#I can’t stop thinking about her voice trailing into the woods | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lostgirlmuseum · 9 months

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The Signal

Made this using images from Pinterest ^ Word Count: 6.1k

Pairing: Bucky x f!reader

Summary: You and Bucky get separated from the team after an unfortunate mishap, of which Bucky blames you. Except you’re not at fault! You thought… you aren’t too sure anymore.

A/N: Thank you all so much for all of the positivity on my first fic, I am actually BLOWN AWAY. You are all so kind!! I actually started writing this all the way back in February of 2022, but seeing the response gave me the motivation to finally finish it.

Warnings: Nothing absolutely horrible, just a bit of angst and fluff(?), plus a little gaslighting and violence.

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“Everything is going to be okay. We’re fine. Everything is fine. Everything–” She repeated the mantra over and over again, not quite believing it.

“Will you shut up?” Bucky growled.

Only an hour prior had both of them been sneaking through a dense forest and scoping out a running ex-HYDRA base deep in the frozen woods. Steve, Bucky, Natasha, Sam, and Y/N were used to missions like this, except this one required a higher level of subtlety and a successful sneak attack was critical. Their intel informed them that the base was rigged to blow if any unrecognized technology was detected, including any disturbances in the radio waves. Because of this, they all turned off their communications signals once they approached the range of the base. At least, they were supposed to.

“I’m just trying to keep myself from freaking out.” She grumbled, slightly trailing behind Bucky as they crunched through the brittle layer of snow.

“Why? You should be freaking out. You should very much be freaking out right now. Considering we’re stranded in the middle of nowhere, with no connection to anyone who can help, and I’m stuck with you.” He recognized he was being cruel, but he didn’t have the strength to stop.

“It wasn’t my fault!”

“The sooner you stop lying to yourself, the better.” Bucky responded without even looking over his shoulder. He hadn’t looked at her for the majority of their trek to the nearest safe house since they got separated from the rest of the group by the explosion.

“This is not my damn fault! I turned off my signal, just like Steve told us to.” She struggled to keep up with him, but she wouldn’t tell him that. She couldn’t show him any weakness–he’d just use it against her.

“Except you didn’t!”

“How are you so sure it was me? There were five of us!” She awkwardly jogged to get a bit ahead of him, and turned around to face him as she walked backward. “What makes you think it wasn’t you?”

“Please, like I would ever be so careless.” His gaze remained on the terrain ahead, and it looked like the trees of the woods were starting to thin out, signaling an exit soon.

“And I would?”

“Yes! Yes, you would. I knew from the start it was a bad idea to take you along. You can’t even follow simple instructions like turning off a signal.” He managed to pass her again, leaving her to struggle to stay next to him. He saw out of the corner of his eye her pointing a finger at him.

“I’m trying really hard not to take your attitude personally. You’ve been acting like a dick for the past week, but I’m sick of it.”

“Whatever you say, sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Sweetheart?” He finally glanced at her.

“Yes.”

“Why? Is it reserved for Steve?” Bucky’s eyes quickly returned to the path in front of him.

“What are you on about?” Genuine confusion laced her voice, but her question went unanswered as they reached a block in their path.

“Y’know your genius safe house plan?” Bucky gestured to the map balled up in her hand, the thing they had been using to guide them to safety. “Well, looks like we’re here.”

“This can’t be right,” she shook her head, quickly unfolding the map, “maybe we got turned around.”

“Just look up.”

She followed Bucky’s gaze to the sky, at which she finally realized the ridiculousness of their situation. They were stranded at the bottom of a steep cliff, which looked to stand nearly a hundred feet in the sky.

“You’ve got to be kidding.” Because who the fuck puts a safe house on top of a cliff? “There’s got to be an elevator or something, there’s no way we’re expected to climb this.”

They both scanned the base of the cliff, looking for any indication of a secret passage to the top. She ran her hand along the jagged rock and ice, and bit her bottom lip as she concentrated on the wall, eventually spotting a thick rope among a couple vines.

“Shit.”

Her voice gained Bucky’s attention, and he looked over to see her holding not one, but two ropes, each attached to a relatively large weaved basket. It wasn’t quite big enough for the two of them, but one person could definitely fit.

“After you,” he mocked, gesturing to the basket that was meant to work as a (sketchy as hell) pulley system.

Instead of answering, she merely pointed to the inside of the damp basket. Bucky peered his head over to see the bottom had completely fallen apart, leaving a gaping hole where a person would supposedly stand.

“Looks like we’re climbing.” Bucky sighed.

“I can’t–”

“Afraid of heights?” He snapped.

“No, but–”

“Good. Then there shouldn’t be a problem.”

He grabbed a knife from his belt and efficiently cut both sides of the rope from the basket. She watched, dumbfounded, as he took one rope and tied it around his waist. Then, he gave the rope a hard tug, and satisfied by the lack of give, turned to his belt and grabbed three more knives. He grabbed duct tape out of his tac pants, and expertly taped one knife to the bottom of each shoe. Finally, he tossed her the duct tape, knowing she already had her own knives. She watched both impressed and annoyed as he firmly stuck his feet as best he could into the ice and rock of the cliff, and used the other knives in his hands as leverage.

He made it about ten feet up before glancing back down to see she hadn’t moved.

“Are you coming or what?” The impatience of his voice stung almost as much as the cold did her nose.

She looked at him, then the rope, and then the knives attached to her legs, before making a move. Unlike Bucky, her combat boots came equipped with hidden spikes that could be used for climbing (although she had never used them for such activity, and normally used them as a treat when fighting, basking in the pride of catching her enemies off guard with a swift kick and metal spike to the face, groin, etc). She adjusted the spikes to be poking out of the toe of her boots, and tried not to think as she grabbed the second rope and knotted it around her waist.

Ignoring her left hand, she grabbed only one knife opposed to Bucky’s two, and stabbed it into the ice. She cautiously looked down at her feet as she began her climb, and looked back up at her hand as she found purchase a foot above her head. Already exhausted from the fighting and explosion earlier, she winced at the tension in her right arm as she pulled herself up.

At the slow pace she was going, Bucky was already 15 feet in the air by the time she was 3 feet off the ground.

Bucky looked down to see her far behind, and raised an eyebrow when he saw her climbing with only one hand.

“You’re supposed to use both hands, you know?” He mocked.

She rolled her eyes, but said nothing, as she let her left hand join her right hand on the handle of the knife protruding from the rock. Bucky noticed her silent grimace as she successfully pulled herself up to the next level. He continued to watch as she stiffly removed her right foot from the wall and placed it above her left foot, before once again grabbing the single knife with both her hands and pulling for a second before letting out an agonizing cry.

Out of curiosity more than frustration, he called down.

“What’s going on down there?”

She briefly looked up at him before looking back at the ground, “I can’t climb.”

“Missed the training day on it?”

His sarcasm went unappreciated as she growled.

“My wrist is broken, asshole.”

Her wrist is broken, and she’s climbing? What is she thinking?

“And you’re still trying to climb? You should’ve told me.”

“I fucking tried telling you! But everytime I try to say something, you interrupt me! Constantly! Besides, what’s the point in telling you if you’re just going to brush it off?”

Bucky swiftly removed the knives in his hands from the cliff, and held onto his rope, before half-hopping and half-climbing down the wall to the ground.

“Bucky, just go,” she sighed, “I’ll figure something else out. I’m not going to be a burden on you.”

She said it in part because, yes, she didn’t want to burden him, but also because she didn’t want to hear his whiny complaints.

He ignored her protests and gently reached for her left hand, inspecting the incredibly swollen wrist. He winced at her soft whimper. He let go and simply looked at her.

“Hop down.”

She didn’t like that he was ordering her around, but his voice was void of any emotion, and out of curiosity and self preservation skills, she obeyed.

“C’mon.” Bucky turned around so his back faced her.

After a couple moments of silence, he looked over his shoulder to see her face twisted in confusion.

“C’mon now, just get on.” He repeated, squatting down a bit more. “You’re going to have to hold on tight.”

Ignoring the absurdity of the situation, she did her best to climb onto his back, at which point he gently grabbed her non-injured arm and wrapped it around his neck to encourage her to not be afraid to cling to him.

After what likely was about twenty minutes of climbing in utter silence, minus the whipping of the cool wind, Bucky made the mistake of looking down. The good news was that they were almost at the top–probably about a quarter of the climb left. The bad news was that meant that they had already climbed about 75 feet, and despite Bucky’s fearless persona, he was not fearless.

“Fuck.” He whispered.

“What’s wrong?” She rested her chin on his right shoulder.

“Nothing… I just didn’t realize how high up we were.” He grimaced the moment he said it. He’d shown weakness. He’d given her ammo. “Gonna make fun of me now?” He started to shake just a little, and prayed that she would assume it was because of the cold and not his anxiety…even though it had been cold for the entirety of the climb.

“No.” She stated.

His head started to spin from the memories. He tried to push through it, but all he could think about was the first time he was this high up. It was as cold as this too. He felt as his left arm subconsciously twitched.

The first time I was this high up, I still had two human arms.

A sweet voice interrupted his thoughts.

“I think I can see the compound from here.”

It was a stupid joke, but he couldn’t help but laugh a little.

“You know, I’m pretty scared of the ocean.” She continued.

He didn’t respond, unsure of where she was going with this. He continued to pull themselves up.

“Just deep water in general scares me. My brother always made fun of me for it.”

Don’t look down, Bucky. Don’t look–

“One time when I was like–fifteen? I think? My family took a trip to this really big lake. We got on one of those pontoon boats and went out into the water.”

He was glad that she was so close to him, otherwise the whipping of the wind would’ve been too loud to hear her calming voice.

“My brother thought he was really funny, and told me to look over the edge of the boat while we were still in motion.”

He tried to grunt to indicate he was listening, but no noise came out.

“He pushed me right as my dad started speeding up. I fell in, and freaked out. Especially as I watched the boat leave me behind.”

He continued to listen to her and focused on her voice, and the vibrations. Her tone was casual, but he couldn’t help but sense she was telling him a secret.

“Luckily, my mom saw what happened, and got my dad to turn around.” She chuckled. “He claimed he was trying to help me get over my fear. But I got my revenge later that day, so it was fine.”

“What’d you do?” Bucky finally spoke up.

“Well, he’s afraid of peanut butter.” She tried to shrug, despite having one arm around his neck and the other hanging limply.

“Do you mean allergic?”

“No, I mean afraid. The stuff freaks him out. He won’t go near it. He’s weird like that.” She sighed in remembrance, and continued.

“So once we got back to the house I grabbed some peanut butter, and slathered it into his hair when he wasn’t looking.”

Bucky looked up again and was surprised to see how close they were to the top. When did that happen?

“He screamed so loud–it was hilarious.” She smiled. “He ran to take a shower, flailing around and being dramatic. ‘Mom! She put peanut butter in my hair! My hair! Mommy, get it out!’”

Worried that Bucky was judging her, she quickly added,

“He was seventeen at the time, by the way.”

Still no answer.

“I don’t think he’s forgiven me yet.” She whispered more to herself than Bucky, but he still nodded as he grabbed at the top of the cliff.

“We’re here.” Bucky didn’t mean for his voice to come across gruff, but the cold wasn’t helping his throat.

“Thank you for carrying me.” She smiled once she had both feet on the ground. It didn’t reach her eyes, but he could still tell she meant it.

Slightly embarrassed, Bucky attempted to grumble out a ‘Thank you for distracting me,’ but he wasn’t sure she heard it.

Come on, you can do better than that Barnes. Just apologize to her, he thought.

“Listen, I know I’ve been acting like a–”

Bucky’s words were cut off by a mysterious and sudden mangled…shriek?

“Oh my God, Bucky.” She patted his arm to get him to turn around.

He obliged, and his eyes became saucers when he saw what had made the noise.

At the top of the cliff was a partially snowy but also grassy plateau, inhabited by a herd of roaming goats. So, so many goats.

“Look at all the goats!” She gasped.

Right as she had said it, one goat had snuck up to them and started biting at Bucky’s prosthetic.

“Get off,” he quelled his shock and grumbled as he shook the animal off of his hand.

“Aw, it likes you.” She giggled, falling to her knees to pet the goat—more like ‘goats’, plural, because the animals seemed to multiply, and fast.

“Let’s get inside. We need to fix that wrist.”

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Beside the disturbingly large population of goats, and the absurd location of the safe house, the house itself was fine. Well, it was shaped more like a barn, but it was decorated like a house. After coaxing Y/N away from the “adorable” (her words, not Bucky’s) goats, and inside, Bucky led Y/N to the forest green rug where he had started a fire in the fireplace.

When he finished briefly looking around, Bucky grabbed some ice that had frozen outside the barn and wrapped it in a cloth from the kitchen. With her permission, Bucky carefully placed the ice pack where he saw the most bruising around her wrist.

“So,” Bucky had settled himself across from her, so they could face each other as they talked. He couldn’t help the pang of sadness he felt as she stood up and backed away to sit on the couch.

She wouldn’t move away if I were Steve, he thought, staring into the fire. They’d probably cuddle up together like they do on the couch during movie nights at the tower.

Y/N didn’t want to move away from Bucky, especially now that he was being amicable again. But the heat from the flames was melting the ice that cradled her wrist, and she didn’t want to add ‘soggy’ to her list of problems.

“So?” She asked, noticing Bucky never finished his thought.

“I’m just thinking about the logistics of this. There’s a high possibility we could be stuck here anywhere from a week to a month. Your signal was fried in the blast too, right?”

She nodded, and released her right hand from holding the ice, letting it balance on her wrist, as she reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out her signal. Definitely fried.

He pulled out his own signal from where he had kept it in his pants pocket, and showed her how it was crushed. “Well, without our signals, our team can’t track us. We just have to hope that they’ll figure out that we made it to a safe house, and that they don’t check this one last. Because I’m pretty sure there are at least two more safehouses dedicated to the vicinity of the Hydra base, right?”

She nodded. “We got unlucky with this one.”

“First thing we need to worry about,” he raised his eyebrows, trying to gain her attention, “is food. I looked at the kitchen pretty quickly and there’s not that much stuff stocked. A couple cans of beans, and such. Not nearly enough for how long we’re going to be here though. So unless we want to climb back down again, and see if we can find any food anywhere…”

She squinted and tilted her head as if she was a confused puppy.

“We’re going to have to kill a goat.” He finished.

Her eyes went comically wide. “I am not letting you kill Cheetoh!”

Bucky shook his head, exasperated, “You’ve already named them?”

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The longer they were there, the worse the winds got. But that didn’t stop Bucky from hearing the strange overlap of whipping winds, leading him to lean into the noise from his spot on the couch.

“Do you hear that?” Bucky nudged her.

“It sounds like the wind got a lot worse,” She nodded.

“No, something’s off.”

At Bucky’s concern, Y/N got up off the couch and beat him to the doors. She looked at Bucky, who stood directly behind her, before pushing hard to get the sliding door to budge. Instantly the biting cold attacked them again, and she had to place her right arm over her forehead to keep her hair from whipping into her eyes. Everything outside seemed to be an array of grays, until she was able to spot a shadowy figure emerge from the settling fog. A person appeared, as well as a helicopter.

“Sam?” She called, hoping her voice carried far enough to be heard above the wind.

“Y/N! Bucky! Thank god you guys are okay,” Sam called back, and was quickly met by Y/N who had run the rest of the distance to meet him. Bucky was shortly behind.

“I’ve never been so happy to see your face, Sam.” She giggled, setting her right hand appreciatively on his shoulder.

Quickly spotting Steve exiting the chopper, Bucky hid a scowl as he watched Y/N light up and bound over to the bundled up blond, while calling, “Steve!” He wished he had looked away before seeing her pull him in for a hug.

Wanting to distance himself from the interaction, Bucky stood by Sam.

“How did you find us so fast?” Bucky shook his head, and raised his voice, as the wind started to pick up again.

“My signal, man.” Sam yelled back, despite being three feet apart.

“What?” Bucky wondered if he heard him right.

Sam reached into the left pocket of Bucky’s under jacket, and pulled out a small familiar looking device.

Bucky felt a punch to the gut as he suddenly remembered.

The group had just landed the quinjet deep into the forest. They couldn’t land too close to the base and risk setting off alarms, so they settled for a three mile hike away. Bucky and Sam were meant to approach from the north side, while Steve, Natasha, and Y/N planned to approach from the south side, so the group split off after the jet to take opposite round-a-bout paths. It was about two miles left to go when Sam started complaining.

“Dude, does this thing actually fit in your ear?” Sam gestured to the communications device in his hand. “Because it keeps falling out. It’s getting on my nerves.”

Bucky gave a short grunt, which Sam translated to a ‘yes, it does fit in my ear.’

“I can’t,” Sam finally huffed, “I give up. I don’t have any pockets, can you hold this so I don’t lose it?”

Simply wishing for Sam to shut up, he obliged, and shoved the tiny device into his pocket for safe keeping. Neither of them thought to turn it off first, because in their minds, and past experiences, it always stays turned on in the field. Excluding the moments when people turn them off in acts of defiance.

About a mile later, both men heard a small rustling to their right. In hindsight, it was probably just a rabbit, but Sam suggested he go check it out, just in case. That’s what led to the two splitting up, but Bucky wasn’t worried. He knew that if there was a problem, Sam would’ve made it clear immediately. He also knew that Sam knew his way to the base all on his own.

Bucky arrived at his location at the same time that Steve’s voice buzzed in his ear. At this point, the extra signal was long forgotten.

“We’re in position.” Steve’s voice rattled.

“10-4.” Bucky responded.

“Alright, going dark now. Turn off your comms, let’s go.”

Steve’s voice was followed by the soft beep of Bucky’s signal as he turned it off.

He didn’t realize Sam’s signal was still active in his pocket.

“It was just bad luck dude, don’t feel too bad. I should’ve turned it off before I gave it to you, and I shouldn’t have assumed you’d turn it off yourself.” Sam tried to hide his pity with a half-smile.

“I–I was the leak?” Bucky whispered right as the wind started to calm again. He stared at the small device as Sam hid it in the pocket of his own coat. If only Sam had worn that on the way to the base.

“Yeah,” Sam said at a normal level now that the noise had nearly ceased, “but everyone’s safe now, that’s all that matters.” Sam reassuringly pat Bucky’s shoulder twice before looking back at Steve helping Y/N into the chopper.

Bucky let out a short hum, and focused on the ground. He wanted to crush that stupid little signal. He hated the way it made his chest feel tight, and his heart heavy with guilt.

Sam’s voice interrupted Bucky’s thoughts.

“Those are a lot of goats, man.”

Before Bucky could respond, Steve appeared in front of them.

“Hey Buck,” Steve smiled, pulling him in for a quick hug, “I’m glad we found you so fast. Are you injured at all?” Steve pulled back to examine Bucky’s form.

“No, I’m fine,” Bucky swiftly assured, before feeling the throbbing of guilt consume him again, “but Y/N’s wrist is broken.”

“Don’t worry, I know. I already told her I’d take her straight to medical once we get back. Speaking of, we should get going.”

“Right.”

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Three hours later, the group made it back to New York. As the ramp lowered, Bucky quietly pulled Steve aside.

“I can walk Y/N to med.” He nodded to where she was sitting, staring off into space.

“You sure?” Steve struggled to hide the surprise in his voice.

“Yeah.” Bucky nodded.

“Okay.”

Bucky gave his friend a firm pat on the shoulder before sauntering toward Y/N, who remained in her seat.

“Come on, Y/N.” He held out his right hand, offering her to take it.

“Huh?” She blinked twice, and stared up at him, eyebrows scrunched.

“I’m walking you to med.”

“Oh. Okay.” She paused for a moment before standing up. “So much for being stuck for months.”

“Yeah, I guess that calculation was a bit off.”

“I’m just glad we’re back home. And that you didn’t need to kill any goats.”

“I was going to leave Cheetoh alone.”

“I don’t know if I believe you.”

The rest of their walk was relatively short, but silent, until they reached the doors of Dr. Cho. Bucky didn’t get a chance to say goodbye, as Dr. Cho was given a heads up to Y/N’s injury, and already whisked her away.

Bucky rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet for a minute, until he decided it would be uncomfortable for all parties involved if he stayed. He knew she’d be alright, he convinced himself, so there was no need to be in the way.

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A couple of the Avengers found themselves mentally recovering in the lounge, waiting for Y/N to get out of her evaluation.

“She’ll probably be out for two months. Broken wrist and all that.” Steve relayed, taking a seat on the couch.

“Two months?” Sam repeated, looking up from his bag of chips.

“I think she’s pretty bummed, so try not to mention it.”

As if on cue, Y/N entered the room.

“Hey guys,” she smiled, waving with the arm that wasn’t in a cast.

“Hey Hon. How’s the wrist?”

“Really, Tony?” Natasha glared at him.

“What?” He feigned innocence, throwing his hands in the air.

“It’s fine guys. It doesn’t hurt that bad, I’m more embarrassed than anything.”

“Embarrassed by what? I think that cast makes you look tough.” Sam added, doing his best to cheer others up as always. “And hey, you and Bucky can be twins now.”

“Yeah, kinda. Look at that Buck!” She lifted her left arm in the direction of Bucky, who had been silently brooding in the corner. The bulk could be seen under the fabric of her hoodie, but she felt the need to emphasize the point by taking the pullover off.

She first tried tugging the sleeve off her cast, but it was a bit too snug. After a couple more moments of failing, she switched tactics to just pulling off the hoodie from over her head, but that got her stuck in an awkward position too.

After a second too long of borderline uncomfortable silence and shuffling, Steve spoke up.

“Do you want help with that?”

“Nope, I got it. Just gimme- a second…”

Somehow she had gotten the garment twisted around her right arm and upper body.

“Hon, just let us-” Tony started, but was quickly cut off.

“You know what? It’s suddenly cold again. There’s a weird draft over here.” Y/N quickly tugged the hoodie back down and gave a weary smile. “I’m going to go to my room.”

She ran off before anyone could offer an opinion. Unsurprisingly, Steve was the first to speak.

“I’m going to go check on her.”

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A soft knock came to her door.

“Come in.”

“Hey, Y/N.” Steve gave a sympathetic smile as he gently closed the door behind him.

“Hi Steve, what’s up?” She looked fine, but he could hear the strain in her voice.

“Nothing, I just wanted to make sure you were alright.” He stood in front of where she sat at the edge of the bed.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just got a little frustrated, it’s no big deal.” She shrugged it off, avoiding his eye line.

“It’s okay to feel frustrated.”

“I know. I shouldn’t though. It’s my fault, anyways.”

“How so?”

She cast her gaze to the floor and swept a hand through her hair.

“Well, I think the whole reason we were ambushed was because of me.”

“What? Why would you say that?”

She took a deep breath.

“After Bucky and I got stranded after the attack, I was sure it wasn’t my fault. But then he started saying things, and they were mean… but he was also right. I started second guessing myself, and I thought about it. I mean, out of all of us, I’m the newest. And I was so sure that I turned my signal off…but now I don’t know. I can’t remember. And if it really is my fault they found us, then it’s my fault that fight happened, and it’s my own doing that this—” she pointed to her cast, “happened. I just feel stupid.”

“You weren’t the leak, Y/N.”

“What?”

“It was an accident. Bucky was carrying an extra signal, and no one thought to turn it off.”

“Bucky?” She looked bewildered, shaking her head at this fact.

“Yes.”

“Does he know?”

“Um…I’m not sure. I didn’t tell him. We never had a proper briefing after the chaos derailed our schedule when we got back.”

“I have to go find him.” Her shock turned to a quiet determination of which Steve decided not to push her on.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you still want your hoodie off?”

“Yes please.”

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“Buck, wait up!”

Bucky slowed his jog around the track to a stop when he heard her voice.

“Y/N?”

“Hey.” She gave him a sweet smile once she caught up, one he felt undeserving of.

“Is there something you need?”

“No. I just had to tell you something.”

“I’m listening.” He nodded, crossing his arms. He didn’t mean it in a defensive way, it just happened.

“First of all, you should know it’s not your fault.”

“What?”

“I just found out how we got ambushed, and I figured I should tell you.”

“Oh.” He fought the urge to look away.

“Sam gave you his signal, right? But it was never turned off. It was just an accident. But I needed to tell you, because I know you’re going to blame yourself when they tell everyone at the briefing.” Her concerned tone and eyes met him for the briefest second before he wiped his hands down his face.

“I feel like an asshole.”

“No, please don’t.” She softly touched his elbow.

“I’m going to be honest Y/N, I thought you were going to take it a lot worse.”

“What do you mean?”

“When you found out that it was me. I was worried you were going to get really mad.”

“Wait, you already knew?”

“Yeah? Sam told me right when he found us…I thought you knew I knew, isn’t that why you just told me all that?”

“I thought you didn’t know. I wanted to be the one to tell you before the briefing, to tell you not to worry about it, because I knew you’d take it hard. But–but you already knew?”

Bucky just stared, jaw dropped at a loss for words.

“And–” She scoffed, “—and you didn’t tell me?!”

“Y/N, I-”

“Don’t ‘Y/N’, me! You—you, jerk! I can’t believe you knew all this time that you were the leak, and after belittling me and convincing me it was my fault, you didn’t tell me the truth!” She laughed in disbelief. “You selfish, cold-hearted, dickhead!”

He wasn’t sure what to say, but it didn’t matter, because she kept going.

“I’m stuck off missions for the next two months with a broken wrist, and you let me think it was my own doing! You made me feel like an idiot!”

“I was going to tell you—”

“When? After I was already told at the meeting? I can’t believe you!” She turned around briefly as if she couldn’t even face him, but quickly turned back. “To think I felt bad for you when I found out it was you who got us ambushed!”

With each insult she managed to get a little closer to him. So close, in fact, that Bucky was struggling to even comprehend what she was saying anymore. All he could think of was how close he was to her, how his hands were just itching to grab her waist. His head was nearly empty when he finally did carefully grab her and pull her closer to him. She paused her rampage to look up into his adoring eyes at his sudden movement.

“Bucky?” She whispered, a swirl of confusion and intrigue.

He replied by placing his lips gently on hers, feeling the warmth of her touch. She reciprocated, kissing him back for a couple seconds before bringing her hands to his chest to furiously push him away, followed by a swift slap to the face.

“Jeez-” The sudden change from bliss to reality was shocking.

“I can’t believe you James!” She yelled, her flustered look from both the kiss and her rage. “I can’t believe you just kissed me! I have a right to be angry, fuck you for thinking you can shut me up by locking my lips!”

‘Shit, I messed up,” he starts to think, about to spew apologies, when he gets cut off by her grasping his hoodie in her hand and pulling him back in for another kiss. The moment his shock subsides and he sinks back into the waves of her kiss, he’s just as abruptly taken from it, head dizzy as she parts from him just to slap him across the cheek again.

“Ow! What was that for?” He brings his hand to the sting. He’s so dazed and confused, a hurricane of thoughts and emotions all fighting for his attention.

“You make me so mad! I’m fuming right now! You are so selfish—”

She cuts herself off, pulling him in for another kiss, one that he’s still not prepared for. His frustration rising at her antics, he brings both hands to either side of her face and holds her steadily against him, resulting in their first kiss that lasted longer than five seconds. When he finally feels her about to let go for breath, he lets his lips leave hers, and continues to cradle her head, their foreheads resting against each other as they both gasp for breath.

“You’re not going to slap me again, are you?” He carefully asks, looking into her eyes.

“No.”

“You’re sure?”

“No.”

He laughs and slowly lets go of her.

“You okay?”

After a few seconds of silence, she responds with hurt. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I’ve already given you enough reason to hate me, I was sure that if you found out I was the leak, you’d finally hate me for good.”

“I don’t hate you Bucky. I always figured you kind of hated me. Lately you’ve been acting kind of like-”

“A dick, I know,” he nods. “And I’m sorry for that. Really, I am. It’s just-” Bucky’s voice seizes as she sees him look intensely at her mouth.

“It’s what?”

“Can I please kiss you again?”

She slowly nods, and allows Bucky to kiss her for the fourth time. It was fucking heaven to him. Regardless, he abruptly pulls back when a thought crosses his mind.

“Shit, what about Steve?”

“What about Steve?”

“Don’t you like each other?”

She couldn’t help but think his concern was cute, the way he acted like he was talking about middle school crushes.

“Bucky, no,” she laughs, “Steve and I have just always been really good friends. You know, when people are nice to each other, and they like to hang around each other?”

“I just always thought that-”

“Never. He’s my friend. And I can guarantee you he feels the same as me.”

She lets him process the information, watching him nod to himself as if taking it in.

“Oh.”

“Are you jealous?” She smirks, giving him a flirty shove.

His cheeks go pink as he starts to stutter.

“Jea- jealous? No, not jealous. Just-”

Was he jealous? Was it emasculating to admit it? It doesn’t matter, he doesn’t care, he’s sick of lying.

“Okay, maybe I was a little bit jealous.” He mumbled, drawing his attention to a pebble on the ground that he was toeing. “So, you do like me, right?”

She lifts his chin upwards and gives him the softest, sweetest, slowest peck.

“Does that answer your question?” She flutters.

“I think so. But the slapping earlier was a bit confusing.” He teased.

“Sorry about that.”

“It’s alright, it was well deserved.”

“No, I still shouldn’t have hit you.” She said with certainty. “But I am still a little bit upset that you didn’t tell me.”

“Doll, I know I should’ve told you that you weren’t the leak. I wish–”

“No,” she shakes her head, “I’m upset you never told me how you felt about me. Instead you acted-”

“Like a dick, I know–”

“No, I was going to say like a child. But yeah, a dick, too.”

They just stood together for that moment, appreciating the start of something new. New, and beautiful, with a lot less animosity, and a lot more kisses.

A/N: If you’ve made it this far, thank you, thank you, thank you! I hope you liked it. If you feel like it, please lemme know your thoughts! I hope you have a peaceful day/night 💕

#bucky x f!reader #bucky barnes x reader #Bucky fic #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky angst #bucky barnes fanfiction

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heesdreamer · 10 days

Text

IN MY ROOM

PAIRING ➩ heeseung x reader

WARNINGS ➩ none really, unresolved angst and one sided heartbreak

WC ➩ 2.6k

AUTHORS NOTE ➩ Normally I don’t write small drabbles but obsessed with this song and wanted to do something for it. No full fic for this or part 2 sorry it’s supposed to hurt! I highly suggest listening while listening or beforehand since it’s fully inspired by the lyrics and vibe

I like when it's dark out, October will cure me

I'm walking these woods, am I thirty or thirteen?

The size of your heart seemed to grow and shrink with the seasons, always fluttering and aching depending on the shade of the trees and sometimes it felt like it got quiet all together.

You figured out a long time ago that the actual shape of it and your anatomy wasn’t changing and instead you were just an over emotional person (if there was such a thing). Your mother blamed it on your father being a writer, saying you inherited his soul and his passion for pouring all of his love into every little thing with the hopes something worth putting to paper would appear in return.

You didn’t write like he did but you did often find yourself overthinking the journey of tree roots and being curious about how building a proper nest weighed on a birds confidence.

It was a lot easier to fall inlove with everything than to tune the world out and that didn’t fall short of affecting the way you interacted with the people around you.

The way you loved your friends wasn’t always romantic but you had a deep connection to all of them and a mental list of all their habits and cute quirks like the way Wonyoung covered her mouth when she laughed hard and the raise of Riki’s eyebrow whenever he was curious about something.

You loved Heeseung in a different way.

Your heart was heavy as you walked through the tree covered trail that led to your house, knowing once you started thinking of him it was nearly impossible to stop.

In your defense, he seemed to have that affect on a lot of people.

There was just something undeniably charged about Heeseung and the way he interacted with the world around him. He was ever confident in a natural way that didn’t have a hint of arrogance and his gentle nature struck you hard the first time you met him when you were 13 and he had just turned 14.

You became close friends after getting partnered for a school project and your heart was soaring when he kept talking to you even after you’d turned in the essay and gotten a low B.

He was bestfriends with basically everybody he interacted with but you couldn’t help feeling special when you kept getting closer and closer and your friendship started to actually hold some weight instead of just having surface level conversations in between class lectures.

The cold fall chill ripped through your sweater right as your mood started to sour and you shook your head free from the thoughts of him or at least as free as you could.

Not asking for much, man, thought maybe you'd call me

I slit my own throat just to see if you'd mourn me

“He really hasn’t said a single thing to you? Like not even something random and completely unrelated to his absolute betrayal?”

You rolled your eyes and sighed at the dramatic exaggeration of Wonyoung’s statement but she was right to be upset on your behalf considering you had a hard time being mad at him yourself.

Your sigh continued as you rolled onto your back and tugged the phones chord as tight as possible so it reached further on your bed, nearly coming off the wall with how hard you were stretching the old elastic.

“He’s waved at me in the halls but I can’t talk to him.” Your voice was muffled just from how much you didn’t want to admit the extent of which this bothered you.

You weren’t at all exaggerating, you really couldn’t bring yourself to talk to Heeseung ever since he had casually announced on his MySpace that he was now in a relationship with one of your more casual mutual friends. He hadn’t told you beforehand that he even had feelings for her and you felt completely ridiculous for thinking he held you as close to his heart as you did for him.

Even your friend group had been thrown off by the news considering everybody followed the silent understanding that you and him were more than friends.

You’d rolled your eyes the few times they’d brought it up, both in light teasing or genuinely trying to pry and get you to answer their burning questions about your relationship.

You never fulfilled their curiosity for a multitude of reasons but mainly because you had no idea what you and Heeseung were exactly. You liked him more than you’d ever liked somebody in your life and your face turned red whenever you saw him smile or felt his hand brushing against yours under the lunch table but he’d never said anything to you about it.

His feelings might’ve seemed obvious to somebody who didn’t know him, figuring you were dating the second he wrapped his arm around you or ordered your food without checking what you wanted since he already had your preferences memorized.

But that was just who Heeseung was and you were no stranger to that.

He was overly caring and involved with everyone he met and he could make somebody he’d met seconds ago seem like they were best buddies from kindergarten. He definitely had a sweet spot for you but there was no real evidence that it extended past platonic admiration.

You were overwhelmingly glad now you’d never been stupid enough to tell your friends you were together before confirming it considering his abrupt new relationship that completely shattered your view on what you’d been to him.

Clearly you’d misread the signals the entire time and the two of you were just friends but the more you thought about it, the more angry you got. Not at Heeseung because your heart strictly forbid you for ever thinking negatively about the boy but just at the entire situation and the lack of understanding from both sides.

It wasn’t friendly when he stared into your eyes with the waves crashing behind you and your friends laughing somewhere in the distance. Not at all platonic when he was taking your hand in his at the school dance and ignoring the dozens of eyes staring at him, waiting for a turn.

They never got it because he spent the entire night spinning you in his arms and complimenting your dress and hair.

You weren’t confused when he laid in your bed after his parents threw a fit about his new piercing, his head on your stomach and his voice a whisper when he told you that you were the only person who understood him.

“You’re my person and I’ve never felt like that with anybody before so it freaks me out sometimes.” His eyes didn’t stray from the blank spot on your ceiling and yours stayed locked on the bruise forming around the new piece of middle inside his eyebrow. “I couldn’t think of anybody else I wanted to run to.”

“Is that a bad thing? Wanting to come to me?” Your fingers smoothed over the piercing and he winced a little because of how fresh it was but you didn’t move your touch away, just lessening the pressure you were applying.

“It’s only bad because how much it consumes me sometimes.”

You didn’t ask him to explain what he had meant that day because you figured you knew but apparently you were somehow wrong.

“Y/N? Earth to Y/N, are you still there?” Your friends voice over the line was bringing you back to reality and you assured her you hadn’t left before asking her to repeat whatever it is she had said. “I said that he was totally wrong to do that to you, we all think so.”

For some reason the thought of your friends seeing the same thing as you didn’t make you feel any better.

It actually made you want to curl into a ball ten times worse because you couldn’t blame it on your rose colored glasses if the closest people to you also felt like something was blossoming between the two of you. Your confusion in his abrupt relationship only made you feel sicker and sicker.

I want your things in my room, I miss you all of the time

I stalk myself on the internet just to see what you'll find

I want your things in my room, I miss you all of the time

You make it look so easy, leaving everything behind

Two weeks had passed since Heeseung posted the photo of him and Aubrey with his relationship status being changed right afterwards, glaring harshly at you on your home computers wavering screen.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you studied his expression underneath the grainy edgy filter he applied to it, eyes tracing the squint of his eyes as he smiled brightly and her lips pressed against his cheeks.

He looked happy and that somehow made you feel even sicker.

You wondered if he hadn’t told you about it because he feared your reaction or if he possibly couldn’t bring himself to silently end whatever it was that you felt towards each other. It hurt more than it might’ve a few years ago because you’d finally begun to feel like the two of you were on the same page, managing to be mutually single and interested at the same moment for the first time in all your years of pining.

A dozen near misses were finally leading to something big and concrete.

Or at least you thought so until you logged onto your MySpace account and saw his post, the same one you were glaring at now.

You hadn’t posted anything since you cut off communication with him but you couldn’t help yourself from checking your page and scrolling down it, curious if he’d be concerned over your silence if he ever went to see what you’d been doing with his absence. Maybe he hoped you’d be posting sad song lyrics or actively breaking down on his feed but instead you’d gone completely cold.

It was the only option in your mind considering you never were able to be normal when it came to Heeseung.

The sight of his hoodie on your bed or his left over guitar picks and crumbled up pieces of paper with random doodles scattered around your room was enough to bring you to tears and settle a sick feeling in your gut so you couldn’t imagine trying to sit and type out a post that would read as normal. Perfectly fine and not obsessing over who your friend was dating.

You told yourself that you were mainly caught up on the specifics of it because he hadn’t bothered to tell you about it.

It was worse to find out from a simple post over him sitting you down and letting you know but instead your entire world crumpled with every comment and heart from people who didn’t know him outside of passing him in the halls.

They didn’t know him during those late nights and they didn’t know the way his heart beat harder whenever you brushed your fingers through his hair or met his eyes in a crowded room. The faceless usernames had no idea there was somebody out there absolutely shattering at this simple ‘in a relationship’ post.

You groaned into your hands and shut the computer down without bothering to close his blogs tab, knowing you’d be opening it first thing tomorrow regardless.

You look so cool getting high

No handlebars, you wanna fly

You look so cool, I wanna die

Is it too soon to say what on my mind?

“Hope you brought some bandaids.” His voice was wobbly as he circled around you and you laughed softly at his clear fearfulness, the sound muffled by the straw of your slushy that was clutched between your knees.

“For when you inevitably eat shit?”

He laughed at your bluntness and the action almost caused him to do exactly that, the bike wheel rapidly twisted on the rugged gravel and nearly sending him straight into the rocky parking lot he was currently riding handless around.

One of his hands was occupied with his own extra large slushy from the gas station near you and the other was holding a small joint that was nearly smoked out of existence. You had hated when Heeseung started to smoke and you spent the last few years complaining about the smell of his clothes and scolding you when he left the scent on your pillows.

You’d never tell him that you slowly got used to it, almost liking it as it blended easily with his signature cologne and his naturally aroma that you found yourself leaning into whenever you had a few feet between you.

He rarely smoked infront of you once he realized you genuinely didn’t like it and you were just nagging at him but today was the exception.

Heeseung had turned eighteen today and while your friends had begged and begged him to either throw a party or let them do it in his honor, he had strongly declined. You had been confused considering he was shy to partying and it would definitely be one of the bigger events of the year with how many people would love to gather and get drunk in the honor of Heeseung.

Your confusion was lost when he wrapped himself around your back, arms circling your middle and casually telling your friends he’d rather spend the night hanging out with you like it didn’t completely uproot your existence whenever he said things like that.

You didn’t even doubt the honesty of his answer, genuinely knowing he had more fun in this dirty parking lot with cheap slushees and your company than he would’ve at a huge rager.

“What do I get if I don’t fall?” He was smiling at you as he rounded back into your point of view but he was behind you again before he could see the way your own lips turned up. “Doesn’t that call for a prize?”

“A prize? What would you want?” You watched his eyebrows raised like he was in deep thought and you laughed at the absurdity of him disappearing back behind you as he continued to ride his bikes in circles around you. You didn’t like riding bikes as much as he did but last summer he’d painted a pair of pegs pink for you, sticking them to his otherwise blacked out frame and smiling proudly.

It was something you’d rolled your eyes at and you’d given him a quick thankful kiss on the cheek but you secretly loved standing behind him as he rode you around, hands on his shoulders and the wind blowing through your hair.

You especially loved how happy he was to show you that he’d done it, something that would make you more comfortable when you rode together.

He was humming like he was deep in thought and you waited patiently with your chin resting in your hand, smile bright on your face at his theatrical responses.

“If I don’t fall…. you let me stay at your place tonight.”

Your heart was already starting to beat out of your chest at the soft request and the way his voice got lower like he was waiting for you to reject him. Both of your reactions were ridiculous considering he’d spent the night at your house dozens of times and was over more than he went home but he always asked beforehand.

Something you liked because then it always gave you the opportunity to tell him that he was welcomed.

“I figured that was the plan anyways.” You took a large drink of your slushy after letting the words fall out more casual than you felt and he pressed on the brakes when he was in front of you this time, a wide smile still on his face and genuine easiness radiating off of him.

“You sure know how to make a birthday special.” He was so beautiful when he said that and the way he looked at you made you feel like he genuinely meant what he was saying even if he was just making a joke about your rather simple nature.

Telling him you love him was heavy on your mind and even heavier on your tongue and it took almost everything inside of you not to just blurt it out and accept the brute force of whatever his reaction might be without any preparation. You wanted him to know that his birthday was special, you needed him to know that you loved him and that you wanted to spend every year like this no matter how old you got.

Instead you took another sip of your slushy and let him ride around you until his tire gave out and he was landing on the gravel with a laugh that inspired your own.

You hadn’t know then that you were currently experiencing his birthday with the two of you for the last time and you wondered now if you would have told him back then if you had known. Would it have made a difference or was he always fated to leave?

Did your love story really end with a simple post from his end and the smell of smoke ever fading from the smooth fabric of your pillow cases or was this all some large twisted joke from the universe, one last test of your affection towards each other before you finally stopped nearly missing.

You tried your best to stop thinking about it and him and all the little things he’d left in your room.

#enhypen #enhypen drabbles #enhypen fanfiction #heeseung x reader #heeseung au #enhypen au #heeseung fic #lee heeseung #Spotify

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mi-i-zori · 3 months

Text

Among the Ice of Her Thoughts

CoD Viking!AU (Not Mine) - Viking!Soap x Healer!Reader

DISCLAIMER : Just a little something I wrote a while ago for @ghouljams ‘ Viking!AU. I just recently tweaked it a little. Healer!Reader is Ghoul’s character, not mine. I will write something for my own Viking!AU, but it will of course be very different from theirs. Please go check their work, it’s absolutely amazing !

WARNINGS : None.

I do not give anyone permission to re-publish and/or translate my work, be it here or on any other platform.

When she finally comes back from the realm of dreams, Dag’s chariot is already high in the sky, and the sun is peaking through the fabrics of her tent.

She finds tearing her limbs from their lethargic state to be no easy task. Her muscles are begging for a few more minutes of rest ; hours, even. They pull and wail along with her every move, the creaking of her joints echoing within their walls. She could indulge them - the Gods know how many times she decided to follow her needs, going back to sleep when she was supposed to start her day. But she is not tired enough to succumb to sleep anymore ; especially not when a choir of unfamiliar voices echo from the outside of the so-called « sanctuary » she was given a few hours earlier. To her, this assortment of fabrics and furs is no safe haven, especially not when she jumps so violently every time they start dancing with the wind. Still, she is in no position to complain : not only was she given permission to use this tent as hers even though it originally belongs to the one who brought her here, but the warriors roaming the campsite also respect the boundaries this shelter was made to provide, allowing her to hide from their curious eyes.

A part of her wishes she could stay under the covers and ignore her surroundings, act as if this is was nothing more than a dream. Yet she forces herself out of their warmth, the morning breeze leaving a trail of shivering kisses along her skin.

She barely has the time to put her heavy coat on that the sun suddenly sculpts a broad silhouette on the outside of the furs. It moves silently, with the confidence of a warrior, and her whole body tenses as the man stops before the entrance of her tent. He hovers for a second as she stands frozen in place, her breathing so low even she can barely feel it in her chest.

- Vænn ? You awake ?

It’s MacTavish, she realises, his deep timbre sending a wave of warmth down her spine ; a stark contrast to the violent shivers the sound of the nickname he gave her send crawling down her spine. Despite knowing that he is unable to see her, she can’t bring herself to move. Swallowing the knot tightening in her throat, she graces him with a hum, although it comes out much weaker than she originally intended.

- ‘Am about to go gather some wood. Wanna come with me ?

His tone is low, careful ; not unlike the kind one would use to coax a terrified little creature out of its shell. She can’t really decide if she likes the idea or not. In her eyes, this behaviour of his is way too human for a man like him, cursing the flame that sways in her chest at the prospect of accepting his offer. Her satchel lies against the wooden post standing in the middle of the tent, it’s empty stomach catching her gaze. It could be a good opportunity to gather some herbs for her decoctions, she thinks, and the rational part of her soul lights up at the idea of potentially being useful to her captors. MacTavish’s words from the day before echo in her mind.

Say yes next time someone asks if you’re a healer. You’ll live longer.

- Give me a minute, she finally says, the words grating against her tongue. Please.

- Gotcha. I’ll be waiting for you near the campfire.

It’s only when his shadow disappears that the tension finally lets go of her chest. One of her hands glides along her face, a sigh escaping through her fingers. The bed is neatly made before she covers herself in warm furs and sturdy leathers. She then takes a deep breath as she opens the entrance of the tent, rolling her shoulders to ease the stiffness in her muscles. The tremors seizing her body are not from the midgardian frost waiting for her outside ; but she decides to play pretend, holding her head high as she steps in the fresh morning snow. Sól greets her with a wintery kiss on her cheek, highlighting MacTavish’s figure in the distance. She marches towards him, forcing herself to ignore the curious stares of his companions.

Vænn. A catch. A prey. That is what she is in the eyes of those who see themselves as a pack of wolves, their fur covered in blood as they take whatever they want, destroying those who refuse to yield : nothing but a frail creature meant to follow their every word in order to stay alive. Soap has made his intentions of courting her clear, promising that no harm shall befall her while she lives among his peers ; but as he greets her with a smile, guiding her towards the forest with a hand on her back, she knows she cannot allow herself to be afraid. One wrong move, and she shall become nothing more than a meal to be shared in their den.

A frozen blade pierces her core as these thoughts dance in the back of her mind. The forest is peaceful, and they slowly carve their own path through its shimmering white coat. Her gaze roams her surroundings as MacTavish starts gathering a thick bundle of branches under his arm, looking for a patch of herbs to collect. Their eyes meet, causing him to send a smile in her direction before resuming his own search. The snow crunches heavily under his boots. Her attention flickers to the blade hanging from his hips, the iron of its handle glinting in the sun. She frowns as her mother’s voice echoes through her memories.

You are not safe, she says, and she can almost see her spectre glare at the warrior’s silhouette walking ahead of her.

You are not safe.

#cod x reader #x reader #call of duty x reader #fem!reader #cod au #cod mw2 #johnny soap mactavish #john soap mctavish x reader #viking au #viking!soap #soap x f!reader #soap mactavish x reader #soap mw3 #Ghoul I love this AU so much #thank you for sharing your brain with us

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slaybestieslay946 · 2 months

Note

can i request luke trying to get dionysus reader who’s close with their dad to join him and kronos? :3

thanks for your request! This one was kinda short coz i just focused on the scene where he tried to convince her, so i hoped i added enough like stuff about reader being close with her dad for your liking!

Betrayal

word count: 1100

pairing: luke castellan x dionysus!reader

warnings: angst! not a cute happy ending

MASTERLIST

You were woken up from your peaceful night's sleep by Annabeth Chase, standing by your bunk and shaking you quickly awake.

“You need to come with me.” She said sharply, her voice urgent.

“Wha- Annabeth? What are you doing here? What’s going on?” You asked, immediately concerned.

“There’s no time to explain right now, you just have to come with me.”

Of course, you trusted her implicitly. She was the little sister of your boyfriend, after all. And so, you immediately threw your cargo pants and camp t-shirt on, and followed her out of the Dionysus cabin.

It was only as she began to lead you into the forest at the edge of camp that you began to wonder what she had called you out for. Annabeth was smart, and no-nonsense, so you couldn’t imagine that it was some kind of dumb prank. And she seemed pretty on edge, her breathing and walking pace both faster than usual.

It could be something to do with Luke. He could be in trouble.

No, it couldn’t be. He could handle himself perfectly fine on his own, he was the best swordsman in 500 years. No, it must be something else.

You decided to probe her a bit further, “Annabeth?” You called softly.

“Yes?” She answered quickly, not halting her progress into the woods.

“If somethings wrong I can always wake up D, y’know? I know he can be kinda belligerent, but you won’t get in any trouble, I promise.” You bargained, hoping that if she was worried about getting told off, you wouldn’t get her back up.

And it was true, as much as your father was seen as kind of a scary asshole to the average camper, you knew him better than anyone, and the truth that he was honestly a good person. Probably the best of the Olympian parents.

After all, he had taken care of you your whole life, ever since you were dropped off here by your mother at the ripe age of 5. He was a lot more caring than most would normally expect.

“No.” She snapped, her voice anxious, “We can’t get him involved, not right now. Just come with me, ok? And stay quiet.”

You didn’t press her any further after that, staying silent for the remaining duration of your walk.

Soon, you began to hear voices coming from deeper in the forest, and then, the talking ceased, and all you could hear was the louder clashing of swords.

Annabeth grabbed hold of your hand to lead you closer, before donning her invisibility cap. You followed where she led you, a sinking feeling in your stomach growing more and more painful with each step you took.

And it all came to a head when Annabeth brought you to the edge of a clearing, where Luke and Percy were engaged in a not-so-friendly looking ‘spar’.

“What’s going on?” You whispered, although you weren’t sure who to.

“Luke, he’s…” She trailed off slightly.

“He’s what.” You asked, your voice suddenly cold.

“He stole the master bolt. He’s working with Kronos to overthrow the gods” She said, and her words were like an icy bucket of water being poured over your head.

“You’re joking.” You said, a strained laugh coming from your throat.

Annabeth didn’t reply. She was serious.

And suddenly his strange behaviours over the past few months made perfect sense. He’d been so secretive, so calculated. Like he had to carefully think out every word he said to you.

You whipped your head back to the two teenagers, and you were unable to stop yourself from dashing forward as you watched your boyfriend aim a particularly harsh blow at the 12 year old child.

“Luke! What the fucks going on?!” You yelled, your face contorted in a mixture of confusion, anger, and hope. Hope that you and Annabeth had misinterpreted everything.

But as Luke turned around to face you, his face torn with guilt, you knew she hadn’t. The daughter of Athena was right yet again.

“What are you doing here?” He breathed out, partly from the physical exertion of the fight, but you could tell he was also affected by seeing you here.

“You know why I’m here. Tell me it’s not true. Please, Luke.”

He hesitated for a moment, before beginning to try and plead with you, “Sweetheart, I’m sorry, just let me explain-”

“Explain?! There’s no explanation for this! You’ve betrayed us Luke, you’ve betrayed me.”

He paused again, seemingly stunned by your reaction, your willingness to condemn him.

“I would never betray you. I love you, you know that. The gods are the ones who betray us. I’m fixing things, returning things back to the way they should be. Don’t you want to be a part of that?”

You gaped at him in complete and utter shock, “D is the only one who has never betrayed me. And I know he’s one of the few godly parents who gives a shit, and I know the rest of them treat us like shit, but that doesn’t mean whatever you're doing is right!”

His face fell, and it was like he realised appealing to your logic hadn’t worked, so he tried your emotions.

“You said you’d follow me to the ends of the earth? What happened to that, huh? I thought you loved me?” Luke’s voice was strained, taut with emotion like he was trying not to cry.

“I didn’t think that would have to include following you into tartarus to resurrect a titan lord. And I do love you, but that doesn’t mean I agree with what you’re doing!”

“C’mon, we can talk about this. Just come with me, I can explain everything, you’ll understand if you just come with me and let me explain.” He pleaded, taking a few steps towards you.

You stepped back away from him, “No. I’m not going with you.” You said, trying to make your voice sound firm, but you were well aware of the way it wobbled slightly as you spoke.

He turned back to Percy, who was still lying on the ground watching the exchange, “Last chance, Jackson. Last chance.”

The 12-year old shook his head, his face harsh and cold against the boy he had once called a friend.

And then Luke was looking at you again, as if trying to memorise your face, before rushing towards a portal Backbiter had created for him.

Then he was gone. One of the few people you never thought would betray you was gone, never to return.

#fanfic #luke castellan x reader #percy jackson #writing #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo #luke castellan #x reader #ask #angst #sad ending

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walli3darl1ng · 1 year

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How would the welcome home crew react once they meet a nezuko like reader. Like they are having a late night walk and they stumble upon reader walking around with a box on her back. And by morning they find reader's box on top of a hill but no sign of reader, but then reader opens the box from inside revealing a smol reader inside🥺

Please make it as gender neutral as possible we can't make all the genders feel left out(including transgenders, non-binary, bigender etc.)

Stop! I love Nezuko 🥹

But honestly this is adorable I can’t! Here have a cookie for requesting 🍪

I hope I did a good job! I wrote this in the blazing sun waiting on my ride 🫠

When the weather allows it, the neighborhood would have a night walk in the woods. It’s so beautiful at night when you can see the starts and watch the fireflies flicker around. It’s so peaceful.

“Ow! Barnaby!”

“Oh, sorry, Sally!”

Well almost peaceful. This clear, full moon night the neighborhood thought it’s a wonderful night for a walk and while some talk to their friends others play on the sidewalk heading in the woods. Barnaby just so happen to see something and stop mid-hop on the hop scotch and Sally bumped into him.

Sally peaks around him to see what had him so invested for him to stop the train with her, Julie and Wally walking slowly behind to see you sitting on a medium size box looking up at the night sky.

Julie and Sally thought you’re absolutely stunning. The way the moonlight cast upon you making your eyes shine, the way your hair flows softly with the wind. Even with the bamboo in your mouth you look like you came out of a painting.

“Heya! Are you lost?” Barnaby calls out as he and the two girls follow, Wally quietly trailing behind.

You turn around and watch them carefully before shaking your head at his question.

Barnaby sees that you’re choosing to not speak so he tries to ask questions that you can answer him. “Do you know where you are?”

You shake your head then pointed to the box and the ground.

“This is harder then I thought..” Barnaby chuckles.

“I think they’re saying that they’re staying here for the time being? Right?” Julie asks resting her finger on her chin in thought.

You nod your head and clap your hands as a praise. This made her smile grow and her arms flapping about as she runs over. “You’re so cute!”

“How long have you’ve been staying here?” Wally holds Julie from tackling you by the collar of her dress. “I hope not long.”

You hum and then point at the moon and hold up two fingers, indicating you’ve seen the moon twice.

“Two nights?! Why haven’t you come to the neighborhood.” Sally gasps, she can only imagine how tired and hungry you must be right now. “Aren’t you hungry?”

“We are a long way from the neighborhood, Sally. They probably didn’t know the way.” Wally reassures the star with a smile.

“Wally! Barnaby!”

“Sally! Julie! C’mon time to head home!”

“That’s Frank and Poppy.” Julie answers looking at the direction of the voices. “We can’t let them find them!”

“Why not?”

“I think because they know Barnaby or Julie will hog them.” Wally answers Sally and laughs when he sees Barnaby whistling and Julie pouting at his accusation. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

“Guys! Let’s go! It’s late!”

“Wally don’t make me get you out that tree again!”

“It was one time, I learned my lesson.” Wally mumbles and takes Sally to head over to the overprotective duo. “C’mon then, we can come back tomorrow morning.”

You watch this all unfold with a curious glint. Your new friend are funny, but why can’t they stay with you? Nonetheless you let them leave, waving back.

Morning soon came and Wally, Barnaby, Sally and Julie wake everyone up and take them up the hill where they found their new interesting and adorable friend. Once there they were dissatisfied when they only found the box you were sitting on last night but not you. Did you leave? Did something happen? Are you hurt?

“Well, where are they?” Frank asks looking around to find you.

“Do you think they’re okay?” Poppy questions with worry.

“No they should be here, they couldn’t just run off.” Sally walks around the box and tilts her head when she hears soft snore inside the box. Then she moves to the front and knocks on the door.

“Sal, whatcha doing?”

“Maybe they’re inside, I hear something.” Everyone gathers around and sally opens the door and to say it was a cuteness overload is an understatement!

You’re small, maybe the size of a small child, curled up and sleeping, soft snores leaving you and holding a plush.

“My doll that went missing a few days ago!” Julie points out.

“Gosh, they’re so adorable!”

“Just look at their small hands!”

“Can i squeeze them?”

“Me first!”

The loud shouting wakes you up with a yawn, in the process making your bamboo mouth piece fall and reveal your small but noticeable fangs. You rubs your eyes and look up to see the whole crew looking down at you with heart eyes.

Let’s say you’re their precious little emotional support human.

#welcome home #welcome home wally #welcome home x reader #welcome home x you #welcome home barnaby #welcome home frank #welcome home poppy #welcome home howdy #welcome home sally #welcome home eddie #welcome home fanfic #welcome home julie

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wri0thesley · 2 years

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shakes my little can of ideas. Diluc who just reeeeally wants you, really needs you, and has such intense desire for you, that when he finally snaps and just holds you down and needs to feel every inch of you even though you're trying to push him off, beg him to stop please... but he just keeps muttering 'i'm sorry, i'm sorry, you're just too pretty i need you, i need you' Ugh. Delicious. Brought to you by a very weird dream of mine.

apologies - yandere diluc x reader (2.7k)

cw: NON-CON. very very explicitly non-con, this is kind of gross. afab reader with no pronouns or gendered terms used, although there are some vague allusions to courtship and reader wears a shift to sleep in. diluc is yandere and delusional and lovesick and apologises and minimises his actions a lot.

You have always considered Diluc Ragnvindr a gentleman.

He has always been polite to you; courteous, his face serious, his tone perfectly proper. Opening doors for you and offering you a free (non-alcoholic, naturally, as he could not be seen co-ercing anybody) drink at his tavern; when you had found yourself stranded in a sudden lightning storm close to Dawn Winery, you had not thought for one moment there would be any danger in knocking on the door of the manor and asking if you may wait it out.

“Of course you can,” Diluc had said, the very corners of his mouth turning up, his tone warm. “Stay the night, please - I couldn’t forgive myself if something were to happen to you traversing these roads, they’ll be waterlogged for days.”

As you had no retinue with you and no provisions for anything longer than a meandering walk (having found yourself lulled into a false sense of security by the glorious weather when you had set out from Springvale), you had been only too happy to take up the offer. It had been a civil, polite affair - Diluc and you warming yourselves by the fire, polite questions about the wellbeing of your family, a compliment on the way the colour of your clothing today complimented your hair and your eye--

Of course, you know Diluc is not often prone to compliments - and perhaps you had preened a little at the sweet words from him, had imagined what it would be like to be the betrothed and adored of the most eligible bachelor in Mondstadt.

But that was all it had been.

Imagination.

The heavy form on top of you now is most certainly not your imagination.

“You couldn’t sleep either?” Diluc breathes against your ear, his weight pinning you down into feather-soft mattress, heat radiating from him. “You were just so close, I couldn’t help myself--”

You had been shown to a luxurious guest room just down the hall from the quarters that Diluc himself commandeered as his own; a pretty maid showing you the adjoining bathroom, bobbing you a curtsey and telling you that you were an esteemed guest and to please feel free to use anything that you found in the room or to tug at the bell pull if you needed anything. She had even procured for you a thin white cotton shift from the maid’s clean laundry that just about fitted you, though you couldn’t help but feel a little exposed in it - you had thanked her effusively, knowing Diluc certainly did not need to go to all of this trouble for you.

You wonder what the maid would do, now, if you somehow shoved the master of the house off of you and managed to pull the bell to alert them to the need for assistance.

You couldn’t sleep because the downy soft pillows beneath your head were too soft, the scent of expensive cedar wood and apples that pervade the winery too unfamiliar, the cotton against your bare thighs different to your own ordinary night things - but Diluc, you realise, thinks you have been waiting for him.

You make a token attempt to struggle underneath his weight, your voice coming out a soft and reedy thing;

“M-Master Diluc, I’m flattered, but--”

A hot mouth finds your jawline; trails kisses from your ear to your throat. Fingers tug at the blanket covering you.

“You’re so pretty,” Diluc says, breathless. “I’m sorry, I can’t help myself--”

You squeak aloud as a big, bare hand lands on your thigh and slides up - searing heat from Diluc’s scarred, calloused palm leaving what you’re sure must be a visible trail. You struggle underneath him, fear suddenly feeling sharp and sour in your throat.

“D-don’t!” You practically squeak it out, feeling tears rise to your eyes as you realise fully how hopeless the situation is - as the feel of Diluc’s fingers parting your legs reminds you of how much stronger he is than you, how much broader, how much more important he is in the grand scheme of all things.

“I’ve wanted you for months,” he says. “Y-you’ve driven me mad, I need you--”

You would never have guessed. You try and think back to all of the other times that you’ve seen Diluc since then; try to remember if he had seemed particularly out of sorts - but your mind comes up blank. He has never seemed particularly sweet on you compared to anyone else.

(You don’t know, of course, of the nights he’s spent with a fist curled around his cock and his teeth digging into his pillow to the thought of how soft you would be beneath him, how lovely you would look all helpless and bare for him).

“D-Diluc,” you plead. “Please! W-we can court, I promise - we can g-go to concerts, and on walks, just please d-don’t--”

You cry out again as Diluc grunts against your ear, as you feel him shift and feel the unmistakable heavy heat of something between his legs digging into your bare thigh. He’s pulling up your shift, now - the blankets pulled down, the air cloyingly warm as it hits your newly freed skin.

(Does all air that swirls about Diluc turn warm? Or is he simply particularly emotional right now? You do not like either thought).

“You’re so pretty,” he repeats. “I can’t wait.”

You make another token attempt to struggle away beneath him - your hips wriggling, your mouth opening to cry out once more, your shoulders shaking from side to side as tears finally do spill down your cheeks.

Diluc stops you from screaming for help with a forceful kiss.

“Don’t,” he says against your lips, so vulnerably tender it makes you feel sick. “I love you--”

You want to snap at him. You want to tell him this is not love - if it were, you wouldn’t be struggling, wouldn’t be fighting, wouldn’t be crying with your heart beating like a wounded animal - but there is nothing you can say as he muffles your protests with his mouth, as his teeth tug at your bottom lip and his tongue slips into your mouth like a thief in the night and drinks you in.

Your hands are terribly ineffectual as you push at his broad shoulders. There is nothing you can do but lay beneath him and take it, even as one of his hands slides up your bare stomach and suddenly he is cupping your breast, fingers sliding over your nipple.

“So pretty,” he repeats, breaking the kiss, looking down at you with those crimson wine-dark eyes. “Don’t cry--”

“Stop it,” you tell him, brokenly, but it does not. Instead, his brows simply draw in.

“I need you,” he repeats, as if this makes it okay. And then, horrifyingly; “Please, let me . . . I’m sorry--”

Your throat is too dry to try screaming again. You have heard tell, before, that when someone is truly terrified they simply lose the ability to create sound - they try to scream, but no sound comes out. That is almost how it feels for you. You are frozen as he dips his head down, as he lathes his hot tongue over your nipples until they are hard and peaking under his ministrations. You want to scream - but nothing comes out except shallow gasps of breath.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, even as your shift has been pushed to your collarbones and your entire body is free to be drunk in by his adoring, sickeningly loving gaze. “Archons, you’re beautiful.”

You grow terribly used to his apologies.

Your throat lets you emit a high-pitched whimper as he parts your thighs - as one of those hot, calloused hands slips between them, to tease at the seam between your legs.

“Please,” Diluc is saying. “I’m sorry, please, you’re so pretty, I need to feel you,” he is saying, as one of his fingers slips between the lips of your sex to tease at your clit. “I don’t want to hurt you--”

Your hips squirm beneath him, trying to escape from the onslaught of his fingers over your pleasure point, but it is to no avail when his figure is so oppressively heavy on top of yours and your legs are spread apart with such strength. You suck in a pained breath as one of his fingers slips inside of you, coaxing wetness from you quite against your will.

Diluc kisses your cheeks where the tears have wetted them; murmurs more apologies in between heavy breaths that you know are of arousal. His thumb rubs over your clit instead, as his lone finger pumps in and out, trying to make sure you’re wet enough to take him.

That feeling - that calloused thumb, the rhythm of his heavy breathing and the soft whispers of how beautiful you are - they all leave you feeling confused underneath him as a hundred thoughts and feelings and sensations all swirl around in your head.

(At least it is not his mouth), you think, as his thumb continues to tease pleasurable sparks from your clit. You do not know if you could handle looking down and seeing those crimson locks of hair between your thighs, deal with the thought of his tongue traversing the same plane that his fingers are.

“You feel so good,” Diluc mumbles, kissing across your neck, your collarbone, messy. “You’re so lovely . . . mine . . . you’re mine--”

Fingers curled just so, thumb rubbing at just the right angle with just the right pressure - and your orgasm sneaks up on you like a bandit ambush, as your hips thrust in surprise and you let out a whimper of pleasure-confusion, not understanding how this could be happening and still feel so good.

“That’s right,” Diluc breathes. “So good, so pretty . . . Ugh, I’m sorry, can’t hold it in any longer--”

He shifts whilst his fingers are still moving jerkily inside of you, little shivers of your retreating orgasm making you feel light-headed and confused. Something nudges between your thighs, slick and thick and hard.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes, one more time, “I can’t help myself,” - and then, Diluc Ragnvindr is gently forcing his cock inside of your wet, yielding body.

He moves inside of you slowly, letting you get used to the stretch of him, caging you beneath him with strong arms either side of your head. The gaze that he keeps on you, though, never fades from anything other than adoring. He’s utterly besotted, you realise. He’s lovesick for you, and there’s nothing you can do right now but take the thrust of his cock as he slowly pumps it in and out.

“So beautiful,” he’s saying. “I’m sorry, I just couldn’t help myself--”

The planes of his abdomen rub against your already-swollen and sore clit.

. . . Would it be so bad? You’ve come for him once; and he is handsome and strong and he keeps telling you that he loves you . . . if there is no escape, why should you not simply melt into it? Surely nobody would think ill of you for giving in, when the stretch of his cock is making your thighs twitch and warmth sparkle in your stomach.

Diluc kisses you again, mumbles about how much he needs you - and instead of staying slack-mouthed beneath him, you hesitantly mouth back at his lips. Diluc groans, his eyelashes fluttering in pleasure.

His hips speed up. He’s still not rough with you - you think, from the uncoordinated slap of his hips and the mumbles and the dusting of flushed red on his cheeks that he has little experience - but he certainly becomes more enthusiastic.

“I knew you’d understand,” he slurs, pulling back before he peppers your cheeks and nose with more of them. “I knew-- we were meant to be together, darling, angel, pretty thing--”

A whimper-moan escapes your mouth unbidden and Diluc groans like he has just heard the music that angels play in Celestia. You force yourself to stop thinking of the series of events that lead you here. You force yourself to forget that he is fucking you against your will, that you protested him pushing his cock inside of you and cried as Diluc made excuses about how you were just too pretty to resist and he needed you so badly - and instead, you concentrate on the warm heat of being stretched open.

. . . It does feel good.

You hate that it feels good, but you are not willing to lie to yourself - and if you are here, if you have no choice . . . perhaps you ought to simply let yourself melt into it.

Your hands fly up to cling to Diluc’s broad shoulders - surprise flitters across his expression, but it’s quickly replaced by that adoration that is so thick you feel it settle in your bone marrow.

“You feel so good,” he mumbles. “‘M sorry, ‘m getting carried away--”

It doesn’t matter, you tell yourself. It doesn’t matter, as he begins to increase in speed and a soft moan escapes your mouth. It doesn’t matter how wet the sound of him driving in and out of you is, when you can simply concentrate on the flares of pleasure that are sparking in your lower stomach with every thrust.

The pace increases - but all you do is sigh, arch your back, and let it.

Diluc keeps murmuring apologies interspersed with compliments interspersed with justification - I’m sorry you’re beautiful I needed to do this I’m sorry you’re so so pretty I needed to feel you I needed to have you I’m sorry I’m sorry - but you banish those, too, to a different part of your mind. You concentrate only on the thrust and the pull and the push.

The emptiness contrasted with the fullness, the pleasure points inside of you that Diluc finds with every cant of his hips. His mumbles become nothing more than background noise as the complicated cat’s-cradle of strings inside of you are pulled and manipulated, so taut that any of them could snap at any moment.

And then they do.

And pleasure washes over you anew.

You feel yourself come for him as his cock twitches inside of you; your body pulsing and spasming around him even as warmth fills your insides and Diluc comes, crowding your sex with his seed. Your thighs tremble in response as he grinds into you, eking out the very last drops of both of your orgasms.

(You force yourself not to think of how you came for him, and the shame therein; you made the best of a bad situation, you force yourself to say, even though the glow of two peaks has settled about you and warmed your cheeks and made you breathless).

“You’re beautiful,” he rumbles again, as he pulls out - as his seed drips from your stretched hole, staining the sheets. His hand moves from caging you in - flitters nervously beside your cheeks, before he cups the soft skin and pulls you into another kiss.

You kiss him back in surprise. What else can you do?

“I love you,” Diluc says to you, simply, when the kiss ends - as if he hasn’t just taken something precious and intimate from you. “I know I should have waited . . . but having you here, beneath my roof, how pretty you looked all soaked from the rain . . . you understand, don’t you?” His fingers dig harder into your cheek. “You still love me, don’t you?”

You have never loved Diluc Ragnvindr.

You have never cared about him more than on a surface level; the pleasure of being flirted with by such a well-known, well-regarded figure, and the romantic daydream of being snatched away from a humdrum life by the lord of the manor. But Diluc is staring at you with something that you think is need writ clear in his eyes, and . . .

And you think about Monstadt.

You think of how they adore him; of all of the other people who would kill to be in your place, who wouldn’t have swallowed back tears as the most handsome and eligible man in the nation made love to them. You think of how easy it would be, for Diluc to ruin your reputation - for him to say that you seduced him into this, to pull sad faces and pass on whispers until you were fair run out of town. For Diluc to make you unimportant, to turn everyone you knew against you and make himself the victim of all this, spreading whispers about how cruel you are to spread rumours he would do something so heinous--

“I love you,” you choke out.

And Diluc smiles at you, bright like the moon, and you think that he never expected you to say anything but.

#non con cw #non-con cw #yandere diluc #not sfw #genshin impact posting #writing #yandere for ts #dark content for ts #dead dove do not eat #yandere genshin impact

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meadowfairiess · 1 year

Text

- Kiss Me Again

pairings: wednesday addams x reader

warnings: mentions of injury and blood, kissing

word count: 770 words

requested by: anon

a/n: i haven’t written anything in a while so apologies if this is bad lmao

A painfully loud yelp distracted you from your book, reading under a withering tree in the middle of the woods probably isn’t the most practical or safest of places to be indulging in a book but it's quiet, well it was until someone decided to disturb your peace and quiet

Getting up from your spot on the ground and dusting off your pants, you begin to look around trying to locate where the noise came from. Usually, when people hear a scream or a yelp in the middle of dull-looking woods they would about turn and run the other way. Your inner detective kicks in almost immediately and so you begin to walk around the uneven ground, careful not to trip over any fallen trees or branches

Small whimpers could be heard from your left as you walked forwards, turning your head to find Pugsley on the ground, bloody scratches on his face and leg, and in front of him was a… púca. You stare at the creature as it stares back before running off further into the woods

Pugsley's whimpers brought back your attention and the púca had run off. Pugsley spoke up, his voice shaky and audibly panicky as he began to tear up

“What was that?!” he gasped, looking up at you from the cold ground

“A Púca” you replied, your voice flat.

“A what?!”

“Pugsley stop yelling, it’s just a small creature, however, I do wonder why it is here of all places…” you began to ponder, becoming distracted once again in your own thoughts

“And what are you doing out here anyways? Surely you should be receiving some kind of torture from your sister?” You asked, leaning down to help the bleeding on the small boy’s thigh

“I thought I could hear you laughing-”

You cut him off with an unamused look, “Seriously?”

“Now that I think about it, you wouldn’t be laughing… you never do”

There was a pause as you hummed in agreement, still trying to contain the bleeding coming from the boy’s leg

Pugsley continued, “That's why Wednesday-” You cut him off again

“You should shut up if you want to live. I’m going to wrap my scarf around your leg to stop the bleeding”

Pugsley looked down at his leg in horror, “that's a lot of blood… y/n…”

“What is it now?”

“I think I’m going to pass out”

You looked up at Pugsley, a serious look on your face

“Don’t you dare pass out on me, or I will kill you slowly and painfully. Now get up”

“I can’t walk on my leg, it hurts too much”

Pugsley grimaced at the unamused look on your face, you sighed with annoyance, bending down for him to get on your back

“Fine, get on my back and do not tell anyone this ever happened, you hear me? Or I will actually hurt you”

“Where have you two been?”

Wednesday nearly scared the living devil out of you, appearing from the shadows of the Addams' front entrance

“I had to carry your stupid brother home, he hurt himself. Pugsley get off now” You told him

He got down and quickly scurried off in the direction of the bedrooms

There was a moment of silence as both Wednesday and yourself watched the boy limp away, Wednesday smirking in amusement watching him

“Thank you… for helping him” you heard Wednesday mumble

“Did-did you just say thank you?” you teased her

“Did I?” She shot back

“Hm, I think you did”

“Shut up”

“Or what? Are you going to gouge my eyeballs out?... Because we both know you would ne-” You rambled, eyes shooting wide when you were cut off by a pair of lips meeting yours

You both pulled away at the sound of snickering, looking up to see Pugsley crouched down in between the railings, he was quick to stop when he noticed the glares from you and Wednesday, and he ran back to what you assume was his room

Once again both you and Wednesday are left in silence, “Why’d you do that?” you asked in confusion

“Not that I’m complaining I just-” you trailed off as she stared at you

“Because you wouldn’t shut up” She replied with a shrug, making you let out a small laugh as your gaze shifted down to your feet

You pull your head back up to look at her, “Kiss me again, but don’t stop this time”

And you swear, for just a split moment, you could see the sides of her mouth lift in an almost smile as she reached for you once more

if you’d like to be tagged in any future wednesday x reader posts, click here! (or just DM me)

#wednesday netflix #wednesday addams #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday imagine #wednesday addams imagine #wednesday oneshot #wednesday addams oneshot #wednesday x you #wednesday x y/n #wednesday series

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kivino · 8 months

Text

FANTASY AU WITH VALERIA!

Word Counter - ~900 words.

Summary – self-indulgent thoughts with Rogue!Valeria in a fantasy setting!

Tags/Warnings – very much Dragon Age coded, reader is a mage/healer, mentions of blood and injury, this is very corny™, gn!reader.

A/n – wrote it almost in one go, very sorry if someone already did something like this! I originally planned for my first writing post to be Graves fanfiction that I’m working on right now, but I just couldn’t contain myself, lololol

Rogue!Valeria who stumbles into your clinic one moonlit night while running away from the city guard, hands clawing at her side, blood seeping through the delicate fabric of her shirt and vest, slipping in and out of consciousness, as she tries to hold onto the cold walls that smelled of medicine and herbs.

Rogue!Valeria who made so much noise and racket downstairs that it woke you up better than any of your assistants could. You fly out of your bed, covers and colorful duvets trailing behind you in a stream of fabric, long forgotten on the floor of your bedroom as you run down the stairs, in fear that somebody broke into your clinic, no patients of yours were staying overnight today. Any words that could’ve been said evaporate as you see a woman, bleeding out on the floor, back propped up against the counter, and…are those daggers she is carrying?

Rogue!Valeria who wakes up the next morning in someone else’s bed, her wound freshly bandaged, hot breakfast already prepared for her. And at that moment she thinks she must’ve died and gone to the Fade. Where else would she see a spirit as beautiful as you?

Rogue!Valeria who tried her best to leave this quiet haven, full of smells, colors, and so many things unknown to her (she’s no mage after all), but she just can’t, throbbing pain in her abdomen stopping her the moment she even tries to stand up among the quiet murmurs of your patients and their relatives. You throw her a stern look, and she is immediately pinned to the soft sheets like her body is not her own.

Rogue!Valeria who finally has a chance to talk to you once it’s time to change the bandages on her wound. You sit near her, your voice quiet, asking “May I?”, as you delicately remove the covers. Valeria asks if you can speed up the recovery, seeing what a miracle worker you were, treating the patients all day with the help of not only healing salves, herbs, and potions but also magic. And you decide to grant her request, hands gliding along the surface of her skin, Valeria’s stab wound slowly closing and a delicate, light scar forming. She doesn’t know how much that takes out of you until your assistant helps you walk back to your room to get much-needed rest. Her eyes lingered on your fatigued figure as her fingers keep poking and prodding at the thin skin of her new scar, feeling something warm spark inside her.

Rogue!Valeria whose gang starts protecting you. Thieves know better than to try picking any of the locks on your doors, signs carved on the worn wood by her informing them that this place is off-limits.

Rogue!Valeria who sneaks through your backdoor, knowing you always forget to lock it, seeing you sleeping on another book, laid out under your arms. She wraps you in a soft blanket, pressing her finger against her lips when she sees awake patients or assistants eyeing you two.

Rogue!Valeria who leaves the flowers she picked from the gardens of her rich targets on your windowsill, petals ruffled and worn, former beauty still recognizable. Instead of putting those flowers in the water you dry and preserve every single one of them, with time gathering small bouquets that greet you each morning around your clinic. When she visits “officially”, she asks about them and you just say that you have no idea who leaves the flowers, mischief tugging at the corners of your eyes. Valeria only grins in response. “Is that so? You must have a lot of suitors then.”

Rogue!Valeria who always leaves some of her things behind just to have an excuse to visit you again, to see you at work, to hear your laughter, and to feel your hand shake her own in a warm greeting. Each time she gets bolder, and instead of a small satchel or a dagger, you start finding her jewelry and accessories. When did she have the chance to take them off anyway?

Rogue!Valeria who drags you to the market during fairs, insisting that you need to have some fun once in a while, as she leads you between a variety of stalls, her heart squeezing harshly against her ribs each time your fingers tighten around her hand.

Rogue!Valeria who ends up hiding with you in a narrow alleyway, hiding from the city guard that patrolled the festival grounds. She looks you in the eyes, trying to make sure you’re okay, and shoots you a sly wink, caging you between her body and the wall. She feels her breathing get quicker with each second spent like this, but you two are soon taken out of it when small sparks of fire shoot out of your fingers. Too agitated to control your magic, you get flustered, not sure why you were getting nervous in the first place. But when you hear Valeria let out a hearty laugh from your sudden supernatural outburst, everything starts to make sense.

Rogue!Valeria who never mutters a single word about her quickly developing feelings. It would complicate things. It would spoil your friendship. It would tie her down, it would cause her to become slow and eventually sink, taking you with her. Yet she couldn’t let you go. Not when her heart ached with such sweet foretaste each time she saw you running to her with your arms open. Not when her thoughts inevitably drifted to you each time she was preparing to raid another lazy lord’s manor. Not when her days already started to center around visits to your small clinic, during which you constantly looked at her with that contagious light in your eyes.

taglist - @mockerycrow @stridersdiner

check out my masterlist for more fics or send me a request!

#cod mw2 #cod mwii #valeria mw2 #valeria garza x reader #cod #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #mw2 x reader #cod mw2 x reader

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lesbiankimdahyun · 9 months

Text

Road trip

2.7K words

Requested: Yes

CW: A/B/O dynamics, GP, exhibitionism

[Alpha!Tzuyu x Alpha!Sana]

Their weeklong getaway had been nothing short of perfection. Away in the woods, Sana and Tzuyu enjoyed the privacy and quality time that came with staying in a small cottage near one of the most scenic lakes in the area.

But the morning they were due to drive back home, Tzuyu awoke early. As she blinked, coming out of her sleep haze, she knew she was in trouble. Her rut was early– she could feel its onset, and it was going to hit in full force soon.

She woke Sana, who immediately took in the other Alpha’s strengthened scent as she sat up in bed.

“Oh wow,” Sana murmured, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. “Do you…want me to…?” she glanced down at the morning wood in Tzuyu’s boxers, a playful smile forming on her lips.

Tzuyu groaned. “Yes, but no.” Sana watched as the taller Alpha got up and started getting ready. “Maybe if we get on the road fast enough, we can make it home before I…” Tzuyu trailed off, looking down at her own body.

Sana pouted. “What’s the rush? We don’t have to check out for a few hours,” she said. “We could probably stay and-”

“I- I can’t do ‘probably’,” Tzuyu said, soft but firm. “Besides, we’re both Alphas. We can’t afford to have both of us in a rut in public.”

That got Sana’s attention, and she quickly got up to start packing her things. As much as she wanted to take care of Tzuyu now, she knew the younger Alpha was right.

With her rut on its way, Tzuyu was not only a ticking time bomb for herself, but for Sana too. Any other Omegas they came into contact with, be it at a gas station or restaurant on the way home, would be all over Tzuyu within minutes once they smelled her. And if she accidentally triggered Sana’s rut and both of them were only thinking with their dicks…it was just too risky.

A short while later, their bags were packed and they left their lakeside oasis. Their first stops were to grab coffees to go and fill up on gas, and then they hit the road.

The first several miles were quieter than normal. Sana could not only smell Tzuyu’s increasing arousal, she could sense her nervousness about being far from the safety of home during such a vulnerable time. Normally the pair would be settling in at Tzuyu’s place for the intensity of the first forty eight hours of her rut, but they were still multiple postal codes away from being able to do that.

Tzuyu was trying very hard to keep her thoughts on anything but her pretty Alpha partner and the growing erection in her pants, but as time went by, it became increasingly difficult.

All of the Taiwanese Alpha’s senses were heightened. When Sana casually flipped her hair from one shoulder to the other, her scent hit Tzuyu like a pile of bricks.

Sana’s scent was comforting and alluring. It was a combination that normally was welcomed, but had suddenly become nerve-wracking given the circumstances.

Everything in her told her to just keep looking out the window, but Tzuyu couldn’t help herself. She peeked over at Sana.

She looks even prettier now than she did this morning, Tzuyu thought. But then again, Sana always looked extra enticing when Tzuyu was rutting. An Alpha/Alpha pair wasn’t very common to come by, but Tzuyu wouldn’t trade Sana for any Omega in the world. Her eyes wandered over Sana without shame now: her big, pretty eyes, her cute nose, her delicate hands and the way they casually held the steering wheel. Those hands would look much better, Tzuyu thought, if they were working their way up and down the length of–

“Tzu? You okay?” Sana’s sweet voice interrupted her thoughts.

“Hm? Oh, y-yeah,” Tzuyu replied quickly, adjusting her position so she was facing her window instead of Sana.

“But– how much farther?” Tzuyu asked. She was scanning the sky desperately for unique shapes in the clouds, or any signs of wildlife in the fields outside her window.

One time, Sana, Tzuyu and a few friends of theirs had driven along a similar route for a healing weekend away. Sana and the others teased Tzuyu, trying to convince her that marshmallows grew in the fields they drove past. Her older friends loved to tease her, she was too cute to resist. Tzuyu normally smiled when looking back on that memory, but in this moment, she just felt restless.

“We’re like 90 minutes out,” Sana said, glancing at their GPS. She reached to give Tzuyu’s thigh a reassuring squeeze, but then thought better of it. “You can keep eye fucking me if it helps,” she said, a proud smile on her face as she flipped her hair teasingly.

Tzuyu blushed. “Sana!”

Sana giggled, giving Tzuyu’s knee a gentle pat while never taking her eyes off the road. “I mean it,” she said. “I like it when you look at me like that.”

Tzuyu swallowed thickly. Her Alpha instincts were really starting to push their way to the front of her mind now. All Sana had done was pat her leg, and yet her cock twitched, making her squirm.

Sana inhaled deeply from her side of the car, lightly drumming her fingers on the steering wheel. “But before you go back to eyeing me,” she cleared her throat quickly, “I think I’m gonna need to roll down a window…or two.”

Filthy thoughts flooded Tzuyu’s brain when she heard that, and this time, she entertained them. Nothing was more satisfactory than turning another Alpha on, especially one as stunning as Sana. Tzuyu couldn’t help herself. She glanced down at Sana’s lap and immediately bit her lip. Seeing a light imprint from Sana’s hardening cock beneath her skirt made Tzuyu’s cock throb.

The windows were down now, but even with more air flowing to disperse some of Tzuyu’s powerful scent, the two still shifted uncomfortably as they continued the drive.

Sana didn’t know how the other Alpha was holding it together so well. They were so different in that regard: Tzuyu constantly wrestled and fought against her most animalistic Alpha urges, while Sana openly embraced hers. Sana hated taking suppressants, only taking them when absolutely necessary, whereas Tzuyu preferred to be on them most of the time, only allowing herself to rut three or four times a year. Tzuyu was more than happy to be Sana’s personal stress and rut reliever, but Sana secretly relished the rare occasions when Tzuyu came completely undone, desperate to spill herself into Sana again and again.

“Can we pull over somewhere?”

It was Sana, not Tzuyu, who couldn’t stand it any longer (although Tzuyu had been trying to work up the courage to ask the same question for the last five minutes).

Tzuyu nodded eagerly, and Sana handed her phone to Tzuyu to change their route.

“Remember that cute park reserve we stumbled upon when we were looking for a spot to eat lunch on the way up here?” Sana asked.

It was all the information Tzuyu needed to reroute them.

The park was mostly deserted when they pulled up. Threatening gray clouds in the distance had kept the majority of folks away for the day.

Tzuyu’s heart raced as they parked. She was uncomfortably warm and her painfully hard cock was leaking precum, but she still couldn’t believe she was so desperate to cum that she was willing to allow Sana to pull over so they could fuck outside.

As soon as Sana locked the SUV, she took Tzuyu by the hand and started leading her.

“C’mere, away from the picnic area,” she said softly.

They went further and further into the woods, away from the main trails, but the more Tzuyu’s heart raced, the more excited she got. And the more excited she got, the harder her cock throbbed. Her patience finally ran out.

“Sana,” she said hoarsely, stopping in her tracks. Sana turned, but before she could say anything, Tzuyu gently pressed the shorter Alpha up against a tree and kissed her.

Sana let out a soft moan against Tzuyu’s lips, deepening the kiss and reaching for Tzuyu’s hands to place them on her waist. The young Alpha’s scent was intoxicatingly strong now, but Sana hesitated for a moment, remembering where they were.

“Are you sure?” she asked softly.

Tzuyu half groaned, half growled as her hands wandered beneath Sana’s shirt.

“I can’t wait anymore,” Tzuyu said, rubbing herself against the other Alpha. “Need you now.” She tilted her head, pressing a kiss against Sana’s neck.

Sana could only hum in response, reaching for Tzuyu’s pants to free her cock as Tzuyu removed her jacket, too warm to need it anymore.

“Wait, I think I can put that to good use,” Sana purred, gently nudging Tzuyu’s bomber jacket closer to her so she could sink down onto it as she got on her knees.

Tzuyu moaned at the sheer sight of Sana on her knees for her, giving her length a few quick pumps in her hand before letting Sana move in.

Sana’s first few kitten licks were as torturous as they were pleasurable. Tzuyu leaned back against a tree, trying not to selfishly thrust into Sana’s eager mouth.

Sana’s mouth was warm and wet, and the way her tongue swirled around Tzuyu’s tip made the tall Alpha whine. Just as Sana started to take Tzuyu’s full length down her throat, she felt Tzuyu’s cock twitch. Her mouth was suddenly filled with cum. Sana gagged a little, unprepared for Tzuyu’s first load so soon. She swallowed as much as she could, but some spilled out of her mouth. As Tzuyu slid her cock out, Sana’s lips made a light pop sound, her lips wet with drool and cum.

Despite having just cum,Tzuyu was still rock hard. Her refractory period was nearly nonexistent now that she was fully rutting and her cock was finally being serviced.

“Fuck,” Tzuyu murmured, watching the mixture of wetness drip from Sana’s lips.

She gently took Sana’s face in her hand and tapped her mouth to get her to open up again.

Sana eagerly took Tzuyu back into her mouth, enjoying the feeling of Tzuyu becoming a bit harsher this time as she held Sana’s head still so she could thrust into her throat.

The older girl let out a muffled moan as she sucked Tzuyu off. As Sana got her throat stretched, she dipped a hand beneath her skirt, unable to ignore her own aching cock.

Watching Sana’s hand slowly stroke her own cock while continuing to blow her was too much for Tzuyu. The rutting Alpha couldn’t hold back even if she tried. Before she knew it, she was coming again, spilling into Sana’s throat with a grunt. Overwhelmed with pleasure, Tzuyu brought the older girl’s mouth to the base of her cock before releasing her.

Sana gasped lightly when she could finally come up for air, tears at the corners of her eyes. As she caught her breath, the older girl glanced around their surroundings. Sensing no passerby near them, she gave Tzuyu a devilish smile and stood. “C’mere baby,” she husked, drawing Tzuyu closer to her. “Fill me up, I know you need to.”

Sana’s words alone nearly made Tzuyu’s knees buckle. She pulled Sana in to kiss her as one hand warmed up Sana’s ass. In her other hand, Tzuyu held her cock, still wet from Sana’s mouth. While they kissed, the only other sounds in the woods were from the two Alphas running their palms over their leaking cockheads, the quiet sound of slick adding to the soundtrack of nature sounds surrounding them.

Both Alphas had to stifle moans as Tzuyu finally slid into Sana, stuffing her to the brim.

Needing more, Tzuyu flipped Sana’s skirt up and gripped her waist, gently pulling her back over her thick cock as she bottomed out inside of her.

Sana whimpered, struggling to stay upright. To make her more comfortable, Tzuyu rearranged the two of them so Sana was against the tree and would have something to hold onto as Tzuyu started to pound her.

The repetitive sound of skin on skin mixed with the Alphas’ light panting quickly filled the air. If anyone was nearby, the sounds would be unmistakable for anything other than a rough outdoor breeding.

“F-fuck,” Sana whispered, her head tilting back a bit as Tzuyu had her way with her. Tzuyu snaked one hand up Sana’s body, eventually wrapping her fingers lightly over the other Alpha’s neck. Her other hand still held tightly onto Sana’s hip so she could keep her steady while pounding her.

Fucking outdoors wasn’t something Tzuyu would normally go for even in her wildest dreams, but now she couldn’t be bothered by the threat of being seen. Sana’s tight hole felt too good around her aching cock to stop. Her primal urge to breed the Alpha was stronger than her own self consciousness.

“Tzu-ah!-Tzuyu,” Sana moaned. She released her own cock from her hand as Tzuyu continued to pound her. “G-gonna come..”

Tzuyu growled lowly, removing her hand from Sana’s throat so she could hold both of Sana’s hands behind her back. She knew her girlfriend was capable of coming without being touched, and sure enough, a few thrusts later, Sana let out a cry as ropes of cum began to spill from her cock.

Tzuyu’s jacket was ruined with Sana’s cum now, but she didn’t care in the slightest. She pressed herself against Sana, thrusting into her a few more times before coming too, letting out a moan as she emptied herself into Sana.

“Look at you,” Sana cooed, catching her breath. That was Tzuyu’s third load, but she knew they wouldn’t be able to leave just yet. “So desperate to cum, aren’t you?”

“You feel too good,” Tzuyu said breathlessly, her cock still buried in Sana’s ass. She thrust slowly into the Alpha, pushing her cum deeper inside. “Need more,” she murmured.

“Take what you need, baby,” Sana said, and Tzuyu ran with it.

Tzuyu backed up a bit, her cock still inside of Sana. Gently, she forced Sana to bend over more and nudged her legs further apart.

It was a beautiful angle from Tzuyu’s perspective. The Alpha took off again, desperate to breed Sana again.

One more load soon turned into two. Sana was near ruined now, barely able to keep upright even with the support of surrounding trees and boulders whenever they switched positions. She whimpered as Tzuyu panted in her ear, about to turn two loads into three.

With a particularly powerful thrust, Tzuyu slipped her knot inside of Sana, making the older girl cry out and whine.

“Knot me,” Sana begged, tears threatening to fall, “Please Tzuyu, I-, oh fuck-”

“S-Sana..!” Tzuyu’s eyes screwed shut as she came, giving Sana exactly what she wanted and knotting her. Both of them cried out and Sana came again as she felt Tzuyu empty herself inside of her once again.

While Sana caught her breath, Tzuyu leaned in, feeling extra possessive suddenly now that she’d knotted her Alpha. She lapped up Sana’s tears from her cheek and then moved lower to scent her around her neck.

Sana practically purred with delight. Rutting Tzuyu was sexy, and protective, post-knot Tzuyu was just as irresistible.

Now that she temporarily had her wits about her again, Tzuyu couldn’t believe she had just knotted her girlfriend outside. Normally it took a while for Tzuyu to be able to pull out of Sana after knotting, but this time she didn’t have to wait long, possibly due to being a bit anxious about her surroundings.

She helped Sana put herself back together, feeling renewed admiration for the olderJapanese girl.

When they were sure the coast was clear, they went back onto the main trails and made their way back to the car, holding hands the whole way.

“Think you’ll be okay for the rest of the trip?” Sana asked, pressing herself up against Tzuyu, who was leaning on the passenger side door.

Tzuyu smiled, pulling Sana close to kiss her forehead. “Yes,” she said. “But you’re mine again as soon as we get home.”

#twice imagines #twice a/b/o #twice smut #sana x tzuyu #twice omegaverse

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talialovesmiw · 2 months

Text

Chris Motionless x Reader

Shades Of Purple

Part 7: Thistle

Warnings: Violence, fighting, blood and the consumption of it, Language, angst, some fluff, mention of Ronnie Radke.

Taglist: @skulliecadaver-blog @witchyweeb34 @cookiesupplier @raydenrrobertson @sakuracyberhex @beaker1636 @lyschko666 @black-damask1999 @synthetic-wasp-570 @jilliemiw86 @tearfallpixie @vinyardmauro @thatchickwiththecamera @bloody-delusion-expert @th0ughts-pr4yers @zuberweirrd @bxrnthyfears

Part 8: https://www.tumblr.com/talialovesmiw/745320815873114112/shades-of-purple

Part 6: https://www.tumblr.com/talialovesmiw/743673294909259776/shades-of-purple

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Christopher’s POV

Blood dripped from my lips as I finally hunted down something for the first time in days.

“Finally, I won’t be going hungry for once.” I muttered, wiping the blood from my mouth. It wasn’t my favorite; rat’s blood, but it would do. I wasn’t going hungry tonight and that was all that mattered, right?

There was a pit in my stomach, like a weird sort of hunger that wasn’t satisfied from the rat blood. It wasn’t nearly as satisfying as…Y/N’s.

Suddenly, I found myself remembering her taste again. Fuck, she tasted heavenly, her blood to me was like water to a dehydrated man who’s been in the desert for days. She tasted so sweet…

The way she held onto me as I drank from her, her hands gripping my shoulders. The way she tilted her head back to give me more access. Her skin was so soft and smooth and god, her scent…

“God damn it, I can’t stop thinking about her blood…” I sighed, running my hand through my hair. “Nothing will come close to blood as good as hers..”

This was going to be hard to knock off. The way she tasted, the way she made me feel, fuck…

No, enough of that now, you fool. If you keep thinking of her, the more you’ll crave her. The more you crave her, the higher the chance you’ll hurt her.

I was going to keep myself under control though, I had to. Not only for myself, but for Y/N. I had to protect her from myself.

Eventually this would be something I’d shake off, and things would go back to normal. I’d go back to my normal routine and she wouldn’t have to worry about sacrificing her blood to me anymore. Besides, it wouldn’t be good for her to constantly be giving her blood. She’d grow weak…

I wouldn’t forgive myself if I allowed her to be in that state. She doesn’t deserve that. Hell, I don’t even deserve her if I’m being honest. She’s been nothing but a saint.

I needed to clear my head. My mind was all over the place and the air would do me good.

“Perhaps a walk wouldn’t hurt anything. I won’t wander for long anyway.” Exhaling heavily, I started down the dirt trails of the old forest.

I had known this place for years. Ever since I inherited the estate from mother and father, I have been in these woods almost every day and night. Whether it was for hunting, clearing my head or both, this was a familiar, comforting place for me. I knew it like the back of my hand.

I remember Veronica leading me by the hand down these same woods. I remember her laugh, the joy on her face as we went down our favorite trails…

“Come on Christopher, this way! Let’s skip stones down the stream!”

That stream…

I was in front of the same stream Veronica and I would skip stones across…

It was frozen over now due to the cold, but otherwise it had remained the same. I could still see her giggling as she tossed down a pebble, cheering as it skipped across.

God, her laughter was contagious…

“I’m so sorry, beloved..” I whispered, my voice a bit shaky at the memory.

143 years without my Veronica..

As I sighed, I felt a snowflake fall on my nose. I glanced up at the sky to see snow starting to fall. It was not light either. It came down fast and heavy.

“Oh for fucks sake..”

I should’ve remembered there was a blizzard heading in this direction tonight. I was a few miles away from home now, so I had quite the walk ahead of me. It wasn’t something I couldn’t manage, however. I had gotten caught in the middle of a snow storm before. I just had to be careful.

I had been walking for over an hour now, and the snow was piling up quickly. The wind was blowing hail and snow in my direction which only made the journey home more difficult.

“I’ve got to be close to home now, I’ve been walking for ages. I hope we still have power..”

There was a good chance we didn’t have electricity. I would have to start a fire in the fireplace to keep everyone warm…

I suddenly remembered Y/N and how she said she’d wait for me to come home. She was probably still awake, waiting for me to arrive. The poor thing was most likely exhausted and cold! I had to get back to get her warm.

“Let go of me!”

From a distance, I could hear footsteps, followed by someone screaming, and it was a woman’s voice. I recognized that voice. Fuck, Y/N??

I turned in the direction in which the voice was coming from and ran that way. The voice grew louder as I got closer, and I could hear a male voice as well. Another all too familiar voice. Ronnie…

When I arrived at the source of the voices, the sight before me had my blood boiling.

That motherfucker…

“Get your hands off her!”

…………………………………………………………

Third Person POV

Y/N froze as Ronnie lifted his head from her neck to see Chris standing before them, boiling with rage.

“What the fuck are you doing here-?” Ronnie started before Chris tore him off of her and held him by the collar of his shirt, narrowing his eyes at him.

“You better explain why the fuck you had your filthy hands on her you motherfucker.” Chris growled in a dangerous tone. He. Was. Pissed.

“You sure love to come at the worst times, don’t you shadow boy?” Ronnie said sarcastically, glaring at him.

“And you sure love to put your hands on what doesn’t fucking belong to you!” Chris fired back, “Answer the damn question.”

“I was going to have a taste of what should’ve been MINE. But no, you just had to come and ruin the moment like you always do!” Ronnie shouted angrily, shoving Chris off of him.

“Guess what asshole, she isn’t yours! You have no right to touch her!” Chris pointed at him, poking his finger at the other’s chest.

Ronnie furrowed his brows.. “Why don’t you just admit it, shadow boy? You want everything I have. You wanted the girl so you took her before I got the chance. You just fucking wish you were me, don’t you?”

Chris crossed his arms. “I knew you’d put her through hell, just like you do with everyone else.” He said as he rolled his eyes before smirking at him. “I simply got to her before you did. If I so badly wanted to be like you, I would’ve killed her by now. After all, all you’re good for is draining and abusing the innocent. That’s the only way you get joy, by making others miserable.”

Ronnie was fuming. Oh how he had hated that smug asshole. He growled as he left hooked Chris in the nose, causing him to stumble back as held his now bleeding nose.

Chris stared down at his blood stained hand and then back at Ronnie, glaring daggers at him. “You were no better than me at one point, remember that.” Ronnie spat, clenching his fists.

Chris narrowed his eyes and they were full of rage. “Oh, so that’s how you want to play this?” He snarled, now towering over Ronnie. “Then so be it.” He spat, his tone laced with venom as his fist crunched into Ronnie’s face.

All Y/N could do was stand back, frozen with fear as she watched the two men fight. On one hand, she was relieved she had found Chris; well, he had found her. She was also scared that he was going to get hurt.

Ronnie was not a weak man. Though Chris was able to dodge some of his hits, Ronnie managed to get a couple of blows in there, and Chris would definitely have some bruising by the morning. Chris was able to hold his own however, leaving Ronnie with a black eye and a swollen bloody lip.

“You’re weak. Ever since that Veronica bitch, you’ve gone soft!” Ronnie mocked, pushing Chris roughly to the ground. One wrong move and Chris could slip and fall into the frozen lake. Ronnie stood over him, sneering at him. Chris could feel rage bubbling again at the mention of Veronica. Ronnie knew exactly what he was doing. “You’re a shell of who you used to be, it’s sad. You used to be so powerful and respectable. What happened?”

“I learned to respect myself, that’s what happened.” Chris retorted coldly, getting to his feet quickly, grabbing Ronnie by the throat and threw him against a tree. “Something you clearly haven’t learned to do yet, Radke.”

Both men were pretty bloodied up by now and Y/N decided enough was enough. She made her way over to Chris, grabbing his arm to stop him from doing anymore damage.

“Chris stop!” She shouted, grabbing his attention as she looked up at him with fearful eyes. “He…he’s had enough..”

Chris panted heavily, glancing between her and Ronnie before fully turning to Y/N and pulling her into a protective hug.

“What were you doing out here? Don’t you know how dangerous these woods are? ” He asked, filled with concern.

“I was looking for you! You were gone for so long I was afraid something happened to you!” She whimpered, holding onto Chris tightly. He was surprisingly really warm.

“Little dove, I would've been fine. I can manage this type of weather, you cannot..” He scolded. God, he was so worried about her. “You were almost killed..” He hated the thought of her being killed, especially at the hands of that pig. It only made him hold her closer.

“I-I’m sorry. I just had to make sure you were okay..” She murmured, her voice shaking a bit.

Fuck, that pulled at his heart strings. She had gone out here in this weather just to make sure something hadn’t happened to him. He felt a bit guilty for not coming back sooner.

“No, don’t be sorry. I should’ve remembered we were expecting a blizzard. I should’ve gone back sooner.” He said softly, petting her hair. He could feel her shivering against him. “You’re freezing, little dove..” He held her closer to his chest. “Let’s get back so you can warm up.”

“And so we can get your injuries taken care of.” Y/N added.

As they were about to start walking back, Chris felt a sharp searing pain in his stomach. Ronnie had gotten up, grabbing Chris from behind and stabbing him in the gut. He yelled out in pain as the switchblade tore through his flesh. It felt as if someone had stuck a hot dagger into his body.

“CHRIS!” Y/N shrieked as Ronnie quickly disappeared. Chris stumbled and fell to one knee, holding his hand over the bleeding wound. “Oh god Oh god Oh god!”

Y/N was panicking. Her mind and heart were racing a million miles a second as she quickly dropped to her knees to get on Chris’s level. She saw that he was stabbed right in the abdomen, and his hand was covering the area. His hand was soaked in blood. It was bad.

“S-stay with me, please!” She said quickly, taking her hat off and placing it over his wound to prevent any more blood from pooling out. She put his arm over her shoulder and stood up slowly, taking him with her. He was a bit taller than her which made him quite heavy for her. She could manage it though, she had to for Chris’s sake. “Whatever you do, don’t close your eyes. Please stay awake, okay?”

Chris nodded before coughing up a bit of blood. Y/N’s eyes widened and now she was really getting scared. She was keeping it all inside now however, she had to put on a brave face.

The snow was still coming down hard, and it was not easy to see what direction home was. “Fuck, which was is home?? Oh no, god damn it! We’re lost..”

“H-hold onto me, I know a way to get b-back..” Chris spoke, his voice cracking and barely audible.

“W-what? You do?”

He nodded, and pulled her close. “D-don’t be frightened. T-takes a sec..” Within seconds, they were back. Had he just teleported them? Y/N looked around, shocked.

“How did you?-”

“T-teleportation…use it f-for emergencies..” Chris hurled over, wincing in pain as he held his abdomen. “Fuck..”

“Someone please help! We need a doctor, Chris is hurt!” Y/N cried out as she looked around for someone to come.

Thankfully, Madison was within earshot and came rushing over. “Y/N, what on earth happened?!” She asked frantically as she took in Chris’s state.

“I-I got lost and then Ronnie attacked a-and then Chris showed up and fought h-him and then he s-stabbed him and-!”

Madison put her hands on Y/N’s shoulders. “Woah woah hey, breathe. Let me call the medic so Chris can be taken care of, then you can tell me what happened, alright?”

Y/N took a breath and sniffled, “A-alright..”

Madison gave her a small smile before dialing a number on her phone and walking away. “It’s Christopher, the girl said he was attacked. He’s got a stab wound, a bloody nose and some bruising. Okay, great. See you soon..” She walked back over, “We have an on-call medic who’ll be over soon. Let me get Chris to his bedroom, okay hun?”

“I-is he going to be okay?” Y/N asked quietly, her tone laced with worry.

“He’ll be fine. If I know Chris, he’ll pull through it.”

Y/N hugged his body close to her for a moment, quickly pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Please make sure he’s taken care of. I can’t lose him too..” She whispered as she helped Madison get Chris to his feet.

“We’ll make sure of it. You go change and warm up, get some rest too.” Madison said gently as she took Chris.

Y/N sighed, “I’ll try..”

…………………………………………………………

Y/N’s POV

I had changed into warm pajamas and sat in the sitting room, anxiously waiting for any news on Chris. I had told Becca and Madison what happened and they had been with me the whole time, comforting me and reassuring me that he would be okay.

“I don’t know girls, the stab wound was really bad, he was in so much pain. What if he doesn’t make it?” I whispered as tears pooled in my eyes.

Becca put her arm around my shoulders. “Don’t say that. He’s gonna be okay.” She said gently, rubbing circles on my back.

“As long as the knife didn’t puncture any major organs, he should be fine.” Madison added.

They were right, I knew they were. I was just scared. I was scared to lose Chris. I couldn’t lose another person that meant so much to me.

It had only been a short time since I knew him, but I felt such a strong connection with him, and I was sure that he felt it too. He had been so caring, so kind and generous toward me. He made me feel like I belonged, like I mattered and had purpose.

He was also just so…protective of me. He always made sure my safety was his top priority, he showed that in the woods. He was willing to fight to keep me safe and that made my heart flutter.

I sighed, looking at both of them with a tired smile. “You girls are right, he’ll be okay..”

Becca pulled a blanket over me, “Get some sleep, you need it. We’ll keep you updated on when you can visit Chris.”

“Thank you, I’d appreciate that.” I said with a small smile, snuggling into the warm blanket. I could feel the exhaustion overwhelm me and I was getting really sleepy.

“Of course hun, now go to sleep, okay?” Madison said softly.

“You don’t have to tell me twice..”

…………………………………………………………

It had been a few hours and I was awoken by Madison gently shaking me. “He’s awake, do you want to go see him?”

I instantly got up, a bit anxious. “Yes, yes please!”

Madison nodded and led me down to Chris’s bedroom. She opened the door and we walked inside. The medic was standing by a barely conscious Chris. He had a bandage wrapped around his torso where he was stabbed.

“Is…is he okay?” I asked.

The medic looked over at me and then back at Chris. “I was able to close the wound, but he lost a lot of blood..”

I was confused. “So, what does that mean? Is he going to be alright?”

“Well, he’s going to need to get more blood somehow, otherwise there’s a chance he could become ill and much weaker”

I gasped. “How can we get Chris more blood?” I asked frantically.

The medic turned to Madison. “Madison, do you have any donor blood on site?” He asked. Madison shook her head.

“No, I’m afraid not. He had the last of it a few months when he had gone a few days without food.”

The medic sighed. “That’s not ideal. We need to get him blood as soon as possible.”

“He can have my blood!” I interjected without hesitation. This even caught Chris’s attention.

“L-little dove, no. I-I can’t, I won’t.” He was now sitting up, groaning a bit as he held his abdomen. I went over to him and he looked me in the eyes. “I-I promised I wouldn’t drink from you anymore.”

I grabbed his hand and looked down at it. His knuckles were bandaged up as they were bloody earlier. “Chris, you need to…you could become really sick if you don’t get blood soon..”

“We’ll find donor blood from a blood bank or something. I’m not touching your blood.” He stated firmly. It seemed as if he wouldn’t change his mind.

“Christopher, the sooner you get blood in your system, the faster your recovery will be.” The medic advised.

“I don’t care. I’m not risking getting addicted to her blood. I can’t risk her getting hurt.”

I bit my lip before grabbing Chris’s face with both hands, “God damn it Chris! If you care enough about me…enough about yourself, then you’ll drink my blood!” I pleaded with him. My eyes softened as I looked at him, “Please, I’ve already lost so many important people in my life, don’t be another..” I whispered as tears pricked the corners of my eyes.

Chris furrowed his brows, anxiously thinking all of this over. I could tell he was still unsure. “I’ll be okay, just like last time. I’m asking you to drink from me, it’s not like it’ll be against my will.”

Chris sighed and looked up at me. “I-I know..”

“Then please, drink my blood. Take what you need.”

“Alright..” He said hesitantly, “But I need it to be just the two of us, just so it’s more comfortable. Madison, please go make sure Y/N has a snack ready for after.”

Madison nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Be careful, Christopher.” The medic warned before he left with Madison, leaving me alone with Chris.

…………………………………………………………

Christopher’s POV

Y/N moved her sleep shirt to the side to expose her neck and shoulders. She got on the bed and moved next to me and shifted so she was in a comfortable position.

“You really care about me, don’t you?” I asked softly. “You being okay with all of this and willingly giving your blood to me whenever I need it is true devotion.”

She gave me a soft smile. “You’ve done so much for me yourself, you protected me from Ronnie not once but twice, and you’ve been nothing but kind to me. This is a serious situation and you needed help. Of course I care about you, Chris.”

I smiled back, caressing her cheek gently. “I care about you too little dove, more than you’ll ever know..”

She leaned into my touch, holding the hand on her cheek. “I know you do..”

We stayed like this for a few more moments but eventually I pulled back, knowing I had to eventually get this over with. Admittedly, a part of me was looking forward to getting to taste her again. Her blood was pure heaven to me. But at the same time, I was afraid of hurting her, becoming addicted to her. But I knew how important this was to her, so I was willing to do it.

Y/N must’ve taken notice that I was lost in thought and she took my hand in hers. “Hey, we’re gonna be okay. Don’t overthink it.” She reassured me gently.

I took a breath before nodding. “You’re right, we’re gonna be okay.” I said with a small smile. “Are you ready?”

“Whenever you are.” She said, gently squeezing my hand. I nodded before lifting my head to her neck, my nose brushing against her skin. I wrapped my arms around her as my lips moved down her neck and to her shoulder.

“Thank you, so much. I’ll always be so grateful for your kindness..” I whispered before I sank my teeth into her flesh.

53 notes · View notes

xcalciumx · 11 months

Text

Family | Mitsuri Kanroji x Reader x Obanai Iguro

Word Count | 5.5k

Warnings | we good.

Summary | Weeks after your near-death experience, you are slowly recovering when you run into Iguro and Mitsuri. Will you finally realise your true feelings? Or in which you stop being a goofy ass.

a/n | ya'll thought I wouldn't do it. but here i am. i posted it. I'M SO SORRY.

part one | part two

∘₊✧──────────────────────────────✧₊∘

“Come on, princesses. My grandma can run faster than that – and she’s dead!”

Shinobu shot you an amused glance from across the room as you sat in your wheelchair, watching as the three boys ran their seventy-fifth lap. You grinned, averting your gaze as the blondie ran past, wide circle eyes staring at you desperately.

“Pleaseee, I can’t take – “

“Agatsuma!” Shinobu barked, “Thirty more laps and you’re done for today. Now shut up and get running!”

You giggled behind your hand. Ever since the incident, you had become prone to spending your days either sitting aimlessly in your room or watching the younger members of the corps train. Clearly, with both of your legs in casts and your torso swallowed in bandages, there weren't a whole lot of options. Because of this, you had been begging Shinobu to give you a couple of wood crutches; that way you could at least get around the mansion a bit easier. Alas, she had refused your request every time.

The woman in question made her way across the training space towards you, lips quirked up mischievously. As she came to a stop beside you, one of her hands came down to clasp your shoulder .

“Honestly, do you have anything better to do than distract these three?” she said, watching the boys. You cast her a long look, eyes narrowing.

“Don’t know if you noticed, Kocho…but I'm kind of crippled here. Not much else I can do.”

The insect hashira laughed at that, waving you off.

“How many times have I told you that your legs will be healed and fine in no time, hm? Trust me, you’ll be off fighting upper moons again before you know it.”

You grumbled at that, reclining further back in the wooden wheelchair.

“No thanks.”

At your words, Shinobu quirked a brow, turning to face you fully. “No? You’re not thinking of retiring are you?” The both of you sat in silence for a moment, her brows furrowing further as you refused to answer. “Hey…I mean I know you nearly died and all that, but it’s just a little hiccup in the road – like I said, you’ll be fine in a couple of weeks; it’ll be like nothing ever happened.”

You let her assurance hang for a moment, a sigh leaving your lips as you thought about your reply.

“I’m tired, Shinobu. This life, this…” you struggled to voice your feelings. “Women our age are married. They have families. We’re out here cutting the heads off of demons and watching as ambitious teenagers are sent off to be killed on missions. And - and to what end, really?”

She pondered your words, a frown now tugging her lips downwards. When she finally spoke, she had averted her gaze to the jogging boys.

“Since the accident…sometimes you don’t sound like yourself.” she shot you a quick look, trying to gauge your reaction. “You know why we fight. You know why we lay down our lives. We save people. We work endlessly towards stopping Muzan. That’s the end goal and you know it.” Her words trailed off. On the other side of the matts, the trio began slowing down. “You know what Kanae told me, when she was still alive? She said that just because we’re demon slayers - just because we’re cursed with this miserable life, it doesn’t mean we can’t love. It doesn’t mean we can’t have a family.” A large crease appeared in her forehead. She turned her stare back to you, determination prominent in her eyes. “So, you need to stop acting sorry for yourself. People die, people get hurt. Tough luck, suck it up. I don’t know what happened that day or what went down between the three of you, but sitting here, acting like you’re gonna quit the corps? It’s dumb. You can be happy. You can be that woman who’s married and has a family - but you’re just choosing not to, you’re scared.”

A heavy feeling gurgled in your gut. You didn’t want to admit it, but Shinobu was right. You were scared, and you were acting pathetic because of it. The thought was confronting.

All the words that you had exchanged with Iguro and Mitsuri rushed back to you. The fear of death - the pain of never having lived a fulfilling, happy life…it had overwhelmed you. And as a result, you had pushed away some of the only people who truly cared for you. The people you loved.

It made you want to crawl into a dark cave and never come out.

Maybe that had been your last chance. Your only chance. Iguro and Mitsuri probably thought you were a big tantrum-throwing baby who couldn’t handle her emotions. They probably thought you hated them. And if there was one thing you knew for sure in this terrible world - it was that you definitely did not hate them. Not a single piece of your broken, banged up body hated them. Lord, even when Iguro had made you turn red from anger - you didn’t hate him. And Mitsuri, who could ever hate her? She was the sweetest, love stricken person you had ever had the pleasure of laying your eyes on. Now though…now they probably hate you, if anything.

The thought had you clenching your fists tightly on the arms of your chair.

Shinobu looked at you with a knowing smile, opening her mouth to speak. Before she could, three panting boys stumbled up to the pair of you, tongues lolling out of mouths and sweat sticking their hair to their heads like a second skin.

Quickly, you righted the frown on your face.

“Done for today?” you asked. It was Tanjiro who answered, a beaming grin on his face despite the harrowing breaths leaving his lips.

“Yup, all done! Thank you for today's training, Kocho-Sama!” he directed his next words at you. “Would you like to go back to your room? I can take you!”

You contemplated for a second, eyes glancing between the three demon slayers in front of you.

“Actually, I was going to go out to the garden for a while. Get some fresh air. Thank you though, Tanjiro.” The maroon-haired boy smiled in response. On his left, Inosuke was rocking impatiently on his feet, whilst Zenitsu practically fell asleep standing up. Next to you, Shinobu shook her head at the younger boys with raised brows.

“Same time tomorrow, don’t be late.” Her command was met with instant agreement. Zenitsu even stopped blowing snot bubbles for a second to answer. Your laughter was cut short when she turned her gaze to you. “And you, we’re gonna have a real long chat tomorrow, so I better see your ass here as well.” she regarded you with a stern look. “Maybe I can even get you to start exercising your legs a little so you’re not so useless…”

Your offended look did not go unnoticed as she sauntered out of the room, waggling her fingers goodbye. You couldn’t help but mutter to yourself angrily.

“I’m still a Hashira too, y’know.”

A couple minutes later you found yourself being pushed down a long hallway. Despite your insistence to Tanjiro that you could make your way to the garden by yourself, he wouldn’t let up. So now, to your absolute chagrin, you were being accompanied by a boar who was jumping off the walls, a babbling baby who was trying to fall asleep in your lap and a kind, but obsessive boy who was pushing your wheelchair like his life depended on it.

For the eighth time, you pushed Zenitsu’s wobbling form away from you.

“You’re not sleeping on me, Agatsuma. Don’t even try.” He whined but backed off a little, stomping grumpily down the hall next to you. Behind you, Tanjiro was humming something to himself cheerily. A little ways ahead, Inosuke was trying to fight with a random Kakushi.

You had little doubt that the look on your face was pure exhaustion.

The Kakushi currently getting harassed began sprinting down the hall past the rest of you, Inosuke hot on his tail. You rolled your eyes, opening your mouth to say something but deciding against it. As they passed, at the last minute you decided to stick your arm out. The Kakushi bypassed it unscathed, but Inosuke, with no awareness of his surroundings, ran right into your protruding limb, the force of the impact sending him sprawling backwards. In an instant, the Kakushi disappeared around the corner. The edges of your lips tilted up. Before you could blink, Inosuke was back up on his feet; boar eyes seemingly piercing into your soul and nostrils flaring with misty breath. You rubbed at the fading pain in your arm and stared back at him blankly. The entrance to the garden was only ten or so metres away, but Tanjiro tastefully chose this time to stop pushing you.

“Why’d you do that?” The feral boy growled out behind his mask, slinking closer. It was almost as if he was…trying to intimidate you? Tanjiro’s voice came over the top of your head.

“Um, Inosuke…she was just trying to help.”

He ignored that, coming right up to your prone form and leaning down into your personal bubble. The ends of his mask tickled your face. You coughed in response, trying to hide the fact you were about to burst out laughing.

“Inosuke!” Tanjiro admonished like a mother.

Before you could make a snarky remark at the animal-esque boy, two scrawny arms were pulling Inosuke away from you. You watched in confusion as Zenitsu restrained the trembling boar for a moment, his chin wiggling in fear.

“Stop!” Zenitsu cried out. “She did nothing wrong, you crazy buffoon!” Inosuke roared, shoving an elbow into his friend's face and breaking free from his grip. Red instantly began to stream from the lightning user’s nose like a broken faucet.

“Eh!? The hell you think you’re doing, Monitsu?!”

You nearly smiled at the defiant look in Zenitsu’s eyes as Inosuke set his sights on him. Key word being nearly. What he said next diminished any admiration you held for him.

“You can’t hit a girl, you psycho! Especially not one of my future wives!” your gaze narrowed instantly. “You’ll marr her lovely skin!”

“You’re a literal child,” you grumbled to yourself, going unheard by the rest of the boys. As you watched them bicker, all you could do was groan, leaning your head back to look at Tanjiro. He seemed to read something on your face as he stepped out from behind you to interfere. As he did so, you slapped a hand to your head in exasperation. You had wanted him to get you out of there, not make you stay around to watch these two bicker and fight.

As Tanjiro began trying to deescalate the situation, the hallway somehow became louder with more shouting and arguing. Now, the hall was consumed by yelling teenage boys threatening to beat eachother up. And here you thought you were having a good day.

You peered at the three, wondering if you should stop them as they began to tussle.

It only took you a second to decide. Nah, not your problem.

Reaching for your wheels, you began trying to navigate around the boys to get to the door. The wood of your wheelchair groaned as it slowly made its way across the floor towards the threshold. You passed the fighting group without a glance, readjusting your uniform nonchalantly. Your feet were practically in the sun as you reached the outside door. A gentle draft was coming in from the patio and you let yourself smile a little, rearing to get across the door frame.

Right before you could pop a wheelie and haul yourself across the little cylinder trimming blocking the entrance, a low voice echoed down the hall behind you.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Your spine instantly tensed, and you paused mid-action to whip your head around. Your heart freaked for a moment, thinking the voice was directed at you. Though when you assessed the sight behind you, you realised that - that wasn’t the case.

At the end of the hallway, where the four of you had come from, stood Iguro. His steely eyes were trained on Tanjiro, Inosuke and Zenitsu. At the Serpent Hashira’s question, the hall became deathly silent in a second.

You kept very quiet; he hadn’t noticed you there yet. Your eyes darted between the garden and the three boys who looked like they had been caught stealing. Breath caught in your throat, you were about to make a sneaky exit when Iguro began talking again.

“Seriously. How old are you? What’re your names? I’ll report you for insolence in a Hashira’s residence.” He scoffed, eyes roving the boys in boredom. You pursed your lips, looking once more at the boys who had grown extremely still. Reflexively, your gaze wandered back to Iguro.

When no one responded, the raven-haired male began stalking forward, his checkered haori swaying around him.

“Hm, so? Don’t wanna talk?” he cracked his knuckles creepily, Kabumararu coiling over his shoulders. “That’s fine. I'll make you talk.”

You had to forcibly stop yourself from rolling your eyes at his stupid threat. However, when you looked back to the boys, you realised they didn’t share quite the same amusement as you.

Zenitsu was sporting the typical deer-caught-in-headlights look, with big, wet tears starting to form. Instead of hitting Inosuke, he was now clutching onto him tightly, using him as a meatshield from the imposing Hashira. Inosuke himself had completely tensed up and you couldn’t quite tell if he was getting ready to try to fight Iguro or run away from him. Besides them, Tanjiro was looking awfully guilty. He, at least, seemed sort of alright with the confrontation.

You were now faced with a choice: slip out the door and leave these three to their possible demise or step in and tell Iguro to relax…One of the options was certainly looking better than the other.

Even so, you weren’t completely cruel and you were kind of the reason that this had happened in the first place.

You sighed, slowly pushing yourself backwards into the hall. The rolling of your wheelchair instantly caught everyone's attention and you cleared your throat awkwardly. As you came to a slow stop, you raised your gaze to meet Iguro’s. Before you could say anything, Zenitsu called out to you in what he must have thought was a quiet voice, his form trembling now.

“Hey, hey! Help us, please. Please!”

Now it was him everyone was looking at. His throat bobbed as he gulped deeply, shrinking under the scrutinising glare of the older man in the room. He shot one last desperate look in your direction.

You couldn’t help but sigh once again, cracking your neck and squaring your shoulders.

“Alright, Obanai. I think you’ve scared them enough.”

The boys sagged in relief. Iguro averted his stare back to you and you witnessed how his eyes seemed to soften as they took you in. Though it was totally a trick of the light, you told yourself. Surely you didn’t look very pretty, all dinged up and useless in a wheelchair. Despite this, Iguro changed his course of trajectory, walking towards you. The boys watched on fearfully, thinking you had pissed him off. You didn’t blame them, because you also thought you had pissed him off.

It wouldn’t be the first time.

As he came closer, you noticed the slight limp in his step and the numerous cuts torn across his face. There were some rips in his haori and a stain on his bandages that resembled blood. You raised an eyebrow. Before you could remark on it, he had stopped a few feet in front of you, eyes devoid of any emotion.

“You look better.”

There was an awkward silence. You glanced behind Iguro to where the trio seemed to contemplate their escape. Something that felt awfully similar to sweat pooled in your palms. You should say thanks, right? Right. What came out though was definitely not a thanks.

“You look like shit.” Instantly, you clapped a hand over your mouth, eyes widening. That was not what you meant to say. What the hell was wrong with you? Quickly, you held up your hands placatingly, “No, no - I didn’t mean. I mean - you look fine. You must have just got back from a mission? Yeah, you did…it’s uh. It’s fine. Wait, I mean - “ you tripped over your words, only to stop when a low chuckle reached your ears. You went completely silent when you looked up to see Iguro regarding you fondly, a warmness starting to blossom in your cheeks.

“Mitsuri and I just got done with a mission. We, “ he glanced back at the eavesdropping boys, “We were going after it. The upper moon.”

Your eyes widened slightly at his words, a heavy silence now basking the hall.

“Oh.”

Iguro laughed again, shoulders shrugging.

“It was a trap though. We barely made it out…” his words trailed off. Your heart hammered so hard, you thought it might re-break your ribs.

“But - but you’re okay, right? I mean, where’s Mitsuri? She’s alright?” It was hard to hide the nervousness in your voice. Iguro seemed surprised but he quickly hid it, nodding his head.

“She’s fine. A little battered up as well, but fine. She should - ”

As if she was summoned, Mitsuri pranced around the corner, her pink locks flying behind her. She came to a stop as she regarded the crowded hall curiously.

“Oh! Hi everybody?” If the boys weren’t relaxed before, they certainly were now. With two other Hashiras around, they were decidedly protected from Iguro’s wrath. It was Tanjiro who greeted her back, waving a hand. She smiled sweetly, eyes wandering towards Iguro and ultimately landing on you. Her smile flickered for a second, shoulders seeming to curl the slightest bit.

“Oh,” she whispered this time. “Hi.” Unsure of what her body language meant, you smiled hesitantly back at her.

“Hey, Suri’...”

At the nickname, something in her eyes flared and suddenly she was skipping down the hall towards you and Iguro. As she passed by the boys, one of her hands reached out to pat Zenitsu on the head. Lovehearts literally shone in his eyes.

“Honey!” she cooed as she reached you. It was as if nothing had happened between you two as she grabbed your face with one hand, angling it up and down. She hummed under her breath. “Well, you’ve certainly healed well!” she stared at you with a soft, simpering smile - almost as if begging you not to push her away again. You didn’t. Rather, you laughed quietly, cupping the hand that was now resting on your cheek.

“Yeah…we all know Shinobu’s medicine works wonders. Don’t tell her I said that, though.” Mitsuri grinned at that, taking a step back. As she did, your eyes were drawn to the bandages peeking out from beneath her uniform. “Are you alright?” you asked her without missing a beat. She followed your gaze, then looked at Iguro sceptically. He nodded back at her.

“I’m okay, it’s just a cut. Um…” she looked at Iguro a second time, displeasure now causing her nose to scrunch. When she looked back at you, it became glaringly obvious that she was nervous.

“What, Suri’?” you asked. Her cheeks grew a little bit pink.

“It’s just that…I’m sorry. We went on that mission to take down the upper moon and failed. I - I know it meant a lot to you.” The smile on your face quickly vanished, but not for the reason Mitsuri seemed to think. As she raised her hands to apologise again, you interrupted.

“You’re sorry? Mitsuri no, you don’t need to apologise to me. I know how I reacted a couple weeks ago but I don’t - y’know, I don’t actually care. I mean, you don’t owe me anything…”

Her head tilted to the side, a pout coming onto her face. Iguro spoke up.

“You don’t…care? We’ve been away for weeks hunting that demon for you because we thought…we - “ Iguro paused, looking over at the trio of boys still listening to your conversation. “Maybe we should go somewhere a little more private.” Mitsuri nodded her agreement.

“No.” You all paused, staring at Zenitsu as he announced himself in a meek voice. Iguro in particular, stared hauntingly at him. This was enough for the blonde to cower back, looking to his friends for help. Indeed, Tanjiro came to his aid.

“No, he’s right. We were taking her to the garden before you interrupted. You can’t just take her away when she doesn’t wanna go!”

You blinked at Tanjiro repeatedly, trying to process his words. When you did, you nearly cried in exasperation. These kids were crazy. You went to explain, but was stopped by Iguro as he took a step towards the boys.

“Are you trying to say we can’t talk to our girl in private?” he asked darkly. Tanjiro paled but didn’t back down. Zenitsu, on the other hand, completely hid himself behind Inosuke. (Though you were pretty sure that Inosuke had fallen asleep at some point in all of this).

Mitsuri and you exchanged a look.

“Stop it, Iguro.” you groaned. “And Zenitsu, Tanjiro - for god's sake, I am going on my own free will. No one is making me do anything. Just go back to your room or something!” you snapped at them. For the first time since you had met, the boys seemed to remember that you were a Hashira, which meant you could look after yourself. It also meant that you were undoubtedly capable of dismembering them if they got on your nerves…which they had, many times before this. Their eyes widened but they nodded, scurrying off down the hall. You watched them go, casting a look at the now snoring Inosuke still standing there.

“Should we wake him?” Mitsuri pondered.

“No.” Iguro retorted, reaching towards you.

“What’re you doin - Yah!” All of a sudden you had left the discomforts of your wheelchair and were dangling idly in the air. With your legs useless, you couldn’t do much but glare at the Serpent Hashira. He peered down at you, shrugging.

“Easier to move you around this way.” he said simply. Next to you, Mitsuri giggled.

You had no choice but to accept it, grumbling to yourself as you tried to hide the slight flush creeping up your neck.

Outside, the sun was high in the sky. The sound of birds and running water echoed from the forest beyond the garden walls.

Mitsuri had directed the three of you towards a large oak, where you now sat in the cool shade. You had propped yourself up against the trunk, Iguro to your right and Mitsuri laying on her tummy in front of you two.

You all sat in silence, watching the calm scenery pass you by. Iguro’s head flopped back against the bark, a quiet sigh leaving his lips. Mitsuri yawned, legs kicking up behind her as she stretched out her arms. You just sat and watched, eyebrows drawn as you thought about what to say. Were you supposed to ignore what had happened three weeks ago? Were you guys just hanging out as friends now? Iguro had started saying something back inside but maybe he didn’t want to talk about it…

Your lips pursed.

Before you could dive deeper into your lair of doubt and confusion, a loud chatter caught your attention. All of you watched as a small group of demon slayers stumbled through the garden gates and made their way toward the mansion. As they joked around with each other, your eyes caught on their nichirin blades, shimmering like glitter in the sun. Your finger twitched beside you.

Your katana was long gone. After it had snapped into two on the mountain, it served you no purpose. Because of this, you had been blade-less ever since you woke up. Though Shinobu promised you that your swordsmith would bring you a new blade any day now, you were beginning to think she was lying to you to keep your spirits high. If you had it your way, you would’ve gone to the swordsmith village by now and re-equipped yourself; but no, apparently that wasn’t an option according to the Insect Hashira. Despite your argument that you could heal fine at the village and not have to worry about demons, you were ‘not permitted to leave the butterfly mansion until approved by a senior doctor.’ AKA, until Shinobu Kocho stopped being the bane of your existence.

Mitsuri followed your gaze, looking back at you with a small smile.

“You must really wanna get back out there after being cooped up in here the last couple’a weeks, huh?”

You shrugged noncommittally, eyes falling away from the blade as the slayers made their way inside.

“I suppose so,” you hummed, fingers tugging at the grass absentmindedly. Iguro grumbled from your right.

“Well I don’t want to fight another demon for the next fifty years after that last fight. Fuckin’ hell.”

MItsuri laughed, swatting at his leg playfully. At the same time, she nodded her head.

“It was…” she chuckled softly. “It was a lot.”

As you observed her a bit closer, you saw the dark shadows under her eyes and the purplish-blue where a bruise was beginning to form on her cheek. The numerous cuts littering her face was giving way to the warm swelling beneath. Glancing besides you, you noted that the same could be said for Iguro. Hot glue stuck your throat closed as you shut your eyes briefly. This was your fault.

“I’m sorry.” You spoke quietly. “You didn’t have to…I mean, you didn’t need to go after the upper moon. I - I’m sorry.” You couldn’t think of what else to say but apologise. You were the reason they had come home looking like crap. You were the reason they were probably aching all over right now. You. It was you.

“Shuddup,” Iguro suddenly barked, peering over at you. You stopped yourself from jolting at his unexpected demand.

“I-”

“I don’t know what you’re thinking, but we went after that upper moon on Ubayashiki’s orders. It had nothin’ to do with you.”

Your eyes widened, lips opening and closing as you tried to find the words to respond.

“Iguro!” Mitsuri groaned, one hand slapping her forehead. Like you, she gaped for a second as she tried to find the right words to say.

“What? I’m just telling the truth.” He said calmly. Mitsuri glowered at him, one finger rising up to point at him menacingly.

“That is not the tru-” her eyes lit up with a sudden realisation. “You’re just grumpy because that demon called you ugly!” she accused.

“Huh?!”

“Huh?”

Both you and Iguro spoke at the time, although Iguro was sounding a little more outraged at her words.

“The demon what?” your question fell on deaf ears.

“I am not grumpy about that!” Iguro defended himself instantly. Mitsuri responded back with equal fervour.

“You totally are! I told you you’re not ugly! Why are you still mad?!”

“I’m not!”

“You are!”

It took you a second to process the words being exchanged but once you did you could do nothing but clasp a hand over your mouth and stifle your giggles. Kaburamaru slithers over from Iguro’s shaking shoulders to perch on you grumpily. You reached your free hand up to stroke along his head gently, watching the two bicker.

It was only when Mitsuri’s wild eyes turned to you, did you realise that you should say something.

“You’re not ugly, Iguro.” You said, nudging the hashira next to you. The stream of words falling from his lips paused as he turned to look at you. “The demon was probably just trying to rile you up. In fact, you’re the least ugly guy I know.” you grinned easily at him and he seemed stunned for words. Mitsuri sighed dramatically, plopping back down into the grass with a huff. You bit your tongue to stop from laughing.

“That’s not true,” Iguro mumbled, head turning away from you. As you lose sight of his face, your face falls flat. Who knew that the Snake Hashira of all people would be so vain? Seeing the expression you bore, Mitsuri shook her hands at you, urging you to continue. You stuck your tongue out at her.

“Oh, Iguro ~ “ you murmur, hair falling in your face as you shake your head conspiratorially. “Really, you’re the most handsome guy I know. Don’t be such a baby about it, okay? It almost takes away from how stunning you are.”

You grin like a vixen when his head whips back towards you. With his face right in front of you, you can see the light dusting of red covering his cheeks.

“But I -”

“Oh good lord, Iguro!” you snapped playfully. “What is this? One of those cheesy love stories Mitsuri likes to read?” you ignore the yelped ‘hey’ from the bubblegum haired girl. “Don’t give me that bullcrap! I’ve literally seen you without your bandages and I still love you so what's the problem!?”

Your breath leaves you in pants as you contain a laugh. Iguro continues to stare at you, his pupils dilating. It isn’t until you turn to look at Mitsuri that you realise something is wrong. She’s gone silent, mouth dropped open.

“What? What did I say?” you ask hesitantly, glancing back at Iguro.

The squeals are all the warning you get before a solid force smashes into you. Slightly disoriented, you barely register Mitsuri wrapping around you like a toddler.

“I knew it! I knew it! I knew it!”

You groan, peeking one eye open to look at the Love Hashira. She’s already beaming down at you, hands cupping your face.

“I knew you loved us!” She rotates to talk to Iguro. “I told you she was just overwhelmed! I did!”

He goes to say something back at her but ends up just shaking his head. His bandages shift slightly upwards.

Listening to Mitsuri, what you just said dawns on you. Your face pales, lips parting slightly. Mitsuri catches the look on your face and jumps, about to clamber off of you. Before she can, you wrap a hand around her arm softly. Her face flushes but she stays where she is.

You wet your lips, trying to make sense of all the thoughts in your head.

“Hey,” Mitsuri whispers. “You know it’s okay if you didn’t mean to say that…I’m not trying to force you to confess your undying love for us if you don’t actually love us, y’know?”

You shoot a surprised look at her. “Huh? No! No that’s not it. I just…how? Why?”

“You're gonna have to be a bit more specific than that,” she giggles. The hold you have on her loosens slightly, your eyes casting towards the ground.

“How can you still love me? After what I said? How I pushed you away?” Tears hide behind your eyelids. “I was a total bitch. I mean, I thought you would never even talk to me again! I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

Mitsuri looks away and you realise that she’s mouthing something at Iguro. Suddenly, there’s a hand gripping onto yours tightly.

“Stop apologising,” Iguro’s gruff voice comes from beside you. You realise it’s his hand that you’re holding. “Suri’ kept saying that you were just overwhelmed, that you didn’t mean what you said. I realise now that she was right.” You can’t stop the tears that dribble down your cheeks. Mitsuri’s hold on you tightens. “I mean, you nearly died that day and here we were announcing our love for you? What the hell is up with that?”

You choke on a laugh, fingers curling into the palm of his hand.

“What I’m trying to say,” Iguro mutters, somewhat embarrassed. “Is that if anyone should be sorry, it’s us. We pushed you too far and didn’t stop to consider how you may have felt. So…we’re sorry.”

Everything goes quiet, your quiet sniffling slowing down. Mitsuri leans back to smile at you.

“Can we just stop all this sad shit?” she laughs. You echo her, reaching up to wipe away the remaining water in your eyes.

“Yeah. Yeah, I think so.” You.

“Please. No more of this emotional crap.” Iguro.

All three of you begin laughing in earnest now. All the drama and tears getting carried away by the gentle breeze that sweeps through the garden.

As you calm down, you notice the soft look on Mitsuri’s face. Her eyes dart down for a second, a pinkish hue colouring her cheeks.

Before you can question it, she’s pressing her lips to yours, hands gripping at your shirt tightly. It starts as quickly as it ends as she pulls back, eyes twinkling with stars.

“Too soon?” she giggles.

“Not soon enough,” you murmur, tugging her back towards you. Iguro’s firm grip on your hand keeps you safe and warm, reminding you that they were your family - your priority.

#demon slayer #kny fanfic #kimetsu no yaiba #obanai x reader #mitsuri x reader #poly!demon slayer #mitsuri x reader x obanai #x reader #mitsuri kanroji #obanai iguro #love hurts #fluff

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iamnotoriginalphil · 1 year

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Could you maybe write a Larissa X Reader where the reader and her have an argument, reader storms off into the woods during winter and Larissa finds her hours later and takes care of her.

I hope you enjoy this one Anon.

“I don’t understand why you’re making such a big deal out of this.”

“You’re fully obsessed with her, Larissa. What am I meant to think?”

“You’re exaggerating.”

“You won’t shut up about her.”

“Her daughter is being enrolled in my school. Am I meant to ignore that?

“You haven’t said a single word about her daughter to me. It’s all about her.”

“Well, I haven’t met her daughter yet.”

“Then why do you keep talking about her?”

“I’m reminiscing.”

“About your ex-girlfriend. Larissa, do you not see how that looks? She’s all you’ve been talking about for days.”

“Don’t exaggerate.”

“I can’t have this conversation with you right now.” You threw your hands in the air, “I’m going for a walk. Do not follow me.”

You didn’t wait for a response from her before you stormed out of her office. You didn’t even bother thinking, just wanting to put some distance between the two of you. The bite of the cold air didn’t even register as you plunged into the woods.

You walked until your mind turned blank. You hated how focused she was on her ex while you were right there. You were in front of her, loving her, and she couldn’t see past Morticia Addams. You needed the winter air to numb the feelings bubbling up in your chest.

At some point you sunk down onto the leaf strewn ground, burying your fingers in the rot and the dirt and the ice. It was all you could focus on as the sun began to go down, your anger seeping into the earth.

“Darling, you’re frozen.”

Warm hands pressed against the chilled skin of your arms. You slowly turned your head, tear tracks frozen on your cheeks. Larissa was crouched behind you, worry filling her eyes. You swallowed past the lump in your throat.

“Come on, you have to come inside now.”

You shook your head, turning away from her. Strong arms lifted you up, cradling you close to an almost burningly hot body. Your head lolled against her shoulder, eyes slipping closed as she walked through the woods. She kept murmuring soothing words as she made her way back to the Academy.

She didn’t let you go the entire way back to your shared rooms, no matter your weak protests. You felt the moment the air changed, from bitingly cold to warm and comforting. You hoped there had been no students witnessing your breakdown.

The sound of running water had you opening your eyes. Still cradled against Larissa’s body, she was leaning over the bath, filling it. She put you on your feet, peeling your frozen clothes from your body. You shivered, feeling beginning to return.

“You worried me, darling,” she murmured, leaning over to turn the water off.

Sweeping your legs out from underneath you, she lifted you into the water. You shivered so hard your teeth began to chatter as you sunk down into the warm bath. Larissa ran a soft cloth along your skin, dipping in and out of the water.

You rolled your head towards her, watching as she took care of you. Her brow was furrowed and she was concentrating so hard on your wellbeing. Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip and your heart turned over.

“Don’t you ever scare me like that again,” she said without noticing you watching her.

“Okay.” Your voice was soft but it caught her attention.

She paused, eyes roaming over your face. You lent forward, leaning on the edge of the clawfoot tub right in front of her. Her fingertips trailed from your temple to your chin.

“I’m sorry,” she said, “you were right. I was talking about Morticia too much. I was stuck on her and I was obsessing over her. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you said.

“It’s not. I should have been thinking about your feelings. You have every right to be upset,” she said.

“She unsettles you. I understand that,” you said, shaking your head.

She cupped both of your cheeks, stopping you from brushing it off. You looked at her, seeing the contrition on her face.

“You shouldn’t have to deal with my baggage from my school days,” she said, “I hope you know I don’t have feelings for her anymore. You’re the only one for me. I don’t want her at all.”

“I know,” you said, “of course I know that.”

“I’m so sorry.”

You lent forward, capturing her lips with yours. It was soft and sweet, so similar to your first kiss and it still took your breath away. She always managed to take your breath away.

“You’re forgiven,” you said, drawing away.

“I’m not sure you are,” she replied, but she was smiling, “you almost gave me a heart attack.”

“Sorry.”

“I’ll forgive you if you make room for me in this bath,” she said.

You didn’t need to be asked twice.

#larissa weems x reader #larissa weems imagine #larissa weems #principal weems x reader #principal weems imagine

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veryace-ficrecs · 10 months

Text

Nimona fic recs

I have seen the movie, I love the movie. Here, recs.

In all honesty, I have the comic, read it years and years ago, and this movie was a fantastic representation of it.

This list will include all ratings and tags, so read at your own discretion! :)

Kiss it and make it better by Bagge - Rated G

After Ballister removes the arrow from Nimona's leg, she decides she kinda enjoys the attention.

late at night by romeoandjulietyouwish - Rated G

Nimona is still getting used to Ambrosius, it helps that Ballister loves him very much.

finally home by romeoandjulietyouwish - Rated G

Ballister brings Nimona home to Ambrosius.

When The Smoke Clears, I Will Be Here by petrixhoric - Not Rated

When the last sparks of Nimona's light faded, Ballister collapsed among the ashes. To his rescue comes Ambrosius, who is ready to scoop him up and take him home. Everything hurts in Ballister's world: his heart... His body. He let's himself be vulnerable around the man he once loved, for the sake of all he's just been through.

Phantom Aches & Love by lostmagician - Rated M

Ambrosius wakes up to find Ballister perched on the edge of the bed, hunched over, his left palm braced against his knee.

between starshine and clay by TealWren - Rated G

Bal had been gone for too long. Or, three months after everything, Ambrosius goes looking.

Welcome Home by FaboKraken - Rated T

Nimona comes home. Ballister can’t believe it. Aka A home is sometimes a brooding one-armed science tech not-villian, a socially awkward golden knight who’s allergic to olives, and their accidentally-aquired sort-of-adopted 1000+ year-old-teen of mass chaos

twenty thousand years of this (seven more to go) by hereforthehurts - Rated G

“Shhh, stop. Stop, it’s okay,” The voice soothes, now, hands hovering above her head, already formed into the shape of her hair, but doesn’t dare to touch her. “Nimona—listen to me. You’re home. You’re alright.” Home. Noun. Four letters. Two syllables. But what the fuck does it mean to a girl who’s been a deer and a fish and a shark and a dragon and somehow in the end, despite all of that, nobody at all? What the fuck does it mean to a girl who’s seen the moons change its shape too many times over and brought fire to every valley where her baby feet steps? or: violent nightmares aren't new to nimona. what's new is the pair of arms that holds her regardless, and a place that normal people call home.

Shapes of Regret by then00breturns1101 - Rated G

It takes a while to adjust after Nimona's... death. Ballister is still grieving, Ambrosius is trying his best. At least they have each other again.

(I'm) the monster under their bed. by levi2207 - Not Rated

Be it simple curiosity, or something deeper, one day Ballister asks Nimona a question He's not ready for the answer.

trail of flowers through the wood by winter_hiems - Rated G

After everything, Ambrosius turns up at Ballister’s lair in the hope that Ballister might take him back.

If Ballister had adapted to live without his arm, how much easier must it be for Ballister to live without the man who had cut it off? Just because Ambrosius had apologised didn’t make it okay. He’d taken off his lover’s right hand.

How I Feel... by lostmagician - Rated T

“But I don’t wanna go to school,” Nimona protests, stomping her foot. “It’s not fair. I’m not a girl!” “I know you’re not a girl,” rejoins Ballister, because she’s repeated it roughly two hundred fifty times. “But there’s no other way. Nobody knows you’re alive, and this is for the best.” Or: Ballister thinks Nimona should go back to school, as a way to avoid suspicion. Chaos ensues.

Cheaters! by otomiyatickles - Rated G

What Ballister thought was going to be a quiet night alone, ends up being a night full of fun and laughter with the two people he holds dear.

it's nice to have a friend by immortalbanner - Rated G

If there was one thing true about Ballister's life it was that Ambrosius was one of the first people to accept him.

Fondly by ChiseHatori - Rated G

Ballister awakens from a familiar nightmare and Ambrosius comforts him.

Bond by Anonymous - Rated T

"This way! He's getting away." The clink of heavy armor makes Nimona know exactly what's coming. More knight, but they're not after them this time. This time they're after.. the human? This pathetic human? The one without an arm and suffering from heavy blood loss. "Isn't there a monster living in these tunnels?" A frightened voice asks. A laugh echoes throughout the stone walls. "Relax, the only monster here is Ballister."

Not a People by MaroonLeoInvestedCrybaby - Rated G

Nimona always has a habit of getting injured during fights but nobody has ever worried about her, that is, until Ballister Boldheart came around.

Enough courage to trust by spookygreen - Rated G

Nimona and Ambrosius don't really like each other, let alone trust each other. One of those days, they finally get a chance to bond - through kicking ass and having pizza.

#nimona #nimona movie #ballister boldheart #ambrosius goldenloin #nimona fanfic #veryace recs #ao3 fic recs #fanfic recs #ao3

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cowboydisaster · 1 year

Text

The Fire In Your Eyes

part X: Horseshoe Overlook vi

pairing: Arthur Morgan x fem!reader

word count: 12.6k

summary: you face the camp with Arthur, coming home and shocking everyone with his return. Dutch makes it clear that he has a growing problem with you, and Arthur sweeps you away from the drama, taking you on a date.

a/n: hello! Sorry for the long wait. Finals are over, and I can finally breathe again. Therapy!!! Therapy this chapter yay! Everyone talking about their daddy issues! They need it tbh. But that aside, I love this chapter because they're just together. You all voted for a honeymoon phase so here it is! Poll can be found in series extras linked below. Enjoy! <3

beta read by @margowritesthings

warnings: nsfw, 18+, minors dni (skippable smut)

series extras

SERIES MASTERPOST

You trot past Flatneck Station, swallowing thickly at the memories from the last time you’d been past. Hoof prints are stamped into the mud from the chase where you'd leapt from the train, and you keep your eyes off of them as you ride side by side with Arthur.

“You think they’ll know?” You blush, eyes flickering up to the entrance of camp. You slow Athena down into a walk as you stare into the dark opening in the woods, leading you home.

“No sweetheart,” Arthur chuckles, “I don’t think they’ll know.” He smiles, regarding your shared night together.

“What about the girls? Oh god- what about Hosea? He’ll know.” You sigh, anxiety pulling at your chest.

“Well I gotta come back from the dead first.” Arthur chuckles.

“Can we keep this between us just for now? I don’t wanna hide it, but I can’t take the teasin’ from the girls, not yet.” You mumble, looking up to Arthur as he stops Balius, looking back to you.

“They been teasin’ you?” He asks, eyebrows pulling together lightly.

“No, well not really, but I just know it’ll be the camp talk and I can’t deal with that now.”

“Okay… anyone bothers you, just let me know. Well- actually, I know you can handle your own, but still, you need to talk, let me know.” Arthur mumbles, eyes flickering up and down over you bittersweetly before he clicks Balius to trot.

“Thanks Arthur.”

You continue following Arthur into the woods surrounding Horseshoe. You’re glad to be back, albeit a little nervous. You haven’t seen anyone but John since the train job, and you hope there's no hurt feelings that you declined to return with them. Suddenly a rustling in the bushes pulls your attention, and your head snaps to the left.

“Who’s there?” John’s familiar raspy voice calls out, and you smile for it as he steps around some bushes and trees.

“It's us, dumbass.” Arthur says, with a hint of a smirk on his lips. You watch as John steps out onto the trail, eyes going wide as he slings his rifle over his shoulders.

“Arthur? I’ll be damned,” John looks up to Arthur, extending his hand upwards, and they share a very brotherly handshake, “I’m glad you’re alright, brother.” John sighs, looking back to you with a deep nod in thanks for bringing him home.

“Yeah me too.” Arthur says, letting go of John’s arm and glancing toward the camp. It’s midday, and you can see a few people milling about but none notice you.

“Everyone’s real worried. You best head on in there.” John says, nodding towards camp. He follows the two of you as you walk your horses in. Arthur makes a note to thank John when you’re not around. John kept you alive, took care of you when Arthur couldn’t. He’ll owe the younger outlaw for that.

“Arthur?!” Marybeth calls. She’s carrying a pail of water across camp, and she drops it at her feet as you walk in, a little behind Arthur.

“Arthur, Star!” Hosea chuckles, clapping his hands together with a smile. Everyone’s attention directs to Arthur as he rides in, and a crowd forms at the front of camp when everyone realizes he’s alive

“Arthur- you’re alive!” Javier calls out, a big smile on his face. After Arthur dismounts, Javier slaps him on the back. Everyone riddles him with questions, pulling him into the crowd. Arthur glances back at you briefly as they pull him to the campfire, but you only smile, beckoning him to go on. John comes up beside you, sighing.

“How’d you find him?” He asks, and you huff.

“He found me, actually.” You chuckle, watching as Arthur sits at the fire next to Charles and Karen.

“He’s okay?” John asks, looking Arthur over, thinking of the fall.

“He’s saying he’s fine, but I know he’s in a lot of pain… you know how he is.” You respond, hitching the horses.

“I do.” John says as you pull his tent kit down from Balius. With a small blush, you strap it onto Old Boy.

“Your tent. Thank you by the way.” You explain, cursing Arthur in your head as you strap down the kit, “I reckon I’m gonna go unpack. I could use a bath.” You chuckle, bidding John goodbye as you walk towards your tent. Arthur’s eyes follow you with concern as you walk past the crowd, but you give him a smile, letting him know not to worry. You just don’t feel like socializing right now.

You part the white canvas, stepping inside and taking a deep breath. You’ve missed your little space. You run your fingers along your bedside table, stopping at the end and taking your guns off your shoulders, leaving just your holstered weapons on your person. Then reaching into your satchel until you find the familiar cardboard, you pull out a match, strike it against your boot and light two candles to brighten up your tent.

"Better." You hum.

You sit down on your cot, tucking one leg under your body as you reach into your satchel again, but this time you pull out your little journal. It's been quite a while since you've written in the ivory pages, and you flip to a fresh entry before pulling out your pen Arthur had given you from that man in Blackwater.

I thought he was dead. Guess the fear of losing him won over the fear of having him, because when he returned to me safely, having him was all I could manage to do. I poured my heart out to him finally, and he waited for me just as promised. Things are better now. I have hope.

A single tear drips down onto the page as your pencil hovers over the entry. Your head snaps upwards at the sound of three harsh knocks on the beam of your tent. Quickly you look up, seeing black boots from underneath the tent flaps. You wipe your eyes, quickly standing up.

"Come in." You call, and Dutch parts the canvas with one hand, stepping into your tent. His stature towers over you menacingly, there's an intention to his gaze, but you only sigh, turning your back to him as you tidy up your bedside table.

"Dutch." You greet curtly, moving some dried wildflowers and herbs to the top left corner of your table.

"Where have you been?" Dutch asks, jaw set. You turn your head around, looking at him like he's a fool.

"I've been at the river, looking for Arthur." You huff. Dutch hums deep in his chest, thinking over the information you've just given him.

"I heard the train was a mess." Dutch adds, eyes looking down at yours. You don't know what he's getting at, or where this is leading but he's really beginning to irritate you, and you grit your teeth.

"Clearly. Boys came home with three people instead of five. I'd say that's a mess." You bite, slamming a few homemade tonics onto the table a little harsher than necessary as you organize them. Dutch leans over you from behind just enough to grab one of the wildflowers from your table, a violet, and he spins it between his thumb and index finger.

"Why is that? What went wrong?" He asks.

"Cause the conductor was dead…? Didn't one of the boys fill you in on this?" You sigh.

"Yes, but I was hoping for the perspective of someone more… integral to the aftermath."

You turn around, and Dutch grips the violet tightly. He nearly has you trapped in and you can barely see over his large shoulder as he steps forward threateningly. You don't know what he wants or how to appease him.

"What do you want, Dutch?" You growl, back pressed tightly against your side table to avoid his touch. You glare daggers at him.

"I just find it mighty strange that the first real job I put you on, my best man manages to nearly get himself killed. He never misstepped before you came along. He's smart." Dutch growls, and you swear his lip curls.

"You're losing it Dutch." You huff, shaking your head, realizing that Dutch thinks you messed up the train job. As if what happened was your fault.

"No. I'm just trying to figure things out. I'm keeping my eyes on you, miss. I don't trust you yet." Dutch says, stepping one more step toward you. He places the violet behind your ear with a sickeningly satisfied smirk, and you shy away from his hands. Then Dutch is leaning down close to your face.

"Trust has to be earned." He hisses, chuckling deep in his throat. Your knuckles are white from where they grip onto the table behind you, back pressed tightly against the wood.

"Dutch?" A voice calls from the entrance to the tent. Arthur. You release a breath as Dutch backs away. His threatening glare turns like the flip of a switch into a charismatic smile. He turns around to Arthur then, smiling just the same.

"Arthur! Glad you're home, son. Oh and tomorrow I want you to go and get Micah. The boy has done his time." Dutch says, patting Arthur on the back as he walks through the tent exit. Left reeling, you pull the violet out of your hair and toss it onto the ground angrily. You shudder a breath, watching the purple flower on the ground.

"You okay? What the hell was that about?" Arthur asks, coming forward and looking you over.

You sigh, anger replacing coyness as you strut towards your bed, shoving your journal back into your satchel.

"He thinks that I- I don't know what he thinks- that I set up the train job? Or that it's my fault you fell somehow?" You huff, slamming the flap to your satchel as you sit down on the bed.

"He said that?" Arthur asks, stepping forward with his hands on his belt. He sits down on your bed next to you, looking at you with concern. He's not oblivious to the way Dutch seems to be slipping, even though he doesn't want to believe it.

"He implied it." You say, shaking your head. You can't believe Dutch, what he's blaming you for. What happened on the train was no one's fault, certainly not yours.

You cross your legs on the cot, sighing and leaning your head on Arthur’s shoulder. You've been back five minutes and Dutch has already ridiculed you.

Arthur leans into your touch, placing his palm on your thigh.

"Why don't we go into town for the rest of the day. They know I'm alive now. No harm in headin' out, no one expects us to be back runnin' just yet." Arthur suggests, and you look up to him, your head still resting against his warm arm.

"But we just got back… I don't want people to think we're slackin' off." You point out, leaning back from Arthur as he reaches into his satchel.

"Let them think, c'mon. We'll take the rest of the day for ourselves." Arthur adds, and your eyes widen as he pulls a thick wad of cash out of his satchel.

"This is yours. After everything, the boys did get the take." He says, taking your palm in his hand and placing the cash in it. Your eyes boggle as you take the cash, running your eyes over the sum.

"Jesus-" You whisper, counting out two thousand dollars, swallowing thickly.

"I can't keep this all Arthur, surely some should get spread around the camp." You say, eyes flickering up to him as you grip the money in your hand. Arthur chuckles, looking at the sparkle in your eyes.

"No, that's your piece. Half of the take goes to the camp, that little box behind Dutch's tent. The other half gets divided up between them who worked the job." Arthur explains, and you smile.

"I ain't never had this much money in my life… what should I buy?" You ask, glancing up to him with a smile that warms his heart.

"Why don't we get your guns fixed up, engraved to your likin'?" Arthur suggests and your eyes twinkle.

"And a bath?" You ask.

"And we'll get you a bath." Arthur chuckles, his hand on the small of your back, "C'mon gather your things. It'll be fun, just the two of us." Arthur helps you up, and walks to the exit of your tent. Just as he parts the canvas, he stops and turns back to you.

"And Star?" He asks.

"Hmm?"

"Pack a bag. We'll rent a room for the night." He winks at you, and then he's gone outside as your breath shudders. A shiver runs up your spine, and you turn to your wardrobe to avoid the distraction.

You rummage through your things, grabbing a fresh pair of clothes, knowing you won't be needing them until the morning. You grab your carbine, swinging it over your shoulder before heading out.

When you exit the tent, you scan the area, and find Arthur tightening the straps on Athena's saddle. With a smile, you step forward, but are almost knocked over by Strauss as he scurries in front of you.

"Asshole." You hiss under your breath, following after him towards Arthur.

"Herr Morgan!" Strauss calls out, and you see Arthur roll his eyes from behind Athena.

"Whatchu want?" Arthur grumbles, patting the mare lightly before stepping around her, towards you.

"I have a debtor for you." Strauss says plainly, and your stomach turns sour.

"Name?" Arthur asks, and your brows wrinkle as you look up to him.

"His name is Thomas Downes, a farmer. A failing one at that. He owes us quite a lot. I trust you'll get that money back by whatever means possible?" Strauss asks, hinting to the beating you're sure will fall upon the man, the same beatings your father died from.

"Arthur…" You whisper, glancing between the two men. You won’t tell him what to do, he’s an adult, but your mind begs him not to go. Your father was a debtor, and you suffered for it. You know nothing good comes from the loaning business. Arthur turns back to you for a moment, biting his cheek. He looks over you quickly, and then turns back to Strauss with a sigh.

“No. I’m takin’ the lady out for the afternoon. Do your own damn dirty work, or find someone else.” Arthur bites back, harsher than you’d expected. You’re proud of the man for standing up for himself, something he seems to struggle with when the gang comes calling. You’re proud of him for choosing not to beat a man to death over a few odd dollars like they did to your daddy.

“But Herr Morgan-” Strauss says, walking after you both. Arthur places his hand in your lower back, urging you onto Athena.

“No, now shut up. Go bother someone else with your loanin’.” Arthur growls, leaving no room for Strauss to argue. Like a wounded animal, he sulks back to his tent.

“C’mon, I’ve been here an hour and I’m about sick of this place.” Arthur sighs, clambering up into Balius’s saddle.

— — —

You swing Athena’s reins over the hitching post as you dismount, stepping up onto the sidewalk as you wait for Arthur. The saloon is loud for the early hour, and your stomach turns at the sight of it. You’ve hitched the horse’s down in front of Nils’ blacksmithing shop, leaving them closer to the hotel for later. You smile at Arthur as he dismounts, coming up to the sidewalk with you.

“Whatchu wanna do first? Go to the gunsmith?” Arthur asks, looking down the street. You’re about to open your mouth when a deep, booming voice calls to you from behind.

“Miss!”

You turn around with a confused look, but it blossoms into a smile when your eyes land upon Mr. Geddes, the man who works with Nils.

“Mr. Geddes, good to see you again.” You offer as he shakes your hand.

“I'm afraid I didn’t catch your name, miss.” Mr. Geddes says, and you blush, put on the spot. You tell him your real name, and Arthur glances down at you with some confusion. You never use your real name with strangers, but for some reason you trust Mr. Geddes.

“And this is Arthur Morgan, my… my- suitor.” You chuckle, put on the spot. You blush at the term, hoping Arthur won’t mind it. What are you supposed to call him? Your friend? The man you’re in love with? You bite back a laugh.

“Yes, that would be me.” Arthur huffs, shaking Mr. Geddes’ hand.

“Ah, I see you’re the lucky recipient, it’s a fine piece. Handmade.” Mr. Geddes points to the decoration on Arthur’s hat, and Arthur nods.

“I just wanted to say hello, you two have a fine afternoon.” Mr. Geddes says, tipping his hat.

“Thank you Mr. Geddes.” You offer as he raises a hand, stepping back towards his shop. With that, you start walking towards the gunsmith, leaving Arthur catching up.

“Who in the hell was that?” Arthur asks, walking quickly to keep up with you.

“Mr. Geddes, he works with the blacksmith, got a bunch of land I guess, sells a lot of tools.” You shrug, explaining all you know about the man.

“Seemed awful excited to see you.” Arthur points out and you smirk. Is he… jealous?

“Most are, Arthur.” You smile at your sarcasm, “He’s a kind fella. Helped me out when I got your hat ornament.” You explain, and Arthur hums.

“Quit bein’ so sour, we’re on a date.” You say, falling into step with him.

“Well I hope I’m doin’ good, y'know, since I’m your suitor and all.” Arthur chuckles and you roll your eyes.

“I was put on the spot, what else was I supposed to say?” You laugh, pushing open the door to the gunsmith.

“I don’t know.” Arthur admits, voice getting quieter now that you’re inside.

“What can I do for you fine folks?” The gunsmith asks, a middle aged, dark haired man.

“Gettin’ the lady’s guns cleaned and engraved to her likin.” Arthur says for you, and you pull your carbine over your shoulder, placing it on the table. You blush at the state of it. It’s a fine gun, but it’s never been upgraded and you don’t clean it like you should.

“She gets a lot of use, huh?” The gunsmith asks regarding your weapon and you nod.

“Mounted shooting, bit of a hobby.” You lie with a smile, and Arthur raises an eyebrow at the way your lie slips through so naturally. You make a fine outlaw.

“Really?” The gunsmith asks, in awe, “Bet you have a good nag for that.” He chuckles, and you nod.

“Yes, the best.”

He flips your gun around, looking at the barrel.

“Okay I can do a lot with this. I’ll give it a proper cleanin’ and if you want we can improve the stocks and barrel. Anything you like, really. On the matter of the engravin, we have a few styles and colors to choose from. If you get an engravin’ on the grip, you can put somethin’ big like an animal. I got a real fine artist, he can do whatever you like.” The gunsmith explains as you place your revolver on the counter as well.

“Here’s some samples, go ahead n’ look through them and let me know about any upgrades.” The gunsmith says, stepping back. He grabs a case of gun oil from his counter and gets to work taking your carbine apart.

“There’s so many options…” You whisper to Arthur, looking through colors of leather for stock wraps, and examples of engravings. Arthur nods, looking at the table over your shoulder.

“Take your time, find somethin’ you like.” Arthur says.

You flip through the samples for a while, but eventually you pick a dark, walnut colored leather stock wrap, and you pick some engravings.

“I want this leather, but..” You put the engraving samples aside, “You said your engraver can do anything?” You ask.

“Sure.”

“Can I get constellations?” You ask, biting your lip, hoping that he’ll be able to.

“Of course! I think old William will find it to be a nice change of pace. Anything else?” The gunsmith asks, and you tap your foot, looking down to your revolver.

“Do all the improvements on both guns, and can I get the constellations on this one too?” You ask, sliding the revolver across the counter.

“Course!” He says, taking your weapon and unloading it.

“Oh! And a wolf.” You add, and Arthur smirks behind you, “That’s all, I swear it.”

“No problem at all, miss. I reckon you’ll be able to pick these up in the morning. William should be done by then.” The gunsmith says, brushing down the interior of your carbine’s barrel.

“Thank you, mister.” You smile brightly, looking at Arthur then. It feels damn good to have enough money to buy yourself something nice for once, something more than the bare minimum. You have nice clothes, a nice horse, nice weapons. It feels good. Arthur leads you out of the gunsmith then, and starts walking across the street towards the Keane’s saloon, avoiding Smithfield’s like the plague.

“Hungry?” Arthur asks.

“A little.” You admit, walking side by side. A wagon rolls passed, and you wait, letting them go on before continuing across.

“C’mon, let's get somethin’ to eat.” Arthur says, hand on the small of your back as you cross the street.

Keane’s saloon is smaller than Smithfield’s. It was the original town saloon, and when Smithfield’s opened, it took all the business away, leaving Keane’s in the dust. When you enter, there are only two patrons in the entire bar, a finely dressed man sitting at the bar with no drink in hand, and a clearly wasted man, armed to the teeth with iron, throwing up in the can. You wrinkle your nose, walking up to the bar with Arthur.

There is a little menu on the counter that reads: Beer, Whiskey, Lamb fry, Oatmeal.

“I’ll have a lamb’s fry, the lady can get what she wants, it's on my tab.” Arthur says, pulling out a handful of dollars.

“The oatmeal.” You hum, curiously side-eyeing the man at your side. He’s staring at Arthur, specifically the guns strapped to his hips, and some sweat collects on your forehead with anxiety.

“N’ a beer and a whiskey.” Arthur finishes up, handing over enough cash to cover the current tab. His hand reaches to hold your elbow, but you don’t let him pull you away from the bar. Instead, you turn to the well dressed man, a little fella with too much pomade in his balding hair.

“Can I help you?” You ask, sounding irritated. If there’s a problem, you’ll handle it. There’s no reason for the man to be openly staring at his weapons, unless he recognizes you both, or wants trouble.

The man is shaken out of his trance, looking up at you from his seat at the bar. He looks mighty nervous when he sees the irritated look on your face.

“I was wondering if you could, actually. That man over there, he’s a fine gunslinger- Jim Boy Calloway. Im writin’ a book about his adventures, getting the first hand account of his old gang. I have one person left to interview, but I can’t go after her. Surely, she’ll kill me!” He says, getting awfully worked up. You glance across the room to the throwing up man. He's scrawny and weak, old, and the revolvers on his hips are nothing more than rust.

“Sorry, he’s a famous gunslinger?” You chuckle, pointing to the inebriated fool in the corner.

“Yes! Best draw in the west! – Oh! How rude of me not to introduce myself, Theodore Levin, pleased to meet you.” He says, and you nod, taking his offered hand. Arthur is watching the scene play out carefully from behind you, leaning on the bar while drinking his beer. You don’t introduce yourself.

“Now I see those holsters, miss. You haven’t gotten me fooled so easily! Are you a gunslinger too? And a lady! How perfect, you must go after the Black Belle!”

“A gunslinger?” You chuckle, “Nothin’ of the sort.” You say, taking the whiskey as the tender sets it down on the bar.

“Who’s the Black Belle, anyway?” You ask, bringing the drink to your lips. Levin’s eyes light up.

“She’s a gunslinger- she's incredible. A woman outlaw– who would have thought a woman capable?” He says, amazed. You squint at him, quelling the rage in your stomach. The man’s clearly a fool, you don’t hold it against him.

“Oh– I didn’t mean a thing by it!” He quickly recovers. Arthur puts his beer down on the table a little harsher than necessary, coming up behind you. He stands at your back, one hand on your waist as he addresses the man.

“We’re actually on a date of sorts, so if you could kindly leave us be, I’d appreciate it, friend.” Arthur hisses, and you smirk at his coin ‘friend.’ You love when he does this.

“I’ll pay you! Handsomely!” Levin stumbles over his words, pulling out a few pieces of paper and a pen. You sigh, rolling your eyes lightly before looking to the back of the saloon to see if your food is nearly done.

“Whatchu want?” Arthur asks, encouraged to continue by the offer of money.

“Find Black Belle and ask her about Jim Boy Calloway.” Levin says, emphasizing the annunciation of the ‘gunslinger’s’ name.

“Why?” Arthur asks, leaning back on the bar. Levin sighs, already having answered this question.

“I'm writing a book about him and I need her accounts!” He explains again, and you nod.

"Here's her picture and some important information including her last known location and my P.O. box. If you find her, I'll need a quote and a picture! Do you have a camera mister?" Levin explains and asks, handing you a small envelope with a few items in it. You take it, tucking it away neatly in your satchel.

"Yeah, I got a camera." Arthur replies, sounding frustrated.

"Thank you, we'll think on it." You smile. Jim boy Calloway stumbles from the can, slurring his words and cursing as he stumbles out the front door.

"Oh my… I uh- Best of luck to you now!" Levin smiles, worriedly rushing towards the door, yelling after the old gunslinger.

You turn to Arthur with a chuckle and a raised eyebrow.

"What an odd man." You huff.

"Very odd- now, go find a seat. I'll bring your food over." Arthur says, and you nod.

You take your drink and walk towards the window, hearing Arthur mutter something about having you to himself for five goddamn minutes. You can't help but laugh. Besides, he'll have you to himself plenty come nightfall, you're sure.

At the thought, you glance out the window, taking a seat at a table beside it. Wagons roll by, and orange light filters through the glass from the sun resting behind the tops of the mountains. It's beautiful.

Arthur watches from across the room, an uptick of a smile on his lips, the kind that makes his crow's feet wrinkle lightly. The light covers you like a halo as you watch the people go by, looking out the window with curiosity.

"Oatmeal n' lamb." The barkeep hollers, placing the two dishes on the countertop. Arthur balances the plate and bowl, all while holding his beer and silverware as he comes over to you.

"Good spot." He says, placing everything on the table.

You take your spoon, watching carefully as he sits down with a groan and a wince.

"You hurting?" You ask, concerned. Arthur shakes his head, brushing it off as he grabs his fork.

"Nah, nothin' I can't handle." He mumbles, and you bite your cheek, making a note to keep an eye on it. Maybe you can stop at the general store on the way to the hotel, get him something for the pain. You're sure it's bad.

"I worry about you, y'know." You say, poking at your oatmeal with your spoon. Arthur eats his lamb, taking big bites.

"There's nothin' to worry about, Star. I'm alright, just a little sore." He reassures you.

"I'll get you something for the pain on the way to the hotel." You say, and he nods. He'll let you take care of him, he knows it'll ease your worries.

"You actually wanna go find that woman? The Black Belle or something?" Arthur asks, taking a bite of his food.

"Maybe. The money's good, I doubt old Levin wants to swindle us, but we should wait till we're out of Valentine first." You sigh, bouncing your knee as you push your oatmeal around your bowl. You're itching to get out of Valentine. As much as you love Horseshoe Overlook and its good memories, new and old, you don't like how close the law is. They're nearly breathing down your neck.

"What's wrong? You're barely pickin." Arthur points out. He's finished nearly half his plate, and you've done nothing but push yours around. You sigh, placing your spoon down on the table. A hundred things run through your mind.

"Just worried is all. Dutch, you gettin' Micah, the Pinkertons, we should have left already, Arthur. Then we hit that train and there's a lot of noise. What if they find us?" You whisper, voice quiet.

Arthur puts his fork down and takes your hand in his across the table. He looks right in your eyes, swearing to you.

"They won't find us. We're leavin' soon, I promise you. But tonight, don't worry about all that. It's a problem for tomorrow, todays about you and me." Arthur offers, squeezing your hand lightly. You nod quietly, picking your spoon up as you start to eat. The oatmeal is good and warm, and it fills you up quickly.

You and Arthur chat, eating together until your plates are both empty. When your bowl touches the wood, you squint, noticing the scuff marks and imprints on the table. You pick your bowl up, inspect underneath it, and smile. It's clear the table has been used for games. Games involving losing some fingers and earning some money.

“You wanna play five finger filet?” You smile devilishly, placing your bowl off to the side before pulling your knife out. Arthur looks down at the table, then up to you and immediately shakes his head.

“No- No.” Arthur argues, and you huff, rolling your eyes.

“Star–” Arthur begins before you interject him.

“What? Can’t handle it, cowboy?” You joke, scooching your chair back before stabbing your knife into the center of the table.

“I don’t want you slicin’ a goddamn finger off.” Arthur grumbles, and your shoulders slump. The barkeep watches from behind the bar, a smile on his face as he polishes glasses.

“I thought you were fun.” You pout.

“In my younger years.”

“Just one round?” You plead. Arthur sighs, clearing the table before grabbing your knife from the table.

“Alright. Just one.” He says, grabbing his pocket watch and placing it on the table.

Arthur goes first, and you watch the clock as he does. As the clock ticks down from thirty seconds, Arthur starts the pattern, hitting the table every time and not his fingers. He goes at a decent pace, but you know you can beat it. He gets six rounds before the second hand hits thirty, and you stop him.

“Six.” You smile, and he stabs the knife back into the center of the table, “You’re pretty good.” You admit with a smirk.

“Think you can beat me?” He asks, taking the golden watch from the old table.

“Oh, I know I can.”

You start quickly, and Arthur watches the time on the watch. Its hard to tell whether or not you’re going along faster than he did or not, but you focus your all into the game, trying not to lose any fingers in the process. When you hit five rounds you begin to smirk, then six… and then just before Arthur stops the clock, you get seven. You smile, holstering your knife.

“You’re gettin’ slow.” You joke, smiling as he rolls his eyes.

“That ain’t fair, you got smaller fingers than me.” Arthur complains, standing up from the table with you. You toss a five dollar bill on the table, rolling your eyes as he picks it up and hands it back to you before throwing his own bill down.

“Don’t be a sore loser.” You chuckle, walking towards the door, waving a hand at the barkeep.

Golden light filters over the mountaintops, casting the evening in a beautiful glow. The wagons and riders have mostly gone home, leaving the streets empty except for a few people enjoying the evening.

“I'm gonna stop at the general store quick, meet me at the hotel?” You ask, walking down the gunsmith’s side of the street. Arthur’s eyebrows pull together in confusion for a moment.

“Sure, you don’t want me to walk you?” He asks, and you chuckle.

“I can handle it just fine, have a maid start a bath for me.” You ask, placing your hand on his arm before letting go. He nods, walking down the sidewalk as you cross the street.

The general store has a few candles lit inside, so you push the door open, walking up to the counter.

“Evenin’ miss. We close in about thirty minutes, but take your time.” The shopkeeper greets you kindly. You nod, quickly looking over all that he has to offer before stepping up to the register.

“I won’t be a minute.” You smile, “You have a catalog mister?” You ask, and the man nods, reaching under the counter before pulling out a thick red book.

“Here’s the Wheeler and Rawson, we’ll deliver right to your home if you’d like.” He says, and you shake your head.

“That won't be necessary but thank you.”

You flip to the table of contents, running your eyes down the categories until you find the ‘tonics’ section. You flip to that specific page, looking over your options. You need something for pain, so you pick a health tonic, figuring the added herbs will help at least.

“I’ll take a health tonic, the regular one is fine.” You say, and the shopkeeper steps into a backroom to grab your item for Arthur.

You flip through the pages with your thumb, skimming over the pages when an image catches your eye. You stick your thumb on the page, looking over the clothes category. There, in the bottom corner, is an advertised silk robe. Its fancy, trimmings of lace on the cleavage, arms and along the bottom trim. It's long enough to touch the ground, and has a silk tie around the waist. It's hard to tell from the picture, but it looks very light, almost sheer due to its paleness. Your cheeks blush at the thought of you in it, and they burn at the idea of Arthur seeing you in it. It’s just a robe, you tell yourself, but hell is it a scandalous one.

The shopkeeper comes back with a dark green glass bottle of tonic, setting it in front of you while making a tab.

“Anything else you’d like?” The shopkeeper asks, and you look down to avoid his gaze.

“Yes just uh- this robe please. In white.” You ask nervously, but the shopkeeper remains professional, nodding and heading into the back. He comes back out with a decently small box; black, wrapped with a small white ribbon. The robe must be folded up inside. He places it next to the tonic, and adds it to your tab.

“That all for you, miss?” He asks and you nod, pulling a big wad of cash from your satchel. You glance down at the catalog, eyes going wide when you see the price of the robe- nearly one hundred dollars, but you figure it’ll be worth it.

“109.99 please.” The man asks, and you hand over 110. He gives you back your penny, and you stuff it all into your satchel, wondering if the passersby outside will somehow know what you’ve just purchased. You ignore it, taking your written receipt and heading out.

“Thanks mister!” You holler, pushing the door open.

You glance towards the blacksmith’s to where Balius and Athena are hitched, noticing that the stablehands have refilled the troughs and left them hay. Athena's golden ears pop up when she sees you walking across the street, and you smile at her before stepping onto the platform towards the All Saint’s Hotel.

You push the hotel door open with your new items tucked away in your satchel. Immediately upon entrance, the owner recognizes you, and you put your hand up to stop him from speaking.

“I don't want trouble. A man came in here about ten minutes ago, where is he?” You ask, cutting to the chase. The clerk seems to appreciate your honesty, nodding as he points down the hall.

“He rented a bath.” The man says, “Now I’m goin’ home for the night in an hour so miss, no trouble, please.” He pleads, and you roll your eyes at his repetition.

“You’ll get none from us.” You say, walking down the hallway.

Now that you’re familiar with the layout, having been here on more than one occasion, you go down to the bathroom. Your hand hovers over the wood, ready to knock, but you lower it, simply turning the door knob instead.

Lavender scented steam wafts out the door upon you opening it, and you inhale deeply as you step inside. Arthur is kneeling on the ground, his shirt sleeves rolled up as he swishes his hand around in the sudsy water, stirring up the bubbles. Rose petals and oats float on the surface of the water, and it smells as if he's put lavender oil in the bath as well. You shut the door behind you, and Arthur’s head pops up at the noise.

“I can leave if you like.” Arthur says, standing up from the ground, “I was just gettin’ the water ready.”

“Isn’t there a bath maid for that? Or a working woman?” You ask. Typically someone gets the water ready. You feel bad he’s had to do it himself.

“Yes,” Arthur gestures to the bath, “but I know you like the lavender soap, and the water real hot so I told them I’d take care of it.”

You smile at him, taking care of you like a gentleman, and then remember that you have to take care of him too.

“I got you something for your pain.” You mention, carefully reaching around the ribbon tied box in your satchel to grab the tonic. Arthur huffs.

“You didn’t have to, I'm alright-”

“Please just drink it Arthur, it would make me feel better.” You explain, and he smirks, taking the bottle before popping the cap off and taking a long swig. He makes a sour face, but drinks enough down before stuffing it into his satchel.

“Thank you.” He says, tipping his head.

Arthur moves for the door, wiping his hands on a hand towel, but you grip his forearm, stopping him before he can step out.

“Don’t go.” You plead, grip tight on his arm. When he turns to catch your eyes, he can see how much you want him to stay. So of course he does. He'd move the heavens or fetch you the moon if you asked him to.

Arthur takes his time undressing you. He unties your little neckerchief first, setting it neatly on the dressing table before he moves to the bigger items of your clothing. With the adrenaline from your crashing together gone, you find yourself a bit self conscious as he strips you of your clothes, but you say nothing. Your breath shudders against him as he undoes the buttons of your shirt, it’s something he picks up on immediately.

“You’re nervous.” He points out. You nod lightly.

“A little.” You admit, thinking of what the rest of the night will entail. You were too worried about his safety last night, you didn’t have time to doubt yourself or feel insecure.

“S’okay. Let’s just get you cleaned up, we don’t gotta do anythin’ sweetheart.” He offers quietly, and you nod. He pulls your shirt down over your arms, eyes running over your body.

“So perfect…” He whispers, thumb rubbing circles over the skin below your breasts. You smile at his compliment, some of the anxiety falling away before he lowers you into the bath.

The water is hot, the perfect temperature as your skin meets its embrace. The tub is deep, and the water comes just over your breasts once you relax against the lip of the tub. The aroma of lavender swirls through your head, replacing any remaining anxiety with bliss. Arthur gets back on his knees beside the tub, and your hand snakes out from the soapy water to rest on top of his.

“This is perfect, thank you.” You sigh, eyes slipping shut. There is a nice, tooled slat of wood over the bath, and on it is a small assortment of soaps and a half filled decanter of whiskey. It looks expensive

the crystal reflects the firelight beautifully, shimmering and sparkling like snow in fresh light. Arthur picks up the crystal decanter and pours two glasses. You sit up to take the one offered to you, sipping the burning liquid. Arthur dips a small pail into the water, filling it completely.

“Close your eyes, darlin’.” Arthur says just over a whisper, and you set your drink down before slipping your eyes shut. Warm water cascades down your hair and back, but none gets on your face or eyes from the hand Arthur uses to shield them. He rinses your hair until it's completely drenched before placing the bucket down.

There is a rose scented bar of soap on the bath table, and Arthur grabs it, lathering it between his hands. Then his hands are entangled into your hair, scrubbing and scratching at your scalp as you moan. Arthur chuckles at your reaction, his fingers working delicately to scrub your hair, getting your scalp thoroughly clean all the way.

“That smells so good.” You exhale, eyes closed as Arthur fills the pail again and begins rinsing your hair out. After a handful of rinses, your hair is all clean and he brushes through it with his fingers. Once he’s done, you look up to him, overcome with the emotion of him taking care of you. No one has ever treated you so kindly. You look into his green eyes. They are unnoticing of your gaze, directed to where he sets the bucket down.

“Kiss me.” You plead, arms resting on the side of the bath as you lean over the metal lip. Arthur leans forward, his hand lining your cheek as he takes your lips. You tilt your head, opening your mouth as Arthur gives you butterflies, yet again. When he pulls away, his eyes are searching yours with a question.

“Back when I was in here, after Tommy… You almost kissed me. Why didn’t you?” Arthur asks. He realizes it's unimportant now, but he’s still curious. You had pulled away from him, and then curled into his bed the same night. Your head falls some, and you play with your hands under the murky water.

“Guess I was just afraid… of hurting you or getting hurt.” You admit out loud, and it feels good to get off your chest. Arthur sees the sadness creeping onto your face, and he's quick to fix it.

“None a’ that dancin’ around matters now.” Arthur whispers, index finger hooking under your chin, pulling you to plant one small kiss to your lips. You could kiss him forever and never get used to it.

He picks up the rose scented bar again, reaching behind him to grab a washcloth. You watch the bubbles pop under his touch as he lathers the cloth, dipping it under the murky water again. You slip your eyes closed, relaxing fully as he runs the cloth over your neck and chest.

His hand heats up the washcloth all on its own as he spreads the soap across your body. Silently, with a wrinkle of concentration, he cleans you up. Your wet skin glistens in the firelight, goosebumps rising on your arms

“You just wanna relax for a bit longer?” Arthur asks, and you nod, sinking deeper into the bath.

"Okay, sweetheart. Take your time, just come knock on the door when you're finished. I got the big room, 1A."

"I'll be right up." You smile, bringing your knees up to your chest under the water.

Arthur wipes his hands on the hand towel before walking out of the room. Your eyes flicker to your satchel resting on the little table beside your clothes, and you bite your lip, thinking of the bow tied box resting in it. Your fingers tap along the side of the bath for just a moment before you push yourself up, water dripping down from your hair as you step out of the tub.

The bath towel is big and soft on your skin, wrapping you up completely as you dry yourself and your hair as best as you can. Then the gray cotton slumps to the floor as you drop it, stepping forward to the table.

The box is of fine quality, and you pull the white ribbon, watching it release until it flutters to the ground. You pull the top of the box off, revealing the white silk robe. It's absolutely stunning, even more beautiful than in the catalogue as you pull it out.

You smile as you pull it over your shoulders, tying the silk ribbon at your waist before moving to the mirror. White silk cascades down from your hips, pooling on the floor in a small train. The lace on your chest and arms isn't scratchy, but soft, and it leaves just enough to the imagination. It's absolutely indecent to wear anywhere but to bed, but you have a few plans in mind. Smiling at yourself in the mirror and bouncing on your toes, you move to the door.

The hotel clerk should have gone home by now, but you still crack the door open and peek your head out. You hear nothing and see no one, so quietly you step out. The door clicks behind you, and you gather your silk skirt in your hand, scurrying into the hallway and up the stairs as quickly as possible. The wood is cold on your bare feet as you carry all your items, smiling and feeling like a schoolgirl as you run up the empty staircase.

You know he's waiting for you, and you wonder if he has anything else planned or if he's waiting to take you to bed. Either way, you smile, reaching the top of the steps and turning left. The door labeled 1B reaches your eyes, and you raise your hand to knock.

"Arthur? It's me." You whisper, knocking lightly on the door. You hear footsteps approaching before the door unlocks. You fix your robe quickly, pulling the cleavage down just a little, before the door opens.

"You enjoy your…?" Arthur pauses, eyes on yours before he slowly trails them down your figure. He swallows thickly, seeing the way the silk clings to your body before pooling to the ground past your hips. His eyes flicker up to the lace at your cleavage, and he blushes something fierce, reaching for your hand.

"Star.. you look- where did you get this?" He chuckles, blushing even further as he rubs some of the silk between his fingers.

"The store." You smile, hair falling down in front of your face as you look down at yourself.

"You look incredible." He whispers, hand resting on your waist. It's then that he realizes all that you're carrying, and he curses himself, taking your satchel and boots from your hands

"Shit- I'm sorry. Here, let me take your things." Arthur whispers, setting everything down on the dresser. You step inside, hands toying together as you wait.

"I got one more thing planned, c'mon." Arthur smiles proudly, taking your hand.

You walk side by side as he leads you down the hall. You pick up your skirts again, and you notice the way Arthur looks down at you on multiple occasions, groaning ever so lightly in his chest.

He leads you to the end of the hall, and out the door onto the back porch. It's just a small platform, and the only way to go is down the stairs. When you look over at Arthur, he's eyeing the roof, and your eyes go wide.

"Forgive me for not havin' a proper way to get you up here." Arthur chuckles and you roll your eyes.

"I ain't never been proper, now help me up." You joke, watching him jump up and grab the roof. He pulls himself up with a surprising amount of ease.

"You climb buildings often?" You laugh as he leans down and takes your hand.

"Usually, when I'm robbin' 'em." Arthur huffs, pulling you up as gently as he can manage. Eventually you not so gracefully land on the roof. It's flat, and from it you can see the the tops of The Grizzlies, the entire way down to the plains in Blackwater. You stare in awe, stepping closer to the edge as you look out over the town and the miles of nature beyond.

"It's beautiful." You whisper as Arthur stands behind you, pulling your back to his chest.

"Sure is." Arthur mumbles, eyes on you as his hands grip your waist.

"Got some chocolate n whiskey." Arthur says, and you turn around curiously.

You hadn't even noticed the decent sized, thick blanket resting in the middle of the roof, or the bottles of Tennessee whiskey and the chocolate bar. Your lips form into a pout as you step forward, robe swaying in the breeze as you lay down on your back.

"Come sit with me." You ask of him, and he comes forward, resting beside you on the blanket.

You lay beside him, hands resting on your stomach as you look up at the sky.

"Been a while since I looked at 'em." You point out, eyes running over the bright stars. You look over the clusters, how they shine and shimmer, wondering if that same shine still resides in you.

"I noticed." Is all he says.

"Which is your favorite?" You ask, finding lupus and locking your eyes on his howling figure.

"My favorite star?" He asks, looking over to you.

"Well, yeah, star- or your favorite constellation." You clarify.

"Never really thought much about it." He says, and then it grows quiet. So much has changed since Tumbleweed, and yet you stare up at the same stars you looked at all that time ago. It frightens you, knowing how badly things have gone in such a short amount of time.

"What now, Arthur?" You ask, taking the chocolate and breaking it into pieces, "Where are we goin'? What is Dutch's grand plan?" You ask. Arthur sighs, the same worries clouding his head.

"Well, we're supposed to be headin' out west. We still are, if we can get around the law." Arthur explains.

"And if we can't?"

"Dutch has a plan. He'll get us outta this, he always does." Arthur says, his faith to Dutch shows, blind as it may be.

"What else is on your mind?" Arthur asks, hand gripping yours from where it rests between your bodies. You hold his hand on your abdomen, playing with his fingers to distract yourself.

"Tell me about Mary." You blurt out. You don't regret it though. Now that you're together, the matter of his ex-fiancé sending him letters is something that should concern you. Arthur stills beside you, and then his head turns, looking to your eyes.

"Okay I will, but you gotta give me somethin' too. No more closin' off." He mumbles, and you nod. You don't have anything to hide from him anymore.

Arthur sits up on the blanket, and you follow suit, grabbing one of the whiskey bottles and setting it in front of him. He undoes the cap, bringing the bottle to his lips before handing it back to you.

"Well Mary n' I met when we was real young, even before Eliza. I was just a kid- eighteen." Arthur sighs. You take a drink from the whiskey bottle, savoring the burn, and hand it back to him.

"We were fools, living separate lives. We wanted different things entirely, but still eachother somehow. She was high society. I'd been runnin' with Dutch for three years, was still learnin' to read and write." Arthur laughs humorlessly.

"Asked her to marry me, she said yes. But her daddy didn't like me one bit. He said I was a 'no good degenerate'. Guess he was right on that account."

"He was not right." You correct, stealing back the whiskey and drinking some down. Owls hoot in the distance, and your head looks in their direction for just a moment before you return to Arthur.

"He treated me real bad; humiliated me, scolded me. Came a point where Mary broke it off. Said her daddy wouldn't allow her, but she also didn't want my life or my money. Just… didn't work out." He sighs.

Your eyes flicker from the bottle you've just handed him up to his eyes, sensing the deep, old pain.

"Did you love her?" You ask, pulling your legs closer to yourself.

"Thought I did. It's different, I guess. Back in that time I thought I loved her, but it weren't like-" He trails off, shaking his head.

He thought that he loved Mary, but Arthur never loved her like he loves you.

You swallow thickly, wondering if those were the words on the tip of his tongue. Either way it doesn't matter, he never says them.

"You ever been in love?" Arthur asks, and you frown, playing with the lace cuff of your robe.

"No." You state plainly.

"Why?" Arthur asks, eyebrows pulling together. He was surprised to find out that you had never taken to a man, and he's even more surprised to find that you've never loved one. He hands you the whiskey, sure you need it.

"I stayed home most of my childhood. Didn't get much chance to meet boys. Momma home schooled me, so I didn't have school mates." You take a swig of whiskey, slipping your eyes closed as it burns a trail down your throat.

"Never had the chance to fall in love really. After my daddy died and I killed that man, I- I never got close to no one." You admit, hoping he won't judge you for being on your own for so long. When you glance up, you find no judgment, just understanding.

"And how long we're you runnin? You didn't run with anyone? You didn't have anyone with you at all?" Arthur asks, wondering how you navigated it all on your own. He sees a whole new strength to you, and begins to understand why you have so many walls up.

"About a year, I think." You admit, a tear slipping down your cheek that you wipe away, "You're the first person I ever opened up to."

Your lip trembles, looking up to him with watery eyes. It frustrates you, how much you've been crying lately, and you huff, wiping them away with your sleeve.

"Stayed closed off to avoid gettin' hurt and hurtin' others. It worked… till you came along." You chuckle, a smile breaking through your tear-tracked face.

He takes one of your hands, soothingly running his thumb over your knuckles. Amongst your upset, the shoulder of your robe has slipped down your shoulder, and Arthur leans in to fix it so you're not left indecent.

"Can I ask you somethin'?" Arthur asks. You nod, he can ask anything at all.

"Your daddy… You said he was real mean after he took to the bottle?" Arthur asks, and you nod, unsure of where he's going.

"Yes." You say, not following his train of thought.

"He ever hurt you?" Arthur asks, and you look down to his hand on yours, avoiding his gaze.

"Sometimes, yes, when he was drunk."

"Why did you fight for him, Star?" Arthur asks, voice quiet. Your eyes flicker up to his green ones, and you look almost offended by his ask.

"What do you mean?" You ask, a bit defensively.

"When my daddy died, I reckon it was the first good day a' my life." Arthur admits, swallowing heavily, "It was me that got the law." Arthur admits, searching your eyes for any hatred or disgust and finding none. He's never told a soul that, not even Dutch or Hosea. It was a secret he was sure he'd die with. Your eyes go wide, your hand stills on his.

"What?" You ask, not fully grasping what he's just said from the shock of it all.

"I set him up so he got hanged… Didn't put the rope around his neck, but I killed him just the same." Arthur says, no sense of regret in his eyes.

"I don't regret it, never did. So I'm just askin, why did you get revenge for your Pa if he was hurting you?" Arthur asks, and you're so thrown off by his question that you pull away from his touch, shaking your head. He's got this all wrong.

"I… After Momma died, all I had was memories. My daddy was hurtin', drunk and mean, but he was still my daddy, the same man who taught me to ride and shoot. He used to be kind before the drink got a hold of him." You whisper, tears welling in your eyes, but you don't let them fall.

"I guess I wasn't just takin' revenge for my daddy, but for what could have been. I could have been raised up good by my parents, gone to some ladies school or somethin." You laugh, but it's shortlived.

"They'd be real disappointed if they could see me now." You admit, thinking over your actions, your bounty and the growing number of victims you've left behind.

"No, no they would not be disappointed in you." He says, hands grabbing each of yours as he reassures you. You nod, trying to listen to his reassurances. He pulls you forward on the blanket until you're resting in between his legs, leaning against his chest. He wraps his arms around you, holding you tight against him.

"I'm proud of you for talkin' about it." Arthur whispers, pressing a kiss to your hair.

"It's not so hard, talkin to you." You admit to him. From his arms, you glance up at the sky and see a shooting star, it zips across the skyline before the fire dies out, and turns to nothing. When you glance over, you see Arthur is looking as well.

"What's your wish?" You whisper against his warm skin.

"Oh, I already got my wish, darlin." He whispers back, hand rubbing circles on your back.

— — — —

The door clicks shut behind Arthur, and your heart thrums in anticipation. You hear his spurs click as he walks up behind you, arms wrapping around your waist. The bed is huge. Its thick, red comforter is welcoming from where it's sticking out in the middle of the room. On the wall adjoined to the headboard is a fireplace, with orange flames that heat the room. Albeit the fire, your body seems to be heating all on its own with Arthur’s arms around you.

“You tired?” He asks, and you shake your head.

“No.” You stutter, frustrated with the way you melt into putty in his hands. You turn around in his arms, hands sliding up to rest on his chest with a deep breath.

“Show me what you want.” Arthur whispers, hands gripping onto your waist. Looking up to him, seeing the dark look in his eyes, the freckles that dot across his face like stars in the sky, the smile lines from old and new joys, it seems painfully obvious what you want.

“I want you.”

And of course, he gives himself to you. He always will. His hands find the ties to your silk robe, and with one small tug to the sheer, snow colored silk, it falls to the ground. Without the rushed fear that pulled you both together last time, Arthur can really take his time looking you over. His eyes trail down your form, hands finding purchase on your waist.

“So beautiful.” He mutters, smiling when his eyes land upon your face. Your hair is still wet, forming small waves as it falls down your back. You practically glow, and the room is filled with the aroma of lavender as you step closer to him, infiltrating all of his senses. You lean on your tiptoes to kiss him, heels only hitting the ground once he leans down to take your lips. The kiss is not desperate like it was the night before, but instead, slow and passionate and wanting. Your lips are soft against his, meeting his pace.

He holds your chin, tilting it to the side before his tongue slips into your mouth. It’s like a flower blossoming for the second time. You’d thought surely nothing could top the emotion and the feelings you had last night, but you were wrong. Again, a tether pulls you two together, and it's so tight that you're sure nothing could pull you two apart. You reach for the buttons to his shirt. The little plastic circles pull apart from their keepers quickly, as if understanding the importance of their juxtaposition.

You pop the buttons out one by one, gasping as Arthur's lips connect with your neck. Your fingers pause for a moment as you take a moment to lean into his kisses, exposing your neck to him further. You whimper as Arthur slowly kisses your neck, feeling some suction and a small nip.

"Arthur, you're gonna leave a mark." You whisper, eyes fluttering as your hands still on his buttons. He pulls away only for a second.

"Good." He mumbles, lips kissing down to your collarbone where he repeats the same process.

"People will see." You point out, but your body betrays your mind, leaning into his touch with a moan. Your hands find the strength to continue pulling buttons out of keepers, making progress on the shedding of his clothes.

"Let 'em see." He hums against your skin, leaving a few dark marks.. He runs his thumb over the splotches, soothing the throb.

Once the last button is undone, you tug upwards at the bottom of his shirt, pulling it out from where it's tucked into his chaps. His hands run over your body, gliding and fondling and squeezing until you slide his plaid shirt down over his arms. Your hands run over the expanse of his chest, pausing once they reach the trail of dusty blonde hair that trickles down his abdomen and disappears under his jeans. He does the honors of taking his gun belt off, dropping it down to the ground before doing the same for his chaps. You step toward him, fingers wrapping around the zipper to his jeans as you pull down the metal, anticipation growing with each click.

"You're so beautiful…" Arthur whispers, leaning in to kiss your lips. Your heart flutters with anticipation and lust and love, but it's over too quickly as he pulls away again.

"My star." He ghosts over your lips with his thumb, eyes looking into each of yours.

You shudder, looking up to him with wide eyes before urgently finishing with the button on his jeans. He steps out of the denim, leaving the two of you completely bare again.

The fire in the mantle burns nearly as bright as the one in your abdomen, warming the room and yourself. Arthurs hands are on you as soon as he's free from his clothing. In one stride he comes forward, one hand gripping around your waist while the other cups your cheek. Your heart melts as he kisses you again, walking forward until the backs of your knees hit the bed. Alcohol has loosened your limbs and secured your confidence, you know what you want. So, with swollen lips and sparkling eyes, you nudge Arthur towards the bed.

"Ya sure?" Arthur asks, making sure you're comfortable taking charge. You nod, pushing him lightly down to the bed. Arthur sits up with his back against the headboard, and you look at him, feeling so lucky. Fate really managed to align the stars for the two of you.

Your eyes trail over his body, from his silk hair, his green eyes, following the trail of brown hair until they reach his member, standing big and tall. You swallow, glancing back up to Arthur.

"We got all night." Arthur reassures you, extending his hand out. You take his hand, and he pulls you forward as you climb onto the bed and sit over him on your knees. You're face to face, your head sitting taller than his because you're raised on your knees. You take a moment to drink him in, your soft hands running over his tanned skin.

Your hands find purchase on either side of his face, and you pull him up to kiss you. He tastes like whiskey, and the smell of lavender and rose swirls between the two of you. You moan into his mouth needily before he pulls away. Your head tosses back and your fingers intertwine into Arthur's hair as he kisses your left breast, massaging the other with his hand.

He pulls away a fraction of an inch, breath hot on your skin.

"This okay?" He asks, and you nod with your eyes slipped closed, pulling him back to your chest.

His tongue licks over your nipple, a new sensation and a tantalizing one. You moan, a high pitched whimper, and Arthur has to compose himself for a moment. His fingers that are pinching your soft skin release, and he trails them down over your hip, across your thigh…

You gasp when they brush against your core, and Arthur's chest shudders when he feels just how wet you are for him. Arthur doesn't move, and you grind against his finger, gripping onto him tightly as you moan.

"Please."

It's all it takes, and he slips a finger inside, curling it until he feels that swollen sweet spot. You grip onto his shoulders, the firelight dancing in your eyes as you moan.

"My beautiful girl…" Arthur mutters, his palm rubs against your clit as he works you, lips kissing every inch of skin that they can reach.

His words spur you on, and your nails dig into his shoulders. Not wanting to wake the whole town with your noises, Arthur crashes his lips against yours. You moan against his mouth, the fluttering in your core turns to waves as you approach a climax against Arthur's hands. At first you think you should wait, climax with him instead of on his fingers, but it feels too good to stop him. His other hand traces over your skin, squeezing your hip.

"Don't– Don't stop." You whimper against his lips, and Arthur focuses on keeping a steady pace for you. It builds and builds until inevitably it comes crashing down, and your whole body is racked with waves of intense pleasure.

You pull away from his lips to gasp and moan, hips grinding against his hand perfectly as your orgasm hits you. Arthur's member is hard against his stomach, twitching with every one of the moans you elicit. Your legs shake on either side of him, your head tossed back, exposing your throat. You look so beautiful atop him, and he's the proudest man in the world knowing that he's the only one you're like this for.

"Easy darlin', you're doin' so good." He mumbles against the skin of your throat as you come down, panting.

"Shit, Arthur. That was so– that was so good." You pant, resting your forehead on his own as you try and catch your breath.

“Let me know when you’re ready.” Arthur whispers, breaths mixing in with your own. You take a few minutes to recuperate, catching your breath and waiting for the tingling in your core to subside. Arthur waits until you tell him to continue, hands gripping onto your legs and hips, kissing your neck and chest.

“I’m ready.” You nod, and he adjusts himself underneath you. You raise your hips off of his lap, guiding him inside you as you slide down onto his length.

“Oh-” You moan, tossing your head back as you wince slightly from the stretch. He can reach much deeper in this position, and it'll take some getting used to.

“Y’okay?” Arthur asks in between a groan.

“Yes.” You moan, whimpering as you slide down a bit further.

“Just go slow, it’ll make it easier, n’ we can stop if you want.” Arthur whispers against your skin. With him sitting up, your chests are nearly against eachother, giving him the perfect vantage point to lean up and whisper into your ear,

“No, I don’t want to stop, I’m okay.” You quickly respond. You slide down slowly until he’s completely buried in you, moaning as he bumps into your sensitive sweet spot again.

Even the firelight reflecting on the walls feels as if it's intruding this moment as you start to rise on your knees, riding Arthur. He groans deep in his chest, and it spurs you to continue on. You go slow, and pull Arthur’s face up to yours in a needy kiss. He fights back his instinct to groan into your mouth, whilst you don’t even attempt to stop yours.

“Oh it feels so good-” You moan, and Arthur smirks against your lips, gripping your hips to stop your movements. At first you worry you’ve done something wrong, or he wasn’t enjoying himself, but all your worries melt away as he drags your hips back and forth over him.

Immediately you shudder, arms wrapping around to the back of Arthur’s head as he kisses and toys with your breasts. With the way he’s maneuvering your hips, his tip bumps into your swollen g-spot, and your clit drags against his pelvic bone, giving you an intense mixture of pleasure.

“How's this feel?” He whispers against your chest, and you arch your back, rocking against him.

“Oh- Arthur, good, so good, please don’t stop.” You stumble over your words as he looks up to you.

Your eyes are slipped closed, mouth formed into an ‘o’ as you moan and whimper from his touch. You grip onto him with just as much need as you had last night, but somehow this feels even more intimate, because it's twenty four hours later and you’re still choosing each other. The adrenaline and the fear have passed, but the one constant is the want. Be it emotional or sexual, you both want each other impossibly more than the day prior. Looking up at you now, Arthur is sure he’s in love with you, madly, desperately in love with you. What he had with Mary is a mere spark compared to the overwhelming burn that he feels for you. He won’t tell you, not until you’re ready to hear it but he knows.

He continues his ministrations, and you feel the now familiar fluttering in your gut.

“Oh, I’m close, don’t stop-” You mutter again, losing your composure as you stutter and moan, whimpering and gripping him as tightly as you can. Your walls constrict around him as you come undone again, something you didn’t even know was possible. You curse loudly, hips rocking against him at that same tantalizing pace until your orgasm peaks and falls.

“Good girl, that’s it.” Arthur coos as you pant. It doesn’t take long with those noises you make, plus the sight of you alone.

“I ain’t-” Arthur groans, eyes squinted shut as he grabs your hips tightly, “I ain’t gonna last much longer.”

You keep your pace, incentive coming from the sound of his groans that fill the room. You can feel him twitching and pulsing inside you, and you know he must be teetering. With your arms wrapped around his neck, you kiss him one more time, lips locking together in between hushed pants and moans. Arthur groans against your lips, and in a swift movement he pulls out of you. His hips buck against your stomach a few times before he finishes between your bodies, groaning loudly. Your foreheads still rest against one another’s, beads of sweat trailing down your skin and covering you both in a glistening sheen.

“Christ alive, Star.” Arthur exhales, and you smirk.

“I dread going back to camp… how will we keep quiet?” You ask, slowly climbing off of him with a wince as he gets up from the bed.

“That's a problem for later.” Arthur chuckles. He gets a wet rag, one he’d brought up from the bath house, and puts expert care in cleaning you up. He’s gentle, wiping away his spend from your belly until you’re back to your fresh clean state. He picks your robe up from the floor, handing it to you before grabbing his jeans.

“Come sit on the deck with me.”

You catch your silk robe, pulling it over your shoulders. Arthur parts the french doors straight from the room out onto the deck, and you watch as he leans over the rail, pulling a pack of cigarettes from his satchel.You follow him, tying the silk ribbon as you step outside.

“New pack. You do the honors.” Arthur mumbles, holding the open pack of cigarettes out to you. You choose the one in the top left corner, pulling it out, flipping it, and sticking it back in. Then he picks a separate cigarette, placing it between your lips before lighting a match and holding it up to the smoke between your lips.

“Today was perfect. I mean that. Thank you, for everything, Arthur.”

You pass the cigarette back and forth until its spent, and then you sit on the deck and talk for a while. Eventually he pulls you back through the french doors and rids you of your fine robe all over again. It’s the only night you know you’ll have him. You both reckon the gang will be leaving soon, and who knows where you’ll end up. But tonight, none of these worries plague your mind. Your only concern is Arthur, and the feel of his body on, under and in yours. You cling to him tightly, spending the entire night together until the sun begins to peak past the horizon. New days are coming, days where you don’t have to hide behind your feelings anymore.

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