#Nelly Knows Mysteries | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pandorasfavorite · 10 months ago

Text

Maneater

The men were entranced by you, though when they see something they can’t have, it’s a given they will go chasing after it. Though, commonly, men can’t handle your personality, you're independent, demanding, and affirmative. That’s why they call you the “Maneater”.

A maneater is a woman who isn’t afraid to take leadership in any relationship, things will go your way or you’re not interested, no man could ever talk down to someone like you. You walk around like you own the place, it feels like you already own it anyway. Someone considers you rude, a bitch, selfish, mysterious, but what everyone agrees on is that you are like a magnet. Constantly pull people in as they try to figure you out and how to avoid falling into your trap.

“You did well out there, for a girl”, another follower said his horrible opinion.

“Thanks! You did horrible out there, you pretentious prick”, you called out to him with a straight face, not bothering to give him any more reaction. You had walked away without a care in the world, after all these men had nothing on you.

Your confidence didn’t lie, Damian Priest definitely noticed. To get you into the Judgement Day he had to find a way to work around your personality. He needed someone who could annoy you enough or break down your walls little by little.

And that led Dominik, Finn, and Damian to make an appearance during your match on Monday night raw. They each had a hard demeanor and were walking too slow for your liking, after all, they did just interrupt your match. You narrow your eyes at them, scoffing at the show they felt the need to put on. You scoffed and ran back to Becky Lynch, throwing her onto the ring with ease, ignoring the trio was easy. They each stood at a side of the ring, watching and examining, waiting for attention. You continued to ignore them and then you pinned Becky, your arm was raised in the air and you pulled no faces. You were 100% straight-faced, you knew the outcome of that match before it started.

Your expression twists into one of dislike when all 3 boys slide into the ring, the microphone being pushed into Dominik’s hand. The crowd was booing before he even had the chance to speak, and quite frankly you were losing interest just standing there. You rolled your eyes and brought your own microphone to your mouth, “Are we done here?”.

“No!” All 3 of them holler.

You shrugged and cupped your ear, you mouthed the words “Sorry I can’t hear you”, as you slipped under the ropes and out of the arena. The boys were more embarrassed than discouraged. While the 3 boys were racking their minds for a way to get you to join the group, Rhea cut in with her own idea. “Do you guys know her at all? She’s not just gonna fall to her knees…someone has to work their way in”, Rhea said and Dominik smirked thinking of dirty things. Rhea glared at the boys as they each smiled at each other, “Dom will have to do it” and quickly his smile dropped.

“What no! She hates me!”

“She hates everyone, you’ll be fine”

———————————————

He puffs out his cheeks and exhales deeply, Dominik spares everyone a nervous glance before walking up to you. Finn and Damian are hiding behind the wall, barely peeking their heads out to see what happens. Again you roll your eyes at them, and you can clearly see them slapping each other and hushing one another while Dominik walks up. Dominik walks up to you all nervous, he wipes his hands on his pants and is continuously glancing back at his friends for support. You stare at him with expectation, and he stands there in silence staring at you (admiring you). "Can I help you?", you quirk your eyebrow at him and put a hand on your hip, clearly impatient. Dominik has yet to say anything but his eyes are speaking for him. You watch the way he is studying you, eyeing you up and desiring you. You can't help but think that's how it should be.

You huff at his silence, slowly getting tired of waiting for him to stop drooling, "I don't have all day". He rushes out his sentence in an instant, "We want you to join the Judgement Day... will you?".

"No", you turn on your heels and move to walk away. Dominik's shoulders drop and he turns to look at his friends, Damian ushers for Dominik to follow after you. And so he does. He practically slides in front of you, his hands out willing you to stop walking, "We need you", caught your attention. Being needed feels so good. You bite your lip, thinking and processing, "Who needs me?". Dominik stands up straighter, once again glancing at Damian and Finn, "The Judgement Day".

Yeah, whatever, the Judgment Day needs you, who cares. Everyone wants you in their faction, it would be a luxury to have the maneater in a group. Hence why your expression is one of disinterest, now Dominik is running out of ways to grab your attention. "I don't like groups", you say in that familiar bland voice. Dominik can feel the frustration bubble inside of him, what does he have to say to get you to join?!?! "I'm leaving-"

"I need you!"

Dominik rushed out, anxious to tell you, to convince you. He stood up straighter and made direct eye contact with you, trying to make himself seem better-looking or hotter. This was so noticeable to you though, in your eyes, Dominik was flexing his muscles and trying to impress you. You aren't easy to impress, but it was kinda cute how much he wanted this. Still, you had no definite answer, after all, you wanted him to chase after you for a while.

You put your hand on his tattooed arm squeezing it and giving him a flirtatious smile, "That's really cute". And with that you finally manage to slip away from Dominik, walking past his friends who are now pretending to be in deep conversation.

With that, Dominik came back over to Damian and Finn, his cheeks abnormally flushed. Damian raised an eyebrow and put a hand on his friend's shoulder for a moment, "What happened man?".

"She called me cute", his eyes were wide.

Finn cackles and Damian sighs, "No man did she say yes or no?". "Neither dude but she talked to me longer than 3 minutes, that's got to be a record", Dominik gushed. Damian couldn't help but smile at his friend's expense, he took Dominik by the shoulder with Finn on the other side of him, walking back to the rooms.

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

Dominik's POV

A day has passed and I can't get her out of my mind. I am no better than anyone else who has talked to her and then immediately had a stupid childish crush on her. If anything I should be the one that she gets with, that may have been the first time I've talked to her officially, but it wasn't the first time I noticed her. Her and that wild hair, crazy attitude, fiery personality. God the thought of her drives me fucking crazy.

Your Pov

Usually, I would forget situations such as the one with Dominik. But he was different somehow, maybe it was the way he "needed me". That was probably a lie for all I know, but God it felt nice hearing it come from his mouth. Dominik also had no problem chasing after me, asking me to rethink. But that was a short conversation, not something worth thinking about for hours on end.

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

Dominik is jumping up and down, shaking his hands trying to rid himself of his nerves before his match. With two minutes to go, he walked up, waiting for his music to blast. What he wasn't expecting was for you to be standing there 15 minutes before your match also waiting. You were in your complete gear and Dominik would be a idiot not to take in the sight. To him, he's admiring the most beautiful woman he's ever seen. To you... he's being a creep without knowing. But considering how sweet and hot Dominik was with his hair wet and wide admiring eyes, maybe you can let him off the hook. Just barely though..." Hey! My eyes are up here Mysterio", you break him out of the trance. Dominik was definitely in character, or maybe you calling him by his last name sparked a confident flame in him. "Yea those are next", his eyes flickered from your body to your eyes.

No man had the nerve to flirt with you of all people after you caught them getting an eye full. Continuously Dominik Mysterio proves to be different. But you can't let any man get the last word, especially not him. You walk up to him eyes full of intensity, you push Dominik back by the chest, his beautiful eyes staring down at you. Dominik is just barely taller than you, yet you could push him around and he wouldn't say a word in protest. His back hits the wall and he swears at impact, you speak without hesitation "Don't get confident". His eyes are misty, his chest large and he looks the fittest he ever has in his all-black gear, and then his tongue swipes across his bottom lip, "Or what?". Oh, that's how he wanted to play. You could play that game.

You slide your hands behind his neck, bringing your face inevitably closer to his, your lips could touch. But you wouldn't let them, you knew you wouldn't. Once again his cheeks have gone ablaze and he thinks he losing feeling in his legs- and then all of a sudden his music blasts through the arena. A chorus of boos follow but Dominik didn't seem to care, he was transfixed on your glossy lips. You whip around dramatically as you always do with a sway of your hips. Going back to your spot and pointing for Dominik to go out. He shakes his head, running his hands down his face, anything to conceal the look of desire he couldn't control.

Part Two

#dominik mysterio x reader #dominik my bbg #dominik mysterio fluff #dom dom #wwe #dominik mysterio x you #dominik mysterio #dominik mysterio fanfiction #dominik mysterio smut #dominik mysterio x reader smut #dominik mysterio x badass!reader #Mysterio #monday night raw #monday night mami #friday night smackdown

180 notes · View notes

offshore-brinicle · 1 year ago

Text

Little personal Limbus theory that I've been working on for some time is that the Limbus Sinners' inciting indicents that led them down the path of joining the company, being the moment when their wish was born, all happened at the same time 3 years before the current story.

Thanks to some old leaks where people managed to dig up three of the Sinners' unobstructed profiles, we know Yi Sang and Sinclair's official ages are 29 and 20 respectively. Remove 3 years from that:

Yi Sang would have been 26, which is the age the narrator of The Wings claims to be, after leaving his wife behind once and for all and pressumably commiting suicide by jumping off the rooftop of a department store. 26 is the real Yi Sang's age at the time of his death as well, after his tuberculosis worsened imprisioned by the Japanese forces, so this means most likely he's left N Corp behind 3 years prior, avoiding such a fate, be it either death by his own hands in despair or torment at the hands of Hermann since she seems to threaten him with torture.

Sinclair on the other hand would have been 17 which aligns with him still being in high school when the incident with Kromer happened and also mentions in his observation log for Kromer that she has grown slightly taller since the last time they met, however what was of him and how he had survived for so long taking in count he woke up in the Backstreets after his family's murder is still a mystery.

Now recently, not only the Pequod crew speculate that they have been trapped inside The Whale for 3 years, but we get direct confirmation that Limbus!Heathcliff is from the Wuthering Heights timeskip thanks to his Queequeg ID.

The first one is pretty self-explenatory, they say it themselves, though it's dubious how true this is since they have no way of tell the passage of time inside the whale and even the woman who says this sounds somewhat unsure, and Pip who was a young child in Ishmael's memory still looks the same when we see him again in the present and it's difficult to say if this is a side effect of the Pallidfication. (on the other hand I am impressed at the growth rate of Ishmael's hair for being only 3 years)

On the other hand, Heathcliff's Queequeg ID mentions the event that led him to run away from Wuthering Heights in the original novel; he overhears Catherine saying to Nelly that marrying him would be "a disgrace to her", so driven by his anger and heartbreak he ran away, making his own fortune elsewhere so that he would return to the state seeking vengeance and to become someone who Catherine would be willing to marry. This had been implied before through his general behavior and his mugshot showing him still shabby and bruised as well as his N Corp story, but this leaves no room for questioning.

All of this means that if we go by the book, at least 3 years have passed since he left Wuthering Heights and Canto VI which is next and dedicated to him would correspond with Heathcliff's return to Wuthering Heights both in Limbus' story and in the book, meaning Catherine is most likely still alive, yet Heathcliff as a Sinner in Limbus Company is a far cry from the newly powerful version of Heatchliff that returns to the state in the book, so it's likely things will play out not quite the same.

Faust's line in the Walpurgisnacht cutscene says that the standard extraction timeline range is limited to 3 years between the past and future.

In this cutscene she also says that the extractions are powered by possibility itself, and the IDs that become available are also influenced by the Sinners' experiences at the company and how they come to reconsider themselves and each other, that's how for example we get N Corp. Sinclair and Spicebush Yi Sang after being faced with Kromer digging at Sinclair and telling him about the world where they work together, and then Yi Sang being so strongly affected internally by Dongbaek's death and ultimate fate, which would be the most intense story-focused examples so far, and if we eventually get a Captain Ahab ID for Ishmael, they had already established she was down the path of becoming another Ahab, and she herself did not realize this until they met again.

If all of the Sinners' great choices that led them down the path they are currently all happened 3 years ago and the initial extraction range is 3 years, it would make sense, since these would be the moments that weight on their mind most strongly, though there's also the case of Outis who has been on her own journey for at least 10 years going by the original Odyssey and how long ago The Smoke War was, same case for Gregor who's specific motives for joining are still unknown.

#project moon #limbus company #limbus company speculation #lcb ishmael #lcb yi sang #lcb heathcliff #lcb sinclair #canto v spoilers

202 notes · View notes

mermaidsirennikita · 3 months ago

Note

I feel I should say I’m one of those people who read Wuthering Heights as a full-grown adult and was like, “How in the hell is this romantic? Cathy married someone else to get away from Heathcliff, and then her murderous ghost kills him for what he did to her children.”

To only focus on young Cathy and Heathcliff’s doomed romance is to seriously miss the point of the book.

I don't think the novel was ever intended to be romantic (... in a conventional sense), but it has a very compelling romantic relationship between two people that influenced later straightforward fictional love stories, which is why it is what it is today.

However, I will disagree on the take on Cathy's motives for marrying Linton. She doesn't marry Linton to escape Heathcliff; she marries Linton to go TO a level of status that she does not currently have. She does love Linton, in her way, and appreciates the gentleness and stability her offers.

However, Cathy does not present Heathcliff as someone she "will not" marry when explaining her mindset to Nelly. She presents him as someone she CANNOT marry because he's too "low" for her. At this point, he doesn't have the wealth he'll have when he comes back, and I would also say: Heathcliff is NOT the degree of fucked up that he is when he returns. He's super abused and angry... but he's a teenager. He doesn't have shit. He's not angry at Cathy the way he is when he returns, because though he knows she's heading towards something with Linton and is acting differently, she has not married Linton YET. He's possessive of her, but the relationship is not in the place that it is in when he returns from his mysterious absence.

If Heathcliff was not low, Cathy would quite possibly (probably?) marry him. Her big speech is telling Nelly that she loves both men, but her "pretty" love for Linton will fade. Her love for Heathcliff is an "ugly" love, but it is enduring and will always endure. Cathy doesn't see him as something to run from as a person; she sees him as an extension of herself. Catherine and Heathcliff, especially Catherine because she dies so young, lack separate identities. They are basically one person growing up—and in fact, at points Catherine is the worse one, as she takes part, as a child, in the abuse of Heathcliff before growing to love him. (I mean, she's a child motivated in part by jealousy... but still.) She's also manipulative , abusive to Nelly (the "help"), and basically puts on a good face to Edgar Linton that disguises how fucked up she actually is.

Catherine Earnshaw is essentially denying her actual self (not necessarily her best self, but who she is at her core) when she marries Linton. She is turning her back on whatever identity she has, however fractured and enmeshed with Heathcliff's it may be.

Catherine has become somewhat tamed when Heathcliff returns, and she's fully aware of how bad his behavior is (see: Isabella Linton). But that doesn't mean she doesn't want him around. She wants him and Linton to settle their conflict, she wants him to be "her" Heathcliff again (versus who he is when he returns successful and even more embittered) and it reads as very "have my cake and eat it too". Which is consistent with the selfishness that seems inherent to her even in childhood.

She wants her marriage to Linton. She also wants Heathcliff to settle down (emotionally speaking... not with another woman lol) so that she doesn't have to worry about their conflict anymore and clearly has much more passion for Heathcliff. Her death is linked in part to that passion; she's mentally ill, she's stressed about Linton barring her from Heathcliff, she's not eating and isolating herself, all while pregnant. She declares her love for him right before she dies and basically gives him shit for like... not at the same time... because she can't handle the idea of him being alive when she's not. She basically screams at him to stay with her when he's about to dip because Linton is returning from his errand (while Nelly sits there like OH FUCK OH FUCK OH FUCK as her super pregnant and super dying mistress like... basically makes out with Heathcliff.... and her husband is heading up the stairs about to burst into the room....).

And Heathcliff in turn wastes away (maybe self-starvation?) because he wants to be with Cathy's ghost. The description of his corpse indicates that he looks happy to die and be with Cathy. I don't think her ghost killed him by any means—but if she did, it was exactly what both of them wanted. Eternity together in death.

I mean, who knows what Catherine Earnshaw would've bene like as a mom to Cathy II. But I kind of highly doubt she would've been a good one. As soon as Heathcliff was back on the scene, she started denying her husband and obsessing over him, and if she'd made it past the birth, I don't think that would've changed at all. Catherine is, from jump, a shitty person, and I feel that her ability to be shitty and passionate and very much a partial architect of her own destruction (mutually with Heathcliff, and she in turn his a mutual architect of his downfall like, she and Heathcliff are essentially planning their long game suicide pact in their last scene together lol... and it's Heathcliff's bitterness and determination for vengeance that keeps him dying sooner, versus a lack of desire to be dead with Cathy) is what makes Catherine such a fabulous character.

Heathcliff is a horrible person, but Catherine isn't THAT much better, and she does not seem to truly WANT to be that much better when we take away what she thinks she should be.

#wuthering heights

49 notes · View notes

absolutely-normal-about-x · 2 months ago

Text

“Show me your resolve….”

WHOOOAAAAAAHHHH NELLY NOW THIS SOMETHING-

Ladies and Gents! I have been saving this character for quite sometime now!

Meet Ico! Specifically Reborn/Legends Ico! She’s a different person compared to her Xdive counterpart but they both share similar attributes!

In this world, she’s mysterious as they come distance and bluntness. None want to approach her due to her demeanor and fearsome abilities despite her age. No one knows where she comes from but it seems that she has a unique connection to the cyber elves, using their abilities far more effectively than anyone ever could and communicating with them clearly. As she travels with a one.

However if you’re able to look through her intimidating exterior you’ll noticed that she’s very shy and socially awkward. But while she fails in her words but her actions speak much louder. Once you gained her trust, she’s a fiercely loyal ally just get used to her..odd quirks.

She’s Volnutt’s rival at best, getting into scuffles and awkward situations when meeting. She keeps her distance away from him watching him. She has a feeling a deja vu around him almost like they known eachother from a previous lifetime. Despite it seems that Volnutt wanted to befriend her despite her distance.

She also seems to have a connection to a certain warrior donned in red that X swears, she reminds him of a dear friend that he has not seen in years…

What a strange girl indeed

Plus a small bonus bellow!

Also as a Bonus Her plucky best friend (sister) and travel buddy of Reborn!Rico! She’s a cyber elf critter!!

A plucky Cyber elf who’s always by Ico’s side! Rico is the opposite of Ico, she’s chatty, energetic and outgoing. She unfortunately gets into a lot of trouble causing Ico to get her out of there. Despite the differences her and Ico are extremely close!

She’s not only responsible of guiding Ico in ruins but also uses her powers to enhance Ico’s abilities and specifically her signature spear! That strangely shares the same properties of the Z-Saber. Rico has most of the typical cyber elf abilities of Hacking, messing with technology and temporarily enhancing abilities!

Thankfully the Cyber elves of Terra has since evolved/adapted into using their abilities more frequently in none cyberspace areas in exchange of their stamina. Since they feed off from refractors crystals to quickly replenish their energy.

That’s all folks :)

#megaman x #legends reborn #megaman legends #au #megaman xdive #Ico #x dive #she’s very babey despite her she acts-#look at my stupid daughter #and her fuck ass Fly #don’t worry Avis’s comming next!#Rockman Dash #Rico

20 notes · View notes

nightmaree-eyess · 1 year ago

Text

One night stand

Abby tlou fic

Summary: you meet abby at the bar and have a one night stand

Smut Mdni 18+, masc abby,first person pov, female reader, public sex, strapping, fingering, nipple play, teasing, stone top abby

Word count: 8436

Scroll down for smut starts at —--

“We gotta get you laid tonight” Dina said

“Yeah, when was the last time you even interacted with a woman that wasn’t platonic?”

Ellie and Dina love giving me shit about my love life. Just because they're in love doesnt mean I have to be! It was Ellie's idea to go to the bar tonight for operation “get me laid” (her words not mine). I'm totally fine with the life I live right now. I'm focused on college and don't have time for messy relationships. But they've been worried about me since my last relationship. It didn't end the best and I haven't been in the dating scene since. I didnt even entertain the idea of a hoe phase.

We walked up to the entrance of the club and the sound of muffled house music echoed through the streets. I stare at the door and take a deep breath preparing myself to enter.

“Are you ok? I'm not gonna force you to do something you don't want to.” Ellie said concerningly

Dina nods in agreeance

“Yeah im fine just hyping myself up”

“You'll be fine and whenever you wanna leave just tell us and we’ll go” Dina said

We enter the club and they're playing early 2000’s music. Maybe tonight won't be so bad after all. Even if I don't get laid, I'm still hanging out with my best friends and having drinks.

“We're gonna go find a table! Will you get our drinks please?” Ellie yells over the music

I walk over to the bar and from the corner of my eye I see a girl, her dirty blonde hair in a french braid, carabiner on her jeans, emitting the most confident, sexy aura that I can feel standing 10 ft away. I lock eyes for a second and she gives me a wink and then she walks away.

“M’ame your drinks”

“Oh shit sorry”

I didn't even realise I was staring. Even though I was staring I didn't even get a good look because she was gone as fast as I noticed her.

I grabbed our drinks and Dina texted me what table they're at. I make my way over and I scan the crowd for the mystery girl. I think I lost her and that wink was the only action I was getting tonight. Pathetic.

“Ah man wtf”

Fuck…

“Shit im so so sorry i wasn't paying attention to where i was going this is all my fault im so sorry let me venmo you for the shirt im-”

They turn around and I realise I just bumped into the girl that winked at me. I stand there dumbfounded and flustered.

“It's ok, honestly. It was getting kinda hot in here anyways so thanks for the refreshment.”

She takes off her button up to expose her sculpted muscles and her patchwork tats. Holy fuck this woman is my dream woman. Now all she's wearing is her wife pleaser and she wasn't wearing a bra because I noticed her nipples hardened.

“Please at least let me pay you back for the shirt i feel awful”

“I know another way you can pay me back,”

I give her a questioning look

“Dance with me.”

I was not expecting that response. But i accepted cause i would be lying if i said i wasn't looking forward to hanging out with this beautiful woman.

“ i don't even know your name”

“Its abby”

She reaches out her hand and I place my hand in hers. They’re calloused and I wonder what she does for work, what her hobbies are, but it's hard to get to know someone when the music will definitely give you hearing damage.

She's pulling me to the dance floor and “Hot in Herre by Nelly” was blasting over the speakers. The music fills me with nostalgia. I'm taking in this woman dancing in front of me. The colorful lights make her look ethereal and so gorgeous. It feels like it's just me and her on the dance floor and no one else is in the room.

She grabs my waist as the song “Crazy in love by beyonce” booms across the club. We barely talk because there's no point if we can barely hear eachother even when we're touching. She stops for a moment with her arm still around my wait. I give her a concerned look at first that melts into admiration. I cant believe out of everyone in the club she chose me. She could've been mad about the drink and stormed off but she didn't. She was kind about it.

We lock eyes. And before I know it she's pulling me in for a kiss. The sounds around me are muffled. I almost dropped my drink to give into pure submission. She holds my face and moves her thumb in circles on my jaw. She smells of pine and citrus and it's dizzying. Her lips are as soft as clouds and I'm already hypnotised.

—----------------------------------------

Our kisses get more frantic, sloppier. Kisses that will leave our lips bruised and swollen. She grabs my ass and I hitch my breath. I grab the back of her neck so my kisses land more deeply. I'm already getting wet and we were just kissing. Wow, maybe I do need to get laid. I break the kiss and a trail of spit keeps us connected.

“Meet me in the bathroom, big stall”

I walk off and make sure no one else follows me into the bathroom. After a minute i hear a knock on the stall

“Its me abby”

Her voice is raspy from yelling and it's so sexy.

I pull her into the stall and start unbuttoning her pants as we kiss when she stops my hand

“Are you ok? We can stop”

“Yeah it's just that…i'm a stone top. I prefer to give than receive.”

I let her take the wheel and we started kissing again. She pulls my hair enough to expose my neck and she plants kisses sloppily. She's definitely going to leave hickeys but I don't care.

She's hiking up my dress frantically. God, I'm already so wet. She cups her hand around my cunt.

“Going commando eh? Less work for me”

Im moaning into her neck while she palms my clit. My legs want to give out already but Abbys is holding me up with her muscular tatted arms.

“Oh fuck abby” i moan in her ear

That must've drove her crazy cause she takes 2 girthy fingers and teases my entrance. Then slowly she slips them in and I enter another dimension

“Oh my god you feel so good”

I grind my hips to match the movement of her fingers. My wetness dripped down her hand. Abby's grunting in my ear and it makes me feral.

“F-faster abby”

I could barely get the words out

“I want you to come on the count of 5. No sooner. No later. Can you do that for me princess?”

I almost came right then and there

“Mmhmm” is all i could get out

She starts counting

‘’1…” she whispers in my ear

“2…” i could cum right now

“3…” she's going faster and she added her thumb circling my clit. I almost lost it.

“4… you're doing great you're almost there”

I'm being loud at this point but I don't really care. This feels so fucking good.

“5.”

I grab a fist full of her hair and mess up her braid. I cum all over her hand and scream in ecstasy. I almost fall over but Abby catches me.

We kissed for a bit and I realised I don't want this to end.

“Wanna come over to my place? I live right down the block?” I whisper

“I would love to” she kisses me

I take her by the hand and let Dina and Ellie know I'm leaving. They give each other a confused look and then put the pieces together. They were probably wondering where I was all night. I'll have to apologise later for ditching them but they'll understand.

I walk up to my apartment door and Abby hugs me from the back taking in my scent, leaving more hickeys, which makes me drop my keys, flustered. I bend down exposing between my legs and Abby cups my ass in her hands.

“Damn cant even wait to get through the door” I say teasingly

I open the door and she spins me around and leads me into my own apartment by my waist. She closes the door and we kiss each other like the world is ending. She leads me into the kitchen on the left and lifts me up on the counter effortlessly.

“You smell so divine, I can smell you from up here” Abby said raspy and deep

That makes me horny all over again

She spread my legs with her hips, planting kisses down my body. She takes my dress off and throws it on the floor. I'm vulnerable and naked now. She presses kisses on the tops of my breasts, leading down to my nipples. She takes my right nipple and starts sucking on it. I tilt my head back in pure bliss and let out a little moan. She works her tongue around my nipple while sucking, giving little flicks with her tongue. It's driving me wild. You need her inside you. But in a different way. You stop her for a second.

“Are you ok?” she asks worryingly

“Yeah of course I just wanna ask you something.”

She looks at you with a blank look

“I-I have a strap that I want you to use on me, if that's ok with you. I bought it because i thought id get more action but-”

She quiets you with a kiss

“I'd love to angel”

Abby smacks my ass as I run into my bedroom to get the strap and dildo. When I return she's sitting in the living room on the couch across from the kitchen.

When she sees the strap her eyes go wide with eagerness. I hand over the strap and she unbuttons her straight legged levi’s and her carabiner thuds to the ground with the jeans. She's wearing grey boxers and god i wish i could kiss her happy trail down to her pussy and eat her out. She puts on the strap and sits on the couch. And pats her lap. I walk over and straddle her. She grabs my hips to ease me on and the dildo slips in. I didn't even need lube since I'm so wet. I slowly bounce up and down, grinding my hips to hit the spot.

Abby grabs your tits and circles my nipples with her thumbs.

“You're so sensitive”

I picked up the pace and grabbed Abby's shoulders for stability. She notices and moves one hand down my body and slowly inches her way over to my cunt.

“Youre so fucking wet for me baby” she says like butter

Abby takes two fingers and circles your clit as you move up and down.

“Oh fuck abby right there. Im gonna cum, im gonna cum. Im gonna-” you scream in bliss as you lower your head in the crook of Abby's neck for stability and she kisses and bites your ear which brings on a second wave. Abby takes her hand and licks it.

“You taste so fucking good baby.”

She kisses me to prove to me that I do.

We ended up cuddling on the couch and I don't know when but I slipped away in blissful sleep surrounded by abbys huge, inked arms.

—----------------------------------------

In the morning I woke up to the space next to me empty. The apartment is quiet and I wonder where everyone is. All that was left of Abby was her scent in the cushions and the memories plastered in the walls. She didn't even leave a note and I never got her number. I guess she’ll just be a memory now.

#abby x you #abby x reader #abby smut #abby anderson smut #abby anderson #abby tlou #Abby fanfic #tlou #smut #abby anderson fanfic #tlou fanfiction #fanfiction #masc Abby #stone top

212 notes · View notes

watchinghallmark · 4 months ago

Text

#nelly knows mysteries #pascale hutton #kavan smith #hallmarkedit

29 notes · View notes

hallmark-movie-fanatics · 4 months ago

Text

Nelly Knows Mysteries: A Fatal Engagement - photo preview

(photos 6 and 8-10 are from parade.com)

#nelly knows mysteries: a fatal engagement #hallmark mystery #photo preview #pascale hutton #kavan smith #hallmark movies #nelly knows mysteries

2 notes · View notes

whencallstheheart · 6 months ago

Text

New Pascale & Kavan Mystery Movie!

NELLY KNOWS MYSTERIES (wt)

Friday, August 23 (9 p.m. ET/PT)

Starring: Pascale Hutton (When Calls the Heart), Kavan Smith (When Calls the Heart)

When an unusual handwritten letter arrives at Nelly’s (Hutton) office, she identifies the handwriting as belonging to her childhood friend Dahlia (Sarah Grey, The Secret Lives of College Freshman), claiming her boyfriend Blake (Julian Haig, Dial S for Santa) is being unfaithful. Determined to help, Nelly wants some answers and rushes to Blake’s home only to find his dead body. When Dahlia becomes the prime suspect, the new, handsome Detective in town, Michael Hogan (Smith) must work with Nelly to prove that her childhood friend is not the killer everyone believes her to be.

24 notes · View notes

moeitsu · 9 months ago

Text

The Tie Which Linked My Soul To Thee

Summary: Welcome to Horseshoe Overlook

Ao3 Wattpad Masterlist - All Chapters Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.4 Ch.5 Ch.6 Ch.7 Ch.8 Ch.9 Ch.10

Tags: Arthur Morgan/Original Female Character, Widowed, Original Character, Mutual Pining, Slow Build, Eventual Smut, Eventual Romance, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, High Honor Arthur Morgan, Friends to Lovers, Child Loss, Trauma, Canon-Typical Violence, Arthur Morgan Does Not Have Tuberculosis, Arthur Morgan Deserves Happiness, Chubby Arthur Morgan, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence

Ch 3 - The Suns Low Down The Sky

Arthur escorted Kate to Dutch’s tent first, where the other gang members looked on curiously. Jack leapt into his mother's arms, as she eyed the mystery woman who rode in with her son. Arthur explained the situation to Dutch, introducing Kate as a traveler heading west, planning to stay for only a few days.

“Nonsense!” Dutch laughed heartily. “Drifter, outcast, or outlaw, whatever you may be, Miss McCanon, you’re welcome to stay as long as you’d like. We only ask that you pitch in with meals and chores.” He smiled, taking a puff from his cigar.

Kate nodded gratefully. “That's very kind of you, Mr. Van der Linde,” she replied.

“Please, call me Dutch,” he insisted. Kate reciprocated the informalities.

Dutch continued, “Arthur, show our new friend here where she can settle her things. Then come find me afterward; I’d like to discuss these Pinkertons you’re so worked up about.” He spoke casually, as if discussing the weather.

Arthur led Kate to a small clearing next to the ladies' tents, where they whispered among themselves. Though Kate felt like an outcast among the group, she hoped to get to know them better, especially the other women. It had been a long time since she’s had the company of fellow girls. Even though she was still unsure about just how long she would remain here.

“You get yourself settled,” Arthur said warmly, “I’m gonna go speak with Dutch. I’ll come find you for dinner.” He bid her farewell, Kate nodded and set to work unpacking her few belongings—a tent cloth, bedroll, and a small bag of clothes. She chose to travel light, since she had no wagon to pull.

From the adjacent tent, two heads peeked out with nervous giggles. One woman had a head full of curls and a face full of freckles, while the other was dark-skinned and wore a vibrant yellow dress. They whispered amongst each other before addressing Kate.

“Hello,” Kate said, feeling a hint of sudden nervousness, it really had been awhile since she was around so much company.

“Hi Miss,” said the curly-haired girl, “are you Arthur’s new mistress?” She asked with a giggle.

Kate’s eyes widened in surprise and her cheeks tinted red, she hadn't thought about what the situation looked like to the other members. A strange woman riding in with one of the men, of course they would think she was a prostitute. Yet she was a little flattered, she did not feel nearly as pretty enough to be considered as such.

Kate used to be all “ladylike” back in the days when she was tending to her husband and daughter. But she's always been more on the rugged side, she stood about 5 foot 10 inches, and had wide shoulders and thick thighs like sturdy tree trunks. All the years on the open plains she's gained muscle in places she didn't even know she had. But the beginning of her journey west is what really hardened her, she shuddered at the memory.

“No, no, I assure you it’s nothing like that,” she clarified. .

“Oh, quit it, Mary-Beth,” the girl in yellow scolded, stepping out from the tent. “My name's Tilly. Nosey Nelly over here is Mary-Beth.”

Kate chuckled softly, relieved by Tilly's playful interruption. "Nice to meet you both," she said, offering a warm smile. "I'm Kate. And no, I'm not Arthur's mistress. Just passing through, like he said.” She restated, taking a good look at the two girls, she noticed they were incredibly young. Tilly couldn't be much older than 18, and Mary-Beth only looked a handful of years older. The faces were full of youth, and eyes still bright with hopes and dreams. She wondered how two beautiful young women ended up with a gang of outlaws. She prayed it was nothing nefarious.

Mary-Beth blushed, realizing her bluntness. "Sorry about that," she mumbled sheepishly.

Tilly waved off the apology with a grin. "Don't mind her. She's a hopeless romantic always jumping to conclusions," she explained, shooting a teasing glance at her friend.

"It's alright," Kate assured them, continuing to unpack her belongings. "I'm just grateful for a place to rest for a few days."

"Well, you're welcome here," Tilly said warmly. "We might be a ragtag bunch, but we look out for each other." The girls smiled in unison. It was clear they were eager to make a new friend.

Kate nodded, feeling a sense of security and camaraderie with the girls already. "Thank you Tilly. I really appreciate it."

“Can we introduce you to the others?” Mary-Beth inquired. Kate put down the bed roll she was spreading out and wiped her hands. She took a look around the camp and saw people milling about doing all sorts of activities. Some were cooking, some cleaning, others sat by a fire while two played dominos at a nearby table. She couldn't see him, but she knew Arthur would be inside the large canvas tent with Dutch and Hosea discussing the encounter by the river.

“That would be nice,” she answered with a nod. Mary-Beth lept at the opportunity and linked her arm with Kates, the gesture took her by surprise.

“Oh, it's so nice to have another woman around here. C’mon, I’ll introduce you to the girls first,” Mary-Beth exclaimed, her excitement infectious.

Kate couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm; this was slowly becoming exciting for her too. Together, the three of them strolled a short distance to a larger tent near a crackling fire. Jack sat on the ground, drawing shapes in the dirt with a stick, his eyes lighting up when they approached. Kate recognized the woman beside him as his mother from their earlier encounter. She wore a worn blue dress covered by a long plaid-brown trench coat, busy sewing Jack's sleepwear.

“Hello, Miss,” Kate greeted politely, acknowledging Abigail's tired smile. “I’ve had the pleasure of meeting your boy already. He's a wonderful kid.”

Abigail nodded gratefully, the weariness evident in her eyes. “Jack told me all about his adventures,” she paused her sewing to shake Kate's hand. “I’m Abigail.”

Kate returned the handshake warmly. “It's a pleasure, Abigail.”

As they moved on, Mary-Beth leaned close to Kate's ear, her voice hushed. “Abigail’s been under a lot of pressure lately,” she confided. “Her husband, well, I guess they're not technically married. Anyways, John hasn’t been the best father to Jack. She worries about her boy a lot.”

Kate's sympathy for Abigail deepened. Motherhood was challenging, even under the best circumstances, and she couldn't imagine the strain of raising a child in their risky situation. She wondered if this had anything to do with why Arthur took Jack fishing. Maybe he was trying to give his mother a break. She hoped to offer her support to Abigail when the opportunity arose.

Approaching the tree line, they encountered a blonde woman holding a rifle, evidently on guard duty. Kate noted the caution in her stance, understanding their wariness toward strangers.

“Well, who do we have here?” the woman greeted, her tone wary.

Mary-Beth took the lead in introducing Kate. “This is Kate, she’s our newest member!” she announced.

Karen eyed Kate suspiciously, her grip on the rifle tightening slightly. “Newest member, huh?” she said bluntly.

Kate raised her hands in a friendly gesture. “I’m just passin’ through, only staying for a night or two,” she explained. “I’m uh - a friend of Arthur’s.” She wasn't sure why the words came out so strange.

“I’m Karen,” she replied tersely. “Sorry if we don't take kindly to strangers. It's been real hard these past couple weeks.” Mary-Beth nodded in agreement. “I best get back to my lookout, holler when dinners ready.” She added, turning around and heading back into the thicket of trees.

As they returned to camp, the aroma of meat stew filled the air, and the fire crackled brighter with the encroaching darkness. People began claiming their seats by the fire's warm glow. Kate scanned the camp but saw no sign of Arthur, she figured he must still be with Dutch. She hoped he was alright after his encounter with the Agents, though she understood his agitation. If he truly was an outlaw, then any government official would probably trigger his flight or fight. She wanted to ask him about it, and ask him what happened.

She longed to hear his side of the story, but she knew it wasn't her place to pry. If he chose to confide in her, she would listen eagerly. After all, sharing stories was what kept her journey alive, each encounter offering a new perspective and enriching her travels. In return, she kept their memory alive, as they lived on through her.

As Mary-Beth led her to a spot by the fire, a formidable older woman with a head full of gray hair strode over, her voice carrying the weight of authority.

“Mary-Beth, I swear to the Lord above if those clothes aren’t washed by tomorrow morning I will—” she halted mid-sentence, her gaze landing on Kate. “Oh, hello dear. Who might you be?” Straightening her dress and tucking a stray hair behind her ear, she composed herself before the stranger.

“Miss Grimshaw, this is Kate McCanon. She’s going to be staying for a few days,” Mary-Beth introduced, a hint of hesitation in her voice.

Kate realized that Miss Grimshaw must be the matriarch of the camp, responsible for keeping things in order. She offered a warm smile. “It's a pleasure, Miss Grimshaw,” she said, extending her hand for a shake. “I’m very grateful to be welcomed here. Whatever you need me to do will be done, be it cleaning, cooking, hunting—you name it. Anything I can do to repay the kindness.”

Miss Grimshaw seemed pleased by Kate’s graciousness. “Well, my oh my, if only the other girls had as much responsibility as you, young lady, then maybe we wouldn’t be living in this dump,” she chuckled. “Well, enjoy your evening, dear. The work can wait until tomorrow.”

Kate nodded her thanks, noting Mary-Beth's subtle eye-roll as Miss Grimshaw walked away. As the dinner bell rang, a heavyset man by the chuck wagon announced that dinner was ready. Mary-Beth informed Kate that he was Mr. Pearson, the camp cook.

The two of them lined up and filled their bowls, then settled by the fire. Kate found herself between Mary-Beth and Tilly, enjoying the warmth and the chatter of the camp. As the commotion continued, she spotted three men emerging from Dutch’s large tent. Among them was Arthur, making his way over to join them at the fire.

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

Arthur left Dutch’s tent feeling irritated. He laid out the entire situation to him and Hosea—the Pinkertons, Milton’s offer, everything. He stressed that they were being watched, that danger lurked closer than they might realize.

Dutch had questioned his decision to refuse the offer, which Arthur found absurd. Why would he betray his own for a deal with the devil? He was raised not to trust the government and this camp was the closest thing he had to a family, and he’d sooner face down the law than betray them.

The conversation echoed in his mind, “ What's our move, Dutch? ” Arthur had asked, desperation creeping into his voice. Dutch's response was predictably vague, “ We do nothing, son, ” he asserted, “ They want us scrambling, like headless chickens, but we will stand our ground. We just need a bit more cash, then we’ll set sail east. ” Hosea sighed in resignation—“ Have faith ,” Dutch added, as if it were a magic word.

Arthur had never once doubted Dutch or Hosea, they were the people who clothed him, fed him, and protected him from a very young age, but he was beginning to wonder when the robbing and running would end. They had already lost Mac, Davey, and young Jenny. This life was not a safe one, and everyday he wonders if it will be his last.

He bid them farewell and exited the tent, he made his way towards the fire and spotted Kate eating dinner and integrating herself with the gang. He noticed her smile as he tipped his hat in greeting, and sat on a log opposite from her.

“Looks like you've made yourself at home, Miss McCanon,” Arthur remarked with a friendly grin, not revealing any of the stress that weighed heavy on his shoulders.

“Kate,” she corrected him, casual and warm, “and yes, everyone's been lovely. I’m grateful for the company,” she replied, spooning up some stew.

“So, where is it you come from?” Lenny chimed in, initiating the conversation.

“I was born up north, near Boston. I lived there for about 20 years before traveling southwest,” she answered truthfully. Arthur noted this must be why her accent was different from most people around these parts.

“Long way from home!” Javier exclaimed, joining the conversation, “I’ve always wanted to see the north, I hear it's beautiful,” he looked up, picturing the image in his head.

Kate nodded and hummed an answer as she remembered her home, “it's very green and mountainous.”

Lenny’s voice chimed in again, “what brought you out this way? If ya dont mind me asking.” He said politely.

Kate inhaled a breath and shook her head slightly, “it's quite a long story. Suffice to say, there’s nothing left for me up there. Ain't got no family, no land or property.” She said as her expression darkened briefly.

“How come a pretty thing like you ain't married eh?” The Irish man, Sean, quipped from his seat across from her, his voice lubricated with ale. He was more than a little tipsy, already on his fourth beer of the night. Arthur tensed at his comment, Sean had a knack for stirring trouble with his loose tongue. To his surprise Kate laughed and met his banter with her own.

“Well, you see Sean, I’m just waiting for a man who can match my charm. But they seem as rare as a sober Irishman in a pub.” She shot back with a playful wink. Arthur couldn't help but chuckle.

Sean let out a whooping laugh and slapped his leg, “oh she’s a feisty Lass!” he hollered, “what’s a woman like you doing with a grumpy old bastard like Arthur? Maybe you’d like to take your chances with a handsome young gentleman such as myself.” Sean shimmied his body insinuating something nefarious. Kate only laughed and shook her head.

Arthur couldn't help but join in, “I shoulda let you hang,” he said with a snicker, masking his annoyance, “and we met on a job a few weeks back. Ran into her again down by the river when I was fishin’ with the kid.” He explained, taking a swig of his drink, he didn't want Kate to think he had any ulterior motive based on Sean’s comment.

They continued to chat together, but the conversation shifted from being about Kate to whatever absurd tale Uncle was telling. Arthur’s peace was interrupted for the third time that day by the sound of hooves approaching.

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

Kate leaned back against the log and placed her empty bowl beside her. Content after a warm hearty meal. She listened with content as the other members of the camp shared stories amongst each other.

Her gaze lingered over to Arthur, who seemed lost in thought whilst looking deep in the fire. He wrung his hands together and Kate noticed he did not grab dinner for himself. Before she could offer to fill him a bowl they all turned to the sound of hooves.

Three men were returning to camp, with a woman following behind them. She noticed, unlike the other ladies of the camp, the woman was wearing trousers, and carrying iron on her hip, she made a note to introduce herself later. Next to her, Tilly pointed out the new arrivals. The one with shaggy black hair was John, Jack’s father and Abigail’s not-so husband. He dismounted and immediately went to his tent, where Abigail was eating with Jack. The other two men were heavier, and rougher looking. Tilly said their names were Bill and Micah. The one called Bill helped himself to the stew, while the one she called Micah caught Dutch’s attention and they entered his tent together. That just left the woman, Tilly explained that she was a widow they rescued in the Grizzlies. O’Driscoll’s had killed her husband, and Micah accidently set her cabin aflame. She dismounted and pulled a white envelope from her satchel.

Approaching Arthur she held out the paper, “for you.” She said handing him the letter, “from a woman, uh, Mary Linton, I think.” He nodded and took the envelope, opening its contents. Kate was suddenly curious about this Mary woman.

The woman, Sadie, tipped her hat at Kate and Tilly before grabbing a bowl of stew and retreating back to her tent. A woman of few words, Kate recalled.

She tried to watch the fire and go back to listening to the stories, but her gaze lingered on Arthur, whatever this woman said in her letter gave him a sorrowful expression. Abruptly he stood up, shoving the paper in his back pocket, and walked away. Kate was a little disappointed he didn't say goodnight, or give any acknowledgement. She had the idea to bring him some food later to cheer him up.

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

Over an hour had passed and Kate was confident she knew all the camp members now, after everyone shared tales and fun memories of one another. The only people missing were Charles, who Tilly informed her he often went out hunting, and Kieren, who hasn't really integrated himself with the others yet. It was getting late, and she needed to feed and tend to her horse before resting herself. She bid her farewell to everyone and made her way over to her beloved mare Lorena. Briefly stopping by her tent to grab an apple for her, and a peach for Arthur. She would have to pass his tent on her way, so she figured she would offer the food then, if he wasn't already asleep.

To her surprise he wasn't on his cot, perhaps he went for a ride she thought. She continued on to find her mare with the other gang's horses near the entrance to their camp. Lorena greeted her excitedly, it had only been a few hours since she last saw her, but her baby had always been clingy.

“How ya doin’ girl,” she cooed, scratching her snout. She reached around and undid the saddle strapped to her back, “let's get this heavy thing off ya so you can rest properly.” She said pulling the saddle down. Lorena let out a happy huff in response.

Kate reached into her satchel pulling out a small blade, she tenderly cut small pieces from the apple and fed them to her horse. While she fed her she sang a soft tune, almost like a lullaby, to ease her mares nerves and settle her in for the night.

This house, she’s holding secrets.

I got my change behind the bed,

In a coffee can I can throw my nickels in.

Just in case I have to leave.

She sliced another piece of the apple and Lorena lapped it from her hand, nudging her snout into Kate’s hair, making her laugh. She continued on with her song as the quiet of the night sang its own gentle tune.

I will go if you ask me to,

I will stay if you dare.

And I go, I’m goin’ shameless.

Let my hunger take me there.

Lorena let out a soft, breathy whinny, her body growing visibly relaxed. Kate watched the other horses as she sang, most of them paid her no mind, lazily grazing on the little tufts of grass that the overlook had to offer them. She noticed Arthur’s mare, Belle, standing near a tree about a yard away. She watched them wearily, probably interested in the apple Kate was feeding. She was a beautiful white Arabian, and a stark contrast to her own black beauty, as Arthur had called her.

She paused her tune and clicked her tongue, inviting his horse to join her. Lorena stomped a hoof in protest but Kate ignored. She wanted to feed his beautiful horse, and get to know her.

“Nice to see you again, pretty girl,” she said when Belle came around the tree she was hiding near. She cut another slice of the apple and Belle sniffed her palm before gently taking the piece from her.

While feeding the two horses and gently running her fingers through their manes, she finished her song.

I will go if you ask me to.

I will stay if you dare.

And if I go, I’m goin’ crazy.

Let my darlin’ take me there.

Kate doesn't remember how she discovered it, but since the day she’s had Lorena her voice always had an effect on her horse. Maybe it was because she was the first to show her mare kindness, being rescued as a young filly taken from her mother too soon. Kate had always been a bit of a singer, her father taught her to play guitar, and her mother would often sing lullabies to her siblings when they were little. She picked it up somewhere along the way in life, it was a comfort for her. One of the last things she has of her family was their love for music, and she always carried that with her.

“That was real pretty,” a rugged voice said from the ground, a few feet away from where Kate stood. She yelped and jumped back, in the moonlight she could just barely make out Arthur’s figure resting against the tree that Belle had been standing by.

“Arthur, you scared the shit out of me! I’m surprised Lorena didn’t take off again!” She scolded. Grabbing her mare’s reins as if she were about to bolt.

He chuckled and stood up, brushing his jeans, “well Lorena already knew I was here,” he said in a hushed voice, almost teasing.

Kate blushed and realized he was right, the horses knew he was there, she was the one who didn't look down. “Sorry,” she admitted, “but you really did scare the daylight out of me,” she laughed, feeling less embarrassed now. “I um, noticed you didn't have dinner with us tonight,” she said changing the subject.

Arthur sighed and scratched the back of his neck, “uh yeah, just wasn't hungry is all.” He said bluntly.

“Are you alright?” Kate asked flat-out, Arthur blinked in surprise at her question, “the letter you received earlier, I noticed it made you upset.” She explained.

Arthur let out a breath, “oh that, it’s…complicated,” he admitted.

“I see. I won’t pry if you don’t want to talk about it,” she said, reaching into her satchel and pulling out the fresh peach she had brought him. “I brought you a snack, in case you were hungry. I was gonna bring it to your tent but you weren’t there,” she smiled handing him the treat.

Arthur’s heart leapt at the gesture. It had been a long time since someone paid attention to him like this. Sure everyone at the camp always asks how he is or how his day went, what he’s up to and what not. Aside from his short talks with Tilly and Mary-Beth. The rest of the gang never seemed to notice when he doesn't eat, or when he’s not at camp. When he was in a sour mood they avoided him like the plague, and when he was upset Dutch would just say, “chin up, boy.” He was the right hand man of the gang leader, but he always felt invisible. Like he was nothing more than a big dumb strong arm.

“That really for me?” He said, unable to hide the smile in his voice, “peaches ain’t even in season, where'd you get this?”

“A man from Georgia came through Emerald ranch the other day, he was selling a bunch of fruit so I bought some peaches,” she explained. She went back to cutting slices of her apple and feeding them to Lorena.

Arthur held the peach in his hands as if he were admiring the plushy soft flesh, “thank you,” he said sincerely.

“Don't mention it,” she replied warmly. Arthur held the peach and watched Kate feed her horse while he stroked his mare with his free hand.

“I meant what I said earlier, ‘fore I scared you,” he said quietly, “the song, well, your voice, is real pretty,” he complimented again.

Kate laughed quietly, “thank you Arthur, It's something I've always found comfort in.”

“I heard you singin’ for her when we was back at Emerald ranch,” he continued, “you must have a special bond with that horse.” He looked at Lorena who was breathing quietly and closing her eyes as Kate scratched under her jaw.

“Lorena and I have a complicated history,” she began, “she was just a filly when I got her, scared and alone, and I was, well I was pretty much the same,” she added quietly, not wanting to reveal too much emotion in her tone, “I guess her and I needed each other more than we realized.”

Arthur sensed her discomfort and began telling her about his own mare, “well that's more than I can say about Belle,” he started with a half laugh to ease the tension, “She found me in the Grizzlies about a month ago, I was stuck between a rock and a hard place when,” he paused a moment and looked somber as he reflected on the memory, “when my old horse Bodasia didn't make it through the snow storm, I thought I was going to die too.” He patted Belle affectionately. “That's when she found me, I could barely make out between her white coat and the snow. But she wasn't scared of me, came right up to me as if she was sayin’ follow me, I’ll get you out of here .”

Kate watched as Arthur nuzzled his horse lovingly, it always warmed her heart to see people have such deep bonds with their horses. They were incredible animals, and very in tune with their owners' own emotions. For Belle to trust Arthur from the beginning, and stand by his side since, he must be a very special man.

“That's beautiful, she chose you Arthur. That bond is stronger than anything you could have bought from a stable or caught in the wild.” She said somberly.

Arthur nodded in agreement, the two tended to their horses in a comfortable silence. The sound of the night’s chorus around them.

After a moment, Arthur spoke up again, “the letter was from my old flame, Mary,” he began, his voice tinted with quiet sadness. Kate realized he was comfortable enough to open up to her about it, she dared not interrupt. “She's….she's askin’ for my help.”

“What kind of help?” Kate asked softly.

Arthur sighed and shook his head, “She's in a tough spot,” he explained, his gaze distant as he recounted Mary's plea for assistance. "Her family's facing trouble, and she's desperate for someone to turn to."

"Sounds like she trusts you," Kate remarked, offering him a sympathetic look.

Arthur nodded, his expression conflicted. "We had our moments," he admitted, a hint of nostalgia in his voice. "But things didn't end well between us."

“I’m sorry to hear that,” she spoke.

He sighed heavily, his gaze drifting to the ground. "Yeah, well, sometimes things just don't work out the way we hope," he replied, his voice tinged with regret.

Kate could sense the weight of his words, the burden of past regrets bearing down on him. She reached out a hand, placing it gently on his arm in a gesture of comfort. "You can't blame yourself for everything, Arthur," she said softly. "People change, circumstances change. It's just a part of life."

For a moment, they sat in silence, lost in their own thoughts as the night enveloped them in its embrace. After a while, Arthur spoke up again, his tone more subdued. "I don't know what to do, Kate," he admitted, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "Part of me wants to help Mary, but another part...well, another part just wants to leave the past behind and move on."

Kate nodded sympathetically, understanding the internal struggle he was facing. "It's not an easy decision to make," she acknowledged. "But whatever you choose, just make sure it's what's best for you."

Arthur let out a weary sigh, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "Yeah, easier said than done," he muttered, his brow furrowed in contemplation.

"You'll figure it out, Arthur," she reassured him, her voice filled with conviction. "If life didn't give us second chances, then we would all be alone. We rely on each other, lean on each other, to make it through the tough times. Helping others isn't a weakness, it's a testament to our humanity. Even if they've hurt us in the past.”

Arthur offered her a grateful smile, "Thanks, Kate," he said softly, his voice tinged with gratitude. "I appreciate that more than you know."

With a nod of understanding, Kate squeezed his arm reassuringly before returning her attention to Lorena. Together, they sat in companionable silence, the sound of the forest as their backdrop. After a moment, Arthur retrieved the peach from his satchel, its juicy aroma filling the air as he bit into its sweet flesh. Lost in thought, his mind wandered to the woman who had unexpectedly entered his life and stirred emotions he thought long buried.

41 notes · View notes

allwaswell16 · 2 months ago

Text

Answer these questions and tag 10 people you want to get to know better. Thanks @himynameiszayn & @haztobegood for tagging me <3 <3

Last song? Femininomenon by Chappell Roan

Last book? The Mystery of Mercy Close by Marian Keyes. I could NOT figure out the mystery until the very end of the book. When the author finally reveals it, I threw the book across the room. I mean that literally.

Last movie? Beetlejuice. The old one, not the new one. Haven't seen the new one yet.

Last tv show? Only Murders in the Building. Tried to watch an episode while I ate lunch today, but for some reason Hulu cut off towards the end of the episode and went to the next episode, so I rage quit. I'll have to go back and watch the end of the episode at some point now.

sweet / spicy / savory: sweet

Last thing googled: Peaky Blinders wiki. I'm trying to finish writing my Louis/Thomas Shelby fic for Louis Rare Pair Fest.

Current obsession: Nelly on Great British Bake Off. Dylan, too. Honestly, they're all very charming this season.

Looking forward to: LT3 (long-term) Christmas (short term)

I'll tag: @lonelychicago @tangerinequeen19 @super--noah @nunchailou @starlightandmemories @hl-obsessed @songsofhome @sunflowervoltwentyeight @onesweetworld18 @quitegenerous

if you want to do this! And anyone who wants to do this, just say I tagged you!

#tag things

10 notes · View notes

boredmezzosoprano · 8 months ago

Text

In defence of Catherine Earnshaw

I just wanted to take this time to talk about the heroine of my all time favourite book Wuthering Heights. She is often described as "selfish" by a lot of readers and yes this is true, but there are reasons for why she acts the way she does. It bothers me how much quicker people are to defend Heathcliff than her when if you ask me, Heathcliff has done worse things than her i.e manipulating and abusing Isabella Linton, abusing his own sickly son, abusing Hareton and robbing him of his inheritance, manipulating Catherine Linton into marrying his son and then robbing her of her inheritance and kidnapping her so she couldn’t be with her dying father and then there’s the little matter of him being the last person to see Hindley before he mysteriously dies (admittedly Hindley was an a$$hole, but still). Don’t think I’m unsympathetic to Heathcliff’s own pain and suffering - I am, it’s just that you cannot judge Cathy harshly while whitewashing Heathcliff’s character🤷🏼‍♀️ Anyway the points I want people to keep in mind are thus:

Like Heathcliff, nobody ever really raised Cathy as her parents both died when she was a child (and even then she wasn’t the favourite of either of them) and Hindley and Nelly couldn’t have been less bothered. Even though the Linton's tried to tame her spirit and mould her into "a lady" it makes sense that her default mode will always be that of a feral child.

People often accuse her of being a gold digger and yes she did plan on marrying Edgar for his money in the hopes of using that money to get Heathcliff out from under Hindley's tyranny, it should be remembered that Cathy really did love Edgar too just not as much as Heathcliff. Also how was she to know that Heathcliff was able to make his own fortune? Given that he never reveals how he made his money and nobody ever finds out how could she have known. It’s speculated that he became a highwayman i.e a glorified thief, most people would choose to avoid living such a precarious lifestyle if given the choice and its hard to blame for not wanting to live a vagabond existence, even Heathcliff admits that he "struggled". As a woman living in the 1700s the only honourable way she could make any kind of life for herself was by getting married!

When she marries Edgar she had no idea where Heathcliff was and when or if he was ever coming back and her choices were limited to marrying into a family who treat you well or stay in your own chaotic and miserable household with your violent drunk if a brother and a maid who’s made it clear she hates you and does not see you as worth her time. So yeah…

Catherine seems to suffer from some sort of disease that’s only ever described as "brain fever". Some readers have described it as encephalitis and others have called it epilepsy. In any case anytime she’s aggravated or upset in anyway she becomes violently ill and this ultimately kills her. With that in mind it becomes understandable that she would actively avoid anything that would cause her any distress as it could (and did) kill her!

There were moments in the book where Cathy with her mood swings came across to me as being bipolar or at least having some kind of personality disorder. Nelly describes her as "having seasons of gloom" during her marriage and she self harms a couple of times in the book. She also threatens to kill herself if it would get a reaction! She seems to place her own sense of value on the men in her life which shows a fundamental lack of self esteem. As someone with BPD these things all hit home for me very deeply, but unlike Cathy I have the freedom to back away from situations that trigger me (well most of the time) and access to medications that even my moods.

While it was undeniably harsh of Cathy to humiliate Isabella by revealing her feelings for Heathcliff with both of them in the room but at the same time she wasn’t wrong to try to snap Isabella out of this naive fantasy. Isabella is a character I care about deeply but it’s obvious that she was in way over her head when it came to Heathcliff! Cathy knew better than anyone that he hated Isabella and would only hurt her. Sometimes you have to be cruel to be kind. Poor Isabella does ultimately learn too late that Cathy was right. Even Nelly has to begrudgingly agree with Cathy on this one.

Speaking of Nelly, it should be remembered that everything we learn about Cathy as well as many other characters, we learn only from Nelly who it is clear is quite biased against the characters whose story she is telling. Because she can’t relate to the intense emotions of the other characters she tends to assume that it must be because there’s something wrong with them. It’s entirely possible that Nelly made Cathy out to be far worse than she actually was. It has to be said that Nelly is a character that I tend to back and forth on…

Anyway that’s my take on Catherine Earnshaw. If you disagree that’s fine but please no rude comments cuz we’re all adults and we can agree to disagree😉

#wuthering heights #catherine earnshaw #Cathy and Heathcliff #cathycliff #character study #emily bronte

26 notes · View notes

xxrainshadowsxx · 5 months ago

Text

New Elite Chapter 12

God, I'm sorry this took forever. In my defense, this was by far the hardest chapter to write. The language of the time period coupled with smut was a CHALLENGE. But yeah, smut ahead.

Nellie takes you inside, knowing her way around from the few times she’d been here to help prepare for your arrival. You barely have any time to take in the expansive interior of the dark house before Nellie shows you into a room, getting lights on for you and having you sit at a large vanity.

As Nellie prepares, you look around the room that now belonged to you. There was a bed taking up most of the space, and it was outfitted with extra blankets for the winter. A closet there was also, stuffed to the brim with clothes, most of them unfamiliar. There were a couple new jewelry boxes on the vanity, but what surprised you most of all was a small bookshelf containing all of your favorites. He’d even procured a copy of Shakespeare’s entire works for you.

“How did he know what I like?” you ask as Nellie drifts back over to you, the lights now bathing the room in a warm yellow glow. “The books, I mean. I’m shocked he went to the trouble of getting all these.”

“He asked me,” Nellie responds mildly as she looks around for a brush. “When he was first bringing me to work from your mother’s, he asked me a lot of things about you. I daresay you’ll find your closet full of styles and colors you prefer, and that he’ll have his cook prepare plenty of your favorite foods.”

You blink a few times. You certainly never expected him to go to the lengths of discussing those things with Nellie to make a more comfortable environment for you. Even Mrs. Ryan had not done that, though you supposed that stay was always meant to be temporary.

But even those small comforts, lovely as they are, can’t cure the anxiety that the night still brings. You suspect Nellie senses this, for she gently turns your attention away from everything and back to the vanity. “Let’s get all of this out of your hair,” she murmurs as she starts carefully removing pins.

There’s no hope of getting the curls out of your hair without another bath, which you definitely do not have time for. Therefore, all Nellie does is brush them out slightly, arranging them in a less messy order. You liked having your hair down, though it did seem a little unusual now. Nellie also helps you out of your bridal gown and into a luxurious white robe your new husband had provided for you.

“What am I supposed to do afterwards? Am I supposed to come back here?” you ask as Nellie drips a tiny bit more perfume on your wrists.

“I’m sure he’ll let you know. He won’t let you get lost,” she says as soothingly as she can, right as there’s a knock on the door. You blanche, but Nellie’s already standing to answer it.

She barely cracks the door so you don’t see the speaker, but you do hear an unfamiliar male voice. “My master is requesting the presence of his wife.”

“Tell him I shall bring her posthaste. She’s just finishing getting ready,” Nellie answers in a low voice before closing the door and turning back to you. “You know I can’t stall any longer,” she apologizes. “But don’t fret much. He’ll be gentle with you, you know that.”

“I know,” you sigh, running your fingers through your hair once. “I’ve just been taught my whole life to fear this. That won’t go away, no matter what assurances he or anyone else gives me. But give me the tincture, will you?”

Nellie takes the fertility tincture and puts a couple drops under your tongue, then you take a sip of water to wash the bitter taste out. Now you truly can’t put this off. “You’ll be fine,” Nellie insists before she creaks the door open again, waiting for you out in the hall. You allow yourself one deep breath before following her.

The mysterious man is gone, and you encounter no one as you follow Nellie down the hall. You’re surprised that his own bedroom isn’t far from yours; you’d assume he’d want a bit more privacy. But Nellie points out the correct door herself, and based on the small bit of light you see escaping from the bottom, you’re sure it’s the right one.

She gives you a brief hug before disappearing into the darkness. You watch her go, then lift your hand to rap your knuckles against the wood.

Almost instantly, he opens the door for you, smiling slightly before stepping aside to let you through. You walk in rubbing your arms, feeling decidedly self-conscious. “You look lovely,” he starts, capturing one of your curls in between his fingers. “You should wear your hair down more often. It suits you.”

“It’s not considered proper for a woman to wear her hair down in public, especially a married one,” you state baldly, giving him the bog standard answer that had been drilled into you since birth.

“Well, I’m not going to force those rules on you in the house,” he says in that same soft voice. “You can dress and wear your hair how you like when it’s just the two of us.” You refrain from saying anything. You didn’t think he meant to come off like this, but his talk of what he “allowed” you to do sounded a lot like he was making you his property. You wouldn’t say anything about it this time, but you didn’t like it.

He plays with your curl for a moment more before letting it fall. “Look,” he says with a heavy sigh. “I’m not blind. I can tell you’re scared. We… don’t have to do this if you don’t want. I won’t touch you unless you want me to.”

You look up at him in near disbelief. Now that you were married, it was his right to get what he wanted from you, whenever he liked. You’d always been told you’d have no say in it, and that it was your duty as a wife to always be available to him. But here he was, offering you an out, and you believed him to be perfectly sincere.

And even more surprisingly, you didn’t want to take it.

“I think the longer we put this off, the more nervous I’ll become,” you try to explain. “I don’t want to do that. And I’m not scared because it’s you. Nervous, yes, I think I’d feel that with anyone… but out of everyone, I’m glad it’s you.”

He takes one step closer to you. “So, just to be clear, I have permission to do this?” he double-checks.

“Yes,” you breathe.

He closes the rest of the distance between the two of you in two long strides and puts one of his hands on the side of your face. He pauses to look you in the eyes, like he can’t believe this is happening, before his other hand goes behind your neck and he pulls you into a kiss.

Inadvertently, a sigh escapes the back of your throat. Unlike at your wedding, this kiss is a bit faster, almost primal. Yet it still fills you with the same butterflies, the same yearning for more. Your hands come to rest on his chest, and you do your best to kiss him back despite your inexperience.

“Dear God,” he growls against your mouth before threading his hand into your hair, pulling you closer. He opens his mouth slightly and you feel his tongue glide across your lower lip. You gasp, and he slips his tongue into your mouth, and a sound you’ve never heard yourself make before is wrenched from your throat. In all the stories you’ve heard about wedding nights, from Mrs. Ryan gently giving you a reminder the week prior, to the flippant remarks by Alice’s mother scattered throughout your youth, to your mother’s constant lessons about a wife’s duty, none of them had mentioned that it would feel so good.

Eventually, you have to pull away. “Can’t breathe,” you manage to get out since he’s giving you a quizzical look. In response, he instead moves his lips to your neck, gently kissing along the skin he finds and works his way to your clavicle. Your knees nearly give out when he does this, and a sound that you can only describe as a moan is wrenched from your throat.

After a moment, his mouth comes back up, capturing your lips again. You do your best to move your lips along with his as your arms snake around his neck. You’re not sure exactly what to do with them, but having them around him just feels right, especially since he seems to be pulling you even closer. You just don’t want to be doing the wrong thing and disappoint him, especially not with how unbelievably good he’s made you feel so far.

Without warning, while he’s still kissing you, he hooks his arms around your thighs and picks you up, securing your legs around his waist for more stability. You squeak slightly in surprise, but don’t care to break the kiss with him.

He’s the one to pull away from you a moment later as he deposits you on his bed. You desperately try to reorient yourself from how lightheaded he’s made you feel, but he isn’t doing anything to help matters. Instead, he’s unbuttoning his white shirt with impatient fingers before veritably ripping the thing off, leaving you even more disoriented.

You’d never before in your life seen a man without his shirt on. And though you had nothing to compare it to, you couldn’t say at all you were disappointed in what you saw. His torso was much harder than your soft, feminine form. And while he wasn’t quite as well-defined as an ancient Greek or Roman statue, you found his natural look even more mesmerizing.

He pauses with undressing himself once his shirt is off to extinguish a few of the lamps in the room, leaving only one on in the end. Though the room is significantly darkened, you could still see him well enough, which you liked. Satisfied, he joins you on the bed and crawls on top of you to kiss you again.

It’s almost too much to have him this close while he’s wearing so little. Without meaning to, your hands come to rest on his chest again, very much of their own accord. He hisses and shoves himself away from you, making you wince.

“I’m sorry!” you squeak instantly. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what I’m doing, I didn’t mean to mess up–”

“You’re not,” he cuts you off in a voice that sounds oddly strangled. “God, sweetheart, trust me, you’re not doing anything wrong. I’m just trying to take my time, alright? I want you to enjoy this too, but if you keep doing what you’re doing, I’m not going to have a lot of self-control left.”

His words confuse more than reassure you. It sounded like he both wanted you to stop and keep going at the same time, and you weren’t sure which he wanted more. And he wanted you to enjoy it? By all accounts you’d heard, this was going to hurt, not be enjoyable.

Although you couldn’t deny that you had liked it so far. The physical sensations were almost too much, but they were definitely good.

“So… what exactly do you want me to do?” you ask demurely. You wanted complete clarification before proceeding. You’d heard the old adage that it was better to ask forgiveness rather than permission, but in this circumstance, you didn’t think that rule applied.

“You can keep doing what you’re doing, just take it easy when it comes to touching me?” he requests. “It’s not that I dislike it, it’s just that… well… maybe it’s best to let me take the lead tonight?” You nod in assent, resolving to try and keep your hands under control, no matter how curious you were to explore him.

He leans over you to kiss you again, and this time, you rest your hands lightly on either side of his face. He seems to be okay with this–he doesn’t stop you in any case–and you’re slowly starting to feel more comfortable again when you feel him try and tug at the tie holding your robe closed.

You inhale sharply, causing him to immediately pull back. “We can stop,” he mutters, still sounding oddly strangled. “I won’t do anything you don’t want me to, I promise.”

“Why are you so determined to stop?” you ask, suddenly feeling quite as humiliated when he nearly kissed you in the hall of Mrs. Ryan’s house before backing out at the last second. “I feel like it’s you who doesn’t want me.”

“Darling, nothing could be further from the truth,” he insists. “I want you very badly, believe me, but I also know this is entirely new for you. I don’t want to scare you or make you uncomfortable.”

You look him dead in the eyes, finding no hint of a lie. Slowly and very deliberately, you reach down to the tie of your robe and pull it undone in one motion. Still looking at him, you shrug the garment off your shoulders, still mostly covered, but the invitation is there. “I want this, and I want it to be you,” you repeat in a whisper.

He gives you a look that you can’t quite identify before leaning down to place a tender kiss to your lips. “If you’re sure,” he murmurs before pushing the robe further down your arms, helping you remove the limbs entirely. You hadn’t bothered with a chemise, so all of the sudden, you were bare before him.

He pulls back from you again and just looks at you, his expression akin to if he had just been struck over the head. “Lord, have mercy,” he groans, almost to himself before one of his hands trails from your side up to your breast, drawing a long whine out of you, one that you barely recognize as your own voice.

“Does that feel good?” he whispers. You can only nod desperately, words completely lost to you. Emboldened, he covers your breast with his palm, kneading gently. Something you don’t have a name for is pooling in you, coming to settle in between your legs. It was mortifying, and you’d never admit it out loud, but you wanted him to touch you there next.

He can’t read your mind, so of course he doesn’t listen to your unspoken plea. Instead, he trails his lips down to your neck, leaving small kisses along the way until he reaches your collarbone. Then, without any warning, he takes your skin between his teeth and begins to suck.

“Oh, God!” you cry out arching your back so your body is pressed further into his. The sensations he’s giving to you are some that you’ve never experienced before, and you had no idea anything could ever feel this good. His mouth moved over you expertly, though you didn’t want to acknowledge the likely reason he was so good at this. You push those intrusive thoughts away; all you wanted to focus on right now was your husband and how deliciously he was working you up.

He releases your skin with a wet pop, and you look down and and just catch the edge of what looks like a dark purple mark in the line of your vision. You don’t have long to dwell on it though; his mouth has moved again, and now his lips have wrapped themselves around your nipple.

“God… f–” you start but just barely stop yourself from cursing. You’d never felt any inclination to do so before, but his ministrations were taking your manners and throwing them to the wayside.

He releases you after a moment, a brazen smile on his face; clearly, he believes himself to be doing an exemplary job. He was, but you didn’t want to admit that to his face. So before he can say anything, you pull him back down to you for another searing kiss.

You can tell you’ve surprised him, but he recovers quickly and kisses you back enthusiastically. As he’s doing so, perhaps to get you back for catching him off guard, he gets his still-clothed leg in between yours and his thigh creates a gentle, yet steady and unyielding pressure against your core.

At this point, you let out a mewl so loud it can probably be heard by the whole house. You’ll most likely be ashamed of that tomorrow, but at the moment you couldn’t find the capacity to care. All you wanted was for him to relieve the building pressure in your core.

He pulls away a moment later, and his weight leaves you entirely as he gets off the bed and tears off the remainder of his clothes with impatience. And as much as it makes your face flame red, you can’t help but look.

Your first thought was panic. Seeing his erection, all you can think is that there’s no chance that it’s going to fit inside you. You didn’t see how anything at all would fit, but certainly not something that big. You suddenly understood why everyone had warned you it was going to hurt, because that would undoubtedly cause pain if he tried to put it anywhere inside you.

Thankfully, the moment doesn’t seem to be upon you quite yet, for when he gets back on top of you, it’s just to kiss you again. That doesn’t last long, however; his erection pokes your thigh, and while that doesn’t hurt, it’s much more firm than you had anticipated.

“Sorry,” he winces. “I’m trying to make sure you’re ready for it, but I realize it gets in the way, and that you’re not exactly used to this.”

“Does it hurt?” you blurt out before you can stop yourself. You don’t see how it couldn’t hurt, being swollen like that.

“No, it doesn’t,” he says with a small chuckle. “However, I’m more concerned with not hurting you, so, with your permission, can I get you ready?” You have no idea what he means by that, but with how incredible he’d already made you feel tonight, you were eager to experience more of that. Moreover, you trusted him. So you do your best to relax into the mattress and nod for him to continue.

He kisses you once before balancing his weight on his calves as he sits up. Watching you closely to gauge your reaction, he reaches down and swipes a single finger through your center.

“Oh, God!” you cry out, tossing your head back. All of the sensations so far had been nothing, nothing, compared to this. This was heavenly, and you wanted nothing more than for him to continue plucking you like a harp.

He swears under his breath when his finger makes contact. “Damn, darling, you’re so wet,” he purrs. While that should have been mortifying beyond belief, the way he says it makes you swell with pride, like you’re finally getting something right.

He continues to move his fingers around your folds, paying particular attention to your sighs to let him know when he finds a sweet spot. When he makes contact with one little bud near the center, you feel like you’re going to combust after only a few seconds of him massaging it.

You’re doing your best to keep from outright screaming, but your frequent moans and sighs seem to spur him on, and he often responds to your sounds by cursing in a low tone. He looks up at you, and you’re quite sure your face is red and not at all attractive, but he mutters “So beautiful,” before slowly sinking one finger into you.

You’re expecting pain. You tense, preparing yourself for it, but it never comes. You can definitely feel that there’s something there, but it doesn’t hurt in the slightest. “Is this okay?” he murmurs, to which you can only nod. “Tell me if anything feels uncomfortable,” he instructs before he slowly starts moving his finger in and out of you, building up at a deliciously, tantalizingly glacial pace. It’s heavenly.

You feel a bit more pressure than before, but it still doesn’t hurt, and it would take an act of the divine for you to want to stop now, so you let him keep going. Without you even realizing it, your hips start to rock against his hand, matching his movements with your own.

Then he brings his hand up to massage that little bud he’d found earlier, and for the second time that night, you only just manage to bite back a curse.

“It’s alright darling,” he whispers, his breath hot on your ear. “Let it out for me.”

You’re not quite sure what “it” is, but by God, “it” does exactly as he says. You curl up, letting out a near scream, clawing at his back, desperate for something to hold onto. Whatever happened was almost too much to comprehend, and indeed, the sheer euphoria of it all but shuts your brain completely down for a couple minutes as you attempt to recover.

You don’t notice him removing his fingers from you, but he must have at some point or another; he’s sitting on his thighs, hands at his sides. He waits patiently for your breathing to return to normal, with just a hint of a smug aura about him.

Calming down takes several minutes, and after he deems you’ve finally returned from whatever high he’d taken you to, he asks, “Do you want to keep going?” You nod, words still not something you’re capable of. You don’t care if it hurts now, you’d do just about anything to feel that high once more.

He positions himself on top of you, most of his weight on his arms, but you can still feel his chest pressed against yours. “Tell me if it hurts. I’ll go slow, I promise,” he reiterates before gingerly inserting himself into you, making you gasp as you anticipate pain that never makes an appearance.

There’s certainly more pressure than before, and it’s growing as he pushes more of himself into you, but it’s nothing that could even remotely be considered painful. You relax the muscles in your face as you get used to the intrusion, and after a moment he starts to pull back, slowly starting to create a steady rhythm of in and out.

It's like nothing you've ever experienced before. Even his hand a moment ago hadn't created sensations like this. Your breathing gets heavy again, and even he's starting to make noises as he buries his head in your neck. His hips start moving faster, and subconsciously, almost by instinct, your legs come up to wrap around his waist, while your own hips rise to meet his.

You feel that same crest start to rise in you again, even more intense than it was last time. Your nails dig into the skin of his back, but he either doesn't notice or doesn't care. Instead, he just speeds up his movements, letting out a string of expletives into your neck now.

His faster motions only serve to help bring you to the top of that crest faster, and within minutes he sends you over with a long, high-pitched something coming out of your mouth as each of your limbs presses his body even closer to yours. He initially doesn't slow down, prolonging the feeling for you for a few moments before he goes limp, panting heavily.

For a while, it seems all either of you can do is stay still, focusing on catching your breath. He's the first one to move, and he does nothing more than roll off of you, leaving you feeling strangely empty and with some sort of sticky residue in between your legs.

You're suddenly very self-conscious of the fact that you're wearing nothing, but you don't have the strength to sit up and look for a blanket. Instead, your hand blindly searches for one until he throws a sheet over you. “That's what you were looking for, right? Don't know why you want the blasted thing but…” he trails off as he needs to catch his breath again, eyes still closed.

You give him a few moments before daring to use your own voice. “Was that… I mean, were you… satisfied?” You'd been told that men would finish and spill themselves inside a woman, but you were far too embarrassed to actually say those words aloud.

He lets out a short, barking laugh. “Don't worry yourself on that front. I am well beyond satisfied.” You let out an inaudible sigh of relief. At least you weren't a total failure in this particular aspect of being a wife.

You're also acutely aware of the fact that, now that he's spent, you were to redress yourself and make your way back to your own room, though you had no idea how to do that without Nellie to guide you. But before you can even get out of the bed to put your robe back on, he rolls over, throwing an arm around your waist. “Stay?” he asks simply. His tone makes it clear that this is a request, not a demand. As always with him, you could decline if you so chose.

“Okay,” you whisper instead, to which he smiles sleepily at you. He moves only to turn off the remaining light before he's back in the bed, holding you close.

You expect it to take a while to fall asleep, what with the unfamiliar bed, as well as a whole other person there with you. But you're so worn out that sleep comes quickly and you sink into it, comforted by your husband's arms around you.

#fanfiction #onceler fanfiction #the onceler #onceler x reader #the lorax #also on ao3 #onceler

18 notes · View notes