#` ✦ ⋮ saved ⋮ takes one to know one; you beat me at my own game.

[mondaysoct]

fucked up.

Simon Riley x Fem!Reader

—content warning: argue, he almost hurt himself (?) | jealous!simon

—word count: 2.8k

“My boss offered me a ride, so I...”

A frown marred his lips. Not a deep frown, but a small one. His jaw was set firmly, his frown indicating deep disapproval. He tilted his head and crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes.

You were stupid for not telling him where you were or that you were heading out. For accepting a ride from another man. For not remembering to call him.

Other men will inevitably show interest towards you. They will find you beautiful because you truly are, that is something he can’t get angry about, he knows you’re not that reckless. He sure you know what kind of men are out there for a girl like you. However, you should always reject their advances in any way and tell him about it.

“Hmm…” he mumbled, his eyes still on you. He paused, processing what you had just said. His arms released you, dropping to his side but his gaze never faltered. “Couldn’t you have called me before accepting his offer?” He spoke softly, yet there was something in his voice that was telling you to take him seriously.

“I-I forgot.” You stuttered, looked away sheepishly.

“Forgetting to tell me you’re going out with another man…” a cold hint of jealousy seeped into his voice, causing Simon’s lips to curl up in a thin line. There was a moment of deadly silence as you felt the tension surrounding the two of you, almost cutting the air like a knife. “You know that’s not a good thing to do, is it dear?”

“Yes, I shouldn’t let him drove me home.”

He finds that hard to believe. No self-respecting woman would willingly get into a car with other man at midnight. Unless she wanted to cheat on her partner.

You know your boss is single and you always get into these kinds of situations and then it's not the first time you forgot to tell him you're going out with another man.

He told you a million times not to accept rides from random men, didn’t he?

His eyes slowly raked up and down your body, taking in your damp towel, your disheveled hair, your hands were clammy, your slightly reddened cheeks, and lowered to your lips.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered.

He had to admit that he was still pissed with your decision, but at the same time seeing you like this was doing something to him.

He didn't respond at first, instead, he reached up towards your wet hair and began to run his fingers through them and rose to the side of your face, grazing and stroking the side of your jaw with his thumb.

The lack of verbal communication was almost deafening and yet he felt a strange sense of calm wash over, knowing you were in his clutches. The silence was broken when he spoke again.

“I wonder if you really forgot or secretly you wanted this to happen,” he whispered in a low, soft voice as his free hand slowly moved your hair aside and pressed it against your neck.

“What? N-no, of course no.” You are quite speechless.

Your eyes shifted away from his, trying to save yourself from his anger. Your heart beating pretty fast like someone who feels bad over something they’ve done.

He could tell that you were now struggling to form words. Your nervous fidgeting made him want to push you even more.

A small smile formed on his lips, noticing that you failed to make eye contact with him. He was convinced that you were lying. Your body betray you so easily.

“Are you sure?”

He should’ve believed that you weren’t cheating on him, but his gut instincts were screaming at him to doubt.

He sighed, taking in every word that you’d just said so he could convince his mind to calm the fuck down.

He was content with this display of submissiveness, and he knew how to read you even better. A simple glance from his cold and steely gaze was enough to make you tremble in terror.

He stared at you intently, taking in every detail from your parted lips to the faint blush across your cheeks. He didn’t dare to lean in any closer, wanting to make you sweat first.

The smell of aftershave radiating from his proximity was starting to mix in with the scent of your recent shower, your breath, smell the sweet, perfume fragrance that came from you, and he enjoyed it, causing him to take a deep intake of breath.

He lifted your chin up gradually until you were forced to peer into his intense and smoldering gaze.

He didn’t say anything, knowing that your silence would be louder than any words he can say.

Simon held your gaze for several moments longer before finally he took a step back from you and turned away, walking towards the bathroom mirror.

He stared back at you through the mirror, crossing his arms, he studied you intently again. He wondered whether you were really telling the truth or not and something told him that you aren’t.

He could imagine how easily a woman like you could easily get attention from the opposite sex and it made him even more suspicious that you weren’t telling the whole truth.

He wanted to believe what you had said was the truth but for some reason, he couldn’t. He couldn’t shake away what his gut instinct told him which was the opposite of what you had told him.

His grip on the countertop tightened and he gritted his teeth as he muttered under his breath, “Damn it…”

A lot of things went through Simon’s head right now and he tried to stop himself from letting his rage control him.

He knew you were probably telling the truth but that jealous side of him was refusing to listen to the rational part of his head. His mind continued to try and convince him that maybe you’d been cheating on him behind his back when he was out doing his mission.

He couldn’t believe what his mind was telling him, and he hated it.

He still wasn’t fully convinced but he realized he had no right to be jealous and he needed to trust you if this relationship was going to work.

He sighed, shaking his head in disappointment. Simon couldn’t believe he was doing this again.

The sight of you in his peripheral vision, your wet hair clinging to your face and your lips which were parted slightly made him so hot and bothered. It took every ounce of self-control for him to not just sweep you into his strong arms and claim your mouth with his as he’d always done.

He looked away, let out a tense breath of relief and rubbed his forehead with the palm of his hand, a bit frustrated at himself for overreacting, wondering how he ended up acting like this again, treating you like this again.

This wasn’t the first time he had done this, and he hated himself for it. Simon thought he was getting better; that he could trust you and not let jealous and possessiveness get the best of him, but he failed.

His hands balled into fists as he grumbled and slammed his fist repeatedly against bathroom cabinet, his temper bubbling up. He hated that it had to go this far again, and he was the reason for all of this.

He felt rage bubbling up yet again inside of him and he hated himself for losing control again. He could feel his jaw clenched shut as he continued to stare across the mirror with an angry expression.

He gripped the cabinet handle tightly, his fist turning white and knuckles red, trembling from the pressure of gripping it so tightly. He wasn’t mad at you. He was mad at himself for letting his emotions get the best of him again.

You stare at him with concern on your face, your guilty growing even more seeing him acting like this. “Simon, please stop hurting yourself.” You spoke.

He realized you were almost at the verge of tears. He had never heard that much vulnerability in your voice in years.

Hearing your quiet voice somehow soothed him. He slowly loosened his grip against the cabinet handle, the trembling finally stopping as he released the grip, opening the palm of his hand and revealing red marks along his hand.

He was still facing the mirror, but his body tensed again when you stepped closer until he felt your hands on his arms. Simon stopped breathing for a moment, his heart rate racing as he felt your hands moving up and down against his arm from shoulder to wrist.

He is leaning against the bathroom counter as he finally broke the eye contact with the mirror and finally looked at you.

His eyes studied you as he looked into your eyes, staring intently at everything from your lips to your chin, your eyes to even your small nose which he thought was adorable and something that he wanted all to himself.

He raised his eyes to your forehead and then let his vision trail down the length of your petite body until you finally reached your feet, he looked at your toes and noticed that your nails were polished, a light shade of pink.

His vision then focused on your exposed neck as his eyes ran up and down the length of your pale skin before eventually it focused on your lips once more. Simon stared at your lips for a while.

Simon took in everything you were doing to him, every action, every single body language, and the effect of your touch made his body twitch and tighten in ways you had no idea about.

He couldn’t believe he was so sensitive. He was usually so tough, never flinching or reacting but now, the smallest touch of your fingers on his arm caused him to flinch a little as if he was a little kid who can’t even handle the smallest bit of touch.

He leaned in towards you close enough for breathed in deeply to feel your scent, taking in every essence of you that he craved for so long.

It's a nostalgic scent of some kind.

To him you smell like... Flowers... Like... Lily's... smell like freshly picked lilies, and a bit like the forest after it rained.

A moment of silence stretched out between the both of you as both of you just stared at each other for a while.

He didn’t know what made him react the way he did, but he immediately stepped back, staring at you as you were about to break down into tears.

He cleared his throat and looked away momentarily until he spoke. “Go.”

You understand that he didn't intend to come across as rude, but he simply needed some time to himself.

You quickly making your way out of the bathroom.

He sighed, feeling like the world’s biggest dickhead because of the way he had treated you.

All he wanted to do was to comfort you and hold you but his rage and jealously made it hard, he couldn’t help but feel like if he got close to you, his anger would only grow again.

He knew this would just cause an endless cycle of him being angry and you feeling guilty because of it. And he couldn’t stop it. He couldn’t figure out a solution, he was constantly filled with this unbridled and unreasonable anger whenever you talked to other guys, even if it meant nothing.

He could hear you make your way upstairs and he knew you were heading to the guest bedroom, where you would most likely cry.

He turned around to face the mirror once more, wondering if he’s going too far, but his gut told him that you might need a bit of an authority figure to tell you what to do and put you back onto the right track.

He stood in front of the sink mirror, watching his reflection and he undressed himself before stepped into the shower. He closed the sliding door after himself and turned on the shower, the warm water beating down on him, splashing against his skin and hair.

The steam slowly rose from the shower floor as he relaxed, his back to the spray, he felt comfortable, relaxed, and warm. With eyes closed, he placed both hands against the wall.

His hand slid down his chest, running alongside his taut and muscular torso, making him shiver with anticipation of what was to come.

The hot water beating down on him had a soothing effect, helping him to relax and ease some of the tension off his shoulders. But the images of you and your male boss in the car, and your reluctance to tell him about the car ride, remained in his mind, replaying over and over again.

He could never understand why you drove him crazy even after all these years, and he would never understand why it bothered him so much whenever you talk to other guys.

The thought of some other man taking you out, driving you home, putting a hand on your thigh or arm.

Simon had to remind himself that you weren’t his property and that you were an independent woman who could make her own decisions and mistakes.

He wanting to control your every move and who you talked to. This was not healthy relationship, and he knew it, but he couldn’t help it, he couldn’t stand the thought of a man wanting to do things with you. He wanted you to stay all to himself.

He tried to calm himself down by taking deep breaths as he tried to think logically. He was acting irrational and he refused to believe that you would cheat on him or hide things from him. He had to trust you, to trust the woman he loved.

He was being ridiculous, and he knew it. The fact that his body reacted this way made everything even worse, the surge, and the heat that made his breath come short and fast.

"Idiot.” He sighed, muttered to himself.

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

In another room you just lay on the bed. You were faced down with your face buried inside the pillow to muffle your occasional sob.

You want to convince him that was just a ride, nothing more, nothing special to you. Just normally how co-worker supposed to do, help each other, no mutual feeling. You wish he could understand and didn't take this seriously, because he were the only your boyfriend, there's no shit things behind you.

Simon had been acting this way ever since the two of you began dating. You were aware of how possessive and jealous he could get and you never understood why. Maybe it was because he was afraid that another man might snatch you away from him.

Maybe he was just protecting you from any harm. Or maybe he was just being a controlling jerk that couldn’t let go of you and couldn’t help but get annoyed at the thought of other people staring at you. Either way, it was driving you nuts.

The first time he had acted this way towards you was when he had overheard you talking to your friend on the phone. He had overheard you casually mentioning a new coworker that had joined your company.

Apparently, the mere thought of another man being in the same room as you set him off, his emotions escalating to an extreme with just a mention of another man.

The second time he had reacted like this was when he had seen you talking to one of the male waiters at a restaurant where the two of you had gone on a date.

Whenever those incidents had happened, you would always feel a wave of guilt and remorse wash over you. It made you feel like you had done something wrong for simply making small talk with another man.

But you know that’s absurd. You have not done anything remotely wrong by just having a civil conversation with someone.

But still, it made you feel a bit guilty.

You always felt like you were walking on eggshells around Simon, like one wrong step could trigger his jealousy and anger.

You never knew when he was going to fly off the handle, so you had to be extra careful whenever interacting with other men. You had to watch what you said, what you wore, and how you acted.

This is why his demeanor was such a big issue for you. It made life with him unpredictable and exhausting.

You hated it. The fact that every time an argument or disagreement came up, he'd just leave or push you away and you'd have to wait for him to come back and try to fix things. It was exhausting and you hated it.

Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated

Thanks for reading ♡

dividers

#ℳ—writes #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #cod x reader #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty #writing #ghost x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you

[walpu]

walp walp hear me out

remember that trailblazer scene with firefly and how she just just gets stabby stabbed by the creature (memory zone meme i think)

and + Aventurine having access to the 'real' dreamscape, combine that with bodyguard! reader who will go through hell and back to make sure Aventurine will. Live.

reader follows aven during the entirety of the Penacony quest, including when Black Swan teleports the both of them to the real memory zone. (also, does anyone else feel like bodyguard! reader and Trailblazer would be besties... no, just me?)

now, keep in mind, Aven and reader have a... complicated bond. IPC workers here and there say their dating, the Trailblazer has straightup asked if they would just get a room (you get their vibe, you can go along with the secret assassin! bodyguard! reader req i sent in)

a little bit more insight on their dynamic (again, going with the assassin reader thing, its already known between the two atp, so this can be set after that period), Aven wants to love reader, wants to hold them close, and wants their affection, but dammit, he just cant bring himself to. Not when he's sure he'll just hurt everyone that comes close to him (his sister, cough cough)

and reader has the same mindset, they love Aven, as a boss, as that annoying but endearing friend, and perhaps as more. But they have blood, the lives of people that they've unlawfully taken, not to mention, they are 100% sure Aven would never love a person who killed just for monetary income.

now, here's where the real show starts. There's also another assassin (seriously, Duke Inferno should save his manpower) following reader and Aven. Safe to say, only one is making it out alive. How the assassin followed the two of them? No fucking clue, but somehow it does.

After i assume beating the living shit out of hordes of memory zone monsters, the assassin appears, and just when Aventurine's unsuspecting?? Boom, goes in for the kill.

Yeah, too bad. Aven's not dying. But reader is! Yeah, in a act of (cliche) protection, reader allowed themselves to be the one to suffer from the attack. (Bonus if they get decapitated, or just stabbed like how Trailblazer was by Cocolia). Aven will never forget the way that he just- watched reader's body fall, the light just gone from their eyes.

Anyways, he doesn't even get to hold their body. You just- poof into bubbles like Firefly did. The last thing he has left of his beloved bodyguard? Just a simple red earring, matching the one he wore. Nothing left.

Okay, im also going to cope here that the whole shitshow with Aven and Acheron did not happen, he returns to the room that reader had, and he just... stands there. He takes in the way that half of the room was messy, half of it was untouched. So much like them, unpredictable and just had a touch of the weirdness he loved so damn much.

(Bonus if you want a happy scenario, reader's alive and well, afterall, dying in the dreamscape doesn't kill anyone. Reader is probably smiling very awkwardly while they stare at a teary eyed Aventurine, then they make out /hj)

yay another rant, i had this idea for days, the decapitation part may or may not have been plaguing me (should i be concerned), anyways, thanks for listening to my word vomit, stay safe and stay healthy <33

feel like falling on my knees and begging to forgive me for taking so long this spring doesn't let me breath istg. I've got this request before 2.1 and only got to it now that's why Aven is ghosting me.

bodyguard!reader "dying" in the dreamscape to protect Aventurine

sort of a sequel to this but can be read as a separate work as well, the main thing you need to know is that reader was originally an assassin sent by Duke Inferno but they've changed their mind and stayed by Aven's side

notes - gn!reader, angst, unestablished relationship, no beta

You both knew the trip to Penacony would be difficult. You, in particular, knew that something big and very sinister is coming, judging by the way Aventurine danced around the subject, not giving you full information.

You may not know all the details of Aventurine's plan but you know him well enough to realize that he's planning on doing something extremely reckless and dangerous.

So you do your best to protect him. To shiels him from any possible danger, to keep him within your reach.

Of course Aventirune notices. How can he not notice when he already keeps his eye on you most of the time anyway. And just as you're trying to look out for him, he wants to looks out for you.

This mission already could be considered suicidal and he doesn't want you to be caught in this. Better to keep you in the dark, away from it.

Yet he can't help but selfishly enjoy your attention, your tenderness. You go out of your ways to make sure he's fine and he feels so undeserving of it. How can you be so kind when he's keeping so much from you?

You've seen him at his worst and you've stayed. You've proven so many times that you care for him not because it's just your job, not because of his money or status but because it's him.

He still struggles to believe in it sometimes. When he feels doubtful , he rubs his cheek against your shoulder in a playful cat-like manner and watches your reaction. Amusement you're trying to hide. Adoration you can't hide.

How can he doubt you? You're the one who should be doubting him.

He wants to melt into you, to be even closer than the two of you already are, but how can he love you without putting you in danger? Without draining your luck, without cursing you?

Sometimes he sees the same struggles in your eyes. When you carefully trace his face with the tips of your gloved fingers, your gaze sometimes lowers and you pull your hand away, as if you're ashamed.

But of what, of what? The blood on your hands? He has it too!

He wants to tell you this, to hold you tight, to never ever let go. The wish is so primal that everyone else can see. The memokeeper giving him a knowing smile as soon as she sees you two together, the masked fool taunting him about the only one willing to listen to him being his loyal dog ("though, judging by the way you look at them, little peacock, you're the one on the leash here~" she says. It feels like even a lower blow than the comments about his past. At least he expected those, but being taunted about his obvious feelings for is new), mx. Stellaron asking you two to get a room with a deadpun expression.

The worst one is the doctor though. Asking Aventurine to focus on the mission, then, in a softer tone, suggesting to tell you more about the plan. "It's foolish to keep it from your most trusted person, gambler. In the end, it may hurt them even more than your obsessive concerns".

If Ratio of all people gives you relationship advice you're doing soooo bad.

Yet Aventurine can't bring himself to listen to his words. He wants you safe and well, and he's sure (he's not sure) he's doing the right thing.

And yet he's wrong. He can't shield you, he can't. One of the richest people in the IPC, one of the Ten Stonehearts, the blessed one, yet he can't protect the one he loves no matter how much he tries. He's cursed, doomed, isn't he?

Damned Duke Inferno. He's dead, annihilated, and yet, somehow, one of his wretched dogs, his sneaky little assassin, finds you two in the depths of the memory zone. Such dedication to the cause!

There are two gunshots. Inferno's little rat and you strike at the same time. Them, aiming at Aventurine, and you, aiming at them. Only one bullet reaches it's target though.

It all happens so fast. You react immediately, covering Aventurine with your body. You move instinctively at the same second you shoot.

When their bullet hits you, you don't even feel it. Maybe because it's still a dreamland? The pain just won't come even though your back feels like it's on fire. You don't understand it yet but your body already starts disappearing.

All you can focus on is Aventurine's wide shocked eyes. His beautiful, beautiful eyes.

You smile weakly at him. That's all he can see before you're gone. He doesn't even have time to reach out to you, to hold you. As if he ever had the privilege of holding his loved ones in their final moments.

You just poof into the blue bubbles.

He rushes into the real world, in your room, praying to any deity that may here for you to be alive and well. It was a dream, not a real world. You can't die in a dream, not really. You weren't even killed by the memory zone meme, surely you're fine!

Yet you're not. You're not here, not anywhere in the hotel. You're truly gone.

He feels everything and nothing at the same time.

Of course, of course, of course he wasn't able to protect you!

How lucky he is, he has avoided death once again! His beloved died to protect him but he has survived! He's so blessed, truly, so blessed!

He finds himself on his knees, on the verge of hysterical laughter. The only thing you left behind is a small red earring he has gifted. And he clatches it so tightly his hand bleeds. Perhaps the pain is the only thing keeping him sane at this moment.

It feels like a cruel joke. It doesn't feel real, it shouldn't be real.

Wait... That's it! It isn't real. It's impossible to die in a dream! It was his theory all along, after all. It must be true. You just can't be dead, you can't, not you too.

His plan hasn't changed, he tells Ratio when he comes to check on Aventurine. He just needs to reach the real Penacony. To reach it and to find you there. You're strong and brave and so wonderful. You're out there somewhere, he just needs to help you to get back to the real world.

He holds into that idea like a madman. It doesn't matter how dangerous it is. It never did, to be honest. But now it's like he can't focus on anything else.

He hasn't feel so despaired in years. He just needs to find you, everything else is meaningless.

So when it's time for the final act, he gets on stage, fears not and doesn't look back.

He still holds his hand behind his back though. Clutching your earrings for dear life.

#i forgot if the bodies of those who died in the memory zone disappear #if not let's pretend the hounds took it for investigation #hsr #aventurine #reader insert #aventurine x reader #honkai star rail #hsr aventurine #walp's writing #no beta we die like sunday

[gotham-ruaidh]

Little Bit Better Than I Used To Be

Catch up: Chapter 1 (Starry Eyes) || Chapter 2 (Save Our Souls) || Chapter 3 (Dancing On Glass)|| Chapter 4 (Merry-Go-Round)|| Backstage (1) || Backstage (2) || Chapter 5 (Danger)|| Backstage (3) || Chapter 6A (Love Walked In) || Chapter 6B (Without You) || Backstage (4) || Chapter 7 (Stick To Your Guns) || Chapter 8 (Time For Change) || Backstage (5) || Chapter 9 (Take Me To The Top) || Backstage (6) || Chapter 10 (Home Sweet Home) || Backstage (7) || Chapter 11a (Nightrain) || Chapter 11b (Nothing Else Matters) || Chapter 12a (Handle With Care) || Chapter 12b (I’m So Tired of Being Lonely) || Chapter 13a (Angel) || Chapter 13b (She’s My Addiction) || Chapter 13c (Patience) || Chapter 14a (Where Do We Go Now?) || Chapter 14b (Where Do We Go Now?) || Chapter 14c (Where Do We Go Now?) || Chapter 15a (Dreams) || Chapter 15b (I Sing A Song of Love) || Chapter 15c (You Can Do This If You Try) || Chapter 16 (Let That Feeling Grab You Deep Inside || Chapter 17A: Never Tear Us Apart || Chapter 17B: It’s Tough To Be Somebody, And It’s Hard Not To Fall Apart  || Chapter 17C: I’m Wishing, Lord, That I Was Stoned || Chapter 18: Turn The Page || Chapter 19A: When You’re Alone, Do You Let Go? || Chapter 19B: Heading For A Spin || Chapter 20A: I Don’t Need Nothing When I’m By Your Side || Chapter 20B: I'm Walkin' Down This Rocky Road ||| Also posted at AO3

Chapter 20C: You're The Only One Who Gets Through To Me

I feel good in your room Let's lock the world out Feels so good when we kiss Nobody ever made me crazy like this

-- "In Your Room", The Bangles (1988) [click here to listen]

North Carolina || February 1989

Darkness had settled on the cabin before Jamie re-emerged, hair damp, wearing jeans and a worn Eagles t-shirt.

He found Raymond in the kitchen, sitting at the kitchen table, working on a crossword puzzle. Raymond looked up as Jamie entered the room, and set down his pen.

Jamie sank into the chair across from Raymond. Sighed.

“I was going to apologize, but I think you would have told me that I didn’t need to.”

“You’re right.”

Jamie leaned on the table with his elbows, eyes down. “That hasn’t happened since we finished the tour. And it wasn’t even a bad one.”

“We’ll talk about that. How is Claire?”

“She’s in the shower. She…” Jamie swallowed. “I’m fucking nothing without her.” 

A beat.

“A few months ago, in the middle of the tour, we spent a weekend with Dougal and Gillian. Dougal said that I had traded my addiction to substances, for an addition to my wife. Do you think that’s true?”

Raymond thought about this for a long while. He waited for Jamie to sit up straight and look at him.

“Do you know the definition of the word ‘addicted’, Jamie?”

Jamie shook his head.

“It means, to be physically and mentally dependent on a particular substance, and unable to stop taking it without incurring adverse effects.”

Jamie lay his hands flat on the table. “Sounds pretty accurate to me.”

“Perhaps.” Raymond folded his arms against his chest. “But what about your music? Couldn’t you say the same about that?”

Jamie nodded.

“What about your family? Your friends?”

Jamie shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “Yeah, but – ”

“I’m not discounting what Dougal said, Jamie. But what I am saying, is that it’s not so black and white. I love Dougal, but he can be a bit too…literal sometimes.”

Jamie smiled, faintly.

“Are you incredibly dependent on Claire, Jamie? Of course. But she’s your wife. You spend every moment of every day together when you’re at home, and the vast majority of your time together when you’re on the road. That’s not typical. And, you’re both addicts in recovery, and you keep each other accountable. It’s to be expected.”

Raymond sat back in his chair. “Now – the question is, whether the nature of your relationship with Claire tips over into being so close, so dependent, that it becomes problematic. Do you think it’s a problem?”

Jamie rubbed his face. “To the extent that even thinking about a life without her in it will cause me to spiral, yes. To the extent that I only hear her voice when I’m stuck in a spiral, yes. To the extent that the only way I can come back to myself from a spiral is by making love to her, yes.”

“I’m not saying that you need to cut any of that out of your life, Jamie. Know that, first and foremost.”

Raymond watched Jamie visibly relax. “I meant what I said to you before – that you need to nurture your connection. Something I hope you’re coming to know about me, is that I don’t use words lightly. What the two of you have built – how you love and protect each other – I’ve never seen that intensity in a married couple before.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

“I hope you can understand that without drawing the right boundaries, it can be both. I hope you trust me when I say that I won’t do anything to test or damage your relationship with Claire. But you do need to broaden your levels of support, Jamie. Allow other people in. And create space for you, and Claire, to explore who you are without each other.”

“I know. I need to. I don’t want to use her up,” he whispered. “I want forever with her.”

“So,” Raymond said, so patiently, “Let me in a bit, please. Let me help you, too. I will help both of you.”

“It will make us stronger,” Jamie agreed. “But Doc, it’s so fucking hard…”

“Isn’t anything that’s hard to do, worthwhile?”

“It is.” Claire breezed into the kitchen, clad in sweatpants and one of Jamie’s flannel shirts, and kissed her husband on the cheek. “But thankfully I learned to use a crock pot to cook Uncle Lamb’s chili recipe a long time ago – it’s so much easier than cooking it on the stove. Who’s hungry?”

#outlander #outlander fanfic #jamie and claire #little bit better than i used to be

[pacific-coast-hockey]

Georgi Romanov: A Brief Introduction*

*bc there is not a lot of information about him in English.

Good evening to the greater Sharkudablr community, it has come to my attention on the eve of Georgi Romanov's Possible First NHL Regular Season Start that not all of you know about Georgi Romanov or appreciate him appropriately. This is insane to me as someone who spends approximately 40% of my waking hours thinking about Georgi, but then I realized that as a person with a blog, I can just say stuff to fix that.

This is Georgi Romanov:

He's not exploding you with his brain, he's actually exploding his teammates with his brain, you're just standing there.

This is also Georgi Romanov:

Goaltender Interference with the Barracuda is when Your Goaltender Interferes With You Beating The Shit Out Of Kole Lind 😌

This is ALSO Georgi Romanov:

At beginning of the season, sadly he got a haircut so he looks less like the kind of beautiful Eastern Orthodox saint you'd find in a stained glass window who was like the patron saint of taking poppers at Ultra Europe. Who said that.

Georgi Romanov is so important to me. He was a frequent flyer on the Wichita Express this season which makes it all the more joyful that he made a) to the NHL, and b) saved...uh...a couple of...shots against Edmonton. Fuck Edmonton all my homies hate Edmonton. Anyway, the Cuda signed him this summer thinking they were getting a lil buddy for Beck Warm (in the ECHL) and then he proceeded to kick ass at the AHL level and matched or outplayed Chrona and Mäkiniemi every step of the way and then Jmac way overplayed him and he did amazing anyway. Then I got to experience Jmac and GMJW putting him on the Wichita Midnight Rider bc the Sharks had uh really been banking on Chrona and Mäkiniemi for their goalie prospect pipeline and were NOT expecting some 23 year old kid who had played ONE single KHL game to actually be very very very very good, but like Jmac is incapable of spreading starts evenly between all three goalies, so Georgi had to be removed from the premises.

But he is very very very very good. Even though he suffered severe Strauss Mann-ification, he has risen to the challenge again and again! When Chrona got called up to the Sharks and then Mäkiniemi went down with mono, he basically got called up full-time to be the third goalie in the Cuda and he has been killing it ever since.

Here is an interview SJHN did with him at the beginning of the season, by the only man I trust on this bitch of earth, Nikita Sokolov. It's a good article, here are some fun tidbits:

Had to learn to tie a tie when he came to North America because in his Russian team (TIER 2 RUSSIAN LEAGUE!!) he just wore tracksuits

Stayed in Knyzhov's house for a month before signing a lease, which doesn't help the "Nikolai Knyzhov is the eldest daughter of the Barracuda" allegations but is so so funny to me too

The mattress company never delivered his mattress and he didn't speak enough English to resolve this, so he had to get his teammates and agent to help him out. I love thinking about Nikita Okhotiuk arguing with a mattress company. I think I would just give him a free mattress at that point.

Bought a car here with a loan to build credit bc him and his wife "need to think about the future. We want to be here for a long time.” 🥺🥺🥺

Here are some facts about Georgi from k 18minutemajor, when I asked if they had any fun facts:

Romanizes his name as Romanoff on instagram

It appears his nickname is Gosha!

Cuda fans all love him very much 😭

They also did amazing art of the greatest hits of Situations Happening To Georgi which I cannot overstate has crossed this man from give Georgi a knife to give Georgi several hand grenades. Please look at it and appreciate it and click on the links bc Georgi has suffered so much and still he remains so beautiful and so deadly.

Here are some facts about Georgi that you may only know if you attend games regularly or watch games on AHLtv:

He habitually bangs his stick on the ice when he gets pissed at his team. Or possibly encouraging them but usually it's when defense is falling apart and shots are like 45 to 30 Firebirds/Cuda, he starts slamming his stick against the ice like...a warning...a reminder...he's coming for ALL your motherfuckers.

Cuda stick the back up goalies in the tunnel and MOST of our goalies are so normal and just sit a couple feet back from the glass and hang out. NOT Georgi. Georgi has Emi the athletic trainer drag his chair right up to the glass and then he crosses his arms on the lip of the board and then he rests his head on his gloves and watches the game with his face pressed against the glass.

When we were rocking a line up with Nikita Okhotiuk for a few brief beautiful weeks, I very much watched Georgi on at least one occasion go up to Okhotiuk during a stoppage and take his water bottle from his hands. MY water bottle. And Nikita just let him.

Often the Cuda lose at home. Often the Cuda are trying to get the fuck off the ice as fast as possible. OFTEN Georgi will do a little one man salute of the arena with his stick while the rest of the team is streaming off the ice. Guys I think he really likes us :(

Cuda Goalie vibes this year were INSANE like I do not even know how to explain what was going on there without going full Pepe Silva BUT by the end of the year, things seem to have um. Well. I once watched Mäkiniemi (with mono!!) run -- run!!! -- down the stairs from the scratches box to go stand by Chrona in the tunnel to watch Georgi face a shoot out and when they lost, both of them waited for him to get off the ice. Guys I think they really like each other :(

Signed for one more year which I guess you could look up on CapFriendly, but EYE didn't know that until this week and I spent no joke like the entire season barfing with anxiety that we don't bring him back. But NO. Provided GMMG doesn't give me a 15th or 16th reason, we have ONE MORE YEAR OF GEORGI 🥳🥳 and will maybe (probably) be rocking a Chrona/Romanov tandem. Which is so beautiful to me as an Employee Appreciator.

Also here's some photos of Chrona and Georgi hugging:

It's the way Goosh was waiting for a hug and gave up for me lol

In conclusion: Georgi Romanov is so important and Sharkudablr needs to love him So Much. Thank you for listening 😌

#georgi romanov #san jose barracuda #''brief''

[rayshippouuchiha]

(tw: abuse, self-harm, suicide)

to child-free anon: you are absolutely valid. my mom has a similar problem. she's great to anyone who could enact consequences on her, but she made my and my siblings' childhood a living hell. it was an incredibly toxic environment to grow up in. i was regularly hit, yelled at, and manipulated by suicide threats, etc., all because a single thing ticked off my mom. the first time i contemplated suicide, i was 9. the first time i considered about killing her, i was 13.

as a child, i was convinced that she had two separate people in her brain, and i only wanted the "nice one". overall, she was an good mom. she took me on walks, baked with me, helped me with homework, and all the things a parent would normally do. sometimes she would be giddy and playful like a kid, and other times she would beat me for writing too hard in my notebook. i was deathly scared of the other half, constantly on edge for when it would come out.

she fucked me up so bad, and i loved her the entire time, because she was the only person who ever stayed with me. i craved her approval so viscerally in everything i did, but nothing was ever enough. she wanted everything from me, and i could only give so much.

i'm absolutely terrified of turning out like her because i can recognize so many of her behaviors in me too. i get auditory overloads easily, i bottle my anger up, and i have graphic intrusive thoughts that i can't always push away or ignore. my mom used to get severe light migraines and would scream for hours on end when she had them. i always think of them whenever i get panic attacks from an overload, and how much worse i would be if i had to deal with a kid during my migraines.

i adore children, but i would break any child i had myself. my peace and quiet is one of the few things i value above all else, and if someone breaks it, i wouldn't be able to restrain myself no matter how much i loved them. i know my mom despised herself for how she treated us, but she still did it.

you're saving someone by not having kids, and you're saving yourself too. never let anyone try to convince you otherwise.

Trauma is absolutely a completely valid reason to not want children, no matter the source. Just, I think it's so much more responsible to see these kinds of things in oneself and choose to take steps to contain any possible damage that could spill over onto others than to just ignore it or think it doesn't matter.

#RayRambles #abuse #abuse mention

[kadenemrys]

Arthur perches tentatively on the edge of the bed and pushes aside his feelings of resentment, determined to join the pair.

With a glint in his eye, he jumps onto the bed and points at Merlin and Morgana. ‘All right, listen up!’ he declares. ‘We're going to play a game!’

‘Okay.’ Merlin smiles. ‘What game?’

Arthur falters. He hadn't thought this far ahead. ‘Let's play Knights and Dragons… Yes and… and I'm going to be the bravest knight, of course.’

Merlin exchanges a look with Morgana that Arthur can't read. Then, he nods and grins. ‘Okay. But only if Morgana and I get to be the dragons. My family can talk to dragons, you know?’

Merlin seems to address the last part to Morgana, so Arthur jumps in before the pair can begin chatting without him again. ‘All right. And I'll have the biggest sword and the shiniest armour, and… and I'll get to rescue the princess!’ he continues, his voice growing more animated with each proclamation. ‘Wait… One of you needs to be a princess.’

‘Well, I’m not going to be a princess.’ Morgana folds her arms across her chest.

‘But you are a princess,’ Arthur whines.

‘I don’t care. I’m going to be a dragon with Merlin.’

Arthur turns to Merlin sheepishly. Before he can suggest that Merlin takes on the role of princess, the boy shakes his head. ‘No way! I am not being a princess just so you can rescue me. If I were a princess, I would be able to save myself!’

Morgana grins at Merlin. ‘I think you’d be the greatest princess in all the land!’

‘Yeah?’ Merlin’s eyes twinkle. He turns to Arthur, puffing out his chest, and continues, ‘And if I were a princess, I’d beat the stupid prince to the dragon and tame her because I would be a dragonlord princess.’

‘There’s no such thing as dragonlords!’ Arthur bites, feeling his pulse quicken.

‘Dollophead,’ Merlin mutters.

‘Wha— That's not a word!’ Arthur accuses.

‘Sure it is,’ Merlin insists.

‘Well…’ Arthur considers this and then challenges, ‘What does it mean then?’

‘Uhm... Prince Arthur.’

Merlin and Morgana burst into giggles, prompting Arthur to jump off the bed and stomp out of the room.

---

Does anyone want an arranged marriage royal!au where Princes Merlin and Arthur meet as children and fall in love, but Merlin ends up engaged to Morgana?

I'm bad at titles and summaries but here it is.

The Union of the Houses of Emrys and Pendragon

#merlin #merthur #merthur fanfic #merlin fanfic #my fics #bbc merlin

[itachislbeloved]

How Dare You?

A/n: I'm working on something currently and it's taking a bit of time since it's a bit long and I don't know by when will I complete it so I thought why not to post something short.🤭

Warnings⚠️: Hair pulling, choking, slapping, slight angst, Yandere boyfriend, obsessed bf, mentions of violence (towards reader and others) and maybe more but I don't remember so pardon me for that :3

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

You were sitting on the bed on your shared bedroom with your boyfriend. He was standing facing the mirror while taking off his nicely tailored coat. You looked at him in disbelief and stood up from your bed meanwhile he continued to loosen his tie around his neck.

"Why the hell would you do that? You just made a show of me there!!" You said as your frustration got the best of you. He didn't face you as he heard you speak so you took some steps towards him but stopped at a distance from him.

"I'm talking to you! You need to face me when I'm talking to you." You said in an angry voice and this time he looked over to you from his shoulder and turned his body completely towards you. He was done with removing his tie and was now opening the button of his full shirt and folding the sleeves of his right hand.

"What is it that you're so angry about?" He asked in a monotonous tone while looking at you with his chocolate brown eyes, your black eyes stared in his chocolate brown ones and you could feel your anger taking the best of you, "Yeah? Now you act like an unknown person? You don't know what you did back there?"

"Look, I don't think I did anything wrong back there. I don't know why you're making a big fuss about it." He said plainly and calmly while you were losing your patience, by now he was done with folding the sleeves of both of his hands and he now looked up at you, intensely.

"You didn't do anything wrong back there?!! Do you even realise what are you saying? You went with me to one of my friend's party and you beat the shit out of her boyfriend just because he asked me for a dance? You know he's like a brother to me and we have no romantic feelings for each other!!" You said in anger as you saw him take steps towards you. Soon he stood in front of you, those chocolate brown eyes are now a darker shade of brown but you were too agitated to notice that.

"Yeah I did that, so what? I don't trust him. Even if he's like a brother to you, I don't like him lurking around you. I don't like the way he looks at you!" He said in a slightly deep voice while looking intensely at you. You noticed the change in his tone and knew the meaning of it but you were too agitated to realise it.

"Look I don't care what you think, ok? All I care about is you and how only I am allowed to touch you, yeah?" He said as he brought his right hand up on your cheek but you pushed his hand away, "Yeah? You think I'm your possession that you can keep only to yourself?" You asked him and pushed him back by hitting on his chest and in the best of the moment, you slapped his left cheek. It didn't have much of an impact on him but surely his ego was wounded.

He looked up in your eyes which after slapping him has realised the grave mistake that you have made with his anger filled one. He clenched his jaw in anger and stepped towards you. You were scared for your dear life knowing that his anger is nothing to joke with. His eyes were staring intensely into yours and you gulped seeing his gaze.

He brought his hand up, his fingers wrapping around your throat. You realised the situation, seeing his face close to yours. "How dare you slap me? Do you even know, right now I can break your hands and no one would be here to save you from me. I did all that for you and here you are, acting like an ungrateful brat. Oh how so badly I've wished to kill him so many times and trust me, sweetheart, if he doesn't stop with his little tricks then one day I'm going to kill him for sure."

You were unable to process his words. You knew slapping him was not the right thing but his actions were making you lose your mind. You knew it was a grave mistake of slapping him. You knew you were in danger right now because his anger is nothing to joke with and you've learnt it the hard way.

"Also, I don't think you're my little possession, but I know this for a fact that you are my little possession that I can keep only to myself. So, the sooner you get this into that little dumb head of yours, things would be easier for you." You heard him say and gulped while his hands were still around your throat.

You were losing your mind by now, his words and actions and your actions were making you go all mad. His grip on your throat was making your head go all fuzzy. His other hand travelled up to your hairs and he gripped them in a tight grip. His hold on your hair was making your scalp burn.

You brought your hand up on his hand which held your hairs and gripped it in order to pry them over from your hairs. "Ahh...you're...hurting me, leave me." You moaned in pain as his grip tightened more. "Yeah? You're acting all hurt now? Never thought how hurt would I feel seeing you dance with someone else apart from me, seeing you close with someone apart from me?"

He asked in a dark voice as he brought his face closer to yours and licked the tears that escaped your eyes. You wanted to push him away but you were unable to do so. You were trapped. You couldn't do anything for yourself. "I..I'm sorry."

You said hoping he'd leave you and let go of your hairs and your throat. "Yeah? Now you're sorry? After doing all that shit you are sorry? He asked and leaned in more in you and brought his lips closer to your ear, "Sometimes, I wish to beat the shit out of you too so that way maybe you can know how much I care for you because surely by my sweet and simple ways you cannot understand, right?"

He whispered that in your ear and you gasped as you heard him, more tears escaped your eyes and you could feel your heartbeat getting faster. You could feel your heart drop down in your stomach. His words made you want to run away from him and hide somewhere far from him.

"No..no I'm so-sorry." You said hoping he will take your words and he chuckled darkly as he heard you. His chuckle made you want to run far away from him but you had no such opportunity. He brought his face back to face you and you could see his dark eyes and his sinister smile on his face.

"Don't worry, sweetcheeks, I won't do that, I won't hurt you but trust me, if it would require me to hurt you to make you understand my love for you then I will gladly do it, get it? Now say that you're sorry for your actions." He said as he let go of your hair and your throat. You coughed and wiped your tears but fresh tears continued to flow down your eyes.

"I..I'm so-sorry for my-my actions." You said as you wanted all of this to be over and wanted to rest as it was all getting too much for you to comprehend. He smiled and hugged your petite form and kissed your forehead, "It's okay, sweetheart, I forgive you." He said as he hugged you tightly and you cried in his arms. You never knew how dangerous could he be but you realised better not to mess with his anger.

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

A/n: This is too bad. I didn't expect it to turn this way out but I sucked at this one and I'll try to write a better one the next time but for now I'm sorry for this oneeee😭😭

#yandere x y/n #dark yandere #yandere x you #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere x female reader #yandere x female #yandere bf #female reader #dark fic #obsessed #yandere fic #yandere obsession

[dinogoofymutated]

Enemies to lovers! Quicksilver/GN!Reader

So no one requested this but I can't get it out of my head so it's going here!! I absolutely love quicksilver in the comics and the animated shows but most of his content is from the movies. I'm not complaining! But I wanted to branch that out a bit lol. I guess you can imagine almost any Pietro, but I was picturing his personality from Wolverine and the X-men. Haven't seen it in a while so forgive me if this is OOC.

This is set pre-dead professor. I might have also gotten a little carried away with this one, lol, and there will be a part 2! Fights and stuff are kept super vague for my mental health sorry if it's shitty.

-ps- someone let me know if Pietro's super speed counts for swimming too??

TWS: Tlasophobia (possibly?) Almost drowning. Dehydration, wounds.

You weren't sure if you considered Quicksilver an enemy, a rival, or an arch-nemesis, but the one thing you did know was that Pietro Maximoff was the most annoying motherfucker on the planet. Seriously! As part of the X-men, he seemed to always be in your way in every major fight.

What didn't help was that you were a speedster in your own right- well, not on land that is. The same gene that blessed others with powers beyond comprehension turned you into... a fish? Sure, you were fine on land, able to blend in with regular humans, but the moment you hit the water you were completely different. Gills, fins, the works. And you were fast. Really fucking fast.

Now when you first met Pietro while on a mission, he was being a snarky bastard. Can't catch me this, too slow that, ha! The guy may be able to run on water, but he's clumsy when he's in it. You're sure you have his face memorized from the time you caught up with him beneath the waves, tugging on his ankle and pulling him into the sea. His eyes practically bulged out of his head when realized what had happened. Of course, you're sure his face was even funnier when he watched you speed off into the depths, having neutralized him for the moment.

Every fight after that turned into a contest. Who can beat who where, Who stranded the other first, easily taking them out of the battle quickly and efficiently. Things like that. The professor had to remind you sometimes that the goal is to protect others, protect humanity, not quarrel with Quicksilver. You knew that, of course. You're thankful for the professor and what he's trying to do- but every time you saw Pietro's stupid arrogant smile you just got so- aggravated!

That being said, just because he aggravated you, didn't mean you wanted him dead. In fact, fate would keep pulling the two of you together in the least expected ways.

First, it was you, saving him from a sinking ship. He had slipped and managed to knock himself out during the fight, you having found him while trying to ensure everyone was off the boat. You were conflicted at first, knowing he was your enemy but not wanting to leave him to drown. In the end, you had grabbed him. The problem was that he wasn't breathing when you made it to the shore.

Some aggressive CPR and a few broken ribs later, he was coughing up water from his lungs. You, surprisingly, were at his side, holding him steady. Pietro was confused at first, letting you help him sit up as he coughed his lungs out, but his expression completely changes when he looks up and realises who's been holding him up. He makes an incredulous face at first, then rising to his feet in a split second, although not without swaying. He eyed you suspiciously as you stood to face him.

"You shouldn't be moving so fast straight away. I'm sure I broke a few ribs trying to get you back." You said. He sets a hand on his side wincing as he Most likely prods at a few bruises.

"Why did you...?" He can't seem to finish the scentace, and you simply shrug. You couldn't leave him there. As annoying as he was, you wouldn't wish a death by drowning on anyone. You're pretty sure you'd have saved him in any other circumstances as well, but you choose not to think about that right now. His face of confusion morphs into slight seriousness, and when he looks back to the ocean to see the Brotherhood is long gone he stands for a moment. You can almost see the gears whirring in his head, and reach out to take his arm.

"Look, I get that you recover fast and all, but you should really take it easy-" Before you finish your scentace, you've been shoved back into the sand dune. Pietro is standing further away from you than before, arms crossed as the sand settles from his quick movement. You stare at him in shock.

"Your loss." He says, sticking his tongue out before speeding off and across the water, kicking up sand in your face as he does so. UGH! Even when you go out of your way to be nice, He's a dick!

Despite him being a straight up asshole the last time you saw him, it's safe to say something between you has changed. You couldn't quite place it, but you could see it in the way you would fight. What would have been brutal punches shifted to major inconveniences, like handcuffing you to a railing and things like that. Incapacitating you without dragging you further into the fight. In fact, he hadn't even snatched you up to run and drop you off hours away from the fight for a while. Beforehand, he loved to strand you somewhere land-locked, forcing you to wait until the X-men came to pick you up. Sometimes it would take days for them to get to you, so you were almost always on guard, staying close to or in the water so he couldn't catch you.

You had gotten used to the new Quicksilver, and what used to be a rock-solid defence and begun to crumble. That was your mistake. The next time you saw Pietro, there most definitely a shift in the air. This fight was going to be brutal, but you and the team had prepared for it. You thought you had anyway. But with your friends getting injured, the fight dragging on, taking a turn for the worse, you were genuinely beginning to fear for everyone's lives.

It wasn't long after that relvation that your head was spinning, and you were being plopped down on a gritty, sandy surface.

"Sorry babe, you'll thank me later!" You clench your jaw at the sound of his voice, catching the sight of sandy dunes as you tried to turn around to rip into the man.

"Pietro!-" Your venomous words were cut off as a blur of silver rushes off, kicking up a gust of wind and leaving you stranded. Worse than stranded, you would say. Pietro had left you in a desert. A bright, dry, hot ass desert. And it was not going well for you.

Not only did you have no clue where you were going, but you were beginning to realize that you were in a really bad position. It was like every drop of moisture was being sucked out of your body. Your mouth felt dry and cottony, exhaustion setting in a little too easily. You were dizzy, dehydrated, and hopelessly lost. The sun had no mercy for you. Eventually, you have to lie down, doing your best to stay awake and not fall asleep, worrying about the worst, but eventually your drooping eyes win over your will to remain awake.

The sun is starting to set when you wake up, throat dry as a bone, both sickly and exhausted. You can hear the sound of something approaching, and do your best to sit up on your knees, doubling over for a moment before forcing your body to love. A pair of legs step right in front of you as you do.

"Wow, You look terrible." Quicksilver says, and if you didn't know any better, you would almost say he looks concerned. You don't have the energy to roll your eyes or speak to him at the moment, stars flickering in your eyes as you start to sway. You start to teeter, before you're snatched off the desert sand, Pietro having caught you and scooped you up into his arms.

"Worse than terrible, actually." He mumbles this time. His concern is clear now, face close enough to your own for you to properly see him. You scoff, or at least attempt to.

"You... left an aquatic mutant... in the middle of the desert. What were you expecting?" You say, having to pace yourself. You're fully leaning your head against his shoulder now, not having the energy to keep your head up anymore. You can feel him suck in a breath and tense up as you begin to go limp against him. His hold tightens up on you before he takes off running.

You've always been accustomed to extreme speeds, at least mostly, but the combination of how ill you feel and his sudden stop makes you want to puke. You can't bear to open your eyes at the moment, choosing instead to bury your face in Quicksilver's shoulder. You're sure he's taken you to some random place to leave you to die, but he sets you down on something soft and cushioned.

"...Where-?"

"You're in the mansion." He says quickly, cutting you off. You stare at him in disbelief as he stands back up, and you realise he's taken you to the medbay. You and Pietro make eyecontact for a moment, both wondering what to say. Eventually, you watch as pietro moves across the room to purposely set off the alarm, which you know for a fact he knew how to avoid. He turns back to you, winking as he readies himself to speed off again.

"See you soon, slowpoke." He says. You make a face at him and he laughs. In a blink, he's gone, just as the doors bust open, Beast running in frantically, with the professor rolling close behind him.

You cant quite figure out this man. Normally, he'd just leave you to fend for yourself. He's never come back to get you before. Why would he do it then? At first you were sure he put you out in the desert as a deliberate attempt to leave you for dead, but now? He seemed genuinely concerned for you, and you're not sure how to feel about that.

In the end, only Pietro knew why he came back. Or did he? Maybe he was just as confused and conflicted as you were.

Only time would tell.

#x men 97 #x men #x men comics #x men 97 x reader #x men headcannons #quicksilver #quicksilver x reader #pietro maximoff #pietro maximov #pietro maximoff x reader #quicksilver headcannons #x men headcanons #wolverine and the x men

[hopeinthebox]

tagged by the fabulous @cordiallyfuturedwight and @jimin-gaon <33 here's the december list

apologies for being late again new year same me: @aprylynn @jiminsproof @pauls-mccharmly @thvinyl @visionsofgideontheninth @btsbs @kimchokejin @jihopesjoint @eoieopda @monismochi 💜 and anyone else who feels so inclined MWAH p.s. please do tag me anyway if you've already done it

#superfluous commentary in the tags as per usual: #i feel you - ADORE THIS TRACK i can't even explain what it does to my psyche except that it initiates a beach episode. #noso is a phenomenal queer artist and you should check them out #smoke and mirrors - ms faith back in action on the rotation i loved this album in 2009 and it still hits. for the love of GOD take me back #loving you - i am a paolo nutini stan if nothing else. exceptional #love is all around - i am in my frazzled english woman era hence the romcom soundtrack #and tell me who could possibly embody that frazzled english spirit better than four weddings hugh grant #boys don't cry - it's the cure by name and the cure by nature for one listen and i am FIXED!!! #she's always a woman - now billy joel is a great name for a cat or hamster but i digress. the stranger album of the year 2023 (again i fear) #little bird - was annie lennox in the last one?? i still have this on repeat. #googling the lyrics and it thinks i want the jonas brothers and it makes me want to sit right down and cry cry cry i'll tell you that much #jenny - paolo again can you blame me? i cannot express how much i adore his entire discography. #these scottish italians... deadly combination for my mental health. peter capaldi sit down #white flag - dido save me.. save me dido... my jihope anthem because i WILL go down with this ship #eternal flame - banger after banger it's almost as if i made this playlist myself!! can you feel my heart beating??? i apologise #as for the artist list #norah jones and jamie cullum christmas albums on repeat lord forgive me for i have listened to jazz #hozier and abba seem to make it without fail every month. for those who aren't familiar hozier is like if abba were irish. and bitchless. #NOW I'VE SAID TOO MUCH #the rest of the artists are fab of course but does olivia dean know i would die for her? #anyway. insert closing statements #tag #receiptify #MWAH

[firestarved]

More art I had done since last time! First one is done by my guildie in WoW, who has no socials afaik, as part of an AT. Liar's a heckin' art inspiration and a half though. San'layn Mora was done last October as a YCH from Tasogama on Twitter and I'd die for her actually!!! Hoooh I care abt this one too like hm. San'layn / Vampire verse maybe??

DO NOT REUPLOAD OR REBLOG.

#` ✦ ⋮ visage ⋮ cause i’m hot like hell; does it burn when i’m not there? #` ✦ ⋮ saved ⋮ takes one to know one; you beat me at my own game. #` ✦ ⋮ my art ⋮ gotta love spending ten years drawing the same circle. #I BITE THESE I RRRRRRGRGRRHRGRGGHGHHHFJSDFJ #HELP WHO ALLOWED MORA TO BE SO BEAUTIFUL HELP #i could talk for a billion years about the SYMBOLISM in the 1st one too it is just sooooo soo so much i care abt liar sm #and hhhhhhh tasogama was like vampire ych?? you mean SANLAYN?????? and i nodded

[skrunksthatwunk]

yesterday i was talking with my friend who reads a lotta kindle unlimited het romance novels (ok girl live your truth) and apparently the sports romance market is like 80% about hockey players and she was like "I wonder why that is" and i, a little too fast and a little too loud, went

oh it's the violence for sure

and then had to pretend that was a conclusion i came to from a place of cold impersonal logic and worldly wisdom and not literally anything having to do with me as a person

#like. i still think im right but way to trip and show my hand yknow #straight girls can get a little hockey-man blood smeared on the protective glass as a treat #sorry guys but im an rgg fan!! vaguely to distinctly eroticized violence is like 70% of the fan AND canon content out there #you learn to see it and cheer it on like a young bird in flight #but also i was like that looong before i was into rgg lmao #no omg wait the other day i offered to fistfight my buddy bc he was losin it a bit and i thought it'd help #and then i had to backpedal bc i remembered im saving putting these dukes up for marriage so to speak #also important to know that i didnt even let novel girl finish her sentence like. get it together #also also we were talking pretty loudly already but i was facing out towards the class (thus projecting my voice) #which means i got the distinct pleasure of watching people turn around to glance at me as i tried to explain my thought process past #'unga bunga fighting hot' #which i failed to do of course #not as cripplingly embarrassing as one might think for some reason. i think it's because im right #not a revolutionary take ofc but the kneejerk nature of it was a bit too suspicious for my tastes #funny though #just realized this post implies i am a luster-afterer of hockey players and thats not true. but they do beat the shit outta each other #and THATS the good shit

[bylertruther]

thinking about how lonnie only ever cared about will when he died and that was just to profit off of his death + will giving a girl he doesn't know his toy truck just because she's crying and he thinks she needs it more even if he knows joyce can't buy him another one + one of the very first things will did upon waking up in the hospital was ask if jonathan was okay + will telling them to close the gate in season two even though he's part of the hivemind and that would've killed him, too + will breaking his own heart by confessing his feelings and giving mike the painting he's spent so long on but saying that all of it came from el thus sacrificing his own wants and self to again help others + how that same selflessness and self-sacrificing nature of his is going to undoubtedly rear its head in season five again because he's at the center of it all and it all goes back to him and vecna is a creature that feeds off of n fans the flames of pain and guilt... feelin very scared n anxious in this chili's tonight over this actually 😳

#he is NOT going to die obviously clearly we know this they're not killing kids #BUT. #i'm just saying.... i don't think it would be crazy for him to feel guilty and like maybe this wouldn't have happened if... #well... u kno.. :( #he would never give up bc that's literally his whole thing that he's a fighter and a survivor #but. he does love his friends and his family. and he has been willing to die if it meant saving them before so like. yanno. #BUT IT WON'T HAPPEN I'M JUST SAYING THE ANGST IS LIKELY GOING TO BE THERE #AND THEN OFC EVERYONE IS GOING TO BE LIKE ARE YOU FUCKING CRAZY WILLIAM SHUT UP SIT DOWN AND GO TO TIME OUT #and then we'll get some good n scrumptious hurt/comfort ok no one stone me i'm knocking on wood ok i Kno #just imagine will proposing that and everyone immediately says NO and mike especially gets pissed #because he's SICK and TIRED of fucking losing will every single time he thinks he's got him back #and god dammit he's already seen what life is like without will there he's not going to do it again he's NOT #don't go where i can't follow + crazy together + it was the best thing i've ever done + it's hawkins it's not the same without you #versus closegate + el commissioned it + she needs you and she always will #mike who is clutching onto will for dear life unwilling to let him go and will who is all too willing to #walk through the gates of hell if it means saving everyone he's ever loved and putting them out of their misery #but of course there's a better plan and letting will die is like killing a puppy it's like taking a sledgehammer to the foundation of #everything yanno. without heart we'd all fall apart n u can't beat the darkness without the light #anyway. can u tell i'm procrastinating editing my fic rn n thats why im writing epic poems in these tags <3 #mine

[onlygodknowsimgood]

When I was young, I never really understood my parents insistence to only use olive oil imported from Palestine. It took a long time and a great distance in a process that was neither cheap nor convenient. The oil came in old beat-up containers that did not look appealing to me at all. In my head, if they wanted to support distant family back home, they could just send them money and save us and them a big hassle. We could just use the nice looking olive oil containers from the nearby store. Yet, this was never an option in our household. The only olive oil we used at home was from Palestine.

‎As I grew up and started a student part-time job, I worked with olive oil a little. I knew all about olive oil imported from Spain, Italy, and other countries. I knew which ones were better and more expensive. I also learned to tell, based on the pungent taste, which ones were extra virgin. I was tempted to use my employee discount to bring home one of the fancy bottles and use at our kitchen. I could not get myself to do it, and I did not exactly know why. I felt like it would be disrespectful to my parents even if it didn’t make sense to me. It did not feel right. It was not an option.

‎After living in Palestine for a year during the olive picking season, something changed. The olive picking season in Palestine is holy.

‎Palestinians relate to the weather based on how it would benefit or harm the olives. There is well-known unspoken rule about treating olive trees with respect. There is a day off from work just to pick olives. On public transportation, it is not unusual to hear someone on the phone telling their friend to stop by for their share of this year’s olive oil stored in what used to be a Coca-Cola or a liquor bottle. A driver will stop in the middle of the way to give his brother- in- law a jar of olives that are so close to one another that they start to crush showing their insides.

‎In Nablus, the owner of the Nabulsi soap factory takes pride in how picky he is about getting his olive oil. He insists on filling a cup to let me smell how authentic it is and smirks as he sees my diasporic facial expressions transform in appreciation of its strong smell running through all of my brain cells.

‎I started noticing how olive oil is an essential part of so many dishes. “Palestinians drink more olive oil than water” I would jokingly say and they would laugh in agreement. Olive oil is truly an everyday ritual.

‎They fantasize about its color when it’s fresh and remind me that it starts to change as it reacts with oxygen over time. They dip their bread into olive oil, just like that and without any additions, and enjoy it more than the sweetest of all foods. I can guarantee that every lunch invitation (عزومة) I received during the olive-picking season was a chance for my hosts to share their olive oil using Msakhan (a traditional Palestinian dish).

‎I now have a deeper understanding of the psychology behind the burning of olive trees by Israeli soldiers and why farmers moan at the scene as if they lost a loved one.

‎Wherever you are, if it’s accessible to you, make sure your olive oil is Palestinian. Your ancestors would want that.

- Dima Seelawi

#palestine #olive trees #olive oil #فلسطين

[goldensunset]

rika jumpscare

#ok so this clarifies to me that the dlc does in fact take into account whether or not you’ve already finished the main game #bc i know for the teal mask you didn’t have to have beat it #but the dialogue here directly references the way home #it’s funny to think that after all this time we’re only just now getting in trouble with the league? #that’s right i forgot me and the gang technically broke the law lol #ok but we saved paldea ok. it was a personal matter #the ‘professor’ himself summoned us also #it wasn’t my idea and also arven is the one who made it happen. go after him #the sv dlc experience #sv dlc spoilers #oh but that’s the other thing. is it required for you to have beat the game then to get to this point? #like if not would they give you different dialogue here #i kinda feel like it would make more sense to force you to have beat it #even if that meant you had to do it in between parts one and two #bc like imagine going on a big plot heavy adventure into area zero when you haven’t even done the main thing yet #and even if you had the choice as the player. why would you even want to do the dlc before having beat the main game

[dreamingpine]

recently my sis asked me to play a cute dating sim. it was nice.

#it was nice and i played to him too #i made fun of him because those options are funny but it was nice to have slap backs without #having to think too hard on if someones feelings are hurt #just in case you know? #anyway i had a nice time but when it got to the part where the dude asked me a question #and i chose the 'yeah i daydream! lots of fun i have whole scenarios in my head' because i do!! and its fun #but the guy got worried; asked why i wanted to escape and stuff and said: “what? [White] are you lonely?” #and then my heart started beating so fast there was no voice acting but dude seemed genuinely worried about me #and it felt so real i had to take a second because dude wasnt real but no ones every asked me that and i had to think #“am i???” #i let my guard down didnt think guy would make me feel feelings >>*scared of inconveniencing others* #anyway it was a cute game but i got the 'i died because i saved someone else' and i think. #im putting too much of myself in these mc's #and i need to stop that.

[tonycries]

Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy - G.S.

Synopsis. He knows that you would be one of his favorite stories from his travels. And you know that you want nothing more than to stay by his side. After meeting an alluring cowboy at Ol’ Rustcliffe Saloon, both of you are sure of one thing - this must be fate.

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, wild west! AU, cowboy! Satoru, mayor’s daughter! Reader, Satoru is SO DOWN BAD, angst, kinda slowburn, friends-to-lovers, bartender! Nanami, cunnilingus, oral sex (female + male receiving), unprotected sex, gun violence, pet names (m’lady, my love, + others), tumbleweed bandits, reader and Satoru are both going through stuff, Gege cameo, swearing, author’s daddy issues come out.

Word count. 12.1k (I’m scared)

A/N. You know how hard it was to make this all cowboy-y. Anyway that’s off the bucket list.

Art by @_3aem on X.

“So, you itchin’ for a beating from me or yer’ wife?”

Glowering down at the drunk old pervert as he waddled away in fear, you sigh as you dust down your heavy skirts. Typical. The sun beats down on your face as you look up at that familiar faded banner.

Ol’ Rustcliffe Saloon

The only bar in your little town of Rustcliffe, and by default the only one around for miles. You hated this place - not the saloon, no, the handsome bartender there was always a sweetheart. But at some point, the comfort of your quaint old town had become too comfortable.

But that’s a story for another time. Right now, you were here to drag your father back home - per usual. 

Rolling your eyes at the cacophony of drunken voices carrying from inside, you step through the dust-bitten swinging doors. 

What hits you first is the stench of cheap alcohol, and then the inebriated camaraderie of the men around you. In the dim lighting of the saloon, you squeeze through the crowded tables and make your way to the bar. 

Not a hair out of place, as usual, Nanami lights up when he spots you. “Well, it’s been a while. Here for the mayor again?” he speaks over the boisterous laughs around you. 

You flash him a smile, “Yeah, you know my father. Fraternizin’ with the voters and all that.” you wave off your father’s excuse to come down here. 

“Certainly takes his job very seriously.” Nanami chuckles, “You’ll find him over by the window, in the back.” he points. 

Tipping your head in thanks, you walk the treacherous track to take your animated father home. When you come in view of his table, you find that he wasn’t alone. Damn, it was always harder to convince him to go when with other people.

You know your father has spotted you by his lively laugh and gleeful shouts, “Ah, my daughter! My beautiful daughter! Whatcha doin’ here? Come come! There’s someone I wan’ introduce you to.” 

A smile slips out unintentionally at his almost-endearing pride. You mentally prepare yourself to say some awkward hellos to some of your father’s old drinking buddies before dragging him home. 

Upon reaching your father, he immediately pulls you into a drunken embrace, wrapping his slightly rocky arm around your shoulders. “This is the daughter I was telling ya about! Prettiest girl in town! Hell, maybe even the country, knowin’ ma girl.” he prattles. 

In his jovial state, he abruptly turns to face whoever he was drinking with, unsteady on his two feet. Probably another old geezer, you assume not taking your eyes off your father until you could make sure he won’t collapse on the bar floor for the third time this month.

Finally, you look up. 

Your eyes meet blue. 

Blue, blue summer skies. 

To Satoru, you were the most gorgeous girl he’d ever seen. As soon as he caught a glimpse of you menacingly threatening that creep outside through the window, every word the mayor said went in one ear and he couldn’t even remember if it went out the other. Too entranced. 

And when he introduced you as his daughter? Shit, it might just be fate.

“C’mon now boy! Cat got yer’ tongue? What happened to that sharp mouth of yours?”

The booming voice of your father snaps Satoru out of his captivation. Damn, he must’ve been staring for too long. 

Mentally praying you weren’t spooked by his speechlessness, he finally speaks, voice slightly shaky at your presence, “Ah- Good day m’lady. Apologies for my impoliteness, the name’s Satoru Gojo.” he tips his crisp white hat. Gently grasping your hand in his, he places a delicate kiss, looking up at you as he awaits your response.

You gaze, slightly awe-struck, at his ethereally beautiful white locks and the impish grin from where he held your hand. His lips were so soft.

“Oh!” you startle at the clap of your father’s hand on your shoulder. Shit, you were definitely staring too long.  Rushing to introduce yourself, you quickly interject a “Nice to meet you, Satoru” before your father starts leading the conversation once more.

“Satoru here is a traveler, arrived jus’ today! Told him people like us could never, I mean imagine, right?” he slurs. 

Your ears perk up at this piece of information, “Oh? Are you really a traveler, Satoru? How admirable.” you gush, previous bashfulness forgotten. Was that…a blush spreading across his face? Couldn’t be - your town's whiskey was known to give people rosy cheeks on occasion.

“Thank you, m’lady. It’s nothing special really, jus’ staying here a while.” he barely gets the words out before you father bellows a tangent - “Don’ be shy, boy! How wondrous traveling is, kids these days could use some toughening up!”

Both of you rush to catch your father as he sways with a passion seen only during election rallies. It takes the two of you to steady the man. As he continues babbling half-lucidly, you cock your head sweetly at Satoru, “Help me take him outside?” 

Satoru thinks his knees might give out then and there.

The air is chilly by the time the three of you step outside, sun making its way below the horizon. Despite your father’s protests that he can ride home on his own, he knocks out as soon as Satoru gracefully mounts him on his horse. Carefully saddling behind him, you try to make sure your father doesn’t fall off of Satoru’s beautiful white Quarter horse.

“You really don’t have to escort us home, Satoru. My ol’ man wouldn’t even feel it if he fell, I swear.” you insist as Satoru holds onto the reins from the ground, feeling bad for bothering him.

“It’s no trouble. After all, Gege seems to like him very much, hm?” Satoru remarks as he turns to his stallion, who attempts to bite him in response, “Can’t say the same for myself.”

“Hmm, how can I be sure yer’ not a serial killer?” you tease, reveling in the sharp laugh it draws from him.

“You’ll jus’ have to take a chance on me, m’lady.” he hums, eyes sparkling with mirth. There’s a lull in the conversation as Satoru pulls on the reins to start walking you down the road, the rhythmic clip-clop! of the horse filling the still air.

“So you travel?”

“This is a nice town.”

Both of you speak at once, anxious to fill the silence, only to sputter self-consciously.

“You can-”

“No no, it’s only customary for a lady to go first.” he hums, looking up at you. 

“Tell me stories of your travels.” you breathe out, eager for any crumb of escape from your little town. 

As you made your way home to the sprawling family ranch, the night adorned itself with twinkling stars that matched the mischievous glint in Satoru’s eyes as he told you bizarre tales from his life on the road. 

“IN MY DEFENSE, it was dark an’ that tumbleweed was shaped suspiciously like a lowly bandit. Hey- don’t laugh- it was a very heated standoff!” Satoru exclaims animatedly as you cackle. 

“Yeah yeah, keep telling yourself that, cowboy. Even bandits woulda run away from your clownery.” delighted at the way the moonlight illuminates the blush that tinges his ears. 

Making a fool of himself, Satoru’s stories have you laughing until your cheeks hurt, wishing you could experience them too. You almost forget about your father’s deafening snores and the bite of the wind. 

But Satoru does not. Brows furrowing as he catches your slight shiver, he mentally berates himself for forgetting his manners. How dare he let a lady suffer the cold while he still had his fuckin’ coat! What a sorry excuse for a cowboy, this is worse than that time he accidentally lassoed a rattlesnake.

Hastily shrugging his coat off, he passes it to you with a sheepish smile on his face. 

Face heating up against the cold draft, you breathe in the smell of pine, amber, and something so Satoru. Clearly not as affected as you are, Satoru launches back into his stories.

If Satoru thought his knees were going to give out before then he knows they’re about to now. He aims to keep his eyes steadfast on the road as he recalls his endeavors, because he’s aware that even one glance at you all wrapped up in his coat wouldn’t be too good for him.

Making out the warm lights in the distance, his heart falls as he realizes his time with you is drawing to an end. You seem to share similar sentiments, as you sigh silently.

Once again, a silence falls upon you two (well, three if your slumbering father counted) - but this time, it was serene. You could almost drift to sleep if it wasn’t for your mother’s frantic calls for you from the front porch. 

“Oh, darlin’, I was so worried! I didn’t think it would be so late out!” she frets as Satoru helps you get down from his horse. Hands on your waist searing into your skin. 

Clearly awoken due to the commotion, your dad stumbles his way down and towards your red brick villa. 

“Ah, honey! I’m home…somehow…you know, I met the most interesting fella Something-toru. A wanderer, real interesting.” turning comically to Satoru, he exclaims in delight “Something-toru! How didya get ‘ere?” 

Stifling his laughs, Satoru backs away, claiming he had to leave before your father roped him into more rounds of drinks. Which clearly didn’t work because your mother approaches him, “Stay, Satoru, stay! Can’t have you sleepin’ underneath some tree when you escorted our darling daughter all the way out here.”

Any refusals are immediately blocked out by your very inebriated father yelling out in agreement, claiming he wanted to listen to more of Satoru’s “funny lil’ stories”. Your parents head inside - well, more like your mother heads inside with your father in tow - having taken his speechlessness for agreement.

As you follow, you turn to Satoru, a strange part of you gleeful at the fact you won’t have to part with him for now. “We’ve got an extra room, and it’s got yer’ name on it. The stablehand will stall Gege, c’mon, it’ll be a lot better than the ground.” you grin.

“Hey! The ground can be very comfortable.” Satoru declares defensively, yet follows you inside anyway.

It’s only rushed goodbyes and promises to talk tomorrow morning as the housemaids fuss around Satoru. “Goodnight m’lady.” he’d winked as your head housekeeper clutched her pearls at his dirty boots on her recently polished hardwood floors.

That night, as you lay in your childhood bed, you realize that you still have Satoru’s coat on. Whether from his coat or something else entirely that you did not want to explore, you felt so warm inside.

---

Morning dawns with the symphony of the Western meadowlark that nudges you gently awake - usually. Today, it’s abruptly shattered as the door bursts open and someone barges into your room. Judging by the thud of hefty boots, you knew very well who it was. 

“Rise n’ shine, m’lady!” Satoru’s voice - way too cheerful for six in the morning - chirps out. 

It’s been a few days since Satoru has been staying with you. Now more a friend than a guest, you expect he’s come to wake you up for a morning ride with Gege, watching the sun rise as you exchange silly banter. But it’s so early…

“What do you want, Something-toru.” you grumble out from in-between your comfy covers. You secretly delight at his whines of “How dare you not remember my name, I even told you about the rattlesnake lasso!” 

The warmth of your bed and the melody of Satoru’s voice has you sluggishly falling back asleep - that’s before he promptly sits on your bed. The force of it bouncing you both, making you sit up with a laugh.

Satoru was on your bed.

Satoru was on your bed. Shit, after what your father told him this morning, he wouldn’t blame you if you kicked him out with a punch to his pretty nose right this second. Mentally slapping himself a million times over, he hurriedly gets out the reason he was sent in to wake you up in the first place, “Ah- Um, the mayor is meeting with…someone important, wanted you to come down and meet him. Well, if tha’s all then I’ll be going, Gege won’t brush himself, sadly.”

And before you could get another word out, he’s swiftly out the door. 

Satoru was on your bed. Your cheeks slightly heat up as you realize you didn’t mind?

His words ring in your ears as you get ready for the day - if it was someone important, then you might as well dress to impress. Impress someone else too. Shaking off these strange thoughts from your mind, you make your way downstairs, nose wrinkling at the smell of tobacco that greets you.

You’ve always hated the stench of the overpriced tobacco your father brings out to impress guests. “There she is! My daughter!” your father smiles, beckoning you over. “There’s someone who’s here to see you.” 

Grimacing at the cloud of smoke, you take a seat on the plush sofa beside your father. He gestures at the man seated in front of him, “This here is Naoya.”

Despite his sharply handsome features, you shift uncomfortably at the way he watches you like a predator appraising his prey, eyes following your every movement. Apparently approving of what he saw, his lips curl into a smirk, “Your future husband.” he says saccharinely sweet.

What the fuck?

“Father?” you panickedly turn to him for answers, voice strained at your attempt to keep it even. But your father merely guffaws out a laugh, “Well well, nothing confirmed just yet. But you know with the way things are going with the re-election, might as well get to know a suitor and...” his voice trails off as he takes another puff of his cigar. 

“My apologies sir, I refuse.” you drone out, looking straight at Naoya. You don’t miss the way his smirk grows leeringly as he mutters “You don’t have too much of a say in this matter, sweetcheeks.”  The audacity.

Apparently your father doesn’t hear, a more grave expression taking over his face, “Now I’ve talked with Naoya, you’re of marriageable age. And as young as I feel, I won’t be around forever. You need someone to take care of you, dear. We’ve talked about this.” 

Tears prick at your eyes as you abruptly stand up, disturbing the smoke around you. “I can take care of myself.” you spit out venomously, storming your way to the heavy front door in an attempt to run away from this situation.

In the dim sunlight filtering through the curtains, Naoya watches in amusement as you stomp out of the room. Hilarious, the feisty ones were always the best. 

Over the mayor’s ramble of apologies, he grins “No don’t worry about that. She’ll be mine either way.”

The heavy wooden door creaks in protest as you slam it shut, echoing your frustration. The brisk air is a temporary relief from the suffocating atmosphere inside.

“Talked about this” your ass. Every conversation - if you can even call them that - was a heated warning about being married off before you end up a spinster. You couldn’t care less about ending up alone if it didn’t mean living life with a man that talked to you like that.

Your thoughts block out the crunch of the gravel beneath your boots as your feet subconsciously lead you to the stables, where you used to play hide-and-seek as a kid. More recently, though, it has become an escape from conversations like these. 

Approaching its familiar wooden doors, you catch a glimpse of Satoru, back turned and meticulously grooming Gege.

Sensing your presence, he turns with an easy smile that quickly fades as he notices the deep furrow of your brows. “Hey there, m’lady. Everything alrigh’?” cerulean eyes flit across your face worriedly.

“Oh yeah, everything’s great. Just got introduced to my absolute asshat of a future husband.” as if Satoru’s concerned expression makes something in you snap, the words tumble out along with your tears.

“I don’t even- The way he looked at me- Can you even believe?”

Satoru was about to rip apart whoever this load of horse manure was that made tears streak down your pretty face. Throwing his brush down - which Gege didn’t quite appreciate - he quickly envelopes you in his arms, letting you muffle your sobs.

“Hey hey. It’ll be alright, we’ll work something out. I promise, m’lady.” he consoles. 

Eventually, as your cries die down, you look up to see the rising sun casting a soft glow on Satoru’s features, illuminating the sincerity in his gaze.

The determined glint in his eyes emboldens you, “Yer’ right, I will not be forced into a marriage, especially with someone like Naoya. I’m not anyone’s property.”

A subtle warmth is present in Satoru’s gaze as he utters, “Tha’s my girl.” before reeling back and backtracking immediately, “Ah! I mean- good for you m’lady. Naoya ain’t the one. Anyway, tell me about this ‘asshat’.”

You raise a brow teasingly at his rapid change of demeanor, before plopping down on the hay, launching into your first impression of Naoya and why the rumors downtown of him making babies cry were probably true. 

The sun shines high in the sky as you lay there in peaceful silence, only to be broken by the doubt weighing heavy on your mind. “I’m scared.” you admit.

Satoru turns from his place beside you from the hay, “It’s alright, you got Gege and myself beside you. If Naoya ain’t the one then he ain’t the one.” 

Your eyes meet his twinkling gaze, “Yeah, he’s not the one.”

The air grows charged with something unspoken as the silence stretches out. Satoru can feel the tips of his ears burning at your words - stop it Satoru, she didn’t mean anything by it. As always, he retreats into humor to break the crackling silence. 

“I’d help you hide the body, y’know. Then you can have a shotgun wedding with whoever you want to share your days with.”

“Oh yeah? What if he turns out just like that asshat?” you challenge. 

“Well, if it doesn’t work out, you can always run away with me. Fightin’ tumbleweeds together.” Satoru makes light of the situation, in an attempt to etch that beautiful smile on your face once more. It works, as you throw your head back and laugh.

“Yeah, I’d love that.” you get out in-between giggles. 

If someone looked at you like Satoru did, you probably wouldn’t mind marrying them. A voice whispers in the back of your mind, sending your brows furrowing once again.

Meanwhile, Satoru finally had a name for your future not-husband - Naoya.

Urgently getting up and removing the hay stuck to your clothes once you hear your housemaids calling for you, you leave Satoru with a grateful smile that had him swooning out loud immediately after the stable door shut - to the very visible judgment of Gege.

It felt like a knife in his chest when the mayor tittered secretly to him about your future husband this morning, thoughts of you getting married plaguing his mind all morning. Well, if you were happy then it’s fine, isn’t it? 

He was halfway through imagining you in a beautiful dress of white when you’d arrived with a cloudy expression covering your gorgeous features. If Satoru had thought hearing about your fiancé was like being stabbed, then the despair on your face made him feel like he was completely cleaved in half. 

You deserve someone that deserves you. Probably not him. Certainly not Naoya.

Walking back to the house to fetch his riding gloves, he’s lost in the thoughts of standing off against a faceless man calling himself your husband when he bumps into somebody.

“My apolog- Asshat?” Satoru blurts out at the man testily raising a brow at him.

“Excuse you, barn boy?” he fumes, at the nickname that slips by. Ah, he’s done it now. Lips tweaking into a forced smile, Satoru grits out, “Ah, apologies, sir. Cowboy tendencies.”

The air is tense as Naoya mutters, “Keep those to yourself.” He moves to walk past Satoru, before stopping close enough to utter words meant for only him to hear, “And stay away from my future bride. I saw the hay on her skirt, yer’ insane to think you’d have a chance, barn boy. Go back to wanderin’ around.”

Satoru stands rooted to the spot as Naoya walks off, too many emotions he can’t name whirling inside him. That morning, he stalks off for his longest ride since arriving at Rustcliffe - not coming back with Gege until well after midnight. 

---

To Satoru, long rides always mean interesting dreams. Right now he was in a tap-dancing competition against a one-eyed alligator who looked suspiciously like your father. It’s a shame - he was winning too - that the competition is suddenly crashed by an angel calling for him. 

“Satoru…Satoru!” 

An angel that sounded like…you?

“Satoru if you don’t wake up I’m feedin’ your boots to Gege.”

His eyes shoot open, yet his sleep-addled brain still struggles to process you standing over his bed, soft hands shaking his bare shoulders lightly. “Angel?” he rasps out. 

You huff out a laugh, “No, I’m here to drag you to hell - or close enough at least.”

Face burning at already making a fool of himself before noon, he sits up in bed, blanket sliding off to reveal his toned upper-half.

Shit, it should be illegal to casually have a body like that. 

Trying your best to avert your eyes from the dips and curves of his sculpted body, you continue, “My father’s holdin’ Rustcliffe’s annual Harvest Hoedown in a few weeks, the whole town’s gonna be there. You made it just in time for some dancing lessons.”

“What makes you think I need dancing lessons?” Satoru raises a brow playfully. You take a brief moment to admire the way his sleep-tousled hair curtains his alluring eyes, before replying in an ominous tone, “I need dancing lessons.”

Wow, you really did need dancing lessons, Satoru notes as he stifles a laugh when you step on the poor instructor’s foot for the fifth time this afternoon. 

Locked in the stuffy studio, he recalls the way your father demanded that you not step one foot outside until you mastered the upbeat waltz for the hoedown - putting Satoru in charge of making sure you don’t slip away. “It’s stupid really, he’s never had a problem with me sitting out before. All because that asshat will be there…” you’d muttered hotly on the way.

Ah yes, that asshat. Sleep weighs heavily on Satoru’s eyes from riding all night long, yet his words still ring painfully in his ears. Who did he even think he was to have a chance with you? 

Well, it’s alright, Satoru will be out of this town in a few months, and you’ll marry some man of your choice that could give you everything you could ever want.

The only thing that snaps Satoru out of his overthinking tirade is the abrupt pause of the music and the heavy sigh the dance instructor lets out - clearly having taken a break for his own sake rather than yours. You shuffle sheepishly across the polished floor to where Satoru stands, “Was it worse than you thought?” you grimace.

“Well, you always do find a way to surprise me, m’lady” he teases, chuckling at your dramatic groan. Out of the corner of your eye, you spot the instructor rushing outside for a smoke. Hopefully not because of your dancing…

You scoff in defense as Satoru’s cackles grow louder - having thought the same thing. “Well, I’m sure the great Something-toru is much better on his feet.”

Instead of retorting, he steps one heavy boot onto the waxy dance floor, holding out a hand expectantly. “C’mon, I’ll show you.”

“But, there’s no music?” you raise a brow, yet you place your hand in his much larger ones. Soft, his hands were surprisingly soft. And so warm.

“Did I mention I was a great singer too?” he grins, a small dimple at the corner of his mouth as he pulls you closer. 

Shit, it was way too hot to be cooped up in a dance studio. Or maybe it was just Satoru’s hand around your waist, making your skin burn through your heavy skirts. They flow around you as he glides you gently across the floor. 

You train your eyes steadily on your feet - partly out of necessity, and partly out of fear of meeting Satoru’s intense gaze.

The only sounds filling the small studio were the squeaks of your boots and Satoru’s soft humming of a nonexistent tune. It was beautiful, his voice. It reminded you of calm summer days. 

“Ah- sorry!” you panic as you step on his toe, only for him to pause his melody and huff out a laugh.

“Step on them as much as you want, m’boots are thick.”

You’re sure he meant this only to bate your embarrassment, but something about his words and the warm endearment in his gaze have your cheeks heating up. You focus on your steps in silence as he guides you patiently, tenderly.

Pride grows in your chest as you start stepping on his boots every six steps instead of two. Satoru seems to have noticed too, “Hey! You’ve improved, m’lady.” he whispers, as if afraid to break the stillness in that humid room as you two continue your silent dance. 

Loud clapping from the doorway makes you two jump apart, shattering the serene bubble you’ve found refuge in. “Brilliant! I thought I’d come across my first hopeless case, yet you’ve worked absolute wonders Mr. Satoru!”

Your escape is quick, you urgently drag Satoru out the door before he can be forcibly recruited as a dance teacher. 

You heave out a sigh of relief at your freedom from the treacherous clutches of the dance studio. Merciless sunlight stinging your face, you begin to make your way through the dusty hustle and bustle of Rustcliffe in the afternoon. 

Now, all you had to do was avoid bumping into your father for the rest of the day and you should be fine!

Speed-walking by Ol’ Rustcliffe Saloon, you’re confused when you’re faced with a few more drunken stares than usual. Surely your new skirt can’t be that flattering?

With a jolt, you realize you’re still grasping Satoru’s warm hand in his. Dropping it as if it burned, your cheeks heat up at the mirth on his features. “Not that I’m complainin,” he grins, “but warn a guy next time you manhandle him. S’not good for the heart, m’lady.”

Rolling your eyes at his joke, you begin pointing out the things to see as you walk the familiar old roads of Rustcliffe, detailing the town gossip.

It really was not good for his heart, Satoru was sure he’ll drop dead very soon one of these days because of you. 

He couldn’t rip his eyes off of you as you animatedly talked about granny Wei wrestling Mrs. Davidson for her secret brownie recipe. 

Shit, he was really getting in too deep.

Night falls fast, a deep shade of blue. 

Saying your goodbyes to Nanami at Ol’ Rustcliffe Saloon - at a time you knew your father wouldn’t be around - your heart swells as Satoru excitedly rambles about “Good ol’ Nanamin! What a chip off the old block, we became fast friends y’know?”

You didn’t expect your mission to avoid your father to turn into an impromptu Rustcliffe tour. But watching Satoru’s face light up as you told him silly little stories of your childhood, you wouldn’t have changed it one bit. 

Sent off with a cheery “Come back soon deary!”, you’re exhausted by the time you say all your goodbyes to the people of the town.

“You’re loved, y’know?” Satoru speaks up out of nowhere as you steady yourself behind him on the saddle. 

“Hm?” you ask, fatigued from spending the day walking around town. A large hand caresses your cheek to rest your head against his back, tightening your arms around his waist.

Lightly snapping the reins, he repeats, “You’re loved.” 

You drift on his words gently to sleep, the clip-clop! of the horse matching the deafening beat of your heart against your ribcage. If only you could be like this forever.

SLAM! 

You wake up with a start, only to find yourself…hovering? Surely there must be a valid explanation - you really didn’t feel like doing an exorcism right now.

It takes a while of your nonsense to realize you’re being carried by strong arms supporting your back and legs. 

“S-Satoru?” you ask blearily. 

“Shhh, forgive me, m’lady. Didn’t think that damn door would be so loud.” he responds, bed creaking under his weight as he softly sets you down. 

Smiling down at your incoherent mumbles, he whispers softly “It’s alrigh’, you can rest now. Goodnight m’lady.”

Struggling to rip his gaze from your gracefully sleep-addled one, it’s only the thought of someone in the house catching him in this position that makes him stand up. 

A hand - uncharacteristically swift - grasps his wrist, stopping his tip-toeing to the door. “Satoru…” your groggy call of his name sends shivers down his spine. Hesitatingly following the gentle pull of your hand, he kneels beside your bed.

“Yes, m’lady?” he breathes.

You surge forward, sleep hazing the practical side of your mind. Acting on pure instinct, your soft lips meet his. 

Satoru freezes in surprise as a beat passes. One. Two.

He stays in the same position when you flop back onto your pillow, soft snores filling the otherwise pin-drop silence. His lips burn as he brings up a hand to touch them in disbelief, stifling an euphoric laugh.

You startle awake in the middle of the night, after some questionable dream about Satoru carrying you to the bed and you kissing him.  

Imagine. Ha! 

Settling back into where you were carefully tucked into bed, you snuggle the warm coat at your side. 

Wait. Shit.

---

If either of you remembered what happened that night, neither of you mentioned it. 

Oftentimes, you questioned whether it was a dream. The only thing keeping you from fully believing so being the intensity in Satoru’s stare whenever his eyes briefly flickered to your lips and the hasty retreats whenever it seemed like you would bring up the topic. 

But why wasn’t he saying anything? And why did he not want you to?

In fear of messing up the comfortable camaraderie you two had, you continued this magnetic dance of normalcy. But honestly could you really consider it “normal” if each gaze was charged with something neither of you could describe?

But why wasn’t he saying anything? And why did he not want you to?

You could only imagine the worst.

Satoru thinks he’s died and gone to heaven.  Well, probably a bit below heaven, because - ideally - there you’d be his wife and Gege would actually like him. 

It’s alright, even if just for a sleep-hazed second, he was yours. And he didn’t want to hear you apologize for it.

Still riding the euphoria of that brief kiss, he goes about life as usual, sure that you would be one of his favorite stories from his travels.

---

“WELCOME ALL TO RUSTCLIFFE ANNUAL HARVEST HOEDOWN! WE GOT HARVEST, WE GOT HORSES, WE GOT SOME HOE- Oh- what? yes, dear that was on my script…” your father’s voice bellows across town from the loudspeaker. 

You breathe in the warm, candy-scented air, fairy lights illuminating the colorful stalls selling everything from candied apples to binoculars (“Spy On Your Neighbors Without Worry!”). 

Place ringing with the bustle and chatter of the town, you think it feels like something out of a picture book.

A warm smile finds its way onto your face, you’ve loved the Harvest Hoedown since you were a kid. Here, you can forget the longing for something more, the rows at home about your looming engagement, and most of all - you can almost forget Satoru.

Ever since that kiss, you’ve found it hard to face him. Sure, the banter and half-joking schemes to murder Naoya are the same. But your heart clenches every time he looks at you with a tender melancholy, losing the words to apologize for taking advantage of his kindness.

“Come come! It’s startin’!” you hear gleefully from your left. Before you can register what’s happening, you’re pulled into a circle of bodies dancing to an upbeat tune. 

Laughter bubbling out of you as you lose yourself in the song, you turn to your right and see…your dance instructor, who is very visibly (and audibly) praying for his feet. Dramatic. You’ve learned a lot recently with Satoru’s help.

Oh, there he is again. For someone that leaves place so swiftly, he sure is set on living permanently in your mind.

Hidden amongst the audience, Satoru cackles at the distress on Mr. Dance Instructor’s face. Little did he know, with a bit of Satoru’s magic you’ve improved - stepping on his toes only once every fifteen steps! 

He was so proud of his girl.

Ah, except you’re not. You’re so much more. And he’s reminded of that every time you averted your eyes from his during dance lessons, the proximity of your bodies doing nothing for how out of reach you felt to him. 

He rips his gaze from you, walking away from the growing crowd. Where was that damn drinks table again?

It’s past twelve as the townsfolk start pairing up for the hoedown couples dancing. You’ve usually sat this one out, not one for the complicated steps nor the intimacy.

Out of the corner of your eye, you spy your parents waltzing in their own world. How nice it must be. Your supposed asshat of a dance partner was over by the drinks talking with some men, barely looking your way.

Guess the dance lessons were for nothing. Frustrated and slightly tipsy, you move to make your way off the dance floor. 

Suddenly, a large hand blocks your view of the exit. Who the- 

Satoru.

Ears tinged a pretty red, and eyes slightly dazed, he hiccups over the rich music “Would you- dance with me, m’lady?”

Maybe it was the beer, maybe it was the way his face flushed your favorite delicate pink - but you slide your hand into his warm one, “I’d be honored to, Satoru.” 

A strong arm pulling you flush against his body, faces only inches apart. His hot breath fans you as Satoru murmurs, “Looked s’beautiful tonight. Best dancer in town I’d say.”

“Only cuz’ of you, Satoru.” you chuckle at his genuine tone as he steers you across the dance floor. Feet in perfect sync, the waltz fades into the background as you look into his tired eyes. 

“Nah, tha’s all you, m’lady. I’m nothing much.” he grins morosely. 

Your brows furrow at his words, clearly something was wrong. And this wasn’t the place to talk about it. “Come with me.” you utter, pulling him along with you to a place you knew he’d love. 

Little ol’ Rustcliffe wasn’t called that for nothing. 

The air is tense, the chatter of crickets fill the silence between you two as you guide him to your haven, hand still tightly in his. It’s a steep walk uphill from the outskirts of town, a place you’d stumbled upon during one dashing attempt to escape from this town as a tween.

“Finally here.” you exhale as you reach your destination, fireflies lighting the way. 

“Hah- If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were tryin’ to murder-” Satoru’s voice dies in his throat as he drinks in the view before him. 

The twinkling lights of the entire town of Rustcliffe reflect in his eyes like constellations. Townsfolk barely discernible from this distance, yet the soft jovial music carried over. It was beautiful. 

Satoru looks at you in awe as you lay down on the ground and point upwards, “Tha’s not all, cowboy.”

Quickly getting on the ground beside you - albeit at a safe distance - his mouth gapes wider at the perfect carpet of stars above him. A celestial version of what he saw below. He turns his head to see you bathed in the moonlight. This place was beautiful.

“Satoru, are we okay?‘ you voice out in concern. He’s taken aback by the sudden turn in conversation. You cut off his scramble to make a joke, “I’m serious. Please talk to me.”

He can never win against you.

Heaving out a sigh, “Maybe. Who knows. But whatever it is, please don’t apologize for that kiss, let me have it.”

Now it’s your turn to be surprised, “Let you have it? Satoru, why wouldn’t you have it?” 

“M’lady, I don’t know if you’re aware, but you’re like fireworks. Captivating and fierce. That kiss was a mistake, and soon enough you’ll find a rich, handsome-”

“I only want you.”

“I’m leaving soon.” he retorts. 

“I only want you.” you repeat, stubbornly.

“I’m leaving m’lady.” he argues.

“No- Satoru-”

“And I’m childish. I’m insecure. I’ll never be able to provide for you the way you deserve.” he plows on, emotion cracking his voice.

“Satoru, I love you.” you breathe out. 

Satoru’s breath catches in his throat, the silence was deafening. “What was that?” he turns, voice quiet with disbelief.

“Well, I don’t know if you’re aware, cowboy, but you’re like blue summer skies. And I just so happen to love blue summer skies.” you huff out, finally understanding the reason for his behavior these past few weeks. 

“I don’t expect a huge mansion, or some enormous ranch, or even a cowboy that knows the difference between a lasso and a rattlesnake. I just don’t want anyone else, Satoru.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yes.”

“And…you’re sure? Really sure?”

“Yes.”

Silence punctures your conversation once more, broken only by a loud cackle. You turn in disbelief at his change in demeanor, “All cheered up now, Satoru?”

“Why would you have feelings for me? Was it the tumbleweed story that did it for you?” he gets out through laughs. It was contagious, and soon enough you yourself joined him, clutching your stomach.

In the thoughtful silence that follows, you find yourself inching closer to him until your faces are mere centimeters apart. “Blue summer skies and fireworks don’t go too well together.” he breathes. 

“We’ll make something work out, remember?” you hum. 

Your first kiss with Satoru was a sleep-addled mistake. 

The second was when his lips capture yours as if they were the source of life itself. 

Rolling on top of you, he’s careful to not rest his full weight as his lips don’t leave you, tongue caressing yours. Satoru tastes sweet - like hard candy and your father’s bottle of Baileys. Pulling away a hair's breadth, he whispers against your lips, “Let me be yours?”

“You probably say this to all the girls, hm?” you tease him, as revenge for making you wait so long. He softly bites your lips in retaliation, relishing in your drawn-out whine. “Yes, fine. If only you’ll let me be yours.”

Clearly approving of your answer, he continues his dance with your lips. Barely parting to breathe, as if it hurt to leave you.

And it did. A low groan sounds from the back of his throat as Satoru kisses you with the desperation from these past few weeks. His hands stayed firmly cupping your face, as if scared to move elsewhere. Yours, however, was wandering the expanse of his back, and it was driving him insane. 

“M’lady…” he breathes out at the feeling of your legs wrapping around his hips, a warning. 

You knew where this was going and you don’t know if you’ve wanted anything so bad. “Satoru, I need you.” you mutter, words punctuated by pecks to his swollen lips. 

Maybe that’s the trigger that sets him off. It’s not long before Satoru is kissing you again. Pinning down your arms with one hand, he rolls his hips into yours. You gasp as you feel the outline of his hard cock straining against his trousers. 

He was so big.

Your pussy drips with anticipation and fear of what was about to come. 

Satoru thinks he might be getting whiplash, how was it that an hour ago he was moping in his loneliness and now he’s got you underneath him? Silently thanking whoever was up there, he wanders a hand down your body. Fingers trailing teasingly above where you wanted him the most.

“Tell me what you want, m’lady.” he rasps. Now Satoru is sure he’s getting whiplash when you grind your hips up into his hand, whining “Need you- on me.”

Skirts hastily pushed up, Satoru shuffles so his face is right hovering right above your pulsing core. In the cool moonlight, he can see the way you get wetter at each hot breath on your cunt. “Please Satoru.” 

You were not good for his heart. Surging forward so he’s nose-deep in your pussy, Satoru’s tongue flattens against your swollen folds. His eyes roll to the back of his at your taste. You tasted better than the candy at the hoedown.

Your desperate whines for more send blood rushing to his cock, twitching achingly against his trousers. Leisurely dipping between your folds, he watches with blown-out eyes as you grind your hips deeper into his face, keeping a firm grip on his soft locks. Using him.

Shit, if this was your reaction to him teasing you…

Your whimpers of pleasure and lewd squelches of your cunt  fill the night air as he plunges his tongue inside your clenching hole, fucking you at a merciless rhythm. His brows furrow as his tongue dips in and out relentlessly. He sinfully loves the burn of his scalp as you pull his hair to angle him just right. 

Thumb harshly circling your clit, Satoru thinks he loses a bit of his sanity at every moan of his name that leaves your pretty mouth. “You taste s’good. So perfect for me, m’lady.” his voice sends vibrations to your pussy that have you feeling your heartbeat banging in two places.

“Hngh- Satoru, don’ stop!” you mewl as his nose catches on your clit, clamping down on his tongue. He continues his movements, breathing you in so sinfully. Air was overrated - Satoru Gojo, famously daring traveler and devilishly handsome, dies here between your legs. He wouldn’t even mind.

“Cum in my mouth, m’lady. Please.” he begs, voice muffled by your dripping cunt. He locks eyes with your fucked out ones as he pulls you by the thighs impossibly closer to him. He never wanted to part.

The stimulation of his voice in addition to his fingers and tongue becomes too much. “Satoru! Hah-  M’ gonna cum-”

Tears spring to your eyes as you cum all around Satoru’s tongue. He doesn’t let up his harsh abuse of your pulsing pussy, groaning as he laps up your juices - your slick pooling at the corner of his mouth. 

He was so greedy for you. Shit, this is so much better than he’s imagined every night he’s fucked his fist in that lonely room.

As both of you attempt to catch your breaths, the chattering song of crickets and distant music from the Harvest Hoedown fill the air once more. Satoru looks at you with a devious glint in his eyes that has your cunt twitching once more. 

You’d felt his rock-hard length. And you wanted it now.

“Satoru. let me feel you in my mouth, please.” you murmur. Kneeling before him, you look up at him with eager eyes. At his slow nod, you give an experimental squeeze to the large imprint of his cock, thighs rubbing together at Satoru’s drawn-out hiss. 

“Oh, m’lady. You drive me insane.” he groans. 

Cursing the heavy trousers that cowboys wear, you fumble it down his legs. Muscles, creamy thighs come into your view, making your mouth water. 

In the dim lighting, you see the precum drip down Satoru’s flushed cock. The prominent vein down his side glistens prominently. Shit, he’d never fit in your mouth let alone your cunt. But you wanted it so bad.

Satoru’s heavy breaths sound in the still air as your bruised lips inch closer to his throbbing cock. A deep breath, and you spit on his blushing head, saliva dripping down the side of his length and to where you gently grasped his base. 

It was filthy, it was debauched. You absolutely loved it.

Satoru lets out a strangled moan as you flatten your tongue and take his tip into your mouth, sucking gently. He bucks his hips into your mouth as you run your tongue along his sensitive slit “Shit- Sorry, m’lady. You’re just hah- too good.”

Popping off his aching cock, you press kisses to the side of his length. He groans lowly at the vibrations as you speak about something that has been on your mind for a while now, “Satoru, don’t you think we’re past formalities now?”

“Well, I could call you my goddess?” he smiles. “Or my angel? Or-” Satoru chokes on his words as you take him fully into your mouth - partly because you needed him to shut up, and partly because you cunt ached with need.

“Sh-shit. Jus’ like that.” he rasps as you suck him at a dizzying pace. Precum drips down the side of your mouth as you take him in deeper - nose meeting the snowy white hair on his pelvis.

Your mouth burns at the stretch, his hips grinding lightly into your mouth to meet each bob of your head. Your pussy drips once more at how desperate Satoru was.

His mouth drops open in a silent gasp as you move to take his tight balls into your mouth. You admire the dazed look in his darkened eyes. “Oh god- I’m gonna cum. Please, let me cum in your mouth, m’lady.” he murmurs, eyes rolling to the back of his head as you continue your ruthless pace.

As soon as your lips are around his cock once more, Satoru comes fast and hard with a gravelly moan. Hot spurts of his seed dribble down the corner of your mouth as you take it all in. 

Ah, this wasn’t what you had planned when you brought him here - but you sure weren’t complaining.

Satoru just about passes out when you stick out your tongue to show you’ve swallowed every drop of cum he gave, cock twitching once more. He needed you in a way that would make a hooker blush. 

Finding his voice, “As much as I’d love to ravish you right here, m’lady, I think you deserve somethin’ a bit more comfortable.” He swats at a mosquito attacking him as you grin devilishly.

---

Gege has never flown across the dry ground of Rustcliffe faster. 

Wind in your hair and Satoru’s arms warmly around your middle, you feel the thundering of his heartbeat against your back - matching your own. You admire his moonlit profile, the light casting an otherworldly glow over his cloud-like hair. You could probably go anywhere if it was by his side. 

You’ve never been happier to see that familiar ol’ ranch.

Navigating your sprawling villa, you find, is close to impossible with a relentless Satoru pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses to your neck. 

“Satoru…we gotta make it to the bed.” you giggle, drunk off of him rather than the liquor from before. He sighs impatiently, before promptly lifting you off of your feet. His hat and hip holster falling to god-know-where as he runs up the stairs to your bedroom with you in his arms.

The thud of heavy boot echoes throughout the empty house - your parents still at the Harvest Hoedown. It reminds you of the night you first kissed him. As he slams your door shut and pushes you against it, however, you never in your wildest dreams would have thought that it’ll lead to this.

Tongue tangling with Satoru’s, feet still not reaching the ground. You don’t think you’ll make it out of this alive. Nor will Satoru.

Satoru is definitely not making it out alive.

He’s barely stepped a foot into your bedroom before he’s got his hands all over you - groping and teasing every inch of your body he can find. Your legs wrapped around him, he holds you in the air, hands roughly squeezing your ass.

His lips don’t leave yours, tasting himself on your tongue - even as he bunches your skirts around your hips. Exhaling in relief as his hands meet your bare lips, he holds a finger to your pulsing core.

You whimper at the feeling, still sensitive from before. He drinks in your mewls of pain and pleasure, lips curling into a smug smile. “Still sensitive, m’lady? You poor thing. How will you take my cock if yer’ like this?” 

Your groan of impatience turns into a panicked whine as Satoru moves towards the bed, “Maybe we should tuck you in bed for now? Continue this tomorrow?” 

Reading the challenge in his eyes, you immediately free yourself from his hold. His confused gaze soon turns into a surprised one as you push him roughly onto the bed, straddling him after.

“You always do surprise me.” he laughs out between the magnetic kisses you leave on his lips. Buttons fling across the room as you rip his shirt in impatience - fingers too dripping in lust to work through them. You’re sure if the same could be done to your heavy prairie skirt, then it would’ve suffered a similar fate.

You run your hands along his sculpted body greedily, as you’d wanted to since the first time you saw him shirtless. He hisses at the friction and the impatience at wanting to do the same to you, fingers fumbling with your complicated clasps.

After much frustration and curses on whoever invented corsets, you’re finally exposed in front of Satoru.

Shit, he really should call you his goddess. Because in the dim lighting of your bedroom, he thinks he’s in heaven as you sit atop him, bare and needy for him. Fuck Naoya. Fuck any faceless suitable husband. Eyes half-lidded and lips kiss-bitten, you’re like this because of him. 

Grinding his now-bare hips against yours, a low groan rips from his throat at the feeling of your swollen folds spreading against his aching cock. Your dripping slick mixes with his as he continues rutting into you. 

“Ah! Enough teasin’, Satoru- Want you inside me.” you whimper sinfully. 

Your words make Satoru snap. Wordlessly, he sheaths himself inside you with a sigh of relief. Moans leave his throat unrestrained as he bullies his cock deeper and deeper inside your hot cunt. “Fuck. S’tight, your pretty pussy is suckin’ me in so good m’lady.” he hisses out, brows furrowed in pleasure.

Satoru could feel himself losing more and more of his sanity every time your plushy walls clenched down on him as he pulled out to fuck up into with harsh thrusts. It was so animalistic, the way your perfect cunt couldn’t bear to part with him. 

Your slick drips down his length and onto his heavy balls each time he rams into you at a merciless cadence. Soft yelps of his name leave your lips every time his tip kisses your cervix. 

Ah, this time he was actually going to pass out. Your pretty whines, your dripping cunt, the way your tits jiggled so enticingly at each thrust - it was all too much. 

Angling you slightly with his bruising grip on your hips, Satoru smiles with satisfaction at that one spot that makes you convulse on his cock. Abs burning at the pace, he hits it over and over. Your nails dig into the muscle of his shoulder, moans of his name leaving you against your will. 

You were sure to be absolutely covered in marks tomorrow. 

But that was a problem for later you. Right now, all you could focus on was grinding your hips down to meet Satoru’s thrusts, eager for him to hit that spot even harder. Your eyes roll to the back of your head at the painfully good stretch of your snug cunt. So full. 

“K-keep going, Satoru. Don’ stop, please.” Your rickety bed creaks in protest at each relentless thrust, overpowered only by the stinging smacks of his balls against your ass. 

It was so filthy. So debauched. And you absolutely loved it.

As Satoru’s hands sneak down to draw rough circles on your clit, you feel yourself getting closer and closer towards cumming. Leaning down to capture his lips with yours once more, you whisper against his mouth, “Satoru, I’m- Hngh-” 

He connects his sweaty forehead with yours, “Mm. me too. Fuck, gonna fill this pretty pussy up. You want that, m’lady?”

Just the thought of being so full of Satoru sends you over the edge. You cum with a lewd moan of his name, cunt clenching so impossibly tight around his cock. 

“Ah! Shit.” Satoru grits out at the way your walls were fluttering around him so perfectly. Your whimpers as you gush around him sounds like music to his ears. 

Satoru thinks he sees heaven as he cums. A part of his soul parting with him that night. Thick ropes of his seed paint your walls white, strained whispers of your name leaving his mouth as if a prayer. As if you were his goddess. 

A feral part of him keeps bucking his hips into you, letting you ride out your highs together. Fucking his cum deeper and deeper - claiming you as his.

You do the same in your own way - biting down on Satoru’s exposed neck. Hard. His strong arms wrap around you to keep you from moving away, letting you use him as you please. 

Cum drips down your legs, staining your blanket. 

As your highs finally bate, you blink out the haze from your eyes. Looking up at Satoru from where you were snuggled into the crook of his neck, admiring the innocent blush adorning his face and his glossy, bruised lips. Both of you so overstimulated and euphoric.

“Got any travel stories like this?” you chuckle out, half-delirious and exhausted from what just transpired in this room. 

“Not at all.” Satoru breathes out, pulling you closer to him, closing his hazy eyes to the sex-filled air. 

That night, squeezed into your warm single bed, Satoru tells you stories of before his travels. You’re unsure if your parents are home yet, and right now with Satoru in your arms - you don’t care.

You listen as he rambles about growing up in the quaint town of Summer Pass. How he was raised with beautiful parents, a wonderful life. Yet, since the passing of his best friend, he’d taken up what the two had been dreaming of since they were children - wandering the world. 

“I’m afraid, if I stay too long then it always ends up hurtin’.” he whispers into the still night. Caressing his hair, you pull him into your warm embrace. Your heart weighs heavy as the back of your mind pangs with the realization that Satoru will still leave despite this.

Both of you fall asleep reminiscing talks of your childhoods. In your exhausted state, maybe you misheard - but you could’ve sworn by the “I love you, m’lady.” Satoru whispered against your lips right before you closed your eyes. 

Limbs intertwined till you’re unsure where one ends and the other starts, you have the most peaceful sleep in a long time.

You’re unsure when Satoru snuck out of your room. The only evidence of last night being the washcloth on your bedside table that he’d tenderly cleaned you up with, and a singular button from his shirt at the foot of your bed. 

Cheeks heating once you catch sight of it, you make your way down to breakfast in your most well-covered dress. 

What you certainly didn’t expect was to be interrogated by your mother. “So…” she begins. ”When did you come home, darling? We didn’t see you at the hoedown after midnight.”

Ah, suddenly these scrambled eggs just did not want to go down your throat. “Jus’...went to see somethin’ interesting.” you respond, eyes meeting with Satoru’s amused ones across the table as he subtly plays footsies with you underneath.

---

Sneaking around with a secret cowboy boyfriend doesn’t just happen in books, you realize. It’s a lot easier since Naoya is around a lot more often than usual. The only thing he might be good for may be keeping your parents entertained…

Since then, Satoru, you conclude, really does not like L-words: namely, Love and Leaving.

Despite his breathless confession that night, Satoru hasn’t said anything more about his feelings towards you - nor when he’ll be leaving. 

It’s okay, you have time. You console yourself, as you lay in bed with him after he’d snuck into your room as per usual, pulling his warm presence closer to yours. But Satoru’s inevitable departure looms closer and closer like a dark cloud above your head. 

It’s only two months after that night, when you’ve retreated from another engagement conversation you shut down, that Satoru brings it up. Hands intertwined and watching the sunset on top of your father’s barn, he utters in an uncharacteristically grave tone “I planned to leave next week, m’lady.” 

Your heart pricks at his words. You knew this was coming. 

Clenching your fists in self-assurance, your words tumble out.

“Let me come with you.”

“Let me stay with you.”

The nostalgic lullaby of the world around you is deafening as you and Satoru reel back in synchronized surprise. 

“You- stay?”

“Wait- huh?”

Brow raised, you gesture at him to continue. “I just- I thought maybe I could stay here. Build a life with you, if you’d like, m’lady.” 

Your eyes widen in surprise. Satoru - who smiles brightest when talking of his tales of travel - was offering to settle down?

“W-what? Satoru, why would you? You love traveling.” you sputter out in disbelief. His smile grows, as does the warmth in his eyes. “I’ve found something I love a lot more.” he murmurs, with a playful bite to the crook of your neck.

You crack a smile at his sincerity, though you shake your head in disagreement. “You should be out there explorin’ the world, Satoru. And…I want to be right by your side.”

“I thought you loved this place?”

“I do.” you sigh. “But I feel so trapped.”

Resting your head on Satoru’s shoulders, you admit how dear Rustcliffe is to you - although oftentimes you try to deny it - and how you want to leave just as much. 

The stars wink at you two mischievously by the time you’re done, a twinkle that matches the look in Satoru’s eyes as he announces, “So~ We run away together in a blaze of glory. End scene, credits roll, Gege win’s best actor.”

“Exactly. Although I prefer the term unannounced relocation.” you hum, relishing in his bark of laughter. “Now, c’mon, cowboy. We gotta get up early for that damn election rally tomorrow.”

Heading back home as inconspicuous as possible is always tedious. In addition to praying away your swollen lips, you head in innocently at different times. 

Hurriedly greeting your housekeeper, you attempt to make a swift escape to your room. Only to be blocked by…Naoya?

“We meet again, sweetcheeks.” he smiles, stepping closer towards you. Determined to stand your ground, you stare menacingly up at him. “Hello, my apologies for being so unavailable to meet these days. Business, y’know.” your voice steady.

“Ah, yes. I know.” he hums dangerously. Looming closer to your face, you smell the tobacco on his breath as he mutters, “It’s no matter, your father and I have gone through with our conversations. You and I will announce our engagement tomorrow at your father’s rally. That is final.”

“I’ve talked with you about this, I’ve screamed at you about this. I will not marry you no matter what my father nor anyone else says.” you grit out through clenched teeth. 

“Why? Got anyone in mind? Think it’ll be anyone else your father approves of?” he raises a brow, delicately raising the neckline of where your dress had dripped down - where Satoru had nipped before.

He knows.

“Not at all.” you smile sweetly. Not waiting for a response, you run upstairs. Seems like running away in a blaze of glory might have to hurry up.

Twisting and turning the entire night, you don’t get a wink of sleep, mind a whirlwind of how you’d get Satoru and run away before the announcement.

It was terrifying.

---

Parading around town in an itchy engagement dress under the boiling sun on your father’s collection of purebred Italian horses (+ Gege) wasn’t exactly how you wanted to spend an ideal morning. But it wasn’t the worst.

You snuck glances at Satoru riding in front of you, looking devastatingly handsome as ever. 

Naoya had been terrifyingly quiet all morning. You could feel his penetrating stare on you, scrutinizing every movement and every conversation. He rides beside you - your soon-to-be husband.

As the procession ends at your father’s podium, where he proudly takes a stand. As he plows on with an inspirational speech that has the audience in cheers, your mind runs a mile a minute as you slip away from the stage. Even in your gauzy white dress, it’s easy to get lost in the animated crowds of Rustcliffe - which you and Satoru use to your advantage.

This was happening. You were going to finally leave. 

Heart clenching at the sight of your jovial parents onstage, you take a long look before turning away. It’s okay, it’s alright. This is something you’ve been wanting for years. 

Brain whirring at the letters you’d send them on your travels, you miss the harsh gaze following you. 

“Satoru!” you gasp at the blur of white and black that embraces you as soon as you step foot into Ol’ Rustcliffe Saloon. The bar, empty for the first time in years since your father’s last rally, was your hastily chosen place of refuge.

Nanami, who wasn’t initially too keen on being involved, had sympathized once he saw the look on your face. “Alright, but if anyone asks - you two were never here. Not too good for business, y’know.” he’d stated, permitting you two to do whatever you please. 

Although, it probably was worth noting that he’d almost taken it back once Satoru tackled him into a hug with a joyful squeal of “Nanamiiiin~!”

“C’mon now. I’ve got our bags saddled on Gege. We’ll leave immediately.” Satoru voices, snapping you out of your reminiscing. Rushing to give Nanami a farewell hug, your heart lurches as he whispers “Goodbye. Promise you’ll write.” 

This was really happening.

Nodding in promise, you finally turn to the open door and step into the dusty sunlight. Satoru leads you to where Gege is impatiently waiting for your quick getaway. You could almost laugh at the sheer exhilaration coursing through your veins. 

You were going to get out.

You grip onto Satoru’s shoulder for support as he circles his arms around you to lift you onto the seat, slightly shaking at the intoxicating adrenaline. 

You were finally going to be free. 

“Leavin’ so soon, sweetcheeks?” a chilling voice slices through the air. One that you know way too well. Your heart stops, as does Satoru’s hands in midair - before he sets you down slowly.

Body moving against your will, you turn to the deceivingly sweet voice behind you. Naoya.

A cold sweat breaks out across Satoru’s forehead. 

He stares down Naoya’s hand hovering over the holster at his hip. “I knew there was something off about you, barn boy. You think I’d be outmatched by someone like you?” he hisses, resentment poisoning every word.

Satoru does what he does arguably the best, “Oh c’mon asshat, don’t be so melodramatic. We’re just going on a little adventure.” he smirks.

“Don’t I know of these adventures.” Naoya spits out. 

Agonizingly slow, Naoya draws his gun. You could cut the tension in the air with a knife as the three of you stand frozen, searing sun casting eerie shadows across the desolate road. 

BANG!

Naoya’s first shot tears through the deafening silence. Narrowly missing the bullet, Gege whinnies in fear before running off to safety. Satoru skillfully maneuvers you two into the shadowy alleyway beside Ol’ Rustcliffe Saloon.

In the blink of an eye, he presses you close to the dust-bitten wall as he pulls out his gun. “Stay here.” he gasps out.  

With lightning speed, Satoru retaliates - firing back-to-back shots at Naoya with a speed and precision that has him scrambling for cover behind a barrel. 

The gunfire echoes throughout the quiet town, these familiar streets becoming a battleground. Despite both parties shooting from their impromptu covers, neither are invincible. 

A stray bullet harshly grazes his arm, blood painting the ground a deep crimson. Fuck, this really burned like a motherfucker. But he was still alive - he still had to protect you. 

The standoff intensifies, stray bullets flying off in every direction. They splinter holes through the rustic shop banners. You could only be thankful that the town was at the rally, confident you’d never forgive yourself if anyone died on this road today.

Satoru fires off shots with uncanny accuracy, years of defending himself on the road coming in handy. Yet, he was losing blood. So much blood. He realizes with a jolt that his vision was slowly blurring. 

Breaths labored and slumping forward against the wall, he aims one last shot at Naoya. Fuck. Shit. Dear lord, if you’re up there, please don’t let my love die here. 

A finger pulls the trigger. The bullet flies through the air as if in slow-motion. 

It hits metal.

Naoya’s gun flies through the air, clattering onto the sun-scorched ground as he is finally disarmed. The beginnings of a grin curl Satoru’s lips before he heaves out a heavy sigh. Eyes closing and body collapsing forward, the last thing ringing in his ears being your harrowed scream.

“No no no no. Satoru please.” sobs wreck your throat as your hands frantically check for Satoru’s pulse. In your panicked state of mind, you barely register the crunch of gravel nearing towards you two. 

“Shit. The fuck is it that you even want?” that dreaded voice sounds ominously in your ears. “To travel? I can fuckin’ take you places.” 

Sagging on the saloon wall for support, Naoya clutches his bleeding side as he observes the two of you. In an instant, you’re in front of Satoru’s body protectively, hand steady on his discarded gun pointed right at Naoya’s head. 

“Leave, before I shoot your brains out..” you threaten, voice deceptively steady.

“I thought I could be the one to break you - the mayor’s wildchild daughter. But why the fuck do you put yourself through this?” he continues, voice strained with anger. 

“Because he is the one I want. I refuse your proposal, and I am not sorry for it. Now leave.” 

You were standing up now, the cool metal of the barrel pressed firmly to his forehead. Finger hovering above the trigger.

“I believe the lady said to leave.” Nanami’s voice startles you both. His normally stoic face was etched with anger. 

Despite his injuries, Naoya manages to glare at Nanami. But, realizing the odds are against him, he backs away, but not before venomously promising “This ain’t over, sweetcheeks.”

He leaves a bloody trail as he limps out of sight.

“Told you this wasn’t good for business.” Nanami sighs at the chaos. With Nanami’s help, you carry Satoru inside - body moving on instinct as your mind races to process everything that happened. 

The empty bar now serves as an improvised hospital. Laying Satoru down on a table that acts as a makeshift bed, propping his feet up in a desperate attempt to recirculate his blood. You desperately tear the intricate of your engagement dress into bandages, hurriedly wrapping it around his injured arm.

The atmosphere is taut, air once thick with the stench of alcohol now reeking of blood and the dusty antiseptic Nanami had brought to you from the very back of his shelves. The methodic ticking of the bar clock sounds like gunshots to your ears.

His reassuring presence is probably what keeps you sane as you stare unmovingly at your hands, stained a dark red from the blood seeping through Satoru’s clothes. 

You must have been sitting there for hours. Maybe even days. Or it might have even been just a few minutes.

All you know is a flash of blue, and you’re surging forward, heart racing. “Satoru?! Satoru! Please say something.” you cry out, tears streaming down your face once more. Nanami quietly makes his exit to the back, leaving the two lovers to their privacy.

“Satoru.” you breathe out, relief flooding your body and a smile forcing its way onto your face as Satoru’s half-lidded eyes meet your worried ones. 

“M’lady.” he whispers weakly. His uninjured arm shakily cups your cheek, and you lean into his warm touch. “I would never have forgiven myself if I left you alone, m’lady.” he rasps, eyes boring into yours. “Couldn’t have fought off the tumbleweeds yourself.”

You let out a watery laugh. There he is, the man you love.

“I love you, Satoru.” you speak in a hushed tone, as if anything louder will throw you back into your nightmare. His smile grows, blue summer eyes flooding with silent tears. 

“I love you, too. So, so much. Wherever you go s’ where I belong, my love.” he utters words meant for you - and only you. 

Your heart swells at the indescribable emotion on his face. “Then, rest well. We have to make our getaway in a blaze of glory, remember?” 

It wasn’t a blaze of glory, more like a teary trail of apologies and thanks as you embrace Nanami farewell - for the second time today. He hugs Satoru too, but only begrudgingly after he bemoans about being on the brink of death any second now. 

You step outside once more, hands shaky at what awaits you. 

In the distance, you hear a frantic call of your name. You turn, only to have your parents barreling emotionally into you. 

Word seems to have spread around town about what had happened, and your parents were first to come to you - your father running off midspeech. 

Through your hurried stream of tears and recollections of what happened, you managed to bawl out “I-I’m so-”

Words which are quickly hushed by your equally emotional parents. “Please don’ apologize.” your mother soothes.

“If anything, I should. I’m so sorry for tryin’ to coop you up here, my dear. I was a scared, insolent man. S’hard to not see you as my little girl, I hope you can forgive me, my darling.” your father sighs shakily. He looks a lot older than you remember him.

Grabbing both your parents into a tight embrace, you whisper out the words “I love you, and I promise to write.” 

With a final hug goodbye from your parents - to both you and Satoru, you take a seat in front of him on the now-calm Gege. 

“Ready m’lady?” you send a teasing glance at Satoru, who positively swoons overdramatically.

“Oh yes, Mr. Brave n’ Handsome cowboy.” he responds in a theatrically high falsetto. “Travelin’ the world won’t be all sunshines and rainbows, y’know? If you want a way out now then jus’ say the word.” he warns in his normal voice.

“Trynna get rid of me already, cowboy?” you raise a brow playfully. He wraps his arms securely around your waist. “Just sayin’, wouldn’t want you to regret a single thing.” he murmurs softly.

“I won’t. As long as we win against those tumbleweeds, right?”

Huffing out a laugh, “Can’t promise ya that, my love. You’ll jus’ have to take a chance on me.”

The snap of reins. A last look at your waving parents, and your little town of Rustcliffe. You ride into the horizon with your white dress billowing behind you - on what you and Satoru would later consider blazing glory. 

---

“Didya hear about the mayor’s daughter? Last I heard, she was kidnapped by a rogue cowboy a couple years back, snatched her straight off her feet on her wedding day!”

“Hogwash! I heard she went quite willingly - the boy was quite a looker, you see. Stabbed her fiancé in his sleep before riding off into the sunset!”

Nanami stifles a laugh at the scandalized gasps echoing around the table as the old drunkards run the gossip mill. 

In a subtle motion, he discreetly tucks away a photograph, its back adorned with enthusiastic handwriting and a…hoofprint? 

Taj Mahal sprawling in the backdrop, two identical heads of white hair grin mischievously in the photo. 

Yet, yours takes center stage.

A/N. Did this in two days, anything is possible kids (I need to lie down). Reblogs are so so so appreciated.

Plagiarism not authorized.

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