#just gonna go ahead and post 'em while it's slow to clear 'em out

[likearolloftape]

[lupiiifics]

Lucky To Love You

Fic #2 Posted on AO3 on October 1, 2021 for Luzeni Friday on Twitter.

A/N: I swear my stories aren't going to be formatted like this. It's just that I formatted it to fit AO3 so I wasn't sure how to split the chapters here. I didn't want to post them separately, so this is how I did it. Hope it's not too jarring. Next story will be posted on October 8, 2021.

Summary: Zenigata and Lupin agree to a date in Lupin's jail cell. Some hijinks occur, but it's mostly just pining and fluff.

Word Count: 6,988

Chapter 1:

"He's coming."

Goemon appeared between Lupin and Jigen's shoulders, the first sign of him being the hilt of Zantetsuken. His hand gripped the shoulder of the seat in front of him, and Lupin looked back just in time to see blue lights flashing in the distance.

" Shit . How do you do that?" He asked, glancing at the samurai. "I thought we'd have a clean getaway tonight, but it looks like Pops has other plans."

"I thought you kept this one secret? How'd he find us?" Jigen asked.

Lupin shrugged. "Dunno. That guy has some sixth sense when it comes to us."

"When it comes to you , you mean," Jigen corrected. He pulled his Magnum from its holster and popped the chamber to count the amount of bullets. "Want me to take care of him?"

"Maybe. How many are there?"

Jigen turned in his seat, peering past Goemon to stare out the back windshield. "It's just him and his lacky. No one else."

Lupin nodded, tightening his grip on the steering wheel. "Hold off for now. I'll signal you when I need you to slow 'em down."

Jigen lowered his hand but didn't put away his gun. "What're you plannin'?"

Lupin waved a hand in front of them, steadily accelerating to try and outrun their pursuers. They were fast approaching a large copse of trees, the plush green blur becoming clearer as the seconds passed. "I'm gonna try and lose them."

"You sure?" Jigen angled his head upwards until one of his eyes was visible, his bangs peaking through to frame his face. "I could at least stall them."

"Don't waste your ammunition. Save it for when we really need it."

Jigen shrugged, leaning back to kick his feet up on the dash. He pushed his hat down over his face again and stuffed a cigarette from his pocket into his mouth. "Suit yourself. Just don't complain to me later when he catches you."

"He won't catch me," Lupin said, matter-of-factly. "I'm Lupin the Third!"

"That hasn't stopped him before," Jigen muttered. “That guy can’t resist putting his handcuffs on you, can he?”

Lupin grinned, glancing through the rearview mirror again. “Hey, I can’t help being irresistible. It comes with the charm of being me!”

The blue lights were fast approaching, as was the forest. He slammed on the breaks and pressed the clutch to the floor, shifting down until he felt the car catch enough to turn. He jerked the steering wheel, pressing Jigen up against the passenger side door, and throwing Goemon against the back seat. He came up with a glare on his face, his fierce stare peering at him through the rearview mirror.

“You could have warned us,” Goemon said, gripping Zantetsuken. The debris from their sudden shift fell through the sunroof, covering each of them in fallen branches, leaves, and dirt. Lupin ignored the yells of protest coming from his two partners, pressing down the small dirt road in hopes of losing Zenigata. The blue lights still stubbornly pursued them, however, a permanent fixture in the reflection of his mirrors.

The sound of the sirens mixed with the sound of crunching metal as long grey streaks appeared along the sides of his precious Fiat. He pressed his cheek against his window, watching as the trees scratched his car. “ Fuck . Pops is gonna owe me for this one.”

“Ain’t the first time I’ve heard you say that,” Jigen drew a pull from his cigarette, blowing the smoke out through his nose. “You gonna actually hold him to it, this time?”

Lupin leaned forward, shifting as he accelerated deeper into the forest. It was a bumpy ride, throwing each of them around the car as the forest grew more narrow.

“Hush you,” Lupin said. He leaned over, not taking his eyes off the path ahead of him. “Gimme a taste of that, would ya?”

“Thought you hated Marlboros?”

Lupin craned his head, shrugging. “Can’t really pull one of mine out right now, can I? I’m driving.”

Jigen huffed. “Fine. Here.”

He held the cigarette out and allowed Lupin to suck on the end of it. As soon as he pulled away, he crushed the cigarette between his fingers, shoving it into the car’s ashtray and pulling another from the pocket of his jacket.

Lupin laughed the smoke forward to filter against the windshield. It rose overhead and escaped through the sunroof. “Grumpy much, Jiji?”

Jigen ignored him, lighting his brand new cigarette. Goemon leaned forward between them again, his face grim and his hair dotted with leaves and spots of dirt.

“The car will not last,” he said, indicating their slowing speed with the hilt of his sword. “Zenigata will catch up.”

Lupin looked between the samurai and the speedometer. “What? No! She can’t give up on us now!”

Jigen held up his Magnum again, eyes glinting with obvious mirth. “You want me to slow them down now?”

The car began to sputter, dying like a star at the end of its lifecycle. “I’m not sure there’s much point. Looks like we’re running from here. Goemon, you got the stuff?”

Goemon held up a duffle bag full of loot, the pockets glimmering with various pieces of gold, silver, and whatever else they could find that they deemed worth enough to take. He hefted it against the top of one of his shoulders, hopping through the sunroof right as the car came to a stop at the end of a clearing. He drew Zantetsuken in one fluid motion, sending the surrounding trees crashing to block Zenigata’s pursuit. They could hear the inspector yelling on the other side, obviously frustrated to be stopped in his goal of catching them.

“LUPIN! Move these trees, dammit!”

“Sorry, Pops!” Lupin shouted over the chaos. “But I’ve gotta run.”

“Oh no you don’t!”

Zenigata exited his police car and began climbing the fallen trees. When Jigen and Goemon saw this, they began to back away.

“Whelp, I’m outta here. You comin’, Goemon?”

The samurai nodded. “I’m right behind you, Jigen.”

Lupin turned to follow them, but found his arm restrained by a familiar set of handcuffs. He looked back, and found Zenigata half slumped over the trees, grinning at him with a thick rope clutched between his fingers. “I’ve got you now, Lupin!”

Lupin turned toward his friends, watching as they continued to run away from him. “Wait, no. Guys, help me !”

Jigen gave him a sympathetic look while Goemon remained stoic in their escape.

“Sorry, boss,” Jigen said, “but we gotta keep the goods safe, right?”

“No! You’ve got to keep me safe, you bastards!”

Jigen ignored him. “We’ll be sure to give you your share when you escape, okay boss? See ya later!”

“What?! No. Jigen , get your ass back here.”

They disappeared out of the clearing, leaving Lupin alone with Zenigata and Yata. Lupin slowly turned to find Zenigata standing behind his shoulder, tugging his hand up to grin at the cuffs.

“Thought you could escape from me, did you?” He asked. He untied the rope and grabbed Lupin’s other hand to trap behind his back. “Now you’re coming back with us to the station.”

“Aw, but Pops. Tonight was supposed to be a quiet night. I didn’t even send out a calling card.”

“I don’t care!” Zenigata beamed, his face absolutely alight with pride. “Wherever you go, I follow, remember?"

Lupin hunched his shoulders and blew out a defeated sigh. "Normally I'd call that romantic, but with you I'm not so sure."

"Call it whatever you want. You're not getting away this time, Lupin ," Zenigata said. He turned toward the pile of trees and pulled Lupin along with him. "Yata! Come help me load our prisoner."

"Yes, sir!" Yata poked his head up from where he had climbed the trees, reaching an arm down to do just as Zenigata had asked. "Boost him up. I’ll pull.”

#

Zenigata fumbled with his cellphone, struggling to dial the number of his police chief. Yata did his best to help him, but there wasn't much he could do for a man as stubborn as the Inspector. Lupin watched helplessly from the back seat, listening as the two bickered.

"Just let me dial the number—"

"No, I already told you I got it. Here, look. See? It's ringing!"

Zenigata held the phone gleefully to his ear, a large grin spreading across his face. Yata's expression was a little less enthusiastic, exhausted against his superior's relentless tenacity.

Zenigata didn't notice this. His voice was bright as he said, "hello? Chief? Yeah, we got 'em! We caught Lupin. We're transporting now."

Lupin had already slipped his cuffs, but his escape was thwarted by this car's lack of back-door handles. This wasn't Zenigata's typical police car. It didn't have a sunroof either.

He wrapped his arms around the headrests of the seats in front of him, leaning to poke his head between the two police officers. Yata jumped when he noticed the thief, while Zenigata ignored him and finished his report.

"We'll be there in an hour. Have his cell prepped and ready for me, alright? Yes, sir. I'll give you the full run-down once I have Lupin locked up tight."

"Sir—" Yata sputtered, staring wide-eyed at Lupin. He held his hand to his holstered handgun, ready to use it if Lupin decided to try anything hasty. Zenigata remained calm as he felt Lupin snake his hand around his left shoulder. He simply said his goodbyes, hung up the phone, and turned to look at their prisoner.

“You slipped your cuffs,” he said, voice flat.

Lupin held up the cuffs in question, hanging them off the top of his forefinger. He grinned. “You know me, Pops. I’ve never been one to be restrained.”

“I beg to differ,” Zenigata said. “Seeing as I’ve got you where I want you, and we’re heading back to the station now.”

Lupin shrugged and fell back against his seat. "I'll find a way out of this. I always do. You got a smoke?"

Zenigata grumbled, much of his initial enthusiasm gone from his body language. He rummaged through his pocket for his cigarettes and lighter, pulling one out, lighting it, and handing it back to Lupin. Yata stared at him as the cigarette left his lips, his entire face twisted in confusion.

"You're actually giving him one?"

Zenigata shrugged. "They haven't been tampered with, so why not? Not like he'll get many opportunities in prison anyway."

Yata slumped his shoulders. "You're too kind, Inspector. He's a thief!"

"Hey, just ‘cause he’s a thief, doesn’t mean I can’t treat him with respect.” Zenigata said.

Yata sighed, and Lupin laughed at the reserved look on the young police officer’s face. This earned him a glare worthy of Goemon, and Lupin’s laughter only got louder.

“Zenigata, with all due respect, you’re hopeless…”

#

His cell was at the back of the police station, past the rows of office desks, people, and officers. The room was dark and windowless, with lights that were controlled by whoever was guarding him. The cell door was heavy and automated, with no obvious control panel, nor way Lupin could conceivably hack it. He realized then that this cell had been specifically created to contain him, at least temporarily, until they could figure out a way to keep him from escaping. It was kind of impressive actually, until he realized the reality of what that would mean.

“You’ve been doing your research,” Lupin said, looking around. There was a bed suspended by wire in the corner of the room, and a mirror and toilet behind a wall for him to use.

“Told you you weren’t going anywhere,” Zenigata said. He pressed his hand against the back of Lupin’s shoulder, pushing him forward into the cell. “Welcome to your new home, Lupin~”

Lupin was beginning to panic, though he hid it under a veneer of careful planning. He straightened the orange jumpsuit they’d forced him into. Anything to make him look, and feel, composed. “ Temporary home, you mean. You know I’ll bust outta here eventually.”

Zenigata smiled at him and started to turn to leave the cell. “Whatever you say, Lupin.”

Lupin stumbled forward, unaware of the movement until it was actually happening. He caught Zenigata’s wrist in a plea to get him to stop. “Wait.”

“What?” Zenigata raised a dark eyebrow at him, turning to stare at their intertwined arms. “Do you need something?”

“Let’s make a deal.”

“A deal?” Zenigata shook his head, pulling away. “I don’t make deals with criminals, Lupin. You know that.”

Lupin was desperate. “A bet then. If I can make it through a week, you have to go on a date with me.”

Zenigata’s face flushed red and he took a step backwards. “A date ? Are you out of your mind?”

“Probably,” Lupin said, “but anyway. What do you say? Will you accept?”

Zenigata pressed his back against the cell door, face still flushed with what Lupin thought was embarrassment. “Don’t you have Fujiko? Or Jigen? Why would you want me ?”

“Why wouldn’t I want you?” Lupin asked, genuinely surprised. “You’re my rival , Zenigata. No cop in the world has ever managed to capture me for more than a night, and you’ve done it more than I can count. You’re my equal .”

“What about the others?” Zenigata asked. “Won’t they be angry?”

Lupin waved a hand. “Nah, they won’t care.”

Zenigata spluttered. “But isn’t that… cheating?”

“ Zenigata …” Lupin stared at him, a smile slowly growing to meet his eyes. “People can be polyamorous.”

“R...Right.”

Lupin edged toward the inspector eagerly. “So? What do you say?”

Zenigata rubbed his face. He was silent for several moments, seemingly going over the pros and cons in his head.

“This isn’t some plan to escape, is it?”

Lupin shrugged. “That depends. Where will the date take place?”

Zenigata scanned the room with his eyes, a plan slowly forming in his mind. “Here.”

“Really? How?”

“We’ll figure it out,” Zenigata said, “but we’re sure as Hell not doing it anywhere else.”

Lupin drooped his shoulders, disappointed that his idea hadn’t quite worked how he expected. “Aw, you’re no fun.”

“Just be glad I’m gonna let you do this at all.”

“So is that a yes?”

Zenigata looked like he was about to sign his soul away. He exhaled and rolled his shoulders. “ Yes , but only if you make it a week. Otherwise, the entire thing is off.”

Lupin shouted his excitement, throwing his arms around the inspector’s shoulders. “I’m looking forward to it!”

Zenigata allowed Lupin to nuzzle into his neck for a moment, enjoying the contact as much as he could allow. A moment later, he pried the thief off of him, and missed the warmth of his arms almost immediately. “Seven days,” he said. He held up seven fingers. “One week from today, or the date’s off.”

Lupin saluted him loyally, stepping back with a grin bright on his face. ��Yes, sir! One week.”

Zenigata gave Lupin a small smile, stepping to turn back to the door. He paused for a width of a second, expecting something else, but the only sound he heard was the squeak of Lupin’s bed as the prisoner climbed into it. He wasn’t sure why he was disappointed as he left the jail cell. There shouldn’t have been anything else he was expecting.

#

As soon as the door closed, and Lupin was sure Zenigata was gone, he tugged at the edge of his ear until a small earpiece popped out into his hand. He played with the contraption for several seconds, bending and contracting it until he had it how he liked it. Then he hooked it back to the plastic by his ear, and grinned when he heard the other end pick up.

Jigen sounded tired as he answered, and Lupin wondered if he had woken him. “Boss?”

“Hey, Jiji . Listen. I need a favor.”

Chapter 2:

Report #1, Zenigata Koichi. Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department:

“Day one of Lupin’s imprisonment was an overall success. Lupin himself was cooperative. He answered my questions, followed orders, and did his best to seem like a perfect prisoner. Most of his first day was spent lounging on the bed. When I asked if he needed anything, he requested extra blankets. This seemed to be for comfort, as he used them as pillows and laid one over the sheets on the mattress. Otherwise, there is nothing else to report. He asked me for details on the date, and I hesitated to answer. I’m still not sure what I’m feeling over our bet, but my heart keeps skipping beats. Maybe I should go see a doctor?”

Report #2, Zenigata Koichi. Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department:

“Day two came with a string of complications, none of which seemed to affect Lupin or his seemingly unwavering determination to make it through this week. I hadn’t expected him to be so positive throughout this experience. So far he’s been nothing but smiles when in the past, it was always grandeur and posturing. I feel like he’s hiding something from me, though I can’t figure out what. I will get to the bottom of it, however. He can’t hide from me! I know all his secrets. Also… he called me ‘handsome.’ I’m not sure if that’s information I should share in my reports, but I can’t stop thinking about it.”

Report #3, Zenigata Koichi. Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department:

“I think his facade is starting to crack. When I approached his cell at the beginning of my shift, I found him shouting orders to the men guarding his door. Of course, this stopped once I announced myself. The men wouldn’t answer me when I asked what he had been shouting about. Instead, they told me it was nothing and, even when ordered, ignored me when I asked them to tell me. I entered Lupin’s cell angry, which was a mistake, because he caught me off guard with a hug from behind. I was so startled that I threw him off. Of course, he laughed about it. Sometimes I forget how damn good of a man Lupin can be. It takes a lot to piss him off. Apparently throwing him against a wall isn’t enough to break him down.”

Report #4, Zenigata Koichi. Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department:

“Day 4 and I think Yata has finally given up on me. He refuses to work with me on Lupin’s imprisonment, instead choosing to pursue the other three. So far, he hasn’t made much leeway. I warned him that this would be the case. Lupin might have screwed up by allowing himself to get caught, but Jigen and Goemon are a whole other monster when put together. And who even knows what’s going on with Fujiko? Lupin doesn’t seem to know where she is, but he’s not concerned, so neither am I. I instructed Yata to keep looking, if only to keep him from judging me. He seems disappointed in my deal with Lupin. Personally, I don’t see the issue with it if it keeps him in jail. We’ll have to see how it goes. That is, if Lupin makes it through all 7 days and Yata stops sighing whenever he looks at me.

Lupin was just as sugar-coated as usual today. He kept asking me opinions on things we could do during our date. I’m not sure if that was his way of flirting with me or if he was simply trying to make small talk. He does seem fairly sincere in his affections, but Lupin is like that with a lot of people. I don’t know if I can trust him. The men cheered when I exited the cell and I found several post-it notes with words of encouragement at my desk. I’m not certain I like what they’re all getting at.”

Report #5, Zenigata Koichi. Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department:

“We ran into our first actual issue with Lupin today. He seemed oddly defeated when I visited him in his cell, though he put up a facade almost as soon as he noticed me. Otherwise, he was energetic. I don’t know if being in the cell is starting to take its toll, or if he’s accepted his future imprisonment. He wasn’t lying when he said I’d done my research. The cell itself is tailor made to keep him contained, plus it’s at the back of the police station. If he were to escape, he’d have to go through me and every officer on duty in the office. He might be a master thief who had escaped from impossible odds time and time again, but everyone has their limit. He is just one man, and as far as Yata has told me, there’s no sign of Jigen or Goemon on their way to save him. As far as I can tell, they’ve abandoned him. Maybe that’s why he’s so listless? He’s probably missing his partners. I’ll try my best to make him happy during his time here, if only to wipe that hurt puppy look off his stupid monkey face.”

Report #6, Zenigata Koichi. Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department:

“I can tell Lupin is trying to come up with a way of escaping after our date in two days. He was restless when I found him this morning. I don’t think he’s really slept since I caught him, and while that shouldn’t concern me, it does. I tried asking him about how he was feeling, and he just dodged the question. I wonder if this is what he’s like with all of his partners. Is he open with Jigen, Fujiko, and Goemon? Or does he thrive on hiding behind a mask? He seems to be trying to convince me he’s fine, but I can see he’s not. I don’t think he likes being alone. He thrives off of other people, but I can hardly let him around other prisoners. It’s not that he’s particularly dangerous. He’s rarely even violent. He’s just flighty. If I let him anywhere but the bath house and his cell, he’ll get too many ideas and be out of my hands before I even know it. Maybe that’s not a risk right now with our date at the end of the week, but it becomes a risk as soon as that date is over. I’m not sure if this entire thing is just some elaborate scheme to take advantage of me, but he does seem to actually like me. I keep asking what it is he sees in me, an old police inspector, and he keeps saying the same thing. We’re destined rivals, which means we’re destined to be together.”

Report #7, Zenigata Koichi. Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department:

“The date is tomorrow night, which seems to have revived Lupin’s spirits a bit. He gave me a hug again when I entered his cell, though he waited until I could see him before actually doing it. This time, I didn’t throw him off me, though part of me kind of wanted to. I just can’t wrap my head around what’s happening here. We’re on the opposite sides of the law. I shouldn’t have this pressing need for him to be nearby, but I do. I’ve tried so long to push these feelings aside, or to channel them into capturing him, and now that I have, I don’t know what to do with myself. I’ve started to realize that this is the way it’s always been. That my desire to capture him was more than just my job. It was personal, and I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do about that. The men seem supportive, with the only detracting person still being Yata. He seems to have overall accepted the fact that this is something that’s happening. I don’t know how to explain to him why I have to do this. Hopefully, he’ll eventually understand.”

Report #8, Zenigata Koichi. Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department:

“I still think Lupin is hiding something from me, and when I tried to ask about it, he once again ignored me. For now, I’m giving up on figuring it out by focusing on tonight. Lupin seemed over the moon when I talked to him about it this morning. I’m mostly nervous. I’m getting off an hour early to go home and prepare. The men seemed excited for me. They kept cheering me on about it. They even got Yata to join in, though he seemed embarrassed. It makes me happy to finally see him come around. Yata’s still new to this. I think it’s taken him a while to understand that the life of someone like us is not all about catching criminals. Sometimes, it’s about capturing them and then going on dates with them. I still can’t believe I agreed to do this.”

Chapter 3:

Zenigata pulled up to the police station embarrassed.

He was dressed in a dark brown pinstripe suit, with a pristine white dress shirt, a cream and gold striped tie, and an old pair dress shoes. He felt oddly stuffy when walking into the station. Like he looked out of place. Most of the people on duty complimented him as he passed, and suddenly he wished he had not gone without his hat. At least with it he could hide, and maybe get rid of this feeling of wanting to flee. This was Lupin’s reward, after all. He couldn’t back out now, not when the thief had buckled down and done what he had promised to, anyway.

He noticed about halfway through the office that most of his colleagues wouldn’t look him in the eye. Normally this wouldn’t be something that bothered him. He could be intimidating, especially to younger officers, based on his title alone, but this was different. People he’d worked with for years didn’t quite meet his gaze. They dodged his questions, welcomed him and asked him what he had planned, but they didn’t look at him. It got to the point that he thought something was wrong with the way he looked, and a wave of self-consciousness washed over him once again.

The only outlier was Yata, who led him back to Lupin’s cell with the same smile he always had on his face. He treated Zenigata as he normally did, and for the moment, that helped to calm him down.

“Is something wrong?” Zenigata asked as they passed the rows of desks.

Yata shook his head. “I don’t believe so. Why do you ask?”

“It’s just that everyone seems to be acting weird.”

Yata shrugged. “It’s not everyday a police inspector has a date with a world-renowned criminal. I’m not sure it’s surprising that they’re acting differently.”

Zenigata shifted the basket he had brought with him to rest under one of his arms. “You’re not mad at me, are you?”

Yata looked back, holding out his keycard, but not actually scanning it against the hidden scanner quite yet. “No. Why would I be mad?”

Zenigata rubbed his neck. “Well, I know this isn’t quite what you expected when you agreed to become my partner.”

Yata laughed and it surprised him. “With all due respect, sir, nothing we’ve done so far has been what I was expecting. It’s been fun though, and I hope we continue to work together.”

“So you’re really not upset at me?”

“No. I thought it was odd at first, but then the men reminded me that this is always how it’s been between you and Lupin.”

Zenigata was astonished. “That’s not true…”

Yata smiled. “Are you sure? From what they tell me, you’ve always been smitten with him.”

“That’s… okay, probably true, but I don’t know if ‘always’ is the word I’d use.”

“Whatever you say, Inspector.” Yata scanned the keycard, and punched in a code that was linked to his work phone. “You ready?”

Zenigata sighed, looking down at himself and the basket. He looked back up to Yata and nodded. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

The feeling of nervousness was so strong his chest hurt. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting as Yata opened the door. Maybe it would be empty? Maybe this was how they discovered how Lupin had played them? Maybe it would be normal? He didn’t know.

What he wasn’t expecting was the sound of music, the smell of scented wax candles, or the shuffle of feet as Lupin rushed to finish whatever it was he was preparing. He stepped through to see the thief turn on his heel, greeting Zenigata just as the door to his cell slammed shut behind him.

“Pops! Welcome!” Lupin swung his arms aside to showcase what he had been working on. It was then Zenigata noticed that both the room, and Lupin, had been transformed to match that of some fancy French restaurant. There was a tall circular table in the middle of the room, covered by a bright white sheet. On this table sat a basket of red wine and two crystalline glasses, as well as two tall candles and a single red rose in a vase. On the floor near the table was a small black cassette radio playing a song Zenigata didn’t recognize. It said,

“ I ain't got any worries

And I ain't got any money

But luck seems to follow

Wherever I go

When you said hello

My luck disappeared

You didn't even know I cared. ”

Lupin wore a black three piece suit, fancier than anything Zenigata owned, with a white ruffled blouse, and shiny silver cufflinks. He was so surprised by this, he didn’t even hug back when the thief wrapped his arms around his shoulders. His mind was too preoccupied with trying to figure out how he’d done this, along with processing just how good Lupin looked in that suit.

“What is this?” Zenigata asked, voice weak.

Lupin pulled away from him and smiled. He led Zenigata to the table, and pulled out one of the two chairs for him to take. “Our date,” he said. “It’s not much, but I hope you like it.”

“How? How did you do this?”

Lupin’s smile turned into a grin. He picked up the glasses and placed one in front of Zenigata. “I enlisted the help of your men. They planned everything. All I did was order some stuff for Jigen to drop off. Like this wine, or my favorite suit.”

“They… really? Is that why they wouldn’t look at me as I was walking in?”

Lupin shrugged. “I guess they didn’t want to ruin the surprise. What do you think? Did they do a good job?”

“It’s perfect,” Zenigata said, still shellshocked. “Wait, did you say you’ve spoken to Jigen?”

“Yes, but not about escaping. I’ve kept my promise.”

“That’s not what I’m concerned about. I just want to know how.”

Lupin looked guilty, and pulled at something at the top of his left ear. A thin flesh colored piece of metal appeared between his fingers and Lupin held it out to show him. “This is how. It’s an antenna with a builtin speaker and microphone. I connect it to this,” he removed another piece by his ear,  “and I can talk to whoever it’s connected to like a cellphone.”

“Shit, didn’t think of that,” Zenigata said. He wasn’t really surprised. With the amount of contraptions Lupin had on his person at any one time, it was impossible to be alarmed by missing something.

Lupin’s expression of guilt shifted to pride and he grinned. “Clever isn’t it? I came up with it for situations just like this.”

“You came up with it for dates with police inspectors?” Zenigata smiled, watching as Lupin’s expression shifted once more into disdain.

“Quit being facetious. You know what I invented it for. Now drink your wine.”

Zenigata nodded and picked up his glass. “About that. You said Jigen dropped this off? How’d he do that without being caught?”

Lupin took a sip of his own glass, tipping it toward him. “He disguised himself as one of your officers. Said something about finding everything I asked for dropped off at the door with a note attached saying, ‘For Lupin.’”

“And they didn’t notice?”

Lupin bobbed his head. “What can I say? There’s truly no one out there like you, Pops.”

“Koichi.”

“Hm?”

“For tonight, call me Koichi. This is a date, isn’t it?”

Lupin laughed. “Yes it is. Doesn’t that mean you should call me Arsène?”

“Do you want me to?” Zenigata asked.

Lupin hid his face in his glass. “I wouldn’t be against it, though I cannot remember the last time someone called me by my first name. It might have been right before my grandfather died. I can’t be sure.”

“Well, Arsène , if it’s any consolation, I don’t remember the last time someone called me by my first name either.”

Lupin shivered and placed his glass back down on the table. “Okay, that’s gonna take some getting used to. It doesn’t even sound like my name anymore.”

“I can call you Lupin instead if you’d like.”

Lupin shook his head. “Nah, if it’s coming from you, Koichi. It’s fine.”

Zenigata smiled. He leaned forward in his seat and took another sip from his glass. “Alright, but we go back to normal after this. I don’t know how the men would react if they heard you calling me Koichi.”

Lupin nodded. “And I don’t know how Jigen would react if he heard you call me Arsène. He might actually kill me. He gets kind of touchy when it comes to things like that.”

“I don’t think Jigen would be capable of killing you,” Zenigata said. “One, you’re well… you and two, he loves you too much.”

“Oh he’s capable, alright. If Jigen wanted to, he’d be able to take me out in mere seconds. Luckily, as you said, he loves me.”

“A lot of people do,” Zenigata said.

Lupin leaned forward. The look on his face was wide and cocky. “Is one of those people you, Koichi ?”

The way Lupin purred his name gave Zenigata pause more than the actual question did. He found himself spluttering for an answer, his entire face flushed and bright red. “I… well . Yes. I suppose so.”

The song playing over the radio had long since repeated itself, playing softly to aid the thoughts running through Zenigata’s mind. Now it said,

“ Lucky-I can't be lucky in love

All my four leaf clovers

Can't do me no good

Funny, just when I needed to be lucky

Couldn't help but lovin' you

Lovin' you… ”

Lupin repeated the last of the lyrics in a whisper between them, wineglass all but forgotten and Zenigata the main focus of his attention. He reached forward and plucked the inspectors hands up off his lap, rubbing calloused thumbs over the top of both of them.

Zenigata stared at their entwined hands, and couldn’t help the thrum of emotion from rising deep within him. He almost felt like crying. He wasn’t quite sure why.

Lupin noticed this and smiled at him. He leaned farther forward, close enough that Zenigata could smell the wine on his breath. “I haven’t gotten a chance to tell you this yet, but you look wonderful tonight, Koichi. I wasn’t even expecting you to come dressed up.”

“I couldn’t very well show up in my regular clothes now, could I? Just because it’s been a while, doesn’t mean I don’t remember how to prepare for a date.”

“I wouldn’t have minded,” Lupin said. “You’re perfect no matter what you’re dressed in.”

“That’s not true, but thank you anyway, Arsène.”

Lupin looked scandalized. “It is true, but you’re welcome.”

Zenigata felt awkward, but he plowed forward anyway. “You… you look nice tonight too. So nice in fact, I think I short circuited when Yata let me into your cell.”

Lupin giggled and nodded his head. “I noticed that, though I wasn’t sure if it was me or if it was everything we’d managed to sneak in.”

“It was both,” Zenigata said. “Though you were a big part of it.”

“Even in jail, I clean up pretty nice, don’t I?” Lupin looked down at himself and back up at Zenigata. “They even let me shave.”

“I can tell, and yes. You’re probably the most beautiful person I know.”

Lupin looked genuinely touched. “Even compared to Fujicakes?”

Zenigata nodded. “She doesn’t even begin to hold a torch to you. I promise.”

“Hey, Fuji-chan’s a knockout. Don’t underestimate her looks.”

“Don’t underestimate yours either,” Zenigata said. “You’re gorgeous, you know?”

“So I’ve been told,” Lupin smiled. “Hey, Koichi. I have a question.”

Zenigata dipped his head. “Yeah?”

“Can I kiss you?”

Everything stopped, and the blush returned to Zenigata’s face. That song kept up it’s chorus, saying,

“ Couldn't help but lovin' you

Lovin' you… ”

“Yeah…”

Lupin inclined his head, letting go of Zenigata’s hands to press his own against his cheeks. His lips were soft as they met the inspector’s, sweet like wine and cherry chapstick. For several moments they stayed like that, lost in a world of warmth, love, and that happy song playing in the backdrop. Zenigata’s heart raced as the time went on, but he couldn’t bring himself to pull away. The kiss felt so right against him that he wished it would go on forever. The rush of air between them tickeled as their breaths quickened, and their tongues slid together through parted lips. It was like nothing Zenigata had ever experienced. Like lightning in a bottle or the unmistakable feeling he got during a car chase.

When they pulled apart, he wanted to go back in. When Lupin smiled at him, he did. The second kiss was faster, more passionate, but just as sweet. They pushed against each other, fighting for dominance. For a time, it was unclear who would break away first. It seemed to go on endlessly, but at long last, it was Zenigata who broke contact.

They came up from the kiss huffing into each other’s faces, out of breath but grinning like school girls. Lupin snuck his chair closer to Zenigata, and wrapped his arms around his back to bury his face in the inspector’s neck. He sighed heavily, purring almost like a contented cat.

“I’m glad we made that bet,” he said. “I had a really nice time tonight.”

Zenigata hummed and allowed himself to nuzzle his nose against the thief’s shoulder. “I did too. We should do this every time I catch you.”

“Thought I wasn’t getting away?” Lupin chuckled, and Zenigata felt it bubble between their chests.

“You’re not,” Zenigata said. “But in the case you do, I’m going to be extra determined to get you back.”

Lupin’s chuckled turned into genuine laughter, and he pulled away just enough to see Zenigata’s face. They were close enough that their knees pressed together, the fronts of each of their chairs practically touching. “Challenge accepted,” he said. “Though we don’t have to save these dates for every time you catch me.”

“Yeah, but where’s the fun in that?” Zenigata asked.

“Hey, the chase and date themselves might be fun, but I’d actually like to take you out sometime.”

“I wouldn’t be against that. This turned out to be more than I was expecting.”

“Is that a good thing?” Lupin asked.

Zenigata nodded and pressed his lips against Lupin’s forehead. “It’s the best.”

“Good,” Lupin leaned down onto his shoulder again. He grew heavy until, that is, he noticed something. He perked up. “What’s that?”

“What’s what?”

Lupin broke away from him to grab the basket Zenigata had deposited beside his chair. He held it out. “This.”

Zenigata slapped his forehead, having completely forgotten about his basket. He took it from Lupin and placed it on the table, opening it up and dropping its contents around the candles and rose. The moment he pulled out two containers of cup noodles, his electric kettle, and bottles of water, Lupin lost it. He nearly fell out of his chair laughing, and for a moment Zenigata grew defensive.

“What are you laughing at?”

The laughing continued. “Why…why did you bring cup noodles?”

“It was all I had.”

“But we’re on a date .”

Zenigata was confused. “So? They’re good and easy to make. There’s not much we can do in a jail cell so I had to improvise.”

“Yeah, but cup noodles? You could have ordered something from a restaurant and brought it with you.”

“I didn’t think of that,” Zenigata said. “And anyway, why does it matter? Why’s it matter what we eat?”

“It doesn’t,” Lupin said. “It’s just so incredibly you . I’m not sure what else I was expecting.”

“I’m not sure what you were expecting either.”

Lupin continued to laugh. “You realize the wine I asked for isn’t cheap, right? Wine and cup noodles. It’s so… perfect .”

Zenigata began to put his supplies away, offended by Lupin’s reaction. “If you don’t want ‘em, I’ll leave. Maybe this was a mistake after all.”

Lupin threw out his hands to stop him. “ No . No. Don’t go. I'm sorry. I’m not mocking you. It just caught me off guard, that’s all.”

“I can order something too if that’s what you’d prefer. I’m sure Yata would—”

“No. Make the damn noodles, Koichi. I’m sure they’ll be delicious.”

Zenigata slowly started to place his supplies back down on the table. “You’re sure?”

Lupin nodded. “I can’t wait to tell Jigen about this. He’ll get a kick out of it.”

“Alright,” Zenigata said. “I’ll be sure not to bring noodles with me on our next date.”

Lupin shook his head. “But you have to. At this point, I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”

“You’re enjoying this too much.”

“Perhaps, but it’s only because I love you.”

Zenigata stared at him, all the emotions of the past hour rushing back to flood his brain.

“I love you too,” he said, along with the chorus of that song, and the chuckles of his thief reverberating throughout the jail cell.

[thejollywriter]

Lena Talbot thought she had a good thing going for her, running with Rance Barrron’s gang. But after a stagecoach robbery goes wrong and end with violence and abandonment, she’s left to die in the high Rockies. Unexpectedly saved by a trapper, Eliza, she recovers and is faced with a choice. Accept a new life with Eliza. Or hunt the bastards who shot her in the back. 

It’s a good life in the Rockies. It’s hard, honest work. But Lena’s a hard-ass. And there’s inequity in her ledger. And she just can’t let it go. 

This is a historical Western written by ME, AMELIA FISHER, UPDATING ON WATTPAD!

https://www.wattpad.com/1114347969-gallows-and-gold-chapter-one-paying-work

So here’s the whole first chapter! 

***

Chapter One: Paying Work

Rance had me keep a lookout on the top floor of the brothel because he figured I’d be the only one not distracted by the dames. Me, bein’ Lena Talbot, didn’t figure a woman could be distracted by another woman.

Hadn’t the heart to correct him. Not that I minded. Mary sat on the bed behind me, legs crossed primly. The piano player wailed on the ivory downstairs, the sound trickled up to me on the third floor. In the rooms around us, I heard giggling, laughing, fucking. The work of a brothel.

Footsteps up and down the hallway. Clients, the Madame keeping an eye on things, girls moving back and forth.

Mary sighed. “When you’d paid, I figured it’d be work related, but we might still have some fun.”

“Rance catches me slacking, he’ll have my ass,” I said. This was a corner room, windows faced the north and the east. Had a great view of the main street below. The others were elsewhere, in their positions.

My job was to set off a firecracker when the target appeared. The pop would draw eyes, and surprise would be ours.

And then, functionally, I was to get down. Because whatever eyes we drew would lead to gunfire, I should think.

No sign of them yet.

Mary stood up. She wore a black corset, her linen shirt was pulled down past her shoulders and her nipples were barely hidden by the light, airy fabric.

“I’m sad now,” she said, and traced her fingers along the back of my arm. I pushed my hat back. I was in a vest, black slacks, sturdy boots, and a red shirt. Sleeves were rolled up, though, and my gun belt was black leather, too.

“I’m workin’,” I said, but I didn’t say it mean. I was leaned up against the wall. Antsy, waiting.

“Yeah but you gotta ignore me, too?”

“As opposed to what?”

She stood close to me now. Locks of dark hair hung in front of her eyes, she brushed a strand aside, pouted at me. I reached out, cupped her cheek, brushed a thumb over her lips.

“I’m workin’, darling.”

She sighed, looked out the window, I laid my arm around her waist. She had a hand on my chest, traced a finger down my front, idly.

If I kept my eyes out the window, I could touch her. Hike up her skirts, slip my fingers between her soft thighs, and find her pleasure. It’d be easy.

Up the street, I saw the wagon turn into view. I stiffened. She noticed, glanced at me, then up the road.

“It’s time?”

“Go on,” I said. “Keep your head down.”

“Alright.” She kissed my cheek. “Good luck.”

I watched her go, the door clicked closed softly, and I tugged the bandana around my neck into place over my nose. Hair tied up, hidden under my hat, all that could be seen were my eyes. And that wasn’t real telling.

I opened the window, pushed the drapes to one side, and held the firecracker in my hand, picked up a candle from the dresser to the side. Waited.

Across the way, on the rooftop of the general store, I saw Buck with his long gun.

If we got the surprise, no call for shooting.

Time.

I held the candle to the fuse, it caught and started to spark, I lobbed it out the open window, it popped in the air, I blew out the candle, and ducked.

People yelped, some surprised, the horses below whinnied in protest, but I heard running feet, a rolling wagon, and yelling voices.

The coach drivers hollered, reined their horses in to stop them crashing into the wagon Jimmy and Andy rolled to block the coach.

I mantled through the window, snagged my long gun, and stood up at the railing, rifle pointed down.

“Gentleman!” Rance called out and stepped into view. “Good morning! Let’s keep those hands to heaven! We’ve no interest in bloodshed but by God’s fiery right hand, if your palms touch iron we will fill you full’a holes.” Rance stood on top of the untethered wagon.

I aimed at the driver. The fella riding shotgun had a double-barrel in his hands, but there were eight people in the street surrounding the wagon, and he wasn’t stupid.

Two of ours moved up to the wagon doors.

“Gentleman, what you’re carrying is no longer yours to keep. Your job was deliver it to Leadville, and while I’m sure y’all had a different destination in mind, consider this your stepping-off point.”

“That gold don’t belong to you.” The driver said.

“Don’t belong to you neither, fella,” Rance said. “And while I’m sure your employers would love you to die for their cargo, it’s a foolish thing to do.”

“We got a job needs be done.” The driver said. “Move the wagon, let us get to it.”

“A bold idea, an idea I have to reject.” Rance said. “Who y’all carrying? Many guards inside?”

Our men moved to the door, the driver stared me down, and I think he was wondering just how fast he could pull his pistol and get a shot off.

Except he had nowhere to go. And if he tried to ram his horses through the wagon, it was as likely to get them killed and tip the wagon as it was to lead to freedom.

“I see ideas growing in that head, mister,” Rance said. “Eyes front, if you don’t mind.”

The driver looked at him. “You’ve got no idea what’s coming if you take this gold.”

The curtains were down in the wagon, the closest to the door had a sawn-off in hand and was pointed at the windows. He reached for the handle.

“Oh sure I do,” Rance said. “We’re gonna spend it, keep it in Leadville, see to it as many bellies as possible are filled. Your job was to take it to men who’ll hoard it.”

“Last warning.” The driver said.

A shot rang out ahead of me, I saw the smoke from Buck’s gun, the fella at shotgun pitched forward–

Our man opened the door, pointed the gun inside, a second shot fired and a cloud of gunsmoke billowed out into the street, Denny caught it square in the chest and jaw and it threw him down, blood misted the air with the smoke.

The driver went for his pistol, looked up at me, I fired before he cleared leather, his hat flew off behind him, Rance fired into his chest, and Buck fired again.

I jumped over the railing, dropped to the street below while the others focused fire into the wagon itself. Splinters flew off, gunsmoke hung thick in the air, thick and choking, people screamed and sprinted away from the street.

“Eyes west!” Rance yelled. “Buck, what do you see?”

“Sheriff’s runnin’ this way!” Buck was still up on the second floor of the general store and had his rifle to his shoulder. He fired at the lawmen, far away. The shots went wide, but it slowed them down while they took cover, began to return fire.

They’d flank around the side streets, and run up at us.

“We gotta be gone,” I said. “They’re gonna circle around and pin us!”

“Get my goddamn gold!” Rance roared. “Clear that fucking coach!”

I whipped around, approached the coach. I couldn’t see much inside, the curtains were tattered now, the interior was dark, I saw a couple of slumped forms, but not much else besides. A heavy case on the floor with several bolted locks on the front, metal hinges on the wooden case.

Everyone inside was dead.

I slung my rifle across my back, grabbed for the case, but I couldn’t move it alone.

“Buck, keep ‘em pinned down, everybody else here!” Rance called out, Skinny Jimmy appeared on the other side, he jumped into the coach, grabbed the other side of the case, and heaved.

It broke loose, he shimmied over and I backed up, we staggered away from the coach.

Nearby, Jesse came around the corner with a one-horse cart. We got the crate into the cart–

“Skinny, go on with the box! You too,” Rance pointed at me, I jumped up on the buck board, took my Winchester in my hands.

Jesse whipped the horse, it dug in and pulled away fast. He steered us into an alley, got off the main street, cut through the narrow space between two buildings, emerged on the next street.

Jimmy sat in the back with his rifle, half-sprawled on the crate.

“That’s a damn good time,” Jesse said. “A damn good goddamn time.”

Jesse was older, had rough stubble on his chin constantly, fewer teeth than most, old eyes. But he was great with horses and he could always round up a cart or two when we needed one.

I looked around for someone who wanted to shoot back, but there was no one.

“Slow down,” I said, as Jesse took another corner. I tugged my bandana down, “Skinny, sit up.”

“We’re not clear yet though!”

“Look around, look at all the other traffic.”

There were carts all over. Folks pulling all kinds of loads up and down Leadville. “Who are we amongst all’a them?” I asked. “Cool off, keep your gun down. We ain’t runnin’, we’re just out for a ride, right?”

“Sure thing,” Jesse said. “Just goin’ on a nice morning spin.”

“Exactly.” I laid my rifle across my knees, lowered the hammer. “We’re fine.”

I kept my eyes up, however. Looked for someone ready to holler.

But there was nothing.

We got to the edge of town, where the houses were spaced further apart. The thick mud of more populous Leadville gave way to drier ground, and grass near the barn we pulled up to.

I jumped out, grabbed the barn door, opened up. Jesse got the cart and the horse inside, and I watched, waited for the others.

I didn’t see them behind me, immediately, so I closed up. “Skinny, you know where I post up in that shack up the road?”

“Sure, only got the one window.”

“Head on over there. Whistle if you see lawmen.”

“Got it.” He grabbed his rifle, headed up the road.

Jesse sat on the bench, and sighed. “How much you think we snagged?”

“Client said it weighed a hundred pounds,” I said. “If that’s true, I’m the goddamn mayor.”

“Oh you know those city folk,” he said. “Can’t reckon the real weight of nothin’.”

“Sure.”

“You want some coffee?”

“I’m good. Keep your eyes out, if you’re gonna whip something up though.”

“We’re not gonna get ambushed here.” He said. “Because that’d require someone knowing where we were.”

“We know,” I said. “And the client knows. And I got no idea who might’ve been told beyond that circle. Which is, in my estimation, entirely too many folks.”

“Relax, kid.” Jesse said. “Trust ain’t a bad idea. And this ain’t that kinda gang.”

“Is it not?”

He shrugged, but had no other answer.

I watched the road. And waited.

End of Chapter One

[avintagekiss24]

Hot for teacher [4] > Bucky Barnes

PAIRING; Dark!Professor!Bucky Barnes x black!reader, Dark!Peter Parker x black!reader

WORD COUNT; 7,973

WARNINGS; Age difference, teacher/student dynamics, spanking, smut, sex, loss of virginity, vaginal fingering, mention of blood, slight praise kink, slight crying kink?, overstimulation

SUMMARY; A friend comes to your defense and Bucky finally gives in.

NOTE; Gif credit goes to @/fluturojdallandyshia! I wanna say/reiterate that Cher, reader, and Peter are in their senior/last year of school AND they are all 18 years old. I had a “late” birthday (May), so I turned 18 three weeks before I graduated. My brother had an early birthday (September), so he turned 18 like two weeks into his senior year. Peter, Cher, and reader all have early (August/September) birthdays. Any crap about aging Peter up will be deleted and blocked. You’ve been warned multiple times - if you continue to read after this point, it’s on you.

I also gave reader a last name. Sue me. Hope this lives up to the hype... I’m probably gonna hide for the rest of the night and not look at tumblr for the rest of the night... posting anxiety sucks.

Any mistakes are mine, I was rushing towards the end, lol.

☞ PART FIVE | ☞ SERIES MASTERLIST

You toss your freshly braided hair over your shoulder as you move through the halls towards Bucky’s classroom. You’re actually pretty excited. Sure, you were fuming for most of the day yesterday but after a joint and an appointment with your vibrating boyfriend, your mind cleared. Your mother's words came floating back to you, and you knew what you had to do. Kill ‘em with kindness. After all, healthy competition goes both ways. 

You turn into his room, finding it empty, but the light on. No bother, you just move up the rows and plop down in your seat, pulling out your laptop. You don’t even look up when Cher walks in - late, of course - and sign loudly when she acknowledges you.

“Didn’t realize sucking up started this early.”

“And yet here you are,” you smile quickly, “Late, but here, nevertheless.”

She rolls her eyes, mumbling something about you being a bitch before she sits in her seat. Bucky arrives some minutes later, a cup of coffee in his hand, his glasses low on his nose, “Morning ladies. My apologies, I'm dragging ass today, had to get some coffee.”

You don’t answer. You don’t even look up from your screen as you tap away, finishing up your English paper. You hear the two of them making conversation, flicking your eyes up as Cher moves to the desk, leaning over it to no doubt show off the boob job her father paid for over the summer. Her irritating laughter rings out, but you pay it absolutely no mind until you feel a set of eyes on you within minutes. 

“You’re awfully quiet this morning.” Bucky says, tilting his head as you finally glance up at him from over your screen.

“Good morning Bucky.”

You watch as his jaw twitches slightly and his eyes squint at the sound of his first name. You shift in your seat, dropping your eyes back to your google doc, having to literally stop yourself from grinning. You’ve got him already.

“Bucky?” He questions, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

You click your teeth and scrunch your face as you pretend to be confused, “You did say at the beginning of the year to call you Bucky, yes? Has something changed?”

He scoffs lightly, a confused smirk playing on his lips as he rubs his chin, “I did, yes.” He agrees, shaking his head, “I thought you said you preferred Mr. Barnes.”

You shrug, “Well, I guess I don’t anymore.” You cut your eyes to Cher, who squints back at you, her lip slightly snarled, “If you want to be called Bucky, then I’ll call you Bucky.” You lift your eyes back to his, crossing your legs, “Just like everyone else.”

You drop your eyes back to your Macbook and fill the silence by tapping away at your keyboard again. You feel his eyes on you for a few seconds more before Cher draws his attention with some bullshit question. You stay true to course, never lifting your eyes back to him as he throws random looks at you, trying to get your attention as the class starts to fill up. 

You close your laptop but never really give him your full attention as you usually do as he begins his lecture. You glance out the window, or keep your eyes cast down on your pristine white shoes You gaze at your nails, making a mental note to schedule an appointment. You keep your legs crossed. You don’t engage, you don’t answer any questions, you don’t offer any insight. You just sit there -  like everyone else. 

His eyes are on you the entire hour. He poses questions, but ignores the raised hands for a few moments, waiting for yours to pop up into the air. When it doesn’t, his eyes linger on you for a few beats before he finally calls on someone. His questions get short, his thoughts sort of jumbled as the time dwindles. You smile. This is going to be easier than you thought. 

The bell rings and you fall in line with everyone else, heading towards the door. A hand catches your bicep and you sigh, but you keep your eyes straight ahead. Bucky nods and smiles at a few students before he turns his attention to you.

“You stopping by after class?” He asks gently, “I got something in my pants you might like.”

You smile back at him, cocking your head, “No, I can’t make it today.”

His lips part as his eyes bounce back and forth between yours, “Why not?”

“I have a riding lesson with Mr. Udaku.”

He laughs in disbelief as he runs his hand through his hair, “A riding lesson?” He repeats, “That early in the afternoon?”

“Yes.”

He clears his throat as irritation starts to bubble in his chest, “You gave me your schedule. Wednesday through Friday, six to eight, twice a day Saturday and Sunday.”

You shrug, “Not anymore.”

You take a step from him, but he stops you, grabbing your arm again. You turn towards him, your lips set in a hard line. He looks back at you, crossing his arms over his chest as you refuse to give in.

“Come on,” he says after the last student clears the room, “What is going on?”

“Nothing.” You shrug again as you answer sweetly, “What do you mean?”

“You’ve barely spoken to me today. This isn’t about yesterday, is it?” He probes, wrapping his arms around your waist, “I was just joking. You know you’re my favorite girl.”

You smile. It’s too late for that. You step out of his arms and head for the door as his eyes follow you, “You were absolutely right, Bucky,” you stress, “A little competition is healthy. For everyone.” 

You turn and walk out before he can respond.

----------

You brush down Apollo, your most prized possession as he neighs gently. You shush him, patting him softly on his side before you kiss him on his snout. He shakes his head and you laugh, reaffirming his good boy status just as Cher walks into the stalls. You throw your eyes at her as she stops in her tracks before rebounding quickly and moving to her horse’s stall.

“And just what are you doing here?” She asks.

“Isn’t it obvious? I have a lesson.”

You hear her scoff, “I’m not stupid.”

“You sure about that?” You giggle, rolling your eyes, “I moved my lessons to mirror yours, just so I can crush you everyday of the week. Show you who’s boss.” 

She tuts, batting her big eyes, “You just can’t stand it that Barnes doesn’t want you anymore.”

“Please,” you scoff, “Just the fact that he’s entertaining you, makes me reconsider his intelligence.”

You smile sweetly as you grab Apollo’s reins and start to walk him out of the barn. You lean into her and push some of her blonde hair off of her shoulder, “You fuck with me, I fuck with you. You should have stayed in your place, little girl.”

She slaps your hand away and you laugh before moving out into the field. You place your foot into the stir up and hoist yourself up onto Apollo, adjusting yourself on the saddle. You start a slow trot around the fenced in area, warming him up before you start working the obstacle course. 

Your lesson goes exactly how you thought it would, compliment after compliment from Mr. Udaku, (or T’Challa, as many of his students call him) about your form, your technique, your skill - while Cher struggled to keep up. Pride swells in your chest as you gaze upon her flustered, red face as she rips off her helmet and runs her fingers through her hair.

“Cher, you still need to work on not bouncing as much when you canter, you're still gripping too hard with your legs. Here,” T’Challa says,  “Watch Ms. Prescott.” 

He waves you forward and you start a canter with Apollo, your body moving naturally with his, “See how relaxed she is? You gotta let your legs stay soft. You have to remember to stay aligned with Cotton’s body or you’ll never be a smooth rider. Thank you Ms. Prescott.”

“Not a problem,” you coo sweetly, “I’m always here to help. You have my number Cher, you can text me anytime if you need any pointers.”

She narrows her eyes at you as she exhales hard, “Thank you.” She hisses as sarcasm drips from her words. 

“I mean, now that I’ve switched my schedule, we’ll get to ride together more. I don’t mind showing you the ropes. I know you’ve only started riding a few years ago.” You smile widely, continuing to step on her throat.

“I think that’s a good idea actually,” T’Challa agrees, “There’s no shame in asking for help sometimes Cher. Ms. Prescott’s knowledge and skill set could really help elevate your riding. You know she and Apollo are three time Champions.”

“Going for four,” you smile proudly, “Cher was there, cheering me on for all three of my wins. What did you place last year?” You ask, knowing good and damn well she was disqualified from your skill class.

“Fuck you,” she mouths.

Your smile practically breaks your face in two. Kill ‘em with kindness. You pull Apollo away from T’Challa and Cher, starting another slow trot around the fence. You glance over your shoulder and spot Bucky walking through the grass. You squint slightly, pulling on the reins to slow Apollo to a stop. You’ve never seen him out here before. He must be checking up on you, seeing if you really had a lesson this afternoon. You smile again. Men.

You click your tongue quickly and pat Apollo on his hip, turning him back towards the two teachers. You ride just close enough to hear their conversation but not close enough to where they’d know you’re snooping. You jump Apollo over the hogsback in the center of the arena as their conversation wafts towards you.

“I didn’t know she rode this early in the day, especially on Tuesdays.” You hear Bucky say.

“She usually doesn’t, but she texted me last night wanting to change her schedule to free up her weekends. She wouldn’t tell me why. It’s not like she really needs to practice this hard.”

You glance over at the two of them at the fence and meet Bucky’s gaze. You blink back at him, never one to back down from a staring contest, and quirk your eyebrows up your forehead. He turns his attention back toT’Challa, before he sends his gaze towards Cher. You turn Apollo again, trotting him over to another jump. 

You cut your eyes over your shoulder, watching Bucky shrug, “She’s been my TA for a few weeks. I just thought it was kinda sudden that she couldn’t stop by after class today.”

T’Challa slaps him on the shoulder, “I’m sorry man. Didn’t mean to steal your help away.”

“No, no,” you hear Bucky say before he links his eyes with yours again, “We’re just going to have to share her it seems.” He shakes T’Challa’s hand, “I’ll catch you later, huh?”

You watch as he moves back across the grass, running his hand through his hair as he bows his head. You let Apollo cool down for a few more minutes before you ride him back into the stalls. You brush him down again, before cleaning out his stall and laying down some fresh hay for him. You give him his dinner, feed him a few carrots as a treat for a job well done and rub noses before kissing him again. 

“You’re the only man I can depend on. See you tomorrow baby.”

You remove your gloves as you move out from the back of the barn, jumping slightly and clutching your chest when you come face to face with one Bucky Barnes, “Bucky -”

“Stop calling me that.” He answers sternly, his hands in his pockets, “You switched your riding schedule? Really?”

You shrug definitely, “So I wanted more lessons during the week, shoot me.”

“T’Challa said you don’t even need them. You’re just fucking with me.”

You giggle, “And Cher,” you add, “This isn’t all about you.”

“Can we just knock it off please? I’m sorry, okay? I told you, I was just joking yesterday.” He says with a huff, running his hands through his hair again.

You cross your arms over your chest, a smirk on your face and a sing-song tune in your voice, “But I’m just getting started, Bucky.”

“This isn’t funny.”

“Oh,” you laugh, “It’s a little funny. Look at you all worked up.” You mock, bopping his nose with your index finger, “You’re cute when you’re mad.”

“Hey. Prescott.”

You snap your head back towards the new voice, taking a quick step away from Bucky. You smile as the young Peter Parker leans up against the fence, nodding his head at you, “Peter Parker. How are you?”

“You got a minute?”

Your smile widens, “Of course.”

Bucky grabs your arm again before you step away from him, “I’m not finished talking to you.”

You pull away from him, “Well, I’m finished talking to you.” You state, stepping away from him, “I’ve been involved in competition my whole life, Bucky. I don’t cave and I certainly don’t lose. You wanted a competition, now you got one.” 

You turn on your heel and bounce towards the waiting Peter. He stands up straight, smiling at you again but keeps his eyes on Bucky as he walks off. Once you’re close enough, he nods towards him, “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

You wave it off, “No interruption. I don’t see you out here much.”

“Nah, I came by to see you. I think we can help each other out.”

“God,” you roll your eyes playfully, “You read my mind. I smoked my last joint last night.”

“Not with that,” he laughs, “Well, I can help you with that too, but I have something else in mind.”

You raise your eyebrows, intrigued with him, “Oh?”

“Word’s getting around that you and Cher are battling over Barnes.” You shoot your eyes towards him, “You know she’s got a big mouth.”

“Fuck,” you mutter.

“Don’t worry. Everybody here has something on them, nobody is gonna snitch for fear of it coming back on them ten times over.” He says slowly, scrunching his face slightly as he faces the sun, “That’s what I thought I could help you with.”

You cross your arms as you glance around the deserted area, “How’s that?”

“You know Cher and I fucked around for a while late last semester, right before summer. Turns out, the fucking bitch burned me.”

“Ugh,” you grimace, “You’re kidding?”

“No. My parents intercepted the test results. That’s why my ass has been on lock down. Plus, I had to be on a fucking regimen of antibiotics to get rid of the shit. Killed my fucking game for the summer, man.”

You giggle a little, bumping your shoulder with his, “Sorry to hear it, but what exactly does that have to do with me, Parker?”

“It would kill her if we hooked up,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows, “Barnes too. He hates me.”

You inhale deeply as your lips curl into another devilish smile, “I didn’t know you had Barnes.”

“I have him in the afternoon. He busts my balls over every little fucking thing.” He rolls his eyes, “Cher is absolutely obsessed with you, it would drive her nuts. It’s the best revenge that I can get and I know you love making her feel second best.”

“It gives me great joy, actually.” You watch as Peter laughs, “Alright Parker, you got yourself a deal, but we need to draw some lines.”

“Okay,” he nods, shoving his hands in his pockets, “Lay ‘em out.”

“I don’t,” you start, clearing your throat, “I haven’t fucked-fucked yet and I'd like to keep it that way.”

“Saving it for Barnes?” He teases.

“Fuck you,” you giggle, “Make outs, blow jobs, heavy petting… whatever, I’m down with all of that, just no fucking. Deal?”

He holds out his hand and you take it, shaking it to make it official, “A woman confident in her sexuality. I love it.” He pecks you on the cheek before he starts to walk off, “It’ll be a pleasure doing business with you.” He calls.

“Same to you, Parker.” You smile, “Same to you.”

----------

You and Peter keep your newfound “romance” on the low for the next few days, as not to arouse any sudden suspicions. You continue to show up to Bucky’s class a half hour early (always making it in before Cher) and completely ignore him. You catch up on homework, you read, you paint your nails. Your nonchalant attitude towards him has continued to get under his skin, as his frustration and irritation has bled over into his lectures. Everyone picks up on his attitude, even Cher, now also receiving a cold shoulder from him in the mornings and afternoons. 

You and Peter decide to start your attack bright and early Monday morning. You meet up in the parking lot, hanging out next to his car, laughing and joking with a few of his baseball teammates. You walk in around seven fifty, twenty minutes after Bucky has been expecting you, hand in hand. Peter throws his arm over your shoulders, pulling you into his body as the two of you make your way through the halls. 

You pass by the open door of Bucky’s room and Peter stops purposefully in front of it as he calls for one of his friends down the hall. You glance into the room, but quickly cut your eyes away as you find Bucky and Cher gaping out at the two of you - Cher practically flipping over her desk she’s leaning so far forward. You and Peter push forward out of sight and you lean against the lockers, pulling him into you.

You kiss him hard, making him moan in surprise at first but he quickly follows suit. You smack your lips on his a few times before he pulls away, resting his forehead to yours as he drags his finger down your now swollen lips. The two of you whisper back and forth, smiling and giggling all the while before he leans into you again, capturing your lips. 

A throat clears loudly from beside the two of you, but you both ignore it, continuing to giggle and kiss as if you don’t hear a thing.

“Guys,” you hear Bucky sigh, “Break it up.”

“Oh, Mr. Barnes,” Peter laughs, wrapping his fingers around your neck softly - possessively, “Shit, man. Sorry about that. Didn’t even hear you, did you babe?”

You shake your head, “Nope. Sorry Bucky.” You peck Peter on his lips again before reaching up to wipe away the excess lip gloss you left behind, “You’ll walk me to my next class, yes?”

He winks at you before dipping back into you to kiss you once, twice, three more times, causing Bucky to speak up again.

“Guys, I mean it. You aren’t on a beach somewhere and you need to watch your mouth, Parker.” He sighs loudly, “Ms. Prescott, your seat please.”

You roll your eyes and push away from the lockers, you and Peter linking hands and extending your arms as you both walk in different directions.

“I’ll be right here after class babe.” He says, winking again.

“Ms. Prescott.” Bucky barks before pushing a hot breath out of his nose.

When your hands actually come undone, you wiggle your fingers at him before tossing your braids over your shoulder and push past the verklempt Bucky. You step past Cher, and she grabs your wrist, pulling you down into her.

“So you want my sloppy seconds all of a sudden?”

“Sloppy seconds?” You repeat, laughing lightly as you tilt your head, “Sweetie, it’s the restaurant metaphor all over again. Peter moved on from a bug infested pizza parlor to a clean five star restaurant. You’re still the sloppy one here.” You wink. 

You revel in Bucky’s anger for the entire hour. He continuously cuts his eyes towards you, now dark and brooding, but you smirk back and drop your eyes to your book, not giving him the satisfaction. Your legs stay crossed and your panties stay dry - much to his chagrin. Peter is right there by the door as soon as the bell rings. The two of you intertwine your fingers and swing them back and forth as you walk down the hall, two pairs of eyes on you all the while. 

“Mr. Barnes, I-”

“Not now, Cher.” Bucky bites back, running his hand through his hair again quickly before he damn near shoves her out of the classroom, slamming the door.

----------

You pull your next stunt in the library a few days later. It’s a study period, so there’s a few more teachers and students loitering around than usual - Bucky just happens to be one of the loiterers. Peter pulls you through the bookshelves by the tips of your fingers, finding the perfect position for the two of you to be aligned within Bucky’s eyesight. 

He’s perched at a table, his glasses low on his nose as he scribbles into his notebook before returning his gaze to the thick book just off to this left. Peter pushes you up against one of the bookshelves, jarring a few of the books loose from their spots and sending them crashing to the floor. You laugh, and Peter covers your mouth with his hand as he leans in and kisses your neck. His other hand snakes up between your thighs and pushes into your skirt, his fingertips brushing along your sex.

You push your chest into his and sink your teeth into your bottom lip as your hooded eyes flick towards Bucky. His jaw is tensed as he stares back at you. His lips are set in a hard, thin line, his face flushed red as his chest rises and falls harder than before. He falls back into his chair and crosses his arms over his chest, almost daring you to keep going - to keep pushing him. 

You dig one of your hands into Peter’s hair, pulling softly and hissing when his teeth sink into the fleshy crook of your neck. You push your hips into his fingers as he teases your clit with light, soft strokes. He licks a slow path up your neck and chin before he kisses you deeply and pulls you suddenly out of Bucky’s sight. 

“This is fun,” he laughs against your mouth, kissing you again as he squeezes your hip.

You giggle in return, tilting your head up towards the ceiling, silently asking him to continue. He obliges, and starts sucking on your skin again, pushing his hand back between your thighs. He slips his fingers underneath your panties and moans when the slickness of your sex coats his fingers. You let out a small moan as your hips move with his fingers. You grab his free hand and push it to your left breast, helping him to grab a handful of you. 

You gasp suddenly when Peter’s fingers push inside of you. You laugh again but spread your legs instinctively, raising one slightly to rub his calf. You feel him laugh against you as his fingers pump softly, his palm rubbing against your clit. 

“Fuck, Peter,” you say softly, pushing your body into his again as he finger fucks you up against the wall of books. 

You roll your head and jump when those familiar blue eyes are on you again, this time just on the other side of the bookshelf in front of you. Your mouth falls open as you stare back at him over the tops of the books. He slides a book off of the shelf, removing his eyes from yours to flip through the pages before he slides his angry eyes back to yours. He runs his eyes along Peter’s body, then halts at his hand as it pumps into you. 

You snarl your lip as a pang of excitement flashes through you. You’ve never been watched like this before - it’s kinda fun. You keep your eyes on Bucky’s as Peter’s hand quickens inside of you, his palm beating against your clit. You bite down into your bottom lip as you rest your chin on his shoulder, your head falling forward as your orgasm starts to build. 

“Shit,” you whine, your breath growing ragged as your hips pulse with the pace of his fingers. 

You lift your leg a little higher as the lust in your stomach starts to flood through your veins. You wrap your arms around his neck and ball his t-shirt into your hands, struggling to keep your eyes open as Bucky peers on. You watch as he runs his tongue over his teeth, blinking at you slowly, anger brimming just below his surface. He doesn’t shy away though, he doesn’t walk off, he doesn’t lash out, he just flips aimlessly through the random book he picked up as he watches as you come all over Peter’s fingers.

You slam your eyes shut at your orgasm rips through you. Peter moans as he slams his fingers into your wet, tight muscles. His free hand creeps back up to your face and covers your mouth, stifling the squeaks and squeals that dribble from your lips. Peter crushes you to the bookshelf with his weight, chuckling as he nips at your chin and neck. You keep your bottom lip between your teeth as you smirk at Bucky. You wanted a competition, now you got one. 

Peter pulls out his phone and lifts it into the air, hitting record as you still lean up against the bookshelf, still panting and giggly as your body floats on cloud nine. He smiles slowly into the camera, before leaning in and kissing you deeply, his tongue skimming along the roof of your mouth before it slides along yours. He situates your panties and skirt, like the gentleman he is, before he tugs at your wrist to pull you out from between the aisles. 

When he clears the bookshelves, he stops suddenly when he locks eyes with Bucky just on the other side. He nods his head towards him, before shoving his wet fingers into his mouth. He licks them clean before he pulls them out with a soft pop and  glances back into his camera, throwing a wink it’s way. The two of you waltz out of the library, smiles on both of your faces. You hear Peter’s phone as it starts to sound, ding after ding after ding as a quick flurry of text messages slide through. 

He pulls it out and snorts before he tilts it towards you, Cher’s name flashing across it as a call comes through.

“This is going tremendously.” He smiles, declining the call and sliding the sleek phone back into his pocket.

----------

You glance down at your watch as you whistle slowly; 8:06am. You’re now officially late to Bucky’s class, and officially late for the first time in over four years. You turn down his hallway, scrolling through your tumblr as you come to his closed door. You push through and feel the eyes of the entire class on you as you waltz in without a care in the world. Bucky’s lecture comes to a halt as he slides his eyes with you as you pick your way through the seats to find yours.

You sit, taking your time as you pull out your notebook and pen while everyone watches, just as surprised as Bucky that you’re late. You take a deep breath and expel it calmly as you finally glance up at him.

“Good morning.” You say cheerfully. 

He crosses his arms over his chest and licks his lips slowly, “You’re late.”

“Oh,” you sigh a little, glancing at your watch, “Sorry about that.”

“We had a deal at the beginning of the semester.” He says, his voice deep.

You cross your legs and swing your foot lightly, “Did we?”

He narrows his eyes at you as he pulls his glasses off of his face, “Should I remind you?”

“Please.” You nod, “It’s slipped my mind.”

He nods slowly, starting to pace, “You wanted me to hold you personally responsible if you were ever late.”

You squint your eyes as you tilt your chin towards the ceiling, pretending to rack your brain, “That’s right, I did. That little check mark next to my name on the attendance sheet is gonna hurt.”

“Oh no,” He chuckles as you challenge him so openly, “You wanted to be held responsible. A little check mark isn’t going to do that.”

You smirk, “So what’ll it be, Bucky?”

“Detention.”

Your face drops. Detention? Detention? For one fucking tardy?! “Detention?” you repeat, sitting up a little straighter in your seat, “That’s a little harsh, don’t you think?”

He turns back to face you, leaning back on his desk as he kicks his legs out in front of him. He shrugs, shaking his head, “You asked for it.”

“You’re joking,” you laugh, your mind starting to race, “A detention for being late one time? Have you handed out a detention to anyone else?”

He shrugs, “Nope. But you’re not everyone else, are you?”

You squint your eyes at him as he smirks back. This is the only way he could get back at you - to tarnish your perfect record. Your body flushes with heat - you honestly didn’t expect this. This… this is below the belt. You’d figured that he’s been so out of sorts that he’d just slap you on the wrist and beg to see him after class. You’d trade barbs back and forth, he’d eat your pussy and the two of you would be right back on track, like this never happened. But this?

“I’m getting you ready for real life. That’s what you wanted me to do, isn’t it?”

A chorus of oooh’s ring out from the rest of the class as you throw your braids over your shoulder angrily, “I have a riding lesson at three twenty five today.”

“I’ll talk to T’Challa if you’d like me to.”

You laugh sarcastically, “This is ridiculous. This’ll go on my record, you realize that?”

He shrugs again as he pushes away from his desk, “Maybe you should have thought about that. Now,” he smiles, turning his attention back to the rest of the class,  “Where were we?”

He completely turns the tables on you after that. He ignores you for the rest of his lecture. His mood lightens considerably. He cracks jokes, he banters with other classmates as you stew in your anger. When class is over, he holds out your detention slip between his fingers, which you snatch and crumple up in your hand as you pass by without so much as a glance in his direction. 

Asshole.

The final bell of the day rings hours later and you start the trek towards Dr. Banner’s room, the resident detention monitor. He’s surprised to see you and gives you a reassuring smile as you head to the back of the room, plopping down in one of the desks. You catch Mitchell Bryant, the fifth year senior and fuck up extraordinaire, smirking at you and roll your eyes deeply before shifting in your seat to block him from your line of vision. 

You busy yourself with your trigonometry homework, actually getting into it within a few minutes. The door opens and you flip your eyes towards it, doing a double take when you spot Bucky walking in. He smiles at Dr. Banner, leaning into his desk and muttering something before he heads back to the door. 

“Ms. Prescott?” He calls,  “Grab your stuff and come with me please.”

You cock your head as your eyes instantly narrow at him. You take a deep breath, but stand and collect your things. You walk out into the hallway, finding him waiting for you, “Yes?” you ask, your tone flat and irritated.

He doesn’t answer, he just points forward and waits for you to start walking. You roll your eyes but ultimately obey, your feet carrying you back to his classroom. He enters a few steps behind you, closing the door softly before he flips the lock. 

You spin on your heel to face him as your bag hangs off of your shoulder, “What is it, Bucky?”

“Drop your bag. Put your hands flat on the desk.”

His voice is deep and eerily calm. Your lips part and your eyes widen a little as you stand in your spot. He cocks his head when you still don’t move, “Did you not hear what I said? Hands flat on the desk. Now.”

You drop your bag from your shoulder and move to his desk, flattening your palms on the top of it. You’ve never heard him like this before - so stern. You swallow hard as your eyes dart around the chalkboard in front of you. You feel his presence behind you, hearing the material of his tie rubbing against his shirt as he loosens it, before pulling it from around his neck. 

You jump when he slaps lightly at the insides of your thighs, “Open sesame.”

You spread your legs wider as his fingertips brush along your soft skin. His hand slides up your spine slowly and pushes you forward until your chest is resting flush against his desk. Your breath becomes audible as he pushes his hips into your ass, making you gasp when you feel his hard on pressing into your flesh. 

He grabs your right wrist, bending your arm to place your hand in the small of your back before he reaches for the left. You then feel the soft silk of his tie as it wraps around your wrists, looping around them both before he ties it tightly into a nice, firm knot. Without warning, he bucks into your ass, jolting you forward as you gasp loudly again. 

“You are one smart cookie, Ms. Prescott.” He says softly, running his hands along your hips and ass, “I underestimated you.”

“Mental warfare is my specialty.”

You bite your lip as your body starts to warm from his touch. A moan escapes you as he rucks your skirt up around your hips and groans at the sight of your sheer, pink panties. You close your eyes as his fingers dance along your plump ass, cupping it in both of his large palms and jiggling it gently.

“Nervous?”

You shake your head definitely, “Of course not.”

“Never one to show weakness, huh? I like that.”

You let out a sharp scream when a hard slap is suddenly leveled to your behind. Your body tightens as you pull against the tie wrapped around your wrists. He spanks you twice again in quick succession and you slam your eyes closed as you squeal and squirm underneath him. He pushes his hand back between your legs, his fingers brushing along the sudden, new wet spot on your panties. Goddamn him.

“I’ve gotta give it to you, Prescott,” he says softly as his fingers push underneath your panties and slip through your wet folds, “You had me going. I was jealous.”

You hiss as you roll your hips into his hand, “I told you Bucky - “

He spanks you again, the sound of his flesh meeting yours bouncing off of the chalkboard, “That’s not my name.”

“Fuck!” You mewl as the sting radiates through you, but you don’t give in. Not quite yet.

“What were you saying, darling?” He coos as his fingers travel to your hips and dig underneath the thin band of your panties.

He pulls them down slowly, slipping them over your feet. You hear him inhale deeply seconds later before his fingers slip through your folds again. Your mouth drops open as he plays with your clit, drawing slow circles around it before he pushes two of his thick fingers into you. His thumb pushes between your ass cheeks and flattens against your tight hole, applying a slight pressure as he starts to pump his fingers slowly. 

“Did you have fun with the young Peter Parker?” He asks, pushing his hips flush to your behind, “Hmm? Did he make you feel good?”

You whimper as his fingers curl inside of you, his thumb pushing just inside. When you don’t answer fast enough, he spanks you again, making you squeal loudly. He pushes his thumb further and you squeeze your muscles as tight as you can as you tilt your head towards the ceiling, relishing in the electricity bouncing through you. His fingers push deeper in your pussy and you growl as you run your tongue over your teeth. 

“Yes.” You hiss, the smart ass in you still winning out, “You were there, Bucky. You saw how good he made me feel.”

He chuckles deeply, removing his fingers from you before he pulls you up into a standing position. He turns you around  to face him and picks you up, sitting you gently on top of his desk. He stays nose to nose with you, his eyes bouncing around your face as he smirks. He lifts his fingers to your mouth, smoothing your wetness over your bottom lip. 

You lick your lip slowly before you suck it into your mouth, blinking up at him slowly as you swallow your taste. He kisses you hard, wrapping his hands around your neck and pulling you into him as his tongue bursts into your mouth. You moan, letting your head fall back into his hands as you accept him, sucking on his tongue as you pull lightly against the tie still around your wrists. 

He pulls back slowly, pulling your bottom lip with him before he lets go. He tilts his head as his fingers drop to the buttons on your shirt, popping them one by one until it falls open. He flips his eyes back to yours as he starts undoing his pants, letting them slightly  fall down his hips. You bite your lip as you watch him push his hand into his black boxer briefs, stroking himself. He pulls his dick free and you inhale deeply, your eyes growing wide as he springs out from behind the stretchy material. 

“That little prick couldn’t satisfy you.” He says quietly, “Not like I can, baby girl. I’m a grown man.”

Your mouth falls open as he pushes the tip of his dick along your throbbing clit and through your folds. He pushes your legs open wider, wrapping your right limb around his hip. He pushes at your slit, positioning himself right at your opening. 

“What’s my name baby?”

You bite your bottom lip again as your lips start to curl into a smile. You bat your eyes at him but shake your head - not giving an inch. 

He smiles back at you, “You are stubborn as all fucking hell.”

“You started it.”

“I suppose I did,” He laughs, leaning in to kiss you softly, “You’re my perfect little princess.” He says, “You always were, you always will be.”

“And?”

“I’m sorry,” he says, cupping your face in his hands, “Don’t be mad at me anymore.”

You breathe in confidently, pushing it out of your nose as pride swells in your chest. You never cave. You never lose, “Apology accepted.”

“Good. Can I fuck you now?”

You nod slowly, “Of course you can, Mr. Barnes.”

He bites your lips and growls at the sound of his name tripping off your tongue with such ease. He grabs his shaft, slipping the head of his cock through your folds again before he stops at your slit. He wraps his other arm around your waist and starts to push slowly, breaking into your tight canal. You squeak as your muscles spread for his flesh for the first time, hissing as a delicious pain courses through you. 

His mouth drops open as he watches you swallow him. He pushes a focused breath out of his mouth as he pushes until he completely disappears inside of you. A tear slips down your cheek as he pulls out and slides back in. You dig your nails into his desk as you adjust your hips - the pain and the pleasure of it all mixing and melting together into a perfect harmony. 

You moan loudly as he fucks you nice and slow. He pushes his fingers to your clit and rubs quick circles against it as he sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, his eyes hooded as he watches you squirm and writhe.

“This is what a real man feels like,” he says softly, digging his fingertips into your hip as he fucks you, “Do I feel good, baby?”

“Yes,” you answer breathlessly, tears streaming down your face, “You feel so good.”

“Mmm,” he grunts, “You are such a good girl. You’re taking me so well.”

Your head swims as he praises you, stroking your ego, making you clench around him. His hips start to move faster as his hands run up and down your thighs, gripping and kneading your flesh. His fingers roam up to your breasts, pushing into your bra to tease your thick nipples, adding a new sensation to the mix. He drops his right hand back between your legs, pressing the pads of his fingers against your clit and starts to rub again, his other fingers still pulling and flicking at your aroused buds. 

Your hips jerk without warning, pushing his cock into you deeper, pulling a guttural scream out of you. Your eyes continue to leak as your head spins and your body tightens and flexes. A shutter runs up your spine, your thighs shake. You tighten them around his waist and try to grip the desk below you as a dull ache sits in the pit of your stomach. 

He fucks into you faster - recognizing that you’re starting to come undone as he overloads your senses. He rolls your nipple between his fingers, pinching and pulling as he continues to rub your clit and pump his hips into yours.

“You gonna come for me?” He starts to coax softly, “Hmm? Is my girl gonna come?”

My girl. Your brain can’t even form a coherent sentence. You’re nothing but sensation as he pushes you right to the edge of the cliff. His strokes get harder, his fingers faster as he rests his forehead to yours. He leaves your nipple to wrap his hand around your throat. His hot breath washes over your face as he kisses you quickly.

“I want my girl to come. Come for me, baby. Give it to me, I want to own you.”

You grunt as your eyes start to roll. He fucks into you as your toes curl with each of his strokes, pushing, pushing, pushing, until he tips you right over the edge. You mewl into the empty room as your orgasm floods through every vein, every muscle, every sensor in your body. He loses his control - pounding into you as hard as he can as your pussy quivers around him.

Your clit jumps with contractions as you tighten your legs around his hips. He coaxes you on, whispering sweet nothings as wave after wave crashes against you. His grunts grow louder and more erratic, his hips faltering every now and again until you feel a sudden warmth burst into you. He hisses as he spurts long, hot ribbons into your cunt over and over again. 

He nearly collapses - having to slam his palm to the top of his desk to hold himself up. His breaths are deep and ragged as his head falls to your shoulder. He leans back after a minute and tilts his head towards the ceiling as he focuses on his breathing, pushing them in and out slow and evenly. 

“Fuck,” he lets out as a laugh rumbles through his chest, “Goddamn.”

He reaches around and unties your wrists before pulling you up into his arms. You throw your arms around his neck and let him wrap your legs around his waist as he walks you around his desk and sits in his chair. He curls you into him, wrapping you up in his warm arms before he sweeps your braids over your shoulder. He kisses your forehead and the top of your head as he strokes your spine gently. 

“You are so pretty when you cry.” He says gently, smiling at you, “My perfect little girl.”

You still can’t talk. You just smile as you nuzzle into him, blinking down at your thighs, a small amount of blood splashed on your skin.

“Can you cancel your riding lessons tomorrow and Sunday?” he asks after a few minutes.

You nod slowly, “Why?”

“I want you all to myself.” He says, pushing his knuckle into your chin to tilt your head up towards his, “I want you to pack a bag for the weekend. I’ll text you my address, okay?”

“Okay.” You say simply. 

“Okay.” He smiles, kissing you again, “Come on, let's get moving.”

You reluctantly climb out of his lap and start to arrange your clothing properly, buttoning up your shirt and smoothing your skirt back down on your hips. Your legs are shaky, your pussy and clit sore, but you’ve never felt better. He grabs your bag and places it on your shoulder as the two of you move to the door. When he opens it, the two of you come face to face with one Cher Goodwin, her hand still in the air as she was just about to knock.

Her lips part as she stares at you, before flicking her eyes towards Bucky, “I thought you had detention.”

You shrug, “You thought wrong.”

She slides her eyes down your frame, squinting as she looks you over. Her face drops as the realization floods through her. Your smile widens. She doesn’t even have to ask.  She runs her hand through her hair roughly as she takes a deep breath, letting the dread of knowing she’s lost again flush through her. She’s come up just short - second place, once again. 

“Cher,” Mr. Barnes starts, “I’m sorry. Something came up, I’m not gonna be able to stick around this afternoon.”

She scoffs, clicking her teeth as she crosses her arms over her chest, “Mr. Barnes, I - “

“I’m sorry,” he cuts her off, “You know, I can get you a couple of names of some really great tutors that can give you all the attention you need. Okay?”

She runs her tongue over her teeth as she stares off into the distance, laughing slightly, “Sure, yeah. Whatever.” 

Bucky pushes past her and out into the hallway, “I’ll have them for you Monday morning, okay? I’m sorry ladies, I gotta split. Have a good weekend. Thanks for all your help Ms. Prescott.”

You smile at her as he moves down the hallway, “Oh, Cher.” You laugh, “Poor thing.”

“I’ll fucking get you.” She sneers, “One of these goddamn days, I will win! I will fucking beat you!” You shouts, stomping her foot.

You nudge her chin with your fist, “It’s cute you still believe that. The only thing you’ll ever have over me, is knowing how second place feels.” You brush past her shoulder as a frustrated tear slips down her cheek.

“Oh,” you say happily, turning back on your heel to face her, “I forgot to tell you. T’Challa signed Apollo and I up for the relay competition on Wednesday. You’re participating in that too, right?” You wink, watching as her eyes fill with dread, “See you there.”

You throw your hand into the air as you walk away from her, wiggling your fingers, “Tootles, darling.”

[ri-ahhh]

van life

I wasn’t gonna post this because it’s just like an overload of unrealistic softness but now that we know that they’re selling the van I think now is the best time if I’m gonna do it lol.

Also I’m sorry I can’t make this shorter on your dash by putting a ‘keep reading’ break. Tumblr is shitty and permanently fucked on my desktop where it just won’t load the page once I’m logged in so I have to do everything through mobile🙄

6k

warnings: fluff, smut, kinda unedited

***

MJ sighs as warm morning sunlight kisses her skin through the passenger window of the tiny house van. She and Grayson had decided to have a beach day to themselves — the first one of summer — and she could’t be more excited. Nothing makes MJ Macias more content and at peace with her life than laying under the Pacific sun until her nose freckles and her skin takes on that healthy golden hue. Wrinkles are a risk she’s willing to take as long as she has a nice, long podcast, something to munch on, and, of course, a good view of her boyfriend in the surf.

That view of him rivals the one of the ocean in her opinion, which is just past his window as they cruise down the PCH on their way to Malibu. MJ wiggles her white-painted toes on the dashboard and smiles as she watches him sing along quietly (and off-key) to the Tame Impala song filling the cabin of the van. She loves his profile so much: the perfect slope of his nose; his full lips; the chunk of hair that swoops across his forehead.

She lifts their clasped hands from where they rest on her thigh with their fingers threaded together, and kisses the back of his wide palm.

“You’re so handsome, Bear,” MJ murmurs against his skin.

Grayson stops singing long enough to look over at her and smile brightly, his eyes hidden behind his black Louis Vuitton sunglasses. He pulls their hands towards himself so he can copy her kiss, only to her her own soft skin.

“My pretty Peach,” he returns with a squeeze to her palm, making MJ flush the color of her pet name. “Always so beautiful in the mornings.”

MJ hums and takes her turn returning their hands back to her lap, trailing her long nails up and down his muscular, veiny forearm. Apparently they’re equally as headass for each other today. “Just in the mornings?” she teases, tickling the sensitive patch of skin near the crook of his elbow.

She can’t see his eyes roll, but she imagines they do as his grin turns playful. “Of course not, but especially in the mornings. Your hair is in that cute braid and your skin is all silky soft and your eyes are extra green.” He takes his eyes off the road for a moment to appraise her looking exactly as he described. “And, you know, usually on the weekends you’d still be naked at this time. I like that part about mornings, too.”

“Oh, Lord,” she laughs with a shake of her head. “Grayson!”

She gasps his name and giggles harder as he completely catches her off guard by moving their hands right over his hardening cock. MJ squeezes him reflexively, and Grayson gives a little grunt as he shifts in his seat with a smirk.

“What?” he asks in mock defense, placing both hands back on the steering wheel. “I had to show you how much you affect me! I only have to think about you naked in our bed and it goes up.”

“That’s sweet,” MJ says, stroking his dick one more time before moving her hand further down his thigh, “but if you think I’m giving you road head in this car on this twisty road, you’re very mistaken.”

Grayson makes an obnoxious little whiny noise in defeat, pouting playfully and muttering dejectedly, “I knew we should have taken the Tesla.”

MJ raises an eyebrow. “Well, we wouldn’t have been able to bring your surfboard. Or be the first ones to christen the tiny house.”

“Oh, shit,” Gray says quietly, surprised. MJ smiles at the small victory of teasing him, her eyes diverting back to the beautiful scenery ahead of them as her mind wanders to all the things they can do in that makeshift bed.

“How about road hand, then, to start it off?”

She lets out a frustrated huff, his request interrupting her daydream. If there was ever a scenario where she didn't trust Grayson, it was one in which he was receiving any overt sexual pleasure whilst controlling a giant motor vehicle.

“Gray, I love you, but you’re pushing it.”

“Understood.”

***

It takes about half an hour for them to reach their destination, but MJ knows it was worth the drive as soon as they exit the car and she inhales the clean, salty air. They park at a little camping lot they had reserved a spot in for the day, the glittering ocean a mere few hundred feet away.

“Surf looks good,” MJ remarks, her hand shielding her eyes as she gazes out at the water. It always makes her a little nervous when Gray goes out in big swells, so the mild waves are a happy sight for her. “Nice and small; just how I like ‘em.”

Grayson looks out as well as he climbs on the roof of the van to retrieve the surfboard. “Funny, I happen to know for a fact you like ‘em long and wide,” he jokes. He just couldn’t help himself, apparently, his wide smile looking down at her from the top of the ladder a clear display of how proud of the stupid joke he is.

MJ watches the exposed muscles in his arms and shoulders ripple under his skin as he begins wrestling with the hooks and ties securing the board to the roof racks. The sight combined with his words and thoughts of what transpired earlier in the car makes her center pulse dangerously.

Needless to say, he’s successfully turned her on despite her best efforts.

“You’re insufferable, Dolan,” she says with a shake of her head. Her body feels heated from his innuendo and also the midmorning sun that is steadily raising the outside temperature. She pulls off the hoodie she had thrown on in the chilly early morning and steps into the back seat to haul out the cooler and beach bag.

“Yeah, but you love me,” his voice comes from right behind her. She turns around and yelps in surprise when she sees Grayson peeking his head upside down into the cab from the roof. He’s inches from her and is just dangling there like an overgrown monkey, which makes her fall back in the seat in a fit of giggles. He wags his brows at her playfully. “Ooh! Spider-Man kiss!”

MJ rolls her eyes good-naturedly and happily scoots over to clasp his cheeks in her hands, granting his wish by planting a sweet kiss to his lips. The scruff on his chin tickles her nose peculiarly, but she’s not mad at it. “Too much. I love you too much, you goof.”

Finally, with all their beach supplies in hand, they walk together towards the ocean. The private beach that they can access with their camp site is quiet and secluded. Best of all, it isn't clogged with tourists or people in general, which they both greatly prefer. Less people means they’re less likely to be bombarded by fangirls, or paparazzi, or any other unwanted distractions from what MJ hopes will be a perfect day.

As soon as the texture under her feet changes from firm concrete to sunken sand, MJ is stopping to remove her flip-flops so her toes can dig into the fine powder. This moment of first stepping on the beach is one of her favorite experiences, as minute and insignificant as it seems.

She looks up at Grayson, who glances back down at her questioningly. “Race ya,” she challenges suddenly, hauling ass to a perfect open spot on the wide expanse of beach. If there’s one thing she and her boyfriend have in common, it’s a highly competitive spirit.

“Cheater!” Grayson calls after her. He has the surfboard under one arm and the cooler slung over his shoulder, but everyone knows Grayson Dolan is the last person to turn down a competition. Which is why he does his best to catch up to her even with the obstacles in his arms holding him back.

The finish line is also only in MJ’s head, so she stops when she finds a spot she likes. She drops their bag and turns around with her arms raised like Rocky. Grayson isn’t very far behind her, being as in-shape as he is he’s reached her quickly, but he slows down earlier than he really needs to so he can take her in. Her breasts heave beneath a leopard print bikini top, loose hairs escape from her messy french braid, and her long legs glitter with the sand she had kicked up on her run.

She’s the most beautiful, dorky, amazing woman he’s ever seen and she is his.

MJ watches smugly as her boyfriend stalks over to her. “I wi—“

Grayson releases everything he’s carrying to the sand and grasps her face in both hands, pulling her in for a long, lingering kiss. MJ lets out a little squeak of surprise, but she melts into him half a second later. Nothing warms her soul more than his lips on hers, and she wraps her arms around his middle to bring them as close together as possible.

When he pulls back, Grayson stares at her with complete, obvious adoration. Ethan would have called him a simp if he were there, that’s how sappy his twin looks. Grayson can’t help himself, though; he is a simp for MJ, and, truthfully, he doesn’t give two shits who knows it as long as he makes her smile up at him like she is now, every day.

It’s why yesterday he had casually opened a new browser window, convincing himself he was just curiously window shopping on the ring section of Tiffany’s and the like… even after he got sucked into the customization tool on one website for nearly two hours.

Shaking his head and biting his lip through a grin, he traces the freckles on MJ’s cheek. “I want a rematch later.”

MJ squeezes him and smacks his ass playfully before releasing him and reaching into the bag for the big blanket. “You’re always such a sore loser,” she teases, unfolding the cloth and weighing it down with Grayson’s help. She digs through the bag again and hands him his wetsuit. “Go catch some waves. I have to catch up on this podcast by this really sexy guy and his twin brother.”

If there could be snapshots of the rest of the day, they would have been out of a picturesque rom-com. For a while, MJ rests on her tummy as she watches Grayson glide through the water, his deep voice simultaneously reverberating in her ears through her AirPods.

Eventually, when he’s done surfing — looking like a beach Adonis when he walks up the shore with the top half of his wetsuit folded down at his hips, surfboard under his arm and his wet abs glistening in the sun — he joins her on the blanket.

In the early afternoon MJ props herself up on her elbow, appraising his form with hungry, appreciative eyes as he tans on his back next to her. He has his hands pillowed behind his head, which causes his biceps to bulge and her thighs to clench. MJ is lost in him as she trails her finger over the features of his face — down his button nose, smoothing over his arched brows, across his rosy cheeks, against his pillowy lips. She smiles as he sighs contentedly and drops a peck to the tip of his nose before settling with her cheek on his chest. He smells like tanning oil and ocean and that clean, woody musk that MJ knows as him.

Later, they wade around in the sea between batches of sun bathing. At some points, he’s holding her waist-deep in the water with her legs wrapped around his middle and arms around his neck, lips connecting occasionally amidst easy conversation. Other times they have full-on water fights that have her squealing and him laughing as they splash each other back and forth.

It isn’t until the orange and pink hues of the sunset paint the sky that they’re brought back to the beach for good. Once they rinse off and have all of their things collected, they head back to the van.

MJ removes her bikini inside while Grayson reattaches the surfboard to the roof. She slips on her sweatshirt and a fresh pair of soft shorts just in time for him to carefully crack open the back door to make sure she’s decent.

Grayson smiles widely as he crawls in on the already made bed where she sits and is piling her damp hair into a messy bun. “So fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, giving her a lingering kiss while her hands are still mid-twist in her long hair.

A pleasant warmth swoops through her belly at his compliment; it had taken her a while to get accustomed to not only how often Grayson rains sweet praises like that down on her, but how sincerely he means them, too.

She hums into his mouth right before he pulls away. “I left your shorts there, baby,” she says, gesturing behind her with her head. Gray thanks her and she starts to dig through the cooler as he tugs his swimsuit down his inked legs, following them back up with the clean shorts.

They eat dinner with the back doors wide open, a perfect view of the sun setting below the ocean’s horizon right in front of them. A pleasant breeze floats around them in the van, cool and refreshing from being picked up right off the water. MJ nuzzles her cheek on Grayson’s bare shoulder, and he presses a kiss to the top of her head as she chews her last bite of tofu.

“Thank you for such a perfect day,” MJ says a minute later, gazing up at him while he takes a sip of La Croix. “Seriously, I can’t remember the last time I felt so…carefree. Loved. In love. Not that you don’t make me feel those things every day, but… y’know. Today was just great.”

Her hand reaches to caress his stubbly cheek, a soft smile at the corner of her full lips. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Gray.”

Grayson looks down at her silently, but his eyes say everything his lips don’t. He tucks his can and their empty tupperware back into the cooler, tossing the bag into one of the back seats behind them so it’s out of the way.

He cups her cheeks in both hands, wasting no more time in bringing their mouths together. MJ sighs and shifts so she’s that much closer to him, just as his tongue prods gently at her pliant lips to coax them open.

They make out like that, slow and deep, with the soundtrack of crashing waves wafting through the open doors. Gray lies her down and supports the back of her head with his forearm, his free hand swooping up and down her side before settling in the dramatic dip of her waist as he pulls away just barely.

Eyes closed, their breaths come heavy and mingle sweetly in the minute space between them. Grayson suddenly lets out a little incredulous huff, shaking his head and diving back in blindly to suck softly on her bottom lip. MJ lets out a little moan and digs her nails gently down his bare back, her eyes fluttering open.

“What?” she asks with a little smile of her own, nuzzling her nose against his in an Eskimo kiss.

Grayson’s hazel orbs meet her green ones, and the hand resting on her waist comes to cup her face once again so he can stroke the new freckles that litter her high cheekbone.

“I’m gonna marry you,” he answers, chuckling at her shocked little gasp. He hurries to clarify himself. “One day, when we’re ready. You’re my world, MJ. Maybe it’s selfish, or self aggrandizing, but hearing you say that makes it so obvious to me that you’re the only person I’d ever want to spend the rest of my life with. Because I feel the same about you. I only ever want to make you feel that way; nothing makes me happier.”

MJ is stunned into silence. Grayson isn’t exactly the most eloquent person, so somehow she reasons that his perfect delivery of such meaningful words means they’re truly heartfelt. Not that she would have doubted him either way, but their relationship has suddenly shifted even deeper in the matter of one day. One simple, amazing day.

She feels the prickle of tears behind her eyes, and bites her lip through a watery smile as she raises her hand to run her fingers through the back of his hair. No matter how happy she is, her instinct for dealing with any emotions is to deflect with humor. “Can’t wait ’til I pop out a few of your babies. From the sounds of it, you’ll be worshipping the ground I walk on.”

That hits him right in the baby fever, his dick hardening even more behind his shorts at the thought of her belly swollen with his child. Joking or not, she’s absolutely right.

“Fuck,” he whispers, grinning as he ducks his head to nibble her favorite spot just behind her jaw and right under her ear. “How many of my babies? Hm?”

“Mmm,” she sighs, scratching lightly at his scalp, considering the question seriously. “Four little Dolan babies, I think. Three boys and a little girl.”

“Yeah,” Grayson agrees easily, making his way across her jaw with soft little suckles. “But make that three girls and a little boy, and you've got a deal.”

MJ giggles and grabs his face so they’re staring each other in the eye again. “No actual baby-making until there’s a ring on this finger.” She wiggles the digits of her left hand, which Grayson grabs and kisses the back of with a smirk. If only she knew just how close that moment might be. “But we can always practice in the meantime.”

Grayson nods and hitches her leg up his hip as he ducks down for a surprisingly chaste kiss considering her invitation a second before. As much as he wants her, he has a need deep in his chest just to be close to her for the moment. To feel her hold him and nuzzle into the warm crook of his neck, sucking gently on that freckle there to make his head swim like after a nice glass of wine.

MJ is just as happy with that arrangement, and she lets her body be still and her breaths tickle the sensitive skin at his collarbone. The ocean breeze billowing through the open doors of the van is cool and salty and comforting.

“It’s crazy,” Grayson whispers after a few peaceful minutes, his fingers starting to trail up and down her covered back slowly. MJ pulls back a little so she can see his face. He isn't looking at her, but rather out the open van doors at the last moments of the sun setting behind the water. “I remember feeling exactly this way the first day we met, only now it’s…more. You felt right then, so right it was scary. And here we are. How did I know that you were my person as soon as you let me walk you back to that tent?”

MJ smiles and her belly swoops. She thinks back to that night, how scared she had been and how instantly — well, as he said — right Grayson had felt the minute they crossed paths.

“I did kind of seduce you,” she chuckles, lifting her head to nibble at the underside of his chin and reveling in the sensation of his deep chuckle vibrating against her lips. “Maybe you’re just under my Black Widow spell. Have I never let it slip I’m only after your money?”

Grayson laughs louder, squeezing her to his body tighter. “Nope. But that’s the MJ I remember falling head over heels for in a matter of hours. Smart and witty and sweet and so fucking pretty with her green eyes and bright smile.”

MJ stares up at him with stars in those emerald eyes he adores so much. He is unreal to both see and hear; his skin has turned olive and his hair has the crisp of the ocean still in it, and the fact that he can still pinpoint the little things he liked about her from so long ago…

“Do you love me?” she asks quietly. It’s so ridiculously unnecessary to ask, he tells her multiple times a day, every day.

“So much, Peach,” he murmurs back predictably, finally swooping down to capture her lips like she wanted earlier, tongues meshing instantly.

He tastes so familiar and sweet. She wants to devour him slowly, intimately, like she has a thousand times before.

“Close the doors?” MJ gasps after the simple swipe of his thumb over her nipple through her sweatshirt makes her thighs tremble and her hips grind onto his half-hard erection. Something about the heartwarming intimacy of the day has translated to her body being physically sensitive beyond belief.

Grayson nods and sits up, reaching for the switch of the fairy lights MJ had hung up a few weeks ago before slamming the doors shut on the nighttime scenery.

While he does as she asked, she scoots up to rest her head on a pillow and watches his bare, chiseled torso glow in the dim, sensual lights. Right as he turns around he catches her struggling to free herself from her hoodie.

“Let me do it, Peach. I wanna do it,” he breathes, dipping down to kiss her soundly before tugging upward on the hem of the soft fabric. MJ drops her head to the pillow to break the seal of their lips, lifting her arms up so he can pull the garment over her head.

Grayson flings it to the front of the van and brings their mouths together so quickly, like he simply can’t be away from her lips for longer than a second. His hands reach up and cup the pliable mounds of her breasts, which are several shades lighter than the rest of her chest. Clearly, he could care less, and MJ sighs softly as he massages them firmly, his calloused palms creating delicious friction on her hypersensitive nipples.

“Still the prettiest tits I’ve ever seen, too,” he smirks, making his way across her jaw. MJ smiles too, eyes closed in bliss as he kisses the familiar trail down her sternum. Predictably, his warm lips suction around the bud of her left breast, and she lets her mind wander through the pleasure to flash back on the first time he did this.

“We’re still kind of in a tent, too, y’know,” she gasps as he switches sides, letting out her first moan of the night when he scrapes his teeth against her. “Just…more bougie.”

Grayson hums, quickly getting lost in the feel of how soft her tits are and how much he loves the sensation of her hard nipples under his tongue. He drops his hips down so he can grind his full erection against her hot center, eliciting wanton gasps from both of them.

MJ groans again, the feminine sound literal music to his ears and the perfect reinforcement to keep going. She hooks her legs around his waist to hold his hips against her, thrusting up against him as he continues to bite and lick and suckle her breasts.

“Holy shit, Gray, right there… I’m gonna cum,” she whimpers, grasping at his hair to hold him down where he was sucking perfectly on her breast, and continues to grind roughly on his dick. Sure enough, a few seconds later she’s shuddering with the most intense orgasm she’s ever had without manual stimulation. Even from Grayson.

Grayson himself can hardly believe it; they have a great sex life, but he can’t remember the last time he had gotten her off just through some intense dry humping.

He isn’t going to question it, though, because it only means one thing: she’s as voracious for him tonight as he is for her. He growls when she starts to come down and surprises her with his mouth planting roughly back on hers. MJ kisses him back lazily as her mind clears some, smiling and fluttering her eyes open to meet his dark gaze when she feels his middle finger replace his tongue in her mouth. She closes her swollen, pouty lips around the digit and sucks, holding onto his hand and maintaining complete eye contact with him when he moans softly. She pulls his hand out of her mouth and pushes it into her shorts.

“Fuck,” he rasps, collecting her slippery cum against his finger, swirling it against his thumb before trailing his middle finger up to her clit. He soaks in her expression as her eyes roll back at the first contact, his favorite reaction she has to his touch. “Fuck, MJ. So fucking wet for me.”

MJ nods quickly, opening her eyes again to watch him watch her. “Lemme taste,” she whimpers.

She pulls his hand back up and doesn’t wait for permission or leave him time to process her demand as she sucks the slick moisture straight off his finger, the taste of herself gracing her tongue causing her pussy to gush even more. When his brain finally catches up, he’s immediately ripping his hand away from her with a harsh groan and hooking it around the back of her neck to kiss her deeply. His tongue plunders her mouth as he searches for traces of that sweet, earthy tang he knows oh-so well. MJ’s hands distractedly push at the waistband of his shorts, desperate for the feel of his dick in her hands.

“Please, baby,” she whines against his lips when they break for air, using the moment of clarity to tug more determinedly at his shorts. “Need you.”

“Need me where?” he teases, backing up so she can’t reach him as he pulls her own shorts down her long, newly tanned legs. Once he flings the scrap of fabric to join her sweater, he ducks down and swipes his tongue quickly over each of her nipples. “Here?”

MJ groans and shakes her head, her brain not operating at enough capacity to tease back, it’s so clouded with desire for him. “Gray…”

Grayson smirks and grabs one of her hands that are coasting down his back and attempting to pull him down against her. He cups her petite palm against his pulsing erection, sighing a little when her fingers wrap around him through his shorts instinctively. He drops his hand and brings it to her pussy, his fingertips dancing delicately against her swollen lower lips. His head swims at how wet she is and how the solid feel of him seems to have brought her mind back to earth, because as soon as he lets go of her hand she delves past his waistband to grip him directly.

“My dick, baby, you need my dick?” he asks softly, his voice a little high and his breath pitchy as she strokes him steadily now.

MJ moans and her pussy throbs simply at his words. She nods hastily. “Need it in me,” she manages, meeting his heated gaze as she gives him a firm squeeze. “Love your dick.”

“Yeah,” he sighs, his touch leaving her as he helps her in getting him completely naked, kicking his shorts off when they reach his ankles.

He takes a moment to gather himself and to slow down, trying to get himself back in that intimate headspace they were so deep in earlier, so that this doesn’t turn into just a hot, hard fuck. They love that, and it’s kind of their bread and butter in the bedroom. But he wants to hold her close and savor her body, to pass that loving energy between them in the most special, physical way.

MJ’s chest heaves as she watches Grayson hover above her, staring at her, and she parts her legs to welcome him back into her space. He looks like a fucking Greek god in the low light, his hair curly from the saltwater and sweat, his skin golden and his muscles bulging. She can’t possibly want him any more than in that moment.

“C’mere,” she whispers, reaching her arms out and making grabby hands at him. She can’t allow another second to go by without the sensation of his smooth skin against hers.

Grayson smiles sweetly at her, eyes sultry as he lowers himself at her request and presses their bodies together from chests to centers. She cups his cheeks and scratches her fingers against his scruff as they kiss slowly, deeply, desire building intensely once again as they grind together at the middle.

“Please, Grayson,” she finally says again.

All thoughts of any more teasing are out the door as Grayson obliges her. He dips his fingers in her pussy, testing her readiness and using her sweet juices to coat his dick.

MJ spreads her legs up and out, bent at the knees, and she throws her head back with a gasp as he enters her in a short thrust; a little more on the second, until he bottoms out with the third.

“Fuck me,” she whimpers, her hands pushing on the firm globes of his ass.

Grayson obeys with a groan, drawing his hips in and out steadily. “Wanna fuck you slow,” he says in her ear, thrusting all the way in and all the way out. The warm clutch of her perfect pussy is so intense at that tempo that he shudders and his eyes roll back. “Slow and deep, Peach.”

“Yes,” MJ agrees, her breaths coming in fast despite the maintained speed of his dick. He’s working her up so good, and she leans forward to bite into the junction of his neck and shoulder out of habit to keep her sounds muffled.

“Yes, baby,” she squeals quietly when her minute adjustment shifts the angle just right for him to hit her spot over and over. Her nails claw at his back, scraping over the work of art that is both his rippling muscles and the picture of the lions inked into them. “Oh my God, keep fucking me like that.. like that…”

The air confined in the van is warm and thick. Sweat drips from the ends of his hair, his hot breaths fan over her forehead, and his chain dangles enticingly across her face as he stares down at her all blissed out beneath him. Nothing turns him on more than her words of encouragement, which are usually muted due to the fact that his omnipresent twin brother lives across the hall. But now that they’re alone, in nature — just like the night they met — all filters are off. It makes him even more determined to get her to cum so hard she forgets any of those sweet praises she’s mumbling other than his name.

It’s already so, so good, but as soon as he gets on his knees just enough to gain more leverage to thrust even harder into her, that knot in MJ’s stomach starts growing in a fantastically unfamiliar way. Her eyes roll back and Grayson reaches a huge hand up to support her head against his shoulder, sensing how perfect the angle is for her and wanting to help her maintain it. She’s getting tighter and wetter around him, so much so that he has to grit his teeth and hiss to avoid having to pull out and stop.

“MJ,” he moans into her ear, tugging on her lobe with his teeth, an unspoken warning that he’s close. He’ll hold on as long as he can, but he absolutely needs to get her there first.

In the back of her mind, she comprehends his cue. But she’s so focused on reaching the bursting point of that expanding ball behind her belly, she can’t help but selfishly draw every ounce of pleasure she can from him. She thinks she knows what’s going to happen, and it will be a first-time experience for both of them.

It’s only going to take a few more deep, hard thrusts, and she’ll be there. Almost there…

“Gray!” she squeaks, squeezing a hand between their bodies to push against his abs, just in time for him to pull out and her to gush all over him and the blankets serving as makeshift sheets beneath them. It’s an indescribable release that washes over her, her own loud, shaky squeals of pleasure distant noises in the back of her head. She can only see colors behind her closed eyelids, greens and blues and lavenders sparkling in her mind’s eye like a mystical fog.

Grayson can’t believe what he’s seeing. His shocked and aroused groan sounds obnoxiously loud and foreign in his own ears; the fact that he doesn’t bust his nut right there on the blanket next to hers is a miracle. Instinctively, he reaches his fingers down to help her through it by rubbing her clit, huffing out an incredulous laugh when her thighs clamp instantly around his hand and a little more of her juices come out, soaking his hand. His name tumbles repeatedly out of her lips, just like he was aiming for and unwittingly exceeding his own expectations.

He’s painfully hard as he leans over her again, kissing her through her mindless whimpers as she starts to slowly come-to, her damp thighs opening once again and allowing him to slip between them. Right where he belongs.

“MJ?” he whispers, stroking her brow softly and watching her face intently. “You okay?”

Eyes still closed and breasts heaving, MJ takes a second to respond, but she moans quietly and nods, puckering her lips in invitation for him to meet with his. He obliges, indulging her for a moment until he can’t wait anymore. “Where do you want me to cum?”

“Inside,” she breathes at once, reaching down to grasp him and bring him to her dripping pussy. Grayson flinches at her sudden grip on him and the overwhelming wetness against the sensitive head of his dick. “Come on, Bear. Want you to cum hard inside me.”

With a groan, he slides back inside her, and a few hard, sloppy thrusts later, he’s shooting deep in her pussy. He’s never cum so hard in his life, and he whines into her mouth with the timing of his spurts. She hums contentedly, obsessed with that feeling of warmth that comes with, well, his cum.

“So good,” he murmurs when he’s finally done, pulling out of her slowly. He grabs a spare towel and cleans up the liquid white that follows him dripping from her center. “That was incredible, MJ. You’re incredible.”

MJ shakes her head in agreement, clapping a hand to her forehead and giggling softly, her knees bent and swaying side to side. “I thought we had done everything to try to get that to happen. Turns out we just had to go back to the beginning.”

Grayson lies down next to her, turning her head with a gentle hand on her cheek so he can press their lips together. “I love you,” he says simply. “My pretty Peach.”

MJ grabs a blanket and tosses it over the both of them, brushing her nose against his once they’re cuddled together. “And I love my Gray Bear. Mine.”

“Yours,” he whispers in affirmation, tucking her head into the crook of his neck until they’re both lulled to sleep in their cozy little bougie tent.

[jenniferxprentiss]

I Knew You’d Linger Like A Tattoo Kiss -> 3/6

you’re my golden hour (the color of my sky)

read it as a stand-alone oneshot here

The third time JJ kisses Alex in front of the team, they’re enjoying a rare day off at the carnival. JJ can’t keep her eyes off of Alex all day, and as the sun begins to set behind the clouds, casting them in a pink glow, JJ can’t resist insisting they go on the Ferris wheel just once. They’re quiet as they ride, JJ’s head leaned on Alex’s shoulder until they reach the top of the ride, both looking at the flashing lights below them as the sun disappears, giving way to a vibrant pink. In that moment, regardless of who was watching, JJ couldn’t help herself, leaned up and pressed her lips against Alex’s as the ride began to slowly descend.

or the alternative summary.....

Emily was arguing with Reid and Garcia about who got to go on first, Alex and JJ both laughing out loud at the way she was waving her arms around and trying to prove her point. In her defense, she had been dead and exiled to Paris after the trauma of Doyle — and in Spencer’s, she had left him behind and didn’t even say goodbye. “Hey, I thought we agreed to not bring that up again.” JJ’s tone was firm, eyes narrowing at Emily in particular who mumbled out an embarrassed apology. “How about you rock paper scissors for it?” “I like the way you think.” JJ stretched up on her toes, placed a soft kiss to Alex’s cheek before turning her attention back to Spencer and Emily, who were engaged in another bickering war.

hi hello lovelies!

the decision to post this as both a standalone AND the next chap of the 5+1 was a little tough, so I’m hoping you aren’t TOO mad at me for it! i just thought that 1) it would get more exposure tagged as hotchniss, light implied morcied and 2) this is entirely too long (3.2k words!) to be JUST a chapter. and it’s also lightly focused on the rest of the BAU too!! if u don’t like Alex x JJ, I don’t suggest u read, though! but whatever floats ur boat. love u!!

tag list xo lemme know if u want a future tag! @babyblockcolorcat @whiskey-fluent @anepiphany @criminalmindsgonewrong @ellegreenawy @alex-blakes @j3mily @jjsgirlfriend @blakes-dictionxry

——————

It was rare that the team was allowed any time off aside from weekends when they were in town, let alone a weekday to do something as simple as going to a carnival. Strauss had pulled some strings for Emily’s return to the BAU, classified it as team bonding when she informed them of their time off and told them not to stay up too late, they had work to do the next day.

They hadn’t considered a carnival until Emily and Alex had admitted to the team that they had never been to one — sitting around the conference table with the rest of the team staring at them in various states of confusion because really, who had never been to a carnival? Garcia immediately decided that there would be no other acceptable team bonding activity, and luckily for them they were right on time for the last day of the carnival.

JJ had always loved fall carnivals, loved the way the crisp autumn air blew the fallen orange leaves around her feet as she walked, the way it felt and sounded like magic as every footfall brought the crunching of leaves underfoot. She felt a goofy grin pull at the corners of her lips, her hand firmly in Alex’s as they walked leisurely along the pavement, watching Henry as he walked ahead of them.

There was a giddy happiness that coursed through her at getting to take Alex to her first carnival, JJ still smiling at the memory of watching her eyes light up as they drove into the parking lot. They were older, with children and previous marriages — a slow-moving divorce, in Alex’s case — and they didn’t have much room for firsts, and JJ knew this would be a memory they both held dear to them for years to come.

“He looks like he’s having fun.”

JJ could hear the subtle smile in Alex’s voice, breaking her from her thoughts. She squeezed her hand before looking up and watching Henry race Emily off to a ring toss game. He had missed his Aunt Em so much, the sight of him running off with her to go play brought the familiar lump of tears to the back of her throat.

“I knew he would. He missed her so much… I’m glad he can have today before we go back to normal life.” She laughed when Emily ruffled Jack and Henry’s hair, looked over at Alex pointedly. “And you? Are you having fun?”

“As long as I’m with you.”

Her answer was sincere, her tone even and measured but she knew that JJ would understand the true vulnerability behind it. She so rarely let her guard down around other people, especially after her separation from James, but somehow JJ was always able to pull her from the hidden recesses of her mind and get her laughing.

They continued walking in silence, JJ motioning to Hotch that she was veering off towards a stand, nodding when he signaled that he had eyes on Henry. She tugged Alex towards the cotton candy stand, felt her heart flutter when she noticed the soft grin on her girlfriend’s face out of the corner of her eye.

“I’m gonna go grab a bench for us.” Alex’s voice was soft, chilled fingertips grazing the palm of JJ’s hand. “Make sure you get the pink.”

Their relationship had never been built on grand gestures, rather small acts of kindness and words of affirmation uttered behind closed doors — the gentle whisper of words uttered against lips, the way Alex glanced at JJ in front of the team with eyes so full of love that they held a message. She didn’t need Alex to say anything at all — knew her better than the back of her own hand.

She shuffled up in line, eyes still trained on Alex as she sat on a bench, one leg folded over the other and hands in her lap. The sight melted JJ’s heart, the way Alex’s cream colored sweater contrasted her dark hair that hung over her shoulder in a loose ponytail, tied with a ribbon. She was so preoccupied watching Alex that she didn’t notice the man behind the counter clear his throat, calling her up to the stall.

“Oh, I’m sorry… let me get two of the pink and blue over there.”

He grunted, took her money before disappearing for a moment, rummaging in a corner JJ couldn’t quite see. She blew a kiss in Alex’s direction, felt her stomach flip with giddy butterflies when Alex mimed catching it, a goofy grin on her face. She turned back at just the right moment, the man thrusting her change and bags of cotton candy into her hand before mumbling a gruff thanks, already yelling for the next customer to come forward.

JJ remembered that Alex told her she loved cotton candy as a child, the way it melted on the tip of her tongue, felt her lips twitching up into a smile at the thought. She remembered the night they stayed up together long before their relationship had shifted to one laced with romantic intonation, both of them curled under a stiff hotel blanket and whispering silly secrets into the dark — both unable to sleep after they found yet another victim, this one hitting a little too close to home. She drank in every little detail of Alex in those nights, the soft side of her she never let show until the lights were turned out.

“What’s up?” Alex’s voice was soft, fingers grazing her forearm gently in a way that broke JJ from her thoughts.

“Nothing… just thinking.”

“Oh, that’s dangerous.” There was a playful lilt to Alex’s voice, lips curling up into a small smile as JJ sat beside her on the bench.

They were content to sit away from the action for a moment, just to watch the people go by. JJ watched Emily and Hotch, smiled to herself when she saw just how happy they were chasing after Jack and Henry. Emily was laughing — unrestrained, the kind of booming laughter JJ missed so much while she had been gone — her head tilted back and eyes sparkling as she reached for Hotch’s hand. He took it, pulled Emily into him and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead before they pulled apart to help the boys with the water gun game they were playing, Emily’s hands on Henry’s smaller ones as she guided him.

With a soft smile on her lips, JJ brought a bite of cotton candy up to Alex’s mouth. Her lips wrapped around JJ’s fingers, corners of her lips twitching up into a smile as her tongue darted out to lave across the skin, collecting any small bits of sugar that were left. They soaked up the bit of silence amidst the chaos, before the kids or the team would come running and pull them away to another ride.

“Tastes good.”

“Yeah? I know how much you like pink.”

She couldn’t help but gaze into Alex’s eyes, the way they crinkled up in the corners as a wide smile spread across her face. Her eyes flicked up to meet JJ’s, sparkling with a hint of bashfulness behind her doe eyed gaze.

“Not just the candy.”

“Hm?”

“You.”

JJ felt her heart speed up at the tone of Alex’s voice, the way it was subtly playful — fingers catching her wrist gently and guiding JJ’s hand to bring another bite of cotton candy to her mouth. It was in these rare moments of calm with her — just sitting with each other and watching the world move around them — that JJ saw a more permanent future with Alex by her side.

In that moment, JJ saw lazy Sunday mornings around the breakfast table with Henry as a teenager, stuffing food into his mouth before running out the door to catch up with whatever friend he was going to hang out with for the day. She could see movie nights curled up on the couch as an older Henry rolled his eyes at the way his mother was laid across Alex’s lap. There were visions of Christmases spent together — building gingerbread houses with Alex, a dollop of dried icing on her cheek as they sang along to Christmas carols — and long walks down the street admiring the autumn leaves.

The sun had begun to disappear behind the clouds, setting rapidly into a pinkish orange glow and giving way to a chilled breeze. She turned, eyes catching Alex’s face in just the right light and felt her heart clench for just a second. She looked at peace — face relaxed and free of the worry lines that were almost permanently etched into her face — eyes trained on JJ’s side profile with a small hint of a smile playing on her lips.

“Hey.” They both startled when Emily approached, her voice soft and eyes kind. “Henry and Jack fell asleep, Rossi has them. A bunch of us were going to hop on the ferris wheel to watch the sunset… you in?”

“Sorry, I was just thinking.” JJ looked over at Alex, the way her eyes twinkled a little extra when Emily mentioned watching the sun set on the ferris wheel. “Yeah, we’ll be right there.”

“Hotch is saving us a place in line. Let’s ditch this shit with Rossi before they’re too far up in line.”

They half jogged over to the ferris wheel, Alex’s hand firmly in JJ’s, delightfully short of breath as a giddy wave of butterflies settled their way into her stomach. She had never been with someone who made her so lovestruck, made her feel like the little emoticon with heart eyes that JJ used so often — she wanted to drink in every second of the feeling, to never forget the fluttery happiness she felt in that moment.

“Nervous?”

“Sort of. I’ve never been on one before.”

“I’ll hold your hand the entire time.”

Alex smiled, a genuine grin directed at JJ, before turning back to look at the ferris wheel again, taller than she imagined one would be in person. The lights were on now, flashing and changing so rapidly that it made her eyes burn but she couldn’t look away. It was intoxicating — not just the wheel and lights, but the carnival itself. The ambient chatter in the background, hundreds of hushed conversations mingling with music and announcers yelling over the crowds brought a soft smile to her face, head quirking to the side as she tried to pick out any definitive sounds in the crowd.

She was pulled forward by JJ, the line moving again as another couple stepped into their seats and the worker started the ride up again. In front of them, Emily was arguing with Reid and Garcia about who got to go on first, Alex and JJ both laughing out loud at the way she was waving her arms around and trying to prove her point. In her defense, she had been dead and exiled to Paris after the trauma of Doyle — and in Spencer’s, she had left him behind and didn’t even say goodbye.

“Hey, I thought we agreed to not bring that up again.” JJ’s tone was firm, eyes narrowing at Emily in particular who mumbled out an embarrassed apology.

“How about you rock paper scissors for it?”

“I like the way you think.”

JJ stretched up on her toes, placed a soft kiss to Alex’s cheek before turning her attention back to Spencer and Emily, who were engaged in another bickering war. She shook her head, squeezing Alex’s hand gently in a sign of love — something they had adopted when they were still trying to keep their relationship a secret in front of the team, a simple gesture to say they loved each other.

By the time the ride operator opened the gate, Emily had declared herself the winner, but stepped aside and ushered Spencer forward with a sheepish smile on her face. The sight made JJ laugh, the way she walked back over to Hotch and let him wrap his arms around her from behind — having had no intention of actually making Spencer wait to get on the ride, not after she watched him buzz with excitement the entire time they had been in line.

He pulled Derek and Penelope through the gate with him, an uncharacteristically giddy smile tugging his lips upward and making the corners of his eyes crease with the sheer force of his unrestrained joy. JJ felt her lips quirk up into a smile of her own at the way both Derek and Penelope protested riding all together, but eventually let Spencer drag them onto the bench, all squeezing together as the ride operator clicked the bar down and started the ride again.

“He really has them wrapped around his finger, doesn’t he?”

JJ let out a small chuckle at Alex’s words, nodded as she watched the trio move up on the ride, all of them laughing and joking together.

“You say that like you wouldn’t move heaven and earth for that man.”

“He reminds me of my son… almost as much as Henry does.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. He had nine good years… and what is it they say about found family?”

They were interrupted once again by the metallic clang of the gate opening, Hotch and Emily sauntering hand in hand over to the ride car. They sat, Hotch’s arm around Emily’s shoulder and her head tucked into the crook of his neck as the ride started up again, and JJ felt herself swell with happiness at the way Hotch’s coat was around Emily, essentially dwarfing her in the material.

“They make a good couple.”

“Oh, yeah. I knew it would happen… especially once she went to Paris and there were no technicalities of the job keeping them from their feelings. He thinks I don’t know he was flying out to see her once a month.”

“He didn’t think Emily would tell you?”

“I think he was too in love with her to care what I thought.”

Alex made a soft sound of understanding, knowing the feeling all too well. When they had gotten together, in the early days of their relationship outside of falling into bed together for ‘stress relief’ on hard cases, she didn’t care if she lost her job — if she had to quit to just be with JJ on the off chance that it would work out — she felt such a strong pull to the other woman. Thankfully, the HR department was more than okay with their relationship — especially so after Emily came back engaged to Hotch — but it had always stuck at the back of her mind, exactly how much JJ meant to her.

“I love you too much to care.”

The words were laced with an intonation that made JJ’s head quirk to the side in question, wondered exactly what Alex meant and knew it wasn’t the place to ask — not with the way her voice was so soft, eyes soft and filled with such a fierce love that it made her head spin. To be loved so much was almost intoxicating, and she gave Alex’s hand another squeeze as the gate opened for them.

They sat perched on the edge of the bench seat, JJ’s head resting comfortably on Alex’s chest as the ride began to move, cranking them up into the night sky. The sky was a brilliant pink now, both of them transfixed by the sight, still entwined in more than a simple clasp of hands, but fingers laced together in a sign of love.

She loves me. She completely, wholly loves me.

JJ caught herself looking upwards for a second, a warm happiness filling her chest as she watched Emily lean into Hotch’s kiss, her hand on his stubbly cheek. It felt like she was watching a private moment, the way she leaned into him with so much love and adoration that it was almost too much to handle.

“Alex?”

“Hm?”

“I love you completely, wholly.”

“And I, you, my darling.” She paused for a moment, looked out at the carnival below them and back to JJ, a twinkle in her eyes. “Thank you… for bringing me here.”

They were paused at the top of the ride now, passengers disembarking their ride car below and giving them just enough time to look out at the view — the pink sky that cast them in the perfect glow, and accompanied with the lights and sounds of the carnival, it almost felt like they were in a movie.

“I’m honored.”

There was a gravely sincerity to JJ’s voice, and Alex knew she didn’t just mean it in regards to the carnival. It was an honor to love her — to share her dinner table with her, to share a bed with her while away on cases or the rare night that they could stay over at the other’s home.

“Jennifer…”

Their breath hitched, JJ leaning forward and letting her free hand cup the back of Alex’s neck, pulling them together and pressing their lips against each other. It was as though time was standing still for them, the shrill laughter of children and the music from the carnival below them fading into nothing but background noise — nothing mattered but the press of their lips, the way one simple action held so much love and tenderness.

When they finally broke apart, both gasping for air, the ride jolted to a start again, their car descending. They could hear the shrill laughter of Spencer and Penelope, no doubt at something Morgan had told them — looked down and noticed Emily and Hotch cuddled against each other, her shoulders shaking in a silent cry as he held her, rubbed his hand in circles on her upper back.

“I wish we could stay here forever.”

“Hm?” JJ looked up again, felt herself melt when she gazed into Alex’s eyes. “Oh, me too. Aside from the chill… I’m starting to regret my wardrobe choice.”

With a soft laugh, one lacking the ‘I told you so’ she so desperately wanted to say, Alex wrapped her arm around JJ’s back, pulling her girlfriend into her and pressing a soft kiss to her hair. She let herself simply be in the moment, let herself be aware of every point of contact between her and JJ — from the way her hand connected with her shoulder right down to their knees bumping against each other — as she watched the carnival lights come closer and closer as they descended, knew that when they stepped off the ride they would be back to the chaos they both secretly loved so much.

“Jayje?”

“Mhmm?”

“I think I’m ready to ask him for a divorce.”

It was a ghost of a whisper uttered into the chilled evening air as their car came to a stop at the loading station — a statement so full of hope and love that it made JJ’s stomach flip. She didn’t dare mention it in front of the rest of the team who was already waiting for them at the exit gate — simply turned to Alex and pressed her lips against hers once more before exiting through the gate and joining the team again, a soft, proud little smile on her lips that she knew she wouldn’t be able to shake for the rest of the night.

[twokinkybeans]

Kinktober Prompt Fill #10: Pinwheel

Find our full Kinktober post right here!

Summary: Ranch!AU - Peter seduces Tony into fucking him in the hay attic. Warnings: Seducing, Pinwheel, Mention of a Riding Crop, Half-Dressed Fuck, Dirty Talk, ‘Merican Accents

Read on AO3

Peter has a good ass. Full stop. That’s all the information anybody needs. It’s irrefutable. No one would deny it. Could deny it. Obviously, Tony feels disgusting for thinking it, but the way Peter arches his back- the way he sticks his butt out when he puts his foot in the stirrup as he climbs onto Bolt, his trusted mare, is near-damn obscene. Tony knows the boy is doing it for him, that he is trying to get into his pants. He’s been quite vocal about it too- well, not really to Tony himself, but the other stable hand, Michelle, has gotten quite an earful about what Peter thinks of the ranch owner. What he wants Tony to do to him. And shit, does he want to do it to Peter as well. Little did Peter and Michelle know that he could hear them. Often. And it had him rock hard every time. Tony doesn’t even hide his erection in his tight denim pants, sauntering through the exterior arena in his cowboy boots as Peter and Bolt circle him. Peter is obviously over-bucking his hips in the saddle with every step Bolt takes, grinding down into his seat. He rides his horse with an infuriatingly sensual grace. When Bolt has warmed up enough, Peter innocently turns his head to look at Tony and cocks his head. “Faster?” Tony swears inwardly as he nods, clearing his throat before speaking. “Speed up to a trot.” ... When Tony and Peter walk down the stables, it’s already late. Tony’s cowboy heels click with every step, the pinwheels at the ends clanking softly. Everyone has gone home and the horses curiously stick their heads out to watch the two men strolling the building. Peter stuck around, as he always does. Right when Tony turns to walk out and lock the barn door, he spots an empty trough. “Eric forgot to give Seven hay today.” He pauses, annoyed. “Again.” Tony straightens his back and takes a glance at Peter. “Mind helpin’ me fetch some for her?” “Of course, Mister Stark.” The mischievous gleam in his eye says enough. Peter planned this. It’s not long before they reach the attic where they store all the hay. Peter insists on going up the ladder first. For obvious reasons. Tony climbs after him, eyes locked on the round cheeks straight ahead. Peter sways his hips seductively, so it’s no surprise that the second they reach the top, he grabs Peter by the belt and tosses him against the hay stack, kissing him feverishly while cupping Peter’s pert butt. Peter doesn’t even act surprised. Instead, he grins, knowing he won the game. “About time, Sir,” he quips with a smirk, mingling their hot breaths with a chuckle. Tony just growls, shrugging his casually unbuttoned red and faded yellow gingham shirt off his shoulders. Peter rushes to rip Tony’s tank top off his chest. When Tony reaches for his belt, Peter stops him. “Me first?” He bats his eyelashes innocently, making Tony scoff darkly. “Needy, needy,” he tuts, caressing Peter’s jaw before undressing him, peppering his nose and lips with soft kisses. Peter’s blush goes all the way down his chest, cock standing tall and proud. He whines when Tony pulls back, loosening his own belt and unzipping his fly to take out his dick. He casually leans back until he sits down on the stack and he pats his denim jeans invitingly. He sinks into the hay slightly, leaning back until he’s comfortable enough. The straw tickles and scratches his back, but with the sight that’s in front of him, the things that are about to happen, he couldn’t care less. “Come here, baby.” Tony’s voice is coated with honey, dripping with lust. “It’s time you rode a steed.” Peter’s cock jumps at Tony’s words and he whimpers softly, nodding. His sassiness is crumbling with every passing second and Tony sure loves watching Peter fall apart. Peter lines himself up, but Tony shakes his head. “Tsk, you’ve been teasing me with that ass for weeks, boy.” He rolls his shoulders and cocks an eyebrow. “Turn around.” Peter complies and not much later his obscene moans echo through the barn as he stretches himself on Tony’s shaft. “That’s it, boy, roll those hips, arch your back, show off your pretty cheeks.” Tony doesn’t care to move as Peter starts squeezing and grinding. It feels delicious and if Tony didn’t have any self-control he could come just looking at the mesmerizing image of Peter’s round butt jiggling slightly with every movement. He watches the boy clench and unclench, muscles tightening with every push down into Tony’s groin. “S-so good, fuck-“ Peter yelps softly when a sudden smack hits his ass cheek. If only Tony had a riding crop right now. “Speed up to a trot,” Tony says with a grin. Peter lets out a high pitched chuckle, but speeds up anyways, barely able to keep himself upright. His hands move to find balance on Tony’s legs, but they stop when they graze past the leather cowboy boots. There’s a slight pause in his movement, and it doesn’t go unnoticed. Another smack lands on his ass. Tony wiggles his feet, creating noise with the metal at his heels. “Didn’t tell you to slow down, wouldn’t want me to use my pinwheels on ya… Would ya?” Tony can’t stop smirking, relishing in Peter’s moans. Alright then… Tony sniffs once, allowing Peter to pick up the pace again. “Take ‘em off,” he orders. Peter doesn’t immediately reply, unsure of what Tony means with it. So, Tony moves his feet again. “Take. ‘Em. Off.” “Yes, Sir.” This time, Peter doesn’t halt his ass grinding against Tony’s groin. Tony is panting at this point, basking in the drag of Peter’s insides around him. Peter’s hands work expertly to pull the shoes off Tony’s feet. Once the second one is off, Tony suddenly sits up straight, grabbing Peter by the waist and pushing in until his mouth is right at Peter’s ear. “Oh, would ya look at that,” Tony sighs, looking down at Peter’s hard and leaking cock. He takes the second shoe out of Peter’s hand, twisting it until the pinwheel is pointing their way. At the same time, he start thrusting up into Peter, eliciting the most delicious moans from him. Peter’s head falls back against Tony’s chest, angling into the crook of his neck. “So hard. So horny.” “Been wantin’ to ride you for weeks, Sir-“ Peter pants. “Thank you, thank you-“ “Mmm, good boy,” Tony coos, sucking marks on Peter’s shoulder. “Ya gonna come for me, Petey? Are you close?” Peter nods feverishly, pushing back into Tony harder and harder. Tony smirks, looking down over Peter’s shoulder to the boy’s neglected, leaking cock. He brings the pinwheel from his boot closer and closer until it grazes past. Tony rolls the pinwheel from the base of Peter’s shaft to the tip and back. Peter wails, taking all of Tony’s thrusts and attention until his pleasure reaches its crescendo. He spills all over Tony’s boot, shuddering aggressively and the sight results in Tony only needing a few more thrusts before combusting himself.

[revisionaryhistory]

Three Days ~ 67

~*~Sebastian~*~

This little barely a conversation told me it was going to be fine. Not that I was overly worried, but still. The way Emma checked with me if I trusted her friends was good. However, I do not believe for one second that the purpose wasn't really for her to say "don't put this on the internet." I’m sure she would have diverted the conversation if she didn't already know they could be trusted. She reassured me and made it clear she trusted them while still saying the expectation out loud. No one felt like they'd been admonished and no one got offended. The way she did it was so natural.

Beautiful. Fucking beautiful.

And not just Emma. I hadn’t known exactly where she was going, but we'd talked enough and I trusted her. We worked well together. Navigating through the bullshit was going to be just fine.

Dawn, the one with all the questions, looked like she had another one. She wagged her finger between Emma and me. "This is what I want. The way you two are. You're comfortable with each other, but not in the boring take things for granted sort of way. The fun, you get each other, deep conversation, and have really good sex sort of comfortable." She made a couple of circles with her finger, "I want this. How'd you do this?"

Me being included in any sort of relationship goals is laughable. I shrugged, "An excessive amount of talking."

My girl went the other way, "We made a deal to skip all the dating shit where you don't let the other person know you like them, don't respond to texts and phone calls too fast, and only talk about things that make you look good. We opted for just getting to know each other. You both have to be willing to jump off the cliff and catch each other."

Dawn laughed, "Well, that sounds terrifying and completely impossible."

"Terrifying? Yes. Impossible? No. Payoff huge." I smiled broadly, pointed at Emma, and whispered, "I got her."

Nia headed toward the door, "I like him."

Dawn rolled her eyes and followed, "I don't know which I'm more jealous of."

Emma ignored both of them and turned to Mallory, "Do you want to switch out the desks today or later?"

I looked at the desk, "You're moving that? It's huge."

Both women shook their heads. "They won't move them. We're packing everything up."

"Same desks?" Double nods. "Why don't we just swap out the drawers?"

They looked at the desk, each other, then me. "You're brilliant."

I looked at Mallory, "No, my parents recently moved and I moved drawers that weren't in the right places."

Emma and I headed back to her room. Right outside the door, I shook out my whole body, like a wet dog.

Emma leaned away, "You alright there, babe?"

I did it again, "You've been playing in my hair." I scratched both my hands in my hair. "I think you created a new erogenous zone."

I carried the drawers back forth while they held the doors. The amount of shit in the drawers was impressive. Emma has a problem with pens. I don't think I've ever seen so many pens outside of a store. And highlighters. Berry colored pens. I know this because the bin is labeled. Anything but yellow highlighters. Back in Emma's room we labeled everything with her name on masking tape and stacked everything on one side of the room.

There were many interruptions after lunch. Most people just saying goodbye to Emma for the summer. Emma said there were a couple of people she'd barely met. "I should set up a table, give you a pad of post-its, and charged twenty bucks for an autograph."

"You're undervaluing me."

"What does thirty seconds with you cost?"

"About a hundred for an autograph. Two for a photo. Four for a package."

She pulled me to her desk, pushed me in her chair, and gave me a berry pen and post-its. "I need new carpets. Start signing." I smiled and got to work. I was writing notes to her that I would be hiding in her room, vehicle, and house. Some sweet, some sentimental, and some sexy. I had to shoo her away and hide my stack. Emma finished labeling before I was done writing, so I stole a pen and the pad.

Last task for the day was taking the shit we'd pulled off the walls to Mallory's room. While they talked, I got the chance to hide a couple of notes in her desk. Pretty sure Mallory saw, but I trusted her to keep my secret. She'd read them, but these weren't dirty.

In the car, before I could buckle my seat belt, Emma fisted the hair on the back of my head and kissed the fuck out of me. Full on, open mouthed, lots of tongue, kissed the fuck out of me. Then just sat back.

I licked the taste of her, of us, off my lips, "I liked that."

"You were supposed to."

Despite my best efforts, I smiled, "I think I might get lucky after our workout.”

"I know you will." She winked at me.

Miracle I didn't hit one of the parked cars with as hard as I was laughing.

We worked out hard. Felt great after. Now to go home for cardio.

While I toed off my shoes, I clapped my hands together, "Where is that high-end vibrator?"

Emma put a hand on her hip, "Are you tired or lazy?"

I pursed my lips and looked, "Both. Only not tired. Mostly curious. " She was walking away, so I grabbed her from behind, sliding a hand between her legs. I kissed her neck, "I want to play with toys."

Emma put a hand on my cheek, "I will let you play after I shower. I stink."

"So do I." I nuzzled her neck and rubbed between her legs.

"If we were just talking sex, no problem. But you're going to be exploring."

Yeah, she's right. I wouldn't want her going down on me right now either. I let her go and took her hand, "Ok, but no fooling around in the shower."

"No promises."

Emma was a very good girl in the shower. Until she wasn't. And even then, she was still really good. It started when we were very soapy. Suddenly (not at all suddenly) her breasts were against my chest. Slippery and all the other good stuff. Her hands were on my back and ass. I went to kiss her and she pulled her head away. "You said no fooling around in the shower."

"I've changed my mind." I didn't really mean it when I'd said it.

Emma kissed along my neck to my ear, "întoarceți-vă, Seb asti-an."

Only good things can come from the words, "Turn around, Sebastian." I'm pretty sure I'm about to be reduced to a moaning boneless shell of a man. A very happy man. Emma placed kisses from shoulder blade to shoulder blade. Her hands slid down my wet skin to my hips and her kisses headed down my back. Somewhere around the same time, her tongue was at the base of my spine she must have gone to her knees. because her hands were moving up from ankles. I fell forward, resting my head on my arm on the shower wall. "I like where this is going."

"Do you?" Her fingers went up my inner thigh, up the crack of my ass, and circled around the bottom of my butt cheek.

I shivered, "Oh fuck."

Kisses moved to my ass. Hands on my thighs. I arched my back like the complete needy bastard I was. I like a lot of things about sex. Rimming is in the top three. Her hands holding, spreading me. Kisses teasingly close and the first touch of her tongue. I growled in pleasure and relief. Emma hadn't lied the first night when she told me there was no place on my body she didn't want to kiss. And kiss she did. And lick. Little licks, long licks, circular licks. I loved them all. They all produced different sensations and combined with the soft touch of her hands.

"Em, feels so good."

My words did not affect her. She kept up with what she was doing. Turning me inside out. I moved my hand to my cock, stroking slowly. There was no rush. Something told me Emma would keep rimming me until I couldn’t take it anymore, which was quickly approaching. The sensations, the new experience for us, and the still slight taboo was a recipe for losing control. That Emma went here before I asked was a huge turn on. She wants to do this to me. There's the thought that pushed me over the edge. She wanted to do this to me. For me.

“I’m gonna come, Emma." I felt one of her hands leave my ass and wrap with my hand around my cock. Her tongue kept working me and her hand helped me. Pleasure overload. The acoustics in the bathroom made my crying out much louder than I'd meant for it to be. "Fuck. Fuck. Oh god. Fuck!" and a final guttural growl that ended with a whole-body shiver.

I let go of my cock, grabbing her hand, and lacing our fingers. Ever so slowly she kissed her way up my back. Slow was good because I didn’t see myself moving anytime soon. The hand I wasn't holding slid around to my stomach, then reached in front of me to turn off the water. That was my cue to move. I tried to push away from the wall. I wasn't successful. I did laugh, "I’m not ready to move. Still feeling way too good."

Emma made her way between me and the wall, wrapping our joined hands around her back. Her lips brushed against my chest. The side of my neck. When her mouth met mine, I realized this was exactly what I needed to move, to ground me, but not pull me out of the high. I dropped my arm from the wall to around her shoulders, holding her close. What do you say after someone’s tongue has been up your ass? Thank you. I love you. Wow, that was good, will we do it again?

I nuzzled my nose against her neck, "You are a fantastic lover."

"Thanks." She rubbed her cheek against me. "You said the sex would get better."

I remember that. As we learned what the other liked it would get better. "I did."

"I'm figuring out what you like." She opened the shower door, handing me a towel, before stepping out and grabbing her own.

I laughed, "You mean what functionally paralyzes me?"

She nodded, tucking in the corner of the towel wrapped around her. "Just imagine when you're blindfolded, tied to the bed, and I use everything I know."

Shit. My mouth dropped open as I watched her leave the bathroom. I let her get a little ahead of me before running up to her, picking her up, and climbing into the bed with her. I pressed her into the mattress with my body on hers, "I love you."

Her fingers drug through my hair, "I love you."

I kissed her softly, wanting the emotion of it more than the physicality. I backed away with a smile, "Where are my toys?"

She pointed to the nightstand on my side of the bed, "Bottom drawer. Black velvet bag."

I dove to the side of the bed, hanging over the edge, "I’m intrigued by you specifying what I’m looking for. There's more than one toy."

Emma held onto my thigh like I might fall off the bed, "A single girl has needs."

I looked over my shoulder, "Not a judgment. It’s hot." A woman who takes control of her pleasure is hot as fuck. That she's confident enough to let me in on the fun... amazing. I did not immediately go for the velvet bag. The first thing I pulled from the drawer looked like a mini version of the "magic wand." It was purple. I rolled a little to my side to look at her. I held it up and quirked an eyebrow.

"General use. Quick, but lacks finesse. Also versatile, because you would enjoy it too."

"I bet." I loved her Amazon.com review. The next was kind of clear with gold sparkles. Very festive. This one I knew, "A rabbit."

She nodded and quoted Twister. "Rabbit is good. Rabbit is wise."

There's a lot of buttons." I started pushing them and the thing came alive. The ears wiggled and the shaft swirled.

"To be honest I only care about the ears. The cock part is only for resistance."

"Good to know." I put it back, grabbed the lube and the black velvet bag, and sat up with my legs crossed. I felt like a kid opening a present. Emma sat up, mirroring me. I opened the drawstrings and pulled out what was without a doubt a high-end vibrator. It was a deep wine color and the covering was soft. It was shaped like a "J". The shaft on the Rabbit was straight and resembled a cock. This didn’t. The way it curved looked more like fingers searching for the G-spot. On the other side was a soft collar around a hole. The controls were on the bottom curve. Even more buttons to play with!

I pouted when Emma took my toy. She held it like a game show presenter. "This is the Womanizer Duo. Rechargeable and water proof. The top buttons control the insertable bit. Bottom the suction. I reached for it and she pulled it away. "The magic is it remembers your last settings and it turns off and on with contact."

"Really? That is magic." I squinted my eyes, "How much?"

Emma laughed, "Two hundred and nine dollars. Worth every penny." She handed it back to me.

"Starts with contact?"

She nodded. I turned it upside down and put my tongue over the hole. Something started, but Emma shoved my elbow with a gasp, "Stop! Do you know where that’s been?"

She's lost her mind. I look at it then between her legs. "Nowhere my tongue hasn't." I felt the dirty smile form, "And less impressive than where your tongue’s been." I put my tongue back over the hole and a rhythmic sound started. There was feeling on my tongue opposite of my expectations. "It doesn’t really suck. It’s more of a powerful fast blow that has a side effect of suction. My tongue can’t do this." I pouted.

Her hand grabbed my face and pulled me closer to kiss, "You'll never hear me complain about what your tongue can do.”

"Good to know." I pushed her back onto the bed, laughing with her. It occurred to me how unsexy this was. Playful, but not sexy. Also, potentially awkward. I should check. I dropped the toy and crawled over her, supporting myself on my arms while I kissed her. "This ok? I don't want you to be uncomfortable or self-conscious."

Emma's head moved slightly from side to side and her tongue peeked out between her lips. "I'm good." She shrugged, "I'm confident if you can't figure it out, you'll take care of me."

That sounded like a challenge, "Oh, I'll figure it out." I sat back between her legs, crossed mine, and scooted close with her legs spread and draped over mine. After covering the toy in lube I pushed it into her. Watching her body take in the toy, like she takes in me, did things to my head. It was a rush. Same resistance as with my cock was resolved by pulling out and pushing back in. The suction part turned on as it touched her. I had a clear view and positioned it where I thought it should be. The lube made everything slippery and when it slid down below her clit, she gasped. I smiled. "Can I change the settings?" Before she could answer I pushed it deeper inside her which shifted the suction part. I could see it pull on her.

"You can do whatever you want:"

I felt her words shoot straight to my cock, "I'm making a list."

I bumped up the power and her reaction was curling her hips. Her movement shifted the focus inside her and caused a shiver. I hummed curiously. Switching my hold where my fingers lay along the shaft, and rocked it into her. Slowly. Her eyes fluttered closed for several seconds before focusing on me again. I upped the power again.

"Oh god, Bastian."

I don't know if she was still looking at me because I was watching what I was doing. Watching her start to squirm and pulse her hips. I knew very well what that felt like and while tempted to replace the toy with me, I was getting off on this too. Hard as a fucking rock.

Things moved fast when I pushed the up button again. Emma's thighs tightened and shook. I went a little faster pulsing into her. Emma fisted the fabric, one of her feet came up to press into my hip, and she arched against the bed. My name was broken by her crying out as she came.

I let her squeeze her legs together, turn aside, and break the contact. The vibrator turned itself off. We'd each had an intimate, but impersonal orgasm. It was time for contact.

After dealing with the condom and my new favorite toy I laid on my side next to her, stretching out my arm, "Come here, baby."

Emma rolled into me, moving her leg over my hip, and putting her hand on my chest. I reached between us to position myself and push inside her. We both groaned at the moment before our mouths met.

Everything was extra slick from the lube and it felt incredible. We moved together, kissed, and held on. Emma moved her leg down and grabbed my ass, pulling me deeper. Our mouths parted, but we stayed close, eyes soft and connected. I didn't want words. I didn’t need words. I knew the words. I was holding what I wanted and needed. She held me close in more ways than I could fully comprehend. I moved on top of her to finish with her fingers digging into my back.

I flopped onto my back beside her, taking her hand in mine. "I just realized I get you for more than a week. A couple days in the middle away, but over a week. Across three different locations."

Emma turned her head to smile at me, "We've been spending a lot of time together."

"I like it." Understatement.

"Me too."

It wasn't even dinner time. The rest of the night was spent making potato salad and watching TV. It wasn't too late when we went upstairs, made love again, and fell asleep.

We went for a run in the morning, weaving through the complex and nearby neighborhoods. I scrambled some eggs while Emma made some toast and cooked turkey sausage. She was going to start on the cupcakes while I showered.

I came down dressed with my swim trunks in my hand. I went over to Emma by the stove and  looked in the pan, "What is that?"

She pulled the spoon up letting the yellow liquid flow off, "Lemon curd."

"I thought you were making cupcakes?"

"I am. This goes in the middle."

I started to smile then curled my lips in trying to stop. "Ok." I pointed to the couch. "I'm just going to go over there." I tried hard to suppress my snicker.

"Why are you laughing?"

I turned and looked at her, "I'm trying hard not to."

Emma glared at me. I came back around the peninsula and leaned in the corner a few feet from her. "It's sweet." I stopped and smiled, "Are you trying to impress my mother?"

"Would that be a bad thing?"

"No, just incredibly unnecessary."

Her eyes grew wide, "Why?"

"Seriously?" She stirred while looking at me "She loves you." How does she not know this?

"Oh," She looked back at her lemon curd, ignoring me creeping closer until I hugged her from behind. "I don't know what that was about."

I kissed her neck, "I send your father pictures and videos of you. Mostly in hopes he won't kill me, but maybe one day he'll trust me with you. He’s important to you, so I want him to like me."

"He does like you."

"I know." I let go of her and scooted my ass onto the counter. "And mom likes you. That you can feed her son who has zero cooking skills will get you extra points."

 Mom took the cupcakes from me before pulling me into a tight hug. She let go of me to hug Emma, "Glad to see you."

"You too. The house looks great."

"Thanks in part to you two. We’ve changed and added a few things. We love the bakery you told me about. The sourdough is perfect."

"They'll sell you starter. Mine is four years old now."

I jumped in, "You can bake bread too?" Emma nodded. "Yum."

"When you get back from Paris we should have lunch."

"Absolutely."

That is how my mother and girlfriend started a relationship completely separate from me.

Out by the pool, I handed Emma my phone, "Take a picture for me." I jogged to the other side of the pool, my back to the railing. "Can you get the pool and view behind me?"

"You will be tiny."

"Good point." I thought a second, "I'll mention the pool in the caption."

Emma moved closer, "What are you going to do?"

"I hadn't gotten that far." I threw my arms out to the side turned my face up to the sky, closed my eyes, and smiled. Looking happy required no acting skills. I felt Emma's fingers on my stomach. I tilted my head back down and met her lips. I hummed my approval, putting an arm around her to bring her nearly naked body against mine. I nuzzled her neck to make her laugh, "Thank you, baby."

We walked back to the lounge chairs, Emma was between me and mom. This way I didn't have to turn my back on one to talk to the other. Mom looked at me, "What are you doing, Sebastian?"

"Feeding my hungry fans." The last time I'd posted was the ears. I captioned the picture, "When your mom's pool has this view what else do you need?"

I checked ten minutes later. Astonishing how many comments can be posted about my bare chest. At the top was one from Will, "A woman?"

Smart mouthed bastard of a friend. I showed Emma. She laughed, "And you have two."

I also had an idea. What could be a monumentally stupid idea. Emma looked at me, like she knew what I was thinking. "I want to send a picture of us to Will and have him post. Covering your face, but you're with me."

"Are you sure?"

I pulled my lips onto a light line and shook my head, "Nope, but I wanna do it anyway."

Mom kept reading her book, "I think it's a good idea. Different is good."

I glared at her. Guess who never liked how I handled previous girlfriends. I held out my phone, "You take it." It took several tries before mom was satisfied. Emma and I picked the same one and I sent it to Will and a text to call me. He did, almost immediately.

"Nice picture. You look pale."

"Ass." I laughed, "I want you to put something over her face and post it with a smart-ass comment."

"Are you sure?"

"Emma asked the same thing. No, I'm not, so do it quickly."

"You're incredibly lucky she puts up with you."

"No shit."

We hung up and a few minutes later Will posted the picture of us with a peach over Emma's face. He wrote, "I'm surprised he's not flipping me off."

I commented, "Check your texts, it’s there."

Will ~ Fallen off any cliffs lately?

Sebastian ~ Yesterday

Will ~ Finally. Glad to hear it.

[subarublue]

Sparda Family Bonding Time Series - Part 3

Series Description: It’s family bonding time! Sparda family style! A series of short stories revolving around platonic familial relationships between the members of the DMC crew. Warning: Lots of fluff and bonding ahead.

One Shot

Title: A Place at Our Table

Fandom: Devil May Cry

Timeline: Post DMC5

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 2655

Read on Ao3

Summary: She’d had a rough day. At least that’s what Nico told herself when her vision started getting blurry. She was just stressed and nearly dying tended to have that kind of an effect on people. She wasn’t about to cry over Nero calling her family, no of course not. It was just stress. Yeah, just stress.

Notes: At first I thought I would hate Nico’s character, but she grew on me really fast and now I just love her.

Nico grunted as the stubborn bolt refused to come off. The van was in dire need of an oil change and instead of spending the money to take it to a shop, Nero had asked if she would do it. She should have said no.

Scratch that. She should have said, Fuck you.

Was this all she was good for? Being everyone’s pet mechanic? That’s all anybody asked of her; do this, fix that, why isn’t this working?

Would it kill any of ‘em to show a little appreciation now and then?

The bolt gave way so suddenly that she dropped her wrench right on her face knocking her glasses off. She almost screamed, but just barely managed to let out a loud, closed-mouth groan instead.

Well, that hurt like a bitch.

She took a deep breath to calm herself. She inspected her glasses after picking them up, relieved they were unbroken, then set about finding the renegade bolt. She finally located it after what felt like a long-ass fifteen minutes, as it had been hidden under her toolbox where it had rolled way farther than it should have. With all the bolts holding it in place now off, she pulled the bottom panel off the van, and began the process of removing the filter and draining the old oil out when she heard the garage door open suddenly, startling her. She jerked, spilling oil on her shirt and she held her tongue from cursing, not knowing who was at the door since she couldn’t see them from her spot under the van. Nero would give her hell if she swore in front of one of the boys.

Fuck, now what?

“Hey, Nico! We gotta job! When’s the van gonna be ready?”

She gritted her teeth. Five minutes...he couldn’t have come five minutes earlier before she actually started draining the oil out? She wouldn’t have been pissed if she’d just had to slap the bottom panel back on. Well, okay maybe that was a lie. She still would have been pissed, mostly because of that stupid bolt.

It was probably a good thing he was too late, though. She didn’t want to be driving it down the road to who knows where and have it run out of oil. She was not in the mood to fix the problems that would cause.

“You’re too late! Already got the oil drainin’ so this piece of shit ain’t going anywhere for another half hour!” She couldn’t hide the irritation in her tone, but Nero seemed to be ignoring it.

“Make it twenty minutes. We got an emergency situation.” His tone was serious and demanding and that was the last straw for her. She wheeled herself out from under the van and looked up to glare at him.

“You want this done fast then come do it yourself! I’m gonna do it right, so that when we’re driving down the road, the damn engine don’t seize up, stall the van, and force us to build a fucking new one!” She was yelling now, but Nero had dealt with her so long now he wasn’t fazed much.

“Geez, who pissed in your cereal this morning?” All he got in response was more glaring. “Whatever. Just do what you can so we can get going.”

He turned to go back into the house to get ready when he barely heard her mutter something about ‘ungrateful, demanding people’ over the sound of her wheeling herself back under the van. He frowned at that. He’d known her long enough now to realize what was bothering her, but they didn’t have time. He’d have to deal with it later.

Nico felt she deserved a pat on the back, but she figured the only one who’d give her that was her own self. She’d got the oil change finished in just under twenty minutes; a record for her with this hunk of junk. It was a good thing she’d gotten it done, too. There was no way the van would have made it this far out to the middle of nowhere with what little was left in it. It was burning oil off like there was no tomorrow and she groaned at the thought of having to figure out why.

“Yet another shitty-ass problem I’m gonna get stuck fixing,” she said aloud to no one in particular. Nero was around somewhere; off dealing with whatever demons were running amok in the area they’d driven out to while she waited for him leaning against the side of the van, having a smoke.

“Would it kill someone to say please or thank you once in a while,” she said to herself angrily. She took a long drag from her cigarette, completely wrapped up in her horrible mood. So much so, that she failed to notice that her talking aloud to herself had attracted the attention of a red empusa, which was now approaching her from the side.

She’d barely had time to register that Nero was suddenly yelling something at her before she turned and saw the demon too little, too late. Time seemed to slow as she felt her adrenaline rise. It felt almost like one of those moments that people talk about where you see your life flash before your eyes, but the only thing Nico could see in that moment was her death at the hands (or was it claws?) of this demon. The empusa was bearing down on her and she was unarmed; not that there would have been much she could do even with a weapon, but still, there was definitely no way she was getting out of this alive unarmed without a miracle.

Luckily, one in the form of Nero happened to reach her in time. He jumped in between her and the demon and took the hit that was meant for her, suffering a fairly serious injury to his side. He was far from incapacitated though, and he managed to kill the empusa before it tried to run away from him after it realized a greater threat had just interrupted its attempt at killing its prey.

Nico was stunned for only a moment before her brain caught up with what happened. She registered the sight of Nero clutching his side, which was bleeding profusely and immediately sprang into action.

“Shit, Nero! If you wanna kill yourself there are better ways to go out than getting killed by an overgrown maggot!” She grabbed him by the hand on his uninjured side, still running on adrenaline, looping his arm over her own shoulders to help him into the van. Remembering there may have been other demons around, she took a cursory glance of the area finding it clear.

“Last one. Shouldn’t be any more.” Nero gritted out when he saw her scanning the area. She let out a huff of relief. Thank goodness there weren’t any more so she could focus on his injury without worry. He grunted in pain when she hefted him up to his feet and began helping him into the van.

Once inside, she got him to the couch before pulling out the first aid kit, then helped him out of his shirt so she could assess the damage. She grimaced when she saw the wound. Something like that would have surely killed her. Her momentary lapse of attention in her anger had nearly ended her life. Maybe she didn’t fight demons herself, but that didn’t mean she shouldn’t be on her toes when out in the field. Nero was lucky he was part demon himself, otherwise she’d have a lot more to feel guilty about than just an injury.

“You didn’t have to do that, ya know?” She told him as she wiped the wound clean and set about patching him up. It was mostly unnecessary; the wound would likely be completely gone in a few hours, but it was the thought that counts, right? Plus, it gave her something to focus on. The adrenaline from that tense life or death moment was starting to wear off and she realized she was starting to tremble.

“So…what? I was just supposed to let the thing skewer you? I can take a hit like this, you can’t.” He shrugged it off like it was no big deal, but she didn’t miss the wince he made while she wrapped his injured side.

“Still, ya didn’t have to jump in the way. If you were that close, you shoulda just killed the thing without takin’ the hit.” She finished wrapping his wound as he stood up to find his torn shirt.

“Couldn’t guarantee you wouldn’t have still been hurt, so I made the best decision given the situation.” He stated matter-of-factly.

Nico just scoffed. “I may be human, but I can recover from injuries too...just not as fast as your clumsy ass.”

“Yeah? But then you’d be out of commission for a while. Can’t let anything happen to my ‘pet mechanic’ now, can I?” He made air quotes around the nickname she’d effectively dubbed herself with. “Besides, that’s the kind of thing you do for family.”

Nico’s head shot up at that to look him in disbelief. “F-family?!” she half-squeaked, half-yelled out. She was flabbergasted at his remark. Did he just call me family?

“Yeah? You’ve hung around this long, put up with all the crazy shit that goes along with being a part of this, and you haven’t turned tail and ran. What else would you be?” He located his shirt and started putting it back on once he finished speaking.

She’d had a rough day. At least that’s what Nico told herself when her vision started getting blurry. She was just stressed and nearly dying tended to have that kind of an effect on people. She wasn’t about to cry over Nero calling her family, no of course not. It was just stress. Yeah, just stress.

Nico took her glasses off to rub at her eyes in an effort to keep the tears from falling. Unfortunately for her, Nero had finished getting his shirt back on and caught what she was doing and he was grinning when she put her glasses back on.

“It’s okay to cry, you know? It doesn’t make you a crybaby.” She cringed as soon as those words left his mouth. She knew exactly where this was going. “Does make you a little bitch though.”

She punched him in the arm, though Nero noticed that not only was she careful to avoid his injured side, she also didn’t punch as hard as he knew she could. “Shut the hell up! If anyone’s a little bitch here, it’s you.”

“Hey! Is that how you thank someone for saving your life?”

“Is that how you say thanks for me patchin’ you up?” They were just taunting each other; fighting almost like siblings, Nico noted; trying to get under each other’s skin, but not really meaning any of it. Just like a brother and sister…

“Hey, for real though, you okay?” Nero’s worried tone brought her out of her thoughts.

“Y-yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” She didn’t understand why Nero was suddenly so worried. She hadn’t been hurt because he’d protected her; jumped in front of a demon for her, in fact. Though it was unlikely since it was just an empusa, he still could have been killed. And it would have been her fault. What if it hadn’t turned out alright? What would she have done? How would she have told everyone? How would she have broken it to Kyrie?

It wasn’t until he grabbed her hand to hold it steady that she realized she was still trembling…and Nero had noticed, of course. “I’m totally fine. It’s just the adrenaline wearin’ off. I’m fine…t-totally fine.” She couldn’t keep her voice steady as finished talking, the stress from her whole day, nearly dying, and the thoughts and worries that brought out making her voice break.

It wasn’t until Nero was pulling her into a hug that she realized she was actually crying now. When his arms closed around her back, the dam broke loose. She couldn’t stop the sob that tore through her throat and she clutched the back of his shirt as if it were a lifeline.

“Hey, relax,” he shushed her as he comforted her. “You’re okay. I’m okay. We’re both okay, got it? We’ve been through a helluva lot worse. Beside you’ve been around long enough you know me better than that. If I’m gonna die, it ain’t gonna be to some ‘overgrown maggot’ as you so eloquently put it.” Nero’s joke brought a bit of a laugh out of her and helped to calm her nerves a bit. She pulled away and stepped back, drying her eyes as best she could. He was right; they were both okay, even if one of them was slightly injured.

Nico grimaced at that. They were sure to catch a scolding from Kyrie for being careless. Nero seemed to be on the same wavelength as her and made a similar face. “Maybe she won’t notice?” He offered. Nico only gave him a deadpan stare and he shrugged in response. “She’s probably busy fixing dinner right now, so if I don’t hang around when we get back, I doubt she’ll even see it.”

“And if she catches on, I had nothin’ to do with hiding it.” Nico held her hands up as if to absolve herself of any part of the crime of concealing injuries from Nero’s girlfriend.

“Whatever you say. Guess it’s a guy’s job to look out for someone who’s like a sister to him anyway, right?” When he said that, Nico knew he was talking about more than just the scolding they’d get. After all, you don’t jump in front of a demon for just anyone.

“Hey! A girl’s gotta look out for her clumsy-ass brother too, ya know?” They were both laughing now and Nico, having realized she’d calmed down enough to drive, took her place in the driver’s seat. She started the engine, but waited for Nero to sit down before setting off back down the road.

They didn’t get far before he spoke up again. “Thanks.” She turned to look at him briefly before setting her eyes back on the road. “For the patch up, the van…and everything else you do around here.”

She could feel the emotions welling up inside her making her eyes water again and blinked back the sudden tears. It wouldn’t do to start crying while driving. “Yeah? Well you’re welcome. And...thanks for savin’ my ass back there, too.”

“Like I said, it’s what you do for family.” He said it so casually, like she should have already known this. In hindsight, maybe she should have. They’d been through a lot together already. And not just her and Nero, but everyone else, too. Incidents like what happened in Redgrave tended to make a big impact on people’s lives and their relationships with each other.

Neither spoke the rest of the way home, which left Nico to her own thoughts as she drove.

Family, huh? That doesn’t sound too bad.

It didn’t really hit home for her though, until they got back. They came in the back door, through the kitchen and dining room. Nero only stopped to give Kyrie a kiss as she finished up dinner, taking care that she didn’t see the bloody tear in his shirt. Then he went on to put his stuff away, change, and probably throw his shirt away so his girlfriend didn’t find it in the laundry.

Nico, however, stopped as she passed through the dining area and looked at the dinner table. They were six places set, not five like there used to be for just Nero, Kyrie, and the three orphan boys they looked after.

There was one more: for her. She smiled.

← Part 2 • Part 3 of this series • Part 4 →

[thecursedhellblazer]

At the Edge of Nowhere

(( So, guess who went ahead and scratched that crazy itch I got yesterday? Yep, Scotty did. It turned in a small fic instead of a drabble, since apparently I had more to play out than I initially thought, but...here it is. I took the chance to experiment a bit with the writing style too, while I was at it, ‘cause...why not? ))

(( I’m not really sure of where the idea came from, I just really wanted them to have interact, somehow, without inventing something too complicated. And this was the result. Also, it doesn’t mean that I won’t try to shove Five into John’s universe or vice versa at some point, but for now I’m good with this xD ))

(( Sharing just in case anyone is in the mood for some random oddity! ))

(( I even posted in on Ao3 if anyone wants to have a look at it there! ^^” ))

They sit side by side, watching the eternal sunset of Eternity stretching before them, swinging their feet past the edge of the Abyss, unfazed by the danger of its depths. The darkness seems to be threatening to suck them down, condemning them to an endless fall, and yet they pay it no mind, each of them far too interested in sipping and enjoying his drink.

The silence floods past them, over them, through them, carrying the whispers of their lives. However, for this ephemeral moment, they are given the almost unique chance to ignore them. It’s a rare gift, one that deserved to be savoured, like a fine well-aged vintage. Like the ambrosia that the ancient gods, legit and false, so much have lauded.

And so they sit, the Boy and the Fool, side by side, on the edge of the Abyss.

The atmosphere is almost companionable, as much as it can be when shared by two strangers who carry with them too much baggage. A past and a present that are too dark, too painful. There’s as much kinship and understanding between them as there’s mistrust.

They let the quietness linger for a while, listening only to the taste of the alcohol that coats their tongues, knowing that the stasis won’t last. Neither of them is good at keeping his mouth shut when something is making their skin itch.

“Th’ ‘ell ‘s a lad like yeh doin’ in such a place?” The Fool finally asks, turning his eyes away from the magnetic horizon and landing them on his unlikely companion.

The Boy scoffs. Why is it always the same old story with everyone he meets? “I’d watch my fucking tongue if I were you, young man,” he shoots back, with a withering look. “I’m far older than I look. And I’m older than you for sure.”

A half laugh rises with a small cloud of smoke, but it dies in the matter of seconds as the seriousness of those declarations settles in.

“Blimey. Yeh ain’t pullin’ me leg, are yeh? ‘Ow old are yeh s’posed to be den, mate?”

“Do I look like I’m kidding? Trust me, mate, I’m not. I’m fifty-eight. And I’m stuck in the body of a thirteen-years-old. There’s nothing funny about it.”

“Bloody ‘Ell. Fifty-eight n’ still a lad? Tha’s...insane. I dun envy yeh. Nay.”

The Fool shakes his head, but, despite the lingering astonishment, there is a glint of amusement in his eyes. “Tell us, tho. Woh’s yeh secret? I gots me diabolical trick to slow down agin’ n’ all, but it obviously ain’t workin’ as well as yehs.”

“I got stuck in the future for forty-five years and, when I finally figured out the equation to go back to my time, I missed a typo and...this is the result.”

“Soddin’ math. ‘S one o’ th’ bloody reasons why I ne’er managed to get alchemy rite. T’in’s keep blowin’ up in me face.”

“Sodding math indeed. Cheers.”

“Cheers.”

They clink their glasses together and go back staring at the frozen skyline. Two sets of blue eyes. Different shades of the iris, similar heaviness burdening them.

The Boy steers his drink with his straw, lips pursing pensively. “Speaking of things that suck, what is this place exactly? Am I dreaming? Or did I accidentally take some of my brother’s drugs and this is like the most boring trip in history?”

The Fool scoffs. “Gonna pretend tha’ yeh didn’t jus’ insult me too, together wit’ dis soddin’ place.”

His gaze wanders for a split moment, touching their motionless surroundings. “Ah, I dunno, mate. Could be yeh dream, aye. Could be mine. Or maybe we bot’ stepped inside another real wit’out noticin’ n’ ‘ere we are. Wouldn’t be th’ first time for me. Won’t be th’ last either.”

“I’ve never been in another world. I’ve travelled through time, maybe a bit too much, and I’ve rushed through the fabric of space but this…” The Boy waves his free hand. “This is new. It’s easier to think of it as a dream, so I’d go with that, if you don’t mind. The last thing I need is another headache.”

“Wohe’er works wit’ yeh, mate. I get it. At times, ‘s be’er pretendin’ life ain’t real. ‘S good for yeh mental sanity. Even if yeh got none left.”

The Fool takes yet another drag from his cigarette. Curiously enough, it doesn’t seem to be shortening, even if the ash falls down on his trench coat.

“One t’in’ I can tell yeh ‘bout dis place, tho. It ain’t somewhere e’eryone can visit. Yeh gotta carry some serious shite wit’ yeh to ‘ave stumbled in ‘ere. Do yeh?”

The Boy shrugs. “Maybe? I kept pushing and pushing, even after my father had told me not to and I ended up after the End of the world. I heard the bastard’s voice echoing in my head for the past forty-five years.” He makes his voice thicker for a moment. “I told you so, boy. I told you so. Asshole.”

A long sip from his drink, as if he is trying to wash away that intrusive voice from his ears, before he continues.

“I worked for this organisation that monitors the timeline for a while as a trained assassin. They made me into the perfect killer, a tool for their plans. I had my goals, though, since the start. I took their deal just so that I could go back to try to stop the Apocalypse and save my family. We ended up breakin the world anyway, so I dragged them all back in time to try again. Of course, all that shit followed us. Because it’s never that easy, is it?”

The Fool nods and the Boy can tell that his companion knows that sort of feeling far too well. It’s nice to be fully understood, for once. Even if the understanding comes from a nameless stranger he’ll probably never see again. Assuming that their meeting is truly happening in the first place.

“So...We saved the world this time but broke the timeline. And now my childhood home is gone and me and my siblings are stuck in a timeline that holds no place for us anymore. I’m still trying to figure out how that’s supposed to work. Oh, and that bastard of my adoptive father is hunting us down using the kids he adopted in our place. It’s a real mess.”

There’s bitterness colouring his voice, the embers of a fight that’s too stubborn to die just yet, but the exhaustion is stronger.

“Though, between you and me...All I really want is a decent nap and a dozen more drinks. Maybe get a dog too. Not necessarily in that order.”

The straw produces a light slurping sound as he takes the next sip. “What’s your story? You must have one too, since you’re here...wherever here is.”

The Fool tips his head, in a sign of acknowledgement. No comments follow the tale, and there’s no real need for them there, out of time and space.

“Grew up in me own particular version o’ ‘Ell. Me oul man was th’ fuckin’ opposite o’ ‘father o’ th’ year’...So, I ran in my teen years, still thinkin’ I coulda owned th’ world. Stuck me nose in e’ery bloody t’in’ tha’ was magic n’ occult. One nite I got too cocky and damned an innocent girl to Hell. Earned a bloody place wit’ me name down there too in the process.”

The voice that spells out the words is casual, but there’s something haunted in his expression, darkening his eyes.

“Spent all me life tryin' to make up for tha’ bloody mistake. Ended up messin up meself and most o’ me mates n’ th’ people who ‘ad th’ ‘orrible o’ puttin’ their faith in me as a result. Girl’s still in ‘Ell, th’ bloody Devil ‘imself gots an eternal grudge against me, I gots demon blood in me veins n’ me soz arse ‘s still damned. I might not be a professional like yeh, but I bet I gots jus’ as much blood on me ‘ands. N’ even more souls on me conscience.”

The ice clinks against the transparent walls as the glass is lifted. More sourness to wipe away the one that the words have left on his tongue.

“Nowadays, ‘s mostly me, meself n’ I. Me best mate, too, from time to time. No clue o’ ‘ow he survived bein’ by me side for so long. ‘M still tryin’ to make t’in’s rite, but...for th’ most I jus’ try to be there to do th’ bloody dirty job no self-appointed ‘ero gots th’ time to do. I might be lost, past th’ point o’ no return, but there are lots o’ people out there who aren’t yet. Th’ fuckin’ least I can do ‘s tryin’ to ‘elp ‘em, aye? Make dis soz existence o’ mine wort’ more than misery n’ destruction.”

A drag from his cigarette and there’s a small hand landing on his shoulder, in a brief pat, before he has finished sucking the smoke in. The light pressure says more than a thousand words could.

“Between you and me, tho...I could use a dozen drinks too. Maybe more. N’ a bloody vacation. To sod off somewhere, even for jus’ a day. Maybe take me best mate n’ dis other lad I know. Oh, he could use a break too, th’ poor sod.”

The Boy makes a sound of agreement and he is back stirring his drink. “What a pair we make, you and I. And I don’t even know you.”

“I ‘ear tha’ loud n’ clear, mate. Bloody loud n’ bloody clear. Woh’s tha’ yeh drinkin’ anyway?”

“What? You ne’er seen a margarita? Where the hell are you from? England or Mars? Come on, try it.”

“Oi, I know woh a fuckin’ margarita is, oul man. Yehs jus’ a bit...flashier than woh ‘m used to.”

“Special recipe. I perfected it myself.”

“Now, tha’s more like it. I like a bloke who can make ‘is own drinks. There. Yeh like g n’ t?”

The glasses pass from one hand to another and then they both turn to look back at the unchanged horizon, holding each other’s drink.

A moment to sniff the liquors, in unison, and then the Boy dips his lips in the clear spirit while the Fool wraps his mouth around the straw. The tastes mix in the silence and it’s a symphony of citrus and sourness, with just the right amount of sweetness coming at the end.

“So, what happens now?” The Boy asks, after a moment.

The Fool shrugs. “Ah, I guess we wait till all dis fades. Or till we do. ‘S always ‘ard to tell when it comes to dis sort o’ shite.”

A huffs, with the faintest hint of irritation. “For someone who’s supposed to know a lot about this stuff, you give the worst cryptic answers. I can’t tell if you’re that ignorant or if you’re just fucking with me.”

A nudge in a smaller, slender side and a sharp smirk. “Who knows, mate. Yeh guess ‘s as good as mine. Keep th’ drink. I gots more back where I come from. Consider it a safe trip back home present. I’ll keep yehs as a reminder.”

“A present from a guy I never truly met? And a reminder of something we didn’t even speak about?”

“Nay. Jus’ th’ memory o’ some peace n’ quiet in decent company.”

“Fair enough. I can drink to that.”

[takeiteasypeasybaby]

Save Me: Chapter 45 - The Past is a Treacherous Journey

Molly finds that the presence of new people are involuntarily triggering old memories of her past, her childhood and perhaps make her dredge up old nightmares she would rather forget.

Daryl had told me about what had happened last night with Henry and the kid which was made worse by the news that Luke and Alden were missing.

They had asked to go with Connie and Magna to search for the whisperers when they were separated and ambushed.

Only Connie and Magna returned to Hilltop.

Daryl told me that we should question them, saying maybe they could've done it but I didn't believe it.

We hadn't known Connie and Magna long, but I could sense that they were good people.

He said that when he had asked Lydia about this, she wouldn't really talk and only gave small pieces of information about their group that wasn't even worth reporting on.

Of course we suspected that the whisperers had taken them, maybe even killed them so we needed Lydia now more than ever as leverage, should they attack us.

Tara had asked me to go down to the cell and speak to her because as much as she hated them for what they did to Jesus, she said that there was something light about the girl, almost like she was innocent in all this.

I told her that Daryl and I would listen in, knowing that Henry wanted to talk to her.

Maybe we could find out some information that she wouldn't tell us.

I still wasn't sure about her, but I did as Tara asked and went to the cell.

Daryl and I went down in the evening, just as the sun was setting and we sat next to each other on the step outside the cell, pressing our ears to the grate on the wall.

There was silence for a while until Henry first spoke.

'You said about your mom, where's your dad?' he asked quietly, like he knew we would be listening.

'He got bit, I didn't know that then but he was slowing us all down' she said coldly.

I looked at Daryl and frowned at this.

'Why am I even telling you this?' she asked scoffing.

'Beats the quiet, beats being alone' Henry answered nervously.

'Never been alone, my people travelled in groups with the dead' she said confidently.

I knew then that she lied about being the last one, even if her mom was still out there, there had to be more of them.

'Not gonna lie, walking around in dead people's skins is pretty messed up' Henry said chuckling.

'Thinking that a place like this won't fall, that's messed up' she bit back.

'Agree to disagree' Henry answered.

'Your dad's an asshole like mine' she spoke with annoyance.

'Daryl's not my dad, he's just here doing a favour for my mom' Henry said quietly.

Daryl looked down at this, I knew this hurt him.

'I thought you said your mom died' the kid asked.

'She's my second mom, not one you wanna mess with' Henry said proudly.

I smiled knowing how strong Carol was.

'Same as mine' the kid said quietly.

Daryl looked back up at me in realisation that the 'mom' the kid had spoke about may be more dangerous than we thought and what if there were many more like her?

'I'm gonna go down there' Daryl whispered to me as he crept slowly round and down the steps.

I nodded to him as I stayed seated and just listened to what he was gonna say to her.

'Quiet' Daryl said warningly to Henry as he walked past to the girl's cell.

He was about to say something until he stopped for some reason and just looked at her.

I couldn't see that much from where I was sat.

So, I shifted round to get a better view and saw Daryl sit down in front of the cell, placing his dagger by his side.

'Those scars on your arm, they come from a beating, so lemme ask you somethin...if your dad's dead, who gave you those scars?' he asked seriously.

My eyes widened at this, maybe Tara was right, maybe she was just an innocent in all this.

Maybe her mom was the real threat.

'My mom' she said as her voice broke.

My heart sank thinking about what this kid must have been through.

I hoped that Daryl felt the same way because he knew what that abuse felt like, having gone through it himself.

He started to sympathise and soften when he refocussed on the task at hand.

'Two of ours went missing yesterday, we found their horses though, half skinned, half eaten. You know anything about that?' Daryl asked sternly.

'How could I? I've been here' she bit back.

'What would your mom do if she crossed some of our people? Would she kill em?' Daryl asked anxiously.

'She might, if she had to' she replied with fear in her voice.

She crouched into a ball and bowed her head down to her knees.

'Lydia, oh, Lydia Say, have you met Lydia? Oh, Lydia, the tattooed lady. She has eyes that folks adore so, and a torso even more so Lydia, oh, Lydia, that Encyclopaedia. Oh, Lydia, the Queen of tattoo - On her back is the Battle of Waterloo'

She started to mumble something to herself, I couldn't quite make out what.

'That's your name?' Daryl asked softly, she remained silent.

'Your mom sing that to ya?' Daryl asked calmly.

'My dad, whenever I was scared which was a lot back then' she answered sadly.

'How old were you?' Daryl asked quietly.

'Five or six, who the hell knows' she answered getting defensive.

'Your mom...' Daryl started to say softly as she cut him off.

'My mom did what she had to do. My dad was weak, he was holding all of us back so she killed him for us' she said angrily.

Jesus christ no wonder the kid was so scared, from the sounds of things her mom was a monster and she believed she was a saint.

I needed time to think so I left Daryl to talk to her and report back to me later while I walked around the compound, clearing my head as I walked.

It was pitch black and most people were asleep so I knew I wouldn't be disturbed.

I climbed up to the guard post where I had sat with Tara a while ago and reminisced about the past.

~Flashback~

'Hurry up Molly! Catch me if you can!' Meghan yelled as she ran through the golden fields ahead of me.

I giggled, saying 'oh I will!'.

I yelled competitively as Lilly and Tara came running either side of me as we all chased her.

The soft summer breeze flowing through our loose hair as we darted through the tall grass.

'Not if I catch you first!' Lilly shouted as she sprinted faster ahead of me, making Meghan giggle wildly.

I was competitive so I sprinted as fast as I could while Tara stayed cautiously behind me.

'C'mon, catch me!' Meghan yelled happily as she turned her head slightly to see how far behind we were.

She carried on running and tripped suddenly on a loose rock, sending her down the hill.

I screamed a blood curdling scream as she dropped out of sight.

'Meghan!' Lilly screamed as we sprinted after her tumbling body.

We slipped and slid down the muddy verge when we found her next to a large boulder.

'No' I yelled in disbelief as I finally caught up to Lilly who was crouched down over her body.

Thunder started to crack and zip through the sky, sending buckets of rain down upon us.

I panted and gasped through the rain as my knees gave way, my legs sinking into the mud as I knelt by Lilly.

'No, no, no' I said trying to smile.

'You're fine, aren't you darling?' I said as I placed my hand on the back of her head which was dented by the rock.

Blood seeped across my damp hand as tears flowed down my face and my eyes widened in horror.

'Tara do something!' I yelled at her as she stood behind us and covered her mouth with shaking hands.

Lilly stroked Meghan's face, wiping away the rain and blood, each stroke was forceful like she was trying to bring her back to life.

'Aghhh' Tara screamed as she saw the amount of blood on her sisters.

'Angel?' I asked pleadingly as I lifted up her head and positioned her across my lap.

'Please, wake up' I asked as I shook her.

Lilly steadied my hands as she collapsed across her body, her hands on my arms with a tight grip.

~Present day~

I shook myself back to the present as I pushed back that memory.

It was strange, the girl named Lydia reminded me so much of my little sister Meghan.

The kid's strength and confidence reminded me of the time when Meghan would fight off bullies at school and when Lilly and I would pick her up from the principals office.

She always told us that she was defending her friends or someone not capable of defending themselves.

While I gave her a good lecture in front of the principal, I always high fived her when we left the building, because she always stood up for what was right.

She was the strongest out of all of us and the youngest.

Some days I wonder how the hell I made it and she didn't, she was more able and equipped for this shit than the rest of us.

I saw Meghan in Lydia and I knew that she was just defending what she believed to be right, which was her mother.

Even though I didn't trust her, I did respect her and I just had to allow her to trust in us and hopefully she would feel welcome.

She said that places like this couldn't exist, well I was gonna prove to her that they do.

I had to this, for Tara, for Meghan and Lilly.

For all those I had already lost, we had to stop this before it starts and turns into all out war like it did with the Saviours.

[yeet-or-be-hawed]

Hunters of Flesh and Money Part 7 Arthur Morgan x reader

After receiving news that Arthur is missing, you do everything you can to help Sadie keep the gang safe while Arthur and the others are on Guarma. 

Pining and Fluff with *GASP* FIRST KISS?!

*Writer’s note: I cannot tell you guys how long this has been in my drafts and I’m so glad we’ve finally gotten to this point! This has been one hell of a slow burn but its so worth the wait ❤ Thanks to everyone who’s been keeping up with this fic, its such a personal story for me and I’m glad it can be enjoyed by others. Please enjoy this happy loving reunion!

Part 6

Masterlist  

The busy Saint Denis square was bustling around you as you flipped through your mail rather impatiently. It had been weeks since you had last written Arthur and gotten no response. Your anxieties were getting the better of you, had you scared him off with your intimacy? Had you finally decided to open up just to have him shut you out? You remembered his face as you gave him one last look when you dropped off his supplies. You were certain there was adoration behind those eyes and even through your anxious tendencies something felt off. Relief flooded you as you identified an envelope signed in Sadie’s handwriting. It seemed odd, as Arthur was usually the one who wrote out the address and formalities on the front, considering his handwriting was much neater. You opened the letter excitedly: 

Dear Fletcher, 

I wish I could be writing to you in better circumstances. Something terrible has happened and I need your help. Arthur is...the truth is I’m not sure where Arthur is. Meet me in Lagras and I’ll tell you more. Come quickly.

-Sadie

Your heart dropped to your stomach as you scanned the words on the paper. You reread it over and over again. Arthur is missing? Your chest felt like someone dropped an anvil on it and you crumpled the note into your satchel and mounted your horse. 

The ride to Lagras felt like an eternity, your mind moving a thousand miles an hour. What was Sadie doing in Lagras? Would it not have been easier to meet her at their camp? You nearly jumped off your horse as you passed into Lagras, scanning the small cluster of buildings. Sadie was sitting on the porch of an old beaten down house, when she saw you she ran into your arms. “Fletcher, thank god!” she gasped. 

You hugged her tightly and grabbed her by the shoulders. “Where’s Arthur? What’s going on?” 

Sadie sighed shakily and whistled for her horse. “I’ll tell you on the way.” 

You nodded.

Sadie led the way to Lakay and you followed close behind. “Few weeks ago, Dutch had this crazy idea of robbin’ the trolley station in Saint Denis- I know, don’t give me that look I thought it was stupid too. From what Charles was tellin’ me, lawmen showed up almost immediately. Dutch, Bill, Arthur, Javier, and Micah escaped on a boat but,” she sighed. “Who knows where though.” 

You were speechless. “A boat?” 

“Mhmm,” she nodded. “And that’s the last anyone saw of ‘em.” She turned her horse down the trail and you could see Lakay just ahead. “Pinkertons came a coupla days later and we had to move. I managed to get everyone out safe but...” 

You looked at her and she looked tired. Her eyes were sunken in and she looked like she hadn’t slept in days. “I’m here to help, don’t worry.” you rode your horses to the hitching posts and slid off your horse. “Whatcha need, Sadie? I can bring supplies, I can keep guard, you tell me what I can do for you.” 

She sighed in relief and put her hand on your shoulder. “I just need an extra hand keepin’ everyone together, and guard duty would help.” She laughed weakly. “I don’t got much money right now, but a wagon load of food and dry clothes would be appreciated.” 

“Keep your money Sadie, I’ll run back to camp at first light.” You looked up at the evening sky, melting from day to night. “I’ll keep guard for the night, you get some rest.” 

“It’s okay, I can-” 

“No,” you cut her off sternly. “You been through enough, you asked me to help and that’s why I’m here.” 

She hugged you tight, you could feel just how skinny she had become since losing her home. “Thank you,” she whispered. 

You gave her a gentle squeeze. “You’re welcome.” 

You watched as Sadie disappeared into the small cabin, you could hear the commotion of others, the sound of conversations but you couldn’t make out the words. You pulled your shotgun from your back and sat on a bench. Your mind trailed back to Arthur, where could he be? You had never even been on a boat, you wondered what it was like. The gnawing in your stomach wouldn’t leave, it twisted and turned and showed you scenario after scenario of Arthur, dead on some beach or shot and thrown off the side of the boat into the sea. You sighed and looked up at the sky. The stars were bright tonight, you prayed Arthur was okay, looking at the same sky as you as he made his way home. You weren’t sure how, but you clung to the hope he would find his way back to you. 

The nights on Guarma were cooler and less muggy than the day. This island paradise Dutch had dreamed for them was more or less a reality now, but not the reality any of them had hoped for. He looked over at the others, asleep on the ground beside of him. No matter how he laid, pressure against his burnt body made him uncomfortable. His skin was bright red, worse than any sunburn he had ever gotten. The jungle was full of unfamiliar sounds that kept him awake, everything here was so different, and even with his fellow gang members laying beside him he felt so alone. The thought of you danced across his mind and his chest seized. Would you ever find out what happened to him if he died here? Or would you just think he abandoned you and moved on to the next state? Would you grieve him, or would you even notice he was gone? The feeling of your lips pressed against his forehead returned to him and he knew he would make it home, he had to. Arthur looked up at the sky, no matter how far he was from home, he could still see the stars shining on him. He promised himself he would make his way back home, back to you. The thought of you kept him going.

You stifled a yawn as the morning sun rose over the trees. The night was uneventful, not even a single rider passed through. Your body felt heavy but now wasn’t the time for sleep, the second you were relieved of guard duty, you had to ride back to camp and get supplies. The door opened, but Sadie wasn’t the one who walked out.  A woman with dark hair pulled into a bun sat beside you with a repeater in her hands. Her eyes were pink and swollen and it looked like she hadn’t slept at all through the night. “I can take over from here.”

You cocked an eyebrow at her, “you sure?”

“Yeah,” she snapped back. “Why?”

“Looks like you could use a bit more sleep, if I’m bein’ honest.”

She didn’t look at you, her eyes stared vacantly out into the trees. “Cain’t sleep.” She mumbled, her frustrated tone melted away.

You put a hand on her back. “You worried bout your friends?”

She laughed humorlessly. “I don’t know what he is to me anymore. My husband? The father of my child? A man i cain’t stand? Or a man I can’t live without?” She ran her fingers through her hair. “And the boy...” her voice cracked and she trailed off.

You could see the tears welling up in her eyes and you shifted uncomfortably, this wasn’t exactly your strong suit. “Him and the others, they’ll be back. If they’re anything like Arthur, they’re tough enough to get through hell and back.”

She looked at you and gave you a soft smile. “You’re her, aren’t you? The woman who came to camp awhile back and brought the wagon of food and furs right?”

You nodded.

“I’ve heard him talk about you- usually when he’s too drunk to know what he’s sayin’. I also heard him askin’ Hosea for advice.” She paused and swallowed the lump in her throat. “Me and John, we ain’t- we aren’t the best couple, we spend more time arguin’ and bitin’ at each others throats but I love him. Goddamn it, I love that man so much it hurts. You seem to care a lot about Arthur, I can tell. Don’t let yourself get in the way of your own happiness.”

You were speechless, certainly the heat you felt across your face and neck was from the humid swampy air. “I-“ you cleared your throat. “I need to get back to camp, I’ll be back with food and blankets. Is Sadie awake?”

The woman nodded.

You stood and opened the door. You looked over your shoulder as you stepped into the threshold. “What was your name?”

She gave you a friendly smile, “Abigail.”

You nodded and entered the small cabin. The amount of people stuffed inside was shocking, you recognized a couple of people from the last time you saw Arthur. You tried to avoid making eye contact as you made your way to the corner where Sadie was cleaning a rifle, the bags under her eyes weren’t as dark and she looked more alert. “Have a good night’s rest?”

“Bout as good as I could get.” She set the rifle down beside her. “How was it last night?”

You shrugged. “If you were lookin’ for a quiet place in the middle of no where you sure as hell found it, I didn’t see a soul.”

She nodded, “good. The less we gotta move the better.”

You pulled a piece of parchment and a pen from your satchel. “Tell me what ya need, Sadie.”

“Well, we don’t need too much-“

“Stop, don’t worry bout puttin’ me out. I got enough money stocked up it ain’t gonna hurt me one bit to help y’all out. Now tell me, what do you need?”

She sighed. “Food is the main thing, we ain’t picky anything will do.”

You nodded as you scribbled on the paper. “I got plenty of meat stocked. What else?”

“We salvaged the blankets you brought us, but just bout all of us soaked through our shoes. I know they’re a lot of work so it’s fine if you can’t-“

You gave her a dismissive wave. “Okay, shoes. I’ll also need to know how many ya got with ya, how many men and women. Any kids?”

Sadie paused briefly to count on her fingers, “six women, six men, and one little boy.”

You nodded as you jotted it down. “How bout clothes? It’s mostly furs and leather goods so I’m not sure how useful it would be during the day, but maybe when it gets colder at night?”

Sadie nodded. “If you have any spare shirts or pants layin’ around that would be nice.”

You nodded. “How bout horses? I got a Suffolk Punch that drives the wagon, I wont be doin’ any deliveries any time soon so I can let you borrow him after I get the supplies down here.”

“Nah,” Sadie said. “We got plenty, but if you have any spare hay or carrots that would be appreciated.”

You nodded and scanned over your list. “I ain’t too far from Saint Denis, you need me to grab anything from the store?”

Sadie thought for a moment. “Some more ammo would be great, if you could check the post office that would be a big help too. The guys made quite a ruckus so I ain’t let anybody outta sight. The alias is-“

“Tacitus Kilgore?”

She smiled. “Yes. But you really don’t gotta go outta your way for us, the leather goods and food is more than enough.”

You shook your head. “You’ve helped me through more rough spots than I can count. Plus,” you rubbed your neck sheepishly, “I uh, I know how much these people mean to him-to Arthur. I just...”

Sadie put her hand on yours. “I know.” She paused. “Okay you best be gettin’ on the road.”

You nodded, “right.”

When you arrived back to camp, the wagon was full and Cripps was hard at work on tanning hides. You read the list of things to him, “we got enough stockpiled or do I need to go huntin’?”

Cripps scanned the list carefully, looking up at the wagon occasionally then back down to the list. “What’s already loaded was supposed to be for the Vermont order which is mostly smoked meats and winter wear. I’ll work on gettin’ the rest if you want to head on into Saint Denis. I should have everything else ready and loaded up by the time you get back.”

You sighed in relief, the grumpy old man you used to barely tolerate was becoming one of your best friends. “Thank you Cripps, this means a lot to me. Do you think you can hold down fort while I help out Sadie and the gang?”

“Of course!” He puffed out his chest confidently. “I was gunslingin’ and robbin’ before you were born. Do what you gotta do.”

You nodded and tipped your hat as you headed towards Ophelia to mount up. The quiet ride to Saint Denis allowed your mind to wander and it fell back to Arthur. How long exactly would it take for him to come back? Weeks, or maybe months? The pit in your stomach reformed- would he come back? The thought made your chest seize, it felt like you couldn’t breath. No, you had to believe he was coming back, he is coming back. But again, how long? Cripps was right, you were confident in his ability to run the camp while you were away and you both had stashed money back so it wouldn’t hurt the business to halt production for awhile, but how long could you hold off? You shook the thought from your mind, this wasn’t about you. This was about the people you promised to help. This was about keeping the people Arthur cares about safe and making sure he had his family waiting for him when he returns. Deep down, it was also about being there when he returns. You wanted to hear his voice again, take in his scent. You needed to feel his arms around you again. You weren’t going to let the fleeting happiness he brought slip through the cracks.

There was nothing under the alias of Tacitus and you were unsurprised but disappointed that you had nothing as well. Logically you knew there was no way for him to write you, but a small part of you still hoped for an envelope with his scrolling handwriting.

Next stop was the gun shop, not far from the post office. The congested streets were a nuisance to say the least. You rolled your eyes as a man walked into the street and almost right under the hooves of your horse- then cursed you for not watching where you were going. You had to ignore the urge to respond, now wasn’t the time to get into fights and call attention to yourself, you rolled your eyes and continued.

The street that the small gun shop was nestled on wasn’t as busy, but you weren’t as keen to leave your horse out here for long, you tethered her close to the window.

“Welcome!” The man behind the counter exclaimed as you entered. “What can I help you wish today?”

“I need some ammo, regular rounds for repeaters, rifles, and pistols. I’d also like a box of slugs for the shotgun.”

The man’s thick eyebrows went up into his hairline and he pulled the boxes. “Stocking up today, eh?”

You nodded as you pulled out your billfold.

“Seems like everyone has been on high alert since the trolley incident.”

“Oh?” Could he be talking about Arthur?

“You hadn’t heard?”

You shook your head no.

“A group of hooligans tried to rob the trolley station- why I don’t know. But they damn near shot up the whole town on their way out, some say they escaped on a boat, others say they’re still ridin’ around north east of here. Apparently one got captured and is on his way to Siska.”

This peaked your attention. “Siska?”

“Yeah, I don’t know too much about the details but it was in the paper a few weeks back.”

“You don’t happen to still have it do you?”

“I might,” he shuffled around to the back of his store, and returned with a folded newspaper. “I collect them, so it’ll cost you-“

You pulled $10 from your billfold and handed it to him. “This oughta do.”

“It most certainly will.” He handed you the paper. “Do you need help carrying the ammo out as well?”

“I got it, thanks for everything!” You called back to him as you loaded your arms full.

“No, thank you.” He said as he counted his money.

You stuffed the newspaper into your satchel and loaded the supplies onto your horse. The day was passing quickly and the longer you were away from Sadie and the others, you grew more uneasy. You pushed Ophelia hard, it didn’t take long to return to camp, she didn’t even come to a full stop before you jumped off her back.

“Perfect timing,” Cripps called from the other side of the wagon. “You’re all loaded up and ready to go.”

You hugged him and he guffawed in surprise. “Hey now, didn’t I tell you you were too old for me?”

You laughed with him, “you did, I just hope you know how much I appreciate you and your help.”

“Don’t you start goin’ soft on me or I’ll have to find a new business partner.” He joked.

You rolled your eyes, “as if you could find a gun half as good as me.”

“You’re right,” his voice has a rare sentimental tone. “So you better come back.”

“I will.”

You checked the wagon to make sure everything was secured then mounted up. Cripps called to you just before you could whip the reins. “Take that damn dog with you!”

“You sure?” You called back.

“Hell yeah I’m sure, if you ain’t here I ain’t takin’ care of that mangy mutt.”

“Thanks Cripps.” You responded sarcastically. “Jake!”

Jake jumped up from his spot and ran to the wagon. “C’mere boy, jump up you can do it!”

He wiggled his butt in anticipation for the jump and lept up. He made it just barely and had to pull himself up onto the bench. You gave him a pat on the head and waved to Cripps as you whipped the reins. As you pulled onto the road you gave a sharp whistle and Ophelia wasn’t far behind.

It was early evening by the time you returned to Lakay, another woman had taken Abigail’s spot on guard. She was older with a knot of gray hair on top of her head. She raised her gun to you as you stopped in front of the worn down shack. Before you could speak, Sadie was through the door. “You’re back!”

With Sadie’s approval, the woman lowered her gun and you climbed down the wagon. “Delivery for Mrs. Adler?”

She wrapped her arms around your neck, “thank you so much.”

“It weren’t nothin’,” you said. “I also brought a friend.” You gave a short whistle and Jake jumped down and stood by your side. You gave him a pat on the head, “He’s a good boy, trained him myself. He was a hunting dog but I trained him to bark at the sign of threat so he’ll make a great guard dog.” You made a clicking noise and pointed to the porch. He immediately responded by sitting in the spot you pointed to and keeping an alert watch. “Okay, lets get some extra hands and get this wagon unloaded.”

To your surprise, it was mostly women who helped unload the wagon, the exception being the man named Charles that helped you find Trelawny. He seemed to recognize you when he greeted you with a grunt but he didn’t say much after. With the help of the others, it didn’t take long to bring the supplies inside. One of the men, a pear shaped man with a moustache went to work with the meats you brought and a rusty stew pot in the fireplace. You took a seat beside the window and pulled out the newspaper. There on the front page was a picture of Arthur. The other men Sadie had mentioned were also pictured, you recognized the one called Bill from the mayor’s party but your eyes just kept floating back to Arthur. The sketch was rough and didn’t do him any justice at all, but the sight of him still took your breath away. There wasn’t much in the article that you hadn’t already heard from Sadie, but it seemed like the owner of the gun shop was right- under the article there was a picture of a man with long dark hair. The name under the picture was John Marston, apparently he had been caught while the others made their escape. He was sent to Siska to await trial.

“Whatcha readin’?” Sadie asked as she pulled a chair up beside you. You handed her the paper.

She scanned it and sighed. “I read this the day it came out. Still cain’t believe they got John.” Her eyes shifted pointedly to Abigail and the little boy that was sleeping in her lap. “It’s got Abigail all kinds of torn up.”

You nodded, the boy in her lap looked identical to the man in the picture. “I talked to her a little bit this morning, I could tell she was upset.”

“It’s been rough the last couple months to say the least. We lost some good people, and it don’t feel like we’re gettin’ much closer to anything better.”

You put your hand on her shoulder, “I know you’ve been through a lot, but I’m here to help. I got everything arranged so that I can stay here with you guys. I may not be able to replace the ones you’ve lost, but I want to help however I can to get you all through this.”

A week passed, in that week you learned all the names of the new people you’d been staying with and began getting to know them. The more you got to know these people, the more you sympathized for them. Everyone had their own piece of the story which created the grand picture of just what Arthur’s life was like. They had lost so many recently, you could see the grieving in their eyes and hear it in their voices as they spoke of those who were gone. One thing that everyone had in common was their unwavering love and devotion to the patchwork family they had made, it left you with a bittersweet feeling in your heart. You had never even traveled with more than a few people and it never lasted long-some of these people have been together for as long as they could remember.

“Hello dear girl,” Trelawny’s singsong voice broke your train of thought and pulled your attention from the rain streaked window.

“Hey Josiah,” you said as he pulled up a chair beside you.

“I hear you’ve been making friends,” he paused to read your reaction. “I never pegged you as one for friends.”

You crossed your arms, “we’re friends.”

“We are, but how long were you coming to me for work before you trusted me?”

You shrugged, “it’s different now. I ain’t doin’ this for me. I’m doing it for-“

“I know.” He nodded his head and looked at his clasped hands. “He would ask me about you sometimes.”

“Really?” You tried and failed to keep your voice from sounding eager, you cleared your throat. “What did he-what would be ask?”

“Oh, you know...” he said as he stretched out to lean against the chair. “How long I had known you, where you were from,” he chuckled. “He was trying to be nonchalant but I noticed how much more he frequented visiting me. He would loiter around my caravan half making conversation- until they tried to take me again that is. Luckily Arthur was there and drove them off, but he decided it was best I stay with them until things cooled down.”

You nodded, “I was wondering when you had left, I stopped by a couple times. Almost got shot by the new tenant, that was the last time I went.” You smirked, “shoulda known you were runnin’ around with this group.”

“I may be overstepping my boundaries by saying this, but I think a certain few would agree. You’re more than welcome to stay with our little traveling circus if you see fit. I know it would make him happy.”

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat. “I dunno Josiah...”

He raised himself from his chair and put a hand on your shoulder. “Think about it, I know you’re more of a loner but sometimes we need others.” He looked at you over his shoulder before leaving. “We need love.”

You huffed as you leaned your head against the glass pane, the small cabin felt like it just shrunk ten sizes.

Another week passes and the food you brought was running low. After you packed your satchel with scent cover, bait, and a couple night’s rations you headed to the table where Sadie and Charles were sitting.

“Hello,” Charles greeted you.

“Hey y’all,” you said as you sat down. “I’m goin’ out to do some hunting, Pearson is runnin’ low on meat. Think you can handle yourselves until I get back?”

Sadie laughed, “course we can. How long are you gonna be gone?”

“I ain’t gonna leave ya for too long, two days at most. I want to be sure I get enough I won’t have to leave for another week or so.”

“Want me to come with you?” Charles asked.

“Nah, I got it. You stay here and help Sadie keep watch.” You rose from your seat, “want me to check the mail while I’m out?”

“We sent Pearson to check a couple days ago, you should be fine.” Charles said.

You nodded and stood, as you walked towards the door Sadie called to you, “don’t let the gators get ya!”

You rolled your eyes and waved two fingers back to her as you left through the threshold. You? Eaten by gators? It was almost as insult to assume you were that big of an amateur.

Karen was on guard duty this time, slumped against the outer wall of the cabin, you tipped your hat to her as you rode out.

Arthur clutched the note from Sadie in his hand as he pushed his spurs into his horse. Just before he reached Shady Belle, his whole body was aching and sore. Now he had a clear idea of where his family was and he felt wide awake and ready to go. He hadn’t slept since he got off the boat and he didn’t plan on resting his head until he knew his family was safe. He had gone his separate ways with the others, all following their own leads as to where their rag tag group had gone without them.

He rode upon a crossroad and his heart was being tugged in two different directions- one way was Lakay, his family and friends. The other was the way to your camp, or at least the last place your camp was set. Who knows where you were now? With a huff he headed towards Lakay. First thing he would do when he found the others would be to write you. Everytime his life flashed before his eyes on Guarma, you were what he saw. The thought of you pushed him when everything felt hopeless and even when he tried to push you from his mind, you were still there at the forefront begging him to return home to you. He half expected the boat to sink on the way back from Guarma, or another storm to end him then and there. Arthur never felt like a lucky man, but the second his feet hit solid ground he felt like he had cheated death himself.

He felt himself tense as he entered Lakay, he was certain it was Sadie’s handwriting in the letter but he wasn’t certain he wasn’t walking straight into a trap. He slowed his horse to a slow trot as he surveyed the small village.

Tension melted as he spotted Abigail and Pearson, just outside a run down cabin.

“Arthur! Arthur’s here!” Pearson exclaimed as he walked up.

“Arthur, oh thank god you’re alive!” Abigail said as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “Come on inside,” she said excitedly as she led him in.

He was greeted with the familiar faces of his whole family, but he didn’t quite feel whole just yet.

The sun was setting as you led Ophelia back into Lakay, she was loaded down with skins and meats from birds and gators, you were certain you wouldn’t have to leave for atleast a week and a half with the load you had acquired. As you approached the cabin, the air seemed different. Usually there were no lights on once the sun began to fall to avoid drawing attention, but you could see the golden glow seeping between boards and could hear voices all the way from the middle of the run down little village. That’s when you saw it-the beautiful Arabian hitched to a tree.

“Arthur?” Your whispered, your voice trembling.

Arthur was bombarded with questions and information from the second he entered the threshold. He wasn’t the first, Micah and Javier had already made it back but Dutch and Bill still hadn’t arrived. He told his story, and the others told theirs. Sadie was leaned against the wall, she was hiding something and he couldn’t quite read her face. After hearing from Abigail about John, he joined her against the wall.

“Thank you,” he said quietly. “For takin’ care of everybody. I don’t know how you were able to do it on your own-“

“Oh, I wasn’t on my own.” She said smugly.

He cocked an eyebrow, “who-“

She smirked, “they stepped out to do some hunting yesterday morning, should be back soon.” She pushed herself from the wall and ingrained herself into the crowd.

Arthur huffed and crossed his arms. He took a seat beside the fire and pulled out his journal.

Arthur didn’t realize he had began to drift to sleep until the door slammed open and a sopping wet Dutch walked through the door. He was greeted excitedly, and things were finally starting feel like home again. As Dutch began his speech of hope, Arthur stepped out for a cigarette.

As his name left your lips, the door to the cabin opened and time stood still. His face was tilted downward, one hand bringing a cigarette to his lips. You didn’t need to see his face to know it was him.

“Arthur,” you repeated again, your voice barely above a whisper. You swallowed back the growing lump in your throat as your feet remembered how to run. “Arthur!” You called.

He looked up, the voice he had been aching for calling to him. His cigarette damn near fell out of his mouth. His feet were moving now too.

You were running now and you could feel the tears welling in your eyes but you didn’t care. Your heart beat grew faster and faster the closer you got, he was here, he was home. Every fear had been dissolved, every caution shooed away by the swelling of your heart. You crashed into eachother and his big arms were around your waist again. The train whistle was no more as you grabbed his face and kissed him hard.

He didn’t feel the sting of his lingering sunburn on his cheeks when you grabbed them, all he could feel was your lips against his and it was the only thing he cared about. He could taste the saltiness of tears and couldn’t tell if they were his or yours. The rain was coming down hard now, but the only thing he felt was your lips against his and your hands cradling his cheeks.

Your choked back sob broke the kiss, leaving you both breathless. Your hands clung to the wet fabric of his shirt as you buried your face into his chest. “Arthur, I-I was so afraid- I was never gonna-“

“I know, darlin’ me too.” He kissed the crown of your head and took in your scent, he almost forgot how much it intoxicated him. “I’m back now, I’m here.”

You looked up and got a good look at his face, he was bruised and his skin was bright red, burnt from the harsh sun. “I’m sorry I- I’m sorry I pushed you away, I was so afraid of losing you but...when I got that letter from Sadie saying you were missing I just-“ your breathing hitched again, and this time it was his lips crashing down against yours. You felt so foolish for denying yourself of this- of him. Your lips moved with his now, you could feel the desperation he felt through his cracked chapped lips.

Sadie noticed Arthur’s disappearance and scanned the room, he wasn’t there. She stepped to the window and scanned through the sheets of rain. First she saw Ophelia, then she saw you and Arthur. Her hand came to her chest as she smiled. “Finally,” she said under her breath. She gave them a moment, they surely needed it. But when she turned back a few minutes later and saw the two of you still kissing she rolled her eyes.

Though it felt like the world had stopped around the two of you, you were reminded that the earth was still spinning when you heard Sadie’s voice call to you. “You two better get in before you catch sickness!”

The two of you pulled apart suddenly, and Arthur chuckled. “Guess she’s right, it’s comin’ down pretty hard.”

You nodded, the drops of rain felt icy as they landed on your hot cheeks. Arthur’s hand was around yours now and it felt as natural as walking. With your spare hand, you grabbed Ophelia’s reins.

“Sadie told me she had some help keepin’ everyone together, guess you was the one she was talkin’ about.” Arthur said, his classic crocked smile was wider than usual.

You shrugged, also unable to contain the wide grin on your face. “It weren’t nothin’,” you stopped Ophelia just in front of the small porch and tethered her. Arthur helped you unload your hunting quarry. “You know I cain’t tell Sadie no, and when I got here and saw all those faces,” you looked at him. “I knew I had to stay. I thought to myself, ‘what would Arthur do?’ So I loaded up the wagon, brought some food and clothes, and I been here ever since.”

Arthur stopped and turned back to you, “you been here this whole time? What about Cripps? And your trade route?”

You shrugged, “he can handle himself. I told him I’d be back when everything cleared over. Plus,” your eyes fell to the ground. “I uh, I knew this would be the best place to find you when you came back.”

When you looked back up at him, he had a very strong urge to kiss you again- had his arms not been full he would’ve. He had never seen so much love in the eyes of a woman, not for him. You put everything on hold, stopped what you were doing to save his family, to wait for him. His feet felt frozen as you walked past him into the threshold. I love her so much. The thought was so sudden it shook him to the core. He loved you? He swallowed the lump in his throat, and through the streaked window pane he could see the rejoice of his family as you entered the shack, greeting you with smiling faces and helping hands took the load from your arms. You were smiling too, and he sighed in content. There was no point lying to himself, as he entered the threshold and your eyes fell on him, you had a smile on your lips, just for him. He loved you with his whole heart and he wasn’t afraid of it anymore.

The commotion was wearing down, and Dutch was very aware of the new face among his group. She was pretty, strong, and her hands were wrapped around Arthur’s as they talked in front of the hearth. It didn’t take a genius to see the adoration in his son’s eyes, Hosea had mentioned a woman to him not too long before the trolley job.

“I think Arthur’s finally found someone.” Hosea said as they were sitting under the gazebo. It was a fair day in Shady Belle, not too muggy for Dutch to enjoy the weather.

He shifted in his seat, “really?”

Hosea nodded. “I’ve noticed he’s been...different lately. Leavin’ our more often, distracted, he hadn’t been drinkin’ as much either.” Hosea flipped the page of the newspaper he was reading. “I had my suspicions when he started getting letters, but she came by the other day.”

Dutch sat up in his seat, uneasy. “When?”

Hosea looked at him, that scolding eye falling directly on him. “While you were out riding. She’s the one to thank for those crates of supplies.” He nodded pointedly to the crates beside Pearson’s wagon. His gaze softened. “You should’ve seen him,” Hosea said as his eyes shifted to Arthur, Dutch’s eyes followed. “He was smilin’ the whole time, his whole demeanor was just....different.”

“You think we can trust her?” Dutch asked in a hushed tone.

Hosea returned his gaze to his newspaper and shrugged. “Arthur seems to trust her, shouldn’t we?”

Dutch huffed, Hosea made a good point. Arthur knew better than to lead random strangers back to camp, once again, Hosea comforted the paranoid worries that plagued him so.

“Here’s your coffee,” Sadie said as she handed him the mug, pulling him from his memories. He felt a painful throb in his heart as his last memory of Hosea shifted back to his mind.

He nodded and took the mug from her. “Sadie?”

She stopped and turned back to him. “What is it?”

“Can I ask you something?”

She studied him, Dutch was always so hard to read. She took a seat beside him. “Sure.”

He took a sip from his coffee and his gaze went back to Arthur. “What do you think? About her?”

Sadie’s gaze followed his and she smiled. “I’ve known her for years, she’s like family.”

Dutch nodded, but said nothing. Arthur laughed, and even Dutch couldn’t question the affect you had on him.

“If she decides to stay, she’ll be one of your best.” Sadie said, and with that she was gone.

Dutch stared into his coffee. Sadie’s words were reassuring, but he could still hear the paranoid voice in the back of his mind. Without Hosea, he could feel it growing louder and more persistent every day. 

[sixteenandsixteenhundred]

The Guy Who Saved My Life

Summary: This is an alternate epilogue to The Sun ending I wrote after several days of joking that I could’ve written a better plot (I'm not saying this actually is better it's just a silly little wish fulfilment piece I thought I would share). There are a few things that don’t exactly adhere to the world of 2077 simply because I think the stuff in the original TTRPG and Cyberpunk Red is cooler. This is also a reminder to everyone to go and read or re-read Never Fade Away.

Words: 2.6k

Warnings: Spoilers for several character deaths, as well as events that lead up to The Sun ending.

A/N: Is this a crappy first draft with minimal editing? Did I pressure myself to finish and post it before 2020 ends? Did I spend valuable time writing this when I have three unwritten essays due in soon? The answer to all of these questions is yes.

Also on AO3 here

‘Hello, Night City! Drag your asses out of your sad sack and turn to face the sky!’ The radio chirped as V pulled herself out of bed, greeted by the afternoon sun. She was on autopilot, completely lost to the chaos of the city below until the cold shock of the shower snapped her back to reality, if that’s what you want to call it.

‘But for all you sitting in the gutter, looking up at the smog, here’s someone you ain’t heard in a while - Johnny Silverhand!’

‘Off.’ V barked, but it came out ragged and broken. She coughed. Blood. The radio fell silent.

‘Good afternoon, V. I trust you had a restful sleep.’ Alva’s voice was flat, empty, it scratched at the back of V’s skull and sent tension down into her fists.

‘Not now, Alva.’ A quiet chirp and the AI fell silent. Obedient.

Finally, a moment to herself - she hated it. Hard to be alone when you don’t recognise the bitch in the mirror.

She remembered the stench of loneliness that had bombarded her at Kerry’s mansion. There was only one thing in this damn apartment that didn’t smell just the same. She pulled the first clothes she saw off the floor and managed to dress herself before reaching for the samurai jacket Rogue had given her.

She hadn’t worn it all week, but then again, she hadn’t done much that warranted getting dressed since everything had happened, since everything had gone wrong.

It didn’t make any sense. Johnny had been a construct in her head; he’d never worn the jacket and she’d never been able to smell the guy, but instinct told her it smelt of him - cigarettes and tequila and something she couldn’t even place. She pulled the sleeves down as far as they would reach, hoping to cover the tattoo.

Reality called again, or rather Emmerick did. ‘Ey, boss.’ Hearing a familiar voice helped more than she thought it would; hurt a hell of a lot more too though.

‘Em, shit. Couldn’t ask a favour, could I?’

‘For you? Anything.’

‘Tell him the job’s off the table.’ V waited for a response but wasn’t surprised that she didn’t get one. ‘No renegotiating, not some other time, just call it off.’

‘Sure thing,’ Emmerick replied. ‘Couldn’t come and do the honours yourself?’

‘I got something else I wanna do, besides, you can handle him; don’t be afraid to put some lead in him if he starts anything; fed up of that schmuck.’

‘I’ll keep that in mind.’

‘Call me with anything urgent; I’ll drop by in a day or two. Oh, and call off Del, I won’t be needing that ride.’

‘Will do, boss, and no worries, take your time.’

Her agent flickered off as she hung up. Before heading out she grabbed the pistols, Pride and the Malorian, and donned Johnny’s aviators to hide her bloodshot eyes.

It wasn’t far to the alley behind Misty’s - V’d made sure she stayed in the neighbourhood, even if she didn’t amble about it the way she used to. The kids loitering on the steps gave her a wide berth, staring wide-eyed at NC’s newest legend, snickering behind their hands when she stumbled and slipped on a flyer. She managed to catch herself, but her heart sank as she waited for a snide comment that never came.

Viktor wasn’t shocked to hear the door open or the metal grate give way, but he sure was surprised to see V stood there before him. Neither he nor Misty had heard from her other than a quick call to say that she was alive, and rumour had it she’d only shown her face at The Afterlife, her own damn club, once or twice.

‘What can I do for ya, V?’ Viktor stood from his chair and welcomed her in.

V’s eyes scanned over the room for a moment, eyebrows creasing in confusion.

‘Fuck, Vik… I dunno.’ It hit her that she had no idea why she’d come here. ‘Don’t know why I’m anywhere anymore.’ V perched on the end of Viktor’s desk and closed in on herself; eyes cast downwards, shoulders hunched.

‘Sorry for bothering ya, Vik.’

He stepped forward and put a sturdy hand on V’s shoulder, crouching to make eye contact. She started a little at the touch but didn’t pull away.

‘Don’t worry about it, you’re always welcome here kid.’

‘Thanks.’ The gratitude was hushed and heavy with regret.

Viktor pulled his friend into a hug, and, for a long moment, there was only the muffled drone of the city above them.

Tears began to creep down V’s face, emerging from behind the glasses.

‘What the fuck am I gonna do, Vik?’ V posed a question they both knew he couldn’t answer.

She kept talking just to fill the silence of the clinic. ‘I killed ‘em all Vik. Rogue’d be alive if it weren’t for me.’

Viktor kept his arms tight around her, scared if he let her go she would crumble. ‘Rogue was great; she just had bad luck, nothin’ anyone could have done. Blood isn’t on your hands.’

V’s memories of that night were hazy but one stood out, crystal clear. Rogue’s body, limp and contorted in the bowels of Arasaka tower, Pride still clutched in her hand, finger on the trigger. The thought of it made her feel nauseous.

‘Isn’t it Vik? Whose is it on? What about Jackie and T-Bug? Evelyn Parker? Takemura? Scorpion?’

Her final question was choked out in a whisper. ‘What about Johnny?’

Viktor knew what he could say - Johnny Silverhand died 55 years ago to a bunch of greedy corpos - but he knew that wouldn’t do jack shit with the state she was in right now.

The heavy grate screeched open again. Nerves fried to shit, paranoia scratching at the nape of her neck, V turned, in one swift movement pulling the Malorian on whoever had intruded. She held the pistol in her left hand.

Shit.

Misty froze, raising the cups of coffee she held in each hand. ‘Only me, V.’

V holstered the gun, cursing under her breath as Misty approached, setting down one of the cups beside Viktor.

‘Sorry, shouldn’t’a barged in like that.’

‘Nah Misty, shit, I’m the one who pulled iron on ya.’ V removed the aviators and pulled her hands across her face. Her eyes were bloodshot and bruised, her skin gaunt and lifeless. Calling her a living legend might be a bit of an overstatement.

The buzz of NC set in again. The silence between the three friends was oddly comfortable, considering none of them had a damn clue what to say to each other.

A minute of shuffling and sparse eye contact passed before V put the glasses and a brave face back on.

‘I’m gonna head outta the city for the night.’

‘V...’ Misty wanted to stop her but knew she was pushing her luck.

‘I can’t stand it here; it’s all so loud. I gotta delta.’

‘Shit, can’t pretend to know what’s going through that head of yours. Just take care of yourself out there, kid.’ Viktor downed the last of his coffee before it had a chance to go cold.

‘I’ll drop by again tomorrow, promise.’ V’s voice was laced with guilt, desperate for her friends to stop worrying about her. ‘Managed to get some sleep last night, ya know.’

Misty and Viktor saw a familiar blank look set on V’s face as she gazed passed them, looking for something no one else saw.

‘Hey, that’s great V.’ Misty chirped.

‘Just as I was slippin' outta my head, finally, I-‘ Fuck. What was she doing? What did she think she’d say next?

There are some things you don’t tell anyone. The fact that, just as she lost consciousness, right arm stretched out across the empty bed, she could've sworn she’d felt cool, smooth chrome resting in her hand? That was top of the list.

Scrambling, tripping over her own words, V was quick to change the subject

‘You guys ain’t gotta word about me.’ She gave a single, hollow laugh. ‘Hell, I stormed Arasaka and made it out alive, or so I’ve been told - I’m untouchable.’

Viktor and Misty mustered their goodbyes. They wanted to reach out, ask if she wouldn’t stay in the city for tonight, they could all grab a pizza and talk crap until the sun came up again. But V had said it best herself; she was untouchable.

Jackie’s Arch was waiting for her back up in the alley. Sure, it wasn’t the safest place, but V preferred to keep it locked up back here. Besides, I wasn’t like keeping something in a garage has ever deterred a thief, she knew that from personal experience. She dragged the bike out onto the street and it revved to life, radio crackling over the noise of the engine.

‘-Significant roadblocks up in Northside. NCPD are aiming to clear the roads quickly but that’s about all the information we have. For now, we’d advise against any unnecessary travel through the district and we’ll keep you up to date with any breaking information.’ The announcer’s voice fizzled out and a song took its place. V sat for a moment, calculating, before speeding off ‘round a corner, cursing under her breath.

Autopilot set in again, and V was barely sure of where she was until a red light flashed up ahead of her. She considered just running it, but at the last moment, the bike came to a screeching halt.

Looking around, V recognised a few buildings, washed out and faded. She hated this part of town – never any good jobs and always tinged by some sad shadow of the past.

The lights turned orange but V’s eyes were instead cast down an alleyway, and she couldn’t resist the pull that drew her in.

Resting the Arch against a wall, V’s slow steps took her deeper into the shadows. The buildings here were old, concrete beginning to crumble, plants sprouting through the cracks – it was odd to see anything in this state. Sure, it wasn’t V’s favourite place to be but it was hardly bad real estate, and wild plants growing in the middle of NC? Not a typical sight.

Enchanted by the story this place wanted to tell her, V pushed on until she met the end of the alley. Looking up at the building before her, a memory stung in her chest. She’d never been here before.

There were no signs left to indicate what this place might’ve been, but plants burst from every escape they could find, moving gently in the wind to beckon V inside.

Then it hit her. She half expected that blue, glitching static, ‘Relic malfunction detected’ flashing across her vision, but there was only silence.

It was too quiet for Night City, even the noise and chaos seemed to have abandoned this place.

The doorway had collapsed in on itself a long time ago, a tree now twisting its way around the rubble, barring V from entering. She clambered up a rusted, crumbling fire escape, working on a muscle memory that wasn’t hers until she was two floors up, facing a boarded window.

It didn’t take V much effort to pry the brittle wood away from the building, which was just as well considering she had little left.

Through the window, V stood in a small entrance hall, remnants of a staircase falling away behind her. Putting a hand against the door before her, every ounce of strength evaporated from V’s body. She took a deep breath, a moment to calm herself down. In a weird twist of fate, she’d’ve given the world to see his flickering blue form right now.

Putting her weight against the door, V pushed into a larger room. Plants had escaped from their ornamental pots and weaved across the floor, a few even daring to entangle themselves in the gaudy chandeliers that hung from the high ceiling. Beneath the plants and long-settled dust, booths with plush, syn-leather seats were scattered with bottles and glasses, a few cheap pistols even scattered about.

Whoever abandoned this place was quick to delta. Probably had no idea they wouldn’t be coming back.

In the centre of the room sat a grand bar with a pale marble countertop. V pulled herself up to sit atop in, tucking her legs under her as she looked down onto the lower counter. It didn’t take her long to find what she was looking for.

A skewered receipt confirmed what she already knew:

        ATLANTIS

        3:16AM, MARCH 8TH 2024

The order was cheap vodka shots and a slew of cocktails she’d never even heard of, but that didn’t matter.

Dismounting to rain the cabinets below, V pulled out a bottle, the label long since faded and worn away. V tossed the lid onto the floor and took a long swig. Even then she couldn’t put a finger on the strange liquid, but it burned her throat and that was good enough.

V set the bottle down, trading it for a rusted corkscrew that had been abandoned half a century ago.

‘If these walls could talk…’ With that she deltaed, jumping down from the fire escape and pacing back over to the bike.

Somewhere along the way, the city gave out to dusty open fields, old Petrochem plants dotting the barren landscape. V pulled the bike off to the side of the road and began wading through the scrap and rubble to a familiar slab of concrete.

V wondered if anyone had been here since their visit; the metal sheet lay undisturbed bearing her messy inscription:

        JS 2023

She flipped the sheet over – there was less graffiti on this side – pulled out the corkscrew, and got to work.

The sun had long since set by the time V was finished. She carved a thin channel and stuck the cool metal into the dirt at the edge of the concrete. After propping it up with a few worn-out tyres, she took a step back to admire the new inscription. Her penmanship, if you could even call it that, was shoddy, but she couldn’t care less if anyone else could read it.

Across the bottom were four names; T-BUG, SCORPION, EVELYN PARKER, GORO TAKEMURA, each with 2077 scratched below them. Above them were three more. On the left of the sheet;

        RACHEL ‘ROGUE’ AMENDIARES

                  2077

        STILL THE BEST

The right-hand side read;

        JAQUITO ‘JACKIES’ WELLES  

                  2077

        “THE ONE THING WE CAN’T DO IS BE AFRAID OF OTHERS”

She’d left the central space blank until last, as if leaving it unwritten made it any less true. But eventually, she’d managed it, tears falling onto the metal as the night’s chill crept into her bones;

        JOHNNY SILVERHAND

                  2023/2077

        THE GUY WHO SAVED MY LIFE

Finally, V dug a small hole in front of her plaque, dirt embedding itself beneath her nails. She drew Pride and placed it in the earth before her. The Malorian sat heavy in her hand, and as much as she willed her hand to set it down beside Rogue’s pistol, every inch of her body resisted. The gun found its way back to the holster at her hip.

After burying Pride, V laid back on the concrete, looking up at the few stars that were visible once you left the city. She pulled a cigarette from a pack in one of the jacket's pockets – she certainly didn’t put them there – and lit it.

Closing her eyes, V tried not to think about the body below her. She pulled the jacket tight around her against the chill of the Badlands, alone.

[crossbows-and-moonshine]

Let The Flames Begin (Chapter 4)

Let me know what you guys think of this so far. I currently have 10 chapters written, this story is just coming to me right now. If there's anything you’d like to see happen, let me know. If it fits the story I might use it as inspiration. I always love it when people suggest things to help me along.

I’m posting this as I go, so it should be once a day as long as I stay ahead of my writing. All my other Daryl fics (I think I have like 6 others?) I won’t post until I’ve completed them. So shout out to my awesome beta @rhyatt-deauxtreve for currently beta reading one of them for me so I can get it finished.

Also, I’m currently dying of food poisoning.

Pray for me :’)

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The Jackpot, that's what this place was. It wasn't just a roof over their heads, it was the fucking jackpot and Daryl couldn't believe their luck. After they checked the place for threats, Merle had rummaged through the cupboards and found it stocked full of food and even bottles of water. There was enough there to last them at least a week and Daryl felt the relief flood his body at the idea of just resting for a damn minute. Daryl had asked his brother if he had any ideas about how to reinforce the place. It was a rickety old wooden cabin, the wind would make it fall over if it picked up. He was concerned a hoard of the dead would come along and take the place with them. They needed to do something if they planned on staying here a little while. Merle had promptly disappeared saying he had an idea.

Daryl plonked down on the worn armchair, his eyes casting over to Charlene as she stood in the kitchen, opening a can of peaches she had found with the can opener Merle had found in the kitchen drawer. Once she got it open, she slurped some of the syrup greedily and let out a soft moan at the sweet taste. Daryl's pants tightened and he looked away, the tips of his ears turning pink. He felt like such a fucking creeper, but damn if that noise wasn’t the sweetest thing he’d ever heard. He was broke out of his thoughts when Merle walked back in. He tossed a bundle of barbed wire on the small coffee table in front of Daryl and Daryl quirked a brow at his brother.

“Found this in the little shed out back. Could make a fence, maybe string some cans up on it so we hear if there's any visitors,” he explained as he flopped onto the couch ungracefully.

Charlene padded over then glancing at Merle before her eyes landed on Daryl. She shot him a sweet smile that made his throat constrict. Kill me now.

She sucked the juice off her fingers as she sat down and Daryl had to fight the urge to groan. Should I shoot myself or stab myself? Bullet would prolly be quicker.

“Barbed wire? They don't feel pain though do they?” she asked softly, nibbling her lower lip that was still glistening from the syrup. Maybe I could just set myself on fire...

“Nah they don’t, but it’ll tangle ‘em enough for us to go out and deal with ‘em. ‘Sides, the cans, we’ll hear if there's a hoard, we’ll know to get the fuck outta dodge,” Merle said seriously for once. The girl's eyebrows raised right off her fucking head at his brother's plan, at how good it sounded, well thought out. He knew what she was thinking, she didn't expect his brother to be able to come up with something like that. His brother was only a little high right now, just weed most likely. Nothing hard it seemed and that's when he noticed his brother was the best version of himself. When he was on the hard stuff, he would either be a fucking sexual deviant or just plain aggressive. But this right now he could work with. His brother was chilled out but his brain worked, that was all Daryl could ask for right now.

Merle and Daryl went outside to make their makeshift fence. Winding the barbed wire around the trees and making a parameter that the dead wouldn't be able to get through easily. They attached some empty cans they found in a trash bag and Daryl had to admit, his brother's plan was pretty good. It wouldn't stop them from getting in when it came down to it, but it would slow them down and give them enough warning for them to get out safely. When they were done, Daryl looked as Merle checked it over, making sure it was done right. His brother looked deep in thought and that was a rare thing, Daryl was worried about what he was thinking about. He didn't have to wait long before he looked over and spoke to him.

“I wanna ask ya somethin’ and I don't want ya to bullshit me here,” Merle said firmly, glaring at Daryl. Daryl blinked warily at him, wondering where the fuck this was going, he had a feeling he wouldn't like it, it was weird seeing his brother so serious.

“Alright,” Daryl replied hesitantly. Merle scratched the scruff on his chin, straightening himself out, looking like he was preparing himself to say something whilst his younger brother watched on carefully.

“Those marks...she deserve it?” Merle asked roughly, making Daryl's jaw clench in anger, like his brother was trying to justify the actions he didn't even understand himself and find a way out of this.

“For fuck sake Merle!” Daryl growled, narrowing his eyes at him.

“I’m serious here! Did she do somethin’? Hit me? Provoke me?” Merle asked him, sounding almost desperate, it was pathetic.

“It ain't matter what she did or didn't do! She's a tiny little thing Merle, look at ya. Fuckin’ built like a house and hopped up on whatever the fuck that was. Ya damn near snapped her neck!” Daryl yelled, he felt his anger deep into his bones. Merle shook his head with a growl as he started to pace and Daryl could see him unravelling. Merle wasn't exactly used to feeling guilt or remorse and it seemed to be eating at him.

“It weren't me alright?!” Merle shouted as he stopped pacing, pinning his brother with his gaze.

“I know it wasn't. But ya still hurt her, scared her half to death. Ya can't do this shit no more Merle! It ain't fair to any of us. Whatever that was, ya better not use it again, because if ya lay a damn hand on her again, I won't be fuckin’ responsible for what I do to ya,” Daryl threatened, his eyes turning cold as Merle just blinked at him.

They both had issues from their past and watching their father beat their mother mercilessly, that was something neither of them would forget. It was the very reason why they wouldn't ever lay a hand on a woman that way. They despised woman beaters, and now Merle was riding that thin line and he felt like his sanity was slipping away from him. When he was high, sometimes, depending on what he took, he changed into a different person completely. One without the same morals he usually had, one who seemed to have no control of that Dixon temper that had plagued him his whole life.

They didn't need words, Daryl could see it, the remorse, how it was affecting his brother. He hoped it had woken him the fuck up enough not to use whatever it was that got him that way again. He was glad his brother regretted it, showing him he hadn't lost his compassion completely, that his brother was still in there somewhere. They just watched each other for a moment, Daryl's anger ebbing away as Merle lowered his eyes. It reminded him of when they were younger, very young when their mother was still alive and she would tell him off for something he had done. He felt a pang in his chest and he pushed it down, way down into the deepest darkest parts of him, never to emerge again. He stalked off back into the cabin, needing a break, needing to see the girl and make sure she was alright. He turned back when he got to the door, seeing Merle opting to stay outside, no doubt to think about shit and clear his head.

He heaved a sigh as he walked through the door. Charlene was sat at the dining table, all the cans of food in front of her as she organised them. Seeing them on the table like that, it made him feel good seeing just how much shit they had. If they rationed it right, it could last for a little bit. He could also hunt around the area, see what he could catch. Maybe they could stay here for a while and just rest up. He knew soon enough food would run out, they would once again be on their way. He wanted to enjoy some semblance of normal before that happened. As normal as he could get stuck with his drug-addicted brother and a girl he barely knew.

“The fuck ya doin’?” he asked with a quirked brow as he sat in the chair opposite her. She gave a soft snort as she glanced to him then back to the can in her hand.

“I got bored, I decided to see what we’ve got. There's a lot. I also found some clothes. There's some shirts I’m gonna take. They look like a teenagers so they’d fit me better. The rest should fit you and Merle. Although you’d probably wanna rip the sleeves off,” she smirked wryly at him, making him lower his head feeling bashful all of a sudden as he scoffed. She had a pile of clothes on the chair next to her. Some jeans and plaid shirts.

“Probably,” he huffed, his lips tugging into a half smile.

“Why do you do that? Ripping the sleeves off?” she asked curiously, resting her chin on her hand like she was so fucking interested in the answer. He could feel the tips of his ears turning pink having her watch him so intently like that as he chewed his thumb.

“Just easier to move about with the bow I guess,” he shrugged.

“I guess that makes sense. You’ve got those broad ass shoulders and huge arms. I bet it's uncomfortable with sleeves,” she said breezily, like it was no big deal what she said.

All Daryl could do was blink at her for a minute as she went back to organising the cans. Shit, was that a compliment? He was bewildered and he glanced down to his shoulders and arms. He felt a strange feeling in his chest swell. The same kind of feeling he would get when he bagged a big buck on a hunt. Pride? Is that was it was? He didn't know but he fucking liked it. He didn't exactly know why she was organising the cans, but he didn't say a word. She was busy, and that meant she wasn't looking at him. That, in turn, meant he could look at her without her realising and calling him out on being a fucking creep.

Her long brown hair was up in a messy bun, but she still somehow looked good. Even with her mud-stained cheeks. She looked better now she had eaten and drank something, no doubt the feeling of safety from the cabin helped too. She looked less tense.

“Ya’ll never guess what I found outside!” Merle hooted as he burst in the front door, a shit eating grin on his face. Daryl and Charlene turned their eyes to him but made no move to talk.

“Well shit, don’t all ask at once,” Merle huffed a laugh, making Charlene snort a little as she toyed with the can in her hand. Daryl just looked at his brother expectantly.

“They got some sorta water system rigged up out back. Works on rainwater,” Merle grinned. The girl’s eyes lit up and Daryl couldn't tear his eyes away from her, watching a beautiful smile grace her face.

“There's running water?!” she asked looking excited.

“I’m gonna guess there is,” Merle smirked, looking so proud of himself it was ridiculous. Anyone would think he rigged the system up himself.

“Yes! I’m gonna take a shower. I presume you guys won't mind me taking first dibs,” she said casually as she grabbed one of the smaller shirts off the pile.

“The fuck does that mean?” Daryl scoffed, looking so fucking offended it made Merle bark a laugh. She stilled, eyes wide as she looked to Daryl and his offended face.

“Oh...I...Uh...I just meant that...you two don't look the type...to be concerned with showering...is all,” she stammered, looking awkward. Daryl frowned, was she saying he was dirty? She had just fucking complimented him damn near a minute ago and now she was insulting him? He didn't understand what was going on.

“She ain't wrong baby brother,” Merle laughed, walking past him and smacking him on the back brotherly, making him tense and flinch for a second.

Charlene was clutching the clean shirt to her chest, looking awkward as a light blush graced her cheeks, Daryl squinting at her.

“I didn't mean...I didn't mean it in a bad way. You're all...manly and stuff, ya know? And you guys are out there, you're used to it...the mud,” she rambled nervously, her hands fisting the material of the shirt.

“We are manly,” Merle smirked, slurping on a bottle of water.

“I didn't say you were manly, I was talking about Daryl,” she scoffed, making Merle choke on his mouthful of water. Daryl bit his lower lip and ducked his head so he didn't laugh at his brother's reaction. He still had no idea what was going on. Was she insulting him or not? Now she was saying he was manly, he didn't know which way was up right now. But watching her squirm was a little amusing.

“I’m just saying, I’m not used to this. I’m a girl and I've never been in the woods before and I-” she started rambling again and Daryl rolled his eyes.

“Just go,” he snorted giving her the out she so desperately fucking needed. She glanced at him once more before scurrying off and Daryl shook his head and huffed a laugh.

Merle flopped into a chair at the dining table with a scowl.

“I’m manly,” he huffed, sounding like a petulant child as he glared at his water bottle.

“Uh huh...whatever ya say,” Daryl smirked, grabbing a can and opening it with his knife, shovelling the canned fruit in his mouth.

“We gonna go huntin’ tomorrow? Could see what's out there, hopefully make the food last a while,” Merle asked, glancing to him. Daryl swallowed and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Might as well. Seems good here, be good if we could stretch it out a little,” he shrugged, making his brother nod, the pair of them thinking about it. Even Merle had to admit this little set up was nice. Daryl really hoped they’d bag a deer soon. They could prep the meat and ration it, make it last a while between them all. He wondered how she would react, having him catch something big like that, something to fill her belly with for a while. He felt a twinge in his stomach and tried to ignore it, grabbing more fruit and pushing it in his mouth to distract him. The girl was making him feel all kinds of shit and he wasn't really sure what to think about it. So he opted not to think about it at all. Ignorance is bliss and all that shit.

Taglist; @risingphoenix761 @daryldixonandfrogs @arlaina28 @divadinag @keeperofwonderlandus @jodiereedus22 @easnuppa @fand0m-fiend

[sporadic-writer]

Like Nobody’s Watching

Sebastian Stan x Reader

Warnings: swearing that’s mainly it

Summary: in a city of millions, someone is always watching you be yourself (that sounds creepy, sorry I can’t think of a better phrasing)

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

It's classic NYC gridlock. Luckily, it was Thursday evening so it wasn't horrible. Plus, you and your friend driving have some of your favorite songs BLASTING with the windows down so it wasn’t too bad. It was one of the first pleasantly warm nights of the year and of course you had the windows and sunroof open. In New York, a million people pass by and see a million things a day, but pay no mind. It’s the perfect place to act like nobody is watching because in the end no one is really watching. Besides, no one pays much mind to two girls singing screaming along to the AUX. 

The traffic wasn’t horrible. It was very slow moving, but luckily wasn’t too long. Some passed by and were entertained, or sang a long a little bit. Plus, your turn was a few blocks away and seemed to be where the slow down stops. Wanting to break the bored feeling growing in your mind, you decided to unbuckle and stand up out the sunroof. The song continued on with the traffic and you continued to throw your arms out and feel the breeze. It was a perfect night and you looked around at the beautiful city around you.

The song got quiet as it changed and you looked down to your friend in the driver’s seat. “Ah to be a twenty-something in the Big Apple. It’s perfect.” The next song began and your friend cranked it. She looked up to you and you smirked. “Sing it bitch! AM I MORE THAN YOU BARGAINED FOR YET? I’VE BEEN DYING TO TELL YOU ANYTHING YOU WANNA HEAR! CAUSE THAT’S JUST WHO I AM THIS WEEK!” Some people crossing the street laughed at the both of you.

"Y/N some old couple crossing the street didn’t appreciate our show very much. They glared and shook their heads hahah!” She continued to bop along while you smiled and leaned on the roof of the car. A breeze went by again and you smiled at the warm weather.

“Screw em! If they can’t enjoy a free concert that’s on them. Now let’s fucking go, the next chorus is coming. Drop a heart, break a name. We’re always sleeping in, sleeping for the wrong team! WE’RE GOIN’ DOWN, DOWN IN AN EARLIER ROUND. AND SUGAR WE’RE GOING DOWN SWINGING!” You stopped and let her take the rest of it. At the street corner you heard some girls singing as well, just as loud. When you turned to the area of them, smiling, they danced a little and you went along with them. After they kept walking you felt a tap on your leg.

As you looked down, Y/F/N, looked up at you and turned the music down a little. “They aren’t the only ones amused by our antics. That cute guy behind them in the blue hoodie as been watching and laughing since we started.” She pointed back at that direction and you smirked as your gaze followed. Upon realizing who she meant, you froze. 

As you dropped into your seat she looked at you as if you were nuts. “Do you know who that guy is? That is Sebastian Stan. Oh God how could I not notice one of my favorite actors watching me make an ass out of myself. Fate is cruel.”

“Oh come on. He seems cool.” She turned to him and waved. She waved as if it was the most casual thing in the world. And he waved back! “See he wouldn’t wave if he knew you were a freak.”

“I’m gonna ignore how you said ‘knew’ and not ‘thought’ in regards to me being a freak. Still oh dear Lord why. Stop laughing I’m humiliated!” Soon The Anthem by Good Charlotte began and the volume was back up. Both of you sang along again and next thing you knew the car moved closer to your street. 

“It’s not like we were actually screaming. We are just being loud and a tad obnoxious. So a normal Thursday night for us. Seriously relax.” You looked back into the crowd of people walking on the streets. Pretty sure you saw him up ahead, you long forgotten, and you calmed a bit. As the music played the car drove in front of your place.

Walking in, you plopped on the couch and opened your finsta. Then you typed up a post. “Ignore the smiles in this pic. Im ded. Sorry to @(his insta name idk off the top of my head) for witnessing that little concert of me and @friend in the streets of New York. Refunds for the show and therapy can be provided.” Laughing a little you hit post.

“Me my ass. That show was all you. Cute pic though! But come on Y/N he didn’t care. He’s a celeb he has probs seen much weirder. The fact that we even saw someone famous in the first place is cool alone.” You nodded in agreement. Wanting to forget it, you grabbed some nerds turned on Sunny in Philadelphia.

After about 3 episodes in, Y/F/N went to pee so you paused the show and grabbed your phone. What you saw seemed too unbelievable. You called out her name.

“What now?” You shoved your phone in her hands. “What am I looking at? All I see are you instagram notifications.”

“Bitch look closer!” You pointed to the DM notification. “HE messaged me! I’m done.”

“Are you serious? Well let’s open this bad boy. Don’t fight it. Stop! Ok ok. It says, agh fine here take it.” You snatched your phone back and read the message.

Him: No need to apologize. I quite liked it actually. Not everyday you see someone being free like that these days.

You just sat there, soaking everything in. “Why aren’t you replying! Don’t be rude and leave him on read.” You rolled your eyes and typed something up.

You: well to be fair i didnt think anyone was actually watching... my real self isnt quite THAT dorky.. im still sorry you witnessed it

“Happy? I replied.” Almost instantly your phone lit up in his reply. “Damn boy.”

Him: I wouldn’t say dorky. More like cute. Although it was clear you thought no one was genuinely watching lol

“Holy shit. He’s flirting. I repeat he is flirting with ME! At least I think he is.. Is this flirting? This has to be a prank.” You tossed your phone to your friend. Sunny long forgotten on the TV. “Wait what are you saying? Don’t reply yet!”

“Relax. I made it sound like you. Well you but with some balls.” The phone got tossed and you caught it smoothly.

“How did he get in my DMs anyway? My finsta isn’t public. Oh wait never mind he found my real one some how. Oof what is going on right now?”

You: i find it hard to believe an attractive celeb is flirting with me lol how do ik its really you? this seems too good to be true

Him: Doesn’t seem like I’m the only one flirting here. But to be fair this is my personal account. And it’s not everyday I DM a girl I see singing Fall Out Boy out of a car sunroof downtown NYC. How about we meet up Friday evening? Let me prove it’s me.

“Oh my goodness. Y/N got a date with a celebrity! I’m jealous.” You got another message.

Him: Too forward? Or do I just sound creepy?

You: no not at all. and sure why the hell not!

You: wait that may sound rude! I would love to meet up haha this way i can ensure this isnt a prank or learn not to trust social media if it is

Him: You have little trust in the world darling! But awesome, meet me at 7 at the corner you put on your lovely show. Near the Roselight Cafe and Howard’s Personal Fitness. 

You: ha so thats how you stay in such good shape! But alright that works for me

Him: No no that is all me. But you’re witty, I like that. See you then ;)

“Holy shit you have a date with a movie star.” You both sat with wide eyes in slight shock. 

You let out an ironic chuckle. “I have a date with a movie star.” You looked to her and laughed in disbelief some more. “All because I acted like a moron out of your car sunroof.”

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

Hope you enjoyed! Like, reblog, and comment my dudes!

[bloodvvit]

[Wanted to write a little ‘slice of life’ look into how Kai was raised once the Boss took him on, as he was mostly looked after by a higher ranking kyodai named Izo. Kai idolizes the boss, but also takes a shine to Izo, seeing him as kind of a older brother/mentor figure.]

Kai’s long eyelashes fluttered against the high angle of his cheekbone as he roused, having not realized he’d dozed off while lounging at the foot of Izo’s mattress. Curled up with his knees to his chest and his skinny arms tangled around a pillow, the fifteen year old squinted against the light unhappily. With a slow stretch in place, he pushed himself to a sitting position and got smacked in the face with a discarded shirt.

“You’re still getting dressed?” the youth accused in an irritated tone. Huffing softly, the young yakuza heir jerked the colorful fabric from around his skull. Rather than throw it back at the preening, indecisive gangster pacing before his closet mirror, Kai expertly flapped the article of clothing out by the shoulder seams and carefully laid it down atop the length of the bed to join the rest of the kyodai’s wardrobe.

“We’re never going leave if you’re taking this long… Why does it matter, anyway? Is it a big meeting between the Bosses?” he asked, sounding miles more interested, if that was the case- rather than watch the man mull over more suits.

Izo held one shirt, then another over his chest as he inspected his reflection in his newly bought and installed full length mirror. Both looked equally good on his skinny frame. That was the one good thing about being built like a tall lamp post — it was easy finding clothing. Nearly anything he bought looked good when it was hanging off his bony shoulders.

“Nah, go back to sleep. I’ve got a hot date tonight,” Izo said as he turned sideways and tried yet another shirt. “Well, not really. I got a meet and greet with some of the guys at a hostess club. I might as well try not to look too shabby.”

The juvenile yakuza frowned even more at this revelation. And here, he’d been hoping for a fun and exciting evening out, not being abandoned at headquarters, when he could have been spending more time leaning how their business worked.

“And you’re wasting time on an outfit? You usually bring me along…” Kai frowned and narrowed his eyes, following the vivid lines of elaborate inkwork decorating Izo’s back, shoulders, and arms in a curious fashion. He’d seen them before, it wasn’t like his partner didn’t leap at the chance to show them off.

“Hey, aniki… Your tattoos. The last time I asked, you said they have certain meanings. Can you tell me more about them now?” he asked in a hopeful, but careful tone of voice. “We’ve been partners for the past three years, almost.”

Heh. Precocious boy slinging emotional words like ‘partners’ around. His devotion to hustling was adorable. Izo knew better, but the sweet way the brat went about saying it was like drinking down warm honey. It was a pleasant kind of warmth. 

“The outfit’s like a storefront window, it’s for convincing,” Izo said as he looked over his shoulder at Chisaki’s ward. He wasn’t looking so sleepy now, and his intense stare made Izo lift an arm to check out the black lines snaking about his rib cage. The ink work wasn’t done yet, just a series of outlines scattered about his shoulders and back. The goal was to eventually get a whole shirt done, but until that happened, Izo was content to only brave the parlors sporadically  It depended when his mood and tolerance for pain was highest.

“They mean a buncha stuff,” Izo hedged, “Sorta slogans like ‘I’m good at this sorta shit’, ‘I believe in that’. Some of it is because ‘a guy I respect has something like it’. Water’s obvious, you already know that one.” After a pause, Izo draped his shirt over the back of his chair. “They’re pretty nice, right?”

“I didn’t think there’d be so many… flowers,” Kai pointed out, unable to mask the wrinkling of his upturned nose at the thought. Eyelids lowering to half-mast, he quite visibly began mulling something over in his mind.

“I was wondering if the Boss was thinking I might have earned the right to get one yet. You think maybe that might happen sooner or later?”

Izo  twisted to look incredulously at the boy on his bed. “What’s wrong with flowers? The’re perfectly manly. Ain’t like they’re roses or nothing. They’re not on my back because they’re romantic.” 

They were there proclaiming his sense of duty, his loyalty and clear mind. They spoke of death and single-minded purpose. His skin was there for important stories and words. He’d sooner cut himself than get something like his girl’s name.

“They’re there for the things I don’t wanna say out loud. Anyone that knows about what ink means will know what they’re sayin’. As for you gettin’ yours…”

 Izo eyed Kai critically. Was he actually serious? He was already that enthusiastic about being a made man? Izo chuckled, “You’re a bit big for your britches already. Nah, it’ll be later. Boss don’t have much truck on taking kiddies on. You’ve got a few more years to go.”

“I didn’t mean anything by it, I just- The last meeting you took me to was the first time I’d even seen the Boss’ ink before and those were… you know, dragons,” Kai explained matter-of-factly. The last thing he wanted was Izo thinking he didn’t understand or respect the meaning behind the imagery.

The teen folded his lean arms beneath his chin, both sharp elbows jutting over the edge at the foot of the mattress. “I was just thinking if I’m gonna stay on, then I should start thinking about it now. Or learning what that stuff all means, like you. I’m not stupid, you know… Wasn’t like I wanted to get something just to flash it at the nearest person on the street.”

Kai rested his chin on his crossed arms and sighed loudly. “Even if the Boss thought I was ready, I guess I just want know what he’d pick. It wouldn’t mean the same thing if it were up to me, right…? That’d be no different than if any civvie waltzed into a parlor and got something done for bragging rights- they don’t earn that like we do,” Kai reflected, often failing to censor his own thoughts due to his familiarity with the gangster he worked with, or simply due to his age.

Izo turned around, folding his arms over his chest as he looked Kai over. Eyes still too big for his head, despite the roundness of his cheeks. Skinny, gawky limbs that were only going to get even gawkier once he started growing — which hadn’t happened yet (and likely wouldn’t any time soon, if he didn’t start eating more.) Izo hadn’t been much older when he’d started getting seriously in over his head, doing significantly more involved things than running messages. That’d been his own damn fault, though. He’d had too big a mouth, had been too smart for his own good and run in ahead right into things he should have steered clear of, if he’d only known better.

Kai had a good little schtick going. He liked to talk big, even going so far as to act like he was already willing to go whole hog into the sorta life Izo was leading. It was a pretty good life, Izo thought, it had its perks, he got pocket money. But talking big and going so far as to get an ill-advised tattoo while sober, well… those were two entirely different things.

Izo crossed his arms over his chest as he hunched over the bed, brows drawing together. “The boss doesn’t pick it. You do. Like I said, they tell a story and it’s the kinda stuff you wanna say but don’t have real good words for it, because saying it would be lame. Get it?” 

Izo turned to the side and twisted, pulling his arms up to show a spot on his rib cage where the outline of a crane was placed. It had yet to be colored in. 

“See this? Got this because of a guy I knew — real swell guy. He’s old now, so he’s sick and dying. Helped me out of  some tight spots and I owe him.  He always had a thing for those weird-ass birds, so I’m getting this put on there as a thank you. Hopefully it’ll get done and I can show it to him before he kicks the bucket.”

“It’s up to you what you wanna say. Most guys just stick with stuff like, ‘I’m strong and I can tear people’s heads off with my damn teeth like a pregnant bear.’ The boss’s dragon means he’s like the emperor. Getting the ink means you’re a made man, but you don’t wanna get a mark someone picks for you either because it makes you theirs. You pick it because it’s what you wanna say. Got it?” Izo hesitated, then added, “There’s some that do that — let someone put their mark on them. I hear some families are into that too, like branding farm animals. If anyone says they wanna do that with you, you tell ‘em no, kick ‘em real good and come and tell me.”  

Kai was far too young for those sorts of relationships and if anyone offered, that meant they were real creeps. Izo would cut bits off them in private somewhere.

The kid pushed his hands against the bed to get a better look, glancing from the silhouette of the bird coming to life on Izo’s darker skin, then back to the elder man’s face as he spoke. Kai had assumed the messages intended to be expressed through the tattoos were qualities others had to see and ‘confirm’ before making them yakuza language fact. To everyone else, he was just like any other middle school student in Tokyo. Now that he was officially partnered with a made man like his 'brother’, he felt… important. Not the way the Boss was important, but needed- Useful, like a part of the machine that was efficiently performing it’s role. In a strange way, Kai felt getting inked might confirm that- solidify his place within their ranks and as the heir to the Boss’ legacy.

“Yeah. I understand now,” he answered confidently, nodding once in affirmation. His gaze followed the swooping 'brushstroke’ of the bird’s neck as it melded to it’s back and folded wings curiously, frowning in silence as one of the notches of Izo’s ribs expanded with his breathing. “Does it hurt a lot? Especially places like these?” he asked, pointing at the thin layer of skin and muscle barely masking the bony landmark.

Izo shrugged, always a bit surprised how into medical stuff the kid was. He didn’t recall ever being like that at the same age. “Well, it always hurts when there’s not a lotta meat. I don’t have much all over, though. It’s not too bad.” 

Actually, it hurt like a bitch and Izo had let everyone up and down the street know he was getting his ink done just by all his screaming. But Kai’s wide-eyed look was laying it on a bit thick, wasn’t he? Izo had to give him props for consistency, though. The teen never let up with his schtick and he had to admit in his crusty, old-young heart that there were times he was quite warmed by it. Izo reached out to press down hard on Kai’s head, sending him tumbling. When he was down, Izo dug his knuckles into the teenager’s scalp for good measure. Straightening, he grunted, “What’s this about you wanting ink anyway? Why all a sudden?”

“Hey! Come on- Stop,” the kid half-laughed, half-ordered, trying to dodge the elder man’s hands until he’d lost his balance and tumbled from the bed. He rolled from the foot of the mattress and landed in a soft pile of discarded suits Izo had thrown, unceremoniously, to the floor- vibrantly dyed and patterned silks and sharkskin cushioning Kai’s coltish knees as he fended off more brotherly harassment. The question made him pause and look back up the rail-thin length of Izo’s slouching frame, blinking once as he stared back at that narrow-eyed, searching gaze reading his own expression and body language.

“Like I said. It’s been three years. I just thought, maybe… then we’d be blood brothers. You know, officially. That’s all,” he said, brushing Izo off and leaning back against the foot of the bed. He straightened his hair back out with a few brisk tugs of his thin fingers, tilting his chin up as though challenging the man to say otherwise.

Izo tsks, tongue pressed against the back of his teeth as his movements still and he stares down at Kai staring up at him with that far too serious glare.

The brat. How was he going to say no to a request like that? 

“Ah, you really know what to say, eh? Thought a lot about it, did you?” Scripted or not, he was good. Izo was melting a little despite himself.  He grabbed Kai’s head, looping an arm around his neck and squeezing as he roughly ground his knuckles in with a renewed vengeance. “Think you’re such a big man, EH?”

When he eventually released the boy, letting him drop to the hard floor like he was dropping a sack of rice. He turned back toward the mirror and dragged his fingers through his hair to work out some of the new tangles. Izo made a face and gave up on wearing it down. Finding a tie, he gripped it between his teeth and pulled his hair back away from his face to reveal sharp features that looked too narrow, too fox-like for even his own tastes. 

“Alright, since you say it so nicely, kid,” he muttered around the tie, “You can get what you want. But if it’s stupid looking, it’s on you. Remember that.”