#how to fix black screen after boot

[modsgamer77]

How to fix crash screen problem in resident evil village..................

[simpforboys]

surprise! (2)

drew starkey x fem!singer!reader

summary: reader and drew shoot the ‘perfume’ music video!

warnings: fluff, swearing, sexual themes but no real smut, kisses

‘perfume’ by del water gap

part one , part three, part four

It was bright and early on a Wednesday in December.

You had been up since six am to be on set, get costumes all organized, makeup done, hair done, and just make sure your vision was really coming along how you wanted it to.

After all, 'Perfume' was a big deal to you, now even more so due to the fact that your dream man was going to be your on-screen lover.

When Drew finally showed up at eight am, almost exactly on the dot, he was a little disorganized due to not getting as much sleep as he should have the night before.

You were talking to the director, clearly deep in the discussion as you explained your vision as best as your chaotic brain could.

"Drew is here," your manager came walking over.

Fuck.

You looked over, seeing Drew standing awkwardly by the trailers as he looked around at the film location.

It was pronounced you had chosen to do more of a countryside feel, the old farmhouse that had people constantly going in and out of it in order to set up for later scenes.

The location was beautiful, though. Grass, sand, hills, and for the actual land, it was quiet.

"Hey, good morning."

You walked over to Drew, trying to hide your pounding heart and the bags under your eyes (because, obviously, you hadn't been able to sleep the night before).

"Good morning." Drew looked at you, a small smile on his tired face.

"Are you hungry? We have breakfast and coffee over here," you guided Drew over to the food station, hands shaking with nervousness.

"Coffee sounds good, yeah." Drew murmurs, trying not to stare at you in your outfit.

You had chosen to wear blue overalls with a black long-sleeve shirt, and brown cowboy boots to fit into the countryside vibe you were going for.

"Sorry, I barely slept last night."

Drew shook his head, a small smile on his face.

"No, you're good. You just... look good."

Your eyes widened slightly at his compliment, your face feeling hot. God, why did he have to be fucking sweet?

"I don't normally wear this shit," you tried to deflect off of it and make a joke.

Drew smiled, shaking his head softly as he took a sip of the hot coffee.

"I'm assuming we're going to be cowboys?" He teased.

You shrug, a small smirk curling onto your lips.

"I couldn't pass up the opportunity to give everyone cowboy Drew." You joked back, instantly feeling a little embarrassed.

Being hyperaware and anxious was absolutely not helping anything about any and all interactions with him.

"Okay, so you're welcome to help yourself to anything. I have to film some solo shots, but probably in around thirty to forty-five minutes, the costume lady will come to get you."

You spoke, avoiding looking at him.

Drew hummed, watching you get all nervous and embarrassed. As much as he wanted to reassure you that you were fine, he couldn't deny how amusing it was to see you get all shy around him.

"Thank you," he murmured.

While you went off to shoot some solo stuff, Drew was in the trailer as the ladies gave him some makeup and fixed his short hair.

You wanted him to wear blue jeans, cowboy boots, and a plain white shirt that had some dirt on it to make the appearance that he had been working outside.

By the time Drew was dismissed, you were finishing up filming. Staring at the footage that was just shot, your song playing in the background as you stood around the property or lip sung.

Glancing over and seeing Drew in the damn outfit you picked made your heart physically flutter.

He looked good.

You would definitely be feeding his fans (and yourself) content.

“How do I look?” He walked over to you, a small smirk on his face.

“Good… yeah, uh, good. Exactly how I envisioned.”

Why the fuck were you so nervous? Why the fuck was he so handsome and intimidating?

He hummed, wanting to tease you a little more before the director cut in.

“Okay, so you two are going to be sitting in the truck. Drew will be driving with Y/n in the passenger seat. When I say ‘go’, I want Drew to slowly reach over and hold her hand. Look at each other with soft, warm, loving eyes.”

The director says. The two of you nod in agreement, getting into the truck.

Drew placed his hands on the wheel as you looked out the window. The filming location was genuinely so pretty, and you were very pleased with your decision.

The camera man slid into the backseat with the big camera, making sure the angles would all be right.

“Okay, three, two, one… action!”

You continue to stare out the window as Drew drives the truck along the grassy pathway, ‘Perfume’ playing in the background.

And I'm picturing you right now, I'm thinking of you right now

You tried not to have your breath hitch when you felt his large, warm hand grab yours and intertwine your fingers.

Glancing over at him, your eyes met his gorgeous blue ones, a genuine look of affection filling your gaze, mirroring his.

But his was probably fake, he’s an actor after all.

Drew gave you a soft smile, which caused a small grin to curl onto your lips.

“And cut!”

‘Perfume’ cut off, but you were hyperaware of the way Drew didn’t immediately pull his hand from your’s.

In fact, you were the first to pull away, nearly shitting your pants at the way your hand tingled.

Drew cut the engine of the car, the director coming to the passenger side window as he leaned against it.

“That was really good, you could feel the tension in the gaze. For the next shot, we want Drew to get out of the car with Y/n to follow. Outside the car, start walking up towards the house, when Drew is going to place his hand on your waist and pull you towards him. Share a passionate kiss, and press her against the door.” The director said.

Oh. Oh. Oh.

“Sounds good,” Drew hums, glancing briefly at you.

You swallowed, trying to ignore the way your face felt warm as you nodded in agreement.

‘Perfume’ started playing in the background again, the next scene about to start.

“Okay… three, two, one… action!”

'Cause I wanna do all of the things, baby, I said I wanna do with you… 'Less this is a lie and I don't know myself like I thought…

Wait, this is a mess, I could be wrong, I could be so damn mistaken

Both you and Drew got out of the car, a sheepish smile on both of your faces as you start walking towards the house.

Your heart stammered in your chest when you both stepped onto the porch and his large hand snaked around your waist, tugging you firmly into him.

He dipped his head down, capturing your lips.

You were kissing Drew fucking Starkey.

Immediately, you both melted into the kiss. Your hands were on his jaw and the back of his neck, his other hand going to rest on your lower back, just on top of your ass.

Drew almost forgot where he was for a minute as he slipped his tongue into your warm mouth.

He pressed your back against the front door of the house, you pulling him down so his body is flush against yours.

Fuck.

You were both thinking it.

“And, cut!” The director called.

You were both so raptured into the kiss neither of you heard it immediately.

“Cut!” The director called again, trying to hide his snicker.

Drew slowly pulled his lips away from you, his hands sliding off your body, making you feel cold.

“Sorry,” he murmured. His blue eyes bore into yours.

“You two take five, we needa get the bedroom all ready for the next shot,” the director said.

You moved away from the door to sit on the front patio furniture of the house. Your lips were tingling, mind racing at the thought that you just made out with your celebrity crush.

Drew looked sheepish and a little embarrassed that he let himself get so into a kiss. It was definitely a first for him.

“You want a water or anything?” Drew asked you.

“Uh, yeah, sure. Thank you,” you swallowed. You were still feeling a little breathless from what just happened.

By the time Drew came back with your water, the director had also returned.

Both you and Drew followed the man into the back bedroom of the old farmhouse. It was bare, with the basic furniture of a wardrobe, bed, and nightstands.

You wanted it to be basic, you wanted it to add the detail into the story you were trying to convey.

"So, we're going to set the camera up right at this angle. Drew push Y/n back onto the bed and climb on top of her, still kissing. Only break the kiss so you can both pull your shirts off. Then we're going to cut it into a birds-eye view. Sound good for now?" The director hums.

Oh. Drew was going to see you in your bra.

You might have forgotten about that when you came up with ideas for the music video.

Drew nods, his eyes flickering over to yours, meeting your gaze before you both quickly look away. Why was he so nervous?

He had seen boobs, he had seen women in bras. Maybe it was the fact that he was going to see yours was driving him a little crazy, making him forget all about his professional side for a moment.

You unbuttoned your overalls at the top so it would be easier to pull your shirt off for the scene.

"Three, two, one... action!"

But I'm picturing you right now, I'm thinking of you right now, I'm picturing you right now

With nothing on, with nothing on but my perfume

The familiar beat of your song and lyrics came on, but you paid absolutely no attention to it when Drew kissed you again.

He flopped you back onto the bed, your body bouncing slightly. But neither of you dared to disconnect your lips, his tongue slipping in your mouth yet again.

A very small, faint whine left your throat when he pulled away to tug his shirt off. No fucking way you just did that.

Unbeknownst to you, the small whine made Drew's entire body go rigid. His mind was starting to drift into what you would sound like actually in bed.

You arched your back up, trying to remember that there was a giant camera on you both. You pulled your black long-sleeve up and over your head, eyes staring up at Drew.

The way his pupils dilated more, that gorgeous blue swirling into a deep sea color. Fuck. You were both ruined.

He immediately connected your lips back to his, both your minds a state of pure need. But before anything else could happen--

"Cut!"

The word "cut" was starting to become your least favorite thing in the entire world. Drew pulled back, still hovering over you.

You finally let your eyes drift down to his bare torso, seeing those abs for the first time in person. But he wasn't the only one.

He tried so hard not to look, to be a gentleman, to be professional. But he felt his gaze slip down to you lying there in your bra, his mouth growing a little wetter.

"Y/n, spread your legs and let Drew lay in between them. When we say action, Drew start thrusting your hips as if you two are having sex. We'll keep the birds-eye view so it gives off the appearance that you two actually are."

As the director gives his next instructions, a set designer fixes the sheet to rest around Drew's hips, covering up the fact that you are both still wearing pants.

All you and Drew could do was nod. It wasn't really safe to speak, not when the sexual tension and chemistry between you two was so high.

Drew had filmed sex scenes before, it was a part of his job. But fuck. You were driving him insane, and you were barely even speaking.

You spread your legs as Drew shifted closer to you, trying to look anywhere but at your chest and face.

"Three, two, one... action!"

Call me in the morning, beg me in the night, I'll be over safely if you need it anytime

I'm picturing you right now, with nothing on, with nothing on but my perfume

He had begun to softly move his hips, his mouth instinctively attaching to your jaw, kissing down to your neck. Your hands dug into his broad shoulders and back, trying desperately not to let out a real moan.

Your eyes were fluttered shut, legs tightening a little more around him. There was no real pleasure being shared, but both your bodies were on autopilot, as if you were actually having sex.

It was the hottest either of you had ever felt.

The day continued on, with both you and Drew filming more romantic scenes. It was very surreal that this was all pretend because, at some points, it felt real.

The last scene was finally shot and everyone cheered with applause, happy the hard work and long day is over.

You were changing out of your film clothes and back into the sweatpants and hoodie you wore to set at six am this morning.

Drew had also changed, putting on his jeans and jacket.

You were going around and sincerely thanking every single person for their contribution and hard work, the last person finally being Drew.

Your eyes locked onto each other, a small smile creeping onto both your faces.

"Thank you so much, Drew, seriously. I couldn't have done this without you," you told him.

Drew shrugged nonchalantly, but he seemed a little sheepish at your genuine words.

"No, thank you. I had a lot of fun today, you were a lot of fun to film with." Drew replies, a warm look in his gaze.

He pulled you into another hug, your face pressed into him, arms wrapped tightly around each other.

"I hope this isn't the last time you see me," Drew murmurs in your ear.

Goosebumps erupted all over your skin, the moment reeling in your mind as you thought about when he hugged you and murmured how much he loved your song on Jimmy Fallon.

"It won't be, I promise."

You finally pulled away, a little reluctantly. You didn't wanna scare him off by holding him for too long.

"I'll eventually send you photo stills and snippets to post for promotion, but I don't want you to feel like you have to post anything or a shit-ton of stuff. I know you're busy," you tell him.

Drew shook his head. "Nah, I'll post them. Promise."

You nodded softly, a little grin on your face.

"Alright, Y/n. I'll see you around," Drew hums.

You watched as he walked away, a warm feeling in your chest.

You had finally returned home after the long day. After showering, changing into pajamas, and feeding yourself, you slide into your warm bed.

Grabbing your phone from the nightstand, your heart jumped when you read one Instagram notification in particular.

@/drewstarkey has messaged you

You quickly opened the notification, a smile on your face.

Drew Starkey: Just wanted to thank you again for the opportunity today. Had more fun than I should have

Your User: Ofc!! Maybe when the music video drops we can celebrate together :3

Fuck. Your thumb pressed send before you could double-think that message.

Drew Starkey: I like the sound of that

Oh.

tags!!

@slut4you @sweetlike-sugarplum @snowtargaryen @fastlovela @christinechickiee @ahgrace6 @evermorx89 @loren8818181 @eddiemuns0nl0ver @sophiesmovingcastle5 @chimchimjiminie16 @amel1ee @reader1402 @tqd4455 @rxeae @caraxes-syrax @shrimpybbq @drewstarkeysbabe @rafeswhoooreee @meropeeonmee @rafeluvrr @marvelahsobx @raeven-marie43 @fallout-girl219 @brendazzlingg @10ava01 @secretsideofbree @drewstarrrkey @p0gue420 @gibson-g1rl @kiiyomei @spiderstyles04 @sexualparkour @vinaluvsu @domainexpandme @mariadu2 @toterry @taliawz @always-reading @angvl3tears @iloveoldermenn @aesthetic-lyss @lover-girl-estxx @cadhlabear

[samaraxmorgan]

Your Roommate Sukuna

“That Time The Heater Broke On Christmas”

Modern no curse AU, Sukuna X Reader

Synopsis: This housing crisis sure is no joke huh? Rent is just too expensive to live alone, so you put out a listing for a roommate and ended up living with none other than the tattooed bad boy Ryomen Sukuna! This is part of a series of drabbles and oneshots showing glimpses into you and Sukuna’s living situation!!

Contains: frenemies to lovers, tooth rotting fluff, mutual pinning

Word Count: 2.44k

Series Masterlist - My Full Masterlist

Christmas is always a hectic time of year, and after spending the last week in an utter state of chaos trying to get all of your friend’s and family’s gifts ordered and in the mail on time, cookies baked and hidden away from your ravenous roommate Sukuna who swears up and down that he doesn’t even like sweets but the ones you make just taste so much better, and staying up until midnight haphazardly taping in messily folded wrapping paper and scribbled “to and from” tags on countless presents, you were more than ready to flop onto your living room couch and pass out.

But you’re just not allowed to have nice things, it seems.

The apartment is freezing cold when you walk in the front door, cool air pinching your skin and the groan of annoyance escaping your throat leaving a puff of white air in its wake. Sukuna left shortly after you did this morning to spend the day with his brothers, and as you rush your way over to the thermostat to turn the heat back on you can’t even begin to fathom why he would bother turning the air off when you were both only gone for the day. Sure, the bills can get expensive, but he’s not seriously that broke… you hope.

But as you push the buttons on the thermostat and the little screen informs you that the air in fact is on, dread rushes through you. A quick call to the landlord ends exactly how you expected it to, sent to voicemail with a cheery little message mentioning that no one will be available until after the holidays.

You may as well just die in here, you think as you sit down on the couch. The cool leather is almost painfully cold, making you flinch when it hits your skin. Silently you contemplate going back to where you spent the whole day; even if there were tons of people and you ended up leaving early because you were dying for some peace, at least it was nice and warm there.

But you push that idea aside, getting back on the train would be a pain, you’d have to trek through the snow again on your way back to the station, you could come up with a million excuses but in the back of your mind there’s this little nagging feeling that you don’t want to admit is the real reason you would rather stay home. You haven’t seen Sukuna all day.

It’s stupid. You know it’s stupid, but you’ve been so busy and even though the two of you live together it feels like you haven’t been able to see him for almost the entire week. And even though you spent the whole day around people you love, you couldn’t wait to come back home to your dickhead roommate.

Obviously you’d rather die than admit that to him, already picturing that trademarked smirk plastered on his tattooed face, but you can’t deny that something about him is charming. He’s smug and sarcastic and cocky and annoying and- you could really go all day to be honest; but then he has those moments where he can take the air right out of your lungs. Sweet, kind little gestures where this big scary bad guy acts like a total gentleman and it makes your heart race.

You doubt you’ll ever understand how he has that hold over you.

The sound of the door creaking open is your only warning before Sukuna steps into the freezing apartment, pink bangs damp and disheveled falling over his forehead and snow clinging to his black leather boots. He shrugs off his coat with a fluid motion, tossing it onto the stair rail as he fixes you with a sharp grin, flashing his canines mischievously.

“Didn’t think you’d actually beat me back here,” he drawls, a sarcastic lilt in his tone, “Guess you couldn’t go a day without missing my charming personality.”

You roll your eyes, breath puffing out in a faint cloud as you speak, “Missed that loud mouth, you mean.”

“Cute.” Although the word is borderline dripping in sarcasm, you still manage to catch the way a smile subtly tugs at the corner of his lips.

“I don’t suppose you’re any good with fixing heaters?” You ask hopefully, Trying to suppress a shiver as you motion toward the uncooperative thermostat.

He raises a brow, kicking off his boots and stepping into the living room, “The fuck do I look like, an HVAC guy? Just call the landlord.”

“I did,” You flop back against the couch with a defeated thump, tossing an arm over your face, “No one can come out ’til tomorrow, holidays or whatever.”

Sukuna could literally hear the frustration in your voice as he plops down next to you on the cold leather couch, “Tragic.” His tone is teasing, but his crimson eyes linger on your shivering form; with an over dramatized huff puffing an icy cloud in the air he muses, “Guess you’ll freeze.”

You briskly rub your hands up and down your arms, a futile attempt to warm yourself up, “And you won't?”

He peers down at you, posture completely relaxed despite the icy air and an unimpressed frown on his face, “I don’t get cold.”

You can’t help but let out a snort at his audacity, “Yeah?” You prop yourself up on your elbows to grin up at him, “Same way you don’t get sick?”

He scoffs and rolls his eyes, letting his back sink into the cool leather cushions of the couch, “That was a fluke.”

“Such a big fat liar,” You tease, elbowing his arm. But the playful jab shifts into curiosity when you notice that his skin is actually warm against your frozen fingers. Without hesitation, you wrap your hand around his tattooed wrist, making him flinch and hiss dramatically

“Fucking christ-”

“You were actually serious?” You interrupt, scrambling upright to press your freezing hands into his arms.

“Yes, I was- fuck, stop touching me holy shit.” He swats your hands away, goosebumps forming on his skin, “How the hell have you not died of frostbite? You a fuckin’ reptile or some shit?”

“Are you a living space heater?” You scoot closer to him, grabbing at his forearms in a desperate attempt to warm yourself up.

“Quit grabbin’ me you fucking weirdo,” He stands abruptly, nearly having to yank his arm out of your desperate grip, rolling his eyes at the pitiful groan of disappointment that escapes your throat, “Just- give me a second, hold on.”

You watch pitifully as he jogs up the stairs, the already freezing cold room feeling so much colder without him sitting next to you, even in the mere seconds that he’s gone. It’s almost embarrassing how you came home early to see him, have missed him and his attitude so much, and then god forbid he walks away this cramped little apartment just feels empty. But within less than a minute you can hear his footsteps thumping down the wooden stairs, a large dark red comforter slung over his arm.

He can’t help but chuckle when he sees your eyes light up, gently shaking his head as he tosses the comforter over your head and watches you scramble to wrap yourself up in it, “How long were you home without considering a fuckin’ blanket?”

“Fuck off.” You mumble as you clutch the blanket in your shaking hands; it isn’t exactly warm, still cool to the touch from sitting on his cold bed, but it’s better than nothing. Shivers still run over your skin as you wrap your arms around yourself.

You can feel the cushions shift under Sukuna’s weight when he sits down on the couch. His eyes peer down to your shivering form laying up against his thigh, silently watching you for a moment as if he’s contemplating something. Without saying a word he squeezes up behind you, wedging himself behind you and pressing his chest against your back. His arm snakes over your torso, pulling you flush against him.

Your body grows stiff in surprise, a pink blush rushing to your cheeks, “What… are you doing?”

“What?” he mumbles, resting his chin on top of your head as if this was the most natural thing in the world, “Not allowed to do something nice? Quit complaining.”

You can hear that signature smirk in his voice even without seeing his face, but the warmth radiating from him is undeniable. His arm tightens around your waist to anchor you to him and you could swear that he had heat radiating off of his chest, flooding into your cold skin and seeping through the blanket to chase away the chill that so stubbornly clings to your skin.

Hopefully he can’t hear the way your heart is pounding.

And although you’re grateful for the comforter wrapped around you, you’re silently cursing it for putting a barrier between you and Sukuna. You need more, need him impossibly closer to you, to wrap yourself up in his embrace and tighten your arms around him. You squirm in his grasp to try and free your arms, and an empty cold immediately strikes you when he releases you within a millisecond, parting himself from you and shoving his back into the cushions of the couch.

“Shit, I’m-”

You unintentionally cut him off when you turn around to face him, slinging the deep red comforter over his tensed up body. From this angle you can see his face and he looks… surprised? For the briefest moment you could catch a look of panic in his eyes before he settled, eyes widened and his mouth dropped open into a small oh. As if he wasn’t the one who started this, but he’s silent as his apology is caught in his throat.

You tilt your head down and grip your fingers onto his waist, attempting to pull him back to you, “Why are you all the way over there? Come back.”

It takes him a moment, like he's trying to process what you'd said, before he shifts closer to press his body firmly against yours. You bury your head into the warmth of his chest where you can feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, and your thigh finds a comfortable space to slot between his legs. His arms wrap around you again, but this time he holds you closer like he's trying to keep you locked against him, caging you against his strong torso in a way that feels almost possessive.

But it's so nice, the protective hold in his arms feels so warm and comfortable; and not just because of the temperature difference. You'd be lying if you said you'd never imagined yourself wrapped up with him, but never in any of your guilty daydreams did it ever feel so intimate. You and Sukuna have never been quite this close to each other, usually sharing nothing more than passive aggressive elbow jabs while trying to share the bathroom sink in the mornings, or maybe the occasional moment where he'll grab your hand in his when he sees you're about to trip and his touch lingers just a little too long.

But now you’re wrapped up in him, the smell of cologne on his neck embracing your senses with a warm woody scent, the heat of his body dripping onto your skin until your shivers finally come to a stop. Your racing heart slows to a steady pace and you let your eyes fall shut for a while, enjoying the peaceful quiet sounds of his breathing and his steady heartbeat.

The two of you stay like that for what feels like an eternity, the silence broken only by the occasional creak of the old apartment and the distant hum of wind outside. Sukuna’s warmth envelops you completely, seeping into your chilled bones in a way that no blanket ever could.

“Better now?” His voice is low, almost a rumble in his chest, and you feel the vibrations against your cheek where it rests against him.

“Much.” You admit quietly, your breath tickling his neck.

“Good. Maybe now you won’t freeze to death.” He mutters, but there’s no bite to his words. His tone is softer, almost fond, and his hand begins to draw lazy circles over your back.

You glance up at him, his face just inches from yours. His crimson eyes are half-lidded, his usual smirk softened into something gentler. You rarely see him like this, but lately you’ve been witnessing it more and more; he’s relaxed, unguarded. It’s a side of him that’s both unfamiliar and heart-achingly endearing.

“You’re awfully cozy for someone who didn’t want to be touched.” You tease, tilting your head slightly to study his reaction.

He scoffs, his cheeks darkening just enough to make you wonder if he’s blushing, “Yeah, well, I didn’t think you’d be this pathetic about it. Consider it a favor.”

“A favor?” You raise a brow, unable to hide your amused grin.

“Yeah. Don’t get used to it,” he grumbles, though his arm tightens around you ever so slightly.

Despite his words, you can feel the contradiction in the way he holds you, his grip firm and unyielding as if he’s afraid you’ll slip away. And you can’t help but wrap your arms around him tighter, hoping this so called favor doesn’t have to end.

“You’re warm.” You mumble, almost to yourself.

“Don’t get all sentimental on me,” His voice is a low warning, but it lacks any real edge.

You tilt your head up to meet his gaze, and for a moment, neither of you says a word. The air feels heavy, charged with something unspoken yet undeniable. His eyes flicker down to your lips for the briefest second, and your breath catches in your throat.

“You’re staring.” He mumbles, but he doesn’t look away.

“So are you.” You whisper softly.

The tension between you grows, fragile yet electric, until finally, he huffs and shifts his gaze away, breaking the spell, “Go to sleep, idiot. You’ll need it for when the landlord shows up tomorrow.”

Despite the abrupt shift, his tone carries no real harshness, and the arm around your waist stays securely in place. You press your cheek against his chest once more, unable to resist a small smile.

“Fine.” You whisper, closing your eyes and letting yourself relax fully into his warmth.

He doesn’t say anything, but the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your ear is answer enough. Whatever this moment between the two of you is, you’ll take it for now, tucked in his arms as the cold world outside fades away.

A/N: Merry Christmas to those who celebrate!! And thank you to everyone who has been so kind and supportive and patient with me during my writers block <3 I don’t think I’m fully back quite yet but I’ve made massive progress and I’m hopeful that I’ll be writing regularly again soon :) Dividers by @adornedwithlight

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!!

[wandasaura]

EVEN STATUES CRUMBLE

summary — when exhaustion creeps up on you after a long week, you find yourself coming undone quickly. luckily, maria’s there to hold you close and put all of your broken pieces back together

warning(s) — hurt/comfort, elements of fluff, domestic maria hill, platonic blackhill, brief mentions of battle, civilian casualties, and death, sleepy natasha being a softie, maria fixing all of your problems because that’s just what she does

The keycard attached to the waistband of your pants got you into pretty much anywhere aboard the helicarrier; one of the very few perks that came with being a Level Ten agent alongside Nicholas J. Fury. You adored your livelihood, that wasn’t even a question you graveled over on your busiest days – you wouldn’t sacrifice so many nights if you didn’t – however, with being so high on the ladder of ranks came the inevitable burnout when paperwork and mission reports piled up; which they inevitably always did despite your meticulous schedule and borderline obsessive work ethic. You delegated the workload of ten other agents on the daily, usually without so much as breaking a sweat, but a particular mission report from a Level Six had gotten to you in a moment of exhaustion. 

Your boots were the same Shield issued footwear that everyone else wore around the helicarrier, clunky and steel toed with near indestructible black laces, but your footsteps were light as you padded down the dimly lit hallway toward an office you’d practically adopted as your own since the director had found himself another right-hand woman. There was no point in knocking when you reached it after what felt like hours of slowly trudging down void hallways, you were the only one with clearance to enter without being physically let in, other than Fury himself, but he’d never turn up to her office, especially not so late into the night. The soft glow of a desk lamp creeping beneath the crack in the door alerted you of life inside the spacious room, and a faint smile pulled at your lips despite your exhaustion and wary emotions. 

A small light on the side of the metal door flashed green for only a millisecond before it faded and the latch clicked tellingly. You bristled at the assault of frigid air that swept past you when you pushed inside tiredly, but steeled your expressions quickly when your eyes trailed over the room and noted not one, but two bodies. A displeased huff fell off of your lips when you noticed Maria behind her desk, a mountain of paperwork practically hiding her from view entirely, and Natasha sprawled out on her couch with a solemn glaze over her green eyes. 

“She’s in my spot.” You sighed, no real malice behind your words, but exhaustion put a damper on your typically lightspoken banter with the redhead. It seems both you and Natasha, a woman that had somehow wormed her way into the heart of the Deputy Director despite her bloodied past, had sought refuge in Maria’s quiet presence tonight, and you weren’t quite sure how to feel about it. You held nothing against the reformed assassin, she’d seen you at some of your worst moments, but you’d been holding out hope that a few stolen minutes with Maria alone would heal the ache you carried deep. 

Natasha, who was always quick with her wit, didn’t seem to have it in her either, and softly she allowed her voice to break the silence that had been light over the office prior to your entrance. “I can leave.” You shook your head dismissively, kicking the door closed behind you in favor of stalking over to Maria’s desk. 

Out of habit, the Commander tilted her screen away from your gaze, her dark yet meticulously kept eyebrows furrowing as you came behind her desk without hesitation. “I’m higher clearance than you, and Natasha’s been able to see everything you're doing from the couch, Ria.” You rolled your eyes fondly, hands bracing themselves on the back of her chair that you pulled away from the desk without taking her responsibilities into account. She had the same deadlines as you, only hers weren’t so structured and rigorous. You knew that anything she was doing could wait until morning, even if she liked to be overly prepared and considered anything but early a direct hit to her reputation. “Just hold me.” 

You fell into her lap without another word, curling up against her battered and stiff uniform that had definitely seen better days. Your head tucked itself into the pocket of darkness and warmth between her chin and shoulder, your fingers already working at the hair tie around her thin chestnut strands, wanting them free from the confines of her tightly secured bun. With the black elastic around your wrist, you sighed contently, absentmindedly pulling your fingers through the loose knots that had formed from your ungraceful removal of her hair tie. It was an apologetic gesture, the tips of your fingers soothing the skin of her scalp that had definitely been snagged with your quick movements, but Maria had become accustomed to your endearing quirks that almost always followed a vicious panic attack. 

“Romanoff, if you move from that couch, I will have you on Clint clean-up duty for the rest of the month.” Even if you couldn’t see the Russian from behind your eyelids, even if you were pressed so tightly against Maria’s neck that even with open eyes all you’d see was darkness, your body could practically feel her silent movements. It was a valid response, however you held her to a higher standard than you did other agents. Your girlfriend trusted her with her life, you’d made something of a friend out of her since her first year at Shield, it was slightly insulting that she thought she had to flee at the first sight of vulnerability from you. “I just… I just need a minute.” 

Even as you tried to pull rank, tried to command her obedience, Natasha could tell that your heart wasn’t in it. Whether to humor you, or simply because she didn’t really want to retreat to her own quarters, she sank into the couch once more, throwing her arm over her eyes as she succumbed to the same darkness that you sought out. A shaky breath fell off your lips when Maria’s thumbs dug into your shoulder blades, applying pressure to all of the knots and tension that had accumulated over the grueling week. You’d been unintentionally ghosting her, although neither of you really counted missed lunch dates and empty beds to mean anything significant, but the premise was all the same, even if she held no resentment toward your work ethic that was too similar to her own. 

“Diaz?” Maria’s voice was soft, understanding even, as she asked. Even the name of the agent had you going rigid in her clutches, a choked whimper falling off of your lips as you tightened your grip on her hair and worked feverishly to weave little braids into the silky chestnut strands that could do for a wash and deep condition. You’d have to remember to remind her next time she had a slow morning, but that wasn’t coming anytime soon for either of you. 

You nodded wordlessly against her neck, pinching your eyes shut even tighter if that was at all possible. You loved your job, adored the livelihood that you’d found a family in, but no amount of experience made reading civilian death counts easier. No amount of experience made loss any lighter. “Seventeen, Ria. Seventeen people died. It just– I haven’t seen a civilian death count that high since Sokovia.” 

In retrospect, seventeen people wasn’t a lot, not when you put it up against the battle of Sokovia that had earned Shield another foreign agent and an inconsolable migraine for months to follow, but when you analyzed the mission objective, when you stripped back everything that it was up against, it was still seventeen innocent people that had been caught in the crossfire. “We can’t save them all, mi alma.” It was a weak condolence, Maria knew that, but it was what you needed to hear, even if you detested it. Shield had saved twenty from a Hydra base in Madripoor, all of them no older than nineteen years old, but still seventeen people that were in the wrong place at the wrong time had died. Shield had saved twenty children, but still parents, and siblings, and people had lost their lives to do so. Was any good really done if the children who got to go home didn’t have a mother to help them through the trauma? Had any good really been done if a daughter didn’t have a father to come home to? 

“Eleven.” To Natasha, the number that fell off your lips was entirely random, but for Maria, who knew everything about you, down to the way you liked to tie your shoes, always starting with the left one first, it meant something more. Eleven people had died in an ambush the night that Nicholas J. Fury had swept you away from the rubble and into the empire that hadn’t been so publicly known at the time. Eleven people that you’d known, some loosely and some deeply intimately. Your single mother that had worked four jobs just to keep the electric on in the biting cold of winter had died, and you’d held her hand as she took her final breath, entirely helpless and terrified. Seventeen people had died in Madripoor, and depressingly, you could only picture yourself in the aftermath of such a tragedy. 

How many kids were going to come home from school without a parent? How many parents were going to come home from work without a child? The guilt of surviving weighed heavily on your heart, but it was exhaustion that pushed you past the point of thinking rationally. Madripoor had sung its praises to Shield after the initial battle just under a month ago. You’d seen the headlines, manned the press conferences, talked with the families that had wanted to reach out, but seeing that number in pristine black ink had rattled you fiercely. 

“When’s the last time you slept, bebé?” The softly spoken pet name was usually enough to bring a smile to your face no matter the conditions you faced, but it only had you sinking deeper into Maria now. Your heart felt so heavy in your chest, your bones felt so dense in your body, everything that you’d been managing had finally crushed you; just like the rubble had crushed your mother’s unsuspecting body on a side street in Manhattan when all she’d wanted to do was show you her new favorite coffee shop. 

“Don’t know… the last time I came home?” Your voice was meek, distant as you trailed through your memory trying to locate the date in your mind. You’d been home that Wednesday night, sank into bed beside Maria and held her close until she’d gotten up for her own shift, and had continued to sleep for another two hours before sunlight brought on more assignments and deadlines, but that was so fuzzy now, so long ago. You barely knew the date, but Maria did, and she sighed softly in confirmation. 

“It’s Friday, sweetheart.” She informed, her thumbs still digging into the spots of tension in your back, working out the knots and kinks that had you stiff beneath her touch. “You’re exhausted.” 

“And you’re not? I check the entry logs, Ria.” Your defiance was softly muttered, and Maria sighed her resignation. She hadn’t been home either, not since Thursday morning when she’d slipped out of your arms and left you to rest a while longer in a stiff bed dressed in scratchy sheets, but she’d taken the breaks she knew her body needed, even if it had been begrudgingly. The couch that Natasha was draped across had seen a similar form from her multiple times since then, even if the longest consecutive rest she’d gotten was merely half an hour. That was the difference between you both. Maria knew when she had to come first, even if she often waited until the very last second to actually step away from her tasks. You, on the other hand, saw everything else as a priority. That was what got you so high on the ranking ladder. That characteristic was one of many reasons why you alone shared the same ranking level as Fury. When shit needed to be done, he knew that you’d do it, no questions asked. But that blindsided work-ethic was going to kill you eventually. 

“You’ve slept once in the last week, mi amor.” Maria sighed, knowing that she was arguing with a wall at this point, but willing to put the effort in anyways. She was always willing to put the effort in for you, even if you couldn’t do it for yourself. Her hands caressed your back affectionately, slipping away from your shoulder blades only to put pressure on your spine, cracking the bones and notches in your back soothingly without spoken word. You sighed, deflating in her lap once again, craning your neck only to release some of the ache and tension in your jaw before you burrowed into her neck once more, still keeping fistfulls of her soft hair between your fingers that had been stained black from smudged ink. 

At some point, you must’ve fallen asleep against her, never slackening your grip on her chestnut tresses but grabbing onto the neckline of her uniform at an undisclosed moment. She hadn’t tried to move you, hadn’t tried to wake you, hadn’t tried to move at all. She’d simply sat in the silence of her office with Natasha’s easy company, shuffling through paperwork and mission reports, but getting no real work done, distracted by your warmth against her chest and the weight of you draped across her lap for the first time in days. When you woke a handful of hours later, the warmth of the sun and the light of a new day rousing you from an uneventful sleep – the level of exhaustion you faced preventing dreams from even playing out – you didn’t stiffen in alarmed surprise when you realized that strong arms were looped around your waist and keeping you steadily upright. Maria was a distinguishable presence even when you were half delirious, and a warm smile pulled at the corners of your lips as you laid a gentle kiss to the neglected patch of skin behind her earring-less earlobe. She really needed to start wearing her cartilage cuffs again, but the last one you’d gotten for her had been lost to a bloodied battle in Argentina. You made the mental note to get her another one sometime soon, but for now, you simply basked in the presence of her company that was so painfully warm and inviting. 

“You had Romanoff on edge last night.” Maria mused, her fingers tightening around your waist in a sweet wordless greeting, prematurely ending the reign of silence that you’d been enjoying, but you didn’t complain. The sound of her voice was just as inviting, if not more intoxicating than silence ever could be. 

“Even statues crumble every now and again.” You huffed against her neck, tightening your grip on her uniform if that was at all possible, allowing your gentle fingers to tickle the skin hidden from view that still carried the lingering scent of your body wash. “She’ll get over it.” 

“You really have to stop referring to yourself as a statue. The rookies are going to start thinking an alien attack sucked the emotions out of your body..” She chortled, breathy laughter twinged with traces of mental exhaustion jostling both of your bodies, and you couldn’t help the smile that twisted your dehydrated lips upward involuntarily in response. How you could spend so many days away from her never made sense when you were wrapped up in her presence, but it was reassuring to know that no matter the length of time that separated your passionate love, she would always be there to crawl home to. 

“As soon as you stop feeding into being called Hard-Ass Hill, I’ll stop fucking with the rookies.” Another chaste kiss was laid onto her skin, the second in too many days to count, but you’d make up for your absence before you inevitably returned to your own office to continue drowning in paperwork that never ended. “Te amo tanto.” You signed your unarguable admiration, but she wouldn’t be Maria Hill if she didn’t have a sharp comeback to silence your efforts. 

“Te amo mucho mas, mi alma.”

[baldval]

Can you do a Vox x reader where we comfort Vox after Valentino broke his screen?

please and thank you!

TO BE HUNTED!₊˚⊹♡

characters: vox x gn!reader (stablished relationship)

warnings: implied violence from valentino (not mentioned explicitly)

wc: 608

a/n: tried to make this short and sweet, also i don't know how to fix screens??? i just talked about it as if it was average human skin.

"sit down." your tone is crisp, an order, not a request.

you walk not towards him but to the freezer as you speak, and when you turn around, there is a bag of frozen peas in your hand.

"i'm okay," he tells you, but he can't stop the hiss of pain that emerges when you press the bag of peas - gently, and wrapped in a paper towel - against the left side of his screen.

there's a slight sting too, enough to make him think that the glass might be broken.

"sure you are." your voice is dry and when he chances a glance up at you, you're actually rolling her eyes. "that's why you're going to have a black eye the size of Jupiter in the morning." you lift the bag a little, pursing your lips at what you see: a huge line going from his right eye towards the left part of his mouth. "i have some paper stitches upstairs in my med bag; you might need them."

when you press the bag back down, there's another sting. his screen was definitely broken. he's expecting the pain this time so he keeps the hiss back. his hand is warm against yours when you take him by the wrist.

it's not romantic , you're just checking his pulse, however, you can't help but feel certain butterflies in your stomach as you feel the contact of his skin against your fingers.

"where else?"

it's on the tip of his tongue to tell you that he's absolutely fine but the look that you give him has him rethinking that notion.

"ribs," he admits. "left side. i'm pretty sure they're only bruised…"

"let me be the judge of that." you kneel down beside him, fingers making short work of the buttons of his shirt, lips pursing again when you see the livid red marks shaped like someone's boot.

your hands run across the marks, probing and pressing and it's hard for vox not to squirm because not only are your hands cold but also because usually when your hands are moving across his skin like this, it's very much not in a medical capacity. which is something that his body doesn't seem to recognise, even if he is in pain.

as you straighten up, you look back into his eyes, a relieved look on your face. "nothing broken," you confirm. "but I wouldn't be doing anything strenuous if I was you."

he can't help himself. he reaches out his free hand, cupping your cheek. "aw… shame."

he's not actually being serious, but amusement flickers across your face. "you cannot possibly be turned on by this scenario." you tease.

vox drops the bag of peas on the kitchen table, pulling you onto his lap. you go easily, looping your arms around his neck.

"i think you seriously need to reconsider the effect that you have on me at all times," he tells you, bringing his lips towards you for a kiss.

it doesn't last as long as he would like, his own hiss of pain being the main cause of that, and your reaction is half resigned, half 'i told you so'

"so, doctor," he asks as you drop your forehead against his, "what's the prescription?"

"bed rest." your reply is prompt as your hands slide towards his, threading your fingers through his and pulling him up.

"lots of lots of bed rest…" there's a twinkle in your eyes that he's very familiar with and loves to see. "while i see what it takes to kiss you better."

vox thinks that the answer to that particular question is 'not much'.

[nyuusayuri]

My "handsome" Stalker

Ateez Choi San x Reader (SMUT)

Warnings: stalking, signs of violence, dirty talk, possessive behavior, smut

For your information: I made up this story 10 years ago (when I was around 14-15), so I apologize if some things sound weird or rushed, but I wanted to keep as much of the original as possible.

In the middle of the forest, I got a strange feeling. A feeling I only had when something was wrong. And something was definitely not right here. I stopped and looked around carefully. It was getting a bit dark, but I didn't care. My eyes were good enough to see everything around me. When I looked back ahead, he was there. The man who hadn't left me alone for quite some time. He constantly followed me everywhere, never took his eyes off me, and allowed me no privacy. Who was this guy? A sick stalker?! Everything pointed to that being the case. I stared stubbornly into his eyes, which he hid behind black sunglasses. You could hardly see him. The only thing visible were his black hair. The rest was concealed under a black leather jacket, jeans, and black boots. Around his mouth and nose, he wore a mask.

It was intimidating to stand in front of a completely black figure that you didn't know, who was always stalking you, and was now out in the forest as it was getting darker. My limbs had stiffened, and I couldn't move an inch. "What... what do you want from me?!" As hard as it was for me, in all that fear, I tried not to show my anxiety. Did I even want to know what he wanted from me? Probably not. My gaze was fixed on him, but he didn't respond; he simply disappeared behind the bushes. Still frozen and shocked from the unexpected encounter with the unknown stalker, I stood there. Only after a while did the stiffness in my joints fade, and I continued walking through the small forest area toward my home. I took off my shoes and ignored the screaming of my quarrelsome parents, like I did every time, and went straight to my room, just to free myself from my jacket, throwing it onto the small sofa in my room and collapsing, with a loud sigh, into my cozy warm bed. Immediately, my eyelids, heavy from exhaustion, fell shut, and I drifted off into my own land with my own rules.

3 Weeks later

I was slowly fed up. This guy was still stalking me, and now the new bad boy at our school was also in the picture to annoy me. Jae and Sora helped me stay out of his way, but one day it had to happen. Unfortunately, that day was today. He and I had to work together on the same project, that's how we ended up at my house, and I swear I was so close to tearing his head off! He could never keep his hands to himself, and if my little sister wasn't here, he would have been dead a long time ago! I hated this guy so much! "San! Could you please focus on the screen and not on my cleavage?!" I shot him venomous glances, but he didn't seem to be impressed, because instead of trembling with fear, he just laughed. Had I mentioned that I hated this guy?! Because I'd gladly say it again. I hated him! "But you have two far more interesting toys to offer."

Disgusted, I redirected my gaze to the laptop in front of me and began searching for more information about Seoul before our time. After hours, we were both fed up, and it was already getting dark. Since I didn't want him to think about spending the night here, I dragged him straight to the front door. Unfortunately, my parents caught me in all the haste. They still believed that I should finally get a boyfriend, and they were okay with absolutely anyone at the moment. Just not for me. "Y/N sweetheart? Why are you in such a hurry with that poor guy?" I interrupted my mom before she could continue. "I have a lot to do, Mom. San should really be going now." Without waiting for another word, from anyone, I shoved him out the door and slammed it behind me. My parents just looked at me with wide eyes, confusion written on their foreheads. They were the kind of parents who never understood teenagers like me. So I didn't care any further because I knew it wouldn't do any good and immediately disappeared back into "My" realm. "What an idiot! If my parents dare to hook me up with him, I swear I'm gonna jump off a bridge!" I muttered, slightly annoyed.

Yes, I was easily provoked and thrown off course in the evenings. Grumbling, I threw myself onto the bed, pulled the blanket over me, switched off my bedside lamp, and fell immediately into a deep, dreamless sleep. The next morning, I had no desire to go to school. Especially because I had to see him again. It would be even worse if I had to see them both. If I encountered that weird guy from the forest in the same spot again. The thought sent chills down my spine. He scared me, but still... there was something intriguing about him that drew me in. Yes, it really sounded like I was losing my mind, but I was definitely still sane. That's why it felt so strange to me. After arriving at school, I initially had my peace and quiet. Jae and Sora weren't there today, so I could wander around alone all day. I actually had many friends at school, but I only hung out with those I cared about more.

With the others, I would just be bored and wouldn't fit into the group at all. And I could definitely do without that. So, I preferred to sit in a quiet place, put on my headphones, and listen to music. It was a nice feeling to be able to be by myself. At home, I had my family, who usually got on my nerves, and here I had my two friends, who constantly talked about some celebrities, fashion, or other stuff while I just stood there, lost in my thoughts. Today, I had settled once again into my usual spot and listened to Taeyeon's beautiful voice in her song "I." One of the few songs that calmed me down so much that I could relax deeply and everything around me felt like air.

After a while, I looked at the clock on my phone and realized that class was starting again. Thank goodness I had developed a sense for that, otherwise, I would have been late. Sighing, I sank down into my seat and rested my head on my hand. It was so boring without the two of them. But only in class. Suddenly, the shrieking of the girls echoed through the room, causing me to cover my ears and look in the direction where they had all gathered. Who else stood in the doorway? Of course. Choi fucking San. Why else would the girls start screeching like that? Without a word, I just walked right past them and couldn't help but feel his gaze on the back of my neck. Creep.

After school, the feeling of being followed overcame me again. I kept turning around and looking at the surroundings, but I saw no one following me. The few people who were walking around ignored me or gave me confused looks. Shrugging my shoulders, I continued walking. When I arrived home, it was really quiet. That had never happened before. For the past two years, there had always been pure terror as soon as I got home. After all this time, it was quiet in the house, but I didn't like it. Before I went to my room, I crossed the entire house and looked around. Everyone was gone. No one there. Strange. I was still quite uneasy, but I tried to ignore it and went to my room. My phone suddenly flashed and showed me a message from my mother. Apparently my parents and my sister are currently at the doctor's because she had the brilliant idea of ​​eating nuts at school despite her nut allergy. Can't say I was surprised to hear that.

Immediately, I sat down to do my homework because, 1. I wanted to get it done as quickly as possible, and 2. I knew I'd be sitting there for hours again. "Finally! Done." I exhaled and leaned back in my chair. After three hours, I had finally finished. To be honest, I was the kind of person who always got distracted by something without meaning to. That's why I spent a bit longer than others on my homework. When my stomach finally started growling, I walked into the kitchen, grabbed the leftovers from the casserole in the fridge, put it on a plate, and popped it in the microwave while leaning against the counter in our kitchen. Bing. I jumped up, took the plate out of the microwave, and sat down on the sofa, switching on the TV at the same time. I always watched TV while eating. It was completely normal for me.

Something shattered behind me. A small scream escaped my throat, and I immediately looked behind me in the apartment. No one there. But what was that? On the shelf above the TV, we had katanas on display. I couldn't handle those things, but it was better than being unarmed. I quickly grabbed one of the katanas, carefully took it out of its sheath, and walked cautiously in the direction from which the noise originated.

Keeping the sword poised in front of me, I walked through the hallway and discovered my mother's vase shattered on the floor. I almost stepped on the shards. I walked around it in a wide arc and moved toward my father's office. Light was on, and the door was ajar. Suddenly, I saw a shadow beneath the door. I felt fear. Real fear. Any sane person would have screamed and run out of the house, calling for help. But I was different in this situation. What I was doing was the last thing anyone should do.

The door slowly opened, and I held the sword ready to confront the intruder. My eyes widened when I saw who stood before me. The guy who kept stalking me. He was here. In my house! Oh my God! What now? I was frozen. My hands trembled with uncertainty. The last bit of my courage had vanished. The guy slowly approached me cautiously, reaching for his mask that covered half of his face and slowly pulled it down. At the same time, he removed his sunglasses. Did I want to see what creature was beneath that mask? I squinted my eyes and bit down hard on my lower lip. My heart raced uncontrollably, and the adrenaline surged through my blood, making me feel so nervous and restless I could hardly stand. I had never felt as much fear in my entire life as I did in that moment. "Look at me, Y/N." That voice. I knew it. Could it be? Was it really him? Hesitantly, I opened my eyes and immediately looked into the face of the person I hated most. Choi San stood right in front of me. He was the stalker?! Was this guy joking with me?! Angrily, I put the katana down and glared at him with hatred.

"Have you lost your mind scaring me like this?! Do that again, and I'll rip your head off!" I shouted at him, and he flinched slightly before grabbing my wrists and slamming me roughly against the wall. His face was uncomfortably close, and not a second later, as I was thinking about it, his lips were on mine. I fought with all my strength, but he was ten times stronger than me, so I eventually gave in. Still reluctantly, I reciprocated his kiss, and he immediately made it more demanding and wild. I didn't know why, but over time, I let him overpower me. I surrendered completely as he started covering my neck with kisses and sometimes began sucking on it. We then moved into my room; he immediately shoved me onto my bed and knelt over me. Again, he placed his lips on mine, and I automatically wrapped my arms around his neck to pull him even closer to me. Why did I suddenly have this desire for him? None of this made any sense. I hated him! And yet, here I was, wildly making out beneath him. His fingers slid under my shirt and slowly pushed it up. He stroked my stomach while sucking on my neck. Tomorrow, I would definitely have a hickey there.

Jae and Sora were back today. That mainly took away the boredom. It had been two weeks already, but I constantly thought back to that one night when he was with me and kissed me. But the worst part of it all was that I had reciprocated, and if my parents hadn't come home that evening, I probably would have... Oh God, please no! Not with him! Anything but that! My aching cheek brought me back to reality. My two friends were standing in front of me, and Sora had slapped me. That was the only way to pull me out of my daydreams. Still, it hurt. "Sora~. What was that for? That hurts." I whined with a pout. She just placed her hands on her hips and looked at me sternly. "Then stop daydreaming when I'm talking to you. You know how much I hate being ignored." Oh yes, that was true. And how much she hated it. Just as much as being interrupted. If she ever got a boyfriend, I hoped for him that he was deaf-mute.

He pulled my shirt over my head and pinned my wrists to the bed. I hadn't expected that. A bit surprised and nervous at the same time, I looked at him. "S-San? What-..." "Shh. Don't be afraid. I won't hurt you. You mean way too much to me," he murmured against my lips, interrupting me and teasingly licking them. He was driving me crazy. I was already feeling so hot, and my body was practically screaming for him. He sat up and took off his coat and shirt as well. Could you believe it? He had an incredibly well-trained body, and so many tattoos adorned him, making him even more attractive. "Do you like what you see?" he grinned cheekily at me, and only now did I realize that I was staring. I turned my face away, blushing slightly, but didn't answer him. Again, he leaned down for another wild kiss and captured my lips. Suddenly, the front door slammed open, and we both stared in shock in that direction. Then our eyes met again. San pulled his clothes back on, freed me from my restraints, and ran to my window. "See you later," he winked at me and then jumped out of the window. Completely dazed, I remained lying in bed.

A few days later

Suddenly students started to run past us outside and formed a circle around a spot. What the hell? My expression became serious, and I marched outside to the yard with my friends directly behind me. I stopped and saw... my best friend and San? What had Wooyong done? He was the nicest person I knew and was pretty much always with me. Jae always said he wanted something from me, but I couldn't believe that. He was my best friend and nothing more. San seemed to be the one who was angry. I could tell by his gaze. He was tearing Wooyoung apart with just his eyes. I walked up to the two of them and stood between the two fighters. "What's going on here?!" I said seriously, crossing my arms over my chest. San simply ignored me, walked up to him, grabbed him by the collar, and whispered something in his ear that I unfortunately couldn't hear. I immediately pulled him away from Wooyoung, who shot him an angry look before disappearing into the school building, taking half the students with him. The rest scattered across the schoolyard. I could only shake my head and walked over to my best friend. "Wooyoung. Are you okay? What was that about?" "Nothing! That's none of your business." He turned around and just walked away. I watched him with wide eyes. What was that all about?

After school, I felt again that I was being followed. This time, I didn't care since I knew who it was, and I definitely had no fear of him. Out of nowhere I was grabbed by the arm and pulled into a wooded area. Totally surprised, I looked at the back of San's head and was literally forced to follow him. "San, what the hell? Let me go!" He didn't say anything but just kept pulling me along. Eventually, we arrived in a big backyard. "Wait a minute. Isn't this... my backyard?!" I looked at San, somewhat confused. However, he averted his gaze and pulled me into the house. He shoved me into my room and locked the door behind him. He angrily approached me and pushed me onto my bed, leaning over me and looking into my eyes intently. "Stay away from him! Do you understand?!" I blinked several times to comprehend what he meant. "What... what do you mean by that?" He sighed and lowered his head for a moment before looking back into my eyes. "Your friend just wants to get into your pants. Don't fall for that fraud!" "What?! Wooyoung is my best friend! He would never do that!" "Oh, really? Are you sure?" he said still seriously, leaning even closer to me. "Kim Sook. She was very close friends with him for two years until they ended up in bed, and then he left her hanging. My friend Mingi's sister didn't fare any better. So how do you know it would be different for you?! Do you really think I'd let that happen?!" he nearly shouted at me, and I stayed calm out of fear.

For a while, we stared into each other's eyes in silence. He was still so close to me; it made me quite nervous, but it also calmed me down. His closeness and warmth soothed me just like the wonderful, musky scent of his aftershave. Slowly, he bridged the last few centimeters and I could feel those wonderful, soft lips on mine. It was just a brief kiss, but it awakened so much within me. "I don't want to lose you to him," he whispered against my lips and kissed me again, this time with more pressure. I couldn't resist this guy, so I immediately wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer to me. He supported himself on his forearms on either side of my head and let the kiss become more passionate while one of his hands glided from my neck down my entire body. A pleasurable shiver ran down my spine, and it felt like it was getting warmer in my room. His hand wandered under my shirt and slowly lifted it. His tongue teased over my lips, and I willingly opened them for him. San's tongue explored my mouth, played with mine, and with both hands, he massaged my breasts. Things got hotter and he leaned down to my neck, gently kissing his way down to my breasts, pulling my shirt and bra off. Normally, I would have turned red with shame, but at that moment, I was too aroused by the hot curly head above me.

His gaze devoured me, and he licked his lips seductively before leaning down to my breasts, circling my nipples with his tongue. Moaning softly, I scratched lightly down his back, enjoying the teasing of my breasts. Occasionally, he would bite lightly and suck on them. It was driving me insane, and my core started tingling with excitement. Impatiently, I squirmed beneath him and noticed his dirty grin as he kissed down my stomach. He wouldn't dare...?! No second later, my legs were pushed further apart, and I saw his head disappear between my legs. "San, stop that!" A bit embarrassed, I tried to stop him, grabbing his hair, but in the next moment, I had to stifle a moan and instinctively clutched his hair tightly. My strength slipped away in an instant, and I sank back into the pillows. He blissfully ran his long tongue along my wet core, skillfully teasing my sensitive pearl with the tip of his tongue, which only made me moan louder, my hips involuntarily arching up to meet him. His lips wrapped around my pearl, and he sucked on it hard, licking teasingly over my entrance while grinning at me. I couldn't do anything but surrender completely and let this man drive me crazy.

Moaning, I pulled on his hair and moved my hips against him, feeling that I was getting closer to my long-desired climax. Just a few more seconds, and I would finally go over the edge after his sweet torture on my sensitive clit. "San! Fuck!" I cried out, clutching his hair tighter, pulling on it as I arched my back and climaxed. Never in my life had an orgasm been as overwhelming as this one. Breathless and totally surprised, I looked at San, who was smirking cheekily, eliciting one last whimper from me followed by a reflexive arching of my hips as his tongue glided one last time over my now pulsating core. He kissed his way back up to me, sucking onto a spot behind my ear. I bit my lower lip to stifle any revealing sound, but just the tension in my body seemed to let him know that it was that spot I liked the most, and he traced it with his tongue. "Do you like that?" he whispered into my ear with his rough, deep voice, bringing another whimper out of me, and the only thing I could manage was a weak nod. San looked at me and didn't even try to hide his smug grin, to which I just rolled my eyes.

My gaze traveled along his face to his full, rosy lips, just waiting to press themselves back onto mine, showering me with their gentleness. "Do you want more?" It was just a soft whisper brushing against my lips that sent indescribable goosebumps down my spine, yet it was enough to stir up my loins and reflexively make my head nod slightly, though forcefully. God, what was this guy doing to me? Grinning, San stood up from me, and I became witness to an incredibly hot strip tease. It hadn't even occurred to me that he still had all his clothes on. But that I was getting this private show right now made me all the happier, and I could hardly wait to feel him inside me. To be taken shamelessly yet tenderly and passionately. He was driving me completely mad, and my clarity was dwindling as I was led to unleash the woman that had been slumbering inside me this whole time. A fiery young woman who had been waiting for the man who would cloud all her senses and send her to cloud nine, making her forget where up and down were. I immediately shook my head and tried to regain some clarity of mind.

This guy had managed to make me aroused just by my thoughts of the tattooed, dominant, and hot man who had such an incredibly bright smile and could easily wrap any woman around his finger. I still couldn't take my eyes away from that incredibly hot six-pack, scrutinizing every single one of his tattoos in detail. I just caught on the side how he grinned at me and slowly moved back toward my bed. Like a predator, he crawled toward me, pushing me back into the pillows. Again, he came so close, and his gaze made me hold my breath for a moment. His eyes were full of lust, and even his breath became a bit shallower, while his skin felt burning hot. "Do you have any idea how damn sexy you look? So helpless and so aroused. And all because of me." His rough voice made my core pulse even stronger, and I instinctively squirmed beneath him.

With a glazed look, he watched me until he grabbed my legs, spreading them apart and lying between them. He pressed his lips demandingly against mine and immediately deepened the kiss into a wild and intense tongue dance. San sucked on my tongue, licking and playing with it while his hands began to travel down my legs. Gently, he ran his right hand along my inner thigh to my core and paused just before reaching it. A bit confused, I was about to break the kiss and ask him what he was planning, when suddenly I felt something hard and pulsing at my entrance. Slowly and carefully, making sure not to hurt me, he entered my hot tightness. Piece by piece, deeper and deeper until he was fully buried inside me, letting out a quiet moan. With steady movements, he slowly thrust into me and gradually picked up speed, pounding harder and harder. "Oh my God. San!" Overwhelmed by this sudden and indescribable feeling as he thrust into me, I nearly screamed and clung to his back. "Found you."

Grinning, he grabbed my hips, pulling me closer to him and let his pelvis hit hard against mine. His thrusts became deeper and faster, and each time he hit that one spot inside me, drawing the most beautiful sounds from me and truly sending me to cloud nine. San's hands clutched the pillows beside my head, and his incredible hip movements grew more uncontrolled as he panted. I instinctively wrapped my legs around his waist and let him drive me onward. Finally, we both soared together over the edge and screamed each other's names into the room. Breathless and totally spent, he fell beside me after pulling out and draped the blanket over our bodies. "That was..." "Yes, that... was it," I finished his sentence, looking at him with a weak smile as I breathed heavily, which he returned by pulling me into his strong arms. "I love you, Y/N." That was the last thing I heard before my eyes fell shut and I drifted off into dreamland.

[guess-my-next-obsession]

In The Cold, Cold Night: Chapter One

pairing: cowboy/frontier!joel miller x oc (Dorothea) / unrequited tommy miller

rating: M (talks of death, bordellos, gender constructs, other wild west things, tommy is a cocky flirt)

wc: 7.2k

series masterlist | playlist

It was a hot and dry spring in Texas, the corn fields out in front of the Mackey family farmhouse dying underneath the brutal and unforgiving sun. John Mackey, the patriarch of his small, humble family, tried his best to conceal his worry over the season’s meager harvest, but his wife, Jessa, and his eldest child, Dorothea, or Dottie as her family called her, had a unique ability to see right through his hardened exterior to the vulnerable, frightened man inside.

Although she was a grown woman, her twenty-fourth birthday passing just seven months prior, Dorothea chose not to venture out from her parent’s watch like all the other girls in their small town had done years before. She liked the predictability of home—the sound of her father’s work boots hitting the hardwood after a long day in the field, the smell of her mother’s cooking, the loud chatter of her five younger brothers as they ran around the house and farm like they were wild animals. Though a part of her did crave more, it was a small enough part that she could ignore, fixing her brown eyes instead on taking care of the things she already had.

“Daddy!” James, the youngest of the clan at only six years, came hurtling into the kitchen as his father sat at the dinner table sipping on a fresh cup of black coffee, Jessa Mackey and Dorothea standing at the sink scrubbing this morning’s dishes. “Look what the lady at the store gave me and Ed.”

“Let me see what’cha got,” the gruff man said, lowering his cup and newspaper to the tabletop as he fixed his attention on his son.

James wore a wide, boyish grin as he reached into the front pocket of his dirty, denim overalls and pulled out a burlap sack, his tiny fingers pulling the drawing string loose so that he could dump out the contents on top of his father’s morning news.

“Well, what’s all this, now?” John said, catching a few of the tiny glass spheres as they began to roll off the uneven table.

“Marbles,” he said, full of wonder and excitement. “She even taught me how to play with ‘em.”

“Can you teach me?” he asked, setting the handful of marbles into the little boy’s hand.

“I forgot,” he smiled bashfully. “But Eddie—“

“I didn’t ask Eddie, now did I?” John smiled back. “Come on, figure it out. You learned once, you can remember.”

“Oh, will you leave him be,” Jessa scolded lightly, chuckling at her husband’s insistence as she walked over, drying her hands on a cloth before throwing it over her shoulder. “Where’s your brother?”

“Outside playin’ with Sarah,” James said, looking up at his mother with round eyes as she carded her fingers through his dust-covered brown hair.

“Who’s Sarah?” Dorothea asked as she dried her hands off on her apron, her brows stitching together.

“She’s new ‘round here,” her youngest brother replied. “She ain’t got any friends—“

“Doesn’t have,” John corrected, lifting his newspaper back up.

“How old is she?” Jessa asked.

“My age,” the boy said, a big toothy smile on his face. “May I go play with ‘em, mama?”

“Yeah, go on,” Jessa smiled and watched as her son ran out of the room with his bag of marbles in hand, the wicker screen door slamming against the wooden frame of the old home as he bolted through it. “I gotta talk to Maggie about givin’ him new toys every time I send ‘em over.”

“She likes it,” Dorothea interjected. “Can’t have babies of her own, it only makes sense she spoils everyone else’s.”

“Don’t matter,” Jessa took a seat at the table to rest her aching feet. “We don’t need another tab.”

John’s eyes lifted to meet his wife as if he were daring her to continue.

“If that girl’s new, maybe I should bake a pie and take it over to her mama and daddy,” Dorothea suggested, sensing the building tension. “We got some blueberries that’ll turn any day now.”

“Sure, honey, go on,” John said, looking back to his paper.

“Don’t use more than y’have to, Dot,” Jessa ordered. “I need flour to make biscuits for supper.”

“I’ll only use what I need, ma,” Dorothea promised with a saintly smile, flashing her emerald green eyes at her mother before heading into the pantry to start out on her baking.

“Daddy!” Sarah’s squeal could be heard from a mile away, causing her father, Joel, to turn his head in the direction of the dirt road, spotting his daughter riding on the handlebars of of a brand new, candy red-painted bicycle, his younger brother pedaling towards the opened gate of their farm. “Look what Uncle Tommy got!”

Joel shook his head at the needless expense as he watched them ride up to where he stood near the porch, his white cotton shirt soaked down his spine from spending the better half of the afternoon fixing the old wooden steps.

“You ain’t got nothin’ better to spend your money on?” Joel asked as they came to a skid in front of him, Sarah hopping off the handlebars and skipping up to her father’s side to hug his hip, his hand smoothing her wild curls out of her face. “Where you been all day, missy? Out causin’ trouble?”

“I made friends with some boys down the road,” she replied, looking up at her father as he quirked an eyebrow.

“Boys, huh?” he asked, his tone playful. “You ain’t old enough to be hangin’ around any boys.”

“But daddy, they’re sweet,” she insisted, rounding her hazel eyes at him and poking out her bottom lip for good measure. Joel smiled and nodded, rubbing his hand across her shoulders.

“I’m just kiddin’, baby girl,” he assured. “What did y’all get up to?”

“We played cowboys on their farm,” she beamed. “I got to be the sheriff.”

“You know me and your daddy used to be cowboys?” Tommy said, leaning against the post of the porch.

“Well, I would’a caught you,” she said, tilting her chin up in confidence.

“Alright, sheriff, why don’t you go inside and wash off all this dirt before supper?” Joel ordered, patting her back as she begrudgingly obeyed her. “Cheer up, I’m makin’ your favorite.”

“Chicken soup?” she squealed again.

“You got it,” he nodded before waving at her to head into the house like he’d asked.

“If you’re gonna yell, yell,” Tommy sighed, taking a seat on the second step.

“I ain’t gonna yell,” Joel sat down with him. “But you can’t be goin’ around town showin’ off and spendin’ like that. We don’t need people pryin’ into our business and gettin’ the wrong idea.”

“It ain’t a crime to be a bounty hunter,” Tommy argued.

“Not when you’re workin’ for the law, but you and I both know we were about as far from the law as we could get,” Joel said. “Just don’t want people treatin’ Sarah bad because of what we did to make ends meet. That’s why we had to leave the last place, remember?”

“Yeah, I know,” Tommy nodded. “I just saw it and thought it would make droppin’ Sarah off at the schoolhouse easier on me, s’all.”

“Well, I ain’t gonna make you take it back,” Joel said, offering a soft smile, bumping his brother’s shoulder with his own. “Just…talk to me before you go out and buy somethin’ that pretty next time, alright? I might want one for myself.”

“Well, speaking’ of pretty,” Tommy nudged his chin forward in the direction of the gate, Joel’s eyes following his eyeline until he saw what he was so fixed on. Tan, freckled skin, a head of chocolate brown waves thrown up messily, a pair of bright green eyes and an equally bright smile heading up the dirt path to the porch.

“She here for you?” Joel whispered to his brother.

“I certainly hope so,” Tommy replied with a smile.

“Hi, y’all, sorry to interrupt,” the unfamiliar face greeted them as she reached the bottom of the steps, both men staring at her with a mixture of confusion and awe. “I’m Dorothea. My little brothers were playin’ with your sister earlier, and I thought I’d bring a pie over to welcome y’all to the town.”

“Sister?” Tommy asked, fixing a charming smile onto his face. “No sister here, but we’ll be glad to take that pie off your hands.”

“Oh,” she furrowed her brows in confusion. “I’m sorry, I guess I must’a—“

“You talkin’ about Sarah?” Joel spoke up, drawing her eyes to meet his.

“Yeah, I think that’s what her name was.”

“That’s my daughter,” he smiled.

“Oh!” Her eyes widened in shock. “I’m sorry, I thought—you look young, so I just thought—“

“No need to apologize,” he assured, standing up and unintentionally towering over her as he walked down the steps. “I had her young; I’m used to it by now.”

Dorothea smiled softly and nodded, her eyes lowering to the pie in her hands rather than at his dark, round eyes.

“Well, this is for y’all, then,” she said, holding the pie out for him to take.

“Thank you,” he accepted it and lifted the cloth covering the top, bringing the pie close to his nose. “Smells great.”

“It’s a family recipe,” she said. “I can give it to your wife if she’s around?”

“Oh—no,” Joel tensed, his smile faltering. “She, uh, she passed givin’ birth to Sarah.”

“Oh,” Dorothea’s eyes turned soft and sympathetic. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s alright,” he assured, flickering his eyes over to his brother who remained watching their new friend with eager eyes. “We’re about to have supper, you could join us? Let us repay you for the pie?”

“Oh, I wish I could, but my mama’s makin’ biscuits and gravy tonight and she’d throw a fit if I stayed out past dark,” Dorothea said, offering him an apologetic smile.

“Well, you’re always welcome,” Joel shrugged. “Your brothers, too. I’m sure Sarah would love it if her new friends stopped by.”

“I’ll let ‘em know,” she smiled. “Well, I should be goin’.”

“You need a ride?” Tommy asked, standing up.

“Oh, no,” she giggled. “I like the walk, gives me a little time away from all the noise.”

“Alright,” Tommy smiled. “You said your name was Dorothy?”

“Dorothea,” Joel corrected.

“That’s right,” she chuckled. “And y’all are?”

“I’m Tommy, he’s Joel,” Tommy said.

“Well, Tommy, Joel,” she smiled as she turned her eyes from Tommy to meet Joel’s again. “It was nice meetin’ y’all. Enjoy that pie.”

“I’m sure we will,” Joel smiled. “Get home safe, now.”

“Everybody knows not to mess with me,” she smirked as she began backing her way towards the gate.

“That so?” he smirked.

“Yep,” she giggled. “Bye now!”

“Bye,” Tommy called, waving at her as she turned around and started down the road in the direction she came. “What a looker.”

“She wasn’t lookin’ at you,” Joel teased.

“What, you think she was lookin’ at you?”

“No,” he replied defensively as he started up the steps. to head into the house, Tommy trailing closely behind.

“You got a crush, old man?”

“Twenty-eight ain’t old,” Joel argued, setting the pie down on the dinner table.

“Older than me,” Tommy quipped. “Older than her.”

“Alright, well since you’re so young and spry, why don’t you go out back and fetch us some milk for supper, charmer?” Joel teased, grabbing the cloth from the pie and swatting it at his younger brother.

It was Sunday afternoon, Joel and Tommy finished with the week’s chores and labor, Sarah skipping down the road with them as they made their way to town to look around at the shops and stands.

Joel, as always, kept his pistol tucked into the holster on his belt, his eyes scanning his surroundings for any potential trouble while desperately hoping none found him.

Joel had lived a lot of life in his twenty-eight years. He started out as a ranch hand to his father, Tommy just old enough to form a sentence while his older brother was expected to go out and tend to the horse, sheep, and cows at five in the morning. School wasn’t a priority to his parents, but learning to take care of the ranch was, to them, as essential to living as breathing.

Joel was fifteen when his father passed from typhoid fever, his mother following shortly after getting caught in the middle of a shoot out in town, leaving him to not only take care of the ranch, but his eleven year old brother as well.

Two years later, Joel and Tommy got swept up in the bounty hunting lifestyle after seeing how much the sheriff was offering for an outlaw on a wanted poster. They bid their ranch goodbye, packed up what little they had, and rode off into the desert to start anew, not knowing a single thing about what was to come.

Though their endeavors started out lawful, a then-seventeen year old Tommy quickly grew bored of their meager earnings and convinced Joel to abandon the lawful bounty hunting in favor of working with outlaws, the two of them hunting out sheriffs and their own people instead.

This was how Joel met Sarah’s mother at the young age of twenty-one. She was ten years older than him, working in a bordello Tommy insisted on staying at for the night during one of their hunts. Joel was hesitant at first, but quickly found his footing once he spotted her across the room. She had dark skin, rich, brown eyes, and a figure like he’d never seen before. He was already hooked then, but once their visits grew more frequent, he realized it was more than just a drunken lust he felt for the woman. He loved her. And when she fell pregnant with his child, Joel took her down to the town church and married her before riding off again to go on his next hunt. He only saw her two more times before Sarah came, and then she was gone.

Joel tried to go back to his old life, but found it difficult to do what he needed to do with a baby in tow. The boys settled down in Utah for a while, but Tommy’s antics at the local saloon had them packing up and heading west to California. Tommy had some luck there panning for gold, but just as quickly as the last time, he got into a brawl and the three of them were forced back on the road. It went like this for a while, up until just a few months ago when they were talked out of moving out of their old family ranch by a wealthy man looking to buy it for a handsome sum, the money too appealing for Joel to decline.

That’s how they ended up here in the Middle of Nowhere, Texas.

Joel liked it here. It was quiet, there wasn’t any trouble, and everyone seemed to have an understanding that this place was for families, somewhere safe to keep your children in the midst of all this shooting and debauchery. Joel wanted to stay here, but there was a nagging voice every time he looked over at his reckless younger brother that told him it was only a matter of time before they’d have to pack it all up again and run off. He hoped this time, Tommy would learn his lesson.

“Daddy, can I go look at the flowers?” Sarah chimed as they reached the booming Main Street, her little finger pointing at a flower cart.

“Yeah, but don’t go runnin’ off too far,” he said, keeping a watchful eye on her as she skipped towards the daisies.

“I’m gonna go see about that wheelbarrow,” Tommy said, nudging his head in the direction of an old man’s roadside stand of junk.

“Anything that keeps you outta the saloon,” Joel said, his eyes still locked on his daughter as she chatted the ear off of the older woman selling flowers.

“Robert, you better stay out of there!”

Joel’s attention was turned in the direction of a faintly familiar voice calling down the street. There he spotted Dorothea, surrounded by five boys ranging from Sarah’s age to somewhere around her own. The eldest looking boy, Robert he assumed, waved her off as he continued ahead of them into the saloon and bordello, leaving her fuming as she tried to corral the three youngest to follow her while the second oldest followed in his brother’s footsteps.

“Dottie, look! It’s Sarah!” the youngest squealed, his finger pointing down the road at Sarah who was getting a flower pinned in her curls. “Can I go say hi?”

“Yeah, just stay where I can see ya,” she said, watching as all three boys ran off in Sarah’s direction.

Joel cleared his throat as he felt obligated to go over and say hello, but Dorothea spotted him first and gave him a polite nod from down the road before turning to head into the general store. A strange pang of disappointment hit him in the chest at her lack of interaction, but he quickly reminded himself that he didn’t want the responsibility of a friend. He had enough on his plate with his ranch, his daughter, and his brother.

“Daddy,” Sarah came strolling back over hand in hand with Dorothea’s youngest brother, both of them smiling cheekily. “This is my boyfriend, James.”

“Boyfriend, huh?” Joel gave the boy a playful once over and shook his head in feigned disapproval. “How about a boy friend?”

“Daddy,” she pouted and fixed a stern look on her face that looked every bit her mother.

“Alright, James, but I expect you to respect my daughter,” he said, playfully wagging his finger in the little boy’s face and poking his nose, earning a giggle.

“Yes, sir,” James smiled. “I think Sarah’s the love of my life.”

“Love of your life?” Joel asked, resting a hand on his hip. “You ain’t lived much life, son.”

“Six years of it,” he countered.

“Six years a long time to you?” Joel continued with a smile.

“Yeah. It’s my entire life,” the boy quipped, pulling a laugh out of Joel.

“I guess you’re right,” Joel chuckled. “Long as you treat her right, we ain’t gonna have a problem.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Those your brothers?” Joel nudged his chin in the direction of the two slightly older boys, one of them chasing the other with a flower he’d plucked from the lady’s cart.

“Yes, sir,” James nodded. “Ed and Bo.”

“And the other two?”

“Robert and Paul,” James said. “But they’re mean.”

“Yeah? They mean to you?” James nodded. Joel smiled and squatted down to be eye level with him. “Let me ask ya somethin’. One day, you’re gonna be big enough to be mean right back to ‘em,” James nodded. “That somethin’ you’re looking forward to?”

“No,” James shook his head.

“No? Why not?”

“I don’t like bein’ mean,” James said, shrugging his shoulders.

“Good answer,” Joel smiled. “I don’t want my daughter with somebody mean.”

“Boys! Come help me with these groceries!” Dorothea called from the shop, her eyes flickering to Joel as he stood up and turned to look at her. “They ain’t botherin’ y’all, are they?”

“No, ma’am,” he said, tipping the brim of his cowboy hat at her.

“Lord almighty, she’s a fine lookin’ woman,” Tommy appeared next to Joel, earning a stern glare from his older brother.

“She’s off limits,” James said, his own face scrunching up. “My daddy said so.”

“Well, your daddy hasn’t met me yet,” Tommy smiled. “She got a boyfriend?”

“No,” James replied defensively. “And she don’t want one neither.”

“What about a friend?” Tommy persisted.

“I’m her friend,” he said, crossing his little arms over his chest.

“Did you get the wheelbarrow?” Joel asked, desperate to stop his brother’s back and forth.

“Yep,” Tommy nodded.

“Good, now go on and use it. We need fire wood,” Joel said, tipping his chin towards the hardware store. Tommy sighed and did as his brother commanded while Joel urged both Sarah and James off towards the general store to pick up their weekly groceries.

“Daddy, can we get some blueberries to make another pie?” Sarah asked, pointing ahead at a pint of blueberries sitting on the table in the middle of the store along with the rest of this week’s harvest.

“I didn’t make the pie, baby,” he said. “Don’t know what else we’ll need.”

“Y’all talkin’ about my pie?” Dorothea asked, offering a smile to Sarah as she walked over holding a basket of fruit in her hand while her younger brothers carried the rest of the haul.

“You made it?” Sarah asked with delight.

“Yes, ma’am, I did,” Dorothea nodded. “You want the recipe?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Sarah smiled. “I’ll make my daddy teach me.”

“Is your daddy good at bakin’?” Dorothea chuckled, glancing over at Joel who watched her carefully.

“No,” Sarah frowned.

“No, he doesn’t look the part,” she smirked at him, watching as a subtle blush grew on his cheeks. “Well, maybe I could come and teach you since your daddy ain’t so good.”

“Daddy, can she?” Sarah asked, tugging on her fathers arm.

Joel looked down at his wide eyed daughter and felt affection bloom in his chest for her, immediately caving in to her request. “Sure, baby girl.”

“Alright, you want me to show you what you need?” Dorothea spoke to Joel, bringing his eyes back to hers.

“Yes, ma’am,” Joel nodded, gesturing at her to lead the way.

“Gonna need flour, y’all got that at home?” Joel nodded. “Butter?” Another nod. “How ‘bout milk?”

“We got our own cows,” he said.

“Looks like y’all ain’t gonna need much, then,” she smiled. “All’s left is some blueberries, a lemon, some sugar, and…I think that’s it.”

“You think?” Joel teased, quirking an eyebrow at her.

“I know,” she corrected herself with a smirk. “I’ll come by tomorrow afternoon, if that’s alright by y’all.”

“Sounds alright with me,” Joel smiled. “I’ll make sure Tommy ain’t around to bother ya.”

“Oh, you ain’t gotta worry about him. I think he’s kinda sweet…in his own special way,” she shrugged. Joel lifted his eyebrows in surprise at the jealousy that sparked inside him at the thought of Tommy and her together.

As if on cue, Tommy walked in, his eyes scanning the room until he spotted the three of them.

“Well if it ain’t Miss Dorothy,” he grinned.

“Dorothea,” James corrected from the counter as he scooped up the final sack of groceries.

“My apologies,” Tommy smirked. “Guess I’ll have to spend more time around ya. Get the name to stick.”

“Alright,” Joel rolled his eyes and patted Sarah on the shoulder, guiding her towards the counter to pay for their hail. “We’ll see ya tomorrow, then, Dorothea. Bring that James with ya if ya want. Word is him and Sarah are in love. I’d hate to come between that.”

Dorothea giggled and nodded. “That’d be a crime, now, wouldn’t it?”

“You’re comin’ by tomorrow?” Tommy asked, leaning against the counter.

“Yes, sir,” Dorothea nodded. “Showin’ your niece how to make my famous blueberry pie.”

“Got room for one more student?” he asked. “I’ve been meanin’ to learn how t’ bake.”

“Oh, have you now?” she giggled. “I suppose you can join us, long as you pay attention.”

“I’m gonna be payin’ attention, alright,” he smiled. “Have a good day, now, Dorothy.”

“Dorothe—“ She stopped herself from correcting him again once she realized he was now doing it on purpose, her head shaking as she smiled at him. “How ‘bout you just call me “Miss” from now on? Can’t get that wrong, can ya?”

“Ain’t no fun in that,” he smiled. “I’ll get it one ‘a these days.”

“I’m sure you will,” she rolled her eyes before looking to Joel. “See ya, Joel.”

Joel tipped his hat at her and watched her walk off back down the long road headed towards her ranch, her horde of brothers following closely behind.

“You gotta mess with her?” Joel asked Tommy as he pulled out a few notes and handed it to the clerk.

“Least she’s a nice woman,” Tommy reasoned. “Could be goin’ after one of my women at the bordello like you—“

“Watch it,” Joel warned seriously, no trace of amusement in his eyes as they flickered to an oblivious Sarah. “That mouth’s gonna get you in trouble, Tommy. One ‘a these days someone’s gonna come along and do somethin’ about it.”

“They already tried,” Tommy chuckled. “I’ll take my chances.”

Joel only shook his head as he led the three of them out of the store, Tommy’s hands busied by the wheelbarrow hauling lumber while Joel carried their bag of groceries and Sarah worked on the lollipop the cashier handed over to her.

“Dot, come down and help your mama with hangin’ clothes!” Dorothea’s mother, Jessa, called up the staircase of their quaint farmhouse, interrupting her journaling.

“Yes, mama!” she called back, closing her books before making her way downstairs to tug her boots on before entering the mid-morning heat. She joined her mother out in front of the lawn as she sat scrubbing the dirty laundry on her washing board, a few sheets already hung up on the line.

“Thank you, baby,” she said, wiping her brow. “It’s hot out today.”

“It’s been hot out every day,” Dorothea commented. “How’re the crops lookin’?”

“Your daddy don’t bother tellin’ me anymore,” she said. “Half of me wonders if we wouldn’t be better off packin’ up and movin’ west. I hear there’s still plenty gold.”

“Who ya gonna get to mine for it? Daddy’s back can’t take it, and your two eldest don’t seem to care ‘bout nothin’ except goin’ to the saloon.”

“Don’t you wish we had that luxury?” Jessa said with a smirk. “I know I’d like to be able to run off whenever I want and drink the night away.”

“I don’t care much for the drinkin’, but I would like to know what it feels like to do whatever I want whenever I wanna do it,” Dorothea replied. “Instead we gotta ask permission anytime we wanna leave the house. Makes ya sad if you think about it too much.”

“I’ll tell you somethin’,” Jessa locked eyes with her daughter. “You ever feel like sneakin’ off for a night—maybe go see a pretty boy—you can count on me t’keep your secret. Long as ya tell me, I’ll watch out for ya.”

“You gonna lie to daddy for me?” Dorothea giggled.

“Lord knows I’ve done worse things.”

Dorothea quirked an eyebrow at her mother, smirking in interest.

Jessa ignored her daughter’s curiosity. “So this mean there’s a boy?”

“No,” Dorothea shook her head. “Not yet, at least.”

“Come on, now,” Jessa smiled.

“James’ new friend, Sarah, has an uncle,” she shrugged. “He seems interested.”

“But you ain’t?”

“I don’t know, mama,” she blushed. “He’s fine and all, but…he ain’t really what I’m lookin’ for.”

“Why’s that?”

“He talks too much,” Dorothea replied, earning a hearty laugh from her mother.

“You’re just like me, ain’t ya?”

“Sarah’s dad, however—“

“Dad? How old is he?” Jessa furrowed his brows.

“He doesn’t look much older than me,” she replied. “But he’s quieter. Doesn’t talk unless he has to. And he was sweet with James,” she said. “Thought it was cute.”

“But he ain’t interested in you like the brother is?” Jessa asked.

“I don’t think so,” she said, grabbing the last piece of wet clothing from her mother’s hands and wringing it out before hanging it on the line. “Either way, I don’t foresee any sneakin’ out in my future.”

“A little sneakin’ out would do you some good,” Jessa argued. “You’re too well behaved for your own good.”

“Someone’s gotta be,” she smiled and nudged her head in the direction of the house. “Alright, I gotta go change.”

“Where you off to?”

“Helpin’ Sarah make a pie,” she said.

“Mmhm,” Jessa smirked. “Well tell the uncle and the daddy I said hello.”

“Sure, mama,” she smiled back knowingly before skipping off to the house.

“There she is,” Tommy chimed as Dorothea walked up the steps of the porch, a sweet tea in his hand as he leaned against the doorframe.

“Where’s my student?” Dorothea smirked, tilting her head at him.

“Right here,” he said, gesturing at himself. “Ready to learn.”

“I meant my promisin’ student,” she countered, bringing a grin to his face.

“She’s out back with her daddy,” he said, tipping his head back towards the house. “But we could get started without her.”

“I’m sure you’d like that,” she chuckled. “I’m gonna go find her.”

“I’ll be right here,” he drawled, watching her as she walked down the steps and rounded the corner of the house.

Out back, she was met with the sight of Sarah filling the pigs trough full of scraps while her father brushed the mane of a chestnut horse, his white shirt pulling taut across the breadth of his shoulders.

“Hey, y’all,” she announced herself, drawing both pairs of eyes to hers.

“Dorothea!” Sarah chimed, abandoning her work at the pig pen to come skipping over. “Time for pie?”

“Yes, ma’am,” she smiled, her eyes trailing from the little girl in front of her to her much larger father as he walked over, his blue jeans clinging to his legs as if they were painted on.

“Miss Dorothea,” he tipped his hat at her. “You come to take this trouble maker off my hands?”

“You causin’ trouble?” Dorothea asked, looking back to the six year old.

“Daddy’s lyin,” she grinned.

“So I got a troublemaker and a liar on my hands,” Dorothea smiled, looking back to Joel. “Ya gonna stay out here, or ya gonna join us inside?”

“Ain’t gonna be much help, I’m afraid,” he smiled.

“You can be our taste-tester,” she shrugged. “And maybe you can keep that brother of yours on a leash. He seems particularly determined today.”

“I apologize for his forwardness,” Joel spoke sincerely. “He thinks he’s smooth ‘cause every woman he’s ever talked to has been eager. He don’t realize it’s ‘cause he paid ‘em to be.”

Dorothea laughed, her brows lifting in shock at the racy nature of his joke.

“I’m sorry,” he said, realizing himself. “Forget I’m talkin’ to a lady.”

“Am I that homely?” she teased. “Maybe I’ll wear my best dress next time. Get Tommy to remember my name and you to remember you’re talkin’ to a woman.”

“Yeah, daddy,” Sarah scolded. “Where’s your manners?”

“I must’a lost ‘em,” he joked.

“Well, me and Dottie’ll help you find ‘em,” she sassed, grabbing Dorothea’s hand and dragging her along back to the house, Joel smiling to himself as he followed them.

“So, cows, a horse, pigs…looks like you’ve got yourself a ranch,” she said, looking behind her as Sarah continued tugging her along.

“Yep,” he agreed.

“You don’t talk much, do ya?”

“Try not to,” he said.

“Any reason?”

“Find people like me a little better when I keep my mouth shut,” he replied, earning another laugh.

“Someone must’a trained you right,” she joked. “Tommy on the other hand—“

“Y’all talkin’ ‘bout me?” Tommy spoke from the porch as the three of them ascended the steps. “Good things, I hope.”

“Hope is a dangerous thing,” Dorothea quipped, earning a chuckle from Joel, the sound drawing her eyes away from Tommy and over to him.

“I don’t get it,” Tommy said, smiling even though his brows were drawn together.

“Nevermind, let’s just get workin’,” Dorothea said, gesturing for him to lead the way.

“He ain’t too clever,” Joel leaned over Dorothea’s shoulder as they filtered inside, whispering to her, and she would’ve laughed if she hadn’t been so caught off guard by his proximity.

“You know anythin’ ‘bout makin’ a carrot cake? My mama used to make the best, and I haven’t found anythin’ quite as good since,” Tommy called from the kitchen as Dorothea remained frozen in the entryway, her eyes watching Joel as he squeezed past her to join his brother and daughter inside the small kitchen. “You hear me?”

“Yeah, sorry,” Dorothea cleared her head and composed herself as she walked in to join them. “Carrot cake, ya said? I don’t think I’ve ever made one.”

“Well, you had to have a flaw,” Tommy drawled.

“I’ve got a few,” she countered.

“Like what?”

“I’m very particular,” she replied.

“‘Bout what?”

“I like the quiet,” she said, smirking at him. “And I get real bossy.”

“I can shut up,” he said. “And I can follow orders.”

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” Joel groaned, sitting down at their round dinner table.

“Alright, then, if you’re so good at shuttin’ up and followin’ orders, how ‘bout you go sit down and stay quiet while me and Sarah get to work.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Tommy grinned, walking over to the table by the window to sit with his brother while Dorothea and Sarah got to work. “She likes me.”

“She hates you,” Joel corrected.

“What d’you know about women, huh? When’s the last time you talked to somethin’ as pretty as that?”

“Just a few minutes ago in the yard,” he said, lifting an eyebrow to signal his victory.

“You think she likes talkin’ to you anymore than me?” Tommy asked with a smug smile. “I can’t imagine how crazy someone’d have to be to find you interestin’. All you do is take care ‘a the ranch and complain.”

“I didn’t say she liked talkin’ t’me,” Joel shrugged. “Just that we talked.”

“Yeah, well, leave the talkin’ to me,” Tommy said. “I’ll have me a wife come winter, you’ll see.”

“She ain’t gonna marry you,” Joel chuckled.

“Why not?”

“You ain’t committed to nothin’ but causin’ trouble,” he said. “No amount ‘a pretty’s gonna change ya that quick.”

“Well,” Dorothea smiled across the table at Joel as he hauled a bite of her and Sarah’s creation into his mouth, Tommy long gone and out at the saloon while Sarah laid in the living room fast asleep from two thick slices of pie. “Any good?”

“Ya know it’s good,” he said, flickering his eyes at her before dropping them back to his plate.

“Is it always like pullin’ teeth with you?” Joel furrowed his brows as he looked at her again. “Givin’ a sincere compliment?”

“It was sincere,” he said.

“Guess I’m expectin’ somethin’ more like Tommy’s reaction.”

“What, fallin’ to my knees?” he joked, cracking a half smirk. “My knees are busted. I’ll have to praise you from my seat.”

“You and him are so different,” she commented, watching him as he ate. “He’s…wild. Too wild. Reminds me of my two brothers.”

“The ones who went into that…establishment?” he asked, wiping his mouth on a scrap of cloth he’d fashioned into a napkin.

“Yeah, them two,” she nodded. “You ever…been to one ‘em?”

Joel froze a bit, his hand pausing as he lifted a glass of milk to his mouth for a sip. “You askin’ me—“

“I just wanna know what they’re like,” she shrugged. “What they do.”

“You’re better off not knowin’.”

“Well, the men always seem to leave happy,” she said.

“They sure do,” he blushed and brought his cup the rest of the way to his lips, taking a swig before setting it down. “But I ain’t completely sure if that’s somethin’ you need’a know about.”

“Why is it that you boys get’a have all this fun and us girls are supposed to stay home and bake pies, sit and wonder what y’all are doin? What if I wanted to go into a bordello?”

“I ain’t sure it’s they’d know what t’do with ya,” he chuckled.

“Is it—are they…makin’ love?” she whispered the last line, causing Joel to choke on his bite, his fist pounding against his chest to clear it.

“I—“ He shook his head, lost for what to say. “I don’t know that I’d call it that.”

“But they are…sleepin’ together?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “But they ain’t doin’ no sleepin’.”

“And that’s where Tommy ran off to?”

Joel hesitated for a moment but nodded.

“Well, then I know for certain I don’t want him,” she said, looking at her plate.

“You don’t like…those kinda men?” he asked, recalling his own past.

“I don’t like men who get around,” she clarified. “If a man wants me, I better be the only one. But so far, I haven’t met a man willin’ to hang up his hat.”

“They’ll grow outta it,” he said.

“Did you?” she asked, knocking his boot under the table with hers.

“I had my day,” he said, locking eyes with her. “Sarah’s mom—she, uh—I met her in one of those…places.”

“But you married her.”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Never liked two-timin’.”

“Well, there’s still hope to be had, then,” she smiled. “Just hope I’m still young and pretty by the time these boys decide t’grow up.”

“How old are you?” he asked, leaning back in his chair.

“I’ll be twenty-five on Christmas,” she said.

“Christmas, huh?”

“Yeah, makes it easy on my mama and daddy,” she joked. “What about you?”

“Twenty-eight,” he replied. “Twenty-nine in September.”

“Birthday just passed, then,” she said. “I’ll have t’bake you a belated birthday cake.”

“You tryin’ to win me over with food?” he flirted, just to test the waters.

“I didn’t know I was tryin’ to win you over,” she smiled.

“I wouldn’t mind if you did.”

“Your brother would,” she countered.

“Yeah,” he shrugged.

Dorothea sat there watching him with a smile, searching his eyes for any sign of a cruel joke being played on her but found none. Even still, she wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do in this sort of situation. She’d been flirted with for half her life, but was never interested enough to flirt back. Until now.

“I guess I should be goin’ off,” she said, swallowing her feelings for the man in front of her out of sheer fear of falling flat on her face.

“You gonna get home alright?” he asked, standing up when she stood to carry her plate to the sink. “Could take the horse.”

“No, I’m alright,” she assured with a smile, turning around to find Joel right in front of her, his chin tipped downwards as she looked up into his molasses brown eyes. Though she remained breathless, she couldn’t help but let out an airy chuckle as she lifted her hand to press it against the firm wall of his chest. She didn’t push him away, she simply rested it over his heartbeat to feel for a similar rhythm to her own. “You’re awfully close.”

“Would’ya like me to step back?” he asked, his eyes darting across her features, admiring the curve of her button nose.

“No,” she replied, what was supposed to be playful turning into a whisper as she watched tongue peek out and swipe over his bottom lip. She couldn’t help herself but to want to trace the line, too, her hand raising to rest over his bearded jaw while her thumb ghosted across the bow of his lip. “Never kissed anybody before, y’ know that?”

“S’easier than you’d think,” he whispered back, leaning down to slowly fill the gap between their lips, Dorothea’s eyes fluttering shut as she splayed her hand over his cheek while the other lifted to bury her fingers in his curls.

Joel hummed into the kiss as his lips landed against the pillowy softness of her pout, his chest pressing to hers as he pressed her into the counter behind her, his hands gripping the edge of the rustic wood.

Dorothea’s brows laced together as she tried to keep her head above water in this sea of him. He tasted like the pie she spent all afternoon baking and a little bit of whiskey, the warmth of both heating her skin up as she melted into him.

“Daddy,” Sarah called from the other room, her tiny voice thick with sleep. Joel pulled back first, leaving Dorothea to chase his lips with her eyes still shut. He smiled at the sight and leaned forward to kiss her forehead, pulling her out of her haze.

“I gotta go take her t’bed,” he whispered, his voice raspy in her ear as his lips came to rest there. “Wait for me.”

Dorothea couldn’t speak, her olive colored cheeks turning a shade of red as she watched him walk back and out of the room, his voice soft as he spoke to his daughter, scooping her up in his arms and carrying her down the hall

She stood there resting against the counter, her hand resting on her heated cheeks, smiling at the wood beneath her feet.

Was this what it felt like to want somebody? Did it always feel this good? A blood rush to the head?

Joel found his way back into the living room a few minutes later, finding her in that same spot, still spinning over his touch.

“I…hope that was alright,” he said, seemingly catching her by surprise, her eyes jumping away from the floor to meet his. “I hope I didn’t…assume—“

“I think ya did, just a little bit, but that’s alright,” she smiled, walking over to meet him in the middle of the room, her hands sliding over his chest to loop around his neck. “You assumed right.”

“Tommy ain’t gonna like this,” Joel warned, resting his hands on the small of her back.

“He doesn’t got any claim over me,” she replied, her eyes flickering back to his mouth. “Y’know, your lips are softer than they look.”

“That supposed t’be a compliment?” he smiled and she nodded. “Well, thank ya, ma’am.”

“I like when you call me that,” she grinned. “When you use those southern manners.”

“Yeah?” he grinned back, leaning down to brush his lips over hers. “You like when I’m quiet and polite?”

She laughed softly and nodded, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “Like that you know when to talk and when to shut up.”

“Then I’ll shut up now,” he said, smiling into the kiss as he squeezed her closer, his tongue swiping across her bottom lip before grazing the tip of her tongue. Dorothea moaned into the kiss, the sound causing Joel to short circuit and pull away, his forehead resting against hers. “You gotta go home.”

“Yeah,” she nodded, still breathless.

“Come see me tomorrow, if you got the time,” he said, pulling back to comb his hand through her brown waves as they hung loosely down her shoulder and back.

“I’ll see if I can sneak off,” she grinned, stepping back from his embrace to walk out the front door to his porch.

“I’ll see ya,” she said, biting her lip as she turned on her heel to walk down the steps of his porch.

“Bye, Dorothea,” he smiled to himself, tucking his hands in his pockets and leaning against the doorframe as he watched her frame get tinier and tinier as she walked down the long, dirt road until she disappeared out of view, taking the sunshine with her.

[gortashs-skidmark]

something nasty bc there’s not enough gorty content.

Gort’s Big Jork

Enver Gortash x Tav (GN) NSFW!! MNDI! 18+ Content!

Description: Gort jorks it to Tav. Using a Scrying Eye spying system seen in the game.

Spoilers for Act 2 and a little 3

Content Warning: Jorkin’ it idk, masturbating (male), tried to make it smutty, spying on tav, he’s an ass man.

!! Gender Neutral Anatomy. No Male or Female parts explicitly mentioned, bc you bitches always make it afab, it’s much hotter and inclusive when it’s GN descriptions !!

Gort needs to fuck. I’ve never ever written fanfiction before but in desperate need of him. If there are errors comment below and I’ll fix them if I know how. Also Gort is kinda gross in this bc if he can’t tie his own shirt or brush his yellow teeth, he’s not gonna care in this.

𐌄𐌍ᕓ𐌄𐌓ᏵꝊ𐌓𐌕𐌀𐌔𐋅𐌄𐌍ᕓ𐌄𐌓ᏵꝊ𐌓𐌕𐌀𐌔𐋅𐌄𐌍ᕓ𐌄𐌓ᏵꝊ𐌓𐌕𐌀𐌔𐋅

This monitorial invention of his, mounted on the wall in front of him, glowed filling the room with a striking blue hue. Flickering as his living cameras moved on the other side. Everything he could see of his plans in-action filled his view. A few, showed a black screens, in turn reflecting his raw image. The Goblin Camp had been struck to its knees and his few scrying eyes along with it.

He stood with his arms crossed, the rest of his body portrayed in a confident relaxed position. He stood behind a cushiony chair. Gortash could sit, but he didn’t have a lot of time to throw away, staring at the blue-ish shade thrown over Moonrise’s walls. Watching his acolytes pick their noses when they thought no one was watching.

He hadn’t expected Tav to make it into Moonrise, much less with the same company as before. Through Duegar guarding the elevator, and hostile Githyanki ripping through anyone who may have the artefact he sought after, who would have guessed? This may prove a problem if they can slash through just anyone.

Gortash took a deep breath, in through his mouth, out through his nose, tipping his head down without his eyes leaving the screen. He studied Tav through his scrying eye monitors, up and down the eye thoughtlessly followed the miscreant.

He couldn’t help but admire them, truly, and foolishly. They had put themselves through the thick of it, and still landed where it hurt Gortash’s plans the most. They made it to the Shadowlands, blessed by Selûne, and dusted by pixies. How utterly lucky. Unravaged by the Shadowfell, and their brains still have enough holes in it to step into Ketheric’s territory.

He felt his breath quicken and his upper lip curl in disgust. Sheer luck on their side. Never on his. His thoughts were upsetting. By Jergal’s Blessing it shouldn’t be this easy. He had to be a genius and a cunt to make it to his place in the world.

His chest rose up and down unsteadily. His loosely folded arms, now gripped the top of the cushioned chair mercilessly. He hadn’t worn his gold threaded attire, instead in a soft set of navy blue pantaloons and a threaded black blouse. Still his forearm held the stone upon a Gauntlet, he never took it off. It was night-time across Wyrm’s Crossing, his home. He didn’t sleep when the sun went down and the stars came up. He couldn’t sleep now, knowing this hero slipped through his fingers like sand.

Gortash would feel no failure. Bane would see no failure. It was his flawed compatriots with ambitious gods who would fall fast. faster. And he would suffer the consequences of their own failure. This hero, broad backed, snatched waist, adorned in dented armor, a raw frazzled state they were in from the journey there. Blood crusted on the side on their face, on their boots, on their back, on their chest, in the hair of their brow. Maddening. Almost carnal lust took over.

No. No no no no no. No.

Gortash was panting now, a bitch in heat he was. His black shirt clung to his back, sweat started to run down his under arms. It was hot in the room. His pantaloons felt three sizes too small. The fabric was irritating and raw. It was dizzying.

He shakily, slowly, defeatedly, sat himself down, his eyes hadn’t left the screen once since Tav arrived. The scrying eye lowly followed them still, the reflection on the screen gave Enver a whopping view of their ass. Their thighs, large enough to crush his head between them. Their gait, clearly guarded, but their ass still bulging back and forth, left leg, right leg, through their pants as they walked.

Enver needed relief, from the heat, the stress, the dizziness, the itching worry in the back of his mind, possibly even from Bane’s trust. He didn’t want to see how his body betrayed him, he didn’t let Tav leave his sights still as his hands moved downwards to the strings of his navy pants hurriedly. His fingers nearly getting caught every time he loosened one side of the strings. He lifted his hips, thumbs tucking into the sides of his hips and pushing down his pants, to above his knees. He didn’t wear underwear, he didn’t need to. Not when he only could catch moments like these to have to himself.

He sat his tush on the seat again, breathing through his mouth. He couldn’t get enough oxygen, uneven breaths. His tongue was starting to feel dry as he pushed the tip of it against the roof of his mouth in concentration. His right hand, slightly obscured by his gold gauntlet and pointed fingers, gripped his half-hard on that was peaking through his foreskin. He held it, just holding it at the base as his mind emptied any thoughts of his next steps in his plans. He only saw Tav.

The veins decorating the underside of his cock pulsed under his fingers. He was getting harder the longer he stared at Tav’s ass. His jaw shifted tensely from side to side. What he wouldn’t do to tie, bend, and break them in his presence at this moment--Their ass shook, they were laughing. At something he didn’t care to bother figuring out. Any limpness in his cock was gone as it erected up right and curved towards his stomach slightly. It was painfully red, contrasting the darker base.

He could imagine their lower back tensing as they laughed. He gave his base a squeeze. A low airy sound pushed out of him. Pre-cum oozed out of his ever-reddening tip. He started to stroke, slow and controlled. From the base, to just before the tip. His breathing slowed, he felt like he had control again but lost it all at the same time. Only in this moment did Tav and his needy cock matter.

Enver slightly lifted his hips, thrusting- rutting into his hold on his member. Curving his hips up by inches and down by inches. Over and over in a slow aching pace. Tav could be attainable. Under the tadpole’s control, he could figure out a way to make them his- his thing.

He stopped his movements, lifted his hand to his mouth, gathered as much spit in his dried mouth as he could muster. A pathetic amount stringing onto his middle and fore finger. He set his hand back down, rubbing it on his cock greedily. He picked his pace again, up and down with his hand, reaching the tip this time.

He released a short huffed sigh, his back twitched- removing his lazy posture from the back of the chair. He was hunched over now, neck angled up to keep his eyes on their body. His eyebrows sewn together, giving a very needy expression towards the screen. Hand picking up the pace, the spit had done a shitty job and dried up too quickly. A tacky feeling left behind in his hand. He once more took as much spit as he could gather in his mouth, he tried, he really did. He removed his eyes from the screen, only a flicker, to spit on his cock. The noise he made from aiming and spitting was pathetic. As fast as he flickered his eyes down, they were back on the screen. The image of his red, bulging veins, irritated dick, precum still headed at the top with unbroken surface tension was burned into his mind to regret later. Or possibly day dream.

His hand didn’t stop pumping. He hummed in desperation, a bit broken. He was getting close and he picked up the pace. He didn’t have the energy to stand up but he didn’t want to cum sitting down, it wasn’t as pleasurable. He stood up and kneeled slowly on the seat, his knees adjusting his pose as he sought most pleasurable. One knee ended up on the chairs base, the other on the arm rest with his hips lifted up right. His dick directed at the screens. One hand gripped the unoccupied arm rest to keep his balance. The chair would leave red indents on his knees after, creaky and sore too.

Wrist tired, eyes widened and daunting the one screen he focused on. His hand focused on his mid to tip area of his cock. Hoping to milk the blood to the tip. Hand thrusting at unattainable speeds were it a real person he fucked into. He whimpered a bit, his eyebrow creasing even more as he let out breathy moans. His whole body quivered with his forearm’s grip and fast movement. His hips jutted forward sensitively as he neared his peak. He tried to keep upright but he lost his balance in the pleasure. He let out gasps and tight moans as he keeled forward. Eyes shut and using his imagination to guide him now.

He was so desperate to release, all that build up. He lifted his eyes once more to his favorite monitor and saw through his purple scrying spy; Tav, who had hunched shoulders and hips positioned forward, pretty veiny hands adorning those hips too. Thumbs dipping into their lower back, and fingers gripping the peak of their hips. Their pelvic bone was prominent, or something to his imagination. They seemed relaxed. They were speaking to some bugbear with trades. A smile on their lightly painted lips, their eyes creating crows feet as they giggled a bit. What he wouldn’t do to see their eyes scrunch up at him and their mouth opening and lips curving from something he did to them.

He couldn’t chase his release any farther. He had chased it to the precipice. His body jerked and his hands kept at it. His cum shot out onto the floor and leaked between his pointer and thumb. His cum was warm, very warm. White flashes and hot cold chills ran through his shoulders and arms as he neared the very end of his orgasm. He nn’ed and mm’ed in a whiny pitch. This was the first time that night he had felt anything close to cold. His pace was slower but still brutal as he milked every white drop he could from the puffy tip. He only ran his fingers to his mid base and tip, the most sensitive area he had. Red and irritated. He could relate to his cock in this moment.

His hips jerked unexpectedly again as he stopped cautiously, slightly overstimulating himself.

He steadied and huffed evenly. Catching his breath, he released a large sigh. His hair draped over his eyes and his side burns clung to his face slightly with sweat. His mouth shut and his lips touched. Breathing through his nose. His hand was sticky, his glove was a mess. Cum seeped between the gold metal and his warm fingers. His drooping member was a mess. He slowly, very slowly, unglued his hand from his dick.

He blinked at the stone floors a couple of times, sighing again. He lifted his head up, looking around him. His neck was stiff and terribly tense from his previous position. He got into the chair, like a normal person. Ass bare against the velvet lined cushion. Looking around for anything he could use to clean up his fingers, at the least.

He stilled as he reached down to pick up a tossed set of destitute clothes from previous prisoners, sitting in a crate beside the wall in front of him. He looked up at the blue lit rectangle where Tav taunted him. Tav was now talking to a devout gnome bent on controlling gnolls through the Absolute, the back of Tav’s thighs and ass still took up much of the screen. It was a relief in some places of his mind that the scrying eye was a one way mirror for him.

Tav is as Tav does.

He just jerked it to some stranger. He was sickened a bit. Though, an important stranger. Ketheric, no matter how immortal, wouldn’t last their stubborn goodwill. Gortash would have a chance to meet them, he was sure of it. Maybe their next meeting shouldn’t be on his mind while he twisted and wrang his fingers from his cum.

This wouldn’t be the last time he saw Tav. He knew it. This wouldn’t be the last time he sought relief in them either.

[kristannafever]

Big Sky Ranch - 4

Kristanna Modern AU Rated: M (this will be EX eventually if that was not clear) WC: 4364

Chapter Index

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

Anna woke to the smell of coffee and bacon.  Her stomach rumbled.

She rolled over with bleary eyes and tapped her phone screen.  It was 6:30 in the morning!  They’d only gone to bed just over four hours ago.  Anna rolled over and prepared to go back to sleep since it was probably Sven anyway.  Kristoff had stayed up later with her and was going to be sore and tired.  He was probably still sleeping and Sven was getting ready for work.

Then whoever was in the kitchen started humming a melody.  Anna’s eyes flew open and she just had to find out for sure.  After hearing that Kristoff could sing, she found herself a little desperate to hear it.

She slipped on her boots and went out into the main room, Kristoff standing at the stove with his back to her.  He was in jeans and shirtless.  It looked bad.  The bruising seemed so much darker than only a handful of hours ago.  She couldn’t imagine how it would look the next morning.  It reminded her that he’d willfully stepped in to take a beating that first time – even though it didn’t happen – because he had noticed that group of assholes was bothering her and her friends.  Then the next time when he was outnumbered, keeping Anna out of harm’s way, getting furious when someone had tagged her while fighting off all the others…

That look on his face.  The protectiveness of it.  And they hardly knew each other.

He continued humming, pushing a wooden spoon around the pan on the stove, and it was beautiful.  Anna suddenly felt a deep urge to actually hear him sing.  Even without words, he could carry a melody that was as sweet as a songbird.  Anna had to take a moment to compose herself, then approached him.

“Hey,” she said, not wanting to sneak up with his back to her.

He looked over his shoulder at her and smiled.  “Mornin’.  Sorry if I woke you.  Early riser and all.”

“It’s okay,” she said, sitting at the kitchen table. 

Kristoff turned away from the stove and plucked the t-shirt he’d been wearing the night before off the back of a kitchen chair and slipped it on.  His movements were clearly careful, the stiffness showing in them.  Then he went to the counter where a mug was sitting beside the coffee maker.  He poured coffee into it and brought it to Anna.  “Cream and sugar?”

“Yes please.”  Anne felt bad again for the beating he’d taken.  The black eye and other bruising now showing all over.   The cut to his lip and brow looked swollen and sore.  It wasn’t something she’d ever really seen on a person up close and personal before, and Anna felt herself a little more drawn to him by it.  It wasn’t that it made him more attractive, it was that it made her attraction to him all the more real. 

He got the cream from the fridge and the little jar of sugar from the cupboard and set it on the table for Anna with a spoon, looking closely as her face as he leaned over.  “Are you okay?  You’ve got some bruising along your jaw.  I imagine that’s none too comfortable.”

Her hand came up and brushed the sore spot there.  It felt a little swollen, but not too bad, considering.  “No, it’s fine.  Like I said, he barely got me.  I was more surprised than anything.”

His mood darkened a minute, his eyes twitching narrower as he looked at her jaw.  Then he seemed to decide something in his mind as he straightened and walked back into the kitchen.  Anna fixed her coffee as Kristoff went back to the stove.

He said, “Hope bacon and eggs is okay.  Sven doesn’t have much else on hand right now.”

“That’s fine,” she responded, eyes wandering over his backside.  The man sure could fill out a pair of jeans.  She worried over his injuries, but it seemed like he was in good spirits, despite the slower movements that indicated that his body had been through it recently.

He snapped the heat off the stove and took the pan over to two plates that had bacon on them already.  He split the scrambled eggs between the two of them and then brought them to the table and took a seat beside Anna with a very slow and deliberate movement.  Anna couldn’t imagine how sore he was feeling.

“So, what do you want to do today?” he asked.

“I don’t know.  What do you do with your time off?”

“The little of it that I get in the spring?”  He shrugged.  “Fishin’.  Read.  Um, play my guitar.”

He looked embarrassed to reference him liking to sing again.  Anna found that adorable.  And she was starting to understand why what she’d said back at the bar had him looking sad.  It was clear to her now that his work was demanding.

“Is it always like that?  Working long hard days?”

His brow furrowed slightly and Anna realized she’d asked out loud what she’d been thinking. 

“No,” he started, then seemed to mull it over as he looked down at his plate to shovel eggs into his mouth.

“I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean-”

He looked up quickly.  “No, it’s okay.  It’s just… sometimes, yeah.  It’s basically dawn until dusk for weeks on end.  But I still come home to my bed every night, and I do get days off.  It’s not like I can’t ever go on a vacation.  All spring and part of the summer though… the beginning of fall… we’re busy as hell.”  He paused a moment, then added, “And it’s not like there isn’t anything to do at all in the winter.  Still gotta tend to the horses and the cattle.  It’s just less busy.”

Anna nodded.  “That makes sense.”  She picked up a piece of bacon off her plate and took a bite.  Perfect crispiness.

“I haven’t really dated much, at all, and most of the women… hell, all of them, have had issue with how unavailable I am at times,” he said, like he was trying to test the waters of what was clearly building between the two of them.  It was written all over his face. 

Anna was truthful. “That doesn’t seem fair.  Didn’t they know what your job is?”

He gave her a long look.  “They did, until I’m on a couple week stretch where I couldn’t take them out on dates or spend any quality time with them, and they were tired of waitin’ I guess.  Or maybe I’m just an asshole, I don’t know.”  He shrugged, looking dejected.  “I usually get dumped pretty quick into a relationship.”

It upset her a bit to hear that.  He was a wonderful man.  There was nothing about him that didn’t seem worth waiting for.  Not to mention if any of those women had bothered to try, they might have been rewarded with his true affections.  Anna was getting the impression that he was one of those simple men, like her father had been.  It wasn’t going to be all fresh cut roses and floofy romantic gestures that didn’t mean anything.  With a man like him, it was going to be true love, the upmost respect, and steadfast devotion.  It would mean loving her the way she had always wanted to be loved.  Nothing flashy about it.  Just being there and supporting her and defending her, something that he had already done.

Wasn’t there plenty of romance novels written about such men?   

Her ex had been the opposite.  He showered her with all kinds of flowers and gifts.  A cover for the fact that he was cheating on her.  Anna knew a man like Kristoff would not come home with a box of chocolates, but he wasn’t going to come back with some other woman’s lipstick on his collar either.  A collar that was as blue as the sky above them.

“I have a feeling those women didn’t know what they were missing,” Anna said quietly, looking into his beautiful brown eyes. 

The hand he had hovering above his plate to put more eggs into this mouth dropped to the table, and the fork clacked to the ceramic, spilling eggs onto the tabletop.  He leaned back in his chair, giving her a look.  “Do you feel this?” he asked pointedly.  “Like I feel this?”

Anna knew exactly what he meant.  “Yes, I do.”

He pursed his lips, mulling it over a moment.  “All in due course though.”

She smiled.  What a man!  He was admitting his vulnerability because he knew that Anna would have her own as well. “Yes.  I would appreciate that.”

He gave her a single nod.  “Alright then.”

*****

Kristoff had to admit to Anna he was too sore to walk all the way to his cabin, and since she didn’t know how to ride a horse, they took one of the quads.  Anna sat behind him hugging his torso and Kristoff enjoyed every moment of that ride, even if it was hell on his sore body.

The log cabin was over a hundred years old, built by the current owner’s great-great-great grandfather when they’d first settled in the area.  It was their first house on the ranch, then when they expanded and swallowed up some of the other smaller farms in the area, they moved to the northern side where the well water was better and there was then the first access to electricity.  The old cabin was used as ranching quarters for many years until the three small houses near the main house were added in the late 1950s.

It had remained empty ever since then, deteriorating in the elements over time.  When Kristoff was just a young man, learning the ropes, they’d been tasked with taking it down.  As soon as Kristoff set foot in the place, he felt a sort of calling, and asked the owner that if he supplied the materials, Kristoff would do all the repairs when he was off the clock if he was allowed to live in it.  That way, a part of the history of the ranch could be preserved.

It took two years.  Mostly on his own but plenty of help from Sven as well.  They brought in plumbing and electric, replaced the rotting floor, pulled the entire dilapidated roof off and rebuilt it with insulation and proper venting, new doors, new windows, and they brought the small kitchen up to date and expanded it with an island lined with four bar stools.

Kristoff had never been prouder of anything in his life and he was graciously allowed to live there and make it his own. 

He parked the quad beside his personal truck and they walked up the steps to the front porch and Kristoff let her inside, telling her all about the old cabin.  Anna seemed to really like his space.  She asked him all kinds of questions and wandered around looking at everything.  Kristoff wasn’t sure why that put such a smile on his face.  Maybe because most of the other ladies he’d shown it to just didn’t understand why he’d been so proud to live in the old tiny cabin, or how he could live without a television.

There was only the one bedroom and Kristoff showed it to her, a little embarrassed that he never bothered to make the bed.  If Anna cared that it was messy, she never showed it. 

They walked back into the main room and stood in the middle between the kitchen and the couches.    “It’s very nice, Kristoff,” she said.  “I don’t know why, but this really suits you.”

“Yeah?” he asked, wondering where the hell this woman had been all his life.

“I notice you don’t have a TV.  Somehow that doesn’t surprise me.”

He laughed at that.  “Really?  No one else can seem to figure that one out.  Even Sven and the other guys.”

“Well,” she said, walking over to the threadbare sofa and sitting down, “I noticed all the books.  And you said you liked to play the guitar.  And sing.”

That made him blush again as he sat on the lounge chair facing her. 

“Plus, you work hard,” she continued, “and clearly you like to play hard.  And do things like go fishing.  So what does TV really offer you that everything else can’t.”

He shook his head in disbelief.  “Exactly.  If I want to catch a game, I’ll go to a sports bar or watch it at Sven’s.  Nothing else has ever really interested me.”

Anna nodded with a bit of a sheepish smile.  “I have to admit there’s a couple of shows I’m currently addicted to.”

“I’d get a TV if you wanted one.”  His eyes went wide.  He had not meant to say that.  It surprised him actually, how easily that just came out.

Anna regarded him closely for a moment.  Then she gave him a playful shrug.  “All in due course, right?  Who knows, things might change.”

It was his turn to let out a slow breath.  Shit, this was intense.  He’d never felt anything even remotely close to this before.  It was electric.  And exciting. 

*****

They lounged on a thick wool blanket on a grassy bank overlooking the small river that was more like a big creek, only a few meters from Kristoff’s cabin.  Anna found it tranquil as she sat with her grip on a fishing rod with a weighted line sitting in the slow-moving water.  He’d set it up for her and shown her what to do if she felt a pull.  So far, she hadn’t yet.

He said he was up for anything, only Anna knew his body was saying otherwise.  She suggesting hanging around his place and showing her around until he was tired of her and wanted to take her back to her car.  He told her such a thing was impossible, and he would take to her car anyway when she was ready to go home.

They talked about anything and everything, getting to know each other better, as they ate a type of picnic that Kristoff had packed for them.  Nibbling on the simple deli ham and slices of cheddar on saltine crackers wasn’t exactly like the charcuterie boards she’d enjoyed when she lived in the city, but it meant a whole hell of a lot more to her.

She looked down at him where he lay on the blanket beside her, his eyes closed to the high noon sun.  Despite the black eye and the other injuries, he was still undeniably beautiful, accentuated by the constant gentle smile he had as they talked.  Looking at his face, Anna started to notice faint scars here and there, and she wondered if the wounds from the night before would turn into any of them.  Clearly, he’d been through things, living a hard ranching life.  Not to mention she doubted that fight was his first.

As they chatted idly, Anna started to wonder how being with someone could feel so instantly comfortable.  It was like they’d known each other for years.  And yet, there were parts of him that seemed closed off.  Guarded in a way that suggested he’d been hurt in the past, making her wonder again why that hurt had come in the first place.

Anna had meant it when she said that she felt what Kristoff was feeling, and it was literally turning her entire world upside down.

Would being with him be as lonely at times as he had suggested it might be?  Anna suddenly imagined him coming home well after sunset, sitting down to a dinner she had kept warm for him from eating alone hours before.  Then him being too tired to do anything else besides kiss her and fall asleep at her side.

She thought back again to how things had been with her ex.  Was being with him really so different?  She had eaten plenty of meals on her own when he’d worked late.  She’d even spent plenty of weekends alone when he was off to some destination or another for business conferences.  Even if he called and texted her all the time, making her feel like he was more than a presence in her life than he truly was, he was still absent.  And on the other hand, Anna knew Kristoff would not have time for such nonsense, leaving her wondering after him, knowing that she was not going to get a call or a text.  Just left waiting.  Knowing he will come home, but not when.

And where would that leave her in terms of work?  Driving all that way to the diner every morning?  She learned that Sven’s fiancé Dixie was moving in with Sven when she returned from a rodeo circuit – she was a barrel racer and earned her keep that way – her place on the ranch, when she was there, would be much different.  Maybe they’d even offer her an off-season job.  Anna had barely even seen a horse in real life, let alone ridden one. 

She had told Kristoff that she didn’t think those other women knew what they were missing, and she had meant it.  Only now she wondered if they were perhaps seeing something that she wasn’t.  She refused to believe what Kristoff had said about thinking himself an asshole.  He had not shown her anything that suggested anything of the sort.  And yet, he said he was always being broken up with.  Was it the ranch?  Was it his work?  Was it something else?

This life was so foreign to her.   The future, so uncertain.  Part of her could picture it as clear as day, and the other part worried if she would be happy with the sacrifice it meant to be with Kristoff.  Could she ever really belong in this world?

Those thoughts made her feel like a piece of shit.  He’d come right out and told her that he struggled because the women he’d dated didn’t understand his lifestyle, and Anna was worried she might eventually become one of them.  She did need attention, having spent a lot of her childhood without it.  Would the attention she did get, be enough?

Anna realized she was lost in her own thoughts and Kristoff hadn’t said anything in while.  Leaning over and looking closer at him, she saw that he’d fallen asleep.  Even with all the bruising on his gorgeous face, he looked peaceful.

She shook her head.  She had no business thinking and worrying about such things when they’d only just met each other.   He was the most wonderful man she’d ever met and she was deeply attracted to him, and that was all that mattered.  The rest would come. 

All in due course.

*****

Kristoff drove back to his cabin feeling a little melancholy. 

Anna was so amazing he knew that he was going to fall in love with her.  Dropping her back off at her car, telling her that he would keep in touch and let her know when work slowed so that he could take her on an actual date, left him feeling depressed about his job in a way that it never had before.

He’d woken that afternoon to her smiling softly down at him, his stomach doing little flips to gaze at her again.  They talked for a while longer and then she asked to be taken back to her car since she did have to be at the diner early the next morning for her shift.  She was a little quiet on the ride and he figured it was because she was tired from having little to no sleep the night before.   While he hadn’t expected to get another kiss, he found himself a little disappointed to part with just a hug all the same.

And now that he was alone, he wondered if her silence was an indicator that she was having second thoughts about what being with him going forward might be like.  Perhaps he should be guarding his heart a little better.   He’d never had it broken, not even close, but if anyone could hurt him that way, it was going to be Anna.

He needed to be more careful.  Thinking back, he couldn’t believe how reckless he’d been with his feelings.  The things he’d told her, what he’d admitted… he’d never said those words to another living soul before.  Not even Sven, his best friend – his brother – who he’d known his entire life.  Maybe opening up was giving her some second thoughts.

Dark thoughts began swirling in his mind as he parked in front of his cabin and walked slowly up the steps.  Fuck he was sore.  Sore and ashamed of himself.  Angry.

He shuffled over to the fridge and grabbed a beer to take to the porch.  He had some serious thinking to do.  Just as he sat down with a loud groan, his phone rang.   Kristoff fished it out of his front pocket and looked at it.  It was Sven.

“Yeah?” he answered.

“How you making out, Hoss?”

“Sore.”

Sven was silent for a moment.  “What happened?”

“Nothin’.”  Kristoff sighed. “Nothin’.  We had a great time.  We hung out all day.  Talked.  Fished a bit.”

“Catch anything?”

“No.”

“So, what’s with the tone?  Are you havin’ second thoughts?  Was she not what you were expecting?”

Frustration flared up within him.  “No.  I just…”  Kristoff shook his head, not knowing what to say.

It was Sven’s turn to sigh.  “You never talk to me anymore.  Ever since I got with Dixie.  Jeg trodde vi var sterkere enn det.”   I thought we were stronger than that.

Kristoff felt like a piece of shit all over again for the sadness in his brother’s voice.  Because they were that, brothers.  Not by blood, by their shared experiences.   By the tandem in which they lived their lives.

It all began when they met as very young boys (toddlers really) in an orphanage in Norway.  Being virtually the same age, the boys glommed onto one another and did everything as a pair for the year and a half that they were there.  Then when a couple from all the way across the ocean said they wanted to adopt a child, they were told that the boys were inseparable.   

As luck would have it, the family looking to adopt was more than willing to take in both boys, and they’d taken a very long trip back with them to a country that was foreign and weird, and no one spoke their language.   Their adoptive parents were wonderful, caring, and provided the boys a family they’d never had.  But it had been lonely in the beginning, struggling to learn English when they couldn’t even yet read or write in their native tongue, and learning an entirely new way of life living and working on a chicken farm.  Him and Sven had formed an unbreakable bond.

As they grew, surrounded by the culture they found themselves in, their English became as accented as those around them.  They learned about chores and hard work, and gladly helped their adoptive parents as soon as they were done school until dinner time at night.  It wasn’t until they graduated high school, and their parents sold the chicken farm to retire to their native Mexico, that the boys took to learning the work of a big ranch.  They’d been hired together when they were both just barely eighteen.

Since they were kids, they always spoke English to each other, just wanting desperately to fit in and fully immersing themselves in their new country.  Yet those first couple of days on the big ranch, when things were tough and it was the two of them at night sharing memories over a beer, they’d occasionally slip back into speaking Norwegian, even if they were starting to forget some of it by then.

Everyone in town knew their story.  Even Anna had asked when they were fishing, telling him she was curious because names like Kristoff and Sven didn’t exactly sound like any of the others she’d head from the area.  He told her all about it fondly, and she had enjoyed his story, smiling that sweet smile of hers the entire time.

Now he felt a new sort of shame, because he had been shutting Sven out, feeling lonely since he’d be moving on with Dixie.  And he’d been too harsh to cast such judgements on Anna, although he was going to guard his heart a little better from her until things progressed.  It was Sven he needed to let in.

“I’m sorry,” Kristoff said.  “You don’t deserve that.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Sven said softly.  “I get there are things you don’t wanna talk about, it’s just that this feels to me like somethin’ you need to talk about.”

That made him smile a little.  “Honestly, I’m just getting in my own head again.  Anna is really special.  I… really like her.  I’m just worried it’s gonna end like all the others and I’m gonna to get really hurt this time.”

“Ah, man, yeah.  That’s rough.  I know the feeling.”

Kristoff was surprised.  “You do?”

“Hell yeah.  When Dixie and I got hot and heavy.  I mean, what does a rodeo queen want to do with a ranch hand from some hick town… even if he’s from the hick town that she grew up in.  She could live anywhere, have anyone, you know?  Why me?”

“You guys are amazing together.  Don’t worry ‘bout that.”

“I don’t.  Now.  Back then though, when it was new, I did.”

Kristoff nodded to himself.  “Well shit if that don’t make all the sense in the world.”

Sven laughed.  “I keep telling you I’m the smarter one.”

“You just may be,” Kristoff admitted.

“So anyway, I wanted to tell you too, that I went and talked to old man Miller.”

Kristoff stook a swig of his beer.  “And?”

“He’s pissed.  And on board.”

He smiled.  Perhaps it looked slightly deranged.  “Good. ‘Bout time we kick those boys out of our town once and for all.”

--

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[descendantofthesparrow]

what i got so far-this is only a draft

-Rise of Red rewrite-no knowledge of canon plot les goo-

-camera/shot zooms across Auradon and the freed isle, which has been overgrown with foliage as the people of the isle had abandoned the place they called prison, Uma begins to narrate as the camera pans over to Auradon prep and stained glass images of famous Disney princesses and princes-

Uma: I'm sure you know all the tales by now. how Prince Phillip defeated Maleficent and woke up the Princess Aurora with true loves kiss, how Prince Eric saved Ariel by spearing Ursula with a sunken ship, and how Tiana defeated the shadow man and learned love was all she really needed.

You've heard them all before, and I'm sure you've heard our stories, how the vks choose good, to rise above our parent's pasts, to become more than just 'villain kids'. Well, now it's time for a new tale, for the 'new' vks and auradon kids who are just waiting to tell their story, and it's sure to be an exciting one.

Because, you didnt think that was the end of the story...did you? (Uma laugh™)

-end opening credits with classic Descendants title card, the apple breaking to reveal the queen of hearts card-

-scene one-

-the Camera pans back to Auradon prep, the Descendants ost music in the background as it pans across portraits of the graduated vks from the last 3 movies, along with official portraits of ex-King Beast and ex-Queen Belle, and the current king and queen of Auradon-Ben and Mal, Mal’s plum purple hair streaked with blue is tied back into a low bun, her bangs framing her face with the queens crown upon her head, wearing a elegant blue/purple dress that compliments Ben’s royal suit, which bears a golden sash and gold braiding hanging off his shoulder from his shoulder paldrons. Both are smiling at the camera, Mal sitting in a chair with Ben behind her, his crown upon his head as his hands rest on Mal’s bare shoulders-

-The camera continues to pan out of Auradon prep and into a nearby rabbit hole, disappearing into a vortex of wonderland magic as the music changes into a more wonderland vibe, going through the scenery of wonderland, passing by the queen of hearts castle until it goes into the city of hearts, where a girl draped in red and blacks carrying a big duffle bag appears on screen, the camera following her feet until she steps in front of a blank red brick wall. She drops the duffle bag, the ost for rotten to the core starts, takes out several spray cans, and begins to put up her art; mimicking Mal from D1 as she puts up a queen of hearts style of ‘long live evil!’.-

-the girl finishes the piece after a little montage of her laying it down, a smirk on her obscured face. The music cuts suddenly as a rageful voice echoes out from the castle. “QUINN HEARTS!!!” The girl ducks down and stuffs her spray cans into the bag, booking it back across the city towards the castle. Upon arriving in the gardens she chunks the bag into a set of bushes, takes off her jacket, hides behind a bush, and reappears in a different outfit, revealing her face as she quickly fixes up her hair into her rose buns.-

-“Quinn hearts!!!” the rageful voice says again and Quinn/Red grabs a pair of boots she left by the side door as she heads inside, hurridly shoving them on as she holds bobby pins In her mouth, zipping them up and finishing her hair before booking it towards the throne room, skidding to a stop right before entering and taking a breath before throwing open the doors and strutting in, head held high. “mother, I could hear you from gardens, you didn’t need to let the whole kingdom know it was time for tea.” Quinn snarks and the queen of hearts huffs

yeah idk im going off vibes

[alwaysurvalentine]

terrible movies - st ficlet

Based on the prompts: Movies & Fur for my 12 Days of Christmas Mini Event card for @steddiebingo | wc: 795 | cw: none

enjoy! 💛

Eddie should be arriving any minute now. Steve’s been collecting all of the blankets in his apartment for their movie night. So far he’s grabbed a couple throw blankets gifted from Mrs. Claudia and Ms. Joyce, his comforter from his bed, and the hall closet is calling to him now to see if there’s anything hidden there. A knock sounds right as he opens the hall closet so Steve grabs the blankets he sees and heads for the living room again.

“It’s open!” 

Barely a moment passes before the door swings open, bags crinkling from where they hang on Eddie’s arm.

“Hey, sweetheart!” 

Eddie grins and toes his boots off, laces already undone. Steve can see the outline of different candies in the bag, but he’s most excited for the sour gummy worms. A six pack gets set on the table and then Steve’s been tugged closer to Eddie. A kiss gets pressed to both of cheeks (a habit Eddie picked up when he heard about the infamous Mrs. Harrington greeting Steve the same way) and then finally a kiss to his lips (an Eddie-only specialty).

“What’d you bring us?”

“Just some snacks, plus the best movies I could find.” The grin on Eddie’s face turns mischievous though, backing up to show off his choices. Just by the covers alone Steve knows he’s in for a night of making fun of bad acting. 

He’s cut off from answering when the oven beeps. “Go ahead and put one of those in, I made pizza.” 

The kitchen is nice and warm when he steps in, oven heating the small space. His heating has been out for the past few days, fan running but only succeeding in pushing air around with no warmth. As soon as he’d realized, Steve called the office but with the landlord on vacation it’s a waiting game for it to be fixed. Hopefully he and Eddie will be curled up under the blankets by the time the chill settles back in the apartment. 

~

This is the second movie they’ve watched, the first one a horror movie with an ending where the killer gets away with it – Steve’s least favorite. What’s the point of having a final girl if she’s going to die in a cut to black scene? Luckily, Eddie hasn’t said anything about the cold surrounding them. On the screen, the main love interest is pulled into a desperate kiss. 

“Wait, why is she forgiving him? He literally slept with her sister? And hit on her mom?” 

Eddie tries to answer through his laughter, “Because she’s in love with him and he can do no wrong. Stop looking at me like that! I’m not the one who wrote it that way!” 

“You’re the one that brought the movie!”

“That’s just because I knew you’d get all worked up about it. You always have something to say about what the characters are doing, it’s not like people in real life act like this.” Eddie eats another handful of popcorn, kernels falling to the floor, before he sits back. 

“I think we should move on to the most important question of the night.”

Or maybe Eddie had noticed how cold the apartment was.

“What is this?” 

Or not. 

Eddie’s got a furry blanket pinched between two fingers and held out between them like it’s diseased. To be fair to him, the texture looks like a wet dog, fur stuck up in odd places and smooth in others. Steve has no idea how the blanket is in his possession. It must be one of the ones he grabbed from the closet, but after this it’ll be in the trash for sure. 

“Be honest with me,” and Eddie’s face morphs into one a little more serious, “is this from an animal?” The right corner of his mouth is twitching though, curling into a smile when Steve shakes his head quickly.

“Absolutely not! Why would I have something made from a literal animal in my house? No way. It’s just some old blanket that I didn’t realize was in the closet when I was grabbing blankets. Give it to me.” 

The blankets covering them are tangled up in their legs, but Steve still manages to get out without uncovering Eddie. He takes the blanket from Eddie’s pinched fingers and heads towards the front door. No point in putting it into the trash when he can place it here and just take it out next time he leaves. Steve drops it in a pile right below where he hangs his keys and heads back to the living room. Next time he heads out he can toss it.

Right now he’s got more important things to do, like cuddle up with his boyfriend and judge terrible script writing. 

[spacingoutforever]

ok so what if ghoulcy moment inside an old decrepit theatre!?!

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

shes in awe at the number of seats, the huge empty screen. theres a lot of dust, one or two skeletons hanging limp over the back seats.

if the world hadn't fallen... these seats would be full of people. families. couples. Lucy's hand reaches out to caress the back of a seat, worn red velvet beneath her fingers. well. most of them.

when she looks to the Ghoul, he just moves around like its nothing, looking for supplies.

"you really are from before... aren't you?"

she says, just loud enough for him to hear over the rummaging.

he doesnt look up, shifting to the next stash.

"well, how'd you figure that one out?" it took him a moment to reply, his tone condescending. always making it obvious that he wasnt prioritising her.

that this, everything, was still about finding her father. she doesn't know how to answer.

Lucy's silence makes him look up, but his eyes land on an old movie poster behind her.

most of it was covered in old blood, brown and black, stained by the new world like they were. one part remained unscathed, the face of a cowboy staring right back at him, lasso in hand.

the Ghoul's expression drops, he looked almost pained. but then he clenches his jaw, as if taking back his resolve. he wants to pull his gun out and shoot it.

Lucy looks at the poster, then, at the gloved hand now resting on his pistol.

"don't."

she speaks up, voice strained. like she knew.

somehow Lucy feels exposed when she steps out from behind the row of seats.

the Ghoul swallows his anger down like a nasty pill. a dry, choking feeling sitting in the back of his throat as he looks to Lucy. the concern in her face warmed him from his boots to his hat. you couldn't fake that, he thought, reluctantly taking his hand off the pistol.

i so badly want to see Lucy comforting Coop in s2

him letting his walls down around her because she wont mess him around

have seen a lot of ghoulcy where Cooper is the one to warm to her first, but i also love it the other way around. instead of being kind to him bc shes making a point - she just starts to shamelessly try to look after him.

remember how badly she wanted to get married :(

she is trained in so many skills and very clever.. what if she fixes the popcorn machine

[shiggitysstuff]

So this happened to me a month ago and I'm still mad and pretty much terrified of this incident.I'm posting this just to calm down for a few days for remembering about the game is pissing me off.

It was August of this year,i was scrolling down through steam and gamejolt to find some Sonic games to play,I'm a Sonic fan ever since I was 8, alright that's out of topic, but I did find something… interesting to say the least

… I found a port of Sonic 1 on steam for 5$, I did unfortunately bought the fucking game which was pretty much an awful idea, opening the game it was a PNG of the Sonic 1 title with the Green Hill Stage from Super Smash Bros Ultimate,yep i was scammed because of my excited dumbass but I decided to play the game to see how shit this game is.

The first zone was of course Green Hill Zone and I literally see the Sonic sprite from Sonic 1 on a Sky PNG background with low quality green hill ground,there was no animation either and Sonic didn't built up more speed while running,the game looked like it was made in Scratch which made me giggle a little bit but also disappointed,i later on found some platforms and some rings,the rings were just a PNG of the rings from Sonic Color and went on to jump over some spikes and other shit till I found a motobug PNG that's from Sonic Colors too,when I took damage 3 ring PNG’s just appeared for a 1 second and then disappeared getting my ring count to 0,after all of that nonsense I found the big ring for special stages,but after I jumped in I got to the next zone which was Chemical Plant Zone

Chemical Plant Zone was literally just Green Hill Zone with a Gray Sky PNG as the background this time with harder platforming and worse badnik placements,after doing all of that stupid ass platforming I found the big ring and jumped on it but after I did the game fucking crashed, I opened up the game and it has reset my progress making me play the 2 zones I just played again,pretty much wasted 15ish minutes over nothing,but half way through the level the game started freezing for some odd reason,I barely beat the Zone and went to Chemical Plant Zone.

EVERYTHING WAS GOING WRONG,my game was glitching out,the hole zone layout was going crazy and sprites of the game were just losing textures and we're just going around the screen,I was starting to panic and I closed the game,BUT THE GAME OPENED ITSELF,I was pretty much fuckin scared because I didn't know what to do in this situation because nothing like this ever happened to me,I tried to close the game again and again but the game would open again and again,I sadly had to continue playing the game.

After somehow beating Chemical Plant Zone,I was sent back to Green Hill Zone again with a new layout and platforms,I was confused and just continued and there were no enemies or rings this time.. but then the same thing happened again with the hole game going crazy and sprites just shaking everywhere but this time the screen was just shaking and shaking,I was getting more terrified but since I couldn't do anything other to play the game,I just continued playing the game,after a little bit of time I did find the big ring and jumped into it,but then the screen went dark for a little bit..

After some time the dark screen turned into a small square.. then a Sonic with no eyes,with less quills,white arms and red legs popped out from the black square,I jumped from that jumpscare and I was confused and scared for 2 minutes and then.. MY FILES AND MY PROGRAM AND ICONS WERE SLOWLY GETTING DELETED,after seeing that I realized that this was no ordinary scam game but a scam game with a FUCKING BOOT SECTOR VIRUS CODED INTO IT,I couldn't do anything as my PC slowly broke down and crashed,I turned it on and I saw the Blue Screen,which meant my PC was broken and needed repairing and such.

2 days after that hole incident,I tried to get my PC fixed but my PC was long gone,I had to buy a Laptop cuz I was wasted half of my money on the PC that broke down,I'm still pissed about that day,whenever you see an Official Sonic on steam or gamejolt that needs to be purchased with real life money DON’T BUY IT,ITS A SCAM GAME WITH A VIRUS! This will be the last time I talk about this incident or even post about it.I wish I wasn't that excited and I would have kept my PC and wouldn't have spent a lot of my money again. Please do not make the same mistake I did.

("Hedgehog Virus" is written by CREATOR OF DOOM/DOOMCREATOR)

[obvious-captain-rogers]

WIP Wednesday

Got a couple treats for y'all today!

From my s1 rewrite:

Jamie was so deep in his own thoughts that he didn’t hear anyone coming up to him until black boots were resting in front of him. “The fuck’re you still doing here?” Jamie’s eyes snapped up from the scuffed tips to Roy Kent’s confused face.

“Oh, erm, summat wrong with my flat, I guess,” Jamie said and shrugged slightly.

“What do you-?” But before Roy could get the question out, Higgins was rounding the corner with a crease between his brows and a flush on his cheeks.

“Jamie, I’m terribly sorry. There’s been a burst pipe in the flat and it doesn’t look like they’ll be able to fix it and have the place cleaned up for at least a week.” Jamie’s stomach dropped as he blinked at Higgins, unsure what the fuck he was even supposed to say to that. “We can arrange to put you up in a hotel somewhere-”

“He can come home with me,” Roy said easily making Jamie and Higgins both turn to look at him with wide eyes. “It’s just a week or so, yeah?” Higgins nodded mutely, apparently just as intimidated by Richmond’s captain as plenty of other people were. “I’ve got space.”

Jamie’s heart felt like it was in his throat. It just- there was no way. No fucking way that Roy Kent was offering to take Jamie home with him. It felt like some sort of thing that a teenager might come up with. Jamie was pretty sure multiple teenagers had written out their fantasies just like this. “You don’t- erm, ‘s really not a big deal.”

“Just get your stuff and let’s go. Higgins, you have my number?” Roy asked. The man nodded, still seemingly stunned. “Call me when the flat is fixed.” Roy glanced back at Jamie and nodded towards the door. “Let’s go.”

From the latest in the Ollie-verse:

She was hoping that it would be Roy’s face lighting up her screen, but it was Paddy’s. She swiped to answer and then lifted the phone to her ear with a soft smile. “Hey, stranger,” she teased. Ever since she’d moved to London, it’d been hard to keep up with each other, especially after Paddy got married and had a kid of your own. “How’s me goddaughter?”

“Finally not teethin’ anymore, thank fuck,” Paddy laughed down the line. “Think you undersold how absolutely shit that was gonna be.”

“Oi, you weren’t the one bein’ bit on the tit so I think you can just suck it up, mate,” Jamie laughed as Paddy made a considering noise. “You and Evie doin’ alrigh’?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Paddy said and she could hear the smile on his face. “Know the wee lad’s birthday is comin’ up and wanted to give ya a call.” There was a distracted sort of edge to Paddy’s voice. Before Jamie could ask though, he was talking again. “And I know that- that you and Roy’ve taken up wit’ each other, seen it in the press an’ all, so I thought I’d call. See how he’s doin’.”

From my kinktober omegaverse fic:

“You have a match,” Roy pointed out as if Jamie would forget.

Jamie licked a stripe over Roy’s neck to make him shudder. “Then I’ll just have to tire you out before then, won’t I?” He nipped at the spot lightly and Roy let out a low, pleased rumble. “Make sure you’re properly knackered so you’ll just sleep while I’m out.”

Roy snorted at him and rolled his eyes as if he didn’t believe it were possible despite the fact that they had tested that theory on more than one occasion. “What? Just going to fuck me stupid, get me pupped, and then jaunt off to play the big man? Should I have your dinner ready for you when you get home?” There wasn’t any bite to the teasing- and that’s really all that it was- but Jamie felt something sharp and hot lance through him at the image of coming home to Roy with a rounded belly and kissing him at the door. “Jesus, Jamie, I was only joking,” Roy said and smoothed his thumb over Jamie’s cheek, taking his silence for discomfort.

Jamie’s mouth felt clumsy and stupid- the feeling not dissimilar to if he’d taken a crowbar to the back of the skull- so he put it to better use by ducking in to kiss Roy fervently, angling Roy’s jaw just right and coaxing his mouth open to lick inside and feel Roy’s moans vibrating against his tongue.

[narcolini]

caught out

frank castle x gn!reader, 1164 words

warnings for canon typical behaviours, reader’s one of the bad guys basically

for day 29 of whumpril: surrender & ‘final warning’

a/n: honestly i was almost tempted to make this into an oc fic becaue id made the reader character so fun and specific buuut i dont have the time or facilities to right now BUT maybe i will return to the idea in the future 👀 ps. love you madani im so sorry sweetie

tagging: @cositapreciosa @drabbles-mc @ashlingiswriting @hausofmamadas​ 

You’ve got a sight on her. Quite literally, your sight is lined up with the back of her head. Through the window she’s dumb enough to leave open after dark, curtains pinned back by the sides still. You adjust your grip. Your hands on the sniper, the rifle’s belly on the ledge, your knee in the gravel covering the roof-top. It’s a perfect shot from the perfect position. Better than you’ve ever had, and ever will again, really. Not by fucking luck, but patience, of course. Sheer fucking will.

You take a moment to check the sound again, turning up the volume of the radio pack attached to your waist. It crackles to life into your ear piece. Still watching television, Madani? A movie by the sounds of it—action, with a loud soundtrack, and louder gunshots. She’s still alone, still fixing her eyes to the phone in her hand. There’s no reason to wait. Distracted, unaccompanied, clueless. It’s all set up, just how you intended.

You stretch your trigger finger out, then put it back into place. Take a breath, exhale—completely. Hold.

‘Put it down.’

You freeze, because what the fuck else can you do, when there’s a gun set to curve of your skull, and a cold voice from behind you? There shouldn’t be anyone else up here, wasn’t, until now. And you hadn’t heard him approach, because of the fuzzing movie in your head.

You know who it is, of course, because it’s always Frank lately. If not for you, then for anyone else you talk to. He’s quicker than the cops nowadays. Has fucked up more plans and schemes, and just-fucking-revenge than anyone on Madani’s team.

He reaches around to tug the ear piece free of your ear, tossing it to the ground. ‘You didn’t hear me?’

‘I was on the phone,’ you lie, putting no effort at all into making it convincing. You’re leaning away from the sight now, looking at Madani’s apartment with just your own eyes, and watching her move from the couch, away from the window. He’s made you lose your chance. Stolen the moment from under you. You sigh. ‘You messed up my shot, dude.’

He doesn’t laugh—because of course not. Too serious for his own good. He already has you, he may as well take a load off.

‘Try wearing black next time,’ he comments, dryer than you were.

‘You mean camo doesn’t work in urban environments?’ You try to look back at him, just for the nose of his pistol to push your head forward again. Chin almost into your chest. Fucking ow, he could break the skin doing that. ‘Thought we had the same goal, Castle,’ you say, altering your angle. ‘I do this, and you got one less bloodhound on your trail.’

They’ve got him in the news now. Face on every TV screen. With Madani dead, it’d be a Hell of an easier job for him to do the same. Fake death, new life, start all over. He should be begging you, honestly. Should be lining your rifle back up and giving you a countdown.

‘Final warning.’ The gravel crunches as he stresses it, bringing himself closer. ‘Hands up.’

For a moment, you consider testing him. How final is final, after all? Boot to your shoulder, rifle forced to the floor, final? Or you over the edge of the fucking building, a pancake on the ground below, before you’ve even had chance to fight back, final?

‘Alright.’ You straighten, lifting both palms to the air by your head, so the gun swings loose on its strap. Over your shoulder like a birthday sash. ‘No killing today.’

He grabs you before you can even finish your laugh. Turns you roughly, violently, until you’re on your ass, back to the short wall between you and the sidewalk, ten stories beneath. He’s knelt like you were now, in your spot, with his fist twisting in the material of your collar. Knuckles to the bone, face inches from yours. Jesus, you pant a laugh, you’ve already conceded. There’s no need for all this. If he wants to make-out, he should’ve just said so.  

‘Y’know,’ you say, smiling through the ache in your back, and the pressure he’s applying to your chest, ‘I think we’d make a great team. If we worked together.’

‘I work alone.’

‘Eh, but that’s not true, is it, Frank?’

His eyes squint a fraction, then flick away from you. Then he’s talking over your shoulder like you aren’t even there. ‘Yeah, well, you’d be the last name on my list if I needed help.’

‘But I make the list?’ You suck a breath through your teeth. ‘Damn, I’m better than I thought.’

He pushes against you again, gaze coming back to yours. Fun’s over. You can see it in his face. You’re one sarcastic comment away from a bloody nose, a black eye. ‘What’s your deal with Madani?’ he asks. Right to the point.

You wind your head to the side. ‘That’s classified, I’m afraid.’ And it doesn’t matter in the slightest. Your vendettas are no less worthy than his own. ‘You wanna fight for it? Loser tells all their secrets?’

His fist turns another fraction, the cotton around your throat tightens.

‘Sure,’ you pant, ‘choke me out. But you gotta stick around til I wake up again.’ You paint a smile onto your lips that you know, you know, pisses him off, just for fun of it. ‘I don’t wanna miss saying goodbye.’

You watch the cogs turn, slow behind his eyes. He’s debating it, that’s for certain. Make you pass out, or bring you with him. Hell, maybe going other the edge is still an option, you should never assume death is out of the question for him.

Eventually, after thirty—two minute long—seconds, he grunts, pulling you up as he stands. No free-fall sky diving for you today. He’s dragging you back with him toward the rooftop’s exit, feet stumbling after his own. You’re trying to stay parallel with him, or even walk ahead to gain some advantage, but you can’t fucking get your feet straight under yourself. Boots catching, rifle nose bouncing by your knees. He may as well have knocked you out. It’d be smoother for him to drag you by the heel, than continue like this.

‘You don’t wanna talk?’ he says. ‘Fine, I got time.’

‘You gonna torture it out of me, Frank?’ He hasn’t hit you yet, he’s barely even grabbed you hard enough to leave a mark that’ll last. ‘Somehow I don’t believe you.’

‘Yeah,’ he breathes a laugh, ‘that’ll change.’

And is it wrong to say you’re excited, just a bit, in a weird, fucked up kind of way? That you hope he’s actually right? That his threats become real and he forces the answers out of you, somehow. That you get to see the Punisher, finally, in all his bloodied glory.  

[minetteenfers]

Day 2 of @adrienaugust: In the Rain

The day Marinette stepped off the plane, dark and billowy clouds filled the sky. The air was thick and smelled of rain, and the lighting made everything look muted and gorgeous. She had never been to this city in New York, but it was nothing an Uber couldn’t fix.

Waiting to be picked up, she ordered an Uber and gave them the address as soon as they pulled up. Climbing in, she stared out the window and wondered what Adrien was going to say to her. How was he going to react upon seeing her? Would he be happy? Would he be mad? Would he be grateful she had come back into his life? Did he even want her back? This whole thing could have been a massive mistake.

“What brings you to this small town?” The Uber driver peered into her rearview mirror.

“Seeing an old friend.” Marinette smiled and played with her hands in her lap. She was beyond nervous to see him again.

“That’s nice,” the driver smiled and focused back on the road.

Marinette watched as small businesses turned into a tree line. The driver turned onto a dirt road and headed down it. It winded from side to side and by the time she was faced with an old wooden cabin and a mud-splashed, black, car, she wondered what she was going to be met with.

A pair of chairs sat out on an old porch with a screen door, which had seen better days. It reminded her of one she had seen in a movie once, but she tried to push that out of her mind.

“Thank you.” She thanked the driver after grabbing her bag from the back and heard her peel away back down the road, leaving her alone with the cabin.

There was a light on above the old front door, and she took a deep breath before walking towards the front porch. To her left sat a huge tree stump with an axe leaned against it. A massive stack of firewood sat along a side of the cabin, and it was hard for her to imagine him doing all of this. He had fixed a few odds and ends around their apartment, when they had lived together, but not like this. This was a huge endeavor compared to a leaky faucet or a new coat of paint.

With each step up the stairs, they creaked beneath her black, ballet, flats, and she wondered how old this place really was. Reaching up, she knocked on the screen door and waited with her heart in her throat. What if he really didn’t want to see her? What if she was overstepping a boundary by pushing this too fast?

She went to head back down the stairs, feeling like she was being ridiculous. A word that only sounded like Chloe in her head. God, she hadn’t seen Chloe in ages since she moved to New York, but maybe Adrien had.

She turned around on the rickety stairs with a hand on the old railing. Another light came on in the window beside the front door and the curtains rustled before she heard a few locks come undone. The door squealed open as thunder rolled, and she was met with a bearded man as lightening flashed and rain poured down.

Her soft pink lips parted, as she stared into familiar emerald eyes hidden behind long golden hair. She took in his shocked expression. Neither of them said anything, as she looked him over. He looked older now, in his thirties, and wore a green plaid button-down shirt and dark fitted jeans. His undershirt was black and had a deep v-neckline, showing off his collar bones and sculpted pecs. He wore brown work boots, and she had a moment of trying to recognize him behind his exterior, until he opened his mouth.

“Princess?” He swallowed hard, leaning against the doorway with a muscular forearm. “What are you doing here?”

Read more on AO3. It's rated E!

Song I wrote to: