#cool I'll look for the update! but you irritated me anyway

[mentally-a-slut]

Three Days (Arthur Morgan x Fem! Reader) (SMUT)

Anddddd here we are! Part two of 'Staring Problem'! This can be read as a stand alone, but if you want a suggestive lead up, then go read part one! I tried my best with this one, but I haven't written explicit smut like this in a long time, so go easy on me! Writing this also reminded me that I loathe writing in second person, so from here on out I think I'll either do first or third. I won't bore you with details here, but I'll put up a separate post updating y'all on some stuff. Anyway, enjoy, and please leave feedback! Silent readers are appreciated but leaving comments helps me get motivated to continue! Even just a one word comment or an emoji helps! - Azi >:)

Summary: Arthur's been gone on a job for three days, which isn't a new development. However, a new development in your relationship just before he left leave you wanting. But fear not, as your troubles will be soon solved!

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: unprotected PinV sex, smut, oral (f receiving), overall filth, reader is female, unedited (sorry), probably OOC Arthur but we're here for dick not character analysis!

You had always hated when Arthur went away on jobs, but ever since he left you hanging, your distaste for his long absences had grown.

You hadn't seen the man in three days, only getting a parting kiss and a heavy, heated promise as a farewell. The first day he was gone, you were mostly in awe of what had happened, wistfully going about your day and daydreaming of things to come.

The second day left you a little frustrated, the ache for him only growing with his absence. The other girls had noticed too, only making you more irritable as they teased you relentlessly for your obvious attitude change.

The third day was when you started to get worried. He'd been gone on longer jobs than this before, but you still couldn't help the nervous bouncing of your leg as you sat across from Tilly, trying to busy yourself with patching up some clothes.

"I'm sure he's fine. He's been gone much longer than this before."

Your lips contorted into a line, eyebrows knitted as you shook off the pain of the needle piercing the soft pad of your thumb. "I know. Just miss him, I guess."

Tilly just smiled and let you work in silence alongside her.

Arthur had gone to rob some stagecoach close to Emerald Ranch, along with Javier and Micah. You trusted Javier to help bring him back safely, but the addition of Micah made you nervous. He had a reputation of losing his cool and endangering the lives of everyone in a five mile radius.

Abigail had been very helpful the last couple of days. She understood every minor shift in your demeanor in the time he was gone. John was no stranger to long jobs, so Abigail knew exactly how it felt to sit idle while the men were out in danger.

John tried to be helpful, saying things about how Arthur had been bled half to death before and still made it back alive, but that only made things worse. You appreciated the effort, though.

It was getting close to evening now, the light of the sun slowly disappearing behind the horizon. You tried not to feel disappointed, knowing that if they were on the way back, they would likely stop and make camp for another night before arriving. Riding at night was never good unless they were on the way to a job. Riding back during the day was safer, and helped them keep an eye out for any witnesses or general hinderances along the way.

Just as you were about to resign yourself to your lonely bedroll for the night, the sound of rumbling hooves shook the ground under your feet.

You whipped your head around to see three healthy horses slowing to a walk near the hitch posts, each one carrying an upright, unharmed figure. You silently cursed the fact that Micah had made it back alive, but figured it was too much to hope that you'd get Arthur back and get rid of Micah in one day.

You didn't care what it looked like to the others, throwing all cares out as you rushed over to greet the man that had been haunting your thoughts for the last three days. He was just finishing up tying his big black shire to the post, taking the weight off his horse for the night, when you tackled him into a hug.

He stumbled slightly, your arms wrapping tightly around his waist as he snaked an arm around yours to steady himself. His breath tickled the top of your head as he chuckled. "Miss me?"

You scoffed and pulled your head from his chest, still gripping the sides of his jacket as you looked up at him. "You were gone three days!"

He smiled down at you and pulled you back against him, settling his other hand to cradle your head against his chest. "I missed you too, sweetheart."

All of a sudden, he withdrew, his eyes landing on the man a few feet away that was tending to his horse. "Javier!"

He turned. "Yeah, Arthur?"

"Tell Dutch me and my lady are goin' on a little vacation for a while, will ya?"

Javier nodded with a smirk, and you shrieked as Arthur lifted you onto his horse without warning. He followed shortly after, kicking his horse into a fast walk as a few wolf whistles resounded from camp.

You held onto his waist tightly as he sped up. "Where are we goin'?"

"Just into town."

"What are we gonna do there so late at night?"

You felt more than heard his responding chuckle. "Get a room."

"Oh. Oh."

The excitement that tingled through your body was electric, buzzing the whole ride there.

~~~~~~

You would have flustered at the knowing look on the hotel receptionist's face if you had been at all aware of anything but Arthur.

Arthur thanked the man before leading you up the stairs to the room, his large hand gripping yours the whole way there. You expected him to jump straight into action the second the door closed behind you, but instead his strong arms pulled you into a hug.

His arms encircled you and pressed you against him as he nestled his face into your neck. The vibration of his words against your neck sent sparks through your body straight to your core. "Thought about you the whole time."

You sighed into him, holding onto his as if he would disintegrate upon letting go. He only pulled back to gently tilt your chin up, pressing a sweet kiss against your lips.

The kiss was so soft, so filled with emotion, his fingers brushing lovingly across your cheek as your lips molded together. You were the one to lean into it, chapped lips parting and teeth nipping lightly at him.

The responding noise from him fueled your desire more, the desperate groan making your whole body ache for his touch. His hands moved from your waist to your hips, fingers bunching up in the fabric of your shirt as he fought your tongue with his.

When his rough fingers brushed against the bare skin of your waist, you whined into the kiss, arching into him. He chuckled against your lips, brushing his hands even further up your shirt and coming to a stop just under your tits.

You broke the kiss just for a moment to lift your shirt over your head, discarding it wildly behind you. You yelped as he lifted you and spun you around, walking you backwards towards the bed. You tugged him down on top of you, slipping a hand under his shirt to feel to ripples of muscle on his chest and stomach.

"Arthur," you whined, tugging at his shirt. He got the hint, discarding his shirt before meeting your lips again. His kiss was rougher this time, wet and messy as he took in the feeling of your body against his. You brought your legs up to circle around his waist, and you whimpered when he pressed his hips forward against yours, his hardened cock straining against his pants.

You tangled your hands in his hair, tugging lightly. He squeezed your hips in response, kissing down your neck and nipping at the skin on your chest.

His hands snaked around your back, undoing your bra without even pausing. He broke the kiss only when he pulled the straps down, revealing your chest to the open air. Your first instinct was to cover yourself, but he didn't even give you the chance.

You didn't have the brain capacity to be embarrassed at the sound that came out of you when he took a nipple into his mouth, gripping the other with his large hand. He groaned against you, his erection brushing against you. He was growing harder by the second, the mere sight of you arousing him intensely.

His unoccupied hand stroked down your stomach, slipping two fingers in the waistband of your pants. You nodded and begged desperately, writhing against him. "Please! Please, Arthur..."

He moved his lips to your other nipple, quickly unbuttoning your pants and ridding you of both them and your panties in one movement. His lips separated from your chest as he moved up to you, staring into your eyes with intense lust. "I'm gonna get you ready, baby, that okay?"

Your heart swelled with emotion, only intensifying your desire. Even when he was desperate with lust, he looks at you with such caring, always making sure your okay. "Yes, yes, please!"

He smiled at you before kissing you sweetly, slowly kissing down your body. You whined as his hot breath brushed your core, your head tilting up to look at him between your legs.

His eyes glittered with amusement as they met yours, a teasing finger brushing your inner thigh. It was so close to where you needed it, but so far. "You're a tease."

He chuckled, "Can't help it when you look so pretty beggin' for me."

You threw your head back and groaned, half in frustration and half in arousal. Your noise quickly shifted to a whine when he suddenly slid a finger across you folds, head fuzzy with pleasure. "So wet already. All for me, sweetheart?"

You groaned and nodded, hips shifting towards him in an attempt to get him to do it again. "Ah, use your words."

Your words were half whimpered. "Yes! All for you, only for you, please!"

"Good girl."

He swiped his finger through your folds again, this time teasing his fingertip around your aching entrance. You bucked against him when his thumb brushed against your clit, breathing coming out in short, whiny sighs. "Please."

"Whatever you say, baby."

You moaned as a finger slid into you, his thumb pressing harder against your clit. Before you could complain at the lose of stimulation when he removed his thumb, his lips connected and sucked harshly. Your moans were surely loud enough to be heard, but the pleasure that wracked your body was so overwhelming you couldn't bring yourself to care.

His finger slowly moved in and out, brushing against your sensitive walls as his tongue assaulted your clit. You tangled a hand in his hair, tugging harder than you intended. He groaned against you, making a jolt of pleasure shoot through you.

The stretch of another finger was added, making you cry out. It wasn't enough to be painful, just enough to make you stretch around him so deliciously. He pulled his lips off of you and looked down at you, eyes hungrily watching as your cunt swallowed up his fingers. You looked down at him, lips parted with pleasure as he worked his fingers inside you. "More."

He glanced up at you with a smirk, slipping in a third finger. It sent a small jolt of discomfort through you, but it was quickly overwhelmed with pleasure as the third finger pressed against the most sensitive parts of your walls. "Oh, fuck, Arthur!"

"Feel good, huh?"

"Yes! Please, please, I'm gonna cum!"

He sped up, his fingers pumping in and out of your relentlessly. He leaned back in to swirl his tongue against your clit, which made you walls start spasming around him. Your thighs tensed, threatening to close around him, but he pulled back and held your legs open.

"Go on, baby, I wanna see your pretty face when you cum."

You couldn't form any words as his fingertips curled inside you and prodded against you in a way that made you see stars. His encouraging words only pushed you closer and closer.

"Good girl, doin' so good for me." You moaned and clenched around his fingers, muscles spasming as the dam broke. Your eyes rolled back into your head as you came, short, whiny moans escaping your lips as he fingered you through it.

With a gentle kiss against your clit that made you twitch, he pulled his fingers out of you and rose to look at you. You forced your eyes open, smiling breathlessly up at him. "You okay?"

You couldn't help but laugh, pulling him in for a passionate kiss. "More than okay. That was amazing."

He smiled and kissed you again, slow and loving. You knew you could tell him you were done for the night and he would agree in a heartbeat, not even caring about his own unresolved desires. But his sweet kiss only fueled another spark, already tingling through your body. His moaned against your lips as you arched against him, legs moving to wrap around his waist and pull him against you.

He pulled away with a raised eyebrow. "You're a needy one, aren't you?"

"Only for you."

You pulled him back down, kissing him roughly and pressing your hands all over his bare skin. His hips bucked forward when you tugged at his waistband, his desperation shining through even when he tried to stifle it.

You pushed him back, catching him off guard and shoving him onto the bed. He chuckled and shifted further back, letting you swing your leg across his hips and straddle him. You leaned down to kiss down his neck, smiling at the soft murmurs of content as you nipped at his collarbone.

You reached between the two of you, unbuttoning his jeans and shoving them down. He helped you and kicked them the rest of the way off, leaving him in only his boxers. You stared down at the bulge that strained against the white fabric, a wet spot of pre cum soaking a part of it. You looked down at him with a proud smile. "I do that to you?"

His hands slid up your thighs and caressed you hips. "You do so much to me. More than you could ever imagine."

You leaned down to kiss him, pouring all your emotions of admiration and lust into it. His hands moved to your ass, squeezing as he groaned against your lips. Your hips pressed down against his. sending a shock of pleasure through you as your clit brushed against his clothed bulge.

He would have been content to kiss you like that forever, but you were growing more and more desperate with each touch. You slid your fingers into his boxers without breaking the kiss, gently stroking his cock. His reaction spurred you on, and you pushed his boxer down to release him.

You marveled at his size as he helped you discard his underwear, leaving him fully bare underneath you. He was thick, and longer than anyone else you'd ever had. Your hand continued to slowly stroke up and down his shaft, thumb smearing the beads of precum around him. You were transfixed on him, lost in the feeling of his soft skin against your palm.

"Fuck, baby, as pretty as you look doin' that, I don't wanna cum just yet."

You slowed your movements to a stop and looked up at him with a soft smile. The admiration you felt for the man beneath you was overwhelming, and you didn't know if you could ever truly explain to him how much he meant to you.

You slowly moved to kiss him again, soft and sweet. You let your hips relax against his, smirking as his hips shifted under you to gain friction. You moved your hips against his shaft, your cunt dragging against him. You continued grinding on him, breathing growing heavier as the tip of his cock teased at your entrance with each movement.

After a few more seconds of torturing him, you lifted your hips and gripped his cock, prodding him against you entrance. Before you moved, you pulled away from his kiss, sitting up and placing a hand on his chest for balance. He groaned as he looked up at you, poised above his cock, cunt dripping with anticipation.

Emotion shone in his eyes, gaze still so loving even when clouded with lust. With a sigh, you lowered yourself slightly, taking his tip inside. You knew it was going to be a stretch, so you had to restrain yourself and take it slow.

He groaned at the sight of your cunt swallowing him, even just the tip of him. You held his gaze as you lowered another two inches, fingers gripping his chest at the slight stretch. Soon, his hands gripped your hips tightly as he helped you sink down all the way, clit brushing against him as you were finally fully seated against his pelvis.

Your eyes were dark with lust, cunt clenching around his cock as you adjusted. His eyes flickered over you, rapidly moving between your joined bodies, your heaving chest, and your face. "So perfect. Take me so well."

His words spurred you to move, lifting your hips slightly and moaning sweetly as you sank back down. The pain of the stretch had completely disappeared, replaced with a blinding pleasure. You rolled your hips a few more times before rising further, speeding up.

His hands held your hips tightly, his thighs tensing as he tried to hold himself back. "Fuck, sweetheart, look at you. Swallowing me up like that."

His words only increased your desire, your hips rising and falling faster, legs lifting you further off his cock. His moaned as he stuttered out praises, hands tightening on your hips as you rose fully off him and slammed back down again. Your pace increased, his length filling you up perfectly and brushing against the sensitive spots within you.

You struggled to hold yourself as you got closer and closer, pace faltering. You whined, every breath coming out as a soft moan. "You're doin' so good baby, want me to take over?"

You managed a messy nod, and his hips immediately rose up to meet yours, hands moving your hips up and down on him. You threw your head back as your cunt spasmed, orgasm coming down hard and fast. "I'm- fuck! Gonna cum!"

"Go 'head baby, I've got you."

With his words, you moaned with your release, his cock still pounding into you as you rode it out. Your senses were fuzzy, everything covered in a blanket of pleasure. You didn't even realize he had flipped you over, your head against the soft pillow. As your vision cleared, you looked up at him, blissful smile on your face.

"You did so good, honey, think you can gimme another?"

You nodded blearily, spreading your legs further as he continued thrusting into at a ruthless pace. You were building up to another one fast, barely even recovered from your previous one. His hand rested against your throat, grounding you but not squeezing. "So gorgeous, my pretty girl. Look so good stuffed full of my cock."

You moaned pathetically, hands going up to hold his face and grip his hair. "You feel so good, Arthur, I- I love how you make me feel."

He groaned in response, slamming into your cunt even faster. "So tight for me, gonna make me cum. Where d'ya want me?" He struggled to get the question out, his voice stammering through moans.

"Inside. Fill me up, Arthur."

His hand tightened around your throat for a moment at your words, and he moaned loudly. "Fuck, you're gonna kill me."

His movements grew sloppier, fingers pressing against your throat as he pressed his lips to yours in a messy kiss. With a few more thrusts, your own orgasm came to a head, only slightly preceding his.

His groaned against your lips and your walls clenched around him, his cum painting your insides as you milked him. He fucked you through it, kiss growing softer as he slowed to a stop. He stilled inside you, pulling back to look in your eyes.

You looked back at him, lips curled into a soft smile as he rested his forehead against yours. He pulled out carefully, planting a sweet kiss on your lips to distract you from any discomfort.

He shifted to lay next to you, turning his head to look at you. "You okay?"

You smiled and looked at him. "With you? Always."

[smilingangel582]

Heyy sorry to do this. Requests will be closed by the end of October! Hehe, I may not seem it, but I'm kinda young, and I got exams, hehehe, so I'll make it up by writing a few more before this 14th.

So Dan heng caught me attention. Unfortunately, honkai Star Rail has to be given up because I can't afford to mega games (latter is genshin impact). Anyway, lee!Dan heng it is! Out of the question! He deserves it!

Ps I love this new design, and I'm one to talk when I am spoiled too, so spoilers for Honkai star rail new update. But its before he turns super duper hot... he's still super hot! Heeee squeee!

Same as always

March 7th had definitely gone to Himeko for something she wished to discuss with her. Caelus was alone with Dan heng who was always in the solitary state. His aura is calm and unapproachable. Its like an arena in a thunderstorm, waiting to strike once the conquerer is disturbed.

But Caelus loves to mess with a serious guy like him.

"Dan heng~?"

He knew the teasy tone from Caelus too well, he sighed "Yes? Caelus?"

"Wanna play a game?"

He stared, his deep eyes peirced through his own golden orbs, "Play that Nintendo switch by yourself"

Caelus pouted now. "I wanna play with you, duh!"

Dan heng silently leaned back against the couch of his room. He lifted the book up so he could read it better "Try reading, at least a word?"

That little!

Caelus wondered, how can someone so cool and collected be flustered. He certainly can be annoyed but not enough.

March would try to disturb him.

So...

Dan heng had ears so he could tell Caelus, circling behind him where his head rested on the arm of the couch, looking at the book. Sitting straight now, Caelus leaned over his shoulder and eyeing the large heavy words and texts on the boring book.

Caelus pointed out warily "man you are so weird"

"I could say the same. Why are you so clingy?" He sharply said, trying to move front by his hands, grabbing his shoulders to stop his movement.

"Stop touching me so causally, please..."

"Serious dude!" Caelus groaned playfully and then surprising Dan heng he drilled two index fingers on his exposed ribs, startling him as he dropped the book.

Caelus smirked, really didn't expect him to be ticklish but had hopes he succeeded.

Sighing Dan heng pretended to not have felt ot "Stop touching me so casually Caelus, what do you want?"

He hummed now once more hooking an arm over his shoulder and pulling him close to his side "ahhh bro chill, your so stiff and rigid, lighten up" he tossed the book in front of him and Dan henf sighed irritably "Gosh, March's influence sure is amazing"

True... now that she's contagious he feels more attentive tk mess with Dan heng.

Sneaking an arm to his ribs, Dan heng stiffened as the tickly touch. Its casual and testing, Dan heng tried to hide it.

"Somerhing wrong?" Caelus grinned, now gently pinching his sides, which he tried to hide. Dan heng cleared his throat, still holding a straight but anxious face.

So he's fighting back? Interesting, Caelus snickered.

A little tweak to the hips-

"Eek!" Dan heng almost ruined his endurance, he grabbed his wrist in swift motion now giving a dark glare "Caelus, cut it out... this is very irritating"

Caelus giggled "Come on admit thst tickles?" He poked his tummy to force him "right? Right tough guy?"

"A-absurd yohou should give up! Chihildish techniques won't work on mehe!" He says it with trembling giggles. Cute... Caelus didn't think his icy nature could melt so sweetly.

Crumble his defence a little around here.

"H-hey!" His ribs...

Then another wiggle to his tummy.

"K-knohock it off! I'm warning yohou!"

Finally sneaky fingers under his neck to expose his armpits. He gasped at that and...

"Gotcha, Dan heng"

It was at this moment that Dan heng was slightly impressed by his strategic plan. Of only, he uses his brain during missions as well.

"Gehehe, ahahalright, you hahahad your fuhun!"

"Wait, did Dan heng honest to god giggled!?" Genuinely, he was surprised. it's a rare sight to see his face blush and explode with giggles.

"Cute..."

"Hahahahaha nohoho!" That triggered him tk blush. Alright this is too cute, why didn't March tell him something this important... unless nobody knows but themselves?

Caelus knew armpits should weaken him, so he kept his target there whole Dan heng could concentrate to push him off.

"Man, you sure are sensitive, I expected you to have escaped this by now, but you're too ticklish for your own good"

"STAHAHAP TALKING!" His voice shrieked, the usual calmness was gone now he was loud when Caelus grabbed his ears.

Those blushing ears were a dead giveaway to his sensitivity. Dan heng widened his eyes grabbing his wrists and shaking his head "T-thahat tickles... WAHAHAHAIT! EHEHEHEHE PLEHEHEASE I GIHIHIVE UP!"

Caelus obliged and cupped Dan heng's face with adornment "you should laugh more bro... its adorable"

Pushing his hand away and blushing even more redder than earlier, he panted, "I... hahate you, childish idiot"

"Love you too, handsome"

Although they both did know, he somewhat enjoyed that as a smile lingered close to his lips even after the tickle attack. Maybe just a tiny bit... he could say he liked it? Probably, he won't mind another round with Caelus.

[fivegaze]

3.31

mm heres what i did today- i added the combo system (where you have to follow the key sequence on screen to add damage to your attack), fixed what was wrong with it (i kept trying to access the scene variables not realizing that with an additive scene there would be two science variables objects and it was trying to pull from the wrong one.) when that stopped being broken (aka i just plopped the whole thing into the same scene which felt like an anticlimactic solution but hey) i finally fit it into the state machine. it's not fully functional yet, but when i sat down they weren't even connected at all

there she is! my incredibly janky combo system. please ignore the way everything just stacks on top of each other that's not. staying there i am going to animate it. none of these ui graphics aside from the menu buttons and text choices are final btw i am not leaving those govt street sign ass arrows in there.

this is what the state machine looks like for the combo system :] i called it combo crusher <3 i always worry that my state machines look really janky and cluttered but i guess that doesn't matter as much as if it's working lol. ummm one day i'll learn C# (and html because god lmao) but for now it's just me and my little visual scripting machines against Da World.

the second pic here is how i'm currently detecting input which feels silly to me but there's no event block for "any key down" just this one so that's what i'm doing for now. my blatant abuse of on update is what got me into such a Freaking pickle with something's on the station. fun fact that game is Not built with fungus like space case and the VN scenes for soul squad. i wanted to do it myself and i spent so long building a prototype for UI that i didn't even end up using at all that by the time it was time to plug in the dialogue i didnt really have a lot of time to work the system out. so it's just the world's worst dialogue system. do you wanna see it it's SO bad

i can't even fit it into one screenshot. every time you click the "advance dialogue" button it checks to see if you're on the last line and if not it's like okay what line ARE you on then. at which point it pulls from a list of every voice line (unlabeled and barely organized btw) and corresponding dialogue line which is, like, fine, okay, whatever, and ALSO,

IT'S CHECKING WHAT LINE YOU'RE ON EVERY FRAME and just going through a giant if/else chain to make sure the right characters are active. also on every frame it's updating the text color, just in case. also sometimes more than one character is active and it just completely breaks the color coded character text. like okay this could definitely be worse but it sure could be better. i'm being overly self-critical bc i'm an annoying perfectionist (to the incredible detriment of my wellbeing and productivity, obviously) so the fact that it was all completed during a semester gives me SO much room to self-crit. i'm still really proud of it even though i ran out of time to bugfix and i didn't have time to level any of the audio or clean up any of the voice lines. (seriously though this is me being proud of something i make i just don't know how to not like pick my work apart. /neutral.)

anyway this is supposed to be a soul squad update so let's move on from that

this is the turn system btw! combo crusher is brand new. i already have a (time consuming) move selection set up which is irritating bc i'm gonna have to go in and undo everything so i can add a new movelist but i'm moving that out of the priority spotlight(tm) because um my (writing) scripts are NOT done and i need them to be done. cheers and light and love this is gonna be such a meaty github upload im pumped. i love writing myself little devlogs for me and me only. like a little treat

anyway that's all i did today besides go to an extremely short job interview which was cool. i really hope i get the job because i would like to be able to afford rent :D

[fandomshatepeopleofcolor]

you should check the update for the amber alert -- in general I find that you guys reblog news without the most recent updates which is fine like but you guys have a substantial follower base receiving inaccurate or outdated information

We reblog posts from our dashes, meaning things going around rn, how are we supposed to know if it's been updated under 70k notes? If there's been an update you're welcome to inform us of it and we'll be grateful, but keep your condescension to yourself.

Do you know how many we don't reblog for that reason? Because they spread misinformation or are old? Far, FAR more than those very few that might slip by.

Like I have no problem deleting a post or adding more info if you guys notice and point us to it, but do you think you've never reblogged something old in your life? Do you think no updates have ever slipped past you? "Do better" well then come and do it yourself?

Let's see if all 70k posts in your blog are 1000% up to date and they have not even one (1) missing or broken link . ~mod ara

[heloisedaphnebrightmore]

It's teasing, love [Bucky Barnes x Reader]

Title: It's teasing, love Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader Word count: 1.4k Published: 5 October 2021 Author: Heloise Daphne Brightmore Warnings: Bit of a make out session Summary: You've been battling a cold for the past three days and it takes a toll on Bucky to keep himself away from you longer than he deems necessary.

Marvel Characters Masterlist | Masterlists

If you enjoy my stories, please consider donating and supporting me on Ko-fi. Of course, it’s completely your choice, I will continue updating for free anyway :) Thank you <3

For the past three days, you've been stuck in bed, coming down with a terrible cold that seemed to enjoy your company more than you did. Your nose felt stuffy, your voice was barely audible, and your fever was coming and going like a yoyo, making your head spin. Though a part of you knew that a couple of days of rest could only do you good, your less reasonable part was screaming to get out of that damned bed and move.

Unfortunately, each time you tried to escape from under the layers of duvets and blankets to go to the bathroom, your legs threatened to buckle under you, your head feeling woozy from simple movements. Even your eyes felt heavy and tired at all times, regardless of how much you slept. But it didn't stop you from reading. Tucking yourself under the layers of covers, you leaned against the headboard, sinking deep in your fluffy pillows and immersed in the fictional word you found yourself to be entranced by.

"It seems I cannot leave you alone, not even for 5 minutes." A deep baritone voice made you jump from across the room and as you lifted your gaze, Bucky looked back at you with a sceptical look across his face, arms folded in front of his chest, his muscled body leaning against the frame of the bedroom door.

"One chapter. One chapter, that's all," you nodded, though you couldn't fool him. It was more of a plea to yourself than to him, knowing how often you got carried away and one chapter turned into multiple, if not the whole book.

"Am I supposed to believe that?" He arched a brow and fixed his narrowed eyes on you, his gaze threatening to read your mind.

"I promise?" You asked, your nasal voice sounding squeakier and higher, making Bucky scoff with a humorous undertone. His reaction brought out your already built up, bed-ridden frustration and in turn you huffed at him and pouted, before turning your gaze away, focusing back on your book in your lap.

"Don't go sulking on me, love. I'm worried about you," his tone softened as he walked into the room and took a seat on the edge of the bed, but he frowned regardless. "Can you hear me?" He asked, but you just ignored him. To be honest, anything could have sparked your frustration at that point, even a too hot or too cold cup of tea. Everything and anything had become irritating to you. Even yourself. A simple huffing sound was all you managed to indicate you heard him. "Hey," his voice was barely beyond a whisper as he reached for your face, the cool metal against your skin making you let out a content sigh against the touch. "Oh, you like that, huh?" A playful smirk started growing across his handsome face, but you couldn't be mad. Not when that cool sensation his touch offered you finally started clearing your mind.

"That's— that's nice," you breathed as your eyes fluttered shut and you leaned against his palm.

"If you could see the look on your face—," he didn't finish the sentence, but you could only imagine the satisfaction that he could read off you. The thought made your cheeks heat up, but you couldn't get yourself to move away from his touch as he turned his hand and placed the back of it on your cheek, earning a silent moan from you. "Now that is outright teasing, love," he arched a brow, watching your eyes slowly open, still in complete daze of the sweet coolness against your skin. "If you keep acting like that, I'll have no choice but to kiss you," he warned you, though it only made the corner of your mouth curve up. You were as desperate as he was to finally feel his lips on yours, but you basically forbade him from coming any closer to you than his side of the bed. "Three days, love, it's been three days and I obeyed, but I have my limits too and when you purse your lips like that, it's stretching my patience thin." He wasn't lying, his eyes seemed to be enamoured by your lips, his gaze attached to the sight of them shamelessly.

Once he turned his hand back again and placed the cool plates of his metal palm against your skin, you couldn't control the inaudible moan that escaped your lungs. Before you could even say anything, Bucky pushed himself off the edge of the mattress and leaned towards you, his eyes closing as he anticipated that sweet kiss he'd been waiting for days.

You had just enough wit to stop his lips with the back of your book, watching his eyes shoot open as he felt the paper against his mouth. His eyes grew wide as he realised you stopped his attack, daring to separate him from you before he could succeed. "That is just rude," he groaned with a deep frown and placed his index finger on the top of the book, gently nudging it down to your lap. "I'm over 100 years old with super soldier serum running through my veins. I survived stab wounds, bullet shots, even falling from a mountain. I can reassure you, a cold is nothing to me. So, if you could kindly give me those lips, I'd very much appreciate it," for a moment you debated whether to laugh or kiss him, but at last you grabbed the neck of his shirt, pulling him closer and pressed your lips against his.

The desperate groaning sound leaving his lips made you smile into the kiss. Eager to please, you licked across his bottom lip, waiting for permission to devour his mouth. Without hesitation, he opened for you, but he didn't let you lead. He fought for dominance and as he dug his metal hand into your hair, pulling you closer by the back of your neck, you let him take control, offering yourself up to him.

It felt like fire was scorching through your veins, fever seemingly retracting from the incoming heat Bucky had the audacity to awaken in you. He pulled away for a mere second to give you time to breathe, but before you could have enjoyed the ticklish feeling his breath on your lips offered, he pounced on your lips like a wild beast ready to devour its prey. Grabbing his shoulders, you tried to ground yourself, his sensuous attack turning your mind into a mess of thoughts consisting only of Bucky and his body pressed against yours.

But then he pulled away, leaving just enough gap for both of you to organise your breathing. "I think that's enough for now, love," his voice was hoarse, his eyes dark from lust, still he halted his attack on your body, mind, and senses, each hyper-focusing on Bucky as though he was the sole purpose of your existence. You would have felt shame for such a thought if it wasn't for the hazy mind that could only think of Bucky's hands on your body, his lips pressed against yours, his body becoming one with yours. A loud whine left your lungs, disappointment filling you up as you finally realised that was all you'd get.

"But Bucky—," you wanted to object, but he ran his metal thumb across your lips, leaving you with a content sigh.

"You're still sick and I need you to recover as quickly as you can," he said with a stern tone. "Once you're alright, I'll do anything you wish me to do to you." The mischievous glint in his eyes, the offer hanging in the air left you silent for a moment, tasting those words as you could just imagine what waited for you once you recovered.

"Anything?" You arched a brow as you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, Bucky's eyes immediately focusing on your movements. He cleared his throat, prying his eyes away from your playful mouth, fixing his gaze on yours.

"Anything," he replied, his eyes darkening, anticipating each and every naughty little idea that could possibly come to you.

"Fine, I guess I'll have to recover quickly then," you said with a wide grin. Bucky just shook his head in a reply, mirroring your expression, before he took the book from your lap and placed it on the nightstand. He laid down beside you, pulling you into his arms and let you rest on his chest. He pressed a small kiss to the top of your head, securing his arms around you tighter, basking in the closeness you so rudely denied from him all this time.

Notes: If you enjoyed reading this little piece, please don’t forget to leave a like, comment and/or reblog. Your opinion matters and gives us motivation. Thank you ^^

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Taglists are in reblog.

[alottanothing]

Kismet

Summary: Evie prepares a meal for the stranger who helped her and finds herself more than a little smitten.

Previous Part: Hope

Word Count: 5707

Warnings: Language

Tag List: @ramilicious, @txmel, @edteche2, @gloriousdarkangelsworld, @diasimar, @xmxisxforxmaybe (Let me know if I missed you, or if you would like to be added to the tag list)

A/N: Okay, I almost didn't get this up today because I was up most of the night sewing kilts for Highland Weekend at the Ohio Renfiare. BUT I stayed awake and did my final read-through, so this should be mostly okay. I skipped a couple steps in my editing to get this up on time but I think, for the most part, it's okay. If you see a grammatical booboo, just ignore it, I'll get in here sometime this week with my other two editing steps and find it, then repost this. Capisce? Okay, cool...now. I hope you enjoy it, I also hope my trying to phonetically write Mer's accent doesn't get too annoying. I know you really shouldn't write accents, but I think it helps add to the characters. And I do try to keep it to a minimum so it doesn't get annoying. Thanks for the love the first part received last month! I know waiting so long between updates is a bit sad after weekly updates with LtR. But life is busy right now and once a month is all can guarantee.

Jonny did not know how to keep a house.

In fact, Jonny did not know how to do much more than drink, argue, and get into fights. He was nothing but a thorn in Evie's side—never mind how much she needed him for a place to lay her head. A necessary thorn was still a thorn. Given the opportunity, she would rip it out as soon as she could and dress the wound promptly so she was finally able to heal better. She stayed only because she had no other choice. And every time Jonny raised his voice or stumbled in reeking of alcohol and red-faced, Evie could hear her best friend's warning in her head. Cynthia had begged her not to go with him, but she hadn't listened.

Oh, how she wished she had.

Luckily, Jonny wasn't the kind of man who liked to stay home which eased the ache of the ever-present thorn in her side. Whatever money he did have, he spent out on the town—the town being New Orleans. Like Evie, Jonny had been born and raised in the Big Apple, the noise and the chaos was part of him. As such, he hadn't taken to the quiet suburban life Bridge City offered as well as Evie. She liked the quiet, easy flow of the sleepy town. Her housemate loathed his new home. He thrived in disarray, thus, he found a group of like-minded young men to run amok with in the neighboring metropolis every chance he got.

If Jonny had been any sort of amicable company, the notion of him leaving most every night to wreak havoc several miles away would have been upsetting. Thankfully, his penchant for city life meant a good portion of Evie's days were spent out from under Jonny's tyranny. The hours he was gone were blissful and calm, and she relished in them. Whether she was creating art or tending to chores around the old house, Evie didn't care as long as Jonny wasn't there—never mind how lonely the routine often was.

Evie had never gotten the chance to meet Jonny's maternal grandmother, though she suspected she would have liked to. Unlike her grandson, she seemed like any other sweet elderly woman judging by the furnishings she'd left behind. There were dozens of lace doilies, and table cloths with soft patterns, decretive china even, but it was the plethora of photos the old woman kept that told Evie she'd carried a kindly heart. All of them were kept in pristine albums or intricate frames; they were the only barbles that seemed to have been cleaned or dusted with any regularity which spoke of how much she must have treasured them. Evie loved those tiny trinkets and black and white memories. It didn't matter that they were not her legacy of family heirlooms to keep, she adored them anyway.

She couldn't count the number of times she'd replaced a broken frame that had fallen victim to Jonny's drunken belligerence or scrubbed tirelessly at a stain he'd left on the patterned tablecloths. It proved to be a hefty undertaking, but dwelling in the fantasies of someone else's history let her forget the grief of her own. She was willing to sacrifice a little elbow grease if it allowed her mind to roam away from the shadow that never really seemed to vanish.

For all the effort Evie put in on the interior, the cottage held little in the way of curb appeal. The porch was sunken in the middle, the paint was peeling off in chunks, and the yard was mostly weeds. Worst, however, was the screen door which squeaked so loudly, every dog in the neighborhood howled in protest every time someone crossed the threshold. The outside needed love that Evie simply didn't have the energy to lend. Despite the grit, however, the foundations were sturdy enough that she didn't worry. The cottage proved to be stronger than she looked—a feat Evie felt she had in common with the old house. And while it was a swell enough place to rest her head, it never truly felt like home. Home was somewhere safe, and as long as Jonny lived under that roof she wasn't safe. Not really.

Fortunately, Jonny wasn't home when Evie returned after her run-in with Mr. Shelton—Mer, she corrected herself with a hint of a giddy smile. Without her housemate there, her evening promised to be hopeful instead of lonely, and she wasted no time in figuring out what to make for dinner.

With her red pumps replaced by her worn-in slippers and her blue checkered apron secured around her waist, she set a pot of water to boil and dialed the phone conveniently located in the kitchen. Every evening she called her sister-in-law to pass the time and keep up on unimportant gossip back home; this time, however, Evie was excited to finally have some good news to share.

"You got the job, didn't you?" Cynthia Clarke asked on the other end, sounding hopeful. "I knew you would."

Evie grinned, still amazed how the sound of Cyn's voice always seemed to settle some of the ever-present anxieties buzzing in her head. She missed her friend so much.

"I didn't even say yes."

"Did you or did you not get the job?" Cynthia pressed.

"I did," Evie confirmed and her smile grew hearing her friend cheer on the other end of the phone.

"See! I knew it." Cynthia said. "My gut feeling is always right."

Evie rolled her eyes and shook her head fondly.

"I think I'm gonna like working there too, so that's good." she mused as she stood at the stove, eyeing the pot of water she’d set to boil.

"That's so great, Ev. I'm so proud of you." Cynthia paused before continuing. "So, what are you up to tonight? Avoiding Jonny?"

"Sorta," Evie nodded even though she knew her friend wouldn't see.

As she continued to watch her cooking pot of water she told Cynthia all about her trouble with Jonny's car and the man who'd been so kind to help her.

"Wait. You invited the stranger over who fixed the car?" Concern was heavy in Cyn's voice, and Evie half expected a lecture to follow.

Despite knowing each other since childhood, Cynthia had taken on the role of her protector since Evie's family was no longer in the picture. The war had claimed Evie's father, and brother—although they'd never found her brother, Jimmy after he disappeared behind enemy lines. Evie never lost hope that Jimmy would one day be found, Cynthia though, was certain her husband was never coming home. After Cyn’s brother, Charlie, died at Normandy Cynthia had difficulty believing anyone was going to make it home. As for Evie's mother, losing a child and her husband to the war was too much for her tender heart and she passed not long after. Ever since, Cynthia was overcome with the need to act as Evie's guardian.

"He wouldn't let me pay him," Evie explained. "So I'm making him dinner—it seemed like the least I could do."

"I suppose…." Cynthia didn't sound convinced, if anything she sounded slightly irritated there was no quick way for her to argue the logic. "Just be careful, Evie. You don't know this guy—he could be another Jonny Doyle. Or worse."

"He's not," Evie said quickly. She wanted nothing more than to tell her friend all about how benevolent Mer was, but she decided against it. Cynthia would only argue that point somehow.

A long pause followed, and Evie wedged the receiver between her ear and shoulder so her hands were free to work on the meal.

"So, what are you cooking?" This time, there was a hint of jest in her friend's tone when she spoke.

The art of cooking was one creative outlet that Evie struggled with, second only to music. In her youth, her mother did all the cooking—it was a passion of her mother's—thus Evie had done little more than watch in wonder as her mother whipped up meal after meal effortlessly. Breakfast she the meal she was probably best at, apple pies too, but anything beyond that Evie required a step by step guide to prepare. And even then she lacked confidence. Thankfully, when she'd fled south, she remembered to grab her mother's cookbook. It was a cumbersome tome with yellowed pages and notes scribbled into the margins: a piece of art itself cultivated over years of collecting recipe after recipe starting the moment her mother stepped off the boat that brought her from Ireland. And like a witch and her spellbook, Evie depended on it.

"Spaghetti with garlic bread," Evie admitted feeling as though the meal lacked a certain something.

Pasta was something she knew held a low degree of difficulty when it came to preparing. Surely she couldn't mess up pasta.

“Mmm, I can almost smell it,” Cynthia said.

“Shut up.”

“No, seriously,” Cyn replied. “You’re mom’s spaghetti recipe was always my favorite.”

A doleful smile pulled at the corners of her lips, thinking back to her mother happily cooking in the kitchen as she sang a Celtic tune. It seemed strange that those moments would never again play out, instead they’d become bittersweet memories Evie could only relive in her mind.

“Mine too,” she murmured, suddenly missing her family.

Neither of them said anything for a moment, and Evie’s mind roamed the dregs of her grief before blinking back into reality and the hope of something happy to come.

“I need to go, Cyn,” Evie told her friend with a sigh. “I don’t want to burn the garlic bread.”

Cynthia chuckled and said her goodbye, only after making Evie promise to call her in the morning to let her know how everything went.

With her second hand restored after hanging up, Evelyn reached for her mother’s cookbook to give the steps another look over to ensure she had done everything and added every herb and ingredient she was supposed to. She’d followed everything perfectly, even factoring in the little notes scribbled into the margins left there by her mother—those she smiled at fondly and traced the fading ink with her fingers. Everything was as it should be. Even so, without a taste, Evie knew the sauce she had prepared would never be as savory as what her mother made so effortlessly.

“You were the artist in the kitchen, Ma,” she said with a shrug. “I’ll stick to paper and canvas.”

For the smallest of a moment Evie thought she would hear the warmth of her mother’s laugh, and when it never came she sighed again, trying not to dwell on the shadows behind her. What mattered was the light ahead.

Despite her lack of confidence, the meal came together without any severe hiccups. The noodles were not overcooked, the sauce was a complementing mix of savory and sweet (though, as she had guessed after a tiny taste, was not nearly as good as her mother's) and the garlic bread was nicely golden. A small tingle of pride manifested in the form of a surprised, but satisfied, smile as she surveyed the dinner before her.

“Not bad, Ev,” she told herself, knowing her mother would have been delighted.

With the cooking done, Evie threw a glance over her shoulder to the clock mounted on the wall, triggering a surge of anxiety to bubble in her gut. Stranger, perhaps, was the amount of excitement coursing through her veins. It was as though all of her happiness was riding on whether or not she would see Merriell again. None of it made sense; the man was little more than a stranger. The coupling of nerves and delight was not a feeling that put her ill at ease, however. She trusted it. And it was that peculiar sensation that seemed to fuel her movements.

With a few minutes to spare, Evie wandered into the small bathroom to freshen up. She made sure her hair was still pinned the way she liked—up and pretty. Her make-up was holding up nicely despite the heat; all she needed was a fresh layer of lipstick to complete the illusion of a put-together young lady. It wasn't often she wore a dress with heels and a face of cosmetics—she liked to when the opportunity arose, but she was just as comfortable in a pair of old overalls and smudges of charcoal on her face.

Just as she wiggled back into her red pumps—discarding her worn-in house slippers with a couple of calculated kicks—a knock on the door signaled Merriells arrival. Immediately a grin curled onto Evie's lips and her heart began to pound an anxious-excited rhythm. A blush threatened to color her cheeks to give away the torrid muscle beating in her chest—her ever yearning heart already making leaps and bounds for a man she had known for mere hours.

Don't be ridiculous—she warned herself taking in a deep breath to curb the eagerness coursing in her veins. Untying her apron, she tossed it along with her discarded slippers and went to answer the door, taking one last deep breath to steady the fervor in her heart.

Merriell had changed and showered. The sweet bouquet of his shampoo coupled invitingly with the musk of the aftershave he'd chosen, making it difficult for Evie to keep from soaking in the scent he carried. His curls were still somewhat damp—too much moisture in the air to keep the heat from drying them on his way over—though they fought to spring back into their previous fluff. The grease-covered, jeans he'd been wearing had been replaced by a nice pair of tan slacks, and the buttoned shirt he wore was a soft shade of green that made his eyes glitter a deeper emerald as he stood under the glow of the porch light. All Evie could do was stare—utterly beguiled—every rational thought in her head lost to her.

Mer smirked, amused by her ogling. "Hiya."

Evie blinked, coming back to reality, suddenly feeling foolish, and uttered a nervous "hi" before swinging her arm to invite him inside.

"Come in."

Merriell's smile grew as he crossed the threshold, inhaling deeply. "Mm, smells tasty in here."

He gently forced a bottle into her hands as he passed on his way to investigate the savory smells in the kitchen.

"I wasn' sho what ya was makin', but I figured wine usually goes with anythin'."

"Oh, thank you." Evie glanced at the label, unable to read the French words printed there. "You didn't have to bring anything."

"I know," Mer shrugged, placing his hands in his pockets. "I just wanted to make a good impression."

There was something almost boyish when he smiled then—cheeks coloring pink ever-so-slightly—that made him even more of a mystery. One Evie was eager to solve.

"Well," she said placing the bottle on the kitchen table. "It should go perfectly with dinner."

His expression lost a hint of its boyish charm as it grew into a look of delight.

"Make yourself at home," Evie gestured vaguely between the table and the sofa in the living room as she ventured to the cabinet where the stemware was kept.

She placed two crystal glasses on the table along with the wine and retraced her steps to fetch some of the nicer china Jonny's grandmother had kept. Mer watched her, his gaze, gentle and attentive, and a little bit yearning as she methodically sat the table.

"Need help with anythin'?" he asked finally.

"Nope," She replied with a smile. "Everything is almost ready."

The hearty red sauce on the stove was beginning to boil again which told her it was hot enough to serve, and Evie eyed the pot with scrutiny, praying silently her attempt at cooking would go over well.

"I'll pour us a glass then," Mer announced.

"Great, lemme…" Evie spun to fish for the corkscrew in the drawer of misfit utensils, finding it, only to turn to see Merriell holding his lighter against the neck of the dark bottle just below the cork.

Before she could ask, a loud pop sounded, causing her to jump as the cork went flying.

"Oh my goodness!" she laughed, a little surprised, a little impressed. "Where did you learn to do that?"

Mer shrugged, a sly expression on his features, and left her question unanswered.

"How much ya want?" He held the open bottle over the top of her glass, waiting patiently.

"Enough," she said, tossing him a coy smirk without really meaning to.

He bit his lower lip as he smiled, chuckling under his breath when he poured a generous glass of red wine for each of them. She thanked him as he took his seat and grabbed his plate to dish out their dinner.

"How much pasta would you like?"

Mer's face lit with charm and mischief as he turned to face her.

"Enough," he grinned.

The expression on his face was playful, his smirk devious and amused by his own response and his cheekiness settled warmly in Evie's stomach. Not only did she revel in it, but she also played into his whimsy and scooped as much spaghetti into his plate as she could before coupling it with the savory sauce and a slice of bread.

Despite being only strangers, the atmosphere that bloomed that evening was not marked by any hint of bashfulness, instead, it was relaxed and amiable. Warmth that Evie had longed to dwell in again—that unrefutable kindness she'd lost with the passing of her family—flowed uninhibited from the man sitting adjacent to her. His conversation was cautious but still jovial and genuine. It was the first time since running south Evie could recall what life felt like without grief and fear weighing upon her. Merriell was a stranger, but she felt safe with him. Jonny had never made her feel that way.

"So," Evie spoke as she twirled the last bit of pasta with her fork. "What is it you do, Mr. Shelton?"

Mer cast her a look of disapproval—no doubt in retaliation to being addressed so formally—before his features softened back into a neutral, yet somehow still amused side smirk.

"Nothin' too excitin'," he stated vaguely. "The odd jobs are what I like ta do the most—like fixin' ya car this aftah noon."

Without really meaning to, Evie leaned forward, resting her elbow and chin on the table, utterly enchanted by the beautiful stranger at her table.

"You like to get your hands dirty, huh? Fixing things?" she was entirely too intrigued with the thought of what he could do with his hands.

He shrugged, suddenly modest after a foray of playfully arrogant smirks and glances. It made him abruptly twice as charming.

"I've always had a knack for it, I guess." Merriell finished the food on his plate with the help of his remaining garlic bread to mop up the sauce still left on his dish.

"What about you?" he asked after chewing. "Ya workin' anywhere?"

All at once, a proud smile lit up Evie's face. After all the excitement of seeing Merriell again, she'd almost forgotten about her good news.

"Actually, I just got a job today—the general store downtown, Southern Comfort."

Mer's face lit up too, "Birdie's place?"

"Yeah, you know it?" Of course, he knows it! She thought, Bridge City's population was slightly less than the number of people who lived in a single district back home in New York. Everyone knew everyone else.

"Sho do—I was practically raised there…ole Birdie's like a second mothah to me."

"Really?" Evie found a great deal of comfort in that notion. In fact the more she thought on it, the more she realized how similar the old woman and Mer were; they radiated the same magnetism and sincerity.

"Mmhm," he nodded, his eyes focusing elsewhere as the veil of memories danced across the contours of his features. "My mama used ta work there…once upon a time…"

"Does she still work there?"

Merriell's face lost a hit of its levity and he swallowed as though to fight off the onslaught of sudden emotion threatening to cast a shadow onto his expression.

"No…" he said softly. "She—uh—she died, about a year ago."

Shit!

Abruptly, sick knots twisted into Evie's stomach, feeling callous, but understanding of the quiet misery he hid under layers of charm and arrogance.

"Merriell, I'm…I'm sorry—I didn't mean…"

He met her eyes and cast her a quick smile—doleful, but enough to ease the awful feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"It's okay," he reassured her, reaching for his glass of wine and taking a good gulp before changing the subject. "Birdie's great—you'll enjoy workin' for her."

"I hope so…" Evie said softly, still too embarrassed to meet Mer's glance longer than a second or two.

For the first time all night the atmosphere they shared felt cumbersome—perhaps more melancholy—than she'd wanted it to get. Evie sat, worrying her bottom lip, her fingers toying with a loose thread in the table cloth as she stole quick glances through her lashes in Mer's direction.

He was nursing the alcohol in his glass with the same sadness she'd caught plaguing him as he sat at the bar hours ago. And while Evie was eager to know if his grief stemmed only from the loss of his mother, or perhaps more, Merriell was still too much of a stranger to warrant such questions. It didn't matter how easy it was to be near him, she had not earned the right to know his narrative.

A soft sigh broke past her lips as she fought to find a way to properly allay the gloom that was quickly ruining an otherwise wonderful evening. It wasn't until her eyes found their desert sitting on the counter, waiting to save the day, that she perked up.

"Got any room for apple pie?" Evie asked with a hesitant smile. She hoped he wanted to stay long enough to have a slice, though she would not have blamed him for wanting to leave.

Immediately Mer perked up too, the shadows on his features retreating with the promise of something sweet.

"I was countin' on it—seems as how you promised a slice earlier," he said with a boyish grin.

When she stood, he did too, helping clear away their dinner plates, and letting them soak in the sink to be washed later. Evie cut them each a slice of apple pie and the delight on Mer’s face made her smile too seeing him lick his lips as his grin continued to grow. Catching that flash of his tongue was like a bolt of hot lightning striking her without warning; a blush rose so quickly on her cheeks Evie had to look away to keep the blunder a secret. Thankfully, the pie was more than enough to hold Merriell’s attention away from her.

“Mmmm… Almost looks too good to eat,” he said ogling the desert in front of him.

When Evie chanced a look his way, the expression on his face caused her to chuckle, “‘oughta be, I made one for my pa every year for his birthday since I was nine. It’s probably the only thing I have any confidence in making in the kitchen.”

“Coulda fooled me,” Mer quipped as he loaded his fork with as much pie as he could.

The moment he took a bite, his brows creased, and eyes closed as he chewed painfully slow. Those few seconds were like agony. Evie’s heart was pounding in her chest with so much anticipation she feared she might faint as she watched him sample the only thing she could actually make that was worth a damn.

“Fuck me, if that ain’t the best apple pie I’ve evah had the pleasure of tasting.”

A somewhat nervous, but relieved chuckle sounded in the back of Evelyn’s throat as she watched Merriell shovel a larger bite of pie into his mouth.

“Mmm… Yep. God damn delightful.”

“Stop,” Evie said sheepishly, suddenly afraid he was overselling his reaction to keep from hurting her feelings.

“No,” he wiped his mouth and leaned across the table to meet her gaze with a sincere expression that stole away all the doubt writhing in her stomach.

“I mean it. If I wasn’t so full of pasta, I’d eat that whole damn pie right now.”

“Well,” Evie grinned softly, trying not to let her blush color her cheeks too obviously. “Thank you. And you’re welcome to take the rest of it when you go.”

Excitement took form on his face with a smirk that was sweet but roguish all at once—a sort of debonair charm that amplified his magnetism—as if his bright eyes dark curls and razor-sharp jaw did not make him alluring enough already. Again she had to look away knowing the pink in her cheeks would be too strong to combat.

“Imma have ta take ya up on that offah. An’ I’ll be thinkin’ ‘bout you every time I cut me a slice.”

That blush was unstoppable; her heart was suddenly so smitten, it felt as though butterflies were fluttering merrily in her stomach. She felt weightless with warmth and hope swelling in her bosom, fearing any slight breeze would carry her off. It was ridiculous how at ease Evie felt sitting there eating pie with a complete stranger. The conversation had been easy all night; even when it had delved into less savory topics he still made her feel comfortable. Evelyn had forgotten what it was like to be in the company of a man who wasn’t easy to anger, who was genuine and kind and wanted only to live in the moment.

For a time the whimsy of the atmosphere faded as the warmth in her heart ached, suddenly missing her brother James and Cynthia's brother Charlie. Both of them were good men, kind and genuine—like Merriell—but they had been swallowed by the rages of war. Brave young men were lost forever, while a man like Jonny Doyle was still alive How was that fair?

No matter how pleasant her thoughts could be, they always fell back to the grief that plagued her. She sighed, deeply, pushing those intrusive memories back into the depths of her mind so she could find joy once more in the moment with a kind stranger.

When Merrill finished his plate he made a beeline for the sink full of soaking dishes.

“Oh, no,” she said jumping to her feet. “I can do those.”

Merriell, however, shook his head. “Uh-uh, you did the cookin’, I can do the cleanin’.”

When Evie tried to argue, Mer simply shook his head, his grin amused but determined as he kept scrubbing the dirty dishes.

“Let me help at least,” she suggested. “I’ll dry and put them away.”

Before he could protest, she snatched the freshly rinsed dish from his hand and began wiping away the droplets of water clinging to the porcelain surface, throwing him a smug smirk that made him chuckle.

“Alright,“ he smirked.

She watched him for a moment not really paying attention to her task as he scrubbed the old plates clean, overcome with a blissful vision of peaceful domesticity. It made her stomach fill to the brim with whimsy and her heart was fluttering again; had this stranger bewitched her already? Or did what she feel bubbling lightly in her gut like a seltzer stem from an end to her loneliness—even if it was only for a few hours? Evelyn didn’t know. Nevertheless, she was intrigued with a profound feeling and she wanted to dwell in it for as long as she could.

Occasionally as he would hand a freshly washed dish her way, his calloused fingertips would brush against her skin, igniting a spark she didn’t know how to react to. It was more than an amicable tingle racing from the tips of her fingers right to her heart. And each time they touched, Merriell would cast her a gentle smile that held nothing more than his inherent charm and magnetism. She wondered if he felt it too, or if her need for companionship was playing a dirty trick on her.

When the dishes were all back in their usual places—the night drawing to a close—Evelyn realized she was not ready to say farewell to her Beautiful Stranger. She longed to stay up all night just chatting with him, she did not care about what, Evelyn only wanted to stay encompassed a while longer in the blissful warmth he brought into her life. Once he was gone, all she would be able to do was stay up and ponder the significance of those little touches and the sparks they brought.

Thankfully, Merriell lingered on the old rickety porch, one hand in his pocket, the other holding onto his plate of leftover pie, seeming to stall their inevitable departure.

“Well,” he said with a grin. “Thank you for invitin’ a stranger ovah for dinna.” He paused, glancing at the leftover pie in his hand. “Can’t recall ever having a better plate of pasta, an’ nothin’ evah gonna beat this pie.”

Evie quickly looked at her feet to hide another blush.

“It was the least I could do,” she told him before looking back to meet his eyes. “You have no idea how much of a savior you were this afternoon…”

A glint of concern flashed in his eye, his brows beginning to crease as his unspoken question lingered between them.

She thought about telling him—telling him how Jonny was nothing more than a throne in her side, and how much she cherished Merriells company—but Mer was still a stranger. It wasn’t right to unload so much onto someone she’d only known for a few hours.

Before Mer could offer any reply, the sound of screeching tires stole all their focus as an old wagon pulled along the curb—narrowly missing a collision with the mailbox. The rowdy passengers were laughing and shouting loud enough even before the door opened to let Jonny stumble out. He staggered on drunk feet and screamed a handful of profanities to his buddies in the car which made them all roar with laughter.

It was only after the wagon full of hooligans pulled away that Jonny began to stagger towards the house, and it was exactly then that Evie’s fluttering heart became consumed with panic.

She and Mer watched him cross the yard, unseen, both frozen: Evie in fear and Merriell in confusion. Jonny’s intoxication level inhibited him from taking notice of them until he was at the base of the steps leading onto the porch. Immediately, his eyes narrowed and he frowned.

“Who the hell are you?”

“Jonny, this is Mr. Merriell Shelton,” Evie said quickly, willing her voice not to shake.

The Doyle’s were not known for their hospitality, nor were they known to trust most people. Especially strangers.

“He helped me this afternoon with a bit of trouble I was having,” she explained vaguely, hoping to thwart any more suspicion. “I made him dinner to say thank you—he’s just about to leave.”

Jonny eyed Merriell, seizing him up as best he could through drunken lenses. Mer stood his ground, eyeing him back with a subtle intensity that never so much as cracked under Jonny’s scrutiny.

Finally, being the better man, Mer held out his hand in a friendly manner, “nice ta meet ya.”

Jonny cast a prolonged glare at Merriell's open hand, his brows furrowed and part of his lip hiked up in a sort of snarl. Instead of returning the kind gesture, Jonny made a show of spitting at his feet before tossing his heavy leer at Evelyn.

"Evie, do not invite any more strangers into my house. I don't care if they are dying." He shoved past them both, purposely bumping Mer's shoulder (most likely in hopes to start something) muttering as he went: "I don't trust any of these filthy southerners."

Shock sent Evie's jaw slack; this time the redness in her cheeks was a symptom of embarrassment instead of infatuation. She should have known Jonny would say something rude and uncouth. Without another thought, she grabbed Mer by his sleeve and pulled him across the lawn until they stood next to his truck parked along the curb.

"I am so sorry about him," she said, crossing her arms and glaring at Jonny's house, ashamed and angry.

Mer shrugged as he placed his partially eaten pie in the passenger seat through the open window before fixing his hands in his front pockets.

"Ya boyfriend's a bit of an asshole."

"He is not my boyfriend," Evie corrected vehemently. "I don't think he knows that though. I'm just staying here until I can figure some things out."

Merriell was quiet a moment, nodding silently. It seemed as though he was taking his time processing the whole situation. There was compassion on his face and behind his eyes, but it was guarded somehow. Evie caught it though and she was grateful when he didn't ask the questions plainly forming in his mind.

"Well," he said finally, his tone light as one corner of his mouth quirked into a grin. "Since he ain't ya othah half, I feel more inclined ta leave ya with this…"

Gently, Merriell caressed her upper arm as he leaned forward to plant a tender kiss on her cheek. He let his lips linger slightly longer than was common for such an act, that all at once wove a new hopefulness into her heart.

"Dinna was swell," he added as he pulled away, his smile somehow more charming than it had been all night. "Hope I see ya again, Evie."

"Me too," she murmured.

Evie watched as he got in his truck to leave, her hand held to the cheek he'd graced with his kiss. And when he drove away, it took everything inside of her to keep from running after him.

[floreleine]

That GM prequel fic - part 3: Florence's POV

Part 1 (Madeleine, <1k, G)

Part 2 (Scarlet, 1k, G)

Ships: Floreleine & ScarletMay

Hiding the entire fic under the readmore this time for Part 1+2 spoiler reasons! This one's also rated G (or T if we're going for swear words and alcohol consumption I guess), a little over 1k words.

There will be at least 1 more part of this, and then I might post a revised and possibly longer version to ao3.

Bc idk where to put this in the fic itself yet, quick setting overview: they're not sitting around a table but instead Florence and Madeleine are sitting on a small couch, Scarlet is next to Madeleine on a wobbly kitchen chair and Anna May is sitting opposite them on a barstool at the kitchen aisle.

That night, the librarians plus Scarlet (and minus Baby, who is sleeping in the next room under a security camera that both Madeleine and Scarlet insist on checking every other minute) are sitting in the kitchen together for dinner and a drink.

Or five drinks in Anna May's case, as she downs the first one in one go and hasn't let go of the Whiskey bottle since. Florence can't blame her, really - if Madeleine had run off with some guy, no matter how early in their relationship, only to return a year later with tears and a baby... She has no idea what she'd be doing right now.

Madeleine and Scarlet are talking about the child right now, sharing child-caring advice - Florence is fairly certain that Madeleine has her knowledge from books and only from books, but she seems to have picked out sound advice from all that she has read at least - and Florence has to smile fondly at how Madeleine is glowing at the prospect of having a child in the library.

Scarlet is careful in her replies, not wanting to commit to anything, her eyes shifting back to Anna May whenever she doesn't think that the others are looking.

'She's afraid she'll kick her out after all,' Florence thinks with a quiet sigh. 'Can't blame her, Anna knows how to hold a grudge, and with how she is drinking right now... It isn't her friendliest appearance'.

Still, she thinks that they will work it out. They better. It's been a while since she has seen Anna May have an emotional reaction to just about anything, and it can't be healthy to keep it all locked inside, pushing all chances of happiness away.

Madeleine must have heard her sigh, and she leans back against Florence's side. Florence squeezes her arm, content to have her by her side, glad that they, at least, don't have to worry about their relationship status. Being with Madeleine always relaxes her, makes her feel like everything is alright in the world.

Madeleine presses a kiss to her chin and, after checking that both Scarlet and Anna May are looking down at their glasses, nods in the direction of the door. 'Should we give those two some privacy?'

Florence tilts her head for a moment to consider, then shakes her head, nodding at Anna May, and Madeleine winces a little. Yes, Anna is barely keeping it together now, who knows what she may say or rather shout if they left them alone... Anna May should get a chance to cool down, before she ends up saying something she doesn't mean and would regret.

As if on cue, Anna May throws back the rest of the Whiskey in her glass in one gulp and loudly brings it down on the kitchen counter as if to dispel the silence that has fallen.

"Fuck."

Madeleine looks like she wants to remind her about cursing with children in the house again, but Florence squeezes her arm to stop her. They don't need to irritate Anna May even more right now.

"I'm sorry," Scarlet says immediately. Florence doesn't think that she is apologizing for anything in particular, just for the situation in general, for present and past.

Anna May gets up and turns around, putting her glass in the sink and turning on the water, but then just leaning against it with her hands holding onto the metal edge and her knuckles turning white.

Florence is trying to decide whether to step in or not when Scarlet speaks up again in a shaky voice. "I can - I can leave, I don't have to -" she gets up, clearly ready to bolt, and Anna May flinches, but she doesn't turn back around.

"No-one's" leaving, Florence says at the same time as Madeleine says "No, don't be silly!" They share a smile, and then Madeleine squeezes her hand before getting up and walking over to Madeleine. "Come on, let me show you everything. You can sleep in the room with Samantha, me and Florence aren't really using it much anyway."

Florence watches them go with a soft smile. Madeleine always knows what to do, what to say. She's so grateful to have her.

Once the other two have left, Florence goes up to Anna May and slams the still-running tap down, making her jump.

"Stop wasting water and get a hold of yourself, Anna!"

Anna May whirls around, clearly ready to fight, but Florence just throws her a deadpan look and she deflates.

"Fuck, I don't know what to do." She slurs her words a little, but not as much as Florence would have expected after that much alcohol.

"Right now? You are going to drink some water so you will not be terribly hungover tomorrow. And tomorrow, you have got to think about whether you want that woman and her kid to stick around or not."

Anna May flinches a little, but when Florence sighs and pours her a glass of water, she takes it without protest and gulps most of it down in one go.

"I dun' want her to leave," she then murmurs, staring down at the glass in her hands. "She left me once, I don't want her to leave me again."

Florence sighs and pulls her into a hug. "Bloody hell, Anna, why did you never say anything? You must have been fucking heartbroken, and all you told us was that you gave dating one last chance."

Anna May half-laughs, half-sobs and clings to Florence like a lifeline. "Don't know. Didn't want to be weak. Didn't want it to be real."

"Oh, Anna," Florence sighs and squeezes her tightly. Then she takes a step back and fixes her with a hard look. "You've got to tell her that, you know that, Anna May? She is going to run away just to give you space while you are not talking to her because you're afraid she might run anyway."

Anna May sighs and grimaces a little, but nods. "I - tomorrow. I'll tell her tomorrow, before I can chicken out." she sighs. "I mean, it's not like I know whether she'd want to - whether she still-" she sighs. "She only left me because he didn't want to share, but maybe by now she's just over me."

Florence shrugs. "I can't look in her head, Anna, but from the way she looks at you... I think you guys will figure it out."

Anna May nods uncertainty, then frowns again. "And you'd be fine with it, if she's staying here... Indefinitely? I mean, she has a - kid -" she adds with a somewhat perplexed expression on her face, making Florence laugh. She's half of a mind to say 'congrats, you're a step-mom!' but stops herself at the last second. There will be time for that kind of joke when the peace between Anna May and that Scarlet isn't quite so fragile anymore. "Exactly," she instead replies. "So you know Madeleine will be mad at you forever if you let them get away."

Anna May snorts. "She did seem quite... taken by the kid."

Florence nods, frowning a little herself now. "She's always wanted kids, she just accepted that it isn't sensible in our line of work, and that I am not interested in them anyway. Seeing her with Samantha, now I'm wondering..."

"You did nothing wrong," Anna May reassures her. "And fuck, can you imagine having two kids around? It will be bad enough, trying to protect the one from everybody."

Florence sighs and nods. "I suppose. But I'm sure we'll manage. ...are you going to be alright now, or do I have to hide the Whiskey?"

"I'm not a drunk," Anna May replies a little offended, and Florence grins.

"I know you're not, but you sure made a great impression of one earlier!"

Anna May groans, and then she turns back to the counter to refill her waterglass. "Fuck, I'll be so dead tomorrow."

"Sleep in, then. Me 'n Madeleine will make sure Scarlet won't take off before you're awake and had your talk with her."

Anna May nods sharply. Florence smiles and squeezes her arm. "Well, get some sleep. I'll check on Scarlet and Madeleine."

~

Anna May nods again, and Florence sees her lean back against the counter with a deep sigh while she is leaving the kitchen. She really hopes that Anna May will take her advice to heart. Some heartbreak can't be avoided- but the one between her and Scarlet doesn't seem quite so inevitable.

Part 4

@phoenixhalliwell @thesevenwondersofawitch another update, hope you liked it!

If anyone else wants to be tagged for this series, lmk! Not tagging my usual GM tag list in every fic update as that would just be spammy.

Taking prompts!

[starkerparkerpony]

You're so very precious my little darling Pt.1

This was supposed to be my first attempt at writing smut but my prudish tendencies are incapable of doing it without proper build up.

Relevant info- aged up starker, peter is 28, tony is 46. This is mostly just light flirting and some coarse language. 1st of 3 parts. This is Tony and Peter's first meeting, Thanos has already been dealt with, Tony doesn't know that Peter is Spiderman... yet.

Do tell if you would like to be tagged in future updates.

Tony first met the smug little prick who ran 'park.er' at TechCrunch. He had these ridiculous brown curls that looked entirely way too soft, obnoxiously brown eyes that were way too big and a devastatingly disarming smile... with dimples. It was all too much and Tony didn't care for the way everyone seemed to be swooning at him at all.

They were on the same panel, discussing their respective new smartphones which were being lauded as "innovative & groundbreaking". Tony had questions about whether this inexperienced newbie's product was at the same level as his, but he actually respected the work the kid had managed to get done in the varied fields of genetics, textiles and adhesives (of all things) so he kept his silence.

"Starkfone is technically the first time that Stark tech is being retailed directly to the general public and there has been some criticism about the prices, or rather how high they are, what do you have to say for yourself Tony?" the moderator guy asked.

"Well, what has to be kept in mind is that unlike some other smartphone brands, we are manufacturing within these great United States of America because if I'm going to conquer the market then I'll bring the jobs too" Tony winked at the audience as they applauded "So yeah, prices are a bit higher but no one can deny that you get more bang for your buck. Especially when the Stark name is involved."

Tony had actually fought tooth and nail to get the prices lowered and they would be in the future, but yeah, besides the intelli-crops this was the first time that the general public was the customers rather than the government or other companies, they still had some stuff to figure out but Tony gave the audience his signature smirk and they cheered for him anyway.

Parker just looked on in amusement.

"Peter you're manufacturing the Gizmo in the US too right? Yet your product is 30% cheaper... How'd you pull that off?" The moderator asked the kid.

"Ah... after having spent like ten minutes in Mr. Stark's company, I'm coming to the realization that maybe my low pricing is a result of my low self esteem." The boy chuckled, the crowd laughed with him. Tony played along and shrugged.

"No but seriously... I have absolutely no problem being the Android to Mr. Stark's Apple" The kid grinned cheekily at the crowd and the audience ate it up. He definitely knew what he was doing.

And Tony hadn't missed the fact that the kid compared his tech to Apple.

"Are you calling my tech a vanity product kid?" Tony challenged, playful smile firmly in place.

The crowd went "Ooooohhhh" anyway.

"Oh no, I'm sure it's a great phone Mr. Stark! I just have no way of knowing for certain, you know... cuz' even I can't afford it" The kid shrugged smugly as he got another huge laugh from the audience.

******************************************************

Tony rarely had a quiet moment at events like this but he had managed to get away to an empty corner for a breather and was distracted by his phone when he felt a hand gently rest at the small of his back.

The Parker kid came around to stand in front of him, he was almost a head taller than Tony now that he was close up. The boy had moved his hand but Tony could still feel the tingles from the initial touch.

Trouble.

"Mr. Stark I hope I didn't offend you earlier... I was very nervous, this is my first time here and my friend Michelle told me that compared to you, I have the 'personality of a wet sock'. So, I guess I was just trying to make a good first impression" the kid caught himself from babbling more and it pissed Tony off, how sincere he sounded.

What also pissed Tony off was the fact that the boy wasn't just taller than Tony but also very muscular too, a twunk if there ever was one.

He was definitely only pissed at him and not attracted to him at all.

"Don't worry about it Parker I can take it... you did good today, great first impression, consider me blown away" Tony assured him with a friendly smile "And please call me Tony."

"Only if you call me Peter."

"You got it Pete." He said, trying to irritate the boy a little but didn't get much other than a little eye twitch.

"Was I interrupting something?" Peter asked

"Nope, I was just replying to some texts."

"Well, if you're free, I'd love to pick your brains about this AI project I've been working on and maybe buy you dinner?" Those eyes and dimples were in full effect, sincerety shining through... so Tony had a hard time saying no to the kid.

He definitely didn't just wanna spend time with an attractive, intelligent man... Tony was being generous and helping out the not-so-little guy.

By the end of the of the evening, filled with charming and intelligent conversation, he had to concede that the Parker kid wasn't all that bad.

******************************************************

The second time Tony met Peter Parker was almost three months later and he was at a low point.

Bruce and Rhodey were away at work, Happy was with Pepper and Pepper was... married.

And even though things were better after the Thanos episode, they weren't all that good.

And Tony was spiralling... rather publicly.

It's just that it had been a while since he his last encounter with alcohol and so the open bar at the Mayor's gala hit him like a truck. All while being surrounded by cameras and reporters.

Tony was about to respond to the asshole who kept asking him about Steve when he felt a hand rest at the small of his back and deftly start to guide him away from the bar and the cameras.

"Long time no see little darling" Peter Parker was looking down on him with those eyes and that face... God he's obnoxiously good looking.

Speaking of obnoxious "Did you just call me little darling?" asked Tony, justifiably indignant.

"Wow you really are drunk" Parker chuckled.

God has his voice always been this deep and husky...?

"That's not what I asked" Tony insisted

"Did you want me to call you little darling?" asked Peter, eyes twinkling with mischief.

"Ugh- Where are you taking me by the way?" He's definitely still just as irritating as last time.

"Home"

Huh... hooking up with a business rival was not what Tony had planned for the evening but it was better than being miserable and alone, which was in fact the plan, so he went along with it.

Parker stopped by a Burger King drive through on the way which only made him all the more attractive to him.

They were awkward in the elevator of the Stark Tower and the boy still hadn't made a move which was a little weird.

What wasn't weird was Parkers arm casually draped around his waist.

Once they were in his quarters living room area and Peter seemed like he was starting to leave, it became evident to Tony that the kid had literally just meant dropping him home.

He was a little disappointed but he wasn't gonna say anything... until Parker opened his smart mouth.

"Well, I'll see you around little darling" He snickered

And Tony had intended to just give him a light shove, but the back of Parker's knee hit the couch and Tony stumbled too and somehow they ended up with Peter on the couch and Tony in his lap, straddling him.

"Gotta' say... when I imagined Iron Man making a move on me, I expected something a little more advanced than the 'stumble straddle'" the kid was playing it cool but Tony could see his blush.

So he responded with "You imagined me making a move on you?"

"Oh repeatedly... it has been my favorite fantasy since I was like 15" The kid had the gall to wink at him.

"Well sorry for letting you down kid... now are you gonna fuck me or not?" There was a corner of Tony's mind that was worried that he was coming off too desperate but Parker was hot and Tony was drunk and horny so he couldn't care less about appearances.

"Your ability to call me a kid and then ask me to fuck you in the same sentence would be worrying if I wasn't almost thirty... speaking of fucking you, that was my initial plan but you're drunk and I don't wanna take advantage of my little darling..." Peter was letting him down but he had a very fond smile on his face... it made Tony all warm inside. The pet name was growing on him too... uh oh.

What was also contributing to his warmth were Peter's, rather large, hands. Resting on his waist and thigh.

"Maybe I want you to take advantage of me..."

"Oh there's no 'maybe' about it... you have a semi just by sitting on my lap, this is as embarrassing for you as it is flattering for me..."

God he was a smug little prick, Tony loved it.

~To be continued~

[texasthegreatdestroyer]

So, I don't usually do these, because I always felt that shipping oc's with characters from other fan works was socially frowned upon, but since I've been seeing a few of these around, I'll give it a shot. My OC shipped with Auron.

Auron x Texas.

Yes, Auron's current partner in crime, rather he'd liked to admit it or not. Their meeting was rather... comedic. Auron didn't really notice his co worker until he accidentally rested the elbow of his sheifed arm on her head. She was very short, Her height being 4'8. He looked down to find a short, albino girl with wolf ears, and a tail. The whole package. Everything else looked human, she just had a few furry parts to her. Another key thing about her is that she always came off as the, "edgy" type, for her preference in black lipstick, and eyeliner. When he did get to know her, Auron has always found her annoyingly chipper, and overly friendly. The two attended a funeral together once, and she wouldn't stop smiling. Seriously. How does someone smile that much at a funeral??? Auron asked her about it.

Her response: Usually when people die, they don't want people to mourn over them, there for I choose not to mourn.

She wasn't entirely wrong, speaking from his own experiences, however it wasn't exactly the majority opinion, as Auron had to keep the wife of the dead man from trying to punch Tex in the face. Tex was almost always very clingy in the irritating and physical sense. She liked hugging a lot. She would hug Auron everytime she'd see him, and it usually would last 5 minutes before he would have to eventually pull her off. As time went on, and they grew closer, Auron started to notice that something was very wrong with Texas. Her extremely chipper personality was used to hide some dark, twisted thoughts, feelings, and even experiences. He came to this realization when he went to visit her one night, and she didn't answer her door. She lived in a dormitory like area, where there was the bedroom, and then a small room next to it that was a kitchen, and the bathroom being against the the smaller side of the rectangular kitchen. It was a nice little place for someone who likes living alone, but it had its downsides, like paper thin walls. You could hear the inhabitants, and they most likely can hear you as well. After a minute or two of waiting, just as he turned to leave, Auron was startled by the sound of soft, female sobbing, coming from Tex's dorm. He knew for a fact that if Tex was crying, which he had never actually seen her do, something was horribly wrong. He immediately opened the door to find a mess waiting for him. Texas sat their curled up in a ball, hands grabbing at her hair and pulling, make up smeared, wrists bleeding from self inflicted bites. Scattered around her were drawings of morbid, violent, and just horrid depictions, along with words scribbled over them along the lines of, "Worthless", "Dead", "No Future", "I'm nothing." A common sign of depression. If there was one thing Auron always knew about Tex is that she had a talent for art. She did this thing that she called a web comic. Auron, not really being kept up in technology, never really knowing what it was, let alone reading it, thought nothing of it, but he had seen her art, and it was phenomenal. It really opened his eyes to what she truly was when he saw that beauty and talent turned into something so ugly and self degrading. When Tex finally noticed him, her reaction was just to try to hide herself in the comfort of her knees. Auron began snooping around, and grabbing rags, then pried Tex's hands from her head, and wrapped her wrist.

Auron: Moron. What were you thinking???

Texas: ...

Auron pulled her into an embrace, still holding the rags to her wrist.

Auron: Would you like to talk about why you bit yourself up like this? Or the sketches for that matter?

Texas: I-I don't know what to do! My art! My comic! I- the deadline to get chapter 9 out is tomorrow, and I thought I could just push through it in a day with enough effort, but I don't even have content! I don't have a script! I have no story, no art for chapter 9! I'm a fuck up! I'm stupid! I'm nothing! I-... I'm so sorry... you shouldn't have had to see me like this...

Auron: It's fine. You're human after all. I expect you to have emotions, breaking points. As for your problems. Tex, the comic is just a for fun thing, right?

Texas: Yeah...

Auron: Great. Take some time off until you get over your writer's block. The timely fashion of updates doesn't matter, the quality does. If you can't produce anything good, then step back and take a break. It's obvious that it's affecting your mental health. This will make you hate what you do, so step back from it. Take a break.

Texas: You're right, I've just... meh.

Auron: Don't be afraid to show your emotions around me. It shows me that you are human.

That night, Auron didn't leave Tex's side, mainly out of fear for what she might do when she's alone. This opened a pathway for future sleep overs. Auron didn't share his bed with many, but with Tex, it had become routine, and he didn't mind. He actually liked the cuddles. A few months later, he receives a message from Tex. That night, she wasn't with him, she decided to stay at her place to do some cleaning.

Message received at 1:23 am:

Texas: Hey. Are you awake?

Auron: I wasn't until you woke me. -_-

Texas: Oh sorry. I forgot that your ringtone is up all the way usually... I'm sorry. XD

Auron: This better be important if it warrants you texting me at one in the morning...

Texas:...

Auron: It's not that important, is it?

Texas: ... No comment...

Auron: Tex...

Texas: I'll leave you alone then.

Auron: Why do you do this!? Spit it out! I'm already awake!

Texas: Are you sure? It can wait until tomorrow.

Auron: Tex. Spit. It. Out...

Texas: I can't! You're making me nervous!XI

Auron: Why would you be nervous?

Texas: Because it's kinda personal...

Auron: Okay. Pretend I'm not here. Say what you have to say.

Texas: ... that is so unaffective when I'm staring directly at that message...

Auron: Point taken. Just tell me.

Texas: Okaaaaay! ...

The icon at the bottom that says that Tex is typing stays that way for 5 minutes.

Auron: So?

Texas: Okay. Here goes nothing. And when I say that, I mean here goes everything I could possibly hold dear in my life. XD

Auron: Are you going to say what I think you're going to say?

Texas: I would really really really REALLY like to punch you in the face!

Auron: Okay, that's not where I thought you were going with this.

Texas: With my face, gently... I Love you! You are amazing, and wise, and sweet, even when you hide it under your protective layers! I simply love you. End of story. And I was wondering if you would allow me to take you out to dinner! I'm going to go cry now, because I feel like I'm dying XD

Auron: I stand corrected...

Auron: O//_//O...

Auron: No.

Texas: No?

Auron: No.

Texas: Okay then... What? No reason why? Like I'm cool with it, if you don't like me like that, but still. At least give me a reason...

Auron: Okay. I'll tell you exactly why. Yeah. I like you. I think you're cute. However, I don't appreciate you waking me up at 1 in the morning to text me with a confession. You want a relationship? Fine, but take initiative and tell me to my face. Quit being a coward. -_-

Texas: Ouch. My feel goods. Anyways, I guess I'll talk to you tomorrow man. Sorry about this...

Auron: It's fine :) Sleep well, Tex.

Texas: You too bro <3

After Auron and Tex finish messaging each other, Auron goes back to sleep. The next day is pretty amusing. Auron waits for his partner. Half expecting she hopes to forget about the previous night. Auron hears running behind him, and turns to find Tex in a suit and tie running up to hi., screaming, "I love you, you sexy, sexy son of a gun!" She knocks his feet out from under him, and steals a very, very passionate kiss, but soon afterwards, causing Auron and Tex both to fall over to the ground. Because her tiny frame is too much for his bigger, heavier frame. Luckily Texas's arm was under Auron's head when they fell, so no brain damage was caused to the older male. Texas turns to Auron, half expected to be heated, and she wasn't wrong, just heated in a different sense. Auron's face was bright red, slight tears to his eyes, he bursts out laughing, black lipstick smeared on his lips.

Texas: What? You told me to take initiative!

His laughter fades to a light chuckle, and then he stops.

Auron: Wow. That was... cheesy.

Texas: Also clearly failed...

Auron: (Still catching his breath.) No it didn't.

Texas: So it actually worked!?!? YAY!

Auron: Just don't do that again. You took us both out in the process.

Auron pulls Tex into his lap, and the two share a proper kiss.

Auron: See. That in of it's self is enough for me.

Texas: Yeah, but it wouldn't be a confession from me if it wasn't stupidly cheesy and didn't make you smile.

Auron: It's missing something though.

Texas: And that is?

Auron: The amazing pick up line from last night.

Texas: Ah yes, you have good taste, my kind, gentle sir. I would really.

Auron: Yes?

Texas: Really.

Auron: Go on.

Texas: Really.

Auron:...

Texas: Really!

Auron: Hopefully this is the last, "Really."

Texas: Like to punch you in the face. With my face gently, romantically, and in other places besides your face.

Auron: Okay. Okay. Calm down. We haven't even had dinner yet...

Texas: Exactly. Dinner.

Auron is very flustered at his now girlfriend's sense of humor. Safe to say, they had a very romantic evening together. ;3

This is my contribution to OC x Fan work Characters. Hope you enjoyed!