents turned around and greeted him with huge smiles. “Hello Steve!” your dad had said to him as he quickly turned back around to continued cutting vegetables. “Hello. It’s great to see you guys. Sorry about crashing dinner— Y/N kidnapped me.” he added a joke at the end trying to defuse the tension in his head. God they were Steve’s favorite adults, he wished he could have had someone like them when he was growing up. “Steve! Have you cut your hair?” your mom said as she rushed over to Steve and gave him a hug whilst inspecting his brown hair that she loved oh so very much. “No I haven’t. I think it’s that new hair gel I used this morning?”

Finally when all the greetings had come to an end and you kindly asked your mom to call you both down when the food was ready, you and Steve made it to your bedroom. He made a beeline for your bed and plopped on it, as well as making sure to take off his shoes before he sat up and opened up the colorful blanket that was always sprawled on your bed before laying back down and wrapping it all over himself.

“Are you tired Stevie?” You asked as you made your way to the bed and held him in your arms. “Yea, just a bit, these past few days have not been kind to me.” He surprisingly admitted. Something about you holding him and the thought of eating his favorite food opened him up. “Do you wanna talk about it?” You whispered very quietly as if trying to not disturb his sleepy aura. “After dinner, right now can we just sit here? It helps me remind myself of something.” “Ok.” You said not fully understanding what he was referring to but nonetheless you planted a kiss to his head.

And so you both sat there in each other’s soft embrace waiting for your mom to come in and tell you dinner was ready. She eventually knocked on the door and said it was time to eat.

Dinner was filled with comfortable small talk about upcoming assignments and work promotions. Steve admired the way everyone intently listen as someone spoke, hanging off every word. When dinner was over you and Steve offered to clean up as a fair trade for the meal and your parents thanked you and made their way to their room to watch a movie they had mentioned earlier. You figured now was a good time to think of what you were going to say to Steve, but also prepare for the conversation ahead.

Once the dishes had been washed and put away, you can Steve head towards your bedroom. Steve had also decided that he was going to let it all out. His thoughts had been plaguing him and what was a healthy relationship if you couldn’t communicate properly? He knew you would appreciate the honesty. As he sat on your bed with his body rested against some pillows he watched you close the door and make your way across from him on the bed, awaiting his voice. He let out a cough as he thought about where to begin. “I’ve been feeling off lately,” he said quietly. He continued as he stared at your face that read ‘Go on.’ “What I mean to say is that…I’ve been feeling shitty about - well myself.” Your facial expression was soft and unwavering as you continued to listen. “I know you love me sweetheart. Trust me I know. It’s just that sometimes-“ he took a deep and stead breath, “sometimes I just don’t think I deserve it.” This he said in a whisper as if he was ashamed of it, almost as if finally saying these words out loud made him feel silly.

Steve went on to tell you about his late night thoughts and other things that had kept him up at night, as he bared his soul to you he finally started to realize he was crying once you moved closer as began to wipe his face.

————————————————

[softtheythem]

Slow(er than usual) Burn Part 1

It had been such a long time since they'd seen each other. And sure, there had been phone calls. And texting. And plenty of late night pictures sent with the flash on. But years had gone by since they'd actually touched. There was always a reason. They never seemed to live in the same place at the same time. Schedules and lives always misaligning. Until one day, they didn't.

He was in town for two weeks to deal with family business. It was a strained family relationship and he had opted to rent a place, rather than stay with his relatives. She was living less than an hour away.

They agreed to be careful. To take it in steps. The sexual tension between them had always been intense, and as a precaution the arranged for the first stage of their reunion to occur in a public space. A coffee shop in a small town. Lots of eyes would be on them. Not that that had always been such a deterrent for them in the past.

She got to the cafe early. Embarrassingly so. She'd planned on this, needing to be the one to arrive first. She reached into her bag and pulled out a book. She'd chosen it intentionally for it's dull topic, hoping to use it as something of a cooler. It didn't work. She could think of nothing but the years she had spent imagining his lips on hers. Every time the little bell above the door rang out with a customers coming or going, she looked up, hopeful.

He was early, too. He came in 5 minutes before their agreed upon time, forty minutes after she'd sat down. She watched from her spot in the corner of the room as his eyes scanned for her. She didn't wave, didn't call his name. She found herself oddly paralyzed. She meant to pretend to look busy, but found that she couldn't even do that. She could only stare, taking him in.

When he finally saw her, he smiled. She blushed and nodded her head, relieved to find she could move it at all. He walked over to the table, looking at least as nervous as she felt, and sat down.

"Did you already order?" he asked gesturing to the cup between them, his voice soft but just as lovely as she remembered it.

"I got a tea so that it wouldn't seem rude of me to sit her," she explained, suddenly self conscious, "but then I remembered I hate tea, so it's just been sitting here."

He smiled then, and shook his head, like this was a completely classic thing for her to have done. It was, of course, but it felt somehow intimate for him to know that about her after all this time.

"I'll be right back," he said, and then walked to the counter. She spent the few minutes of his absence alternating between checking out his ass and wiping her sweaty palms on her jeans. She was so nervous. He was so wonderful.

He came back to the table holding two drinks. Coffee for himself and lemonade for her. She felt blood rise to her cheeks.

"You got me lemonade," she said awkwardly.

"You like lemonade," he replied.

He sat and they began an attempt at small talk. She asked about his drive out, he asked about her job. They'd been texting so much it wasn't anything they hadn't already discussed. Still, she relished any chance to hear his voice.

When a particularly boisterous family entered the little shop, the noise startled him and he turned and looked at the door. As he turned back to face her, his leg shifted slightly, and his foot brushed against her calf. All it took was that innocent and simple touch for her to become flustered. Every nerve in her body seemed to be on full alert. She bit her lower lip, trying to contain a wistful sigh.

He noticed, of course. He remembered that expression, he remembered what it meant. Raising his eyebrows almost imperceptibly, he risked brushing against her again, this time his ankle on hers, and a bit more firmly.

"Gus," she whispered, blushing again, or perhaps still.

"Should I not?" He asked, clearly unapologetic in his tone.

"We meant to behave today," she replied.

"We're both still dressed, aren't we," he said.

She looked around the shop, wondering if, had they met at his air bnb like he initially suggested, they'd already be naked by now. She didn't have to wonder long. She knew the answer.

They continued chatting as they tangled their legs further together. They spoke about their lives, their jobs, their favorite places to walk around. Every word was loaded with double meanings. They were baiting each other. A game to see who would be explicit first. He adjusted his chair and his knee pressed to her inner thighs. Her resolve to keep this meeting in a public space was wearing thin.

[wordsofelie]

Chapter 5

🔥Phoenix and Ashes

Suna Rintarou x f!reader

Summary: “It’s funny how nobody believed that we could make it work.” - “Well-maybe they were right.”

Meeting Suna Rintarou wasn’t part of your plan. Dating him, either. Getting your heart smashed into the palms of his hand, even less.

Content Warnings: Timeskip, A little bit of swearing, Fluff and Hurt, Mention of 1 Original Character, Manga Spoilers

Word count: 3.4k

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9

You stayed at your parents’ house even after graduating high school. They say the first time you move out, it can be scary. Most people experience homesickness. But they did not tell you that, in your case, staying would be scarier because you don’t feel homesick for a place, but for a person.

You thought you could handle the distance that separates you from Rin, but every time you go back to Hyogo, when you step on the train and he waves at you; your heart breaks. The smell of your mother’s cooking, the comfort of your childhood bed, the freedom of being eighteen, nothing comes close to what you have when you are with him. You’re searching for the green of his eyes, for the sound of his voice in everyone you meet, but they are nowhere to be found. You only feel whole when he is by your side. It’s almost like you exist in two places here and where he is. It’s driving you crazy.

You used to wait for Mondays like a blazing desert awaits the cold of the night because you knew that Suna would be waiting for you at the entrance of the school, one hand in his pocket, the other on his phone. Now you hate Sunday nights because you have to leave him knowing he will not be here in the morning.

Umi has left for Tokyo where she studies medicine, the twins are in Osaka, and you see them more than your best friend now. Atsumu has signed a three-year contract with the MSBY Jackals, he doesn’t want you or his brother to come to his games as he is not a regular yet, but you both always find a new disguise to show up clandestinely. One time, you dressed up as cheerleaders. When his teammates saw you both in full attire, complete with pom-poms and shouting out Atsumu’s name — Osamu did most of the job though, firstly because you were shy and secondly because you were laughing too much, your stomach hurt — Atsumu’s face turned a shade of red you’d never seen before. He tried to ignore you both but failed miserably when his teammates started teasing him about his "devoted fans." Atsumu didn’t talk to you for two days (but it was worth it). Osamu works in a ramen restaurant downtown called Ramen Kazuya. Umi often thanks you for taking care of them (now that she is away and barely talks to the setter), you have to remind her that playing board games in the backroom of Osamu’s workplace while eating crisps and peanuts until the restaurant closes isn’t really taking care, but whatever.

From time to time you think your life in Osaka is nice.

Everything is almost perfect.

(If only you did not miss Rin so much).

Osamu hears the bells ring, indicating that a new customer has arrived. He is washing the last plate of the day, the water flows on his fingers which are more calloused now than when he played volleyball. He doesn’t turn around and simply announces, “sorry, we’re closed.”

It’s faint but he hears the “click” of a camera, he turns off the tap to see where it comes from.

That’s when he sees you standing there with a disposable camera, grinning.

You snap another picture of him, this time capturing his full expression.

"Hey!" he exclaims, half-confused and half-amused.

It’s not that he was not expecting you, you often come to the restaurant after you are done with your part-time job and he's on evening duty. The photo lab where you started working a few weeks ago is ten minutes away from Ramen Kazuya so you take the opportunity to stop by when you can. But today is Tuesday and you never work on Tuesdays.

“Whatcha doin’?” he asks, still trying to process what’s happening.

You lower the camera, “I got this from the photo lab. I thought I’d tried it.”

“I meant watcha doin’ here, it’s Tuesday.”

“Oh,” you take a seat at the counter, “I’m working additional days now. I need money, you know.” You offer him a sweet smile in an attempt to justify yourself.

Osamu doesn’t ask why, he knows you’re doing this to see Suna, as if your boyfriend couldn’t help you pay for the train tickets. The thought bothers him but he decides to ignore it.

“Hungry?”

You nod eagerly and follow him to the kitchen where he starts boiling the noodles and cutting slices of pork. Every step of the making is immortalised by your camera in different angles and lights.

You stop taking pictures to look at him, “your best profile is your left I think.”

He ignores your comment and the two eyes staring a him, “Dontcha wanna keep some for another time?”

“Nop.” He raises an eyebrow and faces you. “When you are a starred chef I’ll sell those to your fans. Am going to make a lot of money with it.” You conclude with a confident tone as if you just came out with a brilliant plan.

Osamu holds back a chuckle before going back to the main room.

He finally serves you a bowl of ramen (soy sauce, no menma - because you hate it, and boiled eggs instead of poached, it’s better for your digestion, you told him once) and you dig in with enthusiasm. “Itadakimasu.”

“How is Mizusawa-san doing?” You ask after a few seconds of degustation.

Osamu tells you about the old man, Mizusawa, the owner of the restaurant. A seventy-and-something-year-old who opened the restaurant in the sixties on the day of his twenty-first birthday. He has been running the business since then with his wife. When the latter passed away, his son insisted on finding someone to help him in the kitchen. Osamu had found the job advertisement one day when he was passing in the street. He changed his mind a couple of times before deciding to finally apply for it. (”Go for it, ‘Samu. There’s nothin’ to lose, yer scared or what?” his twin had challenged him, he couldn’t get away). The man and his son were arguing the day he came to introduce himself. Mizusawa-san who appeared reluctant at first, ended up taking a liking to him and hired him.

He works there full-time now and when you come to see Osamu, the old man never fails to feed you with oversized bowls of ramen and extra plates of rice.

“His health is doin’ better, he still comes here every day.”

“Good to hear.” You finish drinking the bouillon before continuing, “It’s so good. I really needed that.”

“Long day?” He asks.

“Yeah,” you sigh, wiping your mouth. “I’ve been swamped with assignments. The social network club is more demanding than I thought. And between that and my part-time job, I barely have time to breathe.”

Osamu uses the palm of his hand to support his chin, elbow on the counter. He says nothing back and only watches you with a mix of amusement and sympathy.

You complain about overworking yourself but it’s only to keep your mind occupied. Your program in communication and community management is quite demanding by itself but you still decided to join a club from your university.

Weekends come faster this way.

The longing hurts less.

Osamu takes advantage of your focused face while eating to snap a picture of his own. You left the camera next to you but it is not hard for him to grab it. The lens is small but he can see some details through it. Your hair is messy and your lips are greasy from the food. You look like a child eating her birthday cake.

“Stop!” you protest, getting up to take the camera from him.

You swing your arms in all directions but the counter is separating you and Osamu is no match to you. He takes another photo to tease you, this one is even more precious, he thinks. This time you make an angry face (though you don’t look too scary) and your hair is messier than before. Just then, your phone rings. You’re so fast to reach for it, that Osamu thinks you were teleported. Your face immediately lights up when you get it from your bag, it doesn’t take long for him to connect the dots.

"Sorry, I have to take this. It's Rin."

Your smile is so bright, Osamu wonders if it’s made from stardust.

“No worries.” A corner of his mouth lifts a little.

“Rin!” You exclaim, closing the door behind you. Your skin is tingling at the mere thought of hearing his voice. He hasn't even spoken yet, but you already feel the familiar warmth spreading through you.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“I’m with Osamu. He was about to close the restaurant,” you explain, glancing back at Osamu through the window. He's wiping down the counter, but his eyes flicker toward you every now and then.

“Cool, say hi,” Suna replies nonchalantly.

You hear chatters from a distance as well as music.

“I will.”

You’re about to ask him where he is since you don’t remember him telling you he would be going out but he is faster than you.

“So, you tried to call me earlier?”

“I...mh...yes, I wanted to ask you something. I was thinking maybe next weekend you could come since you don’t have any games.” You bite your lip, hoping he can hear the eagerness in your voice.

“Sorry, I can’t. I have the birthday of a guy from my class.”

“Oh… No problem, I understand. I’ll see you the weekend after then,” you respond, trying to mask your disappointment with forced cheerfulness.

“You ain’t coming to Hiroshima?”

“I will be celebrating with my parents, so-”

“Rintarou,” a girl's voice interrupts you on the other side of the line, your heart tightens at the sound. You were not expecting him to be out, let alone with a girl.

“I’m coming.” Then, he says something else but it’s too faint for you to decipher the words. You picture him putting the phone away and talking to the girl. What does she look like, you wonder? Is she a girl from a class or did he meet her at the party where you guess he is? The thoughts remind you of how far you are from him, of how unpalpable he is. You feel defenceless.

“Sorry baby, I have to go. Text me when you’re home,” his voice is louder now, you are almost startled by it.

You mumble a shy goodnight and hang up.

It’s mid-July, the air is heavy from the lack of fresh breeze. Maybe it’s because of the weather, but you’re assaulted by the fear of suffocating. Your lungs feel empty and so full at the same time. You don’t realise that you’re still staring at the black screen absentmindedly until you hear the sound of keys jangling. The next second a grey-haired head is handing you the bag that you left inside.

“So? What’s the plan?” Osamu asks with curiosity.

“Mmh… he can’t come next weekend. It’s the birthday of one of his friends,” you relay to Osamu before putting your phone in your pocket.

His brows furrow, “what did ya tell him?”

“Nothing,” you reply, shrugging and trying to play it off.

“Huh? But it’s also yer birthday, dumbass. Ya should have insisted,” Osamu scolds, his voice gentle but firm. He’s frowning more now.

You don’t answer and he knows you’re done with the conversation. He snorts quietly to restrain himself from saying something.

“I’ll go to the station.”

“I’ll take ya.” He responds almost instantly.

Of course he will, he always does. Ever since he got his driving license in April and his dad gave him his old Toyota (”What does ‘Samu get a car and not me?” Atsumu had complained, “Pass yer license first ya moron.”)

You take a moment to look at him, there is a certain warmth in his eyes and you choose to follow him.

“Thanks for the ramen by the way.” You start after a long moment of silence.

“Sure.” He wants to keep his focus on the road, but his eyes steal a brief side glance at you. You’re buried in the seat, forehead against the window. He can’t see you but he can guess the look on your face. Thoughtful. Elsewhere. He did not notice before that your tee-shirt is way too large for you. It’s probably Suna’s, he realises. There’s a drop of sweat rolling down your neck, it makes your hair curl a little bit - he really needs to fix the air conditioning. He grips the wheel tighter to regain his concentration.

“You passed the station Osamu.” You’re confused when he doesn’t stop.

He clears his throat, “Am ridin’ ya home.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I know, champion.” He simply answers with a smile.

“He was with a girl, Umi.”

Your best friend, on the other side of the line, sighs softy, not in an annoyed way but to think before assuming the worst.

“She’s probably just a classmate.”

“She called him Rintarou.”

“Most people use first names in uni.” She says with conviction.

You grunt. Umi is coming up with rational answers and you know she is being honest with you. She hasn’t been the biggest supporter of your relationship ever since you decided to change your plans for him, but she still tries to offer you objective advices in this kind of situation.

You curl up so that you can lean your cheek on your knees.

Your best friend is probably studying as you hear the sound of pen straching and pages turning.

“I don’t think you have to worry, really. You know I think Suna isn’t the most… caring boyfriend.” You know “caring” is the less insulting adjective she found, “But he wouldn’t play with you like that.”

She is right, you repeat to yourself. For now, it’s enough for your mind to find some peace but you still want to end the discussion here, if the thought of your boyfriend with another girl lingers any longer, you might not be able to sleep tonight. “Let’s talk about something else.”

“How is he doing?” she asks, her voice has softened.

“Good.” You lay fully on your bed. “He’s practising every day, his coach told him he could be regular next season if he keeps on improving.”

“I’m happy for him.” After a second or two, she keeps going but this time there’s something fragile in her voice. “Does he ask about me?”

You hesitate but remember that she only deserves the truth. “I-hm-not really. But I talk about you a lot, so he indirectly has news about you.”

There’s a brief silence, then “I see. It’s only fair.”

Even though you can’t see her, you can feel the weight of her disappointment, “I’m sure he misses you, you know. He just… doesn’t show it. And you know Atsumu, he’s bad with feelings.”

“I know,” she whispers. “I don’t blame him though, I’m not an example myself.” She offers a little laugh, a bitter one, in an attempt to reassure you. “Thanks for letting me know.”

You smile and you realise the knot in your stomach has disappeared.

“Well, I need to go back to my anatomy lesson now. Did you know that the human nose can remember over fifty thousand different scents?” Her voice is steadier now.

“I did not know Chihara-sensei. That’s gonna be very useful in my life.”

She hears the irony in your voice, “shut up.”

You both burst into laughter and for a fleeting moment, you pretend you’re still in the corridors of Inarizaki High, sitting on the stairs and listening to her funny stories about the twins.

“If you could remember only one scent what would it be?” She asks but quickly gives a rule, “it can’t be Suna’s smell. Gross.”

She knows you too well, you would obviously choose his scent. Wet wood and pumpkin spices.

You decide to play along, “then I would say,” you look at the ceilings and enumerate the options. You think about the cherry cake your grandmother bakes you and the smell of cut grass when your father takes care of the garden. But your final choice is on something more recent. “Ramen. Those with soy sauce and pork. What about you?”

Her answer is quicker than yours, “the smell of the sea.”

After that, she complains about her roommate asking her to be quiet. “I have to hang up. That Shirabu guy is the serious type, you know,” she explains. “But he always cleans after him so he’s forgiven.”

As soon as you bid her goodnight, you can't help but glance at your phone, your fingers hovering over the screen for a moment before you open your messages. Your conversation with Suna automatically appears. Your eyes are fixed on yesterday’s messages.

“I’m home. I hope you’re having fun. I can’t wait to see you next weekend, I love you.” You texted him around midnight.

“me too! Iolve u night night” received at 4.02 am. Then half an hour later, “idk why osamu is maad at me!!! r u mad too???”

If the first message gave you a clue about his state, the second one confirmed it. He was drunk. Sober Suna would never use so many punctuation marks. You responded by telling him you were not mad and Osamu neither (you can’t actually be sure but you bet if he were, he would have told you).

“sorry i think i drank too much.”

You only read that last message this morning, when you woke up. You tried to call him but after one ring you received another message from him, “my head hurts, i’ll call you later <3”

Since then, radio silence.

You struggle to fall asleep that night, the absence of Rin keeping you awake and aching. How many times can your heart handle breaking?

On the morning of your birthday, you feel sick. You know you should be excited by it, opening presents, eating a cake, seeing your friends, those usually are synonyms of joy. Still, on the day you turn nineteen, they are not.

You check your phone, the light hurts a little but your eyes adapt to it quickly. One message from Kita (even at wishing birthdays, he is first), four from Umi, one missed call from your grandmother, but it’s the ones from Osamu that catch your attention.

“Happy birthday champion! You’re the first to turn 19, how does that feel?”

Then, “Can you come to the restaurant at 11 plz? I need help with something.”

Osamu doesn’t usually ask for help (at least with you, he’s not as cautious with his brother). And in fact, it’s almost always the other way around. You’re the one who volunteers to lend a hand, whether it's washing dishes, restocking ingredients, or simply keeping him company during the slow hours. You don’t understand why he would need you on a Saturday morning but you don’t question it further. He rides you home and feeds you more than he should, you owe him that. And it gives you a reason to not stay depressed in your bed all day.

You sigh, dragging yourself out of bed. The disappointment from the last few days still lingers. Suna not being able to come for your birthday is a heavy weight on your heart. You thought you had prepared yourself for it, but waking up without a message from him makes you feel even worse.

You get dressed slowly, trying to shake off the gloom. It’s already warm outside, and the heat hits you as soon as you step out. The sun is high in the sky, and you can almost feel the concrete burning under your steps. You make a quick stop by your part-time job at the photo lab to print the photos from the disposable camera you used with Osamu.

Next, you head to the konbini for an iced tea. The cold drink offers a brief respite from the heat. You sip it slowly, hoping it will cool the sadness in your chest as well. The streets are bustling with people, but you feel oddly detached as if you’re watching everything from a distance.

When you arrive in front of the restaurant, you see Osamu. He probably just arrived as the menu hasn’t been put outside and the door is closed. You’re slow to realise he is not alone. Next to him, standing tall, Suna. You spot him first. With his hands in his pockets, dressed in a black shirt and grey shorts, you take the time to admire how perfect he is Absolutely beautiful in an impossible way. He may be a little bit younger than you, but he doesn’t look like a high schooler anymore probably thanks to the hours of training (volleyball in university is not a joke.)

“Rin?” you say, more a breath than a word, when you reach the two boys.

He looks up and smiles, the kind of smile that makes your heart stop in the best way.

“Hey! Happy birthday,” he says, his voice soft and warm.

The sickness melts away.

“I thought you couldn’t come,” you manage to say, almost tripping on your words.

“I rearranged some things,” he replies, stepping closer.

Your cheeks start hurting, and you can’t stop smiling.

“Is that why you needed me for?” You turn to Osamu, arms crossed on your chest.

Osamu clears his throat, “yeah I needed ya to keep yer boyfriend company. Can’t really babysit him today, am busy. And I’ve had my life quota of babysittin’ with that brat of ‘Tsumu.”

“Are you comparing me to Atsumu? Man that hurts.” Suna interferes.

“Alright, I take it back, that was quite insultin’, my bad. Now both of you leave, enjoy yer date or whatever.” He slaps Suna on the back.

Your boyfriend starts walking away but before joining him you turn to Osamu one last time.

“Thanks, Osamu. I mean for this,” you say, gesturing to Rin. You assumed Osamu was the one behind the surprise and his next words confirm it.

“Anytime. Happy birthday, by the way.”

He gives you a little box, it’s simple and probably reused, but what’s inside isn’t.

He cooked two onigiris, each of them decorated with a kanji made of nori. Happy birthday, on the first one and Champion, on the second.

The hunger comes the second you open the box.

“That looks so good Osamu, thank you. I’ll share it with Rin.”

You’re so grateful for your friend, you want to say more than just a thank you but he cuts you off by pushing you towards Rin and wishing you a nice day.

The day turns out to be nice, without any surprise. You take a walk along the river, stop by various food stalls in Dotonbori Street, eat takoyaki and torikaya — you look nothing more than two tourists. You finally decide to sit down a little bit in a café before the night falls. The day passes you by and before you can even fully process his presence, he announces his train is in one hour.

You pause and look at him confused, “You’re not staying at my house tonight?”

“Don’t want to bother your parents and I have a birthday tomorrow, I told you last time.” He doesn’t meet your eyes, focusing on taking a bite of the shared pancakes you have ordered.

“Ah-yeah… Sorry.” You want to hide the disappointment in you. You play with your fork, it clatters against the plate. “Whose birthday?”

“Hana’s.” He finally looks at you.

Your throat feels dry, again. You try to recall the conversation you had over the phone, didn’t he say it was the birthday of a guy?

You already know the answer but you still ask him (or rather, you’re standing in front of a cliff but you decide to jump anyway.)

“Is she the girl you were with last time?”

“Yeah.”

Confusion mingles with the dryness in your throat, but you force a smile, not wanting to ruin the moment. “I see,” you say, trying to sound casual. “I’ll get some water.”

You rise from your seat, your mind racing. The thought of Hana, whoever she is, gnaw at you. You don't realise your bag is tipping over until you see the contents on the floor.

“Shit,” you mutter, crouching down to gather your belongings. Suna is by your side in an instant.

As you both reach for a white envelope at the same time, Suna gets it first. It opens slightly, and a few photos slip out, catching his eye. All of them feature whether you or Osamu (or a bowl of ramen, but it’s definitely not what stands out to him). He picks them up, there’s a moment of silence as he looks at them then, a chuckle.

“Miya Osamu sure is good-looking.”

You take the envelope from him. “I-I guess.” you say, stuffing the photos back inside. “We were just messing around in the restaurant.”

Suna’s expression is hard to read, a mix of amusement and something else you can’t quite place. “Cool,” he remarks, his tone neutral.

Saying goodbye is hard, even though he tells you you’ll see each other next weekend. You find yourself being mad at yourself for feeling so weak. You want to enjoy your last minutes together but there’s an emptiness inside you that you feel in every fibre of your being. He is about to step on the train when you grab the sleeve of his shirt and tell him to wait.

He gives you a moment to explain yourself but the words don’t come out.

“I really have to go, baby.” He frees himself from your grip and kisses your forehead, “text me when you’re home.”

He disappears and your heart breaks. Again. And again. And again.

But then, you remember, loving him is worth any distance, any pain, any heartbreak.

So you take a deep breath to regain some strength.

Keep on loving him and he’ll keep on loving you.

That’s enough.

Right?

author notes: how do you guys feel about this new chapter? I really enjoy developing reader and Osamu's friendship, I hope you'll like it too :)

Elie

taglist: @wolffmaiden, @obibiwan, @teyvatsunsets

[casspurrjoybell-24]

My Mate - Chapter 18 - Part 1

*Warning Adult Content*

In a span of two days, I've gone from being forgotten and ignored by my pack, to being the only wolf everyone seemed to noticed.

How can that happen, one may ask.

It's simple really.

Becoming the Mate of their future Alpha has suddenly made me interesting enough to gain all of their attention.

I hate it... not being Mated to Robert... because let's face it... he's not so bad... it's the attention I hate.

Everywhere I went, I was being stared at and whispered about.

It made my skin crawl with discomfort.

It wasn't just the students whose attitudes towards me changed overnight.

I couldn't get through a class in my normal silence without a teacher asking my opinion on a topic, like it suddenly mattered.

The humans had even picked up on everyone's attention and had become curious about me too.

My pack mates all asked the same question.

How could Torin Frey, the pack runt, be the Mate of Robby Killian?

Why would the Moon Goddess do that?

I'm nothing special.

No one would believe how many times I was approached and asked to join a group of friends at lunch.

All I wanted was to eat my chicken tenders in peace.

Instead, I was faced with fake smiles and judging eyes.

I'm not blind... I know what they want and it's not friendship.

Why had I hated the peacefulness of being ignored by the entire pack?

I wished to have that back... now, please.

To sum it up, school sucked... more so than it usually does.

When the final bell rung, I had to force myself not to shove everyone out of my way and run out of the building screaming bloody murder.

Instead, I kept my head down and tried to become invisible again.

When I finally got out of the building, my eyes instantly went to the male leaning against his shiny car.

Sunglasses covered his eyes but I knew they were on me too.

The sly smirk that lifted one side of his lips made me shiver and it wasn't because of the cold.

Gulping, my feet seemed to have a mind of their own as I walked towards him.

I really wanted to run home.

Not knowing what to do or say, I resorted to something familiar.

"Hello, Robert."

My smile was sickly sweet as I watched his jaw tick in annoyance.

"Hello, Thomason," Robert retorted.

My eyes narrowed on the male.

This was all mom's fault.

I'd done such a fantastic job with keeping my middle name a secret.

Robert reached out for me and I slapped his hand away, my face burning as I glanced around at everyone blatantly watching us.

Robert seemed to finally notice them and he leaned closer to whisper in my ear.

"Ignore them or give them a show worth watching."

He removed his glasses and I couldn't help but to get caught up in his warm eyes.

They reminded me of chocolate chips.

Taking his advice, I stepped forward to hug him.

Finally relaxing after the stressful day as his scent surrounded me and his arms locked me against him.

I didn't want to leave this cocoon of warmth and safety where I belonged.

Moon Goddess, look at what you've done... are you happy now?

"Let's get out of here," Robby murmured, although his arms still kept me pressed against him.

I hummed, rubbing my face against his chest and unconsciously scent marking him.

A throat cleared beside us and I jerked away from Robert, my face burning as I realized what I'd been doing and in front of the school no less.

"What?" Robby growled irritably.

I glanced up at him before looking at Jasper who stood there awkwardly.

"Um... do I still get a ride home?" he asked, his tone unsure as he looked between us.

Robert pulled me against his side possessively, glaring at his brother.

What the crap?

I pinched his side, making the Alpha male grunt.

"Get in the back."

It made no sense for Jasper to get in the back if he could sit up front.

His legs are too long but Robert didn't seem to care and Jasper didn't argue with him.

I shot Robert a glare over the top of the car before getting in.

The ride to the pack house was spent with me removing Robert's hand from my thigh until he grabbed my hand and refused to let it go.

Jasper was sitting the backseat, watching us shoot glares at each other.

Eventually though, I gave in and let my hand rest over his on the gear shift.

My excuse was not wanting to die from his horrible driving.

It had nothing to do with actually wanting the contact.

What made him think he could keep touching me?

Pouting, I got out of the car after he cut it off and let Jasper crawl out of the back.

He waved at us as he jogged inside, leaving me alone with Robert.

"I got you a birthday present," Robert said cheerfully once I got back in the car.

Looking at him suspiciously, I watched him pull out something from his pocket.

Mom and Dad have been the only ones to get me gifts.

The family would send cards with money but that's about it.

I never expected anything more.

Robert held up the keychain in front of my face and I looked at it for a long minute.

The Alpha male snickered at the look on my face as I stared at the toilet paper keychain.

"You're such an idiot," I huffed, snatching it from him and stuffing it in my pocket.

It didn't matter that he was only teasing me, it's the first gift from my Mate.

I squeaked when he leaned over and pressed his lips to my cheek, causing my face to catch on fire.

"Torin," Robert said and I looked up at him, surprised by how serious he sounded.

"It may not seem like you have much of a choice but I want you to know you do... if this Mating isn't something you want... I'll understand."

His eyes looked into mine, trying to get across that he meant what he said.

"You're my Mate," I stated simply.

"You're not getting rid of me."

Robby chuckled, grabbing the front of my jacket and pulling me to him.

Like every other time he's kissed me, I didn't put up much of a fight.

Instead I let him pull me onto him lap so I was straddling him, our lips never parting.

His hands started wandering, trailing down my back until they were on my bottom.

I didn't even care... I was so far gone already, letting him ravish my mouth with his dominating kiss.

His scent made my thoughts cloudy and all I wanted was to be closer to him.

To be as close as I possibly could be.

A knock on the window broke me out of it though and I looked up to see my Mom glaring at the two of us.

Multiple pack members were outside the house watching, ready to see what would happen.

Not good... not good at all.

[curseofbreadbear]

[To Jeremy's surprise, Bell actually acknowledged the possibility that the animatronics had recognized him and treated him with hostility; then again, that might have been the most plausible part of his worries. From what he could recall, their facial recognition software tapped into a criminal database, so maybe they thought he was somebody dangerous...? Maybe there was a huge glitch in all of their systems causing them to recognize any adult as a "threat." The idea was almost comforting, if only because there was some rationality behind it.]

[Maybe it was all in his head, after all.]

[Though...it felt unusual for the animatronics to react with killer instinct instead of just alerting staff, in either case. Jeremy hadn't really been filled in on the protocol for when the animatronics identified criminals ( that was presumably part of the day staff's job ), but it didn't seem plausible for them to be programmed to kill or express anger. As ridiculous as it was, Jeremy would stand his ground on the whole "they wanted to hurt me" angle...unless tonight's shift proved him wrong.]

[Just as quickly as Bell expressed his worry, he returned to his usual demeanor, forcing a smile and assuring Jeremy that everything was fine. Bell was a higher-up, but maybe he wasn't high enough to escape from the company's thumb...either that, or he also wanted to believe in a best-case scenario. Jeremy wasn't sure how to feel about either scenario.]

❝ S-Sure thing, Mr. Bell. I'm sure they'll act up again tonight. ❞ [Ugh. He'd have an extra hand on deck, one who would presumably offer some support, but a pit formed in his stomach anyway. This could always go horribly wrong, especially if the animatronics continued to get more and more aggressive.] ❝ You did say you had an extra Freddy head, right? Y-You're gonna need it. ❞

[Jeremy smiled weakly as Bell laughed; he might have been less high-strung if his shifts hadn't been as horrific and life-threatening as they were, but alas. He could at least try to enjoy what time he had left -- before his shift, that is.]

[Bell reassured him that everything would be okay, resting a hand on his shoulder; Jeremy relaxed ever so slightly, his smile becoming a bit less strained. When Bell said that, Jeremy really, really wanted it to be true.]

❝ Thank you, sir. ❞

[Jeremy awkwardly rubbed the back of his head as Bell tried to encourage some self-care -- that was definitely something Jeremy could benefit from, but he wasn't sure he could eat or relax until his shift was over. On top of being restless, he may or may not have been ignoring his appetite. Could he really help it when his stomach felt ready to expunge itself at any given moment?]

❝ Honestly? I-I think I need everything to be set up before I can even think about eating... ❞ [Only when he felt safe and/or prepared would his stomach ease up on him. Since another person would be tagging along ( a higher-up, at that ), he worried he might have to take on even more responsibility to make sure nothing went wrong. Bell was the one to leave all of those instructions, sure, but he probably hadn't done any of it himself. The animatronics had gotten worse and worse each night, so if either of them even hesitated to hide their face or flash that light...]

[Jeremy shuddered.] ❝ Um...have you ever been on the night shift, sir? ❞

It's not a question of doubting them, it's a question of logic--or so Steven tells himself. What Jeremy is reporting shouldn't be possible, so isn't it more likely that the guy's just a little too jumpy for his own good?

...Bell supposes he'll find out tonight. Babysitting patrons on day shift is one thing, but babysitting his own employee? He half hopes that Fitzgerald is actually onto something just so this doesn't turn out to be a huge waste of time.

"That's... yeah, that would be an issue." A hint of genuine worry furrows his brow and Steven glances away, thinking. Maybe it's not a problem of not recognizing the night guard as a person, but instead an issue of mistaking him for a threat? These machines do have complex databases and protocols when it comes to assessing for criminal presence. Maybe something's gone wrong there, and Jeremy's been the victim of a false positive?

But even so, actual harm should be out of the question. It just doesn't add up.

"No use speculating until I've seen it for myself," Steven mutters, glancing back at Jeremy to offer a tight-lipped smile.

"Yeah? I'll hold you to that, Mr. Fitzgerald." His tone is warmer than it has been, some of his tension draining away as he laughs. Jeremy's not a bad kid, and it'll only be one night. Who knows? It might be fun to hang out after-hours, see what the band gets up to when they don't have to perform. Steven isn't sure what's gotten into their circuits, but one thing's for sure:

"Everything will be fine."

He sets a warm hand on Jeremy's shoulder to prove it.

"Let's get you ready for tonight, okay? Have you eaten yet? We still have some time to set up, you just let me know what I can do to set you at ease. This is, uh, your time to shine!"