#✧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ☆ —— this is the last damn thing that i hold close to me ⌗ dalphahale ( allison x derek ) .

[flemingology]

mistletoe ─ alexia putellas x reader

part of my christmas series. full masterlist here!

in which: you try to drop hints to alexia through your christmas decoration

warnings: oblivious alexia deserves a warning on its own

wc: 6.5k

a/n: merry christmas eve to all of you, i loved writing this. i'm glad you all finally get to read this. i hope you enjoy this and i hope you enjoy your evening, if you're celebrating. <3

You and Alexia had met a couple years ago at the driving range which you worked at. The Spaniard, accompanied with some of her Barcelona teammates, had picked out your work place as their team bonding haven for the afternoon. You had taken a gap year between your bachelors and masters, spending 12 months in Spain with your aunt, in her apartment in the Barcelona city centre. You'd picked up a side job at the driving range which kept you busy throughout the year, but left you more than enough time to soak in the Spanish sun and to explore the rowdy streets of Barcelona.

You and her hit it off immediately, cracking jokes off of each other any time you had the chance. She liked how you didn't seem to treat her as Alexia Putellas – the footballer, but just as Alexia. Human Alexia. Not the one that everyone seemed to want a signature from, or a picture with, but just the one in her day-to-day life. The persona that she didn't get to be most of the times when she was out and about, so it was a welcome change for her.

By the end of their time at the driving range, Alexia had had to endure endless teasing and torturing from her friends about her connection with you. The midfielder hadn't had a romantic interest in a good while, forever claiming she was too busy, but she knew damn well that was a little white lie to cover up for the fact that – despite the attention she faced every single day – she was just really, really shy. So when her friends realized that Alexia was hitting it off with one of the workers from the range, they were adamant that she tried to get your number.

While you were closing up, putting the last sets of chairs on tables and making sure all lights were off and doors were locked, you were suddenly startled by a tap on your shoulder. You couldn't conceal the squeal that escaped your lips, but were quickly comforted once you turned around and saw the face that you'd been thinking about all afternoon.

Alexia's advances had definitely gotten to you throughout the afternoon. You remained professional, but you found yourself gravitating towards their lane every time you had a free moment. You spent most of your time mingling with Alexia and her friends, talking about everything and nothing. It was safe to say that a little flirting had occurred, but you knew who Alexia was and you wouldn't have put it past her for that to be something she did on a daily. You assumed that the Ballon d'Or-winning midfielder could have about anyone she wanted, so you quickly wiped the thought away of her being into you of all people.

"Oh, Alexia, it's you," you chuckled, holding your hand over your chest where your heart would be. "Lo siento, I didn't mean to scare you," Alexia said, her Spanish accent seeping through whenever she spoke English. "Don't worry. Everything okay? Was everything to your guys liking?" She gave you a curt nod, and moved her weight from one leg to the other. She seemed a little restless, but you couldn't put your finger on the emotions that were etched on her face.

Alexia opened and closed her mouth a couple of times, trying to come up with the right thing to say. You were just about to make a joke, when she reached into the crossbody bag she was carrying and pulled out a piece of paper. "Do you have a... uhm," she frowned, looking around. "How you say... una birome?"

A small smile tugged at the corner of your lips, amused at how restless the otherwise so composed footballer seemed. Despite your efforts, though, you couldn't help Alexia with her translation. You'd picked up a couple classes here and there, and your Spanish had gotten a lot better ever since you started your year out here, but your knowledge of the language still left a lot to be desired.

"Una biroma?" you replied, cocking your eyebrow at her. "No, birome. E, not a," Alexia frowned and seemed to have forgotten about what she actually needed, busying herself with explaining the pronunciation of the word. "Alexia, what do you need?" you interrupted her before she could get lost in her words, both wanting her to tell you what she wanted, but you were also running late to dinner with your aunt. You needed to lock up the range and drive home quick if you wanted to beat the evening traffic, but Alexia was giving you a hard time at doing so.

"Something to write, uh..." "A pen?" "Sí, a pen!"

A breathy laugh escaped your lips as Alexia's face lit up. You reached into your back pocket and pulled out the pen you used to write down people's drink orders during the day. "Here. This should do, why do you need it?"

Alexia snatched the pen from your hands and scribbled something down on the piece of paper she'd taken from her bag. Before you could grasp what was happening, she was done and pushed both the paper and the pen back in your hands, before rushing off towards the parking lot. You could just about clamp onto both before they fell down, calling after Alexia, but to no avail. She'd already turned the corner outside and she was out of sight. You shook your head and frowned, wondering what could've startled her all of a sudden. You opened up the crumpled piece of paper and noticed she'd written down her number, a couple scratched out numbers and it was written all wonky. She had clearly been nervous about giving you her number, but you still didn't feel like it warranted her just running out on you like that.

You couldn't help the warm feeling that nestled itself into your stomach at the fact you had seemed to make Alexia Putellas nervous. The Alexia Putellas, 3-time UWCL winner, 2-time Ballon d'Or winner, had gotten so incredibly nervous around you that she sprinted away when she gave you her number.

What you didn't know, whilst you were locking up, is that Alexia was receiving an unimaginable amount of stick at how she handled the situation, but her friends were silently proud of her nonetheless for at least attempting at putting herself out there. They know she struggled with it and for her to make this first step, despite all the pushing by her friends, it was a big leap.

Later that night, when you arrived back home from dinner with your aunt, you decided that would be a good time to message Alexia. You didn't feel like it was appropriate to text her right away, deciding to let some tension build up between the both of you before you allowed her the reprieve of knowing you liked her back.

You texted a little back and forth that same evening, and before you knew it had you a date set in your calendar. You'd agreed on going for coffee the day after, and the rest was history.

But what first seemed like happily ever after, was going to be nothing like it. Not in the slightest. Your first date with Alexia was amazing. The energy you shared at the driving range carried over to the café, the both of you sharing a couple hours talking about everything and nothing with each other. You talked about her career, her youth, her path up to where she was right now, and you talked about your studies, your home back in England and your experiences in Barcelona. You thought the two of you shared a real connection, but you couldn't shake the tinge of disappointment you felt when you didn't end the date with a kiss.

Nonetheless, a second date came, and the two of you still hit it off. You conversed like you'd known each other for years, never a moment of silence when you were together. It felt right with Alexia, you felt comfortable and you could tell she felt the same. And even if you couldn't sense it, you knew because she told you. She opened up about how she felt like she could be herself around you, a welcome change from her usual day-to-day life where she felt like she had to perform and be the version of herself 24/7, day in day out. Your heart had warmed at her words, and you couldn't help but hope that this time, your date would end with a kiss. But nothing was less true.

Weeks went on, date after date happened, you had both been to each other's apartments, but that base hadn't been covered yet. Despite your – sometimes not so subtle – hints, you started falling into a pattern of just casual friendship. It felt like, every week, the mountain was becoming higher to climb. The tension was palpable between the two of you and you knew the Spaniard could feel it too. She'd been more careful around you, a little less expressive and a little less touchy. You don't know who initiated what, but you knew something had changed in the air.

Before long, you started having doubts about the whole ordeal. You knew that, going into this, you were dating a professional footballer. You knew how their schedules got, how busy they were, especially someone like Alexia. Their time at football didn't just stop at practices and games, it was meetings, shoots, media events and so on. Alexia had weaved around her appointments to be able to see you regularly, but it had started to feel like she was slipping away a little.

-

Christmas was around the corner, your favorite time of year. Work had died down tremendously, understandable seen the ranges were outside. No one was interested in freezing their asses off playing some golf around this time of year. But from time to time, you had some customers that came in for a drink. You had gotten through most of your workday on Monday afternoon, when suddenly your phone chimed with a message.

From: Ale ⭐️ Hola, chica. Are you at work? I'm passing by soon. Wanna say hi. :)

You smiled at your phone, the message perfectly encapsulating what had drawn you in about Alexia. She was so sincere, she made you feel like you were genuinely important. She went out of her way to see you, even if it was just for an hour, she would move her shoot and shorten her time for the media just so she could grab a coffee with you. That's why the lack of romantic connection between the both of you confused you. There were a handful of times where you felt like you were going to take the first step, but you didn't want to push her into something that you weren't sure whether she wanted. She had opened up to you about how hard she found it to manage a relationship with her career, so the last thing you wanted to do was force one onto her. That's the reason why you decided to let her come to you, but months had passed now and nothing happened. The two of you had fallen into a comfortable rhythm of seeing each other weekly, catching up over a coffee or a film in either's apartment, but the midfielder seemed content with the situation you found yourself in right now, and it had started frustrating you to no end.

On one side, you assumed that it would be better to cut contact. You had to admit it, you were falling for Alexia and if you wanted to make sure you didn't get too hurt from the fall, you had to put yourself first and make an end to it. But you couldn't. Not when her strong arms engulfed you in a hug when she hadn't seen you for a week, not when you came home to your plushies meticulously arranged on top of your made bed as a thank you for letting her stay over the night before, and especially not when her lips softly kissed your cheek every time she wished you goodbye, eye contact lingering a little longer than you should, forever wishing she was kissing your lips goodnight instead of your cheeks goodbye.

You quickly rid yourself of your thoughts and sent Alexia a reply, not wanting to keep her waiting too long.

To: Ale ⭐️ Yeah, I'm at the range.

You didn't intend to be curt, but you had gotten worked up about the situation in your head and didn't feel like being overly nice to her right now. You finished up a bit of work and managed to answer a couple emails before Alexia's arms wrapped around your shoulders, pressing a kiss against the side of your head as you turned around and got up from your chair, meeting her embrace with one of your own.

"Hola," Alexia mumbled against the side of your face, squeezing you a little tighter before letting go of your body and placing her hands back in the front pocket of her hoodie. You took a moment to take her in. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail that was trying it's best to keep all her hair at bay, but a couple baby hairs managed to escape anyway. They stood up proudly on top of her head, almost mocking the rest of her hair that was tightly tucked away. She was dressed in a Barca hoodie and a matching pair of sweatpants, keeping her safe from the cold wind outside that mercilessly nipped at every bit of skin it could find. Her face was covered in a thin layer of sweat, remnants of the run she was on before she stopped here. She looked adorable, really, and you could just about press down the urge to surge forward once again and hide your face in her neck.

"Hey you," you smiled, locking eyes with her. "Good run?" Alexia nodded, still trying to catch her breath, the difference in temperature making it harder to regain her composure, your work place a lot warmer than the outside. "Yeah, it felt good. Had training earlier but I felt like a run, so I was happy that my legs were working with me."

You chuckled, no longer surprised at Alexia's incredible work rate. She'd worked hard to be where she was, and there was no way that she wasn't going to keep her spot cemented up there with the big names in football. So with that thought in the back of her mind, she kept working hard every single day, even though she had proved herself and others time and time again that she was the best.

You tried to match Alexia's excited energy, but there was something inside you that didn't allow you to be as expressive with the midfielder as you usually were. Whether it was the thoughts you were having about your situation before she walked in, or something else, you couldn't quite pinpoint, but there was a tension building between the two of you and it didn't feel nice.

"That's nice, Ale," you sat back down on your chair and absentmindedly started doing a bit more of your work, not thinking much of it. You and Alexia had co-existed a lot of times in her apartment, you doing some work for school and her rewatching her games, but this time the Spaniard wasn't having it. "Oi!", you exclaimed, as you felt Alexia flick your ear. "What was that for?" you questioned, cocking an eyebrow at her as you turned your chair back over to her, her face sporting a crooked grin.

"Am I not interesting enough for your attention?" she said, clearly meaning for it to be a joke, but you could sense the hint of disappointment in her voice. You cursed yourself internally for making Alexia think like that of herself. "No, Ale, I just need to get through some of this work here. I have a lot of emails to catch up with and seen as the range is quiet today, I was making good work of them," you tried to reason. "If you didn't want me to stop by, you could've said," Alexia quipped back, insecurity seeping through her voice. "No, no. It's not that," you said quickly, standing back up and grabbing one of her hands from her front pocket in yours. Alexia intertwined your fingers and you had to take a deep breath to compose yourself and to not get lost in the small display of affection the midfielder was showing you.

You meticulously picked out your next words, not wanting Alexia to feel like she's too much in this space right now. "I don't want you to feel like I don't want to see you, because I always do. You know that," you squeezed Alexia's hand and looked into her eyes, searching them for any sign of discomfort. "I was just a little busy. I'm sorry. I should've said."

Alexia pulled you into another hug, wiping away all the thoughts that were running rampant through your head. Right as you were sinking into her embrace, she pulled away. "No te preocupes. I'll let you finish up with the rest of your work. If you want to watch a film together later, call me. I'm free," Alexia pressed a kiss against your crown and left you to your own devices, stepping away from behind the counter gracefully stepping towards the exit of the building, picking up a jog right before she turned the corner and made her way back to her apartment.

You stood there for a couple moments, registering what just happened. Things always went like this. Alexia would show you some signs of affection, you'd get lost in it and pick everything apart about the small interaction in your mind for the rest of the evening. You didn't know what else you could do to make it clear to her that you wanted her. You'd voiced multiple times that you felt good around her, how you felt about the two of you, but it just seemed like she wasn't able to see through what you were saying. You tried to rid yourself of the insecure thoughts that were creeping past the walls of your mind and busied yourself with more admin work for the rest of the afternoon.

That night, you didn't call Alexia. You had a free night, but you didn't spend it cuddled up with her on the couch, like you had done often the past couple weeks. You and her would pick a film and get way too close to each other throughout it, before you inevitably fell asleep with your head on her lap, always disappointed the morning after when you woke up in her bed, alone. You appreciated that she carried you to bed, but you wanted to be with her. Not alone in her room, sheets cold on the other side, door ajar with the possibility of her joining you, but it never happened.

As much as you tried to distance yourself from Alexia, you couldn't. You didn't let yourself, but it was also nearly impossible with how the midfielder clung to you. You loved it, really, but you'd loved it more if you knew why she wasn't bridging the gap that was so, so clear between the two of you.

-

Christmas Eve. A day you'd grown to love over the past couple years. You didn't have particularly good childhood memories about the day, but ever since you were able to make your own plans for the festivities, December 24th had quickly become one of your favorite days. For the last couple years now, you and your friends had built the little tradition of going to one of your houses and celebrating it there. Everyone that attended made a dish, whether it was starters, main or dessert, and you all enjoyed the company with good food and a couple glasses of good wine. This year, though, you'd all agreed on having it in Barcelona. Your friends didn't want to pass up on the opportunity of seeing you, but they also really wanted to experience Barcelona in all its glory during the winter months. You couldn't blame them. If there was one thing you loved about these couple weeks, it was how nice the city was decorated. Christmas lights adorning every street lantern, Christmas trees littered throughout the city and the soft chime of Christmas music waltzing through the air.

You'd gone out of the way to decorate your aunt's apartment that was yours for the week, her going back to England to celebrate all of it with your family over there. She'd promised you she would give them all many hugs from you, a small side of yours still gutted about the fact that you wouldn't see your family, your mum for Christmas this year. But you knew, surrounded by your friends, you'd have an incredible night. This year, though, you all agreed that plus ones were welcome. You thought it was only fair that if they had to come to Spain, their partners were allowed to come too. That said, though, it seemed like you were the only one without a plus one. It wasn't really something that bothered you, having been single for quite some time now, but you would be lying if you said it hadn't been on your mind the past couple days. Your friends and their partners were out exploring Barcelona before they had to come to yours, and you couldn't help but dread the fact that you couldn't join them with a partner of yourself. Your thoughts dialed back to Alexia, seemingly inevitable, and you figured the least you could do was text her and wish her a fun Christmas Eve.

To: Ale ⭐️ Enjoy your Christmas Eve tonight, Ale. 🧡

You added a little finishing touches to your dinner table, meticulously arranging all the decorations that were on it as you felt your phone buzz in your back pocket.

From: Ale ⭐️ Thank you, amor. No plans tonight, though. I have training tomorrow morning and we aren't very big on Christmas Eve in our family

Despite the nickname driving you wild, your shoulders fell visibly as you read Alexia's message. You couldn't imagine not having plans on Christmas Eve. A thought crossed your mind and you acted upon it before the flurry of confidence got lost on you.

To: Ale ⭐️ Wanna join us? There's a couple friends and their partners coming over. We're just having a big dinner. Nothing too crazy. If you want, I'll drive you home for training tomorrow? :)

You quickly turned your phone back off and shoved it back into your back pocket, already nervous about Alexia's reply. You busied yourself with a couple final preparations to the snack plates you made, that being your part of the food tonight. You gave your table and food one more look, deciding you were satisfied with how everything looked before you made your way over to your bedroom and picked out the outfit you'd bought for tonight.

You were shopping in Barcelona on your day off last week when your eyes fell on a elegant-looking black jumpsuit. You realized that you didn't have an outfit yet for Christmas Eve, so the choice was made for you, and a couple minutes later you left the store with an extra bag hanging from your hands. You showed the piece of clothing to Alexia through a picture over text, and she voiced how beautiful she thought you would look in it. It was a simple compliment, but it'd warmed you inside and it had you thinking about how it could've been had you guys decided to start a relationship somewhere during the last few months. You could've spent the holidays together, buying each other presents, wearing matching pj's, watching Christmas films on the couch with a mug of hot chocolate in hand. But despite all the flirting and teasing, nothing had happened between the two of you, and you were here in your bedroom, alone. Before you could sulk any further, you felt your phone buzz in your back pocket.

From: Ale ⭐️ Oh, eso suena bien. Are you sure? I don't want to intrude on your night with your friends.

You chuckled at her concern, and typed a quick reply.

To: Ale ⭐️ Yes, I'm sure. I'd love to have you with us here. Vendrán a las 7, pero puedes venir un poco antes si quieres :)

You tried your best to form a coherent Spanish sentence, knowing Alexia liked it when you made an effort to try and speak her mother tongue. She'd let it slip one time that she found your accent attractive, and ever since then you'd attempted to learn a bit more in your free time. A quick glance at the clock told you the time was nearing 6, so you waited for Alexia's reply and then quickly jumped in the shower.

From: Ale ⭐️ Perfect. I'll be there. See you soon. x

The jumpsuit fitted you perfectly, hugging and accentuating your curves in all the right ways. You put on a light touch of make-up, not wanting to go overboard but you liked to add a little extra touch to your look on days like these. You made your way back downstairs and lit some candles, trying to set a warm and homely scenery for your guests later. You put on a soft Christmas playlist and took a step back to admire your work, infatuated by how cosy your place looked right now.

You'd turned off all the big lights and replaced them with your cosy mood lightning throughout the apartment, casting your place in a golden glow. The shadows of the candles you lit were dancing all over the ceiling. Your Christmas tree, which you had spent hours on last week trying to decorate it to your liking, was tucked away in the corner of the living room, its twinkling lights shining bright. The dinner table was decorated lightly, adding a couple red and white details to the table decoration. There was a mistletoe hanging from the arched entryway from the dining area to the living room, and you couldn't help but think about the possibilities it could bring later on. The light scent of cinnamon and peppermint hung in the air, courtesy of a couple scented candles Alexia had gifted you last week. She'd recently learned just how much you liked the holidays, and wanted to give you something that you could use in your place. She wasn't big on it herself, her and her family never having made a big deal out of it, so for her to go out of her way to pick something up for you, meant so much more to you than she could imagine.

The soft hints of music waltzing through the air really finished off the perfect picture, and it's safe to say you were more than satisfied with the way your apartment looked right now. The time was nearing 6:45 and you knew Alexia would be here soon, followed suit by your friends in the following 20 minutes. Right on cue, you heard a knock on your door.

You could feel your heart skipping a beat, but you tried to ignore it. You wiped your hands on your jumpsuit and tried to regain your composure by taking in a deep breath, before making your way over to the door in a couple quick strides and taking a look through the peer hole of the door. If you were nervous before, you surely were now. You couldn't quite see all of it, but the outfit Alexia was wearing had already left a dry feeling in your mouth. You caught yourself staring and shook your thoughts, stepping back and opening your door, revealing the Spaniard in all her glory. She was wearing a pair of black suit pants, combined with a white blouse that she left opened at the top. Her hair was straightened and fell down her shoulders, a welcome change to the ponytail and headband she usually had in when you saw her. You didn't see her in something else than her sporty attire that often, so every time you did, she always managed to take her breath away. As if her outfit wasn't enough to throw you off balance, she was holding a a big bouquet of red roses in her hands. The look on her face told you that she knew this outfit would've pulled a reaction out of you, and you wanted nothing more than to kiss the goofy grin off her lips.

"Ale," you breathed, "Hey. You look incredible," you said, taking a step back and allowing her space to enter your apartment. She turned back towards you and shamelessly checked you out, letting her eyes rake over your jumpsuit-clad body before she met yours. "Hear who's speaking. You look amazing," she said, inching closer to you and pressing a lingering kiss against your cheek. You didn't fail to notice the way her hand wrapped around your waist for a second, the skin on your lower back burning where she had just touched you. "Aquí, para ti," she said, holding out the bouquet in front of her. "You didn't have to do this, Ale, you know-," "Shh, don't worry. You invite me, so I bring you something."

A blush coated your cheeks as you took the bouquet from her, placing it down on the counter while you looked for a vase. "This looks nice, you've done a good job on decorating," Alexia said, her voice ringing through the apartment as she explored your living room. You lifted your head from the cabinet in which you found a vase that would suit the flowers, and shot her a smile. "Thank you, I spent quite some time on it. I'm glad you like it," Alexia hummed and returned back to admiring your decorated apartment.

The night went on just as you'd hoped it would. Not long after Alexia arrived, your friends came up too. Long, heartfelt hugs were shared with everyone, suddenly realizing you'd missed them so much more than you thought you had. Alexia didn't need an introduction to any of them, but it's safe to say they were more than surprised when they realized she was your plus one for the evening. A lot of questions were thrown your way whenever Alexia was out of earshot, but you tried to quiet them down because the last thing you wanted, was to get upset about how everything with Alexia went down the last couple of months. You cut it down to "we're just friends," multiple times, but none of your friends could miss the tinge of disappointment that flickered through your eyes every time the subject got brought up.

Lots of good food and a little bit too much wine later, your friends started making their way back out. You'd offered for them to stay over, but they had all made a reservation for a night at hotels nearby. They were all flying back home tomorrow and they could use the rest before a long day of traveling. Alexia was lingering, and while you actually didn't want her to leave, you were also surprised. After all, she still had training tomorrow. With the clock nearing 12, you knew she was way past her usual bedtime. "Ale, you okay?" you questioned, the Spaniard busying herself with cleaning up your table. You frowned when she didn't reply, so you stepped in and laid a hand on her shoulder. "Alexia." "Hmm?" she mumbled, surprise clear in her voice. "Sorry, I didn't hear. What did you say?"

You chuckled and rubbed her shoulder affectionately before dropping your arm back to your side. "Are you okay? I know it's late, I thought you'd want to leave early because you have training in the morning," you said tentatively, not wanting to seem like you wanted her gone. "Ah, sí. Yeah, I should get going," the midfielder said, but you sensed she didn't really want to do that. "You don't have to, you know that. You can stay here too and I'll drive you to practice tomorrow. I don't have work this week and my aunt isn't here, it's not a bother to me."

Alexia's eyes lit up and you knew you had her. "If that's okay?" she asked again, wanting to make sure that she was not a bother to you. You nodded, offering her a big smile. "Yeah, of course. Don't worry. I'll get my bedroom set up for you."

Before she could muster up a reply, you'd already turned the corner and were making your way upstairs. Truth be told, Alexia had felt a little out of place all evening. She had fun, lots of fun even, but she could sense that the air between the two of you was charged with something she didn't like. In all fairness, she was jealous of your friends. They had all brought their partners and were spending their Christmas Eve all cozy and cuddled up with their lovers, while you two were still just going about things as "good friends". She was tired of dancing around the feelings she had for you, the feelings she was sure you had for her too. She wanted nothing more than to spend her days as your girlfriend, waking up together in your bed in the morning, spending your days together, you coming to her games and her coming to your work whenever you had the time. She didn't want to act like she didn't want you in a different way than she had you right now. It wasn't enough. And if it couldn't be, she'd have to cut contact with you.

Unbeknownst to her, you were thinking about her too in your bedroom. You made your bed and put out some clothes for Alexia to sleep in, and you couldn't help but think about how disappointed you had been that you didn't get to love up on Alexia like your friends were doing with their partners all night. A couple fleeting touches would've had to do, each one lingering a bit longer than the other, telling you that Alexia was clearly feeling the same way about the situation like you. Despite the obviousness of the whole ordeal, neither of you had succeeded in taking the next step. You were caught up in your mind, when suddenly an idea came up to you. The mistletoe.

You made your way back down and were surprised to see your dining table cleaned up. The kitchen was still quite the mess, but that was something you would tackle yourself tomorrow. "Thanks, Ale, you didn't have to do that. I could've helped you", you said, the Spaniard waving you off from her spot in the kitchen. "Don't worry, please. You invited me tonight and you're letting me stay here, the least I can do is help you with cleaning up."

You mumbled another quick thanks when she passed by you, making her way to the living room and plopping down on the couch. You wanted to follow her, but there was only one thing on your mind and you wouldn't let it go until you'd got what you wanted. You lingered between the dining area and the living room, very purposefully standing under your arched entryway where the mistletoe hung. You prayed to all the Gods that Alexia would understand the meaning of the Christmas ornament, but the dumbfounded look on her face when you didn't join her immediately told you otherwise.

"Come here, I want to cuddle," she stated. You wanted nothing more than to join her on the couch, to fall in her outstretched arms, but you stayed put, because what you really wanted was something so much better than a cuddle. It wasn't out of sorts for you to be cuddled up together on the couch, so she looked at you weirdly and cocked her eyebrow and head at you when you shook your head adamantly. "¿Por qué no?"

"Ale...," you breathed, vaguely gesturing towards the mistletoe hanging above your head. You didn't want to have to spell it out, missing out on the sincerity of the moment if you had to explain Alexia what you wanted. But you thanked your lucky stars when you saw Alexia moving up from the couch and making her way over to you in a quick few strides. Your luck ran out soon enough though, when Alexia halted in front of you but didn't make any further moves towards you. "¿Qué pasa? Why do you have twigs on your ceiling?"

At that moment, you wished that the ground would swallow you whole. You thought you finally were about to get what you'd been yearning for the past couple months, but much to your disdain, Alexia clearly didn't know what the mistletoe hanging above the two of you meant. You sighed and closed your eyes, taking a moment to ground yourself before speaking up. "Alexia, that's a mistletoe," you explained. "A what? Mistle... toe? What is that?" You sighed again and pinched the bridge of your nose, barely containing a laugh at the ridiculous situation you found yourself in.

"It's a Christmas decoration, Ale, and it-" "Ah, sí. It's nice," she finished her sentence and grabbed your hand, tugging you towards her and back to the couch, but you planted your feet in the ground. "Alexia," you said sternly. She looked at you with wide eyes, surprised at the tone of your voice. "Yes?" "It's a tradition that, when you're under a mistletoe with someone, that you have to... you have to kiss," you whispered the last word, almost not wanting to voice it out loud, scared that you might break the bond the two of you had been building up the last couple months. Maybe this wasn't what Alexia wanted at all, maybe she just wanted you as a friend and nothing more. Doubts started to creep in the longer the silence between the two of you stretched, neither of you making a move. "Oh...," Alexia mumbled at last.

You looked down at your feet, playing with the rings that clad your fingers. "Yeah," you breathed, before braving a look at her. "I mean, we don't have to... it's just a silly tradition, really. I didn't mean to-," before you could embarrass yourself further while trying to turn the situation around, you felt Alexia's hands cupping your cheeks. She tilted your head upwards and took a step closer towards you, resting her forehead against yours. She closed her eyes for a second and breathed in through her nose, composing herself for a moment before opening her eyes again and locking them with yours. She brushed your bottom lip with her thumb before speaking up.

"Can I kiss you?" "Please do."

[waves-against-a-cliff]

After the End - Post-Apocalypse Omegaverse AU

Summary - The final obstacles.

Tags - Omegaverse (duh), alpha/beta/omega dynamics, non traditional dynamics, all of the 141 are alphas, you're an omega. Eventual smut, dub-con, knotting, mating press, polyamory, alphas love alphas. 141 x reader, injuries, masturbation

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For the next two nights they dote on Gaz and Soap, the two most injured of their pack, despite their grumblings and huffs. Though Soap can’t hide his chuffs as well as Gaz can and he earns a cheeky wink from his fellow mask alpha. Of course sitting in enemy woods is less then ideal while getting cozy and romantic but that hardly stops Gaz from being sat in Price’s lap while he dotes on his fellow alpha.

“Price, really this isn’t necssary,” Gaz insists but Price shakes his head and pushes what’s left of his rations for the night to Gaz.

“Please Kyle?” He damn nears begs for his partnered alpha to take the last half of the portions.

“John-” Gaz sighs and gingerly takes the portions from Price. “You know you’re playing dirty with those puppy eyes,” he snips but Price smiles and gives Gaz a little nuzzle to which he chuckles from.

Soap meanwhile is completely passed out, leaning against Ghost with his head on his shoulder and his injured shoulder rebandaged and treated with some salve they had learned to make from a fellow group of survivors. Sometimes Gaz wonders if they made it or if they ended up zombie flesh. They were really kind people. The kind don’t often make it he thought blearily as his eyes began to droop before a familiar scent filled his nose.

He immediately perks up and sniffs the air a few more times before his head snaps to the north where the wind is blowing from. “Do you smell that John? Simon?” He asks and gets silent nods as Soap wakes from his slumber as well.

“Aye, I smell it too,” Johnny says and shares a look with Ghost. “We’re close.”

“That we are. What do you say men? Ready to get going tomorrow at sun rise?” Price asks and the three other men give their affirmations. “Tomorrow at sun rise it is.”

The sun rising the next morning never felt so refreshing. Gaz, though he hardly slept because he kept catching small whiffs of the scent on the wind just enough for him. Just for him, it felt like a sirens call. Come to me Kyle, the scent whispers and there’s an extra sweet tinge to it around the edges, that if Gaz is recalling correctly means one thing and one thing only.

Heat.

They traversed together, practically holding hands. Hell, Soap might’ve actually held hands with Ghost for a little while until Gaz started to look a little too closely. They were not going to be split up this time by different traps or scents. They followed Gaz who was the one who was leading them towards where their precious, if not sadistic, omega was. Several times they, mostly Soap, almost fell for another trap but was yanked back by a member of their pack.

They were silent otherwise, their boots crunching the snow beneath them and it made some of them wince. Well, it made Ghost wince as he thought about how important it might be to get the element of surprise on such a vicious omega. Ghost had never encountered an omega so vicious and territorial. Then again, he thought, I’ve never met an omega who’s been alone for years. Truly alone.

Ghost could vaguely recall how he had been once he had been picked up in Mexico after digging himself out of that grave. Violent, baring his teeth at anyone who came near and he had needed to be sedated by the end of it. An unpleasant experience overall. As they walk, he tries to relate that to the omega. Alone in the woods for years, maybe even years before the end of the world as they knew it. It had taken them a while to get this far up north after being stranded in the country side of France.

He did not want to think about that time.

Then as they pushed through a few bushes there it was. A log cabin, the chimney did not emit smoke. “Clever girl,” Price comments as he observes the state of the cabin. “Windows boarded up and I’m willing to bet there’s a bar or something preventing us from opening the door easily,” he says, mostly to himself before he turns to the rest of his pack.

You can hear them. Even though they tread quietly, underneath them you can hear every foot step after they finally opened the door. Certainly surprised to find it only locked. You wince as you think about having to replace that lock and venturing into town again. It’s such a long hike and you’ve been worn through the last few days.

The never ending anxiety and… well you’ve been trying to avoid the truth of it all. But it seems impossible at this point. And this on coming heat. The cotton stuffed into your nose only does so much and your inner omega whines and begs to take it out. To just breathe in their scents, that aroma that makes your head spin and heat go straight to your core.

Against your better judgement you do so. As if your hands aren’t your own, you take out the cotton stuffed up your nose and breathe in deeply. Their scents, this close, hits like a freight train. You cover your mouth right before a whine escapes and you rub your thighs together as an ache between them forms. You can’t possibily be quiet enough to eek another orgasm out, you’ve already had five in the last two hours. You keep waiting to hit a wall but it doesn’t come and the ache persists. Like an itch you cannot scratch yourself. Your omega purrs again at the thought of one of them. Or two. Hell maybe even three of them surviving the traps you have laid out for them in the cabin.

One last test, your omega purrs as you slide a hand between your legs as you lay in the nest you had built a day before. One last test and we can see who is fit to be our alpha. Or alphas.

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[renku]

Princess

「 Scenario smut - Yeseo x Male Reader 」

A/N: This is just pure BFH. Yeseo is just... yeah, many of you know it.

So no proofreading and edits at all. The other fic is still ongoing by the way. Happy Holidays to all!

~~~

It was a warm heat; a pair of thick flesh residing on your own, eyes glued to yours while Yeseo removes her cashmere crop top. A sight to behold—her silky hair dragged up by the motion. Perky, aroused tits reaching its perfect state. Oh, oh, she knows you want ‘em but she doesn't how you crave for those buds. Lastly, her intoxicating scent mixing into bloodstream, flowing at the right places. You can’t wait, but you have to. Being needy would be the last thing you’d show to this princess.

“Fuck, you’re making me crazy, princess,” you remarked, almost whispering the words with your face just centimeters away from her.

She smiled. Just smiled. As if she knew, and she does. Yeseo knows how to be minimalistic—low effort but extraordinary results. “And here too,” she replied, unzipping your pants to release her favorite toy from its constraints.

“Did this ‘good boy’ missed me?” she asked, an unnecessary question that somehow displayed her power over you.

“Why don’t you sit on it to know the answer, princess?” you responded, making sure she won’t have her way. Yeseo’s too dangerous. Especially when she’s fired up. And right now, the fire within her burns with such intensity that you’d never dare to put out. Only she can do it, by satisfying her wants.

“Don’t move an inch. Let me do it my way. Your princess’ way.”

Yeseo reached beneath her skirt, undoubtedly pushing her panties to the side to reveal her awaiting wet and dripping pussy. She grabs your already raging shaft and aligns it with her sweet entrance.

With a slow and steady movement, Yeseo patiently drops herself with your cock. Eating those inches with her warm and slick walls.

“Fuck...,” you grunted, shutting your eyes as you almost lift your head up to conceal the pleasure rapidly consuming your entire body.

“So big... so warm... all for me,” Yeseo noted in full ecstasy. She reached for your lips with hers to initiate a quick make out with her tongue invading yours in an instant.

In doing so, that sinful body of hers starts to grind on that small couch you have. Muffled moans became a series of vibrations in your mouth. Your hands can’t stay idle. They wander all over her upper torso, all those nerves in your fingertips doing its job to feel her soft and delicate skin.

Yeseo breaks the kiss. “Oh, oh- ah, yes! Ah, fuck! So deep!”

“Moan for me, princess. Tell me how you feel good by riding my dick. Let me hear it.”

“Yours is the best! Ah- I- I can’t stop! Make me cum with your huge cock! Oh, God!”

“So- so tight! Damn it!”

Her pace continues to rise with each second passing. She’s not like this before. Maybe Yeseo’s getting used to it. Should you be glad? Don’t know for sure. But the build up inside your groin can’t be ignored. Her tightness also is killing you. She’s close, too.

“Cumming for me, princess?”

“Ye- yes! Just a bit more! Fuck! I’m close!”

“Good, cum with that slutty pussy of yours. Take all my cum!” you exclaimed.

“Breed me! Please, claim my pussy! Claim it till it's full of cum!”

You didn’t move a bit the entire time. All of the work was from Yeseo. She wanted it. You just want her to experience things. Explore. Figure what works for her and what isn’t. She insisted to all of this. It’s a fact that makes you less guilty and not to think about it too much. You had a good time and the same goes for her. And that time tonight is about to reach its conclusion—pleasurable conclusion.

“Yeseo, I’m cumming!”

“Me too, I’m cumming! Don't hold back!”

“It’s coming! Ah!”

There it is, the climax. Ropes and ropes of semen filled Yeseo’s walls. Her walls convulses as she reached the promised land but also making sure not a drop of cum will escape from her cunt.

The highs from the sex slowly declines, and both of you came back to your senses.

“Amazing.”

Catching her breatg and drenched in sweat, Yeseo happily responded biting her lower lip, “Yeah, you’re the fucking best.”

[bunni-v1]

Thanking that anon who asked if Lighter have weird fetishes or something along those lines,

Not a request— just a thought to share about Lighter, sub! Lighter. 👁️👁️🍷

Him to be known as a strong man, who never loses. Losing on the damn bed, crying for you to let him cum, the way his hands shakily reaching out to your wrist that prevents his cock to let out that white liquid out. Only for you to press down harder by the tip making his body arched beautifully, his hands gripping on the bedsheets his knuckles turning white.

"please— please let me c— ah— wait wait wait, no stop!— d, don't press harder— n, no nngghii—!?!!? "

Like—?? HWBDHENNDFF— LIGHTER—

Using the sound on his cock too edge him is also— chef's kiss. Watch him cry and writhe begging for you to take it out.

Ahem.

Mdni

Sub Lighter is such a cutie, y’know? He really is a tough guy, honestly. He’s all sharp edges to the outside world, which is perfectly fine! But god breaking his mental sounds fun, doesn’t it?

On the VERY RARE occasion he lets you top — at least, actually top and not just has you on top while he’s still in control — it’s so much fun getting back at him for all the torture he puts your through.

Strip him down, slowly of course, you can’t rush such a rare opportunity like this. First his jacket, then his shirt, kiss all around his chest (pay close attention to his scars, he melts like butter in your hands when you mumble how pretty they are). Make sure your free hand is fondling him through his too tight jeans, those moans are delicious. It’s important to note you must keep your clothes on here, it’s part of the fun.

Press warm, slow kisses down his abdomen before working his belt and pants off. Then slowly inch his boxers after and watch his cock spring out and smack his abdomen with an audible thump. Don’t touch it yet, though, he might get too eager and take back control if you’re not careful.

Tie him up with pretty red ribbon, oh or his scarf, he’s less likely to tear his scarf apart. Maybe handcuffs or rope — though he could easily break those too. He’ll complain as you tie his hands to the bedpost, annoyed that he can’t touch you too. The whiny tone out of place from him, but oh so delectable.

When you pull out the cock cage he knows it’s game over. He fucking hates that thing, but he doesn’t do more than grumble because he’s such a good boy. Tell him he’s such a good boy as you turn the lock on the horrid thing.

Now that you have him all restrained you can take your sweet time. Start with his nipples, they’re very sensitive. You could ghost your fingers over them and he’d buck his hips already. Scratch your nails over one while you suck on the other, looking him in the eyes while he whines like a slut.

Your other hand should scrape over his sides as you do so, nice and slow so he squirms. Go nice and slow, spend at least a good few minutes doing this. Then, once you’re satisfied, kiss and suck your way down to his thighs. Leave pretty purple marks into the muscled meat there. Coo at him about how cute he is, how pathetic he is, how you like him so much when he’s whining and squirming.

Listen to him beg you, “P-please~ I wanna fuck you. Lemme fuck you baby, lemme make you feel good~”

And who are you to deny him that? Just… not the way he wants. He’s so excited when you slip your pants and panties off, practically wagging his nonexistent tail. But you don’t take the cage off, and instead of untying his wrists you position yourself over his head.

He’ll pout a little, then he’ll get a good look at your glistening pussy and moan like a whore. “Gonna make me feel good, pretty boy?”

“Mhm~” Is the last thing he gets out before you sit on him, and then the room is full of nothing but desperate slurping and sucking. He needs to taste you more than air, has to get you off and drown in your delicious pussy juice. It’s all he wants. All he needs. Fuck his face hard, don’t hold back, he’s a strong guy he can take it. And even if he can’t this was probably the best way he could go out.

But, don’t give him what he wants, that would make things boring. Edge yourself, just as your about to cum, pull off of him to hear the most precious whine you’ll ever get out of him. His eyes will be blow wide and his face covered in your slick, be careful cause he will press up and chase after you.

“Wanna make you cum, please—“ He’ll cry, voice breaking. Do not humor him.

Return to your previous ministrations, slow and steady wins the race after all. This time, though, when you get to his thighs reach for that little key and slowly remove the cage and you leave more pretty marks. He’ll sigh, throw his head back in relief as his poor tortured member twitches excitedly at the freedom.

Kiss it, smack it around a little, run your fingers along those pretty veins just to hear him hiss and watch his hips jerk. “So desperate~” You’ll coo, and he’ll whine a “Shut up…” back. It’s all so cute.

Finally, give him what he wants. With a little kiss and a sweet smile, take him all down in one go. He’ll jerk up into you, so smack his thigh as a reminder of who’s in charge here. Throat fuck him all the way up to climax, and then full stop the second you feel him tense up.

Return back to his thighs for a moment, then jerk him off in the same process, stopping right at his peak. He’ll beg, oh he’ll beg, “Gotta cum— please lemme cum~ Baby, please, please, please-“

If he gets too annoying just squeeze his balls nice and tight, that’ll get him to choke on his words. Threaten to take out the sounding tools if he keeps it up — he hates sounding when you do it, you’re so mean to him~

Edge him until he’s so red and swollen and covered in pre-cum that he’s hardly even present to answer you. All he can think about is how much he wants one of you — he doesn’t even care if it’s him anymore — to cum.

Climb back up his body, and finally kiss him. He still tastes like you as he swallows up the affection, practically consuming you whole. Rub your pussy against his lower abdomen as you let him tongue fuck you. You can feel his muscles tense as he tries and fails to get some kind of friction for his swollen cock.

When you pull away he’ll no doubt whine again — he can’t ever decide what he wants more when you’re torturing him like this. Your pleasure or his. Too much for his mushy little brain to think of.

“You wanna fuck me, wanna make me cum.” You’ll ask, positioning yourself over his achingly hard dick.

He nods dumbly, very distracted by your hand jerking him off just below heavens gate. “Gotta use your words.”

“Wanna fuck you so bad, baby. Gonna— gonna make you cum as much as you want, please lemme take care of you~” He begs, pouting like a child at you.

“Okay~” You coo, sinking all the way down until he fits to the brim. He moans your name out like you’re some kind of god, but stops short when you don’t move. He’ll look at you angrily, tugging on the restraints once. A warning.

“You said you wanna fuck me,” You whisper, crawling up his chest to his ear, “So fuck me~”

So, like the very good boy he is, he does his very best to get off with you not moving on top of him. He fucks up into you like a bitch in heat, whining and crying all the way — “You’re so tight, can’ take it—“ “Feels s’ good— so fuckin’ good.” “Lemme cum baby, please move.”

He just can’t get off without you, though. As hot and tight as your little cunt is, he can only do so much when you’re giving him nothing to work with. No moans, no movement, just little kisses and whispers of “Good boy”. It wasn’t enough.

“Baby~” He’ll cry, and you’ll take his face in your hands, wiping away tears he didn’t know was falling.

Take pity on him here, he’s so spent and so broken now. All he wants is you. Give him a little break. Move your hips in time with him and watch his eyes roll back. He jerks in his restraints again and that’s your second warning to hurry it the fuck up.

Fuck him, hard. Slam your hips down into him, over and over unrelenting and watch him writhe and mutter “Thank you” over and over. He only knows that and your name at this point. Oh, and don’t be a hardass, let him cum inside. He’ll take care of it later, he warned to fill you up with his cum deep inside.

But… don’t stop moving even after he’s cum. Roll your hips in the same brutal pace, and listen to him whine and beg you to stop. Don’t stop.

“N’ more…” He huffs out, trying and failing to pull away from you.

“Isn’t this what you wanted?” You’ll coo.

He shakes his head, “‘s too much.”

“C’mon pretty boy, you can give me one more~” And he’ll look at you with the cutest pout until — snap. That’s the sound of his restraints breaking. One of his hands grabs your smug face with a nasty scowl and the other is grabbing your hip in a vice grip.

Guess you flew a little to close to the sun, huh. Good luck!~

[dreamingofep]

Merry Christmas, Baby🎄💋

A/n: Here’s a smutty little Christmas blurb 🤭 I’m incapable of writing anything short, sweet and to the point so this will have to do! I wrote this with 1970’s E in mind but I also thought about Vampire!E too (of course) so picture what ever Elvis era you want. Merry Christmas 🎁

Word count: 1.6k

Tw: SMUTT, some cuteness

December 24th, 1970

The twinkling lights on the Christmas tree softly lit the living room. You were content sitting on the couch by yourself, enjoying the fire and the murmur of conversation through the house. Elvis was around mingling with everyone and being a good host. You were glad the night was settling down, you wanted to spend time with just him. This was your first Christmas together and wanted to make it special.

All the presents were unwrapped, food was eaten, and the house was decorated to the nines. You didn’t want the season to end if this was how Graceland looked. It always looked beautiful but something about the Christmas glow of the house made it even more remarkable.

You turn your attention to the dining room and feel your heart flutter at the sight of him. Lord, he was stunning, no amount of time with him would make you immune to his good looks. Especially the way he was looking at you tonight. It didn’t help that you were teasing him to no end throughout the night. You were begging him to make love to you before the party began and he wanted to make you wait. You didn’t like that and would make it your mission to make him crumble for you. You’d kiss him on the neck, something he couldn’t denounce, or stroke his thigh with your hand, getting dangerously close to his crotch.

That look in his eyes was dangerous now. That’s a look you’ve gotten when he’s about to ravage you. You can’t handle that thought with so many people around. His gaze doesn’t waver and only intensifies.

Like you were the only thing he wanted as he subtly licks his bottom lip. You hold your breath and look down, praying he doesn’t see how you’re coming unglued by him already.

You nervously take a sip of your drink and set it down on the coffee table. You’re about to glance over at him again but someone’s voice has you distracted.

“EP, play us something before we leave!”

You look at Elvis and see him give a cute, cheeky little smile. He gets up from his seat at the dining room table and straightens out his shirt.

“Sure, why not,” he grins.

Everyone gets all excited and starts to funnel into the living room area where you were. You get up and offer your seat to someone. You want to be as close as possible to him and take a seat on the couch by the piano. Before he takes a seat at the piano bench, he picks you up and gives you a much-needed kiss. It left you breathless and a bit startled by the passion of it. He sits you back down and goes to the piano.

He plays a couple of chords to warm up, humming to himself to get in key.

Merry, Merry Christmas baby

You sure did treat me nice…

The low, sultriness makes your whole body freeze. Oh, you knew what he was doing, he was trying to tease you. Try to make your cheeks burn and get you uncomfortable in front of everyone.

You lean back against the sofa and look at him with a lustful gaze. He looked damn good and you were sure he knew it. He wore all white today and the whole outfit was tailored to fit him perfectly. You watch those long fingers dance along the keys, making the piano play in perfect tune.

You look back up to his face and see he’s wearing a smug smile, probably proud of himself for seeing how he’s got you feeling.

I said Merry Christmas baby

You sure did treat me nice

He sings that last line and turns slightly over his shoulder to look at you, his eyes drinking in your crossed legs. You feel your heart gallop at that one singular look.

Completely weak.

You could not look at him for a second longer.

Well, I wanna kiss you, baby

He took his time on that last line, smugly smiling and chuckling softly. Clearly not thinking of just kissing you.

He plays a few more songs and your guests start to leave. You say your goodbyes and make your way upstairs, needing to gain back your composure before being alone with Elvis. You quickly make it to the bathroom and see your weakened demeanor.

Your cheeks were flushed and your heart still raced by the thought of him. Damn it he has you so weak and he loves it.

You hear the bedroom door open and you try to straighten yourself out.

“Baby?” His deep voice rang out in the quiet room.

“Yeah I’m here,” you say nonchalantly.

He turns the corner and smiles at you, nodding his head approvingly.

“Mmm, just as I had thought,” he says coyly.

“What?”

“Pink little cheeks,” he says low, caressing your face, “probably thinking about somethin’ naughty in that head of yours.”

“I would never while there are guests around,” you quip.

His hands trail down to your hips and squeeze there. You lean into his body, loving his hands on you and sighing.

“Let me put some naughty ideas in there then,” he taunts. He lifts you onto the counter and spreads your legs, leaving enough room for him to stand in between. His lips cover your neck in kisses, sending a bolt of electricity through you. Your arms wrap around his neck, almost instinctively now, and try to pull him closer if that is humanly possible. He kisses you so intensely and his hands are igniting the fire inside you.

You moan breathlessly into his mouth, craving more of him than you thought. You wanted to feel more of his warm skin and your fingers frantically worked the buttons off his shirt. You quickly get it off his body and pull the sleeves down. His hands move quickly too and easily find the zipper on the back of your dress. He peels it off of you and you lift your hips up to get the dress completely off your body.

Your hands are back on each other and kissing each other like you never have before. It felt perfect. You both knew exactly what you needed before uttering a word. He momentarily takes his hands off of you and you hear him working his belt off of his hips. You look down and watch as he unzips his fly and lets his pants fall to the ground. Your cheeks redden more as you look at his length.

Oh God, you needed him. You needed him so badly.

You look back up at his face with needy eyes and he swears a little smirk on his lips.

“What are you thinking about now?” He asks.

“How much I want you. Why?” You try to say holding it together.

“Mhmm good. I’m thinking the same thing,” he says as he rubs the tip of his cock through your wet slit. You groan at the friction and wrap your arms around his neck again.

He pulls your hips forward on the counter so you’re more on the edge and he lines himself to your entrance. He slowly pushes himself inside you and groans as he feels you squeeze around him. You scratch at his back, pleasure searing through you as he slowly pumps his cock in and out of you.

He takes you slowly, holding onto your body tightly and murmuring how good you feel. His lips cover your neck in kisses, surely leaving marks there to remind each other what you did tonight. You do the same to him, making him buck his hips into you harder if you nip him. You quietly cry his name as your release builds. He loves hearing how good you’re feeling and how you want more.

His hand drifts down to where you’re connected and he finds your swollen bud. You squeeze his bicep when he does this and look at him in shock. It felt good but you were so sensitive, on the brink of cumming already.

“So good baby, you feel so good,” he growls into your ear. You squeeze your eyes shut at the sound of his voice, low and gravelly in your ear. It sends shock waves through you. Hearing how much he is enjoying this makes you want to give more to him. You lean away from his body to look at his face and you see his eyes gazing at the reflection in the mirror.

His heated eyes meet yours once more and he’s breathing heavier, fucking you harder than before.

“I love you, I love us,” he breathes. All you can do is whimper in agreement. With his cock stuffed inside you and his fingers rubbing your clit, you feel yourself about to go over the edge.

You hold onto him tighter, feeling your orgasm loom and get even closer.

“Elvis oh God,” you cry out.

“Good baby, takin’ me so well. All fuckin’ mine,” he growls.

Your body tenses and your core flutters, unable to hold back your release any longer. You squeeze around him and whimper in ecstasy, feeling as though you’ve been shot into the stratosphere. He groans heavily as he tries to fuck you at the same pace but he can’t. He’s close too and you feel too good to stop him from coming.

He holds onto your body tight and buries his face in your neck, whimpering your name. You feel his hot release pour into you and you both are a sweaty, sticky mess. He moves slowly as you both are coming down for your highs. Your entrance was overly sensitive after all of that and he was too.

“I love you,” he whispers.

“I love you.”

“Merry Christmas Baby,” he says low and sultry like at the piano.

“Mmm, my new favorite Christmas song,” you tease.

•

•

•

Tagging:

@loving-elvis @neptuneismysister@velvetelvis @ccab @theresalwaysep

@sillybookmarks @dkayfixates

@ellie-24 @rktismylife-blog.

@myradiaz @tacozebra051

@18lkpeters @flwrs4aust @emma181873

@austinswhitewolf@eliseinmemphis

@everythingelvispresley@chasingwildflowers @idontwanttoputanything. @ohjustpeachy-

@elvisalltheway101 @austinsmutler @kingdomforapony.

@generoustreemystic @claire-elvisgirl

@ashtag6887 @burnthheparaphilia @richardslady121

@jaqueline19997

@returntopresley. @iloveelvis @rimartin11@that-hotdog @louisejoy86 @misspresley@cattcb@annapresley8

@arrolyn1114 @raginginkedslut @epthedream69

@mh777ep1938

@50sexyshadestashionista

@oldhOllywOod @hooked-on-elvis @livelovedilfs

@sloppiest-of-jos @thisis-theway @gatheraheart

@aphroditebabygirl @faeolwen

[holdmytesseract]

Wrapping up 2024...

divider by @jiyascepter <3

Hello, there?

*taps microphone*

Fellow talented writers, dear mutuals, wonderful friends, and faithful readers... 2024 is coming to an end, and I thought it's time to take a look back at this year together with all of you - if you like, of course! ☺️

2024 has been a good year, I'd say personally. It wasn't the best, but certainly not bad. I was blessed with finding a lot of new friends on here... @chennqingg @angelwings-crossbowstrings @dixons-sunshine @mayday2007 @huntedmusicgardenn and @erebus-et-eigengrau ! Thank you for letting me invade your blogs, askboxes and DM's! I'm so grateful we became friends! 🙏🏼🧡 Especially @dixons-sunshine ... Gods, I'm such a fangirl of Krys. You have no idea. It's a wonder I didn't scare her off with my endless ramblings, lol. 😆

I also bumped into a lot of amazing, talented people on here this year - new faces and old acquaintances... @thevegandarkelf @loz-3 @buttercupcookies-blog @gigglingtiggerv2 @jiyascepter and so many more! You all have managed to blow my mind not just once, guys. Thank you for that! 🧡

I have also been blessed to spend another year with the gang on here! @smolvenger @eleniblue @lokisgoodgirl @mochie85 @vbecker10 @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @mypainischronicbutmyassisiconic @anukulee @multifandom-worlds @jiyascepter - you guys are the best, and you damn well know how much y'all mean to me. Tumblr wouldn't be the same without you. That much is certain. Please never forget how freaking badass and magnificent you are! *BIG HUGS* 🧡

Yeah... I love the bond we all share on here. No matter writer, reader or 'lurker' - we all share the same passion one way or the other, and that's just beautiful, isn't it?

I'd like to give out a special thanks to @muddyorbsblr . It feels like we have known each other for ages but only got closer throughout this year (and perhaps the end of last year - I unfortunately can't remember entirely. Please forgive me, bestie.) Almost not a day goes by without us texting - and that's awesome. I could always rely on you for advice and help - or just for thirst. 🤭 No matter what, you always have a sympathetic ear for me - and I appreciate this and you so much! Thanks for being here and sharing all those cool things with me! I love you, bestie! 🧡

Another very close friend of mine I met on here is @fictive-sl0th - my compatriot, hehe. She's just wonderful. You know what I'm talking about if you ever had the chance to talk to her. That girl's got a heart of gold, I swear. She ALWAYS helps me when I get stuck on a story. I don't know what I'd do without her. I enjoy talking to her a lot. Friend, I absolutely treasure you. I love you! 🧡

What else happened this year on here? Well... I did a lot of writing - for which I'm very grateful. I'm still having so much fun doing this. I truly hope y'all have just as much fun with reading. I couldn't imagine a life without writing anymore. It's impossible.

My personal writing highlights this year:

• A Covenant for Eternity - a project I absolutely LOVED to write. It's been so cool to do this in cooperation with so many people. Love, love, love!

• Love In The Rearview Mirror - my newest series. I know I just started to post it, but I've been working on this already for quite some time. I love this series with all my heart, and I truly hope it won't disappoint you.

• Echoes of Hope - another great AU that I started. I absolutely fell in love with my OC's Teddy and Marlo. I just can't help but to continue this.

• Hunter & Prey - one of the steamiest things I ever wrote. I love this addition of the Baby Fever AU!

• ...what the future holds... - a spontaneous idea that turned into one of my favourite stories.

Do you guys have any favourite stories? I'm curious! Let me know - if you want! 🤗

What else happened? 🤔

Oh yeah, and I reached 2k followers this year! TWO THOUSAND... This is insane... I'm still stunned by this, I swear. I would've NEVER ever thought this was going to happen someday. Not even in my wildest dreams. Thank you again for this! 🙏🏼

And oh boy, we celebrated big...

Campire Sleepover

Well... It's been a wild ride - and I can't wait what the next year has to offer... I'm excited!

Thank you ALL for reading, commenting, reblogging, and interacting! Thank you ALL for spending this year with me - and fangirling together. No matter if it was about an mischievous God, or an archer with an angel-winged vest. Thank you ALL for helping me shape this blog. It wouldn't be the same without you.

Thank you - from the bottom of my heart!

I truly hope I didn't forget somebody... If I did, I'm SO sorry. I didn't mean to forget you! Please feel hugged. 🙏🏼

I love you all! 🧡

Now there's only one more thing left to say - I mean, I already stole enough of your time...

I wish all of you a merry merry Christmas and happy holidays! I hope you are able to enjoy it! 🎄

And now... *turns up Christmas music*

P.S. If you made it until here, I'm gonna tell you a secret... 🤫 There's a Christmas-ish Loki oneshot coming your way in the next two days... 🤫

[hihomeghere]

Baptized by Fire

After running from your past you find yourself facing certain death out in a blizzard. Thankfully you’re rescued, but what happens when you have to ride out the rest of the winter with the two men who rescued you? An RDR2 AU where Arthur followed Charles to Canada. No Y/N. All five chapters combined into one fic

Word Count : 22k

Warnings/tags : Abuse, bruises, blood, guns, death, religious themes, nudity, oral m!receiving, unprotected piv, cursing, allusions to sex, skinning animals for meat, smoke inhalation, dead body, mention of gunshot wound, reader has female genitalia and is referred to as ‘she’, cursing, Arthur had TB but survived and now has chronic issues because of it, let me know if I missed any

Dividers by @saradika

Minors do not interact!

You had never cared for the cold. Why your family had decided to settle where the ground was covered in frost and snow most months out of the year was beyond you. You tried your hardest to spend as little time outside during the winter months. Taking as long as possible to complete your tasks inside before venturing out into the cold, even if it cost you a beating. Now you found yourself completely at a blizzard's mercy. The wind was nearly deafening, the force of it causing you to stumble through the thick blanket of snow. Your boots doing little to keep out the cold, having lost feeling in your toes shortly after you ran from the one place you had called home. 

If you could even call it ‘home’. The events of the last day playing over in your mind. Your fathers words echoing in your ears.

“Damn stupid child!” He yelled, his words slurred as he stumbled towards you. You ran to get out of his grasp, his hand grabbing a hold of your hair. You yelped, tears stinging your eyes as you were pulled back into his chest. Your scalp ached as he pulled your head back at an unnatural angle. “You never done me any good, never!” He hissed in your ear, his breath reeking of liquor. You felt the hot tears roll down your cheeks as you clawed at the hand holding your hair. Successfully digging your nails into his flesh as he cried out in pain, throwing you to the floor. 

“Fucking bitch!” He spit, his foot landing a blow to your ribs, leaving you gasping for breath. “It’d do you good to learn some damn respect!” He spit, turning his back to you as he went to grab another bottle. You clutched at your side, sucking in any air that you could use to fill your lungs. Each breath burning like hot coals.

Your hands grabbed for anything to help you get back to your feet. Wrapping around the back of a chair as you pulled yourself to your feet. What happened next was a blur. You didn’t even realize you had grabbed the shotgun off the mantle until it kicked back. Your arms aching as you stumbled backwards. Your finger falling off the trigger as your back hit the wall. Your eyes fell upon the body of your father, gasping on the ground. Blood pooling under him as his mouth opened and closed like a damn fish. 

The gun slipped out of your grasp as your hands flew to cover your mouth. Bile spewed between your fingers as it shot up your throat and out your mouth. You gagged and spit, collapsing in on yourself as you sunk to the floor. Tears stinging your eyes as you retched.

You don’t know how long you watched him. Each slow breath was accompanied by the sick gurgle of blood. At some point the sound stopped, along with his heart. Whether it was minutes or hours later you didn’t know. What you did know was something made you run. It could have been the sickly stench of blood, or his cold unblinking stare. Perhaps it was the knowledge that there was now no undoing what was done. That you had fought and now you were fleeing.

You had left the house with only the clothes on your back. A terribly foolish thing in hindsight. Now you were going to meet a similar fate as your father, freezing to death out in the cold. At least someone would find your fathers body, yours on the other hand would be lost until spring. Even then, it was more likely for an animal to find it than a person. The thought of some animal gnawing on your bones sent a shiver up your spine that had nothing to do with the freezing temperatures. You clutched your hands together, trying to rub feeling back into your fingers, but to no avail. Your legs would no longer move, fighting against the signals sent by your brain. 

Up ahead sat a dark figure on a horse, a pale horse. The snow seemingly parted around him as he approached.

This was it. Death had come to claim your soul. You would die frozen and a murderer. God have mercy on you.

-

If you were in hell, the flames of damnation were much more pleasant than painful. The crackling of the fire was almost comforting, and the heat was heavenly. You blinked your eyes open, the flames in the fireplace dancing before you. You relished in the feeling of the warm pelts draped over your bare body. Bare body? Your cheeks burned as you pulled the furs tighter around you. Whoever had rescued you, if you could call it a rescue, you hadn’t decided yet- had stripped you as well. 

“Charles, she’s awake.” A gruff southern voice cut through your thoughts. Your head snapped in the direction of the sound, fear shot through you like a lightning strike as your eyes landed on a man sitting in a rocking chair. 

A man had rescued you. A man had stripped you.The fire no longer eased the trembling of your body as you scrambled backwards. Backing yourself into a corner.

His lips were set in a thin line, light stubble dusting his face. His blue eyes pierced through you as you meet his gaze. Something about him seemed so familiar, although his piercing gaze made you lower your eyes. 

The other man’s, Charles, heavy footsteps caught your attention as he walked over to the unnamed man. Dark skin, long hair, chestnut brown eyes. A scar that ran along his cheek like a lightning strike. Not one but two men.

“So she is.” He said to his partner, eyeing you like you might bolt any second. Which you had thought about, but you could still hear the storm raging outside. It would be a death wish to go out in that again, you realized that now. “Excuse me miss?” Charles asked, raising his eyebrows as he tilted his head slightly.

You swallow thickly, only realizing how damn dry your throat was as you tried to speak.

“Where am I?” You asked, trying to put on a false front of confidence as you pulled the skins tighter around your body.

“About a mile north of where I found you out stumbling in the snow.” Charles answered, taking a tentative step toward you.

“Where are my clothes?” You asked, your stomach dropping as he inched closer. You pulled the furs tighter around your naked body, knowing full well that either of them could easily overpower you. If they wanted to carry out some sick and twisted torture, you would be at their mercy. 

Charles raised his hands in a small surrender, “There, had to hang them up to dry.” He said, motioning to a primitive clothesline near the fire. Something you must have missed when crawling away from them. “The fire wouldn’t have done you any good if you were in those wet clothes. It’s why we… well you know.” He said, “They should be dry by now, you were out for quite awhile.” Your eyes flick between the two men and your clothes. Charles takes two steps back, his footsteps heavy on the wooden floor of the cabin. You scrambled forward, snatching your clothes off the line before retreating back to your corner. The other man scoffs, crossing his arms as he looks out the window at the storm.

“The hell were you doing out in the middle of a goddamn blizzard with nothin’?” 

“Arthur-“ Charles' warning tone cut through the cabin as he met Arthur’s eyes.

“It’s an honest question.” He huffed as he looked up at Charles, his jaw set. “No one would go out into something like that if they weren’t runnin’ from somethin’.” He said, giving Charles a look. You swallowed thickly, pursing your lips as the two men seemed to communicate without speaking.

“What were you doing out there then?” You asked, breaking the tense silence. “Were you running from something?”

“I wasn’t the one who was out there.” He hissed, turning his fierce gaze back to you.

“I was.” Charles answered, so he was the one who rescued you.

“If it was me I would have left your sorry ass out there.” Arthur mumbled, Charles shot him a glare before he looked back at you. 

“I got lost.” You said, pulling your warm clothes against your body.

“Yeah no shit.” Arthur huffed, “But that don’t answer my question. What were you doing out there in the first place?” He said, narrowing his eyes. 

“I-“

“She’s been through enough hasn’t she?” Charles cut you off, his baritone voice raising as he glared at Arthur. Arthur clenched his jaw, matching Charles glare. A moment passed as the two glared at each other before Arthur’s shoulders softened, letting out a sigh as he sat back in the rocking chair. Whatever unspoken argument they had had, Charles had won. “Why don’t you put some clothes on and we can have a civilized conversation.” Charles said, shooting Arthur a look.

You stared at the two men, frozen in their gaze.

“Oh for Christsake.” Arthur huffed before turning his head away from you. Charles followed suit, averting his eyes. You hastily put on your clothes, the residual warmth from the fire seeping into your bones. 

“You can look now.” You said, once you were fully clothed. Arthur let out a sigh, his gaze falling on you once more. 

“You’ll have to put up with us until the storm passes.” Charles said, crossing his arms as he looked at you. Sensing your unease he spoke again, “I know you have no reason to trust us, but we did save your life. Not to mention, if we wanted to hurt you we would have by now.” He said with a small shrug. You couldn’t deny the truth. They had seen you naked and at your most vulnerable, and they had done nothing to harm you. In fact, they had done everything to help you.

You were a fool for thinking you could survive on your own. You had no money, leaving all your possessions at your fathers house. The only clothes you had were the ones on your back. You regretted not thinking it through, not having a plan, but you didn’t regret taking that shotgun off the mantle.

“I won’t- I won’t be a burden to you two.” You said swallowing thickly. Arthur scoffed under his breath. “I can cook, clean, and mend anything that needs it.” You said, reinforcing your statement as your cheeks burned.

“It won’t be necessary.” Charles said, shaking his head.

“I insist.” You said cutting him off as you caught Arthur’s eye.

“If she insists, let the little lady help out.” Arthur said, leaning back in his chair with an amused smile on his lips.

-

Over the next couple of days you learned all the ins and outs of the small cabin. There was a main great room, with two bedrooms off of it. 

Charles had given up his bed, letting you take over one of the bedrooms. Said he wouldn’t mind sleeping on a cot in Arthur’s room. You had assumed the two men had been living together longer than they’d had this cabin. They had most likely been sharing close quarters for awhile. Charles' style seemed to be minimal, the only personal items being a family picture and a few beaded necklaces. The room was hardly lived in, you supposed it was only used to sleep in. You didn’t dare ask to go into Arthur’s room, not wanting to spread what little hospitality he had towards you too thin.

Arthur had hardly warmed up to you over the few days you had been stuck together. He didn’t leave his chair often, and when he did he grumbled about his pains. Something about the cold caused his body to ache, you didn’t push for more information. Because of this he moved the rocking chair closer to the fireplace, which was always lit. You’d catch him staring off into the flames, an almost melancholy expression on his face. 

You did your best not to be caught staring at the handsome man, he didn’t take too kindly to you ‘watching him’.

Charles wasn’t necessarily more talkative than his counterpart, but he didn’t mind your eyes on him. He tried in his own ways to loosen the tension between the three of you. He had taken you up on your offer to cook, although he couldn’t seem to stay out of the kitchen. Whether that be helping you chop up vegetables, or just to share your company. 

Although he would leave for an hour or two every day to tend to the livestock they kept. you had learned that that was why Charles had been out in the storm that night. One of their cows had escaped the barn, instead Charles had brought you home. 

“Charles.” Arthur pleaded, his voice low as he stood nearly chest to chest with Charles. He had been in the middle of putting on his snow gear when Arthur had stopped him.

“How many times do we gotta have this conversation?” Charles sighed, shaking his head. You pretended not to notice the tense moment between the two of them. 

“I’m fine.” Arthur huffed, his hand brushing against Charles only for a moment before he crossed his arms, taking a step back. 

“You're not.” He huffed, “It’s about as cold as Colter out there. We hardly survived that last time and now with your-“

“Fine.” Arthur snapped, storming back to the rocking chair. Charles sighed, hesitating by the door before he continued suiting up.

“I’ll be back in an hour or two.” Charles said to the two of you. You gave him a small smile, Arthur on the other hand pretended he hadn’t heard him.

It was silent after Charles left. Arthur scribbled away at his journal while you tidied up around the cabin. You didn’t mind the work, you hadn’t wanted to take advantage of their kindness. You were dusting the mantle above the fireplace, clearing away tiny spiderwebs. Gently moving two hand carved wooden sculptures. One a bison, the other a buck with a great set of antlers. When your eyes fell on a rather detailed drawing of a small family. A man, with dark hair and jagged scars across his face. The woman with as equally dark hair, her hand resting on the shoulder of a young boy. 

“Is this your family?” The question left your lips before you had the chance to think twice about opening your mouth. 

Arthur’s expression darkened as he raised his eyes from the page. 

“Sort of.” He grumbled, letting out a sigh. He got up, walking over to you before taking the drawing off the mantle. He stared at it for a moment before his gaze shifted back over to meet yours. “My brother.” He said pointing to the man with the scars, “His wife and son.” His jaw was clenched tight as he set the drawing back in its place. 

“What happened to them?” You asked, looking up into his stormy blue eyes.

“What happens to all of us.” He sighed. 

“I’m sorry.” You said softly, looking up at their smiling faces. He grunted, but it quickly turned into a nasty dry cough. He doubled over, holding onto the mantle as he sputtered. 

“Are you alright?” You asked, your brows pulling together as you placed your hand on his shoulder. He tensed under your hand, his body shaking as pounded on his chest.

“Fine.” He said, clearing his throat. You removed your hand from his shoulder, feeling a deep pull in your belly as you stepped back. You bumped into his chair, catching yourself on the wooden back. Your eyes fell onto the open journal on the seat. Arthur followed your gaze, scrambling to close the book.

“Oh I-“ Heat flooded your cheeks, “don’t worry I can’t read.” You chuckled nervously as you looked down.

“You can’t-“ Arthur stuttered, his eyebrows pinched together as he looked at you in disbelief. “No one… no one ever taught you?” He asked. 

“No, no my father he-“ You bit your bottom lip, your gaze on the wooden floor, “he didn’t think a woman should be educated.” You mumbled. 

“What a goddamn simpleton.” He growled, clenching his jaw. His expression set into a scowl as he stood there with his hands on his hips. You raised your head to meet his eyes, a nervous smile on your lips as you tried to play it off.

“It’s alright.” You said, shaking your head, wishing that the ground would open up and swallow you whole. It would get you out of this pointless conversation. It wasn’t like you could attend school, not at your age. 

“No it ain’t alright.” He huffed, closing his eyes as though it was physically paining him. “You- you ought to know how to read and write. Everyone should.” He said, shaking his head. He coughed again, although this time it seemed almost forced. It was quiet for a moment. The only sound was the crackling fire as the two of you avoided each other's gaze. 

”I could teach you.” He mumbled.

“You could?” Your eyes widening at his offer.

“It ain’t nothin’.” He said, crossing his arms, looking off to the side. “We can start tomorrow.”

“Thank you- I mean it, thank you Arthur.” 

“Don’t thank me,” He said, shaking his head as he picked up his journal. “I haven’t taught you anything yet.”

The cabin door swung open, the howling of the wind only intensifying without a barrier. Charles quickly entered, shutting the door behind him as he wiped snow off of his clothes and hat. He glanced between you and Arthur.

“Storm might break tonight.” He said, pulling off his gloves as he set them down on the kitchen table. 

“Finally some good news round here.” Arthur said, sitting back down in the rocking chair.

-

The three of you sat down for supper at the wooden table in the middle of the cabin. You and Charles had managed to put together a nice stew. Thankfully the two of them understood the power of stocking up for winter. Something your father on the other hand did not. By early spring your clothes had normally begun to be too big on your frame, needing to be taken in to fit you. If you were to stay the rest of the winter you had no doubt you would have the opposite problem. The thought of staying with Arthur and Charles had become more and more appealing every day. Especially now that you might have the chance to better yourself. Learning to read and write, the thought of being able to pick up a book and actually understand the words. A smile twisted at your lips as you tried to hide your eagerness. 

“I was thinking about bringing the tub in.” Charles said, breaking the silence as his spoon scraped along the bowl. “Might take awhile to fill it but it’d be worth it.” He said, shoveling a spoonful of stew into his mouth as he shrugged. 

“Is it still on the porch?” Arthur asked, his tone almost aloof as he leaned back in his chair. Charles nodded, not raising his head to meet Arthur’s piercing gaze. 

“Do you suppose I could wash up, too?” You asked, looking from one man to the other. They shared a look, before turning back to you.

“I don’t see why not.” Charles nodded, “You can take the first bath.” Returning his attention back to his bowl. 

-

Arthur retired to his room as soon as the last bucket of hot water was added to the tub. Giving you privacy as he awaited his turn in the water.

You stood beside the tub, hesitating as you looked into the steaming water. You would have to wash your clothes in the tub along with your body. While you hadn’t necessarily been thinking when you ran out into the blizzard. You wished you would have had some forethought to pack a bag. It wasn’t like you could just hang your wet clothes by the fire and walk around the damn cabin naked. The thought of the two men seeing you like that once more sent heat throughout your body.

“Everything alright?” Charles' deep voice cut through your thoughts as he set the bucket down.

“I-I don’t have any clean clothes.” You said after a moment, rubbing your arms. Charles' head perked up at this, his eyebrows raising.

“Of course,” He said, his expression returning to a neutral one, “I can get you some of ours to wear while you clean yours.” He got to his feet, “Don’t undress just yet, I’ll be back.” He said before walking into Arthur’s room. You let your hand fall into the water, testing the temperature. Almost letting out a small moan as the warmth enveloped your hand. You couldn’t wait to climb in.

Charles returned with a sheepish smile, holding a flannel shirt and pants.

“I doubt you’ll fit into the pants but it’s the best we could do on short notice.” He chuckled, handing them to you. You grabbed them, your fingers brushing against his, causing your breath to catch in your throat.

“Thank you.” You said covering the hitch of your breath with a small cough.

“You’re welcome.” He said with a small nod, turning his broad back to you as he walked back to his room. “Knock against the wall once you are done.” He said before heading inside.

You set the fresh clothes beside the tub, your fingers unable to work as fast enough as you shedded your own. Unable to wait any longer, you stepped into the warm water. Your nipples hardened at the sudden shift in temperature.

This time you couldn’t contain the pleased hum that left your lips as you sank down into the water. The burn was pleasant on your sore body, easing the ache in your ribs. You grabbed the soap off the chair beside the tub. Lathering it up in your hands before you scrubbed your body. The marks along your ribs were no longer an angry purple. Now they were fading into a pale yellow. 

You were thankful neither Charles or Arthur had said anything about them. It was embarrassing enough to take those beatings. Pointing them out would have been like rubbing salt in the wound. 

But there would be no more beatings. No more. You were free, you could start over. You started to form a plan, cleansing yourself of your old life so you could start anew.

A baptism of fire. Once you could read and write, or once the snow melted enough, you would return home. You would bury your father, or feed him to the wolves, and start your new life.

You were thoroughly pruney when you got out of the tub. Quickly dressing and rushing to ‘your’ room. You knocked against the wall once, running your fingers through your hair as you prepared for bed. 

You felt like a new person as you climbed under the mismatched quilt. You could hear Arthur, or maybe it was Charles, moving around in the living room. No doubt getting undressed and getting into the warm water. The wind no longer howled at the window, Charles was right about the storm breaking.

Although now you could clearly hear voices whispering in the main room. You knew you shouldn’t have listened, should have just ignored it and went back to bed. 

Instead, you pulled back the blankets and slipped out of bed. You crept over to the door, pressing your ear against it.

“Don’t call me that.” Arthur huffed, his voice muffled by the door 

“Why not? It’s not like she’s here.” Charles responded.

“Enough about her, can’t we just- just enjoy our time without her.” He grumbled. Your brows pinched together, a frown tugging at your lips. You didn’t think you were that annoying. You had tried to be helpful, you thought that they might have even been thankful for what you had done. Instead they couldn’t wait to get rid of you.

“Fine.” Charles said, letting out a sigh. You could hear the water sloshing around in the tub. “We can’t send her out on her own.”

“You think I don't know that?” Arthur hissed, “But she shouldn’t- she shouldn’t be here with us.”

“And why not?”

“Because she’s good, Charles.” He paused, coughing. “She’s good and you know the kind of people we are.” It was silent, the only thing you could hear was your breathing. 

What did he mean ‘kind of people they are’? They had been nothing but respectful and hospitable people. Or so you thought. 

“We aren't those people anymore-“

“You were always a better man than me- my sins, I can’t just-“ you heard a splash, “wash the blood off my hands.” You covered your mouth, dampening the small gasp that left your lips. A killer, you were staying with criminals. Although, were you any different? You were a murderer, killing your father without a second thought.

“Stop.” Another pause, “We did what we had to survive.”

“Don’t give me that shit-“ he’s overcome by another coughing fit. “What I did- that was for my own gain, and I’m paying for it every day.”

“Enough.” Charles cut him off, “Enough about her.” 

You pulled back from the door, crawling back to your bed as silently as possible. You had heard enough. This didn’t change anything, you reminded yourself, your plan was the same. Once you were able, you would leave this cabin and never look back

It wasn’t the normal glaring sunlight that woke Charles up that morning as he blinked awake. It was the howling of the wind, damn near rattling the windows. The storm was only getting worse, the snow piling up outside their small cabin. He let out a small groan, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Arthur was curled around him, his arm wrapped lazily around Charles waist. His lips parted like two rose petals as a snore left them. He chuckled softly, partaking in his favorite pastime, studying Arthur. How his skin was weathered by the sun, his cheeks lightly dusted with freckles. How hair never grew over his scar on his chin. Trailing his eyes over the crooked bridge of his nose, never set right after being broken more times than he wanted to know.

Charles’ heart warmed in his chest, caught aflame by the sight of his lover. He ran his thumb over Arthur’s lip, smirking as his brows furrowed in his sleep. Arthur let out a small groan of protest as he turned his face into Charles’ chest. 

“C’mon now.” Charles said, chuckling softly, “We ought to get up.”

“Who says?” Arthur mumbled, his words muffled against Charles’ bare chest

“I do.” He laughed

“When’d you become such a hard ass.” Arthur teased, smirking as his bright blue eyes found Charles.

“When did I meet you again?” He asked, pretending to ponder the question. Arthur rolled his eyes, moving his hand from Charles' waist up his chest. Lightly brushing against his nipple. “You start that again and we’re never gonna leave this damn bed.” He warned.

“That’d be quite a shame.” Arthur smirked, leaning in to nip at Charles’ earlobe. “Why don’t you ride me this morning, partner.” He hummed, pressing open mouthed kisses down Charles’ throat. 

A pleased hum rumbled through Charles' chest, his large hands gripping Arthur’s bare waist. He could feel Arthur’s growing erection, hot and heavy against his thigh. The soft velvety skin seeking friction against his body. 

“Damn it,” He sighed, leaning his head back against the pillow. “Later.” He growled, grabbing a handful of Arthur’s ass. Arthur’s brows pinched together in a small wince, something Charles picked up on immediately. “Was I too rough last night?” He asked, his playful tone replaced by concern as his brows pinched together. 

“You know I liked it.” Arthur grinned, “Just sore s’all.” He shrugged, kissing Charles' collarbone. 

“Arthur-“

“Oh don’t you ‘Arthur’ me.” He huffed, rolling his eyes, “I ain’t some damn porcelain doll.”

“I know you aren’t, you stubborn fool.” Charles said, rolling his eyes, “Doesn’t mean I can’t be concerned.”

“There ain’t nothin’ to be concerned about! I’m fine, I swear it!” Arthur said, a small smile tugging on his lips. “Now get going big fella or we won’t get nothin’ done today.” Arthur said, shooing him out of bed. 

-

“I shouldn’t be gone long.” Charles said as he put on his gloves, feeling Arthur’s eyes.

“I’ll be here.” Arthur sighed. If his gruff voice wasn’t an indication of his displeasure of being left, yet again, the not so subtle pout of his definitely was. His journal sat open on his lap, his fingertips darkened by the charcoal as he sketched away at the paper. Charles nodded, pulling his hat down as he braced himself for the cutting wind. Opening up the door, his hand shielded his eyes as he trudged through the snow. With each step he sank further into the white powder, his legs already aching. The wind biting at his cheeks and nose as he made his way to the barn. 

His stomach dropped as he saw the open door. He picked up his feet, rushing inside the barn. He counted the cattle even though he knew that damn bull was long gone.

In his haste to sink into Arthur’s body last night he must not have shut the barn door all the way. They had been having trouble with this damn beast ever since they purchased him. Constantly plowing through fences and running off. Arthur had got so damn angry last time he had threatened to kill the bastard.

Charles made sure the rest of the cows were there and fed before he trekked back to the house. 

“Damn bull got out again.” Charles huffed as he closed the door to the main cabin. The heat from the cabin burned his face and hands.

“You shittin’ me?” Arthur asked, letting out a frustrated huff. 

“Wish I was.” Charles said, shaking his head.

“You gonna go after ‘im?” Arthur asked, getting to his feet, “Want me to ride with ya?” Charles could tell how bad he was itching to get out of the cabin. Arthur couldn’t stand to be cooped up for too long, something ingrained in him with how often the gang used to move around. 

Although Charles had put his foot down about Arthur going out when the weather got bad. Last time Arthur had ventured out to tend to the livestock he came down with something. Not as bad as the tuberculosis, but it scared Charles all the same. 

He was holed up in bed for a week, a fever burning through him and coughing up a lung. By the time his fever broke, Arthur had soaked all the sheets they owned with his sweat.

He didn’t give a damn how much he pouted, there was no way Arthur was going out in this storm.

“Don’t know if it’s worth it.” He said crossing his arms, “Only thing that damn animal has brought us is a headache.” He ran his hand through his hair. 

“We could always just butcher him, find that little bastard and make a new rug.” He shrugged, a small smirk tugging at his lips.

“Suppose we could.” Charles chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m gonna head out, see if I can pick up his tracks.”

“Take Buell, poor boy could use the exercise.” Arthur called over his shoulder. Charles nodded, walking over to Arthur. He bent down, cupping his cheek before pressing his lips against his. It didn’t matter how many times they collided like this. Charles always managed to steal his breath away, leaving him gasping for more. He wondered if Charles was his ruin and cure all at the same time. 

Arthur smirked as he pulled away, “I haven’t forgotten about your promise from this morning.” He said, gently tugging at his hair.

“I won’t be long.” Charles promised, his own smirk stretching across his face.

He had picked up somewhat of a trail. He supposed that that damn bull had gotten out shortly after he and Arthur went to bed. The snow had covered most of the tracks, and what it didn’t, the wind washed away. 

Buell snorted, pawing at the powdered snow as Charles urged him forward. 

“C’mon boy.” He said softly, patting the steeds' thick neck. His hands ached in his gloves, but at least he hadn’t lost feeling in them yet. He narrowed his gaze, his eyes watering as he looked across the frozen countryside. 

He caught sight of something, something much smaller than a bull. His heart leapt into his throat as the small being collapsed in the snow. He dug his heels into Buell’s side, the horse instantly picking up speed as they raced towards whoever was stupid enough to be walking around in a blizzard.

He jumped off, gathering the person in his arms. A woman, whose clothes were covered in icicles. Her eyelashes nearly frozen together with tears. 

He tore his coat off, a shiver running down his spine as he wrapped it around her. If he didn’t get her out of this cold, and fast, she’d die. 

He slung her over his shoulder as he mounted Buell. Maneuvering her into a bridal style carry as he rode back towards the cabin. 

“You find ‘im?” Arthur asked, not raising his head from his journal as the cabin door swung open. Still not over getting left behind, again.

“Not exactly.” Charles huffed, rushing towards the roaring fire. He laid the woman down on the rug, biting the fingers of his glove as he tore them off.

“Jesus Charles!” Arthur exclaimed, his journal clattering to the floor as he stood. 

“Help me get her clothes off.” Charles ordered, working the buttons of her blouse through the eyelets. 

“Oh dammit.” He sighed, frozen as he stared at the woman.

“You want a dead body on our hands!” Charles barked, shooting Arthur a glare. “Help me god dammit.” Arthur sank to his knees, pulling the woman’s frozen skirt off her body. 

“Furs, she needs furs.” He mumbled, stumbling to his feet as he raced to their bedroom. Charles’ heart sank as he bared her upper body. 

“Shit.” He mumbled, tracing his finger against the dark purple mark.

“Oh hell.” Arthur said as he returned, his eyes falling on the young woman. “Now who would…” He clenched his jaw, rushing over to the woman. Wrapping her in the furs and blankets, trying to avoid glancing at her naked body.

“Poor girl.” Charles sighed, shaking his head as he ran his hand through his hair. 

Arthur cursed under his breath, rubbing a hand over his chin. 

“I’m guessin’ you didn’t find the bull.”

“You’d be right.”

-

You ran the brush through your hair, knowing you couldn’t hide away in your room all day. Although you had no idea how you were supposed to face Arthur and Charles. Not after what you had heard last night. 

The two men were killers…but so were you. They didn’t know you knew, and they didn’t know about your sins.

But if they were bad men, why did they treat you, a vulnerable woman, with so much care? Why did they respect you and your anatomy when they could have taken advantage of you time after time?

It didn’t matter, you would just ride it out until the snow melted. You would just have to try and keep your distance. Although that seemed impossible, especially when there was nowhere to escape from them other than this room. And it didn’t help that you were completely engulfed by Charles' scent. If only you had some other clothes to wear.

You cinched the belt tighter around your waist, cuffing the pants at your ankles. It would have to do for now.

You opened the door, feeling like an absolute fool as you stepped into the main room. 

“Morning sleeping beauty.” Charles chuckled, his lip twitching upwards as he glanced over at you. 

“Funny.” You said, heat flooding your cheeks as you looked down. 

“Don’t tease the poor girl Charles.” Arthur said with a small smile, one of the first ones that actually seemed genuine from him.

What had happened between last night and this morning? 

“So, you still wanna learn to read?” Arthur asked, setting his journal to the side. 

Right! You had almost forgotten.

“Yes.” You nodded, unable to stop the grin that spread across your lips. Your worries melting like warm butter the longer you were around them.

“Well, first thing you gotta learn is the alphabet, all the letters.” He said, leaning against the table, his hand resting on his hip.

“You two have fun.” Charles chuckled, shaking his head as he left to tend to the animals.

“Now, there are twenty six letters.” Arthur said, turning your attention to the paper spread out on the table. “I’ve put them all in order.”

“There’s an order?” You asked, looking up from the papers.

“Yeah, course there’s an order.”

“But why?”

“Well cause-“ He paused, his brows furrowed as he looked down, “cause that’s just the way it is. Now it starts with the letter a.”

-

“Alright, which one is b?” Arthur asked, leaning forward as he quizzed you. Your eyes moved over the letters until you found it, tapping it with your finger. “Good! Now point to the letter r.”

You smiled at his praise, pointing to ‘r’. “Well ain’t you quick.” He chuckled, shaking his head, “God, it took almost a week for Dutch to teach me.”

“Was he your teacher?” You asked, your elbows resting on the table as you leaned forward. He faltered, his shoulders tensing before he nodded. 

“Sort of.” He said, clearing his throat, “Guess I was probably about ten years younger than you. Too bullheaded to actually pay attention to anything he had to say.” His voice softened, an almost melancholy sense to it. “You’ll probably be reading in another week or so.” He said.

“You think so?” You asked, unable to hide the excitement in your tone.

“Sure.” He nodded, “You’re a natural.” You beamed looking up into his eyes. He stared back, an expression you couldn’t quite place on his face.

Charles opened the door, returning from doing the chores. Arthur looked away, ending watever moment the two of you had.

“How was class today Mr. Morgan?” Charles teased as he took off his winter coat.

“Well she’s a hell of a lot smarter than me, that’s for sure.” He said giving you a small smile as he shook his head.

“I have a good teacher.” You smiled, looking from Arthur to Charles.

“Yeah?” Charles asked, his own smile spreading across his lips. “We got a scholar on our hands, Arthur.” Heat blooms in your cheeks as you bashfully lower your head. 

“Did ya make sure the barn door was closed?” Arthur teased, smirking up at Charles. 

“That mouth of yours is gonna get you in trouble one day.” Charles chides, his words lacking any edge as he rolled his eyes. “Do you think you’re too tired for a different kind of lesson?” Charles asked, turning his attention to you.

“What kind?” You asked, straightening your back.

“Picked up a rabbit's tracks back near the barn, you ever skinned an animal?” He asked, a glint in his eye. You shook your head, your stomach flip-flopping.

“Oh come on girl, it ain’t that bad.” Arthur chuckled, his hand squeezing your shoulder as he passed you. Arthur’s touch did little to ease your nerves. “You gonna go get it?” Arthur said, crossing his arms as he leaned up against the table. Trying, and failing, to act nonchalant.

“Was thinking about it.” Charles hummed, “Would you go with me?” He asked, taking Arthur’s bait.

“Always.” Arthur grinned, grabbing his blue coat off the hook. “We’ll be back.” He nodded to you before the two of them headed out the door. 

It was the first time you had been left alone in their home. They trusted you enough to leave you alone in their home. You bit your lip, trying to stop your giddy smile from spreading. You piled up the papers, in alphabetical order, before setting them off to the side. 

-

You had successfully tidied up the cabin by the time they came back. Laughing as they opened the door, their cheeks flushed from the cold.

Arthur tossed the rabbit carcass onto the table, shrugging off his coat. 

The thought of learning a new… skill. Had been exciting at first, but now that the dead animal was in front of you, the only thing you wanted to do was cringe. 

“Oh it ain’t that bad.” Arthur chuckled, walking past you. In a better mood than you had seen him in all week. Spending an hour or two chasing down a small animal in the freezing cold would have had the opposite effect on you.

Charles sat down across from you, “It really isn’t that bad.” He smiled, handing you a hunting knife. You hesitantly took it, staring down at the unmoving animal. 

“Is this a skill I really need?” You asked, looking back up at Charles. 

“You don’t have to.” He said with a small shrug. 

“No- no I need to.” You said, shaking your head. You didn’t want to let either of them down, “What do I do first?” 

“Pinch the hide and make a cut near the base of its neck.” He instructed, nodding towards the rabbit. You swallowed thickly, pinching the back of the rabbits back. You sliced through its skin, grimacing. 

“Now what?” You asked, swallowing thickly as you looked down at the unmoving rabbit. 

“You’ll want to tear the opening- no not with the knife.”

“Well what else would I tear it open with then?” You huffed, setting the knife down on the table. Your breath coming quicker, your chest pounding against your ribcage.

“He means with your fingers.” Arthur called over his shoulders, a dry cough leaving his lips.

“You’re joking!“ You gasped, gawking at Charles. He barked out a laugh, shaking his head.

“Come on now sweetheart it isn’t that bad.” He grinned, quirking his brow. “Just put your fingers in the cut and pull.”

“And pull?” You gawked, “No- no, no, no, no.” Your legs shaky as you stood from the table, the lump in your throat growing “No I can’t.” You said, shaking your head as you wiped your hands off on your- Arthur’s- trousers.

Both the men burst out laughing, their voices ringing in your ears as the walls of the cabin closed in on you. Your breath started coming fast, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you looked down at the rabbit.

The memory of your fathers unblinking gaze forced itself to the front of your mind as you stared into the animal's cold dead eyes.

You rushed out of the cabin, bile moving up your throat as you pushed the door open. You swallowed hard, the cold air cooling your flushed cheeks. You leaned against one of the wooden beams of the porch. Digging your nails into your palms, the dull pain grounding you as your mind seemed to drift farther and farther away. 

Your father wasn’t a man to have many friends, who would want to be around a man like him? Would anyone have stopped by the house yet? You rarely got any visitors and not with weather like this. 

On one hand you wanted his body to be found, mainly so you wouldn’t have to think about the alternative. His body decomposing into the wooden floor of the kitchen. On the other hand, who would they suspect for his murder? A gunshot to the chest at that close of range could hardly be called an accident. Certainly not if you confessed to being the one who pulled the trigger. You could pin it on a robbery gone wrong. You ran for your life and got lost out in the woods, unable to return until the snow melted. It wasn’t entirely false. But if they didn’t believe you, you’d be hung for sure. Were a few moments of freedom worth your life? Although, how much of a life was it? You had experienced more living in the past week than you had in years. You had moments of actual joy, happiness. Although that thought only made you feel more conflicted, your stomach sinking like a rock.

“Hey.” Charles' voice cut through your constant flow of thought. The door of the cabin shut behind him. “Are you alright?” He asked, hesitantly stepping towards you, reminiscent of how he had approached you the first time you had met. 

“Fine.” You nodded, looking out at the snowy landscape. He sighed, walking up beside you.

“I can tell that you’re not ‘fine’.” You could see he was looking at you from the corner of your eye. 

“I’ll be fine.” You amended your statement, sparing him a glance. The two of you looked at each other for a moment, his eyes searching yours for something you didn’t want to give up.

“I’m sorry about the rabbit.” He said, his voice low and gentle. “I sprung it on you, that was my fault.”

“It’s not-“ You groaned, feeling tears prick your eyes as you covered your face with your aching hands. He kept quiet, letting the two of you sit in silence while you gathered your thoughts. He didn’t rush you, he waited patiently, as though the tension or the cold didn’t bother him. “It’s not about the rabbit.” You wiped at your face with the sleeves of your flannel. Sage and lavender filled your senses, the familiar and unmistakable scent of Charles.

“Was Arthur right?” He asked.

“About what?” You sniffled, looking up at him

“That you were running from something.” He answered, raising his brows. You pursed your lips, returning your gaze to the frozen landscape. Your frustration only growing at his uncanny ability to read you. 

“My father is not a kind man.” You said after a moment, making sure to refer to him in the present tense. “I had to get away.” You said swallowing thickly. Although you didn’t know if you were trying to convince him or yourself.

He nodded, “You did the right thing.”

“You don’t know that.” You scoffed, shaking your head, “You don’t know me.” Your words were unnecessarily harsh, you regretted them as soon as they left your lips.

“I think I do.” He said, his brows furrowed. Although his eyes held no anger towards you despite his tone. “I think we're more alike than you realize.” He turned his gaze away from you, wiping the snow away from the wooden railing.

“What does that mean?” You asked, narrowing your eyes. He chuckled softly, shaking his head.

“You are daft sometimes.” He smiled.

“Did you come out here to insult me?” You huffed. The cold did little to help your mood as you started to shiver.

“Is that what you think I came out here to do?” He asked, sighing as he looked over at you. “We are all running from something. Some of us have just been running longer.” He shrugged. You purse your lips, sticking your hands under your armpits to try and warm them up. 

“My father was a kind man until we lost my mother.” Charles said, staring up at the night sky. You softened, your brows pinching together as you looked over at him. “I suppose any man would lose part of themselves if they lost someone like her.” A low sigh left his lips. His voice carrying an undeniable sense of sadness. 

“I’m sorry.” You said softly, you wished you could do something to comfort him. Something that wouldn’t cross a boundary between the two of you. You hoped your words of condolences were enough. 

“Arthur and I started running around the same time in our lives, maybe that’s why we get along so well.” He said with a dry chuckle, a far away look in his eye. “Maybe that’s why we get along as well.” He suggested, his eyes near obsidian in the low light as they found yours. Like steel striking flint, a spark caught between the two of you. Warmth spread throughout your body despite the freezing temperatures. You couldn’t tell whether the goosebumps springing up on your arms were from the snowfall or from him. You didn’t understand it, didn’t understand how a man you had met nearly a week ago could make you feel things you hadn’t felt in years. How they both made you feel things.

Now that was a dangerous thought. 

“Are you not cold?” You asked, trying to snuff out whatever flame was now growing inside you.

“You’re the one who ran out here.” He said with a sly smile, “C’mon, supper won’t cook itself.”

 -

“How often do you boys go hunting?” You asked, nearly moaning over the rabbit stew. The two men smirked at each other before turning their attention back to you.

“Now you know we wouldn’t have had this meat if we hadn’t dressed that rabbit.” Arthur hummed, raising an eyebrow. 

“Dressed? If anything you two undressed him.” You said, your brows furrowed as you looked up from your bowl. Charles bit his lip, trying to hide his smile. Arthur on the other hand, didn’t even try to hold in his laughter. Heat crept up your neck as you looked between the two men. “I’ve said something foolish haven’t I?” You mumbled looking down.

“Not foolish, just funny.” Charles said with a kind smile.

“I’m guessin’ no one hunted much in your family?” Arthur asked, although he could have guessed that from the way you went white as a sheet while looking at the rabbit. You shook your head, shoveling another spoonful into your mouth.

“My father… he was- is a man that doesn’t know much about the outdoors.” You shrugged, hoping they didn’t catch your small slip up. “The only meat we ever got was from the butcher, if we had the money.” Which you never did. Most of the time you had to get creative just to eat something edible for supper. If that meant cutting eyes out of old potatoes you would do it. 

“This man sounds like the simplest of the lot.” Arthur huffed

“Arthur.” Charles warned, looking between the two of you. 

“No Charles it had to be said.” He said, setting down his silverware with a clang, “First the man says women shouldn’t be educated, which is the biggest load of horse shit I’ve ever heard. Now she tells me he don’t know how to provide for his family, neither?”

“Arthur, it's okay really.” You mumbled, swallowing thickly as heat flooded your cheeks. 

“No it ain’t.” He growled, “A woman like you deserves the best in life, not some good for nothin’ father.” You bit your lip, looking down at the table. Your stomach twisting, as shame and gratitude fought for dominance in your head.

“Guess it’s a good thing you found me then.” You said, trying to ease the conversation into a new subject. An emotion flashed across Arthur’s face, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. 

“Yeah… yeah I guess it was.” He said, picking up his spoon as he began to eat again. Charles watched the two of you with an almost knowing gaze. Although you didn’t know exactly what he knew. 

“I never did thank the two of you for saving me.” You said setting down your utensils. “Thank you, I mean it. You could’ve left me but you- well you saved my life. For that I will be forever in your debt.” 

“Well we couldn’t have left ya to freeze out there.” Arthur mumbled, looking down at his bowl as he ate. Although it seemed like he was purposefully avoiding your gaze. His words a far cry from his earlier sentiment of saving you,

“You’re welcome.” Charles said, a smile tugging at the corner of his lip.

You nodded, your expression mirroring his as you looked at him from across the table. That warm fuzzy feeling settled in your stomach as the three of you ate. A dangerous thought entered your mind, one that had been slinking forward for days.

You didn’t want to leave. 

You were comfortable, happy here with them. So they had made a few mistakes, hadn’t everyone? Like Charles had said, they weren’t those people anymore. Whatever that meant you believed him- or you wanted to believe him.

You had to go. Before you got in too deep. Before these confusing feelings grew too large to be ignored. You would have to return home.

You’d been up since the sun rose. Its soft rays danced upon your eyelids, rousing you out of your sleep. You had hardly moved, watching as the beams of light crept up the walls. You had heard Arthur and Charles stir. Their door opened and closed, their heavy footfalls on the wooden floor alerting you to their presence in the room. Soon enough the rocking chair began to creak, Arthur no doubt settling down with his journal. His hands gripped the small piece of charcoal as it glided across the parchment. His brows knitted together in concentration, eyes downcast, never leaving the precise strokes of the pencil. 

You groaned, pushing the heels of your palms into your eyes. Spots dancing in the darkness of your vision. Christ, what was wrong with you? You rolled over, bringing your knees into your chest. You wrapped your arms around your body, trying to get Arthur off your mind. 

The cabin door shut, grabbing your attention. Charles was off to tend to the animals. Wrapped up in his thick coat, stomping through the snow towards the barn. You could clearly see him in your mind. His cheeks flushed, his plump lips parted, hot breaths of air leaving them. 

You pushed your face into the pillow, muffling your cry of frustration. You couldn’t even escape them in your mind. 

A deep, almost nutty aroma filled your senses. You raised your head, your brows furrowed as you tried to place the smell.

Coffee. You rolled out of bed, putting on your clothes from yesterday. You needed to get your hands on some new clothes, maybe they had some scraps of fabric. You didn’t care what they looked like at this point, you would wear a potato sack if it at least fit you. 

Cinching your belt around your waist you exited your room. 

Arthur raised his head as you opened the door, his eyes flitted from you towards his open journal. 

“About time you joined us.” He mumbled, shutting his journal as he tossed it onto the rocking chair.

“It's not a crime to sleep in is it?” You asked, raising your brows as you walked over to the fire, “I didn’t know y’all had coffee.” You hummed, closing your eyes as you savored the scent. 

“Didn’t sleep well last night.” He grumbled, heading into the kitchen. He pulled out two metal cups, thrusting one into your hands. He held the cup steady in your hand as he poured the rich liquid into it. Although his hands were calloused, they were surprisingly gentle against yours. 

You swallowed thickly, nodding your thanks as you brought the cup to your lips. You didn’t trust your voice. You could feel the heat from his hand lingering on your own.

“So,” You started, clearing your throat, “What are you gonna teach me today Mr. Morgan?” You teased, trying to hide your nerves as you sat down at the table. 

“Well Miss, I suppose we should continue working on the alphabet, unless ya know it by heart?” He asked, raising an eyebrow as he leaned over the table. His arms nearly bulging out of his sleeves. 

“I mean, not by heart.” You said looking down into your cup. 

“Well lucky for you there’s a- a bit of a trick to learning it.” He said clearing his throat, the tips of his ears tinged with pink. 

“Yeah?” You asked, copying his stance as you leaned forward. “Well what is it?”

 He sighed, pursing his lips as he wiped at the table with his hand. “Well it’s… it’s a song.” His expression soured as he watched the grin spread across your face. “No I don’t wanna hear it.” He groaned.

“Oh c'mon Arthur, sing for me.” You chuckled, placing your hands under your chin.

“You damn witchy woman.” He huffed, shaking his head. Although his words lacked any fire, “Why don’t I just keep it to myself huh? I am the teacher here.” He said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Now that ain’t fair.” You pouted, sitting back in your chair.

“Life ain’t fair darlin’.” He chuckled, his deep baritone shooting straight to your core as you looked up at him. His teeth glinted as his lips pulled back in a wolfish grin. “But I suppose, just this once, I’ll humor ya.” He relented, “Just don’t say I didn’t warn ya.” 

He cleared his throat, lowering his gaze as he very begrudgingly began to sing you the abc’s. You couldn’t help but find it charming, the way his cheeks flushed as he sang the letters to the tune of twinkle twinkle little star.

“… won’t you sing with me.” He finished, letting out a sigh that sounded more like a wheeze as he looked up at you. “What? Do I got somethin’ on my face?” He huffed.

“No, nothing.” You chuckled softly, shaking your head as butterflies fluttered around in your gut.

“Go on, you try it.” He said, crossing his arms.

“Seriously?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes, seriously, this is your lesson for the day and I wanna hear those pipes girl.” He smiled, sitting down across from you, “Now go on.”

You huffed, steeling yourself as you looked down. If you didn’t look at him it wouldn’t be as bad. All you had to do was be able to sing through the alphabet, it couldn’t be that hard. Arthur cut you off before you got halfway through 

“You missed a letter.” He said, your eyes widening as you looked up at him.

“No I did not!” You scoffed.

“Ya sure did.” He nodded, a smile tugging at the corner of his lip.

“You’re makin’ it up so I have to sing that stupid song again!” You huffed, crossing your arms as heat flooded your cheeks.

“Now that is a mighty strong accusation.” He chuckled, shaking his head, the skin at the corner of his eyes crinkling. “Ya missed ‘M’. Start again, we ain’t quittin’ til you get it right.” 

You probably sang that damn song twenty times before Charles got back. Which only added to your embarrassment. 

“… won’t you sing with me.” You finished, your words slightly muffled by your hands covering your face.

“Atta girl!” Arthur chuckled, starting to clap.

“No- no clapping.” You groaned as Charles laughed.

“Good job.” Charles smiled, giving you a nod.

“If I never have to sing that song again I’ll die a happy woman.” You said, shaking your head as you peeked through your fingers. Unable to stop your own smile from spreading across your face. 

Charles walked over to you, still wearing his thick winter coat. 

“So, you wanna get out of here?” He asked, leaning against the table. You raised an eyebrow at him, not entirely following. “My lesson wasn’t exactly… fun yesterday.” He said with a shrug. “I want to make it up to you.” 

“Can I ask what it is?” You asked, crossing your arms. 

“If you want to ruin the surprise.” He said, an easy smile playing on his lips. You huffed, biting your lip as you looked up at him. 

“I don’t have a coat.”

“Oh, take mine.” Arthur said, not looking up as he gathered the papers from your ‘lesson’. “Keep ya real warm.” 

Oh sure it would keep you warm, wrapped up in Arthur scent as you spent one on one time with Charles. 

“Alright.” You said hesitantly, slowly getting up from the table as you went to put your boots on. You laced up your boots, not missing the subtle smirk Arthur gave Charles. You put Arthur’s coat on, the thing was giant on your frame. Completely engulfed in Arthur scent. Charles nodded, opening the door and leading you outside. 

The snow was a thick blanket on the ground, but at least it hadn’t snowed since the storm had ceased. 

“Will my toes fall off before I see my surprise?” You asked Charles as the two of you walked through the thick powder.

“I doubt they will.” He hummed, the deep sound rumbling through his chest. 

He led you to the barn. It was a bit warmer inside at least, but the smell of livestock was a bit overpowering. 

“Is this the surprise?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Patience.” He said, visible hot puffs of air left his mouth as he closed the door. “This way.” He said, leading you further into the barn. 

Tied up against the wall, stood two beautiful horses. They munched on some hay, bobbing their heads as Charles approached.

“Come here.“ He smiled, offering you his hand as he walked up to the gray spotted one. “She won’t hurt you.” You let him pull you closer, his hand enveloped your own as he pulled you over to him. He laid your hand on her neck, her skin rippled underneath your touch as she flinched.

“Good girl.” He mumbled, smiling softly at the two of you. You pet the horse, smiling as she stood there. “This is Taima.”

“She’s beautiful.” You said softly, “I suppose this was a good surprise.”

“This isn’t it.” He said, finding your eyes, “I want to teach you how to ride.” Your eyes widened slightly.

“But I don’t have my own horse.”

“You'll be riding her, I’ll ride Buell.” He nodded to the golden coated horse.

“I- are you sure? I don’t know what I’m doing.” You sighed, shaking your head.

“No one does before they’re taught.” He shrugged, “It’s an important skill to have, since you’ll leave us one day.” His words left a bad taste in your mouth. You were excited to learn new things but at the same time, each lesson was just one step closer to leaving Arthur and Charles.

“Who taught you?” You asked, letting out a big breath as you changed the subject.

“My father.” He said, looking over the saddle, adjusting it slightly. “You’ll start on Taima, Buell is… spirited.” He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “He needs to get out more, stretch his legs.” He said mainly to himself as he ran a gloved hand down Taima’s flank. “Climb on.” He said, patting the saddle. You bit your lip, letting out a breath as you put your foot in the stirrup. You swung your leg over her back, feeling her skin ripple as your legs settled on either side of her.

“Now you’ll want to find your balance.” He instructed, moving to stand next to you. “You want to be as balanced in the saddle as you are standing. Your body should be a straight line from your shoulder, hip to heel.”

“Easier said than done.” You sighed, trying to find your balance as you hung onto the horn of the saddle. 

“You’re afraid.” He said, shaking his head, “They can sense your fear. Try to relax.” 

You huffed, trying to find your balance and keep your body a straight line. You moved forward on the saddle, tipping to your left side. You reached out, grabbing Charles' shoulder.

“Hey,” He said softly, his hand moving to your waist, “I got you.” He nodded, your heart leapt into your throat as he steadied you.

You nodded, swallowing thickly as you regained your balance. Once you felt confident enough you let go of his shoulder and grabbed the reins.

“We’re not going anywhere just yet.” He chuckled, smiling up at you, “Give me those.” He said, holding out his hand. You handed him the reins, letting out a surprised squeak as he started leading Taima around the barn.

“I thought we weren’t going anywhere yet!” You gasped, staring at him with wide eyes.

“We haven’t left the barn have we?” He asked with a sly smile, his eyes sparkling with mischief. 

“You’re awful.” You groaned, trying to maintain your balance as Taima moved around the barn. You moved your hips in time with each step, keeping your body as straight of a line as you could.

“You’re getting it.” He chuckled encouragingly, looking back at you over his shoulder.

“Well you didn’t give me much of a choice did you?” You huffed, a smile spreading across your lips. 

“Suppose I didn’t.” He shrugged. Your hands and feet were positively frozen by the time Charles ended your lesson. You were glad to be back inside near the fire. You ripped your gloves off, walking over to the fire to warm up. 

“You two have fun?” Arthur asked, looking up from his journal.

“You know, it wasn’t half bad.” You smiled, your hands and feet burning from the sudden shift in temperature. A warm smile overtook Charles’ expression, making his rosy cheeks even brighter. 

“Better than the last ‘lesson’ Charles taught you?” Arthur teased, looking back at Charles.

“I certainly hope so.” Charles huffed, picking up Arthur’s coat that you shed near the door as he hung his own coat up.

“I’d have to agree.” You hummed, grinning at the two men. “I uh- I was wondering if perhaps you had some more clothes you don’t wear as often? I know I must be getting unpleasant to be around.” You chuckled sheepishly, you had been wearing these clothes for a couple days now. You doubted you smelt like roses.

“You know, I think we might have some clothes neither of us fit in anymore.” Charles nodded, rubbing his hands together as he walked into their room. He returned with a couple shirts, well worn by the years but they would do.

“Thank you, I’ll go change.” You nodded, getting to your feet and heading to your room. You were glad to have some ‘new’ clothes and honestly the pants were growing on you. You weren’t nearly as cold as you normally were back home, but that could also be due to the fact that these conditions were better than back home. This cabin had become your very own slice of heaven on earth. 

You walked back out into the main room, glad to be in some new clothes. 

“Those fit better.” Charles smiled, looking up as he started to prepare supper. Arthur looked up, his neutral expression slowly working into something that you would describe as anger. 

“That’s my shirt.” He said, his face reddening as his jaw ticked.

“I thought Charles said these were clothes you didn’t fit in anymore.” You said, looking down at the blue shirt. 

“Arthur, you don’t fit in that anymore.” Charles said, setting down his knife. His brows furrowed as he looked at the two of you.

“That don’t mean it ain’t mine.” He huffed, slamming his journal shut as he got up. 

“I- I’m sorry.” You mumbled taking a step back, your heart clenched painfully in your chest as he strode towards you. You flinched, your stomach dropped as you prepared yourself for a blow, a blow that never came. 

You hesitantly opened your eyes, Arthur stared down at you with a pained expression.

“Oh darlin’ I-“ He started, but you didn’t hear much of anything else. Blood rushed to your cheeks as you felt the familiar prickle in your nose. Tears started to sting your eyes as you turned on your heel and ran back into your room. You could have died from how damn embarrassed you were. You tore his shirt off, the rest of your clothes following. Your skin felt raw as you climbed into bed, throwing the covers over your head. 

Just when you think you might be figuring them out, something so simple as a shirt made all your progress to mean nothing. You’d make them take you home tomorrow. You at least knew the alphabet now, that was a start. You could teach yourself how to read, you didn’t need them. You didn’t need anyone. If you rationed the rest of the food in the pantry at home, you'd have enough to last you until the first week of summer now that father is dead.

Father. Dear God what state would his body be in now? Would you have the strength to drag his body out of the house? Would you even be able to with the level of decomposition?

Christ, you didn’t want to think about it.

You could hardly think of it as home now, it was only his grave. This was home. This cabin, here with Arthur and Charles. Or were they home?

No. No they weren’t. 

You didn’t leave your room the rest of the night. You tried your best to ignore their whispering on the other side of the door. It wasn’t like you didn’t know what you were talking about. How many more times would you lose control like that? Why did your mind have to play such cruel tricks on you? Arthur wouldn’t hurt you. Neither of them would. That nagging thought started to whisper in the back of your mind. But they could. They had hurt people before, killed people before. You had heard them admit it when they hadn’t known you were listening. You doubted theirs hadn’t been in self defense either.

But a sin was a sin. No matter the circumstances.

The rays of sunshine streaming through your window had woken you. You didn't even remember falling asleep as you rubbed your eyes. You climbed out of bed, no sense in delaying whatever awkward conversation was bound to be had. You put your clothes back on, tying the string of your skirt.

You gathered up the clothes they had lent you before leaving your room. Arthur wasn’t sitting in his normal spot, instead he was standing in front of the fireplace. He looked almost nervous. At his feet was a rather large trunk.

His head snapped in your direction at the sound of the door opening. His adam's apple bobbed as he watched you. You set the clothes down on the table, neither of you spoke. 

“Charles already left.” He said after a moment, clearing his throat. 

“I guessed that.” You mumbled, running your hand along the wood grains of the table. He cleared his throat again, his hands on his hips as he looked down at the trunk. 

“M’sorry about last night.” He said softly, raising his eyes to look at you. “I’d- I’d never hurt you.” He swore, his words carrying an undeniable weight to them. You nodded, swallowing past the lump in your throat. “I uh- I have something for ya.” He said, opening the trunk. Inside was a bunch of clothes in different conditions. “You can do whatever ya want with ‘em. If ya wanna tear ‘em apart and make somethin’ new or just… Hell, I don't know.” He sighed, running his hand down his face.

“Thank you Arthur.” You said with a small smile, ending his misery. He nodded, giving you a sheepish smile.

“You can keep the trunk, too.” He added, coughing slightly. 

“Oh, well thank you.” You said, “I’ll uh, I’ll need help moving it into my room. Looks heavy.” You chuckled walking over to him.

“Well it ain’t light that’s for sure.” He nodded a small smile spreading on his lips. “Charles and I’ll haul it into your room when he gets back.” He nodded, walking past you.

You sat down next to the trunk, looking through it. There were definitely some salvageable things in here, and the things that weren’t you would make into something new. You dug through the trunk, your fingers brushing up against a round wooden frame.

You sat back on your haunches, pulling the frame out of the bottom of the trunk. A woman with a kind smile stared back at you through the photo. Her hair pulled back into a bun at the nape of her neck. 

“Arthur,” You called looking up at him. He turned, his eyes landing on the photograph.

“Well I’ll be damned.” He said softly, walking over to you. You handed him the frame, his finger trailing over the woman’s face. “Thought I lost it.” He mumbled, his lips turning upwards.

“Who is she?”

“My momma.” He smiled, looking over at you. “God I- I thought I left it back at camp.” He said, shaking his head. He got to his feet, placing the frame on the mantle. 

“What else is in here?” You asked, pulling the clothes out onto the floor. Arthur sat down across from you, helping you pull out the contents of the trunk. He grabbed a few photographs, his eyes softening.

“Copper.” He chuckled as you peered over the trunk. Your own smile grew as you looked at the photo of a dog. The next was a photo of a man who looked similar to Arthur. He held up a sign, but you couldn’t read it just yet. “My pa.” He nodded, flipping to the next photo.

This one had three men. A dark haired man in the middle, an older man to one side of him and… was that Arthur?

“Is that you?” You asked, only able to look at it for a moment before he pulled it away.

“You don’t need to see that,” He muttered, getting to his feet as he walked over to his journal. He opened it to a random page, putting the pictures inside before closing it. The tips of his ears tinged pink.

“Oh you were cute!” You chuckled, shaking your head. You pulled out another frame, your smile falling as you looked at the beautiful woman. It was obvious she had money by looking at her clothes and jewelry. Status most likely, too. You knew Arthur had a brother, but you highly doubted this was his sister. 

Your gut clenched, jealousy burning through you as you looked down at Arthur’s past love. It wasn’t hard to put two and two together. “She’s pretty.” You said softly, biting the inside of your cheek as you looked up at Arthur.

He turned his head towards you, his eyes landing on the photo. His expression fell slightly as his feet moved towards you. You freely handed him the frame, happy to get it out of your sight. But then your eyes landed on one last photo. Young Arthur and the woman. You took the photo, tearing your eyes away from it as you held it up for him. 

“You were a cute couple,” You said, grateful that he took it from your fingers. Easing the burning in your belly. “Although I think the beard suits you more than the clean shaven look.” You said, trying to ease the tension in the room. He chuckled slightly, his hand on his hip. 

“Yeah well… you know how it goes.” He sighed, clearing his throat, “Her daddy didn’t like me much and… she married a nice fella.” He shrugged, placing the frame and photo face down on the table. “Guess everything works out how it ought to in the end.” He said, his bright blue eyes finding yours. 

“Suppose so.” You said breathlessly, your heart thumping against your ribcage. The air gained a sudden thickness, like right before a lightning storm. Just waiting for the first bolt to light up the sky.

Charles came in like rolling thunder, flinging the door open as he walked inside. He took off his snow gear, hanging up his coat. 

You glanced away from him, feeling warmth bloom in your cheeks as you started to put the clothes back in the trunk.

“Ah, you found the clothes.” Charles said, his breath heavy as he took off his boots. “I uh- have some sewing supplies if that’s something you’d be interested in.” He said, standing at his full height.

“I’d like that.” You nodded, “I can mend anything the two of you bring me as well.”

“Might take you up on that.” Charles grinned, his eyes taking on an almost amber shine in the fire light. Your heart skipped a beat as he caught your eye. 

You had only felt like this once many years ago. Back when love was easy and you were too young to know better. But you had never felt this way about two men before. At least not at the same time. 

The day passed quickly, you held off on your lessons. Spending your time taking in the trousers they had given you to fit better. Along with mending a few holes in Arthur and Charles’ shirts. They had hauled the trunk into your room, setting it at the foot of your bed.

“I’ll hate to leave it.” You said softly, folding the clothes neatly in the trunk.

“What d’ya mean?” Arthur asked, furrowing his brows as he stood in the doorway.

“When I go home.” You said looking up at him, “I couldn’t possibly carry it back when it was a struggle for the two of you.” You said, shaking your head. Arthur went eerily quiet, when you raised your head to look at him he was gone. 

Sleep evaded you most of the night. You laid in bed, tossing and turning until you couldn’t take it anymore. You’d brew some tea or something to help you at least relax. You opened the door into the main room, nearly jumping out of your skin as you saw Arthur’s silhouette. Your hand flew up to cover your heart as you caught your breath. 

“You scared me half to-“ He cut you off with a soft snore. You padded over to him, a smile tugging at your lips. He looked so peaceful, the deep lines smoothed out on his forehead and between his brows. You could have stood there all night admiring him, but your eyes were drawn downwards. In his lap sat his journal, open to the page he was working on.

You swallowed the gasp that threatened to leave your lips as your eyes landed on the drawing.

It was you. A sketch of you, with your head slightly turned down as you sewed. You had never seen anything like it, each little detail was accounted for in the drawing. 

What did it mean? Was he only sketching, something he did often. But he didn’t often draw you. Hell he never drew you, or so you thought. It was mainly animals or flowers you saw when you were able to catch a glimpse. 

What did this mean? Were you just a different model to draw? Your mind was going a mile a minute trying to make sense of this. Meanwhile your traitorous heart sang as the thought entered your mind that maybe, maybe Arthur could have feelings for you.

Only you didn’t just have feelings for Arthur, Charles had captured your heart as well. You couldn’t choose between the two of them if the moment presented itself. 

You took one last glance at the sketch and then at Arthur. Your heart pounding as you looked at him, the crease between his brows smoothed out by sleep. Your fingers itched to reach out and touch him. To run your fingers through his honey brown hair, or caress his cheek. To feel his stubble against your palm, or the soft kiss of his lips. 

You shook your head, clearing your mind of these thoughts. You returned to your bedroom wide awake, knowing you would not be getting much sleep tonight. 

Charles didn’t sleep well that night, he didn’t understand why until his hand reached out to the cold side of the bed. Reaching for Arthur’s warm freckled back to bury his face in. Only to find the cool sheets in his wake.

It was barely light, the sun just peeking over the horizon. Casting a bright ochre glow across the sky, slowly engulfing the dark blue. He could see clouds darkening in the distance as he rubbed his eyes, putting on his trousers and shirt. 

He walked out into the main room, softly closing the door behind him. Arthur sat in front of the fire, wrapped in a plaid blanket.

“You’re up early.” He said, waking over to him, his arms crossed as he waited for him to take the bait.

“Sun woke me up.” Arthur mumbled, a weak lie, staring into the fireplace.

“Did you come to bed last night?” Charles asked, raising an eyebrow as he stepped in front of Arthur. Arthur huffed, mirroring Charles’ stance as he crossed his arms. 

“No.” Arthur grumbled, lowering his eyes. Too tired to think up a lie, besides Charles would see right through it. Charles sighed, walking over to the mantle. He leaned his elbow against it, enjoying the warmth after leaving the cold sheets. “She’s still planning on leavin’.” Arthur huffed, his jaw ticking. 

“I know.” Charles nodded, looking down. A low sigh leaving his lips. 

“Well what are we gonna do?” Arthur asked, leaning forward in his seat as he clasped his hands together.

“What do you suggest we do?” Charles asked, looking down at him. “Tell her she can’t leave? Hold her here as some prisoner?”

“No dammit.” Arthur huffed, rubbing the space between his brows. “But we can’t- we can’t let her go back to her bastard of a father. You remember those bruises, how she nearly jumped out of her damn skin when I walked toward her the other night?”

“Keep your voice down.” Charles warned, letting out a frustrated sigh “You think I like it any more than you do? You think I haven’t wanted to track that bastard down!” He asked, narrowing his eyes, “I’m trying to buy us more time, just like you. But we can’t stop her from leaving.” Arthur clenched his jaw so hard his teeth ached, he hated when Charles was right, which was more often than not. 

“I- I just don’t want to see her hurt.” Arthur said after a moment. Charles sighed, looking down at the wooden floor.

“I don’t either.” He said, walking over to stand in front of Arthur. He reached down, grasping his shoulder. “But we can’t keep her here if she wants to leave.” Arthur kept his eyes low, his hand coming up to cover Charles’. He ran his thumb over the back of his hand, seeking comfort in the subtle motion. 

“And what if she wants to stay?” He asked, his voice tight. “We just pretend we ain’t… we ain’t the way we are?” He squeezed Charles' hand. 

“I won’t live like that.” Charles said, shaking his head, “I’m not ashamed.” Arthur’s stomach clenched, partly in affection and partly in dread.  Arthur got up, walking past Charles. He stood in front of the fireplace, crossing his arms as he stared down into the flames. A whirlwind of emotions rushing through him. 

“Do you love her?” It sounded more like a statement than a question as Arthur whirled around to stare at Charles. His jaw dropped along with his stomach as a scoff left his lips. 

“Damn it, I love you Charles.” He growled, taking a step closer to the man. His hand wrapped around the back of Charles’ neck as he pulled him close. “You.” He reiterated, squeezing his neck gently.

“You didn’t answer my question.” Charles said, his dark eyes almost obsidian as he stared into Arthur’s. “Do you love her?” His voice was level and deep, no hint of anger or jealousy. Arthur sighed, pressing his forehead against his. He knew no matter what he said, no matter how hard he lied, Charles would see right through his bullshit.

Charles nodded, his hand squeezing Arthur’s waist. “You love me and you love her?” Again, phrasing a damn question like some statement.

“You know I do.” Arthur huffed, his tense stance deflating as the truth was revealed. A moment of silence passed between them before Charles let out a soft laugh. 

“You’re not alone, partner.” Charles said, a smile tugging at the corner of his lip. Arthur furrowed his brows, his eyes flitting across Charles' face. Taking in his spreading grin. 

“You’re kidding?” Arthur asked, tilting his head slightly. Still not fully believing him. Charles shook his head, grinning at Arthur. Arthur pulled him forward, crashing his lips against his. 

“You think we still got time before she wakes?” Arthur asked breathlessly, threading his fingers through the hair at the nape of Charles’ neck.

“You think you can be quiet?” Charles chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Can you, big boy?” Arthur smirked, his cock twitching in his pants. Charles pulled him forwards, the two of them walking back into their bedroom. Arthur closed the door behind him with his foot, tugging his shirt over his head. Charles followed suit, unbuttoning his pants before stepping out of them. Arthur moved forward, gripping the hem of Charles’ shirt as he pulled it upwards. As soon as Charles’ skin was bared, Arthur wasted little time to cover him in open mouthed kisses. His hand reached into his thin trousers, pulling him out. Charles felt a shiver run up his spine as Arthur smeared pre-cum over his head. Stroking him until his dick rested against his stomach, thick and heavy. 

A wolfish grin took over Arthur’s expression as he pushed him to lay back on the bed. He grabbed himself through his pants, squeezing his cock as he tried to give himself some relief. Before he settled between Charles’ thighs. He ran his hands up the strong trunks. His thumb rubbing against the lightning strike stretch marks along his hips.

“Ever tell you how damn handsome you are?” Arthur asked reverently, his mouth nearly watering as he looked up at Charles. 

“Most days.” Charles chuckled breathlessly, his pupils blown wide as he looked down at Arthur. He chuckled along, his breath ghosting against Charles' shaft. “Stop teasing.” He huffed, fidgeting under Arthur’s gaze.

“Don’t think you’re in a condition to make any demands there, Mr. Smith.” Arthur said, wrapping his hand around him, squeezing him at his base. Charles sucked in a breath, his eyes fluttering shut. 

“C’mon Arthur.” Charles pleaded softly.

“I gotchu sweetheart.” He cooed as he began to stroke him. Lubricating his hand with the precum that dribbled out of Charles’ tip. Normally Arthur would prolong each moment shared between the two of them. Back at camp, it was always quick exchanges if they got the chance. At first it had been exhilarating, sneaking around under the cover of darkness or the thick trees. The only time he would really get to take his time is if they paid for a room at a hotel, which never happened. Their hands covering their mouths, muffling their moans and spewed curses. It got old quick, always within grasp of each other but unable to act on their urges. After Arthur’s diagnosis, they wanted each moment together to last a lifetime. Not knowing how much time he had left until Arthur’s lungs failed him. They got lucky, little by little he got better. But that didn’t mean they didn’t like to take their time. 

Arthur loved pulling the sweetest whimpers from Charles' lips. The way his brow would furrow, his plump lips parting as he grabbed at Arthur. Whether his hands grasped his hair or his ass, they always pulled him closer. 

But they didn’t have time for that now, he just wanted to make Charles cum. Hell he didn’t even care if he got off, he could live with the ache for a while. He wrapped his lips around his head, fondling Charles’ balls as he relaxed his jaw. Charles was by no means a small man. Charles grunted, his hand flying to Arthur’s shoulder, steadying himself as he tried not to blow his load too soon. 

“Fuck Arthur-“ He hissed, gritting his teeth as he strained his head upwards. Arthur hummed around him, hollowing his cheeks as he took more of him in his mouth. Enjoying the salty taste of him on his tongue. Charles was hanging on for dear life, it had been too long, and he was too pent up. The slightest touch from Arthur would have sent him over the edge. Not to mention how perfectly his lips were wrapped around his cock, his blue eyes meeting Charles’. 

“I’m not- shit- I’m not gonna last.” He breathed, deep and ragged as he dug his dull nails into Arthur’s shoulder. Leaving crescent shaped marks in his skin. Arthur braced himself, holding onto Charles’ thighs as he slid down further on his length until his nose was pressed up against his dark pubic hair. Then the bastard swallowed around Charles and he was gone. His body seizing up as he painted the inside of Arthur’s mouth with his seed. He bit down on his hand, trying to muffle the moan that threatened to escape his lips. His eyes rolled back into his head as Arthur drank down everything he had to give him. Spent and boneless, Charles laid back against the bed. Arthur chuckled, pulling off him and wiping the corners of his mouth before climbing onto the bed beside him. 

Chatles rolled onto his side to face Arthur, a blissed out smile on his lips. 

“What?” Arthur asked, his own smile spreading on his lips. 

“You’re sure I’m the only man you’ve ever been with?” Charles asked, a shit eating grin tugging at his lips.

“Shut up.” Arthur huffed, rolling his eyes as he playfully shoved Charles. “C’mere.” He said, pulling him back towards in and into his arms. 

They weren’t planning on falling back asleep, but the post sex bliss drug Charles under and Arthur wasn’t far behind him. They woke maybe an hour later, Charles couldn't exactly tell as he rubbed his eyes. Pulling himself out of Arthur’s embrace, he shook him awake before getting dressed again.

“Surprised the cows haven’t broken out of the barn yet, you’re never this late getting them fed.” Arthur chuckled, shaking his head as he threw his shirt back on. 

“Well, I haven’t gone out there yet, maybe they did break out.” He grinned looking over at Arthur.

“At least we got the girl this time. Maybe she’d be the one looking instead of the one being found.” Arthur said as he finished buttoning up his shirt. He pulled Charles towards him, his and wrapping around his waist as he pressed his lips to his. “Just one more.” He said softly, his other hand cupping Charles’ face. His thumb running over the jagged scar on his cheek. 

Charles smiled, leaning into his hand before they begrudgingly separated. Arthur walked out first, as to not draw suspicion if she was already out in the main room. They hadn’t heard her get up yet, but just in case. Charles waited a few minutes before he walked out of the bedroom. Arthur was feeding the fire, placing a few logs on top of the burning embers. Charles headed over to the coat rack, reaching for his coat when he noticed that Arthur’s blue coat was missing. He furrowed his brows as he continued to put on his gear, lacing up his boots. Your boots were gone, too.

“Think she got an early start.” Charles called to Arthur, “Probably out there with Taima already.” He said, shaking his head. 

“She’s really taken to her.” Arthur hummed looking up at him, “Be careful for Taima’ll like her more than you soon.”

“Think she might already.” He chuckled, “She didn’t warm up to me that quickly. I had to work for it.” He put his hat on, stepping outside. The cold nipped at his face, the wind had begun to pick up. Charles saw your boot prints down the porch, but as he followed them he noticed they didn’t lead to the barn. They lead to the south. They led to where Charles believed your fathers house was, where your home was. His stomach dropped like a rock, his mouth running dry as he turned back towards the cabin.

He flung the door open, not bothering to take off his boots as he ran to your room. You weren’t there. You hadn’t taken anything, leaving all the clothes you had been given tucked away in the trunk. 

Charles could hardly breathe.

“Charles, what the hell is going on!” Arthur asked, panic laced in his tone.

“She’s gone.”

-

You’d never been much of an early riser. Today however, something had pulled you from your sleep. Although it wasn’t the best night of sleep anyway. You had tossed and turned, your subconscious playing tricks on you as Charles and Arthur invaded your dreams. 

You rubbed your eyes, putting on your trousers and buttoning up your shirt. Perhaps you’d tailor a few of the shirts Arthur gave you after your lessons. You left your room, your brows furrowed as you looked around for Arthur. It wasn’t like him to sleep in late, and Charles’ hat and coat were still hanging by the door. The animals would need to be tended to soon, and he would never let them go hungry.

Arthur must have gone to bed late last night, after… after sketching you. Your heart fluttered at the memory, his large hands resting on his open journal. 

You shook your head, clearing the image from your mind. Well, no matter, you would go wake them up yourself. You walked over to the closed door, your ears perking up as you heard rustling from inside. You raised your fist to knock when you heard an unmistakable moan.

You froze, your hand inches from the door. You couldn’t have moved if you wanted to. No matter how loud the voice in your head screamed at you to get away, your feet were firmly planted. 

Maybe you had just heard wrong, maybe it was a groan or an innocent sound made while sleeping. 

“I’m not- shit- I’m not gonna last.” The voice was muffled, but it was Charles. You gulped, your stomach dropping into your feet as you quietly reeled back from the door. Your hand reaching for purchase on the table as the life you had imagined crumbled around you. 

They didn’t have feelings for you. They had feelings for each other. 

You swallowed thickly, your mouth going dry as the pit in your stomach grew. God, you were a fool. How could you have not seen the signs? The lack of items in Charles ‘room’, the unspoken words that passed between them. You had been intruding on them this whole time. 

You wiped your nose off on your sleeve, tears stinging your eyes as you rushed back to your room. You wouldn’t force yourself in their space anymore. You had burdened them long enough. You tore off Arthur’s clothes, putting your blouse and skirt on. Charles said the cabin was a mile north of where he had found you those few weeks ago. Had it only been a couple of weeks? It felt like you had spent a lifetime with the two men, you wanted to spend your lifetime with them.

Enough of that, you wiped away the tears that rolled down your cheeks. They were foolish dreams to begin with. You couldn’t have one without losing the other, and you wouldn’t have done that. If only you had known neither of their hearts were available. The love that you harbored for the two men was wasted.

You were afraid to go out of your room, afraid you’d have to face them one last time. Luckily they were still in their room when you finally worked up the courage. The only other time you had laced up your boots so quickly was when you had left home. You opened the door, wincing as the wind blew into your face. You couldn’t go out there in just your skirt and blouse. You hesitated by the coat rack, your hand resting on Arthur’s coat. 

Perhaps some day you’d find a way to return it, although you knew that was wishful thinking. You threw the coat on, blinking away tears as you surrounded yourself with Arthur’s scent. Your hands lingered on Charles’ coat, and before you could stop yourself you brought the fabric to your nose. Inhaling his scent for the last time. You tried to commit it to memory, knowing you’d recall the smell when you were alone. Swallowing past the lump in your throat you took one last glance around the cabin. Your heart clenched in your chest as you pushed the door open. The cold wind hit you, cutting against your face like tiny blades. You held your hand up, shielding your face as you walked down the steps. Your feet sinking into the snow, the white powder rising above the tops of your boots. A shiver ran down your spine as you pushed forward, trying to ignore the coldness that seeped into your body. You looked over at the barn, considering for a moment if you should take one of the horses. You shook your head, knowing you are nowhere near close to riding on your own. Especially not in the snow like this, without Charles. Not to mention there would be no way to return Taima or Buell once you reached your father’s house. If you were thrown, you doubted they would know how to return home. You didn’t need another death hanging over your head, one was enough.

Your hands started to cramp, matching the freezing temperatures as you forged forward. You stole a glance over your shoulder, knowing you shouldn’t have. The cabin was still in your line of view, a beacon that called you back, called you home.

Your eyes began to water, you wished you could have blamed it on the cold but you knew that wasn’t true. You wiped away the moisture in your eyes, turning away from the log cabin and returning to your trek.

-

“How far do you think she made it?” Arthur asked, shoving his fingers into his gloves before putting on Charles’ coat.

”Hopefully the mile back to her father’s,” Charles huffed, pushing his arms through one of their shared coats. It didn’t offer the best heat, but he’d be damned if he had to think about you and Arthur facing the elements. “Tracks seemed fresh, she left this morning, not last night.” Thank god you hadn’t been so foolish as to leave under the cover of darkness. If you had got lost out there… he didn’t want to think about it.

“Damnit, why’d she go?” Arthur huffed, his voice tight and pained.

“I don’t know.” He said, shaking his head as he put his hat on. “Let’s just hope we find her.” The two men left the cabin, racing to the barn. It didn’t take them long to get the horses ready, their hooves plowing through the snow as they followed your trail.

-

You urged your numb feet forward, puffs of hot air leaving your lips as your father’s house came into view. Your hands itched as you tried to move your fingers. Climbing the stairs on shaky legs, you realized in your hurry that night you had left the door open. Snow covered the inside of the house, blanketing the furniture. Your stomach churned the further you ventured into the house. You stopped short as your eyes landed on your father’s body. You clamped your jaws shut, muffling the strangled groan that threatened to leave your lips. You turned away, moving as quickly as you could to the fireplace. Your traitorous hands stung like hell as you grabbed one of the logs. Tossing it into the fireplace you stumbled to your feet, searching for a box of matches. You breathed hot air onto your fingers, hoping to coax some movement back in them.

You struck the match against the side of the box three times before a flame burst forth. You tossed the stick onto the log, sinking to your knees as you watched the fire grow.

Tears rolled down your cheeks as feeling returned to your hands and feet. You hung your head, your body wracked with sobs. Everything that had been building for the last month came to a head. You got to your feet, rising with a newfound purpose as you walked towards your father’s carcass. Swiping the box of matches off the side table, you light one. Standing over his body, you dropped the match, watching as it fell and caught against the wooden floor. 

It doesn’t spread as fast as you’d like it to, so you light another, dropping it onto the kitchen table. Smoke starts to fill your lungs, stinging your eyes and throat as you light off every single remaining match. You cough and spit as you move backwards, into your room. Laying down on your bed, pulling Arthur’s coat tighter around your body as you try to recall Charles’ scent or his smile. 

-

They’re lucky, the tracks are deep and nothing has come by to cover them. Arthur’s breath has gone ragged, another thing for Charles to worry about as they urge the horses faster. 

“There!” Arthur yelled, cutting himself off with a dry cough. Black smoke rises in the distance,  too much and too dark for a simple chimney fire. 

“Shit.” Charles mumbled, cracking the reins as he barreled forward. Arthur followed, a resounding ‘hyah’ leaving his lips as they flew across the frozen landscape. 

Charles' heart dropped as he pulled up short, Arthur stopped next to him as both their eyes landed on the scene ahead of them. 

Thick, black smoke billowed up into the air, as bright orange flames began to engulf the house. Arthur jumped off Buell, calling your name as he rushed towards the house. Charles followed him, grabbing his arm as he pulled him back from the burning house. 

“The hell are you doing?” He yelled over the crackling of the fire.

“You’re staying here!” Charles yelled, pushing him backwards.

“I can help damnit!” He growled, fighting back a dry cough.

“I can’t lose both of you!” Charles huffed, grabbing the lapels of Arthur’s coat. The two shared a heated glare, only to break apart at the sickening sound of part of the roof caved in.

“Go! Go get our girl!” Arthur yelled, pushing Charles off of him. Charles ran up the steps, rushing into the house. A body caught his eye, he almost crumpled right then and there. He rubbed his eyes, stumbling over to the body. He swallowed thickly, wetting his dry throat as his eyes landed on the man.

Your father, a hole in his chest. The fire hadn’t killed him, you had. Served him right.

He turned away from the corpse, his voice raw as he yelled for you. He burst through one of the doors, his eyes landing on you. Curled up in bed, wrapped in Arthur’s blue coat. His heart was in his throat as he moved forward, smoke strangling him as he pulled you into his arms. 

Arthur stood unmoving as he watched in horror as the house crumbled. Yelling for both you and Charles. Breath returned to his lungs as Charles walked out of the door, your tiny frame in his arms.

“Is she alive?” He asked, catching Charles as he stumbled forward. They both dropped to their knees, brushing the soot from your hair. Charles was unable to stop the ragged cough that wracked through his body. Spittle built up in the corner on his lips as he braced himself on the cold ground.

Arthur ripped off his gloves, shoving them onto your cold hands as he leaned over you. His ear over your heart, praying to anyone listening that he’d hear the rhythmic thumping. Your chest refused to rise, he grit his teeth so hard his jaw ached as he parted your lips. Breathing air into your mouth. His chest burned, the sharp ache returning in full force. Charles pulled him off of you, taking over for him.

“Please, please darlin’ breathe.” Arthur mumbled, grabbing your gloved hand.

Your eyes snapped open, gasping for air as Charles pulled back.

“Oh, thank god.” Arthur let out a ragged relieved breath, not noticing the biting cold seeping through his pants as he sat back in the snow. Charles held the back of your neck, supporting you as you coughed and sputtered.

“Get the horses.” Charles muttered, wiping away the spittle at the corner of your mouth. Everything felt so hazy, like you were looking through the smoke that had filled your former home. You watched as Arthur brought the horses over, taking Arthur's hand as he helped you get on Taima’s back. You wrapped your arms around Charles, hanging onto him.

“Tighten your grip.” He huffed, grabbing your arm and pulling it closer around him. Arthur’s brows furrowed as he glanced back at the two of you one more time before getting onto Buell.

The ride back to the cabin had been much too quiet. The tension was almost suffocating, as the only sound came from the horses as they huffed and snorted. Along with Arthur’s badly hidden coughs. Charles was stiff as a board in front of you as your head rested between his shoulder blades.

You wondered if you'd ever get the stench of smoke out of your hair, your clothes. Well- Arthur’s clothes- his beautiful blue coat now dusted with soot. 

You still didn’t understand why they had gone after you. They were happy before you came along, you were an inconvenience, a pest. 

Perhaps it would have been better if Charles had never found you out in the snow. If you had died along with Father. Now you owe Charles two life debts. 

Charles and Arthur had pulled the horses up to the front of the cabin. 

“Help her inside, I’ll put the horses away.” Charles said, his tone indicating there would be no arguing with him. Arthur nodded, swinging his legs over Buell. He passed the reins over to Charles before holding his arms up for you. You held onto his shoulders as his hands landed on your waist, gently pulling you off of Taima’s rump and down beside him in the snow. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his chest as the two of you walked into the house.

Arthur helped you take off his coat. You wondered if it would ever be that bright blue again, or if the dark black stains would forever be sewn into the fabric. 

That dull cough broke through the silence as Arthur shuddered, holding onto the table as he tried to catch his breath. Your heart clenched painfully at the noise, guilting eating you up inside. As soon as he caught his breath, Arthur moved to the fireplace, striking a match as he started to get the fire going. You sat down in one of the chairs, taking off Arthur’s gloves and laying them down on the table. At least you had returned them to their rightful owner now. 

The fire started to crackle, slowly growing in the fireplace. You stared into the flames, playing the events of the day over again in your head. Seeing Father again, striking match after match, feeling the heat through your bedroom door. The thick, smoky air and how it seemed to weigh heavily on you. Making it harder and harder to breathe, until everything went dark. 

“C’mere.” Arthur said, pulling you out of your thoughts as he beckoned you over to the fireplace.

You warmed your body by the fire, your hands burning at the sudden shift in temperature. Your whole body felt as though it was thawing. Arthur walked over to the front door, hanging his-Charles- coat up on the rack. 

The door swung open as Charles stomped inside, slamming the door close behind him. 

“Got the horses situated?” Arthur asked, turning to face him. Charles grunted in response, taking off his coat and gloves. “Should probably bring the tub in,” Arthur added, feigning nonchalance as he very obviously tested the waters. “The both of you will be needing a bath.” Charles leaned against the table, gripping the edge. 

“The hell were you thinking?” His voice came out a low growl as his eyes found yours. You clenched your jaw, shame blooming in your cheek as you lowered your gaze. “You have nothing to say?” He asked with a small scoff. “You could have died! Hell, Arthur ain’t doing much better.” He said, throwing his arm up as he motioned to Arthur. 

“Charles I’m fine-“ Arthur started, before Charles cut him off.

“Don’t.” He warned, fire burning in his dark obsidian eyes. “We were worried sick.” He huffed turning on you.

“I didn’t ask you to come after me.” You whispered, hot frustrated tears pricking your eyes. 

“What?” He asked with a low hiss, his brows furrowed.

“I didn’t ask for any of this. I didn’t ask for you to save me then and I didn’t ask for it now.” You sounded absolutely pathetic, your voice cracking as you spoke. You couldn’t help the tears that broke past your waterline and rolled down your cheeks. You watched as the tension slowly melted off of Arthur’s shoulders. However, Charles wasn’t letting you off so easily.

“You didn’t have to!” He huffed, shaking his head. “God, what was going through your head?” 

“Now let’s all just settle down-“ Arthur cut in, holding his hands up as though trying to calm a spooked animal.

“Why do you care anyway? You have each other, you certainly don’t need me intruding on the two of you!”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Charles huffed, straightening up, his arms crossed over his broad chest. You pursed your lips, looking between the two of them. Charles breathless moans playing over and over in your head.

“I- I heard the two of you.” It was like all the air was suddenly sucked out of the cabin. Both Arthur and Charles froze, the only sound was the crackling fire as you stared at them. 

“H-How much did you hear?” Arthur asked, clearing his throat as he took a step forward. The wooden floor creaked under him as he stood shoulder to shoulder with Charles.

“Enough.” Blood rushed to your cheeks as you looked away from them, that uncomfortable feeling building in your gut. You could hear one of them shift, moving back and forth on each foot. 

“Well, we know your daddy didn’t die of the cold.” Arthur said suddenly. Your head shot up, staring at the two of them with wide eyes. Charles gave Arthur a look, which he ignored. “So what are you gonna do?” He asked, pursing his lips.

“I wasn’t gonna say anything!” You scoffed, shaking your head. Your brows furrowed as you looked from Arthur to Charles. “I don’t- I don’t have a problem with whatever you two do, whoever you are.” You said crossing your arms as you looked down at your feet. 

“We don’t blame you for what you did.” Charles said, holding up his hand. His voice had taken on a much softer tone than before. Glancing over at Arthur before he spoke again, “We just- we won’t say anything if you don’t say anything.” 

“I’m-“ You let out a shaky breath, “I didn’t mean to it just- it just happened.” You whispered, your voice breaking.

“And no one blames you for it, sweetheart.” Arthur said softly, “There’s no doubt that bastard got what he deserved.” 

You sniffled, wiping away the tears that slipped down your cheeks with the back of your hand. 

“We haven’t… we haven’t been fully truthful with you.” Charles said, leaning against the table. Arthur stiffens, looking like a scolded child next to Charles. “Arthur and I… we ran with a gang, it’s how we met.” He admits. “You’ve probably heard of the Van Der Linde gang?” Your eyes widen, so that’s what Arthur meant when he said he had blood on his hands. 

“I was with them for longer than Charles.” Arthur spoke up, taking a step closer. “Since I was fourteen, Dutch and Hosea, they took me in and in return I gave them my blind loyalty.” He spit, shaking his head. “I ain’t a good man. I’ve done a lot of bad things but I’m- I’m trying to be better.”

Suddenly it clicked, like the final piece of a puzzle. You knew where you recognized Arthur from. You and your father had traveled to the United States, a few years back. You had been standing in the train station, looking up at the flyers on the bulletin board. You had seen his wanted poster, his scowling face staring back at you from the paper. 

He looked much more handsome in person. 

“I ain’t much better.” You mumbled, shaking your head. “My father didn’t deserve to die. No one does.”

“Ain’t much better?” Arthur scoffed, “Sweetheart, he deserved what he got, and more.”

“It was self defense.” Charles cut in, “You were only protecting yourself.” 

“It still wasn’t right!” You shook your head, “What am I gonna do now? I don’t- I don’t have anything. Everything’s likely gone, burned up.” You put your head in your hands, “Oh god I’m such a fool.”

“Hey,” Arthur’s voice was soft as he gently pulled your hands away from your face. “You don’t gotta worry about any of that right now, ya hear?” You nodded, sniffling as you looked up into his deep blue eyes. “Charles and I… We’ll be here for you, if you want to stay.” He said hesitantly.

“I-“ you bit your lip, chewing a piece of skin off. “I shouldn’t.” Arthur swallowed thickly, nodding as he pulled away.

“If that’s what you want.” He said, resting his hands on his belt. It wasn’t what you wanted. It was the last thing you wanted. To be alone again, to be without them again. Hell, you probably wouldn’t survive on your own.

“We won’t force you to stay.” Charles said softly, looking down at the table, “But at least stay a couple nights.” He raised his eyes to meet yours. “I’ll- I’ll take you to town in a couple days if you’d like.” He offered.

You knew it was the best decision, stay a few more days and then find something to do once he took you to town. 

“Alright, thank you, I’ll stay for a few days.” You nodded. They both physically relaxed, like they were both hanging on to every word. 

“Alright.” Arthur nodded, clearing his throat as he nodded. “We’ll uh- we’ll get the tub and water going.” 

-

You sat at the table, watching as they melted the snow in a kettle above the fireplace. Pouring each pail of hot water into the tub. They offered you first bath, another kindness on their part. You assumed they would probably share once you were done.

Heat flooded your cheeks at the image you conjured up in your head. Both Charles and Arthur, naked in the warm water. Bathing each other, touching, kissing. 

You cleared your throat, looking back down at the grooves on the wooden table.

Little did you know that Arthur and Charles were trying to come up with a plan. Some way to convince you to stay more than a few nights. Some way to convince you to stay forever. 

“Before Charles there…” Arthur spoke up, his cheeks a deep rose as he looked back at you. “There was Mary. The woman in those pictures you found.” You nodded, swallowing thickly.

“N’ Charles, well he-“

“We fancy either sex.” Charles spoke up, tired of beating around the bush. He met your eyes, his dark obsidian pools boring into yours.

You looked between the two of them.

“I’m sorry I- I don’t understand.” You said furrowing your brows slightly. 

“Darlin’ we-“ Arthur cut himself off with a sigh. Your heart skipping a beat at the petname.

“We want you to stay.” Charles said, finishing Arthur's sentence.

“Now I- I’m real grateful for your hospitality but I-“ You sighed biting your lip, “I don’t wanna intrude-“

“Who said you would be?” Charles asked, pouring the last pail into the tub. Steam gently rising off of its crystal surface. “We want you here.”

You pursed your lips, looking from Charles to Arthur. Your stomach clenched as you saw the pure yearning in both of their eyes. 

No. No you wouldn’t get your hopes up. 

“We want you.” Charles said, his deep voice sending a shiver down your spine.

“What?” You asked, your mouth going dry as the implications set in.

“We want you if- if you want us, too.” Arthur said, looking up at you.

“H-how would that even work?” You asked, knowing this offer was too good to be true. No one ever wanted you. Sure, some boys did, for a roll around in the hay and then they’d never look your way again. 

But Charles and Arthur were nothing like the boys in town. They- they made you feel alive. Not only for two seconds or minutes, it wasn’t some passing fancy. Your blood seemed to sing around them. Like they had breathed life into your very essence. 

“We both… care for you. You care about us, don’t you?” 

“Of course I do.” You answered way too quickly, your heartbeat pounding in your ear. 

The tension was near suffocation as the three of you stood there, staring at each other. 

“Then why not see where this goes?” Charles asked, taking a step towards you. Your heart thudded against your ribcage as you struggled to take in a full breath. You had to be dreaming, or perhaps you had perished in the fire. For there was no feasible way that this was actually happening. 

“Okay.” Your soft reply surprised yourself as much as it surprised them. A small, boyish smile spread across Arthur’s face. A relieved, almost disbelieving huff leaving his lips.

Charles moved towards you, slowly, giving you a chance to move and put distance between the two of you if you wished.

But there was nothing more that you wanted than to touch them. Feel the heat of their bodies against yours, under your fingertips. Your feet were glued to the spot as you stared up at him. He stood only a foot or two in front of you, his hand hesitantly raised to cup your cheek.

Your eyes fluttered close at the feeling of his large, warm hand against your skin. You didn’t care that his hands were calloused and scarred, he held you as though you could fall apart in his grasp. Which you had a feeling you could. He tilted your head upwards, his breath puffing against your cheek as he looked down at you. His gaze flicked from your eyes to your lips. Then slowly leaned down, his lips connecting with yours.

They were much softer than you had imagined. Plump and warm as they moved against yours. His other hand threaded through the hair at the nape of your neck pulling you closer. Your hands rested on his broad chest, feeling the heat and tension beneath his clothes. 

You were so distracted by Charles that you didn’t even notice Arthur come up behind you. He placed a tentative hand on your waist, the other on Charles' arm. Charles pulled away from your lips, hiding a smile as your mouth moved after him. He ducked his head to press hot open mouthed kisses against your neck. Arthur turned your head towards him, brushing his nose against yours. You pulled one hand away from Charles to cup Arthur’s cheek, pulling him closer.

Now that you had had a taste of the men, you couldn’t stop yourself. His beard scratched along your palm as you held him against you. His lips pressed against yours as Charles sucked bruises onto your neck and any other exposed skin he could find. 

You moaned into Arthur’s mouth, unable to control yourself. Not that you wanted to. Yes you knew it was wrong, but then why did it feel so right? 

Is this how Pandora felt moments before opening her box? Did she feel the anticipation building in her veins, the almost electric buzzing in her body?

Arthur pressed his tongue against the seam of your lips, wordlessly asking for entrance. Your lips parted without any hesitation, your own tongue passing into his mouth.

Years ago there had been a boy in town who you had sworn up and down you would marry. You thought no one would ever make you feel like he did, maybe you were right. This feeling building inside your chest, threatening to burst out of you, is a thousand times more powerful than that ever was.

“Water’s getting cold.” Charles mumbled against your neck, nipping at your collarbone. 

You smirked against Arthur’s lips, knowing there was no way in hell it was getting cold. Maybe now it would be tolerable, not scalding as it had been before. 

“Perhaps we should do somethin’ about that Mr. Smith.” Arthur’s deep, raspy voice sent shivers down your spine as he pulled back. Their eyes met and it was like watching a summer storm. The near electric current that passed between them was intoxicating. Arthur grabbed Charles by the back of his neck, pulling him into a harsh kiss. Teeth clashed and it was clear they had been holding back for you. But you didn’t want sweet, you wanted them. 

You pulled away from their hold, their eyes immediately finding you. An almost vulnerability there in their gaze. Although their furrowed brows quickly relaxed as you tugged your skirt down. Arthur made quick work with his shirt, tearing at his clothes like they were burning him. 

Your heart was damn near beating out of your chest as you pulled your shirt off, leaving you only in your shift. You could feel the heat and wetness start to gather between your legs. Your core aching as you watched the men dress down. 

Arthur and Charles were in their union suits, all three of you frozen as though waiting for the other to make the first move. Your eyes were drawn downwards to their cocks, you weren’t ashamed to admit it. Although you wondered how something that big would fit inside you. 

You swallowed thickly, finding your mouth dry at the sight of them. Your eyes passed from Charles to Arthur. Arthur’s hands twitched at his waist, you assumed this was how he looked before a gun fight, albeit more clothed. The anticipation, waiting to see who would draw first. The thought sent heat down to your core, and in some twisted way you wished you could have seen him at his prime. 

Charles' chest heaved with each heavy breath, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he stared you down. His dark brown eyes almost obsidian with how blown wide his pupils were.

They were waiting for you. 

They were waiting for you to make the first move. Even though you could feel the almost primal want radiating from them, they were still holding back. And that made you want them even more.

You grabbed your shift, pulling it over your head, before stepping out of your bloomers. You didn’t have time to worry about whether they would like what they saw as you stepped into the tub. An involuntary sigh left you as you sank into the warm water. Goosebumps erupted on your skin as the heat enveloped you.

“There’s room for two more.” You said looking over at them, honestly questioning if the three of you could actually fit in the tub. Maybe if you sat on one of their laps.

Arthur moved first, shucking his union suit off before striding over to you. His cock sprung up onto his belly, a thatch of curling brown hair at his base. Charles wasn’t far behind him and soon all three of you managed to get in the tub.

You had imagined they would pounce on you as soon as they could, but they didn’t. Instead Charles took to lathering the soap in his hands before handing it to Arthur. As Charles cleaned his toned body, Arthur began to clean you. He gently washed away the soot and ash from your face and hair. Before he started to spread the soap on your body. Once you were clean, Charles took the soap back and began to clean Arthur. It didn't take very long, but he wasn't nearly as filthy as you and Charles. Then Arthur moved to brush through Charles' hair, meticulously working out any knots without tugging on his scalp. Charles motioned for you to turn in the tub, it was a tight fit but you managed. The three of you would clean up the water that sloshed onto the floor once you were finished. 

Charles then ran his fingers through your hair, untangling it. There was nothing sexual about the act even though the three of you were as naked as the day you were born. You were simply serving each other.

Arthur finished cleaning Charles' hair, moving the wet raven curtain off to one side of his shoulder as he kissed up his neck.

Charles hummed, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. You turned to look at the two of them, the fire sparking deep in your belly. You needed them, you needed to have them. 

You moved forward, running your hand down Charles' chest. He grabbed your hand before you could reach his appendage between his legs.

“You gotta work up to that darlin’.” He said breathlessly, “Take Arthur first.”

Charles moved to give you better access to Arthur, you were now squished between the two of them. Arthur’s hands ran down your waist, settling on your hips.

“You’ve done this before?” He asked, his bright eyes finding yours. 

“Not with two men.” You said with a weak chuckle. Arthur cracked a smile, pulling you closer. 

“We’ll be gentle sweetheart.” He promised, “And you tell us if you wanna stop, ya hear?” The teasing glint vanished from his eyes.

You nodded, swallowing thickly as you settled over his hips. “I don’t wanna stop.” Charles moved behind you, his hands palming your tits. You gasped as he pinched one of your nipples.

“Sensitive.” He hummed as Arthur’s hands ran up and down your thighs. Your head was spinning, trying to keep your focus on both of them at the same time. Arthur’s thumb found your clit, rubbing small circles on the bundle of nerves. 

You moaned, your eyes fluttering shut as you twitched. Your body involuntarily jumped with each pass of his calloused thumb.

“Arthur-“ You said breathlessly, feeling the tight coil of pleasure build in your belly.

“I’m here sweetheart, we’re here.” He said softly, thrusting a finger into your core. 

“Oh god.” You moaned, squeezing your eyes shut as you teetered on the edge.

“C’mon, open those pretty eyes for me.” He cooed, smirking up at you. You opened them, tears brimming in your eyes as he added a second finger. “Gotta open you up, get you real nice and ready for me and Charles, ain’t that right?” 

His words and his fingers had you on the edge, Charles managed to push you over as he rolled your nipples between his forefinger and thumb. 

You came with a cry, digging your nails into Arthur’s shoulders as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you. You ground down on his hand, riding out your orgasm.

“Atta girl,” Arthur cooed, pulling his hand out before notching his head at your entrance. Your breath hitched as you felt his head push past your opening. Both of you let out a moan as you slowly sunk down onto him. 

Charles chuckled darkly behind you, his hands settling on your waist. “So pretty,” He mumbled.

“F-fuck Arthur.” You stuttered, biting your lip as you looked down at him. He completely filled you, the hair at the base of his cock rubbing against your clit. You whimpered as he thrusted up into you.

“Shit, sorry.” He said through gritted teeth, it was obvious he was trying to hold back, trying to give you time to adjust to his girth. 

“M’okay.” You said breathlessly, “Move.” You pleaded.

“Give me a minute.” He huffed, his azure pools finding yours.

“Arthur,” You whined, squirming on top of him.

“God, she’s squeezing me so tight.” He growled, his head falling to the valley of your breasts. Charles had decided he had enough, his hands raising your hips off of him before slamming you back down onto Arthur.

“Charles.” Arthur moaned, nipping at the tender flesh of your breast. You felt electric, pleasure shooting through your body with each thrust. Water sloshed over the side of the tub as Charles slammed you down onto Arthur’s cock.

“Oh- oh god!” You whimpered, your toes curling as your mind went blank. Like the crack of a whip, the building pressure inside you broke. You clamped down on Arthur, crying out as your orgasm overtook you. 

“Shit, shit, shit, shit-“ Arthur babbled, his hands replacing Charles as he began to ruthlessly thrust into you. Chasing his own high while you rode yours out. He quickly pulled you off of him, twitching as he spilled his seed into the warm water. A deep rumbling moan leaving his lips, his brows pinched together as he squeezed his eyes shut.

He was gorgeous.

You panted, leaning back against Charles' large frame. Arthur chuckled breathlessly, leaning forward as he chased after you. He cupped your cheek, pressing his lips to yours. You sighed softly into his mouth, feeling Charles against your back.

“Think he’s been mighty patient, don’t you sweetheart?” Arthur asked, barely pulling away from your lips to speak.

“Mmhm.” You nodded, boneless as Arthur moved you on top of Charles.

“Atta girl.” He praised, kissing your temple before laying back on the side of the tub.

“You sure about this?” Charles asked, his dark mocha eyes finding yours. Your head lolled forward and back, a blissed out smile on your lips.

“I want you. Both of you.” You said cupping his cheek, running your thumb over the lightning strike scar there. He groaned, his hands grabbing your butt as he pulled you closer. He rubbed you against his length, your lips parting with each pass of his head. “Charles,” You whined, starting to get overstimulated from the motion. Your body twitching as his head bumped against your clit.

“I got you baby.” He mumbled, reaching down to notch himself at your entrance.

“Fuck-“ You gasped as he began to stretch you open. You were glad they made you take Arthur first. He hummed, the noise coming from deep within his chest, sending shivers down your spine. “Charles-“

“You can take it.” He cooed, running his hands up and down your sides.

You could. You would take it.

You sat down on him fully, the breath nearly knocked out of you.

“It’s big ain’t it sweetheart?” Arthur cooed in your ear, you nodded another whine leaving your lips.

“Shit- you were right about her being so damn tight.” Charles said through gritted teeth. He leaned down, taking one of your nipples into his mouth before he started rocking you up and down.

You knew you sounded pathetic, mewling with each raise of his hips. You couldn’t even say what he was doing was called ‘thrusting’. 

“Ngh- Charles!” You cried, tears brimming in your eyes. Your legs trembled on each side of his thick thighs.

“Go on, let go baby.” He huffed, clenching his jaw. His thumb reached down between your legs, rubbing at your clit. A choked sob leaving your lips as you came. White hot pleasure rushed through your body as you shook on top of him. 

Hands, hands all over you. Petting, caressing, rubbing. 

“That’s our girl.” Arthur cooed in your ear, his warm chest against your back as Charles moved you up and down on him. 

“Our girl.” Charles groaned, his fingers digging into your hips as he thrust up into you with wild abandon. Your head was spinning, staring down at Charles through half lidded eyes. “Oh- oh-“ Charles grit his teeth, pulling you off of him as he came. His dick twitching under the water as a blissed out smile overtook his face. 

The three of you panted, collapsing onto Charles, feeling the wild thumping of his heart under your ear. Arthur ran his hand up and down your spine, his other resting on Charles thigh.

“Think we outta bathe again.” He chuckled, grinning at the two of you. Charles laughed breathlessly, pressing his lips against your temple. He reached for Arthur, grabbing the hair at the nape of his neck as he pulled into a searing kiss.

-

Somehow the three of you made your way into bed. Resting naked under the flannel sheets as you mapped out their bodies.

You and Charles rested your heads against Arthur’s chest, trailing your hand up and down his chest. Threading your fingers through the hair that trailed down his belly. 

“You… you really want me to stay?” You asked, looking up at the two of them. Arthur scoffed, raising his head to meet your eyes.

“Did we not prove that to you in the tub?” He asked, raising a brow. Charles chuckled, a smile spreading across his lips.

“Sweetheart,” He said softly, cupping your cheek, “we want you to stay.” You smiled, hiding your face in Arthur’s chest. A small chuckle escaped Arthur as he wrapped his arms around the two of you.

“You’re our girl, course we want you to stay.”

As the three of you laid in post-sex bliss, only one thought filled your head. You had found your home, and it wasn’t a place, it was wherever they were. 

[nonexistence1199]

Bungou Stray Dogs headcanons!

Author's note: Late christmas gift for y'all;) My apology for making you wait, my family visited me last night sooooo... yeah, that's it...

Hope you enjoy!

Characters: Dazai, Fyodor, Chuuya, Ranpo, Poe

Dazai Osamu

The most chaotic (also the sweetest) holiday you've ever get, that's for sure

This bastard will make you join the ADA's Christmas party, but if you're not comfortable, then he'll just sneak out with you to go to whatever place you want

Confessing his feelings under the christmas tree, awwww <3

Have a feeling that he won't invite anyone to commit double suicide with him in this day

"Better not let God get angry with me. It would be a shame if He didn't let me die later just because of some bad Christmas prank, don't you agree Belladonna?"

Cuddles cuddles cuddles🥰

Go annoy Chuuya in front of you

"You see? He'll need to improve his height and his awful taste in fashion if he wants to go on a date with someone as gorgeous as yo-"

"SHUT UP MACKEREL!!"

You would likely receive something like a hand-written poem along with a little gift depends on your hobbies

"Ermmmm..... I-I hope you like it, Belladonna.."

"Mhm, of course, love"

Chill guy on the outside, fluster as hell on the inside

He'll stick around you until the next morning (obviously, because he's Dazai)

Fyodor Dostoyevsky

Okay so let's pretend that he had a lover....

Go to church with your hand in his

Rarely show his emotions, but who cares?

The type of person to internally scream when he caught a glimpse of your smile

"God she's such a fragile little thing... makes me want to keep her innocence all to myself"

Prays to God that you'll stay with him whatever it takes

Listening to Tchaikovsky at home (I love Tchaikovky's music sm😇)

He'll make sure to kick Nikolai out of his way, just to have more private time with you

You guys would play a duet with each other, in the candle-lit living room (in case you know how to play piano or whatever instruments that get along with cello)

Easily figure out what you like and gifted it to you (he's too smart to miss out your sparkling eyes when you see something you love lol)

Maybe he'll even skip work to spend time with you

"Is it okay, Fedya...?"

"Don't worry, мой дорогой. There is no harm in getting off from work for a while to give you the attention you deserves, don't you think?"

Nakahara Chuuya

Top quality five-star restaurant, not too crowded but not too secluded

Your role in this expensive date? Point out whatever you want, and you'll have it in a second.

Bonus point if his darling is also alcoholic (But he won't let you drink too much. He wouldn't want you damaging your own health, afterall)

"Your total payment was 12,365.04000 yen, sir."

"What? That's not enough. Anything else you wanna buy, darling?"

Hold the door open for you, carry all your shopping bags, wrapping his arm around your waist and held you close because he's such a gentleman oh my god🤭🤭

Turn his cautious mode on when he see a certain bandaged brunette

"Stay away from me and my precious darling, or else I'll explode your damn apartment"

Kick Dazai's ass if he dares to approach you

"Are you fine, darling? Did he do anything to you? Tell me, and I'll kill him right away-"

"No, don't worry Chuu, he didn't do anything"

For a quick sum up: A fancy date with Mr. Fancy hat

Edgar Allan Poe

Travelling in his special novel for Christmas? He would have prepared it for a long time now. Afterall, he's literally simping his lover

Celebrate Christmas in his home, cuddles and he'll whisper all the lovely words in your ear

"I love you, love"

"Aww, me too"

"Will you stay with me? For the rest of my life?"

"I will"

Nothing is better than his flustered face after hearing your response<33

I have a feeling that he would give you some kind of handmade gifts (of course, he do it himself)

He would prefer staying at home with you, but if you want, he'd gladly take you to the place to want to go

Dancing in the living room

Super clingy guy who would cling to you (may even get jelous when Karl stays in your lap for too long...)

Edogawa Ranpo

Prepare to see your wallet getting lighter and lighter in Christmas day...

Drag you to his favorite candy shop (don't worry, you may get bankrupt the next day)

"Only one more candy bag, pretty pleaseeeeeeeee?"

"Pfft, no"

Eating snacks while while watching some movies with you

Childlike behaviors

He would even share his snacks with you... suprise😉?

Shamelessly cling onto you and would whine like a child if you leave him for a second

"Am I your human pillow or what?"

"Yes you are, dummy"

[neiptune]

One serving of christmas pudding please🤍

Kyoiuro Rengoku + Hashira!wife + "stop trying to get me under the mistletoe!"

Thinking of him finally getting back up and cheerful after all the things he endured after Mugen train and what better way than to mess with the little wifey🤭

kyojuro rengoku x stop trying to get me under the mistletoe!

“Kyo, let me do that”, you promptly take the tinsel from his hands and toss him a smile before heading toward the fireplace. He frowns.

“But I want to help”.

“You can help by resting”, the playful quip makes him pout slightly.

He knows you’re trying to take care of him, have been doing so ever since he miraculously made it back from his last mission. Shinobu didn’t have to tell him about all the sleepless nights you spent by his side while he was knocked out for almost a month, barely strong enough to open his eyes again.

Sure enough, you were there, so tired and the most scared he’s ever seen you. Despite your sweet face being the last thing he evoked in his mind right before blacking out, seeing it again filled his lungs with relief and eyes with scorching tears.

Kyojuro is aware he brought back a different version of himself, much more vulnerable, prone to nightmares and quiet moments where his mind wanders off to places not even you can reach. But he is better now: with your help and the kindness of his friends, his family, he is better. Whatever will ever take to convince you of that, still tiptoeing around him as if he’s glass that will shatter with a gust of wind.

You’re scared, there’s a paralyzing terror clutching your limbs in an iron grip not even all your years spent as a hashira can help you escape. It’s the closest you’ve ever been to life without him. You can’t forget how it felt, all his years as the flame pillar shrinking in the presence of your terror. Of your resolve. You can’t risk that again. And if it means looking after him forever, putting the love of your life before your job, demons be damned, by gods you will do it. It’s the one thing you’ll allow yourself to be selfish with.

“You know. You still haven’t told me what my gift is”, Kyojuro carefully wraps his arms around you and gently pulls you into his chest, warm and solid against your back. You melt into him, close your eyes to enjoy the domesticity that the quiet moment holds before one of his gifts, Shinjuru and Senjuro coming to stay over for the holidays as a surprise, walks through the door.

“It’s… one serving of miso soup and sweet potatoes”. He hums, lips grazing your ear as he starts swaying gently.

“That’s not true. Don’t lie to your husband”.

“Accusing your wife of such shameful offence”, you grin, “how outrageous!”.

Kyojuro smiles too as he kisses a spot under your jaw, teeth later grazing the tender skin.

“I’ll tell you what’s outrageous”, with a swift movement and a yelp on your side, he suddenly turns you into his embrace, eyes glinting with mischief, “you haven’t kissed me yet”. He picks you up with ease and you cling to him like a koala bear as Kyojuro starts walking backwards, toward a foreign destination. When you catch a glimpse of the sprig of mistletoe, you push back against his chest.

“Kyojuro, no!”.

“No?”, he tilts his head, feigning indignation, “I thought you loved me”.

“I do!”.

“I thought you were the proudest wife… married to such a handsome exponent of the Rengoku family…”.

“I am!”, you cry out, “you are! Just-”

Kyojuro balances you against his chest with a small hop and a telltale grin.

“I thought you’d be happy to prove all the aforementioned affection…”.

“Rengoku Kyojuro”, you arch your back in another attempt at breaking free of his embrace, “stop trying to get me under the mistletoe!”

“I’m afraid I can’t. It’s my favorite tradition”.

“Put me down, you’re still recovering! Besides, you have to wait until christm-”

“No can do”, he brings one of his hands to rest on your back and pulls you in once more, “and I’m fine. I feel good. I just want my wife to kiss me”.

With a sigh, you deflate against him and finally wrap your arms around his neck. You sense a real effort on his side, underneath all the warm playfulness: Kyojuro is really trying to reassure you, a silent plea to let him be himself again. He’s not made of glass.

He sees it in your eyes right away, the comprehension slowly making its way within them.

“I’m fine”, he repeats it softly. You exhale a shaky breath, fingers gently tangling in his hair. He looks especially good like this, in a simple beige sweater and brown cardigan, when he gets to be your husband and nothing else. Sometimes you wish he was a civilian, someone you could protect.

“I know”, you whisper back and lean forward to press a light kiss to his hooded eye. You still remember his relief upon realizing he could still see, happy because he wouldn’t have to halve the sight of you.

“So”, Kyojuro’s gaze never leaves yours as he reaches up to take the green sprig between his fingers and hold it above your heads, “will my wife kiss me?”.

Your exasperation is coated in tenderness.

“She will”.

thank you for trusting my writing and for drawing this BEAUTIFUL perfect header, hope you enjoy! happy holidays mwah

[vampirekiramman]

HER TREMBLING HANDS | violyn

synopsis: ever since the day vi’s sister died, her hands haven’t stopped shaking. the only thing that can steady her nerves is caitlyn. so, when she can’t stop shaking, she asks cait to hold her— and she does. of course, she does.

details: ptsd!vi x caitlyn | post-s2e9 | hurt/comfort, angst, and a little bit of fluff

content warning(s): trauma, mentions of death

word count: 1.2k words

It started with a noise, as it often did. Vi couldn’t remember exactly what caused it. Maybe she had knocked over a vase, or dropped a plate. It didn’t matter. Whatever it was, it hit the ground with a thud and the sound of glass shattering into a million little pieces, and that was all it took.

She felt it coming on slow after the initial shock. She bent down with a broom— Where did she get a broom?— and started sweeping the broken glass into a dustpan. Her palms had started to sweat, making it difficult to get a good grip on the wooden shaft of the broom. Her fingers kept slipping down, no matter how many times she let go and grasped it again, firmer each time. Her hands started to shake, the bits of glass she had managed to sweep into the dustpan falling back onto the floor with every tremor.

She closed her eyes and cursed, “Damn.” It was hard to force the word out of her throat. Her breath had started quickening, her chest tightening and a lump forming in her chest. She squeezed her eyes tighter and dropped the broom, clutching her chest. As it clamored to the ground with a series of bangs, that was the moment it hit her.

‘Vi, you can’t save him.’

She knew it to be true. Still, she lifted Vander’s face into the palm of her hand one last time, and sobbed.

‘Vi!’

Her sister’s scream cut across the room like a gunshot, louder in her ears, even, than the sound of Vander’s roars. He pounded on the metal platform beneath her. Boom, boom, boom. She stared up at him, bracing herself for what comes next. It never came.

There she was: Jinx, protecting Vi like how Vi had protected her their whole lives. Vi grabbed her hand as she careened off the edge of the platform, holding her like she was water slipping through her fingers. That’s what she had been the whole time, wasn’t it?

The platform creaked and groaned, Vander’s viscous growls echoing off the walls from beneath them. She felt the metal slipping, the bolts coming loose. Still, she held on.

‘Always with you, sis.’

For a moment, she swore it was Powder’s voice she heard. And then she was gone.

Vi fell to her knees and heaved. She knew she couldn’t have saved Vander. She knew that, but she just had to go to him, anyways, didn’t she? Jinx was right. She couldn’t save him. But maybe she could have saved her.

A guttural scream escaped from her then, coming from somewhere deep inside of her that she had locked away long ago. She rolled onto her back, just like she did that day, and sobbed, echoes of the sound bouncing off the walls around her.

“Vi,” a voice called— Was it Jinx? Was she finally here, ready to take Vi with her?—, then spoke, softly and closer to her ear, “Are you okay, Violet?”

There was only one person left alive that called her that. She opened her eyes and, through the sting of tears, saw Caitlyn crouched over her.

“No. No, no, no. She’s gone, Cait,” she choked out.

“I know,” Caitlyn whispered, sitting down beside her, “I know. Can you sit up? You’re laying in broken glass.”

She pulled herself off the ground and turned her head over her shoulder, shards of glass that had been crushed into tiny bits under her weight and little drops of blood covering the floor. She felt Caitlyn’s hand hovering over her back for a moment. She gave her a nod, and she felt her brushing the glass that had stuck to her body off of her with her fingertips.

Caitlyn put her arm around her shoulder, leaning on her shoulder. “It’s okay. It’s over now. You’re here,” she murmured into Vi’s skin.

“I’m here,” Vi repeated, trying to force herself to believe the words.

She listened to the slow inhale and exhale of Caitlyn’s breathing beside her. She let her eyes bounce off of the walls of the home in Piltover she now shared with her. Framed and hung up were paintings Ekko had made of them all— Vander, Mylo, Claggor, and Powder. Even one of Jinx. She took a deep breath and inhaled the scent of Caitlyn’s perfume. She smelled like cherry blossoms and warm vanilla.

Slowly, she looked down at her hands, turning them over once, then twice, taking note of how her wrists creaked and her fingers trembled.

“I don’t know what happened,” she said, finally. Caitlyn perked her head up to listen. “One minute, I’m cleaning up, and the next I’m back there. I can’t even sweep anymore. My hands- Look. Look at them. I can’t even hold a broom.”

She lifted both of her shaky hands up at the same time and let out a breathy laugh that served only to mask a broken sob. Caitlyn inched closer to her and took Vi’s hands into hers, kissing every knuckle, soft and chaste.

“Then let me doing the cleaning for a while. You can’t be expected to recover from something like that so soon,” she said.

Vi started to shake her head and opened her mouth to argue, to tell her that she didn’t have to do that, and that she should be over it by now.

Before she could get a word out, though, Caitlyn said, “Sometimes, I can still see my mother in her casket, right before we buried her. I’ll see something that reminds me of her and, instead of thinking of all the good times I had with her when she was still here, that’s the only thing I can seem to remember. It’s awful, to live without them. But we have to keep living for them.”

All Vi could focus on was how beautiful Caitlyn was in that moment, not because of how she looked, but because how she saw Vi, really saw her. Whenever she had racked her mind for memories of Powder, in the days before Jinx had ever been created, she always circled back to that final moment. Not the one where she died, but the one where she wished she had. Sobbing on the ground, screaming for her, all while Vi was getting dragged away by an enforcer. The look on her little round face when she had said those words to her. You’re a jinx. Seven years she had spent away from her—, seven years she could never get back—, and when she finally reunited with her, she slipped away from her again before she could even say goodbye.

She knew Jinx would’ve wanted her to keep living without her. She hoped that Powder would’ve wanted that, too.

She didn’t realize how tightly she was squeezing Caitlyn’s hand until she looked down and saw her knuckles turning white. Caitlyn’s fingers were bright red and undoubtedly aching under Vi’s grip, but she didn’t let go. They were alike in that way. They never let go of anything, or anyone.

Vi leaned in for a slow, gentle kiss, softening her grip but still holding Caitlyn’s hands. When she pulled away, she smiled softly and said, “Look. They stopped shaking.”

“Maybe you can hand me that broom and help me clean this mess up, then,” she laughed.

“Only if you’re the one doing the cleaning,” she bit back, tossing the broom into Caitlyn’s hands with a wink, “Cupcake.”

[tldix]

american money

chapter 1: a ghost in the house.

summary: bobby singer was a lot of things, but no one expected him to be a father. after his wife passed he finds himself raising his little girl alone. Y/n Singer. the day the Winchesters show up unexpectedly, is the day things change forever.

warnings: (character death mentioned, Karen bobby’s wife), no smut, yearning, story starts as you & dean are children, alcohol & tobacco use. (i’m sure there’s more just lmk)

the Singer Salvage yard sat on the edge of Sioux falls, a spiraling maze of rusted cars, forgotten engines, & the occasional stray cat. it was the kind of place most locals avoided unless they needed a specific part that they could only come to Bobby Singer for. most knew him as the town drunk, the guy who’s stumble into the sheriffs drunk tank more times than anyone could ever count back in the day.

but for hunters, bobby was something else entirely. his house was a way point, you knew this. you grew up knowing this. his phone was always ringing off the hook with desperate calls for his advice. most people thought he was just a cranky ol’ drunk redneck, but in the hunting world. Bobby Singer was a fuckin legend.

but that definitely didn’t stop any of the whispers in town, especially when they found out he was harboring a daughter.

-

the screen door slammed shut, jarring the door frame behind the one & only Bobby Singer as he staggered into the kitchen. his arms weighed down by a sack of groceries & a 6 pack of beer. the clink of the bottles echoed through the quiet house. he paused, staring at the faint light coming from under your door.

“you planning on coming out anytime soon or am i raising a damn hermit?” he called out, his voice rough but teasing.

silence.

Bobby sighed & sat the groceries down on the counter, trudging his way up the stairs to your door. “June bug” he said again, softer this time “i know you’re awake”

there was a quite shuffle behind your door, & it slowly creaked open. the hinges prying & withering from how the house aged. your door cracked enough for a wild head of hair to peek out. eleven year old you eyed your father suspiciously “you didn’t forget the peanut butter this time, did you?”

bobby grunted, turning to the kitchen & grabbing the sack of groceries. he slowly returns holding the jar up like a trophy. “one smooth, extra-large jar of peanut butter. happy now kiddo?”

your door opened a bit wider, the hinges creaking a bit more as you shuffled out. you were smaller for your age, but your sharp eyes & the grease stains lining your nail beds made you seem years older. “thanks” you muttered, snatching the jar & turning to retrieve back to your room.

“hey!” bobby barked, & you froze mid step. “you’re not holding up in there all night. suppers in an hour. & you’re helping.”

“helping with what daddio?” you challenged, turning around.

“with cooking kid. you can’t live on peanut butter sandwiches & ramen for forever ya know?”

you wrinkled your nose but decided against arguing. bobby watched you retreat back in your room, the door closing softly this time. he sighed again as he ran a hand down his face. raising a kid alone was never in his cards, karen was supposed to be here. she wasn’t supposed to die. hell, he wasn’t even sure if he was doing this whole “parenting thing” right. but you were his, the only part of Karen he had left & he knew you were her pride & joy. he refused to let either of his girls down, ever again.

-

an hour later, you stood on a stool beside bobby, stirring a pot of chili with a concentration that made you look like you were defusing a bomb.

“not so fast” bobby said, watching you. “you’re gunna splash it everywhere junebug”

“i know what im doing daddy” you shot back as you slowed your movements

“sure you do” he muttered. “that’s why the last time you tried this, we ended up with chili on the ceiling”

you shot your eyes up, sure enough there was the big red stain above the stove. the aftermaths of the horrific chili incident from last year. a smirked crossed your face, a rare flash of mischief that bobby hasn’t seen in a long time.

“you’re just mad because it was better than yours old man”

bobby snorted “yeah yeah you keep telling yourself that”

you ate at a small kitchen table, one that adorns all your favorite memories. the one that used to be filled with so much love & laughter. your mothers pies would rest peacefully & deliciously in the middle of the table, she’d often swat at both you & your dad when your curious fingers went digging. but now? the only sound was the clinking of spoons against bowls. it was a routine youd both had set in the last year. no matter how hard the day was you always had dinner together. it was quiet, it was comfortable. maybe that’s why you had the courage to ask

“can i come with you next time?” you asked, breaking the fragile silence.

bobby looked up from his bowl, his brow furrowed. “come where?”

“on a hunt.” your tone was casual, or as casual as you could make it seem. the determination flickering in your eyes is what caught bobby off guard. you never asked this before.

bobby sat his spoon down, “absolutely not”

“why not?” you demanded.

“because it’s dangerous, you think i wanna lose you too?” the words came out harsher than he ever intended, & he saw you flinch.

“i’m not a kid anymore dad.” you argued, your voice softer now.

“you’re eleven”

“i can handle it” you insisted.

bobby leaned back in his chair, the legs scrapped the old worn wood floors as he ran a hand through his hair. he said your name, trying to keep his tone even “you don’t know what you’re asking me for kid. hunting ain’t like fixing cars or sneaking into the garage to read my old books. it’s blood, it’s danger. things you can’t ever take back. i don’t want that life for you.”

“but it’s your life daddy.” you said, your voice softer small.

bobby looked up to you, his eyes piercing you. he was looking at you, really looking at you & for a moment he seen your mother in your eyes. stubborn, brave, & too damn smart for your own good. he sighed, the fight leaving him.

“finish your chili” he said gruffly. “& don’t bring this up again”

-

that night, you laid in your bed wide awake. starting at the ceiling, you could hear the faint clink of bottles as your dad cracked open another beer downstairs. you knew he was trying to protect you, but you couldn’t shake the feeling you were meant for more. so much more.

turning on your side, you reached for the flashlight under your pillow & flicked it on. the beam illuminating one of bobby’s old hunting journals. you’d stolen it from his office weeks ago, & every night you pored over the pages. reading about ghosts, wendigos, demons, & the men & women who fought them.

you traced your fingers over a sketch of a salt circle, your mind racing. if your dad wasn’t going to teach you, you’d just teach yourself

-

“morning bobby” sheriff mills said, tipping her hat as she leaned against her patrol car.

“sheriff” bobby grunted, adjusting the brim of his cap as he hoisted a box of supplies from his truck.

“you hear what folks been saying bout you?” she asked, a teasing smile playing on her lips.

“probably nothing i ain’t heard before” bobby replied gruffly, not looking up from the box

she chuckled, a deep belly chuckle “half the town thinks you’ve got a kid locked up in that house of yours. other half thinks she’s a ghost”

bobby froze for a second, tearing his gaze from the box to Jody. he slowly shook his head “them damn people need to mind their own business”

“can’t blame em for wondering, no one’s seen her in years”

“she’s fine” bobby said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. “& i ain’t explaining myself to a bunch of busy bodies”

Sheriff mills held up her hands in mock defense “didn’t say you had too Singer, just thought you’d wanna know is all”

bobby watched her go, a sour feeling settling in his stomach. a knot forming in hit throat, he never cared what people thought of him. but you? you never deserved this. on his drive home, he thought a lot about the life he was giving you. was he doing enough? was he a good father? he even found every doubt of worry wash away as he pulled into the driveway & seen you fast at work under the hood of his latest project car, a smile pried at his face when you held up a hand waving at him

-

later that afternoon, bobby was under the hood of the project car with you. he had just sent you inside for some drinks when he heard the familiar rumble of a car pulling into the yard. he glanced up, wiping his hands on an oil rag, & froze dead in his tracks when he caught sight of the black chevy impala.

“son of a bitch” he muttered, setting the rag down.

the car door opened, & john winchester stepped out, his boys trailing behind him. dean, maybe thirteen, was already wearing his cocky smirk. while nine year old sam looked around the yard with wide eyes.

“bobby!” john called out, spreading his arms wide like they were old friends.

“what the hell are you doing here john?” bobby asked, walking over.

“need a place to leave the boys for a couple days. got a hunt nearby, & i can’t take em with me”

bobby crossed his arms, glaring at him. “i ain’t a damn babysitter”

“they’re not babies” john argued. “dean can handle himself & sam- well, he’s sam. you know how he is”

“i know how you are” bobby shot back.

john sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “look, i wouldn’t ask if i had another option. just a couple days, bobby. that’s all i need”

bobby glanced at the boys. dean was standing protectively in front of sam, his eyes darting between his dad & bobby. sam, meanwhile was clutching a work book to his chest, looking like he’d rather be swallowed up by the world.

“fine” bobby said begrudgingly “but you owe me winchester.”

john grinned, clapping him on the shoulder. “knew i could count on you”

as they approached the house, bobby set his hat on the counter & gestured for the boys to sit.

“house rules” he said, crossing his arms. “you touch my books, you ask first. you mess with my tools, you clean up after yourselves. & you stay outta trouble. got it?”

dean nodded, his smirk returning “got it”

sam, still clutching his book, shrunk under bobby’s gaze but offered a small nod.

“& don’t bother june” bobby added, glancing up the stairs.

“june?” dean asked, raising his eyebrow.

bobby said your name softly, “my daughter” his tone daring them to make a comment.

deans smirked widened. “didn’t know you had a daughter”

“don’t make me regret letting you stay here, boy” bobby growled.

-

inside, you were grabbing a glass of juice & a beer for your dad when you heard loud gruff voices. you recognized one as your dad, the other you were certain you’d never heard before. that’s how you found yourself in your bedroom, peeking out from your bedroom window, watching the scene unfold. you’d heard stories about john winchester— mostly from the times her dad was cursing him out on the phone— but you never could put a face to the name.

you watched as john drove off, leaving the two boys behind. the taller one said something to bobby, & the old man barked a laugh before leading them inside. you ducked away from the window & scrambled to make yourself presentable. wiping your hands on your oil stained jeans & shoving a huge pile of books under your bed.

there was a knock on your door not long after.

“june bug” bobby said, his voice muffled “got some company. get out here”

taking a deep breath, you opened the door & stepped out into the hallway.

“woah” dean said the second he saw you. “you’re real?”

you blinked at him. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

dean grinned. “dad told us bobby had a kid but we thought you were just an urban legend or something”

“i’m not a kid” you said, crossing your arms.

“you’re younger than me” dean countered.

“doesn’t mean i’m a kid”

“alright knock it off” bobby interrupted, his tone gruff. he introduced you, saying your name “this is Dean & Sam. they’ll be staying with us for a few days. now that introductions are over with, show them where they’re sleeping june. also you two” he said as he pointed to sam & dean- “stay outta her room”

dean held his hands up “no problem, bobby”

“smart ass” bobby murmured under his breath as he walked down the stairs

your eyes flicked to sams, who was staring at the floor. “hi” he mumbled

“hi” you said back, softening a little.

“you kids get along” bobby said already heading for the kitchen, “& stay outta trouble”

-

you led the boys down the hall to a small guest room with two twin beds adorning it, a small dresser with a smaller tv sat infront of the two beds, one side table rested between them. there was a pink rug that used to be in your room, now pushed in the middle of the floor.

“this is it” you said, gesturing inside.

dean dropped his bag on one of the beds as he flopped down. “not bad”

sam stood awkwardly near the door, holding his bag like he wasn’t sure where exactly to put it, or himself.

“you can take that one” you said, pointing to the open bed on the far side of the room.

“thanks” he mumbled, setting his bag down carefully.

dean looked around the room, then back to you “so, what do you do around here for fun?”

you raised an eyebrow “fun?”

“yeah ya know, like normal people stuff”

you snorted, “this is the Singer household. ain’t no such thing as normal”

sam smiled a bit, dean chuckled “fair enough”

“dinners at six” you said leading yourself back down the hall to your bedroom, “try not to break anything before then”

-

that night, after a supper filled with awkward silences & a lot of side eyes from dean, you were sitting on the front porch steps leaning against the railing, staring out at the stars. they were sprinkled across the sky like salt spilled on dark velvet. the air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of oil & rust from the yard. you heard the creak of the door behind you & glanced back to see sam stepping out, his worn book tucked under his arm.

“couldn’t sleep?” you asked.

sam shook his head, hesitating but deciding to sit down on the step beside you. “deans snoring”

you smirked, turning to face sam. “yeah my dad snores like a freight train. you get used to it”

sam nodded, his grip on the book tightening “your dad… he’s, uh, kinda scary.”

that made you laugh— a short, sharp sound. “yeah he’s good at that. but he’s not so bad once you get to know him. just don’t touch his books or his tools without asking”

sam looked down at his book, tracing the edge of the cover with his thumb “he seems.. i don’t know. different from my dad”

your gaze softened, “yeah? how’s your dad?”

sam shrugged, his shoulders hunching slightly. “strict. always busy with hunts. he doesn’t talk much about—“ he paused, like he wasn’t really sure if he should say anything more. “about anything, really”

you pulled your arms up to rest on your knees “my dads the same. i mean, he talks, but mostly it’s just grumbling bout how im not doing something right.”

sam smiled faintly. “at least you get to stay here. you know, one place. we’re always moving. dean says it’s fine.. but i don’t know”

you tilted your head, watching him “you don’t like it do you?”.

sam shook his head, his hair falling into his eyes. “it’s hard to make friends, & just when you start to like the place you leave. dean says it’s better this way but…”

“but it sucks” you finish for him

“yeah” he admitted.

you sat in silence for a moment, the sounds of the salvage yard humming around you. you could hear the faint croak of crickets & the occasional rustle of a cat weaving through cars.

“what’s that your reading?” you asked, nodding towards the book in his lap.

sam perked up slightly, he held it out “it’s about mythology. greek gods & stuff. i’ve read it a bunch of times but i always find something new”

you grinned “you’re a nerd”

sam’s face turned red, as he ducked his head. “i guess”

“relax, i didn’t mean it as an insult” you said, nudging him with your shoulder. “i like books too. not the mythology ones though, im more into the hunting ones. lore & spells & stuff”

“like your dads books?”

“yeah” you said, your voice dropping a bit. “he doesn’t know i read them, but i’ve learned a lot. salt circles, sigils, how to banish spirits. that kind of thing”

sam’s eyes lit up, “really? that’s so cool”

“don’t tell my dad” you warned

“i won’t” sam promised

you share a small smile before you turned your gaze back to the stars.

“you’ll be okay, you know” you said after awhile.

“what do you mean?” sam asked

“your dad. hunting. all of it. you’re tough, i can tell sammy”

sam looked at you, surprised “thanks junie.”

you shrugged, smiling at the nickname as you stood & brushed the dirt off your jeans. “don’t mention it, now come on. if dean wakes up & finds out we’re our here bonding, he’ll never let us hear the end of it”

sam laughed, the sound so soft but so genuine. god don’t let your daddy hear it but maybe it isn’t so bad, hanging around the winchesters.

-

the next morning, the smell of bacon & eggs filled the house. you stood at the stove, flipping strips of bacon with a practiced hand. you loved cooking breakfast, one of the only memories you’ve held onto all these years of your mother is how you used to cook breakfast with her every morning for your father, you even continued or (tried to continue) after she was gone.

dean wandered into the kitchen, still half-asleep his hair sticking in all different directions.

“is that bacon?” he asked, his voice hopeful.

“yeah” you said smirking, “& no you’re not getting any until sam gets up”

dean groaned, slumping into his chair at the table “he’s probably just reading again. kid never stops”

“maybe you should try it” you teased.

dean rolled his eyes “why read when you can just be awesome?”

“awesome at what? snoring”

dean smirked “funny”

sam appeared, a moment later. his book under his arm as usual, you handed him a plate & he smiled shyly

“thanks”

dean looked at his plate, then back to you. “you’re alright, you know?”

“don’t get used too it” you shot back, sitting down with your own plate.

-

after breakfast, bobby led dean to the garage & handed him a wrench. he nodded toward an old chevy. “if you’re staying here, you’re working. get under that hood & make yourself useful”

dean grinned “yes, sir”

you watched as dean dove into the task, his confidence clear. “he thinks he’s hot stuff, doesn’t he?” you muttered to sam

“always” sam replied, rolling his eyes.

you laughed & grabbed a rag, “cmon let’s see if he knows what he’s doing.”

the morning passed with the three of you working in the yard, the occasional sound of you & dean bickering breaking the peaceful quiet. sam stayed silent mostly, but every now & then you’d catch him wearing a smile

as the sun blazed overhead you stood under the hood of a car later that afternoon, wiping sweat from your brow. you were working on one of bobby’s personal vehicles, muttering to yourself as you tightened a particularly stubborn bolt.

“need a hand?”

you glanced up to see dean, leaning casually against the side of the truck. his trademark smirk firmly in place.

“i’ve got it” you replied, going back to your work

“are you sure?” dean teased, leaning a little closer “looks like you’re struggling”

you rolled your eyes. “i’m not struggling. i just don’t need some wannabe mechanic messing up my work”

dean chuckled, unfazed. “wannabe? sweetheart, i’ve been fixing cars since i could walk”

“good for you” you shot bavk, refusing to look at him.

deans grin widened as he walked around to your side of the truck. “alrighty then. i’ll just stand here & admire the view”

you froze for a split second before glaring at him “the view?”

he nodded, clearly enjoying himself & the reaction he was getting from you. “yep. the salvage yard is real scenic from this angle”

you snorted, shaking your head “you’re impossible, you know that?”

“yeah but you like it” dean quipped, his eyes glinting.

“keep dreaming winchester.” you replied, though you couldn’t help the faintest twitch of a smile

-

that evening, you found sam sitting on the front porch steps again, his book open on his lap. this time though, he wasn’t reading; he was staring out at the darkening yard, lost in thought.

“hey” you said gently, stepping outside & finding a spot beside him

“hey” sam replied; his voice quiet.

“what’s up?” you asked, pulling your knees to your chest

sam hesitated, then closed his book & set it aside. the old wooden porch boards cradling the worn leather. “do you ever feel like… maybe.. you don’t belong?”

you blinked, completely caught off guard. “sometimes.” you admitted, “why?”

sam sighed, running his small hands over his face. “i just… i don’t want this life. the hunting. the moving around. dean loves it, dad expects it, but me? i just want something different.”

you tilted your head, watching him carefully. afraid if you even let out a breath to heavy sam will start pushing his protective layer back over himself.

“like what sammy?”

“i don’t know” sam said, his voice tinged with frustration. “a normal life i guess. stability. college. friends. ya know?”

“sounds nice” you offered softly

sam looked at you like you had 4 heads & 3 of them were on fire as he spoke “you think so?”

“yeah” you said with a small shrug, “but normals not really an option for people like us, is it?”

sam frowned, his shoulders sagging “i wish it was”

you placed a hand on his arm, giving him a gentle supportive squeeze. “but hey, if anyone can find a way out it’s you. you’re real smart. you’ll figure it out”

sam’s lips twitched into a faint smile “thanks junie”

“anytime” is all you offered, your eyes finding their way back to the familiar stars you’ve come to know so well.

-

by the third day, bobby had warmed up to the boys- though he’d never outright admit it. dean was under the hood of the same chevy, hands covered in grease, while bobby stood nearby, arms crossed as he watched carefully.

“not bad, kid” bobby grunted as dean tightened the last bolt.

dean grinned, wiping his hands on the rag bobby threw him. “coming from you, i’ll take that as a compliment”

“don’t let it go to your head” bobby muttered, though there was hint of a smile beneath his gruff tone.

meanwhile, you were helping sam in the library, sorting through some of bobby’s older books.

“your dads not as scary as he looks” sam said as he shelved a worn book.

you chuckled “he definitely grows on you”

sam nodded, his expression thoughtful as he continued shuffling through the books. “dean likes him, he doesn’t say it. but i can tell”

you raised any eyebrow, a bit caught off guard.“really?” you think so?”

“yeah” sam said, smiling faintly. “dean does respect a lot of people, but your dad? he respects him”

you felt warmth in your chest as you heard dean & your dads laughs “good to know”

-

the sound of the impala pulling into the yard came unexpected & unwarranted, john never called & let anyone know when he was coming nor what day. john stepped out of the impala, looking as worn & serious as ever.

“boys” he called out, dean & sam appeared almost instantly with their bags slung over their shoulders.

“thanks for lettin em stay” john said to bobby, his tone gruff but sincere.

“don’t make it a habit” bobby replied, though his voice lacked its usual edge.

john nodded, then turned to his sons. “get in the car.”

dean glanced back to you before climbing into the passenger seat. “see you around june”

“yeah” you said, leaning against the porch railing “see you”

sam gave you a small wave from the backseat, & you returned it. your smiled tinged with sadness

as the impala to life & disappeared down the road, you felt an ache in your chest you couldn’t quite understand.

-

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[theredconqueror]

A different kind of shock strikes him now as Lucanis provides him the answer, like an icy water plunge. An answer that defies logic. Why would Lucanis get him such a thing, when his words had indicated that he wanted the other a world away? That they might never be what they had once been, blurring the boundaries between right and wrong? Had it been meant to accompany the apology, perhaps? But which had perhaps seemed to pale compared the offering of a knife upon a throat? "Oh, Lucanis..." He is sorry now, for those frost-filled days, and time wasted, when instead he might have had the other in his arms. In this moment, he is tuned into Spite, unconscious of even doing so, but how could he not be? The three of them all blend together, melding body and emotion, and for a moment he almost thinks the demon-desperate thought is his own, but it isn't. It should embarrass him, how another is party to his weakness here, as Spite is not Lucanis, and yet... he's found a fondness for the spirit, unique from his thoughts for the assassin. A momentary glance grazes over, as he can barely bear to keep himself from looking at Lucanis for long, but it is enough to say: you are remembered, too, and; thank you. The demon had not cautioned Lucanis away from him. He thinks, even... that the spirit might have been encouraging, a kindness he doesn't deserve. But such solid thoughts are lost as he melts into Lucanis, who somehow seems surprised that he is touched by the gift. Is it born from the misunderstanding that he is a man who could have everything? It might be true, but it does not change the fact that so few think of him, and even less that might give him something. The only gift he has in his room is Varric's mirror, and suffice to say, there shall be no further ones from the dwarf. A low sound rumbles in his throat as confirmation that he does so appreciate it. He mouths back the words: I promise, but does not dare take a kiss from the other. It tortures him to hold back and wait, but he does. It is difficult to imagine Lucanis aching for him, like a candle that kept burning out in a winter's storm. "You don't need forgiveness for that..." He absolves him of this sin. With him, it will never be a sin... Mercifully, Lucanis finally kisses him, and only then does he press back, with a fiery fervor, as he had thought the assassin would deny him and chastise him for his impatience. But Lucanis does not reject him: he gives. He has to catch his breath and swallow down his golden pride that threatens to crawl up his throat and clamp his mouth shut. Instead he repeats the word thrice like a prayer, as if it will save him, and it does, as he is granted the mortal's lips upon his again, and again, and again. But the word damns him just as much, as the cool metal in his fingertips anchors him to the memory where he last spilled everything: how it began with a knife and finished with the beginning of the end of the world — dragons with eyes and wicked hearts. He is panting, catching his breath, like a man drowning and trying to lift his head above the water as he chokes on that word of weakness. His skin feels on fire and that no amount of water can douse it. He is trying to pretend to have a first life for a second time, but he knows that is impossible. He keeps close, one hand on the other's heart, the other holding the makeshift dragon. His sharp teeth hunger for answers, logic, that stable ground only words can bring him. "When did you know...?" He asks, perhaps selfish to pry, and unsure if even Lucanis can answer, if he can pinpoint the moment of want. "Why didn't you say anything?" They are here in this moment because he had reached out, with a hand, with a gesture as clear as day, of intent. And what if he hadn't? Would Lucanis have burned in secret? Until when?

It's not so much he wants to kiss Valrys again and again; more than that, these human desires fanned by an infernal, damning urge, he wants to relearn vocabulary words from the shape of the other's mouth as even his lungs turn impatient, longing to close in and breathe the same air again. Something in his chest settles at the immediate confirmation — one so easily granted as if, perish the thought, Valrys could barely deny him anything — and Lucanis revels in the invitation to observe, categorizing the minute shifts of an expression that's grown ever more dear to him over the moons. Surprise leads to an appearance that appears closer to gutted, strung open from chest to gut with everything spilling out, more exposed than he's ever seen the mage.

When? The answer comes in a forthcoming manner, unable, in turn, to deny the man any honesty in such intimate quarters. "When you first told me to leave." Voice a low murmur, recalling the long weeks of terse silence, the days filled with a numbing chill, he adds, quieter, "I was out for the week's supplies, and saw it." Didn't think twice, Spite fills in, equally fond, and perhaps even fonder as its attention sits on Rook with what might resemble satisfaction.

[ Our senses hunger for TOUCH. Desperate. In the way rivers empty themselves over waterfalls. ]

A faint noise gets caught in the back of his throat, and Lucanis melts against the embrace after only a moment's hesitation — the glimpse of the other's smile enough to put to rest any reservations. Somewhere in the world, the moonlight slants, a blade of grass experiences its first rain. In here, the aquarium's glow casts them silver, and he basks in the warmth found within Valrys, his welcoming hit, every word dipped in sincerity sweeter than honey. "You do?" Love, what an odd phrase to choose for something simple as a gift, but he deigns not to chase for more, content with what he's attained; by what's already in his arms. "Promise me it's not the last time," he whispers, lips brushing against the other's as he mouths the words. The motion tender, he admires Valrys' jaw with a firm glide, hands slowly moving to cup the back of his head, to keep him close while slowly pulling him ever closer, wanting for a lucid, lurid moment for the rib cage to split open if only for the world to see how steadily his heart plays a staccato tune. All because of: "Forgive me. I believe I've been aching for your touch for longer than I've thought possible." As if desire is a shame. As if there's nowhere else to put this burgeoning, festooning emotion that threatens to overtake everything he's known for all his life. And Lucanis kisses him sweetly, heart humming with the need to grow a garden somewhere. Plant a tree. Watch the stars until they turn into sunrises by his side.

Beg and begin, both have the same origin. "Ask me again," he murmurs, kissing back each and every time Valrys speaks. Please, please, please. What a fragile, wonderful thing. How frightening it is, to be overcome so wholly by a feeling he thought himself incapable of ever expressing.

[starlight---starbrights]

Undertale yellow flowey embroidery

This took about 40 hours, give or take a few

[akascow]

im the front desk lead so i get to boss front desk people around (i hate it im so bad at being authoritative) but it also means i have to make slightly passive aggressive messages in the work chat like once a month about things ive already asked them multiple times to stay on top of but its so annoying the more i tell them and the more they just Dont do it SKJSLKAD im trying so hard to make this message look like im not mad and that im not trying to be the bitchy manager type and i dont want it to sound like im talking down to them but also like its part of ur job i shouldnt be one of the only ones doing this PLUS I SHOULDNT HAVE TO KEEP REMINDING U TO DO THIS DFJLKSLDKS

[tvintedspvrkarc]

𝗔𝗦𝗛𝗘𝗥 𝗠𝗖𝗖𝗔𝗟𝗟 𝗖𝗔𝗠𝗘𝗥𝗔 𝗥𝗢𝗟𝗟 : 3 / ∞

— 𝘮𝘶𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘺 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵 / 𝘳𝘦𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨 —

[starstaiined]

thinking about the unforgiving nature of the passage of time