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littlestarofthewest · 5 years

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Gahd I love your kinky fics!! Pls can u do one with a younger femreader & arthur? Like they like each other but she's younger so he's hesitant to start but then just shows her how a man his age gets it done *wink wink* I'm not into the daddykink but I do like an age gap haha I know youve just done creampie (it was so daamn good!!) but pls pls creampie & dirty talk 🤤 how Javier opened her up....I can imagine Arthur loving that 😂 ps. Honestly best fics out there! ♥️ Thanks for the prompts again!

Thank you for all the love, dear

Also dedicating this to @emily-strange who had a very similar request (you two should talk xD). Sorry I kept you waiting for so long (since freaking December).

Title: Young Love | Word Count: 9352 | Rating: Explicit!!! (18+)

Pairing: Arthur Morgan & female reader | Tags: angst and fluff and smut

Arthur has no idea what it is that makes you so different. Back when he and John rescued you, you were just a young girl that needed help, and by now, he wishes he would still feel about you this way.

For months, Arthur tried to treat you like Mary-Beth or Tilly, a young girl that could very well be his sister. It’s just that you make it so hard for him. You’re not naive and silly like some 19-year-olds Arthur met, and although you’re more on the shy side, you still have a way of teasing him with winks and smiles that shouldn’t affect him as much as they do.

In the beginning, Arthur fell headfirst into your trap. He rescued you, after all, so you tended to stick to him, and Arthur let you. You were easy to talk to, with a hunger for knowledge and a good sense of humor, not easily offended when he spoke out of tune.

When it became clear that you would stay with the gang, Arthur and John taught you how to shoot, and you went on hunts with Charles. After a while, Hosea also allowed you to take part in little heists, Arthur always by your side to make sure you were safe.

It started then that he began to see you in a different light. You were smart and cunning, using your innocence to lure people in. Men, in particular, are unable to withstand your shy smile, and Arthur found himself to be one of them.

It’s not that you used it against him, but whenever you asked something of him, there was no way for him to say no. Soon, Hosea found bigger jobs for the two of you, calling you a great team. You ended up on the road a lot, often just the two of you.

Arthur did his best to act respectively, but you seemed so comfortable around him that you sometimes didn’t care much about decency. He got to see more of your long legs and your cleavage than was good for him, and you had no trouble touching him or sleeping closeby when sharing a tent.

Slowly but surely, Arthur got more and more enticed by you, and it got so bad that he dreamt about you in ways that were anything but decent. Soon, those dreams and reality blurred together, and Arthur found himself staring at you at the worst of times, imagining all kinds of inappropriate things.

Today, Arthur would give anything to not be in camp. It’s your 20th birthday, and since it’s your first one since you’ve joined the gang, Dutch announced a little celebration. Arthur gave you his present, a new hunting knife, early in the morning, and ever since then, he tried to stay away from you.

Now, Arthur‘s sitting on a log farthest away from the fire, nursing a beer in his hand. The others are going to town with whiskey and rum, the alcohol taking its toll. Karen is sitting on Sean’s lap, the two of them the loudest but not the best at singing along to the songs Javier plays.

Once in a while, Uncle chimes in with the banjo, causing some laughs. Soon, most of the gang is drunk enough to dance around the fire. John and Abigail do a surprisingly decent job, not arguing for a change, while Lenny tortures your feet.

Arthur can tell that you’re soldiering on, but while Lenny is kind and wicked smart, he’s still not the most skilled when it comes to dancing. When Hosea gets up from his seat, Arthur hopes that he might release you, and he actually claps Lenny’s shoulder.

“My dear boy, I fear you need some more practice before we can let you dance with the ladies.“

Everybody laughs, and you give Lenny an apologetic smile, but he just shrugs, not taking offense. Arthur’s sure Hosea will take over now, showing Lenny how to do a better job, but instead, he turns around.

“This lady deserves a decent birthday dance,“ Hosea says. "Arthur? Would you be so kind?“

All eyes dart to Arthur, and he wishes the ground would open up and swallow him whole. He loves Hosea with all his heart, but sometimes he would like to smack him.

"Arthur can’t dance,“ Sean blurts out, saying out loud what everybody else must be thinking.

Dutch laughs at the heartfelt announcement. "No see, there’s a big difference between not being able to do something and deliberately denying the world your gift.“

Arthur shakes his head, ready to disappoint both Hosea and Dutch, but then Hosea points at you. "Come on, you can’t say no to a birthday dance with this lovely young lady.“

That’s exactly the problem. You’re young, way too young for Arthur, and he can’t say no to you, not ever. Looking into your curious face, Arthur puts down the bottle and gets to his feet. Hosea pats his shoulder, and Dutch applauds as if they already watched a great show.

"Now watch and learn, gentlemen,“ he cheers.

Arthur does his best to ignore everybody else, his eyes focused on you. A tingling feeling rushes through his body the second he takes your hand, and he leads you away from the fire to have more room. Besides, it will be easier to talk to you without the others hearing what he says.

"I’ll have to put my hand on your back,“ Arthur warns you, wishing he could say something that would turn you away, but you just smile at him.

"It’s alright, Arthur,“ you say, amusement in your voice, "I know how dancing works.“

Arthur swallows hard when he puts his hand in place on the small of your back. You rest your hand on his shoulder, and just like so many times before, you have no problem with being near him. Taking a step forward, you close the gap between Arthur and you, and he feels like dying when your body presses warm against his own.

Counting in a whisper, Arthur tries to give you an idea when to start, and then you’re off. Although Arthur hasn’t danced in years, it all comes back to him now. Just like shooting a gun, it’s something you do without thinking. Lead by Arthur, you have no trouble following along, and some of the gang members even whistle and cheer.

By the time the song is over, Arthur has a hard time letting you go. Still pressed against him, your chest rises and falls with the exhausted breaths you take, your face flushed, and your hair a little looser and out of place from being swirled around. You look as if you and Arthur did something way more indecent than dancing, the picture searing itself into Arthur’s brain.

To make the torture complete, you smile at him as if he just hung the moon, going on tiptoes to press a kiss on his cheek. "Thank you, Arthur.”

There’s clapping from around the campfire before Dutch and Hosea take turns telling stories about heists where their dancing skills were essential. When Arthur is sure that nobody focuses on him anymore, he takes the chance to sneak away, heading into the nearby woods.

On the first day at the new campsite, Arthur found a hidden arch in between two big trees that leads to a small meadow. He leans against a tree with closed eyes, filling his lungs with fresh evening air, trying his best not to think about the dance. Of course, he ends up thinking just about that, and especially about how you looked afterward.

“Arthur?"

Your voice draws Arthur out of his daydream. It’s not you in his imagination, but you’re really in front of him. "What?”

“I’m sorry,” you say in that timid voice you use when you think you did something wrong, “I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

“No, it’s alright.” Arthur pushes himself off of the tree. “Just didn’t think anybody knew of this place.”

“I found it a day after we made camp,” you say, twisting the fabric of your skirt with your fingers.

Arthur knows that it’s a habit of you that only shows when you’re nervous. He’s not used to seeing it when the two of you are alone.

“Is there something you need?” he asks, thinking that you might have some sort of problem.

“I wanted to ask you something,” you say, still fidgeting with your skirt. “I know you’ve already given me a great present, but there’s something else I wish for, and you’re the only one I want to ask for it.”

Arthur’s heart pounds faster. It’s as if you know that he won’t be able to say no, and since you’re asking him in the middle of the woods, it’s probably something more than just a request for more shooting lessons. Still, Arthur can’t help himself. It’s you, after all, so he has to ask. “What is it?”

“In Mary-Beth’s novels, people always have these great kisses, but all the boys I’ve met were just-” You don’t finish the sentence, but Arthur has been a 19-year-old boy himself. They often aren’t that great with romance and tenderness.

You take a step towards Arthur, making his heart almost leap out of his chest. “I’m 20 years old now,” you continue with a sigh, looking up at him. “All I want is one real kiss. With a real man. Like you.”

Arthur can tell how hard it is for you to say this, your voice getting quieter with every word while the blood rushing through his veins becomes so loud that he can hardly hear you. Still, you manage to hold his gaze when he’s looking for words.

“Those are just books, ya know?” Arthur says.

It’s the wrong thing to say. You shrink like fruit in the hot sun, all hope draining from your face to be replaced by sadness. Arthur hates to see you like this, especially when he’s the reason for it. But what else can he say? It’s not his place to give you any kisses. The way he thinks about you is already shameful enough.

“You’re right,” you finally say, your voice near tears. “It’s stupid. I shouldn’t have asked.”

You turn around, and Arthur’s heart stands still. He failed you. After promising to protect you, he hurt you more than anybody else. And why? Because of stupid rules. It’s not like you’re asking for something terrible. Just a kiss. Just a favor from a friend.

“Wait,” Arthur says, the word barely more than a whisper.

You turn back around, and Arthur takes your hand, tugging just enough to have you come back to him. You look up to him, waiting for an explanation, but he knows he doesn’t have the words for this. Instead, Arthur cups your face with his hand, pulling you closer.

He feels like he’s drowning in your eyes, unable to stop now, so he leans in to close the gap between you. Arthur can hear you taking a shaky breath, his own chest feeling like it’s about to burst. He’s never considered himself a great kisser, but he tries to be gentle with you, knowing all too well what novels you’ve been reading.

At first, your lips barely touch, Arthur still giving you a chance to stop. Instead, you lean into it. Arthur puts his hand onto the small of your back the same way he did during the dance, drawing you in before pressing another soft kiss to your lips. Your hands come to rest against his chest, sending waves of heat through his body.

Arthur knows that this should be it. You got your kiss after all, but something deep in his soul keeps him in place. It kept screaming and clawing at him for months, telling him how much he wanted to be with you. You mentioning other boys kissing you awakened a horrible ache in Arthur, raging like a fire that consumes him.

Despite telling himself over and over that he can’t be with you, Arthur longs to have so much more with you. The thought that someone could take you away is killing him, forcing him to hold on to you.

Arthur teases your lip with his tongue, and you eagerly open up for him, giving him a sweet taste of what could be. His hand runs down from your face along your neck, touching soft, warm skin before it ventures deeper. Arthur caresses your side, his fingers trailing along the curve of your breast and down to your hip.

With his other hand moving down to the swell of your ass, Arthur pulls you even closer, deepening the kiss. Your hot tongue brushes against his own, the sensation so overwhelming that everything around the two of you blurs.

Arthur gets lost in your kisses, the warmth of your body, your scent, and all the promises your body makes, pressed against him like a second skin. His fingers claw into the flesh on your hips as he rubs himself against you, lust tightening his pants.

You let out a soft moan, and from one second to the next, the world shifts back into focus. Searing pain shoots through Arthur’s body as if hit by lightning. This isn’t one of his fantasies where he’s allowed to be with you. It’s real, and it’s you. A girl who deserves so much better than him.

Arthur steps away from you in a hurry, his tone harsh as he barks at you. “Go back to camp!”

You take a step toward him, reaching out. “But Arthur-”

“Goddamn, girl! Go back to camp, right now!”

Arthur’s never thought that he’d be able to even raise his voice when talking to you, but now he shouts, making you freeze on the spot. You stare at him for a few seconds before you finally come to your senses. You turn around and rush through the trees, running from him like a startled deer.

With a growl, Arthur turns around, punching his fist against the nearest tree at full force. He’d hoped the pain would drive out the thoughts about you, but even with his knuckles bleeding, it’s not enough. Memories rush into his mind, of you looking at him, talking to him, touching him.

Arthur remembers the dance with every detail, and even worse, the kiss you just shared. Usually, it’s a gift to see something and be able to draw it right from his memory, but now it becomes a curse. He’ll never forget the taste of your lips, the way you held on to him, how your body melted against his. In dark, lonely nights, he’ll remember that enticing sound you made when he pushed himself against you.

You didn’t shy away from his touches, and Arthur realizes with horror that you might have let him do even more. You asked him for a kiss, but that’s rarely where the stories end. Maybe, you would have wanted more. Maybe, you would have allowed him to have you, right then and there, on the forest floor.

With a grunt, Arthur frees himself from his pants, stroking his cock so hard that it’s more painful than pleasurable. The thoughts consume him, the memories of you so vivid as if you were still there.

It doesn’t take Arthur long to reach his peak, his cock throbbing, hot spurs of come shooting against the bark of the tree in front of him. Tucking himself away, Arthur watches as it trickles down. Out of control as he is, he could have done such horrible things to you.

Consumed by shame, Arthur walks back through the trees, a plan forming in his mind. If he wants to protect you, he can’t be near you until he’s ingrained it in himself that he can never have you. Arthur has to go - far away.

——–

You have a hard time focusing on your work, looking up again and again to sneak a peek at Arthur across camp. If you keep going like that, the water will be ice cold until you’re done washing all the clothes, and Miss Grimshaw will have your head. Still, you can’t keep yourself from doing it, almost like you need to have your fill of Arthur before he disappears again.

With a sigh, you remember the time after your kiss. In the morning, Arthur was gone, only Hosea knowing where he went. He didn’t come back for four weeks, and when he did, he avoided you at all costs. You barely got to see Arthur at all for about three months after that. He either was in his tent or out of camp altogether.

Over the last month, Arthur stayed more often and didn’t leave the second you showed up. You at least got a “good morning” out of him every day, and once in a while, you had brief conversations about the weather or the latest successful jobs of the other gang members.

You feel like it still might take quite some time before things could go back to normal, if at all. You don’t blame Arthur, though. You risked your friendship over a stupid crush, using his kindness to trick him into getting what you wanted.

Of course, you should have known that Arthur didn’t feel the same way as you. To him, you must be nothing but a stupid little girl that needs constant supervision and help. You asked Arthur for a real kiss from a real man, ignoring that you didn’t even come close to being a real woman.

After all this time, you still can’t forget how Arthur kissed you, giving you all that you wanted while you had nothing to offer in return. All you could do now is to apologize and beg Arthur for forgiveness.

With another sigh, you go back to scrubbing the laundry. When you carry the basket with the wet clothes through camp to hang them up to dry, Hosea and Arthur walk past you. You give them a quick nod, keeping up appearances for Hosea’s sake. Arthur looks up, and it’s the first time that you get to hold eye contact with him for more than a second.

“Mylady,” he says, his voice soft.

The two men keep walking without pause, but you almost trip, your heart pounding. It’s been so long that Arthur had a kind word for you, but the familiar greeting brings you right back into the time before the kiss when everything was alright.

Your eyes fill with tears, and you do your best to quickly blink them away, but when you begin to hang up the clothes, Mary-Beth walks over to you.

“Are you alright?” she asks, leaning over to get a better look at your face.

“Sure,” you answer, focusing on the laundry.

From the corner of your eye, you can see Mary-Beth looking over to Arthur. “I didn’t mean to say anything. After all, it’s your business if you get along with Arthur, but this? If he makes you cry in the middle of camp, I’ll have a word with him. I mean it.”

You’ve never seen Mary-Beth talking so fiercely, and usually, she adores Arthur. That she would pick a fight with him over you makes your heart melt.

“It’s not him, it’s me,” you explain. “I did something foolish, and Arthur is right to be angry at me. I appreciate that you’re trying to help, but please don’t say anything to him.”

“But the crying,” Mary-Beth insists.

“Happy tears,” you say, giving her a big smile. “I think it’s going to be alright again.”

Mary-Beth looks back and forth between you and Arthur before pulling out a handkerchief and giving it to you. “Fine. But if there’s anything you need, please tell me.”

“I will. Thank you, Mary-Beth. You’re the best.”

She blushes a little and finally walks away, giving you another chance to look over to Arthur. You almost get caught when he and Hosea come your way.

“Can we have a word?” Hosea asks you with a smile, and you almost drop the shirt you’re holding.

You can’t believe that Arthur would tell Hosea about the kiss, but you can’t think of anything else they would want to talk about. “Sure,” you say, your fingers playing with the wet fabric in your hand while your heart pounds so hard that you wonder if they can hear it.

“I’ve got some information about a rich couple that moved from the city into a cabin up north. Really secluded, good spot if you know how to live off the land,” Hosea explains, giving you a chance to breathe again. It’s about a job. Nothing more.

“And they know how to do that?” you ask.

Hosea smiles. “Not from what I hear. I want Arthur and you to go up there and check it out. You might be able to charm them, offer your help. Maybe you can find out if they still got more riches left in the city.”

“Or we could just rob them,” Arthur says, his voice barely audible, but Hosea nudges his elbow into Arthur’s side.

“Don’t act like the brute, Arthur. We both know you’re much more than that.”

You know that to be true, but Arthur just grunts as if he doubts Hosea’s words. You wish you could tell him otherwise, but you don’t even dare to look at him.

Hosea takes a piece of paper out of his jacket and hands it to Arthur. “That’s the place.”

Arthur studies what looks like a hand-drawn map while rubbing his beard. “I say we head out right now. If we make camp when it gets dark, we should be able to reach the cabin tomorrow by noon.”

You wait for Hosea to answer, but when he stays silent, you look up to find the two men looking at you, and you realize Arthur’s talking to you, not Hosea.

“Oh, sure,” you hurry to say, “just let me finish up here, and I’ll get my things.”

“Great,” Hosea says, “glad to have the two of you on this. I was worried I’d have to send Bill.”

He winks at you and walks away, leaving you alone with Arthur. You rack your brain what to say, but Arthur beats you to it. “I was kinda planning on wearing that again.”

You stare at him, drowning in his eyes until he nods to your hands. You’ve been wringing the shirt between your fingers, only now seeing that it’s one of Arthur’s. “Oh, of course. I just-"

You turn around on the spot, hastily going back to work. "I’ll meet you at the horses,” Arthur says behind you. His voice is warm, flowing down your back like a sweet caress. It tightens your chest how much you missed him talking to you.

“I’ll be just a minute,” you manage to say, only able to catch your breath once you hear Arthur walking away.

After finishing the laundry, you pack what you’ll need for the trip and say goodbye to the other girls. Mary-Beth gives you a wary look when she hears that you’re riding out with Arthur, but you give her a big smile to reassure her that you’re alright.

Not that you are. On the one hand, you’re looking forward to working with Arthur again, and the trip might finally give you a chance to apologize, but on the other hand, you’re nervous as hell. It’s been so long since you’ve been alone with Arthur, and he might still be angry with you.

With your heart almost beating out of your chest, you walk over to Arthur. He already saddled up your horse, checking if everything is in place on his own mare.

“Hey,” you say, trying to make him aware of you.

“You ready?” he asks, not looking up from what he’s doing.

“Yes, I am,” you say, and when he stays silent, you feel the need to keep him engaged. “Where are we even going?”

Finally, Arthur looks at you before handing you the map Hosea gave him. When you reach for the paper, your fingers brush over Arthur’s skin. It’s warm and so weirdly familiar that this brief touch tightens your chest again while Arthur gets back to his work.

You stare at the map, trying hard to level your breathing without Arthur noticing. Finally, Arthur pulls himself up on his horse. “Ready to go?” he asks, and you quickly climb onto your mare.

As you head out on the narrow path, you hold the map out to Arthur. He takes it back, his fingertips trailing over your skin this time. Arthur doesn’t react at all, but your body fills with heat, brought on by the memories that have been haunting you for months.

Your horse keeps pace with Arthur’s while your mind drifts off, remembering how everything started. At first, you were just thankful for Arthur saving you. Even in your short life, you had to learn that there were evil people in the world, especially men when faced with a young girl. Arthur was nothing like that.

Despite his own claims to the contrary, you can’t bring yourself to think of him as bad. He might be robbing people, but he doesn’t lay a finger on them. Just like he always respected you. At first, you thought of him as a good friend, a little bitter or sarcastic at times, but also funny, kind, and awfully sweet if he wanted to be.

Your feelings for him changed one day when Arthur helped you down from one of the wagons when the gang was moving camp. He waved at you with outstretched arms before lifting you down. You held on to his broad shoulders while his large hands closed warm around your waist. He set you down on the ground and smiled, having your heart pounding like crazy.

Maybe you’ve read too many of Mary-Beth’s books, hoping for so much more than there was, but everything changed after this moment. You found yourself staring at Arthur at all times, and somehow he turned from a friend to a man. You were always aware of his body and his voice, your body reacting to him in ways that often took your breath away.

After a while, you found yourself wanting more, and when Hosea sent you on all these jobs together, you even tried to seduce Arthur. Not that you had much experience on how to do that, but usually, a little naked skin and closeness does the trick for most men. Arthur didn’t react at all, not even when sleeping with you in the same tent, making you want him even more.

And then there was your birthday. The dance put a final nail into your coffin. There was something about the way Arthur held you, how he effortlessly made you follow him, and twirled you around. You wanted for him to do more, to take you like those confident men who swept the women off their feet in the books.

Arthur disappearing into the trees was a siren’s call to you, and when he walked to that secluded meadow, it seemed like fate. This could have been your fairytale, so you put up all your courage, offering yourself to him. You imagined it many times, but then Arthur kissed you in a way that was beyond your wildest dreams. You asked for a real kiss but never thought that it could be that good.

Despite Arthur’s anger, you still can’t fully regret what you did. Now that Arthur showed you how he feels, you have to make your peace knowing that you’ll never be with him. But no matter if you die alone or find another man, you’ll at least have the memory of one perfect kiss.

“Are you hearing me?”

Arthur’s voice only slowly reaches your ears, stopping you from wallowing in your memories. “What?”

“Let’s head for the saloon over there. They might have rooms.”

You stare in the direction of his outstretched hand, your mind racing. You planned to apologize to Arthur once you made camp, in the silence of the night. You won’t have a chance for that in a noisy saloon.

“But it’s still early,” you say. “We can make a few more miles until dusk.”

Arthur’s already steering his horse off the road. “We don’t have to. We already made more than half of the way. You’re better off with a real meal and a bed to sleep in.”

You bite your lip, hating that Arthur messes up your plan by looking out for you. It’s infuriating and sweet at the same time, the embodiment of Arthur.

After hitching your horses outside, you venture into the saloon. For such a secluded place, it has quite the amount of customers, even more so considering the early hour. You walk to the bar with Arthur, where he orders two whiskeys, but before you’re able to drink, he suddenly taps your shoulder. “Excuse me for a second. I know these men over there.”

He walks over to a table where a bunch of rowdy fellers play poker, leaving you with a burning sensation where he touched you. You make up for it by downing one of the two glasses in one go, contemplating to drink the other, too.

“Now, who would let a sweet girl like you drink alone?”

The high pitched voice behind you sends a shiver down your spine. You’ve had men talk to you like this many times, but it hasn’t happened since you’ve joined the gang. When you were out, you always had someone like Arthur or Charles with you who kept idiots at bay without even trying.

“I’m not alone,” you say, trying to spot Arthur, but you’re suddenly surrounded by four men.

The one who spoke to you before comes closer, putting an arm up on the bar to box you in. “I don’t see nobody.”

“My husband will be back any second,” you say, hating how weak your voice sounds.

The man gives you a wide grin, presenting his half-rotten teeth. “He’s not here now, missy. Only you and us.”

He trails his fingers over your hand, and you react without thinking. Using the element of surprise, you duck below his arm, sidestepping another guy before he can grab you. Basically flying through the room, you reach Arthur, immediately clinging to his arm.

Both Arthur and the men at the table are staring at you in surprise, but nothing in this world could make you let go off Arthur now. “I missed you at the bar,” you say, trying to sound casual, but your voice is shaking a little.

Arthur takes a look at them, and his eyes narrow, a wild look appearing in them while you can see the muscles of his jaw clenching. He reaches into his pocket before turning back to the men at the table. “Anyway, I just wanted to pay back what I owe,” he says, handing a few dollars to one of the men, “no hard feelings, right?”

The man counts the money, a smile coming onto his face. “Of course, no hard feelings,” he says, sharing the money with the other men.

“Have a good day, gentlemen,” Arthur says, tipping his head.

As Arthur turns, he pries your hand away from his arm, prompting you to protest, but then he puts his arm around you, his hand resting on your hip as you walk back to the bar. Arthur orders more drinks and keeps standing so close that you can feel his body against yours.

“So that’s your husband, missy?” the man with the high voice asks from the other end of the bar, letting your blood run cold. You forgot to mention that little detail to Arthur.

“Excuse me?” Arthur asks, an edge to his voice that you know. It never ends well for the person he’s talking to.

The man sneers at him. “I’m talking to her.”

“You don’t talk to my wife,” Arthur says, the words making you shiver. Then he steps in front of you, shielding you from view with his whole body.

The two men stare at each other in silence, and you know that something terrible is about to happen. The man moves his arm, there’s a loud bang, and then he falls backward, blood trickling down his forehead. All eyes are on him as he collides with the floor, his gun slipping out of his hand.

Deep down, you seem to relive every lesson about shooting a gun that Arthur and John have given you. You step around Arthur, pulling his second gun out of its holster and pointing it right at the man’s face nearest to you. He stares down the barrel with wide eyes while Arthur trains his gun on one of the others. You know you’re outnumbered, but you won’t go down without a fight, and everybody in the saloon just saw that Arthur might be quicker than them.

The men look back and forth between you and Arthur, contemplating if they can take you. Before it can come to that, the poker players get to their feet, taking position behind you and Arthur. The man who took Arthur’s money rests his hand on his gun.

“The way I see it, your friend here was outta line. That’s really no way to talk to a married woman.” He looks around, and the other men in the saloon give small nods to agree with him. “I suggest you take him out of here and be on your way. We wanna play in peace, you understand?”

The men don’t move until Arthur slowly lowers his gun. You follow his lead, and the man in front of you steps back. They put their guns away to pick up the body and quickly make their way outside.

“Thank you,” Arthur says to the poker players, and the man who spoke just shrugs.

“Never liked those fellers anyway. You fancy a game?”

“No, we’ll better be on our way.”

“Suit yourself.”

The men go back to their game while Arthur puts his hand on your back, leading you outside. He unties the horses, constantly looking around.

“Why are we going?” you say, your heart still pounding from what just happened. “Wouldn’t we be safer with these guys?”

“These guys are only friendly for a prize,” Arthur says. “And the men who left was O'Driscolls. I bet they’ll be back in numbers. We don’t want to be here when that happens.”

Arthur gets on his horse and holds out his hand to you. “Come on.”

“I have my own horse.”

“I won’t let you ride alone when those guys might come up behind us.”

Arthur just shot a guy because he didn’t like the way he talked to you. It’s probably useless to argue with him now. You take his hand, and he lifts you up with ease. “Hold on,” he says, and you happily reach around his waist, pressing yourself against his back.

Arthur spurs on his horse, quickly bringing it into a gallop, barely giving you time to whistle for your own horse to follow. You ride hard until the sun begins to go down. Arthur checks both sides of the road to find a good spot for camp, and you end up on a hilltop. A few large boulders shield you from view while the higher ground lets you see for miles in any direction. There’s no chance that anybody could sneak up on you here.

You get a fire going, and Arthur sets up a tent while you try to make a decent meal out of the provisions you brought along. When Arthur is done, he sits down on his bedroll, and you hand him a steaming bowl.

“It’s not the decent meal you were talking about earlier,” you say, feeling guilty that Arthur’s plans got all messed up because of you.

“I’m sure it’s fine,” Arthur says, bringing the bowl closer to smell its content. “I remember the great meals you used to make on our last jobs.”

You almost joke about that being a wife’s job, but while Arthur backed up your lie in the saloon, he might not find it funny. Instead, you eat your food in silence. When Arthur’s finished, he takes out his journal and writes, leaving you to stare into the fire. Everything is so nice and peaceful, you’re not quite sure if you should apologize to Arthur at all. What if that only rips open old wounds?

Sneaking a look at Arthur, you can see the difference in how he moves his pencil. He’s no longer writing but draws something. You tell yourself that it’s none of your business, but you’ve always loved Arthur’s art, and you are one of the few people he sometimes shows it to. Hoping that this might be something you can talk about, you crawl over to Arthur.

“What are you drawing?”

Arthur puts the pages together for a moment, looking like he’s embarrassed, but then he opens the journal and hands it to you. The drawing shows a campfire with a woman sitting in front of it, staring into the flames. You.

“You’re so good at this,” you say, your eyes fixed on the page.

“Good at something useless,” Arthur grunts.

You have to disagree. It’s still a mystery to you how someone can capture life and emotions with a pencil and paper. The woman in the drawing looks lost, though. You won’t be able to just forget what happened, you have to talk to Arthur.

Putting down the journal, you take a deep breath. “Arthur, I’m sorry.”

He studies your face for a long moment, deep in thought. “Sorry for what?”

“The kiss,” you blurt out before you lose your courage. “You’ve always been such a good friend, and I took advantage of that. I asked you because I knew that you wouldn’t say no. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“I shouldn’t have yelled at you,” Arthur says, and you feel like hitting him for taking any of the blame.

“You were right to be angry. I should have known that you’d never feel the same way about me.”

Arthur takes a deep breath as if it’s hard for him to say the following words. “If you was a little older, or I was a bit younger-”

Arthur trails off, but your heart is already pounding. You thought that Arthur doesn’t feel anything for you, but here he is, drawing your picture and worrying about your age, not angry about the kiss at all.

“I thought you didn’t like me, Arthur.”

“Jesus, girl,” Arthur huffs, almost amused, “of course I like you. You’re right out perfect. It just doesn’t matter what I feel. It’s just not right.”

“It matters to me,” you say, your voice breathless as hope blooms in your heart, “I don’t care about the age difference.”

Arthur’s lost for words for a moment, but then he shrugs. “It’s not just that. You deserve way better than me.”

Usually, you’re not one to get your way. You accept what others tell you and move on, putting their wishes above yours. This can’t be one of those times. It’s too important, and you couldn’t live with yourself if you didn’t try everything to be happy.

“I might be young, but I’m not naive or stupid. I know that you’re not perfect, but neither are the ranchers who hurt their cattle or the merchants who draw up the prices when the poor can barely pay them,” you say, talking yourself into a frenzy. “Unlike those fancy dressed crooks in the big city, you are so much more.”

Arthur lifts his hand as if to interrupt you, but for once, you don’t let him, continuing your tirade. “I fell in love with you because you’re kind, funny, and caring. You’re not lining your own pockets, but do whatever you have to to help your family and even strangers. You don’t take pleasure from cruelty, but manage to ease other people’s misery and pain. You’re a good person, Arthur. I really don’t see how I could possibly do better.”

Staring at you out of big eyes, Arthur opens his mouth, but nothing comes out until he clears his throat, his voice still hoarse when he speaks. “In love?”

It’s unnerving that this is the one thing Arthur took from this, but you said it, and there’s no point in denying it. “Yes, I love you, Arthur,“ you say, shrugging your shoulders. "I’m old enough to know that I want to be with you. Not a better or younger version of you, but you just the way you are.“

Arthur drops his head, his eyes fixed on the flames in front of him. You would give anything to know what he’s thinking, but you won’t ask. You said everything you wanted to say, and if that’s not enough for Arthur, then there’s nothing you can do.

When Arthur looks back up at you, there’s an expression on his face you’ve never seen before. You can’t tell if it’s good or bad, your heart racing in your chest. All you know is that whatever Arthur’s about to say next will decide your future together.

——–

Everything you said to Arthur is swirling around in his head, making him dizzy. For months, he tried to get over you, and Arthur only agreed to let you come along because he was sure he finally got his feelings under control. He should have known better.

What happened in the saloon showed Arthur how afraid he was to lose you, and calling you his wife, even as a ruse, made him happier than anything in a long time. After what you just told Arthur, the two of you can’t go back to things how they were before, and he has to admit that you’re right. You’re able to make your own decisions, and if you decided – for whatever reason – that you wanted to be with him, then who is he to take that away from you?

Arthur‘s heart sings at the mere thought of giving in. No matter his feelings of right and wrong, nobody can blame him for losing this battle, not if you’re sitting there, begging him with all that you have to allow the two of you to be happy.

When Arthur looks into your eyes, the longing in his heart grows so unbearable that he can’t take it anymore. He opens his arms, inviting you in. "Come here.“

You fly into Arthur’s arms without a second of hesitation, proving once more that he’s doing the right thing. Arthur pulls you into his lap, and you put your arms around his neck, making him look up into your beautiful face.

"I tried for so long,“ he says, defeat in his voice. "I can’t get you out of my head.“

Arthur trails his fingers along your cheek as you smile at him. "You’re not supposed to.“

He draws you in, and you follow, letting him kiss you. Arthur thought there could be nothing better than your first kiss, but nothing compares to this one. This time, there’s nothing bad or shameful about it.

You melt against Arthur’s body, your hands running through his hair while he holds you close, not wanting to let go ever again. Arthur wouldn’t mind staying like this forever, but you roll your hips, grinding against him.

"Arthur, I want you,” you say, looking at him in a way that makes his heart miss a beat, but then you cast your eyes down as if ashamed. “If you want me, too.”

Every impure thought that Arthur had about you rushes through his mind, and he has a hard time not to throw you down to the ground and have his way with you. After all, you deserve much better than that. He’ll respect your wishes, but he still feels like it’s his responsibility to protect you.

“Of course I want you,” he says, his words getting you to look at him again, “but we have time. There’s no need to rush anything.”

“Rush?” I’ve been thinking about this for a long time.“ You let out a little laugh before running your hand over your face as if you want to hide. "I even tried seducing you when we were alone, but you never seemed to care.”

Arthur can’t help that his mouth falls open, thinking about all those times he had to hold himself back. “You did that on purpose?”

“What do you think? I don’t just undress in front of everybody,” you say, playing with the buttons on Arthur’s shirt.

“You gave me such a hard time with that,” Arthur says with a sigh. “This is already bad enough.”

He’s holding you by the hips, feeling how you begin to move on top of him. “Then maybe I should try one more time,” you whisper.

You reach down to unbutton your dress, pushing down your chemise. This time, Arthur looks without reservation before leaning in and kissing the exposed skin. You bury your fingers in his hair, still rolling your hips, and Arthur has to admit to himself that you might not be as innocent as you seem. It makes no sense to treat you like a delicate flower when you’re actually the storm.

Arthur reaches down to hike up your skirt, his fingers trailing along the soft skin of your thighs. You hold still but reach down to help him, pulling your dress up right over your head. It takes a little fumbling, but it’s worth it. Having you sit on top of him in your thin chemise brings heat to Arthur’s whole body, and he can’t help that he’s getting painfully hard in his pants.

There’s a knowing grin on your face, almost as if you’re mocking him, and Arthur can’t take it anymore. He lifts you up and leans forward, carefully putting you down on his bedroll. Without hesitation, Arthur pulls up the skirt, and you wiggle under him, letting him undress you fully.

Arthur can’t remember having seen anything so beautiful in his entire life. In the dim light of the fire, your skin has a lovely glow, your body a perfect combination of straight lines and inviting curves. If he wasn’t so desperate to touch you, Arthur would have loved to draw you like this.

With his fingers, Arthur follows a line from your cheek along your neck, tracing your collarbone and climbing up the swell of your breast. Your nipple hardens under his touch, and Arthur can’t help but lean in and suck it into his mouth. You let out a surprised gasp, soon followed by barely audible moans when Arthur keeps teasing your breasts with both lips and hands.

You reach for him, eagerly pushing down his suspenders, and Arthur comes up for a moment to let you get him out of his shirt. Your eyes roam over his naked chest while your hands massage his muscles, coming to rest on his shoulders. You draw Arthur in, letting him kiss your breasts and stomach while your fingers dig into the skin on his back.

Arthur moves even lower, his hands closing around your thighs. You eagerly open your legs for him, giving him a first look at the sweet locks that cover your mount and lips. Arthur traces his fingers in a swirling line through them before touching your soft center. You gasp again when Arthur pushes between your folds, enticing wetness greeting him.

He wouldn’t mind teasing you some more, but you reach for him, beckoning him to come back to you. “Arthur, please.”

Arthur follows your plea, crawling over your body, his arms propped up next to your face. You pull him in for a kiss, your tongue licking into his mouth as if you might die without his taste. You keep him close like this while your hands wander down his chest and to his pants. You pry them open, getting hot waves to roll all over Arthur’s body.

The anticipation is unbearable, and Arthur moans against your lips when you finally close your fingers around his cock to get him out of his pants. Free from the enclosure, you reward him with slow strokes along his whole lengths, making Arthur bite his lip.

You soothe him with soft kisses, but you’re just as desperate, your hips moving under him. “Take me, Arthur, please.”

Arthur wishes he could show more restraint, but he’s dreamed about this way too often in too many ways to hold back now. He runs the tip of his cock through your folds, using your wetness to get himself slick as well, and when your fingers dig into his shoulders, Arthur pushes in.

You’re so hot and tight, he hopes he can keep this up and goes as slowly as he can. You still gasp in surprise, and more sighs and moans break out of you when Arthur conquers you inch by inch. Once he’s fully sheeted inside of you, Arthur holds still, enjoying the feeling of being close.

“You okay?” he whispers against your lips, and you take a deep breath before being able to reply.

“God, yes,” you sigh, rolling your hips again.

Arthur dares to move with you. You kiss, again and again, hands roaming over heated skin, while Arthur pushes into you at a steady pace. Your hands wander around Arthur’s neck, and soon you seem to hold on for dear life. With your breathing speeding up, Arthur knows you won’t make it much longer, and the harder he thrusts into you, the more desperate become your moans.

Leaning in to kiss and bite your neck, Arthur finally throws you over the edge. Your thighs shake as you come, your muscles clenching around Arthur’s cock. You cling to him, whispering profanities he never thought you capable of knowing, and it becomes harder and harder for him to hold back.

Still, Arthur tries not to overwhelm you, but you keep moving, spurring him on. “Please, Arthur. I want you, I want all of you.”

With your beautiful, young body moving under him in ecstasy, Arthur can’t hold back his lust. His fingers dig hard into your flesh as he buries himself deep in your hot core, filling you up with his come.

You’re both drenched in sweat and breathing heavily. Arthur wishes he could ask if you’re alright, but he doesn’t have enough air. Instead, you share a few soft kisses. Despite that first wave of satisfaction, Arthur can’t stop touching you. His fingers trace over your smooth skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

Arthur’s been thinking about being with you for so long, he feels as if he’s in a dream. He kisses his way down your body, and when his hands massage your thighs, you open his legs for him. Arthur trails his fingers over your soft lips, making you roll your hips.

Teased like this, Arthur can see how your muscles work, and his come is swelling out of you, trickling down. The sight steers something inside of Arthur. It’s as if he marked you, finally making you his.

He can’t help but touch you, and the urge to taste you as well overcomes him. Arthur leans in, running his tongue over your clit, and you let out a surprised moan. With his hands on your thighs, Arthur keeps teasing you with his tongue.

He doesn’t mind his own taste that’s soon replaced with yours, your moans and soft cries growing more urgent. The way you move under Arthur steers up his own arousal. Caught between your legs like this, he can’t hold in his own moans.

You bury your fingers in Arthur’s hair, lifting your hips and urging him on with pleas for more. He happily indulges you, teasing you with his fingers as well as his mouth until you let out a frustrated groan.

Arthur stops and looks up to you, and before he can ask if you’re alright, you already push him back by the shoulders. The second he’s on his back, you crawl on top of him, rubbing yourself against his hardening cock.

You lean in and kiss Arthur, taking heavy breaths in between. All he can do is hold on to your hips as you lift yourself up to push him inside of you again. Trapped in your tight heat, Arthur lets his head fall back.

He might have marked you today, but at this moment, Arthur knows that you did so long ago. Arthur’s been yours from the start, and that won’t ever change, not as long as you’ll have him.

———

You dreamed about being with Arthur many times, but none of it compares to the real thing. His every touch sets you on fire, waking a lust inside of you that you’ve never known before. Longing to be close, you keep kissing Arthur, your body pressed against his as you move your hips to feel him deep inside of you.

All of it still seems like a dream, and you have the urge to make the most of it, feeling and tasting Arthur, desperate to make as many memories of this moment as you can.

Your eager cries fill the night, mixed in with Arthur’s moans, the both of you too desperate to hold back. You claw and bite, leaving marks on each other’s skin. The thought of the other gang members seeing them turns you on more than you ever thought possible.

Now that Arthur finally agreed to be with you, you want everybody else to know. You kiss along Arthur’s neck and suck the skin between your teeth, biting down enough to make Arthur growl. His fingers dig hard into your hips, and he holds you in place while he thrusts into you.

Arthur’s cock hits you deeply as he slides in and out of you with lewd sounds, and from one second to the other, everything becomes too much. You bury your face against Arthur’s neck as you fall over the edge, waves of pleasure rolling all over your body.

You cling to Arthur, and he holds you tight, his hips bucking as you shake on top of him. He moans against your ear, filling you up with his come as your clenching muscles tighten around him.

For a while, you just stay like this, enjoying the warmth of Arthur’s body against your own. His fingertips trail softly over the skin on your back, and when your eyes threaten to fall shut, Arthur gets you to move.

After helping you into your chemise, Arthur carries you into the tent, and the second he lies down, you cuddle up to him. Arthur kisses your forehead and puts his arms around you as if he never wants to let go again.

You just lie there for a while until Arthur lets out a long sigh. “I fell in love with you, too, you know. Pretty much from the start.”

Warmth spreads in your chest, and you bury your face in the crook of Arthur’s neck. “I love you, too, Arthur.”

“Do me a favor then?” Arthur says, the words turning into a question.

“Anything.”

“Next time, just tell me right away what’s good for us. I’m an idiot most of the time.”

You laugh, but run your hand over Arthur’s chest as if to wash the thought away. “You’re my idiot now, so don’t worry, I’ll tell you.”

“Thank you, darling,” Arthur says, squeezing you slightly.

You close your eyes, feeling safer and more comfortable than ever before in your life. Everything bad in your past just drifts away, making room for happiness and a future you only ever dared to dream about.

“You were right,” you say. “It’s just books. This was so much better.”

Arthur chuckles, and you fall asleep to the sound of it, the first time of many over the years to come.

#arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x reader #rdr2 smut #rdr2 fanfic #my writing #fulfilled request #emily-strange #Anonymous

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queenabstract · 4 years

Note

Do you still do trolls requests?? If so could I get a cute dickory x yodel troll reader where they reunite after the world tour and everyone’s like awwwwe

ABSOLUTELY!

Throughout you childhood, things had been a little rough. Thing was being a yodel troll, you were expected to be as loud as possible without causing a landslide. That was tough because you lived in the mountains. Little you had a voice louder than any other, and it was killing you inside that you couldn't use it. Then one day it started to change. There was one family that was always coming and going. A father and his two sons. He used to have a girl too, but you hadn't seen her in a while. The father was named Mouse Whiskers. Made sense since he was short and his hair had a way of pointing out and curving up a little. His younger son, Hickory, had his hair, but grew much taller and bulkier. Towering over his older father and older brother. The older son was named Dickory. He was short like his father, but had long hair that had a bit of a natural flow to it. You talked to them when they were there, quickly befriending the older one. The three of you would hang out and have all sorts of fun together. One day, you and Hickory were talking while Hickory played with his toy horses and you were trying to fix his wild hair.

"Now that I think about it, I've never heard you yodel that much. Why?" Dickory asked. You let out a sigh.

"Its not because I don't want to. Its that I'm to good at it."

"Excuse me?" Dickory gave you a confused look.

"I'm way to loud. I would have to hold myself back or I'd cause an avalanche." You explained.

"Oh. But that doesn't mean you can't yodel at all." Dickory pointed out.

"I hate holding myself back. Its really difficult and honestly I'd rather not make any kind of music at all if I have to hold myself back." You said. "I feel like I'm holding myself as a prisoner." You gave up on Hickory's hair. Dickory hummed and looked at one of Hickory's horses. He picked it up and held it in front of you.

"You see this horse?" He asked you. You nodded. "Now imagine the entire neck and head gone, and replace that with the top half of a troll." Dickory said.

"Uh, pardon me?" You asked.

"That's a country troll!" Hickory exclaimed.

"SHHHHSHSH!" Dickory shushed Hickory and looked around. "We're not supposed to tell anyone but...there are other kinds of music that exist out there. A whole bunch! There's Pop, Funk, Techno, Reggaeton, Hard Rock, and so many more! Including Country. We haven't just been traveling. We've been visiting our mom in Lonesome Flats. She's a Country Troll. You live with your auntie right?" Dickory asked.

"Uh...yeah. But she doesnt watch me. I once left for a whole week and she had ni clue. I just have a bed there." You said.

"Then come with us on our next trip. We'll take you to Lonesome Flats and you could live their instead! You won't have to worry about being to loud or causing landslides. Though you'd have to sing Country instead of Yodeling and you'd be expected to be a hard worker." Dickory explained.

"Are you kidding!?! Yes! Absolutely!" You exclaimed and hugged him. "Thank you, Dickory. You're the best." You said and kissed him on the cheek. You didn't notice his blush.

The very next day, you hid inside of the wagon as the family made their way to Lonesome Flats.

"(Y/N), come on out. We're here." Dickory said. You tumbled out onto the dirt.

"Woah." You said as you looked at the small town. "This is where your mama lives?" You asked. Dickory nodded.

"Yeah...though I haven't seen her yet...she usually meets us here." You and Dickory wondered off in different directions. You walked towards the center of the town where there seemed to be a party of some sorts. Dickory wasn't kidding. These trolls were half troll and half horse. It was so cool! You saw a little Country troll with red hair and a green tail around your age. She was dancing and seemed to be enjoying herself. You skipped up to her and tapped her on the shoulder. She rurned to you in surprise.

"Hi, I'm (Y/N)." You said.

"Well Howdy, (Y/N)! My name is Delta Dawn. Nice to meet ya!" Delta held out her hand. You shook it. "What brings you out here to Lonesome Flats?" Delta asked.

"Well...I was hoping to move here." You said.

"Move here? Dontcha have a mama and papa?" She asked. You shook your head. "Oh. Well I can talk to my papa. He's the mayor round here. He might just be able to help you out. She said and galloped away. You looked around to fund Dickory and Hickory, but you didn't see them anywhere. You skipped up to a random country troll and asked if they knew where they went.

"Them Yodelers? Ah. Their mama died. So their papa took em and left. Good riddance."

"Dickory is gone?" You asked.

"Yeah. Why? He was a friend of yours or something?" He asked. You nodded and walked away. Their was a feeling in your chest that was hard to describe. It felt like there was a weight and it hurt inside. It didn't physically hurt but...it did? You were confused.

"I fall to pieces." You began singing. "How can I be just your friend? You want me to forget, pretend that we never met!" Your voice became louder. Thankfully, you had walked away far enough from the other trolls so that they couldn't hear you. "And I'll try I'LL TRY! BUT I HAVEN'T YET! NOW YOUR GONE! And I fall to pieces." You sang.

Delta Dawn talked to her papa. You told him everything about how and why you came. He decided to take you in as his own. The three of you bonded and you fit right in as the younger daughter. Delta made sure than you didn't live in her shadow and pushed you to yodel in front of the others and NEVER hold back. You sang and yodeled until your throat was sore. The Country trolls absolutely adored your voice and were impressed by how loud you could be. You missed Dickory and his little brother. You thought about him every night. You were still sad you never got to say goodbye or thank him. It was all because of him you were a yodeling country troll.

You grew into a strong woman. There was never a man or woman who caught your heart like Hickory once did, so you had an egg on your own and had a little baby girl. You ended up naming her Clampers. She'd spend a lot of time with you, her aunt Delta, and your cousin Growly Pete. She was a wild one and would sometimes ate random objects. You still loved her anyways. You were surprised to find her born with four legs instead of two like you, but you had to assume it was bbecause you grew up in Country, so her body adapted to it before she hatched. She spent time with Delta a lot since you'd scout the outskirts of Lonesome Flats for predators and such. You were the one who showed Delta the letter from Barb after a weird looking bat gave it too you. You rounded up more of the Country trolls to prepare for the attack and left Clampers with Delta. Your voice almost stopped Barb.

Almost.

"CLAMPERS! DELTA!" You screamed. You couldn't do anything but watch in horror as Barb turned everyone, including your sister and precious little girl into rock zombies. You were kept tied in chains near the center of the stage. Barb was pointing her guitar towards you.

"Don't worry. You're joining them." Barb said.

"No!" A voice called out and a small figure jumped out in front of you. When they broke out of the rock, you couldnt believe it. There was no way. They turned towards you. Their red eyes staring straight into your soul.

"Dickory?" You whispered. You were in so much shock, you hadn't realized that there was a fight going on onstage until the strings were broken amd drained you of your color. You fell to the ground, feeling weak. The chains slipped off and you felt gourseld being sat up.

"Mama?" Clampers asked, sitting in your lap. You held her in your arms and looked to see Dickory helping you up.

"Dickory?" You asked.

"I'm here, (Y/N)." Dickory said. You pressed your forehead against his and sighed, closing your eyes. Then you heard it, your heartbeats. You looked at the crowd and saw everyone's hearts lighting up and making music. You chuckled. Of course. I mean, you yodeled without a yodeling string, right? Delta Dawn made her way over to you and the four of you started to line up with the other leaders as you all started to sing. Even Hickory left the crowd to join you onstage. You didn't hold back a single bit. You sang and laughed with you childhood friends, just like old times.

"I missed you two so much!" You hugged both of them after the song was over.

"Yeah, we missed ya too." Hickory said.

"Look at you! Youve grown so big!" You giggled and then turned to Dickory. "And you, haven't changed a bit." You smiled at him.

"Really? Not at all?" Dickory smirked.

"Nope. Your still short as hell. And handsome. I guess you did grow more hair though." You laughed.

"Haha! That's what I thought waitwhat?" Dickory asked. Before he knew it, you picked him up and kissed him. He completely melted into it.

"EWW! MAMA!" Clampers exclaimed.

"Aww thats so cute!" You heard Queen Poppy say. You realized that everyone was looking in your direction and "Awwing" at the two of you.

"Well, if you take out all the people staring, I could get used to this." Dickory pulled you back into the kiss.

"Ah jeez get a room." Hickory rolled his eyes and walked away.

I apologize for it being so long, but if I'm doing a request, I freaking COMMIT to it. Though I admit I MIGHT have gone a teeny bit over the top with this? I hope you still enjoy though.

#trolls #trolls world tour #delta dawn #trolls world tour x reader #Hickory #Dickory #Clampers #Dickory x Reader

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pinkpeonyprincessblog · 4 years

Text

Thank you for Loving Me

"Baby, time to get up hon, you've got work in an hour", Shawn whispered in my ear, peppering kisses from my brow down to my chin. His calloused fingers- from his favourite hobby- the guitar- running up and down my arms.

"Mmm, morning," I smiled leaning up to meet his soft kiss.

"Is that coffee I smell?"I asked, sitting up slowly, pulling my (Shawn's) favourite over-sized sweater off the arm chair at the side of the bed and standing up only to be pulled into my favourite spot in the world, Shawn's warm embrace.

"Do you really think I'd be so silly as to wake you without the coffee pot at the ready?" he laughed, kissing my temple again, before taking my hand and leading me down the hallway and into the kitchen.

Both Shawn and I worked for the City of Toronto Fire Department, me as a recently qualified paramedic, and Shawn as a firefighter and paramedic. It had been a tough few months for me, the job was demanding and taxing, but I loved it, and I had Shawn and all my work mates to help guide me.

"Sit," he pointed to the barstool where a cup of coffee in my favourite mug and omelette was waiting.

"Ahhh I love you!" I groaned, flopping down in the chair, shovelling a piece of the fragrant food into my mouth.

"I take it it meets your expectations," he laughed, coming to sit next to me.

"Exceeds!" I mumbled around the next mouthful.

Am hour later and Shawn had dropped me at my station, before headed off across town again to his station.

As I made my way into the station the familiar sounds of saws, engines and various other equipment- once so threatening now seemed to welcome me home.

"Hey El.", my work partner and paramedic in charge Jo called, coming to meet me at the locker room door.

"Morning, how are Eli and Felix today?" I asked referring to her two little boys.

"They're okay. Eli had a meltdown before school this morning at having to get out of bed, but once I reminded him that Mummy can't go to work and save people if he doesn't get up and go to school all was well. I swear if the kid doesn't become a firefighter or a paramedic himself one day I'll walk to the moon!" she laughed.

"Aw, he's so sweet, it's so cute how you're his idol, speaking of don't we have that school group coming today?"

"We were supposed to, but due to budget cuts'" she rolled her eyes "the department is no longer able to fund it, apparently it's too expensive and labour intensive to have people out of action."

I sighed, "How are we supposed to encourage the next generation of they can't see it for themselves. I mean I became a paramedic because my school had a field trip to a firehouse."

"You're preaching to the choir here girl, you're preaching to the choir." she laughed, turning and walking out. I went about putting my stuff away before heading to the kitchen/common room where we all spent our time inbetween calls.

The day turned out to be a slow one and by eleven o'clock I was doing laundry- (only having been called out once) when Mo one of the longest serving fire fighters and overall cool dude appeared by the door.

"You've got a visitor El l, there's someone waiting for you it on the apparatus floor."

"Thanks Mo, " I smiled, putting the clothes I had been folding down and heading out the door.

When I got to the apparatus floor, I was slightly shocked. There was Shawn, leaning casually against a Pilar waiting for me a brown bag in one hand- a bunch of sunflowers (my favourite) in the other.

"Shawn... What are you doing here?"I asked, still stunned.

He beamed running and picking me up.

"I had to come speak to chief Hachette about an arson case so I thought I'd surprise my girl.Do you have time for lunch?" he asked just as Jo walked out, stopping in her tracks. She looked so surprised I thought she was going to faint for a minute.

"And who's this?" she asked with a smile, coming over to stand in front of us where Shawn was still holding me.

"Jo meet Shawn." As soon as I said it I knew it was a mistake. A mischievous grin came over her face and I suddenly felt sick at all the intimate details I'd shared with her about our relationship on long nightshifts-mostly under duress, but still.

"Right so we're going to have lunch before we get another call," I spoke quickly, tugging at Shawn's arm to get him to walk before Jo had an opportunity to embarrass me.

"She seems nice," Shawn commented as we found a quiet spot to sit in the grass behind the firehouse.

"She is." I agreed as he handed me a turkey and Brie sandwich from my favourite deli downtown.

Half an hour later and lunch was done all too soon, duty unfortunately calling for Shawn leaving me alone to face the scrutiny of Jo.

"Girrlll, OMG, he's fiinnnee El. I hope youve locked him down cause I want me some of that." she spoke a million miles a minute running to catch up with me a la I made my way back into the common room and through to the laundry to finish folding the clothes from earlier.

"Well, speaking of... " I dug around in my breast pocket, pulling out the engagement ring Shawn had proposed with over the weekend on a mini getaway to the Hamptons.

The scream that left Jo's mouth was louder than expected and sent the whole house into a frenzy. Mo and several of the other firefighters including Tiny and Bug to come running.

When they realised there was no actual issue they turned around grumbling about how we'd pulled then away from the basketball game theyd been placing bets on.

"So when, how, where all the details," she demanded grabbing my arm and jumping up and down. Just the thought of the romantic evening Shawn and I had spent made me giddy again.

However before I got a chance to response the bell went off overhead signalling an incoming call

"Main to 41... Possible GSW, 56th and Main."

I sighed.

It was probably some gang related drug issue again.there were plenty of lovely people , but that side of town had a reputation.

"41 responding," I spoke into the radio, before flicking the switch to the lights and sirens.

When we got to the scene all was well at first, the cops were already there assuring us it was safe to enter, however just as we were about to leave having treated a minor self inflicted wound a man brandishing a gun leapt from a concealed closet.

"Give me all the drugs you have b*TCH." He yelled before either Jo or I could take in what was happening.

"You know we can't do that sir," Jo spoke calmly. Moving to try to assess the man, who's head was bleeding heavily.

"I said give me the f*cking drugs b*TCH ."

He yelled again, storming towards me. The next few seconds were a blur, I heard a shots, there was immense pain in my abdomen and leg and then I crumpled to the floor, whacking my head in the process.

"El, El. Omg, stay with me." Jo panicked.

"41 to main we have an officer down, urgent assistance required for a GSW, EMS required now!" she shouted down her radio.

"Hurts," I gasped as the initial shock wore off and the pain hit, everything seemed to ache, my leg, my ribs, my head. The room was spinning and I was having trouble breathing no longer able to keep track of the flurry of activity.

Somewhere in the chaos,I'm not sure how long after the incident I heard his voice, Shawn's voice and at first I thought I was dreaming, but I managed to open my eyes and there he was, looking down at with with so much fear.

"It's alright baby, I'm here now, we're going to fix it up, you'll be just fine. Can you tell me where it hurts?" he asked.

I went to move, instinctively seeking his comfort, but he stopped me, and I instantly wanted to cry, more than I already was.

"You have to stay still Princess."

I let out a loud groan as he placed an oxygen mask over my face.

"El? Can you hear me?" I grunted, the effort of actually forming words seeming too hard right then. I could feel hands all over me, and as much as I just wanted to be left alone, I also knew , they were trying to help me.

"It hurts," I cried again.

"I know it does honey, but you're going to be okay. I'm here, and so is Connor and Jo, and we'll look after you, and then when we've got you all comfy we'll take you to get all fixed up, how does that sound?"

"Okay, lets get her onto the bed, and then we can assess her from there," Connor suggested, appearing by my side, with a back board and neck collar that Jo had brought over.

"Okay, we're going to roll you onto the board El just let us do all the work okay?" Shawn said.

I let out a serious of screams as they rolled me, gripping Shawn's gloved hand like my life depended on it.

"We'll get you sorted yeah?" Shawn tried to reassure me as they strapped me onto the bed so I was safe, and then starting to push the gurney out the door and towards the entrance of the ambulance which was no more than ten metres away.

"Shawn ," I whispered, tears falling down my face, mixing with the blood which I could feel was congelling on my face.

When we were in the ambulance Shawn and Jo attached me to the hundreds of leads which I was so used to attaching to others while I lay there helplessly.

"I've started some morphine," Jo patted my arm gently as Shawn pulled a blanket over my body as I drifted off into fairy land.

Ten minutes later and we were pulling into the emergency bay.

The automatic doors opened, where we were met with a hoard of staff, ready to assist, the first person being Brian, Shawn and my mutual friend and colleague.

The look of horror on his face when he saw that it was me on the gurney was unsettling.

"She's a priority one, bed four, resus," he directed Shawn, following behind. " What do we know?" He asked, starting to attach monitors and leads to me all over again.

"GSW on scene, while responding to an incident on the other side of town. Wound to leg and abdo, possible broken ribs and concussion." Shawn reeled off.

I wasn't aware that they'd even assessed me, clearly I'd lost consciousness at some point and I wasn't even aware of it.

I lay there mulling over this lapse in memory, letting the chaos wash over me like a wave.

The last thing I was aware of was Brian shouting orders at the floods of nurses, and Shawn standing helplessly in the corner, red-faced from crying, before everything went black.

"Ah, can you turn the lights off!" I groaned as I came to again, reaching to rip off whatever annoying piece of wiring was sitting over my face "My head hurts," I added as a dull.ache consumed my thoughts as Shawn's worried face came into view, his frame helping to block out the blinding light as he bent over the bed.

"Oh thank God I was so worried," he cried kissing me with so much force I forgot to breathe, making the monitor go crazy for a second. "How are you feeling he asked, stopping me from pulling at the thing on my face which turned out to be oxygen tubing

"What happened?" I asked,. I remembered the main.events but the rest was fuzzy, whether from my injuries or from the drugs I had no doubt been plied with I wasn't sure

"You were shot while on-call, drug exchange gone bad, you scared me so bad baby," he whispered, brushing hair out if my face as Brian made his way into the room clearing his throat to announce himself.

"Hi El, it's good to see you awake, how are you feeling?" He asked coming to check a few things on the monitors before flipping my chart that sat at the end of the bed open.

"So as you know you had two gun shot wounds, one to your left let and one to the abdomen, luckily for you they were both clean shots and we didn't need to do anything other than clean and irrigate the areas and stitch you up. You did however manage to fracture three ribs when you fell as well as sustaining a sizable concussion.

"So what does that mean work wise?" I asked. Shawn must have sensed my nerves, because he was sure to keep a hand intertwined with my, the other tracing soft patterns up and down my arm.

"We'll unfortunately, during the fall you fractured your tibia, which has left you in a cast, and pretty well imibilised, I'm sorry to say you'll be relying on this big guy-" he slapped Shawn in the back, "for the next week at least while everything settles.

You'll be in a cast for at least six weeks and off work from a minimum of two weeks with rehab worked in. Rest up El, give me a yell if ya need anything," he spoke to Shawn as he left the room.

"I'll lose my job," I cried, the thought of not being able to do what I loved terrified me.

"No you won't Brian said you'll be sore for a bit and need to rest, not that you'd lose your job, besides now you'll have a real reason to boss me around, I'll be your slave". He laughed covering .me with a blanket and lifting my bung leg to rest it in a pillow.

Besides when you're well enough there are some people who'd like to see you.

"Get some rest and we'll work it all out when you wake up.

True to his word, he helped me with everything, toileting, showering (which proved to be a challenge with the cast), dressing, getting up and down stairs, making breakfast, lunch and dinner, and forcing me to take pain medication when I was too stubborn to admit I needed it.

By the end of the first week though, I was miseeable,.not used to doing nothing but sitting in my behind.

"You my dear, need to get a coat on we're going out!" he announced, coming over with said coat and helping me to stuff my arms in.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"SSH, it's a secret," he grinned, before carrying me to the car and making sure I was all buckled up.

Half an hour later and we were pulling up to the firehouse, where a few of the guys were sat outside playing cards as we made our way (me hobbling haphazardly on crutches) into the firehouse

"Hero in the house!" Mo called out and they all came running.

"I'm so glad you're okay. You scared me girl." Jo sniffled coming to hug me.

"Ouch still a little sore." I laughed leaning into Shawn for support as she blubbered all over me.

"Well sore is better than the alternative.

If it weren't for this one," she pointed to Shawn "you'd be dead."

"You've got yourself a keeper,"Mo added with a smile.

"Well if Mo approves it must be true." I agreed. "I think I'll keep you." I added, causing everyone to laugh.

"Thank you," I whispered to Shawn when the others were out of ear shot.

"For what?" he asked.

"Just for being you and for loving me," I shrugged, snuggling futher into his embrace, feeling greatful just to be alive, let alone call this wonderful human mine.

#shawn mendes #Shawn #shawnmendes imagine #shawn mendes blurb #Shawnblr #shawn peter raul mendes #raul mendes #peter mendes #mendes triplets #doctor!shawn #werewolf!shawn #pinkpeonyprincessblog masterlist #pinkpeonyprincessblog #thank you for loving me

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didyouputyournameinthegobi · 3 years

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AMD YOUVE GOT A SMILE THAT CAN LIGHT UP THIS WHOLE TOWN

I HAVENT SEEN IT IN A WHILE SINCE SHE BROUGHT YOU DOWN

#infinity #i am in love with thins song #gobis mail

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angrylizardjacket · 6 years

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when i said it i thought it was true [1] {Ben Hardy}

Anon asked: could you do an imagine where ben is the reader’s ex and they are somehow working together on the set of bo rhap and they fall in love all over again ☺️ could you make it angst-y and then end with fluff? i love your writing so much!!

Anon asked: could you do an imagine where the reader is in bo rhap, maybe playing as one of roger’s gfs or something and she kind of falls in love with ben while filming the scenes with him as roger 💖 very fluffy pls :D

A/N: 3124 words. Super AU version of BoRhap being filmed in the fic. There’s gonna be another part, that will fill the prompts better. This might end up being a series. I hope you enjoy. Feedback would be nice.

When your manager rings you, telling you that you’d landed a part in the Queen Biopic Bohemian Rhapsody, you were elated. Freddie Mercury was a bit of a personal hero of yours, and to be a part of his story on the big screen, it was sort of a dream come true.

In your first meeting, you sign a nondisclosure agreement, and you’re given the latest draft of the script to start learning, as well as a character brief. The script calls your character ‘Amanda’, the girlfriend of Roger Taylor who he eventually realises he wants to settle down with. You’d seen pictures of young Roger Taylor, you wouldn’t lie, you were excited for the role. Honestly, even today he was still quite a fox.

The point is, you were excited to have a fun time on set with a pretty blonde, make some new connections, and earn some good money. Some really good money.

The other shoe drops when you’re flicking through Instagram, and one of the stan accounts you follow has posted a leaked screenshot of the proposed cast list, and there’s your name, right beside the name of the last person you wanted to pretend to be in love with. Ben Hardy; pretty blonde extraordinaire, and your ex-boyfriend.

The table read is... awkward.

The two of you are sat next to each other, and barely spoke two words to each other. You feel unprofessional the whole time, but you’d rather be anywhere else in the world, and the delivery of some of your lines falls a little flat. The director casts a concerned look between yourself and Ben as you rattle of what’s meant to be banter like you’re reading the news paper.

“They’ve got no damn chemistry; it’s like watching a celebrity divorce hearing.” When the Director vents to one of the producers in the hall outside after the reading, you manage to catch it where you’re just about to come out of the bathroom.

“They’ll be better on set, I promise, it’s just jitters.” She tries to soothe his nerves, and they’re off soon after, and you’re left with a cold, sinking sensation in your stomach.

“You’re Y/N, aren’t you? How are you finding the set?” The guy who greets you on your first day on the Eastenders set smiles with such casual ease it feels like you’ve known him for a while, instead of having just met him.

“Yeah, that’s me.” You agree with a quick nod, rocking back on your heels as you gaze around the space, trying not to look at him for too long. “It’s a bit overwhelming.” Actually, what’s overwhelming is that he’s talking to you. He’s Ben fucking Hardy, pretty-boy on the soap-opera scene, and he’s talking to you on your first day.

“Yeah, you’ll be right though; if you need any help or anything, just give us a yell, yeah?” And you realise he probably doesn’t know who you’re playing, or how you’re involved in that Season’s arc, but you certainly did.

“I didn’t know you could play drums.” You’re trying to be casual when you say it, but you see Ben tense where he’s sitting on a sofa in the rehearsal room, script and pencil in hand.

“I can now, that’s all that really matters.” He’s giving off such strong ‘please leave me alone’ vibes that it almost hurts, and you have to push through the knot in your stomach and sit down next to him.

“Ben, we need to at least be civil.” You say quietly, and he looks at you, expression a little forlorn.

“Y/N, we are civil, and we’ve done this before. Let’s just keep it professional, okay?” His tone leaves little room for argument, and you nod in agreement with a small smile, and pull out your phone, waiting for the rehearsal director.

“Hey there, baby, I don’t think I’ve seen you around here; I know I’d recognise your face.” You purr, running your hand delicately over the collar of Ben’s shirt, as his eyes widened and he spluttered to form a sentence, just as the script had told him to.

Your character was more a plot device than anything, when Ben’s character is at a low point, his main romance is on a break, and he meets you, a temptress in all black. Your job is to give his character a realisation, he starts as your cocaine dealer when his supplier can’t make the drop, and he falls for you. Depending on the audience reaction, you knew the producers were waiting to see if they kill you off or have you recover from your addiction. The point is, your fate’s uncertain at the end of the Season, and Ben’s character realises he has to get out of the drug trade.

“I’ve got something for you, from Oskar. Can we go somewhere more private?” When he speaks, it’s with surprising confidence, and he steps up from the bar stool and into your space, smiling as your face lights up. The director calls cut after a moment, and you step back, smile sliding to something genuine as an assistant comes in and straightens your loose, black silk shirt, and they reset the shot for a new take.

“Ben, could you try less flustered? You’re here to deliver drugs, you’re not a schoolboy.” The director’s voice was kind as she came up to the two of you, and Ben agreed easily before she turned to you. “Great job, Y/N, don’t be afraid to be more even more forward, if you feel it.” As soon as you nod in understanding, she absconds, and you half laugh.

“If I was any more forward I’d be in your lap.” You snickered, voice quiet as you dipped your head to hide how you were faintly flustered. Ben was quiet, just watching you for a moment, but before you noticed, the director called for everyone to standby.

“I’m after Maggie, do you know where I could find her?” Ben starts as soon as the cameras start rolling, brow furrowed as he leans across the bar to speak to the bartender, and that’s your cue to enter the scene.

“Hey there, baby, I don’t think I’ve seen you around here; I know I’d recognise your face.” And when you say it this time, he smirks back at you, a little cocky, and you can feel the way it makes your heart flutter and you know it’s not as fake as it should be.

Before filming even starts, the producers have essentially forced you and Ben into bonding sessions which, if this were several years ago, would have just been dates. Now they’re awkward and tense, and you tend to bring heavily highlighted scripts.

“I saw you in that Wes Anderson movie last year. It was a really good performance, one of your best.” He offers over coffee. The idea that he’d kept up with enough of your work to label one ‘your best’ has you a little shocked, and something in your heart warms as you thank him softly.

It’s gotten easier to hang around with him, and it’s even easier to pretend to be in love with him in rehearsals. It’s like riding a bike, how easy it is to let yourself smile and lean into him, to let the banter flow easily between the two of you, fond jabs that edge on insulting coming as easily as breathing.

Joe mentions that he thought the two of you worked together before, and when you reply that you’d dated for almost a year, he goes very quiet, eyes going wide. After a beat, he admits it explains a lot.

“X-Men did you real dirty.” You’re half paying attention to an interview with Roger Taylor that the two of you had been instructed to watch together. You’re both in his trailer, sitting on opposite ends of the sofa as you watch in almost complete silence.

“What?” He asks, after a beat, your words having taken a moment to process.

“Killing you off like that; they could have gotten so much mileage out of your character.” The way you say it is far too well thought out to be an idle thought. Ben smirked.

“You just liked the leather pants.” He muttered, but you’re silence is answer enough. You know he sees your embarrassed smile, but you can’t bring yourself to deny it.

“Hey, do you wanna grab a drink after and go through notes and blocking and stuff?” You’re shooting your third episode, and you’re far more comfortable on set by now. Agreeing easily, you let Ben drive the two of you to what he claims is the best pub in town, and you sit in one of the more secluded booths to talk.

It turns out he’s just as much a fan of you as you are of him; you’re known more for your bit-parts in long-running series, it seems like the only show you hadn’t been a part of so far had been Eastenders, it was only a matter of time. It’s an innocent night, true to his word, all you do is talk, and discuss the script. There is one part of the upcoming script that has you a bit nervous.

“Listen, honestly just go for it; it’s not meant to be sweet or anything, I’m literally taking coke from you.” You tell him, fidgeting, and he’s hums thoughtfully.

“You sure? We can talk to the director, I’m sure-” He offers, but you laugh to hide your nervousness.

“Nah, let’s knock it out of the park, the script says go for it so just go for it.” You assured him, heart rate already quickening at the mere thought of it.

The next day, before the scene, the director comes over to talk you through it, making sure that if anything becomes uncomfortable, that you can talk to her. Both you and Ben assure her that it’s fine.

“You’re far too cute for this line of work.” You say as you hold a baggie of “cocaine” up to the light, smile playing on your lips.

“Cute? Ouch, you really know how to wound a man, you know.” He says, leaning back against the sofa in the hallway of the grubby hotel your character was staying in. He’s watching you with interest, small smile playing on his lips.

“Cute’s not a bad thing, baby, but you look like you should be making coffees or playing football in the sun, not here, not with me.” And you tap out a little of the powder onto your hand, pretending to snort it before you turn to him, his expression dark and hungry, and he kisses you, aggressive, almost desperate, and you lean into it, almost forget you’re playing a role with his hand on the back of your neck. When he lets go, when he pulls away, your eyes are still closed and you chase his lips for a moment. Eyes flickering open, you see him smirking down at you where he’s standing, and you both know it wasn’t entirely acting.

“You don’t know anything about me.” He growls, and you know you have to smile like you’re into it, like it’s a challenge, but instead, you duck your gaze, giving a small laugh and wiping at the nostril you’d just “snorted cocaine” through, before looking up at him through your eyelashes.

They call cut, and the director announces, almost a little awed, that she’s pretty sure they got the the take, actually says she’s not sure if she could getting a better take if they tried again. Ben seems far too pleased with himself.

“They want us to tell the public we’re together.” You’re resting your head on Ben’s chest laying at the back of the tour-bus set, and his hand is resting on your waist, which is bare for the crop top and booty shorts they’ve put you in.

“Yeah, I heard.” He replies, voice equally quiet. “I think we’ve got a meeting about it tomorrow morning.” Gwil and Rami are actually playing scrabble at the front of the bus, and Joe is talking to Singer, the director.

“It’s a bad idea.” You’re so frank that you feel Ben freeze, and you heave a sigh. “It’s good for the movie, but Ben...” You trail off, and you feel it when he forces himself to relax. “It wouldn’t be real, it would just be weird.”

“Y/N, we’re actors.” He says very pointedly, and when you turn, resting your chin on his chest, he looks tired, a little exasperated. “It’s just a business deal.” He assured, and you let out a low, thoughtful grumble.

“We’ll discuss it tomorrow.” You allow, and he nods once, shifting to a more comfortable position, and you go back to resting your head on his chest, eyes fluttering closed as Singer called for the shot to be reset and a bunch of people came and straightened your clothes, and touched up your makeup, all without you having to move much.

You agree to the terms set forth in the meeting easily, the story being that your relationship rekindled on set, and that you were now madly in love, mirroring the relationship you were portraying on screen.

“Wait, does that mean-?” Ben leans forward in his chair, with his heart in his throat as he followed their logic, thinking through the plot of the movie. “Like engaged?” He asked.

“Seems a bit fast.” You agreed, voice level enough that someone might mistake you for calm rather than internally freaking out, and your managers shared a look.

“There will be a public proposal during or after the world premiere, that’s up to you both, and after the movie is out on DVD, you can go your separate ways.” They assured, but your mouth fell open.

“You know he left me for X-Men, right?” You splutter, and Ben’s eyes widen as he turns to you with a scoff.

“You’re the one who said the distance was too much for us while I was in Cairo.” He snapped, and you threw your hands in the air.

“I was offering to come and stay with you instead, but you said you were too busy!” That was enough to shut him up, his mouth snapping closed as he turned away sharply, huffing out a resigned sigh.

“We have a few brands and restaurants who are interested in sponsoring, and the producers are willing to increase both your salaries if you go through with it for the full duration.” Your manager informed you both carefully, and you and Ben shared a resigned look.

“Fake intend to marry me for like three months?” He asked, voice low and bitter, and after heaving a long sigh, you look to your managers,

“Fine.”

“I think I love you.” Ben’s character shows up at your character’s door, and you open it in a silk robe.

“Hello to you too.” You laughed, but he’s so serious, so sincere, and when he doesn’t flinch, doesn’t offer anything else, you step up to him, pressing your lips to his, and he wraps his arms around you, hands sliding against the silk over your hips, and you pull back.

“You’re too sweet for me, baby,” voice so low it’s barely a whisper, he’s the one who chases your lips this time, but your catch his chin, and his eyes open.

“You’re high.” He says softly, voice raw and a little desperate.

“And you’re my dealer.” You push him back gently, going to close the door and his expression turns angry.

“That doesn’t mean anything; I love you, Maggie.” His words hang heavily in the air, but before you can respond, they call for cut. You’re told to play it more like it hurts to try and turn him down, and you agree, smiling and nodding all the while. Everyone sets up for another take and you close the door.

When you kiss him this time, his hands are holding your face, and you’ve got your arms around his neck, and it’s like the world falls away from around you. It’s not acting now, hasn’t been for weeks, almost months now, not since he’d asked you out officially. Every time you kiss him you’re desperate to drown in his embrace, and he kisses you like it’s just the two of you, no cameras, no scripts.

“You’re-” and he cuts you off with another quick kiss, which has you laughing a little sadly, “Peter you’re too sweet for me.” He rests his forehead against yours, heaving a sigh.

“I know you’re high.” He says gently, and you don’t push him away this time, just lean back, your finger lifting his chin.

“And you’re my dealer.” You tell him, expression falling.

“That doesn’t mean anything, that doesn’t matter; I love you.” And you know that in that moment, the words mean so much more than the script, than these characters, than the show; he loves you. Ben loves you.

You avoid him, outside of filming, until you actually get a call from your manager telling you you’re contractually obligated to be seen in public together at least once a week. Even while filming you’re short with him, and he’s quick to get away from you the moment he doesn’t need to be around you, which was getting to be pretty bad, seeing as how you had been blocking a sex scene.

After the call, you and Ben get a drink. It’s awkward at first, though that’s unsurprising. After a long sip of his beer, he pats his thighs where he’s sitting in the armchair across from you. You make a face at him, shaking your head.

“It’ll look less suspicious than if we’re shouting at each other across the table.” He hissed, and you groaned, obliging and crossing to sit yourself in his lap. He’s warm and secure, and he wraps his arm around you like it’s second nature. “Let’s not make this weird.” He said gently, and you nod.

“As for tomorrow’s shoot,” you said softly, leaning in to make sure no-one else heard, and he nodded, humming softly, “we’re professionals, and,” after a beat you cleared your throat pointedly, “it’s not like we haven’t done it before.”

“Not in front of a camera crew we haven’t.” Ben says with a smirk, and you snicker in agreement. “It’s gonna go fine; this is all gonna go fine, I promise.” And when you raise your eyebrows at him in surprised question, he just laughs softly, and brings you in for a chaste kiss. “It’s only until the DVD’s released.” He assures you, and you let your expression fall, already weary.

“Ben, that’s over a year away.”

#ben hardy #ben hardy imagine #ben hardy x reader #bohemian rhapsody #borhap #bo rhap #queen #queen imagines #eastenders #eastenders imagines #the angry lizard writes

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dreamboydongmyeong · 6 years

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AND YOUVE GOT A SMILE THAT CAN LIGHT UP THIS WHOLE TOWN—

#THE VLIVE MY WHOLE HEART #MY BODY ISNT BIG ENOUGH TO HOLD ALL MY LOVE FOR YUNHO MAN #MY HEART IS SO FULL #HES SO #HIS SMILE IS SO BRIGHT HIS WHOLE PERSONALITY IS SO BRIGHT #AND HES SO BUBBLY EVEN THO IT WAS LIKE WHAT 1 AM #AND HE JUST SEEMED SO GENUINELY HAPPY TO BE TALKING TO EVERYONE #I LOVE HIM #I LOVE HIM SO MUCH #yunho #ateez

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predoom · 3 months

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AAAAAAAAaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

#pw #pete wentz in black crew neck #AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA #and youve got a smile that can light up this whole town

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bakugous-abs · 6 years

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Could you do a scenario where bakugou and the reader have a huge crush on eachother and they're both oblivious? Kirishima gives bakugou a dare to kiss the next person who walks through the door and at first he's like "what no, fuck off" then when the reader walks in, he's like "fine, only because you dared me to" thank you!!!!💘💖💘💟

Aaaaaaaa !! This was a cute ask and I loved it so much. I hope you like it! There was no gender that was specifically assigned so I made it gender neutral, I hope you don’t mind. It also got p long-Bomb

They sighed, picking attheir lunch food with the chopsticks in their hand. Their other hand rested ontheir cheek, pointer finger tapping on their cheek bone. They sighed again,this time, a breathier one, moving the soba around the plate and to the veryedge before picking it up and letting it fall onto the plate again

“You’re going to fillthe air with more carbon dioxide than oxygen at this rate, s/o” Kirishima said,picking up some of his meal and putting it into his mouth, his sharp and sharklike teeth easily tearing the hunk of meat to shreds

“Oh shut it.” Theysmiled, putting down their chopsticks

“Are you still thinkingof him? Now? While you’re eating?” Sero looked at them with a concerned face,seeing their soba not touched

“Ah, im sorry. I just,can’t stop?” They picked up their chopsticks again and grabbed some soba withthem, filtering it into their mouth and sucking them up, chewing on the noodlesto keep their mouth occupied

“No its just, this isthe third day in a row I haven’t seen you eat a whole meal because youve beenmore and more focused on Bakugou”

They chewed their food, their eyebrows crinkling as a confused and mufflednoise came from their throat. Had they really not been eating because they werethinking about him so much? Oops… that would explain the increased after schoolappetite and why they were so hungry at the end of the day. They swallowedtheir food, and voiced a part of their thoughts

“Have I really not beeneating?”

“Yeah. You should reallyeat bro, or i’m gonna have to start feeding you.” Kaminari butted in, liftinghis arm across the table with a piece of Yakitori that he picked today, sinceLunch Rush was lacking his usual favorite hamburgers today

They backed away, butKaminari kept moving forward. His efforts to make them eat some of his chosenmeal were futile, as a flaming ash haired blond came in unusually late,slamming his hand on the table, smoking and about to explode. His mouth wassculpted into his usual scowl and frown, and beautiful crimson eyes locked ontoKaminari

“They can eat their owndamn food, Pikachu! Now get your arm off the table before I blow it off!”Bakugou, s/o’s long time crush since the sports festival, yelled at Kaminari

He backed off, butinstead of a scared look, he was smirking at Sero and Kirishima, like he knewsomething s/o and Bakugou didn’t

S/o cocked their head atthem, but got distracted when Bakugou forcefully moved them over into the boothseat, but it wasn’t quite aggressive, more like a guiding touch to teach themto move over when he comes around. He placed his rather large hand on theirshoulder, not smoking anymore as he placed his other hand on their knee, movingthem against the wall

They made a small noiseof surprise when their entire body moved with ease, and their Soba was placedin front of them as Bakugous Tantanmen was put in their place

They could still feelBakugou’s hands lingering on their skin, even if they weren’t near their bodyanymore. It’s like his touch was being scanned and printed onto their skin,leaving a mark that would soon fade away

Their face became alittle warm. Why didn’t he just shove them to the side? He would have done thatwith anyone else? Maybe he’s tired. Yeah, he’s just tired, he probably doesn’thave the energy to be rude like that

They shook their headand picked up their chopsticks once more and put some more soba on them,dipping them into the sauce. They sunk into the dark sauce, soaking up itscontents before they were picked back up, dripping wet as they put them intotheir mouth, slurping them up

“GUYSSSS!!!” A highpitched voice came running across the lunch room. The owner of the voice landedin front of the booth, revealing none other than Mina, a happy smile all acrossher face as her caramel pupils lit up with a new light contrasting to her jetblack sclera

Her voice scared themfrom the peace of their noodles, and for the 4th time this lunch period, theyset down their lunch and just opted to not eat anymore as they slid the tray tothe middle of the table, crossing their arms and leaning into the seat with ascowl resembling Bakugou’s on their face

“Hey, Ashido! What’sup?” Kaminari greated her, pulling a Yakitori ball off his skewer and chewingit as Kirishima greeting her as well

“Guess what?!” Sheasked, but before anyone could respond, she blurted it out anyway. “Aizawaisn’t assigning homework over the weekend so we’re free to do whatever wewant!” She jumped into the seat that sat Bakugou and S/o, pushing Bakugou intothem

His instincts kicked inand he reached over S/o with his right arm, grabbing onto the booth wall thatseparated them from the next booth over as well as grabbing the table with hisleft hand, preventing his body from ramming into theirs

By this time, S/o hadtried to take cover from Bakugou into them, holding their forearm in front ofthem as if to protect them from Bakugou falling into them. And when they feltnothing, they looked up, seeing themself trapped between the seat and Bakugou

Bakugou’s eyes weresqueezed shut, like he was anticipating himself to have crashed into them. Butwhen he opened his eyes, he was no more than a few inches away from S/o’s face.He could see colorful specks of similar color to their eyes in them, creating amystical glow. He could see their lashes, and he could feel their body heat

Unfortunately, themoment lasted no more than a few seconds before Bakugou’s face got a warm hueto it, and he turned himself around, giving Mina an earful as he tried towrestle his hand to her face, palms smoking as he was prepared to fire a shotat her

Bakugou’s head wasfilled with the image of their face. How perfect it looked underneath him. Howthey curiously stared up at him, as if confused by the way he put his armsaround them, shielding them from himself crashing into them with a hurtfulforce. Why did he do that? And why didn’t they look scared of him as everyoneelse would? Why didn’t they fear him?

They must be underestimating him, that’s what it is! They were underestimatinghim! His crush of all people was underestimating him! Damn…

“Aaa!! Bakugou Im sorry!I’ll move!” Ashido screeched as Bakugou was still seething with anger, handssmoking as she escaped his grasp, going to the other side of the booth andweaving her way in between Kaminari and Kirishima

“You better be sorry! Ialmost just crushed S/o into a flapjack!” He yelled, pointing an accusingfinger at her while she hid between the two

“And why should you careabout whether you crushed them or not, hm?” Kaminari asked, holding a straightface as he continued to eat his meal. Everyone looked to Bakugou, staring athim for an answer

Bakugou opened his mouthto yell at him, but he couldn’t find the words to say, as the reason why wasbecause he liked them, but they were right fucking there!!!!! He couldn’t justsay it!!!! Even for as blunt and rude of a guy he is, this was something hecouldn’t say!!!!

S/o seemed to notice theuncomfortable and frustrated energy coming off of him as he couldn’t find ananswer, so as to not make their hopes run higher than they already were, theyturned to Ashido, asking her a clarification question

“Really? No homework?Why?”

It seemed to cause a largeenough distraction from Bakugou as the table turned their attention to the pinkgirl, awaiting an answer

Her face lit up like astar as she sat back up, clapping her hands. “I don’t know!! That’s just thething though. Since there’s no homework tonight, what do you guys think about asleepover?!” Her hands clapped together excitedly, looking towards everyone“Ah, sorry, I can’t. My mother is coming down with a cold and I have to bethere all weekend to take care of her so my dad can catch up on workdays thathe missed.” Sero admitted sadly

“Aw, it’s ok Sero. Yourmother’s health is important, we understand.” S/o leaned forward, her bodyslightly pressing against Bakugous as they across the table and took Seros handin their, giving it a squeezeHis cheeks blushed barely noticeable, but he smiled and nodded. If Bakugou hadto be honest, he had to stop himself from relaxing his face to stare at s/o,seeing them able to calm someone down and brighten their mood in nearly aninstant was something he liked in their character, something that he couldn’tdo, but would be great for their hero work“That’s too bad Sero. I’ll come though Mina, I got you” Kaminari ate the lastof his Yakitori, sliding the empty dish to the middle

“And i’d love to cometoo Mina, I don’t have anything to do and my parents are gonna be out of townfor a few days in a business trip, so the house is gonna be a little lonelywhile they’re gone”

“Yay!! What about youKirishima? Bakugou?”

“Sure, why not? Soundsfun” Kirishima put the last of his meat in his mouth, sliding his dish to themiddle of the table where s/o’s and Kaminaris sat, empty

“Like hell i’ll come.”Bakugou spat out, eating his Tantanmen in large mouthfuls

“Aw. Come on Bakugou!It’s going to be fun at Mina’s house! I’m sure of it!” they pinched his sleevebetween the side of the pointer finger and clamping it with their thumb,tugging it

“Yeah dude! It’s Minashouse for All Mights sake, you gotta know it’s fun!” Kirishima came in as well,leaning across the table with a little smile on his face seeing s/o’s realizinglook of what they just did, and seeing Bakugou not so scowly anymore

“Pleaaaase Bakugou?”Mina clapped her hands together and laced her fingers, holding them in front ofher as if to beg him

He growled, turning awayfrom S/o as he begrudgingly agreed to go

Everyone cheered as thebell to signal lunch time was over, and everyone grabbed their food and placedit in their respectable waste bins before putting the reusable trays into adrop bin, making their way to their next class

“Where are they?!” Minacomplained for the sixth time in fifteen minutes, not seeing S/o walk insidethe door yet. Bakugou and Kirishima had arrived for the sleepover early, andwere now sitting on the couch in more comfortable attire“Maybe they’re just running late? Did you try texting them?” Kirishima reachedfor his phone, ready to text them“I already did shitty hair.” Bakugou barked across the room, shutting off hisphone and putting it into his pocket. “S/o’s shitty fucking dog sitter was sickso they had to hurry and bring it to their aunts. They’ll be here in ten minutes”

“Ok… what aboutKaminari?”

“You really expect me tokeep tabs on the fucking Pikachu all damn day?”

“But you keep tabs onS/o?”

“Shut the hell up shittyhair!” His face flashed into a red hue

Suddenly, Kirishima’sphone got a buzz, the screen lighting up with a message from none other thanKaminari

“Kaminari will be alittle late, he said he’ll also be here in ten minutes”

“Yay!!! They didn’t bailon us!” Mina’s limbs seemed to just shoot up in the air as she fell back intothe armchair, happy

“No shit, raccoon eyes”

The next few minuteswere spent in solemn silence, none of them realizing just how unalive the groupis without Kaminari or S/o here to lighten things up and cause a riot. TillKirishima suggested they play a game while they wait

“Oooo, what kinda game?”Mina asked, propping herself up in the chair right, sliding down it and towardsthe coffee table in the middle of the room

“I don’t know, truth ordare? Just something simple before they both arrive”

“Oooo, I haven’t playedthat game in a while! Come on Bakugou, get down here and play!” Mina urgedBakugou to the floor as Kirishima slid off his chosen couch, seating himselfnext to the table

“No way in hell am Igoing to play a little kids game-” He began, but Kirishima cut him off. “Great!I’ll start off. Bakugou. I dare you to kiss whoever walks in through that doornext.” Kirishima smiled a toothy smile, showing every single shark and sharklike tooth that Bakugou wanted to knock right the hell out of his head

“Excuse me?! Who thehell do you think you are?! No way in hell am I going to do tha-”His voice fellshort again as the door to the living room swung open, revealing S/o in a warmsweater and sweatpants, fit for the cool weather of the summer nights. It wasgreatly oversized, probably coming from their fathers closet rather than theirown, making them look smaller

“Sorry guys! Dog sittergot sick out of nowhere!” They kicked their shoes off at the door, closing itwith a click of the doorknob

Bakugou was shockedstill, Mina and Kirishima looking from S/o to Bakugou as they sat next to him.His mouth was stupidly agape as he looked at them. It wasn’t till he heardstifled giggling that he was released from his trance, eyes flickering toKirishima for a brief moment before he spoke

“Fine, but only becauseyou dared me to.” He turned to S/o, seeing them confused. He imagined himselfaggressively grabbing their face and turning their head towards himself, buthis actions were much more calming and less violent than his imagination

His hand reached out ashis scowl released from his face, becoming more and more worryful with everysecond that passed. They barely had time to react before his lips were placedon theirs

Mina and Kirishimawhistled at the both of them, watching as S/o’s eyes fluttered closed and theykissed back

Kaminari opened thedoor, hearing the whistling too as he saw the both of the them kissing, andjoined in too, taking out his phone and recording the scene

“It’s about time theyfound out! I was about to opt for plan B and just lock them in a closet!”

“There was a plan B?!”

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mrsimoshen · 6 years

Text

I’m Your Private Dancer

Title: I’m Your Private Dancer

Link: I'm Your Private Dancer on AO3

Square filled: Human Cas

Ship: Castiel/Michael

Rating: Mature

Tags: Human AU, human!Cas, human!michael, Prostitution/male escort Cas, Client Michael, Lingerie, Anal Plug, implied cross-dressing, Anal Sex

Summary: Male escort Castiel meets a client.

Word count: 2738

created for @spnkinkbingo

tagging: @lucibae-is-dancing-in-hell, @silvaxus, @blakechaos08, @princerusso, @masterpieceofturkeycleverness @ajcza, @buggre-alle-thisss-ineffability, @brieflymaximumprincess, @captain-winchester-27

Fic below the cut:

All the men come in these places And the men are all the same You don't look at their faces And you don't ask their names You don't think of them as human You don't think of them at all You keep your mind on the money Keeping your eyes on the wall

Castiel Novak snorts as Tina’s voice croons on. He’s always thought the dancer in that song was a metaphor for something else, but it’s a bit of an irony that this song would come up on the radio just as he’s getting ready for an appointment.

Unlike the narrator of the song, however, Castiel doesn’t keep his clients at arm’s length. He knows the name of each, knows their faces, their voices, just as he knows the preferences of every man he regularly meets. Of course, it’s about the money – Castiel would be lying if he claimed otherwise, and he’s many things, but not a liar – but if he didn’t enjoy what he does, he would have chosen a different career path a long time ago.

Today, he’s wearing silky thigh-highs and a garter belt along with a pair of low-cut panties and a slinky camisole, all in darkest black with green lace accents. His client likes it when he can easily slide into him, so Cas took care in opening himself up earlier, and now he can feel the familiar weight of the glass plug in his hole. He’s half-hard from all that, and will probably remain so all throughout the evening, but his client enjoys that, too.

Cas hums along to the refrain as he carefully applies just a bit of make-up. It’s very subtle, almost unnoticeable to anyone who doesn’t know the trick, but it makes his eyes appear larger, their blue more intense. It’s not really necessary for the client he’s meeting, but it’s a habit, and he likes the effect.

Make-up done, Castiel gets up – shivering a bit as the weight of the plug inside him makes itself known again and silk brushes against his skin – and walks to his cupboard to select this evening’s wardrobe.

He has a wide range of choice, there – the jeans and shirts he prefers for when he doesn’t work, tailored suits and leather pants and jackets, fine loafers and heavy biker boots, even a few dresses for one particular client he’s since stopped seeing. Throwing the dresses out seemed wasteful, however, so Castiel carefully stored them in their bags and let them live in his cupboard.

Today, he picks out a suit he knows is a favorite of his client. “It brings out your eyes,” he’s always told, and since it’s surprisingly comfortable (which really should be expected, it was made-to-measure and cost a pretty penny, it should be comfortable), Castiel enjoys wearing it, too.

Suit put on and shoes set to the side, Cas stretches out on his couch and lets himself day-dream about how the evening might progress.

His clients all treat him well, mutual respect the most important aspect of the whole deal – if Cas feels disrespected as a human being once because of the service he provides, people find themselves permanently removed from his client list fast. And Castiel also has the connections to ruin a person’s life in interesting ways.

The man he’s meeting today has a taste for European food, the authentic version and not the Americanized deal, but it’s anyone’s guess what nation’s cuisine he’ll be treated to tonight. What they’ll do after that… well, Castiel is horny, so he hopes he’ll be taken to his client’s home after and get fucked a few times, but it’s equally likely his lover for the night will take him to some art show or concert or even the movies after dinner. It’s all happened before. (Castiel’s favorite memory is the time this particular man fucked him, slow and intimate, in a VIP box at the opera where, in theory, anyone who looked into the shadows of their box could have seen them. He spent almost the whole opera on his lover’s cock, and that night was spectacular, once they were in the privacy of his client’s home.)

But he knows the man’s tastes in that area, too, and there’s no opera shown tonight that might catch his fancy. He’s not quite as up-to-date on the movies, and there’s always an art gallery somewhere who’s having a show.

Cas smiles as his phone gives a quiet chirp to alert him to an incoming text message. None of his clients know his actual address, they just know the address of the private, guarded parking lot where he habitually leaves his car. He needs ten minutes from his apartment to that parking lot, and he’s told his clients to inform him when they’ve arrived. Those ten minutes waiting sometimes yield... interesting results.

I’m here, darling.

Castiel slips his shoes on and grabs his keys, phone, wallet, and coat. It’s cold outside, it’s only February, so he adds his favorite scarf to the ensemble and leaves his apartment.

His client’s car is idling in its spot when Castiel opens the door and slides into the passenger seat, and he’s very glad about the warmth enveloping him.

“Hello, Michael.”

“Hello, Castiel,” his client returns with a warm smile and leans over the stick shift and hand brake to greet him with a soft brush of lips on lips. Castiel smiles and angles his head into the soft kiss. Michael is one of the affectionate clients, and Castiel likes the gentle touches an evening with Michael always includes. It feels a little as if they’re truly a couple out on a date night.

Michael waits until Castiel has put on his seat belt before pulling out into the traffic. He’s one of those drivers in whose car Castiel thinks he could actually fall asleep if the distance was long enough. He’s not usually one for sleeping in anyone’s car, an accident that cost him a childhood friend having left a deep impression, but Michael is calm and controlled in everything he does (unless he’s fucking Castiel in the privacy of his own bed. Then, there’s only wild passion in him.) and he always weaves through traffic so smoothly Castiel never felt anything but safe in his car.

“Where are we going?”

“Wait and see, darling,” Michael chuckles and makes a turn. “I do hope you enjoy tapas.”

Cas does, especially if they’re served in a small restaurant that looks as if it was imported from Spain, beams, stones and furniture. There are large pieces of jamón serrano hanging from the ceiling, the Spanish music in the background is just low enough to not interrupt a conversation but lend a certain ambience to the whole restaurant, and the food is perfect. Castiel enjoys every bite he’s served, enjoys the sour wine that he’d usually never pick (he has a sweet tooth when it comes to wine) but that fits perfectly with the dishes they’re served.

Michael, who sticks to sparkling water, takes a single sip on Castiel’s insistence and agrees with him with a smile, licking his lips. “It does compliment the food very well,” he hums. Castiel shivers a little at the tone of voice.

Michael surprises him by driving to his own apartment after dinner. When he notices Cas’ questioning look, he grins.

“I thought we could watch a movie at my place,” he murmurs, using an upcoming red light to stroke a hand up Castiel’s leg slowly. “I can’t wait to see what you’ve got beneath that suit for me today, darling.”

Castiel shivers a little and lets his legs fall a little wider with a smile.

“Would you like to guess?” he invites, and Michael laughs and pulls his hand back as the light changes to green.

“Let me fantasize a moment longer.”

Michael’s apartment is in one of the more expensive parts of town, and Castiel has enough information about his lover of the night to know that Michael works for a high-end law firm and comes from a rich family background. Castiel himself is rather expensive, and he knows from experience Michael has a taste for the finer things in life. Which is probably a compliment in itself.

“Get comfortable,” Michael invites him with a smile, taking Castiel’s coat to hang it up neatly. “Would you like a drink, or coffee?”

“Coffee, please,” Castiel requests with a smile. He wanders further into the apartment as Michael goes to convince his high-end coffee machine to produce the dark liquid and decides to be just a bit of a tease. He leaves his shoes neatly by the living room doorway, then drops his tie on the way to the couch. By the time he’s stretched out on the ridiculously comfortable piece of furniture, his shirt is unbuttoned just enough so that a teasing hint of green lace is visible against his skin.

Michael doesn’t notice at first, concentrating on the coffee cups in his hands, but when he sits down and hands Castiel his coffee, his eyes widen.

“Oh, you little tease,” he breathes with a grin. Castiel laughs and sips his coffee.

“Now, I would be a tease if I didn’t plan to deliver,” he corrects calmly. “I very much intend to deliver, dear Michael.”

“I very much appreciate that,” Michael sinks down onto the couch himself, close enough to Castiel he can feel the other man’s body warmth. “Any preference on the movie?”

Castiel glances over Michael’s pre-selection and decides on one he’s already seen but could stand to watch a second time. He’s guessing they won’t see the end of the movie, not if he starts seducing Michael as soon as they have emptied their coffee mugs. Michael always lets Castiel make the first move, always lets Castiel decide how far they go, and Castiel appreciates it. (Once, he’d told Michael to ravish him, make him forget everything around them. He’s definitely going to do that again someday, because that night ranks top amongst those he’ll never forget.)

For now, he’s content to lean against Michael’s side and sip his coffee as they watch the beginning of the movie. It’s really good coffee, and Michael knows by now how Castiel prefers his, and so it’s not to be rushed but savored.

Half an hour into the movie, Castiel finally sets his empty mug down on the coffee table next to Michael’s and stretches before turning to Michael. He softly brushes his mouth over Michael’s, flicks his tongue out just a little bit, and Michael sighs and cups his face, pulls him into a deeper kiss.

They take their time, kisses turning deeper and hungrier slowly. Castiel ends up straddling Michael’s legs, almost in his lap as they kiss. Michael groans when Castiel leans back to further unbutton his shirt, revealing more of the black silk and green lace beneath.

“Touch me,” he invites in a rough whisper, and Michael’s hands almost fly to his sides, stroke up over black silk reverently.

“Get rid of the shirt,” Michael murmurs, his eyes on the way his hands look on the silk. Castiel laughs and complies, and then gasps when gentle fingers rub and tease at one of his nipples through the material. Michael alternates between stroking soft silk and rougher lace over the sensitive nub until Castiel is biting his lower lip and breathing noticeably faster.

“I want to see you,” Michael murmurs, finally showing mercy on the nipple he was playing with. Permission to touch given, he’s slipping back into the dominant role he usually prefers when they meet. Castiel smiles and slides off his lap, taking a few steps back to let Michael see all of him. He takes his time undoing his belt, the button on his pants and the zipper, and when he finally lets the garment fall, Michael moans and presses a hand against his own crotch.

“Like what you see?” Castiel purrs, slowly walking back towards his lover for the night. “I chose the green just for you.”

“Oh, I very much like what I see,” Michael breathes, looking Castiel up and down slowly. “Damn, you’re pretty, darling.”

“Why, thank you, Michael,” Castiel purrs, slowly climbing back up onto the couch and into Michael’s lap. Michael shivers and strokes up his thighs. He makes a low sound when he notices Castiel wears the panties over the garter belt – meaning he can take them off and leave belt and stockings in place.

“Very nice,” he murmurs, stroking up underneath the camisole. “You’re spoiling me, Castiel.”

Castiel laughs quietly and raises his arms to let Michael strip the camisole from him. He moans as Michael leans forward to lick and suck at the nipple he’d neglected before, buries his hands in Michael’s dark hair. “Oh…”

“Always so sensitive for me,” Michael hums and blows cool air over wet skin. Castiel shivers and watches Michael’s eyes darken further. “Bedroom.”

They end up leaving a trail of Michael’s clothes from the couch to the bed, and Castiel ends up on his back on the sheets, Michael on his hands and knees above him. His lover looks him up and down hungrily before kissing him again, harder and deeper this time until Castiel is out of breath and clinging to the soft cotton.

Michael peels him out of the panties with teasing touches, then spends a few minutes licking at Castiel’s hard cock before reaching to the bedside table for the lube. Cas pulls his knees up and bares himself, clenches down on the glass plug inside him with a low moan and his eyes on the impressive erection between Michael’s legs. Michael groans at seeing the glass between his cheeks.

“How open are you, darling?”

“Enough you can slide right in,” Cas promises huskily and then moans when Michael lightly tugs on the plug, pulling it out a little before letting it slide back in. He keeps doing it until Cas is moaning and begging for him to please, please fuck him, and Cas nearly sobs in relief when the plug gets pulled free finally and he hears the distinct sound of a condom wrapper being opened.

Michael’s cock pushing into him has him whine in need, because no matter how nice a glass plug is, it will never come close to an actual cock in Castiel’s opinion, and Michael is big enough to stretch him a little even after wearing the plug for hours.

His lover of the night is also a man of infinite patience, so the first slide in is slow and gentle, until Michael is as deep as he can get and Castiel is panting and moaning, feeling so damn full. “Please, move,” he gasps out, and Michael chuckles and complies, guiding Cas’ legs up around his hips before starting to roll his hips, slow and gentle and just enough to drive Cas slowly but surely mad.

He’s begging in a constant, breathless stream of words by the time Michael takes pity on him and starts moving faster and harder, and Castiel nearly screams when a hand wraps around his cock and starts stroking him in time with the thrusts into him.

Michael’s cock rubs insistently over his prostate, and Cas lasts only a handful of thrusts more before arching his back and shouting, covering Michael’s hand and his own belly with his release. Michael groans deep and low as Castiel’s hole clenches down on him hard but keeps fucking Castiel until he sinks back into the mattress. Only then does his lover let go himself, coming with a few more hard thrusts into Castiel’s twitching hole.

Cas pants and watches as Michael does the same. In a moment, his green-eyed lover of the night will pull out and get rid of the condom, and there’ll be sparkly water fresh from the fridge for him and a warm, wet washcloth to clean up with. Michael will curl up around him for a while and they’ll talk about whatever comes to mind, and maybe, they’ll have sex again if the mood strikes them.

In the morning, there will be a white envelope with the sum Michael owes him in cash, and Castiel will return to his own apartment and shower, and in a few days, he’ll get ready for the next appointment.

Yes, Cas is a private dancer, but he likes dancing to his own tune.

#spnkinkbingo #mrsimoshen writes #castiel/michael

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