#A DROP OF SUNLIGHT :: OPHELIA | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dreamwritesimagines · 4 years ago

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Twisted 28 - Sunlight [Spencer Reid x Reader]

A.N.: Thank you so much for your wonderful support my loves! Here’s the next chapter, I hope you will like it as well, and please let me know what you think of it! ❤❤ Ily, kisses! ❤❤❤

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Murder, serial killers, violence, manipulation, mentions of sex, drinking, smoking, hospitals, medicine.

Word Count: 4400

Summary: Survival makes people stronger.

Everyone’s voices were so muffled that for a moment it felt as if you were under water. It came and went just like the warmth, just like the comfort—

One moment there, the other moment far away, and anytime you tried to reach through that haze, you were pushed back into the numbness.

You could swear at some point your father was there too. You were still at the cabin, in that dress, sitting across from him by the chessboard, and then back at the weekend house where your sister was chasing you around the piano, your mother calling out for you to stop running, then someone pushing you into the lake by the cabin before it changed again and your father handed you a knife.

If this is hell, I’d like to talk to the manager.

But eventually, it all came back to you. There was this heaviness on your hand, your chest and ribs hurt terribly and your forehead kept stinging as you tried to open your eyes to meet the bright lights of the hospital room.

Ah. You weren’t in the woods anymore.

You had made it after all.

The constant beeping of the machine caught your attention for a moment before you looked down to see Spencer’s head resting on your hand, his fingers entwined with yours. Your mother was by the couch, her eyes fixed on the ceiling with a crumpled tissue in her hand and Mina was resting her head on her shoulder.

“Mom?” you rasped out and your mother’s eyes whipped to yours, Mina sat up and Spencer’s head shot up.

“Oh thank God!” your mother jumped out of her seat to come to your beside and pressed a kiss on top of your head, making you wince. “Oh thank God you’re okay…”

“Hey,” Mina wiped at her eyes and cleared her throat, “Welcome back brat.”

You smiled and turned to Spencer who was still holding your hand tight, watching you with bloodshot eyes.

“I know,” you said, “No eyeliner right?”

A small sob mixed with laughter rose from his throat and he pressed your hand to his lips, swallowing thickly.

“Hi.”

“Hey professor,” you tried to smile but you were in too much pain to do so, “Is there like…a morphine button or-?”

“I’ll go get the doctor,” Mina rushed out of the room and closed the door behind her, and your mother pulled back.

“How do you feel honey?”

“Like I crawled out of hell,” you said, “Is- is everyone okay?”

“Everyone is fine.”

“Where’s Lily?”

“With Kenzie and Nolan, outside.”

You let out a breath and turned to Spencer.

“You figured it out?” you asked, “The note?”

“Ophelia, yeah,” he sniffled and nodded fervently, “Cabin by the lake, we were on our way there when—” he stopped talking as if remembering it was way too heavy on him and you squeezed his hand.

“How did I….” you looked between them, “Survive? Erica shot me.”

“The helicopter,” your mother said, “We sent it with a medic and a sniper just in case.”

“You sent a helicopter with a medic and a sniper?” you repeated, “Mom, that sounds like a joke.”

“Well I’m glad you find it funny,” your mother wiped at her eyes again, “Because you’re grounded for the rest of your life.”

“Okay,” you shot a look at Spencer, “Ignore this.”

“No, not even your boyfriend can help you right now.”

“They still like you, no worries,” you explained and he shook his head slightly, reaching out to touch your cheek as if trying to prove to himself that you were real.

“I thought—“ he started and blinked back the tears, gritting his teeth and you rubbed your thumb over his hand.

“I’m fine,” you said and lifted your head when the thought hit you, “Wait what happened to Lincoln?”

A shadow crossed Spencer’s eyes and your mother flexed her fingers as if she wanted to throttle someone upon hearing his name.

“That monster is currently handcuffed to a hospital bed,” she said, “But not to worry, we put ten guards in front of his door, and I will make sure to ruin his life myself.”

“He survived?”

“Barely,” Spencer said through his teeth but before he could say anything else, the door opened and a doctor stepped in. Even you could hear Lily’s very loud protests, Kenzie trying to shush her and you smiled slightly before turning to the doctor who was checking the file in her hand.

“Hello Y/N,” she said cheerfully “Nice to see you awake, for a moment you had me worried we wouldn’t get to meet. So, we have head trauma, a bullet wound, broken ribs and blood loss. Were you trying to fill out a bingo of dangerous injuries or…?”

“Go big or go home doc,” you nodded and she raised her brows.

“Should I put in a psychiatric evaluation in here as well then?”

“Yes please,” your mother pinched the bridge of her nose and you heaved a sigh, making a face.

“Pain?”

“A lot.”

“Let’s see what we can do about that,” she said and Spencer stood up.

“Can I see her chart please?” he asked and she took almost taken aback before showing him the chart.

“I’d like to change these two meds,” Spencer said and started listing off his suggestions while you watched him with a smile on your face.

“Spencer,” you said, “Please let the nice and smart lady do her job.”

The doctor grinned at you, “That’s alright. Is there anything you would like to ask me?”

“Two questions. One, when can I go home?”

“We’d like to keep you under observation for a couple of days, depending on how fast your body shows progress to heal.”

“Okay. Can I smoke here?”

“Oh Jesus Christ,” your mother threw her head back, Spencer just stared at you and the doctor blinked a couple of times.

“Since this job taught me never to take any question as hypothetical,” she said, “I’m just going to answer it. No, under absolutely no circumstances are you allowed to smoke here.”

You curled your lips, “It was worth a try.”

“We’ll give you some really good painkillers, don’t worry,” she winked, “I’ll let the rest of your family in and see you later.”

She walked to the door and opened it, and soon enough Lily rushed inside but as soon as she leaped at you, Kenzie caught her mid-air like a troublesome cat.

“No, what did I say outside?”

“But mama—“

“It’s okay Kenz. Hi bug.”

Kenzie gave you a teary eyed smile and slowly set Lily down, and she hugged her teddy bear before taking a step towards you, nibbling on her lip.

“Does it hurt?” she pointed at the stitches on your forehead and you tilted your head.

“Just a little, sweetie.”

She carefully put the teddy bear beside your bed and grinned at you.

“Mr. Chocolate Chip Cookie will be your friend here,” she patted the teddy bear’s head and you let out a small laugh.

“I really appreciate it bug, thank you,” you said and held the teddy bear in your lap before you turned to Nolan. “Hey man, thanks for the helicopter.”

“Thanks for the almost heart attack,” he replied and fixed his bowtie, “You keep me young with all this panic and adrenaline. Honestly Y/N, never do that to us again, please.”

“I’ll try my best not to get kidnapped by a maniac again,” you stated, “Besides, mom already grounded me so…”

“Good! No jet for you for a while young lady.”

A nurse came in to inject the painkiller into your IV, and you smiled at the sight of your family fondly, then cleared your throat.

“Hey, not that I didn’t miss you guys,” you said, “But um…can I talk to Spencer for a moment?”

Kenzie and Mina exchanged looks and Kenzie lifted Lily up.

“We’ll be right outside,” she said and walked to the door. One by one they left the room and your jaw dropped when you saw Mina squeezing Spencer’s shoulder before she left as well.

“Well, something changed,” you commented and Spencer came to pull a chair next to the bed before he reached out to hold your hand.

“She was the first one to talk to me when we landed,” his voice still didn’t sound so strong and you frowned.

“What did she say?”

“Go there and bring my sister back.” Spencer said and ran a hand over his eyes, “Based on the profile, I thought he’d already—“ he couldn’t even finish that sentence before he kissed the back of your hand, “I thought I lost you.”

“Nah, cigarettes will kill me, not serial killers,” you reached out to push a curl out of his eyes, “I thought you knew that. All looks and no smarts, aren’t you?”

He scoffed a shaky laugh and you licked your lips.

“What happened there?” you asked, “I heard gunshots after Erica shot me, is she—“

“Dead,” Spencer nodded, “She was shot right there.”

You could feel the goosebumps on your skin, “And Lincoln?”

“I was going to kill him,” Spencer said, “If I got there first, I would’ve.”

“Spencer you don’t mean that.”

“I do,” he told you, a dangerous light gleaming in his eyes, “I do mean that.”

You heaved a sigh, now easier thanks to the painkillers, “Yeah well, I guess I know the feeling.”

“Um- the team is outside as well by the way,” he said, “Luke and Garcia has been here the whole night, and I’ve been instructed to tell you, word by word, no amount of pastries will excuse the worry you put them through.”

You grinned, the tired haze of sleep crashing on you, “Ouch, I’ll have to try harder I guess,” you said and yawned, making Spencer smile.

“Rest a little,” he said, “I’ll stay right here, okay?”

You nodded and leaned your head back to the pillows, then closed your eyes.

***

You were given the permission to go home after a week because your mother insisted on keeping you there until she was convinced you wouldn’t drop dead all of a sudden. Surprisingly enough, she didn’t raise hell when you told her you would be staying at Spencer’s place for a while, and for once, Mina agreed with you.

You really needed to ask Spencer what had happened while you were gone, in detail.

It was strange, but your sleep was much less disturbed after you had returned from the hospital. When you were in hospital you had just assumed it was because of the meds they had given you, but now, sleeping with Spencer in his bed, there was still no sign of any nightmares.

With you, that was. Spencer was a completely different story.

You still had to be careful because of your ribs and the doctor had told you to be careful with how you slept, so the moment you moved a little in your sleep and felt the pain shooting through you, you made a face and reached for Spencer’s side of the bed only to meet an empty spot. You opened your eyes, and carefully sat up in bed, trying to hear whether there was any noise to signal he was coming back to bed but there was none, so you slipped out of the bed and walked to the living room.

Of course he was there. Cradling a cup with steam coming out of it in his hands, staring into the darkness as if he was lost in his own mind.

“Spencer?” you said softly and he turned his head, snapping out of his thoughts.

“Hey,” he said, trying to smile, “Why are you up?”

“I could ask you the same question,” you tilted your head before you went to sit beside him and he ran a hand through his curls.

“It’s not important.”

“Nightmares?” you asked and he nodded silently.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Maybe later,” he murmured, “How about you? Any pain? Do you need an ice bag?”

You shook your head, “Nah it’s fine,” you said, “It doesn’t hurt that terribly.”

“And your nightmares?”

You shrugged, “No nightmares. I mean—at least not like the earlier ones. Not where I’m turning into him.”

“Trauma works differently in everyone.”

“I don’t think it’s the trauma though,” you said, “I think it’s because…because I know now.”

He raised his brows, his whole attention on you, “What do you mean?”

“It’s not in me,” you said, “It’s just—it’s just not. I don’t think it ever was. My father killed people because it made him feel powerful. It wasn’t like that with me, back at the cabin. It was survival. For me and people I care about, that’s all. It doesn’t make me evil.”

That seemed to pull him out of his thoughts and he smiled.

“No it doesn’t,” he said, “You’ve never been evil. Even when he tried to turn you into that.”

Even your heart felt light, despite the pain in your ribs and your smile widened.

“I know he’s not dead but…”

“He’s locked away. Same difference from now on.”

You paused for a moment, “Speaking of,” you said, “I was thinking I could go and see him for the last time.”

He frowned, “Why?”

“I don’t know. I think it’ll help me put this whole thing behind me.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“I want to see the look on his face when he realizes his small project failed,” you said, “Trust me. There’s no way he can get to me, not anymore.”

He rubbed his thumb over your hand and you leaned back to the back of the couch, still keeping your gaze on his handsome face.

“You don’t have to come with me,” you said, “If it’s too much.”

“It’s not that,” he rasped out, “Officially, I might not be allowed in.”

“Why not?”

“I’m leaving the BAU.”

You blinked a couple of times, gawking at him, then sat up straighter.

“What?”

“I can’t anymore,” he averted his glances from you to look into space, nibbling on his lip, “Y/N, I was out of the city when they called me to tell me you were missing, that you were most probably taken by the copycat. And for the whole time until I found you…” his voice cracked, “Lincoln’s profile, before we even knew that he was Lincoln, it all suggested that he…killed his victims without spending any time with them. I thought—“ he sniffled and cleared his throat, “I can’t do that anymore. Imagining you like all those victims…”

“Spencer, I’m fine.”

“But you weren’t,” he said, barely moving his lips, “Back there.”

Ah. The woods.

“That’s what your nightmare was about?” you asked and he heaved a shaky sigh.

“I couldn’t save you,” he said, “You died there, and I couldn’t do anything, I was too late—“

“Spencer,” you reached out to touch his cheek, “Hey, look at me.”

He turned his head so that his eyes would meet yours and you dragged your fingertips over the slight stubble on his cheek.

“You weren’t too late,” you told him, “And I didn’t die. Okay? I’m right here. Don’t leave the BAU because of me, do it only if you want to. I’ll be with you either way.”

He blinked back the tears and nodded. “I want to,” he whispered, “I can’t anymore, and I want- I want to be here. I’ll just…I’ll focus on teaching, and the team can consult me whenever they need to, but I need to be here.”

“And you’re sure about that? It’s not some…heat of the moment decision?”

“It’s not,” he said, “I’m positive.”

“Alright,” you smiled at him softly, “Okay then. I guess instead of talking about gruesome murders and copycats who were after me, we can be one of those boring, cliché couples who bicker about…I don’t know, dirty dishes in the sink, or how you forgot to put down the toilet seat or-“

“Your hair in the drain.”

“I’m going to pretend like you weren’t waiting for the opportunity to bring that up.”

He let out a teary laugh and wiped at his eyes before he pulled you closer and carefully wrapped his arms around you so as not to hurt your ribs, burying his face into the crook of your neck. You brushed your fingers through his curls, as if trying to prove to him that you were there, that you were alright.

“I love you so much,” the confession left his lips in a whisper and you could feel the burning behind your eyes as you raked your nails over the nape of his neck gently.

“I love you too,” you murmured, “God, you have no idea how much.”

***

The BAU, upon your request, fixed a meeting with your father for the next week.

And throughout that week, everyone tried to convince you to change your mind. Your mother had made a whole scene during brunch, telling you that it was as if you liked torturing yourself, but you knew deep down that you had to talk to him for the last time.

Seeing your father after what felt like a life time, especially after everything that you had been through was strange at the very least. You didn’t have any goosebumps, you didn’t have that nervousness messing with your head, you didn’t feel like you were under the threat of being attacked any time, and most of all—

You didn’t feel like he was stronger than you. At all.

You lit a cigarette in the interrogation room, then flipped the cap of the lighter and turned your head when the door opened and your father walked in, chains dangling from his handcuffs wrapped around his ankles. He stared at you for a couple of seconds as if he didn’t expect to see you there and let out a breath.

“Petal…”

“You should sit down,” you said, exhaling the smoke and a guard helped him sit down across from you.

“We’re right outside, miss.”

“Thank you,” you said and watched as he straightened his back, his gaze focused on you.

“You look…” he trailed off and you raised your brows,

“Hm?”

“What did they do to you?”

“Ah I guess your outside source ending up dead gets you a bit behind on the news,” you said, “Erica is dead, Lincoln is never gonna see the sunlight again, and your whole project to turn me into your legacy with the help of them failed terribly.”

“I’d never allow them to harm you like this.”

You rolled your eyes, exhaling the smoke.

“But you fought your way out, didn’t you?” he asked you, “Looks like my training helped you after all. Even if you refuse to see that.”

“Did you seriously think I’d become like you?” you asked back, “Did you think Lincoln would manage to turn me into you?”

“Honey, Lincoln was going to be your companion at best, your first kill at worst.” he said and you clicked your tongue.

“Oh, that was your plan all along?”

“Some part of it, at least. I knew they wouldn’t be able to handle you, but I thought you could decide what to do with them. Could you kill Erica at least?”

“Didn’t get the chance.”

“You should have,” he said, “You would see, Petal.”

You twirled the cigarette between your fingers, staring at him for a couple of seconds.

“I keep thinking,” you mused, “You know what I said to Mina and Kenzie when they first told me they wanted to have a baby?”

He tilted his head, “Hm? What?”

“I asked them if they lost their minds.”

Your father pulled back slightly and you shrugged your shoulders.

“Because I mean… Kenzie’s parents are assholes, and there’s you,” you motioned at him, “Not that anyone else could take the cake on being a messed up parent when you’re in the picture.”

“I take offense to that.”

“I don’t care,” you said, “But then it hit me, back at the hospital. I was looking at this whole mess from the wrong perspective.”

“Which is?”

“They had a point,” you said, “Back then- before all this I mean, I thought when someone decided to have kids, their first priority was to be the perfect parent. That’s stupid, it’s impossible to be the perfect parent, our own parents mess us up in one way or another. But I get it now.”

“You get what?”

“The first step is being better than your own parents, not starting out perfect,” you said, “That’s why every generation is different, we’re all trying to be better than our parents, and some of us actually succeed.”

“And you think you’d be a better parent than me, is that it?”

“Shouldn’t take that much of an effort to be honest.”

“Are you…?” he motioned at you and you scoffed.

“No,” you said, “No, but what happened back there made me think. I’ve been living my whole life so convinced that you messed me up beyond my own control, beyond saving, but that’s not completely true, is it? I mean, just because you’re in my past, doesn’t mean I’ll have to include you in my present.”

“But I am in your present Petal.”

You pursed your lips together, then gestured around you. “Debatable. Nolan is buying this whole place, did you know that?” you asked, “All your guards are on our paychecks, so it should be harder to…use them to contact outside. We control everything that’s happening here, and there’s nothing you can do about that.”

He blinked a couple of times, trying to catch up with your train of thought.

“And you think that will be enough to put me behind you?”

You shook your head, “No, I don’t think it’s that easy,” you confessed, “But it’s a start.”

He moved his hands on the table, the chain rattling.

“I raised you.” he said, “I’m inside your head, whether you like it or not. You’re my legacy—“

“I’m my own legacy, you fucking idiot,” you said with a small chuckle, “That’s who I am. Just because your expectations of me will not leave me, doesn’t mean I’ll let them haunt me.”

“And you think that will be enough.”

“I will never see you again,” you tilted your head, “Should make things easier, to be honest.”

He smiled, “But you already hurt people,” he said “You know how it feels now, don’t you? That fire? Now you know what you’re capable of.”

You thought for a moment.

“Yeah,” you said, “Yeah I do. Now I know that if it ever comes to that point, I’m capable of protecting myself and my family. It doesn’t make me a monster, it makes me a survivor. Me and mom have that in common, after the shit you’ve pulled.”

He stared at you and you took a last drag of your cigarette, then checked your wristwatch.

“Well I should go. You may have all the time in the world, but I actually have a life, so…”

You stubbed your cigarette and walked to the door but as soon as you opened it, he said your name, making you stop.

“You can’t escape from this,” he said, “Even if you never see me again, you still won’t escape, you know that, right? Why do you think I chose you and not your sister? Even when you were a child, you had…something in you. Something dark, something dangerous.”

The idea was very familiar to you. You had been saying the same thing to yourself for many years and hearing it from him for what felt like a hundredth time was supposed to make you feel bad, you knew that. If it were any other time before your kidnapping, before saving yourself in that cabin, before surviving everything your father and his followers had put you through, it would probably have more effect on you.

The last time he had done that, you had ended up in the stairs, shaking until Spencer had found you.

But it wasn’t that time.

It was as if something had clicked inside your head after everything, and your father’s words held no strength in them.

“Come on honey,” he told you, “Some people are just born twisted.”

A small smile pulled at your lips and you raised your brows, looking at him for a couple of seconds, etching the sight of him in chains into your memory.

“Maybe,” you said and took a step towards him, opening your cigarette case to pull out the small jasmine flower out of it, then put it on the table, eyes locked to his before you leaned in slightly.

“But I wasn’t.”

With that, you turned around and walked out of the interrogation room for the last time, ignoring the way he was yelling your name. Your smile widened as you made your way out of the building, your heels echoing in the halls before you stepped out, the fresh air filling your lungs.

“Hey,” Spencer greeted you, leaning back to your car and reached out so that you could step into his embrace as he pushed your hair out of your face, “How did it go?”

“As expected,” you stood on your tiptoes to press a kiss on his lips and he heaved a sigh.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you said “Yeah I feel like…he’s gone. He’s gone, I’m here and I’m free and I know myself now. I finally woke up from that nightmare, for good.”

He smiled and brushed his lips against yours, “That’s a good start,” he commented, “What do you want to do now?”

“I’m open to suggestions,” you said and he tilted his head before he held up your keys.

“What do you say we drive away and never return here?”

You let out a small giggle and wrapped your arms around his neck.

“I like that idea,” you said, “Let’s drive away and never return.”

Chapter 29

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #twisted #spencer reid imagine #spencer #reid

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marvels-writings · 4 years ago

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Treasure You

Natasha Romanoff (Black Widow) Masterlist

Requested by @aaron-despair : Hii!^^ Can I request 4 and 17 from the types of kisses prompt list with Nat, plss??❤️

4: An accidental brush of lips followed by a pause and going back for another, on purpose.

17: Tucking their hands beneath the other person’s shirt, just to watch them break the kiss and gasp in surprise at the sensation of cold/warm hands on their skin.

Word Count: 1,521 (longish and so fluffy)

A/N: Longer than I intended, not my fav writing piece but it’s so fluffy and cute

Sunlight filled the kitchen, bringing it into a golden light. Music sounded from your headphones as you flipped another page in your book. Your feet rested upon the small table as you sat on the kitchen island. Half surprised Steve hadn’t scolded you for having your feet up on the table, you continued reading.

Natasha tiptoed into the kitchen to try to surprise you. A chuckle left her lips when she noticed you had your headphones on and were reading. A bouquet of roses and a box of pizza wasn’t the most discreet thing to carry around, but it was going to serve its purpose.

The roses were bright red, almost the color of her hair. She remembered when you told her that you loved her hair. A light blush ghosted her cheeks as she recalled your fingers threading through the strands of her hair while you talked to her.

Natasha had managed to avoid the rest of the Avengers on her way to you. She could only imagine the teasing she would endure at carrying all of this just to surprise you. Well, it wasn’t just to surprise you.

It was to tell you she loved you.

“Y/n?” Natasha called, half expecting you to hear her, knowing you won’t.

She shifted her weight, nervous even though you hadn’t even turned her way yet. She shouldn’t be this nervous, you’d told her you loved her, even though she didn’t say it back. Even after you assured her she didn’t have to say it back, she wanted to. You deserved to know.

It wasn’t like she hadn’t tried before. After bringing you to what she thought was the perfect time, the words wouldn’t leave her. It made her nervous, even after all of these months of dating, even longer years of being friends, you still made her nervous.

Biting her lip, she straightened her posture before standing directly behind you. A small smile crossing her face as she saw how engrossed you were in your book. Dropping the roses into your line of vision, she watched your face brighten into a smile.

“Tash!!” You shouted excitedly, dropping your book and taking the flowers into your hands. Removing the headphones from your ears, you turned to face her.

Butterflies erupted in her stomach as you turned to look at her. The golden sunlight glinted off of your eyes in an ethereal way. A smile made its way onto her face at your happiness. She loved how you could make her feel lovesick by looking at her with that smile.

“How’d you know it was me?” Natasha asked with a teasing smile, pulling out one of the chairs to sit next to you. She placed the pizza box on the table and watched your smile widen at recognizing the logo.

“Who else would surprise me with roses, and pizza in the middle of the day?” You asked, grinning at her. Your fingers drew towards the bouquet, playing with the petals. You glanced up hopefully at her, your features reminding her of an excited puppy.

“Only me, I hope.” She teased, bumping her nose over the bouquet. You laughed as you whacked her arm.

Natasha smiled at you, eyes tracing over you as you began to fawn over the bouquet. Words flew from you as you compared the color to the color of her hair. Her eyes glanced over to her palm. The writing there barely legible from the dampness of her palms.

There used to be rough bullet point notes she had written for her plan to tell you. All of them were smeared away, save for the words ‘just tell her’. Biting her lip, she rubbed her damp palms on her jeans before glancing back up to you.

“I’m gonna put these in a vase,” You stated, getting off your chair. “why don’t you get the pizza onto some plates?”

Natasha nodded and got off her chair before following you into the kitchen. You got some scissors and got to work to try to fit them into the vase. All the while you began to talk about the newest episode of the TV show you had been watching.

A smile crossed her face as she listened to you ramble. It was a habit you’d formed, to ramble about anything and everything when you were comfortable with someone. She caught onto the habit when she caught you rambling around other members of the team and then eventually her. She began to take out the plates, her eyes glancing towards her palm again. This time, she could make out a few more words she had written to herself. ‘It’s y/n, you know you can trust her’.

Stopping herself, she turned towards you. Her arms wrapped around your waist, her chin resting in the crook of your neck. The plates were on the counter behind her, forgotten as she embraced you. She tried to seek comfort in your touch to calm her nerves.

“Aren’t you full of surprises today?” You mused, a smile crossing your face at the sudden affection. Your girlfriend was never one to show affection, you loved whatever she would give you. This being one of the things you loved most.

Natasha shrugged behind you, watching your fingers gently snip away the stems. Her eyes were drawn to her palm again as she tried to think of how to say it. Her lips were parted, but no words seemed to come out.

Licking her lips dryly, she moved to your side. Her arm brushing behind your shoulder as her chin rested on your shoulder. The contact grounding her as she tried to bring herself to say it. Turning to face you, she opened her mouth to say something.

You turned your head with a lopsided grin, probably to make a joke or start rambling about something else. She didn’t know, all she could notice was your lips brushing hers as you turned towards her.

You moved back slightly, giving her the space you were almost sure she would want. You opted to try not to initiate any contact, unsure if she was comfortable with it. Your eyes searched hers for any sign of discomfort, but you didn’t see any. It still wasn’t enough for you.

Surprise filled you when Natasha leaned towards you. Her lips touched yours gently, moving over yours in synch. Taking in a breath, you let yourself sink into it. A sigh left the redhead as your hand went towards her hair, wounding your fingers in the soft strands.

Pulling away, she rested her forehead against yours. Breathing harder than she should be, her nerves settled down as she felt your hands around her neck.

“I love you,” Natasha whispered, breathing easier now she had finally said it. A weight lifted off her shoulders as she looked up at you hopefully.

She didn’t see anything she was taught to expect. Instead, she saw surprise and adoration, insecurity lining underneath it. Her thumb went towards your cheekbone, running across it as she watched your mouth open and close slowly.

“Are you sure?” You asked, tilting your head to the side.

A slow smile graced her lips as she looked at you. You weren’t asking if she was sure about you, you were asking if she was sure about letting herself be with you. She knew you would wait for years if it meant you would get the chance to love her. But she didn’t want to make you wait, not when she was finally sure this was what you wanted.

Not when she was so sure that you were what she wanted.

“With you,” Natasha whispered, nodding her head subtly.

A bright grin crossed your face, eyes lighting up again. Feeling a little braver, you leaned forwards and touched your lips to hers. Natasha melted and leaned forwards, hands moving around your waist. Fingertips toyed with the hem of your shirt, her lips coming upwards into a smile.

Your lips curved into a smile, pulling away as you rested your forehead against hurts again. Slowly opening your eyes, you saw insecurity looming in her green eyes. Smiling at her, you leaned forwards and nudged your nose against hers.

“I love you too.” You murmured, just loud enough for her to hear you. The whisper surrounded both of you in a sense of security. Something Natasha didn’t want to leave.

Her lips met yours, gently moving in synch. Her hands sliding under your shirt, tracing soft patterns on your stomach.

Closing her eyes, Natasha let herself lean into you. The warmth of your skin. Your soft breaths against her. She treasured it, the intimacy of it. It was still a little hard to believe that she managed to find love in her life.

Even if she couldn’t believe it, she would treasure you.

“Thank you,” Natasha whispered. You smiled reassuringly, trying to remind her that she didn’t need to thank you.

But she needed to, to thank you for convincing her that she was worthy of something more. She would spend forever convincing herself if it meant she would be with you.

A/N: Tell me what you think!!!

Tag List: @capcarolsdanver, @versdan, @lesbian-girls-wayhaught, @lovebotlarson, @dhengkt, @hstoria, @natasha-danvers, @veryfunnyal, @xxxtwilightaxelxxx , @ophelias-heart , @never-didbefore , @justarandomhumanhere, @the-most-unicorn-of-them-all , @thatssocamryn , @lesbian-x-blackwidow , @marvelbbyx , @wlw-imaginesss , @hcartbyheart , @summergeezburr , @imnotasuperhero , @a-stressedstudent , @aaron-despair , @rooskaya-yelena , @dynnealberto , @thewitchandtheassassin , @wannabe-fic-reader , @izalesbean, @higherfurther-romanova , @natalia-quinzel let me know if you’d like to be in any of my tag lists!

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mahotoai · 3 years ago

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-- RP (AU): Exhausted Hearts

@yugenronin | Kenshin, Shingen, Kagemochi, etc.

---

A few days had passed since they had set out, and Sakura had insisted on taking some time to just breathe before they arrived in Kai. That being said, she knew Kenshin was eager to be there, so she didn’t overly press on taking time. As they arrived in Kai, she pulled her hood up over her head not only to block out the bright sunlight, but to hide her ears. People were already staring with an unguarded Warlord marching with just a hooded figure accompanying him into Kai -- they didn’t need to see someone strange like Chiharu running around too.

“This place really does fit Chiharu.” Sakura admitted she followed Kenshin’s lead. “Or maybe i’ve just been spoiled by the beautiful moonlight in Echigo.”

-- Meanwhile in Echigo

Ophelia had been left with instructions -- take things at her own pace. Do as directed by Kagekatsu and help out with the horses and domestic chores but don’t push herself to exhaustion... and try to get along with Kagemochi for everyone’s sake. At the moment she was tending to some of the horses with Noe’s help, the boy brushing this one while Ophelia tended to the mane and tail as well as checking their hooves. However orange eyes would turn at the sight of something purple and familiar approaching. Noe looked up immediately and brightly, running over, dropping the brush and latching onto the person at hand. “Moti!” He greeted, looking up with a toothy grin -- apparently he had lost one... or two.

Ophelia hadn’t the foggiest how he had done it, but she suspected either bullying or someone was teaching him how to use the wooden sword, and yet she said nothing. She didn’t think it to be Kagemochi, and in his case, she stopped her grooming of the horse, giving the animal a pet before nodding in his direction. “Your horse is this one, yes? They are in good condition. Should be ready to ride at your leave.”

#yugenronin #ophelia ;; ic #sakura ;; ic #guest ;; noe #a book left open ;; starters #the drums of war resound through us all ;; au

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waterandsilver · 2 months ago

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average succulent: i need 9 hours 25 minutes and 57 seconds of direct sunlight per day, and exactly 10.5288ml of water each week. one single drop more and i will drown myself like ophelia. any less i will personally shoot you in the face

average dracaena: hey you bought me 5 months and have watered me maybe twice. i look exactly the same.

average ivy: YOUR WALLS :) I WANT THEM :) I WANT TO BE ON YOUR WALLS :)

now that i have slightly more experience with indoor plants than i used to, im baffled about why a cactus is seen as the generic office/house plant. like WHY when they can't be touched and are stupidly picky about light levels

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oh-atlas · 3 years ago

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i think it says a lot about me that both of my currently playing pcs have huge mechanical disadvantages.

ophelia isn't using her bite attack which is one of the best mechanics of her vampire (dhampir mechanically) abilities, registers as undead for the purposes of divine sense, turn undead, etc., is affected by consecrated ground, objects, & holy water, and has sunlight sensitivity (which you wouldn't think is a problem in barovia, damn items and spellcasters)

iile has disadvantage on saving throws against being charmed and if she drops to zero she is just. is completely fucked if someone picks her up. i am praying i never have to deal with the consequences of my own character concept

#ch: ophelia #ch: iilesaryn #what this says about me is i am a glutton for punishment

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account-archived · 4 years ago

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Snapril day 1

Prompt: Awakening

Pairing: Severus Snape/female OC

Words: 1026

Content Warnings: death mention, blood mention, wounds, snake mention

I am so excited to partake in Snapril, this event has been put together by @rose0jam and there will be a new prompt every day! Today I’ve decided to get a bit angsty with it, but with a romantic twist.

Death was empty and cold. For the few brief moments Severus went without a heartbeat, he saw nothing but pitch black darkness. There was no guiding light, no staircase to heaven or to hell, just a pleasant relief from the pain and suffering. Each minute dragged on for what felt like hours, but in reality he was only lost to the world for three short minutes.

His taste was the first of his senses to reawaken, the bitter drops of antivenom thick like sap against his tongue. The next thing he felt was the unpleasant tearing in his throat as he swallowed, his flesh throbbing with the constant ache of his fatal wound. He should be dead, and yet his eyes fluttered open, straining against the blinding sunlight seeping into the room. His vision blurred, he could barely make out the outline of a woman bent over him, tending to him with such devotion he knew he didn’t deserve.

Though he was weak, he found enough strength within himself to reach out to the woman, his hand closing around her thin wrist. He thought he recognized the familiar brush of soft skin but he was not certain who it was until his fingers trailed towards the ring on her finger. His lips twitched into a slight smile, or at least they tried to, as he blinked up at her. If he could speak, he would tell her he was lucky he had married a healer, lucky to be with someone who was as gifted in the art of brewing potions as he was. Only she could save his life, only she could bring him back from death.

His hand slipped from hers as a heavy sigh escaped his lips. He had to stop himself from wondering why she had brought him back. Wouldn’t it be easier to move on and find a lover who deserved her more than he did? Wouldn’t it be easier to let him go? The answer to his question came in the form of a soft kiss placed against his brow and his doubt melted away. He tried once again to speak but all that came out was a strangled cry of pain.

“I know, sweetheart,” the woman soothed, her hand brushing through his sweaty hair. “It’s going to hurt for a while. The bites were very deep and I barely got to you in time.”

In time. Hadn’t he been dead?

“Just keep resting.”

At last, his vision cleared and his eyes fell on the golden waves of hair that cascaded down the woman’s plump shoulders, her pleasant face smiling down at him. Perhaps he was dead and she was an angel. Perhaps she had never been mortal to begin with. In an attempt to communicate his admiration, his hand reached for hers again, his fingers brushing her freckled forearm. Ophelia looked down at him with a warm expression, and he was so enraptured by her presence that he didn’t bother trying to decipher where exactly he was or why she was tending to him and not others who had been wounded in the war.

“Are you comfortable?” Her voice was soft, as if she was afraid to startle him if she spoke too loud or too sharp. “I can get more pillows and blankets from the guest room if you’re not comfortable.”

It is then that he realized he was home. He cannot ask her how or when she got him home, his aching throat leaving him with no voice to speak his concerns. Why wasn’t she at the castle? Why wasn’t she saving other people? Why did she waste her time with him? Though he was uncomfortably silent, his thoughts were loud. Pillows and blankets and comfort were the furthest things from his mind.

“Sev?”

Her voice stilled his thoughts, his eyes gazing up at her with a helplessness she had not seen in him for years. He should be relieved to be here with her, and yet it felt wrong. Survivor’s guilt. His tongue passed over his dry lips and he tried once again to speak, a single strained sigh leaving his lips. After years of being used as a pawn between Dumbledore and Voldemort, after years trying to fix his mistakes, years of watching helplessly as people around him died, after all the people he could not save, all the people he had hurt, death was supposed to be his redemption. He was supposed to be dead. And yet here he was, reawakened by love. He did not deserve it.

As if he could no longer stand looking at his beautiful wife, his eyes snapped closed, silently begging the darkness to envelope him once more. He strained to remember what had happened, how she could have possibly managed to get him home, but all he could remember was the searing pain of Nagini sinking her teeth into his flesh and the faint regret that he could not say goodbye to his wife. What a horrible end.

“I was waiting for hours for you to wake, I was starting to worry.”

His eyes fluttered open once more, his gaze filled with a strange mix of remorse and gratitude. If he could speak, he would thank her a million times over for wasting her time and effort on him, but he knew what she would say in response. She would tell him he was her everything and she had no other choice; so he tolerated this new awakening, this rebirth. He did not deserve a second chance, but she did not deserve to lose the one person she cared about the most.

“When you are better, I will take you into the garden for some sunlight. For now, I want you to rest and let me take care of you. I’ve brewed several different potions for your pain, I have fresh bandages prepared for tonight. I think you could manage to swallow broth, couldn’t you?”

As she rambled on about how she intended to take care of him, he caught her wrist once more and gave it a gentle squeeze to catch her attention. As her eyes fell on his pale face, he mouthed the only words he could seem to remember.

I love you.

Please follow my new account @empressofalderaan

#snapril #snape/oc #severus snape/oc #severus snape x oc #snape x oc #prosnape #snape lives #;snapril

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yugenronin · 3 years ago

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As for Kagemochi, Noe had made some Mochi and Tea for the General all by himself and while it probably tasted fairly bad, the boy was proud of himself. What's more is that he was telling him all about his training with Sakura and how he wanted to learn to pick up a sword and be like the General, and after the feast, when Ophelia was left in Kagemochi's company, she took a seat beside him, but not before laying a knitted shawl over his shoulders. "I have missed your company, Sir Kagemochi. (c)

[(c), and while it is Yuletide, I..." She drifts off. "... I am afraid you will go straight into your shell again." She reaches out a hand to rest gently on his. "I'm afraid I can't let you go back in with me around." She had definitely gotten much more bolder in his time away, and her gaze was even more serious. "I don't much feel like talking about what transpired, but... perhaps we can talk of something else...? Anything you like." (d/au)]

----

Kagemochi ate every piece of mochi with a smile, drank every drop of tea. He piled praise upon Noe for his hard work and told him they should make mochi again together sometime. He protected the others from the mochi as well, insisting it was much too special to share when Kageie playfully tried to snag a piece. But by the end of his feast, after telling Noe he would teach him whatever he wished to know so that they could keep Ophelia safe together, Kagemochi crashed.

He found himself alone with Ophelia, a shawl on his shoulders, and leaned into her shoulder with a quiet groan. While he was still smiling, there was some discomfort.

"I have no intention of hiding anything from you anymore, though I'm sure you understand there are still things I simply... dislike discussing. Your company though, ah, how lovely it is... I am a very lucky man."

He said that, and he meant it. He even found something for Ophelia, something he believed would suit her. It was a hairpin, able to be worn with shorter hair as it sat typically near the ear, details made of a glass so delicate they caught the light and looked like stars. It was simple in shape, but the many small pieces that caused it to glitter as it did were complex.

"The sunlight, the moonlight, it will reflect here. It should shine as you do."

Now if only he hadn't eaten so much mochi his stomach hurt...

#mahotoai #amakasu kagemochi

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smarchit · 4 years ago

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Poetry for an Heiress, Chapter 5

Word Count: 4.2k (exactly lol)

Summary: When a duchess and her children are abandoned far from home, they must rely on the kindness of one stranger to guide them home.

Warnings: Near drowning, brief allusion to suicide (for this chapter)

All Ezra could do was watch in terror as she fell as he rounded the bend with the boys in tow. She didn't scream, didn't shout for help as she fell. He saw her disappear over the side of the ravine and into the water below. He dropped the cooler and shouted her name, hoping, praying that she heard him.

"Stay here!" he called to the boys as he rushed to the side of the ravine. He wouldn't be able to jump without injuring himself. "Make sure your sister doesn't go anywhere!"

Ezra rushed off the path and slid down the sloping hillside, closer to where he could safely jump in. He kept his eye on the spot where the Duchess had fallen in, hoping to see her bob to the surface. When she didn't appear by the time he reached the bottom, he quickly unclasped his jacket and dove into the river after her.

The bubbles had stopped coming to the surface - he didn't have much time, and even less considering he couldn't swim as well as he used to. He'd have to think fast in order to save her, if it wasn't too late already.

As he sunk to the bottom, it became harder to see. Mud had swirled up from the bottom, clouding his vision. Through the murk, he saw the pale blue lace of her dress floating in the water. He kicked his legs towards her and wrapped his arm around her waist. As he tried to pull her free, he noticed her ankle had gotten tangled in the debris that collected in the mud and sand at the bottom of the river. It wouldn't budge on its own.

He dug his boots into the silt and quickly freed her foot. As she slowly began to ascend to the surface, he grabbed her by the waist again and kicked his legs to try and steer them both towards the bank.

He breached the surface, coughing and sputtering as he dragged her onto the grass. She wasn't breathing.

"Shit," he grunted, wiping the water from his face. He looked up and saw the boys had slid down the hill after him. Marie was still climbing down on her side, screaming for her mother. "Shit! Aiden, I need you to go across the river and get your sister. Henry, I need you to hold your mother's nose for me."

"But, Mr. Ezra--"

"I need to breathe for her, kid," he quickly explained. "I can't do it one-handed."

Henry reached over and pinched her nose closed, his own cheeks stained with tears. He took a deep breath to steady himself as he watched Ezra closely.

"Good, good. It's gonna be okay," Ezra soothed, pushing the duchess' hair from her mouth. He bit his lip and looked at Henry before mumbling an apology under his breath and lowering his mouth to hers. He placed his hand over her breast and felt her chest rise and fall with his breaths. Beneath his hand, he could feel the steady thumping of her heart.

Henry sniffled and let out a little sob as he watched Ezra. He held his mother's hand in his lap, silently begging her to come back.

"Alright, let go of her nose," he urged, sitting back up on his knees. Aiden had rejoined the group, holding Marie close to him as she screamed. Ezra took a deep breath and pumped her chest, trying to clear the water from her lungs. Once, twice, three times, before---

"Mama!" Marie wailed as her mother involuntarily jerked to the side and coughed up a mouthful of water.

"Wake up! C'mon, Princess," he begged. "Wake up!"

He helped pull her into a sitting position and thumped her on the back, trying to clear as much water as he could from her lungs as she coughed loudly. "Cough one more time. Good. Good. 0Boys, help me stand her up."

***

"Your highness! Your highness!" a frantic voice pulled you out of a sound sleep. "Wake up!"

You slowly opened your eyes to the darkness and rolled over to face the other side of the bed. Empty. Rion, your husband, was still off in the Far Systems fighting invaders. He'd been gone for six weeks already, leaving you with twin boys under three and a third baby on the way with your due date closer every day.

"Your highness!" the voice came again, accompanied by a frantic knocking at your door. "Please wake up!"

"I'm coming!" you called with a groan as you slid out of bed. You cupped your growing belly and waddled towards the door. "Ophelia, what is it?"

Ophelia, your handmaiden, stood before you in her own night clothes, her expression ashen, twisting her hands nervously. "Milady, it's-- it's His Highness."

You felt your heart drop into your stomach. Ice cold panic settled into your veins and sweat beaded up on your brow. It couldn't be...

"What happened?" you breathed, clutching the doorknob for support.

"He... oh, Highness, please don't make me repeat it," Ophelia sobbed as she pressed her hand against her mouth.

"You must," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "I must hear it."

She removed her hand from her mouth and looked at you, her dark eyes locking with your own. "Milady... he was killed by the invading forces. An assassin snuck into his tent and, oh, they shot him. Dragged his body behind their truck, showing off their victory. He's dead. Your highness, I'm so sorry."

You fell into her arms and wailed, your cries echoing down the hallway. In the back of your mind, you thought of your sons, just a few years old. What were they going to think when they couldn't find their father? And the babe still inside you? They were never going to meet him. Your heart shattered, held only together by your children.

As you lifted your head from Ophelia's shoulder, you spotted Edgar consoling your mother. The moonlight streamed in from the large windows and cast a harsh shadow across Edgar's angular face. If not for the tears that clouded your vision, you would have sworn that Edgar was smiling.

It all became too much for you and you collapsed against Ophelia, sagging heavily in her arms. You heard her shout for Edgar as she lowered you to the ground, cradling your head in her lap before you fell unconscious in her arms.

"Your highness!" Edgar called, frantically trying to shake you awake. "Please wake up!"

***

"Wake up! C'mon, Princess," a warbled voice pleaded, dragging you through the darkness. "Wake up!"

You managed to crack open your eyes to blinding sunlight and couldn't stop yourself from coughing violently. It felt like you couldn't breathe.

Someone helped you sit up and firmly pounded you on the back. You coughed and sputtered again as hot water spilled from your Iungs.

"Good, good," the same voice soothed. The hand moved up your back and gave a few more pats. "One more. Cough one more time. Good girl. Boys, help me stand her up. We gotta get her back to the house. Hang on to her now, she might go dead weight on you."

"It's a girl!" cried Petunia, the midwife that was currently knelt between your legs. The piercing wail of a newborn baby filled the room, bringing you out of your labored stupor.

Your mother pushed sweaty hair back from your forehead and gripped your shoulder, beaming with pride. "Oh, my sweet, she's beautiful! You did a wonderful job! I'm so proud of you."

"A girl! Can I see her?" you gasped, reaching for the shrieking baby. A second midwife whose name you couldn't remember snipped the cord and placed another sheet beneath your chair to clean up the mess.

"In a moment, miss," Petunia promised. She went to work, quickly brushing off the baby's face, clearing her nose and mouth of fluid before wrapping her in a blanket and laying her gently in your arms.

Your mother cooed and leaned in to look at your new baby. She took the corner of the blanket and cleaned some remaining fluid from around her still closed eyes.

"Oh, she's perfect," she whispered, pressing a kiss to your sweaty temple. "He would have been proud to have a daughter, you know."

You only nodded, too transfixed by your minutes-old daughter to give a proper response at the mention of your recently deceased husband. You pressed a kiss to your baby's forehead, letting the tears flow freely down your flushed cheeks. "Marie. Your name is Marie."

***

"Easy now, Princess," Ezra whispered against the Duchess' ear. "I've got you."

She lolled her head back against Ezra's shoulder as he helped her up the stairs.

"Rion?" she whispered, reaching for the man just to her left.

"Shh, Princess, up you get," he urged as he sat her on the edge of the bed. "Aiden, grab her nightgown there off of that hook. Henry, grab her legs and swing them up on the bed. We need to get her out of this wet dress before she gets sick."

Ezra coughed nervously, trying to act as natural as he could as he pulled the Duchess' sopping wet day dress over her head. He looked off to the side, trying to preserve at least some of her dignity as she sat there in the light shift she wore. He cleared his throat as Aiden handed him the dry nightgown. "You boys go outside with your sister and keep her occupied. I can take it from here."

Henry started to protest but Ezra shook his head and gestured for them to leave. He grabbed Aiden's hand and pulled him towards the stairs.

Aiden pulled his hand away and looked at Ezra, tears brimming in his eyes. "Is mama going to be okay?"

Ezra looked at the Duchess and nodded once, his mouth set in a firm line. "Yes. She'll be just fine. Go on."

The boys looked at one another and then descended the stairs together.

"Rion?" she mumbled again, her whole body pitching forward to lean against Ezra's chest.

"Shhh," he soothed as he blushed and quickly removed the rest of her wet clothes before slipping the dry gown over her head. He propped her up against the pillows as best he could and covered her with the blankets from the bottom, doing his best to keep her warm. "Just rest."

***

"Oh, Edgar," the princess called, flagging down her mother the Queen's advisor. "Have you heard from my daughter? I thought for sure by now she would have radioed. It's been quite some time."

Edgar gave a fond smile and shook his head. "Milady, I've just spoken with her this morning. It seems as though the radio there hasn't been working properly. Her and the children arrived safely several weeks ago - Orville is tending to them while they go about their business."

"And they're alright?" she asked, wringing her hands.

"Oh yes, quite well," he replied. "They're getting along just fine. She asked about you and your mother as a matter of fact. I told her you both were still asleep. She regrets not calling later so she could speak with you."

The princess worried her lip between her teeth and nodded. "I wish she would have said something before running off like that. We have the Moon Feast in a few weeks. I know she's not fond of the Chancellor, but the two would get on well together if she gave him a chance. She could have just told me instead of taking the children and running away."

Edgar tutted lightly and smiled at the princess. He patted her lightly on the arm as he walked with her back to the drawing room. "I'm sure she is just trying to sort things out, my lady. Perhaps trying out that rebellious phase you had just said you were glad she had missed?" He chuckled, trying to alleviate any of her worries.

"She never grew out of her teenage years," the queen snapped from her chair in the corner. She gave a wracking cough and shuddered violently with the effort. "She hasn't been the same since Rion died."

"Mother, please be sympathetic," the princess tutted. She drew her shawl around her and sighed. "I fear you're rushing her to find a husband too quickly. She's not ready."

"It's been five damn years!" the queen spluttered. "She should be ready."

"You didn't pressure me into finding a husband when Vincent passed," she replied, crossing her arms indignantly.

"Oh, you were well past your prime, don't flatter yourself," the queen hissed, raising herself from the chair with great effort. She had gotten so frail in the last few years, and the stress of this whole ordeal wasn't making it any easier on her. If word got out that the young Duchess had run off, neighboring dominions would converge in an instant. "You had but one child of marrying age yourself. Why would someone choose you over her?"

The princess turned back to the bay window overlooking the garden, pointedly ignoring her mother's comments. "Edgar, if she calls again, you will wake me at once. I don't care how early it is. Understood?"

"Of course, milady," he replied with a bow. "Will there be anything else?"

The princess dismissed him with a wave of her hand. She sighed softly and looked back out towards the garden her daughter loved so much.

From this window, she could see her daughter's wing of the palace, uninhabited, curtains drawn in all the windows. "Something doesn't feel right about this. She would have called, even if she were cross with us."

The queen huffed and hobbled over to her desk. She lowered herself down and picked up a pen. "If she were grateful, she wouldn't have run off."

"She is grateful, mother--"

"Let me finish, child," the queen snapped. "She is grateful. And she wouldn't have just vanished like this, you're absolutely right."

"Mother--"

"I am agreeing with you, girl. Don't start," she said. "I am going to put a letter out to Thom. He should be able to check on her. See if Edgar is telling the truth."

"Your military strategist? You're sure he can be trusted with something like this?"

The queen snorted and coughed again. "My girl, I trust Thom more than I trust most people. I wouldn't worry. He'll know what to do."

"You don't think that Edgar would--"

"Keep your mouth closed, girl," the queen hissed. "These walls have sensitive ears."

***

You awoke with a startled gasp, one hand flying to your chest. The ragged breath sounded wet and crackled like a sickness in your lungs. You coughed, trying to clear fluid from your throat. It felt like you were suffocating.

"Princess, Kevva be praised," a worried voice said. A warm hand gripped your shoulder and helped steady you as you sat up further in the bed.

You saw Rion's anxious face, blurry and swirling in front of you. He touched your cheek, his rough fingers warm against your skin. You felt so cold.

"Rion?" you whispered. You blinked a few times as your eyes adjusted to the light.

"Shh, it's alright," he murmured, still touching your cheek. "Just rest. You're safe.

As your eyes adjusted, your heart sank. It was not Rion, but Ezra. Your heart skipped a beat when you realized how close he was to you. Ezra. You smiled weakly before you coughed again and fell back against the pillows.

***

You opened your eyes and rolled over onto your side in the soft grass. The spring flowers were coming in, their sweet perfume coming and going with the gentle breeze.

"You look like a goddess like this," Ezra said softly. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and caressed the swell of your cheek with his thumb. "My own personal idol."

You blushed under the praise and smiled as you slid closer to him. When you placed your hand on his chest, he pressed a kiss to your forehead. You hummed at the affection and closed your eyes.

"I didn't want to wake you, Duchess," he said. "But we need to head home."

Your eyes shot open at his words and you sat up. "What did you call me?"

Ezra slowly pushed himself upright and looked over at you. "Duchess. That is your appropriate title, if I am not mistaken?"

"Th-that..." you stammered, looking all around. "You never call me Duchess. You call me--"

"Princess, can you hear me?" Ezra murmured, cupping your cheek.

"Wh-what?" you asked as your fingers curled around his wrist.

"You gotta wake up," he said. "Please, wake up."

You jolted awake with a gasp, your chest heaving with effort. "Ezra!"

"I'm here, Princess," he soothed, his fingers carding through your hair. "I'm right here."

"The children?" you whispered, trying to crane your neck to look around him. "Where are my children?"

"Outside playing," he replied, glancing over his shoulder towards the window. "Though I expect they're right below the window there. I kicked them out a few hours ago."

"Hours? What happened?"

"The bridge collapsed and took you with it," he explained. "I expect you cracked your head somewhere on the way down, sucked in a good lungful of water too."

You tried to move with a groan and Ezra pushed you back down. A dull pain shot up your leg and you hissed through your teeth.

"What is it? What hurts?"

"My leg," you groaned, reaching down to pull the blanket off.

"It was caught under a branch," he said softly. "Lucky for you it kept you rooted in one spot and kept you from getting swept away until I got you. I was able to pull you free."

"You saved me?" you croaked, holding onto his hand.

He nodded. "I did," he said softly. "Had a hell of a time with it too. Swimming is, regrettably, not one of my strengths. I reckon I fared only slightly better than you did, Princess."

You chuckled weakly and settled back against the pillows. The events of the afternoon swirled around your head, trying to patch themselves together. Everything had happened so quickly and you were still unsure how it all went down. All you knew was that Ezra had saved your life.

"Thank you," you whispered. "I truly won't ever be able to thank you enough for saving me, Ezra."

He tutted and picked at a fuzz on the quilt. Worry was still etched into his brow, a deep line cutting down the center of his forehead.

"You said the children are outside?" you asked. Through the open window, you thought you could make out the sounds of them playing.

Ezra nodded and stood up from the little stool with a pained groan. He walked towards the window and nodded. "They're by the barn with the kittens." He smiled and waved at them before turning to you.

"My ankle," you said, slowly pulling yourself into a more upright position, trying to take a look at your ankle. "Is it broken?"

He shook his head. "No, luckily for you. Badly twisted and bruised, but not broken."

"How did you get me home?" you asked. The word fell from your lips before you could stop it. Home. It felt so natural.

The bedroom door suddenly crashed open and the children came barreling into the room. Almost immediately they began to climb on the bed and into your lap, asking a million questions at once.

"I did have some help from your boys," he explained with a small laugh over the ruckus. He smiled at the chaos, and even more so at the way life returned to your face. "I admit I would have had a difficult time getting you home myself."

You kissed each of the boys cheeks and smiled broadly at them. "Oh, my heroes!"

Henry buried his face against your neck and hugged you tightly. You could feel his tears against your skin and you quietly sushed him, trying to reassure each of them that you were going to be alright.

Aiden was on your other side, happily nestled under your arm, resting his head against your chest. He was unusually quiet, tears threatening at the corners of his eyes.

You soothed each of them by running your hands through their hair and scratching your nails against their scalps. "It's alright, little ones. It's alright."

Marie sniffled and pressed your face against your breast. You knew she probably hadn't stopped crying since it happened.

"Oh, little bug, I'm alright," you hummed, kissing the top of her head. Her hair was warm from the sunlight outside and you smiled gently.

"Mama," she whispered. "I love you."

"Oh, I love you," you said. "So much. So very, very much."

Ezra stayed quiet for a minute before he cleared his throat to get their attention. "Alright, little birds, why don't you go find some pretty flowers for your mama," he suggested. "Mind her leg now."

As the children murmured in agreement, they climbed off your lap and off the bed. They looked back at you and you waved your hand at them. "Go ahead, I'll be down in a few moments. And mind my garden by the shed! They aren't ready to be picked yet!"

The children smiled and tried to race one another down the steps. You heard them shouting at one another as they ran outside.

You and Ezra both chuckled as he moved to sit beside you again. He looked far less worried now, but that deep line still marred his brow. As you looked closely at him, you noticed a silvery scar on his left cheek, half-moon shaped and long healed. You raised your hand to touch it and he startled a bit at the action.

"I'm sorry," you said softly. "I just never noticed your scar before."

Ezra reached up to touch the thin scar and chuckled at the memory of it. "Oh, this was nothing but a school yard fight at the academy I attended as a boy. Federation-run, so not much in the way of administration. Easy for other boys to gang up on the runts. No one cared one way or another whether we lived or died."

"That's awful," you said softly.

He shrugged. "That's generally what happens to Floaters. Ones with no family at that. Scoop 'em all up and throw them away. Out of sight out of mind."

"You didn't have a family?" you asked.

"I did, at one point, have a family, yes," he replied. "I was from Rowan originally. My dad worked on deposit farms. My mother, see, she had a little girl not long after me. Tiniest thing, according to my dad. I believe her name was to be Eudora. I never met the little thing. That tore her right up. She couldn't handle it anymore. Next thing I knew, my dad and I were drifting, Floaters. He got sick a sprint or two later, couldn't pull through." Ezra's voice sounded thick and he swallowed once to clear it.

You frowned and touched his arm. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry."

Ezra shrugged and blinked away any tears that collected in his dark eyes. "Speaking of prying - it's my turn, Princess. You kept mumbling a name when you were going in and out. Rion. Care to share with an old harvester like myself?"

You took a deep breath and nodded. If he could share his story, you supposed you could share yours with him.

"Rion," you murmured, smiling at the memory of his name. "He was my husband. He was killed about five years ago on La Won while I was only a few months out from having Marie."

Ezra leaned forward, urging you to continue. He held your hand and squeezed it reassuringly as you told your story. He rubbed his thumb against your knuckles, mindlessly drawing patterns between the bones.

When you had finished, he sat back with a breath and shook his head. "I am so sorry for your loss, Princess. I truly am."

You smiled and put your hand over his and traced a series of scars and callouses on his palm.

"It's been so long," you said softly. "And I was sad for a long, long time. My grandmother tried to push me to remarry, but my mother was heartily opposed to it. I felt trapped between them for a while."

"And you are for or against it? Remarriage, that is?" he asked.

"I am not unopposed to the idea," you murmured. You felt a blush creep up over your cheeks and smiled a bit.

"Mama!" Marie shouted from the doorway. "We got you some pretty flowers! You gotta come see!" She sprinted back down the stairs at full speed, yelling to her brothers.

Ezra smiled and shook his head. "I suppose that's our cue to head downstairs? Are you sure you're feeling up to it?"

"Oh, of course. Lead the way," you smiled, offering your hand for him to help you out of bed. He shouldered your weight and lifted you out of bed with a smile.

*******************

TAGLIST: If you want to be added, please let me know!

@the-feckless-wonder @gallowsjoker @phoenixhalliwell @huliabitch @lestrange2703 @miscellaneous-mando

#prospect #ezra x reader #ezra x you #no use of y/n #my writing #pedro pascal #poetry for an heiress

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writer-and-artist27 · 4 years ago

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Untimely Reunion

Summary: No one but the only Master in Chaldea’s staff could really make sense of the new Berserker Servant. He was much larger than any other Heroic Spirit, but the machinery and horse-like body showed he wasn’t a figure from Proper Human History. The last thing anyone expected was for him to be an Achilles’ Heel to their newest Crypter enemy.

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Note: This was inspired by my pulling of Xiang Yu in the gacha before even starting Lostbelt 3’s story. I had him in my party when first fighting Akuta Hinako and her Saber Servant, so I wanted to cover a possible version of how the fight would’ve gone had Xiang Yu saw our opponent with his own eyes.

Consider this to take place after all my other FGO oneshots, with MASSIVE HEAVY spoilers for Lostbelt 3: SIN. Also, CW for heavy angst and the occasional use of language. This has been unedited and written on a passing muse’s whims.

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Saber had leapt back into the fields of wheat, panting after taking two Noble Phantasms head on. Hinako clenched her teeth, tempted to bite the fingernail on her thumb. Of course he’d be weak. Those two attacks were stronger than anticipated.

Hell, Chaldea was more powerful than Hinako anticipated. From using a swimsuit version of what appeared to be the King of Knights (what the hell) together with the hero known for slaying Karna in a tag-team combo formation, no wonder Chaldea had defeated Ophelia and Kadoc. Vy, even when poisoned, was still alive and going strong, staring at Hinako with a determined look in her bespectacled eyes. Gao Changgong’s condition, from the sweat dotting his neck to the awkward way he was holding his sword, clearly showed that Hinako had brought the battle to Chaldea far too soon.

Goddammit.

“Is that all?” Vy said in an uncharacteristically gentle voice, standing to Mash’s right side as she clenched her right fist. All three of her Command Spells glowed in the sunlight, exuding confidence as her eyebrows narrowed. “Because if you want to keep fighting, Hinako-san, I can do this all day. Poison or not.”

Hinako did her best to not huff, channeling all her disgust and anger into returning Vy’s gaze. “Take your win for now, Chaldea. I underestimated you,” she said instead, shaking her head. “Saber.”

Gao Changgong stood to attention. “Yes, Master.”

“We’re retreating.” We need to come up with a better plan so that the Emperor does not deem me unworthy…

“Of course, Master.”

The last thing Hinako expected before Saber could run and grab her was that voice.

“YU MEI-REN!”

Every single drop of her blood froze. No. No. No one on Chaldea’s side should know that name. Hinako had discarded that name eons ago. Right now, Hinako was still—

Wait. Kadoc had mentioned that Vy had summoned a Lostbelt Servant before his Lostbelt had fallen. Scathach-Skadi, the Lostbelt King of Scandinavia — she had gone about cursing Kadoc and his Servant the entire time before Russia’s Tree of Emptiness was cut down, contrasting the gentle demeanor she seemed to have according to Ophelia. So... could it be? Could Vy really have that kind of luck again?

Against Gao Changgong’s urgent cry of, “Master!”, Hinako turned her head and found herself staring into green eyes.

The figure was tall and hulking just like his counterpart in this Lostbelt, but exuding power and gentleness that she couldn’t mistake for anyone else.

Vy had stepped to the side of the large Servant, her own brown eyes wide past her glasses as she murmured, “Berserker…?” in a respectful and shocked tone.

“My wife,” Xiang Yu whispered softly, one of his hooves making a heap of dirt in the field they were in as he stepped forward. “Even after all these years, I still can recognize you, Yu Mei-ren, new clothes or not. My only consort, the only woman I ever loved. But my wife, what are you doing? And…” The hulking Servant paused, his gaze going over to Saber before his eyes widened, his glowing green maw dropping for a moment in surprise. “Gao Su too?”

“No…” Saber whispered weakly. He must have recognized the severity of the situation too. “Why are you with them? I could have sworn that you were still with—”

With us.

Hinako felt tears start to bud in the corners of her eyes. She had only seen the Lostbelt version of him mere seconds ago. But now, seeing this version of him, at Vy’s side, better armed, far stronger and more majestic… “Lord Xiang Yu.”

The Berserker Servant smiled wryly at her, his green eyes soft in spite of his opposing figure. “My wife. I see you are still wandering.”

“Wha—”

Mash Kyrielight was looking between all three of them with growing shock, her jaw slowly dropping before she turned to Vy. “M-Master, what is going on? Why is he calling Akuta—”

“I-I don’t know,” Vy’s voice came out wispy in the reply. “Berserker just moved forward on his own, and…” She put a hand over her heart, pressing her palm against her Winter Mystic Code. “It feels like he knows her somehow.”

Sherlock Holmes had a hand to his chin, already looking like he was deducing what was going on. Bastard.

“Yu Mei-ren, you are not the kind of person to go along with a crusade that would doom everything,” Xiang Yu continued, not minding the side chatter as his hooves went about tapping the ground underneath him in a familiar melancholic tune. “I remember you being so much kinder than that. Why are you assisting the enemy?”

Hinako was shivering. “But, but, Xiang Yu, it was for…” The shock was slowly turning to anger. Why? Why why why, why? Why couldn’t she have summoned someone else? Why did the last Master of Chaldea have to summon him— “VY!”

Vy jumped about a centimeter into the air, all attention having gone back to her. “What?”

“How—” Hinako grit her teeth. “How dare you!?”

“How dare I what?” Vy filled in with the slightest bit of sarcasm, giving Hinako an incredulous look. “How dare I live? How dare I summon Berserker? You realize you helped in destroying the world I’m currently trying to save, right? Not to mention that one of your fellow allies/cronies poisoned me? Kinda not in the mood for—”

“SAVE YOUR BULLSHIT!” Spittle flew out of Hinako’s mouth just as Saber rose to take her into his arms, his grip shaky and frantic. Vy fell silent as she stared back at Hinako in surprise. “To summon him and use him for your own gains, you’re a monster! HOW DARE YOU USE HIM AGAINST ME!”

“Er, I have no clue what you’re talking about,” Vy added in a quieter voice, barely hitting the inflections of a deadpan. “I just summoned him two days ago.”

So before Chaldea had even entered China. GODDAMMIT.

“Yu Mei-ren…” Xiang Yu said softly. “You’re wrong. I willingly came to her, not in the manner of what you are thinking—”

“Silence, pretender. Do not call me by that name.”

The Berserker flinched, but still took to drawing one of his swords and holding it protectively in front of Vy. Hinako bit the inside of her cheek hard enough to taste iron. Whywhywhywhy, why. It shouldn’t have been like this.

Lord Xiang Yu wasn’t supposed to be drawing one of his weapons on her—

“Master,” Saber said urgently, his one hand on her shoulders clenching tightly. “We have to go.”

“Yu—”

“E-Enough of this.” Hinako forced herself to look away, burying her face into the front of Gao Changgong’s clothes. She already knew that if she looked at that Servant any longer, she would be tempted to cry. “Even if you look like him, you are nothing but an imposter of someone I know. Saber, we’re retreating. NOW.”

“As… As you wish, Master,” he said hesitantly, tightening his grip on Hinako’s figure. “May… May we meet again, Lord Xia— Berserker.”

Hinako held back a scream of anguish once Saber took the first leap away from those fields.

#fate grand order #vy plays fate grand order #writing #oneshot #cosmos in the lostbelt #tw: language #tw: long post #long post #xiang yu #akuta hinako #prince of lanling

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maxgrayarchived · 4 years ago

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Find The Word Tag Game

wooo this is my favourite tag game, you can do it over and over again and it’ll never be the same twice

Tagged by @spacetimewraithwrites and you should check out their game here because my god their writing

My words were shield, massive, gray/grey, and honest. I’m going to try to get them all from Superkids but we’ll see lol.

Shield: Superkids

There was always something different about the way Roman held [Patton] when he was upset. He had the same habits he did when he was five years old, when he would wrap his arms around Patton’s middle like she was a teddy bear and cover as much of her skin as he could, like he was trying to shield her from something. Patton blamed Roman for her dependency on her weighted blanket- She could only sleep without it if she was sleeping with him.

platonic cuddles yaaaay

Massive Huge: Superkids

They looked between each other, and Pyro raised an eyebrow. “We can just use our powers for fun you know.”

“Yeah.” Lei teleported in front of Virgil, stole his coffee, and teleported by Pyro’s side. “I use mine all the time.”

“But don’t you have to save your energy? In case something happens?”

“Using your powers all the time is the only way to build up your energy,” Kai said, looking annoyed.

“Use your powers casually,” Pyro said. “Huge difference.”

“Hm.” Virgil held his arms out and, with great concentration, they were encased in huge, shadowy tentacles. He used one to flick Lei, sending her flying back, and the other to save his coffee. He took a sip as his tentacles dissipated.

somehow every ‘massive’ was uhh massive spoilers and i didn’t have it in Drive sooo I had change it sorry rip. also yeah i used ‘huge’ twice in one excerpt, that shit’s unedited, leave me alone

Gray: Superkids

“Get something to cover your face. Anything.”

Virgil dropped the clothes and yanked open the closet doors just as the front door came down with a terrifying crack. His entire body was alight with fear and adrenaline, and while most days it would be debilitating, cause him to collapse to the ground and give up, he found himself moving faster than ever before, energy crawling over his skin.

He reached up to the top shelf and pulled down what looked to be a Halloween mask— a creepy gray alien with big eyes. He tugged, and it caught. Footsteps pounded up the stairs. He pulled hard. Inside with a small bag, the piggy bank thunked on the carpet.

Virgil shoved it into his back and pulled on the mask.

“Jump out the window!”

Virgil threw a shadow at the window, and it shattered. He swung his legs over the windowsill and didn’t think, just fell.

uhhh “inside with a small bag” no i have absolutely no idea what i was trying to say there or which word i wrote wrong, just ignore it

Honest: Superkids

“Well I want you to know that I’m sorry.” Ophelia pressed her face to Roman’s hair. “If anything were to happen to you… Anything really serious… I would never forgive myself if it happened while you were still mad at me.” She set the ice packs on the counter and turned to look Roman in the face. “I’m sorry for being so harsh. I wanted to be honest with you, but it was cruel. There are some things you don’t want or need to hear. I’m sorry for forcing that on you.”

okay uhhh new words: tea, dust, sunlight, sleep, annnnnnnd touch

tagggign uhhhh @shaelinwrites @gloriafrimpong @avi-burton-writing annndndnndndd @ettawritesnstudies

#maxgraybooks #superkids #writeblr

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cakesunflower · 5 years ago

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Quiet Hours [College!Luke AU] Ch. 15

Chapter 15

LUKE WAS ALL sorts of pissed off; the kind that had his jaw aching from clenching it so hard and hands perpetually formed into fists to prevent himself from punching something. He was familiar with this type of anger, the one that stemmed from betrayal and hurt that skipped right past being upset and festered in the stage of something akin to hatred. Luke never thought he could truly hate someone, but not for the first time he was debating against that idea when it came to the two people he was thinking about.

“Just don’t go,” Ashton shrugged, looking at Luke as if he didn’t understand what the big deal was. “Then you won’t have to see them.”

Luke shot his friend an aggravated look. “It’s my nan’s seventy-fifth birthday, Ashton. I have to go.” If he didn’t love his grandmother so much, Luke would just spend the weekend on campus instead of going home to celebrate with his family—which included his cousin Max and Luke’s ex—and Max’s current—girlfriend Gwen. He was in no mood to see the two of them flaunt a relationship that was created at the expense of Luke’s heartbreak.

“Take someone with you as your date,” Michael suggested from where he sat at the kitchen counter, busy on his laptop as he did an assignment. He then glanced up, looking at Luke, who sat on the couch. “And by someone I mean Ophelia.”

Glancing at his friend, Luke furrowed his eyebrows at Michael’s proposition. Propping his right elbow on the armrest of the couch, Luke used his fingers to worry at his lower lip as he thought about the idea. It wasn’t a terrible idea to bring Ophelia to the party, but introducing her to his family seemed to be a bit too soon, especially since they only just figured things out to be together. He didn’t want to use her as a way of spiting Max and Gwen to show that he was fine after what happened. He didn’t miss Gwen, by any means, but he was still pissed. Still hurt.

Ophelia didn’t even know about Luke’s ex, Gwen, cheating on him with his own cousin and Luke didn’t want to just tell her so she would come with him just to show the two people that betrayed him that he was better off—even if he was. Luke wasn’t comfortable with using Ophelia in that type of way, but maybe if he told her then she wouldn’t be offended. She’d understand.

So that’s why Luke was now knocking on the apartment door next to his, smiling as the door swung open to reveal Laurel. He was glad to see she was okay after what happened at the party a few days ago, and the pain in his knuckles that had followed was worth it. “Hey,” he greeted the blonde. “Is Ophelia here?”

Laurel opened the door wider, nodding inside the apartment. “She’s in her room,” she chuckled, earning a thanks from Luke as he wandered in and heard Laurel shut the door behind him. He waved at Tanya, who was munching on a bag of Cheetos as she watched The Bachelor on TV, before wandering down the hall and stopping in front of Ophelia’s closed door.

He knocked twice, hearing her call out, “come in,” before opening the door and stepping inside the familiar bedroom. Luke saw Ophelia laying sideways on her bed, watching something on her laptop. When her eyes landed on Luke, she paused her show and sat up. “Hey,” she smiled, crossing her legs.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Luke greeted, shutting the door behind him. The blinds were open, sunlight streaming in and drenching the small plants on the windowsill. “You busy? Wanted to ask you something.”

Ophelia shook her head, tilting it to the side curiously. “What’s going on?”

The Australian sat down on the bed, sliding off his slippers to sit cross legged right in front of her. He didn’t know why he felt so nervous. Ophelia was one of the sweetest people Luke knew, and if he explained himself he was sure she’d understand. “Okay, um,” he began, clearing his throat as fingers absently twirled one of his rings. “I have to go home this weekend for my grandma’s birthday and, uh.” He stopped briefly, but the encouraging raise of Ophelia’s eyebrows prompted him to continue, “my ex is gonna be there with my cousin and I was hoping you’d come with me because I just—I don’t wanna deal with them, y’know?”

Ophelia blinked at Luke, hazel eyes slightly widened in shock. Then, she blurted, “your ex is dating your cousin?”

Luke didn’t blame her expression as a humorless smile tilted at his lips. “Cheated on me with him, actually.”

This time her jaw dropped, completely taken aback. Honestly, she genuinely didn’t understand how or why someone would cheat on Luke. Other than him being confusing at times, Luke was a great guy to be around. It was no secret that Ophelia adored him; adored him as a person and was obsessed with the way he looked at, kissed, and touched her. To Ophelia, Luke was unfairly perfect, if she didn’t consider the mess it had been for the two of them to acknowledge their feelings—though she could be partly blamed for that too—so why someone would cheat on him was beyond her. Luke had Ophelia entranced by just his gaze, feeling excitedly powerless against him in the most enjoyable of ways, so leaving him for someone else sounded ridiculous.

She was also kind of flattered that Luke wanted her to come with him. The most they’d done was confess to each other that they wanted to be together—did that mean they were together? Ophelia wasn’t sure, but she found herself kind of okay with that. Because she told Luke she wanted to be with him after he’d told her the same, and with assurance, that was enough for now. Ophelia figured that Luke asking her to come with him was to distract himself from watching his ex-girlfriend be all over his cousin, and a nagging voice in the back of her mind wondered if there were still unresolved feelings on Luke’s part.

But the hopeful expression on his face, the way he chewed his lower lip and blue eyes seemed a bit worried, had Ophelia giving Luke a small smile as she shrugged. “Yeah, sure, I’ll come,” she finally said, watching as Luke’s eyes widened slightly.

“Really?” he questioned, brows risen. He hadn’t really expected for her to say yes right away—not that he was complaining. As soon as her answer had registered in his mind, Luke felt his heart do an excited leap. “I—you don’t have to if you don’t want to. I don’t want you to think I’m usin’ you to make my ex jealous or anything. It’s just that I don’t wanna show up alone and her be—”

“Luke, stop,” Ophelia cut him off with an airy laugh, finding it endearing how he was suddenly a nervous rambling mess. While she was still trying to work out if Luke had any feelings left for this ex of his—and bitterly hoping that he didn’t because that would kind of suck—Ophelia felt a small sense of relief at his reassurance. He looked genuine in the matter. “I don’t mind. No offense, but your ex sounds like a bitch and your cousin a dick for doing that to you. I’m happy to go with you.”

She felt her heart do that giddy flutter in her chest at the sight of the relieved smile that stretched on Luke’s lips, dimples appearing under the dark blonde facial hair that decorated his sharp jaw and around his mouth as his hands reached forward and grasped hers gratefully. “Thank you, darling,” he breathed out, squeezing Ophelia’s smaller hands. “You’ve no idea how much this means to me. I swear I’ll make it up to you when it’s over.”

Ophelia’s lips pressed together, the corners of her mouth tilting upwards as she grabbed her laptop and reached over to rest it on her bedside, eyes meeting Luke’s. Her smile turned slightly coy, hand that was still holding onto Luke’s as she used it to tug him closer. “You can start now,” she suggested boldy with a quirk of a brow, her smile widening as Luke mirrored her expression, not even hesitating to lean towards her as he immediately picked up on what she was saying.

A low, throaty chuckle escape Luke, though it was silenced the second Ophelia’s hands grasped Luke’s face and pulled his lips to hers, feeling the familiar thrilling shock course through her body as his soft lips met hers. Luke smiled against her mouth, never tired of kissing Ophelia as he got on his knees and grasped the back of Ophelia’s, using his grip to unfold her legs and pull her towards him. She effectively slid down, left hand going to the back of Luke’s neck as she laid down on the mattress and pulled Luke on top of her. Her heart rang in her ears and her body grew warm in excitement as Luke deepened the kiss, feeling his tongue against hers and the ends of his curly hair tickle her face as he hovered above her.

As he kissed her, hands sliding under her shirt and prompting Ophelia’s heart to skip a beat at the feel of his cool rings against her warmed skin, Luke couldn’t help but notice the change of taste in her lips. “Changed your watermelon chapstick for strawberry, huh?” Luke murmured against her mouth, supporting himself on top of her with his arms as he trailed open mouthed kisses along her jaw.

Ophelia let out a breathless laugh, eyes shut as she reveled in the scratch of his beard against her skin, fingers threading through Luke’s curly locks. “Yeah,” she whispered, heart thudding rapidly in her chest as she felt Luke lightly bite at the spot that connected her jaw and neck, “you like it?”

“Mhm,” Luke let out a deep hum, bringing his mouth back to cover Ophelia’s, licking at her lower lip as he smirked, “love strawberries,” before grasping the hem of her shirt and tugging it upwards.

Ophelia grinned, a pretty flush across her face that made Luke’s heart drum thuddingly as she leaned up slightly to allow Luke to fling it right off of her. The immediate tightening in his sweatpants could be felt against Ophelia’s clothed core as Luke let out a deep breath, blue eyes trained on her bare chest as his hands immediately came up to grasp her full breasts. “No bra?” he smirked, watching in satisfaction as Ophelia arched into his touch, eyes closed and sharp breath expelling from her parted pouty lips. Luke leaned down, keeping his gaze trained on Ophelia’s pleasured expression as he let his lower lip drag against her perky pink nipple, mumbling, “you’re too good to me, pretty girl.”

The way her head tilted back, exposing the expanse of her neck as a soft moan escaped her begged Luke to get rid of his sweatpants as soon as possible. But he took his time, wrapping his lips around her nipple while his right hand ever so slightly squeezed the soft plush of her other breast. One of Ophelia’s hands were at the back of his head, fingers gripping his curls while her other pushed back her own hair from her forehead and teeth sunk to her lower lip to stop any sounds from escaping. Her roommates were still in the apartment, after all.

“Come on, Luke,” Ophelia finally breathed out, her voice uncharacteristically raspy from the pleasure his mouth and hand were delivering to her chest. Luke watched as she opened her eyes, hazel eyes darkened with pleasure as she begged, “get down to it already, please.”

Luke wasn’t one to deny her what she wanted, though when he lifted his head he kept his lips wrapped around Ophelia’s nipple, teasing it lightly with his teeth. Ophelia dropped her head back, muttering a soft, “oh, God,” as Luke smirked to himself before sliding down even more, letting his fingers hook into the band of her night shorts and pull it down her legs as he went.

Luke let out a throaty groan when he realized Ophelia was completely naked in front of him and completely ready for whatever Luke was about to do to her. But Luke couldn’t help but stop for a moment, sitting on his knees at the sight of the breathtakingly gorgeous girl laying on the bed. Whether she was naked, in sweats or dressed up—Ophelia managed to take Luke’s breath away and cease the beating of his heart in half a second. She was flawless in his eyes, and Luke found himself wondering how he got lucky enough to have someone like her interested in him.

When Ophelia let out another small whimper, Luke was thrown back into reality and he instantly reached to the back of his shirt, taking it off and discarding it somewhere on the floor before pulling of his sweatpants. The room was slightly cold, but goosebumps had no chance of raising on his skin at the brilliant heat he felt spreading throughout his body at the sight of Ophelia and the anticipated thrill of being inside of her in a matter of moments.

“Wait,” Ophelia suddenly said, reluctantly leaning up on her elbows and reaching over to pull open her bedside drawer. Luke watched, eyes following the lines and curves of her gorgeous body, before Ophelia tossed the royal blue packet towards him. He caught it, mentally berating himself for forgetting the condom as he used his teeth to rip open the corner of the packet.

His gaze was fixated on Ophelia, her chest rising and falling in eagerness while she watched through a hooded gaze as Luke slid the condom on, a hiss escaping pass his teeth at the feel of the latex. Luke leaned to hover over Ophelia once more, right arm supporting him once more as his left hand lined his shaft up to her awaiting entrance. Their hearts were thundering, which was ironic because they’ve done this a number of times yet the thrilled beating of their hearts and the dizzy pleasure they got in their heads never ceased.

Luke’s head was above hers, curly hair curtaining his cheeks as Ophelia’s right hand reached up to push it back, fingers tangled in and their breaths mingling together as Luke’s blue eyes locked with her hazel. “Ready, sweetheart?”

Ophelia nodded quickly, humming her agreement after hearing Luke’s words over the pounding in her ears, though she still felt the smile twitch at her lips. It immediately disappeared, replaced by her eyes shutting and lips parting with a quiet moan as Luke entered her swiftly, familiarly, his guttural groan joining in with the sweet sounds she was making as his forehead dropped to rest against Ophelia’s. “Fuck,” he rasped, unsure if he would ever get used to the way she felt around him, so ready and so fucking amazing, eyes squeezing shut. “Feel so good, pretty girl,” he couldn’t help but add, pulling out just a bit after she nodded in approval before jutting his hips forward once more, swallowing the moan that escaped Ophelia by pressing his lips to hers.

The movements of his hips meeting hers were slow, purposeful, and Ophelia’s arms looped under Luke’s, pulling him down on her and nails scraping down his muscled back that had yet another deep groan sounding from Luke’s throat. Their lips moved together bruisingly, every sense filled with each other as their bare chests pressed together while their tongues met. Ophelia felt that familiar overwhelmness she felt every time she and Luke were joined together so intimately, incredulous at how dizzyingly fantastic it felt to have him fill her up so completely. Every thrust had her heart threatening to burst out of her chest, and every whispered encouragement from Luke intensified the warmth on her face and prompted even more quiet moans of Luke’s name to spill from her lips.

It wasn’t long until both of them could feel the recognizable clenching in the pits of their stomachs, Ophelia’s legs that had wrapped around Luke’s hips to deepen the feel of him beginning to shake as he effectively brought her closer to the edge. “Oh, God, Luke,” Ophelia groaned against his mouth, their lips pink and swollen from the kisses they refused to end. “I’m gon—”

Their noses brushed together, Luke not letting up from the thrusts of his hips into Ophelia’s as her nails on his back egged him on, heart thumping and ring clad fingers clenching the bed sheets next to her head. “Let go for me, sweetheart,” Luke croaked, accent thickening as he buried his face in the crook of Ophelia’s neck. He breathed in her familiar fruity scent as her hands pressed against his back at the feel of his beard scraping her skin. The tension that had built up in their bodies finally released explosively as Ophelia’s back arched and teeth clamped on the skin of Luke’s shoulder.

Both of their bodies pulsed shakily, heavy breaths and moans they attempted to keep quiet falling past their lips as head spinning orgasms igniting their skin yet slowly loosened the tightness of their limbs. Once spent, the room full of the sounds of their heavy breathing, Luke found himself laying on top of Ophelia, still inside her yet not being able to bring it in himself to move just yet. Ophelia didn’t mind, eyes closed and a blissfully pleased smile tilting at her lips as her hands remained on Luke’s back. “Just so you know,” she found herself speaking, her voice still a whisper as she tried to catch her breath. “I still expect a little something after the weekend.”

Luke’s broad shoulders shook as a deep chuckle rumbled, face still buried in her neck as Ophelia felt his lips press a kiss at the skin there. “Absolutely,” he murmured back, before his arms slid around her bare back to swiftly flip them on the bed, earning a startled yelp from Ophelia as she was now suddenly on top—with Luke still inside of her.

They got rid of the used condom, throwing it in the trash as Ophelia remained laying on top of Luke, bringing her blanket up to cover their bare, spent bodies. She felt so small against his broad chest, laying with her cheek pressed against it as she felt the tips of his fingers lightly trail down the expanse of her back, the soothing gesture along with the thrum of his heartbeat making her eyes flutter closed. Ophelia smiled sleepily—she definitely wasn’t going to get tired of sex with Luke.

*******

Luke’s mother was the sweetest woman Ophelia had ever met. From the moment Luke and Ophelia showed up at the doorstep of his home, Liz Hemmings was all smiles as she hugged and kissed her son before greeting Ophelia with a motherly hug as well. She then had one of Luke’s older brothers, Ben, take her bag upstairs to the guest room before dragging Ophelia into the kitchen, asking if she wanted anything to eat.

Ophelia and Luke were the first to arrive at his house, and since his home was a near three hour drive from campus, the two were spending the night instead of making a total of a six hour trip in one day. Her stuff was in the guest room, much to the disappointment of Luke, but Ophelia didn’t mind—sharing a bed with Luke lately ended up in sex and Ophelia didn’t think it was a good idea to do that with Luke’s family under the same roof.

“Your mom’s adorable,” Ophelia commented once she joined Luke in the backyard, where the party was mostly set up. It was November but it was still warm enough on this particular day to have an outdoor party—Ophelia would fight anyone who said climate change wasn’t a real thing. “She’s into photography?”

She had noticed the Nikon camera the blonde woman had hanging from her neck, one hand almost always on it as if she was always prepared to take a picture. Luke chuckled, ripping open a bag of Tostitos and emptying it out in a bowl on one of the lawn tables that were set up outside. “When she’s not teaching math, she’s taking pictures,” he nodded in confirmation as he crumpled up the bag in his hands. “She’s pretty good, too.”

“Does she do it professionally?” Ophelia asked, hugging her cardigan closer to her as a light breeze blew past. It was warm out, but the occasional wind rose goosebumps on her skin.

“On the side, yeah,” Luke nodded, glancing over Ophelia’s shoulder as his older brother Jack walked out and towards a Bluetooth speaker set up on the side, connecting his phone before a Duran Duran song began playing. “Oi, Jack, when’s everyone gettin’ here?”

“Aunt Penny and the others just got here,” Jack responded, shooting Ophelia a friendly grin before going back inside the house.

Turning to look back at Luke, Ophelia raised an eyebrow. “Do you have a lot of family in the States?” she asked, a question she had been wondering about but never really prodded Luke on. He was Australian, obviously, but she didn’t know that he had lots of relatives here in New Jersey.

“My dad’s side, yeah,” Luke told her as he led her across the yard towards the backdoor. “He grew up in America and wanted to go to uni in Sydney so he moved back, met Mum, and then when I was five we moved here.”

“Your accent’s pretty thick for someone who grew up in America,” Ophelia teased, feeling her heart flutter happily as Luke draped his right arm over her shoulders to pull her closer as they walked.

Luke chuckled, left hand running through his curls as his boots thudded more heavily than Ophelia’s as they got to the porch. “Spent a lot of my vacations back in Aus, since Mum’s side of the family’s still there.”

Entering the house—Ophelia enjoyed the delicious smells of food inside—the two of them caught sight of a couple being greeted by Luke’s parents, as well as two young children running down the hall, squeals of laughter escaping them as they each latched onto Luke’s legs. “Wh—hey!” Luke laughed as Ophelia stepped to the side, a smile growing on her face as Luke bent down slightly to ruffle the tops of the two kids’ heads. Both blonde, one boy and one girl as they cutely grinned up at Luke. He mirrored their expression, blue eyes lighting up happily as he mused, “how’re you doin’, kiddos?”

“I missed you, Luke,” Luke’s eight year old cousin, Holly, smiled up at him as she and her twin brother, Jake, finally let go of Luke’s legs to let him stand properly.

“Yeah,” Jake piped up excitedly, and Ophelia crossed her arms over her chest as she watched them with a smile tugging on her lips. “You gonna play your guitar for us?” he then asked, and Ophelia noticed that unlike their older cousin, the two little kids were American—which, she figured, wasn’t surprising.

Luke chuckled, ruffling the little boy’s hair once more. “Maybe later, buddy,” he relented.

“Who are you?” Ophelia blinked at the sudden question directed towards her, eyes landing on Holly who was peering up at her with curious brown eyes, head tilted to the side.

Her brother looked up at Ophelia as well, both of them looking expectant as Ophelia’s lips parted, slightly taken aback at the sudden attention the two of them were giving her. Fortunately, Luke quickly swooped in, grinning, “this is my friend, Ophelia.” Crouching down to his knees, Luke put his arms around either of the twins’ shoulders, smiling up at the girl who was most definitely more than just a friend as he introduced, “Ophelia, these are my cousins Holly and Jake.”

“Hi,” Ophelia smiled at them, offering a small wave at the two children who easily returned her grin.

“Luke! Come say hi to Penny and Darrel!” Luke’s mother’s voice sounded, and the twenty-one year old ushered his younger cousins off to the backyard before meeting Ophelia’s gaze and nodded his head towards the front of the house, a silent request for her to follow him.

Luke’s aunt and uncle were gathered in the kitchen with his parents, immediately and excitedly pulling Luke into a hug as loud chatter filled the room. Ophelia stood idly, awkwardly by, making conversation with Jack’s girlfriend Celeste until Ophelia heard Luke’s aunt say, “oh, is that your girlfriend?”

Unable to help herself, Ophelia glanced where Luke stood with his aunt and uncle, taking it as her cue to introduce herself as she offered a smile. “Oh, uh,” Luke fumbled, earning quizzical looks from the two adults as Ophelia pressed her lips together. Luke’s blue eyes then met Ophelia’s hazel, and she saw something flash in his. There was a gentle look of realization that fluttered across his features, before a smile quirked at his lips and he looked back at his aunt and uncle. “Yeah, she is.”

What they were to each other wasn’t something Luke and Opehlia had discussed, but to hear him put a label on it had Ophelia’s heart jumping right into her throat. Whether it was officially or not, Ophelia felt a sense of relief flood through her at the thought that being his girlfriend was something Luke wanted.

Even if her presence at Luke’s house was mostly to be by his side whenever his cousin and ex-girlfriend showed up, Ophelia was glad to be there. Sure, she hadn’t really expected to meet his family already, but there was a warm contentment that engulfed her being in Luke’s home with him. So she smiled at each and every relative of Luke’s that arrived, more than happy to meet them. Especially his grandmother, who they were celebrating today, and Ophelia loved that the small woman was lively as ever. Particularly when she had Luke bend down so she could reach up and pinch his cheeks like he was a ten year old.

Most of the guests had arrived by three, the music playing through the speaker as they all gathered outside. Luke’s father was manning the grill and if people weren’t eating the hot dogs and burgers being made on that then they were munching on the different pastas, mashed potatoes, and other foods laid out. Luke’s dad had two brothers and a sister, so they were all here with their spouses and kids, the yard full of people chattering and having a good time—and every introduction included Luke telling them that Ophelia was his girlfriend.

The smile that pulled at her lips wasn’t something she could ever hope to stop when the word left his lips. She never missed the brightness in his blue eyes, either.

“Oh, Max, you’re here!” Luke’s aunt Hilarie exclaimed, catching Ophelia’s attention as she lowered her can of Coke and looked towards the woman. Hilarie was hugging a blonde boy, another girl standing on his other side that Ophelia couldn’t quite see as Hilarie continued, “I thought you’d never make it.”

“Sorry, Mom,” the boy, Max, laughed lightly, and Ophelia immediately blinked in realization as the name sunk in her mind. Her eyes darted around the yard, no longer paying attention to the conversation she was in with Celeste and another one of Luke’s aunts, before they finally landed on the boy she was looking for.

Ophelia’s grip tightened on her can nervously, conscious of the nearly empty plate of food she was balancing on her lap, as she caught sight of the look on Luke’s face. He may be standing on the other side of the yard, but she could make out thinning of his lips and furrow between his eyebrows, gaze fixated on the newly arrived people. It was them; the cousin and the ex-girlfriend, and Ophelia wondered if she should go over to Luke to distract him in some way. That’s what she was there for, right?

“Luke, dude! Haven’t seen you in a while, man!” Max’s voice rung out, and Ophelia blinked in mild alarm as the new guy wandered over to Luke, casual and calm as if nothing was wrong.

Unable to help herself, Ophelia’s eyes wandered towards the girl following Max, feeling insecurity tightening her throat at the leggy, dark skinned girl with shiny, straightened hair that made Ophelia’s nicely French braided one look like a bird’s nest. The girl, whom Ophelia knew to be Gwen, was gorgeous and Ophelia understood why Luke would ever date her. By looks alone, this girl was a stunner.

Though, Ophelia tried to make herself feel better because if Gwen left her boyfriend for her boyfriend’s cousin, then that doesn’t say many good things about the kind of person she was.

“Oh, God,” Ophelia heard Celeste mutter, the younger girl looking towards the dirty blonde haired woman, surprised to see Celeste staring towards Luke in apprehension. “I hope Luke doesn’t take a swing at Max again. Nan’s gonna be pissed if they ruin her birthday.”

Ophelia was taken aback, brows rising slightly as she asked, “Luke and Max fought before?”

Celeste turned her body to face Ophelia, Aunt Leslie now having a conversation with Liz, as she nodded. “Oh, yeah,” Celeste informed, hazel eyes widening like she was confiding a big secret. She wrung her fingers together as she continued, “when we all went to Aunt Hilarie’s house for Thanksgiving last year and Luke saw that Gwen was there as Max’s date, shit hit the fan. Luke broke Max’s nose, he was so pissed off. And rightfully so!” Celeste shook her head, face scrunching in distaste as her eyes locked with Ophelia’s. “You ask me, Gwen’s not worth it. She cheated on Luke to be with Max—I wouldn’t be surprised if she ended up cheating on him, too.”

Ophelia pressed her lips together, processing Celeste’s words as she straightened her back in the plastic lawn chair she was occupying. Truthfully, Ophelia wasn’t surprised that Luke punched out his cousin, but a little ball of dread did form in the pit of her stomach at the thought of it possibly happening again today. She may have only been here for a couple of hours, but Ophelia already adored Luke’s grandmother—and, God, she adored Luke, too. That being said, she didn’t want this day being spoiled by Luke and his cousin throwing fists at each other.

“I think Luke’s calling you.”

Blinking at Celeste in confusion, Ophelia followed the older girl’s gaze as she nodded forward, and Ophelia’s lips parted slightly in realization as she caught sight of Luke looking right at her. Even from the distance, she noticed the pleading look on his face, and Ophelia immediately stood up and excused herself from Celeste, putting her plate on the chair before crossing the yard and making her way over to the three people standing near the hammock Luke’s younger cousins were swinging on.

Luke felt relief course through him as Ophelia approached, replacing some of the irritation and frustration he had been feeling the second Max and Gwen had stepped into the backyard. Only a single thought had entered Luke’s mind the second he saw Gwen; he couldn’t stand her. Any positive feelings he had towards the girl were now gone, instead replaced with a screaming reminder of what she had done. Fortunately, Luke knew subjecting himself to having feelings for someone capable of cheating on another person would just make him look like a dumbass, and it was a good thing he didn’t feel for her what he used to.

He was pulled out of his thoughts once Ophelia neared them, coming to stand to Luke’s right as he watched a smile pull at her pretty pink lips, one that he recognized as her faux sweet one. “Hi,” Ophelia greeted in a friendly tone, cheekbones prominent as both Max and Gwen’s gazes snapped to the brunette at Luke’s side. “You must be Max and Gwen, right?” She didn’t wait for a response, sliding her left arm around Luke’s waist, the taller boy allowing her to pull him closer as she continued, “I’m Ophelia, Luke’s girlfriend.”

Luke stared down at her in a mixture of awe and amusement. She looked completely at ease, a glint in her eyes that was equal parts mischievous and contemptuous. The smile effortlessly tugged on Luke’s lips as Ophelia’s gaze flickered up to meet his, green eyes bright under the afternoon sun and gleaming in mischief before looking at the two people in front of them.

Max smiled at her politely, and Ophelia noticed that like Luke, he had blue eyes that accompanied his blonde hair, though Ophelia easily preferred the taller boy standing next to her. Luke’s own arm casually wrapped around Ophelia’s shoulders, his body relaxing being so close to her.

“Oh,” Gwen returned, her hand sliding down Max’s arm to grip his hand, a smile stretching on her full lips that Luke knew to be as fake as Ophelia’s. “It’s nice to meet you, Ophelia.”

Luke was trying desperately to keep his lips from forming a smirk, unsurprised that Gwen’s reaction of false politeness went completely over Max’s head. While he didn’t hold any feelings for her anymore, Luke still could read Gwen the way he used to be able to, and he was going to use it to his advantage to provoke a reaction out of the fake bitch—not a word he liked using towards a woman, but there was no harm saying it in his head. Especially towards Gwen. Ophelia was more than happy to help.

“Yeah, you too,” Ophelia nodded, hand on Luke’s back under the leather jacket he wore, feeling the soft material of his shirt under her palm as she added sweetly, “Luke’s told me lots about you guys.”

The uncomfortable expressions on Gwen and Max’s faces threatened a smug smirk to curl at Luke’s lips. His anger towards the two of them made him want to make them feel as uncomfortable as he could manage, and clearly Ophelia was on board with that. God knows Ophelia would’ve blown a gasket if her ex dated her cousin that they cheated on her with. It was just wrong.

Fortunately, Luke’s mother called everyone towards one of the circular tables that was pulled in front of Luke’s grandmother, placing the sheet cake in front of the older woman so she could blow out her candles and cut it. Everyone gathered around as Luke’s grandmother held the knife, his grandfather right by her side as Liz snapped pictures of everyone singing happy birthday to the seventy-five year old woman.

As they sang and clapped, Ophelia’s eyes flickered across the round table where Gwen was standing next to Max, and though the girl’s lips were moving to sing happy birthday, her gaze wasn’t fixated on the blonde to her left—rather, she was focused on the blonde next to Ophelia. “You know, if I didn’t know any better,” Ophelia spoke up quietly, hands still clapping as she leaned her head towards Luke. The taller boy leaned down slightly to his right, stopping his singing, though mouthing along, to listen to Ophelia’s low tone while keeping his gaze on his grandmother. “I’d think that Gwen still has some type of feelings for you.”

Luke blinked, expression morphing into one of weirded out incredulity as the singing turned into loud cheers, everyone clapping as Nan cut the cake. Luke clapped along, but he looked at Ophelia in bewilderment. “What?”

She shrugged, crossing her arms over her chest after she finished clapping and the sounds of Luke’s family members clamouring over his grandmother filled her ears. “She keeps looking at you like you’re a piece of meat and she hasn’t eaten in days,” Ophelia murmured, scoffing slightly with a slight shake of her head as she tore her gaze away from the other girl, meeting Luke’s eyes. Lowering her voice even more, Ophelia whispered conspiratorially, “a girl only looks at a guy like that if she wants to get dicked down.”

Luke pressed his lips together, stifling the snort of laughter threatening to blow past as they dispersed from around the table, walking further down the yard as he looked down at Ophelia disbelievingly. “Are you serious?” he said, allowing a short laugh to escape as the two of them settled on sitting on the grass, leaning back against the tall wooden fence that surrounded the yard. “Sweetheart, Gwen doesn’t want to get dicked down by me.”

Ophelia suppressed the smile from growing on her lips at Luke’s repetition of her words, finding him saying them somewhat amusing as she crossed her legs. The floral romper she wore allowed for the occasional goosebumps on her legs whenever there was a gust of wind, and now her bare skin was being tickled by the grass they sat on.

The yard was full of the light hum of everyone chattering, mixed in with laughter and music playing and it felt nice to Ophelia. She had just met these people only hours before, but she felt comfortable around all of them. Eyes wandering around, they landed on Gwen once more before she let out a breathy laugh and glanced at Luke. “Yeah?” she responded to his statement, watching as he turned his head to look at her with a quirk of his brow. “Then why hasn’t she taken her eyes off of you since she got here?”

Luke frowned, looking away and to where Gwen was. When his blue eyes met her dark brown ones across the yard, Ophelia noticed the way Luke’s Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat before his frown deepened and he looked back at Ophelia, stretching his jean clad legs out in front of him and lacing his ring clad fingers together on his lap. Ophelia couldn’t help the bit of relief at the sight of Luke looking completely turned off and disgruntled by Gwen’s gaze. “She care stare all she wants,” Luke said, “doesn’t mean she’ll get anything in return.”

He tilted his head back, leaning it against the fence and eyes going skyward, and Ophelia couldn’t help but keep staring at him. Luke closed his eyes as a gust of wind blew at their faces, tousling his curls, and Ophelia’s own eyes followed the curve of his nose, the fullness of his lower lip and the sharp line of his jaw, before having to look away quickly as suddenly images of his facial hair scratching her neck from last night began flashing through her mind.

Ophelia let out a breath. This was gonna be a long day.

tags: @irwinkitten @softforcal @astroashtonio @valentinelrh @sweetcherrymike @meetashthere @hereforlukescruff @novacanecalum @captain-what-is-going-on @angelbbycal @singt0mecalum @hopelessxcynic @lfwallscouldtalk @bodhi-black @findingliam-o @softlrh @calntynes @calumsmermaid @erikamarie41 @quintodosuniversos @longlastingdaydream @babylon-corgis @lukehemmingsunflower @imfuckin10plybud @pastelpapermoons @conquerwhatliesahead92 @rotten-kandy @metangi @neigcthood @ohhmuke @old-zeppelin-shirt @5sos-and-hessa @trustmeimawhalebiologist @vxlentinecal @pettybassists @vaporshawn @lu-my-golden-boi @buggy-blogs @visualm3nte @isabella-mae13 @dontjinx-it @lifeakaharry @neonweeknds @antisocialbandmate @ixcantxdecidexwhosxmyxfave @calpalbby @grreatgooglymoogly @gorgeouslygrace @cocktail-calum @miahelizaaabeth @madelynerin @dramallamawithsparkles @theagenderwhocriedwolf @kaytiebug14 @hoodskillerqueen @bitchinbabylon @empathycth @xhaileyreneex @inlovehoodx @calistheloml @aestheticrelated @bloodlinecal @sublimehood @madbomb @raabiac @britnicole11 @outofmylimitcal @fluffsshawn

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marvels-writings · 4 years ago

Text

Beach Getaway

Maria Hill Masterlist

Requested by Anons: Hi really love your page and your work! I wanted to ask if you could write a Maria hill shot from 10 and 12 on the fluff prompt list?(preferably reader saying 12 and Maria 10??) thank you!! :))

10: “I think I’m in love with you.”

12: “Am I your lockscreen?” “You weren’t supposed to see that.”

AND

Hiii! Could you write #36 from the random prompt list with Maria x fem!reader pls?? Thanks!

36: “That was kind of hot.”

Word Count: 1,303 (flufffyyyyyyy)

A/N: This was fluffyyyy and I loved writing it, I hope I got the prompt lists right!

“You need to put on more sunscreen,” You chided, throwing the bottle of sunscreen at your girlfriend. She easily caught it and ignored you.

“I’ll be fine babe,” Maria tossed the sunscreen back in the bag. You rolled your eyes and took it back out, shrugging off your swimming robe and applying it on your arms.

“You’re one of the palest people I know. You’re gonna burn.” You advised, Maria shrugged and waited for you to finish.

After her last mission, you proposed going to the beach for a needed getaway. So, you flew from NYC to San Diego, California. It was almost 9, after sleeping in, you wanted to eat at the buffet in the hotel, but Maria dragged you into the downtown for shopping.

When you finished breakfast, you walked around the downtown and bought each other swimsuits to wear at the beach later. Lunch came quicker than you had expected, after shopping for each other, you made your way to the beach. The day was coming to an end faster than you had expected.

Not that you were complaining, the brunette looked gorgeous in the swimsuit you’d bought her. But she had it covered up with a swimming robe from the hotel. Both of you made your way to the beach, selecting a spot away from everybody else but still near the hotel.

You took off your robe and started to apply sunscreen. You wore a fav/color two-piece Maria had bought for you. It was more comfortable than you had expected. The initial discomfort of showing so much skin wore off when Maria started complimenting you on how good you looked.

After you finished applying sunscreen, your girlfriend leaned in for a quick kiss. Before you could deepen it, she pulled away and stood up. You whined at the loss of contact. Maria laughed and started setting up an umbrella and a beach mat to sit on. You spotted a stand selling sodas and told her you’d buy a few.

On your way back, you held two soda cans and two beer bottles in your hands, ignoring the other beachgoers staring at you. Maria was sitting in her robe, waiting for you under the umbrella. Once she spotted you, she smirked and got up, taking off her robe slowly.

The swimsuit was a simple, navy blue one-piece with cutouts near the stomach. It had thick straps and a low back, on anyone else it would have looked normal. On Maria, it made you lose all composure.

You almost dropped the drinks in surprise, clenching your jaw as you tried not to stare at your girlfriend. She was teasing you, taking off the swimsuit as if she was in a commercial, not that you had any complaints.

“That was kind of hot.” You commented once you were close enough to the mat.

Maria smirked and laughed at your reaction.

After glaring at some guy who was staring at her, you saw down next to her. Your girlfriend noticed the effect she had on you, she smirked and reached a hand over you. The inside of her wrist brushed against your bare stomach as her arm reached over you. You blushed, turning to look at her in confusion. Maria giggled and revealed she was only getting her phone and a soda.

You glared at her, melting when she laughed and laid back on the mat. Glancing over at her, you noticed the background on her phone. It was a picture of both of you on your 1st anniversary.

You'd gone to a fancy restaurant, it had been Maria's treat. After, you went back to your shared apartment and made a blanket fort. The picture was of you laying on Maria's shoulder, fast asleep. Behind you, there were polaroids of both of you over the years which you had printed out. Maria had a lovesick smile on her face as she watched you sleep.

“Am I your lock screen?” You asked, gesturing to her phone. The brunette’s eyes widened and she hid her phone instantly, looking away from you to hide her blush.

“You weren’t supposed to see that,” Maria muttered, you laughed.

“Then you tell me I’m sappy,” You giggled, playfully pushing her into the sand.

Maria raised an eyebrow at your action. You giggled in response, knowing she was going to retaliate, but before she could, you got up. The brunette glared at you playfully and got up. You started to run towards the ocean to escape her. Maria chased you in, laughing when you jumped into the ocean.

You let out a high pitched squeal when you realized the water was a lot colder than you expected. Maria laughed, her feet barely touching the water. Glaring at her, you put your hands in the water and splashed Maria. The shock on her face was worth it, her hair was completely soaked from where it had gotten splashed.

“Oh, you are getting it y/n,” Maria remarked, you grinned and continued splashing her.

The brunette waded into the water while shielding her eyes before splashing you. You laughed, trying to rub the water out of your eyes when you noticed the splashing had stopped. Confused, you looked around for her.

Something touched your ankle, you almost screamed before it pulled you into the water completely. Water engulfed you, salt blurring your eyes. You pushed yourself out of the water, standing up and rubbing your eyes.

Familiar laughter sounded from your side, you whipped your head around to see Maria completely soaked and laughing her head off. You glared at her and tried to tackle her in the water, but failing and sprawling in the sand instead.

You left to sunbathe, leaving Maria to swim for a bit before coming back to you. Maria eventually accepted the sunscreen when she noticed her skin starting to turn red. Even squirting some on your stomach when you teased her about it.

When the sun started to set, you suggested taking a walk on the beach since there were less people. Maria agreed and linked her hand with yours while walking on the beach. The cool water tickled your feet as you walked across the warm sand, feeling at peace.

“The getaway was a good idea.” You remarked, admiring the sunset.

Maria hummed next to you, pulling you to a stop when she noticed the sun was mere minutes from setting. You looked up at her, the soft sunlight highlighting her features as well as yours. The reflection of the sunset in her eyes and the way she was looking at you made you fall in love with her all over again

“I think I’m in love with you,” Maria whispered, hand resting on your neck as she tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

“You better be,” You smirked, holding her hand on your cheek. “Cause I’m in love with you.”

Maria laughed, your face lit up in a grin as you leaned in. Everything felt right with the world when your lips met. You snaked your arms around her waist, your girlfriend’s hands finding their way into your hair to keep you close.

Even after pulling away from the kiss, she kept you close by. The brunette started swaying from side to side, dancing without music. You giggled at the feeling of her fingers stroking the base of your scalp. Maria leaned her forehead against yours, treasuring the feeling of you close to her.

It was moments like this that kept her going, you were her motivation. Maria would never admit how much she had fallen for you if you ever asked for her to leave her job and stay with you instead. Maria would agree in a heartbeat. You had her wrapped around your finger and she loved it. She loved you.

Tag List: @capcarolsdanver, @versdan, @lesbian-girls-wayhaught, @lovebotlarson, @dhengkt, @5aftermidnight, @hstoria, @natasha-danvers, @veryfunnyal, @xxxtwilightaxelxxx , @ophelias-heart , @never-didbefore , @justarandomhumanhere, @the-most-unicorn-of-them-all , @thatssocamryn , @lesbian-x-blackwidow , @marvelbbyx , @wlw-imaginesss , @hcartbyheart , @summergeezburr , @imnotasuperhero let me know if you’d like to be in any of my tag lists!

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rhyaxxyn · 5 years ago

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“That”s golden,” she spat. Natia couldn’t believe she was even humoring this conversation with Lucifer, let alone allowing him to be in her room. He was the enemy. Even when she didn’t know his true name he was the threat. She should’ve already warned Quinn and Heather of his presence in the palace, but...

“I could kill you.” Her stardust weapon--and his too--was conjured in her right hand, blade already out. Right here and now, Natia could end the war. Maybe then, all those traitorous thoughts would leave her alone.

But he took a step toward her. “I know.” Lucifer smiled gently as he approached. She eyed his throat. One move--one swift swing, and the God of Darkness would be dead. He reached Natia, and when his hand came around the weapon, it recoiled back into her holster. It clattered to the ground, the obsidian rod ringing.

“You look strong,” he offered, a little awkwardly, she might add. Natia averted her eyes. He couldn’t be here. Why her rooms? If he could steal away into the palace, why not go straight to Heather, or Quinn? She wasn’t what he wanted. The war didn’t depend on her as much as it did them. “I didn’t think it was you I was fighting at first. You’re so different.” His fingers ran through her hair.

“It has been a year since you dropped me off at the Covens,” she said, keeping her voice quiet for fear it might betray her.

“In the hopes they would treat you well.”

“They did. After all, I’m engaged to one of them.”

“So I’ve heard.”

Her heart was racing. Why did Cordrus have to be right? I can feel it in your heart. You’re waiting for someone to come back to you. She hated that. Hated that it was Lucifer. Hated that even after a year and her transition into a goddess, she was still some fragile-hearted human.

“I need to kill you,” she whispered numbly. “I want to kill you.”

“Then do it.” His fingers traced the line of her jaw, bringing her eyes back to his golden ones. The stardust blade was in his hands now. It was all he needed to kill her, but he slid it back into her grasp. “Do it.”

She exhaled roughly. Lucifer knew exactly what he was doing. He was making a point, and she was only proving it.

“Why do I let you do this to me?” Nata asked. The back of her throat stung. Her eyebrows tented as she continued, asking, “Why do I let you ruin me?”

When both of his hands grabbed her face it was desperate, his way of holding her gaze even as she wanted to disappear. “Stop letting me then.”

Natia realized then that he was begging her. Were they this destructive to each other? This ruinous? When the war ended would it be through a treaty, or because whatever was between them finally shattered, ending the Nameless War with only their blood?

“I can’t,” she confessed, shutting her eyes. Natia couldn’t look at him anymore. Kill him. Kill him. Kill him. She clenched her jaw. When his forehead fell against hers, she made no move to get away from him. He was so warm. It was strange, that when he was the God of Darkness, the God Killer, his presence froze Natia to her core, but when it was him--what he must’ve been when he was only an angel--her body filled with warmth.

Natia grabbed onto her collar. “I’m supposed to hate you,” she ground out. Her throat closed up.

“I am too.” His breath fanned across her face. It was so unfair that angels smelt of honey and sugar, even if they bathed in blood. “But for tonight, let me pretend we’re unfortunate strangers.” Lucifer’s fingernails scraped her scalp as he dragged them up to the crown of her head. “Let me pretend you’re the girl I was never supposed to meet, but was allowed to anyway.”

Opening her eyes again, she knew what the end of the world must feel like. It was a sense of standing at the edge of a bottomless cliff, the only end a million universes away. If she allowed it--a moment of forgetting all their history and becoming strangers--she’d be betraying Heather, and Quinn. Cordrus--her fiance--and both of their covens.

“You’re working with Ophelia,” she said. Ophelia, the woman who killed her entire family, who ripped apart her world. The scar across her lips was because of Ophelia, and Lucifer was working with her. Natia clenched her hands into his shirt. “I need to want to kill you.”

His face came close enough that his lips feathered against hers. A test, a prayer, a question.

“Then kill me,” he whispered. “Kill me, Natia.”

And so she did him one better. Natia, the youngest goddess and guardian of the King and Queen of Gods, crashed her lips against her sworn enemy’s, allowing herself to fade away entirely, letting her mind rage against her even as her heart rang out. She kissed him, letting the God of Darkness, the Devil become the air in her swelling lungs. By the way he clung to her, she had become his air too.

Unfortunate strangers for a night, but come tomorrow, she’d do everything in her power to destroy him. One night, and then the war forevermore.

THE NATURAL ORDERS | READ IT HERE

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flamehairedwritings · 4 years ago

Text

The Fire In Your Eyes: Chapter Twenty One

Characters: Arthur Morgan x Original Female Character

Rating: The whole series will be E, 18+ ONLY for violence, gore, character deaths, animal deaths, parent deaths, swearing, grief, sexual themes and unprotected sex.

Summary: Saved by Arthur Morgan when her town is attacked, a young woman’s past comes back to haunt her when she has no choice but to join the Van der Linde Gang.

Some scenes and dialogue have been taken from the game!

Read on AO3

The Fire In Your Eyes Masterlist

Please don’t copy, steal or re-post my work; credit does not count.

Legends of the Fall

There was the sound of birds calling again; whistling and cooing. The leaves in the trees rustled gently in the breeze, and, faintly, somewhere in the distance, was the sound of running water.

Ada watched the white, fluffy clouds in the pale blue sky move slowly, her eyes tracing the shapes of them. She could feel the crisp, coolness of the morning air on her cheeks, but she felt warm, the sleeping man behind her providing it.

His arm was around her under the blanket, and she’d lightly laced her fingers with his when she’d woken, not wanting to disturb him. It was peaceful and quiet, and she wished she could capture this moment forever, just bottle it up and preserve it and hold it close to her heart.

When was the last time they’d had this? Must have been when they’d been at the cabin; and how long ago that felt. Well, it was Charlotte’s cabin now. She hoped she was doing okay. Maybe sometime in the future she would be able to check on her. Or maybe Thom would, keeping his word.

She hoped he was okay, too.

Arthur inhaled a long, slow breath, and she knew he was awake, her fingers lacing a little more tightly with his. He shifted slightly, and then she felt his lips brush against her neck before he placed a lingering kiss there. The corners of her mouth rising, her eyes closed for a few moments.

“Good morning.”

“Mornin’,” he rumbled against her ear, his voice rough from sleep.

“You sleep okay?”

“Mhm.”

Her lips rose higher as he pressed another kiss to her skin, not the most talkative of people in the morning, and she shifted carefully, turning onto her back so she could gaze at him. His arm remained around her, fingertips caressing her side, and as she met his gaze, a corner of his mouth lifted.

“You?”

Her smile softened. “Really well.”

“Good.”

Pushing himself up onto his elbow, he lowered his head and kissed her softly, slow and lingering. Her fingertips brushed against his cheek and jaw, gliding down to the back of his neck. When it finally broke, he brushed his nose against hers in such a sleepy and tender manner that she felt her heart swell.

God, she loved him.

“We better get movin’,” he murmured, and she nodded, her fingers tracing along his jaw.

It was inevitable, them returning, but despite his words they were slow moving, taking their time eating their breakfast and gazing out at the trees that stretched on for miles and miles.

After packing up, they followed the sound of water until they came to a wide creek. Letting their horses graze, Arthur sat on the bank as she kneeled by it and pulled her blouse off. He watched her as she washed her arms, chest and neck with a bar of soap they’d taken from the ranch, lightly soaking her thin cotton corset with a few stray drops of water. His eyes drifted from the trees to her and back, knowing he needed to keep watch but... well, how could he not watch her?

The thin streams of sunlight that filtered through the trees made her hair shine, giving parts of it an almost golden glow. He liked to think it made her freckles sparkle, too, before he wanted to laugh at himself.

Romantic fool.

“What?”

Damn, she’d caught him.

Shrugging, he leaned back on his hands. “Nothin’.”

Her eyebrows rose as she smiled. “You gonna keep staring or are you gonna help me?”

“Gladly, but with what?”

“My hair. It’s very much in need of a wash.”

Pushing himself up, he pulled his jacket off as he arched an eyebrow. “Ah, that’s what I could smell this mornin’.” He chuckled as she splashed water in his direction, her eyes narrowed, and he rolled his sleeves up. “All righ’, all righ’, what do you want me to do?”

“It might be easier if I lean back, then you can just wet my hair and use the soap.”

“All righ’.”

He lowered down onto one knee as she shifted, turning her back to the water, and as she leaned back, he cupped the back of her neck with his left hand, holding her head up. With his right, he gathered water into his palm and gently poured it onto her hair. When it was wet enough, he took the soap from her and lathered it up with his right hand before massaging her hair.

She gave little hums at the sensation and the corners of his mouth lifted. It was a slow process but he didn’t care. They had this time and they would take it. He estimated they’d be back at Beaver Hollow just before sunset, which was fine. There was no point rushing, and Charles would be back there from the Reservation by now, so he and John would be keeping things calm. Hopefully.

“Look at you...” He looked to her at her voice, finding her smiling. “... Big, tough cowboy washing my hair.”

He snorted as he arched an eyebrow. “I ain’t tough ‘round you. You make me all weak.”

She laughed as he ran his fingertips through her hair, getting out the last of the suds and squeezing some water out. “Do I, now?”

“Yeah, but don’t go tellin’ no one. I’ve got a reputation to maintain.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep your secret, Morgan.”

“You better, I know where you live.”

She laughed again as he ran his fingers through her hair for the last time before he dropped his hand. “All righ’, you got a towel or somethin’?”

“No, strangely enough that wasn’t something that was in abundance at the ranch.”

Lifting her head out of his hand, she pulled something green out of her skirt pocket as she sat up, and he saw it was a scarf. Scrunching some of the wetness out of her hair with it, she then wrapped it around the crown of her head before tying it under her hair.

She looked at him when she finished, her hands falling into her lap with a smile.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart.” Rising to his feet, he held a hand out to her with a warm smile, and when she accepted it he helped her up.

Instead of releasing her when she was on her feet, though, his arms went around her waist and he captured her lips just as she opened them to ask what he was doing.

He felt her smile into the kiss, her hands resting on his biceps. He kept kissing her, leaning her backwards until she was gripping onto him and laughing. Pulling her back upright, he then released her, a corner of his mouth higher than the other in a lazy smirk as she shook her head at him, trying to stop her own smile from widening.

“Come on, you fool, we’ve got a journey to make.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

He kept his gaze on her as he pulled his sleeves down, watching her tug her blouse on and button it up before tucking it into her skirt. After pulling on a jacket she’d taken from the ranch, she then wrapped the soap back up in a small cloth before moving to the white horse she’d taken.

A sense of clarity came to him, then. So suddenly, so quietly.

Licking his lips, he pulled his jacket on.

“Hey, Ada.”

She glanced at him as she tucked the wrapped soap into the saddlebag. “Yeah?”

He cleared his throat slightly as he adjusted the collar of his jacket before dropping his hands. “When this is all over, would you marry me?”

She stilled. Her eyes darted up to him. He looked at her silently, his heart pounding against his rib cage.

“Would I marry you?”

“Yeah.”

She dropped the flap of her saddlebag, turning her body fully to him as her tongue darted across her lips.

“Would I marry you?”

He cleared his throat again, feeling his face warm as he shrugged, his hands on his belt.

Ah, hell and shit...

“Yeah.”

She stared at him. Then she released a breath.

“Of course I would. Yes. Yes, I would.”

His heart stopped. His lips parted as he smiled, it widening and widening at the sight of her own appearing.

“Seriously?”

“Yes.”

And then she was closing the gap between them and her arms were around his neck, embracing him tightly. His arms instantly went around her as he pressed his face into the crook of her neck, his eyes closing.

“Did you just ask me to marry you?” she murmured almost breathlessly, and he could hear the smile in her voice.

“Yeah. Sorry I didn’t get down on one knee or nothin’—”

She silenced him with a firm kiss, her hand cupping his cheek.

“Suppose I’ll have to wait for a ring,” Ada murmured as she pulled back, keeping her arms around him with a grin.

“I can steal one off the next person we come to, I don’t care...”

He gazed at her with a tender smile as she laughed.

God, he loved her.

—

They arrived back at camp, as he’d predicted, just before sunset. He led them into camp from the way he’d exited, on the path she’d been taken on, and he either hadn’t taken a break or was back there again because John Marston greeted them.

“Well, look at this!” he called out to them, grinning, and as she remembered she hadn’t seen him in nearly two months, Ada pulled her horse to a halt and slid down from the saddle, striding towards him with a wide smile.

“Look at you!” she laughed as she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly.

It surprised him but he returned it, one arm going around her and squeezing her as he chuckled. “Been some time, huh?”

“Yeah, you could say that.” Pulling back, she held him at arms length as his dropped from her, shaking her head as she grinned and surveyed him. “You’re all in one piece, then?”

“Yeah, just about. That new?” He gestured at the faint scar on her forehead, and she nodded, “Fairly.”

“Well, welcome to the club, you almost look like me.”

“Christ, I hope not,” Arthur sighed from behind her, off Ophelia and holding both their horses reins.

Chuckling, John shouldered his rifle as Ada stepped back, taking her horse’s reins. “Glad to see you, too.”

“Everythin’ been all righ’?”

John shrugged, raising his eyebrows slightly. “Been how it always is now. Tense, quiet.”

“Well, quiet’s good.” Arthur placed a hand on her back and was about to guide her up towards the camp when John continued.

“Dutch has, uh... Well, he asked where you was. Said to see him as soon as you got back.”

Ah, shit.

Dragging his teeth over his lower lip, he nodded. “Okay. Thanks, John.”

“You got it.” Shifting his gaze to Ada, he smiled. “Good to see you, Annie.”

“You, too, John.”

Her smile lingered as they headed up towards the camp. Of course she knew he was okay as Arthur had told her, but actually seeing him felt like such a relief. And with Arthur also telling her the man was ready to leave? It was just a matter of time, now.

Whenever she thought about the little family, she thought of Jack, of how he deserved a different, better life than this, the constant moving and running and violence. What kind of man would he become if they didn’t get him away now?

She thought of Thom. Maybe he was the man who Jack might grow into.

Yes, they had to get them away soon, in a matter of days.

“Annie!”

Lifting her head, Ada’s smile widened as Abigail ran towards her as they entered the camp, grinning.

“Oh, thank God!” the brunette woman cried as she threw her arms around her, hugging her tightly.

“Hello, Abigail,” Ada murmured, closing her eyes for a moment. It felt nice, to be so welcomed and missed.

“How are you? Are you okay?” It was now her turn to be held at arms length as Abigail studied her, a concerned frown on her features.

“I’m fine. Tired, but fine.”

Once she’d finished her study, convinced, Abigail smiled again. “If tired is the worst of it, then I’m glad! You hungry?”

“Yeah, a little—”

“All right, I’ll get you a bowl of whatever Pearson’s cooked up, okay? I’ll come find you!”

And then she was striding away, a true mother. Smiling, Ada glanced up at Arthur as the rest of the gang began to converge on her, displaying their delight at her return. Arthur returned the smile as Mary-Beth enveloped her in the tightest hug she’d ever had, bursting into tears on her shoulder, and then Tilly was hugging her, too, and Jack, and Karen, swaying a little, was clapping her on the back and grinning as Uncle laughed and Charles gave her a warm smile. It was so nice, soothing away her anxieties that Molly’s words had gotten to them.

While they greeted her, Bill, Javier, Susan, Pearson, Micah and their leader were nowhere to be seen. Or maybe they hadn’t bothered to come.

Arthur had spoken of a division forming in the camp and, if this was any indication, she was already beginning to feel it.

Gently extracting herself from the sniffling Mary-Beth and the giggling Jack, she looked between them all with a wide smile.

“I’m so glad you’re back!” Tilly beamed as Mary-Beth nodded fiercely and added, “We thought somethin’ awful had happened to you, I hate this place.”

Karen snorted. “It is so God damn weird here. I’m glad yo—”

“Well, we’re just full of reunions recently, aren’t we.”

They quietened at his voice, and Ada felt herself instantly tensing. As the group stepped aside, some moving back to their tents or whatever they were doing, others half-turning away, Dutch van der Linde approached, his hands by his sides, his eyes on her.

“Hello, Dutch,” she answered, managing a light smile.

“Hello, Annie.” She didn’t like how he pronounced her name; slightly drawn out, light. “Where you been?”

“Murfree’s took me.” They’d agreed on the way back that that would be their story, obviously not wanting to tell anyone about her involvement with the O’Driscolls. “They were lurking close-by, wanting to get their land back. I was taking a watch when they knocked me out. When I woke up I was at a camp of theirs.”

“For two weeks?”

Arthur narrowed his eyes slightly. So he had been keeping track.

“Not at that camp, they moved around a lot.”

Dutch nodded as he stood before her, holding her gaze. “They do anythin’ to you?”

“Nothing physical.”

He nodded again, and then gave her a smile. “How fortunate. And what a relief. Well, I’ll let you get settled back in.”

She returned the smile, a strange sensation prickling across her skin. “Thank you, Dutch.”

His gaze shifted to Arthur after a moment. “You tell me before you leave this camp next time, all right?”

She saw Arthur nod in her peripheral vision. “Sure.”

Dutch glanced at her again, and then he was turning and moving back towards his tent, Micah, Bill and two men she didn’t recognise sat at the table outside it, watching. Looking away, she took her horse’s reins again and moved towards the rest of the horses, Arthur following her, silent.

She relaxed with a smile as she saw Mags, releasing the reins and moving to the tall Hungarian Half-bred, stroking her face.

“Hello, girl. Did you miss me?”

Mags nudged at her chest, snorting quietly.

“I’d take that as a yes,” Arthur said, loosely wrapping Ophelia’s reins around a pole.

“Good. I missed her, too.” Smiling softly, Ada scratched at her neck gently before she looked to him, lowering her voice. “Who are those two men with Micah?”

He glanced over at them as he started to brush Ophelia down, starting at her neck. “Pals of his, apparently.”

She looked back over at them, licking her lips. One was tall and large, in a dark coat and long hair, the other was small and scrawny in a blue coat and hat that seemed too big for his head.

“C’mon,” Arthur murmured, pulling her attention away. “Let’s get some food.”

His words aptly timed, Abigail found them a few moments later and, hugging her again, Ada thanked her, squeezing her arm gently after she’d passed her a bowl of stew. Abigail left them to it and they went to Arthur’s area, sitting on his bed and eating together quietly.

Her gaze drifted across the camp. Yes, there was definitely a division growing here. People barely spoke to one another, the mood was sour, tense, and it was more noticeable with the girls, especially. Mary-Beth looked like she was constantly on the verge of tears. Tilly, while having been delighted at Ada’s return, now looked expressionless, staring off into space. Karen was drunk, leaning back against a tree, watching everyone but not seeing. And the three of them weren’t sat together.

No one was. Only her and Arthur, and Abigail and Jack in their tent.

Well, except Micah and Bill and their new friends. Though they themselves were quiet, they seemed to unsettle everyone, no one going near Dutch’s tent. Back in the old days, people would wander by, have a chat with him, bring him a drink or some food. Now, there was just an uncomfortable silence.

Sadie returned an hour or so later, cleaned up and in fresh clothes. She brought with her a deer and two turkeys, a good enough cover for where she’d been all this time.

She came and sat with them after giving the animals to Pearson, and they sat quietly, eating and glancing up at Micah’s friends periodically. Arthur had told her on the way back that he’d spoken with Sadie and she was also committed to getting John and his family out, and them. Good. They couldn’t talk about it now, though, not here, it was too risky.

Her gaze returned to Mary-Beth. Maybe they could get some of the others out, too. Dissolve whatever was left of this gang. It seemed to be splitting anyway, why not just help it along? Dutch would still have people loyal to him, and everyone else could live their lives free of running and hiding, hopefully.

“You lookin’ at somethin’, Morgan?”

It wasn’t only her head that turned at the sound of Micah’s voice calling across the camp, breaking the silence.

Arthur shrugged a shoulder beside her as he rose to his feet, stepping towards him. “Just wonderin’ why these two are still here.”

She glanced at the two new men, who remained quiet, then to Dutch as he spoke, sat on a chair outside his tent, Micah stood beside him.

“They’re old pals of Micah’s, Arthur.”

Arthur neared, his shoulders squared. “They’re gettin’ real comfortable.”

“We need guns for what’s comin’,” Micah sighed, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. He gestured at the scrawny man, and then the tall one. “Cleet and Joe know how to fight.” He cleared his throat as he stared at Arthur, raising his eyebrows. “It’s lucky I bumped into ‘em.”

Everyone was watching now, Sadie sat opposite her, John and Charles at the campfire, everyone else scattered around.

Arthur was shaking his head slowly. “What is goin’ on, Dutch? What is happenin’ to us?”

The older man was looking at him, silent.

“What’s happenin’ to you?” Arthur suddenly demanded, gesturing at him.

“You show him some respect,” Micah hissed, moving towards him.

Charles and John stood in the same moment she and Sadie did as the two men squared up to each other.

“Excuse me?” Arthur answered in a low, dangerous tone.

It took her a couple of moments to register the faint thundering of hooves drawing closer came as the sky began to darken. Then came the voice of a young man.

“Mr Van der Linde! Mr Morgan!”

Everyone turned, staring at the main path of the camp as young men came storming down on horses, Native men, some of their faces and chests painted in various patterns.

“Charles!” The man at the head of the group of about twenty, the leader, was continuing, drawing his horse to a halt, but it stamped it’s feet, turning in circles as the other horses moved, skittish and riled up like their riders. “They tried to kill my people for oil! For oil! Today we ride once more!”

She knew he had to be Eagle Flies.

“Ride with me! Ride with us! Ride with us against the factory!”

Dutch was approaching the group along with his own men, and he was smiling, stretching his arms out. “I love your courage, son! It is a thing of great beauty—”

“Stop!”

Ada’s head whipped to the side as an older Native man burst into the camp, pulling his horse to an abrupt stop, swiftly dismounting.

“Everyone stop!”

Rains Fall.

He looked to his son, swallowing and moving closer. “My son, my last son, don’t.” He was out of breath and begging. Silence had descended again, and as she briefly glanced at Dutch, she found his arms folded, smile gone. Rains Fall was stood before Eagle Flies now, his hands raised. “When I was your age, I fought. I saw death. I have killed. The men I knew were slain. My first born, your brother, had his head smashed by a drunk soldier. My wife had her throat slit.” Anger had briefly seeped into his tone, but it vanished, wearily. “We made peace. I knew not to trust, yet I had no choice.” He was pacing slightly before his son, shaking his head. “Maybe you were right. Maybe the slow death is worse than the fast one.” He paused, looking up at his son. “Maybe none of these men are good. Maybe a world in which they came to us, is a world that we cannot endure...” He said the last word fiercely, before it, too, vanished again as he released a breath. “... but endure we must.”

“Father,” Eagle Flies gazed down at him, anger washing over his features, “you are tired—”

“Do not die for pride, my son!” Rains Fall implored, “We have suffered too much in this trick! The earth, the water, they have no pride!”

She felt Charles, who she was now stood beside, shift as Arthur glanced back at him, concerned.

“They endure! And we must endure.” Rains Fall’s voice softened as he begged again, “My only boy, my precious boy... do not mistake my strength for weakness. As your chief, I implore you.”

Ada suddenly realised she was holding her breath as he finished and silence fell. No one moved, all looking to the young man. Dutch was still.

And Eagle Flies gazed down at his father, disgusted. “Your words mean nothing to me, Father.”

“Don’t—!”

“Ride with me! Now!” Eagle Flies shouted over his father, his gaze fixed on Dutch, before he was urging his horse on, down the small path beside the camp. The group followed, cheering and whooping as their horses galloped away.

“Stop!” Rains Fall was calling out to them, desperately, in vain. “Please... stop!”

And then he was left there, stood on his own, staring after them. Ada didn’t know him, but she felt tears pricking at her eyes at how hopeless the father looked. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she watched him turn and approach them.

“Please, Mr Morgan!” Arthur stepped closer, and so did Dutch, his hands on his belt, head tilted. “After you helped me, after we spoke...” Rains Fall continued. “... this is just a trap. My son, my people, will all die.”

“You helped this feller, Arthur?” Dutch asked with a frown, looking to him.

“Please,” Rains Fall asked as Arthur answered, “What of it?”

“What else you been doin’ behind Dutch’s back?” Micah hissed.

“What?” Arthur demanded, looking as if he was going to square up to the man again, when Rains Fall spoke.

“The wars are over. We have lost. These young men will be annihilated. Please.”

Arthur looked to him, and nodded after a moment. “I’ll see what I can do. Charles?”

The other man nodded as he met his gaze, already with him.

Arthur stepped forward, turning to address the group. “Who else will come with me?”

“Oh, I’ll ride, Arthur,” Dutch answered, his jaw moving. “Who knows what other secrets I’ll learn about. Who else?”

As Dutch turned to the group, Arthur turned to her, and he opened his mouth, but she was already talking.

“I’ll stay,” she murmured, her hand resting on his chest gently.

“You sure?” he answered, just as quietly. “You gonna be okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll help the girls with stuff. It’ll be like old times,” she said drily.

A corner of his mouth lifted, though it was only a little. Releasing a breath, she slid her arms around his neck and held him tightly. As he returned it, his arms around her lower back, she breathed so only he could hear, “I’ll help Abigail find the money and start to get ready. I’ll make sure nobody suspects us.”

She felt him nod slightly as his grip tightened on her. Then, he released her and pressed a kiss to her cheek with a murmured, “I love you,” before he was striding away, mounting up as Dutch, Bill, Micah, Cleet, Sadie, Charles, Javier and John did the same.

Micah’s friend Joe stayed behind, sat at the table once more, watching. Ada pulled her gaze from him and watched with Abigail as the group headed out of the camp with Dutch calling out, “Let’s ride!”

They left behind them a cloud of dust, yet more silence, and uncertainty. There was a paused moment before people continued on with what they were doing, eerily quiet. She got her first glimpse of Susan since she’d arrived, though the woman just glanced up at her and smiled faintly.

She could see now how rapidly things were falling apart, how events could spiral into a fight at any moment and if Micah or Arthur got their hands on one another...

Maybe tomorrow, maybe the day after that, she didn’t know, but sometime in the next few days they would leave. They had to. Her gaze drifted to Rains Fall. He was watching the group, too, his hands by his sides, his shoulders slumped. Moving towards him, she cleared her throat gently.

“Rains Fall?”

He turned to her after a moment, and she smiled warmly. “It’s lovely to meet you, I’m Annie.”

He nodded, giving a light smile. “Arthur’s partner, yes, hello.”

Well, if that didn’t make her heart swell. “He spoke to you about me?”

“Yes, he did. I’m glad you have come back to him.”

Her features softened, and then she could only think about how much she hoped his son would return to him. Swallowing the lump that had returned to her throat, she gestured towards his horse. “I can ride with you for a while, if you like.”

He shook his head as he patted his horse’s neck, exhaling a breath. “Thank you, but I know the way.”

She watched him mount, her hands clasping together, wringing slightly. Licking her lips, she said gently, “Arthur will do what he can.”

He met her gaze, and she couldn’t read his expression. “I know.” Inclining his head, he turned his horse as she stepped back. “It was nice to meet you, Annie. I hope to see you again.”

Her heart nearly broke as he rode away. Running a hand over her hair, she tucked a few curls behind her ear before she dropped her hand.

God, I hope he gets his son back.

She couldn’t dwell on that, though, or if Arthur would be okay. She had her own business to attend to. Turning, she found Abigail still stood in the same spot.

“Abigail,” she murmured, checking to make sure no one, especially Joe, was watching before she looked to her. “How about we take a walk?”

Abigail’s brow dipped as she looked at her, searching her gaze, and then she nodded, something in her telling her not to question here. “Sure. Hey, Mary-Beth?”

The younger woman lifted her head, her features sullen. “Yeah?”

“Can you keep an eye on Jack for me? Annie and I are gonna do some laundry down by the river.”

Ada almost smiled; the woman was smart.

“Sure.” Mary-Beth brightened a little at having something nice to do, pushing herself up to her feet and moving over to where Jack was sat outside their tent, a book in his hands, his legs swinging.

“Will you read with me?”

“Of course I will, little man.”

Abigail grabbed a small basket from beside the tent as they passed, and they headed down the thin path to the river, both resisting the urge to glance over their shoulders. Ada hoped that people would just assume they were worried about their men and needed to keep busy, that no one would come to bother them. If anyone was even concerned about them.

Ada gently caught her by the arm when they were a good way down the path, and when she faced her, she kept her voice lowered just in case.

“Abigail, Arthur told me that John said you might know where Dutch is keeping the money.”

The dark-haired woman glanced back up the path before she nodded, swallowing lightly. “Yeah, I think I might.”

“Could you take me to it?”

“Yeah... but why?”

Licking her lips, Ada pressed her hands together for a moment before raising them slightly. “I don’t know how much John has told you, but we’re, me, Arthur and Sadie, we’re gonna get you three out of here. And I think we’re gonna need some money to get you somewhere safe.”

She was searching Ada’s gaze again, her lips parted. “You mean that?”

“I do.”

She swallowed once more, and started to nod. “Good. I... I would be so grateful for any help, I know John has been talkin’ to Arthur, but... Part of me thought it was just talk.”

“Me, too. But it’s not anymore, Abigail. I want out, too, and so does Arthur.”

“He does?” Abigail’s eyebrows had risen and Ada saw a mirror of the emotions she, too, had felt at one point about his decision; delight, relief, and, yes, sadness that it had come to this.

“Yes. And I don’t know when we’re gonna go but I know it’s soon. Very soon. If we can get a little money now, while most of them are away, while Dutch is away, then we can hide it and I can help you get a few things together so we’ll be ready.”

“All right.” Abigail nodded, her chin lifting a little as her shoulders squared. “All right. I’ll take you, c’mon.”

Balancing the basket against her hip, she checked that the path was clear, before she headed up the incline to the right of it, Ada following close behind her. She took her high up it, through the trees and shrubs that covered the hill. The sky was darkening, but the trees made it seem darker, and they had to watch their footing, avoiding holes and exposed tree roots. Ada hadn’t even thought about where Dutch might hide the box of money the gang had collected, but burying it on a hill by the camp seemed a little... archaic. But didn’t that just about sum him up?

“Here.”

Lifting her head, gripping at the trunk of a tree as the incline had steepened, Ada frowned as she followed the direction of Abigail’s finger.

“... Here?”

—

“What else have you been doing behind my back, Arthur?”

“Yeah, Morgan, where you been?” Micah chimed in.

Arthur’s gaze shifted to Dutch as they rode, his jaw clenching.

“I was tryin’ to stop this mess from gettin’ any worse. Clearly that didn’t work.”

“Why the hell would they attack the oil fields?” John called from behind him.

“What d’you mean? It’s perfect,” Dutch answered, a smile to his tone, and Arthur stared at him, his features twisting slightly in anger.

“This was your idea?!”

“Partly... The army, the government, the industrialists, they’ve taken everything from these people. Wouldn’t you wanna fight back?”

“You’ve handed them a death sentence!”

“Just like John, if we hadn’t got him out of that prison,” Sadie piped up, a bitterness to her tone.

“Hey! Show some God damn respect!” Bill shouted.

“You’ll know when I ain’t showin’ respect, Bill!”

“I had a plan, I still have a plan!” Dutch called over them.

“What plan? What God damn plan, Dutch?!” John suddenly cut in. “Tahiti?! Timbuktu?!”

“That’s enough! What's wrong with you all?” Javier demanded. “What happened to loyalty?”

“Yeah, what did,” John scoffed.

“Thank you, Javier, Bill. Right now, it doesn’t matter how we got here. These men need our help. I have a plan... this is the plan. So either stick with me, or cut loose! Because I am tired of this constant dissent, long tired of it! Now come on!”

Their horses already at a gallop, they urged them on faster, thundering down paths. Arthur just kept his gaze fixed ahead, trying to get ahold of the rage inside him. It shouldn’t have come to this. Like fucking everything recently, it shouldn’t have come to this. He was going to save Eagle Flies, though, he was going to get him out and back to his father and then he was going to make sure Dutch could never get near him ever again.

“Look, up ahead, it’s one of them!” Dutch suddenly called out as a young man on a horse came idling towards them, bent over slightly. “Are you all right, son?”

“Eagle Flies...” the man said breathlessly, pointing back behind him as they slowed their horses. “... He needs help! They all need help...”

“Quick, somebody help him—” Charles started to say but the man shook his head, “No! Go... please, hurry... I’ll be...”

“Come on!” At Dutch’s cry, they were racing towards the oil fields.

Arthur’s heart twisted at what he imagined they might find; a massacre, more unnecessary blood-shed, bodies everywhere. If Eagle Flies was dead...

His eyes shifted to Dutch, staring at the back of his head, wondering what he was thinking. He had no idea anymore. No idea who he was.

Turning his head, he looked to John beside him, and he met his gaze, his lips pressing together.

John seemed to be thinking the exact same thing.

He returned his gaze to the road, and then, in the distance, billowing up into the sky over the trees, was smoke.

It grew as they approached, thickening and darkening into a swirling, incessant mass. They came to a halt at the top of a hill, the trees gone, now before them just plain lands with patches of grass, and the oil fields. The buildings were on fire, and he could smell it from here.

“It’s a massacre,” Charles muttered as he stared down at it through his binoculars.

“We gotta help these men,” Dutch implored as a small group of four, weary, injured men mounted their horses to the left of them.

“Can anyone see Eagle Flies?” Arthur, using his own binoculars to survey the mess, couldn’t see the boy anywhere. He was starting to feel a little frantic when Charles answered, “There, going across the walkway.”

Arthur located him, watched him shoot two men. Gritting his teeth, Arthur lowered the binoculars and tucked them back into his saddlebag, staring at Dutch.

“You got what you wanted, Dutch.”

“You comin’, Arthur?” was all he said.

“I’m gonna try and save him,” he said, shaking his head as he exhaled a harsh breath. “This fight is unwinnable. If you go and distract them and let me get to him—”

“Have it your way,” Dutch cut in. “The rest of you, ride with me. Let’s meet up at the factory. Let’s ride!”

With one last glance at Arthur, he was then charging down the hill with Bill, Micah, Cleet, John and Javier.

Arthur looked between those that remained; Charles, Sadie, and now the injured men who had mounted up were with them, looking more hopeful. Pointing after Dutch, Arthur shook his head.

“Go with him, try and help there. I’m better off alone.”

Charles drew his gun as he shook his head. “We’re riding with you.”

Nodding once, Arthur turned his gaze to the burning factory.

“Come on, then. Ha!”

Ophelia burst into a gallop as they rode down together, and Arthur drew his gun, his features set. He was going to save Eagle Flies, no matter what.

—

Ada stared at the square-like hole in the rock, peering into the darkness.

“... In the caves?”

Abigail nodded as she set the basket down. “Where better. No one wants to go in there.”

“I certainly don’t.”

“Me, neither.”

Both women looked in it, then at each other. Sighing, Ada nodded.

“All right, let’s go.”

She had to crouch a little to get in, but once she was she could stand at full height, and there was still metres of space above her. Gazing down, there was a winding kind of pathway to the bottom, part rock, part wooden planks. This must have been the Murfree’s escape route; so they were more intelligent than they looked.

Climbing down a ladder, they then began to descend, Abigail bringing the basket with her, though Ada couldn’t imagine why; she could’ve just left it up there and they would return for it later. They’d have to leave this way anyway, as Abigail had, quite rightly, known that if they entered from the camp, through the huge, main entrance, that people would watch and might ask questions.

It was dark and cool, the only light coming in from the hole in the rock. When they reached the bottom, Ada squinted slightly, her eyes adjusting. There were destroyed wagons and various pieces of furniture dotted about, piled up in some places. Charles had told her about what he and Arthur had found down here and the place still creeped her out.

“This way.”

She followed Abigail around a corner, finding a few, weakly lit lanterns and, which did nothing to soothe her nerves, an open, wooden cage. She was grateful that Abigail was moving quickly.

“Under here...” Abigail stopped before a wagon on its side, chairs and wooden planks piled over it, and crouched, placing the basket down.

She began to push the detritus aside, Ada dropping to her knees and helping her. They worked as quietly as possible, every small sound echoing in here, and they absolutely did not need it reaching the entrance.

“Here, it’s this...” Pushing a ragged, moth-eaten and probably rat-eaten blanket aside, the red box was revealed. It had once been such a familiar sight in camp, just left by wherever Dutch was sleeping, out in the open. Now it was locked and buried away by a paranoid, bitter man.

“Can you get it open?” she whispered and Abigail side-eyed her, her lips twitching.

“Honey, I don’t think you know who you’re talkin’ to.”

Pulling pins from her hair, Ada then watched as Abigail bent them and slotted them into a lock. It reminded her of the Mayor’s Gala.

Was that a simpler time? Maybe... Marginally.

It took her no time at all to open it. Sliding the pins back into her hair, she lifted the lid and Ada’s breath caught in her throat as Abigail gasped.

“Holy God...”

She’d never seen so much money in her life. There were so many bills, coin purses, even a gold bar... How could Dutch still want more money?

“We can’t take it all, can we?”

Ada exhaled a laugh as she shook her head. “No, I think that’ll be pretty noticeable. We’ll take a few bills. Hopefully Dutch won’t check it before we leave.”

“All right.”

They took just enough so that it wasn’t noticeable, but it was still the most money Ada had ever held in her life. She nearly laughed as Abigail stuffed it into her pockets like it was nothing. Yes, they’d absolutely be able to get somewhere safe with this.

Abigail quietly closed and then used the pins to lock the box before they pushed it back under the blanket and began carefully assembling the pieces back into their place.

“Where are we gonna go?” Abigail murmured after a few moments of silence, continuing as Ada met her gaze. “To get away? John told me that if anythin’ happened he’d meet me at this dam but—”

“What dam?” Ada paused, looking at her. “Owanjila dam?”

Abigail nodded, her brow dipping. “Yeah, why?”

The corners of her mouth lifted a little as she shook her head. “It’s just... That’s where I told my family to go if anything happened, back in Strawberry.”

The other woman smiled gently. “Must be a hell of a safe place, then.” As they continued reconstructing the mess, she cleared her throat. “Y’know... I don’t really know all that much about you and before you were taken you said that—”

“What we got here?”

Both women jumped and turned at the unfamiliar voice, and they found Joe looking at them, huge and imposing. Ada’s lips parted as Abigail stared, and he raised his eyebrows.

Abigail shrugged as she placed a hand on her hip, the other gesturing at the basket. “This is the best place to dry clothes.”

Oh, she was a very smart woman.

He looked between them, expressionless. “I didn’t see you come in. And they look dry to me.”

Abigail scoffed. “Well, obviously you can’t see proper, then.”

“I can see just fine.” His face screwed up slightly into a frown. “They’re dry.”

“No, they’re not.”

“Yeah, they...” He cut himself off with an exasperated breath. Then, he drew his gun, aiming it at Abigail. “What’re you doin’ down here?”

Both women raised their hands as Abigail scoffed again and Ada looked between him and the ground, silent.

“What’re you gonna do with that, huh? You gonna shoot two women for hangin’ some clothes up?”

“I’m gonna shoot two women for lyin’.”

“And what’s Dutch gonna say about that, huh?”

“I don’t answer to Dutch, I ans—”

He hadn’t noticed Ada inching closer. Lunging at him, she grabbed his wrist and shoved his hand down as her leg struck between his.

Is this becoming my new tactic against tall men?

He started to cry out in pain as he dropped to his knees but her other hand swiftly covered his mouth, muffling it. Relief washed over her as no bullet was fired; part of her had expected him to pull the trigger on instinct when she went for him, and the gun couldn’t go off, it would alert everyone and that was the last thing they needed. Fortunately, though, he’d been too surprised.

Abigail wrestled the gun from him and then stepped back, aiming it at him with both hands wrapped around it. Keeping her hand over his mouth, Ada held his gaze as she kept her voice low.

“There’s gonna be no shooting, okay? We were just hanging clothes up to dry, and while you might not answer to Dutch, I don’t think the people of this camp would appreciate—”

Her legs were suddenly knocked out from under her.

“Annie!” Abigail gasped, just managing in time to stop herself from crying out.

Landing on her back with a painful groan, slightly winded, Ada then found Joe on top of her, trying to wrestle her hands away from her body and onto the ground. Gritting her teeth, she tried to push her knees against him but he was much bigger and stronger.

“Get off me,” she hissed, and he shook his head.

“Not until you tell me what you were doin’.”

“Hanging laundry up, how many times do we have to say it before it gets in your thick skull—”

“Didn’t look like you were to me—”

“Well, you’re stupid.”

They both stilled as Abigail pressed the barrel against his temple. His gaze darted up to her, and then he released Ada, who quickly scrambled out from under him and got to her feet.

Catching her breath, she watched as Abigail stared at him.

“You ain’t gonna tell anyone about this. Otherwise, you’re just gonna embarrass yourself that you got all hot and bothered over two women hanging laundry.”

He pressed his lips together, on his knees. “Well, I don’t think you were. Micah says you two aren’t to be trusted.”

“Micah says that about everybody.” Abigail was keeping very calm, and while it was unsurprising coming from Micah, it still rattled Ada a little.

“Did he tell you to watch us?” she asked, her hands going to her waist.

His eyes drifted to her. “Yeah. Says you two would probably get up to somethin’.”

“Did he, now?” Well, that wasn’t good. Briefly meeting Abigail’s gaze, she then—

For a man of his size, Joe could move fast. His hands darting up, he grabbed at the gun and Abigail hissed as she tousled with him, trying to pull it away, and the gun couldn’t go off, it couldn’t...

She almost wasn’t thinking as she moved. Surging down, her hand disappeared into her boot, pulled Thom’s knife out, unsheathed it, and then she was lunging forward once more and plunging the knife into his heart. Her other hand flew up as his eyes widened and his lips parted, but her hand covered his mouth as she stared at him, still.

Please don’t make a sound, please don’t cry out...

He twitched against her as she kept her grip tight on the knife, barely breathing in case it prompted him to make a noise. Then, his hands were falling from Abigail’s and he was slumping forward. Swiftly wrenching the knife out, she stepped backwards and he fell onto the floor, dead, the women standing over him.

Ada released a breath as she stared down at him. And then she realised what she’d done.

Her eyes widening, she looked up and met Abigail’s own, wide eyes.

“... Oh, shit.”

—

“... I got ‘em...”

Arthur turned from searching the cupboard, staring across the office in the factory at Dutch, who was holding a document in his hands, gazing down at it.

“... I got ‘em... I got ‘em...” He was incredulous, almost dazed. “... This is it.” A smile was pulling at his lips as he looked up at Arthur. “... It’s state bonds.”

“How much?” Arthur asked, even as he moved closer, hardly able to believe it himself.

He was still infuriated that Dutch had orchestrated this chaos and bloodshed so they could use it as cover to get in here but... the bonds had actually been here. Maybe, depending on how much there was, Dutch would finally be happy, and they could leave without any kind of an argument.

“It’s a... few thousand dollars worth, maybe more,” Dutch laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. “Oh, we are nearly there.”

Arthur took the document from him, inspecting it himself and... Holy shit. He looked up at Dutch with a smile, unable to believe it.

“Arthur, we’re nearly there!” Dutch laughed as he handed the document back to him, and he tucked it into his pocket. “Mr Morgan, let’s go home.”

Arthur’s smile lingered as he followed him out of the office. Yes, it was enough. It was crazy that Dutch still wanted more, but, this was enough. He was happy, therefore they could leave knowing everyone else would be okay.

They moved back across the landing towards the stairs, the place quiet now that they’d dealt with Cornwall’s remaining men. Arthur had found Eagle Flies and he’d been okay, angry still and wanting to be brave and gather the last of his men before they left, but okay. He was with the gang now, waiting outside for them.

Arthur felt relief settle over him. He was going to get the boy home, and then they could leave the gang. Tonight, maybe, even. He almost couldn’t believe it.

As they descended the stairs, Dutch suddenly paused.

“Did you hear that?”

Arthur halted, his brow dipping as he strained to hear. There was only the sound of the horses outside and the machinery in here—

“Gentlemen! We’re here for ya!”

Arthur ducked down against the banister with Dutch as he hissed out a curse at the sight of Agent Milton stepping into the factory with a small group of men.

“Your friend?” Dutch murmured.

“Get in there. Find them, shoot them!” Milton was ordering, the men scattering, before he exited.

Doesn’t like gettin’ his hands dirty.

“Come on...”

Following after Dutch, they continued down the stairs quietly, Arthur finding cover behind a wall, Dutch against some machinery.

“Come on, Arthur!” Dutch shouted as he fired at the men, Arthur joining him.

Thankfully it was only a small group, but who knew how many were outside? He had a feeling it was just these, though; if any were outside then their gang would have alerted them. Besides, with Cornwall dead and no longer funding them, this could all be that was currently left of the Pinkertons.

“Cover me!” Dutch shouted, and as he did the older man ran for new cover, heading further along the factory towards the door.

After killing two men, he then followed after Dutch, keeping low.

“We need to go, Arthur!” he heard him calling, and followed his voice.

A man darted out and Arthur quickly shot him, and then Dutch was there, beckoning him over to door.

“We got to get the hell out of here, c’mon!”

He was several feet away, so close—

A bullet sounded and collided with a pipe above Arthur. It burst, spraying hot steam onto his face and he cried out as he stumbled back, his head whipping to the side. In his shock, he stumbled over his own feet and fell to the ground with a grunt, his face tingling uncomfortably.

“We got one!”

Blinking his eyes open, he looked up to find three men a few feet away, aiming their guns at him.

“A white one!”

He was trying to rub at his eyes, his vision blurred from the steam. Suddenly, one of the men was on top of him, brandishing a knife and bringing it down.

“Dutch...” Arthur called thickly, gripping the man’s arms and trying to push them. “... Dutch! I need help!”

He glanced behind the man, trying to kick him off, and saw Dutch stood there and—

He watched him turn and walk away.

Arthur felt like his heart had stopped. But the man was still trying to bring the knife down even as he was struggling, the tip nearing his heart.

“I need help!” the man hissed himself through gritted teeth, and the two men were coming over—

Two gunshots rang out and Arthur jerked, thinking they were for him, and then another sounded and the man on top of him fell to the side with a cry. Shoving him off, Arthur looked up to find Eagle Flies there with a gun. The younger man smiled and Arthur opened his mouth to speak but then another man was behind him and—

A fourth gunshot rang out. The bullet tore through Eagle Flies’s stomach.

Arthur reacted without thinking. Grabbing at his gun he had dropped, he aimed and shot the man, watching him fall to the ground. Pushing himself up to his feet, he moved towards the boy, breathing hard.

"Ah, you, you silly fool!” he thundered in his grief, hauling him up as he felt his chest tighten. Blood was sliding down the boy’s stomach and his breaths were laboured. “Come on!”

Placing one of Eagle Flies’s arms around him, he then wrapped his own around his waist and helped him walk to the door.

“You saved my life... more than once,” Eagle Flies hissed painfully, “... To give mine for yours... it’s as it should be...”

Kicking the door open, Arthur just hauled him through.

Out on the decking, the gang was still waiting for them, and Arthur met the eyes of Dutch van der Linde as he helped the boy towards the short set of stairs.

“We need to go,” Dutch called, as if nothing had happened, as if he hadn’t just...

“You...” Arthur began in a low tone. “... You ran away!”

Charles was suddenly there, taking Eagle Flies from him as Dutch raised his hands.

“I did no such thing! Don’t be a fool.” Dropping his arms, he raised his eyebrows. “They could be back here any minute.”

Arthur stared at him, taking in deep, harsh breaths, and Dutch turned away, smiling as he addressed the group.

“We did it, gentlemen! We got some money...” His gaze returned to Arthur as the younger man moved down the stairs towards him. “... And with the train job, well, we got a whole lot of money.”

Arthur’s gaze was pulled to Eagle Flies as Charles put him on Ophelia, releasing pained groans.

“Come on...” His gaze remained on him as Dutch spoke. “... Everythin’ is comin’ together, Arthur. Exactly as I planned.”

Arthur looked at him. “I’ve got to take the boy to his father.”

Turning, he moved towards Ophelia.

“As you wish,” Dutch sighed. “Usually is nowadays.”

Arthur’s gaze darted to him, feeling like none of this was real. “Sure.”

Mounting, he heard Dutch address the group again. “C’mon, we gotta get back to camp and prepare. Let’s ride!”

Javier, Bill, Micah and Cleet immediately followed after him. Arthur lifted his head as he gathered the reins and found Charles, John and Sadie looking at him.

“I’ll be back soon,” he said, his voice sounding strange to his own ears.

“I’ll stay with you,” Charles answered, mounting his horse.

“And me, of course,” Paytah, Eagle Flies’s friend said, the boy only young himself.

“Me, too,” Sadie began to say but Arthur shook his head, finding he had to swallow hard to clear his thickening throat. “No, get out of here, please, this ain’t gonna be nothin’ nice.”

Without another look back, he kicked Ophelia into a canter, Charles and Paytah following, and Sadie and John were left watching them ride away.

—

“Gently, gently...”

“Why? He ain’t gonna feel it...”

“... Well, all right, you’re not wrong there...”

It had felt like a lifetime since they’d started carrying his body. Abigail had moved almost instantly, turning him over, checking his pockets, relieving him of his money, and then she’d grabbed his ankles and said, ‘Come on.’ Ada had just responded, sheathing the knife, tucking it away and then sliding her arms under his. He was heavy, and they’d had to stop every few minutes. Getting him up the walkways to the ladder had nearly ended them.

Her back already hurt from when he’d knocked her off her feet, with just one arm, Abigail had told her on one of their many breaks, and now it was screaming at her.

Several times they thought about just hiding him somewhere in the caves but they both knew it was just too risky. So, carrying and stopping and carrying and stopping it had been.

Ada had gone up the ladder first, one arm wrapped over his chest with her hand gripping at his shoulder as Abigail shoved him up until Ada reached the top and then hauled him up with Abigail pushing his legs. They’d taken their longest break after that, but even then it had only been a couple of minutes. They didn’t know when everyone would return, and they didn’t want to be so long that those in the camp would start asking questions.

They considered taking him to the river and letting the water carry him away but, again, too risky. He could wash up on shore, or someone at the camp could spot him passing by. So, they’d spent the last ten minutes carrying him through the woods, hoping to come across something they could hide him by.

A few times he’d knocked against rocks and trees but, as Abigail had just said, it wasn’t going to matter to him. They eventually found a ditch and dropped him into it, hoping, if anyone from the camp did come across him, it would look like another Murfree incident.

Straightening and placing her hands on her lower back, Ada groaned, rolling her shoulders. Abigail blew out a breath and brushed her hands together.

In silence, they stared down at the dead man.

“All right...” Abigail began. “... Okay... I’m gonna go and get the basket and... pretend this didn’t happen.”

Ada nodded, still trying to catch her breath. “Okay... Hey, wait.”

The other woman turned back to her, raising her eyebrows slightly.

Licking her dry lips, Ada gave her a small smile as she moved towards her. “We got the money now, Abigail. All you have to do is discreetly gather a few things and then you’re ready.”

She nodded as they started to walk together. “Okay. How d’you think it’s gonna happen?”

“Us leaving? Well, I’m hoping it’s just a nice, amicable discussion but...”

“Don’t seem too likely with how things have been goin’?”

“No,” Ada sighed, pressing her lips together. “But... If we have to leave in the middle of the night, then we will.”

“Well, I’m ready for that.”

Ada waited outside of the cave as Abigail went down to get the basket, massaging her lower back again.

God, I could do with a lie down.

When Abigail returned, they quickly went down to the river to wet the clothes, and then wandered back into camp, hanging the garments on a line between two trees. No one said anything to them, had probably not even noticed how long they’d been gone.

With a small, secretive smile and a nod to her, Abigail returned to Jack once they were done and took over from Mary-Beth, reading to him. Ada went to Arthur’s area and lay on his bed, exhaling a long breath.

She must have fallen asleep because suddenly there were voices and she knew they’d returned. Pushing herself up, she ducked under one of the blankets and stepped out, her gaze darting between the returners.

Arthur wasn’t amongst them.

It didn’t soothe her that Sadie was striding towards hers.

“Sadie, where’s Arthur?” she demanded before the other woman could open her mouth.

“He’s okay, he’s fine,” she said quickly, smiling faintly. “He’s taken Eagle Flies back to his father. The boy ain’t in good shape.”

Ada felt her stomach drop. “How bad?”

Sadie sighed quietly, shaking her head. “Real bad. Arthur said he’d be back soon, though.”

“Okay.”

“Where the hell’s Joe?”

Her gaze darted to Micah as he tutted and strode past them, heading for the table he’d left his friend at. Licking her lips, Ada nodded towards Arthur’s area.

“You want to come and have a talk?”

Her friend nodded, looking weary. “Yeah, think I will for a while.”

Sadie told her about the fight, how the oil field and factory was now burning. She wasn’t able to enlighten her on how Eagle Flies had been injured, just that Arthur had helped him out of the factory with a hole in his stomach and Arthur was saying something about how Dutch had run away. She’d left soon after, Ada not able to tell her about what she’d been up to, and even if she had, Sadie looked in need of some rest.

Ada remained on her chair, looking towards the main path, waiting for his return.

It was an hour until dawn when he did.

She’d stayed up, sleeping for a little while at a time but only dozing, really.

She knew the moment she laid eyes on him as he dismounted, looking exhausted, what had happened. Her heart broke as she stood, wrapping her arms around herself as he approached.

“Is he...?” she asked quietly as he sat down heavily on the bed.

Licking his lips, he released a breath. “Eagle Flies is dead.”

“Oh, Arthur...”

She sat next to him and took his hands. His eyes were on the ground, his head shaking slightly.

“He, uh... Got him to Rains Fall and then he... And Dutch... he left me to die.”

She froze, staring at him. “What?”

Arthur swallowed hard and shook his head again. “I was ‘bout to be stabbed and... he just walked away.”

A coldness swept over her as her heart broke again. She didn’t know what to say. He looked devastated, exhausted, resigned, incredulous. She had never seen him like this before.

“... I can’t believe it.”

Arthur inhaled a slow, almost shaking breath. “Sad thing is... I haven’t wanted to, but... I can.”

Tears clouding her vision, she wrapped her arms around him and rested her chin on his shoulder, her eyes closing.

She hated Dutch. Hated him with all her heart. But she never thought that he would do this to him.

Arthur’s arms slid around her and the tightness with which he held her was enough to have tears falling down her cheeks.

Every last hope and illusion had been shattered.

—

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