#Trot wHinniEs

[muppetjokernumbersixtyninefan]

if I may ask, what are your pronouns?

neigH snORtS nEigh/neigH snORtS nEighS

...neIgh Neigh gALLop Snort nEigh tRot neIgh fOal bUckS NEighS SnorT neigH trOt bUck neiGH, Snort wHinniEs/wHinniEs snoRt

*neIghS wHinny trOt bUck foaL neigheD Snort cAnter whinnY Trot neigH cAnTer Whinny foAlS sNOrT cAntereD neIGh cAnTer NEigh gallOP tROt sNOrt bUck NeighS cAnTer gALLop, neIgh'Mare JUmpS TroT snoRt whinnY neighING TrOt MAre bucK nEighS neIgh gaLLop whinnY neigH snORtS nEigh Jump snOrt bucK whinniES

[cherryblossom-enthusiast]

Unrequited (Arthur Morganxf! Reader) - RDR2

A/N: Whoever decided that there could be a button where Arthur Morgan says "good girl" how ever many times you want, I hope both sides of your pillow are cold.

Synopsis: Arthur loved Mary, didn't he? So, why was it he was spouting all this nonesense about loving you?

Warning/ Tags: Angst. But like SO MUCH FLUFF. Allusions to Sex. Mentions of violence. Coarse language. Kissing. Hurt/ Comfort. Angst with a happy ending.

Word Count: 6.1K

Masterlist

Even now, Arthur Morgan was a lovesick fool for Mary Linton.

You shouldn’t have been surprised; you weren’t really. Arthur doesn’t talk about her much anymore, but you’d known him long enough to see he’d never really let that part of himself go. The part of him that loves. That dreams of something better for himself even if he thinks he’s the big, bad, scary man that he is.

And maybe in some aspect, he is that man.

Threatening, bartering, killing. Sometimes you look into his eyes and see nothing but a hard, desolate exterior that wouldn’t think twice about shooting anybody up so long as Dutch told him to do it. But the reality Arthur Morgan doesn’t want to accept is that there’s goodness hiding within the moulding of a gunslinger enforcer.

You can glimpse that goodness when he helps a woman on the road or gives medicine to a man dying from snake poison, and you can especially see it when he’s hauling his ass on his horse to help Mary even when he’s being pulled left and right to finish errands for the camp.

So no, you shouldn’t have been surprised that Arthur would ride out the earliest he could to help his past lover.

But hell, why did it have to hurt you every damn time?

He returns to camp just after the sun rises and light starts to colour the world around you. The air is still crisp, and the heat of the sun is non-existent on your skin.  You’re brushing your horse’s mane when you hear the familiar holler of his voice towards Bill. You don’t look towards him as his horse trots towards the hitching post.

As he dismounts, he greets you, a little pep in the tone of his voice.

It irritates you immediately.

“Mornin’.”

You grit your teeth and put on the brightest smile you can muster. “Mornin’!”

He takes a moment. His eyebrows crease. “Something matter?”

“Uh-?”

“Nothing it’s just-“ he breaks to think about the right words to say. “You don’t look- Never mind.”

This only encourages you to grow your façade stronger. “So,” you start “what’d Mary need this time?” It comes off a little pettier than you intended it to be. He doesn’t deserve that, hell, Mary didn’t deserve your bitterness either, fine woman she was.

That little fact seemed inconsequential however every time he uttered her name and the familiar feeling of jealousy pricked, downright stabbed itself in your gut.

He picks up on your tone, not appreciating it one bit. The displeasure that carves into his expression almost makes you wince and the fake smile that’s plastered on your face twitches the slightest bit. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You take the coward’s way out, you always do.

You break eye contact and continue to brush away the embarrasment. You’re rewarded by a loving whinny and it almost distracts you from the ice-cold awkwardness you’ve built around this conversation. “Nothin��, just asking.”

Whether he believes your fib or doesn’t, he doesn’t let it show. But him moving on has you thanking God regardless. He takes out a brush, starting to work on his own mare’s mane. “Good girl.” He whispers. Warmth creeps up your neck as your ears tingle towards the baritone timber of his voice. It makes you lose all self-respect for yourself. He sneaks a look at you for the tiniest bit of time before continuing your conversation. “Her brother was involved in some weird religious group.”

“Is that right?”

“Yep,” he sighs “buncha turtle lovers.”

That gets a genuine chuckle out of you even though you don’t understand it. When you glance towards Arthur’s direction, the indifference has faded away from his features and all that’s left is a sarcastic smirk in its place. All frost has melted away and all too quickly you’re back to the ease that usually came with your dynamic.

You can’t help but throw a snide joke his way. “Gosh, if you’re still this involved in their family drama, you should just make it official and propose again.”

The idea haunts you, of course, it does. But you weren’t going to let Arthur know that. The more you joke, the more it becomes real, the more your true feelings become buried underneath a pile of age-old lies and supportive nonsense. Because at the end of the day, if it would make Arthur happy, you’d keep biting your lip and pushing him towards that happiness. 

Love worked funny like that.

His smirk falls and you’re worried you pushed it a tad bit too far. “I tried once and I don’t know if it’ll ever happen.” He turns almost sombre, like thinking back on old memories that were equal parts sweet and bitter and this bothers you in a different way.

“I sincerely think if you were to propose to her right now, she’d say yes with no questions asked.” You hope he sees the genuineness in your intentions.

He merely gives you a scoff, slightly shaking his head. “Yeah well,” he trails off. “It’d never work out now.”

You decide not to continue pushing. It’s obvious he doesn’t want to dig deeper into the situation and even in your sorry narrow-minded state, you could understand and respect keeping your mouth shut when you needed to. You lick your lips and stick another sickly-sweet smile to your face. ���Well, you continue on moping, but I can’t say I’ll be sticking around to see you grumbling around.”

That gets him to snort. “And where will the rough and tough princess be today? Helping a rabbit off the road? Wait-“ he pauses for dramatic effect “Talking to the birds and singing em’ a song?” He makes himself chortle quietly at the idea.

“I have a date.”

That gets him to stop cold turkey. He’s only met with a smug appearance on your end. “You?”

You fake great offence and snap at him. “Hey! Even I can seduce someone if I try!”

“No, I know- I” He appears shaken up about your revelation and for a moment, the tiniest fraction of a second, you could almost see the tensing of his jaw. “With who?”

It’s your turn to leer at him. “Why’s it matter?”

“It doesn’t I-“ he stutters “I just-“

You raise an eyebrow. “Well if you must know, he works at the hardware store.” You say as you recall the day you met the gentleman. “I helped him carry out some tasks and he gave me a daffodil in exchange, of all things.” You pointed at the flower currently tucked in the band of your hat. “Cutest thing.”

“Is that right?” He gruffed out.

“Mhm, so I’m gonna escort him and his granddaughter to a birthday party out in Strawberry.” You giggle. “He said he needed a ‘fighter’ with him because of his ‘old bones’ and ‘lumbago’” You roll your eyes. “Sounds like Uncle.”

This seems to take Arthur by surprise. The dark clouds in his eyes clear out and his eyebrows furrow in confusion. “Wha-?”

You bite your lip to keep your internal laughter from spilling. “Listen, I offered.” You explain. “He’s been giving me discounts at the store and that girl is just the sweetest thing and well-“ you shrug, “I couldn’t say no like the goddamn softie I am.”

The blades in his eyes dull at the statement. The mysterious scrunch of his shoulders from earlier disappears. He steps away from his horse and walks around his mare to shorten the gap between the two of you. It reminds you that he’s tall, much bigger than you are. “That bleedin’ heart of yours is gonna get you killed one day.”

He mutters his words lightly and yet, there’s some odd sadness you don’t understand attached to it. He puckers his lips as if he wants to say more on the matter yet can’t.

You put on your best Arthur impression, puffing up your chest and scrunching your face. “Well, somehow this don’t suit me, now does it?”

He wouldn’t even have to touch you.

At that, Arthur chuckles deeply. “Nah, you obviously ain’t tall enough to be me, shortcake.” He jabs you playfully at the shoulder and in response, you over-exaggerate the motion of being pushed back.

Though, if he really wanted to, Arthur could have you on your back in less than a second.

Before you can go further down that rabbit hole of thoughts, you carry on with the train of humour. “Besides, heard from Jerry there’ll be plenty of cute fellas around to keep me entertained.”

The clouds start to roll back in his demeanour, dare you say with a touch of thunder this time. “You gonna be looking at other men?” The lightness in his voice is gone, only replaced with the venom from before.

You’re befuddled at the quick-changing atmosphere, but don’t go back on what you said. “All I’ve got to look at are you folks all day,” you quip “A girl needs a change of scenery every once in a while.”

He crosses his arms, clearly not amused. “We not pretty enough for you?”

“Well, you are certainly, but I don’t know about Pearson.”

You purse your lips immediately and silently curse yourself at the admission. That same old shit-eating grin makes a comeback. “Is that right?”

You push his arm back, but unlike him, you hardly get the man to move more than half an inch. “Oh shut it.” You quickly un-hitch your horse and mount her. All you want to do is wipe his lips so it turns back into his usual frown, but you’re afraid you’d just embarrass yourself further. “I won’t be back for a while.” You pull your horse away and pat her on the side. “Didn’t know children’s birthday parties could take so damn long.”

“How long will you be gone for?” He mumbles, voice noticeably quieter.

“However long it takes for a fella to get me off.”

Arthur’s eyes widen. The sun highlights the tips of his ears go red. “Wha- What?” He strained out like he wasn’t quite sure of what he just heard.

A real, true laugh comes out of you then as you spur your horse into action, cantering away from camp. You don’t wait to hear the rest of what he has to say. His flushed look is enough of a prize to take with you.

You replay it all the way to Strawberry.

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

It was well past sundown when you return. Truthfully, you don’t even know what time it is, all you knew was that you were gone long enough that laying down on your cot would be much appreciated by your aching muscles. There’s a light breeze and you take your hat off, shaking out your hair.

The party was a success. Jerry and his granddaughter got to and from Strawberry safely, and really, that was all you could wish for when you were being hunted constantly because of the bounty on your head. You knew you offered, hell you were pretty self-approving when you did. But even then, you made sure to ask if Jerry really wanted a gunslinger as an escort, to which he replied, “Oh, shove it.”

Wonderful man.

The rest of the camp, well those that were here anyways, aside from Bill who was back on guard duty, are already fast asleep. The crackle of the fire is the only sound filling your ears other than your own footsteps.

There’s a small oil lamp turned on in the corner of your vision, brightening the blue hue and you instantly know the only bastard who would be up at this hour.

He’s drawing again. His brows are focused in that way you loved so much and he only looks up from his journal once you amble closer towards him. You almost hate that you’ve disrupted him. You could watch him draw for hours and hardly get bored.

He closes the book and looks up at you. You nod towards his hands. “You’ll have to show me what you’re working on at some point, Picasso.”

Arthur lets a huff through his nose. “Not gonna happen.” He motions you to sit beside him and you take him up on his offer. You catch a whiff of his scent, something like tobacco mixed with old leather. It may have been slightly repulsive to anyone else, but this was Arthur, and all it made you feel was safe. “You was gone a long time.” He points out, a bitter tinge to his voice. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

You tilt your head at him. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Arthur’s eyes narrow. “You just went off and didn’t come back until now.” The bitter tinge morphs into something like annoyance. “I was worried.” He mumbles low.

“Oh, I was fine.” You bump your shoulder against his, but it again, doesn’t make him sway. “Besides, I had a fella with me.”

His hand, the one closest to you, balls up at his side. He’s always been hard to read, but he clearly isn't happy at your revelation. You had half a mind in this late hour to stew in that fact. “Did you now?”

“Sure, one of them single fathers.” You let a small laugh escape you and shake your head, kicking the dirt with your worn-out boots. “Don’t worry, I’d never steal one from a married woman.”

“Was he…cute?” He mutters.

“Never thought I’d hear the word ‘cute’ come out of Arthur Morgan’s mouth.” You catch a glimpse towards him and again note the same pink twinge on his ears, probably embarrassed at being called out on something so stupid.

You finally start to feel that familiar flutter in your stomach hidden behind all that supportive “do what makes you happy nonsense”.

No, you couldn’t have that.

So, you bury it down.

It just became easier that way after all these years.

“That ain’t the damn point.” He continues to grumble. “Was he?”

You ponder the question for a short while. “I mean, he was alright in the looks department, not cute-“

He cuts you off quickly. “Just alright?” He scoffs lightly.

You remember the aforementioned single father in question. His looks are the last thing on your mind. He was alright, not cute, not ugly. Sure, you wouldn’t want to sleep with the man, but-

“He was damn good with his kid, and I thought I’d like to get to know someone like that more.” You reveal through a whisper.

This causes Arthur to frown, but his expression softens. Some of that constant bitterness fades away. “You- “he cuts off and thickly swallows. “You weren’t doing anything strange were you?”

You can feel a prickle of heat in your face at the question. “I mean, we talked sure, but if anything, I just maybe wanted to indulge in a fantasy.” You shrug.

He snaps his gaze back towards you. “A fantasy?”

“What it’d be like-“

God, why was it so hard to say?  “Being normal, having a family.”

The silence that follows is thick and you immediately scold yourself for ruining a perfectly airy conversation just like this morning. You regret it, you do, but you can’t deny how nice it is to finally get that dream off your chest. It wasn’t original, what woman at camp, save Mrs. Adler, didn’t want that stability?

The feeling of riding was freeing. It gave you the grace of flying during a time when you were being held down and that will never change. But nowadays, you find that instead of being held down, you want to be held close. To be called important, matter to someone, so that when you felt lost soaring, you’d always have a beacon home.

“Damn it, you can’t be sayin’ things like that.” He forces out a murmur, a shred of his usual gruff tone.

“You ever think about that?” You tread lightly. “Having kids? Building a farm out somewhere and just-“ a deep sigh escapes you. “living and not surviving?”

It takes him a while to answer your question.

“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t.” The vulnerability colors his voice and it starts to trip you over the edge.

You nod, pursing your lips. “With Mary?” You meekly ask, the crickets chirping making the exchange more awkward. You almost cringe at the silence of it all.

He tenses at her name and it seems like you get your answer.

“With Mary? I mean-“ He tries to dissuade you with absolutely no conviction in his voice. He pauses and curses under his breath. Arthur shakes his head, closing his eyes a moment. “Y’know, it ain’t always about Mary.”

You scoff in disbelief. “Arthur, it’s always been about Mary.” Sighing deeply, you bite your cheek at the acidic truth. “Even when you met Eliza, it was still about Mary.”

He’s taken aback by your statement and a subtle look of frustration overcomes his features. “No, it hasn’t.”

You want to say more, but your sardonic nature halts at his stoic reply. It’s like your heart stops, a coldness and a shrill wake your senses from the inside out. “What?” Your brain halts, all thought ceasing to exist except to process his next response. He tries to avoid eye contact, but you seek his gaze as you tilt your head sideways. “Arthur, what do you mean?” You repeat more sternly, begging to get a straight answer.

He throws you a stick of dynamite.

The smoke clears and all that’s left is the destruction that caters right in the center of your chest.

“What about you?” His voice is hoarse like this is the most difficult thing he’s ever had to squeeze out of his mouth. “What about when it became you?”

Ka-boom.

There’s no longer just a flutter in your stomach, there’s a whole damn circus, and it decides to release the butterflies you worked so hard to keep from their magical chest of caution.

You shake your head and your body goes rigid. You move away from him and stand abruptly as you place your hands on your hips. He’s quick to follow you on your feet.  A sarcastic laugh leaves your throat before you can stop yourself. “Arthur-“

“No, let me finish.” He steps in front of you and holds your shoulders square, turning your body towards him. Even in your bubbling anger, you hate the way your skin immediately melts under his touch. His eyes and actions are pleading for you to stay, so you let him speak, biting your tongue to keep yourself from interrupting. He stumbles over his words. “It’s been you for a long damn time.” He admits. “But I was, I don’t know-“You notice the light sheen of sweat gracing his forehead. “I was scared to say something.”

“If this is some dumb joke-“

“No!” He immediately denies like he’s appalled you would even think of it in that way. 

“Well,” you sneer “I’m sorry if I have a hard time believing that.” You remove his hands from your shoulders stiffly and start to trudge away back to your horse.

In the years you’d known him, Arthur had been a force, even more so when he was younger and reckless. He was stubborn as a mule and despite keeping the peace for the most part, there was a strut in his step when he walked because he knew he had the power to change that fact whenever he wanted and get away scotch-free. Arthur was arrogant in that way, always threatening people with a smirk or an edge to his voice.

But this is the first time you see him flinch and it happens to be at your curt words.

A lump catches in your throat, but you’re too annoyed to care, all but continuing the short distance back to the hitching posts. Arthur is hot on your tracks, not letting up one bit. Maybe Bill was overhearing, maybe one of the girls stirred awake. It didn’t matter, you couldn’t care less. You just wanted to get the hell away from here.

His catches up to you in no time, his strides much longer than yours. He steps in front of your path and when you make a move to step aside, he mirrors your actions. You click your tongue, glowering at him from beneath your lashes. “Look,” he starts “now I know you may not like me, but I-“

That gets your anger rising to incomparable heights. “Not like you?!” You practically shout out. Looking around, you remember where you are and it’s the only reason your voice lowers. “Arthur, I’ve liked you since the day I met you!”

His eyebrows pull together and his nose crinkles. Arthur’s face morphs into something like agitation from its previous confusion. “So, why all this attitude?”

You’re dejected. “Why all this attitude?” You softly hiss. “Why all this attitude when I’ve loved you for years and all I’ve heard about is Mary?”

Arthur winces. He steps back from you, recoiling like he’s just been shot by a sniper rifle.

Good, you think. He should feel like a right asshole.

“’Why all this attitude’ he says!” You giggle manically at the sheer ridiculousness of it all. “Where do I even start?” You begin to rant, hands back on your hips to give you some sort of anchor from sinking towards the ground.  “I don’t know Arthur, maybe it’s because while I’ve been here stewing in self-pity, you were always out seeing her.  Maybe, it’s because every time you were young, drunk, and broken, you’d come back whispering her name, mistaking her for me, and I was the one helping you pick up the pieces.”

Your heart was racing a million yards a minute, but you couldn’t stop now. All the hurt and sorry baggage poured out like molten lava, burning with years of intensity. “Or maybe-“ you point an index finger at him and snap sarcastically as if you’ve just discovered a newfound truth “Maybe, it was because I worked so damn hard to tell myself I wasn’t in love with you and you just-“ your voice breaks.

Arthur doesn’t interrupt you at any part of your monologuing. Just like usual, you can hardly decipher his emotions except notice the colour draining from his face.

“So, I’m sorry that I don’t believe you when you say It’s been me.” You continue. “You’ve given me no reason to believe otherwise.”

You sidestep him, not taking a single look back in fear of him seeing the tears threatening to spill from your eyes. You unhitch your horse, giving her a slight pat before mounting her again.

- - - - - - - - - - -

You don’t see or speak to Arthur for a few days after your argument.

You don’t have much energy to talk to anyone really.

So, you somehow end up back at a familiar field surrounded by evergreen trees and flowers. The crystalline water of the hot springs gleams in your eyes and a chill wind sends shivers up your spine.

You set up camp and stay a while. The serenity of the woods is welcomed. You don’t consider yourself the best hunter, but fishing didn’t require the same amount of dexterity. It's quiet, peaceful even. All you hear is the chirp of the birds and the steady flow of water.

It gives you time to cool off, reflect on everything that’s happened.

The more time you spend out here, the more hesitant you are to leave. It's a nice reprieve from the perils of civilization and you find yourself slipping away, trying to grasp a sense of comfort that's unimaginable for you most days.

Tends to happen when you're an outlaw, you suppose.

But one day, as you’re laying under the shade of a tree, feeling the blades of soft grass beneath you, you hear heavy footsteps starting to approach.

There's no need to bother even acting surprised.

Arthur takes a seat beside you with a deep sigh. He leans back, using his hands to support him.

The both of you are silent for a while, not one peep out of your mouths. You expect it to be uncomfortable but having him by your side brings an ease you haven’t felt in days. Arthur continues to stare up at the sun starting to descend in the horizon and you follow suit, eyes trained to the sky above.

“When I met you, I thought you were nothing more than a naïve, innocent little thing.” He starts, baritone drawl catching you off guard. You don’t realize how much you’d missed hearing it until now. “You were this small girl I needed to protect. “

 You glance towards him and notice the small smile now gracing his lips, his eyes glossed over like remembering memories from so very long ago. “You could barely ride a horse, hell, you could barely mount one.”

The genuine warmth in his voice continues to chip away any frustrations left within you as you recall those days like snapshots in your mind.

“Every day, it was something new with you.” He laughs out, making your heart traitorously skip a beat. “You were learning the ropes of it all, and for a while, you were just a ratty brat who wanted to try on boots that were too big for her.”  He pauses and you look at him more clearly this time, head turned towards him fully in an effort to really listen to what he has to say. “But Mary, she-“ he swallows “I could just turn my thoughts off with her.”

He gives out another sigh. “I loved her, I did.” He admits. “It was so easy loving her at the time. We had no expectations of one another, and then all of a sudden that shifted and I don’t know if I could have been the man she needed me to be.”

You ache but it’s not because he mentions his past lover’s name.

“So I ended up actin’ like a goddamn fool. Boozin’, sleeping around.” He groans, obviously not proud of his previous ventures. “Dutch and Hosea, they couldn’t pull me out of it. I mean, they tried everything, but then-“ He releases a relieved chuckle. “Some woman I’d never met before poured a bucket of cold water over my head and pulled out her revolver, threatening to shoot my dumb ass if I didn’t get up.”

You snort as you’re reminded of that day.

It was dry and humid, overall making it a miserable summer afternoon. Arthur stumbled back into camp smelling like he was doused in moonshine, groggy and slurring his words together. Even Hosea, forgiving as he was, cringed at his sorry state.

You just about had it.

After collecting some from the nearby stream, you pushed Arthur down and doused him in ice-cold water. He sputtered, clearly not happy about what you just did and attempted to get up to confront you. You pulled out your gun before he could and shot right between his legs onto the dirt below. “If you don’t pull your damn weight around here, I’ll make sure the next shot hits!” you shouted, utterly disappointed.

“Good times.” You mutter and Arthur’s smile widens.

“Sure.” He agreed. “When my eyes started to clear, I swear to god I thought I was looking at an angel.”

You had a hard time believing that too. “You looked at a woman who just shot at you and thought she was angelic?”

He tries to find better words. “I guess you looked ethereal all together.” He tries to explain. “Like you were something I’d see at the pearly white gates of judgement.”

You sat amused at his thoughts. “That so?”

He’s finally able to make eye contact with you and revels in that fact. “My vision was still a little hazy and you just stood over me, posture straight, hat on.” He takes his hand and scratches his chin. It’s a tick for when he’s nervous. “Your hair had a glow to it from the sun and your eyes, they just- had this fire in em’ I’d never seen before.”

His shoulders drop and the mood suddenly turns mellow. “When we were ridin’ around and ended up at this clearin’, you just took off without me and I realized how much you’d grown into yourself right under my nose. You didn’t change much, you were still the same old, sunshine, animal-lovin’ princess, but the way you carried yourself? Asserted yourself more?  God-.”

He holds your gaze as he continues and it’s like the world holds its breath for whatever he has to say next. “You rode off, hair wild, not looking back at me one bit and I just couldn’t stop starin’ at you because I thought you were such a damn sight.”

“It made me wonder-“ his words trail off. He stops for a while and you let him. You know how much courage it was taking him right now to admit this to you, letting down those guarded stone walls he loved so much.

You lick your lips, and in an act of your own bravery, you settle your hand on top of his, to which he visibly softens upon. “Made you wonder?” You urge.

“If that’s what Mary felt like, seeing me go all those times.” He finishes. “Because I hated it. I hated every time you got on that horse and left, and it would only hurt less whenever you came back.”

Arthur’s hand starts to clench, but you flip his hand in yours so you can interlock your fingers properly. You give his hand a squeeze and the tension eases off.

“But then I hear you wantin’ to go off with some man and all I could do was mope like a sorry idiot because what if-“ His throat works. “What if you rode off and didn’t come back this time?”

“Oh, Arthur.” You softly coo.

His hand starts to make small slow circles over your hands. “You know I realized something when I last saw Mary that I didn’t before.”

You’re expectant to hear what it is.

“Every time it got a little too rough between us, she was done with me.” He perceived. “I don’t blame her, she deserves someone to make her happy, but I wasn’t gonna change fast enough in her eyes.” He squeezes your hand tighter. “But you- you didn’t expect me to change on a dime. You were patient, you understood that I didn’t want to start a family not because I didn’t want to, but because I was afraid of feeling that pain again.”

After clenching his jaw, he takes his other palm and cups your cheek with the utmost tenderness a man of his size could muster. “With you, I feel like I can be something else, something good.” You lean towards his touch, begging that if this were a dream, you never wanted to be woken up. His gaze is soft on your features, highlighted by the starlight above.

“I fell in love with you a long time ago Arthur Morgan.” You confess. “I keep running away because no one holds me close enough to keep me somewhere.”

You feel a lump in your throat as you remember all the times you rode off wanting to hear him shout "Wait!", but he never did.

“I know and I’m sorry for that sweetheart, I really am.”

Tears start to escape your eyes and you don’t bother wiping them away. “Loving you hurt so much Arthur.” You whimper. “I started to pack all of those feelings away if it meant I didn’t have to ruin what we already had.”

He presses his rough lips to your forehead and leans back. “I know sweetheart, I’m sorry.” He tilts your chin up with a finger. “If I could go back and change the way I handled it all, I would.”

“Give me something to believe that this is real. That I’m not just making this up in my misery.”

Arthur takes a moment to look at you before he speaks. He takes the time to figure out how he’s supposed to approach what he wanted to convey “Close your eyes for just a second.” He mumbled, his voice pleading.

You don’t question it and do what he wants you to do. You fully accept you’d be one of those pathetic individuals who’d follow him off a cliff if it meant staying with him and keeping him safe.

In the darkness, you feel him pick up your hands and place them on his chest. Under your palms, you feel the fast thrum of the beat of his heart and the laboured way his chest rises. You stay like that for a few seconds and match your breathing to his.

“Okay,” his voice cuts through your thoughts “now open your eyes.” You follow his command and you open your eyes to Arthur with a tender expression. You feel his breathing get faster, like he’s almost waiting for a reaction.

You tilt your head. “What?”

Arthur chuckles quietly at your question. “This is me trying to prove I’m serious about you.” His hands are still around your wrists, keeping your palms on his chest in place.

“By what? Letting me feel you up?” You jokingly say. “Arthur, who do you think’s being lugging your heavy ass around when you’re drunk, cause it sure as hell ain’t Uncle-“

Even in the darkness that surrounded you, you can sense his embarrassment. He starts to sputter to quickly get words out “Wha- no, that’s not what- I- you-“ He stutters, clearly flustered at the comment. He sighs. “Now, that’s not what I meant and you know it, sweetheart.”

“So then, what?” You push. You’re not trying to be obtuse in any way, but you want to hear a proper answer.

Arthur swallows awkwardly. “I’m just- I want you to know that my heart beats for you.”

It puts you in such a complete state of shock, it renders you speechless.

Just a couple of days ago, you would have been thirsty to hear those words drip out of his lips, but now that you’ve actually heard him say it, you don’t know how to exactly respond.

“Sweetheart?” He calls, voice laced with worry.

You slowly lean down and press your ear against his chest, wrapping your arms around him. He smells like gun smoke and mountain air. The fast bu-dump of his heart is intoxicating, making you break out into a smile.

After a few seconds, he slowly places his own arms around you and pulls you in closer. His hold is firm. Secure. A bandwagon of bandits or federal agents could show up this instant and he wouldn’t let anything or anyone so much as even look at you the wrong way.

He tucks your head under his chin. “I can’t give you a house, or children, or land right now, but I want you to know you have my heart.” He places another soft kiss on your forehead. “You’ve had it for a long time and it’ll always be yours as long you’ll have me.”

“Well, I never thought Arthur Morgan was capable of such sweet words.” You tease.

You feel the rumble of his chest as he freely laughs. “Well, there’s a lot we don’t know about each other it seems.”

You give his statement some thought. “Maybe we can start to find those things about each other out.”

He nods against you. “I’d like that.”

You sniffle and follow him in letting out a laugh. “I’ll end up falling asleep here if we keep this up.”

He snickers at your comment. “I guess I’ll just have to carry you to bed then, huh?” He teases back, his tone light and playful.

You push away from his chest and fix your gaze directly at him, a dazed smile on your face. “I guess you’ll just have to, Arthur Morgan.”

His breathing hitches, obviously not expecting to be accepted on his offer. “Yeah, I suppose I will, sweetheart.”

You place a kiss squarely on his mouth and he reciprocates it almost immediately.

You grasp his face with your hands and do something you’ve been wanting to do since the day you met him.

His lips, though slightly chapped are soft and his stubble that he hasn’t shaved for weeks tickles your cheeks, poking you in a pleasurable way. You taste the tobacco on him and though you don’t smoke, maybe through kissing him you get the appeal. Fingers thread through your braid that’s falling apart by the second.

For the first time, you don't hold the butteflies back.

You part your lips to deepen the kiss and allow him to explore your mouth with his tongue.

It becomes hungry. Insatiable. It's years of pent up frustration and confusion exploding into a possession that consumes your whole body. He groans and you barely notice when he scoops you up, hooking his arm under your legs. “God, we could have been doing this earlier.” He growls.

As you giggle against his lips, Arthur continues to carry you, walking briskly towards your tent.

And the world around you stayed silent that night, except for a few hushed noises.

- - - - - - -

A/N: Yee-haw. Pls interact, I need to to talk to more RDR people lmao. pls.

[evilgwrl]

TF 141 x Reader (Apocalypse!AU)

Immune: Ten

WARNING: This is a 18+ Poly!141 series (MDNI)

CW: ANIMAL DEATH, gore, angst, kinda fluff at the end??? but very depressing chapter

Taglist: @echo9821 @beebeechaos @h3art3at3rr @johannxseb @cndy-l0v3 @nylluns @pomegranategum @tapioca-marzipan

Masterlist

GUYS I APOLOGISE THIS IS NOT AS GOOD AS I WANTED IT TO BE BUT IM HOPING TO FILL THE VOID WITH A SMUTTY NEXT CHAPTER </3

His vision was a stain of burnt umber, ropes of sepia blurring into blown pupils, eyes flushed with demand as he stared down at you. His cheeks were ample with a delicate rose hue, blonde lashes dipping into his skin every time he flickered down to your spread frame, your own lips flushed with the blush of the staggering movements between you two.

Silky webs of spit connected the two of you even when apart as exploring hands fed into the pillowy flesh of your thighs, groping at anything he could get a hand on. Your mind was fluttering, brain wracking with static as he felt over you, paying attention to every inch of delicate skin.

There was a harsh crack from the sky, a zip of thunder bellowing rage against quickly darkening sky as Daisy whinnied, trotting anxiously around her paddock, tail swishing as she bucked back and forth on her hooves. Cecil’s neigh sounded tortured as a strike of lighting broiled before zapping down into a patch of grass beside him, hind legs rearing as his body leapt over the lowest part of the fence.

You pulled away from Simon, a confused expression on your face as you pushed him aside, feet planted on the ground. Panic struck you as you noticed the lack of the stallion, a pained whine in the distance as you swore under your breath, burning legs scuffing against the dirt as you yanked open the gate, feet trampling onto Daisy in a rush as she bucked slightly.

Heavy feet kicked her hind as Ghost called out from behind you, the horse already trailing into the depths of the forest after the escapee. Bruises accompanied your skin as your legs slapped on the un-saddled horse, a wince leaving your lips at every stride Daisy galloped.

Trees succumbed to a blur as you whistled, mouth in a permanent ‘o’ as you called out for Cecil, a distressed huff leaving the mare as she darted between florae. The familiar crackle of tar sounded against her hooves as you reached the main road, your eyes clouded with desperation as you slowed down, frantically searching.

A scurry in the bushes alerted you as you listened to the sound of hooves scraping against the ground in the distance, a frantic neigh seeping into the wind as you hopped off Daisy, whistling for her to follow the road home as you sent her off, apprehensive feet trailing to the sound.

Fingers wrapped anxiously around a large rock as you ducked in between branches. The crackle of whines rode through the air, the disturbed tone of the horse’s pitch sending a surge of chills down your spine, paralysing you as you took in the sight.

Hot metallic rushed into your nostrils, pools of blood dribbling through an open wound, elongated talons of bone sticking out of the stallion’s leg as he let out a guttural whinny, eyes wide as his head slapped across the ground anxiously, teeth jutting with every agitated breath.

Your knees were weak, limbs slipping into a coma as you collided with the ground, your own flesh meeting the burn of twigs as you dragged yourself across the floor, a harsh sob sounding from you at the mangled, broken leg before you.

The horse was restless, snout slipping between inches of dirt as he attempted to rise, his weight fleeting to gravity as the sight of crumbled ivory dug into untouched skin.

“Fuck- I’ve got you, baby, I’ve got you,” you wept, hands resting against his muzzle as you attempted to comfort him, pure agony displayed through the shiver of his muscles, twitching under broken flesh, fur saturated in the stench of crimson.

Your eyes were wild, stray tears pooling at your cheeks as you stroked the animal before you, pure misery evident in brown eyes as he huffed. “I’ll be back, I’ll be back, ok? Mumma’s gonna help you.”

Your voice was frantic, the crack of heartache slipping into every syllable as your chest wracked. Your legs felt useless, skidding against the road, trickles of blood pooling down your broken flesh, batters of broken skin tingling with irritation as you paid no mine.

The vision of the house before you was stagnant, the blear sight connecting like puzzle pieces as you blinked, sliced corium staining the handle rails as you tripped inside, mangled body colliding with the floor as you struggled to stand. Soap stood up in confusion, taking in the flummoxed sight of you.

“Bon, what’s wrong?”

“I need a gun and the car keys.”

“What fo-“

“I need them now,” you screeched, throat pained with desiccation as you rubbed desperately at your cheeks, skids of blood flushing your skin as you let out a pained sob. The Scotsman was quick, hurrying you to the car as you slammed the door shut, the chug of the engine crying into a ruptured breeze, the sound of lighting barely monitoring through you as you drove, hot tears cascading into the mixture of ichor painted upon you.

Soap was in a flurry, calling out to Gaz, who had found Daisy whining out front, quickly securing her away. Ghost had attempted to trail after you when you bolted off but lost sight, instead fixing the broken fence that had caught on Cecil’s hoof.

The commotion from inside hicked in Price’s chest as he fled down the stairs, only missing you as he watched you leave.

“What the bloody fuck is going on?” the Captain huffed, eyes brushing against bushy brows.

“She came in, covered in blood, screaming for a gun and the car keys-“

“And you didn’t think to go with her?” Ghost spat, storming into the house.

“She wasn’t waiting for anyone- didn’t even shut the car door as she drove off-“

The road in front of you was a blur as you followed the sickly trail of blood that leaked through an opening in the bushes, the ignition still running as you hopped out. You clambered through the bushes, wincing as a branch snagged against your cheek.

The silence was deafening as you whined, pushing through a broken web before stumbling upon the severed horse in the distance. Your scream entangled in your mouth, trapped between your tonsils as you subsided to the forest floor, the grunts of the dead stampeding across the stallion’s body, hisses of torn flesh seeping with blood as its head buried into the thickness of crimson-coloured mud.

“Get off him,” was supposed to leave your throat, but nothing did. Your whine was agonising, scorching through the grounds around you as the carbon steel slipped from your fingers, your hands shoving at the zombies surrounding the corpse as you grabbed the rock you had dropped earlier, pummelling into the rotting skull of one.

The sickly scent of mould infiltrated you as you gagged, straddling the body of another as you thrashed down on it, the squelch of a blackening brain migrating into the crevices of the miniature boulder. Your lips were pulled back in a snarl as you kicked the final deformity from your horse, battered hands colliding with the brittle bones that supported a decayed cerebrum.

Your pummels were never-ending, the rock scraping into the dirt as the monster turned to mush, nothing but the crumble of perished organs left. Your wail was excruciating as you collapsed against the dead horse, his body mangled into a pile of broken flesh, wounds tethered against fur as his eyes rolled into a lifeless state.

The rain that followed was harsh, pooling around you in an infested state as you struggled to breathe, your lungs popping with turmoil as you bawled, thick hiccups catching in your throat.

Your body collapsed into a tender frame as you struggled, clambering to save the horse that was already dead. “L-Let me go,” you wept, as heavy arms only took you away. There was a soft rustle against your hair, fingers running through the locks of your hair to comfort you, the sound of a gunshot going off in the distance.

Your eyes were struck, by blank images of massacred limbs and stolen innocence coerced you to stay awake as you stared aimlessly down the road, your ears static as Ghost attempted to talk to you, his hands tucked around your waist.

You didn’t reply.

You were grief-stricken, barely able to make it up the stairs as you were undressed, wounds seeping across broken skin as you barely hissed when a rag was pressed against it. You were defunct, your eyes void of nothing as your lips folded into a thin line.

The bare warmth of the water did nothing for you as Price lifted you in. Unheard words passed through you as you watched him walk away, your head slipping under, and your eyes still open.

You didn’t want to close them. Not now, not again. It was a deadly compilation. Flickering images of the gruesome scene haunt you with every blink. The water had turned a murky pink, dirty liquid sloshing as hands scorned under your arms.

“Sweet’art, I need you to answer me. I need you to tell me if you swallowed any blood or flesh.”

You only blinked.

“Y/N, I’m serious,” Price snarled, prying open your mouth as you snapped him away.

“No.”

That was enough for him.

The rest of the night had turned to a soundtrack of haze, pushy hands bringing water to your lips as you shoved them away. Your knees were sticky with wet cotton and bandages, your palms stinging with the residue of alcohol. They all came in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead in an attempt to soothe you.

Simon was last, his hands resting against your cheeks as he pressed dry lips into the heat of your skin. You winced as you grabbed his wrist, broken eyes glancing up at him with strains of blood-shot veins.

"Will you stay?"

[uzurimisery]

bitter frost, honey i'm coming home. / logan howlett x reader / nsfw

warnings: MDNI, angst, p in v, mention of vomit, makeup sex, death (not character), thoughts of suicidal ideation, sappy emotional sex, old man cums quick, Logan yells at reader, smoking, knotting (not a/b/o)

wc: 9k

A/N: I do not know brevity. This was only meant to be 4k max

It’s cold on the ranch now. The first frost came barrelling through, ice crystals hanging on the barbed wire fences and freezing over the troughs out in the pasture. Days on the ranch start early, often before dawn, the first rays of light peeking over the crest of the mountains, painting it pink and golden. He’d step out into the crisp morning air and go to the barn, where he’d feed the animals. The chickens were too loud if he didn’t feed them first, the two roosters crowing till he did, so they went first. After the chickens, it was time for the two horses and the cows. After three years of doing it, he moved with practiced precision. Scattering hay, pouring oats, and spreading seeds are all mindless tasks. 

Logan had to venture out on Weston, a reliable but honorary son of a bitch, with an icebreaker to free up the water for the herd. Then, he had to head into the barns and ensure they weren’t frozen. He should pull out the heated troughs, kept convincing himself he’d do it next weekend 27 weekends ago, and now it was necessary. His back ached a bit at the thought. Pulling out all the equipment and placing it was a full day's job with just himself doing it. He was getting a fucking headache just thinking about it.

It’s not that he wasn’t strong enough. He was just old. He was far too old to run a ranch independently with so little help. Each winter felt a bit long as if there was too much work. Maybe he had grown lazier, too, over the years. No more fighting and not working at Xavier’s school; he was just living on the land now. Cattle ranching. Felt like an All-American cowboy when he had on wranglers, flannel, Justin boots, and some hat he had picked up at the tractor supply store a year back. The hat had seen better days, and the ridge was beaten up and dented from all the times he’d fold it in half and tuck it into his back pocket. He didn’t bother with a jacket, be far too warm that way. 

The ranch was quiet, save for the sound of cattle and horses. Now, the yellow pasture stretches out from the start of his property line on the road to near the base of the mountains. His little private valley. At first, the quiet made him anxious, like he was waiting for another catastrophe to come and tear it apart. That he’d wake up with someone trying to kill him, and all too often, he’d close his eyes and envision all the torture he’d been through—too much pain and suffering in his life. 

The quiet also gave him too much time to think about everything he’d done. Everything he’d lost. He was a man who had known mainly suffering for all his life. Sometimes, he felt he didn’t deserve this peace, this serenity. It was dissonant. He was a fighter, a soldier, a weapon made human to kill and kill and kill again until the only color he knew was red, the only scent he smelt iron, till the collar around his neck pulled so tight it’d break it.

His hands ached, claws threatening to come out as he worked himself up, the sting of vomit on his tongue. The back of his knuckles split open like they weren’t even there, like there was no skin or muscle for the adamantine to cut through. Like it didn’t hurt every time it did.

Weston whinnied under him, tired of lazily trotting around the barn to check for coyote marks. He wanted to gallop around the outskirts of the land while Logan sniffed out any danger to the herd. Didn’t need a cattle dog when he was a glorified one.

“Yeah yeah, asshole.” His spurs dig into Weston’s sides, urging the horse into a gallop. He might as well get the morning round done now. 

The horse broke into a gallop, bouncing Logan in the saddle, wind whipping him in the face. For a moment, the noise in his head quieted. There was no constant thought of you, just what he had to do after rounds. 

As they reached the fence line, Logan scanned the horizon, senses on high alert. He knew he was never looking for just coyotes or stray animals; he was always searching for something more. A threat that might never come. Some bullshit hopped-up mutant on a vendetta or some power-hungry human looking to use him.

Now, at a canter, the two patrolled the whole property line as he took deep breaths, inhaling the cold air, trying to focus on the present. On the life he had here. Not what he had left behind. But the past is never far behind, and he had so much past to run from. It would always be near him, lurking in the shadows. The ranch could never drown it out, cover it up, and make him forget. Maybe it was just another reminder he could never truly escape who he was, no matter how hard he tried. 

“Easy now,” he murmured, pulling Weston to a stop near the far edge of the property. He could see everything from here. It was beautiful and peaceful, but all he could feel was the weight of what he was missing. 

Sometimes, he swore he smelt your perfume on the breeze.

“Let’s head back.” Weston turned around, ready to run the way back toward the barn. This routine was the only thing that kept him sane. The work. The responsibilities. Barely enough to keep him busy but not enough to keep him from sinking too far into the darkness in his thoughts. 

He’d gotten lazy the past week and fallen behind on the hay maintenance, so he’d need to buck it today. Move it all from being covered under some tarps to the hay barn. Move them all one by one. He was glad that 150 pounds felt like nothing to him in times like that. 

The chicken coop also needed a roof repair. The last storm did a number on it. Logan bought the supplies the last time he was in town. It just meant stripping the old one off, resecuring the waterproof liner, and hammering the steel roof. Maybe he’d add some more insulation next weekend in preparation for the winter. 

Today was going to be a long one.

───※ ·❆· ※───

A knock on the door echoed in the ranch house, slicing through the quiet thrum of the fridge kicking on and the TV volume on low. He wasn’t expecting company as he stopped mid-swig of his beer, brow furrowed. The neighbors knew by now to leave him the hell alone and had enough run-ins to steer clear of him unless it was an emergency. There were no ranch hands due to arrive until next Monday. 

His boots thudded with heavy steps as he rose from the couch and walked over. The tips of his claws cut through his skin, the metallic ring soft as he reached the door.

He grabbed the handle, ready for it to be blown off the hinges by someone knocking it down.

“Logan, it’s me.” That's a voice he’d recognize anywhere, unmistakable and achingly familiar. The one he longed to hear to the point it drove him crazy. The one he dreamed of every night, of all the terrible things it had said to him because of what he’d done. Heard it in his sleep and his waking hour like a fucking ghost haunting him.

“Can you open the door already? I know you’re in there.”

He blinked as he did, trying to grapple with his emotions brought to light by the reality of you standing there. 

“What?”  his voice cracked. “What are you doing here?” 

You looked so sad, a deep sorrow in your eyes—the kind that had been there when the two of you had argued the night before he left. It made him feel like he missed something crucial like you had lost a part of yourself—one that settled deep in your bones and moved in your muscles and ligaments.

“Charles told me where you were.”

His throat felt painfully tight, as if the words were squeezing his neck. He didn’t expect this- hadn’t expected you to ever ask Xavier where he was and come see him.

Neither of you moved, the door half-open as he stood blocking it.

“You ain’t supposed to be here.”  His tone was gruff. He had been smoking more since coming to the ranch, trying to dull his brain.

Your voice was steady but filled with so much sadness it made him want to drop to his knees and beg for forgiveness. Plead with you to transgress his sins. Go to confession and tell all his wrongdoings. “I needed to see you again.”

He looked out into the driveway, seeing nothing but emptiness.

“Did you fly over here? You don’t even have your suit on.”

“It’s fine,” you said with a shrug, “it’s dark out anyways.” 

He stared at you. The porch lights set a soft, warm glow on your skin, the panes of your face made clear. You looked beautiful, mesmerizingly so, as you stared up at him.

“You gonna let me in or not?” 

“Don’t get comfortable,” he grumbled, his tone softer now that you were closer. He opened the door wider, letting you walk past him.

He had the fire going, for which you were grateful. Flying without your suit always left you frigid afterward, especially since Logan had taken to living in the middle of nowhere nestled in the Rocky Mountains. You had always been jealous Storm didn’t have to deal with that. 

The ranch house Logan was living in was quaint. It was a three-bedroom, two-story house built in the 1880s that the previous owners renovated in recent years to feature modern amenities. The floors creaked as you walked, clearly still the original hardwood. He hadn’t done much decorating. It was clear that Charles had been the one to decorate the place for him.

He wasn’t ready to see you. Ready to talk about why he left you in the middle of the night four years ago. 

You quickly found your way into the living and dining room. Logan had left pocket doors open in these two separate rooms. Sitting on the couch, you could see through to the kitchen. A large pot was on the gas stove, the flames flickering on low. It smelled like beef stew.

Logan lingered by the entrance to the living room off of the entry space, unsure of what to do next. Watching you settle into the beat-up couch made him feel a mess of relief and anxiety. He was glad to see you were okay. Your hair was shorter, and you must have cut it after he left at some point. Grey hairs were coming through at your temples. 

“It’s, uh, good to see you.” Having his eyes on you like this made you feel small again. Like he was leaving you all over again.

Logan nodded, swallowing hard. “You too.” 

You smiled at him, and it hurt. Cut him like a thousand glass pieces over and over again. He was getting sandblasted and healing through it. 

He walked into the kitchen, trying to distance himself from you and his feelings, and stirred the stew. “I wasn’t expecting company,” he commented his back to you.

Your hands wrung together automatically, anxiety creeping up your throat. Maybe it was a mistake to come here and see him again when he had made it clear that he wanted nothing to do to you the night he left. “It’s fine, I don’t need to eat.” 

The wooden spoon clatters against the rest, and he puts it down harshly, making you wince. “Nonsense. I can hear your fucking teeth chattering from here.”

“I’m fine, really. It's just wind chill.” 

“Just take the damn food!” Logan bellowed, his hand slamming down against the counter, breathing heavily. “Just take the damn food.” 

You were silent for a moment, reeling. He’d never been like this with you before. “Okay.”

Logan closed his eyes, took a deep breath through his nose, and pushed it out of his mouth, trying to steady himself. He didn’t mean to lash out at you, to snap, but just seeing you again put him in confrontation with his past and his own feelings. It was more than he could handle. He grabbed a second bowl from the cabinet, ladling the stew between the both of them. Even after all this time, he took care to give you more potatoes than beef and half his carrots.

“Come sit at the table. Don’t want soup on the damn couch.” 

You moved quietly, always did. It unnerved him when he first met you. Your mutation lets you float more than walk and never hear any footfall when you move. He sat across from you, and you could finally get a good look at him. The years had never been kind to him, but he seemed older now than ever. The past three had been the worst of his life. Dark circles hung under his eyes, and the wrinkles on his face seemed more pronounced. 

The silence between you was thick with unspoken words, cut only by the scrapping of metal spoons against ceramic bowls. The sound echoed in the quiet house with the TV now shut off.

As you finished up your food, he looked antsy. His left leg bounced up and down, hand strumming on the table.

“Thank you for the stew.” you pipped up, breaking the silence. 

“Yeah, well, you look like you needed it. " Despite all these years, he still cared for you and loved you. It was evident to you. 

You both sat there momentarily, the silence returning but now filled with different tension. The possibility of reconciliation hurts more than anger.

“Why did you come here?” he puzzled. “After all this time, why now?”

You tapped against the bowl, inconsistent drumming on the sharp ceramic cutting against his ears. “I needed to see you.”

“Bullshit, what do you want”

“Jesus, Logan,’ you finally snapped, lightning crackling as you did. He acted like the wounded party when he was the one who had left you. “Am I not allowed to want to see you?” 

You didn’t mean for it to happen. Far past the age that your powers slipping up due to your emotions should be embarrassing. Static electricity builds up around you.

“You left,” you continued, to reel in your emotions, to keep them in check. “You left me without a word, without an explanation, and now you’re demanding an answer as to why I'm here? Do you have any idea what you did to me?” 

He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling as he looked to the side. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t have this conversation with you. Not now. The night he left, you felt like he was ripping out his own heart, running from his feelings and the truth about the world around him.

It was like he was on autopilot as he stood from the table, knocking his chair off balance as he went. Like a bull in a china shop, that’s how he moved. He could hear you talking and feel the vibrations in the air, but none of the words meant anything. You were begging him to just sit down and talk to you, a pleading whine in your tone. 

But he couldn’t.

Just like the last time he saw you, he walked out the door with nothing but the clothes on his back into the night down the porch steps. 

The screen door slammed shut as you walked out after him, your body trembling with the intensity of your emotions, your hair standing on end from the static. He never told you what was wrong or why he did what he did. He just left. Tears blur your vision as your back hits the siding of the house, sinking down.

“Logan!” you yelled, calling out after him, voice breaking. “Please just talk to me!”

He didn’t turn around. His figure grew smaller, illuminated by the porch lights flickering from your lack of control. It felt like your heart was breaking again. The ache of his absence, familiar and painful, made all the more unbearable by seeing him again. 

───※ ·❆· ※───

“I’m staying here till you talk to me.” 

When he finally came back to the house, knowing all too damn well, he had to take care of the ranch, that was the first thing you told him. He didn’t like it but found it hard to argue with you and Charles. It was impossible to change Charles’ mind; he knew you were too stubborn to leave. So he let it happen. 

Letting you sleep in the guest bedroom across from his was easier. It felt like he slept better since you had shown up. Even if you woke him up in the middle of the night, the floorboards creaking in protest under your weight as you went pee around 4:15 a.m. every night.

He’d lie in his bed, now fully aware of the space in it next to him, listening to the sounds of the house. The gentle rise and fall of your breathing, the ticking of the clock downstairs, the wind outside. He would never admit it, but you being there gave him a sense of peace he hadn’t felt in years. The night terrors that plagued him endlessly seemed to ease. For the first time in a long time, he could close his eyes without fear of being swallowed up and spit out by the past. 

During the day, you had a tentative routine with him, and he woke up earlier than you did. It had only been a week since you had shown up. You had left at one point to fly back to the school and get some of your belongings. Every morning, you’d go out to the chicken coop, collect the eggs, and make breakfast. It was nothing fancy, some variation of a bread product, eggs, and a protein. Sometimes, it was pancakes, bacon, and eggs. Other times, it was steak and eggs. Today, it was omelets. 

You’d help out in other ways, too. Go out and move the steer to a different part of their sectioned-off pasture. You were faster at de-ice the troughs, flying, and whatnot, so he let you take over that job. It was hard work, and your muscles ached like they hadn’t for a long time. 

Logan had to admit it’s helpful having you on the ranch. He’s got a greenhouse and some therapy project Charles talked him into, but that’s been looking worse for wear. The weather pattern changed the past couple of weeks, and there’s been an inversion that has left the valley with no direct sunlight. All the plants inside had started to wilt and were on the path to dying, not that he cared. He’d survive without some tomatoes. Then you threw open the door, solar energy pouring out from your palms, and they’d perk right up. You had that effect on plants, hell, people too. 

Something about you, even if you didn’t have your mutation, would have made you shine as bright as the fucking sun to anyone. All wild curls and big smiles, a helping hand to those in need—just one of those people who made the world a better place by breathing. You always said you were just doing your part, but god, there was so much good, so much sweetness in you. If he took a bite, he’d even get a cavity. Seeing you wrapped up in an old wool sweater of his, bent over coaxing a plant back to life, made him feel so ashamed of himself. 

“The plants in the greenhouse look a lot better this week.” 

Some of the leaves crunched underfoot, but most of them were soggy in the mud as you walked over to the steer barn where he was working. One of the steers had a rock impacting his back hoof, and he had to get it out. Logan had just finished spraying it with salicylic acid and wrapping it as you walked in. 

“Like I said, you don’t need to be doing all that.” He grumbled, standing from the stool and leading the cow back to the enclosure. 

Where he spoke dissent and anger, you heard what he really felt. Fear. He was still that little boy in his father's manor.

“It’s not a problem.”

It hurts to be this close to him and not have him, to know that things could just be better if he were honest. 

You'd cook him dinner in the evening, sit at the old wooden table, and comment about the school. About what you’d been up to. You steered away from the elephant in the room. It was best to talk about the mundane things. Sometimes, you’d slip and tell him something more personal than you meant to. He didn’t add much to the conversation because he hadn’t been doing much since leaving you, but he’d chime in about the animals. About the fox that kept creeping around the chicken coop.

Logan still had moments of withdrawal, times when he’d just disappear from the ranch, and you wouldn’t see him till the morning. It was hard on you, a reminder of just how much had changed between the two of you. You used to come home to him after a day of teaching and collapse into his arms on the couch. He’d offer you a sip of his beer, something dark and hoppy, and you’d taste it and declare it’s gross. Logan had told you one day, he’d find a beer you liked, and he’d stock the fridge with it. The closest you’d gotten was some Mangocart IPA that he told you was meant for 17-year-olds, and you told him to go fuck himself. 

Healing wasn’t a straight path forward. And healing couldn’t start until you cut out the festering parts. You can never go backward, but you must go forward while looking at the past. 

The two of you sat on the porch tonight, twilight hues, deep indigo taking over the sky, and the stars coming out. The first night you were out here with him, you couldn’t stop staring at them. Had a whole thing about them since they charged up your mutation, but he just thought you looked gorgeous. Older but still gorgeous. 

That was another thing that scared him. You are aging. He didn’t know how long he had left to live, hell, if he could even die. Some wounds should have killed him many times over, but they never did. They never do. But he's seen you bleeding out and broken after a fight with Magneto, a laceration so severe you had to self-cauterize the wound on the spot and passed out multiple times while doing so. You were getting older, and he was staying the same. 

You were 24 when the two of you first met. Your parents were good folks, never held any bias towards mutants, and helped you learn to control your powers and keep yourself hidden from the government when they were still rounding up mutants. The only reason you got found out was because of Cerebro and Charles. With so little training, it should have scared him how strong you were back then. A few years with Charles, and you were deadly. Deadly, but a pacifist. 

The air was cold. You could see your breath as you rocked in the rocking chair he had out there. Wafts of pungent tobacco hit your nose as he lit up a cigar. He had stopped when you lived together. You looked over at him, feeling the weight of his eyes on you. As soon as your own met his, he looked back out into the night sky. The silence was heavy.

“Do you ever miss it?” you asked softly. 

“Miss what?” he drew another drag from his cigar.

“The school. The kids. The…purpose.”

“I think about the students daily. It was good work. Important work. But…” Logan trailed off, searching for the right words. What were the right words to say without telling you everything? “It got complicated.”

You nodded, understanding the unspoken part of his statement, drawing your knees to your chest. “It’s still important. And the kids still need you.” 

After all this time, you still wanted him. Despite every wrong he had done to you and all the harm he caused you. The most pathetic part of him was ready to take your kindness, love, and care and bathe in it. Draw you back into the bottomless pit of his life and ruin you like he had all the others. 

You saw him clench his jaw. A twisting wave of guilt and self-loathing ate him up. A man made to destroy and he was afraid to destroy you too.

“The kids will be fine without me.” 

“You don’t know that.”

“Well, they’ve been fine without me so far.” He shot back, but there was a hollow note in his voice. There wasn’t any gumption behind it. 

“They’ve managed, but that doesn’t mean they’re fine. You gave them something no one else could, Logan.  They relied on you, they needed you-they need you.” You corrected gently, reaching out to touch his thigh. He was always so warm.

He took another drag, blowing the smoke away from you. “They’ll move on. They’re better off without me.” 

“They didn’t move on, and they aren't okay without you.” 

Logan looked down at your hand on his thigh, his expression a mixture of pain and something else. Something so soft, buried deep beneath the layers of hardened exterior. He didn’t pull away, but you could see his temptation rising.

“I’m not me without you, Logan. Please just talk to me.” Your grip tightened, the denim rough under your fingers, and you begged him to let you in again. To tell you why he left you, why you haven't heard from him since.

He needed to keep you safe from himself.

“You should leave.” Standing from his chair, he threw open the screen door, letting it slam shut behind him as he walked over to the living room. 

You rose after him, chasing him into the house, your heart pounding in your chest. The floorboards cracked up the both of you, echoing in the house. He moved with a desperate, frantic everything. His broad shoulders tense as if he could outrun the conversation you were about to have.

“Why won’t you let me care about you!” You cried out, voice breaking, trembling with the weight of the emotions you've been holding back. He didn’t stop, didn’t turn around, but kept going, and your words spilled out like a damn bursting.  “I am begging you to let me in, to let me love you, to stop pushing me away like you do every time! You left me. In the middle of the night, you left. I woke up, and you were gone. And all I have ever asked of you is to let me love you.”

From behind, he looked like a man barely holding together as he reached the living room.

“I don’t want you to.” he ground out. Each word hurt to say, and he hated lying to you. 

“We both know that's a lie, Logan. I’m not stupid. I know you love me. Just please let me in. Why won't you let me in?” 

“Because I don’t want you to wind up fucking dead!” His voice reverberated off the walls. “Everyone and everything I have ever loved is buried six feet fucking deep, and I don’t want you to join the shithole graveyard that is my life.” 

Logan’s voice cut deep through the room, his shoulder hunched as he leaned over the back of the couch. The sob was settling in his chest as he tried to keep it at bay. He didn’t want you to see him crying. It was like he could see you now, lying in that grave, another name added to the long list of people he’d killed or gotten killed.

“You think leaving me is protecting me? You think that by pushing me away, you're saving me?” You hated being an angry crier, the tears welling in your eyes. “I’m already in this. I’ve been in this for years. You leaving didn’t save me—it fucking broke me.”

“I just,” his breath was shaky, knuckles white against the couch as the wood splintered from his grip. “I can’t lose you too.” 

You stepped closer, a hesitant hand hanging in the air a moment before it made contact. Slipping over his back, meeting your other hand in the front as you hugged him from behind. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” you whispered, voice soft and thick with sadness. “I’m right here, and I’m not leaving. I’m not letting you leave this time.” 

He shook his head, tilting it backward to keep the tears from falling. “You don’t understand. I keep telling you that I’m cursed, that everyone who gets close to me, everyone that I love,” the crack in his voice hurt you, “ends up dead. And I can’t let that happen to you.” 

“You’re not cursed,” you mumbled into his back. “You’ve been through hell, but you deserve a chance at happiness and love.” 

His shoulders shook as the sob he had been holding back finally broke free. He crumples against the back of the couch, wrenching at his waist as his head meets his hands. You went down with him, following the curve of his back with your front, holding him tightly as he cried. 

“I’m here,” you cooed into his ear, your tears cresting down your cheeks. “I’m here, baby.” 

“I don’t deserve you.” he choked out between sobs. 

You tightened your hold on him, wishing that the pressure could soothe his aches and worries and make him feel whole again. That it would wash away all the suffering he’s been through and wipe it from his mind, even if you knew that pain was part of what made him him. 

“Yes, you do. You deserve love and happiness and to find that with me.” 

“I’m just going to hurt you again, like I have before.”

“You’re not gonna hurt me-”

“God dammit, I’ve killed people,” he stood up straight to face you, his voice jumping in volume, shaking you off balance. As you stumbled, he reached out, a hand on your hip to steady you. “I’ve killed so many people that it’d take them years to find all the bodies that I’ve fucking piled up in my 230 years of life. I am a fucking mess of a man who is so goddamn broken, and I don’t want to drag you down in the mess that I have made.”

He swallowed hard, his eyes darting around your face as he did. His beard was grown out, the greys now outnumbered the black, jaw trembling as he spoke. 

“And just when I think I can start to be okay without you in my life, you show up, doll, and it ruins all that progress I made, if I even fucking made any in the first place. Make me realize just how damn much I need you. And how much I am so fucking scared of losing you because I can’t take it if I do.”

You reached up, hand cupping his face against the scruff of his beard. “I know that I’ve always known the life you lived before meeting Charles, and it doesn’t scare me. What scares me is the thought of you shutting me out and living out here on your own till you die. You’re not this terrible monster you think you are. Yes, you’ve done terrible things, but you’ve also done so much good in the world. You’ve saved just as many lives as you’ve taken.”

His eyes softened, tongue darting out to wet dry lips that stuck to his teeth. 

“I can’t change who I am. I can’t be someone you deserve.” 

“I’m not asking you to change.” 

His other hand met your hip, both of them squeezing them tightly as his body shook. “I can’t lose you.”

“You won’t,” you promised. It was easy to promise that to him. As much as he needed you, you needed him. “You and me, we’ll get through this, and all that's to come.” You wrapped your arms around his neck. 

For a long while, he just stared at you, listening to your heartbeat, his eyes searching yours, looking for any doubt or lie in what you said. Fearful you’d sweep the rug out from under him and leave. He couldn’t find any indication of the sort. All he could see was how much you loved him, how much the distance between you had hurt, and how badly you wanted him to let you in.

Logan let out a shaky breath before pulling you into a kiss. His facial hair tickled your face as your lips met. It was intense as his lips moved against yours, his hands sliding down to your ass to pick you up and hold you. You could feel all his longing, desperation, and the despair he had been holding back. His lips were chapped from working outside, not caring for for himself like he should be, but you didn’t mind.

It sent a shiver down your spine, having him so close after so long. He was so warm against you. Your hands slid up to tangle in his hair, pulling him closer. Logan groaned as you did, parting his mouth enough that your tongue could meet his. 

The kiss deepened. You could taste the salt of his tears mingling with your own. His grip on your ass tightened, pulling you flush against his body like he was afraid you might disappear. His mouth moved hungrily against your own tongue, nearly forcing yours into submission as he held you close.  He felt like a man starved. 

You matched his intensity, trying to pour all your love and care into the kiss, your lips moving together in a way that felt both familiar and new. Hoping that enough of your love could spill into his cup and fill him so full it didn’t matter what spilled out his cracks. There’d be more poured in every second. A rediscovery of what the love between the two of you had been. 

The two of you have to part far sooner than he liked, your lung capacity smaller than his own. His eyes were still wet with tears as he watched you, your chest rising and falling as you gulped down the air. 

He leaned in towards you, placing a small kiss on your forehead as he rested his head against your own, moving your ass to rest against the back of the couch. You had changed your conditioner; it smelled like honey now, but no matter how fragrant it was, it couldn’t cut through the smell of you to him. You smelled like home. 

“I’m sorry, doll.” his voice was a murmur against your scalp, heavy with regret. If hammer home the point, he’d bend nail after nail into soft wood, splitting it down the middle with how much metal he’d drive into it, just how sorry he was.

“I forgive you.”

Somehow, he gripped you tighter.“I’ll make it up to you, I swear.”

“I know you will.” you pulled away from your position tucked against his chest to look up at him. “Kiss me again?”

He compiled without hesitation, his lips finding yours so tenderly. It was slow, deliberate, a melting of his body with yours. A promise, shared understanding, a soul tie that bound the two of you together.

Pulling away, his eyes met yours, and all he could see was love. 

“You gonna take me to bed or what, big boy?” 

Logan moved quickly up the stairs, taking two of them at a time. The promise of having you again was all the incentive he needed. He missed you. The way you felt under him, the way your pussy felt against his dick. How you fluttered around him every time he angled just right, how you smelt. He'd been jacking off to the thought of you for years now, and finally getting to have you again was like a fevered dream.

It wasn’t graceful the way he swung open his door and tossed you on the bed. You bounced a few times, mattress springs creaking as you did, before propping yourself up with an eyebrow raised, questioning him. No doubt he’d never hear the end of it; could hear you nagging him now. “A spring mattress? Logan? You’re made of metal. You can't have a spring mattress. You know this.” 

You raised a finger, curling in towards yourself, beckoning him closer. He was a dog on a leash for you, moving like a well-trained animal. If they’d found you during Project K, he would have listened to every command they gave. Hell, he’d roll over right now if you told him to. 

His knees enclosed your legs as he crawled over you, dog tags slipping out from his white tank top and dangling in your face. You smelled like him. His body wash and house, mixed with your fruit conditioner. Underneath it all, he could just smell you. The salt on your skin, the heady scent of your arousal. Logan lowered himself, tucking his head into your neck, and took a deep breath, groaning at the smell of you.

“Need you logan.”

That was something he’d missed. That pitched whine in the back of your throat you got when you were all horny and needy for him. Your voice turned raspy and low, caressed his ears so smoothly, and it made him want to purr like a fucking cat. The cadence just scratched an itch in his skull, setting his nerves on fire. 

With a low growl, he cradled your face in his hands, thumbs tracing over your cheekbones, relishing the heat coming off your skin. The little bumps and scars that crossed your skin felt like home to him, a map he’d always know how to read no matter how many years passed. He leaned in, lips meeting yours, and it just felt right. It always felt right. He was stupid for trying to run from you all this time. 

Your fingers laced in his hair on the nape of his neck, fingernails scraping his scalp. He groaned low,  wanton, animalistic, your tongue meeting his own in a warm, wet dance. Logan devoured your lips, his hunger for you impossible to sate. It was messy, desperate, the way he clung to you. Grabbing your waist and lifting you closer to him, you felt like a feather to him, all soft flesh and curves against his hard angles. 

He pulled away from the kiss, moving along your jawline and neck, stubble brushing your skin, making it more sensitive than it already was. Not stopping at your neck, he continued down over your collarbones and the expanse of your chest, all the skin he could access in the v-neck you wore. His fingers tugged at the hem of your sweater, pulling it over your head. You weren’t wearing a bra, perfect fucking nipples already perking up for him.

Logan leaned forward, his lips closing around your nipple. You gasped, back arching off the bed, the cool metal of his dog tags stinging against your skin. His tongue swirled around your nipple, fingers digging in at your waist before he pulled away with a pop, your chest heaving. You always looked so beautiful coming under him, over him, beside him, any position in which your naked body was near his and your flesh met in sinful desire.

“Oh,” his voice was ragged like he had fought all his battles and wars at once. “Oh god, doll…”

Testament and faith could be read about in books and studied. The Bible could teach you of Jesus’ preaching, but true faith, true trust in the unknown, could never be read about. It had to be felt and experienced. Logan slid to his knees, pulling your hips to the edge of the bed as he went. The fabric of your leggings felt too thick, separating him from his worship. He could smell you through them, through the lace of your panties. Heady, musky, a whine rumbles through his chest as his face falls against your thigh, nose pressed against the fast of your pussy. He breathes in deep, savoring your scent, his mouth watering like he can taste you.

“Doll, please,” he begged, opening his bloodshot eyes, his voice needy. “Let me taste you?” 

“You don't have to ask, Logan,” you replied, smiling. “I’m yours, always yours.” 

Logan hooked his finger into the waistband of your legging and panties, tugging them down in one swift motion. The cold air of the room met your skin as he did, but you didn't have long to think about it as he parted your legs, and his hot breath made contact with your pussy. His mouth hovered above for a moment, just wafting in your scent, his eyes fluttering closed. 

“Fucking love the smell of this pussy.” he murmured to himself, a low growl, before he dove in, tongue parting your folds.

Wet muscle slid between you so easily before swirling around your sensitive clit, teasing it. His hot breath ghosted over your skin, sending shivers down your spine. Your fingers flew to his head, trying to find purchase in his hair as he went. Logan was ferocious. He went from your clit to your hole, delving inside you, trying to taste every inch of you. He grabbed your hips, tilting them upwards, making you squeal as he opened his mouth wider on you. Working himself into a frenzy, growling, the vibrations amplified by his adamantium skeleton. It rumbled through you, low and deep, like the base setting of a vibrator.

He takes a second, not quite remembering the perfect rhythm for you right away, but he gets to it quickly. Starts playing with your pussy like a fine-tuned machine the way he has you gushing in minutes. Your wetness coats his tongue, and that engine is firing.

Each stroke, each flick of his tongue on your clit brought you closer to ecstasy. The stars might power you, but he’d have you see them tonight. He devours your pussy like a man starved, primal hunger driving him. You couldn’t fight back, not that you wanted to. All that you could do was let him keep going. Let him take you to the edge. Push you past it. Over it. Your breath hitches, heart pounding in your chest so hard you feel it in your temples.

You push his head back, abdomen muscles flexing, a thick line of spit and arousal connecting Logan’s mouth to your pussy. His pupils were blown wide, eyes unfocused, hungry. A red, ruddy color spread across his cheeks. He felt hard enough to cut steel with his length, rutting against the bed. They move on their own accord, desperate for friction. There’s a growing wet spot of precum at the front of his darkening blue jeans.

“Cum for me, doll, please, I need to taste it.” That low vibration of his voice made you whine, hips bucking against him.

Logan spread his tongue flat and mercilessly kept going at your clit. Your moans grew louder, fingernails digging into his scalp as he manhandled you around like you weighed nothing. He gripped your hips tighter, tilting them further, ensuring he had better access to your pussy, before taking your clit in his mouth and sucking on it. An involuntary squeal came out of you as the added pressure made your back arch. 

The suction made your stomach drop, and your toes curl. He kept swiping his tongue side to side, little pulses of suction in time. It left you writhing and gasping. One of his hands released your hips, moving so that he could slip two fingers into your wet hole. You were so soaked he met no resistance, walls clenching around his digits as he slid them in, desperate for something to clamp down on. The pads of his fingers brush against your G-spot, and the lights of the room glow brighter as you begin to lose control. You’re so close so quickly it feels like you can’t breathe from how overstimulating it was. 

You push his head back, abdomen muscles flexing, a thick line of spit and arousal connecting Logan’s mouth to your pussy. His pupils were blown wide, eyes unfocused, hungry. A red, ruddy color spread across his cheeks. He felt hard enough to cut steel with his length, rutting against the bed. Your vision blurred, light filling your eyes, your only point of focus in the world, his mouth on your sensitive pussy.

“Taste so goddamn good,” he licked his lips, breaking the strand before diving back in. Your legs shook, thighs clamping down around his ears. You were so close, you could taste it. Logan picked up the pace, his tongue rapidly flicking over your clit, pumping his fingers in and out of your fluttering hole. 

The room was filled with sloppy, wet sounds of Logans eating you out mixed with your cries of pleasure. He presses your pussy harder against his face, moaning as he does. You clench around him, body drawing tight like a bow as your release nears, his fangs scrape on the fat of your pussy lips.  It's like you leave your body for a minute, your ears ringing and your heart pumping. Every nerve in your body is lit up.

Logan reaches up to grope at your breasts, and with a pinch of your nipple, you cum with a loud moan that startles the cows, the lightbulbs exploding as you do. Your body trembles and shakes, juices gushing onto his palette like a tall glass of iced tea after a long day of work during the summer, and his thirst is quenched, but his appetite is only hungrier. You felt like you were melting, pleasure pouring out of you.

“Fuck,” you sound winded, “I haven’t had that happen since I was 24.” Your smile shows crow's feet, crinkling comforts near the sides of your eyes as you smile, really smile at him for the first time this week.

“Getting old, kid.”

“Oh, shut up!” 

He ducks to the side to dodge the pillow you throw his way. 

“You want to keep going?” 

“With you, I don’t ever want to stop.”

His eyes go all soft at the corners, caught up in his feelings. “Promise you won’t ever have to again.” 

“Good.”

He picks you up and places you up on the center of the bed, grabbing the pillow you threw at him to place under your hips for support. His clothes come off, and his blue Wrangler jeans drop to the floor with his tank top and boxer briefs. The dog tags stay on. He knows you’ve got a thing for them.  They glint in the dim light, steel catching your eye.

Rough, calloused hands slide up your legs, starting at your ankles, and he kneels between your legs on the bed. He folds you nearly in half, hooking your knees over his shoulders, his hip meeting yours. You feel the curling wisps of his pubes tickle against the back of your thighs. Always been a hairy guy, told you it's how he was so warm all the time. It makes your stomach flutter.

Logan leans down, capturing your lips against his own in a kiss before lining up his pre-cum soaked tip with your entrance. He eases into you with a hiss, your walls squeezing him tightly. The length was never an issue, he was only about an inch and a half above average, but it was the girth that made your jaw go slack and droll pool out the sides as he fucked you. The stretch is delicious as he slides inside you.

The first inch yielded a slick gushing sound from your pussy, while the second made you gasp, and the third had your walls tighten around him, taking his and your breath away. The stretch felt so good with how fat of a cock he had. One that felt so much girthier than you’d ever imagine it to be. His cock twitched, heavy, inside you, his pulse beating in time with yous.

“Jesus, princess, you’re squeezing me so tight. Relax,” he rolled his hip about halfway in and still meeting resistance.  Relax.” It came out like a pant. Fuck you were so tighter, like a vice around him. He wanted to take it slow, cherish you, show you how much he’d been missing you, but he was an old dog, and he wouldn’t last that long with how bad you were squeezing him. 

Your hands gripped the sheets, nails cutting the threadbare cheap cotton ones he’d been using for all these years. “Too much Logan.” You could barely breathe, let alone get the words out.

“You can take it, doll, remember?” he groaned, finally sliding in, flesh meeting yours in a wet slap. Your poor little hole stretched to the max as you whimpered. “See? You can take it.” Logan emphasized each word with a thrust of his hips. 

He felt his control slipping, thrusts starting to pick up, super strength coming into play. It coiled deep in his belly as he buried himself to the hilt inside you. “Feel so fucking good. Oh fuck. You’re so perfect, perfect little pussy.”

Logan’s hands move to grab your breasts, pushing them together. He plays with your nipples, rolling them between his thumb and index finger. His pace is brutal, and the position allows him to hit that perfect spot on your gummy walls that has you seeing stars. He’s all grunts and whimpers, silver tips eclipsing the skin of his knuckles. It gets to the point he wants to go faster, the need to cum inside you far too great, and he lets go of your tits and balances himself on the bed. 

The base of his cock swelled, his knot beginning to grow. This was the part you missed the most. The way he’d stretch you out so good on his dick, only to then slip his knot inside you and stretch you even further. 

“Ain’t gonna last much longer, doll.” 

You moan, reaching down to play with your messy clit. It’s so wet between your legs it’s hard to find any purchase, and the sensitive nub slides back and forth so easily. The bed creaks, the wood floors groan, and the bed frame slams against the wall. He’s getting rougher by the second, his knot starting to press against you. 

“Give it to me, I’m ready.”

Logan thrusts forward, his knot sliding in with a satisfying pop, your words spurring him on. He pulses, cock swelling impossibly large before he cums. Thick, hot white ropes paint your insides as he stutters and groans, nearly growls, dropping to his elbows and forcing your knees to your chest. His hips don’t stop moving, still rutting up into you as you play with your clit. You just need a little bit more to push you over the edge. 

His voice is gravely in your ear as he careens over you, half squishing you with his weight. “I love you.” 

It’s the emotion of the moment that makes you cum. Tears in your eyes and love in your heart. Love is a lot like faith, blind trust in the unknown. A bishop can train his whole life, be a theologian, a scholar of the bible, know all of his god’s teachings inside out, and have less faith than a man who’s lived through hell. Putting your trust into the unknown and praying that good comes back to you. You felt like you were finally home, like that piece of yourself you’ve been missing for years is clicking back into place.

Logan didn’t know romance. He was gruff and awkward, snappy at the random way things. But he stood on the outside when you walked along the street, never let you carry anything, and opened every door for you. Never bought you flowers because he hated the local guy who sold them. But he picked them for you daily on his runs. Didn’t ever wash your laundry, but he folded every piece of clothing you owned and hung up all your shirts, all of it, just because you mentioned hating folding clothes to him once. 

He’d never be able to admit to you how much you meant to him fully. When you came into his life, he was close to ending things. There had been so many dark, endless days that only he remembered now. Horrors beyond human comprehension were his burden, shadowing his every waking moment until you came walking into his life.

There’d be a conversation in the morning that probably would rise into an argument. He’d likely storm off, and you’d be there waiting, telling him to get therapy, and this time, he would. This time, he’d go talk to a shrink about the mess in his head and sort it out for you, for himself. This time he wouldn’t fuck it up and leave you in the middle of the night. He’d have the difficult, uncomfortable conversations that activate his fight or flight. 

You were soft under him as he lifted off of you, still unable to pull out due to his knot. He rotated the two of you so you were on top, your chests pressed together as he lazily traced your spine. 

“I love you too.” 

“I love you more, sunbeam.” 

“Oh, absolutely not. You know I hate that name.”

©️ uzuzrimisery

thank you @txjis for beta reading

[hedgehog-moss]

Today felt like the last day of summer... I spent a long time following a little stream, looking for the spot where I'd found wild currants last year. They had clearly moved to a different spot, or maybe I'm just bad at finding things again because the only landmarks my brain finds worth remembering are stuff like "there were two baby cows to the left" or "there was a majestic hawk perched on a fencepost." I did know the currants grew near a waterfall that's near a little hamlet, and (unlike the baby cows) both were still here one year later.

Half an hour into our quest Pandolf had decided we must be looking for water, so he stopped like "Here!!" every time he found a noteworthy watery spot, it was very sweet.

Eventually I resigned myself to the fact that I wasn't going to find my favourite berries this year, and I went back to the road—and found raspberries instead! The last ones of the summer...

I was like "I accept this consolation prize, world, thank you" and had started picking raspberries when I heard soft dainty footsteps on the road behind me. On reflex I said "Bonjour !" as I was turning around and then realised I'd just said bonjour to this lady:

She walked up to me like she was about to ask me for directions, but then went right past me and walked on with the same purposeful air.

She stopped to admire the view above the waterfall like an old lady on her routine evening walk, then she was on her way.

Pandolf and I went in the opposite direction, to go home, and we soon found another pony who was clearly the first one's pasture mate. This one was in her pasture and she looked sad and abandoned (and/or outraged). She kept pacing and then stopping behind the fence and whinnying.

After we crossed the hamlet we saw a guy on his tractor on the road—he was on his way to a pasture where you could see a little herd of cows who had formed an orderly queue in front of their milking parlour. It was evening milking time and the ladies knew it.

Cows queue like British citizens, I mean very politely and patiently, but still I didn't want to keep them waiting so I hesitated to stop the guy to tell him about the fugitive. I chose the compromise of trotting besides his tractor to give him the news, and the tractor was very loud so he couldn't hear me well and I had to sort of convey the concept of escaped ponyhood with hand gestures. The guy looked in the direction I was indicating and then nodded and moved his arms in a philosophical gesture of total acceptance, like, "Such is life." Or maybe it was "Not my pony, not my problem."

I on the other hand feel a deep sense of community with people who have escape artist animals, so I ended up turning back to see if I could at least orient the pony in the vague direction of her pasture. I found her at a crossroads, wondering where tonight's walk would take her.

When I tried to go around her and shoo her back in the right direction, she went off the road and down by the stream, which wasn't the plan, and Pandolf happily followed her then barked at me like "hey!! water!!" Our search for water had ended but I followed them to humour him—and! I found some wild currants! down by the little bridge that the pony was waiting for me to notice like some mystical guide.

There were no actual berries to be found, I'm a bit too late for that, but I got some cuttings to transplant near my house and since I thought I was going to go home empty-handed it made me feel successful anyway.

So maybe the pony saw me meandering near her pasture looking for currants and decided to escape so she could help me out. A criminal with a heart of gold. If I'd walked by the bridge I might have seen the currants without her help because, guess what, last year's hawk, Guardian of the Gooseberries, was still there on his fencepost nearby. What a good landmark! But I wouldn't have walked by the bridge without the pony's prompting as I had already given up on my search, so she did escape for a good cause.

I tried to use the currants as bait to attract the pony (let's call her Mrs Berry) towards her pasture, but after I pulled the leaves out of her reach for the third time I lost her trust and she stopped paying attention to me. So I had to go back to the good old method to make shetland ponies move, i.e. walk behind her and occasionally pretend-kick in the direction of her bum, the way you'd shepherd a reticent pigeon.

Her friend looked pretty indifferent upon seeing her again, so I think she wasn't whinnying out of worry but because she's a Pirlouit (a snitch).

I opened the pasture gate but Mrs Berry had absolutely no intention of going home so early. She went in the opposite direction, for a little stroll around her hamlet. (Look at Pandolf merrily leading the way! He loves escape artist animals, he thinks they're so much more fun than everybody else.)

Nobody was home in the house by the pasture and I decided to let Mrs Berry stroll, now that she was no longer on the road walking away towards the distant horizon. I figured she must be a Pampérigouste, a known local personage who goes out for an adventure every now and then. We let her have her harmless fun in the two and a half streets of her little village, and since we had lost some time following this pony round, the sun was now quite low and Pan was all prettily backlit as he frolicked on the way home <3

[smilesrobotlover]

The sun felt warm as it shone against Talon’s skin, making his eyes grow heavy as he and his carriage slowly moved across Hyrule field. He had just sold some Lon Lon milk in Castle town, and left early in the morning so he could get home as soon as possible. Unfortunately for him, he wasn’t a morning person, so he was doing everything in his power to stay awake. The last thing he needed was to fall asleep and get robbed by bandits.

The field was quiet and peaceful, the world not yet awakening from the sun barely peeking over the horizon. The gentle clip-clop of his horse’s hooves against the ground was soothing, and Talon began to feel too relaxed, finally giving in to his desires of dozing off.

A distressed whinny caused him to jolt awake. He looked around, expecting to be attacked by bandits or monsters, but all he saw was a small horse running to him, whinnying frantically at Talon.

“Oh my, where’d you come from, little one?” He wondered out loud, stopping his carriage and hopping off. The horse was noticeably young, with a beautiful chestnut coat and cream colored hair. It was a mare from what Talon could see, and looking at her coat, she seemed awfully familiar to him. She stomped up to Talon and gently bit his hand, attempting to drag him.

“Woah woah woah!” Talon pulled back, giving the horse a weird look. “What do ya think you’re doin’ little one?”

The horse whinnied again and started to shuffle to an area, clearly trying to get Talon to follow. Talon didn’t have much choice but to follow; a horse only acted like this when something was wrong.

“Where’s your rider?” He muttered, following the horse reluctantly. He didn’t know what he was being led to specifically, but seeing the size of the filly with a saddle of all things made him worried for a young rider, possibly injured somewhere. Seeing that Talon was finally following her, the filly started to trot towards a cluster of trees, stopping at a patch of bushes where she began to stomp around, impatiently nibbling and nudging the leaves on the bushes. Talon let out a sigh when he reached the spot, looking around to see if anything was out of the ordinary, but there was nothing. Was this filly just lost and was panicking, hoping to get help? Talon had to admit she seemed to be a smart horse, but he didn’t understand why he was led to a patch of bushes.

“Are you lost, little one?” He asked, watching as the young mare nibbled on the bushes. She nudged the leaves away with her snout while snorting, and Talon was able to catch a glimpse of blonde hair. He gasped and got on his knees, moving the bushes out of the way to reveal a young, blonde-haired boy with green clothes that blended in with the plants surrounding him. He looked to be about the same age as his daughter Malon, barely eleven, and his face was pale and covered in sweat. He wheezed as he breathed and he had a pained expression on his face, and Talon lightly touched his head to feel a burning fever. He frowned and began to shake him gently, seeing if he would wake up. The boy groaned and reacted to his touch, his eyes fluttering open. They landed on Talon immediately and several emotions flickered through his face.

“M-Mr– Bart—ten…” He choked out, his eyes tearing up as he stared at Talon. The farmer blinked for a moment, confused about what he was saying, but he let out a sigh and went to gather the boy in his arms. The poor thing was clearly delirious, and he needed medical attention.

“It’s ok, kiddo, I’ll take care of you,” he assured. The boy felt fragile in his strong arms, and he whimpered in pain as his head rested against Talon’s chest. The farmer wasted no time finding a spot for the boy in his carriage, having to move some empty bottles out of the way and laying strands of hay to add a cushion for him. He gently laid him down, finding a quilt tucked away in the corner of the carriage and swaddled him the best he could. It didn’t look comfy, but it was better than nothing. He tucked the empty bottles away to make sure they didn’t fall on him, and he grabbed a spare rope to tie to the back.

“I hope you don’t mind this, I have a feeling that boy is your rider,” Talon explained, tying the rope to the filly. The young mare surprisingly seemed willing to be tied to the carriage, and waited patiently as Talon hopped on his carriage, resuming his journey with more haste. He tried to keep a steady pace so the carriage wouldn’t jostle, and so that the mare wouldn’t be dragged behind, but he knew he needed to move fast if he wanted to get back to the ranch. He fortunately had medicine stocked up at home, knowing that if he, Malon, or Ingo got sick, he wouldn’t have time to go back and forth getting more, so the boy should be fine when they got there. He just hoped it wouldn’t turn into anything serious—Talon was knowledgeable on illnesses and injuries, but he was no doctor.

The sun was beginning to set when Talon arrived at Lon Lon, and he hopped off the carriage in front of his house, untying the mare and collecting the feverish boy in his arms.

“Daddy!”

Talon glanced up to see his little girl running towards him, an excited smile on her face. Talon smiled back and shifted the boy in his arms slightly.

“You’re back! Did ya get me anything?”

“Why yes, I did,” Talon said, pulling the boy out of the carriage and showing Malon. “I got you a new friend, but he’s a little sick right now.”

Malon’s eyes went big and she stepped forward, gently patting the boy’s arm. “Fairy boy! It’s Fairy boy! Don’t you remember him daddy?”

Talon looked down at the boy again. He was so distracted on getting him into his carriage, he didn’t recognize him as the young boy that visited Lon Lon Ranch over a year ago. Memories of him and Malon playing music at the ranch flooded in, and Talon only felt more inclined to take care of him. The situation became more personal.

“Epona!” Malon squealed, giggling at the filly who trotted towards her excitedly. Talon stared at the two’s reunion, Epona nuzzling Malon’s chest while she sang her favorite song. He smiled warmly at them and quickly headed inside, not wanting to wait much longer. So this boy and that horse used to be here in Lon Lon? Goddesses, it had been a while since Talon’s seen him, and yet it felt like it was only yesterday. Though the fairy boy was in their lives for such a short time, he left an impact on the ranch, specifically with Malon. He was the first kid her age that she’s met and played with, and Malon talked her father’s ear off about him since he went away with Epona in tow. Talon began to grow curious about where he was all this time, and why he was hidden in bushes with a burning fever.

The farmer walked up the stairs that led to his room and he set the sick boy gently on the soft mattress. He stared at him for a moment, his brow furrowed, trying to remember anything else about the little one, but nothing came up, so he turned around to get medicine, water, and a damp cloth. The folks at Lon Lon didn’t get sick often, so he hoped he remembered enough about taking care of a fever. When he went back upstairs to his room, he heard the boy whimpering, shifting in the soft bed. Talon quickly took off his shoes to make him more comfortable and rested his hand on his head. The fever was concerningly strong.

“Excuse me,” Talon said softly, gently shaking the boy. He groaned and his eyes fluttered open again, staring over Talon’s shoulder. He squinted his eyes and frowned.

“Romani? … How…?”

Talon raised an eyebrow and looked behind him, flinching when his daughter suddenly appeared.

“Goddesses, Malon, don’t sneak up on me like that!” He scolded. Malon gave an apologetic look, her dimples appearing as she smiled slightly.

“Sorry, daddy. I just wanted to see Link! It’s been a while!”

Malon leaned over the fairy boy (or Link, Talon supposed), brushing his hair away from his face. Link looked horrified as he watched Malon, clearly looking uncomfortable.

“Malon, sweetie, let’s give him some space,” Talon spoke up, noting Link’s strange expressions. “I oughta give him some medicine anyhow.”

Malon hopped back and gave her father an excited look. “Can I help?”

“Oh! Well…” Talon glanced at the bowl of water and the cloth. “You can help wipe his face when I’m done givin’ him medicine, ok?”

Malon nodded excitedly, watching as Talon helped Link sit up. The boy was so weak that he could barely move on his own, and Talon eventually pulled him into his lap so he could lean against him. Talon gripped Link’s arm firmly so he could stay in place and began rummaging his hand all over the nightstand to grab the medicine. His daughter noticed his searching and grabbed the medicine for him and Talon gave her a grateful nod, uncorking the bottle and bringing it to Link’s lips.

“You think you can drink this?” He asked, and Link nodded, clumsily grabbing at the bottle and drinking it with Talon’s help. Talon had to pull it back a couple of times to make sure it didn’t spill everywhere, but Link was surprisingly cooperative for an eleven-year-old drinking the disgusting medicine; he remembered he always had to fight Malon whenever she needed it. The bottle was soon gone, and Link leaned back against Talon’s chest, his eyes closed. The farmer cradled him for a moment, figuring that Link needed that type of comfort, and Malon walked over as she watched him with her father, her head tilted with fascination.

“Is he gonna be ok?” Malon asked, and Talon looked up at her, nodding confidently.

“I’m sure he will be,” he said, carefully moving Link so he could get off the bed. He laid him down and pulled the blankets over him, giving his hair a soft ruffle before pulling away.

“I’m gonna put the carriage away, Malon. You keep an eye on him, ok?” Talon said, and his daughter nodded back at him. Talon lingered for a moment, worriedly watching them, but finally left the room. Ingo was outside staring at the carriage annoyed, but he quickly scurried away when Talon showed up. The farmer glanced over at Epona, who was watching him silently. Talon frowned and walked over to her, giving her a gentle pat on the snout.

“That boy doesn’t have a family, does he?” He asked, knowing that Epona wouldn’t answer. It was something Talon noticed when Link first arrived. Though he didn’t remember much, he did remember that Link was by himself whenever he saw him. The only company he had was his fairy. Talon shouldn’t be too surprised—if Link really was a Kokiri, then it’d make sense why he’d have no family. But Kokiris died when they left the woods, didn’t they? Or was Link finally experiencing the death a Kokiri had when they were out of the woods? Talon rubbed his eyes with a soft grumble. He really didn’t know if any of that was true, but it made Talon slightly worried. Despite remembering that Link was from the lost woods, Talon couldn’t help but feel that he was a Hylian. Everything down to his mannerisms made him seem far more mature than the Kokiri ever were. They remained as children, their bodies and mentalities never changing, even for centuries. But Link…. His face held a mature understanding of the world that Talon only saw in adults. Either way, Talon couldn’t risk him dying. If he needed to return to the woods, he would take him there, he just needed to learn more about him.

Talon led Epona and his carriage to the barn, letting her and the horses roam with the others before returning to the house with warm Lon Lon milk. He was expecting Link to be sound asleep, but to his surprise, he was already trying to get out of bed despite Malon’s protests.

“Link, honestly! You can’t be gettin’ up now! You could barely drink the medicine my daddy gave to you!” She shouted, trying to shove him back to bed.

“I… I’ll be fine,” he mumbled, his voice raspy and hoarse. He brushed Malon off and reached for his shoes, but grew out of breath.

“Link! You’re sick! Lay back down!”

“I can’t stay…”

Talon entered the room with haste, setting the bottle of milk down as he walked up to Link. The boy stared up at him, his light blue eyes wide with guilt.

“Do you need to go to the woods?” Talon asked him, and Link frowned.

“What?”

“The woods? The lost woods? Where all them youngins are in?”

“O-oh, Kokiri forest?”

“Yeah, that. I hear Kokiri die when they’re away from the forest for too long. You… you’re a Kokiri, right?”

A devastated look took over Link’s exhausted face, his eyes spacing out as he looked down. “No…”

Talon frowned at his reaction, and he glanced over at Malon who looked concerned.

“No?”

“I-I’m not going to the woods… I’m not a Kokiri… I don’t belong there anymore. I don’t–I don’t belong anywhere,” Link’s voice grew so quiet that Talon almost didn’t catch what he said at the end. It was quiet in the room, and Link slowly went to grab his shoes, but Talon stopped him.

“What’s the rush then?”

“I… can’t stay….”

“Why not?”

“Because I…. I…” Link stammered, trying to push out a good argument, but with his feverish mind and exhausted body, he couldn’t. Talon sighed and gently pushed him back, and Link obliged, laying down on the pillow, his eyes half closed.

“At least get some rest before you decide to travel, ok?”

Link’s eyes went wide for a second, before closing, and he was finally asleep. Talon sighed and gave his head a pat, giving a proud smile to Malon.

“You handled that well, dear.”

Malon brushed some hair out of her eyes and sighed. “Thanks daddy. He sure is a stubborn one, ain’t he?”

Talon shrugged and stared at the young boy. So he wasn’t a Kokiri, that meant he wasn’t dying, thank the goddesses. But everything else about Link confused him. If he seemingly didn’t belong to the Kokiri anymore, then where did he call home? Did he even have a home? Talon sighed and began to head out of the room.

“I trust you’ll keep a good eye on him?”

Malon nodded. “I won’t let him try to get up next time.”

Talon snorted. “Try not to hurt him too much. You got some Gerudo blood in you, while he’s a simple Hylian,” Talon glanced at Link, “I think. Give him that milk when he wakes up.”

Malon nodded again and plopped herself in a chair, staring at the strange boy in bed. Talon smiled at her, leaving the room once again, feeling exhausted himself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Link’s fever was persistent. Talon spent a long time with him to see if he was getting better, but he was not. He wasn’t getting worse though, which Talon supposed was better than nothing. Link stayed in bed most of the time, unable to get out due to the fever and to Malon forcing him to rest. Talon always had to make sure she was gentle with him. He knew she had such a gentle and kind soul, but her Gerudo strength, despite having only a little bit of it, was not to be underestimated. Malon stayed by Link’s side the entire time, only leaving when she had chores to do. She would talk the boy’s ear off when she was with him; talking to him about her chores, her favorite animals, and the songs she wrote. She would occasionally sing to him, and he would always listen. Talon couldn’t tell if he wanted to listen, but considering the small smile on his lips whenever his daughter spoke to him, he assumed that he enjoyed the company. Many times, Talon decided to do Malon’s chores for her so she could spend time with her friend, and eventually, Link started to feel better.

Talon allowed him to walk around the ranch, knowing that being in the same room for days couldn’t feel good for anyone, and Link happily obliged. He always seemed anxious, as if there was something he had to be doing, so being able to at least walk around made him a little more cheery than normal. But as soon as he was able to walk around, he once again tried to leave.

“Where do you think you’re goin’?” Talon asked when he caught Link packing up his things, trying to talk him out of it before he was gone. Link didn’t say anything for a moment, a guilty look on his face.

“I–I need to be elsewhere,” he finally said, finishing packing up his few items scattered across the room.

“Already? I know you’re feelin’ better, and exercise is good for you, but you can’t push yourself.”

Link let out a huff. “I’ll be fine. This fever will go away in due time.”

“Yeah, if you take care of yourself,” Talon argued, and Link shot a glare at him.

“Why do you care?” He suddenly snapped. Talon’s eyes widened at the boy’s sudden hostility. He scratched the back of his head and looked away.

“Is it so wrong for me to care about a sick kid?”

Link’s expression softened and he turned away. “How much do you remember?” He asked softly.

“Huh?”

“How much–how much do you remember of me?”

Talon was taken aback at the strange question. Though he’s only seen Link a couple of times last year, he remembered them pretty well now that he spent more time with the kid.

“I remember you woke me up with a cuccoo and told me my daughter was waitin’ for me. Good thing too ‘cause I didn’t mean to fall asleep at the castle of all places. Poor Malon.” Link stayed still as stone so Talon continued, “I remember you came by our ranch and found my special cuccoo. I teased you about marryin’ my daughter and you got all shy ‘bout it.” Talon chuckled at the memory. Link looked away with an embarrassed look on his face so Talon moved onto the next memory. “I remember you and Malon played all day, and played music as loud as you two could. It sorta annoyed me when I was tryin’ to sleep but I ain’t never seen Malon sing with all her heart like that before. So I let it continue.” Talon sighed and racked everything he remembered about Link, but only one more memory remained. “And then I remember you buyin’ Epona. It broke Malon’s heart to part with that horse but she cared about you and knew you would take great care of her. And that’s about all I remember of you.”

Link continued to face away from Talon, staring blankly at the wall. Talon frowned and walked up to him.

“Why are you askin’ this?”

Link sighed and hugged himself. “You just don’t know me like you used to.”

Talon was taken aback again. “Now what in Farore’s name do you mean by that?”

Link opened his mouth but was interrupted by Malon entering the room. She spotted Link’s packed up possessions and frowned.

“You’re leaving already?” She asked as he quickly finished gathering his things. “Are you sure you feel well enough for it?”

“I’ll be fine,” he said softly, looking up at Talon with another guilty expression. “I’ve already overstayed my welcome.”

Talon tilted his head. “You didn’t overstay nothin’ boy. It was my pleasure to have you here.”

Link smiled slightly, but he quickly turned away, a sad and distant look in his eye. Talon stroked his chin and squinted at him.

“Where do you call home?”

Link glanced at Talon, then at the floor. “I—um…”

“Do you… have a home?”

Link didn’t react, and he shifted uncomfortably. Talon sighed.

“Oh… Link, if you have nowhere else to go, you can always stay here—“

“No! I-I mean,” Link shrunk away, clutching onto his shirt. “You-you guys have been very kind but I–I don’t want to be a bother anymore.”

“You were anything but a bother! We loved havin’ you here!” Talon reassured, but Link didn’t look convinced

“I-I can’t stay here for free… I—I don’t—“ Link whimpered slightly, pressing himself further against the wall. Talon backed up slightly, realizing he was being too forceful with the boy. He took a deep breath and tried again.

“Ok, if you don’t wanna stay for free, then you don’t have to,” he said softly.

Link finally looked at him, a sad look on his face. “I don’t have any rupees though.”

“Who said anythin’ about money! How old are ya? Eleven? I can't expect an eleven-year-old to be able to pay rent!”

Link stared at him confused. “Then how…?”

“Well, I can always have ya work around the farm, do whatever chores you’re capable of doin’, in return you get a place to stay and food to eat.”

Link stared for a moment, the gears in his mind turning as he thought about Talon’s offer.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to. Sorry to put pressure on you,” Talon quickly added, realizing he was still being forceful. “But if you want, we’d love to have you.”

Link was silent for a long time, swaying slightly as Talon and Malon watched him. He finally let out a sigh and looked up at Talon.

“Can I…. Think about it?”

Talon was relieved slightly and nodded. “Of course you can, just know that wherever you go, you’ll always have a place to stay in Lon Lon Ranch.”

Link gave a more genuine smile at him.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

Talon escorted Link to the entrance with Malon in tow, the two Lon’s chatting about mundane things with Link listening silently. When they reached the entrance, Talon turned to his daughter and nodded.

“Malon, could you get his horse for him?”

“Of course, daddy!”

Talon watched as his daughter ran to where the horses were, then he glanced at Link who still had an unsure look on his face.

“Link?”

Link pursed his lips. “I… I wish there was a way I could repay you for this…”

“Oh, it was on the house,” Talon said, waving his hand. “It’s the least I could do for you.”

Link smiled, his hands clumped up on his chest. “You don’t know how much this means to me… I… thank you…”

“Oh, it’s my pleasure. And my offer will always be here for you, or… if you ever wanna visit,” Talon shrugged, “you’re free to visit as well if you don’t wanna stay.”

Link’s face twisted slightly, and he shyly leaned into Talon, which surprised him. He was always so distant from the others, but he was almost hugging the old farmer. Talon wrapped his arms around him and rubbed his back gently, only pulling away when Malon returned with Epona. Link quickly hopped on the horse, discreetly wiped his eye, and he gave the two a nod.

“I guess I’ll… see you around?” He said, and Talon nodded.

“Of course, you be safe out there boy!” Talon said, waving him goodbye.

“Yeah! Come visit! I want to sing with you again!” Malon exclaimed, waving enthusiastically at him. Link grinned at her and nodded at the two. Then he clicked his tongue and ran off on his horse, heading to Din knows where. Talon watched sadly as he disappeared into the field, almost wishing there was more he could do for him. It was strange how much the boy had changed since he first met him. Link was a very playful and hyper boy when they first met him, matching Malon’s hyper energy. But now, he was jaded and serious, almost as if he was an adult trapped in a child’s body. Talon didn’t want to think about what he went through in the past year to get to that point, but he hoped that now Link knew that he didn’t have to face any of it alone, and that he had people to turn to.

He just had to wait for him to reach out.

[kiame-sama]

the hybrid babies headbutting is so cute 😭 what about for other hybrids? like for azul, the baby would wrap a tentacle around the human's fingers? or for baby gnolls, they prance around the human and nibble on the human's hand? just some thoughts

Warnings: Several hybrid infants mentioned, yanderes in full possession of their darling, fem bodied reader, mention of pregnancy, fluffy, one poly relationship mentioned

Part 1:

~~~~~~~~

Azul's Hybrid Larve:

- After hatching, the larvae are very attached to their Human parent, wrapping their little chubby hands and tentacles around the fingers and arms of their Human parent. The gentle currents of the ocean are difficult for the less coordinated Cecilia infants, so they will anchor themselves on their parents (Azul, or the Human. Azul looks like them and they take solace in that. Jade is primary dad, but they are cautious of Jade's sharp eyes and teeth. They don't trust Floyd despite how much it makes him pout.)

Jade/Floyd's Hybrid Fry:

The little Eel Merbabies are less dependent on their parents than the very clingy Cecilia infants, but the eels will gravitate towards their soft Human parent more. They may nibble a little bit before their teeth come in, but they know not to bite the Human that feeds and raises them. They are absolute terrors to their fathers most of the time and flee to their Human parent should Floyd get annoyed with them.

Vil's Hybrid Chicks:

They follow the Human around in a row and go where the Human goes. Sometimes they like to play under Vil's tail feathers as he does have an impressive train of color and the chicks love chasing their adoring father around. As cold as Vil can be, he is very affectionate to his chicks and mates, often cooing softly to his chicks and intentionally placing the chicks around the Human, only to cover them all with his wings. Vil is a very good Harpy Peacock father. Rook will also carry the chicks around on his back as if they were Drider Hatchlings.

Rook's Hybrid Hatchlings:

The hatchlings want to be on top of something, usually clinging to their parents for safety and warmth. Rook will be carrying the hatchlings most of the time on his large arachnid body, but the little spiderling Driders will still climb up on Vil and their Human parent for that same safety and heat. The little Driders are clingy and hard to remove once they latch on, much like how adult golden Huntsman spiders can grab prey/predators on reflex and are extremely difficult to remove.

Trey's Hybrid Foals:

The Kelpie foals are clingy and practically attached to their Human parent's hip from the time they open their eyes to at least five years old. Sure, they will follow Trey around and trot after him while he bakes, but it is a tragedy among tragedies for them to be split from their Human parent for long. Losing sight of their Human parent will make the foals frantic, resulting in kicking, rearing, high whinnying cries, and bolting to where they last saw the Human as they search for their parent with increasing distress. At home, they are more than content to settle for Trey if the Human needs rest, not nearly as upset should they lose sight of their Human parent.

Lilia's Hybrid Pups:

The little Bat pups need to be held in near constant until about two years old or they will begin to wiggle/panic/scream. It is uncomfortable for them to lay on their backs early in life because of their wings. By being held, that pressure on the wings is reduced and the pups are comforted by the warmth of their parent. Lilia will insist on holding the pups unless it is during feeding or the Human wants to carry the pups for a bit. They are very cute and squeak to communicate early on, clicking and squeaking to their beloved parents.

Jamil's Hybrid Hatchlings:

The hatchling Nagas will wind themselves around the Human when they want attention from their beloved Human parent. They will also do the same to Jamil, winding their tails around the fingers/arms of the older Naga. Sometimes the infants will ball up in their coils and can just be carried around like a ball until they unravel. They are venomous and have venom as soon as their fangs grow in, but they do not bite their parents. They will bite anyone other than their parents, however.

Ruggie's Hybrid Cubs:

The cubs are eager to tumble and play with one another, even at very young ages. Though the cubs are exciteable and wrestle together a lot, they are gentle when trying to play with their Human parent. They will mouth at the hands, arms, and legs of their Human parent, being careful to not bite but still play with the Human. With Ruggie, they are full on biting and being rough because his hide is thicker and able to withstand their rough play. At night they are right up against their Human parent's side, sleeping soundly against the soft belly.

Ace/Deuce's hybrid kids:

The little Goat-hybrids have a habit of climbing and headbutting anything that moves. Headbutting to the kids is more of a challenge or play fighting than a sign of affection. They won't headbutt their Human parent because even they understand that is not appropriate behavior towards Humans, but they sure as hell will headbutt the Fawn or Satyr. They don't have horns until about ten years of age, so it isn't particularly harmful or painful to be headbutt by them, but they will continuously headbutt one another and their Goatly parent until they tire themselves out.

[yandere--stuck]

"Rarity, can I please go home now?" You asked, voice strained.

Even if the pain in your voice wasn't obvious, it should have been just from looking at you - which Rarity had been for the past several hours! Your hearing was slightly muffled from how flat your ears were pressed against your skull. Occasionally, you'd weakly lift one hoof off the ground for momentary relief, praying that the other three wouldn't give out. If you weren't held up by obligation to your friend, you were sure you'd have slumped to the floor of the platform in exhaustion.

"Oh, but where would I be without my muse?" The mare whirled around from her sewing machine.

Biting back a sneer, you held back your frustration. Something about Rarity simply getting a new muse was held in your jaws like a steel trap. But, you couldn't do that. A heavy sigh heaved out through your snout.

Rarity was your friend. Someone who was always generous and loving toward you, as a good friend should be. It's only fair for you to give her just as much in return. Not only that, but she was an Element of Harmony and owner of two different boutiques. To say she had quite a bit of social standing now was an understatement. Not that you think she'd ever use that against you… No. Never. Not Rarity.

"I'm almost done, dearest, I assure you," the mare promised before turning to look outside. Complete darkness. Her eyes widened, a gasp escaping her. "Oh my, I completely lost track of time. My sincerest apologies, darling!"

A sigh escaped you, your irritation leaving with it. Of course, it wasn't intentional. Rarity would never do this on purpose. Accidents happen. And hay, it'd be over soon, right? With a smile and nod, you waved her off with a shaky foreleg.

"Don't worry about it," you assured. "I just need to get home soon."

"Oh… I don't think that'd be a good idea. It's far too dark out now, I'd feel awful having you leave on your own. How about you stay the night?"

"Are you sure? I wouldn't want to impose…"

"Of course!" Rarity whinnied, trotting over to look up at you. "It's been some time since I've had a sleepover, and there's nopony I'd rather spend time with than my muse."

You watched as Rarity reached up for you, feeling the soft underside of her hoof cup the side of your face, gently stroking your fur. You couldn't help the smile and slight flush that rushed to your cheeks. Rarity always made you feel like a star, the most important pony in the room. And she was so comforting... You leaned into her touch and, just for a moment, allowed yourself to close your eyes...

You felt the world go off balance, wobbly legs giving out from under you as you went careening toward the floor. A cry of surprise escaped Rarity. The floor rushed up to you, nothing underneath you and legs too weak to catch your fall- oh, this was gonna smart!

But, suddenly, everything stilled, as if time itself stopped. Your vision was filtered through a blue hue. Darting your eyes around to get your bearings, you spotted the mare. Her face was twisted in concentration and her horn covered in a blue aura. Rarity… Rarity had saved you!

With great effort, she slowly lowered you to the ground by her side. Immediately, she pressed herself up against you for you to lean on. The feeling of her fur was so warm against your own. The moment you were released from her aura, you fell against her.

"Rarity," you mumbled, pressing the side of your face against hers. You were so tired…

"Let's get you to bed, dearest," you heard her say. "You can take my bed. You've more than earned it."

You could barely walk, let alone reply or keep your eyes open. You let her guide you through the boutique, helping you gently up the stairs before eventually you found it. Salvation. The feeling of a soft mattress and satin sheets and even better, nothing under your hooves for you to keep yourself held up.

Rarity held herself back from squealing or jumping for joy in her excitement. It worked! Her plan worked! Ah, but, how could it not have? Finally, Her beloved muse would never leave her again. Oh, how she adored you.

And how glad she was that you were far too exhausted to even notice the shackles that clasped around your hooves, secured by a bedpost.

Pressing a kiss to the top of your head, she whispered a wish for sweet dreams. And in the morning, you'd start the rest of your lives together. 

A happily ever after. Just like she'd always dreamed of.

[hwasoup]

Tale As Old As Time

Playlist to read along with !!

songs used for inspo: No Matter What (reprise), Wolf Chase, etc...

art credit goes to Marbipa

ooh lord, my back hurts from so much from all the typing I swear once I start writing I don't stop until it's done, any whoop I hope you enjoy this chapter as well!! Try guessing who our new characters are, they'll be introduced soon!!

like always let me know if you’d like to be tagged !

prev | ch.3>>

warnings: enchanted items, fear, slight harassment, slight misogyny

word count: 2.5K

Chapter 2: The Castle

A week after departing from the village….

Mauricio happily hums a tune to himself as he directs Felipe where to go. “Ahh Felipe, can’t you taste it?? First place at the contest, I mean this contraption is very nifty, I’m sure I'll win a prize” He holds onto the reins a bit tighter as he looks around the dark woods. “Well…isn’t this lovely…if only I could recognize which woods I'm in” he says. After a while he reaches a fork in the road. He didn’t know whether to go left or to go right “well…this...is…something” he thinks for a while and looks in both directions “well then Felipe, let's go left, shall we? Let's try to get somewhere before-” Thunder rumbles in the distance..."before the storm hits.” he says while directing the horse to go on the path.

After a while the woods slowly became more spiritless, the trees started looking more shriveled, and the vegetation slowly started disappearing. The wind has picked up a bit and the thunder rumbled louder than before. Mauricio looks around a bit more and says “well where did you take us Felipe? This can’t be right?” he says blaming his decision on the poor horse. Then Howling is heard in the distance. Felipe backed up a bit looking around anxiously as he nickered some more “We should turn back around” Mauricio says.

Suddenly out of the blue he sees a wolf behind him and immediately yells “GO FELIPE GO” The Horse neighs loudly and starts galloping, Rain has started falling and lightning crackles in the sky. Mauricio didn’t even bother to look behind him as he could hear the pattering of feet and snarls behind him. He was being chased by a pack of wolves. The path in the woods slowly started disappearing and the trees became larger and thicker, the rainfall seemingly to become harder and stronger. The roots protruded in the path as the pair ran away. A branch that was in the way makes Felipe trip and fall, the wagon unlatching itself to the horse as it runs. Mauricio fell down and looked at his wagon, all of his supplies scattered, and his dear invention destroyed, but there was no time to think about that. 

He then heard a deep growl behind him and saw the wolf, he got up and ran as fast as his feet could take him and ran to the edge of a small cliff. He looked down and saw the rest of the wolves snarling at him, ready for him to jump so they could pounce at him. He sees Felipe in the distance and yells “FELIPE POR ACA, VENGA!” The horse whinnies and runs towards him, allowing Mauricio to jump and perfectly land on the horse’s back. He looks behind as he sees the pack chase him and his grip tightens on the horse’s reins. He turns back around to see a gate. “TO THE GATE FELIPE” he cries out. The horse runs as fast as its hooves can take him and the gates open allowing the pair to quickly escape and immediately closes as soon as they enter, leaving the hungry pack of wolves barking and snarling outside.

Felipe gallops until it becomes a trot as he could see a stable where he could stay. Mauricio wipes his face in relief and then gets off the horse and brings him to the stable “well let’s get you settled, at least you have some food and water…now, let me go up and uhm…” He looks up at the grandeur castle that is before him. “Greet our host...” he says in awe of the castle. As he walks up the stairs to the entrance, he wonders why can’t seem to remember this place existing or even why there was a castle here in the first place. His thoughts are replaced by the thunder booming as he needs to get inside to stay dry from the storm. 

Mauricio then arrives at the door and looks around, he can see all the lamps lit up, but nobody outside. He knocks on the door and the door creaks and opens. “Thank you, Thank-” he looks next to him and sees nobody by the door. He looks behind him as he sees the door closing on its own. Confused, he slowly walks inside the castle, he sees beside him a fireplace with a lovely chair. “Hello?” He walks a bit more and looks up and sees the intricate designs of the castle “I’m just a traveler…seeking shelter from the storm.” he says, a bit defeated. His words echo in the seemingly empty castle “Perdon por molestar…anyone home?” he says as he takes off his coat and hangs it on the coat rack. The coat rack then discreetly looks behind him and shakes off some of the water off the coat to release some weight. However, in a corner at a small table a clock and candelabra stare at Mauricio. “Damn...he must have gotten lost in the woods…” The clock smacks him quickly “shut up you idiot” she whispers.

Mauricio then turns around confused, making the two stop moving. “Excuse me?”

He then slowly walks towards the table and looks at the clock. “Oh how beautiful…” He then peeks at the candelabra and picks it up “oh how extraordinary.” Music from a piano starts playing, which makes Mauricio turn around and gently place the candelabra back down on the table. Mauricio then fixes himself and walks towards the music.

“Ooh he got some taste.” 

“Relax, he was talking about me.”

Mauricio then approaches the room where the piano was and sees it playing on its own. “Oop-” the piano says as it stops playing. Mauricio looks at the piano in awe and confusion and stutters a bit over his words. He turns back around to where he originally was and goes to approach the chair by the fireplace. “Well now, wherever you are…I’m just going to sit down and warm myself by the fire. 

In the distance there was some clattering which caught Mauricio’s ear. He quickly walks towards the noise as well to find himself in a dining room that had food by a chair. “Oh, muchas gracias…I couldn’t thank you enough.” he immediately sits down and starts eating, savoring the foods and flavors in his mouth. Then as he ate, he saw a cup on a small plate slowly approach him and he looked at it in utter awe, shock, and fear. “Daddy says I wasn’t supposed to move because it's scary…..sorry” says the cup in a little girl’s voice.

Mauricio’s eyes bulged out in shock as he quickly replied “its…it's alright…” 

He then bolted out of his seat, walking as quickly as he could to the entrance “I…uh. Cannot humbly thank you for…for your hospitality” he says while taking his coat and putting it back on. “But uh it seems to me that I…uh well. Bid you...adieu…” he says with a bow while opening the door. “And uhh…good night.” He slams the door walking as fast as he could, not knowing that someone was watching the whole time. Outside, the storm has stopped, and Mauricio quickly goes to Felipe and mounts him. With a quick thwip from the reins, Felipe galloped into the gardens. “No wait, stop, stop, stop.” The horse stops and Mauricio gets off “Roses…I nearly forgot...” He approaches the rose garden and notices that they were all white, “I promised mi niñita a rose...” Mauricio walks into the garden scoping a perfect rose for Y/N unaware of the owner lurking…watching him as he walks in the rose garden. The host quietly moves from one place to another as he sees Mauricio get closer to a rose. The horse starts nickering and whinnying in anxiousness, hoping that his owner would see his warning.

Mauricio then takes a look at one rose and smiles thinking about Y/N and brings his hands up to pluck the rose, but instead pricks his thumb with a thorn. The host growls as he sees Mauricio reach in again trying to pick out the rose. Finally, Mauricio with a smile plucks the rose for Y/N but instead hears a loud thud and a roar to see the figure in front of him. Scaring him nearly half dead and making him fall on his back. He whimpers in shock and tries to back up in utter fear “HOW DARE YOU STEAL FROM ME, I GIVE YOU SHELTER AND THIS IS WHAT I GET ?!”

Mauricio pleads to the monster in front of him. “N-no p-please, it was only a g-gift for my d-dau-daughter” he says while staring at him. “WHAT ARE YOU STARING AT?” Mauricio stutters some more. “OH, I SEE...WE’VE COME TO STARE AT THE BEAST, HAVE WE?” Mauricio looks at him and stammers some more “n-no I didn't mean to offend. I-” A low emanating growl comes from the beast as he approaches him “CALLATE, YOU’VE DONE PLENTY…NOW YOU’RE COMING WITH ME” He takes Mauricio and drags him back inside the castle. Felipe whinnies and bucks his hind legs as he tries to get the reins off of him, eventually succeeding and running off back to the village.

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

A few days later…

Ben is looking through a bush where some of the leaves have started goldening and falling off, while staring at y/n’s house. “...y/n is sure to get the shock of her life...” Ben nods at Eddie and looks at himself at the puddle next to him. “Oh yes Eddie, this is definitely her lucky day!” He looks away from the bush and turns around to see everything perfectly set up. He then clears his throat to catch everyone’s attention “I would like to thank all of you for coming to my wedding, your contributions are greatly appreciated…but now I gotta go in there and well” he clears out his throat once more “propose to the girl” he says with a chuckle. The guests chuckle and laugh as well unlike the 3 women in the corner who are weeping.

“Now you Eddie, have the most important job, when I come out the door with y/n...” 

“Yea I know, I’ll strike up the band” he says a bit disinterested. As he looks at the band and makes them quickly rehearse the wedding march. 

Back in y/n’s home however, she’s sitting on a chair happily reading her book until she hears a knock on her door. She approaches it and using her father’s invention to see outside, she notices it's Ben and she groans loudly to herself. “Ok…you can do this” she says to herself in a whisper as she opens the door. “Oh, why Ben... que sorpresa...” she says with a feigned voice of interest. 

“Why isn’t it, I'm always full of surprises,” Ben added. “You know y/n there isn’t a single woman in town who would be aching to be you right now.” Y/N backs up a bit “Oh uh…pero como?” Ben chuckles “Well, this is the day your dreams come true my dear...” he saunters his way more to get closer to her. “What do you know about my dreams, Ben?” He chuckled once more “Oh plenty, now here picture this.” He sits down on a chair and places his muddied shoes on the table. “A rustic hunting lodge, my latest kill...roasting on the fire, while my pretty little wife massages my aching feet, while the little ones play on the floor with the dogs” he says while looking at her with a smoldering look. “We’ll have six or seven...”

Y/N grimaces at his words and thinks at how unbelievably daring this man is right now. “Perros?” she asks with a pained smile. “No Y/N, strong boys like me!” Y/N rolls her eyes “you...don't say...” she says now looking for some sort of exit from this situation. “Now Y/N, who do you think that little wife will be?” Y/N’s eyes widen in horror and says “erm... Uhh.. let me think…” Ben interrupts her with a grin “Why, YOU Y/N.” Y/N turns away from him quickly and backs up to the door. “Ay pero, Ben I- I’m speechless..I.. well really don’t know what to say” she says as Ben approaches her with a determined look. 

Then, by using both of his arms, Ben pins her to the door with a winning smirk “say you’ll marry me then” he says as he leans in closer to Y/N. “Perdon Ben pero…I’m uh..I just...” Ben has leaned in close enough to kiss her. In a quick attempt, Y/N uses her hand to find the door handle and opens it, quickly moving out of the way, making Ben surprised and fall into a puddle of mud. 

Eddie on the other hand only hears the door open and signals for the band to start playing. He then directs the band for a bit and then hears something moving. He turns around to see Ben completely covered in mud “soo uh…Imma take that as a no...” Ben, enraged, looks into Eddie’s eyes and mutters to him “I WILL have Y/N as my wife, make no mistake about that” he states, as he begrudgingly walks away in embarrassment from the rejection, he just took in front of his wedding guests. 

After the commotion dies down, Y/N peeks out of her front door and looks around “Is he gone ??” She looks down to confirm that Ben is gone and walks outside to feed her chickens “I can’t believe him, ME? To be the wife of that headstrong, boorish, conceited man.” She grabs the chicken feed and throws it everywhere in annoyance “imagínate, señorita riley, just imagine, his little wife.” She throws the bucket of chicken feed to the ground. “I need some place to scream.” 

A few minutes later she ran on top of a hill and layed in the field of dandelions. “My dreams? What does he know about my dreams… I want adventure, I want it so much that I can’t imagine someone else imagining it.” She quietly lays in the grass for a while longer and plucks a dandelion and blows it, watching the seeds spread in the wind. “I want so much more than this tiny village,” she says to herself. “If only someone could understand...” She sighs and closes her eyes, taking in the air from her surroundings. She inhales once again but then stops as she hears whinnying in the distance. She turns around and gets up as she spots Felipe in the distance. 

“Felipe, I- what's wrong?” She looks around to see that there was no wagon and especially her father. “Dónde está papá ?” she says as she tries to calm down the horse. "Where is he Felipe, what happened?!”. 

She took hold of his reins and frantically responded “Please, we must go find him, Take me to him !!” She takes Felipe back home quickly to grab her cloak and to replace the horse’s broken reins. Once she does, she mounts Felipe and takes control as she rides out to the woods to find her father.

taglist: @cupcakeinat0r , @miguelhugger2099, @mcmiracles, @xxsugarbonesxx,@codenameredkrystalmatrix,@deputy-videogamer,@lxverrings,@miguelzslvtz,@itsameclinicaldepression,,@ricekrisbris,@loser-alert , @thedevax, @uncle-eggy, @corpsebridenightamare, @m4dyy,

[tenderleavesbob]

Despite Twilight's coaxing and having successfully pet Epona, Hyrule remained leery of horses. Warriors couldn't blame him. Loftwings were supposedly safe, friendly beasts as well, and Sky's Loftwing still disturbed Warriors a little. Not frightened, no matter what Legend said. Disturbed. It didn't help that Sky's Loftwing seemed fascinated by Warriors and often tried to groom his hair and wanted to eat his scarf.

Sky said Crimson was only trying to groom the scarf, too, since it was so important to Warriors. Warriors called bullshit.

Warriors knew Hyrule, though. He knew the boy would love the feel of the wind in his hair and the feeling of freedom only a horse could provide.

Well. The feeling of something horse-like could provide.

"Are you sure this is okay, Warriors?" Hyrule asked. He wrung his hands and rocked from foot to foot. "I don't want you to feel uncomfortable."

Warriors snorted and tossed his mane. He watched Hyrule's gaze settle on his horn and his golden hair. Hyrule kept his hands to himself, though. Silly boy.

"He's fine with it," Wind insisted. He reached out and stroked Warriors's mane. With Warriors on the ground as he was, he was both accessible to Hyrule and Wind's greedy hands. Wind loved his mane and was almost as bad as Twilight about braiding it. "You'd know if he wasn't."

Warriors snorted again and nodded in agreement. Nodding in this form required far more dramatic motion than his other form, and Wind laughed as Warriors's hair went flying again. If they didn't get moving soon, Wind would absolutely start braiding his mane.

"If you're sure..." Hyrule bit his lower lip and let his hand hover over Warriors's back. Warriors refused to accept a saddle, but he wouldn't need one to keep Hyrule from falling off. "This won't hurt you?"

"C'mon, Rulie!" Wind hopped on Warriors's back. Warriors barely managed to not grunt and frighten Hyrule away. That was not how anyone rode a horse. Or shifter, in his case. "I'll help you!"

"And if Wars drops you," Legend called from his sprawl in the grass, "I'll light his tail on fire!"

Warriors whinnied in protest. He hadn't dropped anyone so far! Including Legend!

"You can do it!" Twilight cheered from atop Epona.

Wild and Time sat astride two horses from the stable, cheering Hyrule on, too. Sky smiled encouragingly from the grass beside Legend. Four stretched out beside them both, content just to relax in the sun. He didn't look like he was paying attention, but Warriors knew Four better than that. He was always watching, always assessing.

He possibly was overdue for a ride, too. Warriors made a mental note to follow up with him later.

Hyrule still looked nervous, but after a soft neigh from Warriors, he slowly slid on behind Wind. Wind cheered. "Let's go!"

Warriors eased himself back to his feet. Hyrule's breath caught and he kicked his legs. Warriors swallowed back another pained grunt. These boys were going to kill him.

"Let's go!" Twilight called. His bright grin lit up his face, banishing the ever-present shadows. Time grinned at them, and Wild whooped and urged his horse forward. Everyone else immediately followed with a thud of hooves.

Warriors meant to go at a trot, get Hyrule used to it, but everyone else was galloping and he instinctively followed. Hyrule shrieked and Wind cheered. Despite the boys' lack of balance, it was easy for Warriors to keep them steady on his back as he ran. The wind whipped through his mane and his tail flowed behind him, and if Warriors had the breath and the right vocal cords, he would have laughed.

It was fine. Hyrule's startled yelling quickly changed, and he laughed when Warriors couldn't.

Wild and Time led the way, and Warriors ran alongside Twilight and Epona. Twilight grinned at them, bright and free. In response, Wind whooped and almost unbalanced himself and Hyrule. Warriors steadied them both without the pair ever noticing.

"Isn't it great, Rulie?" Twilight shouted.

Hyrule's tinkling laughter was almost lost in the wind. "Yes!"

"Faster!" Wind hooted, and what else could Warriors do but obey?

By the time they were done, Warriors was exhausted and Wind and Hyrule were sore from the unusual exercise, but no one minded. The sun was warm and the wind was perfect and carried their laughter for miles.

For that afternoon, they were free.

[muppetjokernumbersixtyninefan]

FOal tRot neiGh neIgh Vvhinny nEigh MarE FoAl troT neigH nEigh tRot. neIgh Mare SnorT neIgh gaLLop neigH cantER nEigh FOal snoRt whinnY snOrt bUck.

[cloudbug08]

Hey! I saw you were taking requests. Please could you write a cute Daryl x reader where the reader is a cowgirl? Maybe she’s sassy and rough like him or really sweet and the polar opposite - whatever you want to write for the storyline is up to you … I just love the visual of Daryl and a cowgirl! Thanks :D

Love to love you

Daryl Dixon x farmersdaughter!reader

AN: The reader is an adult, none of that creepy Daryl bs round here partner

Norman always looks a bit like a little kitten when he squints so I obv had to include that

I really love the farmers daughter/cowgirl idea, it's been my dream for years to move to the US and buy a few acres of land, build a cabin and settle down with my partner and a dog, I’ve always wanted a horse aswell (even though I’m incredibly scared of the idea of riding them 😭) so I took advantage of that in this one. Love yall hope yall enjoy!

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･ ☆*:.｡. o .｡.:*☆ ･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜

You relish in the feeling of damp summer mud in your hands, smiling at the worms squirming through it, you scoop out a small portion of dirt to accommodate a small potted butterfly weed you had been caring for since you found it in a small gardening centre when the apocalypse had first dawned, but it had overgrown its pot, time for you to properly plant it.

Hoping it’s seeds would mature and spread so you could transfer them when they had grown fully, you look up when a shadow is cast over you, confused as to where the warm sunlight had gone

You look up, Daryl is stood over you, sucking in the smoke from a Marlboro, his forehead is scuffed with dirt as he kitten squints at you, you smile brightly at your friend

“Hi Dar”

He puffs the smoke out through his nose

“Wha’ ya doin’”

You look back at your muddy hands, before you shovel dirt back onto the seams where you planted the flower

“Plantin’ a flower”

“Why”

“Well, cause it’s pretty”

You go to wipe your mucky hands on your dress before he grabs your wrist and stops you

“Don’t get your nice clothes all dirty”

He helps you up before pulling a red cloth from his back pocket, the one you distinctly remember him wiping his bike down with, he wipes the dirt off of your hands, his own are rough and warm as they hold yours gently, as though he’s afraid to hurt you.

You feel your cheeks and forehead heat up as he concentrates on cleaning your hands

“Done, clean”

He squints at you again, you shake out your nerves and muster all your courage

“Thanks Daryl”

You smile at him, leaning up to press a small kiss to his cheek, before you’re trotting away, trying to hide your heated face.

When inside you peek through your lace curtains, shy with a light feeling in your belly, feeling like a teenage girl who just saw her crush.

☆*:.｡. o .｡.:*☆

You’re panting, Dolly, your mare whinnies when you tap against her sides, trying to get her to hurry up, you belt jingles when she bounds over tree roots, you listen for grunts and gurgles, tracking the noise to where your lover must be.

Dolly slows down when you come to a clearing, you pull on her reigns, swinging her around to see a minimally wounded Daryl wrestling with a walker, you unclip your colt, a present from your father that was only meant for display, evident in the beautiful hand carved detailing running up the barrel and grip, the bullet rings out, loud, Daryl pushes the creature away, before he struggles to stand, a gash in his leg bleeding sluggishly.

You sheath the revolver, reaching a shaky hand out to the gruff man, he takes it, swinging his uninjured leg over your mares hips, she nickers, displeased, you pet a hand over her neck, turning back to smile at Daryl

“She thinks you’re heavy”

He wraps a large hand around your hip

“Shuddup’”

You cover his hand with your own before taking off with a ‘yah’ Dolly takes off, back home, You relish in the feeling of him gripping tighter

“Still scared of horses?”

You ask over the wind

“Not scared, not my fault they’re too damn jumpy”

You laugh, Before long Dolly is trotting into the stables, you hop off, smiling when Daryl grips your hand, using you to push himself off of the mares back, trailing behind you as you drag him into the cabin you call home, you settle him on your worn couch, propping his injured leg up on a pillow after managing to wrestle his jeans off.

He listens to you pat around your small home, squinting and smiling to himself everytime you stop to pull your frilled socks back up, grunting a laugh when you start to stumble from only standing on one leg.

You pad over holding a med kit and pulling out thread, a needle, disinfectant for the needle, antiseptic and bandages

“Don’t be wasting any bandages on me doll, wrap it up with the rag”

He points to the weathered red rag that hangs from his discarded jeans, your eyebrows crinkle, angrily

“No, n’ I ain’t wasting nothin’, you need em, not that gross old rag, An’ you’ll get an infection, that would be even harder to take care of”

He squints at you, displeased, but not fuming so you take that as your cue to get to work, threading the needle, you dap away at the dirt and blood that had crusted over the wound.

When you pierce the skin with the needle he tenses but remains surprisingly silent while you’re stitching him up, you swipe antiseptic cream over the closed up gash before wrapping it.

“Try not to strain it, don’t need you poppin’ the stitches”

He grunts, gingerly standing to pull his jeans back on, you smile when he notices the frayed hole in the leg of his pants

“I’ll wash and stitch the jeans up tomorrow too”

He nods, padding over to you, leaning down to press a kiss on your lips

“Thanks, babydoll”

You smile at the nickname

“No problem handsome, wanna help me with dinner?”

He grunts, following along behind you like a puppy.

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･ ☆*:.｡. o .｡.:*☆ ･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜

Sorry it’s a shorter oneshot this time yall, I hope this suited the request, thank yall for reading, reblogs are greatly appreciated, much love <3

[elizabeth-holland24]

The Beast Within-Chapter 1 (Part 2)

The air was crisp as Pete’s horse trotted along the winding forest path. The trees were thick and old, their branches intertwining above like fingers clasped in prayer. Shadows danced between the trunks of the trees, every now and then, Pete caught glimpses of creatures scurrying between the underbrush, their eyes glowing faintly in the dim light of the approaching night. The sun had long since disappeared behind the horizon, and the sky was a deepening blue, tinged with the last vestiges of twilight.

Pete’s thoughts, however, were not on the forest or its eerie stillness. His mind was on Mausi. He could still picture her standing in the doorway of their cottage, worry etched across her face. There was something in her voice when she had asked if he had everything, something that clung to him now, like a burr he couldn’t shake.

"Just nerves," he muttered to himself. "I’ll be back tomorrow with a rose, and everything will be fine."

But even as he spoke the words aloud, Pete couldn’t deny the tightening in his own chest, the way his heart seemed to beat just a little harder; as though it, too, sensed that things might not go as planned.

As the forest grew darker, the path became more difficult to follow. Pete squinted into the gloom, pulling his cloak tighter around himself as the cold began to seep in. His horse whinnied nervously, ears twitching in every direction.

"Easy, girl," he said, patting her neck. "It’s just the woods. Nothing to worry about."

But even as he spoke, he heard it-faintly between the trees. The howling of wolves, they were near; he had to act quickly. The cold air of the forest whipped at Pete’s face, cutting through his cloak as he spurred his horse forward. Behind him, the growls of wolves grew louder, snapping branches underfoot as they pursued him through the dense underbrush. His heart pounded in his chest, his breath ragged. He clung tightly to the reins, urging the horse onward.

“Come on, girl, just a little further!” Pete shouted, though fear gnawed at him. He had travelled this route dozens of times before, but never had he encountered something like this. The wolves were relentless, their yellow eyes gleaming through the shadows, their snarls a reminder of just how close they were.

The horse stumbled briefly, nearly throwing Pete from his seat, but it quickly righted itself, racing faster through the trees. Then, as if by some miracle, the forest seemed to part, revealing the faint outline of something massive ahead—a towering stone structure, its dark silhouette standing in stark contrast to the night sky.

A castle. With no other options, Pete urged the horse forward, through the grand gates that seemed to open on their own. The wolves, either out of fear or instinct, stopped at the edge of the property, howling into the night before slinking back into the woods. Pete exhaled shakily, pulling his trembling horse to a stop in the castle’s courtyard.

The sight before him was surreal. The castle stood eerily silent, as if untouched by time. Moss climbed up its walls, and the grand fountain in the centre had long since dried up, its stone figures frozen in a moment of forgotten grandeur. Despite its neglected state, the place exuded an unsettling beauty, a kind of elegance masked by years of abandonment.

He dismounted slowly, his knees shaking. His horse snorted, nervous, and Pete gave her a soft pat on the neck. "Stay here," he murmured, though he wasn’t sure if he was saying it for her comfort or his own.

As Pete stepped toward the grand wooden doors, they creaked open, as if anticipating his arrival. His heart raced, but he couldn’t stop himself from walking through them, curiosity and exhaustion driving him forward. Inside, the castle was even grander, though its beauty was shrouded in dust and darkness. Chandeliers hung high above, their crystals glinting in the faint light that filtered in through cracked windows. Tattered tapestries lined the walls, telling tales of a time long past.

Pete hesitated, his instincts screaming at him to leave, but the warmth of the castle was a stark contrast to the biting cold outside. He ventured further in, his footsteps echoing against the marble floors. As he passed through a wide corridor, he noticed strange things—a chair pushed itself back as if inviting him to sit, a broom swayed slightly as though it had been caught mid-sweep. His heart thudded in his chest, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end.

And then he heard it—a small voice, barely a whisper, but clear enough to make him freeze in place.

“Maverick…”

He spun around, his breath caught in his throat. There was no one there. Only the flickering shadows cast by the low flames of the hearth.

“Maverick…” the voice called again, softer this time, but more distinct.

His eyes scanned the room wildly until they landed on a small, delicate cup sitting on a nearby table. The cup wobbled slightly, as though alive, its tiny handle shifting ever so slightly toward him.

Pete stumbled back, his heart racing, his mind struggling to make sense of what he was seeing. This couldn’t be real. It had to be a trick—some cruel, twisted illusion.

The cup tipped toward him again, its handle like a tiny arm, and the voice came once more, this time more insistent. “Maverick…”

“Wh-what… who’s there?” Pete stammered, his voice cracking with fear. His chest tightened, and his hands shook as he backed away from the table. He didn’t wait for an answer—he couldn’t.

Without another thought, he turned and bolted, running down the corridor, his footsteps a frantic echo through the stillness. His mind raced as fast as his legs. Talking objects? Moving furniture? This place was cursed. He had to get out, had to—

But then, he saw it. Through the open archway leading to the courtyard, just beyond the doors, a single rose growing in the cracked stone garden, bathed in the soft glow of the moonlight. It was beautiful—its petals a deep, rich red, more vibrant than anything he had ever seen. He stopped, breathing heavily, his fear momentarily forgotten.

"A rose for my Mausi," he whispered to himself. That’s all he needed. A gift for his daughter. Something beautiful to remind her that even in the darkest places, beauty could still exist.

He stepped toward the rose, his hand trembling as he reached out to pluck it from its stem. But as soon as his fingers brushed the delicate petals, a low, rumbling growl reverberated through the courtyard, sending a chill down Pete’s spine.

“Thief!” a voice boomed, deep and menacing, shaking the very ground beneath his feet.

Pete spun around, his heart leaping into his throat as he came face to face with a towering figure, shrouded in shadow. The figure stepped into the moonlight, revealing itself—a monstrous creature, covered in thick fur, with eyes that burned with an angry, golden glow. It was like nothing Pete had ever seen before—half-man, half-beast, its face twisted with fury.

“You dare steal from me?” the creature snarled, its voice full of rage.

Pete stumbled back, dropping the rose in his panic. “I—I didn’t mean to… I just… it was for my daughter, I—”

“You think you can take what’s mine?” the Beast roared, closing the distance between them with frightening speed. “You will pay for your insolence.”

Before Pete could protest further, the Beast’s massive hand shot out, grabbing him by the arm with a strength that left no room for resistance. Pete’s breath caught in his throat as he was dragged deeper into the castle, the rose now lying forgotten on the ground.

The Beast’s grip was unrelenting, and as they moved through the shadowy halls, Pete realized with a sinking feeling that there would be no escape from this place. No matter how hard he tried, the Beast’s wrath was not something he could outrun.

And somewhere, faintly, he could still hear the soft, trembling voice of the cup calling his name, as though pleading for him to understand.

Mausi stood by the small kitchen window, a tight knot forming in her stomach as she watched the morning sun creep over the horizon. The sight of her father’s horse, alone and worn, grazing outside the cottage was enough to stir every fear she had buried deep within her. He hadn’t returned. Something was terribly wrong.

Her heart raced, thoughts spinning wildly in her mind. What had happened to him? The forest? Or something else, something even worse? She clenched her fists, the image of her father’s smiling face flashing in her memory as he’d promised to return.

Without hesitation, she threw on her cloak, her hands trembling as she strapped the saddle onto the horse. She could feel the dread building inside her—an unshakable certainty that this journey would change everything.

The forest greeted her with the same oppressive silence that had greeted her father. As Mausi rode deeper into its heart, the trees seemed to close in around her, their gnarled branches twisting like the fingers of some ancient creature. The air was thick with cold, mist swirling around the roots of trees, concealing the path ahead. The further she ventured, the more the world seemed to shrink into a blur of shadows, the dim light barely piercing through the tangled canopy above.

Her hands gripped the reins tightly, the sound of the horse’s hooves a hollow echo against the forest floor. She was brave, yes, but fear pulsed in her veins like a living thing. Every snap of a twig, every rustle in the bushes sent her heart racing. She glanced over her shoulder as though something—or someone—might be following her. It felt as though the forest was watching her, waiting.

Her heart pounded as she rode. The forest seemed darker now, more menacing. The wind howled through the trees, carrying with it an ominous chill. Her father’s words echoed in her mind—his laughter, his reassurance. “I’ll be back by morning, Mausi.” But he hadn’t come back, and dread began to gnaw at her from within.

The deeper she went into the forest, the more sinister it became. Gnarled branches reached out like skeletal hands, and thick mist clung to the ground, swallowing the path beneath her. The horse hesitated, but Mausi pressed forward, urging it onward with whispered reassurances. She was not turning back—not without her father.

The journey felt endless, time losing its meaning as she followed the path her father had taken. But then, like a vision out of a dream—or a nightmare—the towering silhouette of the castle appeared through the mist. Its dark turrets pierced the sky, the stone walls crawling with ivy, as if the forest itself sought to reclaim the forgotten fortress. A strange chill swept over her, the wind howling mournfully through the empty courtyard as she approached.

Mausi dismounted carefully, her eyes wide as she took in the grandeur and decay of the place. The castle loomed like a phantom, abandoned and yet strangely alive. The gates opened with a creak, welcoming her inside. She hesitated, but the sight of her father’s saddlebag, slung over the side of a nearby stone bench, made her heart lurch in her chest.

He was here.

She stepped through the grand archway, into the castle’s eerie silence. Inside, it was just as she had imagined—grand, beautiful, but undeniably haunted. Shadows danced across the walls, flickering with a life of their own as she wandered down the long, labyrinthine corridors. Cold drafts swept through the halls, carrying with them faint whispers—voices she couldn’t place.

From somewhere unseen, the sound of a hushed conversation drifted toward her. She froze, pressing herself against the wall, her breath shallow.

“She’s going to find him,” one voice muttered—low, hesitant.

“She’s not supposed to be here,” another voice responded, sharper. “Jake’s going to be furious.”

A soft chuckle followed. “It’s all part of the plan. She has to find him.”

Mausi’s brow furrowed, her pulse quickening as she strained to hear more. But the voices faded into the air, leaving her alone once more with the growing dread that crawled up her spine.

She didn’t stop moving. She couldn’t.

Eventually, she found herself at the foot of a grand staircase, its steps winding upward into a tower. Something deep inside told her this was where her father would be. She took the steps two at a time, her breath ragged as she climbed.

At the top, a heavy wooden door barred her way. She hesitated only briefly before pushing it open, her heart lurching as the sight inside met her eyes.

Her father was there, huddled in the corner of a small stone cell, his face pale and gaunt, his eyes wide with fear.

“Papa!” Mausi cried, rushing to his side. She knelt beside him, her hands trembling as she cupped his face. “What happened? Why didn’t you come home?”

“Mausi,” he whispered, his voice weak and hoarse. “You shouldn’t be here. You have to leave… before he finds you.”

“Who?” she asked, glancing around the room, fear tightening her chest. “Who did this to you?”

“You have to go,” he insisted, his eyes filled with a desperation that sent chills down her spine. “Before it’s too late.”

But it was already too late.

As Pete opened his mouth to speak, a deep, rumbling growl cut through the air, sending chills down her spine.

The growl seemed to come from everywhere at once, vibrating through the stone walls and shaking the very ground beneath her. Mausi whipped around, her heart racing as a shadow shifted in the corner of the room. A massive, hulking figure stepped into the faint light—a beast cloaked in darkness, towering and menacing.

“Who’s there?” Mausi demanded, her voice trembling despite her attempt to sound brave.

The creature stepped closer, its eyes glowing from the shadows. “A thief,” he growled, his voice low and filled with menace. “Like your father.”

“A thief?” she echoed, her gaze flicking between the Beast and her father. “What did he steal? My father’s no thief.”

“He took what wasn’t his,” the Beast snarled, anger rippling through his words. “And for that, he must pay.”

Mausi’s breath quickened, but she refused to back down. “What could he possibly have taken to deserve this?”

The Beast’s eyes narrowed. “A rose.”

“A rose?” Mausi’s voice was incredulous. “You’ve imprisoned him—for a rose?”

The Beast’s growl deepened. “He took what did not belong to him.”

“And that’s worth locking him in a tower like this?” Mausi pressed, her voice rising in defiance. “Surely, a flower isn’t worth such cruelty.”

For a moment, there was a thick silence between them, the weight of the Beast’s presence suffocating. And then, his voice lowered, filled with something far darker. “I was sentenced to something far worse… for a rose.”

Mausi’s brow furrowed in confusion, her heart pounding. There was something in the Beast’s tone, something laced with bitterness and regret. But she pushed that thought aside, focusing on the immediate danger. “What do you mean?”

The Beast stepped forward, looming even closer now, but still hidden in the shadows. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Show yourself,” Mausi demanded, her voice trembling but firm. “If you’re going to keep my father here—if you’re going to accuse him of such a crime—then at least have the courage to show yourself.”

There was a tense pause, as if the Beast were weighing her words. And then, slowly, deliberately, he stepped into the light.

Mausi’s breath caught in her throat as the Beast’s monstrous form was revealed. His features were twisted and animalistic, his face covered in thick fur, but his eyes—his eyes were human, filled with a sorrow and torment that pierced through the anger.

For a moment, they stood frozen, locked in each other’s gaze. Neither spoke, but in that silence, an unspoken understanding passed between them—a connection that ran deeper than words.

Total Word Count: 4,724

A/N: Finally, I've been trying to publish this chapter so many times. So they finally meet. Sorry if it feels a little rushed, it's just I couldn't wait for Mausi and Jake to meet. Also, sorry for any typos or misspelling. I unfortunately got sick on Wednesday morning, so I have kinda been stuck in bed with free time. Also, this story is still a readerxJake story it's just it felt weird writing Y/N so that's why I nicknamed her Mausi but if you guys prefer it I can change it to Y/N. And yeah I think that's all, the next chapter might take me a little longer since I have a physics exam on Monday, and I'm studying engineering, so I kinda have to do well and understand. I hope you enjoy it, remember to like, comment or reblog and tell me your thoughts. Love you guys <3

[hypnoneghoul]

Sundown: Chapter 5

and Mushy May '24 Day 5: Animals

WC: 800

Relationship: SwissAlps + PhantomRainDrop

Tags: Transfeminine Mountain, AU; Cowboy!Swiss x Barmaid!Mountain, Sexual Humor, Horse Racing

The feeling of wind in their faces, the rhythm of their horses’ gallops, the immaculate feeling of freedom…that’s something none of them would ever exchange for anything else.

Notes: This one is for day five of @forlorn-crows' Mushy May 2024! The prompt is animals and I had to channel my yearning for horses here lmao

Read chapter 1 here or on AO3.

Read chapter 5 under the cut or on AO3.

Mounty wakes up to something cold and…wet on her chest. Right in the middle of it, just between her tits. She yawns and tries to stretch her arms above her head, only to find out her limbs are trapped by a heavy weight sprawled out on top of her. She opens her eyes and suddenly it all makes sense.

Swiss is laying on her dead asleep, with his head shoved under Mounty’s sleepshirt. His arms are wrapped tightly around her middle and his face is right between her boobs. Drooling.

With the weight and wetness explained, Mounty chuckles and relaxes again. There’s no way she’s moving any time soon with Swiss trapping her like this.

He wakes up not long after, nuzzling his face into the barmaid’s chest and scratching her delicate skin with his stubble.

“Mmm…Momo…” he slurs and Mounty chuckles at her newest nickname; just for when they’re alone and Swiss is all soft on her.

“Good morning, darling. Fancy telling me how you ended up in there?” The barmaid smiles, even though he can’t see it. He can definitely hear it, though, and he sighs as she starts gently scratching his back, too.

“Hmpf…boobies,” he explains.

“Ah, of course,” Mounty chuckles. Now that Swiss has gotten—as he calls it—boobie privileges he doesn’t waste any opportunity to indulge himself. And the barmaid loves him too much, is too soft for him, and so she can never deny him anything.

Still, they have plans for the day, so after just a little bit more snuggling they end up at Rain’s place eating breakfast. Swiss, Mounty, Phantom, Rain, and Dewdrop are all there and even despite the lively conversations taking place, they finish eating quite quickly, ready for the more exciting part of their shared day.

They all get up and go out into the stables where Dewdrop has tacked up everyone’s horses earlier and soon enough one by one they’re climbing on. Rain laughs when Swiss winces when he gets on and sits on the hard saddle, “Mounty’s got you good again?”

Neither the man, nor his girl, answer, but their blushes tell Rain all he needs to know.

“Found out he likes it up the ass and now he can’t get enough, I bet,” Dewdrop throws in and Phantom snorts at it.

“Leave him be,” Mounty says, chuckling, as she looks at Swiss apologetically. He’s hiding a little under the rim of his hat—blushing deeply—but there’s a smile pulling at the corners of his lips.

“Just don't stay behind 'cause you got fucked good last night.” Dewdrop winks at him and his horse whinnies as if in agreement. “That’s it.”

“Sure, sure,” Swiss finally speaks. “You’re just tryna find out if you can win thanks to it.”

“Even Dew isn’t that delusional,” Rain mutters, but it’s still loud enough for all of them to hear. Dewdrop throws him an offended look, but the other just shrugs. He’s got a point.

With a few more laughs and affectionate jokes they get on the road that leads out of the little town and to a few acres of an empty space. It’s perfect for racing.

The way there is just long enough to do some walking and trotting, perfect to warm themselves and their horses up before the near maniacal galloping.

When they reach their racing spot they move to stand in line, ready to run.

“Come on, girlie,” Swiss says to his horse, leaning down over her neck to pat her encouragingly. “You’re my good girl, we ain’t ever gonna lose.”

“Should I be jealous of that horse?” Mounty whispers to Phantom.

“Hard to say,” they giggle under their breath. The both of them shake their heads and laugh, roughly preparing for the race, too.

“Done sweet talking?” Dewdrop calls out. Swiss shows him his middle finger.

But they are all ready, and so Rain begins the count, “Three.”

“Two.”

“One.”

“Go!” he yells and it’s immediately overtaken by the horses’ neighs and the booming noise of their hooves hitting the dry ground.

The feeling of wind in their faces, the rhythm of their horses’ gallops, the immaculate feeling of freedom…that’s something none of them would ever exchange for anything else. Each and everyone has it in their blood; they need it to stay alive, to stay sane.

Swiss laughs and the wind is choking him, but he couldn’t care less. He can’t not smile and laugh as he watches Mounty and her mare running side by side with him and Monty. She looks so happy it hurts, and Swiss never wants to see her less than so.

He doesn’t care much about Rain, Phantom, and Dewdrop all running just behind the other two. Or anything other than his girl, really.

They are all free and there’s nothing else that matters.

[nurse-floyd]

Nurse!reader watching rhett have a proper nasty fall and being too panicked to properly help?

The early morning sun had just begun to rise in the sky as it casted shades of pinks and oranges across the wide-open fields as you and Rhett rode side by side. He was on Toro, his beautiful black stallion and you were on Jupiter, your chestnut mare. The pair of you were rounding up the cattle and moving them to the next field over for grazing, it was a peaceful routine that you both enjoyed, you more than Rhett. It was a welcome break from the hectic life in the ER as a nurse. The familiar sound of the herd trotting along beside you, the birds as they began their morning song and Rhett at your side. It was perfect.

Rhett spurred Toro on, a few paces ahead as he guided a few stragglers back towards the main group when the stallion suddenly lurched forward and spooked. The horse reared once, twice and then bucked. You barely had time to react as you watched Rhett lurch sideways with the movement as he fell hard to the ground and landed with a sickening thud.

“Rhett!” you screamed, your voice cracking with panic as you saw him hit the floor.

The world seemed to slow around you as you watched his head slam into the earth, his Stetson abandoned at his side. You sat frozen on Jupiters back, who had clearly not had the same reaction than her stable mate. The thundering of your pulse seemed to drown everything else out, your breath caught in your throat unable to breathe as you waited for him to move and show you any sign of life. But you waited. And waited. Rhett didn’t move. You wanted to move, wanted nothing more than to jump down from Jupiter and run to his side, to check if he was alive and breathing, but your body felt like lead, your mind raced with every possibility but your body wouldn’t cooperate. You knew the signs all too well. Shock.

Toro reared again, a loud and sharp whinny came from his throat almost as if he knew and you were snapped out of your shock as. He stood in a protective stance by his master.

Your heart beat wildly in your chest as you finally scrambled down from Jupiter, nearly tripping over your feet in your rush to get to him. You called his name the whole time, “Rhett? Rhett baby, can you hear me?”

You skidded to your knees beside him. Rhett was lying on his back, his breathing shallow. A new wave of fear washed over you as you realised just how still he was.

“Rhett, baby. Please. Open your eyes for me.”

Working in an ER surrounded by rural countryside, you were not a stranger to seeing these sorts of injuries. But this wasn’t any patient, this was Rhett. Your Rhett. Sure, you’d seen him fall a fair number of times, bull riding and on the ranch, but he always got up and dusted himself off and shook it off with a laugh.

“Please, Rhett,” you practically begged. Your hands shook with your own fear and adrenaline as they hovered above his body. You knew what to do. This is what you were trained for, but it all went out of the window at the sight of him motionless.

He groaned in response, and it was enough to snap you from the fog that had clouded your rational nurse brain. You leaned over him, you hands came to rest on his chest as you rubbed gently up and down to rouse him, “that’s it baby, come back to me.”

Finally, his eyes fluttered open, unfocused at first, until they met your own. “Darlin’…? he groaned.

“Stay still, I’m just going to check you over. Let me know if anything hurts.”

You took a deep breath to try and compose yourself and allow yourself to think. You ran you hands gently over the back of his head and felt the large egg size lump that had begun to form, but with the fall he’d took, you weren’t surprised. Next you checked his neck, thankfully feeling nothing out of the ordinary.

“Just stay still, don’t move yet,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. You pulled the phone from your pocket, hands shaking so badly you could hardly unlock it. “I’m gonna call for help, alright? I’ll get Perry or your dad and we’ll get you back to the house. Just stay awake for me.”

Rhett couldn’t miss your hands as they shook, his own hand reached up to grip yours and steady them. “I’m okay,” he reassured as he tried to sit up with a wince.

“No, you’re not alright. Just stay still,” you couldn’t help the tears that began to spill over at the sight of him so hurt and vulnerable.

His hands gripped yours lightly, his touch grounding as he steadied your hands. “You’re alright. Just breathe,” he rasped as he attempted to comfort you, even in the state he was in. You squeezed his hand back, drawing strength from each other.

You took a deep breath to calm yourself before you opened your phone and put it on speaker beside him. As soon as you heard Cecilia’s voice, you calmed a little more and you were able to continue checking him over, despite the panic that still simmered beneath the surface.

You ran your hands over his body, your training coming back as your mind finally cleared. You apologised when your hands touched a particularly tender spot on his chest, knowing he’d likely cracked a rib or two. He groaned when you touched another spot on his ankle, but thankfully it didn’t feel broken.

Cecilia, ever the comforting figure in both of your lives, reassured you that Perry and Royal were both on their way in the truck as you helped Rhett sit up, finally reassured his injuries weren’t too serious. Still, you knew it wouldn’t stop you checking him over a little more thoroughly back at the house, knowing he wasn’t going to want to go to the hospital unless he absolutely had to.

Rhett reached his hand up and ran his thumb across your cheek as he wiped away a tear, still wanting to comfort you despite the face you knew he was in pain. “I’m alright,” he reassured, but you could see the pain etched into every line of his face and knew it was a lie.

As if sensing the pair of yours distress, Toro trotted closer to your side and nudged in between the pair of you.

Rhett laughed a little but groaned as the movement aggravated the pain in his ribs, “thanks for that bud.”

The horse nudged him again, still being gentle as if he knew Rhett was hurt and snorted.

“Alright bud, I’m okay. I promise. You’re not in trouble,” he reassured Toro, but you knew it was as much for you as it was for the horse. “I’m okay.”

It wasn’t long before you heard the familiar rumble of Royal’s truck as it approached. The door swung open before the vehicle had even come to a full stop as Perry ran over and Royal followed closely behind.

“Hey,” Royal called, his face etched with worry as he jogged over. “What happened?” he asked as he looked in between you and Rhett.

“Toro spooked and he hit the ground hard, think he’s got a couple of broken ribs and his ankle’s bust,” you explained, a little calmer now.

Rhett groaned, “‘m fine…,” he grumbled weakly.

“The hell you are,” Royal replied with the tone only a dad could muster.

Perry rested a hand on your shoulder in reassurance, “we’ll get him home. You go with Royal and I’ll bring Jupiter and Toro home,” he said quietly.

You nodded, still with Rhett’s hand tightly in your own and Toro close by, his large frame close enough, his warmth and presence an added comfort. Perry and Royal helped Rhett to his feet and towards the truck with you following close behind.

As they laid him carefully across the backseat, you climbed in beside him. Perry made his way back to the horses and climbed on Toro’s back and gathered Jupiter’s reins as he prepared to make his own way back. The cows would just have to stay where they were for now.

The drive back to the Abbott ranch felt like a blur. You kept your eyes on Rhett for the entire time and your hand never left his own. You knew you wouldn’t be able to rest fully until you’d checked him over thoroughly.

When you finally arrived back, Cecilia was waiting and helped you and Royal get Rhett inside, supporting him between the three of you as you made your way toward the living room.

With Rhett on the sofa, you sat on the coffee table opposite him, your forehead resting against his. You didn’t care if you cried anymore as a tear escaped down your cheek. “You scared the hell out of me, Abbott,” you whispered.

His fingers curled around yours, “I’m sorry, darlin,’ he replied, his voice barely a whisper.

Cecilia returned, a few ice packs in hand and your rucksack filled with various nursing supplies. She helped you settle him, the ice packs over the various bumps and bruises you knew were going to come out more in the next few hours. You’d check him over and fix him up, but right now you were just happy to be together and to have him safe and home.

[ellieshaze]

After Dark

{Part 3}

Ellie Williams X F! reader

Warnings: language , blood , kissing ofc , so much fluff fr , ellie is a big baby idc what y’all say

Word Count: 3k words

This probably sucks because i wrote it half asleep last night but whatever. Also, this one isn’t nsfw but the parts before are and the ones after this will be <3

Read part 2 here

It had been a few days since that night with Ellie in your bedroom, and she had been avoiding you ever since. Jackson is a small town, so she couldn’t avoid you forever, at least you thought. If you went into a room she happened to be in, she’d come up with any excuse to leave. When walking down the main street of Jackson, if you were on the same side or anywhere near her she’d go far around you. While patrolling she made sure you never got on the same patrol as her, even if it was a group. It was definitely petty but you deserved it, you had hurt her.

You wanted to apologize to her but every time you’d try and go up to her, she’d leave before you got to her. Honestly, it was kind of annoying and childish that she thought she could avoid you forever. On day four of Ellie ignoring you, you decided you’d do whatever you could to get close to her again, and try to apologize to her. “Jesse!” You yelled as you picked up pace to get to him, it was in the middle of the main street of Jackson. “Hm?” He muttered, turning around to face you. You grabbed his arm and dragged him off between two buildings, because if Ellie saw she’d know what was up. “Switch patrols with me” You said to him, he still looked confused as to why he was dragged away. “Why couldn’t you just ask me out there?” He was leaned against the side of the small shop, looking down at you.

“Doesn’t matter, can i have your patrol or not?” You asked him, feeling a little stupid for being overly paranoid. “Yeah sure.. weird that you wanna patrol so bad but whatever” Was all Jesse said before he walked away, laughing a little to himself. You made your way quickly back to your house, changing into clothes that were fit for being out in the snow for an extended period of time. You wore black jeans that were faded and torn up a little, a random long sleeved shirt and a heavy black jacket. You noticed Ellie’s gray hoodie on your bed, but you didn’t bring it, not knowing if she’d even want to talk to you in the first place. When you made it to your front door, about to leave, you suddenly got nervous. What if she refused to go and you were left to patrol by yourself or with someone you didn’t know well?

When you were finally able to build up the courage to leave your house you headed down to the stables. You expected Ellie to be there already, but she wasn’t, so you headed in for your horse. The horse you had bonded with was a paint mare, she was white with black running down from her neck all the way to the base of her tail. Her name was Eagle, she was found roaming around near Jackson, and had almost been killed by infected. “Hey girl” You said softly to the horse, you grabbed a handful of treats and held your hand out to her. She whinnied at you as she ate the treats, when she was done you grabbed onto her reins as you walked her out of the barn. You mounted your horse and sat by the gate, waiting for Ellie to show up.

You were running your hands through the mane of Eagle when you heard hoof steps approaching. You heard a grunt and when you looked up you saw Ellie on top of her horse, Shimmer. She avoided your eyes when she yelled at a woman who was standing near the weaponry by the gate, and she came quickly, two rifles in her hand. She handed one to you and then the other to Ellie before she yelled for the gates to be opened. Once the large gates were open, Shimmer raced forward, and you whistled at Eagle, indicating for her to go. Not long after, you caught up to Ellie, and your horses trotted side by side once you made it into the thick forest. You had only been out this way a handful of times, months before. “We have to make sure the town nearby is still clear.” Ellie said to you, oh how you missed her voice. Before you could respond she picked up pace, clearly trying to get this over with as soon as possible.

Once the two of you made it to the edge of the town, the two horses were now at a slow trot, unable to go fast because if they made too much noise infected nearby would hear and you’d be swarmed. You wanted to say something to Ellie as the two of you sat quietly on the backs of your horses, but you couldn’t bring yourself to. After a few minutes of silence you decided that you had to talk to her, that was the whole reason you took Jesse’s patrol anyways. “Ellie-“ You started but were cut off by the clicking sound you immediately recognized as a clickers, and your horses eyes went wide as she whinnied and began trotting faster. You gently pat your horse, trying to calm her as you got her to stop, you and Ellie both getting off your horses.

You both tied your horses in a nearby garage, closing it to ensure their safety. The clickers noise began again, it was louder and coming from a nearby convenience store, walking towards the door the both of you crouched down. Ellie glanced at you, nodding before she opened the door quietly, you made your way in quietly behind her. When you got into the store, you stood behind a shelf, looking out into the store to see two clickers, sighing as you reached for the blade in your boot. You and Ellie nodded at each other as she made her way to the one on the left, you on the right. Ellie brought hers down first, stabbing it in the neck quickly, bringing it to the ground silently. You were only a foot from the clicker when you stepped on glass, your heart dropping to your stomach.

You jumped to your feet, the clicker screaming out at you as it grabbed onto you. “Fuck!” You yelled, holding it back with your arm, but you weren’t strong enough and it knocked you to the ground. Your blade fell from your hand, now using both hands to keep the clicker off of you. Only a moment later Ellie came up, shoving her switchblade into the clickers head and pulling it off of you. “Holy shit” Ellie muttered, immediately on her knees, grabbing into your hand. Only then did you realize there was blood pouring from a wound on your hand. She began to wipe away the blood even though it was still coming out fast. “Not a bite…” She sighed, closing her eyes and you could tell she was relieved.

“It may not be a bite but I am still bleeding everywhere.” You said to her, laughing a little through the pain that now overcame you. She tore fabric from her jacket, the one she usually wore over her gray hoodie but you remembered, you still had it. She wrapped the fabric around your hand, holding onto it to keep pressure on the wound. She helped you to your feet, “We need to find something to clean the wound, Jackson is too far but there’s a house across the street. They might have something.” She picked up your knife from the floor, handing it to you and turning to walk out the door. “Ellie your back” You said to her, noticing blood seeping through her shirt on her shoulder blade. She reached a hand back and touched her shoulder, her hand covered in fresh blood. “Let’s go.” Was all she said in response before opening the door.

When you made it to the house across the street you made your way inside, Ellie ahead to make sure it was clear. She took out a stalker in the basement but aside from that, it was clear. When the two of you began to loot the rooms, she found some gauze, wrap and alcohol in an upstairs bathroom. You both ended up seated on the couch downstairs in the living room, and Ellie took your hand in hers. You watched her as she unwrapped your hand and poured alcohol onto it, you winced in pain but didn’t pull away from her grasp. You watched as she cleaned the deep gash on the palm of your hand, almost forgetting the pain as you were mesmerized by her focused face. Once she was done, she wrapped your hand with the gauze and then the tan wrap, tying it off tightly to be certain it would hold.

“Your turn” You said to Ellie as she let go of your hand gently. “I’m fine” She muttered, she wouldn’t meet your gaze for even a second. “Don’t be dumb, turn around and pull your shirt down.” You said firmly, and she didn’t object any further as she pulled her jacket off, and undid the buttons of her flannel, the one that she wore the first night everything between you began. She pulled it down on the shoulder, exposing a bloody cut on her shoulder blade, not nearly as deep as the one on your hand was. You poured some of the alcohol onto a cloth and brought it to the wound, noticing how she flinched at the sharp pain of the alcohol on a fresh cut. Once you cleaned the wound, you pulled her shirt back over her shoulder. “Can’t really wrap it because of the placement.” You as you began to shove things back into your backpack, watching as Ellie began to put her jacket back on.

Ellie was about to stand when you grabbed her hand, she stopped and just looked at you. “Don’t” She muttered, you heard some sadness in her voice, but no hatred or anger. “Please, just listen to me” You pleaded with her, and she didn’t object or move so you assumed she’d listen. “I’m sorry-“ you started but were cut off, “sorry doesn’t fix shit” Ellie snapped at you, anger was now slightly noticeable in her voice. “Just let me finish.” you said to her, your eyes not leaving hers no matter how angry and hurt they looked. She sat there, not saying another word. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have made you hide and i know i shouldn’t give a shit what people think. But i’ve seen how they’ve treated you, and i just- I don’t think i could deal with that.”

Ellie was fumbling with her hands now, something you’ve noticed she does when she’s nervous. “I don’t know how to just tell my parents, it’s weird to bring it up randomly” You said, your eyes landed at your feet, unable to even look in her direction anymore. “I’m not asking you to tell anyone.” Ellie finally spoke, “I just- don’t want you to pretend there’s nothing happening here when anyone else is around. I want to be able to be seen in public with you, i don’t want you to feel ashamed of me.” She sounded sad, you could feel her eyes on you. “I’m not ashamed of you, Ellie. I’m ashamed of myself.” Your eyes finally left your feet, meeting her sad green eyes. “Well fuck that,” Ellie said, grabbing your injured hand again, “We’re out here fighting infected, protecting that fucking town and those people. If they have an issue you can just remind them of that.”

“What if they don’t want me to be around the children anymore? I know some of them think it’s inappropriate” Ellie laughed at that, “Well they can deal with it because Maria decides on who does what and she won’t stand for that shit” You smiled at her, Maria was known to not take peoples shit and do whatever she felt was right whether it made people mad or not. “I am sorry, Ellie.” You said to her, holding her gaze, “It’s okay” Ellie said softly, she even smiled a little and it seemed to be genuine. “We should finish patrol and head back, we’ve been gone far too long” You nodded and grabbed your bag, slinging it over your shoulder.

When the two of you made your way back into Jackson, you were both smiling like idiots. When you brought your horses back to the barn, Ellie looked around for a moment before leaning in to kiss you. As much as you wanted to pull away and make sure nobody saw, you didn’t, you were done trying to be someone else. You leaned into her, one of your hands grabbing her waist, pulling her closer to you. Only a moment later she pulled away, saying her goodbyes and waving at you on her way out. “So that’s what stealing my patrol was about” You jumped, turning to see Jesse standing there, a stupid smirk on his face. “Shut up” you groaned, leaving the stables before he could say anything else.

When you got home, you had found out that there was some event going on at the main hall in Jackson. Just some dancing and drinking, these only happened occasionally, usually when things were going well and there were no recent casualties. You decided that you were going to go, because you knew Ellie probably would show up for her friends. Before you headed out, you took a shower, not wanting to smell like blood and sweat any longer. Putting on a simple button up and jeans you left your house, heading towards the hall. Your family had joined you, it seemed like most of the town was there.

You immediately spotted Ellie when you made your way inside, she was leaned against a table with a drink in hand. She was wearing a blue flannel, the sleeves rolled up and unbuttoned to reveal a white shirt underneath. You noticed she wore the same type of outfits frequently, but you definitely were not complaining. Her hair was tied up, some strands hung loose as usual, her look was so basic but it had your eyes lingering for way longer than they should. She didn’t seem to notice you as you walked up, leaning against the table next to her. “Hey” You said, looking over at Ellie. “She smiled softly at you, “Hey.” You knew that your apology earlier that day wouldn’t fix everything, and that you needed to do more to make up for your shitty behavior.

Without thinking you grabbed her drink, drinking the last of it, it was disgusting but you needed the confidence. “Hey-“ Ellie said, not seeming to be mad but more confused. You grabbed her hand and dragged her to the middle of the room, the song had ended and a slower one had begun. You pulled her into you, your arms wrapping around her neck, and hers finding their place on your waist. “This is new” Ellie said, sounding impressed. “I’ve decided it doesn’t matter what people think” She smiled at you as the two of you swayed to the music, and you couldn’t help but lean in. You tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear as you leaned in to kiss her, very aware of the fact that other people were around.

Her lips were soft on yours, her hands squeezed your waist tighter and your arms tightened around her neck. The two of you kissed for just a few more moments before pulling apart, smiling at each other like idiots. You looked around and then you saw it, a few had their eyes on the two of you, but nobody said a thing. You saw your family on the other side of the room, they were also looking at you but you didn’t see disgust or anger on any of their faces. “See” Ellie said softly. When the song came to an end and you walked away, Ellie’s hand in yours, not caring what anyone else thought in that moment. The two of you left early, walking down the snowy streets towards your house.

You leaned into her side as the two of you walked, your arms linked. “So are you my girlfriend now?” You asked her, immediately feeling stupid for even asking. “Do you want me to be?” She laughed softly, her head leaning into yours. You smiled, nodding but saying nothing more. “Then yes.” Ellie responded.

Soon you regretted not bringing a jacket with you when you began to shiver. Yes, Jackson wasn’t that big, but it was still cold as fuck. When you got to the porch you stopped, “can you stay with me?” She nodded, and with that you opened the door,walking in and slamming it shut quickly. Thankful for the warmth of the house. You grabbed her hand as the two of you made it to your room, the only lights were the blue christmas lights hanging around your walls.

When you made it to your room, Ellie immediately hopped onto your bed, getting comfortable. “Is that my hoodie?” She asked you, grabbing it off the edge of your bed. Your eyes went wide, it was so embarrassing to not only still have her hoodie, but it was in your bed, for days. “Uh-“ Was all you said, unsure of how to explain to her why you kept it in her bed instead of returning it to her. “Keep it.” She said, laughing a little at how flustered you had gotten. You didn’t say anything as you climbed onto your bed, your shoes discarded on the floor next to Ellie’s. Both of you just lied there on your sides, facing each other but not saying anything. After a few minutes you noticed she was drowsy, looking like she was about to fall asleep any moment. Without thinking, you pulled her close to you, her face leaned into your chest as she drifted off. Only yesterday Ellie was upset with you, and now she was in your bed, asleep in your arms.