#Are you happy now Katy?

[fierykitten2]

Dear everyone complaining that Pokémon is too easy: I hope you’re having fun with the Mewtwo raid

[disaster-racing]

Ollie Bearman in Chasing The Dream s05e14

[goldkirk]

.

[roosterarts]

Baby, you're a firework

Come on, let your colors burst

Make 'em go, "Oh, oh, oh"

You're gonna leave 'em all in awe, awe, awe

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

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO @temper-temper

What's that, you thought the one I sent yesterday was the gift? Ha, it was but a mere ruse! This right here is the real gift! :3

Hope you have the happiest of days today because a great person like you deserves it!

[didsomeonesayventus]

lying down thinking about mutual pining but like. that very specific mutual pining where they both look at each other and see how happy they are with each other and feel so calm with each other and yearn for each other's company and yet for all the selfish desire they hold close to their hearts there is that singular wall between them, mortared of mutual respect and built with brick by brick of wishes for them to find all the happiness they could ask for, that keeps them apart.

It's very fragile, of course, all it takes is a single question to send that wall crumbling and see they've been staring at each other so ardently this whole time, but it's the mystery of what lays on the other side that makes them so scared to try for so long and its that delicious dramatic irony of knowing their wildest dreams is the reward for getting the courage to tear it down.

[myfriendtheghost]

I had a dream about Sam and Hannah last night and I don’t remember what all happened but apparently Sam and I were good friends but me and Hannah didn’t like each other and we (just me and Hannah) were in their hotel room (it was like in Hawaii or smth???) and she admitted to doing something that was basically cheating on Sam

and then Sam showed up and she was like “babe isn’t it so weird that Katie just showed up to our room uninvited” and he was like “well… not really 😕” and I was like “well Hannah isn’t it weird that you did *thing that was basically cheating*?” (I can’t remember what it was lol something about making out with someone else I think) and she immediately started defending herself

and then I turned and could see Sam mentally working through it and he looked really sad and then I woke up and now I’ve got beef with Hannah and want to hug Sam LMAO 😭

[dwaekkiiracha]

STOP BRO LIKE???

[alienated-idiot]

Idk why my mom thinks shouting "stop crying" at me while I'm hysterically crying will get me to stop. That woman does not have a caring bone in her body.

[alastor-simp]

Alastor x Reader - Sleeping On His Lap

Here is my attempt at a Alastor x reader fanfiction. Took me awhile to kinda get into his character so please don't be mad if Alastor seems a bit off. Enjoy!

Sigh, it was another eventful day at the Happy Hotel, or Hazbin Hotel as it was now called as a certain deer demon decided to change the name. You had spent all day doing certain tasks around the hotel such as helping Charlie create posters for the hotel, clean the rooms with Nifty, break up the brawl between Vaggie and Angel Dust as he had pissed her off one too many times and organize the bar for Husk as he was passed out drunk. You could have refused to do these things, but you enjoyed helping people, so it made it all worth it.

You had started working at the hotel after you had saw Charlie singing on the 666 news about the hotel and redeeming demons, only for her idea to be made a laughing stock upon everyone who watched the broadcast. You actually had mixed feelings about the whole redeeming thing, seeing as you weren't sure if someone like you could be sent to heaven, despite not being a very big criminal during your time when you were alive, but apparently doing a little shoplifting is enough to send you a one way ticket to hell. Charlie's words did inspire you a little bit, so even if you felt that you couldn't be redeemed, others probably had a better chance, so you decided to head to the hotel and ask for a job after the broadcast was cut off from the brawl with Charlie and Katie Killjoy. You were hired in a split second and immediately pulled into a bear hug by Charlie, and then introduced you to the others.

Back to the present, you began to feel extremely exhausted from moving around everywhere, so you headed over to one of the rooms with the long couches so you could take a rest. Heading into one of the rooms, you peeped around and saw that no one was there, which made it better as you really needed some peace and quiet. Heaving a deep sigh, you sat down on the couch, turning and falling back, as you laid your body down, with your head facing the front of the couch. "What a long day", thinking to yourself as your eyes slowly began to close and you were lulled into a deep sleep.

**2 Hours Later**

As you were sleeping, you felt the sensation of someone petting your head, the soothing feeling had awoken you a bit, but you quickly fell back asleep at the warm touch. You could feel that you were holding something in your dreams, and you assumed it was one of the pillows on the couch, so you brought it closer to your face and nuzzled it. "Mm, smells nice ", as the scent from the pillow was making you more relaxed, as it reminded you of a being in the middle of a deep forest. After sleeping for 30 more minutes, you slowly began to open your eyes, and try to make out what was in front of you. Expecting to see a pillow, you saw red stripes in front of you, "Huh?" As you were still trying to make out what was in front of you, a loud voice interrupted your thoughts: "Ah, awake now are we?", said a static voice above you. Eyes opening wide, you looked up from your position and saw Alastor staring down at you with his trademark smile. Slowly, you began to piece together that you were laying on his lap, and nuzzled into his chest as you were sleeping. "AHHHH", jumping up from your position, you rolled off his lap, and your body fell to the ground as you stared at Alastor in shock, as he continued to look at you with his glowing eyes, amused at your reaction. "Um, h-how long was I sleeping on your lap?", you softly asked, as your face was red, but your eyes were showing fear, as you remembered that Alastor did not like to be touch, and you happened to hug him in your sleep. "HAHA, For quite a while, darling. It was a very busy day, I assume?", Alastor said as he placed his arm on the armrest of the couch, and his hand against his cheek, smiling even wider.

Nodding your head, you slowly got up from your position, and started apologizing to Alastor, eyes aiming towards the ground and fingers twiddling together. Alastor raised an eyebrow and wondered why you were apologizing, to which you answered that you had hugged him in your sleep, and that he made it very aware that he did not enjoy physical contact from someone unless he initiated it, feeling extremely bad if you made him uncomfortable. Listening to you, Alastor's smile relaxed to a small grin as he looked at you with gentle eyes. He did admit that he was not use to being touch by others, and was quite surprised from the sleep hug, but he didn't detest it as much coming from you, which boggled his mind completely. It must be due to your kind and innocent nature that made him react different around you, as he was used to more of the common riff raff being terrified of him or trying to battle in a turf war, but how you were with him, made his black heart melt.

Feeling that Alastor was upset as he didn't respond to your apology, you quickly excused yourself and began to head over to the door to leave. A loud SNAP was heard and before you knew it, you had been teleported back on to the couch, this time being seated on Alastors lap. "A-Al, what are you doing?!", your face began to become as red as his hair, while your eyes stared at Alastor in shock. Smiling at you, Alastor moved his hand to your chin and tilted your face up: "There is no need to apologize, darling. If I had been upset about you hugging me, you possibly w̩͉͍̱̍̂̉̊o̫̼̐̎̋͜u͚͌l̳̓d̠͉̗͋̔͞'̼̳̣̼͊̏̾̾t͜͝ ͕̱͐͠ḇ̅e̙͗ ͍͓͔̱͍͛̔͌͘͞a̝̜̘̎́͒ḽ͒í̱̙̈́v̧̌e̠͠ ̢̹̜́́̈̀ͅr̲͇̳̅̽͌i̩͈̒̅ĝ̲̦̎ẖ̛̳̲͙̀͌̽͘ͅt͉̅ ͖̞͍̞́̋͛͛ň͚̫̦́͂̿͟o̱͌w̡̕" he said, as his eyes flashed for a second into radio dials. "However! I am not opposed to be touched by you. So no need to apologize, my dear.", Alastor said as he continued to smile at you widely, but his glowing eyes were looking at you softly, letting you know that he was not angry with you. Feeling shy, you turned your head away from Alastor, muttering a soft okay, as your heart was beating rapidly. "Smile my dear!" Alastor said as he moved his hand from your chin to your cheek, to have you look at him again. Baring through the embarrassing situation, you gave Al a small smile, which pleased him. "You always over do it, darling. While Charlie and I appreciate your efforts at helping the hotel, it does no good to work yourself to the point of fatigue. If you are ever feeling exhausted and need a break, don't be hesitant to come find me, as my radio tower is open to you. Understand, my dear?" said Alastor, as he leaned closer towards you, making you flustered again.

Nodding your head was enough to let Alastor knew you understood as he chuckled, while sliding you off his lap, and as he stood up from the couch. "Now then, we should probably head back to the lobby before the others get worried about our lack of presence.", He said, as he straighten his coat out, while turning towards you, extending his hand out for you to take it. "Yeah we should", as you grabbed his hand, and made your way with him back to the lobby. You were still trying to process what just happened between you and Alastor, but you feel like you both have become much closer then before, and you didn't mind it one bit.

[pleaktale]

I'm not sure if words are enough to describe the roller-coaster that this chapter was (it was sweet like chocolate cake but at the same time with every suspicious sentence my heart would go 150 bpm)

HE FINALLY SAID IT!!! HE'S AFRAID OF Y/N!!! SCARED TO DEATH!! BUT FOR THE RIGHT REASONS!!!!

To Live Simply

Pairing: Cowboy! Hobie Brown x fem! Reader

Word count: 13.1 k

Tags: Use of Y/N sparsely, No specific physical description of the reader (except for her clothing) (Hobie is mentioned taller than her), CW suggestive, CW food mentions, TW abuse mention, CW drinking, CW violence mention. Wild west AU, Cowboy AU.

A/N: I wrote my late dog in this to remember her by, please be nice to the dog ❤️

Our Place in the Middle of Nowhere Masterlist

Navigation

CHAPTER 8 >>> CHAPTER 9

The journey to Hobie's farm was excruciating, yet quiet and peaceful. If not for both yours and Hobie's still healing injuries it would've been a more pleasant ride. Surprisingly enough, there wasn't anyone who wanted to ambush you, and no one to point a gun at; no one to hurt you and Hobie.

The entire time you were afraid, afraid that something would happen the least you expected it. You were waiting for disaster to hit, you've never been at peace on the road, so you were high strung, hands gripping tightly around the reins while you kept your gun fully loaded and ready on your back. Luckily, nothing noteworthy happened during that one whole month of traveling west and away from the south.

Hobie clung to you like sap on wood, and you did too. You both never spoke of what happened that day, it was horrible, even now hallucinations still linger in the back of your head. Sometimes you see her staring at you on the side of the road, sometimes you smell burnt coffee out of nowhere. Hobie understood what they put you through while he lay asleep dreaming of you. He did everything he could to help you return to reality with every grasp of your hand, and with every kiss on your temple— effectively shaking you awake. You take care of him too, changing his bandages in camp, wincing with him whilst you clean his wounds.

It was just you and him, and you've got everything to lose if they ever find you.

You both were careful on the road, always traveling at night under the stars. Lighting small fires that are enough to keep you warm. You've even started to hide your face under a bandana. If it was absolutely needed to go into town, you and Hobie never stayed too long to make an impression. To everyone else, he was Larry Smith and you were his wife. To him, you were his wife in everything but on paper. To you, he was everything. You suppose it was all the same.

The horses are well kept despite the long rides, they slept well, ate even better than you and Hobie. You've noticed Cherry has become friendlier towards Bucky, and Bucky seemed to like the added attention.

Your back aches from the long ride, dawn has just begun to break. The breeze hums in your ears as you and Hobie finally make it to his farm. A piece of land in a valley and in between monstrous mountains that rise up into the clouds; and what seems to be thousands of miles of nothingness. There's nothing but land everywhere you look, the town you passed through hours ago is nothing but a dot in the far distance.

You're situated in the middle of nowhere.

“It's not much, but it's home.” Hobie stands before you, shoulders relaxed, eyes glancing towards you as if he's waiting for approval.

The farmhouse isn't as grand as your old home, it doesn't have the gilded awnings or marble pillars that seem to rise up towards the heavens. The house is made out of wood, two stories high with a simple porch that wraps around the entire structure. Its white paint is chipping, doors weathered by the elements and time. Empty flower pots sit nearby, just waiting to be used once again. Further away, a barn sits near a small pond. The structure’s red paint faded into a murky brown with dead vines covering its side. A windmill stands next to it, the blades squeak in the wind, wood creaking whenever a harsh breeze blows.

The picket fences around the property lay broken with its old chalky paint cracking and melting away. The land surrounding it doesn't look any better, it's barren and dry save for the tall brown grass growing everywhere. There are also stumps left behind by cut trees, a couple have survived long enough to grow as tall as the barn and they both sit behind the farmhouse a few paces away. It lacks any greenery you'd expect for a farm. With its dry soil underneath your feet, you're sure that there's nothing that could grow here. But you can try, plant and sow over and over again until a single leaf will sprout, until a plant bears fruit.

There's nothing else all around the place, nothing but stretches and miles upon miles of empty land. You like it that way. It's just you and him, him and you. You'd never have it any other way.

For the first time in a very long time, you feel like you can finally breathe. Fate has finally granted you reprieve.

“It's perfect.” You smile, stepping forward, reaching for his hand and then squeezing it once. “It's home.”

Hobie's lips slowly curl up into a smile, intertwining your fingers around his own. “What are we waitin' for?” With a sudden arm around the back of your knees, he gracefully carries you in his arms, earning a surprised yelp and laughter from you. You grasp at his vest, giggling against his chest. “Let's get inside.”

Even in his arms, you still feel the gnawing in the back of your mind. The danger that lurks behind the mountains, a danger that you both are ignoring for now in place of bliss. It's as if a heavy blanket is laid upon your chest, crushing you under its weight, breaking your rib cage in half, squishing your heart until a mush of blood and muscle is the only thing left in its wake.

Then, there's the nature of the man from the place you once called your home. You think he'd kill you the moment he sees you in the arms of Hobie, laughing against his chest, holding on to him as if he's your husband. Should I tell Hobie? You thought to yourself, it will ruin him. It will ruin you in his mind. Your heart thuds against your chest akin to a train engine just from thinking about it. You think it'll never go away, that it will continue to eat at you like you're a carcass left for the vultures in a dry humid desert. But for now, you stay laughing against his skin, kissing every inch of his face as he brings you inside. Until you're ready, you promise yourself that you'll tell him, even if it ruins you.

Hobie, unbeknownst to the inner turmoil you're having; kisses you back gently, dry lips against your sweaty forehead, he doesn't mind as he peppers your face. It's a battle, where you two are the winners.

You kick about in his arms, the stubble on his chin tickles you, and of course he notices it. He decides to hear you laugh, really laugh— so he nudges your head away, rubbing his stubble up and down your neck. Your giggles immediately fill the home, leaning away, hands patting his chest rapidly. If not for his hold on you, you would've fell seconds ago.

“Enough!” You shriek, but your own laughter betrays you. With every nudge, you forget about your thoughts, only focusing on the man before you.

Hobie wheezes, moving an inch away from your neck. “You sure? I don't think ‘m done yet.” He fixes his grasp on you, hand placed just above your ribs, fingers flexing, threatening to tickle you there.

You scoff, a sound similar to a giggle. “We've been on the road for a long time, Hobie, and we haven't had a proper bath in weeks!” He opens his mouth to speak. “A dip in the river doesn't count.”

With furrowed brows, he leans closer, lips curled mischievously. “You tellin’ me that I smell?”

You chuckle, hand patting his cheek lovingly. “No, I'm saying that I smell.”

“Really?” Hobie starts to lean closer but you stop him with your hand on his forehead. He smiles, trying to wiggle his head. “I was just about to check!”

There's the same glint in your eyes. You hum, cradling his jaw, pushing him gently upwards. The scar on his neck is in full display to you, Hobie tries to shake his head in protest, his sudden insecurity for the raised scar makes him think that you were second guessing your choices. But with your simple movement of pulling yourself up, enough to be eye level to the scar, and with your lips resting upon it makes him think otherwise.

He turns into honey under your touch, and you're the one licking his sweetness off of your finger tips.

You feel his staggered breath under your lips, Hobie almost drops you the second you kiss his scar. He feels your love through it all, fingers digging into your side but not enough to leave a mark. Closing his eyes, he lets you peck as your thumb runs along his Adam's apple that bops up and down with every nervous swallow. He even leans upwards to give you more space.

“I missed you.” Hobie says in a breathy whisper while you continue to attack his skin, hand pressed on your back, helping lift you up. “I should've told you that when I first—” You hold onto his nape to kiss higher, nipping gently, earning a shaky exhale from him. “—fuckin’ hell, you'll be the death of me. Five minutes in and you're already tryin’ to—”

“Knock knock?”

“Oh fuck—!” You suddenly drop down to the floor, butt aching as you stare at the visitor standing in the doorway.

“Shit—” Hobie fumbles, none of the coolness he exhibited during your journey. He tries to help you up, but then immediately decides to get his gun out that he also flounders over. His gun falls, bullets falling out, metal clanking on the dusty wooden floors. “Ah, fuck!” Kneeling down, he tries to pick up all the scattered bullets.

“Caught you in a bad time, huh?”

You glance between Hobie and the woman in the doorway. Hobie sighs, eyes staring daggers at the stranger. Her curly hair is styled in braids, leather chaps and jacket matching, hands casually placed inside her jean pockets. The sun behind her drapes her in gold, the same colour as the hat sitting atop her head. Her genuine smile is one of those contagious smiles that turns your frown into a friendly grin, you smile wider when you meet with her eyes that are laced with amusement. She gives you a wink, and then returns her attention towards Hobie who has given up on picking up his ammo.

“No, no, take your time, Hobie.”

He sighs, head falling down in shame. “What are you doin' ‘ere, Riri?”

“I was on my routine check. Imagine my surprise when I saw Bucky frolicking outside with a new horse.” Riri enters, hand reaching towards you. “The name's Riri, a friend of Hobie's.”

You smile up at her, taking her hand as she gracefully lifts you back up on your feet. “Y/N, nice to meet you.”

“Oh, I know who you are.” She shakes your hand, leaning slightly to whisper in a louder tone. “You're even prettier than what this loser told me.”

Hobie sighs, “Riri, c’mon—”

“Why don't you get up, cowboy?” Riri lets your hand go, she then crosses her arms over her chest whilst you watch them interact.

Hobie stays kneeling, turned away from you and Riri, hand conveniently on his lap. “Don't you dare tell her shit, Riri.” He says, green eyes narrowed into slits.

You tamp down a laugh, glancing down at Hobie who just shakes his head with a ghost of a smile. You're tempted to tease him too, but Riri catching you two in the act was enough embarrassment for him.

“You told stories about me?” If your cheeks could run any warmer, you can boil water on it.

“He's a chatterbox when he's drunk.”

“He is?” You turn towards the said man, beaming at him.

“Don't you have anythin' better to do—?” Hobie gets ignored as Riri continues to chat with you. He resigns, huffing in place.

“Mm-hmm, he says the craziest shit. You think he's all that out there but the second he drinks his third glass, he's out in my saloon yammering about something. Sometimes that something has to do with you.” She pauses, nudging your shoulder. “Don't worry, he only tells me the good stuff. I practically already know you.” Your eyes widen. “Not in a weird way, in a…”

“Good job, Ri, you made it awkward.” Hobie eggs her on.

Riri rolls her eyes. “She knows what I'm talking about, right?” She turns to you, smiling softly like she's already trying to apologize.

“That so? Don't worry, I understand what you meant.” You flick your eyes towards Hobie, who's still unable to stand up. “Since you already know me—”

“Ah, yes!” She claps her hands in understanding. “You may go to my saloon and dig more details about what Hobie's been doing these past five years.” Riri meets Hobie's eyes. “You never know, you might even come across our old gang.”

You copy her, teasing Hobie even more. “The more the merrier then.”

“Great,” Hobie huffs, finally standing up. “You've created a monster, Riri.”

“Don't call her a monster!” Riri acts offended for you.

“Yeah! Don't call me a monster!”

Hobie could only sigh in defeat. He mumbles under his breath, fingers pinching at the bridge of his nose. “If I wasn't so tired.”

“Oh that reminds me.” You say excitedly, you've finally found a friend after everything that has happened. “Do you want to stay for tea?”

“We don't have anythin', love.” Hobie gestures towards the near empty kitchen cabinets that were left open.

Riri smirks at the name he used for you. Hobie warns her with a look. “That would be great, but I gotta go back out there. I heard there's a huge deer roaming around and I want to be the one to get it before anyone else does.”

“That's too bad.” You're genuinely disappointed.

“Yeah, that's too bad.” Hobie copies sarcastically, less disappointed.

Riri chuckles, “don't worry, Y/N, my saloon's always open for you.” She clasps your shoulder. “Welcome to Scarlett Meadows, Y/N.”

“Thank you, Riri. It was a pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise, love,” Riri mocks him. Hobie audibly groans, she smacks his chest. “Welcome back, loser.” With a flourish, Riri exits the house and then jumps back on her horse to ride away. Hobie closes and locks the front door behind her.

“I like her already.”

Hobie wraps his arm around your middle, pulling you close for an embrace. “‘m glad, she's a good friend.”

You nuzzle his shoulder, to which he takes your cheek, already leaning down to meet you halfway. “The mood's ruined, Hobs.”

“Goddamnit.” He says, yet he still chuckles against your lips. Letting you go, you stay locked with his eyes while walking backwards towards the stairs. “Where are you goin'?” There's a growing smile on yours and Hobie's lips.

“You coming, cowboy?” You ask, and you see him flustered once again. Biting his lip, tapping his foot, and hands on his hips. As you head upstairs, you hear his heavy footsteps follow you; until you feel his arms wrap around you impatiently, carrying you the rest of the way while your laughter rings around the house.

—

Hobie, under the gaze of the sun, with his sweaty work shirt sticking to his skin as he hammers the windowsill in place; fixing the once shoddy workmanship left by the previous owner. You ogle him unabashedly. The ring that was previously hidden under the fabric of his bandana now sits upon his ring finger, you cried when you first saw it there for the first time in five years. He held you then, just like how he cradled you back when he gave the identical one to you.

He clings on the tresses that are filled with dried vines and creaking from his added weight. He hangs precariously, as if he's an expert climber at heart; you can't help but stare at him as he works on your shared home. You suppose you could use the old shakey tresses as your excuse on why you're watching him instead of tilling the land like you're supposed to. Telling him that you're only keeping watch of him just in case he falls so you could catch him. Which is impossible by itself, you'd break all your bones if you tried. But you suppose it'll be alright if it's for him. As if he feels your eyes on him, he looks over his shoulder, a smile slowly curling on his lips as he spots your form still kneeling on the same spot he left you in twenty minutes ago.

The soil balled up into your hands sits there forgotten. A bag of cherry tomatoes sits next to you, wind almost taking them in its breeze as one passes by. You don't look away when he calls you out after you were caught. Instead, you stare harder, unabashedly winking at him. To which earns a hearty laugh from Hobie who almost falls from his bout of laughter.

You stagger, hands raised towards him as if you can catch him from where you are. “Careful!”

Hobie continues to laugh, calming your worries. “‘m alright, you should watch your tomatoes—” a strong wind picks up, with summer almost completely gone as the colder breeze carries your bag of seeds away from you. “And there it goes!” His guffaw fades from behind as you scramble for the seeds.

“Fuck!” You yell, hand placed on your sun hat so it doesn't get blown away. Despite you running at full speed towards what could be next season's meal, you smile widely, you're at peace here.

Hobie follows after you, running and catching up to you in a mad dash. “Hurry slowpoke!” He passes you, laughing as he goes.

“Slowpoke?! C’mere you little—!” Hobie suddenly stops and then turns around to catch you mid sprint. Your body slams into him, earning a grunt from Hobie, but his smile stays as he holds you in his arms.

“Gotcha!” He embraces you in place, face nudging your shoulder fondly.

“You're all sweaty!” You shriek out happily, hand placed upon his waist, fists clumped in his shirt. The seeds belong to the wind now, you suppose.

“You're no better! You're covered in dirt, lovie!” Hobie playfully wipes his cheeks on your airy shirt, leaving streaks of sweat on the soft linen. You laugh louder, trying to scramble away. And he feels like he has finally found his home in your arms.

You wipe your soil marred hands on his shoulders, leaving your hand prints on his once pristine shirt. You suddenly stop giggling, Hobie thinks he did something wrong until he follows your line of sight. There, a few ways away from the two of you, stands a black dog eating from your bag of seeds.

“Is that a coyote?” You ask, still holding on to him.

“Don't think so.” He whispers back.

“She shouldn't eat that, it might get her sick.” You untangle yourself from Hobie, and then you slowly make your way towards said dog. Hobie stops you halfway, hand gently on your shoulder.

“It might bite you.” He roams his eyes over to her black coat and long tail, her ears are floppy on the side of her head as she continues to munch on the crunchy seeds. There's no collar or any indication that she has an owner, she looks fine and somewhat healthy. Before he could take you away just in case the dog decides that you're a better meal, you're running back towards the house in a mad dash. “Where are you goin'?”

“I'm getting some jerky!”

“What? Why?!” He yells back as you get further and further away.

“Just stay there and watch her!” Your dusty boots are already stomping away inside as Hobie does what you told.

Hobie crouches down, elbows sitting atop his knees, watching the dog chow down. The black labrador pauses from eating from the presence watching her, head peeking out from the bag. Her dark eyes blink at Hobie, he waits for her, hand reaching out in a friendly manner and trying not to scare her away with any sudden movements. The dog sniffs, tail slowly wagging as she walks forward.

You watch from behind, eyes growing wider as you see Hobie let the dog sniff at his hand. When she finally lets him pet her head, Hobie looks back at you with a soft smile.

“Look at you, you're an animal whisperer.”

“Nah, I bet she was just hungry and knows how to swindle.”

Chuckling, you saunter towards them slowly, kneeling beside Hobie, you place the dried meat beside her. “There you go, it's better than some seeds.”

Hobie observes how you gently smile at the friendly dog as she tentatively sits in front of the meat. You let the dog approach you, waiting patiently as she eats until there's none left. She sniffs your knee, nudging you with her snout. He laughs as you surrender the rest of the beef jerky.

It's a peaceful silence of him and you just sitting there on the dry grassy ground while the strange dog eats his entire supply of jerky. He suppose he can always run to the general store for more.

The sun is high up, yet it's a comfortable heat on his skin. He preferred summers here, the searing heat always kept him awake and alert. But with you now here, he prefers how the cooling wind nips at his skin, how the leaves are now turning into sunsets that you always adore. And how much you wake up clinging to his side every morning. He prefers this, living with you, finally experiencing life again as if he picked up a book from where he left off years ago; it took some time and a lot of hurt to get here, but he would've done it all over again if it ended just like this. Maybe he'd do better, maybe he would make better decisions— for now, instead of lamenting about all the things that have happened, he'd rather stay in the present where you're currently in.

“I think we should keep her.” You say after a few moments. Hobie just now noticed how the dog now lays on your lap, probably sleeping off her meal. Your hand rubs softly on her back, eyes shining under the sun. “My aunt never let me have pets, she said that a proper lady shouldn't smell of wet dog.”

“Look at you now, covered in dirt, sweat and dog slobber.”

“She'd fucking die.” You laugh, it's the first time you've ever laughed after mentioning her. You finally feel like the shackles of her memory are starting to loosen up against your ankles.

Your happy laughter is slowly replaced with a sob, Hobie, with tears in his own eyes, holds you against him. Arms enveloping you, hands cradling your head as if the simple movement would take it all away. He wishes it did, but he knows that it will take time, and he'll wait, and be there for you no matter how long it takes. Even if it doesn't fully go away.

Under the sunshine of autumn, dry blades of grass underneath you, breeze whispering and carrying your sobs into the wind; Hobie holds you like nothing else matters, like it's just you and him, him and you against the bloody, forsaken world.

—

Clover the dog has taken upon you, you named her after the first piece of clover that sprouted along the property after you and Hobie toiled away for weeks just trying to keep it all alive. You've both fallen into a routine, you two wake up later than you both intended, snuggling under the thick covers. Always rushing through the routine to have more time to tend the house. You share chores, you cook in the morning while he cooks dinner. He fixes the house, while you try to revive the farmland. At night, you check all his previous injuries for any signs of it opening up; and he does it to you too, as gentle and careful like you were. All in all, you're proud of what you two have accomplished.

It's your very own borrowed heaven.

The house is now fully painted a soft blue; the same shade you both saw when you crossed the ocean to this new land. The door that was once a murky, muddy brown is now in a snowy white that matches the windows and picket fences. The fences aren't complete yet, the rest are still laying next to the barn where Cherry and Bucky hunker down every night after an energetic ride around their pen that used to be covered in piles of old wood and metal scraps. It took an entire week to clean it up even with the combined powers of you, Hobie, and Riri, who decided to pay you two a visit from time to time. She said that she was only making sure that the ‘loser’ hasn't hurt you in any way. To which Hobie promptly rolled his eyes and threw a plank of wood at her feet, to his words ‘make yourself useful instead of being a pain in my own home.’ You joked that he's starting to sound like one of those old men who would chase people out of their property if someone would step a foot onto his grass. And of course he had to call you grandma for the rest of the day in front of Riri because of it.

You sigh in content, smiling eyes roaming along the greener grass from the porch where you sit; and following along bucky and cherry who are running freely around their paddock. Clover huffs in your lap, and you chuckle, wondering what she's dreaming about. The wind picks up, rustling the leaves in the trees, and carrying it in its breeze. The swing under you shifts from the strong wind, hinges creaking along as you push with your socked feet. Hobie built you this swing right on the porch when he found you looking at the stars with your back aching from the lack of a seat. To add to it, he made it so that it'll fit you and him together with Clover sleeping on your lap.

You cover yourself more with Hobie's jacket, shivering slightly, nose and fingers cold. There's a sudden warmth on your cheek, you don't flinch or gasp from the surprise, knowing that it's Hobie with a warm cup of tea.

“Hi,” you smile up, Hobie returns the grin. He looks softer, edges rounded up. He's fresh from a bath, skin smelling of lavender and citrus. He prefers to wear softer and fleecy clothes now, leaving all the leather behind unless he's going for a ride towards town. Now he likes wearing knitted jackets that keeps him warm and comfortable without the stiffness of leather. He prefers jeans now too, and shirts with no collars that clings to his scar uncomfortably. A testament to how the first two buttons on his work shirt are unbuttoned, showing off his chest. “You look handsome.”

“When do I not?” He holds your cup in one hand and a glass of amber in the other. The golden ring in his ring finger shines in the afterglow.

You tilt your head playfully, taking his glass instead of the mug, eyes never leaving his own. He raises a brow when you take a sip from the glass, feeling the burn from the alcohol line your throat. “You're right, never. You always look good.” Your words are only for him and him only as you whisper it.

“Damn right.” He accepts defeat, letting you drink his whiskey while he drinks from your mug of tea. Clinking his glass against your own, you let out a snort, scooching to allow him space as he sits.

The warm liquid seeps into his calloused hands, eyes flicking over to you and between the land that he once thought was barren. Your plants still haven't borne fruit, but the greenery has sprouted like a miracle on dead soil. You almost gave up on the first month when nothing was working in your favour when the ground was still dry and grey. But you didn't, you kept at it everyday, tilling the soil, planting and replanting, watering everything until a single sprout appeared overnight. You jumped for joy when you saw, he still smiles remembering you running towards him with Clover in tow, and slamming yourself against him just to snog him until he was breathless.

He couldn't have made this into a house without you. This wouldn't be a home without you either.

You poke his cheek, feeling how much softer it is than before. “Whatever you're thinking about, stop it.”

“You want me to stop thinkin’ ‘bout you?”

You groan with a smile, head plopping down on his shoulder. “You never fail to rile me up.”

“Pot meet kettle, love.” He looks at you lovingly, like how a man would stare into the eyes of his wife.

Smiling, you place the mouth of your glass on his lips, letting him sip from the amber while he does the same with his tea placed on your own lips. You both drink, arms crossed over the other, lending each other's hand over the other.

You gulp down the warmth, letting it seep through your bones and muscles, letting it relax into you like a hug from a beloved.

Meanwhile, Hobie never let his eyes off you. Deep green eyes, the same colour as the sea of clovers in front of the home, has found its place on your lips, watching you drink from his cup while he drinks from your own.

A comfortable silence settles over the three of you. Clover snores on your lap, happy and content after finding her home. Hobie's hand kneads at your nape, letting his cool hands settle over your warm skin. With your head placed on his shoulder, you bask in your personal paradise. The birds chirp just a few ways away from you, finding their nests settled on the windmill that you two haven't fixed just yet. The sunset paints the entire farm in shades of orange and pink, hues of autumn blanketing the peaceful place you and Hobie built.

This is home, not the marbled walls of the manor you used to reside. Not the fine silks you used to sleep on, *this is home; with it's rough edges, broken pipes that groan in the night, with its walls made from wood and brick that feels cold on your skin— it's home, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

You feel him shift closer to you, lips pressing softly against your temple. His hand tracing above your scar. “Shoulder feelin’ alright?”

Humming, you close your eyes as he peppers kisses from your temple down to your wind whipped cheek. “It's feeling much better now, thanks to you.” He takes your glass and places it down on the floor right next to his own mug.

“I didn't do much.” Hobie chuckles, returning to your side not a moment longer, his knuckles brushes along your collarbone. “‘sides, you did all the healin’”

You sigh, eyes meeting up with his own. He can see love in your simple gaze. “Yeah, only because you've cleaned it every night before bed.” Hobie chuckles when you poke his stomach, in return, he nudges his nose against your own, earning a soft hum of approval from you. “How's your head? And everything else?” You narrow your eyes playfully, “can you still count to a hundred?”

His loud guffaw makes you laugh. Shaking his head, he pulls you closer. “It's good,” he says against your lips, breath fanning across your soft skin. “I've got a good nurse.”

“Your nurse didn't go to school for it.” You joke again. Hobie pecks your lips once, twice, until you're pulling him in by his shirt. You feel his smile throughout it all. He kisses you gently, yet he holds you like he's about to lose you.

The much needed kiss is interrupted by Clover sneezing on your lap, snot covering your flowy skirt. You pull away with a laugh, eyes still closed as his fingers still grips your chin, already feeling him pull you in once again.

“Hobie.” You call while he continues to snog you, kissing along the shape of your lips, etching how your lips feel, and how you sigh against him; how you kiss back wholeheartedly.

He hums, murmuring your name while the sound of his kisses echo around the porch and atop the songs of birds flying overhead.

You giggle as his searing hands find its way under your shirt and onto your stomach. He pauses, eyes blinking slowly at you. You clamp down, shining lips shut closed as he raises a brow.

“What? You ticklish now?” Hobie asks with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

You shake your head with a smile. “Nope.”

There's a grin slowly forming on his equally shiny lips. “I think I need to reacquaint myself, I don't remember you being ticklish—” he pokes your side. “—right ‘ere.”

You gasp in feigned offense, “I'm not!”

“You sure ‘bout that?” Wiggling his fingers, you laugh, reaching for his hands before he could attack.

“Okay! Only on that part.” You confess with a breathy laugh. He nods, tucking that information inside his head to be used one day.

Hobie returns to his drink, opting to sip at what was supposed to be your tea. The tea is now tepid, but he still drinks it anyway. You push the swing with your feet, softly, the swing sways back and forth while Clover lays asleep with your hand petting her head.

“We should take Riri up on her offer.” You say into the growing dark of the farm, watching the sun go further down and the light fade away. “It's been three months since she first invited us over.”

“She can wait,” Hobie has latched himself on you, arm snaked around your middle as he finishes his tea.

“Want to hog me all to yourself then?”

“That obvious?” He glances at your beaming face before his eyes stare at Bucky and Cherry trotting inside the barn on their own. Sometimes he thinks those two are actually humans trapped inside a horse's body. He has never seen smarter horses than them.

“Are you worried? About me getting back out there?” You play with the button of his work shirt, letting his scent waft over you when a breeze carries it towards you.

“What if…” Hobie sighs, eyes staring at you with worry. It's a grip taking hold around his body. “What if someone finds us again?” He remembers all the times you two were found by both the law and your aunt’s hired guns even when he took extra precautions. There's still that looming threat especially with how suspiciously peaceful your journey to the farm was. He has every right to be worried, you are too. “As much as good you are with a gun, I don't want to see you shootin’ it at someone again. ‘m… not tryin’ to control you, I just—”

You hold his cheek, thumb brushing along his jaw tenderly, feeling all the tiny scars left on his skin. “No, I understand. You're not like them, Hobie. No one will ever control me ever again.” At your words, he leans towards your touch, hand lifting up to meet with yours. “I won't let them.” Nodding, he kisses your palm, you notice how his hand shakes above your own. You don't mention it. “It's been five months since the train, they might have given up.”

“Let's hope so.” He softly says, green eyes gazing at you. Eyes that haven't seen peace in years, until now.

“Yeah, hope.” It's a fickle thing, but it's enough to light a fire in you. If they come, you'll fight with everything you've got. You've got everything to lose now, and you're willing to wield a gun once more to protect it all. If not, then it'll be a gift that you won't throw away, you'd live here peacefully, live the life you've always longed for. You're afraid that it would be the former.

—

You saddle up the horses in the barn, Buckeye watches your every move as you strap the saddle over to Cherry. There’s worry in his inky eyes, a look that you're all too familiar with. Clover runs around the barn, sniffing everything she comes across.

“You alright there, Buck? What's got you all worried, huh?” You don't expect him to answer, but he neighs in response, a sharp one that has you raising a brow. You've never heard him make that irritated sound. “What's gotten into you?” As you slide your hands down on Cherry's stomach to finish the saddle, Bucky, neighs loudly, hooves thumping against the ground. He looks like he's about to rush into you and throw you over. “Bucky, calm down!” You put your hands up, staying away from both horses.

“Buckeye!” Hobie's booming voice ricochets around the barn as he enters, putting a stop to Bucky's tantrum. Even Clover stops running for a second before returning to her adventure. “What's gotten into you, boy?” He pets his snout, effectively calming him down.

“I was putting on Cherry's saddle and he suddenly got mad.”

“He looks alright.” Nodding, Hobie roams his eyes all over his horse, checking each of his horse shoes in case there's something embedded in his feet. “Nothin’s wrong with him. What about Cherry? He's been overprotective of her lately.”

“Ah shit, do you think I put it on too tight?” Hobie keeps his hold on Bucky's reins, just in case. You check all the belts and buckles on the saddle, finding the fit just right. Until you get to her stomach. “Wait—” hands roaming around, you feel a bump. “What is that?” Cherry looks at you, if horses could raise their brow, she would've done it already. “Are you—?!” You gasp, eyes meeting with Hobie. Glaring at the horse next to him, you embrace Cherry. “Bucky, what did you do to Cherry!”

He already knows what you found. “I think it was a combined effort, love.” Scratching the back of Bucky's ear, Hobie chuckles at your reaction. “You did not waste time, huh, boy?”

“She's smaller than him!” You look at Bucky as if he can explain himself, to which the horse just huffs at you. Hobie keeps patting Buckeye on his back, while Cherry isn't even listening in on the conversation anymore. She prefers the pile of hay next to her, eating without a care.

“And? You are too compared to me.” Hobie unabashedly answers for Bucky. You gasp then laugh, a laugh that changes to a playful offended chortle. You grab a bucket from the ground, ready to throw it at him.

“You should run, Hobie!” Before you could finish yelling, Hobie's already sprinting back inside the house. You run after him, bucket in hand, ready to throw carrots at him.

Hobie waits for carrots to be pelted at him, only to turn around to see you gawking at the planted vegetable patch before you. He stops by the steps on the porch, hands on his hips as you let go of the bucket with a thud.

“What's wrong?”

“They've grown.” You whisper in disbelief, Hobie almost didn't catch your words. Chuckling, you look at Hobie with tears in your eyes. “We’ve got tomatoes!” Pouncing on him, he catches you, arms holding you in place while you celebrate against his neck.

He roams his eyes downwards towards the tomatoes until he spots a handful of it just under a bunch of leaves. “Holy shit!” Hand behind your head, he jumps up and down, matching your excitement. “You did it, love!”

You lean away, and then immediately peppers his face with a dozen kisses, leaving him almost dizzy. Before he could kiss back, you're already back on the ground, plucking the ripest looking one. It's as big as your hand, red and plump; ripe for the taking. All the countless times you've read botany books have finally borne fruit.

Wiping the dirt off of the tomato on your shirt, you hand it to him. “Wanna do the honors?”

“This is all you, lovie.” He gently places it back in your palm, hand lingering on yours; identical rings shining brightly.

You nod as thanks, heart beating rapidly. With a tentative bite, you let the juice coat your mouth, overflowing until it's dripping from your chin. It's perfect, and Hobie thinks you look perfect even with juice sliding down your chin and arm.

“Do you want a room? Because I can go.” Hobie jokes, you laugh heartily.

“Here,” you say, mouth full. “Try it.”

Hobie takes it, biting down just as the same as you, with juices flowing down his arm and onto his shirt. “Fuck!”

You nod rapidly, pride filling your chest. “Right?!”

“Y/N,” he calls, mouth still taking bites of the produce. Gesturing towards the neighboring plants, he watches as your expression morphs into pure elation when you spot your potatoes growing out of the soil, like bald heads peeking out from underneath.

There's dozens of them all lined up and ready to be harvested. You almost guffaw, satisfied and successful at growing something on the once thought barren land.

“We're gonna need a basket.” Perhaps your trip to Riri's saloon will have to wait.

—

The trip to town took longer since Cherry was out of commission, and you only had Bucky to take with you on the ride. By the time you and Hobie make it to Riri's saloon, lunch was in full swing. The place is smaller compared to the other establishments you've been in, and yet, it doesn't lack the energy. Customers line the bar, eating and drinking their fill. Jaunty music fills your ears just as when the saloon doors close behind you, Hobie's hand is placed on the small of your back, fingertips pressing softly, leading you towards the far end of the saloon where the bar is placed.

You roam your eyes around, the band plays on a stage in your right, cello, fiddles and trumpets play alongside the piano. Customers dance around with their partners, smiling faces whizz past you, giving you a polite greeting as you go. There are numerous tables littered around with the people sitting there and chatting energetically, their conversations rising above the music.

A hearty laugh above reaches your ears, when you look up, you see a spiral staircase that leads to the second floor with a balcony. A few patrons look down at you with their drinks in their hands, some are watching the poker game with amusement in their eyes. Drinking glasses clink around while you continue to make your way towards Riri who happens to be tending the bar.

The walls are in a creamy white with rows upon walls of paintings full of portraits and landscapes. There's a giant moose antler above the bar, looming over everyone. The place smells of booze and whiskey. Oddly enough, the scent of melted chocolate lingers above the fog of rum and moonshine. A crystal chandelier hangs high up on the ceiling, the centerpiece of the saloon. Sunlight from the windows filters through the brightly coloured glass, drenching the walls and floor with a kaleidoscope of light.

“Hey, Hobie!” Someone yells from above, Hobie gives them a curt nod. A handful of people recognize him, some greet him kindly like an old friend would. Some gaze at him with trepidation in their eyes.

A stranger with an eyepatch clasps his shoulder before staggering outside. Hobie chuckles and rolls his eyes at the older man.

“Someone's popular.” You whisper.

“A side effect of my reputation.” He smiles gently, fingers tapping on the small of your back. Leading you towards the corner of the bar, the far end where the back door sits behind it; he settles the two of you there, further away from strangers that could make you uncomfortable.

“Finally!” Riri exclaims, “the prodigal son returns!” Everyone at the bar hoots and whistles at Hobie. He ignores each of them, earning some booing and hissing from the crowd. You chuckle from seeing Hobie hide his smile under the brim of his hat. Riri slides in front of you, beer bottle in hand and then plops it in Hobie's waiting hand. “And with the prettiest girl this side of town has ever seen. What have you two been up to in your little slice of heaven, huh? Haven't seen you in months.”

“Busy with the farm.” Hobie says against the lip of his bottle, hand never leaving your back.

“Farm? Your dirt farm? You sure it's not you getting busy with our girl here, eh, Hobs?” Riri gives you a knowing look, you're flustered enough as it is. Hobie just shakes his head, eyes roaming everywhere but your eyes or Riri's.

You clear your throat. “We actually managed to grow something out there. We've got tomatoes, potatoes and even some carrots and strawberries blooming.” Your genuine smile turns Riri's playful one to a proud grin. “We'd bring you some of our harvest but we only rode on Bucky. We didn't want to stress him out further.”

“Why's that?” Riri cleans a glass with a cloth, “Is Cherry sick? We've got a veterinarian here for that.”

“No, she's pregnant.”

“Goddamn, Bucky did not waste any time.”

Hobie nods, “that's what I said.”

“Let's hope his rider doesn't do the same, eh?” She sends you both a wink.

“Fuckin' hell, Riri.” Hobie squeezes the bridge of his nose whilst you're left blubbering from her words. “Is there lunch left for us?” He says with a sigh.

“If you're nice about it, yeah.” Riri looks over at you. “Except for you, pretty, there's always a meal here for you.” You smile, head tilting towards Hobie's shoulder from bashfulness.

“Roast beef still on the menu?” Hobie asks, bottle half empty, stomach growling.

“Say please.” Riri says pointedly.

Hobie huffs, flicking his eyes towards you briefly before surrendering. “...please.”

Riri smirks, “it's always on the menu.” Hobie rolls his eyes at that.

He pokes your back, knuckles tracing around where he poked you. “How ‘bout you? Riri's chef can cook anythin’ you want.”

“Don't steal my words, Hobie.” Riri raises a brow. “Karl can make you anything you want.”

You laugh nervously at the eyes staring and waiting for you. “Uh, I'll have what he's having. And…” Hobie encourages you with a smile and a squeeze on your back. “Soup, any kind of soup you've got available.”

Riri pats the back of your hand with a soft smile. “We've got pumpkin, is that alright?”

“It's perfect.” You turn towards Hobie who's beaming at you, hiding his face with the brim of his hat from the rest of the customers.

—

You watch and listen with a smile in your seat, hand clasped around a glass of orange juice. The band ramps up their set, the music has gotten jauntier and happier right after you finished eating. More people have left the bar to either dance or play poker upstairs. Hobie still sits behind you, fingers curled around your belt loop lovingly. You feel him tapping rhythmically to the sound of the snare drum.

Looking over your shoulder, he nods at you with a soft smile. “They're good, aren't they?” You ask, chin atop your shoulder.

“Yeah, but I think you can beat them.”

You roll your eyes with a chuckle, fully twisting around on the bar stool to wipe a drop of sauce at the tip of his chin, fingers lingering there for a moment. “It's not a competition, Hobs.”

Before Hobie could give a reply, Riri slides over with a slice of chocolate cake. “You know how to play?”

You eye the dessert. “The piano, but I haven't practiced in a while.”

“She's bein’ humble. She's bloody brilliant on the keys.” Hobie takes the plate from Riri with a quick thank you, and then he places it in front of you casually.

You almost protested, thinking that Hobie yanked another customer's order. But Riri proves your thoughts wrong when she, herself, hands you a small fork for your dessert. You mumble a soft thank you, too shy, too grateful to say it louder lest you burst into tears. The cake has chocolate swirls with a large, plump strawberry on top of it. You don't waste time digging in.

“Isn't there an old broken piano at your place?” Riri continues the conversation, eyes flicking to your happy face with a soft smile.

“Yeah, been thinkin’ ‘bout fixin’ the damn thing but I have no idea how.” You almost actually cried on your cake when Hobie said those words.

“I think old man Roberto can fix it.” You savour the cake, listening in on the conversation.

“Your pianist?”

“Yeah, he's a doctor too, did you know that? Pretty great if you ask me—” Riri pauses, you follow her confused look. You see Hobie's stony expression, green eyes aflame like greek fire engulfing an entire fleet of ships. You and Riri have the same idea by following his gaze. She clears her throat at the sight, while you only see a broad shouldered man on the stairs, watching the band play.

“You okay?” You feel worried all of a sudden, what if this was another Culver situation? “Do you know him?”

“An old…acquaintance. Don't worry, he just owes me money.” Patting your back, he doesn't want to lie to you. What would that even bring?

“Oh, alright.” You slide the plate over to him. “I saved you some cake.”

Hobie chuckles, “nah, it's all yours, love.”

“Thank you,” you take the plate back. “I was just being nice.” Hobie shakes his head with a chuckle, you miss how he's having a silent conversation with Riri while you chow down.

“What did you even put in this, Riri? It's so fucking good!” With your fork, you scrape the plate to gather the rest of the chocolate icing. You have no shame at this point, it's the best cake you've ever had.

Riri takes a while to reply, so you lift your head up to see what's going on. You're met with her genuine smile. “Don't thank me, thank my grandma, it's a family recipe.”

“Well, thank you, Riri's grandma.”

Hobie stares at something behind you, Riri interrupts you before you could look over your shoulder. “Do you want to meet the band?”

“Holy shit! Really?” You grin from ear to ear, turning to see Hobie give you a nod and a small smile. “Do I have something in my teeth?” You grin widely, Hobie shakes his head, amused by you.

“Yeah, they're really nice. Come on, let's get you acquainted.” Riri jumps over the bar effortlessly, taking you by the hand and leading you towards the dance floor.

“I'll be back, Hobie!” You excitedly say over your shoulder as Riri twirls you around in the middle of the crowd. Hobie chuckles in his seat, drinking a cup of tea. He hears Riri ask you to dance, to which you happily agree.

Hobie keeps an eye on you, and he trusts Riri to keep you safe until he's done dealing with him. Hobie watches as Miguel saunters off towards him, spurs clinking as he sits down on your seat.

“Looks like Riri took your girl.” He says while ordering a beer from the other bartender.

“Why didn't you tell me that it was her, Miguel?”

Miguel catches the drink in his open palm as the bottle slides from the other end to his hand. “Simple, I didn't know who she was.” He cracks it open by banging the cap against the edge of the bar. The metal clanks on the floor as it falls.

“Bullshit, O’Hara.” Hobie says through clenched teeth.

“She has a sweet tooth doesn't she?” He refers to your almost clean plate.

“Miguel.” Hobie utters more pointedly, taking the beer from his hand before he even takes a sip. “Why didn't you tell me it was her?”

Miguel sighs, “I didn't know it was her. But I had a hunch. People at camp talk y’know. And you're a blabber mouth when you're drunk. A deadly combination.” He eyes his beer bottle, Hobie waits for more answers. “The guy who gave me the job just gave me her description. The same description I gave you, Hobie. Not my fault you didn't recognize her.”

“Who gave it to you?”

Miguel flexes his hand, asking for his drink back. Hobie clenches his jaw before sliding the bottle back to him reluctantly. “You should thank me. I got you two together again.”

“Just tell me, Miguel, or I'll ask for that bounty you owe me.”

“You technically didn't complete the job, so…” Hobie stares at him with the same look that Miguel has only seen him sport when he has his target in his crosshairs. “It was a middleman. He said his boss was an oil baron of some kind.” He’s about to take a sip, but doesn't. Grimacing when he brings the bottle back down to only see Hobie having the same fiery look. It brings a shiver down his spine. “Can you stop?”

“Who?”

“Don't know, didn't ask.”

“She could've died, Miguel.” That thought has him trembling in place. Hobie balls his fists, hiding how the mere thought of it shakes him to his core.

“She would've died either way, Hobie. But she had you, if I gave the job to any other person, she would've. Trust me, I did not know it was her, or that you even knew her. It's not like I made her come here.”

Hobie inhales sharply. “It wasn't you who sent the letter?”

“What fucking letter?”

“I sense some tension in the air. You know, conducting business in my establishment isn't allowed. Except if you involve me.” Riri jumps to Miguel's side, taking the beer from his hand, chugging it as sweat drips from her brow. With a sigh, Miguel orders another beer.

“Where's Y/N?” Hobie answers his own question when he sees you playing the piano with the rest of the band. His lips curl up into a smile, fists unclenching at the music you're playing. You're having the time of your life.

“Relax, Romeo, she's fine.” Riri claps to the rhythm. Hobie hears your hearty laugh from where he's sitting. The saloon's band seems to be having fun too.

In Hobie's mind, everything clicks in place. “It was you who sent my letter.” Hobie jabs his finger on Riri's shoulder blade.

She snorts, “of course it was me. I couldn't handle your sulking any longer. Seriously, I was losing customers because of your weekly letter writing and crying session.”

Miguel laughs, he sees Hobie's glare and tamps down to a snicker. Riri leans in the bar to yank a bottle of whiskey from underneath the shelves.

“Why?”

“You weren't happy being a lone ranger.”

Hobie feels like lightning struck him. “Fuckin' hell, Riri, you could've said somethin'. Warned me ‘bout it.”

“And? You'd somehow find it in your heart to immediately forgive her and pick her up from the docks?” Riri pours the whiskey inside three glasses, handing it to each of the men. “You’re like a brother to me, Hobie. We came up in this fuckwad’s gang—” she points at Miguel who's caught in the middle. He just pinches the bridge of his nose. “—at the same time. Do you think I'd let you wallow and die alone in that dirt farm of yours?”

Hobie doesn't answer. He knows that the journey was needed. But if Riri actually warned him about it beforehand, would you be here right now? Or would you be dead somewhere along your journey to him because he couldn't find it in his heart to come to you?

“See? Not everything's my fault. Just a freak coincidence.” Miguel pipes up, now eating a slice of cake just as you have.

Riri ignores him. “I know you had a slight apprehension towards her because of what happened.”

“She could've died, Riri. When I found her, she was trying to steal food.”

Riri breathes shakily, eyes glossing over. “And I'm sorry for that, truly. I never thought that would happen, or that her people would put a bounty on her. I only knew her from you, Hobie. I'm sorry. And I'll apologize to her, I promise.”

“She's really good on that piano.” Miguel comments before returning to his cake. Hobie and Riri continue to ignore him.

Hobie sucks in his teeth. “‘Slight apprehension’ didn't cut it back then.” He whispers.

Riri looks at him with a frown, eyes downturned. She knows his story, and she knows his side of it. “You know when I was a kid I used to hate the edges on bread. I always asked my mom to cut it off for me which added more workload for her, but she still did it.” She smiles fondly. “And now as an adult I love the edges, it's the best part of the bread for me.”

“What are you sayin'?”

“I'm saying that people change. And I'm not just referring to her.” Hobie understands her double entendre.

Hobie scoffs, stealing a quick glance at you. “It's bread, Riri.”

“I can see that she may have thought you were a burden back then but I highly doubt she has the same thoughts now.” Riri takes a sip from her glass. “How would you even know that you were a burden to her when the exact words didn't come out of her own mouth?”

“She told me it wasn't her, I know that now. It was all Hicks, the same fucker that did this to me.” Miguel straightens in his seat, Riri flicks her eyes at his scar knowingly. “They're still lookin’ for her, I know it.”

“If they ever find you both, we have your back.” Riri clasps Hobie's shoulder. He holds her hand briefly before letting go with a thankful nod. “It's the least I can do.” Miguel agrees with a grunt and a pat on his gun.

“It's more than enough, Ri.”

You wave towards Hobie from the small stage, jumping down to walk past the crowd and to him. Hobie's heart feels a little bit lighter from the conversation, like a bullet taken out from his skin.

Miguel stands up, and then pats Hobie and Riri in the shoulder before putting his hat back on. His hazel eyes meet with yours for a second, you give him a polite smile as you navigate your way out of the jam-packed audience.

Miguel fixes his hat, eyes zeroing in on the ring around Hobie's finger. “Nice ring. You two tied the knot without inviting me and the rest of the gang?” You pause by the menu, acting like something caught your eye while you listen in. The saloon is noisy enough for his words to be muffled, but you understood it perfectly.

“Not really,” Hobie glances towards you for a second before flicking his eyes over at his ring that he keeps twisting and turning around his finger.

“Well you've got everything else covered. And I've seen the way you look at her. If that's not marriage, I don't know what is.” Miguel clasps Hobie's shoulder in a parting goodbye, his face is unreadable from where you are. Miguel leans in closer this time, hazel eyes staring into Hobie's soul. His expression turns serious, lips pursed into a thin line, whispering words that you couldn't hear from where you stood. “You gonna tell her all the things you've done to survive this place?”

Hobie stands up to greet you halfway. “Worse, she has seen it.” Miguel leaves, and Hobie holds your hand with a proud smile, but you can tell something happened while you were gone. He sees it, so he leads you back to the bar where Riri waits to tell you everything.

“Did he pay you back?”

“Nah, he didn't have the money on him.”

“What an asshole.” He laughs, not bothering to hide his affection for you in front of the whole saloon any longer.

—

You lean back, smiling at the lavender sunset before you. Hobie's hands are occupied with the reins, but he still finds the time to nuzzle his chin on your shoulder. A small act that has you grinning as you cup his cheek for a moment.

Riri's confession was a surprise to you, but after the shock ended, you couldn't help but let out a loud guffaw in the saloon. You stood out like a sore thumb whilst Hobie rubs your back from how much you were laughing. You even thanked Riri for what she did on Hobie's behalf, to which she sighed in relief from your reaction. If she didn't send that letter, you'd still be in that wretched place, you'd still be half dead, surviving but not living. The journey to Hobie was tough and marred with pain and bloodshed, and yet, you'd take that journey all over again if you knew that he'd be holding you like this once again; that he still loves you despite everything that has happened to him and to you. With a parting hug, and a promise that you'll visit again, you and Hobie set off back on the road towards home.

The route home is filled with an abundance of scenery. Fields of flowers and tall grass line the sides of the bumpy dirt road. Daisies, poppies and baby's breath are in full bloom, its colours bringing even more brightness to the land. Cows and horses graze all over, they look up at the sound of Bucky's hooves thudding against the soil.

Hobie gathers up the reins in one hand, arm holding on to your waist before bending down from his saddle. Buckeye still gallops away as you immediately try to get a hold of Hobie before he falls.

“What are you doing?!” You ask, voice shaky, eyes up front while he has his palm open, gathering flowers on the side of the road.

“Just hold onto me!” Numerous flowers gather in his hand, its petals are filled with dew, sweet smelling and colourful against his leather gloves. Some of the stems are broken from the motion of the galloping horse. But you don't mind as he sends you a wink while he's on the side like he's doing the most mundane thing.

Laughing, you help pull him up. He hands you the bundle of flowers from behind, lips brushing along the shell of your ear. “That'll be five bucks.”

You giggle, thumb brushing along one of its red petals. “That's expensive for a roadside bouquet.” Hiding your face behind the flowers, you take a whiff of the sweetness whilst you gaze behind you through your fluttering lashes. “I think you're swindeling me, cowboy.”

“Fine,” he dramatically sighs, earning a soft laugh from you. His viridescent eyes remind you of the clovers back home. “I'll give you a discount.”

“A kiss then?”

“I was goin' to say ‘three bucks’ but that works too.” His eyes are on the road, but he briefly gazes into yours with tenderness.

“I'll pay my dues then.” You crane your neck back as far as you can. With a hand running up behind his head, you push him gently to meet with your own for a quick peck. “There, all paid.”

Hobie grins, trying hard not to indulge more lest he crashes Bucky into a tree. “Nah, that was half.”

“Half?” You feign a scoff. “Fine, I'll give it to you in installments.” Your neck is starting to ache from the position, but you can't help but keep still when he even looks this good in this awkward angle.

Bucky slows down, you hear the rush of a body of water before you see it. Hobie clicks his tongue, Buck completely stops from the command. “I'll take it.”

“You're not gonna ask when I'll ‘pay’ you?”

Hobie places his hand around your throat, not clenching, nor digging in; no, he does it to gently straighten your neck to save you from a crick in your nape. You follow willingly, never have you felt this soft kind of grasp around your neck— it's been the opposite before this, before him.

The pads of Hobie's fingers rub along your nape, soothing the growing ache. “Surprise me.”

Your smile grows when you quickly look forward, you see a small dock in a shining lake that's surrounded by oak trees and cattails growing on the side. The water shimmers under the afterglow like diamonds laid upon silk.

Hobie raises his brows with a smile, you're sure he's patting himself on the back. He smoothly gets off his horse with a flourish. With his feet back on the ground, he holds your waist, waiting for you to push yourself off so he could help you down. As if you ever need it, but you sometimes like to be spoiled this way, especially if It's Hobie spoiling you with his affections.

You hold the bouquet against your chest while he looks up at you lovingly, not telling you to hurry up or attempt to yank you off. “They told me that you're so mashed. What does that even mean?”

“Who's they?”

“The band, they said and I quote, ‘that Hobie is properly mashed for you! We've never seen him look at someone like that unless—’” You pause, hands on his wrist, pushing yourself off as he guides you down on the ground carefully. You floated for a moment, you then tuck the flowers in Bucky's saddle bag for safe keeping.

“Unless what?”

You bite your lip to tamp down a laugh. “‘Unless you're one of Riri’s homemade chocolate cakes.’” Poking his chest, you playfully jab him while he has his hands up in mock surrender. “I knew you wanted that cake!”

“It was yours! And I've had it a thousand times before, love.” He grabs your wrists, stopping your poking to pull your hand over his neck so you'd hold him closer. Toe to toe, you close the gap even more by scooching closer.

You poke him with your chin on his clavicle. “And here I thought you were being nice.”

“I was,” Hobie utters against your lips, “don't worry, I ordered one for myself while you were playing on stage.”

You gasp in feigned offense. “You dare?!”

Nodding, Hobie pulls you closer by your wrist. “I dare.” He mocks teasingly.

“Guess I have to jump in the lake to let the waters wash away this betrayal.” Moving away, you walk backwards towards the dock while keeping an eye at him.

Hobie watches you go. The second he steps forward, you sprint away, giggling. Milkweeds and poppies brush along your legs as you run while stripping off your boots and jacket, you then throw it all behind you. The fabric hits Hobie's face, he hears a splash as he yanks it off, laughing with you. Stripping off his coat, belt and boots, he jumps in right after with a louder and bigger splash.

The water is colder than you expected when it hit your skin. But you suppose it's worth staying for a little while even if it means getting a cold. You wipe your face from the splash that hit you, shivering slightly and incredibly happy without a care for the rest of the world.

“Hobie?” You twist around, swimming in a circle to look for him.

Hobie doesn't resurface after his jump, your grin slowly turns into panic when you see bubbles rise up from where he jumped.

“Hobie!” You feel bile rise in your throat, panic and worry settling in your stomach. “Hob—!” You're suddenly lifted up, thighs perched on his shoulder with his head in between. “You ass—!” You see him give you a smirk before tossing you behind with a splash.

He once again lifts you up, by your waist this time. He's met with a glare from you, and he has the audacity to laugh at your face. You splash, wiggling and thrashing in his hold. “‘m sorry! I saw the opportunity!”

“Not funny! I thought you drowned!” Continuing to splash at his face, Hobie embraces you against his chest until you've tired yourself out. You manage to give him one last splash to his face before you gave up, and then you slouch against him.

“Good thing I taught you how to swim, huh?” He softly says, floating around the lake.

“Yeah,” you hide behind the crook of his neck, nose nudging his skin while you try to forget how your aunt reacted when you came home drenched and dripping on her carpets.

“You okay?” Hobie rubs in between your shoulders. “‘m sorry, I thought it was funny.”

You sniff from the cold, leaning away to meet with his eyes. “It was, just don't take too long to resurface.” Smiling, you wipe water droplets off his pierced eyebrow. “Remember the day you convinced me to let you teach me how to swim?”

“Yeah, I told you that you wouldn't be able to swim if the ship you're on capsizes.”

“It scared the shit out of me.”

“‘m sorry that scared you.”

“Stop apologizing,” you cup his jaw, feeling his stubble, “besides, we ended up here years later. It's a good ending.”

“Yeah, a good ending.” He fixes your blouse, laying the collar flat so the edge doesn't poke your eye out. Noticing your far off stare behind him, he imagines the worst. But when he turns, he sees a huge deer with large antlers drinking from the side of the lake. “Holy shit.” Hobie moves, but you stop him so he doesn't startle the deer.

It continues to drink calmly. A bush from the side shakes, Hobie almost went for his gun but he's proven wrong when a white tailed doe appears.

“She's gorgeous,” you whisper, hugging him from behind while you watch the doe drink next to the deer. “Do you think they know each other?”

“Maybe.” He doesn't believe his eyes, “maybe they're mates.”

You kiss his cold cheek. “You think so?”

With your hands intertwined with his own underwater, he pulls you closer until there's no space left in between. He once dreamed to be this close to you, now that he's skin to flesh with you, he will never let go. He'd rather be buried alive again rather than be apart with you.

The deer nudges the doe's head before they gallop away from the lake. Hobie sniffs, finger brushing along your ring. “Yeah, they are.”

—

The sun has fully set now, dark blue engulfing you with the night howling its cold breeze against your wet skin. The large oak tree behind you shields you from the harsh wind. It reminds you of the one back home where he carved both of your initials on the trunk. Hobie embraces you from behind, sharing his warmth while you two wait for the clothes on your back to dry before riding home. Bucky sleeps next to you, huffing in his sleep. The bonfire roars, warming you in its orange glow, flames dancing in your vision.

Hobie hasn't taken his fingers off your ring that he rolls around your finger since you sat down. His eyes stare at the fire, shoulders relaxed, yet his jaw is clenched. You think his body is acting on instinct, and is still getting used to the calm.

“You're quiet, I'm worried.” You say, head leaning on his chest, back slouched to look at him.

Hobie raises a brow, eyes glancing down at you before returning back to the fire. “‘m thinkin’.”

“That's a first,” you joke, squeezing his hand. He chuckles, pecking the top of your head once before sighing in your hair. “Okay, now I'm worried. What's wrong?”

“I was thinkin' that we're practically married.” Something flashes behind your eyes that he missed. “We've got the rings, the house, the love and everythin' else.” He can't let Miguel get to him, but he can't get his words out of his mind either. If that's not marriage, I don't know what is.

You give him a soft shaky smile, eyes glossy against the light of the bonfire. Cradling his face, he leans against your palm, placing a heavy kiss on your cool skin. A sob threatens to escape you, clawing at your chest to be let go. You don't let it.

“We kind of are, huh?” He asks, eyes closed while holding your hand against his lips.

“I–it's close.” You manage to choke out. “I suppose we are, Hobs.” Tears collect in your lashes, blurring him in your vision like water colours bleeding in together. “Are you afraid of it?” Of us? You fear waking up one day and finding his side of the bed empty except for a note addressed to you. It's irrational, you know it is.

“No,” he sniffs, “it's the opposite. My fear isn't anywhere near that.”

You blink to clear the tears, letting it fall without a sound. “What are you most afraid of, cowboy?”

Hobie opens his eyes and you're met with a sea of green, shining and glittering just like the lake near you. “You, you're what I'm most afraid of.” You turn to fully face him, body placed in between his legs that comfortably cage you in. You don't let him go even when he burrows his chin on the top of his chest. For a moment, he doesn't say a word, until he sniffs and returns to meet with your eyes. “Losin’ you, seein’ your blood stainin’ my hands.” He holds both of your hands in his own. “That's what I'm afraid of, not my own death, yours. Because I can't live another five years without you. Especially a life lived without you isn't a life well lived.”

You feel his love and all the ache he carried in those five years like never before. He doesn't want to lose the life he built with you here; he doesn't want to lose all the mornings with you, he doesn't want to sleep without you by his side. He doesn't want to lose you.

You never even thought for a moment that you deserve this kind of tenderness after all the hatred that was thrown at you like a hail of firestorm. And yet, here he is, he loves you, the kind of love that reverberates through your very bones and settles into your soul. You still don't think you deserve it, but who are you to deny such love, especially from him? You did not beg for this kind of love, nor prayed for it. It's not the kind of love that the fates or the universe have thrust upon you in a shower of meteors. It was gradual, it came in a trickle and then a wave. And when you two were finally on the same page— you love him with every single bone in your body— you love him intentionally and wholeheartedly.

Kneeling to level with him, hands holding his cheeks, you hope that your simple touch is enough to let him feel all the love and affection you have for the man before you.

With your forehead against his own, you softly utter the same three words you've been telling him every morning and and every night before bed. “I love you.” He nods, whispering the same words atop your lips like a mantra; a song that replays in his head over and over again. You kiss the corner of his lips before leaning away. “I–if that ever happens, I'll live for you. I'll bring back my blood inside me if I have to.” You wipe away his stray tear, “Just promise me you'll do the same.” You know that you won't be able to do anything if it does happen to you, nor he, if it happens to him. They're empty promises meant to fill the holes in your chests for comfort to hold onto— to help ease your minds throughout the night whilst he lays his head upon your chest at night.

The weight of the looming threat feels like a reality. As if someone laid a pillow to his sleeping face. Hobie takes you in his arms, embracing you; hand placed on the back of your head as if he's already trying to shield you from what he fears most.

The mere thought of you loving him so much that you'd defy death itself, and despite the blood underneath his nails has him tethering upon the precipice of paradise. Maybe that's all there is then, to be loved despite the blood staining his hands, and despite his gnashing teeth that could take your flesh if he so desires; that he'll never desire to do to you— It's enough for him to be with you, and for you to be with him until you're both old and frail, until you're both six feet under; behind the same house he made into a home for you.

He has everything to lose, and he'll raise hell itself if need be just to bring you back. *When they come for you, there won't be enough bullets in the world for him.

With determination in his eyes that fans the flames in his chest, he utters an impossible promise on your skin.

“I promise.”

You hug Hobie, hand splayed on his back while the other kneads at his nape. Opening your eyes, you see the same deer and doe on the other side of the lake, standing side by side peacefully with their reflections on the lake. The sounds of the night echo above the glimmering depths of the water. It all brings you hope despite the conversation, they won't find you, that's your hope. You get to stay here forever with him, that's your only wish in this world.

Amidst the swaying grass, and in his arms, you feel infinite. You finally feel like you exist with the gentle wind and the raging rivers. No more do you feel like you burn everyday, where there's ash in your mouth, embers hidden underneath your hands; living in a house built to be kindling in your all consuming flames of loneliness. Earthbound once more, alive again.

[ortegahaze]

bleeding heart

pairing: Wednesday Addams x gn!reader

synopsis: determined to impress your girlfriend, Wednesday Addams, on Halloween, you gift her a vial of your own blood. A fainting mishap turns the gesture chaotic, but Wednesday’s amused rescue reveals she might just share your dark affection.

warnings: mentions of blood and needle, fluff, humor.

a/n: happy halloween to those who celebrate! i wanted to share something themed, and what better choice than wednesday addams? i’m also close to finishing a requested katie torres story, as well as the second part of anyone but you.

word count: 1,6k

—

You’ve been dating Wednesday Addams for three intense, darkly enchanting months, and you’ve learned that choosing the right gift for her is no easy task. She finds most gifts either pointless or painfully sentimental. But it’s Halloween—the one night of the year when the world aligns with her tastes: mysterious, morbid, and a little dangerous. So, you decide it’s worth the risk.

After much thought—and far more of Enid’s “enthusiastic” help than you planned for—you settle on a gift you’re certain will impress Wednesday: a heart-shaped vial filled with a drop of your own blood. It’s unique, bold, and deeply personal. If there’s anything that might move her, it’s this.

Which is how you find yourself seated in Yoko’s dorm, nervously sweating on her sleek black couch as she holds up a butterfly needle and tourniquet. As a werewolf, you’re used to scrapes and bruises, but there’s something about needles that makes you feel faint. And with Enid’s wolfish grin and Yoko’s vampire fangs glinting in the dim light, you’re starting to question your “brilliant” idea.

“You know,” Yoko says, tightening the tourniquet around your arm with a wry smile, “most people would back out by now.”

“I’m not backing out,” you insist, though your voice wavers more than you’d like. You glance down at the tiny heart-shaped vial waiting beside you, its delicate glass ready to be filled and transformed into a pendant for Wednesday. If you can survive this needle-induced haze without fainting again, maybe Wednesday will recognize the depth of the gesture.

Enid pats your shoulder. “Think about how much Wednesday’s gonna love this! She won’t say it, but I bet she’ll be super impressed.”

“Oh, she’ll definitely be impressed,” Yoko grins. “You’re practically giving her your heart, you know?”

You laugh weakly, imagining Wednesday’s reaction, hoping she’ll see this gesture for what it is. That thought alone steadies you enough to hold out your arm. But as soon as the needle touches your skin and the blood begins to run through the tiny tube, the room starts to spin faster, and as Enid’s voice fades to a distant echo, your last thought is: Totally worth it if Wednesday approves.

When you come to, you’re lying back on Yoko’s couch with both her and Enid leaning over you, faces somewhere between amused and concerned.

“Alright,” The vampire says, holding up the half-filled vial with a smirk, “maybe you’re not exactly cut out for this.”

You groan, embarrassed. “I… I wanted it to be perfect.”

Enid pats your shoulder a little too enthusiastically. “It’s fine! We’ll just call Wednesday over. She’ll probably think it’s extra romantic that you fainted for her.”

“No way!” you protest, trying to sit up, but your head spins, and Enid gently pushes you back down.

Yoko is already tapping away on her phone. “Too late. She’s on her way to rescue her tragic, fainting puppy.”

Moments later, the door creaks open, and Wednesday steps inside, her gaze sweeping over the scene. She takes in your helpless sprawl on the couch, Yoko with the half-filled vial, and Enid’s barely-contained grin.

Her arms cross, and she raises a single eyebrow. “Would anyone care to explain?”

Yoko gestures toward you, barely hiding her amusement. “Your valiant partner here attempted the ultimate DIY tribute. We nearly lost them to their own romantic ambitions.”

Wednesday’s expression remains stoic, but there’s an unmistakable glint in her eye—a glint you can’t quite decipher, yet can’t resist either. “I see. And you thought it wise to assist them?”

Enid shrugs. “It was pretty romantic—until the fainting part.”

Ignoring Enid, Wednesday strides over and reaches down to help you up. “We’re going to your room,” she says firmly, grabbing the half-full vial and the equipment Yoko left behind.

You blush, both embarrassed and grateful. “I can walk, you know,” you mumble, though you sway a bit as you stand, and Wednesday’s hand stays firm on your arm.

Her lips quirk slightly. “Yes. You’ve demonstrated impressive physical prowess so far.”

You groan, leaning on her slightly as she leads you through the hallways, surrounded by the eerie glow of Halloween decorations. The school is draped in webs and flickering lights, shadows cast by paper bats hanging from the ceiling, and jack-o’-lanterns grinning from dark corners. Faint echoes of spooky music and the occasional laugh drift through the halls as students celebrate the holiday.

After a moment of silence, you clear your throat. “I know this was… a bit dramatic. I just thought it would be meaningful, you know? Like… giving you something uniquely personal.”

Wednesday glances up at you, her dark eyes slightly softer than usual. “There are any number of ways you could have shown that without requiring an emergency rescue.”

“I guess,” you admit, sheepish. “But it wouldn’t have been the same. You… make me want to do things that are a little foolish.”

A faint smile pulls at the corner of her mouth, though she doesn’t respond. She simply walks beside you until you reach your dorm. Once inside, she sits you down at your desk, still holding the vial and the needle. Setting the vial aside, she loops the tourniquet around your arm with practiced precision.

“If you’re still determined to finish this… gift,” she says, giving you a challenging look, “then I’ll do it myself. Unless, of course, you’d rather faint a second time.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes. “Yeah, like I’d ever pass out with you around.”

Wednesday raises an eyebrow. “Are you certain? The track record doesn’t favor you.”

You open your mouth to argue, but your breath catches as she lifts the butterfly needle, her gaze steady and calm. Without thinking, you reach for her free hand, gripping it tightly as she begins drawing the blood.

She glances down at your hand in hers, a slight flicker of surprise in her expression. “I suppose bravery is easier when you’re clinging to someone else.”

You smirk, tightening your grip just a little. “Bravery is in short supply around needles, okay? Consider yourself lucky I’m still conscious.”

A faint, amused breath escapes her, and she continues filling the vial, her voice low as she recounts her day’s events: her latest experiments, the endless irritations of her classmates, her determination to ignore them all. You find yourself relaxing as she talks in the calm, steady way she only does when it’s just the two of you. Before long, the vial is filled, and she carefully removes the needle and tourniquet. She disappears briefly to fetch a band-aid, returning to press it gently against the tiny wound.

When she holds up the completed vial, her eyes glint with something almost… reverent. Her fingers, cool to the touch, linger over the vial, and for just a moment, she holds it up to the moonlight as if it were a priceless relic. She’s silent, but the pendant’s soft glow says what she won’t.

“You’ve successfully turned me into my parents,” she murmurs, her voice a mix of irritation and faint amusement.

You can’t help a smirk. “Do you really hate it?”

She narrows her eyes, though there’s warmth in them. “Less than I expected.”

Taking a steadying breath, you reach for the pendant. “Let me put it on you?” The question comes out quieter than you’d planned, but Wednesday doesn’t pull back; she inclines her head slightly, turning so her braids falls to one side.

You fumble only slightly with the clasp before placing the chain gently around her neck, the tiny vial resting just above her collarbone. Your fingers brush her skin as you fasten the clasp, and you feel her shiver, though her expression remains impassive, save for the faintest glint in her eyes. She holds your gaze, her usual dark intensity softened ever so slightly.

Stepping back, you can’t help the small surge of pride at seeing her wear it. “Look at that—I survived. Guess I’m ready for something far more daring. Like… a tattoo.”

She arches an eyebrow, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at her lips. “Your confidence is admirable, if poorly placed.”

“Hey, with you there to hold my hand, I could handle anything,” you say, meeting her gaze.

Her eyes soften just slightly, and she doesn’t pull her hand away. Instead, she traces her fingers over the tiny heart-shaped vial, now sealed and resting against her skin. “Then I suppose I’ll consider it my duty.”

You grin, warmth blooming in your chest. “You’re really making it hard not to faint all over again, you know that?”

She rolls her eyes but doesn’t let go of your hand. “Let’s get something for you to eat,” she says, her voice quiet yet surprisingly tender.

Later that night, you and Wednesday are seated at the far end of the quad, away from the Halloween festivities echoing through the courtyard. She’s wearing the pendant, the blood-filled vial catching the moonlight as she glances over at you.

“By the way,” she says, her voice a soft murmur in the night, “if you ever think to attempt something like this again, do inform me beforehand.”

You chuckle, leaning back on the bench beside her. “Oh, you’re so eager to torture me, aren’t you?”

She meets your gaze, her lips twitching in a barely-there smile. “Precisely.”

As silence settles between you, her hand brushes against yours with quiet familiarity. Sitting together under the expansive night, fingers entwined, you realize that with Wednesday, every gesture is equal parts peril and promise—and that, you know, is exactly why it feels so right.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Foster II

Meadema x Teen!Reader

Summary: Your first visitation

Beth had never really thought about what your mother looks like.

She had never really considered it.

Like you, she supposed. Maybe an older version of your face. Maybe a few differences in your eyes or your cheekbones. Maybe your hair is a lighter shade. Maybe it's a few shades darker.

Either way, Beth had never really considered it but the woman that walked into the building wasn't what she expected.

Viv threads their fingers together, also put on edge by the jittery woman in front of them.

"Y/n," She says," Sweetheart. Come here."

She opens her arms for you but you don't go into them, shuffling your feet next to your social worker.

When Beth and Viv had told you that your Mum had gotten visitation, you hadn't seemed surprised. You hadn't seemed happy either.

You were just resigned.

You'd been through this before.

The only difference was this time your dad was in prison and a judge had terminated his rights to you.

"Why don't we head to the meeting room?" Your social worker asks," Get settled and you two can catch up?"

"Sounds good!"

You linger behind as your social worker leads the charge into one of the meeting rooms.

You catch Beth's sleeve, tugging lightly.

You're quiet most of the time. You linger around the house in silence if no one talks to you, needing to be reminded of simple things like being allowed to sit down and being allowed to get water without asking.

"Stay," You say, voice barely above a whisper," Stay, please."

It's meant to be an hour-long visitation, once a week. If your mother's rehab and parenting classes go well it gets upped to twice a week. An hour is a long time, enough time to go off and do some errands.

In fact your social worker had even recommended that.

But here you were, asking them to stay.

You don't make eye contact. You look uncomfortable even asking for it.

"We'll stay," Viv says," We're not going anywhere."

An hour never goes by so slowly.

It's strange, Beth thinks.

An hour in a game can pass in the blink of an eye but, here, with nothing but the ticking of the clock, it goes incredibly slow.

Viv is a steady presence though, holding Beth's hand in her own as they wait for you.

"We left Myle's stuff at training yesterday," She says," We'll have to swing by and grab it."

"We're nearby. We can grab them after y/n's done."

The ticking of the clock is the only thing that distracts Beth as she waits. She can't even bring herself to scroll mindlessly on her phone as she waits.

Her leg bounces as she waits and Viv tightens her grip until you're finally in front of them again.

Your face is blank. Your shoulders are slumped. You stare straight through them rather than at them.

Beth reaches for your hand, telegraphing every movement to give you a chance to pull away.

You don't.

You let her take your hand.

"Are you-?"

You don't even let her finish, something that's so uncharacteristic of you.

"Can we go home?"

Viv stands. "Soon," She promises," We're just going to swing past practice and grab Myle's stuff then we'll go straight home. We'll even get something at the drive through. How does a milkshake sound?"

You give her a weak smile, nothing more than a slight upturn of your lips.

"Sounds good."

You're silent in the car, head pressed against the window and eyes staring blankly out as the scenery whizzes past you.

"Are you okay with staying here?" Beth asks as you pull up," Or should one of us stay?"

"One of you stay."

She's heard you speak more today than she did last week but this is hardly the win it would be on any other day.

"I'll stay," Viv says from the driving seat," I'll stay with you."

You don't remember Beth getting out of the car. You don't remember Viv getting in the back with you. You don't remember when you started crying and when you curled against Viv's body.

There's a knock at the window and you jolt.

"Now's not a good time, Katie," Viv says, tucking your head into her neck," It's not a good time for any of you."

There's a crowd around the car, most of the team much too nosy for their own good and Viv just pulls you even closer.

Katie, who seems to have been nominated as spokesperson, has the decency to look a little ashamed. "Beth said the kid is feeling a little bit raw today. We got some of the cakes from the dining hall."

Kyra, uncharacteristically silent, holds out one of the muffins.

There's a huge chunk that's been taken out of it.

"Oh! That one's mine! Sorry!" She takes the other one out of her pocket.

Viv gently nudges you. "Would you like to take it? You don't have to if you don't want."

Your hand reaches out the open window carefully but the moment your hand is wrapped around the muffin, you snatch it back to your body.

"Thank you."

Your words are barely audible but it still garners some smiles from the team.

"Hey." You think it's Leah that's talking to you now. You don't really know the name of the team, still stuck on your discovery a few weeks ago that Beth and Viv were professional footballers. "Next time you're here, we'll you down to the dining hall ourselves, yeah? There's this pudding cup that's amazing."

You still don't make eye contact. "I'd like that."

Viv grins just as Beth comes back, lightly nudging you and you look at her.

"What do you want to order for dinner? Beth's paying."

[buzzinrusso]

7+2 - Leah Williamson

Genre :fluff

Prompt: seven times where you and Leah had to hide your relationship, and two times where you didn't care.

(Hiding it.)1.

You and Leah were having a very chill night at your house .

By chill you mean turning on a movie and then proceeding to ignore the said movie and make out with your girlfriend.

That's why you were startling her lap with your mouths connected perfectly in a very intimate kiss, her hand were slowly guiding your hips to grind against her own.

You groaned when the door bell rang, you hated having to be separated from your current position on top of your girlfriend.

"Ignore it, it'll go away. " you mumbled as Leah tangled her hand in your Mid-lengh, brunette hair.

You let out an annoyed sigh as rung the person rung the bell rapidly. "Go see who it is, maybe they'll leave earlier. "

You frustratingly got up from her lap, letting out an annoyed sigh as you made your way to the door to shoo away who you assumed was a person who had the wrong address.

Imagine the surprised look on your face when your opened the door with a huff, ready to tell someone off , only to find your arsenal teammates at the door.

Beth, Viv, Kim, Katie, manu, and Lina,your new teammate were all at the door.

"Oh! Hey guys! " you said extra loud so that Leah could hear you. "What are you doing here? "

"Team bonding. Did you not see the chat?"Beth said while pacing her way into your living room followed by the rest of the team.

"Hiya" Leah said as the team approached where she was sat. You let out a sigh of relief as you noticed that she had managed to remove all the romantic things that were set up, candles, flowers, etc..

"Leah? What are you doing g here? "

"Uh, I thought I'd come early to help her , you know? " Leah stammered on her words, eyes nervously shifting between you and the girls who all took seats.

"Yeah, she actually came in just a few minutes before you guys. "

2.

"So, Leah, " Amanda started with a grin "you seem really happy. "

"Uh yeah, of course I am. " Leah nodded "physio is going great and I'll be back on the pitch in no time. "

"Yeah, that great! But I meant to ask you if you were seeing someone. "

"Mum, I wasn't seeing someone last week, or the week before that, and I'm not seeing someone now. " Leah stated firmly. It was clearly a lie.

"Okay, I was just asking. " her mother shrugged with a knowing smile on her face. "But if you were seeing someone, you would tell me, right? "

"Of course I would mum. "

That was the end of their conversation about relationship, the rest of night was filled with talks of football, life, etc... With Leah, of course, sending you messages every now and then.

3.

You were out on a girls night with you university friends, you went to Cambridge University and there you had met one of your many friends, Eva.

It was about 11pm when you and Eva were left in the corner with your friends Amy and Charlie , conversations sparked up about Amy's latest hookup / situationship which caused everyone to start talking about their significant other.

Your lips turned slightly upwards as you thought about your girlfriend. You had come to the conclusion last night that you and Leah were meant to be. It was a late night , you and Leah were laying in bed , not doing anything and just talking. The moment you realized that you were meant to be was when Leah broke out into uncontrollable laughter at a story you told, and then proceeded to tell a story of her own while you just stared at her in admiration.

"What about you babes? You seem awfully happy, have you got a special someone these days? " Charlotte asked while wiggling her brows teasingly at you.

"No, not really. " you kept your reply short and simple , not giving anyone any room to suspect anything else.

Except for Eva.

She knew you inside out.

Your phone pinged.

𝑬𝒗𝒂

Lair. 😉😉

𝒀𝒐𝒖

I'll talk to you later, don't worry

4.

"Come on, let's go. " Leah grabbed your hand and pulled you out of the training grounds to the car.

The action made you both get looks from your teammates, who were still in the dark about your one year relationship.

"Why are you leaving together? By the way, this isn't the first time you both came in the same car, or left together. " Beth pointed out abruptly interrupting the loud chatter happening around you in the locker room.

You quickly said the first thing that came to you head.

"Of course we do Beth, her house is about two minutes away from mine, why waste my gas when I can waste hers? " Beth, viv , Jen , and lia erupted into quite laughter at your rusher out words as you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding, as did Leah.

5.

You were getting ready for an event that you and Leah were invited to by sponsors, you were putting on a black fitted long dress that compliments your body's curves perfectly and Leah just couldn't keep her hands off of you.

"Leah seriously, don't start anything you can't finish. " you mumbled as Leah wrapped her arms around your waist and started kissing down your neck and then her hands started to move up from your waist to the rest of your body.

"Who says I can't finish. " it was more of a statement than a question as she continued to kiss down from your neck to your shoulder blades.

"Leah, seriously. We can't be late. " you gently pushed Leah off making her let out a quite whine.

For privacy reasons (keeping your relationship a secret) you and Leah decided to leave in different cars, not In Leah's car as you usually would, meaning you had to leave now, meanwhile Leah had to leave in about 10 minutes so you would arrive at separate times to not raise suspicions.

So, as you tried to leave because your assignee driver was waiting g outside, Leah was still in the middle of applying her finishing touches.

"Ughhh, babyyy, please , one minute. "

"Leah Mr. Adams is honking and waiting for me, I can't be any later than I already am. " you hated to do this but it was all worth it when le walked into the room while you were sitting in the corner with Alex Scott.

The suit she was wearing looked spectacular on her, and it quite literally took your breath away.

Thought you and Leah couldn't physically interact that much during the night, the stolen looks and kisses in the bathroom certainly made up for it.

6.

The stadium erupted as the ball sailed into the back of the net. Your arsenal teammates ran to you to celebrate you game winning goal.

Leah was the first to get there and she immediately launched her entire body weight onto you as you happily let her arms and legs wrap around your body as she repeatedly kissed your forehead and as much as you wanted to kiss her, you knew you couldn't.

With your teammates watching and a very large fandom watching from both inside and outside of the stadium, you knew you certainly could not do what you 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 wanted to do.

You have now grew to hate the fact that you and Leah were forced to hide your relationship, but Leah, as always, promised that you both would go public soon, it wasn't really for the clout, as people would assume. You just really wanted to show her off and hold her hand in public and in front of your friends.

You really did not care what people think of you two to get her, as long as you guys were content and happy, you didn't mind any of the hate you would receive.

But, as you and Leah said, you would wait a couple of months until the right moment to tell everyone.

7.

Your teammates were starting to speculate.

Beth was 100% sure that she saw the both of you kissing, which was true but you were a good enough liar to convince her that she was imaging stuff from how Drunk She was.

Everyone ha their own theory and it was getting a bit annoying to keep hiding your relationship.

You and Leah have had fights about this, but in the end you both came to the same conclusion that you needed to reveal your relationship.

You didn't care how you would do it, you just had to do it.

But, you were doing it after the euros, so both you and Leah could focus on your respective national teams. You, with the Spanish team and Leah with the lionesses.

Leah, obviously, knew about the situation at the Spanish camp so she made sure to call you every night.

It was the little things she does that made you fall more and more in love with her, and her little messages every now and then were really reassuring to you.

At the end, you knew that life would always lead you back to Leah, one way or another.

1.(the times where you didn't care.)

You were a sobbing mess on the field after the whistle blew, officially knocking your team out of the euros.

Instead of celebrating, Leah immediately made her way to you ,kneeling down in front of you and holding your head in her hands as she wiped the tears off of your red face.

"It's fine my love, I'm so sorry. You'll be fine. " she whispered timidly into your ear as you were still crying.

"Can you do one this for me, por favor? " you asked in between breathes. Leah quickly nodded, ready to do anything to help you calm down. "Kiss me? "

Without hesitation, Leah leaned in and connected your lips into the most perfect, magical kiss.

Your lips moulded perfectly together, as you both blocked out the sounds around you, only focusing on each other for the moment as your lips moved in sync almost too well.

Her hands had subconsciously moved to hold your cheeks and pull you in closer, the heated moment then got interrupted by Beth yelling in both of your ears as she ran towards Leah just as she pulled away.

"WHAT THE FUCK?I KNEW IT! " She pulled you and Leah up and planted your feet onto the field as she pulled both of you into a big hug .

Just as she pulled away, you got pulled I to multiple other hugs by both of your international teammates, all of them wishing well for both you and Leah.

2.

"Mum, this is my girlfriend, y/n."each said nervously to her mother as this was her fist time introducing you to each other.

"Girlfriend? Well isn't this lovely! " instead of shaking your extended hand, she pulled you in for a bone crushing hug that you gladly accepted as you were used to this kind of welcome in your home county.

"Come in, come in! "

Later that night at dinner, the questions began rolling in.

"So y/n, how serious are you about my Leah?" Amanda asked tentatively.

"I am very serious about her, I love her more than anything in the world. "

"When did you and Leah get together? "

"We have been together for about a year and three months "

"That long?! And you didn't tell me? " the last question was directed at her daughter.

"We weren't ready yet. " Leah replied immediately. She was heavily nervous for this day since it was planned.

"Why didn't you tell anyone about his sooner? Are you ashamed of my daughter? "

"mum ! We both agreed on this, it want just her. We didn't want to be in the spotlight. " Leah quickly jumped in to defend you against her mother's accusations.

Amanda raised her hands up in mock surrender. "Okay, sorry, I was just making sure. " she gave you a pointed look, you k ew exactly what it meant

It was the typical "don't you dare hurt my daughter " look.

You gave her a firm nod and a tight lipped smile as a response.

It was safe to day that the rest of the night went perfectly well, with Leah's mum giving in slowly to your Spanish charm, and accepting that you were going to be a permanent factor in Leah's life.

[didsomeonesayventus]

on one hand I get no joy from KH fanfic anymore on the other oneshot of Sora finding out Young Xehanort made it to Squareville and pinning him for some questions on what the he*k is going on

[dcxdpdabbles]

Hey, if you’re doing requests, can you please do another part of Alfred’s boy? Maybe a rogue attack at the opera?

Wes warned Danny three times that the doors would not open from the outside as soon as the show started. This meant that if he got up to use the bathroom, he would not be allowed back in until intermission.

Danny nodded along each time with a little half-amused and half-tired smile. Jason watched them from the corner of his eyes, and then a quick glance at his other side showed his siblings, who were rapidly becoming angry that Danny wasn't even looking at them.

Tim, in particular, was fuming. He had apparently called off a grave undercover mission to go to the opera with them—why that meant he had to dress as a giant duck, Jason will never know.

Thankfully Jason and Dick were sitting between the two groups as a solid buffer- with Dick purposely being placed before Jason as a human shield- and he had made sure Danny winded up with a wall on one side so that the little urchins couldn't claim the other seat.

If that didn't make them burn, nothing else would.

He was having the time of his life. Jason should come home more often; this was like one of his favorite novels.

Suddenly, Danny stiffens, holding a hand over his mouth with a slight gasp. His face crumbles into a grimace, and he shifts his eyes around as if worried someone noticed. Jason thinks he has some mints he can offer the kid.

Bad breath on a date is honestly so embarrassing. Mentally, he cringes at the thought of Katy Moon. She never let him live it down- that was until he died a year later.

Jason watches as Wes immediately snaps to attention at Danny's action, glancing around the room with an intensity he had not previously seen on the teen. That was.....a very odd reaction.

Was it not a case of bad breath?

"Everything-"

"Bathroom. Excuse us, we have to hurry before the show starts." Wes tells him, grabbing Danny's hand and quickly descending the aisle. He sidesteps his siblings, who are all pressing their legs against their seats to make the path a little easier to pass through.

Jason is happy to notice that he is not the only one who senses the urgency in their movements. Cass, who had just been on her phone taking selfies, is now also searching for whatever danger the boys have noticed.

She makes a hand motion that tells the rest of the Bats the area is clear. Jason relaxes a smidge as he, too, has failed to find any danger.

"I'll accompany you," Damian announces, standing up from his chair. Danny gives Wes a wild, quick glance that has every bell ringing in Jason's head. It's not fear, exactly, more of a glance of someone who doesn't know how to politely decline an invitation.

Wes shakes his head with an easy smile that Damian does not like. "Sorry, but I want to spend some alone time with Danny. You understand."

Steph's hands curl into claws in her seat as she hisses, "Alone time?"

Cass pats her hand softly. "Alone time is very important. Have a good time Danny, Wes"

"Thank you for understanding, Miss Cass." Danny chirps as he hurries out. Through the door of the box seat, they can see that he glances around rapidly, but instead of heading toward the restrooms, Danny races in the opposite direction.

Wes for some reason, pulls out a lipstick stick from his pocket running after him. Why would he-Oh.

Oh. Danny, you sly dog. Jason shares a knowing look with Dick before they both have to stop the rest of the brats from going after the two teenage boys.

Not dating his ass.

They wait for about seventeen minutes, where Dick and Cass have to stop the rest of the brats from going to search for Danny. Jason also does the same, but his word isn't nearly as compelling as Dick's own or Cass's immovable blank stare down. The lights dim, and he just started to worry himself when Danny and Wes stumble back through, apologizing to the usher, who was in the motion of locking the door.

Danny's hair is in dismay, his clothes are rumbled, and he has a bright flush on his face. Wes is sweaty, has an equally red face, and has a swollen lower lip.It does not take a genius to guess what they were getting up to.

"We made it! I was so scared we would miss the curtain call and have to watch the show from the hallway's TVs." Wes cheers, hurrying to his chair. He seems blissfully unaware of the poison the younger Waynes are attempting to glare into him. Wes would go home in a casket if any of them had heat vision.

"I'm sorry, Wes," Danny whispered in a soft, small voice. Jason only heard him because he was right in front of him on Danny's way to his seat when he did. "I didn't want you to have to do deal with this when you were here."

"Are you kidding? I get to the full Phantom of the Opera experince," Wes laughs, nudging Danny. "Best seats in the house too."

Danny's face blooms into a bright smile, lacing their hands together as Wes settles for the show. He barely notices when Danny's head comes down to rest on his shoulder, allowing the other boy to press closer as the performers take their places and the live orchestra starts up the first few tunes of the music.

Jason stares at the pair for a moment, wondering what Wes was talking about. They're here to watch Orfeo ed Euridice.

[sweetbans29]

Marked - CC

Pairing: Caitlin Clark x Reader

Summary: Caitlin loves to mark you up (based on THIS request)

Warnings: possessiveish Caitlin?, suggestive

Word Count: 1.8k

Sweetbans Masterlist

AN: When I tell you she can't keep her hands to herself...

Caitlin has you pinned between her and your kitchen counter, one hand on your hip while the other is holding the right side of your neck. She has one of her legs wedged between your two and uses her body to make sure you have no where to go. Her lips attached to your neck, just the start of where she wants them to be.

You moan when she reaches the sweet spot that she knows oh so well as your hands slide under her shirt to rest on her stomach. Caitlin smiles into your skin knowing she has you exactly where she wants you.

"No marks," you say breathlessly. Your words hold empty threats that blow right by Cait's ears. She could care less about your lack of wanting mark because they are her favorite.

"Don't," she kisses your neck. "Tell," she bites. "Me," she uses her tongue to sooth the spot over. "What," she kisses down your shoulder. "To," she moves her leg to come flush with your center making your moan and buck your hips into her. "Do," she says holding you back in place.

You let out a whine as she continues to feast on your skin. You let her lips roam wherever they want until you hear your phone ring and you are brought back to reality. You remove your hands from your girlfriend and go to answer it.

"Hi Katie," you say into the phone. Caitlin comes and wraps her arms around you from behind, not happy that her time with you was cut short.

"Ahh! Good, I got you!" Katie says. "I have a huge favor to ask."

Caitlin's hands are on your stomach, fingers dipping under the waistband of your shorts as her lips do work on the back of shoulder. You bring your hands to meet hers, giving them a warning slap.

"What's up?" You ask.

"Would you be willing to watch Aliya for a few hours? I have some errands I need to run before practice," she says.

"Of course!" You say as you walk away from Caitlin. "I would love to watch her."

"You are the best," Katie says. "I can swing her by in the next hour if that is okay?"

"Sounds great," you say, "Auntie CC is also here so she will be more than entertained."

"Great, thanks again," Katie says before hanging up.

"Katie is dropping Aliya off before practice," you tell Cait.

"But what about our time?" Cait says with a little pout.

"It is still our time, it is just our time with Aliya," you say with a smile.

"But I won't be able to do everything I want to do with her here," Caitlin says wrapping her arms around you again. She buries her face in your neck placing a gentle kiss on one of marks she left on you before being interrupted.

"You have me all the time," you say with a little laugh. Your arms wrap around her shoulders.

"Want you more," she muffles into your neck. You get a glimpse of the two of you in your living room mirror and gasp.

"Caitlin Clark," you say swatting her shoulder. You move past her to look at the trail of marks she has left down your neck and on your shoulder. Your fingers brush up against them all and you whip your head around to see a confident smirk on her lips.

"I said no marks," you scold her. "Now I have to go cover them up."

Caitlin doesn't say anything, her smirk saying it all. You finish covering them up right as Katie rings the door. Cait is the first one to greet them.

"Look who it is!" Caitlin says with joy as she takes Aliya from Katie Lou.

"Thank you again for doing this, I won't have time after practice and Devin won't be back until tonight. I owe you one," Katie says. You look over to see Caitlin already playing with Aliya on the floor.

"It really is no problem," you say. "We will bring her to practice for you."

Once Katie Lou leaves you join Caitlin and Aliya on the floor. The three of you play for a little before getting a snack ready for Aliya.

"See, you love your time with Aliya," you say to Caitlin as you watch how much Aliya adores playing with Cait.

"I never said I didn't love my time with her," Caitlin says. "I love my time with little miss Aliya-bear, isn't that right?" Caitlin tickles Aliya's stomach which has the little girl giggling.

You bring Aliya her bottle and begin to feed her. Once she is finished, you burp her and begin to rock her. She goes down seamlessly for a nap and you being to prep for practice.

"Someday we will have a little one," Caitlin says with a smile on her face.

"You will have to learn how to share first," you say jokingly.

"What do you mean? I know how to share," Cait says defensively.

You give her a look. You both know she is not good at sharing, especially when it came to you.

"Sure you do babe," you say going to her and giving her a peck on the lips. You pull away and continue getting ready as Cait pouts.

"Just a peck?" She asks.

"Yes, just a peck. If i give you anything more, it would lead to something we shouldn’t do with a child in the home," you say.

"How do you think Aliya got here?" Caitlin says and you roll your eyes.

"No Caitlin," you say.

You find yourself pinned between Caitlin and your bed when you should be getting ready to head out for the game but once Caitlin starts she is a hard one to turn off.

Cait's lips are currently putting in work on your thighs. You had already managed three rounds and Caitlin wasn't finished. Your whole body was a canvas to her, she wanted to mark up every part. And she did, mark up every inch of skin she wanted to.

"Cait, no more," you whine not knowing how you are suppose to play a game after the last hour.

"Okay baby," Caitlin says sweetly as she begins to kiss up your body, leaving her last few marks. She stops right under your right breast, one of her favorite spots. You let out a soft moan.

"Just love hearing your make those sounds, just for me," she says placing gentle kisses on all the marks she so proudly left on you. She looks down and knows you will need to wear both leg sleeves and a long sleeve under your uniform for the game. She prefers that you don't, wanting the whole world to know that your hers but the two of you haven't announced your relationship yet.

"Wouldn't make them for anyone else," you sigh as her lips meet yours one last time. You look up at her and can't help but smile.

"You are beautiful," you say as your hands come to cup her face. A light blush creeps into her cheeks.

You look over to your bed side table and see that you need to be leaving in les than 20 minutes. You begin to panic as you don't want to be late and quickly get ready.

The two of you head out the door and head to Gainbridge. You had opted for a comfortable tunnel fit as it was a gloomy and cold evening. Once you got into the locker room and removed your hoodie and sweatpants did all hell break loose.

You felt someone grab your arm and spin your around.

"Oh. My. Are you okay?" Lexie asks looking over your body. You give her a questioning look.

"Looks like you got mauled by a bear or something," Nalyssa says. "Look at your thighs!"

Your once questioning face turns into a mortified one as you realized you had just showed your team the damage Caitlin had done prior to the game. You try to cover yourself up but now Erica is by you holding your other arm.

"Damn girl, you were someones snack," Erica says with a laugh as your face turns even more red than it already was.

"I didn't know you were dating someone!" Lexie yells, slightly offended that you hadn't told her sooner.

"We were trying to keep in under wraps," you say quietly.

"Ain't nothing under wraps here," Erica says laughing. "I should report this as abuse."

"I'm not being abused," you say immediately.

"So who is the one devouring you?" Nalyssa asks with a quirked eyebrow. You don't mean to but your eyes shift over to Caitlin who has a proud smirk on her face. Your eyes dart away from her almost immediately but not fast enough.

"CLARK???" Erica yells as she runs over and squeezes her shoulders, jumping up and down. "Caitlin is the freaky one!"

You sit in your chair, sinking as low as you can go before falling out of it.

"I will neither confirm or deny your allegations," Cait says with a giant smile on her face.

"Oh it is so Clark," Aliyah says with a smile. "Do you see how proud of those marks she is, girl is showing off."

You are relieved that the team knows about you and Caitlin but really wish it was done is a different way. You were never going to live this down.

"You are going to need these," Lexie says handing you a set of leg sleeves and a compression long sleeve.

"Thanks," you mumble and put them on.

Caitlin comes over and tries to wrap her arms around you but you push her away.

"Don't even think about it Clark," you say.

"Ooooo, Caitlin's in trouble," Nalyssa teases. The team laughs then goes about getting ready.

"I'm sorry baby," Caitlin whispers to you.

"You're not sorry," you mutter as you throw on your jersey.

"You're right, I'm not," she says with a smirk. "Gotta show them who you belong to, all mine."

"Ya well, you get none until every single one of these marks are gone," you say.

"That's not fair," she fights.

"I said no marks," you fight back.

"You know I can't help myself," she says. "Plus now everyone knows so it isn't a big deal."

You shake your head and begin to walk away from her to go warm up. She grabs your arm and pulls you back into her.

"It's not my fault you taste so sweet," she says kissing your neck.

"Caitlin Clark!" You yell and push her away. "We are now going to practice abstinence."

"Absolutely not," Caitlin says.

"Oh ya? Try me," you say, now the one wearing the smirk.

AN: Okay this was a little too fun to write. I hope you enjoy and make sure to let me know what you think! And as always, thank you for your love and support 🤍