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12timetraveler · 2 hours
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To Have and to Hold, Tenderly
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Based off @gondorimagines post about Boromir cradling you in his arms after a bad day. I took a creative turn with it. This is also my first Boromir fic I've written, so I hope it's good. (Not gonna lie, it was a f***ing struggle to alter my writing style to mirror that of Tolkien when I've only ever written cowboy stuff. Did I need to? Prolly not. But I'm an idiot who does things the hard way.)
Summary: You're a Lady of Dol Amroth and have been married to Boromir for a few years. You're postpartum from a long and painful delivery of your firstborn child while Boromir was gone to protect the borders of Gondor. When he returns, he offers you consolation during your difficult time.
Tags/Warnings: postpartum depression, fluff.
It has been a week.
A week and the pain still lingers. It has spread through your body and evolved from its physical form to infect your mind. The pain of labor had left you frail and weary, your once vibrant spirit now subdued by the weight of motherhood's trials. As you lie in your bedchamber, weighed down underneath the furs and silk sheets, you hear the argument between guilt and apathy loud in your thoughts.
The guilt shouts at you, ordering you to get up. It tells you to be stronger than this; that a Lady of Dol Amroth and wife of a high-ranking captain does not laze about in her bed. She never accepts defeat, but stands up and soldiers on. For her child. For her people.
Apathy however, whispers that you have already failed and you'll never be strong enough for yourself, your child, or your captain again. Your body is ruined. Boromir may not ever return to Minas Tirith. How will you find the strength again?
The silence in the room feeds your inner thoughts. The grand walls and high ceiling loom over you, making it feel less of a comforting place of rest and more of an entrapping cave of white stone. The heavy, blue velvet curtains draping your tall, arched windows shut out the warm sunlight.
You wish to hold her, your newborn babe. That's all you can care for, to feel her warmth against you so you can feel something. Alas, she remains with your nursemaid in another room at the request of the midwife. To give you rest, she told. She witnessed your pain and anguish firsthand, as she stayed with you during those prolonged hours of pushing, screaming, crying, and praying for it all to end. You were near hysterics, anxious that your baby was trapped inside you. You feared as if you had to split yourself in half to get her out.
The midwife recognized your melancholy which lingered after your daughter's birth. She said to you this feeling will pass in time, or was it she hoped it would?
As you drift in and out of an emotional slumber, a gentle knock echoes through the wooden door, followed by the sound of heavy footsteps crossing the threshold. You open your eyes to see the familiar dark, yet golden hair of Boromir, your stalwart husband. He enters your shared bedchamber, his countenance etched with lines of concern and weariness from the battles fought at Gondor's borders.
"My dear (Y/N)," he whispers, his voice a soothing balm to your troubled mind.
You can hardly contain the tears in your weary eyes at the sight of his towering figure. The sound of his voice sends a wave of relief. It washes over you, threatening to spill the emotions you've held so tightly in your heart.
"You've returned!" You sputter and look to him as he crosses the room with purpose, his arms outstretched to embrace you. With such tender care, he gathers you in his arms, his strong frame a shield against the woes outside your door.
"I have, as swiftly as my steed could carry me...I feared I had lost you," he murmurs, soft and low, pressing a kiss to your brow. "But here you are, safe as I hoped you both would be."
You nestled against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart beneath your ear. It's a comforting cadence amidst the chaos of your thoughts. The warmth of his cheek against your crown permeates your cold and weakened body and you breathe in his scent, detecting his musk that you've always found so alluring.
Lavender and cream from his shave, leather from his clothing, and the earth and air from his travels.
"How are you feeling?" He queries with a gentle hush, "I had heard it was...quite difficult."
Tears began flowing down your cheeks like a trickling stream after a spring rain. You mutter a sarcastic answer to mask the pain, albeit pathetically, "Difficult is how I would describe your temper. This was..." you pause to reconsider burdening him with your woes, "...something far beyond my imagination."
Boromir's warm hold around you tightens and he presses an apologetic kiss to your forehead. As the fire crackles softly in the hearth, he begins to weave a tale of excitement upon learning the news of your daughter's birth.
"When I received word that our child was a girl," he began, a fond smile gracing his lips, "my heart swelled with joy beyond measure. I thought, a blessing has been bestowed upon us by the Valar themselves, to cherish and protect for all the days of our lives."
Your heart sank.
"But what of your father? He did not appear pleased to discover her," You worry, remembering the controlling nature of the steward towards all things in his city. "Tradition demands a male heir."
Boromir replies, his expression turning solemn as he considers your question, "He may harbor...disappointment at first. He does cling to the ways of old, but he is a man of wisdom and honor." He pauses, a flicker of sadness crossing his features before resolve settled in his eyes. "I have faith that in time he will come to see the light and beauty that our daughter brings to our house, and he will welcome her into the fold with open arms, as a cherished member of our noble lineage."
He recounted how he had ridden with haste through the rolling hills of Gondor, his heart buoyed by the thought of returning to your side, to share in the wonder of new life.
"As I rode through the streets, I heard talk of you and our daughter." He smiles a breathless laugh at that final word, "They spoke with such gleeful joy, 'Finally, a girl is born in the Citadel!' It gave them hope, (Y/N). Countless people requested I send word of your good health to them. They love you, (Y/N). They are here for you just as I am. You are...you're their princess."
Suddenly, a drop of moisture splashes onto your hair. Bringing yourself up from beneath his chin, you look into his grey-blue eyes. They're brimming with tears and he makes no effort to slow his weeping, for he is so overjoyed he can no longer contain them.
"My journey was long and arduous," he continued, his voice a low rumble in the quiet chamber. "But fear not, my love, for I am here now. Together, we shall weather this storm."
And so, in the solace of each other's arms, you found a sanctuary from the trials of the world outside. For in the embrace of love, even the darkest night could be pierced by the light of hope, shining bright as the morning sun upon the walls of Gondor.
The soft creak of the doorknob echoes through the bedchamber, heralding the arrival of another into the sanctum of your solace. Both of your gazes, intertwined with longing and curiosity, turn to behold the newcomer being carried across the threshold.
"And now, here she is," says Boromir, his gaze softening as he looks upon the babe being welcomed into your arms. "When I look upon her, I see the promise of a future adorned with beauty and grace. A beacon of hope to light our path ahead."
As he spoke, you felt a warmth suffuse your weary frame, a renewed sense of purpose blooming within your heart. For in Boromir's words, you find strength to face the challenges that lay ahead, knowing that together, you would overcome every obstacle, guided by the light of love's enduring flame.
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12timetraveler · 3 hours
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Arthur gripped your hips, he suggested this position, not really suggested. He mostly had lifted you off him the second you had clenched around him, he took advantage of your orgasm to reposition you. His hand held your hips, keeping you up. He gave the curve of you ass an affectionate pat. "You're alright.." His voice was soft, the roughness of it soothing your nerves as your thighs trembled. "Arthur.. please." You weren't even sure if you wanted a break or more, the please seemed to go either way. "You okay?" He mumbled, that rough hand that was always gentle with you smoothed up your spine to the nape of your neck as he leaned over to kiss your shoulder. You panted as you nodded, soft hairs stuck to your forehead. "Want more?" It took you a second to process what he was asking and before you even processed what you were doing, there was a faint nod. He smiled against your skin, "Atta girl.." Arthur had never ending praise for you. For even the simplest of things. A good job for eating dinner or waking up in the morning. Any act of living earned praised, you were his world. His girl. His everything. During these tumultuous times, he found solace in the tiny hotel room he was able to steal you away in. He was able to pretend it was all different. Maybe you two had a home or at least the gang wasn't falling apart.. he snapped out of it as he leaned back, bringing your hips up again.
He eased into you, a breathless gasp followed by a higher pitch moan left your throat. He kept your back arched with one big hand pressed between your shoulders as his other gripped your hip. His blunt nails biting at your skin, leaving little crescents. He wasn't being particularly gentle but nonetheless paused to catch his breath. Your velvet walls were clenching around him, almost painfully tight and too hot. He let out a throaty groan, it came from up in his chest. Almost a breathless noise. Arthur threw his head back, his fingers drumming on your back lightly. He huffed, pulling his hips back, he could feel how you suctioned around him, so he didn't pull out completely. He didn't was to lose that. He snapped his hips, grinning at your breath hitching, nice and loud. You had abused your pussy riding him, until she was puffy and soaked. He offered occasional help, but he mostly thrusted upwards to surprise you when he felt you getting close. He liked watching you do all the work, so it was time to return the favor. Each time he pulled out and rolled his hips forward, they got faster and stronger. He leaned over you, slowly pressing his chest to your back. It was strong and warm, damp with sweat and his hair soft. His hand flew to the headboard, caging you between one arm next to your head and his firm bicep. Built like a piece of sinewy lumber, strong and unmoving, he had you trapped. The noises coming from your dripping cunt were filthy. How could you be soaked for him? A tough, gritty man. A killer. An outlaw. A bad, bad, bad-
"Arthur..!" The way you squeaked his name caught his attention, he could feel your walls around him, shit, your poor pussy never caught a break. He could feel you clenching and writhing and your nails dug into his thick wrist. But he didn't let up, even when you were pushed forward by the sheer force of his thrusts. "Don't- run from me." He gritted out, teeth clenched, his head pressed to the back of yours. His arm shifted, his forearm pressed to the front of your shoulder, keeping you from jolting forward. You were ruining the sheets, his thighs were sticky and slick with you, his dick coated in your cream, his hairs frothy. He wasn't even attempting to quiet himself now. "God.. damn it." Your legs gave out without his hand holding you up, you pressed flat on your stomach, feeling the sheets sticking to your wet skin, beads of sweat sliding down the column of your neck.
"Look'atchu.. You're a good girl.." His praises deep and guttural, he pressed you further into the mattress. Your moans had progressed into soft screams, your face half hidden in your pillow, hair messed. His hand that wasn't white knuckling the headboard slid between the mattress and you, finding your clit. Poor thing was twitching at just the slightest touch from him. "There ya go.. Takin' me and lookin' so pretty.." His lips pressed to the crown of your skull, your hair tickling his nose. With just a few soft circle from his finger, he ripped another orgasm out of you, you soaked his cock while he pounded you into the mattress. You were a sobbing mess, choking on your words. A mix of please, Arthur, I can't do it and don't stop, harder, deeper. He liked fucking the brains right out if your pretty head. Feeling your cunt drenched him and constrict around him so perfectly, like your pussy was made to take his thick cock and keeping it nice and tight and warm, seated so deep within you, made his stomach taught. His own legs trembled at the way his release hit him like a damn freight train.
"Fuck-" he had no words, nothing to describe how it felt, rutting his seed deeper in you with his dick twitching. He collapsed, mind empty, body numb, nearly crushing you and keeping the wind knocked from your lungs. Your hand patted his head. "Good job.. I can't breathe." Arthur's laugh was soft, his eyes closed. "Sorry, sweetheart."
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12timetraveler · 5 hours
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the fact there’s a very well known and well encountered red dead redemption 2 glitch for the mission the fine joys of tobacco that is literally sean being so stupid he runs through his own fire, kills himself and fails the mission over and over makes me laugh so hard.
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12timetraveler · 6 hours
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would die for a fresh hot corn on the cob rn
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12timetraveler · 6 hours
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The cowboy videogame consumed me here's a conversation from a group chat I'm in as red dead meme
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12timetraveler · 8 hours
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orc mating season has begun
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12timetraveler · 8 hours
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which is definitely not an omen
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12timetraveler · 10 hours
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I have a problem with a ten-year age difference.
But a ten-year age difference, now that I can get behind
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It's so over you guys
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12timetraveler · 10 hours
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Blue Ain’t Your Color | Arthur Morgan / Reader
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Word count : 3k Warnings/tags: Alcohol, consuming alcohol, bar setting, talk of manipulative exes, kissing, cursing, bachelor/bachelorette party, talk of infidelity, Modern!AU Summary : Loosely based on the song, Blue Ain't Your Color. After a rough breakup you force yourself to go to your best friend’s joint bachelor/bachelorette party. Knowing that a certain best man will be there.
As the hours ticked closer to 5pm, you wondered how rude it would be to flake out on your best friends' bachelorette party. It wasn’t like she’d be alone, after sharing a friend group for so long it was only natural to have a combined bachelor and bachelorette party. And for as long as John and Abigail were together your little group felt more like family than friends.
Your phone buzzed next to you, a telltale sign of a text. Most likely from your asshole ex.
Fuck it. You picked it up, turning it towards your face. Abigail’s name popped up instead of his as a welcomed surprise.
‘You have about thirty more minutes to sulk before you better get your ass down here.’ You snorted at her message, rolling your eyes.
‘I was not sulking🙄’ You texted back, caught red handed by her unreasonable psychic senses.
‘I know you.’ She messaged, before the three little dots pop up again. ‘He wasn’t even hot, you were doing charity work.’ You laughed shaking your head, the first real smile gracing your face for the first time in two weeks.
‘True.’ You text back, sighing as you pull yourself off of your couch. ‘I’ll see you in 20😘’
It’s just one night, one night where you end your pity party. Abigail’s right, he wasn’t even that hot, and an awful kisser to boot. You needed to put your feelings aside and be there for your best friend.
You knew you’d had fun, all your girls would be there, and there would be karaoke. You knew you’d be heartbroken if you missed Sean and Lenny’s rendition of Don’t go breaking my heart. You applied your makeup, making sure to look killer in all the photos that would inevitably end up on social media. It was the best revenge for him sleeping with his girl ‘best friend’, to show him what he’s missing. And if you happened to look good for another certain man, well that was just a bonus.
Throwing on your best little black dress, you admired how it hugged your curves. Checking your makeup and hair one more time before heading out the door for your Uber.
It wasn’t long until you pulled up at the Horseshoe Overlook, the place to be on a Friday night. You could see Javier in front of the entrance, a cigarette dangling from his lips.
“Ay! There she is!” He exclaimed as you stepped out of your Uber, grinning as he walked over to you pulling you into a hug.
“Hey Javi.” You chuckled, “Everyone else inside?” You asked as he pulled away, sparks falling to the ground as he tapped his cigarette.
“You know it.” He grinned, motioning inside with a tilt of his head. You took a deep breath before pushing open the doors, the smell of alcohol and fried food filling your nostrils. It didn’t take you long to find the rambunctious group of assholes you called your best friends.
You could already see Sadie on Charles shoulders, waving at you with a huge grin on her face. Abigail immediately threw her arms around you.
“You done sulking?” she laughed, pressing a shot into your hand. You threw it back, a shiver running through you as the alcohol ran down your throat.
“I’m working on it.” You chuckled, shaking your head. “It’s kind of hard to be sad around y'all." You smiled, looking around at your friends. Your eyes seemed to find- well not find- the man you had hoped to see tonight. The best man.
“Arthur’s not here yet if you’re wondering.” Abigail whispered, a mischievous glint in her bright blue eyes.
“I wasn’t looking for him.” You said, rolling your eyes, lying through your teeth.
“Well in case you were wondering,” She started, her hand wrapping around your waist as she pulled you close. “He’s single.” You furrowed your brows, your head snapping to look at her. Ever since you could remember Arthur had been stuck on this one girl, Mary. They had the absolute worst on and off again relationship you’d ever seen. Honestly it was painful to watch at points, and let’s just say she didn’t get along with most of the group.
“I’m not looking to be a rebound, thank you very much.” You said, trying to stay as nonchalant as possible. Of course, Abigail saw straight through your facade, but she didn’t push it.
“Alright honey, whatever you say.” She cooed, fixing her ‘bride’ sash before going off to find John. The bright neon blue lights illuminating the low lit bar. You snuck away from the festivities, making your way to the bar and setting yourself on an open stool. Flagging down one of the bartenders for a drink. Maybe you’d drown your sorrows a bit before getting back to the party. Your phone buzzed in your pocket. Not thinking twice about it, you pulled it out checking the notification. Your smile fell off your face as you read the latest test from your ex. Who was apparently working on the new record of how many times someone could say they’ve ‘changed’ in a day.
You groaned, laying your phone face down on the bar top. Thankful for the vodka cran placed in front of you. Even though it was cheaper to drink away your sorrows at home, it never tasted quite as good. You slowly sipped your drink, watching the white cubes slowly get more transparent in the red liquid.
“You gonna drink it or just watch the ice melt?” A deep rumbling voice asked, as no one other than human sunshine Arthur Morgan pulled up next to you. The man who had been strictly off limits for years now dangled in front of you on a hook. His hands were stained as he laid them on the bar top, no doubt from the various vehicles he’d worked on all day.
“Still debating.” You sighed, offering him a small smile.
“Rough day?” He asked, his flannel rolled up to his elbows, showing off his tanned forearms.
“More like week.” You said with a weak chuckle, your cheeks already heating up with the hunk of a man next to you. How Arthur and John were brothers you had no idea. They were near opposites of each other. Let’s just say, you and Abigail never had to worry about fighting over boys. Arthur slipped off his cap, pushing his honey blond locks back with his calloused hand before setting his hat back on his head. His bright azure eyes scanned the bar even though you knew he would buy the same drink as always.
“Yeah,” He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, “Yeah I get that.” He said, calling the bartender over with a raise of his finger.
You sipped your drink, squeezing the lime before placing it back on the rim. Cooling the rising heat in your cheeks as Arthur moved closer to you. A deep rumbling laugh left his lips as you turned to see what was causing him so much joy. You saw Sean hoist Lenny onto his shoulders, nearly falling over with the weight of him. If they weren’t careful they’d get kicked out again.
He turned his rosy cheeked face towards you, eyeing you with a questioning look. “So,” He said, raising his bourbon to his lips, “Where’s what’s his face?”
You chuckled dryly, shaking your head. “Probably chasing after anything with a pair of tits.” You huffed, rolling your eyes, taking a long sip of your drink.
“That’s a shame.” He whistled, although from the tone in his voice you can tell it’s anything but a shame. You shrug, looking back towards the rest of the group.
“Not really, none of you guys liked him much anyway.” You said twirling your straw around in your drink, a deep frown etched on your face.
“Yeah, but you liked him.” He said, nudging your shoulder, offering you a sad smile. If anyone knew how you felt it would be Arthur. Mary wasn’t exactly popular with your group of friends either.
As much as you hated to admit it, you did like him. Maybe that’s the problem, no matter how much everyone said he didn’t deserve you, he still broke your heart.
“I know it ain’t my place,” He starts, holding up his hand, “But blue ain’t your color.” He said, wetting his lips before bringing his glass up. The corner of your mouth tugged upwards, as you looked at him from the corner of your eye. “There she is.” He said with a smile.
If it was anyone else talking to you this way, you’d think they were flirting with you. Maybe you were just hoping that the same could be said for Arthur. But you knew it wasn’t likely, Arthur wasn’t the type of guy to pick up some random girl from a bar and take her home. Maybe in his younger years, when Mary and him had called it quits for the umpteenth time, but not now. Then again, you weren’t some random girl.
“That was incredibly cheesy.” You chuckle, rolling your eyes, a smile growing on your lips.
Being around Arthur was like having your own personal bit of sunlight, he exuded warmth, brightening up any room. You on the other hand could practically hear the thunder rolling from the clouds that hung over your head. Why he had decided to sit with you, you didn’t know. Other than the fact that he was just a good guy.
“So, I heard about you and Mary.” You said, clearing your throat, looking up at him. He grimaced, rubbing the back of his neck, a shadow passing across his face.
“You and the whole town.” He sighed, bringing his glass to his lips, sucking in a breath as it ran down his throat. You nodded, taking another sip of your drink.
“It won’t be long until y'all are back together anyway.” You said, twirling your straw around in your drink, biting your lip as you looked down.
“No.” He said, shaking his head, "She's- well she’s moved on, think I should too.” He nodded, a light blush coloring his cheeks.
“And here everyone thought you were gonna get married next.” You said nudging his elbow, trying to hide your jealous tone.
“Me?” He asked, his head snapping to look at you, a bewildered look on his face. “No way, not to her at least.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “Her and I, well we didn’t agree on most things. A marriage between us would have been doomed from the start. But uh, we probably shouldn’t be talking about doomed marriages, bad luck and all.” He said with a toothy grin.
“Didn’t know you were superstitious.” You smiled.
“Well it’s not every day your little brother finds someone stupid enough to marry him.” He teased, although you could hear a hint of truth in his tone.
“Well Abigail is pretty taken by him.” You chuckled, looking over at the two of them.
“Yeah, they’re good for each other. She keeps him in line.” He nodded, finishing his drink before setting it down on the bar top.
“Happy to pass your job off?” You asked with a smirk.
“John hasn’t listened to me in years.” He laughed, rolling his eyes. “Other than Abigail, Dutch is the only person he listens to.” You smiled, watching the rest of your friends pair off and hit the dance floor. Your heart slowly sunk into your stomach.
“Hey.” He said, giving you a lopsided smile, “Could this old fool have a dance?” He asked, holding out his hand for you to take.
“You ain’t that old.” You laughed taking his hand, butterflies erupting in your stomach. His calloused hand was surprisingly warm and gentle as he held yours. He pulled you off of your stool, leading you onto the dance floor.
“Atta girl Y/n!” Karen called from the sideline, holding up a very intoxicated Sean. You were thankful for the low lights, knowing you were red as a tomato. Your cheeks burning as Arthur turned to face you.
“Hey,” His finger lifted your chin, “eyes on me, alright?” He grinned, you wondered if you had imagined the slight waver in his voice. You nodded, swallowing thickly as another song started to play. One his hands holding your hip while the other clasped your own. You looked over at the other couples, your foot landing on top of Arthur’s boot.
“Sorry!” You whispered, wincing. He chuckled, shaking his head.
“That was nothin’.” He grinned, twirling you in a gentle circle.
“I’m not the best dancer.” You admitted, chucking weakly as you looked down at your feet.
“Oh c’mon now,” He said pulling you closer, his hand on the small of your back, “You’re not so bad.” He spun you around on the wooden dance floor, his eyes sparkling under the disco ball. “You just gotta let me lead.”
It was getting harder with every passing moment to fight your feelings from bubbling over. He was so handsome, the sweetest guy in the whole world. More importantly he was your friend, not just because he wanted to get in your pants, but because he cared. It didn’t hurt that he was a fantastic dancer, too.
“Used to see you out dancin’ every weekend with the girls.” He said softly. That had been right before you got together with your ex. He didn’t like dancing and he didn’t want you going out if he couldn’t go with you. It was controlling in hindsight, but at the time you had on your rose colored glasses.
“Guess I’m not as good as I used to be.” You chuckled, a nervous grin tugging at your lips.
“That’s alright, darlin’.” He said softly, his hand moving to between your shoulder blades as he dipped you. You held onto his shoulder, his hand sliding down your thigh. Your breath caught in your throat. “You just need to practice.” He whispered before pulling you back onto your feet. Your breaths mingled, your chest brushing against his with every inhale.
His eyes moved from yours to your lips. His words ringing out in your head. Think I should move on too. He leaned down, his nose brushing against yours as he captured your lips. Before you know what you’re doing you’re pushing him off. Running across the dance floor and out into the parking lot, like the clock had struck midnight. Your chest rose and fell rapidly as you held onto your forearms. The cool night air biting your nose and cheeks.
You wouldn’t be a rebound. You couldn’t do that. You wouldn’t when you’ve been in love with Arthur for a lot longer than you’d like to admit.
“Y/n!” He calls from the entrance, striding over to you. His eyes almost frantic and his mouth set in a thin line. “I’m sorry, alright?”
“It’s fine Arthur.” You said shaking your head, looking down.
“No, no it’s not you just- you just got out of a relationship and-“ He lets out a frustrated groan as he runs his hand through his hair. His other hand crushing his hat in his fist. “I was outta line.” He said, his gaze falling to the ground as he hung his head.
“I just- I can’t be a rebound Arthur.” You said, shaking your head as you looked up at him.
“A what?” He asked, his brows furrowed as he met your gaze. “Is that what you think this is?” He scoffed, looking down.
“If that’s not what this is then what is it?” You asked, your brows furrowing as you crossed your arms. He sighed, meeting your eyes. He looked wrecked, his chest heaving as he chewed his lower lip.
“I-“ he sighed, putting his hat back on. “I like you y/n, a lot.” He confessed, his hands resting on his hips. “More than I should.” He said mostly to himself as he shook his head.
“But Mary-“
“Mary and I have been done for months.” He said cutting you off. “We were both stringing each other along even though we didn’t love each other.” He sighed, running a hand down his face. “We both… well we both had feelings for other people.” He admits, his eyes holding a sort of desperation. Like he was silently pleading you to believe him. Your heart was pounding in your chest. “When I heard you were single I didn’t want to miss my chance.” He sighed.
Your mouth hung open like a dead fish, not the most attractive thing after someone just confessed they had feelings for you. “I-“
“Don’t feel like you gotta say nothin’.” He said, holding his hand up. “I understand if you don’t feel the same way.” He said, pursing his lips. You shook your head, rushing over to him and slamming your lips against his. Your hands wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him closer. His hands immediately found your waist, holding you against the hard line of his body.
“Why didn’t you say something sooner?” You asked breathlessly, a grin spreading across your face. He blinked, the gears slowly turning in his head.
“Why didn’t you?” He asked with an equally breathless chuckle, his thumbs rubbing against your hips. You shook your head, grinning as you rested your forehead against his.
“Didn’t think you liked me like that.” You admitted, your cheeks flushed, the cold chill nipping your nose.
“I’d be a fool not to.” He laughed, cupping your cheek. He brought your chin up, pressing his lips against yours in a sweet embrace. Your toes nearly curling in your shoes. “Although, you do need some more practice with your dancin’.” He teased, “Maybe I could take you out sometime?”
“I’d like that.” You nodded, pressing your lips against his again. Arthur’s lips were more intoxicating than anything you could have ordered inside.
“You know we’re never gonna hear the end of it when we walk back in there.” You chuckled looking up at him.
“They’re probably too drunk to notice,” He mused, “besides, I want everyone to know that smile on your lips is cause of me.” He said throwing his arm around your shoulder, pulling you close as he kissed your head.
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12timetraveler · 11 hours
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Oysters
Poor stupid horny Sean.
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12timetraveler · 1 day
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no matter the struggles there is always ao3 in bed
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12timetraveler · 1 day
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every day i think abt how anthony loved kate so much and so completely that it drove him to rage. like his stupid lil man brain couldn’t comprehend how much he cared for her and the only emotion he’d felt this strongly since his father’s death was anger, so he just. got hella mad whenever he was around her bc his brain was like that’s the only type of intensity i know. look at the way he stares at her like he’s gonna smash his head through a wall if she doesn’t look back
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that’s a fucking madman. he’s literally madly in love
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12timetraveler · 1 day
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I crave the old men
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12timetraveler · 1 day
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12timetraveler · 1 day
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Sometimes it seems to me that there is real life there.
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12timetraveler · 1 day
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Via mini_capybaras
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The Curse Of Knowledge
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