#at least this way he had some excitement out of it
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Hi! How are you? First of all, I love your way of writing, it's amazing! I wish I had that magic that you have. UwU <3
Can I ask you to write a Bi-Han x Chubby!Afab!Reader?
Where the reader is Liu Kang's apprentice, but since he does not have time to train her, he takes her to Bi-Han and he mocks her for not seeming strong, but when they face each other, things change and for the first time Bi-Han meets He is attracted to her and wants her for himself. But the reader feels insecure, thinking that this was some kind of mockery. There can be a lot of fluff and a possessive Bi-Han. Please :3
Thick Thighs Can Change Lives
Prior notes: Hoi!! I’m doin fine just trying to finish the semester strong. How bout you? And thank you for liking my writing! (´・ω・｀)
Pairing: Bi-Han x Chubby! Afab reader
Warnings ‼️: KICK HIS ASS!!! AHHHH
It’s an honor to be an apprentice to Lord Liu Kang. He treats you well and always saw potential in you no matter what. Your body did not change the fact that you had a fighting spirit. There was strength in you that was hidden. Though others will doubt you they will eventually find out the truth that you are mighty.
If only Bi-Han saw that from the beginning.
You were unsure of Liu Kang’s decision to send you to the Lin Kuei for more training. He apologized profusely for not having enough time to do it himself. You understood since there were many others that he had to train. He trusted Bi-Han to take good care of you during your stay. If only the first interaction was good.
“This is the woman? Are you sure she is capable of fighting?” Bi-Han looked you up and down with a look of uncertainty.
“Trust me, Bi-Han. She is more than capable. There is a reason why she is my apprentice. Do not judge, lest ye be judged.” And he means it.
Bi-Han grumbled at Liu Kang’s response. He thinks the god is foolish for taking you in. You have proportions he hadn’t seen before on a warrior. He expects abs and flat stomachs, not chubby bellies. He circled you, checking you out from all angles and not in a good way. He pokes you to check for any muscles. You keep hearing a disappointed sigh.
“If this task is too hard for you, Bi-Han, I can always have the monks at the Wu Shi train her.”
Liu Kang’s words infuriated Bi-Han. He makes it sound like he can’t train you himself. That this task is impossible for a man like him. Forget it, he’ll take you in.
“No, I will take her in. She will be better than before. Come on.” He grabbed your hand and yanked you before you could even say goodbye to Liu Kang.
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There were many in the Lin Kuei who questioned their grandmaster’s decisions. You were not like them, that was evident.
He didn’t even work with you at first. After about two days you had to go up to him to ask if he was actually going to train you or not. Clearly it’s not that he’s into training other cause when you found him he was watching all the other Lin Kuei assassins train.
“Grandmaster, when are you going to train me? I thought that was the reason Lord Liu Kang brought me to you.” You reminded him of his purpose.
He groaned as he remembered that you were still here. If he’s going to train he will do it separate from the clan.
“Fine, come with me.”
You followed him to a secluded area of the temple. Your heart was pumping. You were excited to show that you are capable of anything but afraid of failing. Liu Kang’s words echoed in your head telling you to focus on your actions, not the outcome. Give it your best shot and kick his butt!
“Show me what you are capable of. I hope you can show me that you are a worth opponent.” He sounded like he already had little faith in you.
From the start of the fight you were already proving him wrong. You were blocking every attack. Bi-Han was going easy on you for now but seeing as you could at least defend yourself he was hoping you would attack soon.
Hell, you were even dodging his ice attacks. He couldn’t even freeze one of your legs in place. Looks like he was wrong to think that you would be an easier target to hit.
Throughout it all you watched as he grew more and more frustrated. He set the bar too low and seeing that he was wrong was the worst thing he could have expected. Though your special move was probably way worse than having his ego be tampered with.
You finally attacked him. A palm strike to the jaw caused him to fall back. Before he could comprehend what you just did and get himself up you were already above him. You pressed down on him which put one of his legs in an uncomfortable position. You pinned his arm down before swinging your right leg behind his head. With all your strength you managed to flip both of you before locking his head in with your legs. And there you have it, you got him in a triangle choke.
This was just humiliating for Bi-Han. He didn’t think it was possible to lose to you. You had him right when you wanted him. Your legs made him feel like he was being squeezed by a vicious anaconda. The more he struggled the more he lost his breath. It didn’t stop there oh no. You started bending his arm and leg that were trapped between you two. You bent them in directions that would be impossible to achieve unless you broke his bones. His free hand came and slapped your thigh. He tapped out. He couldn’t take it.
You unraveled your legs to set him free. You were panting a bit and felt a bit sweaty. But compared to how he was now you looked like you never even fought him.
“I’m sorry, grandmaster, if that was too much.” You apologized even though you didn’t need to.
Once you were back up on your feet you stuck your hand out to help Bi-Han up. He looked up at you, taking in all your details for once. Maybe he lost too much oxygen when you were chocking him because for some reason you seem so cute right now. Yet he was still upset from being beaten by you. He didn’t take your hand but got up himself and walked away. Not a word was said from him and you were left wondering if you did something wrong.
I can guarantee you didn’t do anything wrong. Bi-Han just needs time to think of where he went wrong and what kind of woman he is attracted to. Looks like he might have an unexpected type.
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No matter how many breaths of fresh air Bi-Han got his new stance on you didn’t change. He has enough oxygen going into his brain this new liking is not a delusion.
He was wrong but he won’t say it out loud. You have the strength of a warrior with a heart of gold. It was all hidden in that plush body of yours. What a fool he was to doubt you.
Now his eyes are always on you. Without the mindset of you being weak he sees now that there is much more to you.
Why didn’t he see it before! Just look at that cute face of yours, especially your cheeks. He wants to squish that face and not in a skull crushing way. And those legs good heavens! Those thighs could kill a man yet he would gladly put his face between them again. Your chest is a good alternative as well. He won’t deny he noticed that from the beginning but he would remind himself about it constantly. It just took him a while to realize the whole package was enticing. Screw it, let him get his hands on your tummy.
Look, Bi-Han likes his women strong. That’s one thing. But if chubby is the new strong well he won’t hesitate to take it. And don’t tell him that’s wrong he can’t be wrong two times in a row.
You did notice his stare. It was different now. You noticed one of his eyebrows would raise as he looked at you. His eyes wandered up and down. Before he could even walk over to have a word with you, you would start walking away. You were concerned he would insult you about your looks. Why else was he checking you out like that?
No one walks away from the grandmaster. You will listen to what he has to say. Bi-Han walked quickly towards you before yanking you back by your shirt.
“Where do you think you are going? Do you not see that I am trying to talk to you.” He is giving you his gentlest voice but it still feels like he will rip your spine out.
“I’m sorry, grandmaster.” You turned around quickly to look at him.
Suddenly his hands were at your face. He had a good grip on your soft cheeks, pinching and squeezing them. You looked up at him with confusion. You brought your hands up in an effort to remove his hands only for him to quickly slap them away. Bi-Han isn’t done admiring your beauty.
You thought he was being mean to you again. He was taunting you by bringing attention to your round face. This ain’t the first time something like this has happened. The only difference is that Bi-Han seems determined to look at you. He’s not saying anything which confuses you even more.
Yes, yes, she is perfect. She will look perfect standing next to me. No one will dare touch her unless they wish to feel her wrath. if anyone dares to say something negative about her weight I will make them pay for their disrespect. They will be forced to watch their hands lose function when I freeze them-
“Bi-Han, what are you doing to her?” Tomas’ voice rang out.
Bi-Han broke away from his inner monologue. He wasn’t done making plans on making you his. His eyes caught onto the sight of Tomas’ hand reaching out to grab your wrist. You looked at him in desperation as you were so confused by what was happening. But suddenly you were flung over Bi-Han’s shoulder. He did it as if you weighted as much as a kitten. He started walking away but he had something to say to Tomas.
“Mind your business, Tomas.” He snapped at his adopted brother before walking off with you.
You were humiliated by the fact that all of the Lin Kuei were watching their grandmaster carry you away. His arm was wrapped around your thighs. You didn’t see his face but he was satisfied that his arm was squeezing your thick thighs.
“Please…just put me down already. I got it you’re strong enough to pick me up.” Your disappointed voice was muffled by your hands covering your face.
“Silence. I will put you down when I want to.”
Were you silent or were you silenced?
Bi-Han brought you all the way to his office before placing you down on the ground. Don’t think you can catch your breath now because his arms quickly wrap around your waist and pull you onto his lap. This day just keeps getting weirder and weirder.
“What are you doing?! Don’t you think I’m a little too heavy to be sitting on your lap?”
He looked offended by your words. As if you were the one who was calling him heavy. It only made his grip on you grow tighter, making sure you won’t leave now.
“Do you see me as a man who is unable to handle anything? Don’t be so foolish. Just sit here and look pretty for me as I work.” He instructed you.
Pretty? Did he just call you pretty? Maybe you hit him too hard during practice. But right now you don’t feel like disobeying any orders from him now. Even if this is a joke you rather wait to get pushed off than get off yourself and face a possible punishment. So just sit there and look your prettiest. You already are a gorgeous lady so there is no need to push yourself.
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It’s not a joke anymore. It stopped being a joke a long time ago.
Every day since that weird interaction it’s like Bi-Han can’t keep his hands off you. He would go near you just to squeeze some part of you. It started with your arms which you really hated at first. You thought he was pointing out how he couldn’t feel muscles in that area. Wrong, he just liked the feel of it.
In general he likes the feel of you. But may the gods help anyone who tries to grab at you. Only Bi-Han can do that.
The one and only time you practiced with the others in the Lin Kuei it ended with someone’s face being smashed in and you being dragged away. Hey, he shouldn’t have smacked your stomach and called you names. He was just a sore loser who couldn’t comprehend losing to you. Well now he just lost his face privileges and respect from the grandmaster.
If anyone doubted you they had to face the fury of the Lin Kuei grandmaster. If fact they can’t even look at you at this point. If they looked at you for at least five seconds Bi-Han would start holding onto you like a child who is afraid their favorite toy will get taken away.
Wherever he went, you had to be with him. He needed to keep his eyes on you. In his mind you are already his, there is no arguing about it. You didn’t even know that’s what’s going on. It just happened.
Bi-Han loves to have you on his lap. It shows everyone that you are his now. He loves having his arms wrapped around your waist and squeezing it. Occasionally he would rest his head against your shoulder. That’s the calmest anyone has ever seen him. He would compare his hand size to your thighs. You thought it was another insult before you felt him squeeze them.
Squeezing, poking, squishing, grabbing, holding, secretly loving, that’s all he seemed to do. If you ever asked why, Bi-Han would silence you. You’re not allowed to question his actions nor hint that there was anything wrong with you. The only time you were allowed to have space was when you need to use the bathroom, eat, or sleep. And even getting him to go away so you could sleep was an issue.
You thought your saving grace would come once you heard Liu Kang would be visiting. He wanted to check on your progress and see if you wanted to return to the fire temple. He manages to make more time for you. No matter how much time you were away from him you were still Liu Kang’s apprentice.
Though that depends if Bi-Han will let you go.
One of the clansmen alerted Bi-Han of the god’s presence. Liu Kang soon came walking into the office. He was shocked to see you sitting on Bi-Han’s lap. Clearly it wasn’t fully your decision since you looked shy about it.
“I see you have gotten along with my apprentice. Is there any reason she is sitting on your lap instead of training?” Liu Kang addressed Bi-Han.
“Is there an issue with this. You brought her to me, I make the decision on what she is supposed to be doing right now.”
“I mean, I think I should have been training at this point but you were barely letting me do that.” You talked back, barely caring about what is happening anymore.
Liu Kang’s glowing eyes kept shifting between you and Bi-Han. If what you say is true, which it is, that means the grandmaster has been lacking in his duties. Though to Bi-Han he hasn’t lost anything from this experience.
“If that is the case it might be best to come back with me, my apprentice. Perhaps Bi-Han has other things he would prefer to attend to.” Liu Kang gestured for you to come with him.
The moment you tried to get off, Bi-Han pressed your body against him more. He glared at Liu Kang who looked back in shock. There is no chance in hell that he will let you walk out of this temple. No one will take his strong, chubby woman from him.
You sighed, realizing he will never give up. It dawned on you that he wasn’t making fun of you. He genuinely liked you now that you have shown your potential. You shrugged your shoulders at Liu Kang since you didn’t know what to do now. You would like more training but it might be a whole battle just to get Bi-Han off you. In a way you’re not complaining all that much.
“What is the meaning of this, Bi-Han? You have lacked in your duties to-“
Bi-Han didn’t want to hear anymore from Liu Kang. He carried you in his arms like a princess and walked out of the office. Liu Kang followed close behind him, still scolding him for his actions. All Bi-Han would respond with was a blunt no and continued walking on.
You’re left to think while this madness is going on. There is one thing you are certain you are feeling. Pride. Pride in the fact that you not only beat Bi-Han and proved your worth but proved that you are worth his affection. You changed this man’s perspective and his type. His eyes have been opened to the possibility of having a bigger figure in his arms and in his life. This is the way.
In an effort to get Liu Kang off his back he walked into his bedroom and slammed the door shut before Liu Kang could get another word out. He placed you on the bed before laying down next to you and resting his head on your chest. It’s hopeless, he’s too attached to you. I mean just look at that face. You didn’t think he could unfurrow his eyebrows. This is a moment in history!
“You’re not gonna let me go I’m guessing.” You asked.
“No.” Plain and simple from Bi-Han.
You held yourself back from chuckling. He’s clearly the possessive type. And if he can see that there is beauty in you then you will take it even if you had to beat him up first for him to see that.
“Fine, you win. Just this once.” You said softly.
Are you happy with your prize, Bi-Han?
After notes: Good amount of people don’t expect me to be strong because I’m chubby. A lot of my strength comes from my legs. But I’ve had instances where I have slapped and even punched people by accident. Literally told a story yesterday of how I punched someone I knew by accident and they folded. Anyways I was very happy to get a request like this. I hope you are happy with the outcome I did my best! I’m sorry i didn’t post yesterday I was very tired and mentally drained from all the bs. Hopefully that didn’t affect what I wrote. Adiós!
#mortal kombat#mk1#mortal kombat 1#mortal kombat1#mortal kombat x reader#mortal kombat x you#mk x reader#mk x you#mk fanfic#bi han x you#bi han x reader#bi han mk#bi han sub zero#bi han mortal kombat#bi han#sub zero x you#sub zero x reader#sub zero#chubby reader
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I was wondering if you could write Jude Bellingham x reader(barca fan)
rivalry (one-shot)
jude x reader
summary : the request!
hala madrid :)
the excitement you felt for jude after his win against manchester city was slowly fading away as the day of the classico approached. you were always his number one fan, from birmingham to dortmund and now madrid. obviously, as a barcelona fan you were not particularly happy about your boyfriend’s decision to join real madrid but you understood how big of an achievement it was. slowly but surely you found yourself wearing a real madrid jersey way more often that you would have ever thought. the classico was not one of the matches you would go to in the white colors though. even if this decision was not making jude very happy you had still decided to wear a barcelona jersey to the match. it had been an ongoing fight for a week now and even a day before, you found yourself having the same debate with jude just before he left for training.
‘’baby you don't understand, you cannot come to a match wearing a barca jersey when you're dating a madrid player’’
‘’i've been a barcelona fan longer that i've been dating you jude, get over it’’ you said rolling your eyes
‘’well you should have thought about that before dating me’’
‘’i didn't even know you were going to join madrid come on’’ you said a bit louder
‘’we'll talk later, i have to go to training.’’ he responded, too tired to snap back
jude left the house without the usual sweet goodbyes you two shared. you spent the rest of the day mad at him even though a part of you knew he was kind of right. you occupied yourself the best you could all day and left the house just before your boyfriend got back home. you sat in a cafe close to jude’s house and sipped on a teacup until your phone started buzzing.
texts with judee
where are you?
we were supposed to talk when i got back
are u still mad
come back pls love u
you didn't respond but headed back to his house, swallowing back your petty behavior. when you got there, jude was in the shower. you removed your clothes before joining him, making the boy jump at the sudden intrusion. you talked to him normally, like the morning fight had never happened but he just looked at you suspiciously.
‘’you’re not mad anymore?’’
‘’i decided not to, i know barca is going to win no matter what jersey i win’’
the comment made jude chuckle as he tucked you closer to his wet body, his mouth reaching your neck and placing kisses that got lower and lower. when you two were done with your shower and other activities, any bad feelings were entirely gone from your mind.
the next morning, you woke up without jude's presence next to you. looking at your phone, you saw that it was already way past twelve and that the boy had headed out to training some time ago. he hadn't left you any text but when you got up you saw his jersey on the dresser with a note reading "eager to see you wearing that baby, love you xx".
after take a taxi to the stadium, you took a seat in jude's box and hurriedly texted him before he had to come out to train.
texts with judee
good luck today 🥱
btw don't u dare score
ill score and dedicate my celebration to u love
ill rather have you killing me tbh
nvm ill found another girl to do that with
fuck u
love you baby gtg
*you liked the message*
another classico win for madrid and another late winning goal by jude. any other context would have had you screaming and cheering for him but as a barca fan you could just scoff and internally curse your boyfriend for being so good. through the bernabeau’s billboard boards you saw jude’s celebration and didn't miss the smug smile he sent in the direction of the box you were sitting in. you knew you were going to get dragged after today. you hurriedly put on a hoodie, ironically jude’s, on top of the real madrid jersey in hope of at least escaping a bit of jude’s incoming banter.
you waited for him in the hallway next to the locker room not by choice but by obligation, he was still your ride after all. he came out of the room loudly laughing with his teammates before noticing you and murmuring something that made them giggle when they walked past you. jude reached you and pulled you into a hug, which you could not resist returning even though you were mad.
‘’it's such a good day love right?’’ he exclaimed, smiling at you
‘’shut up really’’
‘’aww come on, not gonna congratulate your boyfriend’’ he said clearly restraining himself from laughing in your face
‘’sorry i don't condone cheating’’
‘’nahh don't even start you know that was a fair win’’
you simply rolled your eyes and entered his car, trying to get home even faster. jude didn't say anything else and started driving. halfway through the drive, you realized that he wasn't taking the directions to your flat at all and was actually driving straight to his apartments.
‘’where are you going, you forgot to drop me off?’’ you said
‘’what do you mean, you always stay over after my matches’’ he responded sounding genuinely confused
‘’well, do i look like i wanna stay over today jude’’ you snapped a bit annoyed at his oblivious demeanor
‘’first of all, calm down a bit, yeah. and i understand you're mad about the result but i wanna spend time with my girlfriend so you're coming with me’’
he didn't seem like he was going to take no as an answer and you felt a bit bad for your bitchy attitude so you only turned your head away from him. you heard jude sigh and felt his hand reaching for yours that was resting on your thigh. you allowed him to hold it but didn't make any effort to squeeze it back as you normally would do.
‘’don't even get why you're so mad, baby. you knew barca had no chance of winning this anyways’’
‘’ok this is enough, get me out of this car right now’’ you said giggling, not really taking yourself seriously anymore
jude smiled softly seeing your happy face in the corner of his face. as much as he loved flexing his love for madrid in your face, he still preferred when you were not mad at him. the two of you finished the ride in a mix of stolen kisses at red lights and unserious banter.
#jude bellingham#football#football imagine#jude bellingham imagine#jude x reader#football x reader#jude bellingham x reader#hey jude :)
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relaxation comes in different forms | a.h x fem!reader
ꨄ requested: no
ꨄ genre: smut
ꨄ summary: everyone had their own way of relaxing after a hard case but you had aaron’s way was much better than anyone else’s.
everyone had their own way of relaxing after a long day, emily liked to sipped her wine and chill with sergio, derek liked to workout or talk to pretty women, jj had her children and husband, rossi liked to cook meals big enough to last him two weeks, spencer liked to read, and penelope had her online prince. everyone found relaxation in different places.
on the other hand, you and aaron found relaxation within each other. a relationship that was hidden from the prying eyes of your colleagues and friends, a relationship that was only for you and him to experience. some people might say that all the sneaking around would get tiring eventually but not for you and aaron, you felt like it kept your relationship interesting— exciting even.
all the stolen glances from across the room or the gentle touches you sneak when no one else is looking. if anything, sneaking around was your favorite part of your relationship. okay maybe that’s exaggerating a bit, you liked sneaking around because it meant you had something to yourself for once but in all honesty, your favorite part of your relationship was the sex.
it’s your favorite part because each time you did it, it was different. there was the rough sex, the quickies in his office, you name it, but the best for you was the slow, lazy sex that mainly happened early in the morning or late at night when you’re both too tired to do all that moving around.
for example.
the day had been terrible and long, which is how you found yourself in aaron’s lap with his cock buried deep in your cunt, your arms and legs wrapped around his body while his arms were wrapped around yours to keep you close to him. aaron had his legs tucked underneath him so he could thrust up into you from below. really if you were to have a blanket pulled over you no one would suspect what you were doing, it would just seem like you were just holding each other after a long day. the room had been pretty quiet since you both walked in and you tried to keep that way since there was a little boy right down the hall and waking him this late would be a nightmare.
with your head being tucked in the crook of his neck, your moans were fairly muffled. you slid your fingers through the short hairs at the back of his head and lightly tugged as his hands slid down your back to your ass. a low groan left his parted lips when you started to tug at his hair and drag your lips alongside the pulsing vein in his neck. that was always something that aaron liked more than he admits–he’s more sensitive there than he lets on–and you anytime you got the chance you’d ghost your lips over his pulse point or the sensitive spot right under his ear.
somehow he managed to shift his weight and get more leverage to fuck you better. his thrust weren’t exactly fast, given the position you were in, but they were powerful enough to have your walls start to clamp down on his cock so tight that you were borderline pushing him out.
your legs slightly quivered around his waist as you started to grind down into his thrust, your hand fell from his head to dig into the skin on his back. the feeling of your nails breaking his skin had his head tipping back and a soft hiss to escape him. you bit down on your bottom lip, trying to hold in your moan, as you started to cum.
aaron could feel his stomach start to tighten at the feeling of your cunt practically pushing him out. he used his grip on you to lift you off of his cock for a moment, you let out a soft whine and raised your head to look at him.
“why’d you stop? i can’t take more, please.”
“fuck- i know you can, just- just give me a second, baby.” he leaned forward and rested his head on your shoulder. aaron took a deep breath so that he didn’t cum so soon, he wanted to make you cum at least once more before he let himself fall apart but he knew that if he stayed in you any longer he wouldn’t have made it.
he really only took a few second before he was flipping you around so you were on your back and sliding back into you. aaron pushed your legs up so far your knees were nearly touching your chest. before you met him you would’ve never thought you could bend in such ways but every day he manages to help you discover something new about yourself.
with the way he had your legs spread open for him, he had the best view of his cock driving in and out of you. being inside of you was the best feeling in the world for aaron and he’s sure that if he could he would spend every waking moment inside you.
you could tell he was trying to hold back his orgasm for you—you could feel his cock twitching—and you hated that. the second aaron tore his eyes from your cunt to look at you, you were opening your mouth to speak.
“please cum in me, aaron. i wanna feel it, please?” your voice was light but trembling with need, you reached out and placed your hand on his forearm. aaron’s tongue darted out to wet his lips before he looked back down at your cunt greedily sucking him in.
he let out a guttural groan and let your legs fall back down on the bed as he leaned over your body, pressing your chest together and changing his pace to one that had the room being filled with the sound of your skin hitting. aaron moved his arm to rest above your head as he began to kiss down your neck and leave gentle reminders of this night across your heated skin.
a few moments later, aaron’s hips stilled and he pressed himself as deep as he could go as he started to cum. you wrapped your arms and legs around him and held him as tight against you as your could. you could feel his heart racing against your chest and you were sure he could probably feel yours going just as fast.
even though he didn’t get to make you cum again before he did, hearing you beg for him to cum in you was more than enough for him.
#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner smut#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner x fem!reader#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotch imagine#criminal minds fandom#criminal minds fanfiction#aaron hotch smut#aaron hotchner x fem!reader smut
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I'm so excited
Remus Lupin x reader
Words: about 4.0k words
Warnings: smut, possessive!Remus, swearing, not proofreaded (sorry it's really late, and I'm starting to imagine things :) )
Author’s note: Hi loves! I'm so so so so so sorry, but life it's really kinking me in the ass and seems like uni likes to do the same, so I hope to write some more during this break. Let me know if you liked this one, your witch Becky
Requests are open I Ask
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KINKTOBER ...........-..........KINKTOBER TAGLIST 2023
DAY 11: Breeding (tbt maybe isn't that much breeding, but I let myself get carried away by Remus Fucking Lupin)
Title of the one shot (and song in it): I'm so excited by The pointer sisters
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Remus could swear that he had never hated you as much as he did at that moment.
You and young Lupin had never been big fans of each other, as you both competed to be your year's brightest witch and wizard, but for some time the hungry little wolf in him had begun to see more than just a rival of wits in you: prey.
Each time he could not help but dwell on your hair, your smile (unfortunately never directed at him), your wonderful and magnetic eyes, and then wander over aspects that made his thoughts less pure. At night he dreamed of being able to touch your breasts, his most secret and darkest desire, being able to kiss, taste and bite them, almost putting his signature on you, so that everyone, even that idiot Ravenclaw of your year knew that no one but him could touch you; or he dreamed of leaving a trail of kisses from your belly down to your belly, to your thighs, which he imagined were so soft and sweet, until a scream from Sirius woke him up in the morning, telling him he was late, again. Sometimes in the dullest classes he marveled at imagining what it would be like to come inside you, to possess you in such a primitive, animal way; to see his cum dripping from your pussy as his fingers brought it back inside you, into your womb, where it belonged according to him.
Part of Remus knew that he had no right to impose himself on you in that possessive way, but somehow the wolf inside him disagreed, having decided that you were by far the most captivating and attractive prey he had ever seen.
Despite everything, however, young Lupin had always managed to make sure that he did not give in to his instincts, well at least until this evening.
The Hufflepuffs had decided to throw another party, to take the pressure off the young students in this exam-filled period, and of course his friends had decided that Remus absolutely had to attend to tell them "to relax a bit," but Sirius, as they were getting ready to arrive at the place where the party was being held, had looked at Remus and raising his eyebrows in an endearing way, with the look of someone who knows more than he should, had said that he knew for a fact that you would be at the party. Remus had never wanted to punch him as much as he did at that exact moment, but the thought that had grafted itself into him of you, dancing in the middle of a dance floor, not in the usual clothes he saw you in class in, but freer and more yourself, had been enough to make him close his mouth in fear that an involuntary moan would escape his lips.
But his imagination had not even come close to reality.
He had been sitting in an armchair for two hours now, stiff and panting, while next to him two are making out as if he were not next to them, but Remus cares nothing about what is happening next to him, the only thing he can focus on is you.
Right now you've climbed on top of one of the tables in the center of the room with your friend, and you're dancing one attached to the other, moving your pelvis in time to the music. You are wearing a simple black T-shirt with a V-neckline, ending just above your belly button and highlighting your breasts, which made young Lupin say a long string of swear words when he first saw you when he entered the room, hoping that like a spell they might change what you are wearing into cute, soft pajamas with Christmas puppets, or make the painful erection he was feeling go away. A simple skirt, on the other hand, moved in time with your hips, showing off your legs, neither too much nor too little. It was shocking to Remus how on an occasion like this you had managed to maintain the same elegance and class you show in class when you get into an argument with him about who is right, in fact he almost seemed to see the same stubbornness and confidence in your eyes at this moment as you downed another sip of your drink, which you had managed not to spill despite everything despite continuing to move.
"If you take a picture of her, you'll be able to look at it again tonight you know, when you can't help but-" Sirius whispers in his ear, waking Remus from the trance-like state he had fallen into.
"We get it Padfoot, you don't need to go on." James stops him, as he gets a glimpse of the young wolf from behind their friend's back.
Remus rolls his eyes, only to look in his hands at the drink that he has now finished, and without saying anything to his friends he turns and goes to the table where the bottles of alcohol are.
He pauses for a moment to look at which of the proposed spirits is the strongest, to make sure that he also forgets his name, as well as the sinful thoughts your body brings him.
However, everything changes in a matter of seconds.
The young wolf has finally identified what he wants to drink when a body pulls up, still moving in time to the music. Remus turns to glare evilly at anyone who has bumped into him at such an unhappy and difficult time in his life, when he sees the culmination of all his problems: you.
He can't help but look at you enraptured even more than before, now with the possibility of being able to notice up close all the details that had eluded him a few minutes ago; besides given the difference in height, now your V-neckline offers him a view of your breasts unseen before, so much so that he has to restrain himself from running into the nearest bathroom and throwing cold water on his face, and more.
Your hair reflects the moonlight, which comes from a nearby window, and at that moment Remus realizes a truth that had escaped him just before: in three days it would be a full moon.
Not understanding how something so important could have slipped his mind, he realizes that all last week he had been too busy cursing your name or moaning it at night to realize that the moon was changing night after night.
You are the only thing he can now understand and think about, and this terrifies him, but at the same time makes him feel good.
Coming to her senses, she realizes that caught up in the rhythm of the music and the alcohol you practically danced on him. Lupin feeling a presence in his pants becoming more and more obvious and the wolf inside him getting louder and louder, decides that he cannot stay a second longer in this room, so he hurries out of the Hufflepuff common room, to find himself thus in the corridors. He begins to run, not going too far, but far enough to still hear the background music, thinking he is alone, when he hears footsteps.
Remus turns and sees you, leaning forward trying to regain the breath you had lost in running after him. Again the sight of your cleavage is enough to make him say a sequence of swear words under his breath as you pull yourself up and look at him.
"What are you doing here?" Remus asks, in an almost mean tone, yet unable to hide a note of longing as he tries to send you away by being rude to you.
"Your friends looked pretty bad to me, and they asked me to see if you were okay when you ran away from the party." You reply in the same acid tone he had used, before bursting out laughing. "What an idiot I am. I thought that at least this time if I showed you kindness, you would see that I'm not a bitch like you like to paint me."
"Why do you care so much that I think so highly of you?" He asks, intrigued, as he mentally slaps himself for the question he just asked.
"Because you are a person that everyone esteems and appreciates, and it is an honor to be appreciated by you in this damn school, and I never understood what I did to deserve the treatment I get from you. Do you really hate me for a couple of assignments and lessons? Are you really that arrogant?" You ask as you take a step toward him, but the sight of you so angry and panting with your hair messed up is enough to make him go wild, imagining you in the same condition, but this time because of him in a different way: under him and panting from his kisses as he makes you cry out in pleasure with his member. Remus takes a step back to catch his breath as he tries with all his might not to jump on you, and to banish his thoughts with images of pink-bearded Dumbledore dancing to a Christmas song. You, however, misinterpret that step backward, and respond with another step forward toward him.
"What more do I have to do than that Lupin? I'm laying myself bare before you, what more do I have to do Remus? Tell me."
Upon hearing his name fall from your fleshy lips, a short-circuit occurs in Remus's brain, who, no longer able to have control over his body, pounces on you like a predator who manages to finally get his fangs on his prey.
You initially don't know how to react when you feel his mouth on yours, but after a few seconds you return the kiss with equal passion. Your hands go into his brown hair, pulling it, while at the same time you press his face even harder against yours. Instead, his hands travel the way from your hips to your butt to your thighs, where with a nimble move Remus pulls you up as if you weighed nothing, while your back collides with the cold stone wall, enough to make you moan into the boy's mouth.
So you stay endless minutes kissing, in that lost hallway, while underneath the music seems to give you the tempo with which your tongues must move.
Then Remus pauses, trying to catch his breath, leaning his forehead against yours, still trying to keep at bay the wolf inside him that was clawing at the door to get out.
"You're still in time to run away baby. If you don't leave now, I don't know if I can guarantee that I can stop another time." Remus whispers a few inches from your lips as you too catch your breath. You look at him confused, not understanding why he sees what you were doing, or what you might soon be doing, as a terrible thing you would like to run away from instead of something you have been running toward for years.
And instead of answering him, she starts humming the song that had just started at the party.
"Tonight's the night we're gonna make it happen-" Whispers kissing his forehead. "-tonight we'll put all other things aside-" You continue kissing his eyes. "-give in this time and show me some affection-" You sing as you kiss his cheeks, hearing him moan, almost as if it is a pain what you are doing, even though you know for sure from the erection pressing against your belly that it is not. "-We're goin' for those pleasures in the night.-" You say finally kissing him on the lips, lightly brushing against his before continuing to sing. "-I want to love you, feel you, wrap myself around you, I want to squeeze you, please you, I just can't get enough, and if you move real slow, I'll let it go-" now, however, it is he who begins his attack with slow kisses from your ear to your mouth, not even touching it though before moving down to your neck.
"-I'm so excited, and I just can't hide it, I'm about to lose control and I think I like it, I'm so excited, and I just can't hide it, and I know, I know, I know, I know I want you." You finish singing the refrain panting as he finishes leaving marks all the way down your neck to the hollow, leaving almost his mark, wanting everyone to know who was lucky enough to have you in his arms and on his lips.
"Do you still have doubts Lupin, or should I go back to my room and do for myself what you haven't given me yet? Or maybe I could go back to the party and find someone, maybe Sirius-" You try to provoke him, but your words die in your throat as one of his hands tightens around your neck.
"Don't ever try to mention another guy's name at the moment I'm about to fuck you, or next time not only will I leave all these bites on your neck but I'll also put a nice collar on you." He states in a hard, confident voice, enough to make you tremble, as you feel a warm sensation creating in your lower abdomen. "You'd like that wouldn't you, baby? A nice collar that tells everyone where you belong?" He continues, realizing that he has touched the right keys.
You gasp and search within yourself for the strength to respond to him.
"Lupin, I swear if-" You try to say, but you can't finish.
"Oh my baby, are we off to a bad start? What's my name?" He interrupts you, tightening his grip on your neck a little more.
"Remus, please Remus I need you."
"What do you need baby?" He asks, as with a sly grin he watches you wiggle under his gaze, as if your body is on fire.
"I need you to fuck me. Now. There's a broom cupboard nearby, no one ever comes by here." You propose in hopes of soon alleviating the feeling of longing you feel.
"And here I thought all you did was keep your pretty little nose in the books all the time." He taunts you, as always with your legs wrapped around his waist and one arm wrapped behind your back and the other on your neck, he leads you toward the place you suggested just now.
"And now I find out that instead you are nothing but a little whore, ready to get fucked in the broom closet. Don't worry baby, I'll prove to you that once again I'm better at it than you are."
"Oh yeah and how?" You manage to say, once the door to the cramped little room, capable of holding only the two of you standing, is closed behind you. Dust gets into your nostrils, and you don't even want to think about how many bugs there must be on these walls, but the only thing you care about now is the man between your legs, and what he might do.
"You'll learn to recite my name better than any spell they've ever taught you, and I know for a fact that you'll appreciate its result much more, I'd say it's nothing short of ecstatic." He replies, before venturing back to your lips to devour you as if it were his last meal on earth, and he hadn't eaten in weeks.
You feel his warm hands settle on your breasts, and then reach to the edge of the T-shirt you are wearing and slip it off, leaving before his eyes a view of your chest, covered only by your bra.
"Merlin, how I love your boobs." Remus confesses, before moving on to leave open-mouthed kisses and bites on all the skin he finds available, then quickly and surely removing your bra in less time than you realize.
Now that your hair is uncovered and in contact with the cold night air, it stiffens, and the young wolf is not slow to take one between his lips and tease the other with his hand, until your hands are violently embedded in his hair and your moans grow louder and louder.
"Please, Remus, I need more." You beg him in a whisper, so you feel one of his hands rest on your hip, while the other descends to your panties, and his mouth continues to torture your right hair, with the constancy with which he wants to prove he is better than you in class. He lowers one of your legs by resting it on the floor, so that access to his coveted treasure is easier. His hand grazes your pussy from above your panties, sending a shiver down your entire back as you gasp through your lips, resting your head on his shoulder.
With a gentle gesture he moves his fingers between your panties and the most sensitive and delicate spot on your body, making you gasp.
"God baby, I didn't think you were so wet." He comments, making you blush. "Didn't you want more baby? I swear I won't stop until you beg me to stop." He whispers in your ear, pulling away from your nipple for a moment, then attaching the other one, leaving the one from before wet from his saliva to the night breeze, thus making you shiver with pleasure again and getting you even wetter.
One of his long, slender fingers enters you, teasing you, before adding a second. He moves his fingers with agility and confidence, like those of a musician performing his favorite piece that he has been playing for years now. He touches inside you in all the right places, making you moan with pleasure.
That delicious torture goes on for minutes that seem like hours.
Your lips are on the verge of splitting from how much you are biting them, when you feel coming like a wave the orgasm to which your gestures are leading you.
"Remus I'm going to-"
"Cum." He says simply, looking you fixedly in the eyes, from his full height. You stare gazing at those wonderful chocolate-colored crystal orbs, illuminated by the gentle moonlight filtering through the cracks in the door, when you can no longer stop the inevitable in the face of his oh-so-dry command. You reach the pinnacle of pleasure, and it is as if for a moment you can touch the sky with your finger. Your soul goes out of your body for a moment, until you open your eyes again, gasping and he looks at you with a satisfied look.
"And that's just the beginning baby, you still have to come on my cock." He comments, as with a lightning-fast gesture he unbuckles his underpants and pulls down his panties, just enough to make his member come out. You remain mute staring at his cock for a moment, noting its size: it wasn't the first time you had fucked someone, but none of the guys could match Remus, that was for sure.
"See anything you like baby?" He asks you sarcastically, as you feel your pussy getting even wetter than it already is.
"Maybe, but you still have a promise to keep so you'd better get to work." You retort, before being silenced by his lips. With his hands he directs his cock toward your entrance, then puts it all the way inside you without warning, leaving you breathless with your back pressed against the door. You feel him inside you in places you didn't even think he could reach, as he stays still to give you a minimum of time to adjust to his size.
"Oh baby, don't worry, I'm a man of my word. You will walk out of here that I will have branded you with my cum from inside, so that everyone will know for sure that you are mine." He whispers in your ear before starting to move. He comes almost completely out of you, leaving only the tip in, then comes back in with a dry, sure thump a couple of times, to start moving faster and faster and harder. Part of you wonders if he really means what he said about coming inside you to place his ownership over you, and at the very thought you can't help but tighten the walls of your pussy around him.
"Do you like the idea? Of having my cum inside you dripping down your thighs, letting everyone know you're mine?" He says and you can't help but gasp, the pleasure clouding your mind. "Shit, I can already picture you all proud and strutting walking down the school hallways, no panties on, while everyone stares at you and in your lap all my cum. Who knows maybe I could even get you pregnant." Remus continues, as you moan his name louder and louder, hearing what he says. The young wolf can swear that by now the beast inside him has become uncontainable, the only thing he can think about is coming inside you and making sure you have her pups, to bite you and let everyone know you are uniquely hers, in such an animal way that he is surprised you are not fucking in the woods, just like two wild creatures, since you have now become that: pleasure-seeking animals to survive.
"Remus, come inside me. I'm close to coming again, please." You beg him, after a few minutes have passed in silence, too busy fucking each other to talk.
"First you baby then I will make sure you can have my puppies, however, first you have to squeeze that beautiful pussy you have around my cock. Come for me baby."
And at those words you can't help but come one more time. Your head becomes light, as if floating, as your vision darkens. Your pussy squeezes hard and in rhythm with Remus's cock, which stimulated by your orgasm goes to meet his, letting all his seed pour into you in long, powerful spurts.
You remain still and connected for a few minutes before Remus begins to laugh. You look at him confused and tired, ready for yet another joke from him at you and even more personal teasing after such an intimate moment, when he leaves you a light kiss on your cheek and asks, "Do you really think I would ever be able to hate you, I was convinced you couldn't stand even the sight of me."
Smile in turn as you look at him, before you also speak.
"Well apparently neither of them is as smart in the end as they think they are I would say."
Bonus (I think I definitely have a problem with bonuses)
Sirius looks at his friend, sitting next to him on the settee, as he sees you re-enter holding Remus's hand at the party, now decidedly calmer than an hour and a half ago, when both of you had left without a trace and without telling anyone where you were going. The two of you approach the liquor table, laughing and joking as you look into each other's eyes, with a smile that says a lot about your nocturnal activities in the hallways, though only to those who are able to pick up on the signs.
Sirius and James seeing that exchange look at each other and jumping to their feet scream in unison:
"He did it!" Turning many loving couples around, including their friend and you, watching them confusedly do a dance of joy between bodies of boys asleep from exhaustion and alcohol, not knowing that this night would be the end of you, as they would forever use it against you as an argument in every speech to prove that two such smart people can be, by far, the dumbest.
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Month 14 - Newleaf
Lake’s paws ached. Her stomach growled and her head pounded dully behind her eyes. She couldn’t remember the last time she felt full. Still, she walked.
Ever since her mother had disappeared, she’d been wandering. A few cats had shared a bite with her but they didn’t have much to share in the first place. Most of them were too busy training to fight and they didn’t want her around, especially not the special cats - Exalted, she remembered hazily. She’d tried following other kits home but every time she was politely sent away.
Two days ago, she’d seen a couple cats bringing back a pair of juicy looking birds and while they hadn’t shared with her, they had told her that there was plenty of prey over the far road if she could catch it, laughing between themselves. She figured that was as good an idea as any, so she’d headed out for the wild frontier!
It was farther away than she’d thought it would be, or maybe it was just easier to get lost without roads to follow. She walked and walked and then stopped to sleep then walked some more. She was starting to wonder if there even was anything out here at all. Was she just missing it?
The sound of running water grabbed her attention and she licked her chapped lips eagerly at the thought. The kit picked up her heavy paws and bounded towards the noise. Coming out of the grass, she suddenly found herself on the edge of a stream of cool, fresh water - fresher than she’d ever seen before at least.
“Wowzers!” she declared because that seemed fitting. She waded into the stream and crouched down, gulping greedily until her stomach hurt. She thought about falling over and sleeping in the stream but worried she might drown. Instead, she decided to follow the water like it was a road and see where that took her. At the very least it would be fun to splash around.
The sky was getting dark again but Lake didn’t mind. She tromped noisily against the current of the stream, humming a song as each note came to her mind. The chill of the water kept her awake, which was nice. She wondered if she would see a fish. They lived in water, right? She hoped so. She was starving and the water she drank wasn’t helping. It honestly made her feel grosser.
Eventually the stream came upon a small hill but, instead of curving or trickling down the slope, it cut through the earth in a big metal tube. “That’s interesting,” Lake thought out loud. It was like a gutter drain but huge, big enough for a cat to walk through! She bounded up to the edge of it and sucked in a huge breath.
“Hellooooo!” she bellowed, giggling at the way it echoed off the tunnel walls. She splashed her paws in the water and listened to the magnified sound with excitement. “Blaaaaaaah! Bluh, bluh, bluh!” She snorted with laughter. This was the best fun she’d had in weeks!
“Hello?” A voice that wasn’t her own echoed back to her. She gasped. Was that possible?
“Hello?” she called back. It was hard to tell in the dark but at the end of the tunnel, she swore she saw something moving. Then a glint of eyes blinked at her, barely reflecting the moonlight in her direction.
“Wowzers!” she cried, “I didn’t think I’d see anybody! Are you hunting too?”
“Yeah,” the voice said hesitantly. “How old are you?” It sounded like a boy but there were other quieter voices outside the tunnel and they were talking very serious-like.
“I’m three whole months!” Lake said. The eyes pulled away from the tunnel as the cat whispered with his friends. Lake decided she wanted to say hi up close and personal. She started towards the cat, sloshing through the stream up to her belly. Once the tunnel was all around her, the sound of her paw steps started to hurt her ears and she hurried towards the other end to get away from it.
She burst out of the other end and thumped into a pair of bony legs, falling back onto her rump with an “oof!” The cat she had run into reached out a paw to steady her. He smelled like grass and dust and his breath smelled like prey blood. It made Lake’s mouth water.
“Easy, there, kid,” the cat said. It was now that Lake looked up and got her first sight of him.
“You’re funny looking, mister!” she said. He was a skinny white and blue tabby with big ears, like a little dog, and a very pointy face.
“I could say the same about you,” he said.
She laughed. “Am I funny looking?”
“The poor thing looks half starved,” whispered one of the other cats, an equally funny looking girl with brown points on her face and feet.
“Are you out here all alone?” asked the third cat, a fluffy brown tabby boy who was much more normal looking.
“Yessir!” said Lake. “I heard there was food here. Do you guys know where the far road is?” The cats all looked at each other for a beat.
Then the first one spoke up, “Uh, no, but we do know where some food is.”
“Really?!” Lake grinned. “Can I have some?!” Her mouth was starting to fill with saliva. She slurped some of it down to avoid drooling.
“Yeah,” nodded the normal boy. “I’ll even carry you if you want.”
“Nuh, uh,” Lake shook her head. “I’m a big girl now.”
“You sure are,” said the funny looking boy. “Barleypaw, will you go grab one of the mice or something?”
“Yeah,” nodded the funny looking girl. She bounded off into the grass and Lake started after her but the funny looking boy put out a paw to stop her.
“She’s gonna be right back with the food,” he said. “You just sit.”
“Oh, okay,” shrugged Lake. “My name’s Lake. What’s your names?”
“I’m Floodpaw,” said the funny looking boy.
“Sparrowpaw,” said the normal looking boy.
“And our sister is Barleypaw,” said Floodpaw.
“Hey!” Lake gasped. “Did you know all your names rhyme?” Sparrowpaw laughed a little. Floodpaw raised one brow.
“Yeah…” he said. “Where’s your mom, kid?”
Lake frowned. “Oh, um… I don't know.”
“Oh,” said Floodpaw.
“That’s alright,” said Sparrowpaw. “Maybe you can come home with us, then.”
“Yeah?” she brightened. Was she finally gonna be able to find a new place to sleep and a new person to help her get food?
“Yeah,” said Floodpaw. “Once you’ve eaten we can go there.”
“I can’t wait!” cried Lake. “You guys are the best!” The brothers exchanged glances again. Lake wasn’t sure what it meant but she saw the sister coming back over the hill and smelled the delicious smell of meat and all other thoughts fled her brain. She scarfed the whole thing down as quickly as she could. She ate it so fast she forgot to check what kind of animal it was. By the time she finished, she realized she felt very sick to her stomach.
“Oh…” she said. “I think I ate too fast…”
���That’s alright,” said Sparrowpaw, “Are you sure you don’t want me to carry you?”
She nodded, cheeks full of breath as she tried to stifle her nausea.
“Alright, come on then,” Floodpaw said, stretching. “Why don’t we go back to camp? I bet a nice walk will help you feel better.”
“Okay,” mumbled Lake. She didn’t feel like walking. She felt like falling over and never moving again. She didn’t like saying no to people, though, so she forced herself to take a few steps.
Floodpaw tilted his funny looking head and said, “I dunno, maybe we should just sit for a while.” Lake sighed a little in relief. “Yeah, why don’t you guys go gather the prey and tell somebody about Lake and I’ll chill here with the kid until she feels like walking.”
“Are you sure?” asked Barleypaw. “We’re awfully close to the border.”
“It’ll be fine,” he said, flopping down in the grass. “Worst comes to worse, I'll grab the kid and go.”
“Alright…” said Sparrowpaw, looking unconvinced. He and Barleypaw started off into the grass, looking back over their shoulders and whispering to each other. Lake let out a big sigh and eased herself into the grass next to Floodpaw.
“Thanks,” she said, closing her eyes. “I don’t feel very good.” She swallowed, her sides heaving under the distress of her sick tummy.
“No problem,” smiled Floodpaw. “Barleypaw and Sparrowpaw are always like ‘go, go, go, let’s follow the rules’ or whatever but I get just wanting to lie down.”
“Yeah,” Lake smiled wide and wiggled into a more comfortable position. “I like laying down!”
“Me too,” laughed Floodpaw, dropping his head onto the ground too. “So, what are you doing out here, Lake?”
“Looking for food!” Lake purred. Her stomach gurgled loudly and she giggled a bit. “Thanks for sharing it with me.”
“Yeah, no problem,” said Floodpaw, one ear flicking away the gnats buzzing by. “But why are you looking for food all the way out here? You’re from the city aren’t you?”
“Oh, yeah, I am,” Lake nodded, peeking her eyes open at him. “Some cats told me there was food out here. I was really hungry. Plus it sounded fun to try.”
“Don’t other cats bring you food?” he asked, brows furrowed.
“Nah,” she sighed. “Not since Mother went missing.”
The crease in his funny, pointy face deepened. “Still, there wasn’t anybody else who helped you out?”
“Um…” Lake frowned too. “No. I’m sorry.” Was she answering wrong? Why was he upset?
“Oh, no, hey,” he said quickly, “It’s okay, I’m not mad, I’m just-” His skinny little tail twitched. “I just think it’s not cool that no one looked out for you.”
“They’re busy I guess,” Lake shrugged. They were learning to fight or taking care of their own kits. She didn’t blame any of them for not having time for her.
“Well, here we take care of kittens,” Floodpaw said firmly, “no matter who they are.” Lake smiled and hid her nose in her paws shyly. Floodpaw laughed and stretched his big, long legs out in opposite directions. “Take a little nap, kid. I’ll keep watch.”
“Okay,” she said and yawned. She hadn’t realized how tired she was until he said something but now, with her belly full, she was eager to get some shut eye. Feeling very round and sluggish, she closed her eyes and quickly drifted off to sleep.
~~~
When Lake woke up it was very, very dark. She yawned and stretched and looked around, realizing that she was in a totally new place. She stiffened in fright. Where was she? The not knowing was scarier than any answer she could come up with.
She was in a large den made of dirt, it seemed, in a nest of soft green moss and feathers. It smelled faintly of other cats, cats she didn’t know.
Carefully, she got to her paws and crept towards the scent of night air, poking her head out to see a small grassy dip with a few other burrows tucked under big, grey stones. Three cats were sitting on top of a big, flat stone and talking softly. They didn’t seem dangerous so Lake ventured a bit further out to look around in wonder.
“Wowzers,” she breathed. Everything here smelled so fresh and green. She’d never experienced anything like it.
One of the cats, a dark blue bengal girl, perked up at the sound and looked her way. “Oh, hey! She’s awake!”
“Shh,” hushed a brown spotted tabby girl nervously.
“Right, sorry,” said the first girl, lowering her volume a bit. “Hey, girlie, how you feelin’?”
Lake realized she was supposed to answer and said, “I’m good. How did I get here?”
“They carried you in while you were sleeping,” said the third cat, a paler spotted tabby boy. Lake frowned. She had wanted to walk.
“I bet you’re pretty confused,” said the first girl. “Why don’t you come up here and sit with us? We can answer any questions you have.”
“Um, I’m okay,” said Lake. “Where’s the guy with the funny ears?”
“Huh?” asked the first girl.
The boy brightened in realization. “Oh, you mean Floodpaw.”
“Yeah!” Lake bounced. That was his name!
“He’s sleeping over there,” he said, pointing to one of the holes in the ground.
“Okay, thanks!” said Lake. She started towards the hole to go see him. The second girl breathed in sharply through her teeth and the first girl laughed.
The boy started to say, “Oh, uh, I don’t know if-” but the first girl interrupted him.
“Shh, let her be. It’ll be funny.”
Lake didn’t know what they were talking about but she didn’t let it bother her. She made her way into the den. Five cats were sleeping in their nests; two smaller ones were curled up together and Floodpaw and the other cats she had met were sleeping near each other but not so close that they were touching. Lake padded right up to Floodpaw and settled down against his side. He opened his eyes and lifted his head groggily, blinking at her a few times before he managed to speak.
“Hey, kid, what are you doing in here?” he mumbled hoarsely.
“Looking for you,” she whispered. “Why did you carry me? I wanted to walk.”
“Oh,” he said with a small groan. He swiped his tongue over his whiskers and rubbed an eye with his paw. “It was getting really late and I didn’t want to wake you. Sorry, kid.”
“Mmm, it’s okay,” she decided, purring. She wiggled down into his nest and closed her eyes again.
“Oh, uh…” he hesitated for a moment before eventually wrapping his tail around her and laying his head back down to sleep. Lake purred even harder. She’d missed sleeping next to somebody like this.
She hoped that wherever her mother was, she had found someone new to sleep beside too.
UPDATES:
- While on patrol with Barleypaw and Sparrowpaw, Floodpaw finds an abandoned kit named Lake and takes her back to camp.
#clan gen#clangen#warrior cats#warriors#warrior cats oc#warriors oc#clangen oc#clan gen oc#Floodpaw#Sparrowpaw#Barleypaw#Lake#Ospreymask#Branchbark#Aldertail#clangenrising
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(This one is a riff from an idea a reader suggested.)
SIX COORS LATER
Sean Bennett woke up a little groggy. He probably had a couple too many beers last night.
The ex-QB told himself he should be a more responsible man. His wife had just borne their third kid six months ago, fer chrissake. But Sean's job had him on the road every week during the college ball season, put up in one soulless luxury hotel room after another. He'd had an amazing run as an NFL quarterback, with some ups and downs to be sure, and now how had an enviable gig being a sports commentator for college ball. Saturday night, after the broadcast, was his chance to let loose a little.
Only Sean realized he wasn't in a hotel room. The ex-athlete's eyes adjusted to the early morning dimness. He was definitely in a bedroom. Some modern condo or apartment, sparsely decorated. A dude's bedroom.
Just then the sportscaster hunk felt the warmth of another body scoot up next to him, placing a thickly muscled forearm over Sean's still-fit and manscaped upper body.
"Hmmmm," came the deep voice cracking in morning voice. The dude scooted up next to him as Sean tried to remembered any details about the guy but was coming up short. Even on the name. Jason? Justin? Jesse? Jackson? Fuck.
The man felt nice. Probably around Bennett's age. Late 30s with a cross-fit body. A work-hard, play-hard professional. BIG Michigan fan. A very thick uncut cock and a sexual stamina that could go multiple rounds. Funny how those details were coming back to the ex-jock so easily.
Maybe it was that hard thick shaft pressing into Sean's hips and the way the fan's hand was pawing at Sean's hard body, even if in a groggy slowness.
"Hm... you probably should go soon, bro... my girlfriend gets back in town this morning."
Sean nodded, but didn't make a move to slip out of the guy's warm bed. Hell, those powerful arms felt SO good. Bennett enjoyed a man's touch from time to time, but he rarely stayed around for the morning, for the more sobered up experience of this. Just a second longer, he thought.
Thing was, Jackson or Justin or whoever wasn't letting go. His kisses traveled up Sean's neck, finding that sensitive trigger spot right behind Bennett's ear, the one that makes the ex-athlete wanna put out. Just like he'd found it so effortlessly last night.
"Yes," Sean hissed. It was only then that he was aware of his own cock, a shank of morning wood that jerked excitedly, now awake. And Jackson's hand was drifting down those washboard abs, over the trimmed light fur to finally touch that QB bone.
"You fuckin' horndog," the guy muttered with a clear lust. Then after he kissed that spot again, he added with a louder voice, "Turn over."
The two had fucked three times the previous night, twice in one go and once waking up at 3 in the morning. But they hadn't done this position. Without ceremony Jackson was crawling on top of Sean's prostrate body, kissing along the shoulder blades and then back at the neck. Sean could feel the guy's hard, hairier muscle on his back and that thick wedge of uncut dick press into his surprisingly wet ass cleft.
The top took a second to enjoy that mounting position before he reached down to guide his fat dong into place. "God, you're still wet with my cum," he said. His voice was clearer now, fully awake.
Sean blushed. He'd been a little drunk when he agreed to come back to Jackson's place, and he wished he was drunk now. At least his hole was loosened up, fully, for this thick tool. The first time Bennett had been shafted by a large cock was a mindblowing experience, but now he got excited by girth even more than length. And Jackson brought he girth.
It was now four solid inches inside him. The hunk was clearly excited, kissing Sean some more. "Bro... I used to jack off so much thinking about doing this to you," he said.
Then, all of a sudden, the top powered the rest of that fat prick into Sean's guts.
"FUCK!" Bennett exclaimed. Not in pain but definitely uncomfortable and surprised.
"You got this, bro," Jackson urged. Sean could tell from the edge in his voice he was eager just to start fucking, and that scared the ex-QB. "You took me like a pro last night."
"Give me a sec, OK?" Bennett pleaded.
"Yeah," came the reply. But a second later, Jackson was reaching over for something. The hand came back, right to Sean's face and it was the smell that made him recognize the poppers.
"Come on, bro," came the guy's voice. Urging Sean to sniff the fumes. "I need to pound one off real bad, and I don't got a lot of time."
One of these days Sean Bennett would learn self-respect. Today, he sniffed the amyl, one nostril then the other.
The heat hit his body just at the right time. Jackson liked to fuck hard and fast, using his whole muscled body. That thick tool was plunging in and out of Sean's guts and felt INTENSE. Only now it was intense in a good way, making the ex-jock's insides buzz.
"Fuck, that cunt is so squishy, man," Jackson hissed.
Indeed, they could both hear the sloshy slick sounds of each inward thrust and Sean could feel excess cum dripping down between his legs, and over his ball sac. Just that tickling trickle made Bennett rock hard against the guy's bedsheets. The bottom didn't know how much was the amount of cum Jackson had shot inside him last night and how much was the girth of the cock forcing the load out with each shove.
"Bro... you're milking it right out of me man... Gonna milk my load right out into that hot ass of yours.... oh SHIT!"
The heaving body went rigid on top of him, and Sean knew he was getting loaded up for the fourth time in 12 hours. He knew when the poppers wore off, he'd regret this. He'd gone cold turkey actually a few years back, and even when he started fooling with guys again, he told himself it would be more of an occasional thing.
And now he felt about 210 pounds of masculine dude rest the full body weight on his stretched out body. Jackson felt heavy, but Sean didn't want the guy to break body contact not yet. That fat dong was still jerking inside him, undoubtedly still shooting some dribbles deep up in him.
Finally the guy shifted on top of him but didn't push himself off. Instead, Jackson reached around to find Bennett's tool. Still rock hard and still leaking so much he didn't need lube.
"Aw fuck!" Sean gasped as he felt the hand stroke his prick. Combined with that very stuffed, very loaded feeling, the very touch of Jackson's hand was magic.
Sean heard a soft chuckle in his ear as the top leaned forward and jerked Sean with determined strokes. The dude had a great touch, for sure.
"Come on, bro," he urged. "You wanna..."
"Yeah," Sean replied. He wanted to. He wanted to let this hot stud play him like a violin. It was the opposite of sex with his wife, when he did all the work. Now, the QB was the penetrated one, passively worked over by a man who knew what he was doing.
The pissslit stung just a second once the cum barreled out, it was that kind of orgasm.
"Nice!" Jackson hissed and kissed Sean's neck once more. "Let it out, buddy."
Sean did. Maybe because he hadn't shot load for load with Jackson's orgasms, and he was behind in the count. Maybe because he loved his mounted position more than he wanted to admit.
He'd barely had time to come down from the high of his cum when that hand withdrew and that thick dong finally retreated from his clenched asshole, but not before dragging some of that fresh deposit with it.
Sean felt a pat to his rump and felt the bed shift as Jackson slid off the bed. His host walked over and undid the bedroom curtains, letting in the dawn light.
Slowly Bennett turned on his side to get a good look. He was embarrassed to realize he could barely remember what Jackson looked like. But he was getting a good look now. About 6-foot-even, handsome more than cute, thinning brown hair, blue eyes. Back in the day, Bennett liked the thrill of fucking around with big-league athletes and coaches, then he went through a phase of being into regular guys... fans, married men, guy next door types. Jackson was in a different league, with an incredible body yet still carried himself like a regular dude.
"God, you're hot," Sean said before his mind could censor what his libido was thinking.
That made Jackson paused and turn toward the NFL star. He let out a little laugh and smiled, "Man, you're a trip," he said.
From the new angle, Sean could see that hard muscle beneath the brown body fur, rounded and ripped, and just how thick and heavy that dong was, even soft, swaying beneath a large nutsac. If this dude wanted to go for round five...
"Your girlfriend is probably on her way," Sean said instead, injecting reality as he sat up in bed. He knew he had a great body, but could see in the way Jackson's eyes swept over his form that the top was definitely starstruck himself.
"Yeah," he said with a little sadness. "Her flight lands around 7."
Sean nodded. He wasn't gonna make trouble for this dude. He slid out of bed and felt proud as Jackson just watched, staring like a wolf circling the hen house.
As Sean got dressed, his host slipped on some gym shorts and walked out to the kitchen to make some coffee.
The ex-QB knew this was gonna be one hell of a walk of shame. Still suited up from the night before. His cohost and work buddy Curt Collins ould probably razz him for going home with one of those dudes from their bar outing.
But even as the regrets were sinking in, the sex had been worth it. Sean made sure he looked presentable and that he had everything. Then he walked to find Jackson shirtless and hunky as hell, drinking his coffee and scrolling through his phone.
The guy looked up with that look again. The look of a man who'd had his bucket list fantasy satisfied in the biggest way.
"She's in an uber now," he said. "You good, man?" he asked. Maybe worried Sean was freaking out some.
"Yeah," Bennett replied. "I'm good."
It was Jackson who seemed shy now. "Well..." he started. Then he picked up a folded scrap of paper and handed it to Sean. "In case you're back in town," he added. "It's my Google number, just be discreet."
"I usually don't," Sean said, taking the paper nonetheless.
"I get it," Jackson said. "Shoot your shot, right?"
That made Sean laugh. This guy was just a normal dude. He stuffed the paper into his suit pocket.
"A final kiss at least?" Jackson asked.
Sean smiled and stepped up. The dude was a few inches shorter but their heights matched well. Their kiss was soft and surprisingly sensual.
"I taste like stale beer," Sean apologized.
"Yeah you do," Jackson said with a smile. "It's cool though. You're a good kisser. We didn't do enough last night."
They kissed again.
"Fuck!" Jackson finally hissed. Sean knew why.
"All right," the athlete said. "Take care."
Sean was in the Uber back to his hotel before he pulled out the folded paper. The handwriting was simple and masculine, more neat than a scrawl. "Matt," it read. The phone number.
So that was his name, Sean thought.
He didn't know the next time he'd be in this city. Probably once next season, though maybe his travels would bring him here again. Maybe Matt would want to come to Ft. Lauderdale, or even Miami.
Doofus, he thought to himself. What the fuck was wrong with him? Sean took another look at that piece of paper then picked up his phone.
"Hey, great to meet you. SB." was all his message said. He typed it, looked it over, and hit Send.
No reply immediately. Matt was probably showering up, or washing the sheets. Maybe the girlfriend was already home.
Instead a text came in. Collins. "Tell me you had as much fun as I did last night." Sean couldn't remember who his buddy and colleague had chatted up. Maybe one of Matt's buddies. Hell, THAT could have been Jackson. Or Jason. Whatever.
"Probably more," he typed back with a grin. "What happens in Austin stays in Austin, right?"
"Right-O," Curt typed. "They grow 'em big down here in Texas dont they buddy?"
Sean smiled. His hole ached to think of Matt's huge dong. "They sure do man."
He'd find a way, any excuse, to come back before next year. Somehow.
He slid his phone in his pocket and shut his eyes just to rest them. He'd need a major nap on the plane ride for sure.
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♤♢ on the run ♧♡ | five
♤ summary: she's an infamous bank robber, and he's the only detective that's been able to get close to her. he was never apart of her plans. but he's got his clutches in her and she can't let go.a geto suguru au
♢ warnings: this story will contain descriptions of violence, destructive behavior, toxic behavior, illegal activities, sexual content, death. use of weapons. forbidden romance
♧ aw: character death (not mc), blood, violence, ooc toji,
♡ currently: completed
♤ taglist: closed
♢ wc: 2.3k
♧ carlile speaks: omg we have arrived at the end of Sugu and Ruby's story. Im not sure how some of you will react to this part but I'm excited to find out! thank you all so much for the love over the course of this story. this was my first post in the jjk fandom and I feel like I was welcomed with open arms. I love and appreciate every single one of you in this community I've built. thank you all again for deeming me worthy of your time! see you in the next story! ALSO a big thank you to @celestie0 for helping me with this final chapter. I would not have done it without you!
♡: previous part | you are here
Toji Fushiguro was your best friend. Or at least you thought he was. Toji was a contact you made when you were eighteen years old, fresh out of highschool and right after your parents had kicked you out. Claiming they don’t want to enable your lifestyle. Doing drugs with your friends, until the drugs no longer interested you. Then came the shoplifting. That’s where you shined. You could steal anything. Chanel. Prada. Louis V. Any of it. What can you say, you wanted the best of the best.
You’d been staying with some of your “friends” you’d made along the way. Friends who more so wanted you to live the life they were living; sitting at home getting high all day, but you wanted the action. You wanted to be in the trenches. Wanted the thrill of the job, not the fabricated thrill from the drugs. You wanted the real high.
Toji was someone you ran into at the right time, he needed someone to train to help with small bank heists and you needed somewhere new to stay.
Toji was there for you. He housed you, kept you fed. Kept you happy, in so many more ways than one. He gave you an immense amount of knowledge. How to keep your cool. How to handle a weapon. How to make yourself into a weapon.
“You are your biggest asset, use it.” rings in your ears during every job.
All of the hand to hand combat you’d learned was taught to you by him. He was the first person you’d ever unintentionally kicked their ass.
“Again,” he pants, wiping the blood from his nose on the back of his hand, a sick smile on his face. He flexes his hands before balling them back into fists, taking his standing position; arms up in front of his face.
“Toji,” you warn. “I think we got th–,” you start to object, but Toji isn't having any of that.
“Again.”
And so you do. You continuously knock this grown man to the floor. His eyes grow with adoration after every punch; every kick. He was so proud. Nobody was ever able to land a blow, much less knock him off his feet. But you were so quick and nimble, he was hardly able to keep track of you.
You’d originally only ever used masks and weapons to rob your banks, but when you met Toji your entire perception of the way you could do everything changed. He was the one who taught you to hide most of your face. Only leave behind minor details they can use. Always follow them into the room, never be the first. And always leave last.
Toji was beyond proud of you. That’s why when you’d met Sukuna and immediately fell for his charm, his attitude changed. He was less than thrilled. It wasn’t a shock to him that he’d fallen for you, but it wasn't something he’d planned on either. He thought you’d had the chemistry, but his timing was all off. You’d met Sukuna. He didn’t anticipate someone else scooping you up the way he wanted to. Toji wanted everything with you, he was training you to be able to reign with him, not somebody else. Toji needed a way to be close to you, so he became Sukuna’s right hand. His business partner. Working his ass off to get the position he’s in now. Practically kissing Sukuna’s ass in order to be near you. Taking job after stupid job to prove himself worthy.
If only Toji had been honest with you from the start.
Sukuna was greedy. He had everything but needed more. Craved it even. Then he met you and needed to have you too.
But you showed him up. Toji had trained you beyond what anyone had ever seen before. You made Sukuna feel small; and that just wasn’t going to fly. Sukuna wanted you to keep his bed warm more than anything since he found out you were more skilled than him. Sukuna tried his best to kill your spirit; slowly of course. Taking you off of jobs, telling you that your skillset wasn't as good as others and you were not needed anymore. He tried distracting you with money and shopping sprees that worked for a while, but you eventually run out of things to buy when you have the access to buy anything you want. He even made sure to make you question your own physical appearance by slyly flirting with other members of his team in front of you; then gaslighting you into thinking you were seeing things.
Toji held you when you cried to him. He’d smooth his hands up and down your back as you sobbed into his chest. How he’d wish you would see how terribly you were being treated. But if sukuna found out he was speaking ill of him, he'd be dealt with. So he held out for as long as he could, but you were the first one to break. You wanted to leave and live a life of your own. Toji was so happy for you, but wanted that life with you. He’d never told you any of these things, in fear of rejection from you and in fear of retaliation from his now boss.
Toji wishes you’d never introduced him to Sukuna. Toji wishes you’d be his. Toji’s world fell apart when he found out you were making beds with a cop. The actual enemy. He thought you’d be smarter than that.
When Sukuna informed Toji of his plan to execute you for treason, he was terrified. But he couldn't say anything. He couldn't risk losing everything he’d built, especially now knowing you’d never felt the same way about him. He assumes so anyways, claiming it was the safe assumption.
Toji knew something had gone amiss the day Sukuna went to finish the job and he hadn’t returned. Toji was prepared to take over no questions asked. He began making changes in command, having conversations with his chain when there was word of disturbances in the hall.
Once the police bore into the casino penthouse, aiming straight for Toji, he knew exactly who he was dealing with when he looked into Suguru’s eyes as he stared him down behind the barrel of his gun.
“Toji Fushiguro, you are under arrest for the murder of Ryomen Sukuna. You have the right to remain silent…” Satoru speaks from his spot in the middle of the room, gun raised at the man seated before him.
“So, you’re the one, huh?” Toji speaks over Satoru, nodding his head at Suguru.
“What?” Suguru lowers his gun momentarily.
“You’re the one she fell for,” Toji laughs from his chair. He swirls the whiskey around in his glass before he stands, raising his hands into the air. “I didn't do this, but I’ll go down so she doesn't have to.”
Satoru walks behind him to place the cuffs around his wrists.
“You loved her too.” Suguru states. “Didn’t you?”
Toji just smiles as Satoru walks him out in his cuffs. He did. He loved you more than anything else on this planet. But he’d rather you live the life you wanted than stand in your way. It’s why he helped you leave Sukuna before. He knew you didn’t see him in that same light and he was okay with that. He was just happy to see you happy.
Suguru felt bad at that moment, but he knew he’d keep that information to himself.
The copious amounts of forged documents, planted evidence, fake witness statements.. There was no doubt in anyone's mind that Toji wasn't the one who killed Sukuna. Everything made it seem like Toji was tired of being second in command and wanted it all.
Toji would take whatever punishment was coming his way; he knew this was your doing. He knew you’d be broken once you found out he hadn’t attempted to stop Sukuna. Toji was supposed to be your safe haven, and he let you down. He knew that. So he was prepared to take whatever you thought was a suitable punishment for him. He’d kneel on the ground you walked on if it meant making you smile. Especially since the guilt ate him up inside for never standing up for you earlier. He swears he’d do anything to make you happy, but he cowers away when you actually need him. Toji knew he was a coward. He knew he could have done something earlier but he didn’t.
Toji was convicted and placed on death row for the murder of Sukuna. The revenge plan you had set in motion had come to a head, you just had to do this one last job and then the life you planned with Suguru would be in the palm of your hand.
Toji’s son was your last target; you tracked him for weeks while you located the item in question: Toji’s unsealed will.
The will contains everything you would need. The numbers to multiple offshore accounts with millions of dollars. The deeds to houses spread throughout the world. Everything his kids would need beyond his lifeline.
Seventy seconds. In and out.
Suguru is outside waiting for you. Something you’re not used to. But the sense of security feels nice for once. Every job before this one you’d done alone. Having the man you’re willing to risk everything for waiting for you while you perform the most important job of your life has every nerve alight with anticipation, and also relief; Knowing he’d be there if something went wrong. Your heart could burst out of your chest in appreciation for him.
Satoru is down the street, handling the signal blocker for the alarm at the bank. Intercepting the signal is the easy part, but keeping it down for seventy seconds is the hard part. But Satoru isn't worried.
The bank manager approaches you with keys in hand, “Safety deposit room, right?” the man timidly asks. His question throws you off momentarily. Your smug smile falls as he speaks.
“How’d you know that?” you ask, reaching for your gun.
“Stop, Ruby. We’re playing by my rules from now on.” Satoru’s voice startles you from behind.
“Satoru, you’re making a huge mistake right now,” you warn, your hands remaining where he can see them.
“The only ones making mistakes are you and Geto.”
“He’ll be in here once he realizes I’m taking too long. You know that as much as I do.”
“Oh, I'm counting on it,” he sneers, “Now, turn around and face me.”
You hear the sound of his gun click, making you chuckle.
“I don’t need his help anyways,” you duck down and sweep your feet under his legs, catching him off guard and making him tumble backwards onto the floor. A big cracking sound fills the air as his head makes contact with the hard floor. “I can handle myself, you should have known that, Satoru.”
The few onlookers in the bank unsure of what to do, the silent alarm still won’t trigger.
Satoru looks up at you from his spot on the floor, a ringing in his ears from how hard his head collided with the marble. “You won’t get away with this,” he pants out in pain, clutching the back of his skull. His gun. He needed his gun. Where? Where did it end up? His head just hurts and that’s all he can focus on. His GUN, whERE IS IT? Satoru, where is y–
“I already did,” and with that you leave him laying there, your gaze serving as a warning as you pull the bank manager in the direction of the safety deposit room. He opens exactly what you want; no questions asked.
Unfortunately, you decided no loose ends this time. The bank manager met his fate inside the safety deposit room. He begged, but only for a minute. This wasn’t like you. Look what love did to you. Love and betrayal. Everyone you had ever loved betrayed you. But not Suguru.
Never Suguru.
Sounds of fighting pull your train of thought from the lifeless man in front of you. Making a swift exit with the paperwork tucked into your jacket, you head for the source of the sound.
“What are you doing, Satoru? This isn’t what we agreed on,” Suguru groans from their wrestling spot on the floor. Arms are being pinned, yanked free and then pinned again. The men fight to get the upper hand.
“I told you that I took an oath to stand up to people like you and her. This isn't a game, Geto. Don't you see that?”
Suguru stops for a moment, looking at his friend while he processes the words leaving his mouth.
“Sugu,” you call from your position, gun raised and pointed directly at the white haired man before you.
“Now, Ru!” he calls to you, turning Satoru’s upper body so his back faces you. There’s silence. So much silence that follows the shot. Suguru looks at his friend beneath him with tears in his eyes. The hurt and betrayal laced behind every feature. The life leaves Satoru’s eyes as the men lock their gazes. “I told you, you won’t take her from me.”
He stands from his spot, walking over to you.
“Are you okay?” he asks, looking you over.
“Fine. You?” you rush out. He nods quickly. “We need to go, now,” you grab hold of one of his hands, pulling him towards the exit.
“You know we’re about to be on the run for the rest of our lives together?”
“Are you complaining?” he asks from the driver's side, sunglasses pushed atop his head as he weaves his way through the mountainous roads.
“Of course not. Never when it's with you.”
“I love you, Ru.”
“I love you more, Sugu.”
♡ tags: @celestie0 @lostfracturess @alwaysfreakingout @shervinss @jaelahh @gojolvrr34 @shesplendl @phoenix-eclipses @nanasukii28 @mylifetold @bakuhoethotski @4y3sh4 @whereflowerswenttodie @drakenswifeyy
#geto suguru#geto x reader#getou suguru x reader#jjk geto#geto smut#jjk suguru#suguru geto smut#geto x y/n#geto suguru x you#suguru geto x reader#geto x you#suguru geto x you#geto suguru smut#geto suguru x reader
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imagine if the shen family was actually a part of the mafia. and shen yuan just never knew.
like his Family is rich and they are all super close. he’s even in contact with some of his distant relatives pretty often, which is kinda cool for him, he’s sure that this isn’t the case for most families so he considers himself lucky to know the extent of his family tree. sure, some of them seem to have lost a marble or two but what family doesn’t have a couple oddballs in their midst, you know?
and its not just sy’s comical obliviousness that contributes to this. his family is well aware that sy is not suited for this life style- especially his siblings. they grew up watching him get himself into all sorts of weird situations and putting himself at a disadvantage simply because he’s too nice. he can try and deny it all he wants (just like how he denies he’s gay- c’mon sy everyone can tell you are not straight) but his sense of justice would only burden him if he were to work for the Family. not to mention his sense of self preservation is absolute shit and they don’t want to have to babysit him his whole life- and he probably doesn’t want that either!
so they send him off to college, help him find an apartment, and basically do everything they can to help him start off on his own, away from the Family. his siblings had to do a whole lot of convincing to let this happen btw- this kind of thing usually isn’t allowed, but sy doesn’t know anything that could be used against the Family, so they make an exception in his case. better for them to not have a deadweight sticking around either is what they say but they all dote on him anyways and refuse to admit they care about him. sy definitely picked up this line of reasoning from them btw.
shen yuan is a little upset and confused that his Family seems eager to send him off (it’s not like they can’t afford for him to live with them after all- both of his older brothers still live in the Family’s massive house and even his aunts and uncles are living there??). he manages to recover quickly though. at least now he can read his web novels in piece without prompting any dick jokes (his cousins had a field day when they found his account with all of his pidw comments…). now he just needs to figure out how to live by himself.
it’s not that sy is incapable of taking care of himself- it’s just that he’s so used to having other people with him that he never understood how much they were doing for him until they were no longer around. but that’s fine, living on your own is just another learning curve and sy is willing to rise up to the challenge. which he did, by the way! he found a job and pays his taxes and even though that isn’t much he still gives himself a mental pat on the back for it. he is still in contact with his siblings, he never misses an update for pidw which he totally doesn’t get excited for and his life is going great.
……until he accidentally eats some expired food and dies.
#and the Family thinks that someone assassinated him#but his siblings know that he rlly was just too careless TT#not sure if someone has done this already but here#shen yuan mafia au#except its not??? technically????#imagine sqq and sqh are forced back into the modern world and airplane is like wtf. wdym you were this rich this whole time.#and it clicks for him immediately that sy’s family is involved in organized crime#sketchy recognizes sketchy. airplane was never a fan of commiting felonies but living another life as sqh gave him that sixth sense#or smth like that idfk lol#something something sy/sqq has always needed a chaperone cause hes so fucking reckless#first it was his siblings and now its lbh lqg mf yqy and that doctor guy i forgot his acronyms rip#svsss#svsss au#scum villian self saving system#scumbag self saving system#scum villain's self saving system#scum villain#scumbag system#ren zha fanpai zijiu xitong#shen qingqiu#shen yuan#airplane shooting towards the sky#mxtx svsss#svsss ideas#svsss shitpost#also i keep seeing different things about how sy died..?#because when i first read svsss i thought he died in a fit of rage#but then ppl said that he choked on his food while finishing pidw#and then i heard other things about how he ate expired food???? like a bao bun or a dumpling or ramen idk#so i decided to go with expired food cause lbh would NEVER let him die like that lol
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Asking some writers/artists I follow:
Is there anything in your fic/comic that you as the author know about, but won't end up in the actual story?
So I have a rather uh disorganized way of telling the story of the TSAU, I jump back and forth in the timeline quite a bit depending on what part of the story I wanna tell. Overall I improvise quite a bit, and because of that I can't be 100% sure what will be depicted in the story and what wont. But I might as well share some little tidbits of lore that are probably not gonna be mentioned in the main story (though they still might who knows lol)
So uh. April and Kendra are exes. Kinda. They were pretty close friends when they were younger and decided to become a couple when they were like 9 or something. This lasted for a grand total of.... 2 days, maybe? Then they had a huge fight about something silly like, I dunno, Kendra hacked April's tamagotchi as a prank and she got mad so they broke up and they've had major beef ever since.
Draxum made Mikey wear some type of artifact or gear that supressed his mystic powers as a kid for his own safety. Mikey started showing an incredible talent for the mystic arts at a very young age. Draxum was excited about this for all of 5 seconds before realizing that Mikey is a VERY small child with NO impulse control and he's definetily gonna turn himself and the rest of the family into glitter unless Draxum finds a way prevent that from happening until Mikey has the chance to develop an understanding of consequences. (He's learned to control his powers well enough to not need them by the time of the main-story, so he no longer wears the supressors)
Donnie's whole villain-act he puts on is partially a coping mechanism. He grew up never knowing anyone like himself (unless you count Splinter, I suppose) so the only times he saw himself represented in anything was characters in comics and shows and such. There were plenty of anthropomorphic reptile characters in the media he consumed, and Donnie clunged to anyone or anything that he could at least somewhat relate to. Problem is, a lot of these anthro reptiles were like.... y'know... villains. It's pretty common for super heroes and stuff to fight evil mutant reptile creatures, and even stories with only anthro characters reptiles tend to be charactarized as more villainous. Granted, turtles specifically usually don't get this treatment, but it still had quite an effect on Donnie as a little kid that most characters similar to him would be viewed as evil, which caused him to internalize that mindset. So turtle tot Donnie basically went like "Yes! This is what I am! A villain in someone else's story! It all makes sense now! This is a healthy mindset to have!" and just kinda embraced the role that human society had given to him because he didn't really know how else to deal. (Things changed after meeting April and he found out that there might actually be humans out there who might treat him like a person and not just a freak of nature! He still plays into the villain-persona, partially for fun and partially as a coping thing, but he doesn't have nearly as a negative view of himself now as he did as a tot)
And last, but certainly not least................ Draxum owns a Lou Jitsu body pillow (PURELY for research-purposes, NO other reason!)
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Big Sky Country - ch. 1
Cowboy!Frankie x OFC
Hi!
I'm really excited to post the first chapter of my new fic after posting a little snippet of it almost a month ago! In it we meet a cowboy version of Frankie as he returns to New York to patch things up with his "maybe girlfriend", but he also makes a connection with another woman, who makes this lost cowboy feel welcome in her Brooklyn bar.
No age gap, OFC story, angsty as fuck in parts, some smut, and I'm putting poor Frankie through hell again (I love him, I swear...)
And a big shout out and thank you to @i-own-loki who made the beautiful banner!
Warnings can be found here - contains spoilers but please read if you know certain themes may be upsetting for you. This fic is dark in parts and I don't want to upset anyone.
Series Master List
Main Master list
Prologue
The Greyhound bus rumbled away down the pin straight highway, heading west, towards the darkening mountain range. The sun slowly sank behind the highest peaks, soon their shadows would touch her feet. Looking back, east, towards a past she’d left on a whim, she sighed and let her eyes drift up to the indigo sky. Big sky country indeed.
So alien to her eyes, so open to someone used to living their life surrounded by tall buildings, busy people, small trees in small parks.
Here, the open prairie gave speed to the cold wind that hurtled down from the mountain range, whipping dirt from the road, tugging at her loose hair. She briefly closed her eyes against the particles of dust, inhaled deeply, tasting it on her tongue, dry grass in the air, a hint of snow from the mountains. No way back now, the bus too far away to stop. Only her duffel bag and a phone number, hoping he’d pick up and let her in.
He pressed his thumb to the button with her name, the taxi behind him rolling away down the crowded street. The buzz from the intercom added another layer of noise to the assault on his ears.
He dropped his hand.
Waited.
Glanced down the street, letting the tall steel and glass buildings pull his gaze upwards, to the thin sliver of dirty gray sky visible above them. With a sigh he dropped his eyes down, towards the end of the long street, where the buildings seemed to merge into one solid wall. He knew he was looking west, could feel it in his bones, in the way his feet wanted to start walking towards it. Towards the tall mountain range behind his home.
He pressed his thumb against the button with her name on it again, the buzzer grated his skin. He had a way back, nothing stopping him from hailing a cab, climbing back on the Greyhound and heading west again.
But she’s here. If he wanted to make this work, he needed to be here.
Chapter One
A wall of warm air hit Frankie as he pulled open the door to the bar, chatter spilling out onto the street. His shoulders pulled up to his ears, the environment uncomfortable to him and he stopped just inside the door, scanning the room for something familiar apart from the smell of stale beer in the air. This bar was the first one he saw that looked like it would maybe serve someone like him, a Texas boy, fresh off the bus from Montana. He’s pretty sure he still has horse dung stuck to the bottom of his cowboy boots, his old army duffel bag slung over his shoulder.
The door behind him opened again, cold air hitting the nape of his neck under the ball cap.
“You growing roots, old man?”
The line is followed by a man snorting and a hand on Frankie’s arm, pushing him to the side. He would snap, bite back with a threatening remark, or at the very least fix the man with his most intimidating soldier scowl. But he just took two steps to the side, his shoulders creeping closer to his ears as he tugged at his cap, the movement unintentional, a nervous habit. He knew he was out of place here, a stranger.
The young man, a yellow backpack slung over his shoulder and long hair pulled into a bun, shoved his way past Frankie, catching the eye of the woman behind the bar.
“Hey, dickwad! Behave yourself or I’ll have you barred,” she barked, her eyebrows furrowed as she jabbed her finger at the man and he raised his hands in a weak gesture of apology as he sauntered towards the bar.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he snarked, heading towards a loud crowd further in, walking away and ignoring the frown from the woman. She turned her attention to Frankie instead and looked him up and down, an appraising look, before meeting his eyes.
“You coming or going, cowboy?”
“Uuh..coming,” he managed to press out, picking up his feet and walking to the bar. He felt heat creep up his neck at being so easily pegged as a cowboy, an out of towner, swallowing down the urge to turn on his heel and bolt out the door. He rubbed his hand over the back of his neck and the woman behind it gave him a smile, setting down a coaster with a flick of her wrist.
“What can I get you? You look like you’ve traveled far.”
“Just a beer, thanks,” he said and she gave him a softer smile, pity flashing across her face.
“This is Brooklyn, cowboy, I’ve got twenty beers on tap and forty in bottles,” she said and he felt fatigue set in, can’t even order a normal fucking beer in this city. He sighed deeply, dropping his head between his shoulders. But the woman just chuckled in a low voice, tapping her hand on the bar just in front of him.
“Don’t despair, I’m a good bartender, I know what you’ll like.”
He picked up his head as she stepped away, grabbed a glass and moved to a tap further down the bar. Shooting him a quick grin she began to pull the pint, amber liquid filling the glass, topping off with a creamy white head. He watched her from under the bill of his cap, shouldn’t really appraise her, but he can’t help it. The fitted jeans on her curves, and the faded bar uniform shirt tied at the waist instead of tucking it in, made his eyes drop down over her ass in a way a man trying to save his relationship with another woman should avoid. And she clocked him checking her out when she turned towards him again, making him snap his eyes to his hands on the bar. Heat crept up his neck as he rubbed the small bullseye tattoo next to his thumb.
“Amber ale from a local brewery three blocks from here,” she said and placed the pint on the mat in front of him.
“Thanks,” he replied, watching the bubbles rise to the bottom of the head, “looks good.”
“One of my favorites, I’ve always had a soft spot for amber ale,” she nodded, picking up a cloth and returning to the never ending duty of cleaning glasses.
Frankie picked up the glass and took a long sip, humming as the ale slipped down his throat.
“Damn,” he said, “that’s good, that’s really good.”
“Told you,” the woman smiled at him and he gave her a quick smile in return before he took another sip.
She watched him from the corner of her eye as she moved around the bar, clean glasses getting wiped and stacked. Clearly a newcomer to the city, she’d called him ‘cowboy’ and he hadn’t protested, the boots and the duffel bag giving him away, even before she saw his uneasy eyes roam around the bar and his nervous shuffle. She’s used to assessing anyone who steps in through the door, the loud ones, the quiet ones, the ones who are only coming to make trouble.
This man was one of the quiet ones, she doesn’t think he’s loud even when he’s in his own element, surrounded by friends.
As he took another long drink from his pint, she turned and picked up glass, catching his eyes on her. She smiled warmly at him, wanting to make him feel welcome, at least in this bar. The city outside is usually brutal to newcomers, and this one seems to carry more of a burden than most.
“So you’re new to the city?” she asked him, moving back to his side of the bar, pushing long strands of ginger red hair back behind her ears before wiping another glass.
“Yeah, came in on the bus a few hours ago,” he replied and she nodded. He doesn’t look like he flew into the city, he’s got the tired face of someone who's spent too many hours leaning against a window, watching the Midwest slip past. But underneath the tired eyes there’s a warmth, a softness in the way he gives her a small crooked smile that makes a dimple appear on his right cheek.
“Spent two fucking days on it,” he sighed, rubbing a large hand over is face before he lifted his cap and swept his thick curls back. She’s temporarily mesmerized by how they bounce back around his ears as he squashes the cap back down.
“Two days? Where did you come from, Texas?” she asked, her eyes widening at the thought of spending two whole days on a bus, but he shook his head.
“No, I think Texas is like three days, I came from Montana,” he took another long drag of his beer.
“I’m guessing this isn’t a weekend trip then”, she quipped, putting down the cloth, all the glasses done, and leaned back on the counter behind her. There’s more work to be done but the stranger chuckled softly at her joke and it pulled her in, making her smile in return.
“No, I’m here to stay with someone, my..ah-a friend, of sorts,” he said, “Gonna see if I can find some work around here, try a different type of life.”
“What do you do?” she asked, “Maybe I know someone who knows someone, that’s usually how it works here.”
“Back in Montana I work with horses, on a ranch,” he replied, rubbing his thumb over the condensation on the beer glass, “Before that, I was a mechanic, cars, helicopters, anything really, I can usually fix it.”
“That’s a pretty handy skill,” she replied, sounding impressed and he gave a little shrug, as if the ability to fix helicopters was something inconsequential, “I’m sure you’ll find work, especially if you can fix old cars, lots of those around here.”
She turned and grabbed a notepad from next to the till, “What’s your name and number? I’ll keep it on hand and ask around for you.”
“Really?” He sounded surprised as he sat up a bit straighter, “Uh yeah, I’m Frankie, Frankie Morales.”
“Nice to meet you, Frankie,” she smiled back at him and slid the notepad across the bar, “Write it down, and your number. I can’t promise anything, and I’m not recommending you to anyone, I’ll just let them know you’re looking for work.”
“Yeah, sure, of course, but anything helps,” he replied, grabbing the pen and jotting down his information.
“What’s your name?” he asked, as he passed the notepad back to her.
“Aisling,” she replied, slipping it in next to the till again.
“Do you own this place,” he asked, looking around the bar. When he looked back at her she was shaking her head.
“No, not at all, I’m just the bartender,” she said, “Give me a minute, I’m just gonna serve these guys.” She gave him a quick smile and headed down the bar to two men who had just sat down.
Frankie watched her as she took their orders, smiling and laughing easily as she pulled a beer for one of them. The men, her age, are both hanging on to her every word as she makes a joke, the blonde one clapping the other one on the shoulder with a loud howl. She winked at him and turned, reaching for a bottle on the top shelf to serve the other man. As she stood on her tiptoes, stretching to reach, her shirt rose up, a soft sliver of creamy skin exposed in the dim light of the bar. Frankie couldn’t help but stare at the glimpse black underwear peeking out above the edge of her jeans, a flash of lace, his mouth suddenly dry as his cock reacted. He dipped his head, but couldn't keep his eyes away, she swayed on her tiptoes, refusing to get the stepladder and her breasts pressed against the shirt as it rode up higher. Frankie had an image of her underneath him, all that soft flesh, warm and smooth under his rough palms, sweet smelling and whimpering.
She managed to slide the bottle off the shelf and grab a glass. Frankie peeled his eyes away, looking down at the now empty pint in his hands, pressed his thumb into the tattoo, forcing his thoughts in another direction. At the end of the bar, Aisling rang up the customers’ order and wiped down the bar before coming back towards him.
“Do you want another?” she asked, nodding towards the empty glass. Frankie considered it for a beat and then shook his head. He wanted a clear head when he went back to the apartment, he needed to say the right things to save the relationship with the woman who lived there. He already knew that not even in his head could he bring himself to call her ‘girlfriend’, he’s far from sure that’s what she is anymore, not with the way they left it.
“No, I can’t,” he said, “It was good though, what do I owe you?”
“Fourteen fifty,” Aisling replied and he tried not to cough at the price as he pulled his wallet from the back of his jeans.
She took his bills and he left her a tip on the bar that she deposited in the tip jar with a smile.
“Uhm…tell me,” Frankie said, absentmindedly tugging at his cap, “Do I really look that much like a cowboy?”
Aisling’s smile softened as she heard his nervous question, “Well…yeah, the cowboy boots are kinda a give away,” she replied, “It doesn’t exactly look like it’s a fashion choice, and the whole jeans, suede jacket, belt buckle look…” She motioned over his body as Frankie’s eyes dropped down to his jeans and belt, hidden from view by the counter.
“You’re good,” he said, a small chuckle escaping him, “You got all that just from when I came in?”
“Tricks of the trade,” she replied, “I need to know who steps into the bar and read them quickly.”
“So you assessed me as soon as I walked in? What else did you pick up on?” He was curious now and leaned forward on the counter as she laughed.
“Well, I’m cheating because we’ve been talking for a bit now. But you do look ‘new in town’ and I’d say ex-army maybe?”
“I guess the duffel bag gave it away?” Frankie smiled, glancing down at the old bag at his feet.
“No, they’re ten dollars at the army surplus stores,” Aisling replied, shaking her head, “But you sat down with your back against a corner, and I bet you can tell me exactly where the exits are and how many people are in here and which ones could give you trouble.”
Frankie raised his eyebrows in surprise at her and she shrugged.
“You’ve been scanning the room since you walked in.”
“Yeah, you’re not wrong,” he replied, letting his eyes roam across the room again, it’s instinct at this point, inherited from years in the army, “I quit the army years ago but it’s a habit I can’t seem to drop.”
“What did you do? Mechanic?” Aisling asked and Frankie shook his head.
“Helicopter pilot, which means I had to be able to fix anything, but mainly I flew things, anything really.”
Aisling gave him a closer second look and the pieces fell into place, his quiet demeanor, the way he held himself, not exactly folded in on himself, but as if he was trying to stay unseen and not be noticed unless he wanted to be. A strong, solid body gone slightly soft with age, betrayed by the gray in his beard and hair, small white scars across his knuckles, evidence of old injuries. A strong, solid body gone slightly soft with age, betrayed by the gray in his beard and hair, small white scars across his knuckles, evidence of old injuries.
“What?” he asked as he noticed her eyes scanning him.
“Just building the picture,” she said, a small crooked smile, “You know us bartenders, always trying to figure out the story of our patrons.”
“Not much of a story,” he said, tugging at his cap and hiding his eyes, “just new in town, looking for work.”
“Everyone has a story, Frankie Morales.”
He shrugged at that and fumbled for his phone as it began to ring. Aisling gave him a quick smile and stepped away to let him answer in private.
Frankie’s jaw ticked as he saw the name on the screen, Eva. He’s been expecting her to call since he left her front door. Their front door, maybe. The truth is, he doesn’t know where they stand anymore. They’d met in Florida, after a doomed mission to South America that left so much pain inside him, and a rift between old friends. She’d been a calming presence, someone who seemed to have his back when his mind spiraled out of control. But she hadn’t been enough, being in Florida became oppressive, and it wasn’t just the humid heat. The old haunts from the days he’d spent trying to numb his brain with white powder, bars and venues filled with memories of the friends he’d lost, both those who’d died and those who still lived, it all became claustrophobic.
When Herb, his sponsor at the NA, first invited him to the ranch in Montana he’d scoffed at the idea. He was a pilot, not a ranch hand. But after a close call, nearly falling back into the habit, he’d taken him up on the offer and gone out there for two weeks. Herb had convinced him by talking about the clear, cool air making it easy to breathe, the open sky making the mind feel less claustrophobic. And he’d been right. The first evening they’d sat on the porch, the mountains at their back, the open prairie in front, and Frankie had looked up at the endless sky and it was almost as if he was back in a cockpit, flying close to the stars. Nothing encroached on his mind, no buzz in his ears, nothing tugged at his memories, just the open sky and an endless horizon.
The two weeks of hard ranch work, aching muscles, blistered hands, sealed the deal. If he wanted to truly start over, he needed to leave Florida and come here.
Eva had been enthusiastic at first, pulled in by Frankie’s talk of the horses, a new foal that had just been born, the small cabin they’d live in. He’d shared the pictures he’d taken, all rustic beams, sturdy wood furniture and a hammock on the porch. It looked like a romantic western dream and that’s what they both really thought it would be. And for the first few months they were happy.
But when Frankie found peace and calm in the solitude of the isolated ranch, felt free and unrestricted, she began to feel claustrophobic and suffocated. The nearest town, a forty-five minute drive away, didn’t offer much of anything. She found work online and began to resent the life he’d trapped her in. That was the word she’d used, trapped. When the fights became a daily occurrence, Frankie felt the familiar itch of wanting to escape come back. Starting, as always, in his feet and crawling up his body until he spent more time out on the ranch than in the cabin. And for every hour he stayed away, Eva resented their life more, resented him more.
Until eventually, one late evening when he came back after five days on the trails with a group of guests from a neighboring ranch, she’d left. Only a note saying she’d accepted a position in New York with the company she worked for. A line about needing a different type of life, no invitation to come with her, to follow her, just signed /E and that was it.
He’d called her, spent hours on the phone when she eventually picked up, begged her to come back. Offered to move to a ranch closer to a bigger town, find a compromise where he could still have the peace of the ranch life, but let her live her life too. But she loved New York, after the silent cabin, she craved the noise and the tempo of the city.
Eventually he agreed to come to New York, to see her new life and maybe find a place in it. But the city was an assault on his senses after so long on the ranch. The peace that his spiraling mind had finally found evaporated as he navigated the city, the metro, her friends, the bars. His feet itched, the skin around his nails was picked raw and he felt on edge, even in the apartment, his mind never getting a chance to be quiet.
Eva called it his need for control, to always have a plan of escape, a way out. He knew it was the years in the army that had shredded his sense of safety, left his nerves ragged and too exposed to the mundane background noise of a city. Maybe he’d be able to deal with it some day, but now, he needed the silence.
After two months in Brooklyn, he left. A loose promise from both of them to maybe try to patch things up, to try the long distance thing. But when he sent a text, saying he’d returned safely to the ranch, and she didn’t reply for two days, he knew it was over. And he didn’t miss her. He had loved her at some point, he thinks. But their lives didn’t match, their needs too different. And he saw that he should maybe not be with anyone while he laid down the foundations of a new life in a new place. He needed to find a way to live with himself, in silence, before he considered sharing his darkest sides with someone else.
And then Eva called. Six weeks after he’d left Brooklyn. He could hear the heavy traffic behind her as she walked down a street somewhere, leaving a clinic that had confirmed what she’d suspected.
“I’m pregnant, Frankie, and it’s yours.”
The words floored him, sent a sharp jolt of dread through his system, his feet tingling, then his scalp. A baby. In New York. But his baby, their child. And the dread was replaced by nerves, how would they do this? Would she want to raise the baby in New York or come back to Montana? He had space for a child here, a guest bedroom with a view of the mountains. It would be a perfect nursery, he could paint it, build a crib with Herb’s help, the nearby town was a good place to raise a family when the child was old enough to begin school. Without even stopping to think, he built a new life around the unborn child.
Or hell, even New York, he’d make himself put up with New York if that was what she wanted. The apartment only had one bedroom but maybe they could move further out, get a bigger place. He could renovate pretty much anything, he was sure of it. Maybe they could find a quiet neighborhood with trees, where his mind could find peace even in the city. Without even stopping, he built another new life around his, their, unborn child.
“I don’t know if I’m keeping it, but I wanted to tell you.”
Eva’s voice had been hard, letting him know that she was doing him a favor by telling him, letting him be part of it.
“I’ll come to New York, I’ll get a bus today,” Frankie pleaded, “Let’s talk this through, a few more days won’t make a difference.”
She’d conceded, and he’d thrown stuff into the old duffel bag, left a message with Herb, and driven to the crossroads where the Greyhound stopped.
Now he was here, in a Brooklyn bar, looking down at her name on his phone as he pressed the green button to answer.
Chapter 2
A/N: And we're off! I'm so nervous, I really hope you all will love this and follow along as I explore this new version of Frankie! I hope to post a new chapter every Sunday so fingers crossed life doesn't get in the way too much!
❤
Tagging the ususal suspects: @harriedandharassed @inept-the-magnificent @sheepdogchick3 @readingiskeepingmegoing @noisynightmarepoetry @survivingandenduring @vabeachazn @amyispxnk @oberynslady @vabeachazn @amyispxnk @thewiigers @laughing-in-th3-purple-rain @casa-boiardi
#frankie morales#pedro pascal character fanfiction#pedro pascal#frankie morales fanfic#triple frontier
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MIGUEL O'HARA x reader (18+, smut) MDNI
firefighter AU🧑🚒🔥🚒
Art credit: @kit-and-wolfe on Tumblr
Summary: You and Miguel are dating and he had hidden from you that he took part to a fireman’s calendar.
Notes: Just a silly idea I got from seeing multiple great firefighter Aus and a conversation with I had with @lazyjellyfish300 about Miguel! firefighter getting flustered. This story is a direct continuation of this post.
Tags: smut, F/M, AU, Firefighter AU, cunnilingus, PIV penetration, established relationship, fingering, no plot just smut, horny FMC, dirty talk (may be cringe), mention of masturbation (F/M), aftercare, breast and nipple play, hint at size kink, discussion around contraception
Word count: 3858 words
April was now your favorite month of the year. Most people would think that it was because you were excited about the upcoming Spring, the Sun in the sky and all those things, or maybe it was your birthday’s month. But you were unfortunately more pragmatic.
No, it was simply that the picture on your calendar for this month was to die for. Lying on glazed paper, in A4 format, a hand on his hip and his helmet on the other a tall, stupidly handsome man was looking at the camera with a bedroom look in his eyes. Firefighters have never been your thing, and you even considered it weird that a whole profession could be fetishized in a way or another but...that was different. You had to admit that you kind of see the appeal of it now. Honestly, this man could be anything else than a firefighter and you would probably still get the hots while looking at his picture.
Abs for days, rock hard chest with the right amount of thick, curly black hair that lazily trailed down toward a mouth-watering happy trail (that could only let you presume of a thick, happy bush), the infamous V-line that made his hips dip sensually under oily skin… Well, they really went all out with this picture. It was probably a bit edited but still...They even left his five o’clock shadow and the scar on his left arm. Good. Very good. That’s some professional job, you could tell.
You could have spend hours looking at this picture and still find new details about it. In fact the idea was very tempting, hence why your calendar was still stuck on the month of April despite being already mid-August. The calendar was pinned on your fridge and you could look at it every time you would cook or eat, which was exactly what you were doing right now. Well, at least you were trying because as soon as you would try to bring your fork to your mouth, your eyes would land again on the perfect picture.
The fact that you knew the model didn’t help at all your trouble.
You had met Miguel a few months ago through joined acquaintances and you didn’t even know he was a firefighter at the time. He would rarely speak about his job, not even to complain about it. And certainly not to brag. You quickly realized that he was quite secretive and shy when it came to his private life. It was very rare, almost impossible to hear him brag and he didn’t really take compliments very well. No idea where this insecurity could come from. He was quite a catch honestly, not even speaking physically. Miguel was overall someone nice and caring, as if his job didn’t already convey this trait of his personality enough. Maybe that’s why the two of you got along very well. When he was devoted to the well-being of most people and selfless, you were selfish, pragmatic and even a bit bitter. He was the type of person who would wake up at 4 in the morning to help the others and you were the type of person who after waking up at 10 am would shamelessly ogle the picture of a half-naked man, wondering about the size of his…
Your phone softly buzzed, taking you out your daydream. As soon as Miguel’s name appeared on the screen, you came back to your senses and picked up the phone.
“Hi…”
“Were you still sleeping?”, he asked with an amused voice. While most people would find you lazy, Miguel had simply accepted that your lifestyle was not his and that you were more of a night owl. This doesn’t mean that he wouldn’t tease you from time to time about it.
You rubbed your hand over your tired eyes and groaned into the phone:
“No...I was...eating...is there a problem?”
“You left your sweater in my car yesterday. I thought I could come give it back to you after training.”
Your brain took a few seconds to understand his words but when it did, your eyes opened wide and you jumped to your feet, scurrying toward the front door.
“You’re already here?”
“Well, I was in the neighborhood and I thought I could stop by. I also brought breakfast since I thought you would have just waken up…”
He sounded almost apologetic as if he had dragged you of bed. Your heart stammered into your chest and a stupid grin curled up your lips. Sweet, selfless Miguel. How did he manage to always make your cold demeanor crumble? That was a mystery to you.
You opened the door and there, stood Miguel, a large bag of edibles in his arm, your sweater perfectly folded in a small bag while he was still holding his phone. And as if the sight of him wasn’t sweet enough already, he was still wearing his athleisure clothes, ie a tank top and loose grey shorts. His skin was covered in a thin sheet of sweat and his brown locks were stuck to his temples and the back of his neck. A treat for the eyes.
The moment he saw you in your sleepwear, he turned off his phone and a small blush crept up his face. You were only wearing a short and a tank top but he didn’t mind. That was...quite a nice view.
“Well, you are definitely awake.”, he joked quietly as you made sign for him to enter the apartment. “I was afraid that I would wake you up.”
You could definitely wake me up anytime you want.
“No, don’t worry, it’s fine.” You grabbed the bag he was handing you with your sweater inside. It was neatly folded, even better than what you would usually do to your clothes. You might as well invite him over to share breakfast with you. Miguel gladly accepted and followed you to the kitchen and as much as he tried to be a gentleman his eyes would always end up following the sway of your hips and the very appealing bounce of your butt. He started to feel a bit tight in his shorts and this feeling only increased when he noticed that you weren’t wearing a bra under your top. He cleared his throat, trying to chase those thoughts away; it was too early in the morning for this.
“I found this small french bakery down the block and I thought you would like to try these…”, he said while putting down the bag on the central island of the kitchen. The buzzing sound of the coffee machine filled the air just when you replied to him:
“Oh yeah, I actually wanted to try this one. Thanks.”
And now your nipples were pointing under the shirt.
Great.
This definitely didn’t help the situation down his pants and he wisely chose to advert his gaze...only to fall on the dreaded picture he hoped you would never hear about. A rush of color filled up his cheeks and he was practically sure he wasn’t half-hard or hard at all anymore. What was this thing doing here?
You turned around to put his mug of coffee down the counter and that’s when you noticed where his eyes were. Not on you, unfortunately, but on the calendar.
Shit!
You didn’t even bother to put it on the right month. Hopefully Miguel would take it as it is, a compliment. But the moment you saw his brows furrow and his jaw tighten, you had a serious doubt.
“Hum...Miguel?”
He didn’t respond at first and when he looked back in your direction, he still seemed very ashamed, almost mortified. A pink hue was covering his cheeks and the back of his ears. Seems like you were going to have a lot of fun...
“Yes?”
You let the silence last a bit more before replying: “Is there a problem?”
“No. No...why would there be any problem?”
“Because you’re all red in the face suddenly. I was wondering if something was making you feel uncomfortable…”, you asked innocently. At this point of your relationship, he should know better. He should know what this coy tone meant but he still fell in the trap: “It’s just… Where did you even get this calendar?”
“Does it bother you?”
“No...it’s just...a bit tacky. I didn’t think you would like something like this…”, he replied in a sheepish voice. If you knew any better than this, that man was flustered.
“It’s practical.”, you simply reply with a shrug of your shoulders, dismissing the embarrassment in his voice. Miguel awkwardly chuckled: “Then why is it stuck on April?”
“Touché.”, you replied with a sly grin. You then took a sip of your coffee and his eyes wouldn’t leave the shape of your lips molding against the edge of the cup or the way your eyes still looked at him under your lashes, as if you were a cat playing with a mouse. All this little game was making him feel hot under the collar and he nervously ran his hand through his hair.
“Maybe...I just like the picture.”, his eyes were trying to avoid your gaze but they would eventually flutter back to the alluring shape of your silhouette. “Maybe...this is just making me feel curious.”
He didn’t need to ask about what it made you feel curious. Your tone was already giving him enough hints and he could only sheepishly chuckle, almost giggling while the red in his cheeks intensified. “You can’t be serious…”
“What if I am?”
Your blunt answer took him by surprise and you took this short moment to move a bit closer to him but still keeping your hands to yourself, even if the urge to rest them against his body was becoming stronger by the minute.
You had just been thinking about this these last weeks. Ever since you brought that calendar back home, all you could think about was the moment you would get to lay on top of him, run your hands down his abdomen, unto some more exciting territory, crossing every single line. The image of his body would haunt you during your alone time, making you wish it was his hands bending you, making you scream and turning you into some drained but satisfied mush.
His breath faltered when your fingers hovered above the soft cotton of his sweater. The fabric clung to his body, drawing out the shape and relief of his build silhouette, all in sharp angles and dips like some statue.
“Maybe I want to see a bit more..."
Your fingers trailed down his torso, from his chest to his abdomen and you could feel the way his heartbeat quickened as well as the way his body tensed and arched into your touch, yielding against your fingers. The hard contour of his silhouette was being traced, made more noticeable for your eyes and your eyes only. Your hungry gaze made him feel wanted in a way he didn’t know was possible; a special talent of yours. Standing there, still covered in sweat and fresh out of his training, he couldn’t believe you still wanted him. And yet…
“You want to see more?”, he asked under his breath and with a quick nod from you, he took your hands guided them over his body.
Your fingers soon slipped under the fabric of his tank top and you rose on your tip toes in an attempt to kiss him. Given the height difference between you, he quickly opted for the easiest solution. His arms scooped you up and placed your body on top of the counter, shortening the distance between you. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you didn’t waste a single second to pull him closer to you but you still managed to surprise him. He was not expecting for your lips to aim for his shoulder rather than his mouth and with a low groan, he welcomed the caress of your lips onto his skin as you traced your way up his neck.
The pressure of his fingers grew tighter on your sides as this make-out session turned steamier. Your nipping on his neck made him react almost immediately. His fingers slid down lower on your body and soon gave your ass a firm squeeze. He needed to get you out of these shorts and quickly. Your soft whimper onto his neck told him he was doing everything right and his hands kept kneading your soft rear while your own diligent hands removed his top, leaving your eyes free to feast on the sight of his after-work body. Every word you uttered seemed to get straight to his cock as he felt it practically twitch every time you would breathe a bit harder on his skin or tell him how nice he felt, how gorgeous he was.
“Lay down...just...get on your back…”, his breath was a bit more labored as he helped you lying down the counter. You were pinned under him when his hands finally lifted up your top, exposing your perky breasts. He had spent so much time fantasizing about them, this morning only they had been on his mind almost all-workout. Last night during your date, he couldn’t get his eyes out of them as soon as you would look away and they had been tempting too much since he entered your apartment. The perky mounds stuck out, resting on your chest like a crown, the tanned lines from your bikini making them stand out even more proudly. After a few seconds spent admiring them, he dipped his head onto the soft cleavage presented to him, not doing anything else than resting his face there at first.
Your hands stroked his hair, pulling him closer into your embrace and you began grinding your hips onto his aching cock. The shape of his erection was visible under the grey fabric as it strained against it, begging for release. He would wait. He always waited. There was no need to rush with someone like you. Even when he was alone, he would always take his time fantasizing about the endless possibilities of your body rather than bringing himself to climax quickly. There was no such thing as a quickie with him and today was no exception. He will focus on every single part of your body, take his time to taste it, to enjoy it to the fullest...no matter if it made his dick throb and swell with more and more arousal. No matter if he would end up practically whimpering while getting his face stuck in your pussy later.
Miguel nuzzled his face further onto your breasts. His face was smothered between your breasts, his lips occasionally licking and sucking on their plump flesh. Low growls would escape his lips every time his lips circled around one of your perky nipples, sucking in deeply, swirling his tongue around the rigid nub and the puffy areola. His hands were holding your waist where the hem of your pants slopped down, exposing your waist.
“Eres tan deliciosa...can’t wait to get more of you...”
His nose trails down the line of your abdomen, running over smooth skin while his thumbs rub in circle the skin over your sides. He tugged at the hem of your shorts with his teeth, silently pleading to get more of you.
“May I?” You groaned a small “yes” and he finally pulled down your shorts. When he nuzzled his nose onto your panties, pressing it right where your slit would be, your hips bucked. He giggled at your eager response.
“Sorry about that.”, you quickly apologized but he dismissed the said apology with a caress of his hand on your thigh, soothing your worry.
“There’s no need to worry.” He then pressed a soft kiss under your belly button and hummed, his breath warm on your skin: “You’re such a needy little thing sometimes.”
“I’m not needy.”, you replied with a growing blush.
“Mhh...who’s been keeping a calendar of half-naked men in her kitchen again?” His brow cocked in a teasing manner as he trailed a line of warm kisses all the day down to your entrance. Your breath hitched and you arched your back in response to his teasing:
“Are you going to remind me of this for a long time?”
“Yes.”
His hooked finger pushed your panties aside and he basked in the musky scent of your arousal, watching how your pubes glistened with arousal.
“Someone feeling jealous over there?”, you teased him which only earned you a chuckle.
“I have no reason to be jealous…”, his hands slipped under your butt and he lifted up a bit your body until your legs were wrapped around his neck, “...and I’m going to show you why.”
His lips dived into your parted legs, his mouth molding to the shape of your vulva as he suckled in deeply. Your essence spurted into his mouth, making you writhe slightly. His nose rubbed onto your clit while he swirled his tongue deeper between your slick folds. His cock was aching down his sweatpants, burning to be free and soon replacing his tongue.
As he kept lapping and sucking on your cunt, he slowly edged you until you couldn’t hold it anymore. The sound of you moaning and cooing his name was the sweetest reward he could get for his hard work; until you came undone. He could feel how close he was too to just climax, here and there on the spot. The sight of you, spread on the counter with your clothes ruffled and your puffy clit, throbbing and begging for more.
“Feeling good, mama?”, he softly asked while placing a soft peck on your thigh.
“Bedroom now.” Your enthusiasm made him giggle again and he kept placing soft pecks all over your face and shoulders while carrying you to the bedroom. Your eager hands slipped under the hem of his sweatpants and tried to grab a hold of his butt. As much as you liked this calendar, it was a shame it didn’t pay proper homage to the glorious work of art this man’s buttocks were.
Miguel finally let you go down the bed and slipped out of his sweatpants. He was rummaging through the nightstand, looking for the pack of condoms you always kept there.
You watched in awe as he tore open a condom and swiftly lowered his boxers. His cock sprung free, the tip almost slapping his lower belly as some precum already dripped from the swollen tip. His fingers quickly put on the condom and when he caught your gaze on him, he stopped, a sheepish smile on his lips: “Everything alright?”
“That was just the sexiest thing I’ve ever see you doing.” A sympathetic look took over his features as he crawled on top of you, peppering your face with soft kisses. It was probably the first time you’ve had a boyfriend who didn’t reluctantly put on a condom and who accepted that you just couldn’t put an IUD or take the pill. This was as refreshing as it was sexy and the delicate attention always made you feel grateful, no matter how much Miguel would tell you that it was nothing.
“How do you want to do this?”, he asked with his lips still pressed on your temple.
“I want to see you.” Your response seemed to please him a lot because he quickly obliged and soon you found yourself attached to one another, with his arms pinning you onto the bed while he kept moving back and forth between your warm walls. Every move he made was followed by a deep, throaty grunt on his side.
“Feeling good, sweetheart?”
You could only moan back at his question, wrapping yourself tightly around him as he was thrusting deeper into you. The heat between your two bodies was becoming unbearable as time went on and it only became stronger when he slipped his hand down your stomach and began toying with your clit.
“Gonna cum for me, okay sweetie? I want to make you feel so good…” The slight desperation in his tone didn’t go unnoticed on your side. He wanted nothing more but for you to remember this moment every time you would look at his picture. He wanted you to be as whipped for him as he was for you, completely and utterly transfixed.
“Miguel…” He knew what it meant when you cried out his name like that. It meant you were close and he made his mission to guide you through it with his fingers rubbing circles faster on your already sensitive and swollen clit.
“That’s it baby...just like that…”
Your body tensed and your grip on him tightened as he felt you reaching your climax. His praise didn’t stop soon and he kept placing soft pecks all over your face, especially around your furrowed brows, one thing he found adorable in these moments.
It took the two of your some time to calm down after this moment. Miguel had brought you back a towel from the bathroom to clean yourself and two glasses of water. It was a bit hot since it was the middle of the summer and he knew too well the risks of dehydration. However this didn’t stop him from cuddling with you, his arms tightly wrapped around your body, one hand tracing the curve of your hips, following the slope of it like a traveler climbing up a mountain. His eyes marveled at your body in silence, looking at the way the sweat had coated your skin. When he kissed the sensitive spot of skin behind your ear and playfully nuzzled his face into it, you squirmed a bit. But it was not enough to escape his grip and you just managed to rub yourself even more against him:
“Miguel...it’s already too hot. And I’m gross like that.”
Your words could have as well be heard by a deaf because he didn’t stop his kissing. In fact he even nuzzles his face lower on your body, his nose following the curve of your clavicle while he mumbled:
“You’re not gross. You’re perfect like that…”
You were glad he didn’t catch the blush that was blooming on your cheeks: “It’s still too hot for that…” But your protest wasn’t very convincing and none of you moved a single inch. It would soon be too hot to go out or even do anything at this point and your body succumbed to the promise of a lazy, indolent afternoon, resting in the arms of your lover.
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Notes: Thanks for reading this story! I hope you liked it. it's been a while since I've written smutty one-shot so I needed some time to get back on track. Hope it doesn't feel too awkward.
🌻🌻🌻
My masterlist
#atsv miguel#spiderman 2099#miguel o'hara#fanfic#miguel x reader#spiderverse#across the spiderverse#miguel 2099#miguel smut#miguel o'hara smut#miguel o'hara au
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Just some random thoughts on yesterday's Pit Babe 2 announcement because I keep seeing some theories floating around (really interesting theories, mind you!) on how Way and Tony could or couldn't still be alive and...
Apart from the fact that this is Thai drama and they don't really need a reason to still be alive beyond the fact that (much like Emperor Palpatine) somehow they've returned, the show itself has also given us plenty of possible canon reasons for what could have happened if we take the announcement trailer at face value:
That drug Babe's father used on Charlie could also have been used on Way.
Everyone was far too upset and distracted to check if Way was really dead. They didn't even administer first aid. For all we know Way could have felt like going for a walk five minutes after everyone left.
Fancy enigma powers (it's over for all of us if he ever learns to do mass-hypnosis).
Way has returned as Way the White.
As for Tony, he's rich and evil and eternally scheming so he totally could have planned for this. I could even see him using Kenta as part of his contigency plan - and playing dead is the perfect sleight of hand. If you want to get really dark, I don't think Kenta would have been in any position to refuse if Tony had roped him into at least somewhat taking the fall for him (granted, he did look surprised by whoever got them all out of prison but it could have been surprise at Tony actually returning for him). It would even add to that penultimate scene of him accepting his role as Tony's dog. One very satisfying stabbing indident doesn't really change the fact that, dead or alive, Tony will always have some degree of influence over him - especially if there's no one left to give him guidance (and Lord knows Dean and Winner can't even find their way out of a clown car).
Besides, neither Pete nor X-Hunter (seemingly) standing up for him (and that after they all gave him so much encouragement in season 1) and leaving him to rot in prison with Winner and Dean (I'm kind of taking that personally) actually somewhat confirms his skewed worldview of Tony being an inescapable reality.
And much like Kenta himself, I'm also still not over PeteKenta so I wonder how and if that will factor into everything - especially since with Way (presumably) still alive Pete again has the choice between two poor little meow-meows who are (un?)willingly trapped on the wrong side of things. Because he will try to save them both. It's just who he is (but yes, I'm also here for PeteWay so I don't mind either way; all I know is that the angst will be delicious).
I'm also just really excited for the baddie squad in general. We have Dean who's pragmatic and ambitious (and looking really good while doing his evil little thing), Winner who's making squeaky clown shoe noises wherever he goes (I know this and I love him) and Kenta who's tragically stuck with both of them. Those are some A+++ dynamics and I already love this team-up so much. I'd watch a whole series with just these three.
Then there's the possibility of the whole announcement trailer being one big sleight of hand and maybe KentaDeanWinner (don't mind if I do) aren't evil at all but more of a Suicide Squad kind of thing (again, would watch). They could be working for Pete (and the thought of Pete possibly having read Winner's mind and still deciding to hire him is incredibly funny to me).
Anyway, I want everyone to be still alive because imagine the shenanigans! The absolute high jinks! The angst! The possibilities are endless!!
#pit babe 2#pit babe the series#pit babe#jane watches stuff#will i ever write serious meta?#probably not#that's just the winner in me#never mind me i'm just so excited and i have so many thoughts#and i need a place to sort them
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People don’t talk about Idia-Ortho role reversals enough
Consider Ortho, young and naive, just a child who longs to go on an adventure, just like the heroes in his video games.
He reveres his older brother, who he views to be on the same level as those heroes, if not better, because while heroes are cool, his older brother is the best.
They laugh and hope and dream, cradled within a tech labyrinth of magic and monsters. They subside on daydreams and each other’s presence. The thought of the journeys the two of them will embark on excites Ortho for the future.
He’s the apple of his brother’s eye. Whatever he wants, Idia gets, with a sharp, triumphant smirk and a laugh of;
“Just leave it to your big brother.”
Then Ortho asks for an adventure. And Idia agrees.
Imagine the initial excitement, the sparkle in Ortho’s eye and the grin on Idia’s face as they sneak off the island. The security systems are down, the fluorescent lights are black, and Ortho can hear every step they make, echoing down the halls.
Imagine the spider that crawls up Ortho’s back as he hears something clatter around the corner.
Imagine the fear when he and Idia realize that that something is decidedly inhuman.
His brother tells him to run. He does.
….
The researchers and caretakers tell him that it isn’t his fault, to blame it on Idia.
Idia was the one who agreed.
Idia was the one to shut down the security system.
Idia was the one to release the phantoms.
And it’s Idia’s own fault that he’s dead.
But Ortho knows the truth. Idia didn’t kill himself. The murderer was him.
After that, testimonies say, Ortho was mute for a week, silent and cold in a way the lively boy had never been.
Then he bounces back. He’s bright and cheery, effervescent and seemingly open. But his liveliness isn’t so lively as it is a porcelain mask. The spark in his eyes isn’t there, his optimism feels forced, and something in the boy just feels off.
He throws himself into his studies with a harsh fervor. He stalks the researchers, smile affixed to his face, ever so careful to keep his inquiries polite and sweet. He desperately wants to press, but he can’t afford to get kicked out. Not yet, at least.
Books and metal scraps collect on the work table in his room, and his room’s light doesn’t turn off until late, late into the black night.
Everyone waves his new behavior off. With Idia gone, Ortho is the new heir. What a nice boy, some say. A pity his brother died. Such a shame that a genius was lost, but at least his replacement is hardworking.
Ortho blots their voices out of his ears. Idia won’t be gone for long. He could never replace Idia.
Idia is a hero.
Ortho is no genius, he could never truly reach Idia’s level and prowess in all fields, but he is still a Shroud and by the gods will he try.
Idia’s copy of Star Rogue sits alone on the shelf, painted with a blanket of dust.
Ortho glances at it from his desk, and determinedly thinks;
“Just leave it to your little brother.”
……
When Ortho emerges from his room one day, manic gleam in his eye, smile threatening to tear his lips apart, every Styx faculty member can feel something wrong.
But to Ortho, this is the first time in years that he’s felt right.
…….
A few years later, a new student is admitted to Night Raven College. He is a bright, cheerful young man, the supposed heir of the Shroud family. There is a mechanical being that towers over his smaller figure, sharp and sardonic, fiery artificial hair rolling down his back. They are brothers, the Shroud heir claims.
At this point, no one dares to tell him otherwise.
#twst#idia shroud#twisted wonderland#ortho shroud#shroud brothers#twst headcanons#headcanon#twisted wonderland idia#twst ortho#who let stella write
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The blue (JJ Maybank x Reader)
Series summary: JJ has a secret, and he doesn’t know how much longer he can hold onto it. He discovers his breaking point when his best friend starts to show interest in you, his step sister, who he’s already fallen hard for
Series tags: step brother!jj, dual pov, jealousy, one sided john b x reader, drinking, inappropriate relationship, public sex, oral sex (f receiving)
A/N: first series I’ve finished and I could not be more excited to share! please read the tags and if the subject matter is uncomfortable to you, you do not have to read. this one is a wild ride guys, I can’t wait for you to see what I have in store 🫶
Series masterlist + OBX masterlist
JJ didn’t really understand how this happened, but it did. When he tried to trace it all back, there wasn’t really one big moment. Just a bunch of small individual moments that amounted to… this. This feeling. This thing that kept him up at night that he couldn’t seem to get rid of.
He’d never been in love before, so it took JJ awhile to realize that’s what he felt for you.
Or maybe it was the denial. The moral part of his brain telling him it wasn’t normal. Your mom was married to his dad, so according to everyone else’s rules that made you his step sister—even if he didn’t think about you in that context anymore.
He used to, when you both were younger, before your mom got arrested. A large part of why JJ was so happy when you came into his life was because his dad eased up on him, finding some semblance of happiness with your mom.
But she wasn’t exactly perfect. To be with his dad, JJ always wondered what was wrong. As it would turn out, she had serious issues, but what they got her for was being a tax cheat. It added up how they could’ve met after that.
It was getting to be around… what, a little over a year since that happened? JJ couldn’t really keep track of the months, and you never liked to talk about it.
As much as JJ loved his father, he knew he wasn’t a good guy, even if he wanted him to be. So it surprised him when his dad still let you stay with them, but you’d been around since you were both about thirteen, so even if his dad didn’t think of himself as responsible for you (or even JJ), he at least cared enough to not throw you to the street.
That was about the same JJ got from him, and recognizing that is what brought you closer to him.
Sure, you’d been sort of close growing up, but not really. You mostly spent time with your mom and your own friends. Then, when everything went down, you lost your mom and your friends followed not long after. He saw the puffiness in your eyes when you’d come home and go to your room for the whole night. No one to hang out with after school and nowhere to go on a Saturday night. They had ditched you, apparently deciding that mocking you was more important than being there for you. It made his stomach hurt to see you in such a state. You didn’t smile for days.
So JJ, being the good step brother that he was, stepped in. He took you under his wing and brought your smile back.
You fit in well with his friends, easily becoming a part of the group. They liked having you around, and JJ felt like he got to know you in a way he hadn’t ever before.
It was selfish, but you made being at home easier. You kept him company when he stayed up too late and made sure to wake him up in the morning so he wouldn’t be late to work whatever odd job he had at the time.
Whenever his dad hit him, which started again not long after your mom was locked up, you were there to take care of him.
You were so sweet with him, eyes full of care and touches gentle as you cleaned his cuts or iced his bruises. It made it hurt less.
After one night, when his dad hit him, leaving a cut from one of his rings on JJ’s face, you came to his aid as you frequently did. His dad stormed out, so it was just the two of you as you cleaned his face. You had him sit on the couch and stood over him, one hand holding his face while the other held a cloth to make sure the cut was clean.
As JJ stared up at you, your frustrated words about his father falling on deaf ears, one jarring thought crossed his mind.
You should kiss her.
He’d immediately stood up, snapping himself out of whatever daze he was in, and went to his room. You’d tried to talk to him, but he brushed you off and said he was tired. When he asked to be left alone, which was rare, you did.
He didn’t sleep most of the night, staring up at his ceiling wondering where that thought had even come from. He’d never had it before, but from that moment on, JJ started to become much more aware of everything you did—everything you did for him.
Of course his friends loved him and cared about him, and he did the same for them, but with you, something about it just felt different. You were by his side nearly every moment of the day. You saw things they didn’t, and you were there when they couldn’t be.
You became everything to JJ. There was no other way to put it.
That was a couple months ago, and since then, his realization had morphed into something far more.
JJ was deeply, madly in love with you, which was not something a guy should be with his step sister, but he was. He didn’t really deal with it, just shoved it down and tried to ignore it. It was hard, especially when he was around you every single day, but JJ had done his best.
JJ would catch himself staring at you more than he’d admit, but no one seemed to notice. No one would suspect what he was thinking anyway. He made excuses to touch you, like a hand on your back when moving past you to get something or draping his arm over your shoulder and leaning on you jokingly. The latter made you laugh, and he’d join you, but he’d still feel a loss when you playfully nudged him away and told him you weren’t an armrest.
Sometimes, when he didn’t care how pathetic it was, he’d let himself drink too much, just so he could lean on you when you’d help him inside. When he pulled that stunt, sometimes he’d get lucky and you’d even stay by his side to make sure he went to sleep comfortably. And of course, whenever his dad struck, fists full of misplaced rage, you were there, easing the pain.
JJ resolved to take what he could get, and eventually he’d move on.
At least, he hoped that’s how it would go. Maybe he’d get lucky and—
“Hello?” You waved a hand in front of JJ’s face. “I’m talking to you.”
JJ blinked. He looked at you, zoning back in. In an instant, he remembered what was going on. You and him, along with his three best friends, were all on the beach. The others were in the water, while you had been sunbathing on shore and JJ… well, he’d just been sitting by you, wanting to be in your proximity (and sometimes steal glances when he couldn’t help himself).
But now you were on your feet, leaning down as you dropped your hand. JJ’s eyes fell from your face to your chest, and he swallowed when he caught a glimpse down your bikini top.
His eyes flicked back to your face. Was that too obvious? He hoped not.
“Sorry, what?”
You gave him a confused look, but laughed and straightened up.
“Do you wanna get in?”
He knew you meant the water, and in the distance he saw his friends waving for the two of you to join them.
JJ shook his head, and the action felt as if it were in slow motion. Kind of like when he was high, but much less carefree.
“Um, maybe in a bit.”
If he got too distracted he’d probably drown in the ocean—if the guilt of keeping his secret from you didn’t do it first.
You shrugged, not able to read him the way you usually could.
“If you’re scared, there might be some floaties somewhere,” you teased as you turned your back, heading for the water.
JJ couldn’t formulate a comeback, too focused on the swing on your hips as you walked away from him.
He squeezed his eyes shut and swallowed again, questioning his own self what was wrong with him. He’s never experienced such a desperate feeling before. What were you doing to him?
When he opened his eyes, you were in the water, and he had no answers.
He tried to focus on the sand, the water, the sky—anything but you. He even tried to look at Kiara just to see if it would work, but his eyes always drifted back to you, the ache in his chest growing with each passing minute.
JJ didn’t think much of it when he saw Kiara suddenly haul herself up onto Pope’s shoulders, but he felt like he got kicked in the stomach when you climbed onto John B’s.
John B’s arms locked around your legs, the two of you laughing loudly as you steadied yourself. JJ could hear it from shore—you weren’t that far out. JJ knew he was focusing far more than necessary because he saw the way your hands brushed John B’s hair out of his face as he tilted his head back to look up at you.
Even from where he was, JJ could see how you smiled down at John B. It was innocent and friendly, and it made him incredibly jealous.
You and Kiara started to go at it, trying to knock the other into the water.
JJ didn’t think anyone noticed when he stood and walked down to the edge of the sand.
“You’re going down!” Kiara shouted, her hands interlocked with and pushing against yours as you both refused to budge.
You laughed loudly. It was like music.
It took one exchanged look from you and John B to formulate a plan. It was the kind of silent communication that JJ thought you reserved for him.
You let Kiara lean a lot of weight on you, and that’s where your advantage was. In an instant, you relaxed your grip and John B stepped to the side. The other girl, and Pope beneath her, wobbled. It was over in a second. The two shouted right before they crashed down into the water.
“Ha!” you exclaimed, raising your hands in the air while John B whooped and hollered in celebration.
Kiara and Pope emerged, both rolling their eyes. It was their turn to share a look, and as JJ waded into the water, he figured out their plan.
With the two of them jumping at John B, it was easy to knock him off his feet. JJ’s eyes went a little wide when you fell into the water with a crash.
“Did you see that?” Kiara yelled with a grin when she spotted JJ.
“Kinda hard to miss,” he responded, looking around the water. It had been a few seconds and you had yet to reappear.
“They’re just messing with us,” Pope commented on your and John B’s absence, but his words started to sound less sure by the end.
Another long beat of silence passed. The waves grew still.
“This isn’t funny anymore!” Kie shouted.
JJ felt a twinge of panic, awful scenarios flashing through his head. It didn’t matter how unlikely they were.
Suddenly, water erupted. John B arose with a splash, with you clinging to his back. He roared dramatically while shoving water towards Kie and Pope. They screamed as the waves hit them, trying and failing to shield themselves.
“Revenge!” you yelled in a maniacal manner, chin on John B’s shoulder.
“Truce! Truce!” Kie and Pope both yelled, spitting out saltwater.
John B paused, and JJ noticed how close his face was to yours when he turned his head.
“Should we forgive them?” John B deferred to you.
You hummed thoughtfully. “I think they learned their lesson,” you decided. Your gaze, which had been focused on John B, shifted past him. “Hey, look who made it!”
JJ realized you were talking to him. He forced a smile, smothering the jealousy he felt at seeing you and John B in the position you were in. It seemed weirdly close for you two. You and John B weren’t usually touchy-feely-piggyback-ride friends.
John B seemed to pick up on JJ’s shift in demeanor, because his smile was a little more contained as he said, “Hey, man.”
JJ figured his friend didn’t get that he was jealous, which was for the best. Everyone knew JJ was protective over you, and John B probably thought JJ was questioning his intentions as your brother. Why would it be anything else?
“Nice victory,” JJ replied, having nothing better to say. He didn’t even grit his teeth, so he counted that as a win for himself.
Tension eased as you all decided to just chat and relax in the water until the sun set.
Although, JJ kept an eye on John B, noticing how his friend kept an eye on you.
When it got dark and you all began to head back to the shore, JJ found himself at your side. Your steps fell in line with his as you looked up.
“You feeling okay?” you asked lightly. You must’ve sensed his attitude shift, even if it was subtle. “You’ve been quieter than usual.”
JJ couldn’t help the urge to smile at how well you knew him.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” he lied, not wanting to concern you. He liked when you worried about him, but this was the one time when he didn’t want you pressing for him to open up. “Are you?”
JJ reached to ruffle your damp hair. You swatted his hand away before he could do any real damage.
“Very funny,” you grumbled. Your expression shifted to a smile, then softened. There was something careful about it. “If something was up, you’d tell me, right?”
JJ swallowed, trying to avoid the way your eyes searched his. He had to look forward before he could answer.
“Yeah, of course,” he assured.
JJ didn’t remember falling asleep on the couch, but he remembered everyone sitting around the living room.
Wait, no. That wasn’t right.
The porch. Everyone has been sitting on the porch, drinking and laughing together. He recalled cramming himself into a chair next to you, playing it off like a joke. Everyone had laughed, and he got to be close to you, so it worked out.
He also remembered following Kiara and Pope inside, expecting you to be behind him.
Everything clicked.
You and John B had elected to stay outside, and JJ had been sitting on the couch, watching through the window, trying to make out what you were saying through the small opening where the window was cracked for the nighttime breeze.
He must’ve dozed off while waiting for you. That didn’t sound like him—he would’ve been focused on watching you, making sure you made it in. Maybe he had been worn out or you stayed up way too late, or both.
JJ blinked a few times. He was just concerned for your safety, like always. Fenced in porches with lights and his best friend keeping you company could be dangerous…
Yeah, he didn’t even buy that.
It was easier back when JJ believed his own lies and self justifications.
Sitting up, JJ peered out the window. It was the early hours of the morning, right around when it was still dark but you could just tell the sun was about to begin rising. His heart sped up when he found you missing from your chair. You weren’t in any of the other chairs in his view, either.
He stood up, feeling more awake than ever, and went right for the door. He didn’t care about waking anyone inside up.
“Jeez, man,” John B said suddenly, sounding surprised as he looked at him. JJ had just barged out onto the porch out of nowhere. “You good?”
JJ took a second to observe his friend. He half-sitting and half-laying back on the couch against the wall, which made sense because he’d been sitting there before. From inside, JJ couldn’t see him, but he didn’t even think about John B’s whereabouts until he stepped out.
Maybe he was a bad friend for that.
He didn’t feel that guilty, though, because he saw where you were; sleeping on John B with your head on his thigh. You were curled up on your side, facing away from his body, and JJ could see how steadily you were breathing.
JJ looked back at his friend, ready to lash out, but the word ‘irrational’ popped up in his mind and resisted. Just from the scene in front of him, it’s not like he had anything to be mad about.
Jealous, maybe, but not mad. But he couldn’t act on that feeling either. If he acted jealous, that would invite too many questions that JJ didn’t have a good answer for.
“Fine just…” He ran a hand through his hair and then shook his head. “You guys good?”
John B furrowed his brows a little, but chuckled.
“Yeah, we’re fine. We were just talking and she started to fall asleep and I just let her. She seemed tired and it wasn’t a big deal so...”
“What were you guys talking about?”
“I don’t know, stuff?”
JJ leaned back in the doorway. “Like what, though?”
John B tilted his head a little, shaking it ever so slightly.
“Just… life and stuff. Does it matter?”
“I guess not,” JJ replied, giving the appropriate answer. He looked down at you, noticing you hadn’t stirred. You looked comfortable, and that was very conflicting. All of this was. It made his head hurt. “Has she been asleep long?”
John B met JJ’s eyes when he looked back up from you.
“You sure you’re okay?” John B asked, sounding almost concerned. Or at least confused. Maybe both.
But the answer was no. No he wasn’t.
“Yeah, man,” JJ answered with a shrug. “She probably won’t wake up if you wanna get up and go get some sleep.”
John B looked down at you, then at JJ.
He slowly started to move, being extra careful with your head, making sure to put a cushion beneath you before standing up straight.
John B gave a light, awkward smile to JJ as he neared him. He brushed past to go through the door, turning to face JJ.
“You coming?”
“Actually, I think I’m gonna sleep out here,” JJ answered, fighting the urge to look at you. He gave a shrug instead and said, “It’s nice out and I can’t get comfortable on the couch anyway. You can have it—plus I think Kie’s in your bed, so…”
“Right…” John B agreed slowly, glancing at you on the couch again. “You know nothing happened, right?” He looked back at JJ. “We were just talking.”
JJ wasn’t expecting something so direct. “It’s cool man, I know,” he found himself replying. “We’re good.”
John B nodded, albeit slowly. He entered the dark house, and JJ shut the door behind him. As a courtesy.
He then turned, spotted the comfiest chair, and resolved to sleep in that for the night. You had stretched out on the couch and looked too peaceful to disturb, even if he did want to take John B’s place from before.
It worked out perfectly, because it gave him a clear view of you as he decided to let himself go back to sleep.
As his eyes closed, he wondered if John B would peek through the window just as he had.
If he did, he’d see the content smile on JJ’s face as he drifted off to sleep. For yet another night, JJ got you all to himself. He didn’t want it any other way. He wasn’t sure what he would do.
#stepbrother!jj maybank#jj maybank x reader#jj maybank#jj maybank x you#step bro!jj maybank#the blue#obx#outer banks#quin-ns writing
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All That She Wants Chapter 2: Waylaid
Series: All That She Wants
Fandom: The Royal Romance
Pairings for this chapter: Riley x Drake
Word Count: 827
Rating: M
Warnings for this chapter: sexual innuendo, infidelity
My other stuff: Master List.
Drake Walker was nothing if not predictable.
Every morning started with a protein shake, followed by a five-mile run. He worked out regularly in the gym with the rest of his unit, but on his days off he could be found poolside.
Swimming was good cardio and a nice way to change up his workout routine.
He pulled himself out of the water and headed for his towel.
“Looking good there, Walker.”
He froze, towel in one hand, water still dripping from his body. He’d know that voice anywhere. Struggling for composure, he forced his body to move. He toweled off quickly as he turned toward her. “Hey, Brooks. What are you doing out here in the middle of a workday?”
“Relaxing. I decided I needed a little me time, so I took it.”
His eyebrow arched as he tried to figure out why she was giving him a pass for the use of her maiden name. She usually reminded him promptly and imperiously that her name was Rys now.
As if he could forget that detail.
She held up a glass of iced tea with an inviting smile. “Want some?”
Shivers cascaded down his spine at the teasing lilt in her tone. His mouth went dry as he fought against every instinct that he had not to let his eyes wander over her body. He cleared his throat and glanced away before nodding. “Sure.”
“Well, come on then, sit.” She patted the outdoor chaise lounge next to her.
He sat down gingerly as he checked her out surreptitiously from his peripheral vision.
She was still just as beautiful as she had been all those years ago when he’d walked into that bar in New York. He had made his play for her during the engagement tour.
She had fucked him on a pool table and then gotten engaged to his best friend without so much as a conversation in between.
Riley gave him a scintillating smile as she handed him his own glass. Iced tea was a drink she had brought to the palace with her from America. Not that he was any stranger to it, being half Texan.
All of which begged the question, why did she have two glasses? He glanced around the pool area but saw no one else present. Was she waiting for someone? But if so, why offer the second glass to him?
Pushing his nerves, and his questions aside, he reached for the glass, his fingers brushing against hers, sending an electric jolt sparking through him. He dropped his eyes away from her as he muttered a barely audible, “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” she purred. “And what do I get in exchange?”
His head snapped up, his eyes frantically searching her face for clues about this new development.
Was she flirting with him?
The thought sent a thrill of excitement racing through him, chased by a wave of pure terror.
His feelings for her had never changed, but her feelings had always been, and remained, a complete mystery to him.
She was never rude to him. She was always polite. Quite often friendly. But never flirty. Not since that night in Paris.
Had that night meant anything to her? Or did she view it as a meaningless fling? He didn’t know, and he’d never asked.
His heart was pounding in his chest like a jackrabbit on Red Bull as he sat the untouched glass on the table next to him and then leaned toward her. “What do you want?”
She leaned forward as well, closing what little distance was left between them. Her head tipped back to peer up at him with a sparkle in her eyes that he had seen once before. His gaze dipped to her lips as her tongue darted out to moisten them, then darted back to her eyes as she whispered, “What if I said…. you?”
A million questions exploded through his brain. He knew he should ask why, or at least why now. It would be prudent to inquire what exactly she meant by him. His body? His heart? For an hour? Forever?
So many questions tumbled through him, but none of them found their way to the tip of his tongue.
The heat in her eyes gave the most immediate answers he needed. She wanted him, physically, right now.
Drake Walker was nothing if not predictable and perhaps the most predictable thing about him was his loyalty to Liam Rys. Which made his next move almost unthinkable, but the deepest desire of his heart was being dangled in front of him and he was taking it.
He was afraid any undue conversation might kill the unexpected opportunity that had just inexplicably opened up in front of him. Pushing his emotions deep down inside, something he was an expert at, he returned her seductive smile with one of his own as he stood and offered her his hand. “I’d say, what are we waiting for?”
#the royal romance#trr#drake walker#the royal romance fanfic#trr au#trr fanfic#trr au fanfic#angelasscribbles#choices fic writers creations#cfwc fics of the week
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Crimson and Clover (Bucky Egan x OC)
Summary: Bucky expects a lot of things when he arrives at Thorpe Abbotts, but Holly Dean isn't one of them. He's not complaining, though.
Word count: 5.1k
Note: I wrote most of this in a notebook over the past 3 days so my hand hates me, but I hope y’all like this! This fic covers pretty much from when Holly and Bucky meet to about Damn Yankees (mid-May to mid-June). Title comes from the song (Joan Jett version, we're bisexuals here). Do not interact if you’re under 18, terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.
Warnings: Inevitable historical and technical inaccuracies (I’m playing a little fast and loose with who was at Thorpe Abbotts early with Bucky). Depictions of grief and depression. Period typical attitudes.
“Wait, what’s going on?” Bucky asked.
“Some of the Air Exec girls are having another typing contest,” Dye said.
“Who’s the favorite to win?”
“Dean’s won the past two, but Spinelli’s pretty good.”
He was glad to have caught Lieutenant Glenn Dye when he did. The guy had been making a beeline to the Air Exec office when Bucky joined him. His first night there, and already some kind of action—socially, at least. No one had been able to tell him when exactly he’d actually get to join McDaniels’ crew on a mission, but he was itching to get up there, even despite the weariness McDaniels carried with him.
He looked a lot more relaxed in the Air Exec office, standing toward the front of the bustling chaos with Duvall, his navigator. Bucky and Dye pushed their way through the people packed in like sardines to witness the typing contest. Dread fell over Bucky for a split second. What if that was the most exciting thing going on at Thorpe Abbotts?
A shout carried over the conversations. “Last chance to place your bets, ladies and gents!”
“Over here!” Duvall fished a quarter from his pocket. “I’m in on Pinkowsky.”
“You’re throwing your money away,” McDaniels said.
Bucky pulled a crumpled dollar bill out of his pocket and placed it in the outstretched hat next to Duvall. “Put a dollar on Dean for me.”
A young woman with blonde hair in messy twin braids and oil-stained coveralls rushed over, nearly knocking into Duvall. “Hey, did I miss it?”
“Just about to start. Hey Major, have you met Woody yet?” Duvall asked.
Bucky shook his head. “Don’t believe I have.”
“Private Woodward—Woody,” she said. “I’d shake your hand, Major, but I’d probably stain it.” She held up her right hand, covered in black grime that she made some effort to scrub out before arriving.
“Major John Egan, but everyone calls me Bucky,” he said, before gesturing to the women sitting around the office. “So who’s who in this thing?”
Of the Air Exec typists, three were competing in the typing contest that night. Nancy Pinkowsky, a Floridian, sat a little toward the back of the room, as she applied red lipstick in a small compact mirror. Leona Spinelli of Newark, New Jersey, had her heels—sleek black pumps, not regulation—kicked up on the desk of one Holly Dean, straight from the nation’s capital with the brightest smile and sparkling brown eyes Bucky had ever seen in his life.
“He bet a buck on Holly to win,” Dye said.
“You bet on Holly, and you haven’t even met her yet?” Woody asked.
Bucky grinned. “Intuition. I got a good feeling about her.”
“You’re right about that.” Woody smiled. “She’s my best friend.”
His eyes scanned the room as he tried to commit faces to memory, but his gaze kept drifting back to Holly until she caught him staring and responded with a smile that he couldn’t help but return. He moved to make his way over and say something to her, but his introduction was interrupted by the announcement for the competing Air Exec girls to get to their desks, and all spectators to shut the hell up.
Holly’s eyes met his again, only to fall to the blank page in front of her when he blinked. From the sound of just three typewriters clicking away incessantly, Bucky could tell he’d end up with a headache if he stayed stuck as Air Exec, and that would be on top of the inevitable hangovers.
Her fingers moved fluidly across the keys, her face calm and focused, no evidence of her smile to be seen.
He finally tore his gaze from her to glance at Woody at his side, the mechanic silently bouncing back and forth on her feet, bottom lip between her teeth. Her focus was fixed on Holly, too.
“Finished!” Holly shouted to a cacophony of cheers and groans.
Two guys walked over, one of whom had been collecting everyone's bets. Scanned the paper and muttered between themselves for an agonizing minute before one of them announced Holly had, in fact, won with no mistakes and an impressive word per minute count.
Woody bounced back and forth on her feet, excitedly grabbing Bucky’s arm. “Beat her own record!”
“Attagirl, Holly!” Bucky shouted.
Just as soon as the chaos began, it promptly ended with Holly’s win. No reason to stick around after hours any more. Don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here, as Bucky had heard many a bartender say at last call. People slowly filtered out of the office.
A few bills and some change were shoved into his hand. “Here’s your cut. $4.50.”
He raised his eyebrows, slipping the money into his pocket. Not bad for his first night in East Anglia.
Holly didn’t recognize the man standing next to Woody, but something about him seemed familiar, comforting without the ache that usually accompanied thoughts of home, of…she figured it best not to spoil the rush of her win before she even reached Woody and met the man smiling her way.
Woody threw her arms around Holly in congratulations, their embrace lasting a few seconds before remembering they weren’t alone.
“Oh, Holly! This is Major John Egan. Just landed a few hours ago,” Woody said, her arm around Holly. “Major, this is Sergeant Holly Dean, typing queen.”
“Quit it!” Holly laughed. “You’re the new Air Exec officer, aren’t you?” She extended her hand. “Good to meet you, Major.”
Bucky shook her hand. “Looks like you’re batting 300, Sarge. I gotta keep you on my roster.”
“Starting lineup?” she asked.
“You bet,” he said. “You’re from DC, aren’t you? You must be a Nats fan.”
“Sure am,” she said, with all the foolhardy pride of someone devoted to an ever-struggling team. “How about you?”
“Yankees.”
“So you’re from New York!”
He shook his head. “Manitowoc, Wisconsin.”
“How does a man from Wisconsin end up a Yankees fan, Major?”
“I know winners when I see ‘em,” he said with a wink. “And call me Bucky.”
“Alright, Bucky.”
The two women leaned into each other, sharing an expression Bucky couldn’t quite read. Their closeness palpable, he found himself missing Buck. Probably would’ve had something to say about his betting on a typing contest, and Bucky would astutely point out typing wasn’t a sport, receiving an eye roll accompanied by a movie star smile of amusement in return.
“I hate to be that person,” Woody said apologetically, “but we should be heading back now.”
He nodded. "Right, well it was nice meeting you, Woody. I’ll see you tomorrow, Holly.”
“Bright and early, Bucky.”
——
Despite being in East Anglia for less than 24 hours, Bucky knew Thorpe Abbotts wasn’t anything to write home about, even if he had someone to write home to. The Rip Van Winkle village was only woken up from its slumber by the arrival of the United States Army Air Force and Red Cross. Local farmers were forced to trade a rooster’s morning crow for the roar of bomber planes as their alarm clocks. The English and Irish laborers who worked around the base considered their American compatriots novel and exotic—or a nuisance, depending on who he was talking to.
Found out there was a pub in town. Headed over with some of the other pilots and local laborers the night before. Good drinks, fun company, and a pretty barmaid. At least he wouldn’t have to rely on typing contests and the officers’ club exclusively to get his kicks. Though, if the typing contests happened regularly enough, he’d be looking at a decent payday if he kept betting on Holly to win. A guy the previous night had argued that Spinelli would win often enough, but Bucky, in all of his misguided superstition, figured there must have been something to going into the damn thing blind and making the best bet.
When Bucky got to the office, he almost couldn’t believe it was the same place that had been bursting at the seams the night before. Nancy Pinkowsky’s lips bore no trace of the bold red she painted on them. Leona Spinelli wore WAAC-issued heels, clacking across the floor as she walked over to a file cabinet. And Holly Dean’s brown eyes were dull, framed by light purple crescents below them.
Bucky frowned, making his way over to her.
“Morning, Sergeant,” he said.
“Good morning, Major.”
“Rough night?”
She gave him a tired smile. “Something like that. Did you get a chance to meet Corporal Pinkowsky or Sergeant Spinelli last night, sir?”
“Afraid I didn’t,” he said, a charming smile spreading across his face. “I’m sure we’ll all get to know each other pretty well. Major John Egan, but you can call me Bucky.”
They all seemed more controlled, stifled in contrast to the night before as they introduced themselves. Women always had personas to shift in and out of, social chameleons depending on the situation. Bucky had gotten along just fine without watering himself down for anybody, but as an old paramour of his had pointed out to him, he had the distinct advantage of being a man, and the world was far more forgiving to men with character than women, who had to shrink themselves to fit into perfume bottles, lipstick tubes, or in the cases of Holly, Nancy, and Leona, ribbons of typewriter ink.
“Looking forward to working with you, Major,” Nancy said, her long, dark eyelashes fluttering. She desperately wanted to be a flirt, but lacked the nerve to follow through.
Always sharp, Leona hardly missed a thing. Her attention could be unsettling, too intimidating for some people unless they knew her well enough. “Nice to meet you, sir.”
Bucky shifted his weight on his feet, looking away from Leona.
“Oh, Colonel Huglin’s looking for you,” Holly said.
He sighed. “That sounds about right. Wish me luck.”
“Good luck, Major.”
As soon as the door to Huglin’s office shut behind him, Nancy and Leona’s focus turned squarely to Holly, their attention weighing her down. She knew exactly what they were going to ask, anticipating their disappointment at her answer that no, she didn’t know if the handsome Major was taken. She would have been surprised if he were.
“So, what’s his deal?” Nancy asked.
Leona leaned over her desk. “Yeah, I saw you talking with him last night.”
“Well, he’s from Wisconsin, but he’s a Yankees fan.”
Nancy groaned. “You know what baseball team he likes, but you didn’t find out if he has a girlfriend?”
“What, you wanna make your move after flopping last night?” Leona teased, her cat-like gaze drifting over to Holly. “Besides, he’s got his sights set on you, Holly Dean.”
Holly shook her head. “I’m not ready to even consider anything romantic. You know that. I’ll never say ‘no’ to making a friend, though.”
“He might,” Nancy said.
“Well then you ask him if he’s getting his dick wet, if you’re so curious,” Leona said, snickering at the way Nancy’s face paled. “See, you need someone more your speed. Hey Holly, he say when the other flyboys were getting in?”
She shook her head. “He didn’t mention it.”
“Geez, maybe Nancy’s got a point. Is baseball all you talked about with the guy?” Leona asked.
The women’s chattering fell to whispers when Bucky stepped out of Huglin’s office a few minutes later. Perhaps Holly hadn’t noticed it sooner, caught up in the throes of her own exhaustion following a near sleepless night, but Bucky was quite clearly hungover. He certainly hadn’t kept his aviators on inside for style, that much became abundantly clear as he rubbed his forehead. The three typists shared wordless side glances at the state of him. First day on the job and probably got chewed out already.
“Any of you know where a guy can get aspirin?” he asked.
“There’s a first aid kit in the cabinet over there. Should be some,” Holly said.
“Thanks.”
“Of course, sir.”
They went back to typing, silently, slowly, glancing up every now and then to watch Bucky rifle through the first aid kit and promptly dry swallow two aspirin pills. He haphazardly shoved the contents back inside the box and closed it, shoving the first aid kit back into the cabinet. He retreated into his own office, presumably to sleep off whatever ailed him.
“Forget him,” Nancy whispered, only loud enough for her compatriots to hear. “He hasn’t even been here a day and he’s hungover. That’s sick.”
Holly gave her a pointed look. “Don’t be rude, Nance.”
“And he made a mess of the first aid kit.”
“I got it,” Leona huffed, getting up from her desk. “You’re such a baby sometimes.”
Nancy stuck her tongue out at Leona as soon as her back was to them.
Holly liked them both well enough, at least more than some of the other women in the Air Exec office. Considered them friends, close enough to go out with, share some drinks and laughs, but she never quite clicked with them on the same level she did Woody. Some kind of disconnect emotionally, never quite able to meet her energy the way she needed.
The two had met in San Francisco a little over a year prior, the weekend Stan was being sent off to the Pacific. Holly went with him, glad she had in hindsight, and among the mischief they got up to their last weekend together, one of Stan’s Navy buddies, Frank, invited them to a party. Woody had been Frank’s date, and in a city bustling with women who'd signed up to help Navy or Marines, the two WAAC women bonded right away. Like the stars aligned. The best weekend of their lives. Nothing short of a relief when they were both stationed at Thorpe Abbotts.
She wasn’t quite sure how to describe her relationship with Woody. Friends didn’t encapsulate the complexity of how deeply she felt for her, the certainty with which she knew she could rely on her. She found herself hard pressed to find anyone who understood her the way Woody did.
Holly didn’t see Bucky for a few more hours, and wondered how he could possibly get shut-eye with all of the commotion. If it wasn’t the combined clicking of half a dozen typewriters, it was the talking, a whirlwind of new reports and telegrams and projects to be started and those subsequently scrapped near completion because something had changed, which then affected everything else and brought everyone back to square one.
Quite different from the law firm she worked for as a typist prior to the war. Typically kept up case files and typed up minutes and summaries for various meetings. Sometimes, the lawyers would bring her with them on the cases that went to trial instead of being settled out of court, needing a typist to sit in and record testimonies. While her knowledge of shorthand helped back then, learning the United States Army Air Force acronyms and jargon was like learning another language, not to mention the plethora of accents she had to interpret on top of that.
At least it was interesting work, important work. Kept her on her toes, like she figured Bucky would, as around noon, when she made her leave to get lunch, he emerged from his office and rushed over to her just as she was walking out the door.
“Mind if I join you? I’m still learning my way around,” he said.
“Isn’t half your job knowing where you’re going, Major?” she joked.
He grinned. “That’s the navigator’s job. I’m a pilot, doll.”
“Well, I’m no navigator, but I think I can get us to mess in one piece, as long as you don’t mind walking.”
“Not at all.”
“You won’t be saying that for long, believe me. It rains so much here, you’d think you’d need a rowboat to get around.”
“Know where I can find one of those?”
She shook her head. “What you need is a bike. They’re hard to get a hold of, but since you’re a Major and all, you can probably get your hands on one easier than most.”
“See? I’m learning from you already.”
On their walk over, it became clear Bucky’s fanaticism for the Yankees rivaled Holly’s feverish devotion to the Nationals, and when he made a joke at their expense, he almost thought she took it as a personal offense. She also made a passing remark about how if she had any doubts about city life, it had been snuffed out after a mere two weeks in Thorpe Abbotts, the countryside charm wearing off rather quickly for her. Bucky agreed, neglecting to mention he hadn’t experienced much of fast-paced, city living himself, but he knew he’d thrive in it given the opportunity.
“So, you writing to anyone back home?” he asked when they found a table to sit at.
“Just my parents and a few friends.”
“No boyfriend?”
Her lips pressed together in a thin line. “No.”
“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with that. I mean, I don’t have a girlfriend or anything.”
“It’s not that. I was engaged but…he died.”
“Was he a pilot?”
She shook her head. “Navy. Was killed at Midway last year. His name was Stan.”
“Shit, yeah,” he said softly, “I remember watching the newsreels from that.”
“I could never bring myself to watch ‘em.”
Biggest naval battle in history. The headlines screamed it. Boisterous radio and newsreel announcers regaled the public on the heroic exploits of the members of the Navy and Marines who took on and triumphed over their formidable Japanese enemies. He remembered the restless envy that tore through his gut with each newspaper article, each newsreel—not over the coverage or accolades, but of the action. Lucky bastards got to give the enemy a taste of their own medicine while the 100th was still running practice missions. He hadn’t considered the losses very much. Didn’t have reason to until then.
“Jesus, I’m sorry, Holly. I feel like a real jerk.”
She shrugged, a weak smile spreading across her lips. “Don’t apologize, you couldn’t have known. Just make sure you hit ‘em where it hurts when you’re up there. Doesn’t matter what continent. It’s all the same.”
He nodded. “You got it, Sarge. I’m goin’ up in two days. We’ll give ‘em hell.”
“Good,” she said. Cleared her throat, tried to shake off the sadness that slithered through her like a snake. “So, where’s the rest of the 100th?”
“Got lost coming over here,” Bucky said, laughing when her eyes widened. “Hey, I’m kidding! They’re still training stateside. They’ll be here in a few weeks. June, probably.”
“Anyone single?” Holly asked, quickly adding, “Leona and Nancy wanted me to ask.”
“Off the top of my head? Crank, Douglass, Brady, DeMarco…” He grinned. “Hey, maybe you can type up a list for me.”
She laughed. “Sure I can.”
“You gotta meet Buck. I think you’d really like him.”
His best buddy. Second best pilot in the 100th, only following him, of course. The one of the greatest storytellers she would ever meet. Pretty much inseparable since they met at basic. Didn’t mention how being the focus of Buck’s attention felt like being on top of the world, could send him even higher than any of the forts did. Couldn’t think of a time he felt that way about anyone else.
“He sounds terrific.”
“Pretty square, though—“
“Square?”
“The guy doesn’t drink, doesn’t smoke, doesn’t like sports, including baseball, and he’s been dating the same dame since high school.”
“You make the last one sound like a bad thing.”
“Well, it will be for Nancy and Leona’s list.”
“Are we seriously going to make one?”
Bucky snickered, increasingly amused with the idea the more he thought about it. “Why not?”
——
If Holly minded Bucky’s company, she never said anything about it. Didn’t bat an eye when he’d tag along to wherever she was headed to every now and then. Sometimes on her own, but she spent a lot of time with Woody, and the more he was around the two of them, the more he was itching for Buck to finally make it over.
The Wilhelmshaven mission rattled Bucky. His first. Poor Duvall caught the bad end of flak and was covered in blood and barely hanging on when the fort landed back at the air base. Woody’s voice wavered when she told Holly about it, the state of the navigator. Woody was friends or friendly enough with most of the bomber boys by virtue of working on their forts, their babies, really. Being ground crew meant she also had the unfortunate burden of witnessing firsthand the aftermath of the brutality the bomber crews faced in the skies.
Suddenly, Bucky carried the same weariness Holly had seen the other men wrestle with in their own ways. She was hardly surprised when Bucky drowned his in alcohol at the village pub, inviting her and Woody along to join him and some of his fellow pilots for a nightcap, a celebration of Bucky’s first mission.
“Mark my words, Holly,” Bucky said, well into his fourth beer. “If there’s gonna be two pilots left in the sky by the end of this war, it’s gonna be Buck and me. I’d bet anything on it.”
His certainty caught in his throat when her smile didn't quite reach her eyes.
“That’s hopeful.”
“You make that sound like a bad thing.”
“It’s not,” she said softly. “Sometimes I think too much about what could go wrong. I’m sorry, Bucky.”
A stormy melancholy hung above Holly once in a while, and though it never poured, she withdrew within herself. Some mornings, she greeted him with a shadow of the smile he always looked for as soon as he walked into the office. On those days especially, he reached out, tried to bridge the gap between them with whatever story or one-sided conversation he could think of.
He had asked Woody about it, knowing she’d be able to explain it to him better than anyone else. Only started after Stan died. Unnerved some people, annoyed others who thought she was being too dramatic, moping for so long over the man. Her behavior could be erratic, mostly self-isolating, occasionally self-destructive, but that aspect hadn’t reared its ugly head for some time.
“I wish you knew her before,” Woody had told him quietly. “She wasn’t always like this.”
“I like her just fine now,” he’d answered, almost defensively.
“Good. She thinks the world of you, Bucky.”
His heart had jumped. Stopped himself from saying the same.
Now, however, sitting with Holly in the small pub, He smiled, smacking his palm against the table, a mischievous gleam in his eye. “I know what’ll cheer you up. How about a song?”
“You can sing?”
“Nope.”
But he did anyway. Blue Skies. Enthusiastic. Off-key. Loud. Ran around the place like someone lit a fire under his ass while the pub erupted in cheers and heckling at his performance.
“What the hell is he doing?” Woody asked, sitting down next to Holly, half-drunk glass of beer in hand.
“Trying to cheer me up."
Singing certainly wasn’t his forte, and adding dancing to the mix only served to make the performance worse. He crashed into a nearby table, sending glasses to the ground with shrill shatters that cut through his song. Holly’s hand flew to her mouth as she tried to stifle her laughter at the mess and the fact that he kept going. Pulled the exasperated barmaid in for a twirl, and she nearly hit him with her tray.
“He’s nuts,” Woody laughed.
Holly grinned, clapping enthusiastically when Bucky concluded the song, half out of breath, perspiration on his forehead. “Yeah, he is.”
“How about another round and an encore?” he asked when he returned to the table, pleased with himself at how big Holly’s smile was.
“Yes to another round!” Woody exclaimed. “Hold the encore.”
——
June didn’t offer a reprieve from the incessant English rain, but by the second week of the month, it brought Buck Cleven, and as far as Bucky was concerned, things were as right with the world as they could be, all things considered.
He tried not to think about the possibility of Buck not liking Holly. Knew he wouldn’t show it even if he somehow weren’t all that fond of her, ever the gentleman, good ol’ Buck. But Bucky had heard one too many guys make some snide remark about Holly and her odd behavior, her grief, to leave him with more than a few healthy grudges. Still, he wasn’t shocked at Buck’s incredulous attitude when he brought up Holly.
“Where are we going?” Buck asked from the passenger seat of the jeep.
“Quick pit stop to the Air Exec office,” Bucky said. “You gotta meet her—Sergeant Holly Dean, best typist you’ll ever see in your life.”
“Bucky—“
“C’mon, I talked you up to her! She’s keen to meet you.”
Buck shook his head. “You want me to humor your little girlfriend?”
“It’s not—Buck, come on.” Bucky scoffed. “What, I can’t have friends now?”
Buck hummed. “Sure. Friends.”
“She’s great, Buck. We should all go out sometime. You’ll see.”
“You know, Marge went to the trouble of introducing you to Peggy—”
“Holly’s fun! She makes the desk job less boring.”
“Whatever you say,” Buck said as the office came into view.
Holly swore she heard Nancy whisper “oh my god” when Bucky walked into the Air Exec office with whom she could only assume was Buck Cleven. She took in a deep breath in an attempt to even out her palpitating heartbeat. He almost looked like he walked off of a movie set.
Then he took off his cap and smiled at them, introduced himself to Nancy first, who managed a quiet “Hello Major,” and then to Leona, whose deep eyes almost bore a hole through the pilot. Holly swallowed roughly when he made his way over to her.
“You must be Holly, then,” he said. “Buck Cleven, it's nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you, too," she said, glancing between him and Bucky. "I already know I’m gonna get your names mixed up, so I’m sorry in advance, sir.”
Buck smiled. “My first name is Gale, if that helps.”
“Gale’s a great name. Why go by Buck?”
“On account of this one,” Buck said, gesturing to Bucky. “He doesn’t have any manners, if you haven’t noticed.”
“He’s swell,” Holly said. “Best Air Exec we’ve had yet.”
“Heard you’ve been keeping an eye on him for me.”
“Trying my best, sir.”
“Well, he’s in one piece, so you’re doin’ a pretty good job.”
Kind and handsome—and woefully taken. But not perfect. Didn’t like booze or baseball, pretty much non-negotiables as far as she was concerned. Nancy and Leona didn’t know that, though. Neither of them had Bucky’s insider knowledge the way she did. Maybe it wouldn’t have mattered to them all that much, anyway. Most importantly, she wasn’t ready to date again. Ignored who came to mind when she thought of where she’d like to start, though. Probably ruin a damn good thing if she did.
“It was nice meeting you ladies. I’m sure we’ll see each other around,” Buck said kindly.
“Don’t be a stranger, Major,” Leona said.
Nancy nodded enthusiastically in agreement.
“You girls behave while I’m gone,” Bucky joked.
As soon as the door closed behind them, the three typists shared dazed expressions.
“Was he on that list you gave us?” Nancy asked.
“Not a chance,” Holly said. “Bucky says Buck is hopelessly devoted to his girl back home.”
Leona groaned. “That was the most gorgeously unavailable man I’ve ever seen in my life. I need to have a drink or four over it tonight.”
——
The day of Buck’s first mission, Bucky clung to Holly the way a child would a blanket during a bad thunderstorm. He felt ridiculous making the comparison between himself and her, but he knew she’d understand the uncertainty, the waiting. Didn’t say anything when he found lame excuses to keep her working in his office, unsure of how else to express that he didn’t want to be alone with himself, with his thoughts.
The practice missions were just that—practice. Though Buck took them on with all of the focus and skill of real missions, there wasn’t much risk involved. Death couldn’t reach out its cold hands and touch them quite yet, but on his first mission, Bucky swore he felt its frigid grip on his shoulder, trying to pull him away with it somehow. Learned how to ignore it by his second mission, not to see its face behind his eyes every time he blinked or hear it calling for him with each burst of flak. But he couldn’t tell Buck, no way for him to understand until he was up there and experienced it for himself. Maybe that was why Holly sometimes retreated into silence when it came to Stan.
Wondered how she felt before she got the news about Stan. Was she expecting it? Had a gut feeling that she hoped was indigestion? Blindsided and crushed? He couldn’t bring himself to ask. Wasn’t sure he could handle knowing her answer.
Instead, they talked baseball, as she’d given him a Lou Gehrig card she got from an old pack of Big League Chewing Gum, having inexplicably brought her modest collection of baseball cards over to England with her. Had a Yankee among her more treasured cards and didn’t think twice about giving it to him. So Lou found his home among Bucky’s two rosaries and various homegrown talismans that carried his hope and superstition. Took the place of his lucky deuce which he’d given to Buck that morning, not that he’d dream of biting a corner off of it.
He scratched the bridge of his nose, avoiding eye contact with her as he said, “Thanks for putting up with me.”
“What do you mean ‘putting up with you’?” she asked. “I like being with you.”
“Yeah, me too.”
He almost couldn’t believe how close they’d become in the weeks since they met. So close that every so often, they’d be asked if they were a couple, brushing off the assumptions with laughter and the answer that no, they weren’t. Hell, even Buck assumed it before he met Holly. But really, he couldn’t think of how much would change between them if they were. Didn’t matter. He knew things would be okay if he had Holly around, no matter how that looked.
“Hey, shouldn’t they be getting back soon?”
“Shit, you’re right. I’ll see you later, Holly.”
“See you, Bucky,” she said, taking his hand in hers and giving it a gentle squeeze before releasing it. “Take care.”
He nodded silently, slipping the hand she held into his jacket pocket when he turned to leave, wanting the warm, comforting feeling to last until he could see ‘Our Baby’ approaching and finally relax. A smile spread across his face, but there was no way for her to have seen it.
#bucky egan x oc#john egan x oc#masters of the air#bucky egan#john egan#masters of the air x oc#mota x oc#mota fanfic#masters of the air fanfic#mota#hbo war#hbo war fanfic#ch: holly
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