#repeat for a month there’s some casual small talk going on | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

stxrvel · 10 months

Text

not my one

summary: bucky was in love with you, from the bones to the tips of his hair, and life would be perfect for him if it weren't for the fact that you had just gotten engaged to Steve.

pairing: (bucky barnes x) f!reader x steve rogers

words: 4k

warnings: some bad words, bucky regretting a lot of things, bucky suffers a lot, reader is not aware of anything, miscommunication, bucky can be unfair to those around him. love triangle?¿ also angst. like i said before, there's no happy endings in this account.

note: hi! i had this in my drafts too for days until my inspiration strike again, and also only by leehi was playing on repeat on my headphones while writing this. if you want a full experience, i highly recommend you to listen to that song while reading. there's something in using a love song to write a heartbreaking story. anyway, i hope you all like this!! and i dont know when ill see you again so i really hope you guys enjoy this one. feedback is always appreciated! <3

So… Bucky knew it was wrong. From the beginning, from the first furtive glance, from the first unexpected, not at all reciprocal, brush. Bucky knew it was very wrong. His moral compass was shot when his thoughts, his intentions, went south and he couldn't stop them, or just didn't want to. At first it was hard to stop them, but at least he knew he intended to. After a good while, Bucky couldn't be sure he was really trying to stop it at all.

His gaze wandered in the crowds, among familiar faces, but only one that really cheered his soul. Guilt followed him, too. Maybe he had stopped fighting the feeling, but that didn't make it any more bearable. Seeing those two faces, smiling at them like it was nothing, asking them about the ring as if it were casual small talk while his heart contracted, made him feel like a traitor every day, and that guilt hung on his back like a bag full of stones. He carried his own sin like the unworthy one he was.

Still, he loved carrying those little moments in his heart, as if they really meant something, as if he didn't feel like he lost something every time he did it, as if butterflies flew around him when they did and everyone around him got as excited as he did, as if all the love songs came true in a single moment. As if saying I love you was as easy as breathing.

“Bucky, what do you say?”

But that was all just in his head.

“I'm with Natasha this time.”

The whole table was filled with shouts and boos. Bucky felt like he could shrink back in his seat and disappear.

Your face was right in front of his, a huge smile made your eyes sparkle. Everyone he knew was gathered and there were so many places Bucky could look, but he couldn't tear his gaze away from the curve of your lips. It was electrifying the way a simple distant gesture could ignite his body like that.

And it was shattering the way he had to remind himself that he couldn't stare for that long.

Not when the first person you saw after laughing was Steve. Not when the first hand you held was his. Not when those sparkling eyes were only for him. Bucky had to remind himself that he couldn't stare at you too long because you were his, for Steve, even though Bucky felt like he was eternally yours.

Bucky could remember the first time he'd seen you because it had been the first time he'd felt alive after so long living in the shadows and dust.

He was fixing his motorcycle, as he used to do countless times, instead of having gone out with his friends to the dinner that night that Wanda had scheduled. Every month they had an outing and one of them had to organize it. That was how they'd basically managed to stay in touch after so long after being out of college.

Bucky knew everyone was going to hate him for canceling at the last minute, but he really didn't feel like going out. So he sat outside his garage with his motorcycle looking for any slightest mistake he could fix or any scratches he could paint while he spent the entire day just there. That was his plan. But everything changed the moment you suddenly appeared in front of him, in a white flowered dress that he could still remember, that you actually still wore, and asked him if he could help you. With those doe eyes and a pout Bucky couldn't have escaped you, even if he wanted to.

“Excuse me, hello,” Bucky heard your voice for the first time and raised his head as if he knew what was in store for him.

Seeing you for the first time was very pleasurable, Bucky truly thought you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his entire life. The tool in his hand was halfway through fixing something on his motorcycle when his hand froze and his lips remained pursed. When he thought about it from time to time, Bucky thought he must have looked like an idiot.

“I don't want to bother you. Uhm… I'm Y/N. I just moved into the house over there,” you moved to point to one of the houses in the neighborhood that Bucky had seen for sale, being so far inside his own head to even realize that someone actually moved in there. “I wanted to know if… Well, it's just that I see you fix things and I- My car broke down. I don't know what's wrong with it, but it won't start with anything. I don't know anybody around either and only you were around, could you help me?”

Bucky had never heard a person ramble on like that. Rather he could say he had never heard such a melodic voice nor had he ever found a person who just rambled so tender and entertaining.

He took a moment to look behind you, where indeed there was a black car parked near the approach with the hood open. Returning his gaze back to you, he found you anxiously waving interlocked hands and a slightly frowning brow.

“Sure,” was all he said.

The smile you sketched for him felt like a reward.

“Thank you! Really thank you so much.”

Bucky could only nod as he picked himself up off the floor.

At that moment, your gaze lowered and met the bare chest of a man who spent every morning looking for something to fix on his perfectly good motorcycle. Bucky didn't think it was ever possible again, but he felt his cheeks redden.

“I'm going to-” Bucky motioned pointing to his house and then to his bare chest and then disappeared behind the door leading into his living room from the garage.

As he entered he had leaned against the closed door and berated himself for acting like a teenager and not a responsible adult who paid his taxes on time.

He came back out a few minutes later wearing a dark shirt and found you circling around his bike, looking at it as if you were in a museum. When he approached, you straightened up in embarrassment. Bucky wondered what you could feel embarrassed for when your very existence was worthy of being admired like that in a huge museum.

“Is that your car over there?” he asked stupidly, pointing to the only car parked along the road.

But as if that hadn't been too obvious a remark, you nodded animatedly and started walking in the direction of the vehicle. It looked like that huge grin wasn't going to disappear from your face since he agreed to help you, and Bucky felt like he was going to get in trouble for it.

“It came out of the garage very normally and I parked it here. I turned the engine off and went inside to get some stuff out and when I came back it just wouldn't start,” you explained with a cute frown, as you moved closer and closer to the car, that he couldn't stop staring at as if that was what he had to fix.

“Okay,” he almost whispered, and was startled as you moved closer to him to hear what he was saying. “You can stay in the seat and turn it on when I tell you.”

You shook your head animatedly again and went to sit down to wait for his direction. Bucky lingered for a moment processing the delicious floral, sweet smell, and the vanilla that your perfume gave off. He felt it wouldn't be long before it became his favorite scent. The lavender and vanilla. Bucky wasn't even a fan of ice cream or flowers.

He reluctantly looked down, letting the scent escape into the air. He quickly spot the problem and, after a simple motion, reached up to lower the hood.

“You can turn it on now.”

Bucky watched your surprised face, eyebrows raised and lips curved in a circle. It startled him how fast you were making his heart move in such a short time. How was that even possible?

It was even better when you moved the key and the car started without a hitch, with that giant crescent smile that almost hid your eyes completely. By the time you got out of the car, any trace of discomfort or nervousness in you was gone.

“Thank you very, very, very much. You don't know what you just saved me from…”

Bucky stared intently into your shining eyes, as if in the midst of a trance, as if he had to do it to live. He became so immersed in his introspection that he almost didn't notice that you were waiting for him to give you his name.

“Bucky.”

“Bucky…”

He almost melted at your melodious voice repeating his name as simple as butter, as if that's the way it had always been.

“Thank you so much, Bucky.”

He nodded, barely curving his lips into a half smile, and that also served as a farewell.

Bucky didn't know, or maybe he did, that from that moment on he wasn't going to be able to get you out of his head. And even if he tried, doing so would be more painful than simply leaving you there growing in his thoughts like ivy.

Bucky had spent many nights thinking about what had gone wrong. He replayed conversations in his head endlessly, like a broken record he replayed his own words, thought about what it all would have been like if he had done something different, if he had said something different, if that really would have been a relief to his heart. Bucky had already thought of everything, but really the only answer is that you were not meant to be together as he'd imagined.

Nothing was ever reciprocated. Any spark, any friction, it all had to have been inside his head because there was no other explanation.

And everything changed that night.

He had talked to you too many times since your car thing, even though it was hard for him. You had been to his house and he had been to yours almost countless times. You would meet in town and drive back together. You walked early on weekends. You brought him the best dishes he'd ever tasted in his life to eat together….

And he decided to take you to meet his friends. Even before he took you on a date. Before talking about what you had. Before a kiss. Before sleeping together.

For Bucky there was nothing more important than you meeting his friends. That's how big his love was, even if sometimes he lied so he wouldn't see them. It was his way of loving.

Every day of his life he regretted that decision because that night it was all about Steve and you. That night he felt like the world was falling apart on him. Everyone was talking about Steve and you. That you had so much in common, that you would make a cute couple, that your children would be beautiful. Bucky loved his friends, but that night…

After that everything went to hell.

As if you'd never met him, your days began to fill with Steve.

“Where are you going?”

“Oh. I'm going to meet Steve. We have a reservation.”

“Ah.”

Every day. There wasn't a day when he didn't hear his best friend's name come out of your mouth, sentencing him to eternal agony, because Bucky was never able to tell him that he loved you first, that he fell in love first. He couldn't do that to Steve who in so many things had been with him and had gone through so much.

“Are you free tonight?”

“No, Buck, I'm sorry. I'm going out with Steve.”

“Oh, sure. Is he coming to pick you up?”

“No, I'll take a cab.”

“At this hour?”

“Don't worry. I'll text you when I get there.”

And you did. But you wrote him too much. You told him how amazing the date had gone. You described how good you felt around him. And you confessed to him that you'd kissed.

Bucky thought about moving out after that.

“Hi, Bucky!”

But he also thought about how hard it would be to be so far away from you. Maybe it was worth it to avoid a broken heart, but…. No, it was too late for that now.

“Are you doing anything tonight?”

He lifted his head so fast he felt a whiplash of tension run down his back.

“No. Why?”

Could it be possible that…?

“Then you are cordially invited to a game night at my house. Sincerely, Steve and I.”

Steve and I.

Bucky shouldn't have been disappointed because he knew he shouldn't have felt hope in the first place, but he didn't expect to feel the anger bubbling in his chest either. You walked away like it was nothing after that, with a huge smile on your face, the one that made him fall in love with you in the first place. You walked animatedly as if you hadn't just stomped his heart to smithereens. You walked totally oblivious to the overwhelming guilt that grew from the pit of his stomach to plant itself in his chest for the first time.

You didn't even know anything. There was no way Bucky could blame you. Not even Steve. He had only himself to blame. For not speaking up first, for waiting so long, for not taking the risk.

Bucky didn't go to that game night.

Not the next one, not the one after that, not the one after that, not the one after that, not the one after that either…

Bucky stopped going to his friends' monthly meetings. He always said he had too much work. And yes, he dragged out his own work so he wouldn't even risk thinking about all he had lost.

At least five months passed and it was a year to the day since that night when Bucky made the worst mistake of his life.

That night he was surprised to find Steve outside his door.

He had just come home from work. It was close to ten o'clock at night. His face was cold from the weather and from not wearing his helmet since entering his residential area.

“Steve,” was his greeting.

“Bucky,” his friend reciprocated as he parked the bike in his garage.

Reluctant to any kind of conversation that might come up that night, Bucky tried to find any possible excuse to get Steve to leave. But he took too long.

“We're neighbors now,” was all Steve said, once Bucky got off the bike and turned to face him.

“What?”

“I moved in with Y/N today. I live with her now.”

Like a hundred broken panes of glass Bucky's heart sounded every time it pounded. His friend's sparkling eyes were telling him, screaming at him to say something, to congratulate him, a few words, but his breath caught in his throat and he didn't even feel like he could trust his own legs at that moment.

You had moved in together.

You loved Steve so much that you'd asked him to move in with you.

“That's good, Steve.”

Not even great, just good. The words came almost slurred out of his mouth, and yes, his own head ripped the words out of him before it became too awkward and suspicious a silence.

“We tried to call you to come by after work. We had a little party.”

“I had my cell phone on silent.”

Bullshit. Bucky had seen every call, even yours, along with your messages, and had spent a good while just staring at the screen wondering what it could be about that both of you at the same time wanted to contact him.

“I figured.”

Steve sighed, and for a second Bucky thought he had figured it out. From the look on his face, Bucky figured he'd tell him to stay away from you and not try to get close because he'll have him between his eyebrows.

“You can stop by tomorrow at breakfast, if you want.”

Somehow, that was worse.

“No, thanks.”

“Buck-”

“I'm leaving very early for work.”

“Bucky-”

“I can't, Steve, I'm sorry.”

“Bucky, we haven't seen you in months.”

The aforementioned stood halfway through opening the door to his living room, almost completely forgetting that had he gone through to the other side he would have locked his best friend in his garage and, for a moment, that almost didn't even matter to him. The thought scared him.

“It's been about four months since I've seen you in person. I figured you were going through something and needed time, but hasn't it been a long time already?”

“Five.”

“What?”

“It's been five months,” Bucky turned to look at his friend unhinged face and guilt washed over him once more, as strong as the first time, a great wave breaking the sand. “Come in. So you can go out the front door because I already locked that door and it's electric and very slow and…”

The sympathetic expression on Steve's face didn't please him, he decided he didn't like it. It looked like he was looking at him with sorrow, with pain, but he didn't understand, he wasn't going through half of what Bucky was feeling everyday, he didn't have the slightest idea. He was going to a warm bed after this, at least, and Bucky would get to the great solitude of his thoughts.

No. Steve didn't understand shit.

“Don't look at me with that fucking face,” he exclaimed before he could stop himself. “Just leave.”

Bucky thought about that hurt expression on Steve's face for several days.

Two months later, somehow, you had convinced Bucky to attend one of your monthly meetings. It was so hard and yet so easy to make that decision, because you had gone all the way to his house and knocked on his door and asked him to come so many times that he couldn't say no just to avoid seeing your disappointed face.

And so it had come to that moment. That moment where everyone was booing Natasha and Bucky could tell by your huge smile that he hadn't gotten over you one bit. Two months without seeing you had been for nothing. That zero contact method surely only worked with teenagers.

As the laughter dissipated, Bucky thought about all he had been through and all he had suffered in silence. He hated that he couldn't hate anyone because everything that had happened was his fault. He hated every time he logged on to his text app and had to find himself in the group chat various messages about how Steve and you made such a great couple that neither of them could wait for you to get married.

Maybe Bucky complained too much.

Because the next thing he knew, everyone gathered around the table and you announced your engagement to Steve. When the table was again filled with shouts and applause, Bucky couldn't take his eyes off the giant ketchup stain on the table that Natasha had caused by getting too excited about the news. The envelope had been crushed by her hand, splattering its contents on that piece of the table and even on the shirts of those nearby. But no one really cared, because you and Steve were getting married. No one except…

... Bucky's weak and bruised heart, which despite the months could never stop beating just for you. Even though he tried, for his sake, for the sake of your friendship, for the sake of being happy for his best friend, he simply could not. It was a losing battle for him from the start. Ever since you showed up in his front yard in that blessed white flowered dress you were wearing now to deliver that news, and you smiled gratefully at him with the same smile you had now as you were encircled by Wanda and Tony's arms.

Bucky wanted to say that he'd grown accustomed to the pain that accompanies a broken heart, but the truth was that it never got easier. Every time he felt that pain, he prayed he wouldn't have to feel it again, because the pain that followed was so much stronger, so much so that he felt it suck the air out of him and a hollowness made its space inside his chest.

Bucky was really struggling to keep his composure at that moment.

But when he looked away from the large ketchup stain on the table, he met Steve's eyes, and somehow he knew. Bucky knew that he knew. However it was, coincidence or fate, Bucky realized that Steve knew what was going through his head.

And, for some reason, Steve didn't look angry.

But Bucky wasn't taking that pressure. Feeling invisible hands suffocating him.

So he barely mumbled an apology to him and ran out of the house.

His intention was to make it to the safety of his house, but his legs only gave out until he found his motorcycle parked in front of the future husband and wife's house.

His breathing was heavy, rapid and ragged. Of all the heartbreaks, that one was perhaps the most painful.

“Bucky?”

Hearing your voice behind him as he tried to fight the anxiety of not crying, not that moment, not in that place, not when it could be so obvious to you, was like a bucket of cold water. He suddenly felt alert, uncovered.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes. Why?”

“You ran out of the house.”

Although he tried to avoid it, the first thing he saw when you stepped around him to face him was the large ring that was now part of you. It was beautiful and delicate, Steve had made a good choice.

“I was overwhelmed for a moment. The screaming and stuff,” he gave you a lousy excuse, but it seemed to convince you enough.

“Oh, sure, I'm sorry. Do you want me to make you some tea? I've got a soothing one.”

“No,” Bucky shook his head quickly. “No need. I'd better go to my place.”

“So soon?”

Bucky looked into those deer eyes he loved so much and it hurt so much to think that would be the last time he saw them.

“Yeah, I'll feel better there. Don't worry.”

“Text me if you need anything.”

“Sure,” he wasn't going to. “Ah, congratulations on the engagement.”

Bucky was going to leave it at that, at a few simple words he tried to say with his heart in his hand, but you went further and jumped in to hug him by wrapping your arms around his neck. He felt dizzy for a moment.

“If it wasn't for you I never would have met him. Thanks, Buck.”

Bucky swallowed hard to keep from collapsing right there in your arms.

“Sure.”

“And to think I thought I'd end up with you,” you blurted out with a chuckle, as if it was nothing, as you backed away from his body, as if you hadn't just dropped a bomb on his face.

Bucky went cold.

“What?”

You laughed again, as if it was nothing more than a funny anecdote from adolescence or college. His chest heaved from the pain, his heart pounding so hard he felt it behind his ears. Hands sweaty, he didn't feel ready to listen to you.

“When we first met I liked you, Bucky, and I thought maybe we could work something out… But then I met Steve and it was… Wow, like fireworks.”

“Ah.”

“I guess things really do happen for a reason.”

“Yeah, right,” Bucky replied on automatic, afraid that any distraction would give him a glimpse, trying to even out his breathing.

“Well, you know, text me if you need anything.”

“Yeah.”

“Bye.”

“See you at the wedding, huh.”

“Sure.”

Bucky followed you with his eyes as you walked back to your driveway, where Steve was waiting for you. His gaze lit up as much as yours every time he saw you and the lump in Bucky's throat kept getting bigger and bigger. He couldn't be one second closer to that house.

But then you walked into the house and Bucky met Steve's gaze.

He started to get on his bike as his best friend started walking towards him.

“Why didn't you ever say anything?”

Bucky remained sitting on the bike, helmet in his hands.

“I'm not going to talk about this with you now, Steve.”

“No, Bucky, you're not going to do this again. Answer me.”

“Steve…”

“Answer me!”

Bucky turned to see his friend's contracted face and knew where his anger was coming from. It wasn't against him, it wasn't against his feelings.

“I just… I couldn't do it.”

“And that's all?”

“Yeah, that's all,” Bucky started the bike. “I couldn't say anything when I saw you smile for the first time in months. Not when you actually looked happy after everything you went through.”

“What I went through? What we went through, Bucky! We both suffered through it and you… you…”

“Whatever it is, Steve, it's over. The time is past. It's all behind us.”

“Bucky…” Steve slurred the words, incredulous, pained to see his best friend allowed to suffer like that. In deep pain because he knew if it had been the other way around he would have done the same.

“I'll be fine. Send me the invitation to the wedding. I promise I'll be there, if you want me there. And I'll be fine by then. I'll be fine.”

Bucky finally put on the case and without waiting for final words from Steve, he took off riding to an aimless destination.

He didn't know if he would be better by the time the wedding happened, because thinking about it at that moment made the tears run desperately down his cheeks, even though the wind dried them very quickly, just as they were replaced by others and others.

Bucky had no idea if he would ever be well again, but he had to try. He had to try because at that moment he felt like he would die.

#bucky fanfic #james bucky barnes #james barnes #winter soldier #bucky fic #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky imagine #bucky angst #bucky barnes angst #bucky x female reader #bucky fluff #bucky x reader #bucky x you #avengers #marvel

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moonspirit · 27 days

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More Papamin!( ̀⌄ ́)Please！

Aahhhhh hello, and I'm sorry, I actually have more papamin drafts saved but didn't have much time to flesh them out T^T

But have this!

Papamin Propaganda #8:

When aruani firstborn daughter is old enough and going to elementary school, she often overhears her classmates talking about the reaction of how their parents felt when they were born.

One boy says, "My dad said when I was born, I looked like a warrior!"

One girl says, "My mom said i looked like a little diamond!"

Another kid says, "My parents said I looked like a baby cow. I was really cute."

They ask her: "What did you look like?"

But she's stumped for an answer. "... I-I don't know..."

Later that week, she finds her mother folding laundry slowly, looking a bit tired.

"Mama."

"Hm?"

"What did I look like?"

Annie lifts her eyebrows, setting down a pile of shirts. "What do you mean?"

Her daughter shifts from foot to foot. "When I came out of here," She reaches out to pat Annie's swollen belly. "What did I look like?"

"Hmm," Annie lightly hums, swishing her lips to a side. "You looked like a potato."

Her daughter is aghast. "A potato?!"

"Yup. A potato," Annie nods matter of factly. "Go ask your father, he's the one who said it first."

Off goes her daughter, marching to the kitchen, anxious and disappointed. On her way she spots a small basket of potatoes in the pantry, all brown and fairly ugly. Not a warrior, not a diamond, not a baby cow but a potato?! What will she tell her friends? They'll laugh!

She finds her father before the stove, chopping vegetables in a casual shirt, sleeves rolled up. It's the off season for her parents, there are no diplomatic meetings for a few months.

"Papa," She says, sidling up next to him, standing on her tip toes to see the array of chopped ingredients on the counter.

"Yes?" He says sweetly, flashing her a smile.

"Is it true that-"

But she's cut off by the pressure cooker letting out a shrill whistle of steam. Armin turns off the stove. A delicious aroma wafts from it. Something a little familiar though she can't put her finger on what.

"What was that?"

His daughter hesitates, biting her lip. "Is it true that... I looked like a potato?"

"A potato?" He repeats with mild intrigue, giving her a brief look.

"When I was born," She says louder, more dejected. "Mama said I looked like a potato."

Now Armin pauses, takes note of her crestfallen face, and throws his head back and starts to laugh.

"Papa!" She whines, heart sinking. So it was true after all. She'd rather not go to school now.

"Oh dear," He chuckles, putting the knife down and crouching down to her height. His hands, smelling of bell peppers and carrots, take hold of her cheeks, squishing them lightly. Disappointed light blue eyes meet amused, bright blue ones.

"You did look like a potato," He confirms, grinning.

"So I was ugly," Her shoulders slump. "Mama said you called me a potato first."

"I did," He chuckles, pinching her nose. "But you know why?"

She stares back dully at his twinkling eyes, not really keen on knowing.

"Because when your mom was pregnant with you, she had a craving for so many different foods," He explains, standing up to pop off the pressure cooker's lid. Thick steam rises from within and the aroma grows stronger. "By the end, all she wanted to eat was one thing though," He raises his eyebrows at her. "Want to take a guess what it was?"

His daughter shrugs.

"Okay," Armin laughs. "Say aaahh-"

She does it out of reflex, "Aaaahhh."

He pops in a chunk of something hot and purple. It melts in her mouth, the sweetness spreading across her tongue.

"Sweet potatoes," He grins. "All she wanted was sweet potatoes. And you looked like the sweetest potato I've ever seen."

She chews slowly, wide eyed and blinking at his highly amused face.

"Annie!" He laughs over his shoulder at approaching footsteps. "You have to tell her the whole story."

Annie steps into the kitchen, looking hungry now. "I... I want some coconut. Do we have any coconut?"

Hm, their daughter thinks, swallowing. Its warm and sweet, travelling down her throat.

Potatoes aren't so bad after all.

#anon ask #papamin propaganda #aruani #attack on titan #aruannie #armin arlert #annie leonhart #shingeki no kyojin #aot #snk #armin x annie #arminarlert #annie leonhardt

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onceuponaoneshotfanfic · 8 months

Text

Something There (Chapter 10)

5.1k words

Roy Kent x Reader

Warnings: Language, fluff, one smutty scene because these two deserve it, lots of flirting, self-indulgent fluff (my chapter 10 tradition at this point!)

A/N: For the full effect, listen to Lavender Haze on repeat while reading because I listened to it almost non-stop while writing 💜

Series Masterlist

The tips of Roy’s fingers tingled as he waited for the door to open. For the last couple of hours, he was convinced he was living in a dream as he got ready for- fuck was it really happening?- their first date.

After their scorching kiss in the rain, Roy had promised to come back at seven to take her out on a real date. One that would involve dinner, drinks, and, hopefully, a return to Roy’s bedroom. He’d rushed home to get himself showered and ready, remembering how anxiously he’d looked at himself in the mirror the night of the gala, wondering about her. This time, however, Roy’s stomach was filled less with anxiety and more with butterflies.

When she opened the door, Roy made no attempt to stop his jaw from dropping. He’d jokingly asked her to wear the little black dress she’d worn at the club all those months ago; apparently, despite her fierce independent streak, she listened well. The dress hugged her curves even better than he’d remembered, she had that perfect model hair that he wanted to touch, and her lips were so red and so kissable. And tonight, Roy got to lean forward and kiss them.

“Hi,” he hummed as he pulled back, leaning in the doorframe casually; even with his heart hammering in his chest, he could at least appear cool.

Apparently it worked, because she gazed up at him with those wide eyes, just as unsure as he felt. “Hey yourself.” She tilted her face to his and stole another kiss, a slow, sweet kiss, one that Roy couldn’t help sighing into. “Ready to go?”

He grabbed her hand and tugged her through the door. “Been ready for a long time.”

The ride to the restaurant was short, filled with hand-holding and easy conversation about their teams. Roy parked in the back, explaining that he’d pulled a couple of strings to get them some privacy. With his hand on the small of her back, he led her through the backdoor, into the kitchen. A hostess was there waiting for them with a bright smile, as though she greeted football legends in the staff parking lot all the time.

“I feel like I’m in Goodfellas,” Buck laughed, gazing up at Roy as they scurried through the kitchen, too wrapped up in each other to notice the smiles of the kitchen staff.

“You ever read the book it's based on?” Roy asked with a grin as they were led out of the kitchen. “It’s fucking great.”

While the hostess led them to a secluded corner, Roy ducked his head, trying not to draw attention. Likewise, Buck nuzzled close to Roy’s chest, turning her smiling face away from the rest of the world. Her smile widened when they entered their little private dining room, with a table set for two and low lighting. He pulled out her chair for her, pressing a kiss to her soft hair before she sat. Her giggle assured him that everything was perfect.

For the first time, the two of them just… talked. They exchanged favorite books and movies. They told childhood stories, especially ones about football. She listened with interest, no pity on her face, when Roy quietly explained his youth in Sunderland. He smiled broadly while she recalled her excitement when she was called up to the US National Women’s Team.

With every word and moment of laughter shared, Roy Kent found himself falling further in love.

“Oi, are you the manager of the Richmond Whippets? The new women’s team?”

I smirked up at the man who slid up next to me at the bar, handsome and bearded and smiling. “Why yes, I am,” I hummed over the pulsing club music. “Say, aren’t you the Roy Kent?”

He nodded, lifting his beer. “I am.” His eyes travelled unabashedly down my figure. “How about I buy you a drink? Give you a proper Richmond welcome?”

“That would be nice.”

Roy quickly ordered my drink, his fingers brushing against mine when he handed it to me. “Welcome to Richmond.”

I bit back a snicker and pressed myself close to him. “Wow, you Greyhounds sure are friendly,” I teased, batting my eyelashes at him. “You treat every coach like this?”

He ducked down to purr in my ear. “Only the gorgeous ones.”

It took every ounce of self-control not to attach my lips to his right then and there. But doing so would ruin the game; Roy, in a shockingly adorable display of romance, had brought me to the club where we’d first spoken, claiming he wanted to ‘make up for being the world’s biggest wanker’ the night we met.

So now he stood, gazing down at me with what could only be described as total affection, his fingertips brushing at the small of my back. “You know, Keeley Jones gave us a little report on you,” he murmured, the sparkle in his eye telling me he was enjoying his little performance. “Olympic gold medalist, hmm?”

I rolled my eyes and tucked some hair behind my ear. “Yes,” I giggled. “World Cup champion as well,” I added, giving him my cockiest grin.

“Wow.” He raised his thick eyebrows, giving an exaggerated look of awe. “Fucking impressive. Your boyfriend must be fucking proud of you.”

I sipped my drink coyly. “No boyfriend,” I answered with a wink.

He leaned closer, his hand wandering further down my backside. “Well then. No one would be mad if I asked you for a dance then?”

Fuck, Roy’s little game was getting me hot.

Roy urged me towards the dance floor, sipping his beer as we walked. Deciding to fuel the flirtation, I turned my back to him, pressing my backside against him. The vibration from his soft groan tickled my back; I’d made the right choice. Sipping my drink, I began to move my hips, melting a little when Roy planted his hand firmly on my hip. It had been a while since I’d last danced with a guy like this, flirty and seductive; but with Roy it was so damn easy. When I gave a particularly wicked grind against him, his breath was on my ear.

“You’re fucking mean,” he growled.

I tilted my face back towards him. “Don’t play nice, remember?”

I could feel his smile against my bare shoulder. “I remember.”

Two songs. We lasted two whole songs of drinking and grinding and flirting. When I felt something hard against my backside, I glanced back at Roy, eyebrows raised.

“Are you inviting me over for a drink or what, Kent?”

Sam Cooke on the stereo. Glasses of Scotch on the coffee table. Roy Kent’s mouth on mine.

It felt familiar to me now, and I couldn’t get enough. He had one hand firmly in my hair while the other wandered up and down my bare thigh. Mine gripped his muscular arms, trying to pull him closer. As I trailed kisses down his jaw, leaving a path of red lipstick stains on his skin, he squirmed and let out a soft groan.

“D’you- d’you want me to drive you home?” His voice was soft and timid, as if he was dreading my answer.

I pulled back from where I’d been planting sloppy kisses on his neck and stood, taking his hand in mine. “Come on, Kent,” I hummed. “Let’s see if I remember where your bedroom is.”

My heels came off in the living room. Roy lost his shirt somewhere in the hallway. The zipper on my dress was halfway down by the time he opened his bedroom door. By the time we fell onto his bed, we were both down to just our underwear and a pair of smiles.

“How’d you manage to get more perfect than last time?” Roy breathed as his eyes followed his hand up my tummy. “Fucking gorgeous.”

“You’re not too bad yourself, Kent,” I teased, running my fingers through his soft, curly hair. “Why d’you think I like running with you so much?” I pressed a kiss to his nose. “You without a shirt? Great view.”

He thanked me for my compliment with a deep kiss and a hand on my breast. I arched into his touch, hooking my leg behind his back and bucking my hips up into him. His other hand roamed down my body until reaching my panties; I mentally thanked myself for the recent impulse purchase of this sexy little lace pair. Roy thumbed at the material, groaning when he brushed against the wet spot that had probably begun to form back at the club.

“Can I take these off?” he murmured, grazing his nose against my cheek. “Pretty fucking please?”

Shit. I could probably come just from the tone of his voice, all sugary and affectionate. The only thing I could do was nod desperately as Roy removed the pesky material. His fingers immediately came to my entrance, rubbing gentle circles, smearing the slick that had already gathered.

Roy buried his face in the crook of my neck. “Fucking hell,” came his muffled moan.

“Roy,” I gasped, giving his hair a little tug. “I swear on my life, if you don’t take your fucking boxers off right now-”

He pulled his face away from my neck and gazed at me with a soft smile. “Fucking needy,” he teased, kissing my forehead. “I have been waiting for this since the gala,” he reminded me, his voice far too relaxed for someone who was inching his fingers into my cunt. “Let me enjoy you.”

So I did. I threw my head back with a soft groan, focusing on the sensation of Roy’s two fingers exploring me, pumping in and out with leisurely ease. He watched my face carefully, smirking every time I shuddered or gasped or did something to show I was enjoying myself. When he added his thumb to my clit, the sound of my lewd moan practically echoed throughout the house.

“Dammit, Buck,” he murmured, kissing my mouth. “You were holding back last time. I fucking love the way you sound.”

I opened my eyes and narrowed them playfully. “Don’t call me ‘Bucky’ in bed, remember?” I nipped at his jaw. “That’s only for the pitch, Roy.”

He laughed and followed my mouth, stealing another kiss as he continued his slow strokes. “What should I call you then? Babe? Gorgeous? Darling?”

The giggle that tumbled past my lips was girlish, almost unrecognizable to me. “Darling, huh? Shit, you sound so English saying that.”

“Forgot you Americans love the accent,” he teased. He brought his lips to my ear, sending shivers down my spine as he whispered, “Darling, I fancy you.”

“Fuck,” I laughed. “That should not turn me on that much.” I gripped his arms tightly, grinding harshly into his hand. “And yet…” I raised my eyebrows coyly. “Roy?”

“Yes, darling?”

I buried my groan against his face. “Are you going to fuck me, or what?”

His laughter filled the room and my heart. “See, this is what happens when two managers get together. Fucking bossy.” He nuzzled his nose against mine. “You’re lucky you’re beautiful.” His eyes sparkled mischievously. “Darling.”

“Well since I’m so damn bossy,” I huffed with a chuckle. My fingertips tingled as I reached down and began tugging down his boxers; a soft groan flew out of my mouth when I felt his leaking tip brush against my already sticky inner thigh.

Bringing his mouth back to mine, Roy slowly removed his fingers, swallowing my reflexive whine. He pulled his face away so he could watch me, his bearded face colored with affection, as he slowly inched into me. His lips curved into a smile when my hips lifted off the bed, my body begging him to thrust into me already.

“Fuck,” I whimpered as my eyes screwed shut.

How could anyone ever hate Roy Kent? How could I ever hate Roy Kent?

Roy Kent, with his fingers that dug into my skin and left a burning trail. Roy Kent, with his mouth that swallowed every moan and swear word that he elicited from my mouth. Roy Kent, with his cock that stretched and filled me as if our bodies were made for each other. Roy Kent, with his delicious growl that said my name like a prayer. Roy Kent, with those soft brown eyes that held the one word neither of us quite knew how to say: love.

The rolling of his hips was slow, intentional, languid, as though we had all the time in the world. The heat and urgency from last time was gone, replaced with affection and tenderness. Along with the utter pleasure between my legs, I felt safe, adored, cherished in Roy’s arms. I ran my hands down the warm skin of his back, my nails softly grazing his skin, hoping he felt the same affection from me.

“Want you so bad,” Roy huffed between thrusts, pressing his damp forehead to mine. “Wanted you- wanted you for a while.”

“You’ve got me,” I assured him. “You’ve fucking got me.”

He nodded, his beard scratching my face deliciously. “I- I really want you,” he repeated breathlessly. “Not just tonight. But… I want you.”

Most other guys, most other nights, this would be far too intimate- especially on a first date. But because it was Roy- and he had those eyes- and was kissing me with that mouth- and all we’d been through to get to this moment-

“Roy Kent,” I whispered, knowing this would be the last coherent sentence I’d be able to manage for a while. “I’m fucking yours.”

It was the happiest morning Roy had experienced in a long time. Maybe the happiest morning ever.

Bucky’s back was pressed against his chest. She was wearing one of his black shirts, her lipstick was completely fucked, her hair was a mess, her neck was covered in little red marks. And she was the most perfect thing Roy had ever seen. She stirred in her sleep, pressing closer to his body. When she mumbled sleepy nonsense, he swore he heard his name on her lips.

Careful not to wake her, Roy wrapped an arm around her to pull her closer. This was what the morning after the gala should have been, he thought to himself. Sleepy bliss as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head, smiling when he breathed in that now familiar scent of lavender and vanilla, his new favorite combination. He wasn’t sure how long he stayed like that, just holding her, but he could see the early morning light begin to peek through the window just as she turned her head to glance at him.

Roy tightened his grip around her middle. “Don’t you fucking dare run away this time,” he joked. “I’m making a proper English breakfast for my favorite Yank.”

She shifted onto her back, stroking Roy’s cheek as she gazed up at him. “No running away,” she promised softly. “I’m afraid there’s no getting rid of me now, Roy Kent.”

“That a fucking promise?” Roy heaved himself on top of her, laughing as he gently squashed her. “So? How about some breakfast?”

“Sounds perfect.” She smacked a kiss to his cheek, which he tried to turn into a real kiss. She ducked away. “Nuh-uh, I’ve got morning breath.”

Roy laughed and followed her mouth. “Do I look like I fucking care?” With that, he stole a real kiss, loving the way she gave into him and even let her tongue brush against his lips. Before he could be tempted to escalate things further, Roy rolled out of bed and held out his hand to her. “Coffee?”

Hand in hand, the two ambled to the kitchen, exchanging bashful smiles when they saw their discarded clothes along the way. Once in the kitchen, Roy grabbed her hips and lifted her onto the counter, savoring her surprised little squeak. He got his coffeemaker going and turned his attention to the fridge so he could start pulling out ingredients.

“Want any help?” she asked from her perch as she tried to smooth down her wild hair.

Roy shook his head, pausing to kiss her nose. “Fuck no. I told you I was making you breakfast, so I’m making you breakfast.”

So she sat, smiling softly as she watched him prepare eggs and sausages and beans and all the other things he’d bought just for her. He brought her a mug of coffee, exchanging it for a slow kiss before returning to his cooking.

“Keeley wasn’t fucking kidding,” she murmured.

Roy turned and looked at her with a curious grin. “Fuck’s that supposed to mean?”

She shrugged. “A while back, just before the gala actually, she was telling me what a great boyfriend you are. Said she could basically write you a letter of recommendation.”

“Boyfriend, huh?” He paused his work to come stand between her thighs, eyebrows raised teasingly.

He loved seeing her blush, all soft and timid compared to her usual toughness. “I mean… you know… we… you’re just…” She rolled her eyes. “Oh, fuck off Kent.” With that, she pressed her mouth to his, as though trying to distract him, or shut him up. Probably both.

Roy laughed against her lips, cupping her face. When he pulled back, he noticed her blush had deepened. “I can be whatever you want,” he murmured softly.

The shyest smile spread across her sleepy face. “How about ‘mine’?” Immediately, her eyes widened and she ducked her head. “Shit,” she laughed awkwardly. “That sounded so… fuck, I’m sorry, is that too…?”

Roy lifted her chin tenderly. “Oi,” he whispered in his softest voice. “I have been fucking waiting to be yours, Buck. For a while now. But if you think things are… are going too fast or if they get too intense or if I…” He cleared his throat. “If I get too clingy… Please fucking tell me.” He brushed his thumb against her bottom lip. “I’m just so fucking happy right now,” he explained. “And I know I can get really fucking intense and clingy and-”

“Roy.” She smiled and brought her hand to his cheek. “I think if any two people have earned the right to be intense and clingy, it’s us, don’t you think?”

“Yeah.” Roy leaned his forehead to hers as a smile spread across his face. “We’ve fucking earned it.”

I spent the entire weekend with Roy. After my full English breakfast and some rather adult activities in the kitchen, Roy drove me home to grab a few things; other than that, we didn’t leave his house at all. We fell into a pattern of sex, and cuddling, and eating, and more sex, all weekend long. I found that I really liked wearing his shirts around his house and eating the food he cooked and laughing at his stories about the Greyhounds and watching the movies he loved- and dammit, I really liked him.

Late Sunday evening, we lounged on his couch, some old black and white movie on the television. I sat back, with my legs thrown over his lap, loving the feeling of his hand roaming up and down my bare legs as he watched the movie. His eyes kept wandering over to me, full of warmth and affection.

My eyes, however, landed on the clock.

“I should head home soon,” I murmured, shifting myself until I was straddling Roy’s lap, facing him. “We should both get some rest after…” I grinned mischievously. “Well, let’s just say it was a very active weekend.”

Roy brushed some loose hair off of my face. “I don’t want rest.” He pressed a slow kiss to my lips. “Fucking want you.”

A low groan escaped my throat as I pressed my forehead to his; fuck, staying in this house forever was tempting. “We’ve got training in the morning, Coach,” I reminded him pointedly, probably reminding myself more.

“Let’s just fucking cancel training then. Tell everyone we’re sick.” The grin he wore told me he was half-joking. Maybe a little less than half.

I ran my fingers through his hair and gently pushed his head back. “Oh yeah, both managers calling in sick,” I scoffed. “That’s not suspicious at all.”

“Fucking spoilsport,” he hummed, pecking my nose. His hand wandered up the black shirt I was borrowing to stroke my bare back. “So, since apparently you’re making me go to work tomorrow, what d’you think about…” He cleared his throat, not quite looking me in the eye. “Tomorrow. At Nelson Road. Are we, I don’t fucking know, telling people? About… this? Us?”

“Oh.” My thumb stroked the crease that had suddenly appeared between his thick eyebrows. “I mean, do you want to?”

Roy sighed. “I don’t fucking know.” He buried his face in my neck, tickling my skin with his beard. “Everything we went through with the fucking pictures… it’d be nice to just keep it to ourselves for a bit, you know? Enjoy ourselves a bit before having everyone’s fucking opinions and comments and questions.” He tapped his nose to mine. “What d’you think?” His brown eyes were full of worry, as if I were about to run away again.

I slipped my arms around his neck. “I think I’d like to keep things quiet,” I admitted. “Let us get used to being together without the damn press making another mess of things.” I smirked. “Plus, keeping things a secret might be kind of sexy. All that sneaking around we’ll be doing,” I teased.

He laughed and pressed a kiss to my forehead. “Have I mentioned yet that you’re fucking perfect?”

“You could mention it again,” I purred, batting my eyelashes at him.

His smile turned mischievous. “One more for the road?” he asked, nodding towards the bedroom.

I scrambled to my feet, pulling him up with me as our now-forgotten movie continued to play. “One more for the road.”

Roy should’ve known that Monday was going to be a challenge. But shit, when she walked into her office with her bouncy ponytail and leggings, Roy thought he was going to explode. Sure, they’d spent all of Sunday night texting after he’d dropped her off at home, but after a weekend of having her in his bed (and several other places around his home), the sight of her had Roy biting back the stupidest fucking smile. If Roy wasn’t careful, he’d look just as goofy and lovesick as-

“Mornin’, Coach!”

Ted stood grinning in the doorway, holding a couple of folders. Roy couldn’t help but notice the little pink lipstick mark on Ted’s cheek.

“You see Rebecca this morning?” Roy asked with a smirk, nodding to Ted’s face.

The American’s eyes went wide as he touched his cheek. “Oh. Well, I uh….” He chuckled bashfully. “Aw heck, who’m I kidding? Yeah, I popped up to her office to say good morning and bring her some biscuits.” He let out a content sigh and leaned on the doorframe. “Just can’t believe it took us so long, y’know?” He followed Roy’s distracted gaze to the office next door; Bucky was looking at her computer, clearly trying to keep herself from looking into the Greyhounds office. “Guess maybe you do know,” Ted hummed quietly. He cleared his throat. “You do that ‘grand gesture’ yet?”

Roy cleared his throat and ripped his eyes away from her, choosing instead to narrow them at Ted. “You need something?”

“Oh, here.” Ted strolled over and handed Roy one of the folders. “Got a little scouting report for ya. Some impressive young men I think you’d be interested in.” He nodded towards the Whippets office. “Got a visit to the States next week, there’s a couple college gals I want to check out for her.”

“That’s nice,” Roy mumbled vaguely, pretending not to care, like he wasn’t excited to be talking about her. When Ted just kept staring at him, he cleared his throat. “Anything else?”

Ted wasn’t completely clueless, not really. He could see the shiftiness in Roy’s eyes, the way the manager was clearly fighting the urge to stare through the window, the tiny little tug in the corner of his mouth every time he failed. While Ted didn’t know the extent of what was going on between the two managers, he did know that the look in Roy’s brown eyes was the same look Ted knew he often had around Rebecca.

“Say, I’ve gotta run,” Ted lied. “Think you could slip this on over to the Whippets?” He handed Roy the other folder, one that had the W.F.C. Richmond logo on it. “Thanks, Roy.” Before Roy could say anything, Ted turned and walked out, humming happily to himself.

For a moment, Roy just stared at the folder. He was an adult man; he could manage himself, right? He could be professional. He was Roy fucking Kent, after all. Nodding to himself, he stood and strolled over to the Whippets office, approaching her desk calmly, determined to be the picture of professionalism-

“Good morning, darling,” he hummed in her ear, every coherent thought flying out of his mind when he caught a whiff of vanilla and lavender.

She quickly glanced over his shoulder, checking that no one could hear them. “Subtle, Kent,” she snorted. “What happened to keeping things quiet?” The sparkle in her eye assured him that she didn’t mind, not one bit.

He shrugged, dropping the folder onto her desk and perching himself on its edge. “Do I sound like a total wanker if I said you look way too fucking pretty today?”

“Only a little,” she chuckled. She bit her lip and gazed up at him. “Hi,” she whispered, gently ghosting her hand over his.

He leaned down towards her face. “Hi.”

“Roy? Hey, Roy?”

The sight of Jamie jogging into Roy’s office had the two managers retreating from their almost kiss. Rolling his eyes, Roy cleared his throat to get the striker’s attention. Jamie’s pretty face lit up when he saw the two gaffers in such close proximity.

“Good morning, Coaches,” he greeted in a far-too-sugary voice. “Roy, you feelin’ better?”

Roy frowned. “Fuck are you on about?”

Jamie wore that familiar confused pout. “On Saturday morning, you told me you were sick. Said that’s why we couldn’t train. You said you’d be in bed all weekend.”

Shit. “Oh, yeah, feeling loads better.” His face was burning as Buck held back a snicker. “We’ll train tonight, alright, Tartt?” He narrowed his eyes at the pretty manager. “See you later, Coach.”

She punched his arm playfully, smirking as he hopped off her desk. “Later, Coach.”

“Bucky, is your ankle alright?” Lucas gazed at me with concern in his eyes.

I wrinkled my nose and absently kicked at the grass with the toe of my sneaker. “Uh, yeah. I guess. Why?” I kept my gaze on the pitch, mentally working on my lineup for our next match.

He shrugged, his concern giving way to curiosity. “You’ve been limping all morning. Thought maybe you’d gotten hurt or something.”

“Have I?” I asked dumbly.

Damn, I was hoping that the slight stumble in my step wasn’t too noticeable. I knew I’d have a little bit of a hard time today; at some point over the weekend, I’d lost count of what round Roy and I were on. It was almost as if we were trying to make up for all the sex we would’ve been having if we’d just gotten together after the gala instead of dancing around our feelings. I’d woken up Monday feeling sorer than I had since retiring; the feeling had me reaching for my most comfortable shoes and leggings with a sloppy grin. Apparently my inability to walk properly was more obvious than I thought.

“How was your weekend?” he asked slowly, eyebrows raised. “Didn’t hear from you too much.”

I folded my arms. “Fine. Nothing too exciting. Just, you know, relaxed and stuff.”

“Relaxed,” he repeated with a slow nod. “Right.”

His tone was far too suspicious. “Lucas,” I murmured, finally tearing my gaze from our team. “What are you imply-”

“Coach.”

Hopefully Lucas didn’t hear my breath hitch when Roy’s fingers brushed against my back. The manager raised his eyebrows at me, quickly bringing his hand back to his side as the Greyhounds came out onto the pitch, calling out boisterous greetings as they passed us. Some of them looked especially smug when they saw Roy standing next to me. Lucas turned and blew his whistle, calling the Whippets in.

“Need something, Kent?” I did my best to keep my voice even, as though my head wasn’t swimming with the now familiar scent of Roy.

He shrugged as our teams mingled past each other. “Just wanted to check if you still wanted to go running today.” For the briefest moment, his eyes flickered down my figure until returning to my eyes. “New episode of Lust Conquers All is on tonight.” He bobbed his head, appearing significantly more casual than I felt. “Could drop you off after, before I have to meet Tartt.”

“Sounds good,” I managed before taking a step back to follow my team back inside. “Have a good practice, Coach.”

He saluted to me, wearing a smirk that I wanted to feel against my skin. “See you later.”

As Lucas and I followed the Whippets to the weight room, Lucas bumped his hip into mine. “Criminy, just call me the Invisible Man.”

I snorted. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, just that Coach Kent only has eyes for you these days,” he teased, throwing his arm around my shoulder. “I’m sure he’s got more than just eyes for you. He probably has a nice, big-”

“I will kill you,” I growled, shoving my assistant coach’s arm off me. “Seriously. You all spend months begging me and Roy to be friends, we finally are, and now you’re giving me shit about it? Not to mention all the smug looks everyone wears whenever we’re around each other.” My phone vibrated in my pocket. “I swear to God, everyone who works here is insane.”

Lucas laughed good-naturedly as we reached the training room. “Fine, fine. You and Kent are friends, neither of you is shagging the other, all is right with the world.” He nodded towards the door. “You comin’?”

I nodded and pulled my phone out of my pocket, noting the text notification on my screen. “In a sec.”

Want me to come over after training with Tartt? We can get in some more cardio ;)

It was a good thing Lucas was already focusing on training, because my face was on fire when I read Roy’s text. Biting back a grin, I quickly responded with a Sounds good Coach ;) and tucked my phone away.

When I entered the training room, Lucas raised his eyebrows at me. “And who was that?”

I shoved his shoulder with a laugh. “Fuck off.”

Yeah, hiding this whole thing was going to go well. Really fucking well.

At least sneaking around would be fun.

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dasher85 · 1 year

Text

Elucidation

Alhaitham x reader | y/n | you

Slow burn

Part 1

[ When Alhaitham is pressured by the arranged marriage he refuses to deny his feelings any longer. ]

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

[ First Encounter ]

The classroom was filled with students, it was the first week of class and everyone was eager to listen to the first lesson.

Being a normal person, you never actually liked to attend class. The lesson doesn't really interest you but you're still enrolled as a legal scholar just because of your parent's eagerness.

Your slender fingers play around with the pencil, spinning it around on repeat because you were too lazy to write down notes. As mindless as you were, your fingers slipped and the pencil went on flying away from your grasp.

"Hmm??" A person seated by your left sounded in response and you already knew your pencil must've landed there. You quickly looked towards the person thinking the worst but unexpectedly he has caught the pencil with his right hand. He was still holding his book with his left hand.

"Yours?" He calmly spoke and casually handed the pencil after you nodded with an apologetic smile. You were just glad he wasn't making too much of a fuss out of it knowing that technically it's still your fault for being careless.

"Sorry." You took it and he nodded once, not even the least bothered.

[ Second conversation ]

You barely talk in class, usually minding your own business but at least you still have a friend to hang out with especially during research hours or lunch break. Needless to say your studies have been doing quite well although you didn't actually put in that much effort.

"I have assigned every student with their research partners. Everyone can check it after class". The professor pinned the name list on the pin-it board. The students who were seated in front were already squinting their eyes to check their research partners, some were quite enthusiastic while some were resigned with their fate.

A small smile spread across your face feeling entertained by their expressions. You haven't checked your name but you didn't think too much about it. As long as your research partner is willing to do their part then it's all good.

Your only friend who was seated at the second row, closer to the front turned to look at you. She makes a sad face indicating that you both weren't partnered with each other. You shrugged and indicated that it was alright and nothing much can be done anyways.

After class, you pack your things and finally check your name on the name list.

'Topic: Ancient ruins - Alhaitham , Y/n'

You read the name list twice but for sure your eyes weren't seeing it wrong. Truthfully that name rings a slight worry in your mind.

'I don't know who's that?? It would be embarrassing to not recognize all the classmates by now' you thought. You're slightly frantic not because of who the person is but you didn't know who that person is. It's been two months and you haven't actually memorized all of your classmates' names. You're familiar with how they look but not their names.

"... Alhaitham…"

You could only make out the name being called by another student and you quickly turn your head just to see the guy who sat next to your left side. The tall blonde student was talking to him and just like that you knew who your research partner was.

'At least he's not seated too far' you thought, thinking it's only convenient if there's anything to discuss during class hours.

The next day, he hands you a piece of paper where he wrote a list of research sites to go to and to your distaste it's all in the desert.

"There's one ancient ruin in the rainforest. I can't recall its name but it's near. Are you not interested in going there instead?"

"Where is it exactly?"

"I think it was in our textbook, page 543?"

Without much thought he instantly pulled out his textbook and sure enough he found the one you mentioned.

"Alright."

You smiled, feeling better that it wasn't too far and he agreed to conduct the research there. The way he doesn't talk much really makes things easy for you.

[ Research Duo ]

"Do we need to go deeper? The steps don't seem in a good condition" you quickly suggested before he made another step further inside the ruins.

Veins and leaves were covering the walls of the ruins. Moss covered the path, the air smelled musty and the chirping of birds couldn't be heard anymore. If anything it feels a little eerie to stay any longer.

"Scared? It was you who suggested this place"

"Fine, we'll do as you like"

You didn't even bother to start an argument with him. If he's too confident about going inside the ruins then so be it. After all, it's not you who's leading the way first.

'How annoying' you couldn't help but secretly thought about him but followed him close behind anyways.

He then found a few ancient symbols behind the vines as he took a knife to clear it away. You then took a picture of it and jotted down a few notes. It went on like this for a few hours until there was more research data than what you actually need in that research report. The man suggested taking a few more symbols before calling it a day and you casually agreed.

As the both of you were descending another flight of steps, one step from where you placed your foot suddenly became loose. In those short seconds you had lost your balance and there was nothing to hold on to.

You gasp in panic, although your research partner was quick to notice and he tried to catch your body from falling, he was not fast enough.

[ Consequences ]

"Research partner, what else do we need to write in the report, let me at least draft it for you."

You spoke genuinely feeling troubled that you barely were able to contribute with the research report.

The only visitor seated at the side of your bed shook his head in refusal. Although his facial expression was just as calm it was evident that he wasn't going to hand you any of the paper materials.

"I'll bring the full report for you to read tomorrow."

"I can still write…" The truth was it's painful if you write or move your right wrist. The force you've taken to stop your body from slamming the floor has hurt both of your hands. At least your right hand is still functional but your right it's considered fractured. The doctor insisted that you'll need a few weeks rest with minimal hand movements, especially not writing.

"Are you not using your brain?"

There weren't many times when you actually had a conversation with this man but today you don't feel like having another anymore.

You nodded and slowly but naturally went back inside the hospital covers, lying on your right side facing the white painted wall. You’re just glad he only lets you be.

The next day, your parents visited along with your few friends. It feels amazingly better to see them with all smiles. After two hours they finally left, leaving a basket of fruits and a book for you to read. The type of novel book that you like. Credit to your friend for knowing your favorites.

Later in the evening, as your research partner said he has bought you the thick stack of papers. You're not sure how he managed to write this much when it's just him who does the work. It gives you much guilt to make him do all of this.

Nonetheless, you read each page one by one. You had promised yourself not to say any word to him unless it's necessary but it seems there are things that are worth mentioning.

It did take you an hour to read every page and you finally concluded that there are things to be added. At least that's what your opinion is saying.

"Maybe we can add the text from page, what was that, right… page 235 & 247 for this part"

You went on suggesting the pages that need to be added based on your knowledge from the textbook and a few other research papers as a reference.

"But it's okay if you don't want to add it, we still have time. I can slowly add it myself later"

He hasn't spoken anything ever since his arrival, as he carefully took hold of the papers from your hand. Just like that, he gave you a slight nod and exited the room.

You have no idea if he accepted your suggestions or simply disagreeing? But he didn't take any notes all the while you spoke of the pages and numbers, surely he wouldn't be able to remember all of that. The way he looked at you didn't actually discern any emotions aside from simply saying he was taking his leave.

'Why did I get such a weird research partner? Is he dejected that I didn't simply say the things he wrote weren't perfect?' you question yourself but didn't dwell too much into that before continuing with reading.

Six days later, during the weekend your research partner came knocking on the door before entering the hospital room.

You slightly raised your head to acknowledge who it was and went on reading with your book after seeing him closing the door.

He stood by the side of your bed for a few seconds as if checking your condition before taking a chair nearby. He then hands you the stack of research papers. It seems to be thicker compared to days prior.

You finally placed down the novel book and read the boring pages of research once more. Turns out he has added everything that you've suggested. It surprises you that he remembers it all too well.

After checking each detail you nodded approvingly of the whole research report before handing it back to him. If you remember it correctly, the research report submission would be next week and if he were to submit it right now, there wouldn't be any problems at all.

The both of you didn't exchange any words and you didn't try either. You believed nodding with a smile would already be enough to tell him that the research report was all good, so just like that you continued with the novel in your hand.

You also didn't bother to tell him that it was alright to mention to the professor that you couldn't contribute much in the research. After all, you never were interested in being a scholar in the first place. If your parents still insisted on becoming one, you didn't mind repeating the year. Needless to say, your thoughts didn't necessarily need to be spoken out especially to this person because you've accepted every possible outcome.

If anything you're just glad he didn't need to visit the hospital anymore just solely for the research report. Firstly it's such a hassle for him and secondly you didn't quite enjoy his company ever since the day he indirectly mentioned that you were acting stupid just because you want to help out.

He finally stood up.

'Finally! he's leaving' you secretly cheered, feeling a little better.

"Get well soon"

You nodded with a small smile, and was about to literally continue with the book you were reading, making no such effort to show much gratitude.

"I'll visit you tomorrow. See ya" he suddenly adds and you couldn't help but feel disappointed. Of all things, you really thought this was his last visit. Somehow if only your hands could magically instantly heal itself it would be better.

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

A/N: Yet again another slow burn couple XD but this one would be shorter because in celebration for his banner release.

All parts are already on schedule btw. So stay tuned...

#alhaitham #genshin impact #genshin impact alhaitham #alhaitham x reader

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anna-hawk · 1 year

Note

Shane Walsh + “weakness”

Erm… I think that you might have expected something different from me with this, but my brain thought, let's do some heavy angst tonight 😬. It's written through Shane's PoV, but Reader clearly has canon typical dark thoughts, even if only suggested. It obviously has a good ending (you know me), but yeah…

Send me a character or ship + a title (I'll try making it more light-hearted)

Weakness… Shane had decided to never let that word apply to him ever again after leaving the Greene farm. Not after Lori, not after Carl… And especially not after Rick.

But then he met you. You were everything he wasn't character wise; silent and always remaining in the background, watching while the leaders of the small settlement Shane had come across talked, planned and organized. You weren't weak, however, didn't ask for or needed help. Never defenseless. And Shane found himself unable to tear his eyes away from you whenever you were in his line of sight.

Given his curious attraction to you, Shane might have tried coming on to you at any other time. He didn't. He had always been someone to go with what his gut was telling him, but after the so-called end of the world happened, he'd listened to it all the more. Even if it had cost him a lot over time.

With you, he knew that there was something… else.

You'd talked a few times over the weeks since he'd joined your group, but you hadn't revealed much about yourself. Something he couldn't fault you for, since he was just as reluctant to go into details about how he'd come to this place. You didn't speak a lot, but you weren't meek. You spoke your mind when asked, and never shied away from eye contact.

After the first two weeks, he'd realized that while all the houses in the fortified abandoned town the group lived in were shared by at least two people, you lived on your own. Even Shane had been offered a room in one of the leaders' homes. To him, this meant that your isolation was by choice. Your choice.

As your house was sitting across from his, his bedroom window looking into the street you shared, on the nights Shane wasn't on patrol, he often sat by the window and waited for you to leave your house. He'd noticed that as well. If you weren't standing watch over the town, you still left every night. Without fail. He'd been tempted to follow you out of sheer curiosity, at first, but he'd refrained himself from doing so. It wasn't any of his business, after all.

Over a month after watching you repeat the same pattern day in and day out, what ended up breaking Shane's resolve to not follow you was that you started coming back home later and later. At first, you'd leave for an hour before coming back, but now it was in the middle of the night, or even at dawn. He watched you every day, eyes tired, face drawn, but still efficient in your duties. His jaw worked as his gut screamed at him to find out what was going on. He'd tried casually asking other people about you, but while they had only kind things to say about you, their smiles were sad, although, they didn't say more. No one seemed to have noticed what you were doing, however.

That night, Shane stood hidden in the shadows of his house as he waited for you to make your exit. Sure enough, you left your home and turned the corner at the end of the road. Shane knew that it lead to the back of the town, where there was a small park. He followed you from far enough away that he was sure that you couldn't hear his steps, and watched as you reached the tall, broad wall that served as protection and went around the whole town. Shane had been impressed by the giant structure on the day he'd arrived, and it hadn't failed the group so far. His eyebrows jumped up his forehead as he saw you climb the wall, but instead of standing on it like when on watch, you moved off the other side and out of sight. He wasn't too worried since there was a fence surrounding the wall and putting you out of any walker's reach, but people usually didn't walk along the ground between the fence and the wall. With his brow now furrowed, Shane quietly climbed after you while making sure to keep his movements as silent as possible until he caught sight of you again. Which was only a few seconds later once Shane reached the top, crossed to the other side and looked down the wall. You were standing several feet below him, next to the ladder you'd used to get down there, your back resting against the wall, arms at your sides and looking into the darkness. Staying where he was, Shane could hear the shifting of walkers stumbling around. After a long time, the light of the full moon gave him enough vision to see one of the walkers notice you and approach the fence with a low rasping sound. You didn't move as the creature started pushing against the fence, the metal so thick that it barely moved at all. After another minute, you pushed off the wall and walked straight to the walker. Shane's breath caught as the walker's fingers grazed your chest as it tried, unsuccessfully, to get its hand through the small holes. You stayed in front of the walker, unmoving, as it kept pushing against the fence and snarled every now and then. As you lifted a hand and pressed it against the metal, Shane finally moved as he realized what you'd been trying – hoping – to do all this time by coming here. His legs swung onto the ladder, and he let himself slide down the sides, his palms burning from the quick descend. Your face snapped to where he landed, but with the moon shining onto your other side, Shane couldn't make out your features.

“Don't,” he spoke in a low rasp, while his fingers gently curled around your wrist and pulled it away from the fence.

Your fingers formed into a fist, and Shane thought that you were going to hit him, but you only hung there, neither moving further nor speaking. You didn't have to for Shane to know, anyway. Facing the fence again, as the walker rattled the fence, the moon light revealed your glistening cheeks.

“I'm tired, Shane,” you breathed, and Shane knew you weren't only talking about the lack of sleep.

“I know.”

Because he really did. His family might not be dead, but he'd lost it all the same. Giving up had sometimes sounded like the easiest thing to do.

You looked back at him, and while he couldn't see your expression anymore, he knew you were observing him intently, looking for something. He kept his gaze unflinching, until you nodded the tiniest bit and sagged against him. His arms immediately went around you to pull you closer.

As he climbed the wall after you and pulled the ladder up, Shane knew, as he followed you into your home, that you'd become his last weakness without him realizing it. Curling around you on the bed, both of you still fully dressed, Shane found that, for once, he couldn't begin to mind.

#darlingshane #asked and answered #shane walsh #shane walsh x reader #ficlet #well this went really dark yikes #canon typical themes #idek how to tag this tbh #it has a good end but reader isn't ok at first #angst

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allthingsfangirl101 · 2 years

Text

Different Kind of Passenger Part 2–Kurt Kunkle

Part 1

Recap: The feeling Kurt got when the girl smiled and said his name was the same feeling he got when one of his videos went viral.

Usually, he would be taking his passenger the wrong way. For some reason, he continued driving this girl where she wanted. Out of all the people who have gotten into his backseat, what was stopping him from hurting this girl?

He couldn't help but watch her jog up the steps into her apartment building.

Kurt didn't know who that girl was. What he did know was that he had to see her again.

Kurt nervously chewed on his thumbnail as he waited for her to walk out. Over the last month, he hasn't been able to stop thinking about that girl. Because of the rideshare app, he was able to get her name. With her name and the address where he dropped her off, it wasn't hard to find her.

And he found her.

He found her online. He found where she worked. He found her friends. He found her family. He found where she hung out. He found the bookstore she always goes to after work every Friday. He even found where she takes her walks during her lunch breaks.

Kurt checked the clock on his dashboard to see that Y/N would be taking her lunch-time walk through the park any minute now. He got out and tried to act casual as he walked over to a bench and sat down. He pulled out his phone, trying to look like he wasn't waiting for her.

His eyes glanced up, continually looking for her. When he finally saw her, one sentence kept repeating in his head:

Please notice me. Please notice me. Please notice me. Please notice me.

"Kurt?"

His breath got caught in his throat when she said his name. Kurt looked up, unable to stop the smile that formed when his eyes met with her gorgeous Y/E/C eyes.

"Y/N, right?" He stuttered.

"That's me," she smiled her bewitching smile. "You drove me home from the bar after I found out my boyfriend was cheating on me with my best friend."

"Oh yeah," he scoffed. "Whatever happened to them?"

"Ironically enough," she laughed as she sat down next to him, "they both got an STD. From each other."

"That's perfect," he laughed. He stopped and turned toward her. "Wait. . ."

"I got tested," she instantly said with a small giggle, "and I'm clean. He must've gotten it from some stripper he was lying about."

"I'm sorry," he sighed.

"Really?" She smirked. "I'm not."

Kurt hesitated before asking, "I know this is kind of straightforward, but would you like to go to lunch with me? It doesn't have to be today. I mean. . . It could always be. . ."

"As luck would have it," Y/N chuckled when Kurt struggled to continue, "I'm on my lunch break and the store-bagged salad I brought is nowhere near as appetizing as a burger."

Y/N stood up and turned toward Kurt expectantly. "Are we going or not?"

"Yeah," he stuttered. "Totally."

Kurt wiped his hands on his jeans as he quickly stood up. His heart was beating hard against his chest as he started walking next to her. The heart attack he was having got worse when she wrapped her arm around his.

The two went to a small diner and spent an hour laughing, talking, and getting to know each other better. The more he got to know Y/N, the more Kurt wanted her.

His heart sank when she looked at her watch. She looked back up at him with apologetic eyes.

"I should be getting back," she sighed. "I'm sorry, Kurt."

"It's okay," he smiled, not wanting her to ever feel guilty. "I understand. Can I walk you back?"

"I'd love that," she giggled.

As they left the restaurant and walked back to the park, Kurt kept thinking about how Y/N said she'd love to have him walk her back. Not like, but love.

He finally refocused when they got to the park. He looked over to see Y/N in her head.

"You okay?" He asked.

"Yeah," she said with a smile on her face. It slightly changed when she added, "Just wondering if we're. . ."

"If we're what?" Kurt asked, trying to hide how eager he was.

"If we're ever going to see each other again," she sighed, looking up at him with an adorable blush on her cheeks.

Kurt's laugh made her cheeks brighten and her look away. Kurt reached up and gently grabbed her chin, turning her toward him.

"I'd like to see you again, Y/N."

"We could always message through the drive share app but it would be easier if I had your number," she smirked. She grabbed her phone and handed it to Kurt.

After he put his number into her phone, he opened her Find My iPhone app and shared her location with him, leaving it on. He then quickly closed the app and sent himself a text.

"Did you forget your number?" She teased when he finally handed her phone back.

"No," he awkwardly laughed. "I sent myself a text so that I would have your number too."

"Smart guy," she giggled. Before heading back to work, Y/N stood on her toes and kissed his cheek.

"See you around, Kurt."

"I'll make sure of it," Kurt mumbled once she was out of earshot.

* * * * *

The night was slow. Kurt tried to find another passenger, but he couldn't stop thinking about Y/N. He instantly grabbed his phone and started tracking her.

Y/N was at a bar. Kurt hoped that she was with friends. Female friends. The idea of her being with another guy made him tighten his grip on the steering wheel.

He clenched his jaw as he started driving to the bar. He pulled in and had to force himself to calm down before getting out. He walked into the bar, looked around, and instantly found Y/N.

Kurt let out a deep breath when he saw her with her friends. They were at a table, not far from the bar. He hid in a booth across the bar. She couldn't see him, but he could see her.

He sat there for two hours, watching Y/N and her friends. Y/N was a slow drinker compared to her friends. She only had two by the time her friends had at least double that.

Y/N was walking back from the bathroom when some guy walked up to her. Kurt couldn't hear what the guy was saying to Y/N, but he could tell that she didn't like it.

When the guy grabbed Y/N as she tried to walk away, Kurt stood up. He started running when the guy dragged Y/N into the alley. By the time Kurt got there, the guy had Y/N pressed up against the side of the bar and was kissing her neck. She was trying to get him off of her but he was too strong.

"Hey!" Kurt yelled. He ran over and grabbed the guy's shirt, yanking him off of Y/N.

"Kurt?" She stuttered as he protectively stood in front of her.

"What the hell, man?" The guy scoffed. "My lady and I were just trying to have some fun."

"She is not your lady," Kurt said through his teeth. He calmed down a little when he felt Y/N step closer to him, grabbing his arm.

"Get lost," Kurt warned.

"Or what?" The guy smirked. Kurt stepped away from Y/N, getting in the guy's face.

"Or you'll deal with me," he threatened. "And you won't walk away from it."

Kurt turned around, grabbed Y/N's hand, and pulled her out of the alleyway. He kept his grip on her hand as he led her to his car. He didn't let go until he opened the passenger car door for her.

When he got in the car, he drove off. He didn't say anything as they got away from the bar. Y/N looked over and saw him tightly holding the steering wheel. Her heart sank when she saw his knuckles turning white.

"Kurt?" She whispered. "Will you pull over? Please?"

He let out a shaky breath as he pulled into the parking lot of a neighborhood park. He threw the car in park, struggling to calm down. Y/N reached over and grabbed his hand.

Kurt looked over at her to see her smiling at him. He couldn't help it when his eyes drifted down to Y/N's lips. He quickly looked back up at her but she saw it.

They leaned in, their lips gently touching. Kurt deepened the kiss by cupping her cheek in his hand. He had to force himself to slow down. If he wasn't careful, he'd get out of control. Fast.

Y/N broke the kiss, both of them breathing heavily as they pressed their foreheads together.

"Thank you for interfering," she whispered as she leaned back.

"I'm just happy I was there," Kurt said softly. He clenched his jaw as he thought about what would've happened if he hadn't been there. "If I wasn't. . . He would've. . ."

Kurt closed his eyes, imagining what he'd do if that asshole ever got in his car. He was brought out of his daydream when Y/N reached up and grabbed his face.

"But you were," she said softly. "You stopped him, Kurt. You saved me."

"I had to save you," Kurt said under his breath.

"Why?" Y/N asked with an innocent smile.

"Because," he stuttered." I had to because. . . Because. . ."

"Because?" She teased as she scooted as close as the armrest would let her. She pressed her forehead to his, softly rubbing her nose against his. She smiled as she said what he couldn't.

"Could it be because you, Mr. Driver, have feelings for someone you drove?"

Kurt's heart jumped into his throat. He scooted closer to her, wanting nothing but her.

"Could it be you have feelings for someone who drove you?"

Y/N smiled as she climbed over the armrest and straddled Kurt's lap. He laughed as he wrapped his arm around her waist. She leaned in and pressed her lips to his. Kurt couldn't help but moan as their lips started moving in sync. This kiss wasn't as innocent as the others.

Y/N broke the kiss, both breathing heavily. The tension between the two was thick. Y/N leaned back and smirked up at Kurt.

"Would it be so bad?" She teased. Kurt let out a deep grunt that sounded more like a moan as he grabbed her, tightly massaging her hips.

"I guess not."

#kurt kunkle #spree #joe keery #joe keery imagines #joe keery x reader #joe keery POV #steve harrington #stranger things #Walter keys mckeys #free guy

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dutchvanwinkle · 2 years

Note

Would you consider doing a fic request involving a three way with Dutch and Arthur? There isn’t enough out there with both in!

Would I consider it? Baby I fantasize about it on the regular. Enjoy ☺

I know it took me a while to finish but I hope the wait was worth it anon!

This is set in the early-ish days, Arthur being mid-twenties and Dutch being mid-thirties because I love the thought of cocky Arthur in his youth.

The Importance of Hierarchy - Arthur x Dutch x Reader

ao3 link if you prefer.

Summary: Arthur and Dutch notice you’ve become too self-assured and seem to have forgotten the hierarchy within the gang. They take it upon themselves to remind you.

Word count: 15,119

Content warnings: So much smut, 18+ (please check ao3 for specific tags)

Life in a gang had thoroughly surprised you. At first, when the offer arose of joining a small gaggle of outlaws you weren’t entirely sure about the whole thing. Most of them that had joined the gang did so because they had nowhere else to go and it gave them an opportunity for a second chance. But you were poached by them, a talented thief with a quick wit who they happened to run into when a few of them were targeting the same mark as you. It made sense to team up for the job at the time, they seemed decent enough and if you were being honest, you were slightly out of your depth sneaking into the mansion of a local businessman; not that you’d ever admit that to them.

The whole thing went off without a hitch, and you stole more than you’d have been able to on your own, so even when split between yourself and the three men your take was larger than you’d expected. You parted ways afterwards but hadn’t expected them to track you down some days later with the promise of a larger take and a spot in their gang.

While the job went well, you still had your reservations. Though this time, your new friends Arthur, John, and Javier had brought along the gang’s leader who appeared to harbour the group’s share of charm and smoothly twisted your arm into joining up with a promise that it can only be temporary should you decide it’s not for you.

Alas, temporary it was not.

This way of life suited you; it was nice having other people to talk and drink with, and it was nice having them there to fall back on if a job went sour. Six months went by and you were already a part of the furniture, well-accustomed to the ebbs and flows experienced by the Van der Linde gang. The vagabonds had already stepped up from the title of colleagues and you proudly thought of them as your family.

And as with every family, that just so happened to include the regular squabbling - harmless as it was.

Currently, you felt nothing other than frustration at Arthur and Dutch, one-upping each other with their marksman skills as they shot bottles and birds alike while you sat and waited for them to get a move on so you could start turning the ground over in the gang’s new surrounding area for some fresh leads. Leant by the small tree a ways off the main road, you’d watched for over forty-five minutes and they didn’t appear to be stopping anytime soon.

While Arthur made an excuse about why he’d missed a shot you flicked open your pocket watch, grunting at the time that greeted you. It was getting late, you were getting hungry, and they were getting on your last nerve.

Pushing yourself off the tree’s trunk, you stood between them and held up your rolled-up map. The two men stopped their animated discussion almost comically, heads tilted at you like a pair of dumb dogs for an explanation.

“If you boys are quite done with your pissing contest, I believe we have some work to do,” you reminded them, unrolling the map and holding it open.

They shared a cursory glance at the map before each other and then you, the corners of their lips turning up in amusement.

“Sorry little lady,” Arthur drawled, casually digging his repeater into the ground to lean on. “Didn’t realise you had somewhere better to be.”

You huffed tiredly. “I just don’t want to spend my time standing around. The two of you can go off and shoot all the bottles you like once we’re through, and I can go elsewhere.”

“When did your time become so valuable? Had I known, I might’ve taken out a small loan or asked Strauss to balance the books for me,” Dutch mused, Arthur’s chuckle chiming in the background. “We ought to make amends to our budget to allow for our new expense. Would you like your payment weekly or monthly, miss?”

“Any time today would be grand,” you scoffed. “Stop being an ass, you said this wouldn’t take long.”

Dutch raised his eyebrows at your comment and choice of name for him, and cockily crossed his arms – something you suspected was usually enough to get someone to rethink their words. You knew talking back to the man in charge was a brave, or stupid, thing to do but on this occasion, you thought you were warranted to say something. Besides, he always did struggle to be mad at you considering the high-quality work you’d put in for the gang so far.

“My my, Arthur. Seems our girl is growing bored of us.”

You dropped your arm to your side, the map dangling uselessly and rubbed at your brow with a fatigued groan. “It’s not that. I’m happy to go to town on my own, I don’t see why I have to come with you both anyway. Then you can finish whatever... sport this is and go off on your own accord. Sound fair?”

They glanced at each other once more, not seeming even slightly bothered by your small outburst and instead seemed to find humour at each turn of the conversation. After mirroring each other’s smiles, Arthur cleared the laugh building in his throat.

“What’chu think, Dutch? Sound fair to you?”

Dutch hummed thoughtfully, feigning the action of decision-making and only doing so for the sake of creating suspense. Arthur waited patiently; a befittingly boyish smirk plastered across his face.

“Now, what is fair? One may define it as -”

“No,” you interrupted immediately, one of Dutch’s lectures the last on the list of things you wanted at that moment. “For the love of god, no.”

“No what?” he asked, eyes warm and mischievous.

“Please,” you sighed, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I’m appealing to your humanity. Do not make me sit through a lecture. And do not make me sit through any more mindless shooting.”

“Alright,” Dutch acquiesced, raising his arms in surrender and Arthur tutted at the swift end to his entertainment. “Fair enough. As you wish, we can go ahead and do our scouting now instead.”

“Thank you,” you said pointedly, turning on your heels to lead them back to the horses who you suspected were just as bored as you were.

So, you got your way and the ordeal was finished, but at what cost? While you did scour the town for leads, from then on, the two men thought it funny to use every opportunity to tease you and you began to miss a few hours previous when you only had to listen to the repeated fires of their guns instead of their smarmy remarks. They really were a childish pair of bastards.

✾

The local town was fruitful, filled to the brim with leads that you’d been tracking in your journal. The gang was busy and spirits were high with all the planning that was going on. You’d taken a second trip into town with Karen a few days later to scout for a job the two of you had been scoping out and you’d robbed a stagecoach with John and somehow come out the other side unscathed. One job you’d been helping plan for was on hold, it was one of the biggest you’d been involved with and required a generous amount of dynamite to pull off. Though the one person who promised to get you said dynamite was yet to deliver.

After pondering the rest of the active leads and deciding this particular one was a priority to set in motion, you pushed up from your bedroll and beelined for Arthur, sitting outside Dutch’s tent sharpening his knife.

“Arthur,” you greeted him and the outlaw raised his head in response, eyes quickly darting to the small book in your hand as he calculated you hadn’t come over for a friendly chat.

“How can I help?” he asked pre-emptively with an underlying tone of sarcasm.

“I need the dynamite sooner rather than later,” you informed him, ignoring his mocking façade of helpfulness. “This one can’t wait much longer.”

Dutch was facing the other way, a cigar pressed to his lips. He smirked at the thought of you bossing around big stubborn Arthur.

“That right,” Arthur sat back with a sigh. “I don’t get no hello how are you or what can I do to help you do I? All you want is for me to do something, like I’m not always doing something -”

“Arthur,” you interjected sternly. “You said you’d get it in the first place so stop making a fuss. It’s not like I’m asking for much and we can’t do anything without it. It is your job to keep the ammunition topped up.”

“You could always try asking me nicely.”

Rolling your eyes, you exhaled the cool air and reminded yourself not to rise to his teasing. “Just do it,” you lamented, turning to leave before he could make another remark.

Dutch took it as an opportunity to lean on the back of Arthur’s chair, awaiting his pending complaint.

“When did she get so god damn demanding?” the younger man promptly delivered, and while Dutch thought of a reply he found himself distracted by the sway of your hips in that skirt as you made your way back to your tent.

Arthur’s hungry eyes lit up just the same despite his grievances, the pair of dogs now closer to a pair of wolves spotting their next target for prey. It really was a flattering skirt.

The two men noticed the silence hanging between them at the same time, frowning at each other before taking their gazes away from you.

“Stop being a pervert,” Arthur deflected, letting out an awkward cough.

“You stop being a pervert,” Dutch countered, busying himself with straightening out his already straight waistcoat.

“That thing even still work anymore?” Arthur gestured lazily to Dutch’s crotch.

“Course it still works Arthur, I’m not senile.” Dutch then took the opportunity to look back at you, pencil now pressed onto your bottom lip while you concentrated on that little journal of yours. A brief wave of guilt washed over him.

Of all the people in his gang, you were by far one of the hardest workers. It was refreshing to have someone come in that had no requirements for learning the ropes, and instead taught the rest a new trick or two and provided useful insights whenever anyone asked for it. He knew that deep down you were similar to him, worrying more than necessary about the gang and overcompensating by bulking out the available funds with your labour. Sure, sometimes you could be overbearing and he wasn’t sure he’d ever even seen you sit still for a full day, but he thought back to the time you joined, often the life of the party that had now traded the drunken late nights for early, hangover-free mornings so you could get to work straight away. Dutch was truly grateful to have such an asset, but he worried that the way he hammered in the importance of loyalty and hard work had been too much and unnecessary. You just cared. A lot. He suspected you never required that push in the first place that the others usually do.

The way Dutch saw it, he was left with two problems. You’d forgotten how to have a good time and also forgotten the level of responsibility you had; while he was glad you were invested in the gang’s forthcomings; he couldn’t have you ordering his senior gun around. That was his job, after all.

He did know of one way to kill two birds with one stone.

His face and posture relaxed in turn at the enlightenment, and Arthur felt the air shift around him. He looked at Dutch inquisitively, noticing the ever-obvious signs of the man’s mind formulating a plan. “What you thinkin’?”

“I’m thinkin’ we take little miss out on a special job, just the three of us.”

“A special job?”

“Sure. Maybe remind her how to have some fun,” Dutch said, a devilish look growing on his face. It soon hardened in place with a committed exhale. “And while we’re at it, we can remind her who’s in charge.”

Arthur frowned; not entirely sure what Dutch was going on about but as usual, he assumed he wouldn’t escape being dragged along for the ride.

✾

It was a mild day, overcast skies and a cool breeze passing through the street you walked along on the way to the hotel. Dutch had asked you to meet him and Arthur there for a job and said that he’d explain more when you arrived, your only instruction being to wear a nice enough outfit that’d still let you blend in. You chose your favourite skirt and blouse combination.

The hotel was average-sized, slightly larger than one would find in a small town but nothing compared to the big city ones. You’d been in once before, to the bar on the ground floor when you and the girls had a field day swiping valuables from the over-served patrons. A hotel with its own bar was a smart idea, from the hotel’s financial perspective, yet dangerous for its customers. Knowing there’s an available bed just up the stairs often makes people more likely to reach questionable levels of intoxication. That usually worked in your favour.

Room eight, fourth door on your left when you reach the upstairs landing. The clerk’s words repeated in your head as you walked up the stairs, the small key clutched in your hand. Sure enough, there was the door to room eight.

Upon opening it, you frowned: no sign of Dutch and Arthur. Were you late? Your pocket watch answered for you when you checked the face of it – 19:03. You were just on time.

With a shrug, you assumed the others would be with you any moment, but the more than inviting bed called to your tired bones. May as well have a rest while you waited. You kicked your boots off and flopped back onto the bed, revelling in the supportive mattress and letting the bottoms of your legs dangle off the side while you observed the patterned swirls on the ceiling.

The low hum of noise from downstairs and the slight whistle of wind through a gap in the window soothed you, and while you reminded yourself that you had to stay awake, you allowed your eyes to fall shut.

Your relaxation was short-lived, the slamming open of the door startling you awake with a gasp. Instead of pulling your gun from its holster, your hand remained hovering over it when you sat up and found Arthur and Dutch laughing at your reaction. You grumbled indignantly. “You’re not funny.”

Arthur snorted, shaking his head and closing the door behind him. “You agree with that, Dutch?”

“Nope,” the man responded plainly, taking a step closer and hooking his thumbs over his gun belt.

“Looks like you’re outnumbered, sorry darlin’.”

With a defeated eye-roll, you lowered back down onto your elbows. The two of them observed you for a moment before Arthur broke the silence with an ever so slight strain in his voice.

“You’re looking mighty comfortable there.”

You looked either side of yourself to the bed and back to him. “Isn’t that the point?”

“Too comfortable,” Arthur clarified, his voice low and almost sinister. “You’re making a habit o’ it.”

You wrinkled your nose at him in confusion. If anything, you’d been the complete opposite with how tirelessly you’d worked in recent weeks to make yourself worthy of your spot in the gang. Deflated, at the prospect all you’d done wasn’t nearly enough, you breathed out a short breath. “What’s that supposed to mean? You saying I’ve been slacking off?”

Arthur didn’t give anything away, instead raising his eyebrows at Dutch to clarify.

“Quite the opposite,” he commented in an indifferent monotone. It was Dutch’s turn to receive your confused expression, allowing Arthur a moment to compose himself while your attention was elsewhere.

To say Arthur was excited about Dutch’s plan was... an understatement.

He’d hardly believed the proposition when it left his mentor’s lips. At first, he thought it was a joke, some harsh gimmick you and him had cooked up to embarrass Arthur into admitting he wanted you in that way. Because admission was all it was, no persuasion was necessary given the number of times Arthur had tugged on himself with eyes screwed tight and gritted teeth as he fought back any audible sound that could let onto what he was up to in the confines of his tent. He’d wanted to experience you in that way from the moment he’d met you. In truth, he loved your asserted and self-assured manner and he did have a great deal of respect for you for not bowing to any of the boys; not even Dutch.

But when the man himself suggested it, putting the image of you in Arthur’s head doing exactly that – on your knees for him, shedding your clothes for him, opening your legs for him...

Well, it was all he’d damn well thought about since.

Dutch’s reasoning hadn’t helped. Teach her a lesson and remind her who’s in charge and but make her pleasure our top priority had all but circled Arthur’s mind like some sort of chant since he’d uttered them in a hushed voice by the light of the campfire one night when everyone else was asleep. Dutch always did have a talent for painting a pretty picture, and he’d made this scenario into a masterpiece.

Then, Dutch began to move and broke Arthur out of his impending stupor. He rounded the bed, prompting you to shuffle your legs onto it and back a little so you were no longer sideways. Knees bent, but still propped up on your elbows, you watched as he all but prowled to be stood at the foot of the bed and stopped, chuckling gently. It didn’t lessen your building unease with the situation.

But Dutch’s face was soft, kind almost, his expression reminding you of a proud one but that wasn’t quite the best description - you couldn’t put a pin on it but you remained hopeful that it was borne from a genuine place. He shook his head slightly. “We’re going to fix our little problem on this job today.”

Problem? “Problem? I – I wasn’t aware we had a problem... sir.”

The way Dutch’s eyes lit up at the end of your sentence didn’t go unnoticed by you. The corner of his lip tugged slightly and he nodded again. “That is much better.”

“Better?” you turned to face Arthur, seemingly frozen in his spot and thawed by your gaze, mobilising to join Dutch’s side at the end of the bed and mentally shaking off his rapidly expanding imagination to resume his persona of hardened outlaw.

Neither of them answered you, and as the gentle thrum of your pulse picked up beneath your skin you darted your gaze between them.

“She looks like a little deer,” Arthur observed and Dutch hummed in agreement. His hands drifted to his gun belt and a brief flash of fear struck you but was soon numbed by the click of his buckle which preceded the soft brush of leather as it slid out of the fasten. He held the gun belt away from his hips in one hand before letting it drop to the floor, and despite your knowledge of the sound it’d make the thunk of it hitting the wood made your shoulders tense.

“I do love those doe eyes,” he said and Arthur took it as his cue to remove his own gun belt, which he did with admittedly more haste. “Don’t you, Arthur?”

“I’ll be honest Dutch,” Arthur huffed a chuckle, “it’s not her eyes I’m thinkin’ about.”

A quiet warning side-eye from Dutch simmered Arthur down somewhat, who cleared his throat while the tension built in your face. “Why are you talking about me like I’m not sat right here? Can one of you please explain what this is all about? You’re making me feel very... unnerved.”

“The problem,” Dutch began diplomatically, posture relaxed yet solid, “is that you’ve been forgetting the chain of command recently.”

You weren’t enjoying this game. You’d come here for the job, waited while they were late and damn them if they weren’t going to let you prove yourself and instead act like you’re some lazy leech. Thoroughly sick of their recent affliction for ganging up on you, and in your opinion an unfair view on your contribution to the gang, you shuffled forward and pushed up to stand between the two of them. You’d never cast much thought to how tall they both were until this moment. “Whatever you say. Can we just get on with the job?”

Dutch smirked, pleased, and placed a hand on your shoulder. “If that’s what your heart desires, then by all means.”

The pressure from his palm increased and you looked at it and then back to him, brow scrunched in questioning.

“Sit,” he commanded softly, lips remaining parted around the word, and you did so hesitantly.

“Why are you both acting strange?” your voice came out quiet and you felt small at that moment; them being dangerous men was a fact you often forgot. Dutch seemed to notice. Arthur was too busy anticipating what was to come.

“Relax.”

It wasn’t much, but you took it. Perhaps you weren’t in trouble, but you did know that doing what was asked of you would lead to clarity eventually. So, you shuffled back and leaned down onto your forearms once more.

“Are you going to tell me what the plan is, then?”

The creases in the corners of both their eyes deepened, a wave of excitement washing over their faces. “Oh,” Dutch chuckled. “We’ve got a big plan for you.”

He leaned forward, running his index finger from your outer ankle and up the side of your calf, watching the motion with intent before flicking his eyes up to you.

Oh.

Were you dreaming? Unlike all the previous signs, you couldn’t ignore this one. The gentleness of touch almost had you thinking twice about the man’s... men’s motive with you, that perhaps it was all in your head. Perhaps.

You didn’t dare look at the contact the two of you shared and instead held Dutch's gaze, not entirely sure how you would deal with it if they were making a pass at you. Just as you’d formulated enough excuses for their behaviour and plucked up the courage to speak, Arthur chuckled to himself darkly.

“Two of ‘em, actually.”

Your attention snapped to the younger man, his eyes not meeting yours and instead scanning your body laid out in front of him. Nerves building, you gulped minimally. “What... Plan are you talking about?”

A devilish grin grew on Arthur’s face as though he’d been itching for you to ask that very question. The hand resting loosely on his belt journeyed to his crotch and grasped his growing bulge, your eyes widening as he shunted it for effect.

Dutch’s own eyes rolled at the display and he stood, dropping his arm at his side. “You can be rather crude sometimes, Arthur.”

“Watchu mean?” he scoffed with a boyish grin.

Gesturing to you, Dutch raised his eyebrows. “Ain’t no way to behave around a lady.”

You were about to agree when Arthur tsked through his teeth. “Won’t be much of a lady once we’re finished with her.”

“Hey,” you scrambled backwards and sat up, holding your hands in surrender. “I don’t know what is going on here, but if you think for one second I’m going to lay with you both you’ve got another thing coming.”

“Ah,” rumbled Dutch, an amused smile growing on his face. “The lady doth protest.”

“Is that really why you brought me here? So you could use me for some -”

“Now, now,” Dutch brought his hands up, clearly attempting to add some seriousness to his act. “You’ve got the wrong idea.”

“That so?” you countered, crossing your arms in defiance. “Seems to me like I’ve got a perfect handle on this situation.”

“No, not at all. In fact -”

Arthur’s bored sigh interrupted Dutch’s sentence and he pointedly pulled his boots off one by one before putting a knee on the bed and not stopping until you had to lie back and he was hovering over you, an arm on either side of your head.

You widened your eyes in alarm, trying to think of something to say but for the first time in a while you were coming up empty. You weren’t scared of them, of what they were up to, and that was the worst thing about it. However silly it was, bracketed in by Arthur you felt entirely safe. In fact, a large part of you was... curious. If they were here to be intimate with you, which wasn’t something you could deny to be the case any longer, you weren’t sure you’d have it in you to say no. The prospect of taking them both was nothing short of exhilarating.

“Darlin’,” Arthur cooed softly, his index finger and thumb coming to rest on your chin and tilted your head up to meet his gaze which searched your face before landing on your eyes. He angled his head and offered you a warm smile. “We ain’t gonna hurt ya. Way I see it, you can let old Dutch drone on about what his plan is,” you didn’t miss Dutch’s huff in the background, but Arthur’s lips coming down so close to your neck that you could feel his warm breath began to tune out everything that wasn’t him, “or you can just let us show ya.”

He paused, not following through with his words just yet but you’d involuntarily bared your neck to him, clearing your throat when you realised what a precarious situation you’d gotten yourself into. “Arthur, I -”

Arthur groaned, cutting you off and running his thumb back and forth on the side of your chin. “You don’t know how much I’ve wanted to hear my name come out your mouth all breathy like that.” He dropped his forehead to rest on your shoulder, angling slightly so his nose fit in the contour of the crook of your neck.

“Arthur,” Dutch warned sternly, and he unwillingly let go of your chin and sat back on his haunches.

“You’re jus’ mad I’m the one that seduced her an’ not you,” Arthur tutted, eyes not leaving your flushed face with a ghost of a proud smile fading onto his.

“I’m not playing your games right now, Arthur,” Dutch countered, mainly irritated at the grain of truth held in Arthur’s accusation. “But... perhaps you’re right.”

Arthur registered Dutch’s words a beat later, cockily raising his eyebrows to turn and smile at the man with a glint in his eye. “I didn’t quite catch that – you're saying I’m right?” Arthur huffed an incredulous laugh, “and you’re wrong?”

Dutch tensed his jaw, rolling his shoulders back before clapping a hand on Arthur’s shoulder. “I have no problem admitting my wrongdoings,” you suppressed a mocking snicker, “in fact, I think I may have the wrong idea about this whole plan in the first place. Perhaps our little miss here has learnt by example, since you appear to have forgotten the chain of command too, son.”

At Arthur’s scowl, Dutch lowered down slightly to level their gazes. “I am perfectly capable of carrying out this particular job myself,” he flicked his eyes to you briefly and licked his bottom lip before looking back at Arthur, “in fact, I’d be more than happy to have her to myself. Is that something you want?”

“No, Dutch,” Arthur grumbled and Dutch’s expression softened into an accomplished one while you looked between them, bewildered.

“You forget, Dutch, that I haven’t agreed to sleep with either of you,” you scoffed, with the intent that if you could convince them you didn’t want it, you could convince yourself too.

As though reading your mind, Dutch tilted his head down to look at you. For once, he allowed the silence to speak for him.

“Besides,” you broke under the tense air far too soon, “I don’t even know why you’re trying to seduce me in the first place.”

“Well,” Dutch began, removing his hand from Arthur’s shoulder, “I was trying to explain earlier.” He pondered his next sentence, a sly smile growing on his face. He removed his hat, placing it nearly on a table by the window and pushed his pomaded hair back. “But,” his already low voice lowered further, “I reckon we should compromise; do a little show and tell.”

You looked to a listening Arthur and back to Dutch, who slowly walked round to the side of the bed and sat on the edge of it beside you, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. His warm, calloused fingertips almost made you forget yourself and it was an effort not to lean into his hand.

“I don’t think you realise how much I value you, darlin’,” Dutch returned his hand to himself and you blinked owlishly at his change of tone. “Your hard work hasn’t gone unnoticed; I know we need the money but life is not all about work. Sometimes... it’s about play, too,” he smirked, his voice evenly laced with sincerity and seduction. “So, me and Arthur here,” Dutch’s hand crept onto your thigh, firmly holding the flesh, “have decided to give you a hand or two with some well-deserved relaxin’, while thanking you for said efforts.”

With Arthur watching Dutch’s hand with intent, you felt like a grand prize on display with the lust-filled expressions on the faces of these two men. The thought of them desiring you, discussing you, sharing you...

“But,” Dutch’s tone sharpened and he squeezed your thigh, bringing his face closer to yours, “what we do not appreciate is you forgetting your role.” At your narrowed brow, Dutch elaborated. “You are well aware of the hierarchy, miss.”

“It’s just that -”

“I know,” Dutch interrupted softly. “You want to help. Be that as it may, that does not put you above me, nor does it put you above Arthur.”

It was a fair comment. Maybe you had been a little bossy recently, but they at least seemed to understand the intent behind your actions. What wasn’t clear was the relation that had to the current circumstance. “Why does that matter with this, though?”

The two men shared a knowing glance and looked back to you. “Oh darlin',” chuckled Arthur.

“What?”

“While we’re here for you, you are also here for us. We’d like to get what we’re owed from you.”

At the sight of these two men looming over you, predatory looks tainting their eyes, something inside you weakened and you shifted minimally on the bed. It was enough of a tell for them and they smirked in unison, the bastards; they knew exactly what feeling had just shot through you.

“What do you think, Arthur?” Dutch teased.

“I think she wants it.”

They looked at you expectantly and Dutch raised a quizzical brow. He leaned in, skirting around to your jaw and pressing his lips against it. “You know how persuasive I can be,” he murmured before placing another peck.

The light tingling sensation pricking the surface of your skin began to seep deeper, your pulse thrumming with arousal and you could no longer pick out an excuse not to go through with it. The building hunger in Arthur’s eyes and Dutch’s moustache tickling your face eviscerated your final straw.

You turned your head to capture Dutch’s lips with yours, feeling him smirk at your eagerness and tenderly kiss you back twice until a cold brush of air took their place. Opening your eyes, you were met with him pulling away and you frowned, leaning in once more and he placed his index finger over your mouth.

“Tell me who’s in charge,” he purred, but didn’t give you room to answer as the tip of his finger pressed down and you opened your mouth to allow him in, sucking gently and feeling set alight by how he bit down on his bottom lip. A faint taste of gunmetal and tobacco transferred onto your tongue and he lewdly pushed his finger in and out, stopping once he’d created a rhythm and pulling his now shining finger from your mouth. He used it to tip your chin up, marvelling at your undone and half-lidded gaze.

“Tell me,” he commanded softly.

“You are, Dutch.”

“And then?”

“Then,” you glanced to a smug-looking Arthur, who was using every inch of his willpower not to pounce on you, and rolled your eyes. “Arthur.”

“I don’t think I like her attitude, Dutch.”

“Me neither.”

“Fine, sorry. Then Arth -”

Dutch let go of your chin and held up his hand, silencing you. “Too late now. I was going to start off by asking dear old Arthur here to pleasure you with his mouth as a reward for your hard work, but looks like we’ll have to get the brat out of you first.” At your questioning frown, Dutch brushed a hand over your hair lovingly and down your face until his thumb landed on the pad of your bottom lip, pulling it apart from your top one. “Use this pretty mouth of yours on him, instead.”

You could practically hear Arthur’s buzz of excitement at Dutch’s words, the younger man unable to sit still on the bed.

“And what are you going to do?” you asked Dutch, noticing the growing hardness in his pants in your peripheral vision.

Dutch smirked, pleased that you were concerning yourself with his part in all this, and pulled out the cigar that was weighing down his pocket and held it up for you to see. “I’m going to enjoy this, while I enjoy,” he looked between you and Arthur, “this.”

With that, Dutch stood and turned, making his way to the comfortable chair in the corner of the room and you turned your head to look at a grinning Arthur.

“You aren’t ever going to let me live this down, are you,” you scoffed and his grin widened.

“If I have my way, darlin’, this won’t be a one-time thing,” he adjusted his crotch absent-mindedly, unable to stop his wandering eyes and leaned in to place a kiss on your cheek, “least not between us.”

“Less of that, Arthur,” Dutch warned gently, hands clasped on his lap and cigar not yet lit.

Arthur playfully rolled his eyes and your cheeks grew warm, further still with the subsequent kiss that was placed on your other one. “I’m gonna kiss you now, darlin’,” he whispered and nudged his nose against yours and you tilted your head up to reach him, your eyes fluttering closed as his warm lips pressed onto yours, his stubble scratching against your skin. It was surprising that he managed to be gentle considering his excitement for the situation, but even Arthur’s mind recognised this as your first kiss and wanted to savour some of the moment.

He brought his hand to hold your face and yours found his waist in turn, the two of you edging your bodies closer and deepening the kiss. You sighed happily into it and felt his mouth open, allowing your tongue to cross the boundary with ease. The pad of Arthur’s thumb grazed your cheekbone as you continued to explore each other's mouths.

“If I wanted to watch a romance I’d have gone to a picture house,” Dutch scoffed, you and Arthur pulling apart to give him a glance, his posture remained as it was previously, before smirking at each other. You glanced down, running a fingertip over the button on his pants and being thankful for the kissing as an excuse for the excess saliva that entered your mouth at the thought. “Suck his cock, sweet one.”

When you pushed the button out through the hole, Arthur’s chest tensed in an attempt to calm his shortening breaths and you glanced up at him through your lashes.

“Stand up for me, cowboy,” you cooed, deciding against teasing him for the blush that spread on his cheeks and nose. He did so, but quickly rolled his shoulders back and cleared his throat as he reminded himself why this was all happening in the first place.

“Was gonna do that anyway,” he mumbled, “not doin’ it ‘cause you asked me to.”

Dutch’s mocking chuckle was quiet and Arthur shot him a glare as you suppressed your own laughter, moving to kneel on the bed while pulling his work pants halfway down. You eyed the bulge of Arthur’s hard cock and the small dab of precum showing through his union suit, gently running your hand over him and feeling your confidence growing at his even shorter breaths.

After caressing him for a moment, reminding your imagination not to get too ahead of itself at the thought of him inside you, you began undoing buttons to free him from its confines. Once his cock sprang free you glanced up at him, offering a coy smile at the almost-painful display of restraint on his face. You licked your palm, finding a good use for that excess saliva, and grasped him. You intently watched the pleasure grow on his face and offered a few slow pumps of his shaft until he managed to open his eyes and look down at you, a hand finding its way into your hair to move the strands away from your face.

You leaned forward, kissing the side of him and the sound of want from his throat warned you off teasing him further, bringing your tongue out to run along a particularly prominent vein until reaching the head, pausing there to get a taste of his precum. The strike of a match made you pull off, looking over to Dutch who took a drag of his cigar and held his hand up in a carry-on gesture.

You obeyed, returning your attention to Arthur’s cock and closing your mouth around the end, to which his fingertips tensed on your scalp – urging you to take him further in. Well, since he was the one ‘in charge’ you could hardly say no. With your hand on his thigh for stability, you took him halfway in and felt sparks in your core at Arthur’s moan in relief, his head tilting upwards while he thanked whatever powers existed that brought him to this moment.

“Oh, that’s it sweetheart,” he sighed breathily, risking a glance down at you with your mouth full of him and biting his tongue at how quickly the sight edged him to the brink.

The unravelling of Arthur Morgan spurred you on while you tasted his most intimate part, bringing your head back and forth in time with the small but restrained thrusts of his hips. His hand stilled in your hair as his shoulders dropped at what you assumed was one of the few times he really had the opportunity to let go; despite his boyish insistence on being hard-faced and stoic, his deeply caring nature urged him to overwork himself at every opportunity. His physical relaxation was as close as you expected to get to the truth about his constant underlying fatigue and worry, and you took it upon yourself to let him enjoy you as he deserved.

Relaxing the back of your throat, you hollowed out your cheeks and prepared to take him all the way in, moving your head forward as your wet lips ventured further down his shaft until your nose nestled into his light brown hairs. A snippet of a higher moan than what you’d heard previous escaped Arthur’s clamped-shut lips, and you brushed your palms up and down the back of his thighs to keep him relaxed and soothe him. Breathing heavy, both of his hands held the side of your head and he looked at you with apprehension. You managed a small nod, allowing him to do as he pleased.

Anchored to you, he slid out and back in, out and in, out and in, each time nudging the back of your throat and you pushed through the urge to pull off; the noises of want coming from him far outweighing your desire for comfort. He increased his pace, losing himself in the sensation of your warm mouth wrapped around him and then suddenly pulled out, squeezing the base of his cock and you pouted up at him.

“Shit,” he muttered, attempting to calm his rapid breaths. “I don’t want to finish yet.”

Dutch chuckled and stood, setting his still-lit cigar on the bedside table before walking leisurely over and kneeling behind you on the bed. “This is why you go for a proper man, darlin’,” he murmured in your ear and ran his fingertips up your flank. “Not a youngster who wets his pants every five minutes.”

“You’re just a jealous old man who’s bitterly passed his prime, Dutch,” Arthur shot back, blinking up at the ceiling and thinking of anything that would keep his orgasm at bay.

Fingertips pressing into your hips, Dutch kissed the side of your neck and sighed with arousal, hot breath landing on your skin. He pulled you into him so your back met his front and you felt his arousal too, thick and hard as it pressed into you and keened at the thought, fluttering your eyes closed and baring your neck to give him better access.

“Let us take care of you,” he purred, clearing his throat and huffing a small laugh through his nose. “Sweetheart.”

You smirked, but decided to come to Arthur’s defence when the man tutted and glared at Dutch. “I think it’s nice.” Arthur tensed his jaw, unable to stop the heat burning in his body as he watched you grow weak in Dutch’s arms with the man’s hands gently stroking your sides and stomach.

Dutch hummed indifferently, breathing in the scent of your skin as it too grew hot. “I don’t think you want nice.”

“W-What makes you think that?” you breathed, bringing your hands over his as they settled on your lower abdomen.

You felt his smirk against your skin as you relaxed back into his warmth, fully seduced and content. “You’re with two wanted outlaws who have a single desire of fucking you,” Dutch lamented, “and you appear to be right at home.”

A small chuckle sounded in your throat, transmuting into a quiet whine when Dutch’s talented hands slid further down to your thighs, bunching up the fabric of your skirt.

“That’s it,” he whispered softly against the shell of your ear. Then his hands were gone and he shifted behind you and the faint burning of tobacco sounded as he took a deep drag, chest puffing out and nudging your back. Dutch brushed his hand over your shoulder and to your chin, taking it in a firm grip and tilting your head back to look at him. He leaned in and kissed you, releasing the smoke into your mouth as he did. You coughed slightly in surprise but his grip remained firm, holding your face to his. Eventually, you breathed the second-hand smoke in from his mouth and relaxed some, and once Dutch was satisfied with your pliancy, he pulled away from you, pushing the underside of your chin to keep your mouth shut. He smiled proudly and took another long drag, this time blowing the smoke up into the air.

You watched as it rose and faded while your throat burned, Dutch humming a laugh at your hazy expression and stubbing the cigar out to free his hands up so he could touch you. “Oh, my girl,” he began, palms snaking around your waist to nestle your form into his chest and placing a chaste kiss on your cheekbone while the smoke escaped your nose, “we are going to have some fun with you.”

Arthur stood in front of you, frankly feeling left out now that he’d calmed himself down, and placed his hands on his hips. “I think it’s time for us to explore this body of yours, miss,” he smirked down at you cheekily, cocking his head to the side and you blushed with a nod of agreement.

“Sit back for us,” said Dutch as he shifted away to allow you to move. Turning your body, you lay back on the bed with your head resting on the soft pillow and blinked up at him, more than happy to play your part.

“Like this?”

“Just like that.” Dutch glanced to Arthur who knelt on your other side and they seemed to communicate through gaze alone, a honed practice through years of riding together, and Arthur’s attention turned to your patient body while Dutch moved off the bed to walk around and sit at the end, loosening his collar as he went.

Arthur propped himself up on his forearm and leaned over you, blocking your view of Dutch but you could feel him start to get to work undressing you by loosening your skirt. Arthur’s breath came down hot on your skin as he touched his nose to yours. He kissed you once, then began littering your jaw and neck with more pecks and sucks as Dutch pulled at the fabric of your skirt and you lifted your hips to allow the garment to slide off. Arthur flicked his tongue out over your collarbone and you sighed happily, twirling the end of his overgrown hair around your index finger. He began to unbutton your shirt with one hand, impressing you with his multitasking ability and when it opened you shifted your torso up so he could reveal your arms and discard the shirt to the floor.

Broad hands ran up your thighs, kisses pressed to the inside of your knee, making a path upwards as Arthur’s made a path downwards to the top of your breasts. He admired the soft flesh poking out and undid the stay at your waist, discarding it so he could view the natural form that resided beneath. His palm ran up and stopped just beneath your breast, the cocky outlaw’s own clothes feeling far too tight and restrictive given the current situation. He persevered, looking at you with eyes glinting as the corners of his mouth tilted upwards. The eye contact remained as he lowered his head and you watched him kiss the middle of your chest through the fabric. His hand arrived at its destination, and you moaned gently as he squeezed the flesh like he’d been waiting to do so all day.

Dutch took his opportunity as your knees relaxed and your legs opened for him, exposing the damp patch between your legs where your garment stuck to your skin. The traced outline of your pussy sent a pulse through his cock and he brought a hand to his bulge in an attempt to extend his patience. You would be worth the wait.

His restraint only went so far, and it seemed to be a shared experience between the men as Arthur’s tongue teased your hardening nipple, wetting the fabric with his saliva, and Dutch brushed a knuckle over the patch, eliciting a full-body shiver from you.

Arthur hummed his amusement around the nipple he’d sucked into his mouth as Dutch made himself comfortable with his face at the perfect height to observe your most precious part. “Shit, Arthur,” he swallowed, mirth laced into his tone, “our girl really is enjoying this.”

Embarrassment washed over you briefly and your legs threatened to close, but Dutch’s palms held them firmly open. “No no, you keep this on display for me.” One hand journeyed up your leg until his thumb could run over the damp cotton and subsequently apply pressure to you, and the other came to hold your hip while his forearms kept your legs clamped to the bed. Arthur released you to get a look for himself, biting down on his lip at the thought of you all wet through your pants. “Goddamn,” he marvelled then turned back to you, “you do surprise me.” At your scowl, he offered you a genuine smile and shifted up to plant a kiss on your lips. “You’re such a sweet girl,” he murmured against them, “just be sweet to us. You don’t need no barriers up here.”

As his honeyed words had their desired effect of softening you some, Dutch’s tongue pressed expertly against your slit and wettened the fabric further as it slid down, his lips subsequently closing around the region of your clit and getting his first taste of you. You moaned into Arthur’s mouth as he kissed you again and your palms flew to the sides of his neck to use him as support lest you fly right off the bed.

Dutch sucked gently, the fabric becoming almost see-through as Arthur chuckled at your responsiveness, resuming his appraisal of your breasts. He took one in each hand, kneading them and kissing around both nipples until he could no longer wait to see you in all your glory, Dutch sharing the thought.

Both men paused, at an impasse thanks to your full-bodied undergarment. They looked at each other and then to you and you chuckled smugly, your tongue darting out to wet your lips as you caught your breath. “Don’t look at me, I’m not the one in charge here.”

Arthur tutted fondly and Dutch gave you a daring look. He leaned to the side, picking something up off the floor though you couldn’t see what. “Arthur,” he commanded, throwing a hunting knife to him that he thankfully caught, “get this thing off her.”

“I don’t think so.” You brought your hands to your chest as Arthur twirled the knife around his fingers.

“We’ll get you another,” Dutch promised, nodding to Arthur to continue. Arthur smiled at you, up for the challenge, taking each wrist in his hands and pinning them above your head. “You gonna be a good girl and keep these here?”

You bit down on your lip and nodded, feeling delightfully powerless under Arthur’s strong grip as his eyes blew wide with lust and excitement. He waited there a beat, daring you to try and disobey and looking pleased when he removed his hands and yours remained in position. He took the knife and placed the tip at your belly button, sliding the blade up until the fabric was ruined and your breasts revealed. He licked his lips hungrily, unable to tear his eyes away as he passed the knife down to Dutch before nodding at your arms to come back down so he could relieve you completely. As you complied, the knife clattered to the floor and you looked down in time to see Dutch with a hand on either side of the incision, pointedly ripping open the rest and you jolted slightly at the sound and the cold air meeting your wetness.

Without needing to be asked, you lifted your hips for Dutch to pull the rest of your garment off and discard that to the floor, leaving you completely bare.

The atmosphere shifted. The men’s eyes drank in your body, minds running wild with their plans for marking and claiming it as their own. They were silenced as though in the presence of a divine deity, palpable long-awaited tension seeping all around you and filled with desire thanks to these two men that emanated it.

All at the sight of you.

Something about it felt right, despite how wrong it was. It was absurd, really, but you decided to milk the situation for all it was worth. You took a breath to expand your chest for Arthur and widened your legs for Dutch, smiling wickedly at the pair of them. “I’m starting to question who’s really in charge here.”

Dutch’s nose twitched with irritation as he narrowed his eyes at you and then honed in on the space between your legs. “Shut the brat up, Arthur.”

A lot happened all at once after Arthur muttered “with pleasure.” Teeth bit down on your nipple, a hand pressing onto your flank to keep you still and another over your mouth, and a tongue swiped up your slit, tearing a moan so lewd it took you a moment for you to register that you were the one that made it. The sound alone, even while muffled through Arthur’s palm, was enough to ignite the primal desire of the two men enjoying your body, Dutch licking up everything your cunt had to offer and Arthur adding more small bruises and bite marks to the collection growing on your chest.

You writhed under the sensation, channelling it into your hips and bucking into Dutch’s mouth as the wet pad of his tongue entered you, lapping up your juices and soaking his moustache. Arthur’s grip on your breasts increased, verging on painful but he soothed you by licking up your cleavage and not stopping until he reached your ear, sucking on your lobe and growling as you gasped, arching up to him and grasping at his sides.

He took your wrists in his hands and pinned you once more, taking a moment to admire you in this state and once his gaze landed on your lips, he didn’t hesitate in pressing his against them and initiating a sloppy kiss, both of your accumulated saliva mingling as your tongues circled each other. Meanwhile, Dutch’s tongue continued to tend to your... other lips.

It continued to fuck your cunt, and you briefly wondered how much his jaw must be hurting but your attention soon turned back to Arthur who nipped at your bottom lip, noticing your thoughts drifting away from him.

Lost in his wet kisses for some time, you broke away and jolted when something wet pressed against your other hole, one that as far as you were concerned should not be included in this.

“Dutch!” you yelped, glaring down at the man who flicked his eyes up to meet you, looking hazy and drunk, lost on what resided between your legs. A sly smile grew on his face, and his tongue repeated its earlier motion, circling the ring of muscle between your cheeks while confidently retaining eye contact.

“What,” you yelped again, trying to wriggle backwards out of pure embarrassment and you ignored Arthur’s chuckle, “the hell are you doing?”

He sighed, taking his mouth off you entirely and the air felt cooler thanks to all of his spit mixed in with your slick, which wasn’t much thanks to Dutch greedily drinking it up, that encompassed the entirety of your nether regions. “Darlin’,” he began, almost sounding as though he was trying to comfort you as he held the sides of your thighs in his hands. “How else do you plan on having two men fuck you?” at your bewildered expression, he continued and Arthur waited patiently, allowing himself to continue fondling your breast and you tried to not focus on the sensation as he rolled your nipple between his fingers. “You’ve got two holes, and we’ve got two cocks,” Dutch said plainly.

“But –” you cleared your throat, “won’t that hurt?”

Dutch smiled, kissing the inside of your thigh and Arthur’s hand came to your jaw, guiding your gaze over to him. His expression was amused but slightly softened which soothed your concern somewhat. “Not if Dutch relaxes you, which is what he’s trying to do right now.”

You looked back to Dutch who raised his brows in agreement, and you pouted with no further excuses coming to mind. The idea intrigued you, but it was still new and strange. Though, something about the two of them fucking into you sent your mind into a tizzy...

“What I’d give to read those thoughts right now,” Dutch hummed, moving the tip of his index finger onto your clit to lazily rub over it, gently keeping you stimulated. Once again, you relaxed under his touch. “Trust in me, darlin’. I know what I’m doing.”

Still, your mind whirled with intrigue and uncertainty. “What about -”

“Arthur,” Dutch commanded with the man’s name alone, who proceeded to silence your array of questions with the crash of his lips into yours. Neither man seemed to want to give you time to ask them, more intent on showing as it was previously decided, both of their tongues working in tandem and when Dutch’s made its way south again you lost all trails of thought.

His finger slipped into your cunt, slowly and gently fucking you and soon adding a second at your body’s willingness to partake. Your walls clenched around him, the cold metal of his ring nudging your skin every time he thrust his fingers in. He curled them upwards, gently testing how aroused you were and your toes curled in response at the pressure on that spot inside you, Dutch watching with infatuation as you took in his soaked fingers.

His thumb slid down, pressing onto your hole and you couldn’t help but squirm again. It moved off, and when it returned there was a cool substance there, almost like jelly. “It’ll help,” Dutch murmured when he noticed your expression and circled it around, toying with the pressure and on the next thrust in of his fingers he attempted to penetrate your ass with his thumb, but your thighs tensed at the intrusion.

“Arthur,” Dutch said, breaking the man out of his hazy obsession with your breasts. “I’m gonna need you down here to help her relax.”

Arthur glanced at you and you offered him a short nod, apprehensive at how it would feel but knowing you were still willing to try. He trailed kisses down your stomach, pulling your lips apart to get a look at you and groaning at the site. He drew the tip of his finger down the line of your slit, slowly collecting your juices and coming back up again. Your torso relaxed and you dropped your head back, Dutch’s fingers pulling out so Arthur’s could slide in. Dutch opted for using his tongue once more, drawing over your hole with his tongue flat, and Arthur took some inspiration, bringing his mouth down on your pussy to gently suck on your clit.

“Oh... my god,” you breathed, both of their tongues working to build up your pleasure and you grasped at the sheets and widened your legs as much as you could.

“You like that, darlin’?” asked Dutch, muffled thanks to his current position.

“Mhm,” was all you could respond with, and Arthur doubled down on his efforts, lapping at your cunt while Dutch slid a finger into your ass. It was a different kind of feeling, but you didn’t have the urge to wriggle away this time.

“That’s it,” Dutch cooed, “lean into that feelin’.”

And you did. You moved your hips in time with his motions, feeling yourself relax with Arthur diligently tending to you with his tongue. Your body throbbed, arousal coming through you in waves but you still needed more, one taste being more than enough to make you greedy. “More,” you whispered, and within moments Dutch slowly pushed a second finger in to join the first.

This time it felt like more of a stretch, thankfully not painful but enough that you actively had to focus your mind on the pleasure, breathing steadily and fighting against the urge to close your legs. They continued, each lick and thrust bringing you closer to the brink and you moaned, bringing your hands to grip Arthur’s head as he sucked on just the right spot.

“Arthur, I’m gonna -” you warned, and the man groaned like he was eating his favourite meal.

“I wanna taste you, come on,” he said, barely taking his mouth off you to speak and relishing in being held down to your pussy like this. Dutch took the opportunity to add a third finger, not wanting to hurt you when the time came for him to use his cock, and the fullness along with the attention on your clit made your legs shake and you pushed your hips up, a silent moan punctuated with a stuck breath as you tensed, your orgasm washing through your body as Arthur drank up all you had to give him.

The motion of Dutch’s thrusts slowed but his fingers remained sheathed, and Arthur’s vigorous licking and sucking turned to light kisses as you sunk into the bed. The two men looked up to observe you and you chuckled breathlessly at their flushed faces. “That was...”

“Delightful,” Arthur finished, wiping his mouth on his sleeve and moving up the bed to lie beside you, pressing his lips to yours to give you a taste of yourself. At the same time, Dutch’s fingers left you and he littered your inner thighs with small pecks.

“We ain’t half done yet,” Dutch informed you, and Arthur brushed a strand of hair from your forehead that was stuck there thanks to the sweat.

“You’ve got more in ya, ain’t you darlin’?” he asked lowly, watching your chest in raptures as it rose and fell with your slowing breaths. “I know you got more for us.”

You nodded and opened your eyes to the sight of Dutch making his way to his feet, unbuttoning his pants and revealing a peak at the base of his cock. He appeared to think twice, moving around the bed and tapping your shoulder for you to sit up. You frowned at him.

“I’ve been dying to get into that sweet pussy of yours. Plus, I think Arthur would be happy to taste you again,” he nodded to the man, who raised his eyebrows in agreement.

“It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?”

“I’m naked.”

“You only just realisin’?” Arthur chuckled and you rolled your eyes.

“You’re both still fully dressed!”

Arthur shrugged at Dutch. “The lady has a point.”

“Fair is fair,” Dutch hummed, unbuttoning his shirt as Arthur pulled his over his head. You smiled, looking between them as various bits of flesh were revealed, and while Arthur kept his pants on, Dutch shunted his down and stepped out of them, revealing his frustrated-looking cock. He settled his hands on his hips while you looked him up and down, almost salivating at the sight of this usually well-put-together man as bare as the day is long. He hummed a laugh and cupped your chin, forcing your gaze up to his eyes. “You are a precious little thing.”

He then tapped your shoulder again and you sat up, allowing him to swing a leg over and pull you up into his chest, wiry black hairs tickling your back. His palms slid around your stomach and he planted a kiss on your shoulder. “A precious little thing that we are going to ruin.”

Arthur crossed his arms, kneeling on the bed between your legs and looking crassly at Dutch. “Thought we couldn’t talk like that because she’s a lady?”

You turned your head to raise your eyebrows at Dutch smugly, who mirrored your expression.

“Do you forget where my tongue has just been, miss?”

Pressing your lips together, you shrunk in on yourself but it only nestled you further into Dutch.

“That’s what I thought. Now if you wouldn’t mind -” his hands ran down to your inner thighs, spreading you open much to Arthur’s delight, “you’re going to let us use you like a good little girl.”

Hearing Dutch talk to you like this was... different. You were so used to giving him a piece of your mind that you itched to do the same right now, except his words liquified your core and much to your dismay, you enjoyed being spoken to like this. It was filthy, he knew it, Arthur knew it, even the damn wardrobe knew it, but you could all relax under the mutual understanding you shared. Filthy was something you were all up for experiencing.

So, you relaxed onto him, bringing a hand down to his cock and rubbing it against yourself, coating it with your own slick. You turned your head again to look over your shoulder at his tense and restrained expression, then pressed your lips to his jaw and took in the scent of arousal dripping off him in his sweat and smiled sweetly. “Your actions gonna match up to your words for once, Dutch?”

Dutch’s gaze snapped to you and Arthur breathed out in disbelief, but you didn’t back down and instead just batted your eyelashes. His lips curled up into a sly smile and he caressed the side of your face, nudging your nose with his and leaning down, your eyes fluttering closed.

He paused a centimetre from your lips, and instead of kissing you sweetly, he thrust his hips and penetrated you right to the hilt.

A surprised choke left you and your head dropped back at the sudden intrusion, your walls tightening around him and your nails digging into his thighs. You opened your eyes to look at him when he held there, finding his jaw hard though his eyes twinkled down at you like you were his new favourite toy. "If you wanna act like a brat, we’ll treat you like one.”

He slowly moved out and then repeated his motion, grunting as he did and Arthur remained kneeled, palming himself over his pants as he watched Dutch defile you. “You certainly are a brave one,” he nodded at Dutch, biting down on his tongue to restrain himself. “How she feel?”

Dutch hummed contently, thrusting into you for good measure and the sound you made was music to his ears. “Warm, tight... just perfect. Like she was made for me.”

Arthur smirked, his fingertips gliding up and down his clothed shaft and you glanced at him with half-lidded eyes, reaching a hand out. He slid his palm onto yours, but you pulled back and reached for his head. Arthur acquiesced to your desires, leaning forward to allow your fingers to grasp the back of his head and pull him down to where you ached.

“What did I say about making demands?” Dutch murmured into your hair, his thrusts now at a more manageable pace.

“Oh, he doesn’t mind,” you scoffed and Arthur paused, lying on his front and leaning on his elbows, glancing up from between your legs.

“Actually, I do.”

“What?”

“Say it.”

“Say what?”

“Tell me what you want.”

“I -” you faltered, Dutch stilling inside you and Arthur tilting his head expectantly. You swallowed, determined not to let them win this game. “I want your mouth on me, Arthur.”

His eyes shifted behind you to Dutch, who cleared his throat.

You sighed sharply, and with your arousal currently governing your thoughts, you decided to placate them so you could at least get what you wanted. “And I want you to fuck me, Dutch.”

Arthur’s head moved down an inch, and you attempted to buck into his mouth but Dutch stopped you with his hands on your thighs. “Remember your manners, girl,” he whispered.

“Please. Please... I need to come,” you sighed, resting your head back on Dutch’s chest.

“Fuck,” Arthur muttered, promptly diving into your pussy with a languid stroke of his tongue through your folds. You keened, enough to make Dutch suck a breath through his teeth at the slight shift in angle. He dropped his hands to squeeze your ass, holding you in place and began fucking up into you.

Dutch’s thick cock filling you felt divine, and coupled with Arthur’s talented tongue you hardly knew what to do with yourself, one hand in Arthur’s hair and one hand holding Dutch’s thigh as you attempted to brace yourself through all the sensations.

“I’d have fucked you much sooner if I knew how well you took cock,” Dutch grunted into your hair and you whined, lolling your head to the side to nestle your face into his neck.

“You f-feel so good,” you said through a punched-out breath and the man’s chest vibrated with an approving hum underneath you.

“You like Arthur’s tongue, too?” he asked and you nodded weakly, already feeling overstimulated but too lost in the pleasure to care. “We treat you good, don’t we girl?”

“Yes, Dutch, you -” your sentence broke into a moan, Dutch’s pace slowing as his hands snaked around your stomach. Arthur slowed his pace in turn, looking up at you from his place between your legs.

“Alright, I want a turn with her now,” he stated and you shot him a hazy look, for him to give another teasing lick over your clit.

“Hey,” you scoffed, “I’m not a toy.”

“Tonight, my dear, that’s exactly what you are.” Dutch crooned, kissing your head while he gently fucked you. His lips lowered to your ear. “You like it though; I know you do.” You grumbled in reluctant agreement and Dutch chuckled, his hand stroking your jaw to look up at him, where his thumb placed over your lips. “I think I’ll fuck your mouth, now.”

Blinking at him, you nodded and he kissed you gently, sitting up and making you sit up too. Arthur moved back on his knees, watching while he licked his lips. “Whatchu got in mind?”

“Our girl is going to get on her hands and knees,” Dutch said lowly, brushing his lips down your neck, his moustache tickling your skin. “She’s going to let you stretch her pussy,” he bit down gently on your shoulder, “and she’s going to wrap her pretty mouth around my cock. Aren’t you?”

You could only nod, Dutch’s voice going straight to your core and you wanted to please him, give him the same treatment you’d given Arthur.

“I didn’t quite catch that.”

“Yes, Dutch.”

“What are you going to let us do?”

“I - I’m going to let you use me.”

“Good.” He put his hands on your shoulders and turned you round to face him and you knelt between his legs, for him to move up into a tall-kneeled position. Palms grasped your ankles and began to pull, so you shifted forward and used your hands to remain steady while Arthur placed you in the ideal position for him to fuck you.

“You look good like this, girl,” Arthur praised, and you looked back at him with lust painted all over your face. He kept the eye contact, finally unbuttoning his pants and making a show of pulling them down and kicking them away, his erect cock stood proud and patient. His eyes glided to your dripping cunt presented to him, and he couldn’t resist giving himself a few pumps for your viewing pleasure in return. You moved your hips back to encourage him and he half-smiled, brushing his palms up your thighs to land on your hips.

Dutch brought a hand into your scalp, righting your position to level your face with his cock. “Open,” he commanded, and you did so willingly.

His cock circled your lips and you brought your tongue out, licking up his head and sampling yourself yet again. He tasted wonderful, musky like Arthur and your mouth watered at the thought. When you brought your head forward to close your mouth around him, his grip remained firm and you blinked up at him where he shook his head.

He didn’t need to explain with words, instead just brought his hips forwards, sliding into your wet mouth to test how deep he could go. He went halfway in, then moved back out, then in again. You hollowed your cheeks and he moaned lowly, head tipping up slightly but eyes not leaving the sight of you.

When Arthur pressed the tip of his cock to your pussy, your whine was muffled around Dutch and he grit his teeth at the vibration, while Arthur pushed into where Dutch had filled you moments previous.

Arthur’s sigh of ecstasy sounded almost pained, and his fingertips dug into your hips as your walls fluttered around the new cock penetrating you. Dutch took turns watching Arthur fuck into you and watching you suck on his cock, turning half-delirious at all the visual stimulation. He started to think you might be his favourite asset of the gang, what with all your... assets.

You brought a hand up to Dutch’s hip, stabilising yourself as his rough fucking of your face continued and you let your jaw go slack. Arthur angled his hips to go deeper and began pounding you, lewd slaps of his flesh filling the room. He lay a palm on your back as his other gripped your ass, moving you towards him slightly every time he thrust in.

“You were right, Dutch,” he mused absentmindedly, “she feels fuckin’ perfect. Darlin’,” he breathed and you hummed despite your full mouth, “I could fuck you all day. So good, so fuckin’ -” Arthur huffed, tensing his jaw and becoming more addicted to you with each snap of his hips.

Dutch let go of your head, the powerful thrusts from Arthur being more than enough movement as each one nudged his cock to the back of your throat. Spit spilt out the sides of your mouth, salty precum coating your tongue and the back of your throat. You slipped a hand in between Dutch’s legs to massage his heavy balls and Dutch hissed at the sensation, muttering “keep going” when you paused to check it was a good reaction.

The head of Arthur’s cock brushed against the sensitive spot embedded in your walls when he rolled his hips and high-pitched moans sounded on repeat from your throat. “That’s it,” Arthur half-whispered, “come on my cock, wanna feel you – you -”

Your back arched, the walls of your cunt repeatedly pulsating around Arthur’s thick length as you did just as he asked.

“We still gonna...” Arthur mumbled, thrusts now deep and slow, though you were already way past the point of over-stimulation as you drifted down from your high.

“Y-yeah,” Dutch slid his cock from your mouth, wiping the thick trail of spit that connected the two of you together from your lips. He gripped his hand around your neck and lifted your front up so your back pressed against Arthur’s muscular chest and abdomen, and you gasped at the alteration of position. Dutch pressed his torso into yours and stuck his tongue into your mouth, holding you in position while you grasped at his sides.

He kissed you deep and passionately while Arthur kissed and nibbled on your neck, eventually using all his might to still his thrusts. Dutch relented too, panting and pressing his forehead against yours. “You think you can take us both now, sweet girl?”

You nodded immediately, hoping to reach your peak for a third time and focused on Arthur’s calloused hands as they brushed up and down your flank. You wrapped your arms around Dutch’s neck, feeling as though you might fall if you didn’t use him for support.

“Make me proud, darlin’,” he cooed, giving you a final kiss and nodding at Arthur to switch positions. Dutch held you up as Arthur slid out, moving around to sit beside Dutch and hold you against him while Dutch moved to kneel behind you.

“You want it, pretty girl? Want both of us to fuck you at the same time?” Arthur asked as you moved to straddle him, his cock leaking and desperate for more as it lay flat on his stomach.

You brought a hand up to caress his stubble, and he looked almost sweet with his red cheeks and those shining blue eyes looking up at you like you were some sort of angel. To him, you were, glowing from the sheen of sweat covering your body as you sat above him, entirely lost on chasing your pleasure as you smiled down at him. “Don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything so much in my life,” you huffed dreamily.

“That’s our girl,” Dutch said, giving your ass a smack and kissing your shoulder, Arthur biting down on his lip as he continued to stare at your body. “Think you can wait a little longer, Arthur?”

“Sure,” he nodded reluctantly, understanding it may not be the best idea for Dutch to enter you while he was already sheathed. That didn’t mean he couldn’t touch you, though, and ushered you forward a little so your breast was in grabbing distance for him to occupy himself with.

Dutch pressed more of the cool substance onto your hole, coating his cock with it and then testing your readiness with a couple of his fingers. You sighed, leaning back onto them and he and Arthur smirked at each other.

“Easy, girl,” Arthur cooed, not unlike the way he spoke to his mare though you didn’t give that thought any attention, “you’ll get yours.”

Dutch’s palm came onto your back to urge you down so you were leant entirely over Arthur. He rubbed your ass that now sported a red splotch thanks to him, and pressed a kiss to your lower back. He nodded at Arthur without your knowledge, who proceeded to pull you closer by way of distraction. He trailed his fingertips up your sides, around your front and into your hair, pushing it away from your face and then leaning up to kiss you, gently pulling you down as he lowered his head to the bed.

Arthur nipped playfully at your bottom lip, coaxing your mouth open and diving his tongue in to experience you once more. He hadn’t expected the kissing to be one of his favourite parts of this. Holding a hand to the back of your head, you didn’t have much choice but to keep it going but gasped when Dutch pressed the head of his cock to your ass.

“Easy,” Arthur repeated, his lips only a centimetre from yours and began kissing you again while Dutch paused.

“Be good for me, darlin’,” Dutch purred, pressing his cock forward again experimentally. “I know you can take it.”

You calmed your breathing, not realising it’d sped up and when Dutch breached you with the end of his thick cock you moaned loudly, screwing your eyes closed at the stretch.

“Want me to -”

“No,” you grouched, “god no. Keep going.”

Dutch chuckled, pushing in further while Arthur lavished your neck with wet pecks and licks, keeping your head held still and caressing your chest with his other hand. He pinched your nipple at the same time Dutch edged further in once again, the stretch coming a little easier now. You groaned through gritted teeth, shifting your hips back to take the rest of him, not stopping until your ass met his hips.

With a hand squeezing each ass cheek, Dutch’s chest vibrated with a growl. “God damn.”

“We knew you could do it,” Arthur said absentmindedly, still focused on using his lips to taste every inch of your skin.

It was an unusual sensation to say the least, you knew you’d be sore in the morning but there was something tantalising about being filled this way, and Dutch’s reaction made it all the more worthwhile. He shifted himself out a little and offered you a short thrust, digging his fingertips into your skin at the moan that left you. With his and Arthur’s hands holding you down, you attempted to shift your hips, urging him in to let him know that it was okay. He did another small thrust and you huffed hoarsely. “More.”

Dutch paused, letting out a tense breath. “What have I told you about telling me what to do?”

You whined pitifully, desperate to come again and knowing that despite appearances Dutch didn’t want to risk hurting you. But you knew it was okay, and you knew you wanted more. “I don’t care,” you breathed. “More. Please.”

With a pleased hum, Dutch trailed his palm up your spine and back down to your lower back to hold you down. “Fuck her, Arthur.”

Arthur didn’t need to be told twice, already starved of you and ceased his affections on your neck, grasping his cock and lining up with your entrance. Before he could thrust up, the pressure from Dutch’s hand increased and he pushed you until Arthur was completely inside you, your knees widening to accommodate the distance and gasping at the feel of his cock sliding in.

You couldn’t describe it. It was like all the air had been pushed from your lungs, feeling almost too full with both of their hard cocks nestled comfortably in you. It felt so dirty to be used like this by a pair of outlaws, but that only made the whole thing more enjoyable.

Arthur’s palms came to either side of your rib cage, unsure who was supporting who and took a deep breath while watching the ecstasy grow on your face. He ground his hips into you and your walls clenched, Dutch nestling his hips against your ass. Neither man seemed to want to be the first to thrust, so you rose forward slightly and sank back, whimpering as the two cocks filled you once more.

“N-No,” Arthur stuttered, gently brushing his hands over your skin, "you keep yourself still". He began to slowly thrust into you, Dutch obliging your needs all the same and it was like the repeated flicking of a switch as both your holes demanded your focus. But you couldn’t, the sensations began to merge as they picked up a rhythm, one sliding in as the other slid out.

You moaned a blissful moan, hands splaying on Arthur’s chest while he stared up, infatuated with the bounce of your tits.

“You like that?” Dutch grit out, fingertips sinking further into your skin, “like being used like a common whore?”

“Mhm,” you agreed through a breath, revelling in the repeated stretch.

Dutch pushed his hips forwards hard, jolting you forward and Arthur let out a strangled groan. Both men increased their pace, Dutch grunting with each thrust and Arthur panting.

They ravished you as though it was the first and last time, fucking you more senseless than you already were until your thoughts were nothing other than a merry band of delightful sensations. Dutch’s big hand squeezing your ass cheek, Arthur’s attempt at grabbing every part of you, and of course the ruthless pounding into your body as you whined into the sweaty air.

“You’re doin’ so good, darlin’,” Arthur ran his hand lovingly up your flank and to your ass, gently squeezing the flesh there. “So fuckin’ good.”

Babbles of their names fell from your lips, becoming the only two words you could remember as they took you deep and hard, growing comfortable with taking the risk. At this point, you didn’t care too much if it did hurt; the pleasure far outweighing the pain.

Dutch fisted a hand into your hair, dragging your torso up and you squeaked a little as he pulled your head back to meet his eyes.

“Don’t lose yourself yet, darlin’,” he warned and you tried to nod but his hold on you was too solid. Instead, you blinked at him and he understood your response well enough.

“Dutch,” you whispered, eyes falling shut as both of them fucked you at the change in angle, the brush of the heads of their cocks over your walls the only thing you could focus on.

“You’re our girl now,” he affirmed and you dropped your fucked-out gaze to Arthur’s. “All ours to fuck.”

“Yes,” you whined, debating alleviating yourself of all other responsibilities to be at the service of these two outlaws. “All yours.”

“Jesus,” Arthur hissed, gripping your thighs as he bucked up and dropped his head back onto the bed.

Dutch curled his hand around your throat, cold rings nudging your windpipe and restricting your airflow. Feeling deliciously floaty you hummed, fluttering your eyes shut while Dutch pulled you into his sweaty chest and held you there in the perfect position, their cocks angling in such a way that made you content to stay like this forever. Or at least until you blacked out from the choking, you weren’t choosy.

Arthur tested your stimulation with a brush of his fingers, revelling in how you seemed to pull away and push closer at the same time, not really sure what you wanted at this point. He circled you expertly and you relaxed some more, pleasure pulsing from three different places with Dutch gathering your wrists behind your back and holding you there. Your shoulders drew back, the only movement you could manage thanks to the stubborn grip he had on your neck, tremors journeying up your toes and fingers.

Dutch briefly relieved your neck and brought his hand to rest on your lower abdomen. “Feel that?” he breathed in your ear with a crack in his voice while he pushed down slightly. “Surprised we’ve not split you in two.”

With a dark chuckle, Arthur latched his fingernails onto your thighs while he bit down on his tongue, savouring every inch of you with the hopes of reliving the experience time and time again in the comfort of his tent.

“You’re taking us so well,” he praised, punctuating his sentence with a groan. “Wanna... fill you right to the brim with me.”

You nodded weakly, unable to move again when Dutch resumed his grip on your neck, but it was enough of an agreement for them and they doubled down their efforts, drilling into you like their lives depended on it.

“Don’t stop,” you sobbed, eyes screwed tight and watering.

“Couldn’t even if I wanted to, darlin’.” Arthur huffed, face hardening with a deep thrust as a bead of sweat meandered down his temple.

Both cocks drove into you at the same time, flipping between almost-empty and too-full until you no longer felt like you had any control over your body. The squeeze somehow felt tighter and you pulsed, both of them groaning at your responsiveness while you whimpered pathetically.

“Please, please,” you begged, wondering if perhaps you couldn’t come one more time for them but neither man planned on stopping until you did, proving you entirely wrong when Arthur pinched your clit and his cock pressed directly onto the soft spot in your walls while Dutch’s cock made your ass it’s new favourite place.

“So good for us,” he murmured on your hair. “Such a spirited thing, thinking you have... any,” he groaned as he searched through his aroused mind for words, “any control over us. We practically own you now, darlin’. Ain’t n-no way you’re getting away with being a brat again.”

“’S almost cute,” Arthur chuckled through his laboured breaths.

“Does,” you struggled to swallow against Dutch’s palm, “does it mean you’ll do it... again? I-If I defy you?”

“Defy me or not,” Dutch purred, “there’s no way I could go a day without fuckin’ you like this.”

He sucked your neck as they both stretched and pushed into you, arousal thrumming through your veins at being nothing short of a vessel for them. The knowledge of what your body did to them was wonderful. Filthy, but wonderful.

“S-Shouldn’t have let two men have you like this, s-sweetheart,” Arthur muttered, “you’ll never get rid of us.”

Dutch hummed his agreement and you felt like you would explode, passion and want filling you to the brim along with their cocks and you whined, high-pitched and desperate as your legs began to shake, the urge to relieve yourself coming on strong. “Give it to me, please. Please, please, please...”

That was as much as Arthur could handle, you begging and shaking and restrained awoke something within him and he pushed in as far as he could. His warmth filling your insides as his cock throbbed was the final straw and you gushed all over him, more than you’d ever seen come from yourself as it squirted from you and onto his hand.

“Fuck,” Arthur gawked at the sight of your mess, prompting Dutch to let go of your neck and you took in a deep breath when his hand joined Arthur’s to coat his fingers in your release.

“Holy shit,” he groaned and buried himself to the hilt, satisfied to finally make his claim on your body, thick ropes of his cum filling your ass.

You dropped forward, unable to co-ordinate yourself and Arthur caught you, gently pulling you into his chest and you honed in on the rise and fall of it, his breaths skimming over the top of your head. Dutch leaned a hand on your back, an attempt at soothing you but ending up using you to keep himself upright.

“She okay?” he forced out the words to Arthur, squeezing his eyes shut as he emptied the last of his load into you.

Arthur craned his neck and you blinked up to him with a small nod. “Feel like I’m floating.”

The three of you remained still, bodies vibrating with energy in unison and heartbeats slowing along with your breathing. Time didn’t feel real, the walls of reality blurry and unimportant while your body came down from being so thoroughly used. You were aware when Dutch pulled out, his cum trickling from you while Arthur kissed the crown of your head, keeping you held against his strong chest.

You shifted slightly, realising Arthur was manoeuvring you to nestle into his side as he unsheathed himself when Dutch’s hand pried open your leg and you blinked down as he wiped a cloth over you, not before admiring the cum dripping out of your debauched holes. He cleaned you up the best he could and you sighed contently into Arthur as he ran his fingers through your hair soothingly.

Dutch dropped onto your other side, out of breath and the three of you blinked up at the ceiling for some time while you returned to your bodies.

The thrumming in your veins dropped to a low hum that you suspected would stay there for a while, and with you still angled towards Arthur, Dutch lazily draped an arm over your midsection and curled protectively around you.

No words were needed, three bodies in perfect harmony and understanding while you comfortably drifted into a well-deserved rest. Dutch and Arthur glanced at each other when your body grew heavy, a silent agreement that they would protect you with their lives at all costs. And that they were absolutely, without a doubt, doing that again sometime.

#would you believe only 10% of this is backstory #i got carried away but who wouldnt #arthur morgan x reader #dutch van der linde x reader #arthur morgan x dutch van der linde x reader #arthur morgan #dutch van der linde #rdr2 fanfic #request #writing #my stuff

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mixed-theater-faisty-tings · 11 months

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Infinitely Jealous

Conrad Request

A/N:HIII!!! I KNOW I HAVEN'T POSTED IN AGES I'VE REALLY MISSED IT. WITH THE NEW SEASON OF THE SUMMER I TURNED PRETTY I FELT A SMALL SPARK OF INSPIRATION AND GOT THIS REQUEST FROM @shqtteredcrystql1. NOW BEAR WITH ME MY WRITING SKILLS HAVE DETERIORATED A BIT SINCE I LAST POSTED AND I'M STILL WORKING ON MY SMUT WRITING SPOILER ALERT. I AM OPEN TO FEEDBACK OR EVEN ADVICE. I AM TYRING TO WRITE MORE WHEN I CAN I JSUT NEVER WANNA GIVE HALF BAKED IDEAS. OKAY I WILL STOP BABBLING ENJOY!

P.S please don't hurt me for using Conrad and Belly's infinity for this I just love the concept. okay thank you.

Warnings: Explicit language, smut, cheesy lol, Teen Drinking, Protected sex.

word count: 3.2k roughly

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Masterlist

Requests

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Y/N POV

The stench of alcohol fills my nose as drunken teenagers dance the night away with whatever is in their system. I came to this stupid beach party with Conrad and Jeremiah who both ran off to do god knows what not that this was a new occurrence.

Jere has always attracted girls like moths to light meanwhile Conrad ventures off to do whatever he does and if someone happens to join them he won't push them off so long as they don't try to actually get to know him least that is how he has been the last few summers.

They started bringing me here with them 7 years ago when we met. I've always been closer with Conrad. Jeremiah had Belly and Conrad had me though you never want to go to boardwalk with the four of us unless you're wanting some quality entertainment.

The Fisher boys always know how to have fun the Conklin's and I can never say no even if it means coming to a dumb beach bonfire. I'd go anywhere with Conrad it's been that way since we met this includes an impromptu trip to the other side of the country to attend a Universal Studios Horrors night as my birthday present.

We were grounded for 2 months after that one but it was worth any time with him was. He'll only ever see me as his best friend though he has made that crystal clear he's been in touch with this Deb he met last summer "Nicole", they've just been talking but it seems like they could be more this summer or just a casual summer fling of convenience. Maybe this summer I'll find my fling.

"Hey don't think I've ever seen you around here?", a voice pulls me out of my thoughts. "Huh?", I connect with brown eyes belonging to someone tall, dark skinned, curly dark hair and muscular. "I said I've never seen you around here.", he repeats himself. "Funny because I've come here every summer for the last 7 years." a laugh decorates my words with a hint of sarcasm.

"Oh yeah? Which house is yours?", he plays along. "First of all creepy and second I'm a guest with the Fisher's.", I giggle. "Ah great guys always fun at a party." his attitude changes from interested to standoffish. "We are just friends all of us.", I smile kindly. "Good to know..care for a drink?", he extends his hand to me with a kind smile.

"Sure why not.", I take his hand. "I'm Lucas.". "Y/N.". "And I'm Conrad glad we got the introductions out of the way now let's get beer.", my best friend pops up out of nowhere. "Uh okay sure I'll be right back.", Lucas runs off wearing a confused expression. "What are you doing?", I hiss at the brown-haired boy.

"Hanging with my best bud what do you mean.", he slings his arm around my shoulder with a smirk planted on his lips...his lips..focus. "No why you're doing is ruining a potential new friend.", a stern tone clutches onto my words. "Friend huh? Yeah sure whatever.", he scoffs. "Go makeup with Red Sox girl some more.", I roll my eyes pushing his arm off of me. I knew it was Nicole but saying her name out loud stung.

"Jealous?", I don't have to look at him to know a sly look sits on his face. "As if. Have I ever been jealous of the girls you've dated?", my arms sit crossed just beneath my chest. "I'm sure you have been.". "Check your ego bro.", I turn to walk away when he says, "I have you to keep me humble don't I?", a chuckle follows.

"Whatever I'll see you later.", the sand envelops my feet treading to find Lucas. "Y/N over here!", a voice calls me over belonging to Lucas over by the fire. "Your bodyguard still with you?", he asks when I finally make it over to him. "Funny uh no I gave him the night off.", I smile. "Good to know.", he playfully bumps my shoulder handing me a beer can unopened.

"So do you come here just for summer or do you experience Cousins in all four seasons?", I ask. He takes a seat in the sand waiting for me to join him before answering. "I actually go to boarding school so I experience a little bit of all four seasons on holiday assuming I don't run off to Mexico for Christmas or spring break.", he laughs. "You don't seem the other spoiled boarding school brats we run into here.", confusion swirls in my head.

"I mean would you prefer for me to? Ugh my parents shipping me off to some lame ass boarding school with their credit card knowing I have a trust fund to carry me for the rest of my life even though I'll probably blow it on some stupid shit as soon as I'm 25.", his tone becomes snarky, and attitude narcissistic quickly replaced by the charming side once more.

"Entertaining I will say but not my vibe.", a laugh escapes my lips. "Good cause that's not who I am.", he chuckles joins the air. We spend the time talking soon leaving the fire to walk along the beach taking about just how different our lives are. He was good company, but I kept thinking about Conrad and what he was doing, who he was with, why he wasn't with me.

Yes, I know I basically told him fuck off but it's not like he ever listens he's my best friend and he knows y/n speak by now. Conrad maybe smart enough to get into Brown but sometimes he needs a little push in the right direction. "Y/N are you listening?", Lucas jumps in front of me. My face drops into a frown feeling bad i hadn’t been pay attention.

"Y/N quick it's Conrad!", Steven yells. My feet carry me as fast as they can without getting caught in the sand back to the group of teens surrounding a fight with none other than my stupid best friend in the middle of it.

"Con! Quit being stupid!", I push my way through the crowd and try to pull him off the random dude. My attempt was moot until Jere finally stepped in and broke up the fight around the same time as sirens began sounding.

"Cops!". The teens that once covered the beach dropped their drinks and scattered like cockroaches. "Y/N let's go grab some ice cream and I'll take you home.", Lucas grabs ahold of my hand gently tugging me away from the guys.

"Like hell you will.", Conrad pulls me towards him. "You don't own her man. She can come with me if she wants to.", the alluring guy I was talking to all night disappears taken over with frustration and anger.

"We brought her, we will take her home besides she just met you like I'd ever let her endanger herself like that. Besides your place isn’t her home. Mine is.”the brown hair boy mocks the curly haired boys statement. "I never said anything about my place quit putting words in my mouth".

"Would both of you just shut up!.", my outburst took both of them aback. "Lucas I'll see you around. Conrad let's get your stupid ass home.", annoyance prominent in my voice as I drag them away from each other. "Give me the keys Conrad.", I hold out my hand. "Not a chance.", he pushes past me and gets in the drivers side of his sedan.

"I can't fucking believe you.", his tone accusatory. "Believe me about what?". "That boarding school trust fund fuck boys are your type.", his hands grip the wheel tighter than normal meanwhile I completely lose it.

"And how the fuck would you know what my type is huh! You have never cared nor taken an interest in the guys I have talked to. God acting like my dad I don't need your protection okay I can take care of myself.", I can feel my cheeks turning hot with anger.

"You are so wrapped up in your own world you don't even notice that I do care about who you are with. You deserve more than that jackass.", tension settles in the air, suddenly this car feels like a tiny box."All that guy wanted to do was hook up with you.",his voice was filled with a know it all tone.

"So what if that is what I wanted!", he is surprised by my response. "You don't wanna lose it to some random one night stand.". "And if I do?", I didn't but he didn't need to know that.

"I know you Y/N you want to lose it to someone you care about and you know cares about you.", his grips loosens. "Maybe it's just not meant for me.", I can't let my guard down.

My eyes follow his hand as it leaves the wheel and lays flat against the skin between my thigh and knee. "Don't say that.", we finally pull into the driveway of the beach house quietly making our way in the house careful not to wake Laurel or Susannah. I make my way to the kitchen grabbing some powdered donuts from the pantry.

"I wasn't trying to upset you..honestly. You're my best friend and I never want to hurt you but lately I just keep fucking up.", he follows me after Jere, Belly and Steven trot upstairs to their rooms. "It's fine Connie you were right I don't wanna lose my virginity to some dude I met on the beach at a lame party.", I avoid looking at him.

"I wouldn't want that for you either.", a gentle tone takes over his voice. "You're not fucking up anything by the way I mean I'm still here aren't I?", I attempt to lighten the mood. "Surprisingly so.", he chuckles. "What's going on in that brilliant head of yours?", I finally bathe the strength to look at him without melting.

The way the front pieces of his hair kind of flop in front of his eyes, he's constantly pushing them behind his ear mainly when he's nervous but he also refuses to cut it Susannah loves it. His brown eyes seep into mine without even trying encapsulating me in a daydream.

"You...me...y/n you think I don't care who you date but I do.", a nervous Conrad is not something I don't see often or ever really. "Let's not have this conversation again please.", I beg. "I have feelings for you.", he blurts not looking me in the eye. "What?", I'm taken aback praying he said what I heard.

"I like you Y/N and I have since we met I'm just so screwed up and I didn't wanna drag you down with me especially with my mom. You're the only other person besides me who knows about my parents and they don't even know that I know.", the sound of the stool screeching against the floor as he stands up out of the chair echos string us both.

"Con you're not screwed up..", I gently take his hands in mine connecting our eyes. "You just need to develop better communication skills.". "How's this for practice?", his body leans over mine slowly coming down to bring his lips to mine.

Is this really happening? Am I about to kiss Conrad Fisher, I've only ever dreamed of this moment never anticipating the reality god don't let me mess this up please. The soft skin of his lips gently connect with him, his hands disconnecting from mine caressing my cheeks instead leaving my hand to go to his shoulders pulling him closer afraid to lose the moment.

I've always felt safe around him but, here in this moment it was cloud nine times a million. I didn't want it to end but we had to breathe eventually. "So?".

"Well ahem.. a kiss isn't communicating however you can take that as an I feel the same way..", I anxiously pull my bottom lip between my teeth. "I love how you do that when you're nervous.", a nervous laugh escapes his lips. "We should head up to bed it's getting late.", as much as I don't want to I pull away from his body, his warmth knowing he'll be different in the morning.

"Stay with me tonight.", it comes off as a statement rather than a question making my heart jump with excitement. "Your mom would flip if she caught us in your room.", I raise a brow. "Not if she doesn't find out or I come up with a really good excuse as to why you were in my room, and my bed.", he keeps me close.

"I don't know Con.". "Please.". "Okay fine.".

Pleased with my appliance to his wishes he leads us upstairs to his room carefully closing the door. After removing our shoes we lay in his bed facing each other, the light of the moon casting a light so bright I could see his whole face in the dark.

The soft touch of his hands push some hair behind my ear before pulling me into our second kiss of the evening.

Without thinking I immediately kiss him back, our bodies manage to close any gap left between us in a matter of seconds the moment enclosing us in a world of our own. I pull back slightly we are still nose to nose but rarely any space is between us.

With as much confidence as I could muster I whisper the words I've wanted to say for months, "I want it to be you.". He is slightly surprised by my statement but doesn't break our contact, a small smile daring to turn up the corner of his mouth. "Are you sure? That wasn't what I was trying to do not now.", the words are soft spoken.

"I'm sure unless you don't want to?", my eyes search his for an ounce of rejection. "Believe me I want to I just don't want you to feel rushed or pressured.". Without another word my hand takes a hold of his guiding it from the softness of my legs up to rest on my hips slowly and ever so gently. "Please Connie." with that I connect our lips once more.

He takes this as his green light deepening the kiss turning me onto my back so he can be onto careful not to crush me under him. My fingers dance under his shirt against his stomach and chest, he smiles into the kiss before moving to my neck tenderly nipping at the skin a gasp escaping my lips.

"We have to be quiet baby.", he whispers into my ear sending shivers down my spine in the best way possible. We both sit up swiftly removing our shirts, he gently pecks my lips allowing himself to kiss down my jawline, neck and along my shoulders till his hands reach the clasp of my bra.

"May I?", his breathe tickles my neck and I nod. The white lace is soon gone leaving my top half completely bare and exposed, to my own surprise I'm not as nervous as I'd thought I'd be but how can I be when it's him.

He begins to kiss from my shoulder back down my chest gently laying me back down before reaching my jeans. I can feel his fingers undo the button and zipper tugging the denim off my hips and down my legs.

A cold breeze hit my sensitiveness causing me to shudder. One step further and my panties have fond the rest of the clothes on my the floor. His eyes meet mine again a smile plastered on his face before speaking in a hushed tone. "Okay I'm gonna be honest it does hurt the first time but I promise I'm gonna do everything I can to make sure that you are ready before then. Do you trust me baby?".

"Of course I do.", I smile.

Our lips attach themselves once more as his thumb begins to rub my bud an action responsible for my hips bucking up. "It's okay.Relax", he reassures me against my lips.

My mind goes foggy overcome by his touch, of course I've touch myself but his hands against my most sensitive part was a whole new feeling of pleasure I've had yet to explore.

When he feels I'm ready he slides a finger inside pumping in and out slowly, our moans mix together in the air trying to remain quiet. "I'm going to add another okay?". "Okay.". I feel his index and and middle fingers sliding in and out of me a wave of pleasure washing over me. I kiss him to try and cover my moans a futile action as I end up moaning against his lips instead.

"Fuck yes just like that.", my hips begin to grind against his fingers giving him confidence to speed up slightly. My stomach begins to tighten as my climax winds up, he plants soft kisses along my chest continuing his motions only heightening my moans. "You are so beautiful y/n.", his whisper causes butterflies to let loose in my stomach.

"I think I'm ready Connie.", I couldn't hold back anymore. I wanted him, all of him more than anything in this moment. "I think so too.", all contact is taken away so he could remove his jeans but I can't help the whimper that leaves my lips at the loss.

The moment stand still our eyes locked on one another taking in this sight of each others exposed state, emotionally and physically bare. I prayed he couldn't hear how loud my heart was beating I've wanted him for so long to be more than my best friend and here he is, here I am giving him my first an I wouldn't change a thing.

"Do you have protection?", I ask. He nods before reaching into his drawer and pulling out a shiny gold foil, putting on the condom and hovering over me once more. "I want you to be mine.", the words fall graciously from his now swollen lips. "I am yours.", I'm quick to answer.

"No I mean I want us, you and me. Boyfriend and girlfriend. This isn't just a one time thing. Be mine? Please.", a vulnerable Conrad is a side we rarely see and only in his most emotional state thought I've always been his soft spot. "I've always been yours whether you knew it or not my love.", I don't blush at the statement instead I smile and plant a small kiss on his nose.

"This may still hurt I'm gonna go slow and let me know when I can move okay?", his lips lower to mine. His tip rubbing against my clit earning a small moan. "Okay.", I force the one worded answer out. As he kisses me slowly his member enters me...holy shit...a stint of pain swells inside my body, "Please move Con.", I manage.

The thrusts replace pain with bliss, his minty scent fills my olfactory nerves, the soft touch of his lips and hands dance along my skin with sweat glistening on us both.

"Fuck you feel good baby.", he's as breathless as I am. His hands grip my hips imprinting small marks on them while my nails dig into his shoulders and back my entire body buried in ecstasy.

"More.", I beg. I can feel him smirk into my neck picking up his pace and pushing deeper into me causing my back to arch off the bed our chests colliding. "Oh god." I moan gripping his shoulders so tight my knuckles are white.

"You're okay we're almost there.",his words soothe me and I allow myself to fall back against the mattress. As if they have a mind of their own my hips being to move meeting his hurts with equal enthusiasm and energy. "Just like that.", he groans into my skin.

The knot in my stomach grows and grows I'm toe curling close to my end as is he. His speed picks up, ours moans mix praying we don't wake anyone. Mass amounts of Conrads groans fill the air when I begin to clench around him neither of us could hold on any longer.

A white haze clouds all my senses as my entire body shakes with my orgasm. I feel him finish with me both of us panting and completely gone for each other and the moment we just shared.

A few minutes pass allowing us to collect ourselves before he quickly jumps grabbing an old t-shirt to clean us up. His care is gently and appreciated as some soreness begins to settle between my legs.

"So how was I?', my cheeks turn red as I ask. I grab his shirt off the floor and pull it over my head covering myself. "Perfect.", his arms wrap around my body spooning me, comforting me in a way I've never known a person could.

"Thank you for being my first.", the words are spoken just above a whisper. "Just hope you don't regret it.", his body tenses nervously against my back a sadness coating his words. "I could never regret you Conrad not about this, and not about us...we're infinite.".

"Infinite.". he repests. "I should probably go to mine and Belly's room before anyone gets suspicious.", I try to get up only to be pulled back by Conrad. "You aren't going anywhere. I told you I will find a great excuse as to why you were in here.", I giggle at his statement.

"And what about the clothes that covering the floor?", I cock an eyebrow at him. "I've been meaning to do laundry.", he answers.

"That includes my panties?", I can't help but laugh. "They got mixed up?", he shrugs. "My boyfriend ladies and gentlemen the best liar.", we both erupt in a fit of laughter though it is short lived as my eyelids begin to droop closed.

"Goodnight Connie.", my whole body relaxes into his chest sleep taking over.

"Goodnight my infinity.", him kissing my head is the last thing I remember before being swept away in sleep.

Infinity.

#the summer i turned pretty #tsitp conrad #team conrad #conrad fisher #team jeremiah #tsitp jeremiah #tsitp s2 #tsitp

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anonymityisfunwriter · 2 years

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Two Sides of The Same Coin - Chapter 19: "The Outside"

"So, how can I ever try to be better? Nobody ever lets me in..."

Pairing: Sunshine!Reader x Grumpy!Bucky Barnes

“Sam, come on!” you insist again, following Sam right on his heels.

“I already told you no,” he calls over his shoulder, picking up his pace to escape your relentlessness.

This was a conversation that you'd been desperate to have and he desperate to avoid. Using a gust of wind, you slam the door shut, cutting off his only exit and leaving Sam with no choice but to stop and talk to you.

“But why not? Steve and Tony think I’m ready!”

"I really hate when you do that," he mutters, staring at the door that was just closed in his face.

"Well if you'd stop and talk to me, I wouldn't have to. Now why not? Everyone else thinks I'm ready," you repeat.

“Well I don’t!” he exclaims, finally turning around to look at you.

“Why can’t you just trust me?” you quietly ask, the hurt clear on your face and voice.

You'd been living at the Compound for just over two months, you were getting along with everyone great. You were going on missions frequently, some even without Sam - a big step considering you were almost always by his side.

Everything was going great, and Steve told you he thought you were ready for a small solo mission, you eagerly agreed. There was only one small problem, you weren't capable of making that decision for yourself.

You were still an asset, and Sam had to be the one to sign off on it. You brought it up once, and Sam told you he'd think about it. And then he proceeded to avoid you, to use any and all means to keep this conversation from happening.

“I do trust you. I just think you’re rushing into it.”

“I’m not! I’m ready. And I want to go!”

“You asked and I gave you my answer: no.”

“You’re not even listening to me. You’re treating me like a baby,” you argue, feeling like you were back in the original days of your trio where Sam and Bucky's overprotectiveness kept you firmly placed on the sidelines.

“I’m not treating you like a baby. I’m treating you like a person who is not ready for this kind of mission,” he states, now getting visibly frustrated. He couldn't stop thinking about it, missions with Steve were different - he could trust Steve to keep you safe. But all alone, no one watching your back, it wasn't something he was prepared to put you through.

“But you won’t even let me try. Come on, I’ve gone on plenty of missions with you and James. I’ve even gone with Steve before-”

“I already said no. That’s my answer, and it’s not going to change by you standing here talking my ear off.”

“But why not?!” you beg, desperately trying to prove yourself to him and everyone else on the Compound.

“Because I said so!”

You angrily exhale. “You can’t just ‘because I said so’ me, Sam. That’s not fair!”

“Well I just did,” he angrily remarks.

“Well then… I’m mad at you!” you declare, tightly clenching your fists.

“You’re going to be mad because I won’t let you go?” he questions.

“Yes,” you fume. “It’s official, I’m mad at you!”

“Fine then, be mad. It’s not going to change my mind.”

“Then I’m going to be mad somewhere else. I’m going outside,” you huff, turning on your heels in anger.

“How long are you going to need?” he calls, watching as you storm away from him.

“15 minutes!” you shout over your shoulder.

“15 minutes, not as bad as I thought,” Sam quietly mutters to himself as he sets a timer on his phone.

“You guys set timers on your arguments?” Steve teasingly questions, opening the door you slammed after hearing your argument from the next room.

“She’s not very good at staying mad. We usually call a truce before our timer’s up,” Sam casually explains, almost forgetting that he's upset with Steve for approaching you with this stupid mission before talking to him about it.

“You two are strange,” Steve playfully comments, grabbing a water from the fridge.

“I think you mean we have healthy boundaries and effective communication skills,” Sam corrects, then he crosses his arms, huffing angrily, “Speaking of which, why did you tell her that she’s ready for a solo mission?”

Steve shrugs, taking a swig from his water. “Because I think she is.”

“And you don’t think you should’ve talked to me about that first?”

“I didn’t think you’d get this worked up about it, to be honest.”

“Well, I am. You should’ve talked to me about this because now she’s upset that I won’t let her go.”

“And why won’t you let her go?”

“Do the words solo mission mean nothing to you?”

“Sam, come on, someone’s always watching out or at the very least on comms.”

“And what’s your point? She’s not ready,” Sam angrily emphasizes again.

“And I think you’re wrong," Steve says calmly. "I think you’re worried about something happening to her, which I do understand-”

“No, you don’t! She’s not like the rest of us, she’s not ready!” he states, this time bordering on yelling at Steve.

Steve sighs, torn between what he knew and what his friend was willing to accept. “Don’t you think you’re keeping too short of a leash? Eventually you’re going to have to learn to loosen the reins a little bit.”

“I’m not. I’m doing my job and keeping her safe.”

“And I think you’re doing a great job, but you’re suffocating her.”

“Now, I’m suffocating her?” Sam exhales, throwing up his hands in frustration.

“Yes, you are. You have to remember that she’s an adult too. She needs some room to breathe, Sam.”

“I give her plenty of space, but I’ve told you all time and time again that I’m not going to throw her into the deep end.”

“But you’re not even letting her try, Sam.”

“Because I don’t think she’s ready!” Sam snaps.

“You know what, Sam?" Steve interrupts, seeing that he's clearly not going to get through to Sam like this. "You’re a reasonable guy, and if you think there’s a reason that she’s not ready then I’ll default to your judgment.”

“Don’t try to reverse psychology me, Steve. I’m not changing my mind.”

“Whatever you say,” Steve smiles, clapping a hand over Sam’s shoulder and walking away.

“I’m not falling for it!” Sam calls after him.

But for the entire duration of your timer, Sam does think about it. And suddenly he’s questioning if maybe he is holding you too close to his chest. Steve’s right, you are an adult, you’re smart, and getting more and more capable of standing on your own two feet.

“Damn it,” Sam curses under his breath. And he decides that he’s the one that needs to apologize, especially after it’s been 15 minutes and you’ve yet to seek him out. He goes to your room, and you’re not there. He remembers that you said you were going outside.

He sighs and walks over to the door that’s closest to the little makeshift garden you started after moving.

“Okay, it’s been 20 minutes, you really aren’t going to say anything?” Sam calls from around the doorway.

And it's absolutely silent out there.

No response.

And he knows that even when you're mad at him, you're not one to give the silent treatment.

He walks through the doorway, rounding the corner and you’re not there. There's no sign of you at all. In fact, the only trace that you were there at all is your journal strewn aside on the ground. You’re just gone. And he gets a really sick feeling about the whole thing.

“We’ve got a problem!” Sam shouts, running through the hallway to find anyone that can help him.

10 minutes earlier...

Without turning around, you see a shadow loom over your flowers. “Sam, I’m not done being mad yet.”

When he doesn’t say anything, you huff, “I mean it, Sam. I’m still upset-”

Then you feel a sharp jab in your neck. Your vision starts to blur as you turn around and see a vague unfamiliar silhouette standing over you.

Next Chapter

"Two Sides Of The Same Coin" Chapter List AnonymityIsFun Masterlist

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depressedhouseplant · 4 months

Text

Just Fucking Write - Day 40

Prompt: It’s kinda long so you can read it here

A/N: The altered prompt is in italics & my work is not. Also we’ve made it to Day 40! Woohoo! Also I hope my currency conversion was correct 😳

Seungkwan sighed as he rode the elevator up to his office. His day job was not what he wanted to be doing right now. He wanted to be at home researching Vernon and coming up with a plan to stop him.

“You need the money, you need the money, you need the money,” he repeated to himself. Being the city’s mysterious hero definitely didn’t pay the bills.

The doors opened and he plastered a smile on his face. He walked through the front doors and froze. Someone was talking to the receptionist.

“Mr Boo! Perfect timing! Mr Chwe is here to see you,” she smiled brightly. Vernon was standing there, a smirk on his face. Seungkwan took a deep breath and didn’t let his smile waver.

“Good morning. Please follow me to my office and we can meet in there,” he said. Vernon nodded and followed him.

“What are you doing?” Seungkwan hissed when he closed the door behind him.

“I thought you’d be happy to see me. You’ve put so much work into figuring out where I go, I thought I’d throw you a bone,” Vernon smiled and sat in one of the chairs. Seungkwan glared at him as he sat at his desk. Vernon rustled through some papers on the desk.

“I also thought I could save you from this dreadfully boring job,” he said.

“I don’t want to hear it,” Seungkwan snatched the papers back from Vernon.

“You sure?” Vernon asked.

“Yes, I’m-,” Seungkwan started.

“Because I could double your salary and give you time to do whatever you want. There’s just one condition,” Vernon said.

“Which is?” Seungkwan stood.

“You have to do one mission with me,” Vernon’s lips curled into a devilish grin. “And come live with me, but we can talk about that part later.”

Seungkwan sat back down because he knew if he didn’t then he might fall over.

“Do a mission with you? Like on the same side?” he asked.

“As much on the same side as we can be. I think it’s one you’ll find appeals to your sense of…justice,” Vernon said. “There’s a shipment coming in three days. It’s blood money. I want the money and you’ll want to keep the men worse than me from getting this illegally obtained currency. Seem like your style?”

“What do you mean ‘blood money’?” Seungkwan questioned. It’s not like he’d never heard of the concept - blood diamonds for sure.

“Money that was given in exchange for things like overlooking slavery or sex trafficking. The people waiting for this not small sum make me look innocent as the day I was born. I want to get to it first and you can help me do that,” Vernon replied.

“How?” Seungkwan asked.

“Look at where you work. You work one level above entry level at a shipping company. A shipping company that for the right fee and the right person will overlook what’s in the containers,” Vernon told him. “The shipping company that happens to be accepting a shipment of ‘custom stationary’ in 3 days.”

Seungkwan’s heart dropped into his stomach. It wasn’t possible. Vernon had to be lying. Bad guys lied all the time. But if what he said was true, how many illegal goods had Seungkwan unknowingly passed through believing that they were what the paperwork said they were?

“How much?” Seungkwan asked.

“Which part? How much would we be intercepting or how much am I going to pay you to help me?” Vernon leaned back in the chair.

“Either? Both?” Seungkwan replied.

“The shipment is about 9 trillion won. As for you, I’ll pay a minimum of half a billion won every month. Of course, when you’re living with me it’s not like you’ll have bills to pay,” Vernon told him casually. Seungkwan almost choked on his own spit.

“You’re serious?” he stared at the annoyingly attractive man sitting across from him.

“Would I have come to your place of employment and be sitting in a chair that’s ridiculously uncomfortable if I wasn’t?” the other man pointed out.

“Fair enough. What do I need to do?” Seungkwan sighed.

“So you’re agreeing?” Vernon asked.

“Yes, I’m agreeing,” Seungkwan confirmed.

“I knew you would,” Vernon grinned. “I can’t wait to get started.”

#just fucking write 2k24 #seventeen fanfic #verkwan #hero and villain prompt

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blushedfemme · 3 months

Note

how do i stop putting so much into people that they ghost me after a few months

and how do i handle that kind of rejection. (cuz it’s getting old)

oh anon 🥺 i’m giving you a big hug and a cup of tea/cocoa and a soft blanket 💞

i absolutely feel you. i know what it’s like to be the one putting so much of yourself out there, only to end up feeling like the other person could throw it away so easily. it has taken me a lot of time, growth and healing to get into a better and more secure place. all that to say, try to give so much love and patience to yourself and the place you’re in right now. rejection stings no matter the situation, and that repeated pattern is especially painful.

i know it sounds cheesy but it really does help to get into the mindset of “dating yourself.” and by that i mean taking the energy, affection, interest you’ve grown accustomed to giving others and pour it into your own cup as much as you can. start small. set up your space in a way that works for you and makes you happy. i’ve got an electric kettle and tea setup in my room so i can make tea at any time and it brings me so much joy. pursue your hobbies and take yourself on lil “dates” and romanticize your life as a human outside of the prospect of a romantic relationship. it’s absolutely critical.

ik they’re not for everybody but i find affirmations super helpful, i think in order for them to work they should be very personalized and in your own words. but here are two i use often in relation to dating/anxious feelings around romance:

everything i need is already within me

i am an autonomous being and nobody controls me

it’s also helpful to neutralize things a bit. injecting some (compassionate) reality checks into the talking stage euphoria helps to stay grounded. i remind myself that the person i’m talking to is just a human like me, with needs and complex emotions and blind spots and sore spots. their feelings toward me do not define me (whether those feelings are positive or negative.) their feelings have infinitely more to do with them than to do with me. (again, positive or negative.) ghosting in particular has EVERYTHING to do with that other person, and nothing to do with you!!! to me, someone capable of ghosting is not yet at a stage in their growth where they can embody the values of integrity and communication, two very important values of mine, so that tells me our values do not align. this mindset helps a lot for letting go after someone ghosts.

in casual dating and talking stages, think of yourself as an information gatherer- you’re getting to know someone, yes, but first and foremost you’re learning about yourself! what you like, don’t like, what brings you joy and what drains your energy. and if dating is just exhausting you, and you feel like you’re not learning anything new, it’s also okay to take a break from it and try again when you feel ready.

i hope some of this resonates anon, and regardless i’m sending you so much love (and also to anyone reading who might relate) 💕💓💖

#clarke answers #ask a femme

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write-it-good-imagines · 5 months

Text

Nothing More(M) - Two

~5k words - please, enjoy!

I see you as a stranger but it’s different… I have those marks of love, my soul is hurt. Can’t you stay closer when the lights turn down, so that you’ll feel you don’t have me?

“Then what? You just casually claimed you’re fine to be her fuck buddy?”

“Yes.”

“And you’ll have sex, at the expense of her telling you more about herself?”

“…yes.”

“You’re stupid.”

Jinyoung grabbed at the bridge of his nose before dropping down on the leather chair of the practice studio.

“I’m not?” Mark said with some sort of reinforced conviction, like that was his brightest accomplishment. “It’s pretty fair, if you ask me.”

“Fair?” Jinyoung repeated, leaning forward on top of his knees. “You know absolutely nothing about this girl, for which you are developing an unrequited affection.”

“I know things.”

“Like?”

Mark opened his mouth to answer but the words ceased to exist. With Jinyoung cocking his eyebrow and a half-mockery half-pitiful expression plastered on his face, Mark realized he really did not know much.

“She’s, uhm, a manager at Seoul Medical Private practice.”

Jinyoung nodded, as if prompting Mark to continue talking.

“And a part-time bartender.”

“Mhm. I suppose that’s it.”

“That’s it.”

A sigh escaped through Mark’s lips. “But isn’t this the whole point of casual sex? You don’t ask questions and you don’t seek answers.”

“Except you are doing both, one-sidedly.” Jinyoung rose from his seat to place a hand on Mark’s shoulder, not trying to mask the evident worry in his eyes. “You’re not that guy.”

Mark looked at the other, and ultimately away. The silence of his reflection in the studio mirror was interrupted by the other 5 members, crowding the room with their usual infectious cheerfulness. Before breaking away from Mark, Jinyoung patted him on the shoulder and pursed his lips into a small smile. “You’re not that guy”.

“Knock-knock,” Jonathan’s voice chirped before leaning his tall body against the doorframe of Samantha’s new office. “I like this room. It’s much more spacious and you finally have big windows. Think you can grow a plant in here?”

Samantha put her pen away after having signed a document. She smiled up at Jonathan. “What can I help you with, Doctor Williams?”

Jonathan took the liberty to look around the office, searching for something specific. It still was there, Samantha’s doctor coat, dropping from the hanger. “I have an interesting case, which I’ll probably definitely operate on.”

She knew where that was going. “And?”

Jonathan stopped by the hanger, tracing his fingers over the white ironed material. “And I want Doctor Stoss to scrub in with me.”

“I am not a neurosurgeon, last time I checked.”

“But you agree that you’re still a surgeon.”

Samantha looked back at the wooden surface of the desk, trying to busy herself with anything other than that discussion Jonathan knowingly started. “Then again, I was not a neurosurgeon”.

The man came over to the desk, prompting his hands on either side of it. He leaned closer to Samantha, forcing her to look up at him. “I have a 7-month-old pregnant woman with a tumor on her brain. I want the best OB-GYN resident in this hospital to scrub in with me and deliver the baby or keep the baby in safely.”

She looked away. Jonathan peeled a hand off from the desk to bring up to her chin, on a tender touch. “I will repeat that if you think you didn’t hear it clearly enough”.

“Jonathan, I’m not ready.” Samantha breathed shakily and had to close and squeeze her eyes in an attempt to keep that past incident away from surfacing violently. “I’m not ready.”

Jonathan let his hand slide further to caress the fragile skin of her cheek. “Let us help you. Let me help you. We all know that wasn’t on you.”

“What’s it to you?” Samantha opened her eyes to pierce into the other’s emerald ones. Jonathan jerked his head back in surprise, the contact between them breaking in response. The tip of his tongue wet the bottom lip and exhaled an exasperated sigh.

“It is that you chose that bastard over me. It also is that I loved you and I am beating myself up everyday you are not picking up the damn scalpel. I should have beat him much more than I did.”

“Jonathan—”

He pushed forward. “And now that you finally threw him out of your life, and a good part of your life for that matter, you keep away from me. I am still here.”

Samantha’s eyes were pacing back and forth between his features, his eyes, and his lips, as if trying to grasp the words he was speaking and put them together in such a manner that made sense. She looked at him with a look that was stuck somewhere between past and present, a look that let him know everything was a mistake. A look that also let him know there was no way to rewrite the past. And he wished he hadn’t seen that look.

“You don’t love me, Jonathan. I can’t have you trying to love two women at the same time. Not when one of them is just a ghost in your memory.”

He scoffed. Samantha did not let him speak. “You stopped loving me the moment I made my choice. And it’s okay. Because I don’t hold any grudge against you. Because you love Leena.”

Jonathan straightened his body and Samantha could not read his expression. “Let me go.”

“He killed that woman, Sam. He did. He was desperate to show off to the Chief.”

“Jonathan, I am not having this discussion��”

“You trusted him against your better judgement. You couldn’t have saved neither of them—”

“Jonathan, get out.”

The man lifted both his hands to signal he was giving up. “I can’t let you go, Sam. I just can’t. You’re losing yourself and you’re not picking up my hand. You used to take us by the hand.”

Samantha turned her chair away from Jonathan and fixated her eyes on a void point outside the window. Her brain triggered the moments she tried shoving away like skeletons in a closet. She wanted to desperately believe skeletons do not always come back.

“I assume we’re still meeting to go out tonight. We’re supposed to celebrate the new manager.”

The last thing she heard was the sound of the door slamming violently behind. Before a tear dropped loosely, Samantha thought about Mark.

In the fervent ruckus of practicing and perfecting their next concert, which was set to start in 6 days, the guys, drenched in sweat, with their ankles hurting after more than 5 continuous hours, decided to take a water break. Mark dropped to the ground, crossing his legs, and holding his body up with his arms. Before Jackson threw him a towel, Mark thought about Samantha. It had been a couple of days since they’d heard from one another.

“Hey, Mark,” Bambam chirped, a cheeky tone blatantly carrying his words “girlfriend’s calling.”

Mark’s head perked up almost instantly.

“She’s not his girlfriend.” Jinyoung breathed, pouring what was left of the water in the bottle on his head.

“I don’t think she’s not his girlfriend” Jackson joined in, throwing the shirt over his head.

“Could you stop making assumptions?” Mark jolted from his place, eager to try and put an early end to the teasing he was just about to receive. “I swear to God, if I am picking up this phone and you’ll be hovering over my shoulders, I’ll kick you in the nuts.”

Youngjae placed his hands protectively over the threatened jewels. “Don’t hit hard?”

At that point, he gave up.

“Hey stranger.”

“Hey,” she answered on the other end of the line, with a slight delay. “I’m sorry I didn’t text you earlier.”

“Yeah, no, that’s fine. It’s quite actually none of my business.” Mark saw in the mirror the displeased expressions of Jackson and Jaebom, while Yugyeom and Bambam covered their mouths dramatically. ‘That’s bad’, Jackson mouthed to Jinyoung.

Against his expectations, Mark was met with silence on the other line. Suddenly, he felt awkward for the first time since meeting her. Mark never meant to sound accusative. If anything, he might have waited for her to text. “I mean, part of the deal, right?”

“…yeah.”

“Listen, I didn’t mean that. It’s just been a very long day.” A small pause, in tune with all the other members who seemed to have drawn in their breaths for what Mark would have said next. “I can use some good company. If you want to meet up?”

“Yeah, sure, sounds good to me.”

Mark was not convinced it sounded good to her. He cleared his throat. “So, uh, do you want to meet tonight?"

Another pause. “I cannot really meet tonight, I have surgery.” She heard his sharp gasp. “Not surgery on me, surgery on someone else. I’m, uh, a resident.”

“A resident? A surgical resident?” There was a collective gasp from all of the boys, accompanied by shocked faces staring at Mark in the mirror.

“You didn’t take me as the smart type, huh? I guess smart people don’t have fuck buddies after all.”

“No, that’s—”

“Listen, I have to go. For the record, I didn’t call to get you to bend me over the table. I… I wanted to see how you were doing. Bye.”

Mark did not have any chance to protest before the dial tone echoed in his ear. The phone slid away from his ear, intrigued initially, then a furrow between his eyebrows made him wonder what he did wrong for her to dismiss him like that.

“A surgical resident,” Jaebum repeated, gesturing with his hands like an orchestra conductor to calm down the overly excited group. “That’s cool.”

“Cool? That’s fucking insane. Do you think I could find an arrangement like yours?” Bambam blurted out and earned a smack on the head from the leader. Jinyoung followed Mark with his eyes. He sensed the uncertainty and the sliver of self-doubt oozing from the other. Just when he was about to say something, Jackson went over to start the music set, to rescue Mark from the dozens of questions he was about to receive, to which he held no answers. Jinyoung thanked him with a head dip.

Jonathan was cleaning his hands when the OR doors slid open. He couldn’t hide the evident shock on his face, not that it mattered. For all he knew, he wanted her to see the shock imprinted on his face.

“Don’t tell me.”

The shock deepened when he noticed she was dressed in surgical scrubs. Then a sly smirk on his face. “You look so hot dressed like this.”

Samantha kicked the water tank with her foot, choosing not to add any comment.

“I missed you.”

She gasped at the other’s confession. Her head tilted for her to look over her shoulder in the depth of his eyes. Coming to the OR was impulsive, an impulsive decision after Mark reiterated their arrangement. Samantha knew it sounded frivolous. Only then did she truly register the words Jonathan said to her. The memories, the hope, the dream. With all the disappointments they carried. Before she knew, she found herself in the OR.

“If you keep staring at me like that, I might push you against the wall and you’d lose the bet.”

“Doesn’t that make you the loser?” she retorted, a smirk stretching the corners of her lips. “I’m just observing, that’s it. There is already a GYN resident in there.”

Jonathan shook his hands lightly to dispose of the surplus of dripping water. He turned to her as he kicked the OR door open, and if Samantha did not know any better, she would say he was relieved of her presence. “Not if you kissed me first.”

Pacing was not Mark’s way of coping with things in general. For what sentiment he paced that evening, in the lobby hall of the hospital, he could not tell. No one likes hospitals in particular, but it wasn’t the hospital’s fervid smell of chlorine that provoked Mark’s pacing. It was Samantha’s sharp dismissal that stained his thoughts. And he didn’t care, or that’s what he kept trying to convince himself of. Jinyoung’s words popped in his mind yet again.

You’re not that guy.

When he braced himself to stop pacing, he approached the nurse’s station. “Hi, good evening. I am looking for Samantha…”

The awkward pause sneaked in. A woman whose last name he had no idea about, who was supposed to be his casual sex call.

“She’s a manager here at this hospital.”

“Oh, Doctor Stoss you meant. Yes, the surgery in OR 4 has just ended, she should be here any minute with Doctor Williams.”

Mark did not get enough time to thank the nurse when he got distracted by an electrifying sound he himself had caused before. His attention turned magnetically toward the source of the joyful laughter, only to be met by Doctor Jonathan Williams, with his hands in his jeans pockets. He was making Samantha laugh.

“Mark?” she turned to him in a blink, same way Jonathan turned to her.

“So you’re the Mark,” Jonathan said, faking one of his best smiles. Samantha was too taken aback to realize Jonathan was, in fact, a tad bothered by the other’s presence.

Mark quirked an eyebrow involuntarily at the other man. He was exactly as Samantha described him, tall, handsome, cocky. Trustful. And he knew about them two, which could have changed the situation. Complicate it.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you here is all, Mark. I told you I had surgery.”

“Yeah, no, I heard, I wanted to make sure you were fine.” If it weren’t for his fingers numbing from his tightened grip around the Lindt chocolate box, he would have forgotten about them entirely. Mark extended his arm towards Samantha in a successful but unforeseen attempt to leave her speechless. It was Jonathan’s turn to cock an eyebrow.

“You shouldn’t have…” Samantha looked up at Jonathan. She was growing annoyed with his displeased antics. Not that Mark would know. “I am busy tonight, we’ll gather with Leena to celebrate, you know. Me.”

“Totally.” Mark nodded with a serene expression. “I will go. If we don’t see each other again before I go, it was nice enough seeing you like this, Doctor.”

There was something about his serene smile that tied a knot in Samantha’s stomach. In her imagination, Mark was not supposed to be that. He was not supposed to come looking for her, to bring her chocolate and call her endearingly on her title. He was not supposed to sketch a hue of pink across her face. Mark was supposed to sleep with her and forget about her.

“Go where? I wouldn’t say you are leaving,” Leena chimed in, allowing her curly hair to bounce freely against her short-sleeved shirt, “though we won’t force you to join us for drinks.”

“Ah, as much as I’d love to,” Mark replied, his eyes searching for Samantha once again, “I wasn’t invited. I’m not barging.”

“We’re inviting you now.” Jonathan cleared his throat and painted a puzzled expression on Samantha’s face. “You said so yourself, you would love to, would you not?”

Mark hesitated. He suddenly pondered over the fact that a fuck buddy would not meet the other’s friends.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to feel pressured by these two anyway.”

“No, I… I think I’d love to.”

Saturday night in a popular high-profile club in Seoul city could rival all levels of imagination. Stories that would go unknown for all eternity, on people who’d enter the club to enjoy, to fool around, to forget, on a busy dancefloor, with extravagant lights and liquor. Samantha’s cousin had one of the most sought-after clubs of the capital and on good merit. It hit Samantha that she never did face the other side of the bar counter. It had always been easier to be the one serving the poison than the one to drink it.

The reservation for Samantha’s group was made on a booth better shielded from the crowded center of the club. She waved a hand at the security guys outside and guided the four of them to their spot.

“Wow, I can’t believe I never came to this club,” said Jonathan with a newly discovered admiration for the place.

“Maybe your relationships would have been more successful.” Leena stuck his tongue out at him and the other rolled his eyes at her remark. Albeit hiding a smile behind the façade.

Mark guided Samantha to take her seat first and the latter offered a smile. She refused instead.

“I’ll go get the drinks because I am that cool and that fast. What would you like to have?”

Not long after Samantha disappeared in the nightly crowd, Mark took a seat somewhat cornered by the curious eyes of Samantha’s friends. One would say that, with all the public attention and the fame, he would get used to the squinting.

“So, you and Sam,” Jonathan begun, rolling the sleeves of his shirt as if preparing himself for some sort of a confrontation with the other man. “How’s it going?”

“Fine? I think.” He replied much less inconsistently than he would have hoped. Truth be told, he did not really know how to reply to such a question. The answer would have been straightforward for someone who sleeps with another person for fun but one does not consider verbalizing how such a relationship would ‘be’. When it is not even a relationship. “She’s amazing.”

“I bet she is.”

“Jonathan!” Leena smacked his shoulder. “Please forgive him, we have been friends since college, and he gets over-protective over her sometimes…”

Mark pondered over the girl’s words. If he would not want to be involved with Samantha, he wouldn’t mind about their arrangement. “It’s totally fine. I am a stranger who sleeps with your friend. Nothing more.”

The conversation was cut short by Samantha returning with the tray of drinks. After serving everyone, more out of habit than anything else, she seated herself beside Mark. “So, what did you two press Mark about?”

Jonathan raised both his eyebrows and his glass in a swift motion, to grab a solid gulp of his whiskey on the rocks. “Nothing in particular.”

“So, a surgeon, huh?” Mark took a hold of his dark beer to mimic Jonathan’s earlier gesture. “Can you do both? Management and save lives?”

Samantha looked down at her glass to swirl the straw around. Mark was not ill intended, and she also was not prepared to reveal too much about herself. She never planned to do so anyhow.

I want you to tell me about you in exchange.

“I took a step back from surgery for a while. It became a bit overwhelming. But I did not want to leave the hospital and the community, so I applied for a more ‘business’ like job. Now I am manager.”

“Today was just her first step coming back to surgery full time.” Jonathan smiled and shot a wink to Samantha’s direction.

Leena immediately became confused. “Surgery? You went into surgery today?”

Samantha looked over at Jonathan with a piercing look. Mark figured she had not revealed that to the other woman. “Jonathan told me he had a 7-month-old pregnant woman with a brain tumor. He came to me to ask me to scrub in. I just watched the fetal monitor, that’s all. Luckily, there was no need to step in.”

“Interesting,” concluded Leena to take a sip of her Margarita. “Samantha, can we have a word?”

Samantha looked over at Mark with an apologetic look. Guilt started building up that she purposely dragged him into her personal life. Mark raised his bottle once again, with his lips pursed into a silent surrender. It was flattering, in a way, that she honored her half of their agreement. With each word sent out into the world by the three of them, Mark’s curiosity blossomed. Perhaps more eager and too easily.

“So, how’s the sex?”

Mark choked on the beer. “I’m sorry?”

“Nah, I am just curious how a stranger in a bar got in her bed.”

Ah, thought Mark. Jonathan did not know.

“I am not entitled to tell you that.”

“Heroic.”

“You actually went into surgery? And you did not think to tell me, as well?”

Samantha looked at Leena. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen that mixture of hurt and betrayal on the other’s face. “It was impulsive. Johnny came to my office to tell me about his case, and then we sort of fought—”

“Why did you fight about?”

The moment Samantha put her hands on her hips, Leena knew. “Fought about you.”

“It’s not what you think—”

“He still hasn’t let go of you. Did you tell him that Mark is your fuck buddy?”

Silence. “I see. It’s not like you’re trying too hard to push him either.”

“Leena I don’t want him, I don’t love him. And he loves you. It’s quite visible with the naked eye.”

“It’s not when the moment you fuck another guy, he becomes all protective over a woman who is not even his to begin with!”

Leena stopped in her tracks, almost in disbelief that she let something out which she did not consider she would. Samantha grabbed her by the wrist to tug her through the crowd.

“What are you doing?” screamed Leena over the booming music.

“I am tired of being the middleman between you two fools. He is crushing so hard over you and as cocky and almighty you say he is, he is a coward. So, you’ll speak to him while I have sex in the back room. 30 minutes enough?”

By the time the girls returned to their booth, Leena had not been given the choice to ingest the newly divulged pieces of information. The two arrived in the evasive silence of the two men who could have prayed for a disaster to occur so that they’d escape the involuntary cage they’d been placed under.

“Leena has something to talk to you about Jonathan. So, while you two resolve your lover’s quarrel, I am going to steal Mark from this table.”

Mark extended his body upwards faster than he would have liked to and put his hands together in a silent apology. He threw one last look over his shoulder at the two surgeons and then had to concentrate on his feet to follow an apparently flustered Samantha. The woman guided the two into a room to the far back of the club.

A small room, still neatly decorated with a tall mirror, half a dozen lockers, and all the necessities an employee starting their shift would need. Samantha slammed the door behind them and locked it in an agile movement of the wrist. She prompted her body against the door to relieve a sigh.

“You know, against all odds, I like your friends.” Mark chuckled and took a couple of steps to seat himself on the closest chair. “A bit intense but they seem like genuine people.”

“You don’t say.”

The day had been full and heavy of unsettled emotions for Samantha. Rarely do plans turn out to be exactly how you imagine them. Samantha’s plan was to enjoy a managerial Saturday, having drinks and getting drunk in her favorite club, not reminiscent of the cold past but optimistic of the unexplored future. She could not find a plausible explanation of why she joined the surgery in the evening, of why she allowed Mark to enter a significant piece of her life in meeting her friends.

Only, she did know the explanation for all of the events. She joined in surgery because Jonathan was right. She allowed Mark to enter her life because he exceeded all her expectations of him, because, in a split of a moment, she acknowledged she wanted him to get to know her. To know the great OB-GYN resident that she was.

And this shattered the reality from under her feet.

He was supposed to be a tight hug that turned into sex. Nothing more.

“Hey, are you alright?”

Samantha did not realize when Mark stood up to enter her proximity. His hand found her cheek in a motion that was so natural he surprised himself of it.

She was supposed to be a tight hug that turned into sex. Nothing more.

“Yeah. I am tired of all these unrequited feelings and of all these unspoken memories and I just hope Jonathan lets me go already so he can be with Leena.”

Samantha smiled tiredly and leaned into Mark’s touch. He had a hunch that her confession held much more power than being about just her two friends. And he wanted to ask, the more he wanted to ask the more his heart picked up a beat in his chest.

“Huh, I think the only people who did not know they love each other are Jonathan and Leena.” He declared instead, locking his eyes with hers. Unbeknownst to him, his other hand gained a free will to intertwine with Samantha’s fingers. Mark wanted to stop. He wanted to stop his body from gravitating towards hers.

“Thanks for the chat,” Samantha laughed and ignored the burning in her chest and the buzzing in her head altogether. If she were drunk, she would have blamed it all on the alcohol, and she would have justified herself for the reason it was so scorching to look into Mark’s orbits.

Mark brought his head to rest against her shoulder and the sudden contact set her skin on fire. The devil on her shoulder wanted Mark to rip her shirt so he could touch her better.

“So, I promised Leena I’d get her 30 minutes to freely talk to Jonathan,” Samantha dismissed the dangerous thought to make space for dirty ones. Dirty ones that wouldn’t leave her longing in the morning. “Do you think we could give them that?”

“I…” Mark murmured and pushed himself away, his hand still protecting her cheek. “I want to kiss you, so, so bad.”

“What are you waiting for?”

I want to. And I can’t.

If I kiss you now, I am afraid I’ll fall in love with you.

Samantha untangled their fingers to reach up to his face. Tips of her fingers set ablaze.

Mark sighed and glued their foreheads together. Their noses were brushing against one another, and Samantha could feel each inspiration Mark took into his chest. “I cannot make love to you and leave the next day like I am the worst scum to have ever walked this Earth. I am not that guy.”

Samantha was not sure she understood the breathy words gliding out of Mark’s mouth. She was dazzled by the wording he chose.

“You aren’t making love to me Mark. We are having sex, it is just sex.”

A modest scoff carried Mark’s silhouette to wrap his arms around her frame. He felt Samantha’s body rigid in his embrace. Mark couldn’t let her see the disappointment nesting in his eyes. He couldn’t allow himself to believe in the disappointment nesting in his eyes. He went ahead and assumed a miscalculation. He had to set himself straight.

I guess it is just sex.

“Jonathan asked me how’s sex with you.”

Samantha’s chest deflated helplessly. The sudden hug and the hasty words made her afraid and nervous Mark would want to go on with his life, that he would put a stop to them. She did not want him to put a stop to them. “So? What’d you tell him?”

“Nothing.”

She furrowed her brows.

“But I am going to tell you how sex with you is.”

Mark pulled away from the hug to face her, resting his left hand against the door, the other prepared to do a demonstration on her body. Samantha could not tell how he was feeling, what he was thinking. He looked stoic.

“If I kiss you right here, behind the lobe of your ear,” Mark traced his index along her skin and Samantha felt like he could ignite it “you’ll gasp. Grab my hair and pull me into you.”

Mark’s words were even, collected. His eyes were glued to each piece of her body he was busy with. Reading her like an open book. “If I cup your breasts,” Mark ran the back of his finger over her clothed breast, a moan eluding from her lips “you’ll moan. Like you did just now.”

His hand travelled to her hip, tips of his fingers digging into the fabric of her trousers. She was unlucky it had such a thin texture. “If I grab you by your hips, this is the part where I usually slide myself inside you and you nip your fingers into my back. “

Mark brought his free hand to cusp her cheek and prompt her to look at him. By all means, Samantha was expecting to recognize anything comparable to lust, carnality. What she found instead was a stubborn tenderness that was a stranger to simply having sex.

I want to make love to you.

“Mark?” she whispered when he didn’t move.

“Will you be mad at me if we don’t have sex tonight, princess?” he stated, loosening his clasp on her hip, but caressing her cheek with his other thumb. “I am tired and I left Milo alone too much.”

Against her will, Samantha let out a whimper. Mark took her entire essence and played with it in his hands, reassembling it at his will in mere minutes. In such a short period, Mark took his time to memorize her characteristics, her reactions, and her feelings. Mark took his time to make an effort on how to please her. He never did what Mark did.

I don’t want you to go, Mark.

“Sure, absolutely. I understand.” She nodded, placing her hand above his. “When are you, uhm… when are you flying out?”

“Day after tomorrow.”

“When will you be back?”

Why would I want to know?

Mark chuckled and admired her for a moment. He was aware he was leaving her hot and bothered. He did not assume for a moment that she was inquiring for any other reason.

God are you beautiful.

“It’s going to be three long weeks, give or take. You’re going to have to find a replacement for me.”

I hope you don’t find a replacement for me.

Samantha giggled. “I wouldn’t worry too much about it.”

The phone in Mark’s pocket buzzed up with messages. He wanted to pull away, but Samantha kept his hand in place. “Kiss me goodbye at least?”

The night highway was chasing pointlessly after the black van, transporting Mark and his group to the airport. Mark’s eyes were aimed at the blurry lights, the hues of orange and red cutting through the depth of the sky. He pulled over the hood of his sweatshirt and checked his phone. Still devoid of any messages.

Jinyoung was chatting with the others when he noticed abruptly Mark did not join the lively discussion. He stealthily excused himself from the group, with a little help from Jackson to keep the others at bay from questioning too much.

“Hey,” Jinyoung plopped himself into the seat next to Mark. The latter snapped from the whirlwind of his thoughts.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“I think you should tell me what’s up, Mark.”

Mark laughed and turned his body towards the other. “That obvious?”

“A bit.” Jinyoung agreed. “Have you heard from her yet?”

The other shrugged his shoulders. “Nope. We didn’t, you know, do anything. We just went out with her friends. Intense guys, lucky me I have a bit of training from y’all.”

“But?” Jinyoung questioned, still leaving Mark to his own pace. “She must’ve been a bit disappointed you never did anything.”

Mark tilted his head to look out the window. He wished his thoughts would blurry like the reality on the highway. “Yeah, she must’ve been.”

“And you? Were you expecting anything to happen? Did you kiss her, I don’t know, goodbye?”

Mark was a bit shocked by her request. Still, against his better judgement, he drew in closer, to seal the distance between their lips. “You are irresistible, you know that?”

Jinyoung just knew something was bothering Mark. Maybe regret, or maybe repentance.

“No, I didn’t kiss her.” Previous chapter Next chapter

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covenofwives · 1 year

Text

Going Home

Dream and George are finally together again, and their first plan of action is to get to the End and kill the enderdragon. Easy enough right? Nothing will go wrong right?

Disclaimer: This is a non-tickle fic

Finally here and done! Part one of three to the next part of the God Sibling AU. This fic has no tickling in it and is mostly lore stuff. But do not worry, part two is coming right after this one and it has ticking. Feel free to skip this one if you like but you might be missing some stuff.

Apologies for the sudden perspective shift in the fic as well, originally it was planned differently and I really didn't want to undo all the work put in so they were merged to one.

Enjoy!

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It was nearing to a months worth of travel for Dream and George. The first couple of days had been spent sneaking and avoiding being caught while they traversed through the SMP and the Nether. George was lucky as he could still be seen without anyone catching on, but Dream had to jump to a bush or up a tree at the sign of anyone passing by.

Even with the server on high alert, the two had made it to the edge of the SMP’s usual zone and ventured out further. Their steps were easy now that they didn’t have to look over their shoulders every few seconds.

Even though they were far away from the usual area, they decided travelling by night would be better to avoid being caught. When the moon was high they’d walk, fighting their way through the mobs and when sunrise came they’d build a small underground home and sleep the day away. They’d usually wake around sunset and repeat the process.

The first week was spent with Dream explaining as much as he could to George. The stronghold, with the portal still in tact, would take the two to the End realm. After dropping the bombshell that Dream was from the End, he went on to casually explain that when they arrived, they’d meet a dragon and the plan was to kill it.

George’s mind raced wildly to all the information he was suddenly given and just told to accept. Setting aside his questions for now, his focus was entirely on the dragon. George had never seen a dragon before. Of course he’d seen pictures of dragons and heard stories of them, but that was all make believe. Now Dream was telling him that not only were they real, but they were also going to kill it.

“I’ve seen it once before, but I don’t remember it much.” Dream admitted as the two were carefully climbing over the vines on the tops of the jungle trees. “She was big - I think it was a she - and she’s vicious. She took over the End.”

“How are we supposed to kill it then?” George asked, trying not to let the mental image of his creature grow any larger.

“Because she’s been trapped there, alone, for years. Apparently she showed up in the End before I was even born. Way before. And she’s been trapped on this little island.” Dream explain, talking fast in the way he’d do when his mind was running high with excitement. “And she’s had no-one to fight. She’s had no-one to fight all this time so she’s probably grown weak, and even if she hasn’t she’ll be old by now. We can take her.”

Dream’s confidence was infectious, but also scarily daunting. Because when Dream was confident nothing could talk him out of it or change his mind and George made himself accept that.

After explaining his plan to kill the dragon, Dream said how the End was full of scattered cities that held powers unknown. Potions, knowledge, even the power to fly. If Dream and George controlled that, then they’d have control of the server. When George brought up XD being an issue, the blonde scoffed.

“He won’t even bother.” He shrugged. “He won’t even know it’s happened until we’ve got everything we need. Then he has to listen to us and we’ll make him see things our way.”

“What exactly is ‘our way’?” George asked.

Dream shrugged that answer off too, claiming the usual things about power over the server, having control over it all. George wasn’t so sure, but it’s not like he had much of a plan either. Control over the server was a tempting thought, even though it’d be a hell of a lot to explain to the others.

Speaking of the others, George had very tentatively tried to bring up the subject of Sapnap, and trying to talk with him and maybe get him involved but Dream shut that down. He claimed now wasn’t the right time for that, and they’d get Sapnap back but it had to be later, after everything was in place. At least George tried.

The second week, the two laid out rough battle plans. Assuming the dragon could fly - which Dream was sure she could - they’d need arrows. Dream had the plan that if George could distract her, he could build up and jump on the dragon to take out her wings. Once she was grounded it would be easier to fight her.

The third week, tension started setting in between the two. They were disorientated from the sleep schedule and everything was starting to annoy them. They’d bicker over nothing which turned into stupid fights and ended with them both stomping off to sleep separately. But it always ended when Dream would seek George out, shuffle into his bed behind him, hugging the smaller man and whispering apologies.

“I didn’t mean it.” Dream mumbled into the back of George’s neck. “I’m sorry. I need you, George. I can’t do it without you.”

And they would carry on, though George wondered if they would have been so forgiving to one another if they weren’t already so close to the coordinates. It came into the fourth week and the two arrived.

George had expected the thick forest to start breaking up into a clearing, or they’d eventually catch sight of a temple hidden in the overgrown forest but there was nothing like that. The two stood in the middle of the forest and only when George looked at the coordinates again did he realised what he missed. The stronghold was underground.

Digging down into the stronghold didn’t take as long as they had thought, but when George looked back up, the surface was a barely visible tiny dot. Dream broke through to the stronghold and George followed in after. George didn’t really know what to expect with a place called a ‘stronghold’ but somehow the place made sense. The two landed in a dark stone brick corridor. There were iron doors to the right and left and ahead there was a short staircase, leading down to a crumbled in wall.

Dream’s excitement overtook George’s curiosity to look around so the two had found the portal room in couple of minutes.

The room was wider than any of the other rooms. To the immediate left and right there were small pools of lava, making the room shine out in the dark corridors. The walls were lined with thin metal bar windows which didn’t make much sense since the stronghold was underground. The windows were looking out to complete blackness.

The main show of the room was in the centre. There was a three wide staircase leading up to what must have been the portal. It was a three by three wide structure, made up of strange blocks George had never seen before. They looked like stone, but slightly yellow and rough, and the tops of them were decorated with green trims. The middle of the block was hollowed out, making a perfect indent for the ender eyes to fit into. Under the portal frames was a huge pool of lava, which George quickly got rid off with water before any accidents could happen.

“Yes! This is it! This is IT!” Dream’s voice rose with his excitement and immediately set down his bag. He admired the portal frames, looking over every detail of them, while George took another look around the room.

In his shock to actually finding the room and looking over the portal he hadn’t noticed the strange growth along the back of the floor.

None of the stone bricks were cracked, but along the floor and climbing up the walls was a strange moss. Or maybe not even a moss. It looked like it had the same texture but it wasn’t spread out in large clumps, more like tiny little sprinklings here and there. There were small speckles of lights in the moss, pulsing with a faint glow every few seconds.

George thought the moss looked familiar. He was sure he’d seen it before, exploring somewhere with Dream and XD but when he looked at the moss on the wall his eyes caught onto the barred windows again. What he assumed was just the darkness of stone against the walls was actually more of the moss. Outside of every window it was covered in the moss.

“Uh… Dream?” George turned back to see Dream setting up a base of some sort. He had set up the beds and was sorting through his inventory. “What’s this… I don’t know, this moss?”

Dream gave just a quick glance over, hardly looking and turned back to his task. “I dunno.” He shrugged. “Moss must have grown from the damp.”

That seemed near impossible. The lava pools kept the room warm and dry, but it wasn’t exactly a normal looking moss so maybe it didn’t grow how normal moss did. George was more annoyed to the fact that Dream wasn’t taking it seriously.

“It’s not normal…”

“It’s not our concern. Just…come over here! Let’s go over the plan.”

George dropped it, because that would be the end of it. Dream had moved on to the next thing, and George would follow.

He had half expected Dream to want to jump right in to minimise the risk of being caught by DreamXD, but Dream had a lot of faith in their ability to remain hidden. He set up a small base for them in the portal room with the beds and made a last minute list of things they needed. The two then split up collecting them. Dream went to take on skeletons for the bows and arrows, and George’s collected as many blocks as he could.

Both exhausted from the day, they agreed to sleep, gathering their strength for the battle coming tomorrow. George could see Dream’s excitement before they laid down to sleep. He was practically shaking with glee, mumbling to himself and very few times he’d address George with, “We can do this. I know we can.” But George couldn’t tell if he was saying it as a confidence boost, or trying to convince himself.

George fell asleep staring at the moss glowing through the metal bars. The glow was eerily hypnotic, making George feel unsettled and fear if he looked away the moss would somehow move. He fell into an uneasy sleep, with the glow always watching.

The two woke, anxiety and excitement thick in the air between them. George was trying to eat for strength and settle his nerves as he watched Dream zip around from chest to chest, sorting out their inventories.

Dream must have woken sometime before George, because his once long and scraggly hair was cut short. It came to his shoulders now, unevenly cut, but it was looking more ruffled and fluffy than unkempt. He looked more like himself as he threw it back into a messy ponytail.

After an uneasy breakfast, they went over their materials. Each of them had a diamond sword, a diamond pickaxe, a water bucket just in case and iron armour (which George wanted to be diamond but they didn’t have time to find any). George was then given a bow with most of the arrows and Dream was given majority of the blocks mined with his own bow and a few arrows.

They both stood at the top of the stairway leading to the portal. All the eyes had been filled in except for one, which Dream held tightly in his hand. It pulsed more than ever, like it knew what was happening and just anticipating this moment.

“Once I put in the last eye, we need to jump in right away.” Dream explained. George looked over the edge nervously, obviously not liking the idea of just falling into a portal but he was glad he took care of the lava underneath.

“You remember the plan?” Dream asked and George only gave a slow nod, eyes not leaving the portal frame. “We can do this. Our plan will work. We have this.”

If the words inspired George as they seemed to Dream, it wasn’t shown. He just held his sword tightly and looked down to the portal. After a moments silence he gave a slow nod.

It was like the world fell into slow motion. George watched, with held breath, as Dream reached down and positioned the eye over the portal frame. His fingers slowly let go and the eye fell from his palm, falling perfectly into the frame. As soon as the eye touched onto the frame, a large thunderous boom erupted from the portal and echoed over what felt like the entire server. George’s ears felt like they were about to explode, but the feeling past in less than a second as the sound faded out.

The boom seemed to the right the world back into regular time. The frame suddenly lit up, and the spot in the centre was filled with a strange portal.

It looked like a night sky, but instead of a blue tinge, it was green. There were speckles of blue and teal stars shimmering and shooting through. It looked like DreamXD’s mask.

“We need to go now!”

Dream’s voice broke George from this thoughts and he looked over. His own expression must have been in doubt, because Dream quickly reassured him. “We’ve got this, okay? It’s me and you! We can do this!”

“Dream I…” How long had they stood here now? How soon would XD realise something was wrong and fly straight to them? How much trouble would they be in?

“Please George…”

Dream’s voice was soft and it flicked some kind of switch in George. Suddenly he wasn’t worried for the trouble he’d be in. His thoughts were on Dream. He imagined XD finding them, grabbing them both. He saw XD dragging Dream back to the prison, who was screaming bloody murder and he was locked away again. Locked further away with no visitors and no chance for freedom.

That thought scared George more than whatever lay on the other side of the portal. This was the only option now.

Dream’s hand outstretched and George grabbed it with no hesitation. Dream pulled, and the two fell into the portal together.

The nauseating feeling of teleportation was never something Dream got used to. In his defence, he had only ever felt this type of teleporting once before. Like plunging into cold water but without getting wet. It felt unnatural.

It could have been seconds or hours passed before Dream felt right again. He could slowly feel the world shape around him. The stone against his back was rough and uneven. He slowly opened his eyes, blinking up to a yellow sky.

No. Not a sky. It was stone. Rough, uneven yellowish stone.

Dream’s thoughts quickly went to George, and he looked around to see the brunette was not that far away. The two had teleported into what looked like a boxed off room, and George was only a few feet away, pushing himself to stand up.

Dream followed after, turning over and pushing himself up. The yellow stone felt rough under his hands. The air wasn’t cold, but it didn’t feel warm either. It was like an absent of temperature, something that couldn’t really be described. But as weird as the air felt, and as rough as the stone was it felt familiar to Dream. A thousand memories swarmed back into his head, making him nauseated with nostalgia, but he shook them away and tried to focus on the now.

Now he was here. He was in the End. He was with George. He and George were going to kill the dragon.

“Are you alright?”

George’s voice full of worry snapped Dream out of his thoughts and he looked over. The mismatched were worrying over him as well, confusing Dream until he realised he was leaning over the wall.

Quickly shaking off his fatigue Dream pushed himself up. He had to swallow back the bile in his throat before speaking, but he kept himself controlled and stood up straight. “I’m fine.” He forced his hand of the wall and made his legs balance. “The portal just confused me.”

It was eerily quiet, but the two knew there would be more outside this box. Dream chose a random wall and George helped him dig it out. George dug straight ahead and Dream started digging up, making a staircase up until he finally broke through to the outside. He called George up after.

Over the travels Dream had tried his best to explain the End, but there was really no words to describe it. When the two broke out into the surface it was a completely different world. They were on an island floating in the middle of a void. The sky was an endless sea of dark purple with what looked like tiny stars in the distance; never in focus.

The island must have been huge, as Dream couldn’t see the other end of it, but directly behind them was a fall into the void. All over the island enderman aimlessly wandered or stood in small groups speaking to one another. Few noticed the two and even less looked their way; though Dream and George were doing their best to avoid looking at them.

While the island seemed massive it wasn’t empty. Just a few feet ahead there were large obsidian towers that varied in different sizes. Some were tall, but others reached so high that the tops of them couldn’t be seen. They seemed to form an uneven circle around and Dream guessed there would be more towers on the other side of the island as well.

But why are they here? Did XD put them here? Do these towers keep in the dragon?

Dream tried sorting through the new memories. He thought he could remember seeing the black towers before, but he honestly couldn’t be sure.

“Where is it?” George asked, not leaving Dream’s side. He clutched his bow close to himself as he looked around. “The dragon? Where is she?”

Suddenly remembering the mission, Dream pushed aside his memories for now and his eyes scanned the area. A dragon would surely be easy to spot, yet Dream saw and heard nothing.

Going as quietly as they could, Dream and George ventured further to the middle of the island. Or what they could assume was the middle. The more tentative steps they took, the more obsidian towers kept coming in to view over the horizon.

“There’s something on top of the towers.” George pointed out. Dream looked over him, then followed George’s line of sight up to the tops of the tower. There was something on top of them. It was giving off a faint glow and bobbed up and down like it was keeping afloat. “What are they?”

“I don’t know.” Dream’s voice came out in a part growl through his gritted teeth. He was annoyed there was so much he didn’t know, so much he didn’t plan for, but it probably came out as being annoyed about George because his friend suddenly went quiet.

The words to apologise were on the tip of Dream’s tongue, but as he opened his mouth to speak, a sudden low rumbling sound filled the air and he shut his mouth quickly.

It sounded like it came from all around them. A deep growling within the stone that just grew louder and louder.

Dream switched to survival mode and grabbed George’s arm to pull him to one of the tall towers. They pressed their back against the obsidian while looking around for any sign of the dragon. Few of the enderman were moving to the edges of the island but they weren’t moving quickly or in a panic. The rumbling turned into growls and just before Dream left to check on the other side of the tower, he saw it.

It was a claw. A long, black claw attached to a huge black scaled hand that stretched up high before slamming into the ground, digging into the yellow stones. There was a low rumble and the hand pulled more of itself up. There was the huge body of the dragon. Dark opalescent scales shimmered and stretched along the flank. A large leathery wing outstretched up. The back leg caught onto the end of the platform and pulled itself up further. And just before the head of the dragon appeared, George grabbed Dream’s arm and pulled him to the other side of the tower and out of sight.

Dream heard the words “that’s her” again and again, but when he looked to George he realised the words were coming from himself. George hissed him to be quiet.

Dream strained his ears to hear where the Dragon was moving. The growls seemed to sway back and forth on the side of the pillar before the creature made her way forward.

The Dragon was larger than Dream ever remembered. She had a wide forehead that tapered to her muzzle. Her grey horns stretched along her neck, blending in with the spikes that ran down her neck and spine and ended on her tail.

Before she took another step forward, Dream and George slipped around the tower again, keeping out of sight. The Dragon growled again, and gave a half hiss as she walked towards the middle of the island.

“Dream look!” George hissed in a whisper. He pointed to the Dragon’s side, where there were long slashes leaking a neon purple blood. “She’s hurt.”

“Maybe we can get the jump on her while she’s weak.” Dream said, feeling hopeful for the first time since seeing the beast. “We can… Wait…”

Dragon hissed and winced as she made another step forward. She veered off from the centre of the island, going to one of the obsidian towers and slowly climbing up it. Her claws barely made a dent into the cooled lava stone, but she got enough of a grip onto it where her head perched at the top, and something began to glow and then shoot a ray of white and purple light towards her.

The ray wasn’t harmful, that was clear. Dragon almost seemed like she was consuming the light, opening her mouth and making a low growling sound but the light was shooting off, like it was electricity, into her chest and body. The thick gashes on her sides slowly began to close and then they vanished.

“Those towers heal her.” Dream mumbled out loud.

“What now?” George asked, his voice just on the verge of panic.

As Dragon climbed back down from her perch and sauntered over to the centre of the island, Dream and George pushed further back around the tower, completely out of sight, and began to revise a plan.

“Okay.” Dream started. “She gets healed by whatever is on top of those towers. I think I can see one of them.” He pointed out to one of the further towers. There was shape at the top of it, but he couldn’t make it out. “So I’ll go up and destroy them.”

“She’ll see you then!”

“Yes!” Dream quickly calmed his friend. “She will, so I need you to try and distract her with arrows. If you watch me build up and see just as I destroy whatever is up there, then shoot at her and get her attention. From a distance!” Dream quickly added when he saw George open his mouth to argue. “Then when I’ll destroy another one of those things and she’ll try get back to me. Then you distract her again.”

“That’s not going to work. She’s going to either charge and kill me, or she’ll go straight for you!”

“Then if she goes for me, you take over taking out things at the top of the tower! If she’s going for you, you can outrun her.”

“Outrun her?! She’s a dragon! She’s going to fly over and kill me!”

“Then do you want to take out the things on top of the tower?!”

He knew he was unfairly snapping. Being so frustratingly close to his goal and being argued with at every step was a pain; but he knew the questions and the concerns George were bringing up were important and valid to talk about.

“I just… I know you can do it.” Dream calmed himself down to talk again. He saw George’s shoulders slack a little. “But we’re so close, we can do this.”

“Can’t we just…leave the island?” George asked hopefully, pointing out to the edge. “We have ender pearls, blocks, and we can mine out a few more blocks from the edges of the island. We can look for the cities and ships without fighting her.”

“No! She has to die.”

“Why?”

Because Dream couldn’t think of the dragon without remembering a long ago promise. When he was small and lived here, and XD was constantly checking on the beast with a worried look on his face and Dream promised he’d kill the dragon. He’d free the End for everyone and XD had shot him down. He told little Dream he’d go nowhere near the dragon but Dream kept that promise in his heart. He’d kill the dragon and the siblings could go home again, and they could open the End for everyone else.

And XD would be proud of him again.

“She needs to die.”

He could see the fight still in George. He opened his mouth to say more, but instead he just closed his mouth. He resettled the bow on his back and sighed. “Alright…”

They made a check of where Dragon was, then set off. She was slowly circling the island, so Dream started climbing up the tower she used to heal herself. George said he’d get closer to Dragon but not too close and Dream only hoped he was in position as he got to the top of the tower.

The structure at the top of the tower was something Dream had never seen. It was hard to stare at without his eyes hurting. It was like two cubed crystallised glass that constantly bobbed up and down over the ground. The crystals were constantly in motion. One of the glass squares was on the outside and there was one on the inside, constantly spinning and flipping around but they never tangling or getting in the way of one another. In the centre of both of them was a dark pink cube. It was spinning in time with the crystals and glowing with symbols or text Dream couldn’t recognise.

Dream thought it best to be cautious dealing with whatever this was. He broke two blocks below him, making a sort of cover area for him and looked around for George. He couldn’t see the brunette at all. Dragon was still calm, so she hadn’t found him but he was completely out of sight. Dream had to assume he was somewhere behind one of the pillars and readied his bow.

The arrow hit the crystal, and the explosion was as loud as Dream suspected. He had ducked down behind the tower just as the fiery explosion rushed past his head. When the heat died down, Dream heard Dragon growl. He managed to sneak a look around the corner to see her whip her head around to the tower he was on and his heart thumped.

She took one step closer, slowly opening her maw but an arrow then flew to the side of her face. It hit to the side of her mouth and was enough to turn her attention. She made a half roar, and turned herself to the direction of the shot.

Dream just managed to catch George running behind a tower, next to a hole in the yellow stone. He jumped down, covered it up and by the time Dragon got behind the tower he was fully gone.

Relief flooded through Dream’s veins, relaxing the grip on his bow and began climbing back down.

Dragon was still frustratingly looking for George as Dream blocked up to the next tower. He looked around for any sign of George and he saw him just digging up from the ground, popping his head up and looking for Dream. When he saw Dream in position he readied his bow.

The two worked well, getting rid of two more crystals with this pattern. Dragon’s growls were growing more frustrating with every explosion and distraction. On the last crystal it took George two arrow shots before she gave up going for the tower. Dream suspected the next tower she wouldn’t give up and they’d have to deal with it.

It was a risk Dream was willing to take. That’s what he told himself as he climbed up the tower, stopping just a few blocks down. He raised his bow, aimed to the crystal…

And there was nothing there.

The bedrock platform was empty. Dream was stunned, aiming still where he was sure the crystal would be before lowering his bow and muttering a small: “what…?”

Had someone already tried this attack? Did DreamXD? Dream remembered they told him how they tried to fight Dragon when she first arrived. Did XD try and destroy these crystals too? Was that still not enough?

The rabbit hole of thoughts and regrets was suddenly interrupted as Dragon made a loud, almost shrieking roar and George screamed Dream’s name.

Dream looked around to where he saw George position, and then he looked at Dragon, who’s violet eyes were staring at George as she charged over. George quickly buried himself back into the hole he’d dug out, but Dragon halted where she’d last seen him. She dug into the stone with her thick claws and she snapped at the breaking stone.

“No!” Dream yelped, and kept screaming the word again and again as he aimed his bow again. He expected to see Dragon’s teeth turn red or hear George’s last scream, but nothing of the sort happened, giving him enough focus to aim for Dragon’s eye and fire.

The arrow landed just a little off the eye, but it was close. Close enough to pierce into a soft spot and she pulled her head back with painful scream. Her front claws dug the arrow out her eye, then she looked over to Dream with hatred. Pure, white hot hatred so great Dream thought he could feel it.

Dragon opened her mouth and Dream watched her throat light up with a deep purple, then a ball of fire was headed his way.

Survival took over and Dream jumped from the tower. It wasn’t one of the highest towers, but it was enough of a fall Dream probably wouldn’t get up if he hit the ground. But the ground was very vastly approaching and Dream knew even as he reached in his inventory for his water bucket he wasn’t going to make it in time.

Still he tried, and kept his eyes on the ground, but before he could bring the bucket forward, it was suddenly flooded with water and Dream’s landing only just hurt and not killed him. He splashed in panic, half got on his knees when George’s hand grabbed his arm.

The brunette was frazzled, with his hair a mess and his goggles half hanging off his head. He panted out “I…ender pearled…” to the question Dream thought of but didn’t have the breath to ask.

The water cleared away as George collected it again then he pulled Dream up and they both ran. Because the sound of Dragon was getting closer and closer.

Dream tried to think of a way George and him could build a cover fast enough and dig under until he heard the sound of wings beating. Knowing she was in the air, Dream pulled George in against one of the towers, keeping out of her sight for a second and started rambling.

“We need to hide! Or take her out now! Did you make tunnels underneath?” Dream looked to George.

“Not at this side!” George was looking through his pack quickly. “My picks almost broken. If you…”

There was another roar and Dragon flew around the tower, over the edge of the island. She turned, saw the two and shot off another fireball.

George had tried to run as soon as she turned, but Dream grabbed and pulled him back mere seconds before fireball flew by his face. It exploded on the ground beside the two in a fiery glory. Purple flames spread all over the stone, but then they kept spreading and seeping ever close to them, moving like liquid instead of fire.

It was a curious sight Dream would have loved to investigate further, but there was no time. He pulled George to run around the other side of the tower but somehow in the span of mere seconds, Dragon had fired another fireball to the other side of the tower and the fire flowed towards them in it’s eerie manner.

“Dream!” George screeched and pulled Dream back from the fire’s edge, but there was very little safe space the two could go. Trapped with the violet fire on either side of them, and Dragon was opening her maw again getting another one ready.

Dream pulled out his pick axe, ready to dig as fast as he could below the ground when suddenly everything went dark.

Dream and George were shadowed and crowded against the black towers. Their visions blocked by a flash of green, and suddenly the heat from the fires beside them died down. Dream’s heart simultaneously screamed in relief and leapt up to his throat as he looked up, and saw DreamXD above the two, shielding them with his body. Behind XD there was a huge wall of the yellow stone, making a wall between themselves and Dragon. She made another loud roar but XD’s face was turned to the two beneath him. Even with the mask, Dream could feel the eyes of anger on him.

Dream went to open his mouth, but XD snapped before he could talk. “Move!”

The wall curled around the boy’s left side, creating a small safe pathway around the side of the obsidian tower. XD shoved Dream towards it. “Get to the centre of the island! Run!”

The two followed the God’s orders and quickly slipped through the small gap. Dream worried Dragon would go for them as soon as they escaped, but he looked back over his shoulder and she was now focused onto XD. The wall lowered when Dream and George were safely out of range and she leapt straight for XD, diving into him from the sky.

Dream’s heart lurched into his throat and he stopped himself from running.

“What are you doing?!” George shouted, stopping a bit further ahead. “XD said to run!”

“I can’t leave him!” Dream shouted back. “He’s gonna…”

His words silenced when Dragon appeared again, but this time she was slammed forcefully on her side. She made a loud screech of pain and tried to get up but XD followed her, slamming into her throat and making a long gash from under her jaw to half way down her neck. He would have probably gone more, but one of her front paws smacked XD away before he could and Dragon was left wheezing, trying to pull herself up as purple blood pulsed from her wounds and made her legs weak.

He could kill her. Dream, thought with some semblance of hope. We could kill her.

XD managed to catch himself after he was thrown and landed on his feet. He gave one look to Dragon and when he guessed she wasn’t a threat then he suddenly zipped towards Dream and George. He seemed surprised to stop so suddenly and see they had stopped running.

“I told you to run!” He hissed and grabbed Dream’s arm.

His hand was bigger, his claws longer and his skin was shaking as if trying to hold together. Not just his hand, but his whole body. XD was taller and broader and his body seemed to be fighting with itself, his skin shaking and trembling every once in a while.

XD was shifting, Dream realised. He was shifting into his true form, and he was trying to stop himself. It was a form Dream had only ever seen a handful of times before, and each time was horrifying.

“I… I wanted to help!” Dream forced himself to look back up to XD’s mask. “You hurt her! We can help kill her!”

“No!” XD snapped. “You’re both going home. The centre of the island is a structure. I’m going to open the portal back home there, then you--”

The words ended in the loudest roar of pain Dream had ever heard from his sibling, as Dragon swooped in from XD’s right side and she twisted her head to get her teeth around XD’s body.

She bit down hard enough to draw out blood and make a sickening crunch. The golden liquid leaked through her wide teeth and onto the stone below before she whipped her head and threw XD off. He hit one of the obsidian towers enough to crack in the stone. The blood and purple ooze from within the obsidian mixed as XD’s body fell limp to the ground.

A rush of rage washed over Dream’s body, like he was being hit from a waterfall. Yet despite how suddenly the anger took him, he was surprised at how calmly his body responded. Instead of an outburst of rage like he expected from himself, he moved silently and quickly. One moment on the ground and the next he was leaping onto Dragon’s face, this time his sword stabbing right into her open and unsuspecting eye.

She roared with pain that Dream hoped hurt more than words could convey. He twisted the sword in to draw out another scream, then he was thrown off as she shook her head to dislodge him. She thankfully didn’t throw him far or as hard as she had with XD so Dream skidded to a stop with George already by his side.

He looked up to see George with his bow aimed and when Dragon turned her head to look at them with her good eye, he sent of a fire of three arrows right into them. Two hit and one bounced off a scale on her cheek, but now she was blinded and panickingly thrashing herself about to dislodge the weapons in her eyes.

George pulled Dream up then. Dream’s hands were shaking and he tried to hide it, but George could probably already feel it. He couldn’t bring himself to look at the tower, to see the unmoving form of XD lying there. Instead he focused on Dragon and her thrashing and when her flailing wings and tail were getting a little too close, he pulled George and they ran to the centre of the island.

There was a structure of bedrock in the centre of the island as XD said. It lay in a small dug out spot, only being spotted by the tall bedrock beam in the centre. The base was like the shape of a small fountain but it held no water. The bottom was completely bedrock. The only thing not was the torches around the top of the pillar.

“What now?” George panted.

Dream didn’t know. Dream didn’t want to say he didn’t know. He didn’t want to admit the one plan out of here lay with XD, who was still at the bottom of that obsidian tower. If he did he would have wailed and cried and he couldn’t afford to do that.

Dragon made a half roar half wheezing noise and Dream looked over to see her climbing up one of the obsidian towers with the crystal still there. It’s healing beam shot to her and their time to plan was becoming limited.

But Dream was lost. He didn’t know what to do. All he wanted to do was run to XD’s side and cry how sorry he was. How he should have listened. How he should never have pushed XD away. How he would never do it again. A thousand words he wanted to say and thought about saying so many times but the timing or his pride would never let him.

Dragon’s roars lost their pain and became angrier. She was healing and would be coming for them again. Dream saw George out the corner of his eye ready another arrow and Dream turned his head to him. He opened his mouth, ready to spill out everything he’d ever wanted to say to George when his shoulder was suddenly pulled.

He waited for the pain of Dragon’s fangs but there was no pain. It wasn’t teeth around him, but a hand. A large hand and Dream looked up to see XD stood above him. His right side was completely torn. His cloak was shredded and bloody. His mask had fallen off and XD hadn’t made the wraps on his face for his black voidless half face with many eyes were looking between Dream and George.

Dream wanted to weep but Dragon’s roar stopped him. She had perched on the tower before jumping off and swooping right for them.

“Get…through…” XD’s voice was warbled. His double voice was worst than ever, almost unintelligible but the words to understand were quite easy.

The centre of the bedrock structure was suddenly filled with a greenish void and many stars. It was the exact same pattern on XD’s mask. The same pattern as the portal that took them here.

George wasted no time and climbed down the dip to the portal. He grabbed Dream’s arm to pull him, but Dream didn’t move. “Come on!”

“Go…” XD’s voice hissed. Their jaw wasn’t right. It was partly broken, or shattered and it was trying to reset into a new shape.

Dream let himself be pulled down to the portal, but his eyes were on XD and he was screaming “Come with us!” But XD turned away.

The End God faced the End Dragon swooping down towards him, and as Dream screamed for his brother the world suddenly when black.

It was a whiplash motion of going through adrenaline and fear, mixed with the nauseating feeling of teleportation, for it all to suddenly end in a comfortable soft bed.

Dream panicked as soon as he felt the mattress under him and fell out of the bed. He hit the cold stone of the stronghold and looked around the room. He had been teleported back to the portal room. Back into the bed he slept in the night before, and George was struggling himself out of his own.

“G… George….”

“Dream!”

George was quickly beside him, pulling him up off the ground. His legs were wobbly and he almost fell, but George caught him and sat him on the bed.

“Stay calm. You need to control your breathing…”

“I…” Dream went to say he was breathing just fine, but then he realised that no, he really wasn’t. His chest was tight. His breaths were coming out in short hyperventilations and he couldn’t get in enough air.

“Slow your breathing Dream! You’ll pass out. Please…”

“I…” It felt impossible to breathe, then George’s hand touched onto his chest and it was like tasting air for the first time. His heart slowed and his lungs drew in the longest breath it could. “I-I left him!”

“You didn’t leave him, Dream.” George quickly reassured him. “There was nothing we could do. He saved us.”

“But where is he?!” Dream’s voice almost cried. He could feel his eyes well up with tears. “He’s not here!” George didn’t say anything to that, only putting more worry into Dream and he pushed himself to stand. “We have to go back in!”

“No! Absolutely not!” George stood up with him. “We’ll die!”

“XD will die if he’s in there!” Dream shouted, like it was the most obvious thing. To him it was. “We need to help him! We need to go back in! And we…”

A pop sound filled the air and DreamXD appeared. He was slumped over on the floor, bracing himself on his hands and knees, but he was there, with them.

“XD!” Dream and George both shouted, with a mixture of surprise and elation. Dream had never felt so happy than in that moment and then all of a sudden his happiness turned to dread.

XD pushed himself to stand on shaking legs. One of the arms on his right side wasn’t moving at all and lay limp by his side. He was coated in a mix of his own blood and the dragon’s, but all his attention was on Dream and George. His eyes were glowing with anger, flicking between the two of them before he raised a hand up to his face, waving and materialising his mask to cover him again.

“You!” He growled. “You fucking idiots!”

The two friends had just enough time to look at one another before they were grabbed. XD had both of their arms in his hands, gripped tight enough it was probably leaving a mark.

They were suddenly whisked off. The stronghold and the portal faded out from view and suddenly the three were back on the surface and outside. The air was sweetly familiar of flowers and mushrooms and without seeing Dream knew they were outside George’s cottage.

The hand around George’s arm let go, practically shoving George towards his home, but the hand around Dream’s didn’t.

“Wait…” Dream’s voice was small and George turned to look, realising it too.

His eyes went wide with worry and he looked up to the End God. “Wait XD! What…”

And that’s all they heard as XD whisked off him and his brother again. Dream dreaded he was going to suddenly see the lava wall again. He expected to feel heat and the three walls of obsidian would be encasing him again, but he wasn’t taken to the prison.

He was taken to somewhere completely opposite.

Instead of darkness, it was almost blindly bright. It seemed like a wide, never ending void of white nothingness, stretching on for miles. Dream looked around confused before the details suddenly came into view.

It wasn’t nothingness, it was a like a long, tall grand hallway. The whiteness of the pillars blended into the white void and stretched up too tall the tops of them couldn’t be seen. There were shadows of what looked like figures off in the distance, but Dream’s focus was physically pulled away as XD yanked him forward and the two began walking.

“Wha…Wait! XD!” Dream pulled at his arm, and tried to pull the hand off but XD’s grip was too tight and strong. His brother didn’t even look down at him, just facing forward to the white void ahead and almost dragging Dream along. “Wait! Wh-Where are we?! Where are you taking me?!”

“I’m taking you to someone who will watch you.” XD’s voice came out eerily calm, but Dream could hear the seething tone. “And then, I’m going to fix your mistake.”

#godsiblingau #covenofwords

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