#anyway I hadn't printed it anywhere

[a-ginger-snaps]

NEW WEBSITE ALERT I’ve updated my illustration portfolio and reclaimed my old domain name!! Go check it out! 

[homunculus-argument]

Oh hey random storytime:

My mother had a dog of a fairly unusual breed, the kind breed whose existence I hadn't even heard of before the breeder became a family friend. This specific dog was a zero brain cell masterpiece specimen, so while he was fucking stupid, he had an impressive enough pedigree that it would have been a waste to not take him into dog shows, maybe win a few prizes and have him sire pups.

Anyway, this one time we were at a smaller dog show, not really an amateur one but definitely not a huge international event. It was held outdoors on a football field(?), and not only was my mom's dog the only one of his breed in the show, they had somehow completely forgot to include him in the show's schedule. We had come all the way over here to show off a dog that didn't have a time, judges, or ring for him anywhere in the plans.

So while my mother isn't the type to Demand To Speak To The Manager when something doesn't go her way, everyone was in the agreement that the fuck-up was on the show runners' side, and they were very apologetic about such an unprofessional mistake. And they did manage to find a show ring with a slot to squeeze him in, just before the next breed was about to start.

So they made a quick announcement in the ring just before the scheduled breed was going to start, and into the ring went the breeder and mom's dog. And while they were doing their little lap, surrounded by a mostly quiet, uninterested audience, I heard some random kid's faint voice asking

What happened to that one?

And it suddenly hit me how funny this whole situation must look like with no context. Mom's dog or his whole breed were not on the printed out leaflet schedule of the show, in this specific ring or otherwise. If someone showed up now, or somehow otherwise missed the announcement (which wasn't even broadcasted in any way, just yelled out over the crowd by one guy), holy shit they would be confused.

The dog breed that was booked on that spot was samoyeds. My mother's dog was a peruvian inca orchid. Imagine being at a dog show in the right place at the right time, 100% expecting to see one of those fluffy clouds on the left, and out walks the motherfucker on the right.

[sungbeam]

𝐨𝐜𝐜𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐝

nonidol!eric sohn x f!reader

1.7k words, YO! SUGGESTIVE, college au, kissing, swearing, mentions of drinking, the bra comes off but nothing explicit (uh minors... DNI), his shirt comes off, barely proofread bc i wrote this on impulse and tis late for me

a/n: i let my impulsive and intrusive thoughts win.

Hands—his hands were everywhere. Anywhere he could fit his palms, his fingers against and into—every curve and crevice would not be leaving untouched. He burned his prints into your skin, signed his name with his lips, tongue, voice.

"This okay?" He murmured against the column of your throat. He could probably feel the way your pulse raced at his touch as you arched yourself into him.

Your breath hitched, his lips pressing feather-light kisses, his fingertips dancing along the bottom hem of your shirt. "More—more than okay," you exhaled, tangling your fingers in his hair.

He gave a groan of approval from the hollow of your throat, then swiftly moved back up to capture your lips for himself and steal your breath away.

(before.)

"Yn." At the feeling of a nudge to your side, you turned to your friend Jisung whose face was fitted with the widest, shit-eating grin. "You know that guy's been checking you out all night, right?"

He inclined his head toward your 4 o'clock, and you curiously followed his gaze to see what he was talking about.

You caught sight of him across the room—red ball cap, white dress shirt with nearly half the buttons undone, exposing the smooth skin beneath and the chain hanging from his collar. He nodded at you, tongue poking the inside of his cheek as he smiled.

Your heart went and did a row of cartwheels.

You and Jisung had come with a group of friends to this one party tonight. There were no expectations, really, only that you had all Rock-Paper-Scissored and Felix was forced to DD. Jisung and you had lost the others pretty fast, but you hadn't minded the bit of one on one time you got with him. (You liked to claim you didn't have favorites, but Han Jisung was a little difficult to not love.)

"You know him?" Jisung asked you after draining whatever was left in his plastic cup. He gave a grimace at the burn down the back of his throat.

"Uhm yeah, actually." You smiled, lifting a brow. "Eric Sohn. Plays shortstop for the uni baseball team." Yeah, you knew him, alright. You never missed a baseball game, even since high school, and that tradition had yet to stop in college. Sometimes, you would even go with your other friend Seungmin, if he had time. It was something that reminded you a lot of life in your hometown, where all your closest friends would hit the neighborhood field to play a round or two. Of course, constantly being in the stands meant that someone was bound to notice your presence.

Maybe he'd finally figured out you weren't there for anyone in particular.

A crease formed between Jisung's brows. "What the fuck's a shortstop?—You know what? I don't need to know," he said with a shake of his head. He turned his body toward you, extending his hand, "Dude's coming this way, so I won't step on your toes."

You passed Jisung an incredulous look, but clasped his hand with yours. "Just say you don't wanna cockblock me, Ji."

He laughed. "Hey, you said it this time, not me! Use protection, my friend," he teased, patting you on the shoulder before taking his leave and melding with the crowd.

You rolled his eyes, but your heart still thundered in your chest. Jisung said Eric was on his way over to you, and you were a little nervous to turn around and look—

"I've kind of been wondering about something."

Here he is. You whirled around and came face to face with the man in question. From up close, his jawline was even sharper than it looked from all the way up in the bleachers, his hands veiny all the way down his forearms. And his shirt seemed to be hanging on just enough to leave something for the imagination, but you were sure your imagination would be pretty on the nose anyway. His smile was even prettier this close and there was something boyish about its edge that threw you for a loop. He braced an arm against the wall next to you, and you saw the glint of his silver watch and the rings adorning his fingers.

"And what would you be wondering?" You prompted with a small tilt of your head.

"What's a girl as pretty as you doing alone all the time?" He asked. "I've been racking my brain for an explanation, and none of my teammates say they know you."

"Maybe I'm just looking for a good time," you replied airily, leaning toward him slightly. Then it came to you, the replays of him on the field, the way he so effortlessly caught your attention like he turned double plays. "And someone who knows what he's doing, I suppose."

His smile widened a sliver, following your lead. "And what can I do to prove to you that I do?"

You could smell the expensive, but subtle cologne lingering on his skin and clothes over the smell of the party around you. Your eyes darted down to his lips and you saw him do the same to you. "Come a little closer and find out."

(now.)

He was addicted to the taste of you—couldn't stop and didn't plan to stop until he traced every inch of you with his mouth. Eric had lost his cap at some point between meeting you and getting you alone in this room. It was dark, it was hot—you were hot. Your skin was on fire, there was sweat dripping down the back of your neck. Your hands were in his hair, but he wanted them on his body, in his pants, and still in his hair.

You gave a tug as he pressed his tongue into your mouth, a pretty whine coaxed from you. God, you were so pretty. So pretty and perfect and—he couldn't believe you were single.

His nose slotted against yours, his knee sliding between your thighs and keeping your knees from buckling. He kept you up by his own strength and the wall behind you.

You broke for air and he dove for your neck. "Eric," you managed to say between breaths, the top of his head tickling the bottom of your chin.

He hummed, hands squeezing your sides. "I'm gonna stick my hands under your shirt," he rasped when he pulled back to look you in the eyes, a silent question of permission.

"Be my guest."

"You're cute," he chuckled, leaning over to press a kiss to your lips.

You smiled. "I can say the same about you." You reached for his face with both of your hands, feeling goosebumps rise on your skin as his hands inched up under your shirt. "Now let me eat you up, Eric Sohn."

You could taste his laugh on your tongue. "Mmh—fuck, I like the—the sound of that."

And you were all too soon consumed and suffocating on him again, choking on the feel of muscle beneath your hands that moved to grip his shoulders; ascending, as he pressed himself against you, until no air existed between your bodies. Your mind was blank, all that laid upon your tongue was his and his name.

Eric, Eric, Eric…

"Can I take your shirt off?" You asked between kisses, catching his bottom lip between your teeth for a spell.

His forehead rested against yours, noses slotted beside each other. He braced an arm against the wall by your head while the other wrapped around your waist. "Oh my god, please."

Lazily, he kissed you again, and he somehow made your toes curl even more.

He would turn his eyes downward to watch your fingers slide each button out of its slit, the curtains of his white shirt slowly falling open. And he would find your lips again, one kiss rewarded for each buttoned freed.

Eric shrugged the garment off and it fluttered to the floor. With your eyes adjusted to the dark and the minimal light streaming in from beneath the door, you could trace the hard lines of his arms and stomach. Line by line.

"You're beautiful," you blurted out suddenly. Inwardly, you winced; dear god, you hoped you didn't just kill the mood.

Instead, though, he giggled. No one had ever called him beautiful before, at least, not to his face. Eric cupped the back of his neck with boyish glee, then moved to hold your cheek. "I'm gonna kiss you for that."

That was so fine by you.

He made good on his word and dove for your mouth, expertly catching the back of your head with his hand for cushion against the wall. And if you hadn't had the wall for support, you were certain the force of his kiss would have you bending over backwards.

Your fingers dug into his arms for good measure. Heat pooled in your belly, a fire that kept you fueled and was fanned by Eric-motherfucking-Sohn.

He groaned into your mouth, an awfully delicious sound. "Bra clasp? Wanna feel you, baby."

As everything seemed to be, permission was granted immediately.

His fingers flew up your shirt again and cupped you through your bra. You felt him wrap around your body, nimbly flicking at the clasp—

There was a hurried and loud knock on the door, and you both jolted in surprise.

"Occupied!" Eric barked, hands stilling over the place where your strapless bra had been two seconds ago.

"Eric? It's Kevin! It's an emergency." Someone's voice—Kevin's—echoed through the locked door. He didn't even bother to jiggle the handle.

You saw a muscle feather in his jaw, and he carded a hand through his damp, dark hair. Conflict flickered in his eyes, from you, to the door. "One minute, hyung."

You heard footsteps retreat from outside.

Eric leaned down and scooped up your bra and his shirt from the floor, handing you your garment with a sigh. "Sorry for cutting this short," he murmured, cupping the back of your head affectionately.

Your smile was easy, and you swiftly reset your clothes and hair. "Don't worry about it. It sounds important."

"If it's Kevin, then it probably is," he agreed. He'd finished buttoning up his shirt halfway.

When you reached for the doorknob, Eric spun you back around towards him and swooped in for a kiss that made your head spin around. His tongue swiped over your bottom lip, a last taste for now. "I'm not done with you yet, though, Yn."

You bit back your grin. "I was betting on that, Sohn."

read the sequel here!

tbz m.list

[braveclementine]

Chapter 31

Warnings: 18+readersonly, Sergeant kink, Captain kink, uniform sex, pet names, roleplay, mxm smut

Copyright: I do not own any Marvel characters or locations. However, I do own a few OCs like Elizabeth, Katherine, Stacy, and Jessie. I do not condone any copying of this.

"What are you looking for?" You asked, coming upon Bucky who was in the attic, looking through cardboard boxes that hadn't been unpacked yet. Either because they contained holiday decorations or because they were filled with people's personal knick-knacks that didn't quite fit anywhere in the house.

"Something to make Steve happy." Bucky grunted, shifting Fury's box up on top of Clint's, pulling out his own box.

"Why is he so upset?" You questioned. Steve had been rather upset after the news. It had been a week after the Supreme Court decision and something was clearly eating at your Captain.

Bucky sighed, "He's torn between doing what's right for the country and then realizing that there's nothing he can actually do. This isn't a physical fight where he picks up his shield, knocks a few bad guys heads off, and we call it a win. This is a political decision, written in law form. He can't do anything for that. Not to mention, he's also more worried about protecting you and his family than others. Family will always come first for him, so it's kind've tearing him in two."

"The thing is. . ." You said hesitantly, chewing on your bottom lip. "It's male to female partner. And most people only have one or two soulmates. Most couples have more children than that anyways. So what's the big deal about the law?"

Bucky shrugged, "When you put it like that, it doesn't seem really like anything at all. I think what's really eating at Stevie is the fact that it's corrupting people's freedom to decide how many kids they want."

"Yes, that does make sense. But America, China, North Korea, Italy, Germany, and a handful of countries in Africa are the only ones that have passed the laws so far." You said. "If it really upsets people that much, there are still quite a few countries to choose from. France for one said they were never going to make that a law. And so did Japan."

"Here we go." Bucky said, yanking out a uniform. It was pressed, crisp, and clean, but definitely aged.

"Is that your old sergeant uniform?" You asked, all thoughts of political ideas going out your head at the thought of Bucky in his uniform. You'd see pictures of course, but that was when his hair was cropped and short.

"Yes it is doll. Sam's gettin' his military outfit too. Gonna surprise Stevie. He loves when we wear the uniforms."

"So. . . roleplay?" You asked, curiously.

"Nah, we don't really do that." Bucky said, shoving the box back where it belonged, gathering up the rough fabric and cap in his arm. You walked alongside him as you exited the attic. "It's just uniform sex really."

He glanced over at you and you just smiled. "Hopefully that will cheer Stevie up then."

Bucky suddenly got a grin on his face, "Come with me doll."

You followed, wondering what Bucky was up to. You two passed Sam in the hallway. "Here, can you take this back to the room for me? I'm getting something for Y/N over here."

Sam grinned, taking the uniform from Bucky. Sam was already in his uniform, which was a black sort of camo print. It was complete with his black boots, gloves, and shoulder pards. He looked rather dashing and if Bucky was going to look anything like that you might just have an orgasm from looking at them.

Sam walked back down the hall and you hurried after Bucky again, "Where exactly are we going?"

"Right here." Bucky said, opening up one of the doors, which led into another room that you honestly just hadn't explored yet.

"What is this room?" You asked, slightly skeptical and apprehensive, looking at all the costumes that were around you.

"Wanda has been teaching Elizabeth had to create costumes and clothing from just fabric, needle, and thread." Bucky explained. Apparently he had been here often or something because he seemed to know exactly where he was going, "Most of this is Wandas, but Pietro and Hogun like roleplay and Elizabeth likes to create so there we go."

You blushed a little. You'd never done roleplay with any of them. You felt that you would die of embarrassment if you tried to act while having sex. Leave that the actors and actresses on TV.

"Anyways I actually asked her to make this for you." Bucky said, finally pulling out what looked like a very old, vintage poster type nurse outfit.

"That's for me?" You asked, raising your eyebrows.

"I figured eventually you might join us." Bucky said, grinning, though you could see the worry in his eyes. "Thought this would be cute."

"Can I try it on first before I show up to your room, in case it looks bad, ya know?" You asked, blushing. You were actually kind've excited.

The thought of looking cute and also from a time period that Steve loved best was enticing. You really did want to make him feel better and you were also kind've excited to see how the outfit looked on you.

[Minus stockings and shoes. I know it's not the sexiest costume, but it was supposed to be more 1940s. It's sexier to Steve because of the time period, not if the skirt is so high your ass shows].

"I really like it Bucky." You said, grinning as you stepped over to show him. His eyes darkened slightly.

"I'm gonna have to thank Elizabeth again." His voice was husky, wrapping an arm around you. "You look adorable doll."

You grinned before fixing the hat on your head, "I kind've feel like it's going to fall off."

"Don't worry, it won't." Bucky grinned. "Now, c'mon. We want to get back to the room before Steve, don't we?"

You and Bucky quickly hurried out of the room- though Bucky left a note for Elizabeth to let her know we stole the outfit. Apparently she got very moody when stuff was rearranged or taken without her notice. She had a slight OCD problem and pet peeves about her stuff.

Needless to say, the two of you got back to the room before Steve. Sam was waiting, standing by the window, leaning out. "He's not back yet."

"Where did he go?" You asked, making Sam turn around. He started to grin as he looked at you.

"He's walking Ginny. He loves that dog." Sam said.

"Maybe we'll get another puppy." You said thoughtfully. "I think Fury feels outnumbered with the kittens."

Bucky grinned before he undressed. You and Sam talked while he got dressed in the Sergeant uniform. You were a bit nervous, knowing he was going to look absolutely delicious.

You swallowed hard when you came face to face with Bucky. He looked so absolutely delicious. The only difference between him now and before was the long, shoulder length hair. But he still managed to get that cap perched jauntily on his head.

"You broke her Buckaroo." Sam grinned before kissing Bucky's cheek. "She's stunned."

"It's only revenge." Bucky said, shrugging his shoulders as he grinned, "She broke me for a moment when she put on that nurse uniform."

You finally said, "You look dashing Buck."

"Is that right?" He grinned, one hand placed firmly on the wall behind you, the other hand wrapping around your waist. "Well you look so innocent in that lil' nurse outfit. I can't wait to rip it off of you and ruin you."

"Elizabeth will kill you." Sam stated simply behind him while you felt yourself getting wet at his words.

"That's true." Bucky said seriously, "And I don't fancy facing her ice storms."

He winked at you before kissing you.

"Captain Rogers is home Mr. Wilson." F.R.I.D.A.Y. said suddenly.

"She's not going to record this, right?" You hissed at Bucky, suddenly realizing just how many times with just how many people in just how many rooms you'd had sex. F.R.I.D.A.Y could've recorded any number of them- video and audio.

You were going to have to speak to Tony.

But after you had amazing sex with your soldier boys.

You laid down in the middle of the bed, Bucky sitting behind you so that your head lay in his lap. Sam was laying on his side next to you, lightly running his fingers up and down your arm.

You could feel a coil of anticipation in your stomach. What if he didn't like it? What if he only wanted it to be a thing between the three of them? What if he wasn't in the mood for any of you and Sam and Bucky got hurt feelings?

"So anxious doll." Bucky mumbled into your hair, "What's wrong?"

"Just worried I could be intruding." you mumbled, feeling slightly self-conscious now. "Or that he won't be in the mood and will hurt your guys' feelings too."

Bucky chuckled, "Believe me doll, even if he's not in the mood at this moment, he will be once he steps through that door. He can't resist the uniforms."

You could hear heavy footsteps now walking down the somewhat quiet hallway. You heard his open the door and Steve stepped through it.

He looked absolutely worn out and frustrated. He stopped completely upon seeing the three of you in his bed.

The exhausted expression on his face lightened, a smirk curving at his lips. He slammed the door shut, stalking towards the bed, "F.R.I.D.A.Y. lock and soundproof the door and room." Steve commanded and his voice was already dripping with so much dominance, you shivered a little.

You could hear the sounds of the door locking while a faint sheen moved across the walls, sound-proofing the room just as Steve asked.

Steve's eyes trailed over all three of you before landing on you. "You look stunning baby. Come here."

You quickly moved away from Bucky and Sam, feet hitting the floor. Steve drew an arm around your waist, pulling you in for a hungry kiss. You fingers carded into his hair as he leaned you back a little, deepening the kiss.

Steve pulled away from your lips, attacking your neck with sharp, sweet bites, leaving hickies everywhere he could reach.

"Leave us some room." Sam joked, still on the bed.

Steve huffed, pulling away from your neck. "On your knees cookie."

You dropped immediately, knees hitting the white carpet. You weren't wearing knickers- as they would've been easily seen through the white fabric of the nurse uniform- and you could feel yourself getting wetter and wetter, staring up at Steve.

"Buck, Sam, get over here now."

They both complied rather quickly, standing on either side of you. Steve unbuckled his pants, letting them drop as he kicked them away. You could see the huge bulge against his black boxers, eyeing it like a prize.

Steve took your chin into his hand. "Go on."

You pulled his boxers down, releasing the delicious appendage, before taking him into your mouth.

"Good girl." Steve praised, butterflies dancing in your stomach. "Buck, you know what to do."

You could sense Bucky moving around behind you, but you weren't entirely sure what he was doing until you felt hot breath fan across your pussy. Then you felt his tongue lick through your folds and he groaned, vibrations shot straight to your clit.

You groaned as well, taking as much as Steve as you could, one hand bracing against his thigh as Bucky continued to eat you out, the other moving to massage his balls, want to help him release as fast as possible and not draw it out.

Sam stood to the side, growing more and more needy, keeping his mouth shut.

"Is there a problem Sammy?" Steve asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"No Captain." Sam muttered darkly.

Your giggled at Sam's sullenness was muffled by Steve's cock. Steve threw his head back, groaning as your vibrations sent tingles through his entire body. His hands grasped your hair, his hips lightly thrusting as he started to take control. You went with it. Today was all about Stevie.

Bucky sped up his ministrations on your pussy, holding your hips down so that he had better access. This gave a wonderful angle for Steve to just plunge his dick down your throat.

You were a mess, knot forming in your stomach, whining around Steve's cock. Your nails dug into his thighs as your orgasm approached, trying not to stop your tongue from delivering Steve his pleasure while yours approached.

"Look at me doll." Steve demanded. Your eyes snapped upwards, meeting his and you felt his cock twitch inside your mouth. You gave it a good suck, releasing all over Bucky's face with a mewl. Steve kept his gaze on you, knowing he wasn't going to last long with those innocent E/C eyes staring up at him while performing such a wonderful dirty deed.

Indeed, almost seconds after Bucky finished lapping up your essence and moving out from underneath you- almost making you collapse from a sudden lack of support- Steve released inside your throat. You swallowed the hot salty cum before pulling off Steve's dick.

He immediately yanked you to your feet, smashing his lips to yours. When he pulled apart, he commanded in a deep whisper, "Go kiss Buck now."

You sauntered over to Bucky, wrapping your arms around his neck, kissing him deeply. He moaned, gripping you tightly with his metal and flesh arms.

Sam let a whine slip from his throat and You and Bucky broke apart. Steve stalked over to Sam, "There a problem?"

Sam shifted on his feet. "C'mon, Stevie. I want to join in."

"Do you know why I'm not letting you join in?" Steve asked.

"Because I spoke out of turn." Sam replied.

"Damn straight." Steve said. "Are you going to do it again?"

"No Captain." Sam said quickly.

"Strip. Not you Y/N." Steve said, coming over to you as Bucky and Sam quickly started getting rid of their uniforms. "How 'bout you help Bucky out with his uniform, hmm cookie?"

"Yes Captain." You whispered, reaching out and started untying Bucky's olive green tie, before drawing it away from his neck. Unbuttoning his undershirt as he got rid of the top jacket, belt, and started to undo his dress pants. Once he was fully naked, you stepped back, waiting for Steve who was helping Bucky out.

All three of them were completely naked, and the only thing you were missing was your nurse hat, though you weren't sure when you had lost it.

"On the bed sweetheart." Steve said and you quickly got back up on the bed, the other three surrounding you. Steve knelt in front of you, unbuttoning the nurse uniform, turning to Bucky, "This one of Elizabeth's?"

"Yes, don't rip it. She'll turn us into ice cubes." Bucky replied.

Steve sighed, "Pity. I wanted to rip it off her delicate body." He lifted the nurse outfit up over your head, kissing you on the lips. "But I guess you'll be able to wear it again now."

You grinned. "That's the plan. I think."

Steve slapped your ass gently, but firmly. "Hands and knees sweetheart."

You did as asked.

"How about you suck Sammy off while Buck and I take care of you over here." Steve asked, running two fingers through your sopping folds. He chuckled, "So wet sweetheart."

You opened your mouth as Sam knelt in front of you. He placed his large hands calmly on either side of your face, kissing you on the forehead. "Gonna treat you good baby."

You could feel the bed dipping down and around as Steve and Bucky figured out who was going where, doing what. Finally, you found Steve sliding under you, pulling your hips down slightly. He moved his cock through your folds before pushing in.

You moaned around Sam's cock, feeling completely blissed at the moment. Bucky's metal fingers gently started scissoring your ass as he prepared to take it. It was gentle motions and after so many months, it was getting less and less painful each time.

Sam was getting close, you could tell with the way that his long length was twitching in your mouth.

"Pull off Sammy." Steve demanded, reaching up to cup your throat. You quickly pulled off, trying not to give Sam any more pleasure while doing so.

Sam looked like he wanted to curse Steve out, but held his tongue, looking slightly annoyed. Steve pulled you down to kiss you, lifting your ass a little bit before Bucky pushed into you from behind.

"Oh fuck!" You gasped against Steve's lips, nipping his bottom lip a little. Steve continued to rut up into you while Bucky moved slowly in and out of your ass. Sam was clutching his thighs in his hands, trying his damned hardest not to start stroking himself. You looked like a fucking angel to him and his boys looked so damn good.

His mouth got him in trouble a lot in bed and he always wished he could remember the punishment before he moved his mouth.

Steve left large hickies all over the front of your chest, just adding to the purple bruise like spots on your neck. You could feel Bucky pressing startling soft kisses to your back.

"Fuck, Captain, Sergeant! I'm gonna cum. Please can I cum?" You begged, squeezing tightly around Steve's cock as you both tried to stall and please Steve at the same time.

"Fuck sweetheart." Steve groaned, hands running all over your body as he rutted his hips up to grind against you, "That's it cookie. Cum all over my cock. Show me you're my little whore."

His words were all it took to release all over his cock, one of your best orgasms ever really.

Steve thrusted even faster, working you through your orgasm while Bucky chased his own release. The pleasure and complete fullness was overwhelming and delicious. Steve finally shot up inside of you, making you mewl when he bit down on your shoulder- gently.

Bucky grunted, pulling you upwards as Steve slipped out of you, now pounding into you from behind as he held you in his arms. "Sarg!" You gasped as he twisted your nipples between his fingers.

"Let go for me doll. Show 'em I can fucking ruin you without even giving you anything to ruin you with."

Bucky's words were growled and dark as he thrusted harshly upwards, releasing into your ass while you let go, coming for a second time, without anything to clench down upon.

Bucky chuckled as he pulled out slowly, kissing your neck.

Sam was even harder than before, watching his boys completely ruin you while he wasn't allowed to touch you. He could, of course, get you alone without the other two, though his punishment would be worse if they found out he'd fucked you without them.

It might be worth it though.

"Sam." Steve said.

"Yes Cap?"

"You've been doing pretty good now." Steve complimented, "What do you want to do with her?"

Sam grinned, "Wanna overstimulate her."

A slow smile started moving over Bucky's face too and you shivered in anticipation.

Steve looked at Bucky, "You know what to get."

Bucky moved off the bed, going over to the closet, kneeling to pull out a box on the floor.

"Look at me cookie." Steve demanded and you quickly turned to look at him. He pulled you into another kiss, before you felt the bed dip again, lots of cold metal being placed on your stomach, making you shiver.

"If you're not okay with anything, you tell us, okay baby?" Sam cooed, running his hands up your legs. "And if you feel somethings to much or you want to stop, you use the word 'time'."

You nodded, feeling medium sized rope being looped around your wrists as Bucky tied them together, before tying them up and around the headboard of the bed.

Steve took fabric from your side, tying it gently behind your head.

You heard metal clinking, before there was a pressure on your nipples, making you gasp at the sudden sensation.

"How are you doing baby?" Bucky asked, tugging the nipple clamps a little bit.

"Good." You murmured, both turned on, excited, but also a little nervous.

"Well, go on Sam." Steve smirked. You could feel Steve moving so that he had settled behind you slightly. He ran his hands up and down your sides, a comfort, before you felt Sam push into your pussy.

"Fuck." Sam groaned sensually, tossing his head back as he felt your warmth encase his pulsing cock. "You feel so good sugar."

You felt a metal and flesh hand on your hips now, someone straddling you slightly, situating themselves lightly below your breasts.

The metal and flesh hands moved to push your breasts together and you could feel someone's cock- most likely Bucky by the metal hand- between them.

"Fuck doll." Bucky drawled. "I'm gonna fuck these perfect tits."

You whined, wishing you could see Bucky as he started to massage your breasts, thrusting his hips lightly. Steve's hands rubbed circles on your shoulders and Steve's touch brought you back to reality. "Wait."

Bucky and Sam stilled, but didn't pull away as you hadn't used the safe word.

"Something wrong cookie?" Steve's voice had a hint of worry in it.

"No, but I thought. . . thought today was all about Stevie. Making sure you're okay." You mumbled, tilting your head back as though you could see him through the blindfold. "Want to please you Captain."

Both Bucky and Sam started moving inside of you again so you assumed Steve had told them to resume nonverbally.

"Letting me do whatever I want to you is pleasing me." Steve purred lowly in your ear before both Bucky and Sam started to speed up, making you moan. You could feel every sensation now with your eyesight gone.

The tickle of Sam's beard whenever he bent low, brushing against your stomach. Steve's hair tickling around your ear as he whispered against your shoulder. The callouses on all of their hands- minus the cool smoothness of Bucky's metal hand- as they touched you. How Sam's cock felt inside your cunt as he split you apart. How smooth and wet Bucky's felt as he fucked your breasts. The weird, but pleasing sensation of your breasts being squeezed and pushed together.

How the knot was building up in your stomach, the way that it was making your toes curl and you strained against your bonds as you tried to pull away.

"Fuck! Sammy, gonna cum!"

Sammy quickly sped up, reaching over and you could hear him getting something else. "FUCK!" You moaned as you released all over his cock.

"Good job sweetheart." Steve murmured in your ear. "Gonna let you see now."

He undid the black cloth, letting it fall over on the side of the bed. You could now see Bucky in front of you and you dipped your head, opening your mouth. As he pushed upwards, you flicked your tongue out, making Bucky groan at the teasing of his slit. A few more of these and he came all over your face, in your mouth, and on your breasts.

"You look beautiful doll." Bucky teased, grabbing a cloth to wipe away semen from around your eyes, but left everything else messy.

He moved off and you could now see what Sam had in his hands- which were some sort of beads on a rope. They started out small before getting larger and larger.

"You want to try those out?" Steve asked in his ear.

"What are they?" You asked curiously.

Sam chuckled, "Oh you're so innocent babe. They're anal beads."

You assumed they were exactly as they sounded. Beads that would go into your ass.

"I would like to try them." You said shyly.

Steve kissed the top of your head, "Remember your stop word, alright?"

You simply nodded, not wanting to actually say it aloud in case they took it as a sign that you wanted to stop.

"Good girl." Bucky murmured before he flipped you over so that you were on your stomach now. Your hands were still tied to the bed, but it wasn't uncomfortable. Although you could feel a slight contrast of your nipples against the bedsheets, as they were still clamped.

"Gonna tell us when to stop." Bucky murmured, petting your hair back as Sam pushed the first ball in.

It really didn't hurt and it even felt good in a weird way. There was a type of fullness that came with it, especially the bigger the balls got. Finally, it got to a point where the last one you had taken was just slightly to big and you weren't sure you could take another. "That's good." You said.

Sam laughed, "That was the last one baby."

"Oh."

Steve chuckled, kissing your cheek. "Such a good girl for us, hmm?"

"For you, mhmm." You nodded, looking up at him through your long lashes. It made his heart flutter when you looked at him like that, especially with your ass in the air, the pink handle to pull the beads out sticking out a bit. The metal underneath you, your nipples a lovely pink colour. Your pussy dripping for him and his boys. It looked as though the last thing to use on you was. . . a vibrator. Sam really was going all out tonight.

"Want the honors Stevie?" Sam asked, holding the silver and blue vibrator out to him, moving to kneel in front of you, bringing you just slightly upwards so that your elbows were resting on his thighs. This alleviated some of the pain in your breasts, though it kept you in a position where your pussy was presented to Bucky and Steve beautifully.

"My pleasure." Steve said, moving to angle himself just right, pushing into you. You moaned, shivers going down your spine. His hand moved to wrap around your waist before you heard buzzing and immediately jolted when he touched the vibrator to your clit.

You squirmed, moaned, mewled, and came over and over again as Steve and Bucky took turns fucking you relentlessly, rarely removing the vibrator as they did so. You were starting to go high up into the clouds, as you came again, toes curling. Sam simply held your upper body, occasionally pulling on the nipple clamps.

Nearing the last orgasm of the night- afternoon? Morning?- He unclipped them and you uttered a tiny scream as the blood rushed back to the sensitive nubs. You completely collapsed into Sam's arms while the other two finished riding you out.

You could just barely feel Bucky pulling out while Steve gently removed the beads. Bucky headed to the bathroom and Steve untied your hands before rolling you onto your back to face him.

His face was flush, his hair a mess, and there was a cheeky grin on his face. "How are you holding up sweetheart?"

"Good Stevie." You mumbled, voice hoarse from screaming all of their titles over and over again, with a handful of curse words mixed in.

Steve kissed your forehead, taking the washcloth from Bucky. "How 'bout we all go and take a bath together, hmm?"

You just closed your eyes, tired, giving a small nod. Sam picked you up and carried you over to the bathtub. The four of you took a nice bath, before climbing back into bed, and promptly falling asleep. 

[bluestar22x]

Finding Eden: Chapter 3

Summary: You and Zach have a confrontation with the Canadian Border Patrol

Pairing: Zach Wellison x F!Reader

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Fowl language, violence, mentions of blood, hurt/comfort, pov changes

Word Count: 3,250(ish)

Author's Note: A little late posting this with my major writer's block and real life kicking my ass, but it's here!

xxx

You weren't sure what you'd been expecting, but it wasn't what you'd found.

There was no river separating Washington state from Canada, no fence, no rock wall. Just a simple but obvious line of dirt and grass through the thick forest both countries shared. A line that had once been completely void of trees, but had quickly been invaded by young saplings and stubborn weeds that loved to grow just about anywhere.

You only knew it had been treeless once because Zach had told you so.

"You didn't know what the border looked like?"

"I never looked it up," you'd replied. "My family never visited Canada and my school never taught it."

He pursed his lips. "Huh, I always thought it was common knowledge."

You didn't think he'd intended to make you feel stupid, but you'd felt foolish anyway. Your eyes darted away from his, and you distracted yourself by stroking Athena's head as heat rose to the surface of your cheeks.

"Nightfall should be in a few hours," Zach pressed on, oblivious to your embarrassment. "We should catch some shut eye. It's going to be a long night."

Anxiety replaced your self-consciousness, something like dread sinking low into the pit of your stomach as you nodded at him in agreement.

Rest would make your mind sharper, and you knew you'd need all your brain power if you ran into trouble on the other side of the line.

Something in your gut told you it wouldn't be easy.

If only your gut hadn't been right.

x

Zach woke up to booming thunder and heavy rain, unpleasant sounds in any survival scenario, as far as he was concerned, but especially on that particular night.

A storm meant muffled sound. A storm meant a darker night. A storm meant boot prints that could be followed.

"Maybe we shouldn't leave tonight," you murmured as you sat up beside him, still in your sleeping bag just as he was.

"The longer we stay here, the more we risk being noticed by a border patrol officer," Zach stated with a sigh. "And I don't wanna turn back. Let's wait for the rain to slow down and head out."

"Okay," you said quietly with no hint of a protest.

It bothered him, how quickly you'd come to trust his judgement in less than a week. He didn't feel worthy of it. Not that night.

He'd never tried to cross a border illegally before, had never done anything illegal back when it mattered. Even when he'd thrown fists while he was living out on the streets, it had always been in self defense. He'd always had a temper, but he had managed to restrain himself most of the time to avoid attention from law enforcement.

Technically he had broken one rule because he had loitered many times, but fuck that law. He'd always thought it was just used as an excuse to shoo homeless away like they were unsightly vermin, even though during after hours there were no customers to scare away.

He knew how to be sneaky, it was part of his training in the marines, and he'd put it to good use on the streets so he could linger in places people didn't want him to in order to stay warm, but this was different.

He was going into hostile territory, the kind where he could end up dead, and he had no real back up. You were solely relying on him to get you both to safety and he felt the weight of that responsibility. He was the one who'd suggested you come with him, after all.

At least you knew how to handle a gun.

You dozed back off while waiting for the weather to calm, Athena's head resting on your covered ankles, also asleep, but Zach stayed wide awake, his nerves stealing away any drowiness that had been left in him.

Nearly an hour later the downpour turned into a drizzle and the thunder quieted into the background.

He shook you awake gently. "Time to go."

You nodded at him drowsily and for a brief moment he could see fear flash in your eyes before you masked it with bravery. For some reason it made him feel proud.

Neither of you talked much as you shoved your belongings back into your bags, packed up the tent, and scarfed down some cold canned veggies once again before making your short trek to the border.

Standing inches from the invisible line drawn through the stripped down patch of forest, apprehension stole Zach's breath. His eyes darted towards your form beside him, your company now a reassurance, and he found your eyes watching him, the same emotions he felt mirrored in them.

"Ready?" he questioned, not sure if he was asking you alone or also himself.

You gave him a curt nod. "Ready."

Together, shoulders almost brushing, you made the crossing.

x

You found immediate relief when you entered the thick growth of trees on Canada's side of the border, but you did not allow yourself to fully relax. At any moment you could come across a mounted officer riding along the line and you knew full well the interaction would not be pleasant if you and Zach were caught, even if your lives were spared. If.

Canada had been hit hard during the third war and the following years, but it hadn't become lawless like the United States. In fact, it had become more strict, and their government had a zero tolerance law for anarchists. Since they'd deemed most Americans anarchists after the riots, they would not let any into their country without heavy vetting that made it basically impossible for them to be permitted to do so, nevermind gain citizenship.

To the Canadian border patrol, it was much easier to shoot an American than go through the trouble of vetting them. Especially if they were crossing illegally.

The oversaturated ground squelched under your boots but the sound was thankfully muffled by the pitter patter of rain that was still coming down.

Your lungs ached from how often your breaths were catching and you had to remind yourself to breathe without gasping when you remembered how to properly do so.

You let Zach lead the way, giving him a yard's gap, but both your weapons were out, ready to be fired if need be.

He was as tense as you were, alert even more so, eyes constantly scanning your surroundings, peering into the dark forest intensely despite not being able to see much without a moon or stars to light the night.

You didn't see or hear your worst fear until it was too late.

"Hey!" A man shouted in the distance as you, Zach, and Athena were ambling over the first two lane road you'd come across since entering the country.

You snapped your head in the direction of the voice, spotting a uniformed middle aged man on a large black horse charging at you from a quarter mile down the road.

Your mouth went dry and like a deer in headlights you froze, even though your mind was screaming at you to run. Even though you could hear Athena barking in warning.

Three pairs of eyes and ears and the patrol had still managed to notice you first.

Stupid storm.

You felt Zach yank your right arm hard, dragging you into the cover of the evergreen forest, and your legs started functioning again, pumping hard to keep up with his longer strides.

The thick brush didn't stop the mounted officer from trailing you, his horse barreling through the branches in their path at an alarming speed. You didn't look back, but you could hear the horse's hoof beats getting louder and louder.

The horse and rider were closing in when you crashed into Zach, who had suddenly halted in front of you.

"Why'd you stop?" you nearly screamed, panicked.

He was starring ahead, hands raised, his gun slung over his shoulder uselessly, and your eyes tracked to where he was looking.

Another mounted officer, this one on a chestnut horse, was blocking your path from a few yards off, his shotgun aimed at Zach's chest.

"Where did you think you were going?" the second man growled furiously.

Zach's eyes darted away from him briefly, to his left, and you noticed the thick brush there, just as you assumed he had.

He tugged on your sleeve in the same direction, confirming it without words. Giving you a heads up in one quick gesture. Warning you about what he was going to ask you to do.

"RUN!" he shouted.

You both bolted for the brush, and you heard the second officer's shotgun discharge. You flinched instinctively but kept going. More shots rang out.

Everything was a blur around you as you ran for your life, breaths puffing out of you painfully, heart pounding against your rib cage.

You could hear both patrol officers shouting to each other and their horses' snorts as they struggled to maneuver their massive bodies through the dense foliage, the trees' bendy branches snapping back into their riders' faces and chests painfully as they weaved around their trunks.

You tripped over a loose rock almost as big as your foot and felt your ankle flare with pain, but you pushed yourself to keep going, knowing that if you stopped to rest it you wouldn't have time to heal before a bullet was embedded in your head or chest.

Luckily it didn't hurt for long.

Your ankle was better by the time you and Zach reached a cliff side a few minutes later. However, while you were more than ready to speed around it in an attempt to put more distance between you and the officers on horseback, he was looking up.

"If we can climb this, we'll lose them," he told you confidently.

"We don't have climbing gear."

He pointed at a dip in the rock, a path that slowly winded up the cliff. It couldn't be natural, but it must've been made a long time ago, judging by the weathered state of the gray rock.

You pursed your lips, unconvinced. "I'm never this lucky."

"Let's go."

Zach stepped ahead of you to start the climb but you halted him, arm out, mouth agape. You'd finally noticed the patch of dark crimson seeping through his shirt at his left shoulder.

"Did you get shot?" you asked in dismay. You felt a swoop in your stomach, as if it had dropped.

"It went through and through," he answered through gritted teeth. "I'll survive."

"Not if we don't get that bleeding to stop," you hissed, forcing yourself to stay quiet when you wanted to shout. "I'm watching the blood stain on your shirt grow in real time."

"Can't stop here," he insisted. "We've got to get higher up first."

You gave him a disapproving look but allowed him to continue forward, knowing that arguing with him would not accomplish anything. He had that stubborn look in his eyes many people got when they'd made their final decision.

The path was narrow, maybe six inches across, but you were able to follow Zach up slowly with Athena tailing you. Everyone, even the dog, was careful as you all made your way to higher ground. You made sure not to look down the entire time, not wanting to risk your old fear of heights suddenly springing forth.

You were about five minutes in and the rain had just ceased when you reached a flat area carved into the rock big enough for a couple small tents to fit, the perfect stopping point, and it wasn't a moment too soon.

Zach had just managed to wrestle Athena out of view of the ground below when the mounted officers found their way to the cliff.

"They must've gone up there!" the second one exclaimed.

"Fuckin' Americans," you heard the first one grumble. "Forget them. The horses can't get up there and I'm not waiting them out in this damn forest all night. We'll call it in."

The second one hummed his agreement and you breathed a sigh of relief when you heard the sound of their horses' hooves fading as they trotted off.

You were so relieved you forgot Zach was injured until he prompted himself up against the backside of the tiny safe zone and groaned loudly.

When you glanced at him his eyes were closed tight, painfully. He was holding his right hand to his wound, trying to put as much pressure on it as possible in his current state. He looked far too pale and shaky for your liking.

You knelt beside him quickly, shrugging your backpack off to search for the medical supplies you'd had on you for weeks. You scrambled to pluck out all the items you thought you could use to treat his wound. Your filled spare water bottle, a few packaged gauze pads, medical tape, medical bandages, and a tiny set of scissors.

You'd never dressed any wound before, let alone a bullet wound, but you'd watched enough reality medical shows back in the day to have picked up a few things.

"Need to take off your shirt," you informed Zach.

"Not even gonna let me take you out on a date first?" he quipped, choking on a chuckle.

"We've already had several meals together and shared a tent the past five nights," you stated, playing into his jest, knowing his type. You'd been raised by one after all. "Don't be shy now."

He gawked at you for a second, surprised by your engagement in his banter, then broke out into a weak grin. "Shy is definitely one thing I'm not."

He nodded at you to go for it and you carefully unbuttoned the olive green button down shirt he'd put on the previous morning before gently removing the damp clothing from his body and setting it down on a boulder beside you as he automatically covered his injury with his right hand again.

"Let me see," you ordered him as you peeled his hand away from it.

The blood had already slowed down quite a bit, a promising sign, but you'd still need to take care of both sides of his wound to minimize the chance of it getting infected.

You used the water on it first, not being shy about pouring the whole bottle out over Zach's damaged shoulder. He winced but took it silently, watching as you worked.

You taped a couple squares of gauze pads onto his exit wound then the front after drying the area off with a clean cotton cloth, or as clean as it could be hanging out in your pack. The final touch was the ACE bandage you wrapped around both his upper arm and across his chest a few times. A technique for bandaging shoulders that you hoped would add enough pressure to completely stop the bleeding and stabilize his arm long enough for it to begin healing.

"Not bad," Zach decided after examining your handiwork. "You ever take a First Aid class?"

"Nope, learned that from the Health channel," you declared.

He gave you a crooked smile. "Who says TV was just mindless entertainment?" He glanced down at the bandage again. "Thanks."

"No big deal," you said. "Least I could do after everything."

Your eyes fell on his bare upper body and for the first time since you'd removed his shirt you dared to let them linger, noting his shaved broad, carved chest and lean waist. Your friends in high school had once called men like him Dorito shaped, and you all had found it very appealing. You still did, finding it necessary to swallow before you could look at his face again.

Your mouth was dry when you spoke. "Do you have any shirts in your pack that might be more clean than the others?"

"The gray Henley," he replied.

You searched his pack for it, slowly helping him ease into it, then his fleece jacket, trying to ignore the jump of his biceps under your fingertips as you did so.

"I'm going to pitch the tent," you informed him after, in a tone that didn't allow room for arguing. "Stay put for now. Let the bandage do its job." You glanced over to Athena and pointed at Zach. "Make sure he doesn't get up yet."

The dog stoically ambled over to his side and laid down against his right hip, head resting on her paws, but eyes still wide and alert.

"Good dog," you murmured.

"That she is," Zach agreed proudly, curling his right arm around her, dried bloody hand and all. "You sure you don't want any help?"

"I know how to set up a tent," you told him. "I need you around for other reasons. So rest up."

"You say that like it'll be easy with a throbbing shoulder," he muttered before shutting his eyes, and you had to wait and observe his chest quietly rising and falling a few times before you were assured enough that he would be alright to turn your focus to the tent.

It took you a while to pitch it by yourself, you'd never done it alone before, but you managed with your limited limbs and knowledge.

Once it was finished and you had switched into a dry orange cotton shirt and a jean jacket you'd found before you met Zach, you strolled over to him. At some point he had actually fallen asleep, despite the pain he was in. You squatted down next to him and woke him with a small squeeze to his right arm.

"Still got an hour or so before dawn," you estimated as his eyes fluttered open. "Let's get into the tent where it's warmer and sleep a little longer."

He mumbled his agreement and you assisted him up onto his feet, letting him lean on you a bit, his legs still a little shaky from the blood loss.

He was so warm you shivered once he parted from you to crawl into his sleeping bag. Not even your own bag could keep the night's chilly damp air from seeping into you again and your teeth were chattering after a few minutes of lying there in the dark. You were tempted to go outside and start a fire, but you didn't want to attract unwanted attention with the smoke. You didn't want the officers to know exactly where you were.

Zach was sound asleep again, clearly too exhausted to be conscious for long, but Athena noticed your shaking and stood so she could snuggle up against you instead of her usual spot right in the middle of you both. You smiled as she plopped down practically on top of you before turning over and burying your nose into her neck.

You did your best to not allow your lips to quiver as her body heat warmed you back up and your mind recounted the night's events with all its horrifying highlights.

You were safe. Athena was safe. Zach was alive and already looking healthier, though he was still weak and in a lot of pain. Your trio being alive was all that mattered. That and the fact that the officers would not be there to trail you in the morning. You repeated those assurances in your head over and over like a mantra.

Eventually you repeated it so much the tears that had threatened to fall dried under your closed eyelids and you were able to slip into a dreamless sleep.

Athena didn't budge the entire time you slept.

xxx

Tagged: @morallyinept @harriedandharassed @love-affair-with-fandoms @captain-jebi

xxx

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

xxx

[landofsamurai]

@jiraipink asked:

(For any muse you feel writing this for!)

Can women ever catch a break with these degenerate men?

Namida was on her way to Kagura's place to play that new video game Kamui bought for them, until she witnessed a pick-up artist harassing a girl persistently to try and get her to join him at a hotel for some sexual success. The girl was VERY CLEARLY uncomfortable and more than once told him she's not interested and is busy. This fucking loser is pissing Namida off. He probably thinks it's easy since the girl is alone. Not on her watch. She smiles cheerfully through her anger and waves a greeting hand in the air. "Beckyyyyy~! There you are! Who's that creep following you~?" She thought up a random name just to at least make it seem like they're friends and had purposely spoken aloud so bystanders can watch and judge the guy. The pick-up artist was taken aback by Namida and was getting antsy that he didn't realize the girl he was pursuing ran away while he was distracted.

That's good, but before Namida could walk off proudly with a mission accomplished, the annoying guy suddenly stops her from going anywhere with his sandal stomped against the wall beside her head like a kabedon except with his foot. He glares down at Namida with a shadowy expression befitting for a flashy delinquent. "Oi oi oiiiiiii~ What's your purpose here, huh? If you hadn't come, that girl wouldn't have run off." Namida pretends to act clueless and blinks a couple times with innocent purple eyes, even though the guy could tell he was being mocked by her teasing tone of voice. "Eeeehh~? It looked like you were harassing her though? She ran away from YOU, after all. Be sure not to go overboard when picking up girls. Didn't you know? Clingy men are unpopular~"

He clicks his tongue and removes his foot away from the wall. His eyes studying her form up and down as he shakes his Slurpee drink in circles. "Geeeeeez. Anyway, the heck are you even wearing? You think you look cute dressed like that? You know that guys don't like that though right?" Ah yes of course. She's been in this situation before. When a guy doesn't get the girl, he immediately goes for the shaming tactic. As if his words rang any truth in them to begin with. Namida is well aware how attractive she is to men. Especially when all dolled up in her favorite Dark Girly fashion. She simply giggles and plays along. "Eheheh~! I'm aware, buuuuuut." Her index fingers create an X shape sign and she smiles a bit TOO nicely. "I'm not some guy's dress up doll, iiiiiiidiot~"

His eyebrow twitches, but Namida presses on. It was her turn to comment on his appearance as she gives him the ol' 'slowly judging you up and down' look. He looked like he went inside a thrift shop and picked out random clothes from a single rack that consisted of cheetah prints, shorts and beach clothes. He could've pulled off the male gyaru look, if only everything wasn't so mismatched. This dumbass really thought he could pick up girls looking so sleazy? "Anyways, who are you to be saying this to me? Look at yourself. I mean, it's whatever. As long as you think it looks cool, I guess~" That REALLY got to him. "You little-!" He was increasingly getting more and more pissed at seeing that fake ass smile the more she spoke with. He pulls out a pocket knife and attempts to throw drink his drink at her to ruin her expensive blouse.

Nobume had been within the Kabuki district since Princess Soyo had wanted to visit Kagura. Of course, since she had become the princess’ body guard she would tag along anywhere to assure her safety. Nobume didn't really have much else she desired doing given how the Mimawarigumi didn't exist anymore. Since she had finished dropping the princess off, Nobume decided to grab some donuts before going back. 

 She'd nibble on her donuts while on her way back when she witnessed a woman being harassed. It certainly did bother her. Men in Edo Japan did not think highly of women, only seeing them as sex objects, or as people weak and inferior to them which led to such a sight. It really irked her. People have attempted similar things with her too, and it always ended badly. For them.

 Nobume was about to step in but… another oddly dressed woman did that instead. She would still observe, just to be safe. It was relieving to see the first woman managing to escape, but the one that remained would likely become a target too.

 It was nice to see a woman as brave as her, something that was rare given the way men made women feel a lot of the time. Because, just like Nobume thought….

 This woman ended up targeted too. She was quick to jump in, although ended up getting drenched with the guy's drink, but she wasn't bothered by it. Her sword was unsheathed before immediately piercing the guy's arm to get him to drop his weapon.

“Men shouldn't get so upset when being told the truth.” She would keep the guy pierced without batting an eye then looked to check on the person that had been harassed.

“Are you okay? I had been observing since he started bothering the other girl, and had to intervene the minute a weapon was pulled out.” She'd rip out her sword from the guy's arm and held it at her side,

“To be honest though, as unusual as your clothes are… I do think they're really cute.” It was only then she realized she had dropped her bag of donuts, seeing the bag collapsed on the ground a few feet away.

“My donuts…” Despite her monotone voice, it was obvious she was just a little peeved over that. It's fine though, she can buy more.

[kenybeets]

What why was phantom foxy so underused he’s a literal ghost pirate WHY WAS HE SO UNDERUSED I JUST REMEMBERED HE EXISTS like imagine a phantom foxy Easter egg specifally for the little balloon world room like let me set it up for everyone

after a specific time going to the theater it triggers a event that lets you follow a "phantom" foxy he's always hidden slightly atleast no good look at him in game but because of loud noises, foot prints, and the sight of his tail you're able to follow him to a poster which is clearly a door but before you can get in it slams in your face and Gregorys like I wanna go in there I wonder if there's anyway to open it so then Freddy who has seen no ghost anywhere recommends maybe they should look at the pirate themed items maybe they could help and also says a sad comment about missing foxy, and decides he needs a little alone time and goes off so Gregorys alone and is seeing "phantom" foxy appearances and takes a picture of a pirate themed items that opens up that door, each time he does this he has to face "phantom" foxy chasing him but it's pretty easy because foxys incredibly loud, Gregory gets all the items and you see the tail go into the balloon world arcade room and foxy disappears, once Gregory gets out Freddy actually meets him out the door and says he actually talked to foxy from there and didn't understand why it was locked now, he hadn't checked since foxy was replaced with the daycare attendant. LIKE IMAGINE. THAT WOULD'VE BEEN SO COOL-

[thesewildreams]

Okay, I hope this isn't invasive to ask but why is "Like They Always Been Free" being re-released if there are no new stories in it?

I know it took me a little while to answer this, but not because it's an invasive question -- it isn't! I just wasn't sure what to say because I wish SO MUCH there was a new story in the collection, but no matter how much I wished it, I couldn't seem to make it happen.

So, long story short: This collection isn't so much "being re-released" as much as it's "been out of print for years and I finally did something about it" if that makes sense?

Ugh, it probably doesn't.

Here's a slightly longer version:

One day, out of the blue, the publisher of the collection sent me an email saying he was no longer interested in the biz, and that he had pulled all copies of my (and everyone's, I guess) work from all retailers, and he truly wished me well.

And it sucked really hard.

The thing is, I hadn't gone looking for a publisher. I was happy writing fanfic! I published the occasional original story, here and there, but it didn't matter to me overly much. And then, this publisher sought me out. And he was so excited. And I got excited, too. And the collection was even nominated for a Lambda Award. And it was exciting!

And then, suddenly, it was over. My books had been pulled, and my contract voided, and to be honest, it kinda broke the thing in me that cared about writing. And I guess I haven't written much of anything since then.

But a friend messaged me some months ago asking where they could find my book of short stories, and I thought, well, there's really no reason the answer to that question should be, "You can't find it anywhere."

And so, now you can. Find it, I mean. ❤️

Anyway, hey, thank you for asking! I really appreciate it!

[spainkitty]

A Very Stupid Book

Lanil's Pieces Masterlist

She was restless. Restless. Dagna was tinkering away with Maddox's tools, and probably scaring the life out of Herrit. Hawke was searching for Stroud somewhere. Corypheus was lying suspiciously low. Everyone was in this horrible stretch of stasis.

What was going to come next? When was it coming? Why wasn't it here already?

Or maybe it was just her. Maybe everyone else was perfectly sane and enjoying the respite.

There was still work that could be done in Emprise du Lion. Maybe she could take the time to finally go check out that strange Oasis in the far west... But Hawke said Stroud was definitely in Ferelden. The Oasis was much too far away to go to because she felt antsy.

She walked the battlements several times and checked on the infirmary courtyard renovations. Somehow, her feet kept leading her towards Cullen's office. Where he was working. She couldn't go tease or bother him while he was working. Especially since it... she... felt different. She still hadn't figured out what it was, what the earth shifting under her or look on his face meant. Until she did, she'd keep her feet on solid ground and...

and

drive herself insane apparently.

She threw her hands up and left the walls before she ended up in Cullen's office anyway. Herald's Rest was an obvious choice. She liked spending time with the Iron Bull. But... She didn't want to go anywhere near alcohol after the maraas-lok debacle. Maybe Iron Bull was at that training corner? He, Krem, and Cassandra often sparred there. 

Lavellan wandered around the the other side of the Rest. It was immediately, unfortunately, obvious Bull wasn't out there. It didn't even seem like Cassandra was. With the vague idea of heading to the garden to pry some information out of Morrigan, an exercise in futility if there ever was, Lavellan made to turn away. And then paused. Took another closer look.

Cassandra was there. She was sitting on a bench that Lavellan had never noticed there before, and was curled over something on her lap. Lavellan sidled closer to lean in without blocking the light Cassandra was using to... read a book. Cassandra was reading a book. And was so engrossed in it, she didn't so much as flinch when Lavellan leaned in even closer to squint at the print.

"What's that, Cassandra?" Lavellan finally asked.

She was expecting some reaction, but nothing so violent. Cassandra all but fell off the bench, eyes wide and horrified, flailing--Cassandra flailed!-- as she tried to hide the book behind her.

"Nothing! I mean, it's just a book."

"..." Lavellan stared at her. "I... saw it was a book. Why are you hiding it?" Lavellan craned around her, and Cassandra...

Cassandra threw the book away.

"What in the world...?" Lavellan blurted, eyebrows high. Cassandra's eyes darted everywhere but at her.

"It's nothing. It's of no interest to you, I'm certain."

Lavellan stared at her. "Maybe not before you threw it across the yard. Now I'm very interested."

"I didn't throw it that far," Cassandra said defensively. Lavellan slowly began to smirk. Cassandra sighed and walked over to pick it back up, carefully dusting it clean. "It's one of Varric's tales. Swords & Shields, the latest chapter."

"Varric's? You're a fan of his books!?" Lavellan grinned and reached for it. Cassandra pulled the book away again.

"Why are you saving her, but I had to suffer through that horrid trash?" Dorian asked as he walked by. "I actually feel dumber after reading that last one she gave me. Don't let her fool you, that's her favorite."

"I've read Varric's books before. What I've read is really good," Lavellan said with a frown.

"Yes, those books have standards. His smutty romances do not," Dorian said with a smirk.

"Oh, it's one of those!" Lavellan snorted loudly and quickly pressed her fist to her mouth.

"No one asked you, Tevinter. It's literature!" Cassandra snapped at Dorian. Almost immediately, she backed down and shook her head. "Smutty literature. Whatever you do, don't tell Varric!"

"I should read it. It sounds interesting," Lavellan joked, reaching for it again.

"No! No, you can't!" Cassandra gasped, absolutely aghast at the very idea. Lavellana froze, glanced to Dorian, whom shrugged with a too-wide smirk. "You're the... the Inquisitor. You shouldn't read such things."

"What?" Lavellan huffed incredulously as Dorian burst into laughter.

"They're terrible. And magnificent. And this one ends in a cliffhanger. Varric has to be writing the next one, he must be. You!" Lavellen startled under Cassandra's almost pleading gaze. "You could ask him to finish it, command him to..."

Cassandra trailed off as Lavellan gaped at her like a fish out of water. She hadn't just implied Lavellan should command Varric to finish a book? No, that wasn't even an implication, she said 'command'! As Cassandra's expression began to shutter into her customary scowl, Lavellan began to grin.

"Pretend you don't know this about me," she ordered, turning away without another word.

Lavellen slowly met Dorian's equally bemused and incredulously grinning face.

"I only came to speak with Morris about the mages' woefully outdated equipment, and I received so much more," Dorian said in a voice cracking with repressed laughter.

"There's only one thing to do now," Lavellan agreed. She grinned crookedly, and without hesitation, jogged for Skyhold's entrance, Dorian right behind her.

Lavellan never thought anything could flabbergast Varric. He took to demons and Breaches and fake archdemons with easy wisecracks and a flair for irony. But the moment Lavellan said 'Cassandra is waiting for the next Swords & Shields', he actually stumbled. Asked repeatedly to make sure he heard correctly, slowly growing more and more amused as Lavellan and Dorian convinced him they weren't lying. That, in fact, his biggest fan was right outside.

"So... you want me to finish writing the next chapter of my worst serial. For Cassandra." Varric smirked and shook his head. "Oh, that's such a terrible idea. I have to do it. On one condition, I have to be there when you give it to her."

"I wouldn't have it any other way," Dorian replied.

"It's a deal," Lavellan quickly agreed.

Varric chuckled, still shaking his head. "All right. I better get to work. Give me until dinner."

"That fast?" Lavellan blurted. Varric shrugged and walked away.

"I did tell you they are terrible, right?" Dorian reminded her.

"Do you still have the ones she lent you?"

Dorian blinked rapidly and then laughed. "Yes, of course. Please, take them away before people see them and think they're mine." Lavellan grinned.

...

Later that evening, Lavellan sat cross-legged on her bed and set the borrowed serials on her lap. Cassandra's embarrassed antics and Varric's smug enjoyment of it all was fresh in her mind. She'd never seen Cassandra so flustered and... and normal. Like a person with real guilty pleasures instead of an honorable, too blunt Seeker. It had been nice to see that side of her. And be able to laugh with Dorian about it. Hopefully Cassandra and Varric would be better friends after all this, too. To be fair, their bickering was already more entertainment than uncomfortable these days.

Now, at last, Lavellan let herself get drawn into Varric's romance serial. She needed to see for herself what Cassandra hadn't wanted her to read.

It was... truly atrocious. Half the time she laughed when she was pretty sure she was supposed to cry. Or sigh and bat her eyelashes or something. Swoon, maybe? Varric was a good writer; the content was horrendous, but his writing was addictive. The characters were so real, the action fast and gripping, the dialogue as quippy as the author himself. But the romance was absolute drivel. And the smut...

That's not how that works... right?

Lavellan tilted her head and tried to picture it. Where where her legs at? Did he have three arms? She rolled her eyes and skimmed through those pages quickly after just a few paragraphs. Surely sex didn't last that long, why were there so many pages devoted to smut? Get it over with already.

Snorting and impatient, she found the end of it, eager to see what happened to the main characters after the sex. She got a few kisses in with Solas and that... Her fingers clenched around the book. Even thinking the words aloud in her own head was impossible. Anyway, she ran from it, from him, as fast as possible.

So, what was supposed to happen after? She all but devoured the next few pages. Only to stop short, heart pounding painfully against her ribs as she read it again.

Oh.

Oh.

Her pulse quickened and she touched the paragraph. Followed the lines with her fingertips. That was actually... nice. Just lying next to each other? Waking up together? Turning and seeing the person you've loved and wanted and yearned for right next to you and then they smile? That was. That was sweet. And so simple.

The man kept touching the woman's hair. Curling it around his fingers. Lavellan reached up and tugged at a strand of her own hair. It wasn't very curl-able. Too short and thick and spiky. Would she like someone to touch her like that? What if she touched someone like that?

She snorted and snapped the book closed. Stupid. She had, hadn't she? She'd woken up next to the Solas just a few weeks ago. It had been nice, but she hadn't been all swoony. Hadn't been yearning. It had been nice and comfortable and she hadn't been alone. All perfectly reasonable things to feel when you wake up next to someone you like.

Lavellan tossed the book to the ground and flopped back on the bed. Why was she so disappointed? Did she want to swoon?

She grimaced.

No. Definitely not. Swooning is bad.

What about the yearning part?

Lavellan closed her eyes. Did she want to want someone like that? To constantly want to seek them out? To touch them any way she possibly could? Smile when they smiled? Did she want to wake up and see the same person beside her, for him touch her hair and say good morning as if she made his morning good?

What would his hair feel like curled around her finger? Would he still blush? He was probably really comfortable to lay on, too, if he'd take off the damm armor. What would it feel like to fall asleep next to him and wake up holding his hand--

Wait. She'd had this thought before. About the same damn person. Why was her hypothetical person suddenly a real person??

Lavellan jerked upright.

Was she already... yearning and she... hadn't even noticed!?!

She got to her feet, gnawed at her thumbnail, and began to pace. Back and forth, back and forth, footsteps faster and faster.

The teasing--No, she flirted with and teased Dorian and Cassandra and Varric and--that didn't mean anything. So what if she liked to make him blush. It was a game.

The chess games. If she was perfectly honest... she kind of hated chess. But she kept playing the stupid game. And she only played it with Cullen. Dorian had offered once and she waved him off, suggested going for a ride instead. It didn't mean anything. She liked talking to Cullen. He liked playing chess. So they talked and played chess.

She liked making him smile. She liked making him blush. Void take it, she even liked fighting with him, just a little. He lost his cool and in control composure, and she liked poking at his edges.

She'd liked dancing with him. She had thought it was because it had been fun. After that horrible, shitty, no good beast of a ball, dancing with Cullen had been fun. Easy. He'd made her smile and laugh and believe in herself again. He'd even held her like that, spun her like he had his sister, shared those memories with her... She liked it. She'd liked all of it. If he asked her to dance in the middle of Skyhold's courtyard, she'd probably say yes. Definitely. She'd definitely say yes.

She glanced down at Varric's book.

Then, she closed her eyes, palms sweaty, whole body too hot. Imagine it. Just imagine Cullen there. And yourself there. Imagine reaching out to touch his hair, making it curl around your finger, and then he wakes up. And he smiles and he says good morning and... what did the man in the book do? Oh, he kissed the woman's hair, that was weird, and wouldn't work... But your hand is there, so Cullen could hold your hand again, and... what if Cullen kissed your hand?

Lavellan pressed her hand over her mouth, eyes suddenly too wide.

"Oh. Oh no. I really... Fenedhis! No. No, you idiot. This is stupid, so stupid. He's the Commander, you're the Inquisitor. You're a mage! A Dalish mage! He's a human man from Honnleath. And ex-templar who... who couldn't--!"

She turned and glared at the book. With an angry snarl, she blasted it with fire. Stupid damn book. Giving her stupid ideas.

He couldn't want that with her. Not after everything he'd been through. Even if they could get past their roles, their different backgrounds, she'd always be a mage.

But... he respects you, doesn't he? He tries his best to understand. He agrees with almost every call you make. He doesn't flinch, he's never flinched, even knowing what you're capable of. He's listened to your advice about dealing with the mages, and you've listened to his.

He held your hand. Kept his arm tight around you during that dance.

"Well, this is still stupid!" She tipped her head back to glare at the ceiling. "I won't get anywhere on my own."

She turned towards the window. It was mostly dark, the sunset barely a line of dark rose. Most of the sky was star-studded black velvet. But it wasn't exactly late. Lavellan went for her boots, dumped her ewer out over the still smoldering book, and headed down for the door. Unlike the last time she went on a mission to Cullen's office, this time she headed outside. She didn't need any distractions.

While she wasn't exactly running, she was moving fast enough up the stairs to lose her breath. At least, she hoped that's why she was losing her breath. Swooning was not going to happen. So figure it out, lungs. She skidded over stone, too aware of every pulse point in her body and how they pounded, and stared at Cullen's door. Just go in. Say 'I like you, I want to sleep with you, would you ever sleep with a mage? '

Wait, no. That's a horrible idea. Terrible wording. See, Dorian, Varric, I can notice innuendo.

"I like you" is a good start. She'd said that before. He'd also said it back. But it had been in a friend way. How to differentiate...? Fond of you? Ugh, no. You're special to me? Ugh, worse. She bit her thumbnail and began to pace.

I... care? I care about you. That's clear. That's good! I care about you. Could you ever care about a mage? No, wait, could you ever feel that way about me? Even though I'm a mage? Is that accusatory?

"Fenedhis lasa, I'm winging it. We'll see what happens."

She burst into Cullen's office. He startled so badly the cup he was holding rattled and liquid splashed all over his hands and desk. "Wha-What?"

"Was it hot?! I can fix it!" She raised her hand.

"No, no. I don't need a desk covered in ice," Cullen said quickly, half-rising out of his seat. "It wasn't hot, anyway. I forgot to drink it."

"I don't do ice well, actually," Lavellan said, slowly lowering her hand. "So you were going to drink cold...?"

"Tea. It was tea." They both glanced at the puddle dripping onto the floor. "Emphasis on was."

"Shit."

"It doesn't matter. It's terrible cold. Are you all right?" He scooted the cup aside and got to his feet, shaking the wet off his gloves. "You burst in like there was an emergency."

"No. Not an emergency. Just..." She sighed. "Let me help."

"Help?"

"Quick dry. Lucky for you, I'm a mage." She smiled awkwardly and wriggled her fingers.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"You lived in Circles for years, didn't you see them use their magic for all kinds of things before... you know... boom?" She winced and held her hand out over the puddle. It barely took any energy at all to heat the air until it shimmered and the liquid began to evaporate. "The trick is to know when to stop. You don't want the desk or the papers to catch fire."

"We weren't encouraged to fraternize. Magic like this... I wouldn't have even noticed."

"Not big or flashy enough?" She shook her hand out with a hiss. Hot air could burn just as much as fire. "I knew someone that could pick the puddle right off the ground and..." She stopped, shook her head. "And something. I remember the puddle rising. She pulled it right out of his robes, so no one would see he was wet...?"

"Lane?" His hand touched her arm.

"What? Did... Did you say something?" She shook her head again and glanced at the desk. "I can do the floor. It'll just be a second."

"It's stone. It'll live. Look at me, Lavellan." He lowered his head to meet her gaze, slowly straightening as she looked up. The expression on his face was so concerned and just as gentle as his hand on her arm. It made her pulse race all over again. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, I'm fine." She grinned crookedly. "Kinda upset my own plans, but I'll live."

"Plans?"

Lavellan shuffled in place. Damn it, she felt shy. "Can we talk? For a minute?"

Cullen leaned against his desk and crossed his arms. "Of course. Anything you need."

"Maybe, um, outside? We could take a walk? Alone."

"A walk? Alone?" He frowned slightly, eyes darting over her face. Then, he suddenly glanced away with hand over his mouth. "Alone?"

It was probably written in giant yellow paint across her face. She looked anywhere but directly at him, heart thudding in her throat.

"Yeah. Yeah, let's... go." She turned on her heel and marched right back out. Luckily, he followed.

They walked for a while in awkward silence. Lavellan got lost in her head, writing a script, disregarding a script, writing another one. She let her hand ghost over the stone wall, felt the wind from the snowy peaks brush across her face, and inhaled. Exhaled.

"Nice night?"

"Huh, what?" She jerked around. Cullen rubbed the back of his neck, staring at his feet. "Did you say something?"

"Uh no, not really--it's... nothing." He sighed and looked back towards his office.  A pair of guards walked by, saluted, and continued past on their round.

Oh no. He was going go. She was being an idiot, of course he was going to go. As if in slow motion, she saw his mouth open. And she had to say it now. The door behind those guards closed. Right now.

"Cullen! I--" It lodged something in her chest. A too heavy rock. What if he... what if he didn't... It would hurt. This would hurt a lot. But he was looking at her and it could be her only chance. Indomitable will, her ass. She was a giant chicken. "I care about you."

She said it. She actually said it.

He stood there, his hand slowly falling from his nape, eyes wide and too dark to read in the dim starlight.

"I care about you and I need to know if you could... if you could ever care about someone like me. A mage. After all you've been through, could you think about me the same way?"

It hung there. Finally outside her. And she meant it. These were the right words, the words she'd felt in Halamshiral. The ones she hadn't understood. She cared about him. She cared about him so much that the idea of him saying no, that she was a mage and it was too much, hurt. It hurt so much she wanted to stop him from talking. She was actually scared.

"Lavellan... Lane," her heart leapt from her toes to her mouth, "Of course I could. Do. I do care about you, and think about... what I would say in this situation."

Lavellan smiled, wide and shocked, only for the smile to crack and fall when Cullen wouldn't look at her. Actually sighed again under his breath as he turned away.

"Cullen? What is it?" Slowly, as if she were approaching a spooked horse, she set her hand on his arm.

"You're the Inquisitor," Lavellan barely kept from grimacing; that was the second time she heard that in a single day, "we're at war, and you... I didn't think it was possible."

She blinked. That... that wasn't how Cassandra had said it, or how she implied it. He sounded... confused. And soft. Something similar to disbelief. Disbelief that she could say or feel anything like that when the world was on the verge of falling apart.

"I don't think war stops feelings like that. Like this. Though, I don't know what I'm saying because I've never been at war or had these feelings before, or I don't remember it, so--but. It's not. Impossible." Lavellan didn't even know what words were coming out of her mouth now. He was looking at her finally. And when she stepped closer, he stepped closer, too. "I'm right here, with you."

"So you are." He was closer, his head dipped lower, and she rocked forward onto the balls on her feet. "It seems too much to ask, and yet I want to--"

A door creaked open the same moment her eyes lowered to his mouth.

"Commander," they broke apart and Cullen tipped his head back to glare upwards, "you wanted a copy of Sister Leliana's report," said the assistant that Lavellan had seen with Cullen too many times to count.

She really needed to learn his name. If only so she could curse him in her head properly. She leaned back against the wall and stared at her feet, disappointment cutting all the tension in her, like a knife cutting strings. It had been so close. Now he'd scrape together all his honorable objections and common sense and she'd never get another--

"What."

Her eyebrows raised at the sheer annoyance in that single syllable. Perhaps he'd been spending too much time around her, because he sounded like he was about to start throwing lightning with the power of his annoyance and will alone.

"Sister Leliana's report...? You said you wanted it delivered without delay?"

There was a long, heavy silence. Lavellan stared off in the oppsite direction, gnawing on her thumbnail, too deeply humiliated and frustrated to dare glance over to see what the silence was. She could just... slip away. There was a door right over there where those guards had gone. Of course this would happen. That stupid book.

"Or... to your office... of course. I'll... right away." Boots on stone hurried away. A door closed.

Surprisingly, Cullen was coming back towards her. Probably to apologize. That was the last thing she wanted to hear. She glanced up and then away, pushing off the stone wall.

"If you have to--"

She didn't even recognize the sound she made; so soft and surprised and shy. One hand was cupping the nape of her neck, a thumb pressed to her pulse, the other on her hip. And...

Was he kissing her?

He was, without a word or warning, kissing her like someone was about to come through another door and stop him. Which might actually happen. She pushed up onto her toes and grabbed handfuls of fur. Kissed back with all the fervent urgency inside her. It felt like she'd been waiting months for this, for him, for his lips on hers and his hands, warm even through his gloves, on her. Despite her tight-clenched fists in his cloak, he pulled away with a quiet gasp and she dropped to her heels, befuddled and blinking.

"I'm sorry, that was... that was very nice."

She blinked again and frowned slightly. "Why are you sorry? That was what I wanted."

"Oh." He carefully cupped her face, his thumbs stroking along the line of her cheekbone and vallaslin. The smile that she liked best, that was almost a smirk, slowly grew across his face. "Good."

The same time he leaned in, she tugged him down. Both hands stroked down her back to wrap completely around her. She arched into him, as pleased as a cat, and finally buried a hand in his hair, the other still holding onto his fur ruff as she balanced on her toes. His hair really did curl around her fingers and she couldn’t stop the grin that broke the kiss.

"What?" he asked, while smiling himself. She felt it against her lips.

There it was. That Moment again. Like Halamshiral and coming back from the Shrine. Everything suddenly felt right. Slotted into place like a sword fitted for a sheath. This was where her feet were meant to land. Her heart beat was too loud and too fast, her skin too hot and too taut, and his smile tasted like tea and elfroot tonic.

She shook her head, running her hand through his hair and meeting his eyes through shadows and flickering torchlight. "This is perfect."

The next kiss was, too.

[overnightheartbeats]

"Depends if Texas makes me miss work too much," he offered in a nonchalant tone, though Isaac knew they were both aware what the duration of his stay depended on. Especially now, after his news. He meant to visit, check in on him, give him shit for ignoring his messages, then probably catch a Rangers or Astros game. Just an opportunity to hang out before fatherhood became his life. Clearly, Isaac's initial plans had shifted significantly. A loud laugh erupted from his lips, "I'm good at my craft. I might be willing to teach her, but I charge for an audience."

Isaac liked to believe that he knew Eli pretty well, more than most people at least. With that in mind, he knew he couldn't take his words at face value. That Eli was okay, or trying. He suspected he was holding himself together for her, and while that was a noble thing to do, and something he admired greatly, Isaac knew that left him little or no room to himself. Besides, his eyes communicated more than he was willing to say at the moment. So, now he was glad he took that time off and that he decided to come here. Being there for Eli was the least he could do, he had done the same for him countless times. "I'm here then. It's a terrible and emotional situation, and I'm here to help, you or her. However. She needs you, sure, but you also need someone to lean on. Yeah, I can't imagine what's running through her mind right now, but it's not anyone's fault and there's no way you can make her feel guilty just by showing your emotions." He shook his head, feeling majorly unprepared for this. But, well life rarely prepares you for anything. "Yeah, I'll stay. Don't worry. I'm hilarious, I'll prepare my best jokes."

He returned his smile, watching how his friend reverted back to their banter. The comfortable space. Surely easier than talking about what was gnawing at him. "Finesse, that's good. Well, do not worry. I'm reporting for duty, all three meals are on me. I'll even print out a little menu for you." Isaac winced at the hotel description, worse than Motel 6? God, that was a low point. "Texas loses points the more we talk. Ugh. Dirty bedsheets, where does it end?" He noticed the look Eli threw his way, and he could only grin in return. He was caught, of course he'd be. Again, knew him too well. "I'd argue I'm the hotter version of you, but sure yeah. Okay yeah, I was basically pushed out to have a few days. Was told I should enjoy some sunshine and piña coladas. Mostly because I haven't taken time in ages, but also, the last mission went on longer than planned. It was supposed to be a simple extraction out in Uzbekistan. Details..things obviously go differently, the usual." Now he geared the conversation back to their more lighthearted topic. Revisiting his workload was not something he looked forward to. "I have the sunshine though, this state is an oven and the piña coladas, well I can get that anywhere."

Of course, he hadn't had food. Could Isaac be surprised? Not really. "Come on," he nudged him in an attempt to get him off the couch. "Dude, chores will still be here. They're not going anywhere." It seemed obvious, and he felt stupid asking, but he did so anyway. "She's not here right now, is she?" If so, had he just been laughing in their apartment without a care in the world? Talk about impertinence. "I'll help you with the rest of your to-do list. After we eat. Well, what do you have in your fridge?" Isaac didn't waste any time to walk into his kitchen and rummage through drawers and his fridge. "I mean, you have some stuff. Right now, it's looking like a decent pasta, chicken alfredo maybe. Or, could whip up some breakfast food for dinner. Grilled cheese if we want something quick. Your fridge is not providing much at the moment, I'm taking a trip to the store tomorrow." He began taking items out, placing them on the countertop. Items he could use for more than one recipe.

"Depends on what?" he asked, head shooting up in his direction as he laid the other blanket he had folded on top of the most recent one. "No one can do them like you can. She's tried many times but your lap dances can't be replicated. Show her how it's done and how I like it."

The way Issac said right now, he knew all too well how that went. He wanted to make sure that Eli was okay which as things were going right now, that'd be a big fat no. He was not okay, he wasn't even close to being okay or handling it well. Crystal greens looked up and shook his head. He could lie and say he was really fine. But doing that he knew Issac would give him shit for it. A heavy sigh escaped him as chewed the inside of his cheek. "I want you here. It's just a merry around of fine and I don't know how much more I can take of it without having to break down in front of her. The last thing I want to do is make her feel guilty because you and I both know she's thinking that right now. She's somehow let me down because this is our second one who's gone poof. So, for me? Please stay. You can tell her one of your jokes and see if you're really as funny as you think you are."

He nodded his head and smiled knowing he had gotten his way. "Gotta make it happen one way or another. Who has the cooking skills that'd rival yours? Literally no one." he laughed, "Actually stayed in one a year ago. That one made the Motel 6 look like the Hilton. Bed sheets were dirty, I think one of the beds had a cumstain so that was really great start for us." Eli gave him a you've got to be kidding me look. "I know you. You don't just take days off. You're made to have them. You're me basically. What was your last mission about?"

He checked his watch that lit up when his hand moved and shook his head. "I haven't, not yet. I wasn't sure what I should do. Finished laundry thirty minutes ago and changed the bedsheets and took the trash out." Before Laurel left he remembered that he should toss most of the nursery things and put them out back where he'd take them to a shelter later in the week. "But I could eat. What are you thinking of making?"

[judeswhore]

hand print - mason mount

introducing handsy, baby fever mason

You stood in the middle of the bedroom, gaze turned turned towards the opposite wall where Mason was currently rolling paint on, the muscles in his back flexing with every movement. You twirled your own little paintbrush around one finger, too busy admiring the way his grey joggers were slung low on his hips and you could see the band of his underwear peaking out.

He looked good, tanned skin practically glowing, hair still a fluffy mess from getting out of bed, days worth of stubble covering his jaw. You'd pulled the curtains wide open and the sun was washing over his bare chest, his eyes squinting slightly whenever he turned to look at you. But it was those joggers that were getting to you. Grey joggers were a weakness for everyone, but for you, seeing Mason in grey joggers made you want to just lay on the floor for a while.

"Y/N, are you gonna help me or just stand staring at my arse all day?" Mason's voice jolted you from your thoughts, you eyes darting from his bum to his face where he'd only turned his head to look at you. He had a teasing smirk on his lips that only made you roll your eyes.

"I wasn't staring and anyway you're doing perfectly alright on your own." You pointed out, hand gesturing to the almost fully painted wall. Mason dropped his arm, careful not to get paint anywhere and turned completely to face you. Your body was a traitor to your argument of not ogling him because the second he was looking at you your gaze dropped along his chest, over the little ladder of hair and you lifted the dry paint brush to cover your smile when your eyes fell lower. Really the grey joggers did wonders for him.

"We're supposed to be painting together, sweetheart, that was the whole point." Mason gestured to the paintbrush in your hand. "That hasn't even got any paint on it."

"I just wanted to watch you for a while." You argued, moving over to him, hand sliding along his bare side.

"I've almost finished the entire wall." He grumbled as you reached up to tilt his head down to yours. You pressed a soft kiss to his mouth.

"Would you rather paint it yourself and have it look amazing or let me help and have it look shit?" Mason rolled his eyes at your question and the fact you were trying to distract him with kisses and plucked the paintbrush from your hand. He shook his head at the fact you clearly hadn't done anything in the past half an hour and gently pulled out of your grip.

You pouted slightly, watching him squat to dip the brush into the paint before standing up again. You fought to keep your eyes on his face, determined to try and keep your thoughts in check so that Mason wouldn't tease you about never being able to pay attention when he's around. He stood in front of you again and took your hand in his, wrapping your fingers around the handle of the brush.

"This is a paintbrush, sweetheart, and it's covered in paint." Mason jabbed his thumb behind him and you narrowed your eyes at his words. "That is a wall. Use the paintbrush to paint the wall." With a shake of your head you pulled the brush back from him and nudged your hip against his to get him to move out of the way.

"If you're done mansplaining, Mount, I wanna paint the top of the wall." Mason watched you make your way to the little ladders he'd brought up so it would be easier to reach the top of the walls and you missed the little smirk that tugged at his lips.

“I’m not sure you’ll be able to reach, y’know.” Stopping at the first step of the ladder you threw a glare over your shoulder.

“I’ll shove your head into that tub of paint if you’re not careful.” Mason made a mocking face at that, slowly coming up behind you as you climbed to the top of the ladder. You reached your arm up and swiped easily along the top of the wall, grinning triumphantly and wiggling slightly. “Ha! Look at that Mr It’s So Funny My Girlfriend Is So Short.”

“My girlfriend is so short. Anyway, Genius, you’re gonna have to climb up and down the ladders to dip your brush in the paint.” You paused at this, gaze staring straight ahead at the grey wall and then cursed.

You really only had to do one swipe along the very top of the wall but it was clear one dip of paint wouldn’t do the job. The tray holding the paint was settled on the floor by Mason’s feet and you eyed it a few seconds, considering what to do because there was no way you were backing down now you’d taken up the role. You suddenly turned your head to look down at Mason but he was staring directly at you arse, his hands on either leg of the ladders to cage you in. His tongue darted out to lick his lips and you huffed, lightly flicking his forehead.

“Now who’s the one staring?” He at least had the decency to turn a little pink, head ducking as he rubbed his cheek against his shoulder to avoid your gaze.

“What? I just really like when you wear cycling shorts.”

“Yeah, clearly, will you hold the tray?” Mason glanced between you and the tray, his eyebrows drawing together. He’d gotten paint from his fingers smudged over his forehead where he’d rubbed it and there was a streak of grey in his hair that you knew wasn’t there earlier.

“You want me to just stand here with the tray” He asked but he was already bending down to pick it up, hovering it at a level you could easily dip the brush in.

“We’ll take turns, you can hold the tray and stare at my arse now and then we’ll swap in a bit and I’ll do that.” You caught Mason’s little eye roll just before you turned back around.

Mason was relatively quiet while he let you do the work, his head resting against your hip, fingers playfully skimming your side. He tilted his head to glance up at you, soft smile curling his lips.

“Y’know, when we have a family, I think we should decorate the baby room together.” You paused your movements, hand hovering in midair and waited to see if he was messing or not. The two of you had been together for a few years now, you’d obviously talked about wanting kids but you’d never gone as far as planning their rooms. But Mason seemed completely serious when you glanced down at him and that for some reason sent a giddy feeling straight through your tummy.

“Are we gonna be one of those couples who fight over colour schemes?” You went back to painting, Mason nuzzling his nose a little into the material of your shirt.

“No, I already know you’d want to paint the room yellow.” Your heart did a little flip at the truth of those words and you had to bite back an overwhelming smile.

“How’d you know that?”

“Always see you looking at yellow swatches and I’ve seen you shop for baby things that would match.” Mason wasn’t looking at you but you knew he was smiling, you could hear it in his voice and it was making you feel all kinds of ways. You knew Mason payed close attention to pretty much everything you did but you didn’t realise he payed that much attention that he knew you studied yellow swatches for a future little Mount.

“And you wouldn’t mind the room being yellow?”

“Nope, it’s a good neutral colour. We could make one wall into like a wildlife theme, or could cover it with stars. We could have little glowing stars that go on the ceiling above the cot.” Mason’s voice got a little giddy but he suddenly flushed and closed his mouth when he noticed you grinning down at him.

“Are you having a bit of baby fever, Masey?” You teased, gently nudging him out of the way so you could jump down. There was still a little chunk in the centre of the wall that needed painting and your arm was starting to hurt from all the stretching so you figured you’d finish that first.

“No, just suggesting.” Mason put the tray back on the floor and reached for the roller he’d previously been using, standing a couple of steps away from you to help you finish the wall. You hummed softly at his reply, not at all convinced because why would he be planning a baby room if he wasn’t at least a little in his baby fever feels.

You opened your mouth to tell him you wanted to find new curtains to match the now grey walls when Mason started talking again, his eyes on his hand.

“I do want a baby.” He mumbled, voice so soft that you were surprised you heard it over the hum of music through Mason’s new speakers. You turned to him, smile fighting it’s way on to your lips at his shy expression and playfully flicked your brush, the remaining bits of paint splattering over the side of Mason’s body and face.

His gaze darted up to yours and he blinked at your teasing look, eyes falling to the paint splatters covering his bare skin. A smile bloomed on his own lips and he flicked you back, the grey paint landing on your cheek and shirt.

“What was that for?” Mason asked but you replied with another flick of paint, giggling when it almost landed in his mouth.

“Felt like it.” You moved over to him, quickly swiping the brush across his chest before darting under his arm and out of his reach. “You want a baby now?”

“Well, not while you’re attacking me with paint I don’t.” You flicked him with a larger amount of paint this time having sneakily dipped your brush into the tub. Mason let out a little curse and lifted his own brush like a weapon. “Don’t play a game you can’t finish, sweetheart.”

“When do you want a baby?” You held your hands up in surrender, paint momentarily out of your mind because you just wanted to hear Mason’s answer. His shoulders rose and fell on a shrug, eyes falling to his roller where he placed his entire hand around, paint covering his palm.

“Soon. A year or two. I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life like I am you. I know more than anything that I want a family with you,” His head tilted backwards, eyes scanning the partly painted room. “I want to do this with you forever. Paint the rooms, change what we want, make everything ours. When I think about the future I see you and a family, you with me forever and that’s exactly what I want.” You hadn’t even noticed him move over to you but he was suddenly right in front of you, gaze burning into yours.

“Oh you’re definitely having baby fever.” Your voice was teasing and you used the tip of your paintbrush to write your name across his chest, Mason’s nose scrunching adorably on a laugh. “I want a family with you too, y’know. More than anything. I think I’ve know for a while that I only ever wanted you and I think that’s why I started looking at baby rooms, so I could imagine what it would look like to have that family.” You dropped your brush to the floor, paint splattered hands sliding along the back of Mason’s neck, definitely leaving smudged in their wake.

“Is this you inviting me to start practicing making a baby?” You pressed a kiss against his mouth and let out a soft laugh, fingers tugging lightly at his hair.

“Maybe if we get the entire room painted before night then it’ll be your reward.” Mason grinned and slid his arms around your waist, hands not touching your skin and even before he’d pressed his hand against your bum you knew what he’d done.

He pulled you closer to him, hands planted firmly on your arse and dropped his mouth to yours to kiss you properly. His tongue licked at your bottom lip and then brushed over yours when you opened your mount for him, your breathy sigh being swallowed almost immediately. When you finally pulled away you turned your head to see Mason’s hand print set directly on one arse cheek, the light grey standing out like a neon sign against the black of your shorts.

You turned back to him with a pointed look. “Was that really necessary? You know how much I love my shorts.” Your pout was playful and Mason just shook his head, leaning down to lick your brush back up, sliding it back into your hand.

“Come on, like you didn’t know I’d been planning that all morning, you should have been expecting it.” You whacked the back of your hand against his stomach, more paint smearing over his skin and you knew by the end of the day you’d both be covered in it completely.

As if sensing your thoughts Mason grinned, swiping his still paint covered thumb over your chin. “Wanna play a game?”

“What game?”

“See who’s better at painting along the corners without making a mess. Loser gets the leftover paint dumped on them.” You eyed your boyfriend for a few seconds, gaze swiping over his already paint splattered body, the back of his hair matted with it where you’d ran your fingers through the strands. The thought of covering Mason’s always perfect hair was an opportunity too good to say no to so you smiled and knocked your brush against his roller to seal the deal.

“Might wanna make sure you cancel any plans for the next few days, baby, your hairs not gonna last.” You told him, turning back towards the wall, eyes glazing over what to do next. Mason came up behind you, arms wrapping loosely around your waist so he could kiss the side of your head.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, sweetheart, who’s the professional athlete with all the skills in this relationship?”

[jjackrabbitt]

MISS PEREGRINES' REWRITE, CHAPTER 1

[pick up from Ricky: “hell i am, why?”]

“Because you’re six-five and have green hair and my grandfather doesn’t know you and owns lots of guns.”

“So do half the people in this county and I ain't been shot yet. And if anything my height is a advantage here.” Ricky smirked as he shoved me towards the door.

With Ricky behind me and dread seeping out from behind the door, I unlocked it and we stepped inside. Even in the fading light I could tell the house was a disaster; it looked like it’d been ransacked by thieves. Bookshelves and cabinets had been emptied, the knicknacks and large-print readers digests that had filled them thrown across the floor. Couch cushions and chairs were overturned. The fridge and freezer doors hung open, their contents melting sticky puddles on the linoleum.

Ricky “hmm”-ed and glanced around, “Nice place.”

My heart sank. Grandpa Portman had really, finally lost his mind. I called his name- but heard nothing.

“Now’s not the time, Ricky,” I said as I turned to move on to the next room.

“No, I'm serious. If the place hadn’t been through a hurricane, it’d be nice,” he was barely audible over the sound of the fridge doors closing.

I went from room to room, turning on lights and looking anywhere a paranoid old man might hide from monsters: behind furniture, in the attic crawlspace, under the workbench in the garage. I even checked inside his weapons cabinet, though of course it was locked, the handle ringed by scratches where he’d tried to pick it. Ricky seemed to be senselessly looking through things, checking in places that no one could hide- behind the bedroom dresser, on top of the shelf in the closet. Out on the lanai, a gallows of unwatered ferns swung browning in the breeze; while on my knees on the astroturfed floor I peered beneath rattan benches, afraid what I might discover.

I saw a gleam of light from the backyard.

Running through the screen door, I found a flashlight abandoned in the grass, its beam pointed at the woods that edged my grandfathers yard- a scrubby wilderness of sawtoothed palmettos and trash palms that ran for a mile between Circle Village and the next subdivision, Century Woods. According to local legend, the woods were crawling with snakes, racoons, and wild boars. When I pictured my grandfather out there, lost and raving in nothing but his bathrobe, a black feeling welled up in me. Every other week there was a news story about some geriatric citizen tripping into a retention pond and being devoured by alligators. The worst scenario wasn’t hard to imagine.

I shouted for Ricky and a moment later I heard him lurching through the inside of the house. Right away he noticed something I hadn't: a long, mean-looking slice in the screen door. He let out a low whistle. “That's a helluva cut. Wild pig coulda done it. Or a bobcat. You should see the claws on them things,” he said as he bounced the door back and forth between his hands.

A peal of savage barking broke out nearby. We both started then traded a nervous glance. “Or a dog,” I said. The sound triggered a chain reaction across the neighbourhood, and soon barks were coming from every direction.

“Could be,” Ricky said, nodding,”I got a .22 in my trunk. You just wait.” and he walked off to retrieve it.

The barks faded and a chorus of night insects rose up in their place, droning and alien. Sweat trickled down my face. It was dark now, but the breeze had died and somehow the air seemed hotter than it had all day.

I picked up the flashlight and stepped toward the trees. My grandfather was out there somewhere, I was sure of it. But where? I was no tracker, and neither was Ricky. And yet something seemed to guide me anyway- a quickening in the chest; a whisper in the viscous air- and suddenly I couldn't wait another second. I tromped into the underbrush like a bloodhound scenting an invisible trail.

I didn’t get far before I heard Ricky shout, “Jacob! Just where the hell you think you’re going?” he fell in through the brush to my side, gesturing with his gun, “Wanderin’ off into the forest, what the fuck? ‘S how people die in horror movies, Special Ed.”

All I could do was nod back at him, I was too incensed by the need to find my grandfather to respond. It’s hard to run in a Florida woods, where every square foot not occupied by trees is bristling with thigh-high palmetto spears and nets of entangling skunk vine, but I did my best, calling my grandfather’s name and sweeping my flashlight everywhere. I caught a white glint out of the corner of my eye and made a beeline for it, but upon closer inspection it turned out to be just a bleached and deflated soccer ball I’d lost years before.

We were about to give up and go back to the house to call for help when I spied a freshly stomped corridor of palmettos not far away. I stepped into it and shone my light around; the leaves were splattered with something dark. My throat went dry. Steeling myself, I led us onto the trail. The farther I went, the more my stomach knotted, as though my body knew what lay ahead and was trying to warn me. And then the trail of the flattened brush widened out, and I saw him.

My grandfather lay facedown in a bed of creeper, his legs sprawled out and one arm twisted beneath him as if he’d fallen from a great height. I thought surely he was dead. His undershirt was soaked with blood, his pants were torn, and one shoe was missing. For a long moment I just stared, the beam of my flashlight shivering across his body. When I could breathe again I said his name, but he didn’t move.

I sank to my knees and pressed the flat of my hand against his back. The blood that soaked through was still warm. I could feel him breathing ever so shallowly.

I slid my arms under him and rolled him onto his back. He was alive, though just barely, his eyes glassy, his face sunken and white. Then I saw the gashes across his midsection and nearly fainted. They were wide and deep and clotted with soil, and the ground where he’d lain was muddy from blood. I tried to pull the rags of his shirt over the wounds without looking at them.

From behind me I could hear Ricky start to say something, only to stop himself. All I could think was that grandfathers were supposed to die in beds, in hushed places humming with machines, not in heaps on the sodden reeking ground with ants marching over them, a brass letter opener clutched in one trembling hand.

A letter opener. That was all he’d had to defend himself. I slid it from his finger and he grasped helplessly at the air, so I took his hand and held it. My nail-bitten fingers twinned with his, pale and webbed with purple veins.

“I have to move you,” I told him, sliding one arm under his back and another under his legs. I began to lift, but he moaned and went rigid, so I stopped. As I paused, Ricky knelt beside me and started to help me lift him, until I threw his hands away. I couldn’t bear to hurt him. I couldn’t leave him either, and there was nothing to do but wait, so I gently brushed loose soil from his arms and face and thinning white hair. That’s when I noticed his lips moving.

His voice was barely audible, something less than a whisper. I leaned down and put my ear to his lips. He was mumbling, fading in and out of lucidity, shifting between English and Polish.

“What’s he sayin’?” Ricky said in a hushed voice. Out of the corner of my eye I could see him scanning the undergrowth, jumping at every new noise.

“I don’t understand,” I whispered. I repeated my grandfather's name until his eyes seemed to focus on me, and then he drew a sharp breath and said, quietly but clearly, “Go to the island, Yakob. Here it’s not safe.”

It was the old paranoia. I squeezed his hand and assured him we were fine, he was going to be fine. That was twice in one day that I’d lied to him.

Ricky muttered something about his cell phone connection and stood half way up, not quite out of my grasp.

I asked him what happened, what animal had hurt him, but he wasn’t listening. “Go to the island, Tygyrsku” he repeated. “You’ll be safe there. Promise me.”

“I will. I promise.” What else could I say?

“I thought I could protect you,” he said. “I should’ve told you a long time ago …” I could see the life going out of him.

“Told me what?” I said, choking back tears.

“There’s no time,” he whispered. Then he raised his head off the ground, trembling with the effort, and breathed into my ear: “Find the bird. In the loop. On the other side of the old man’s grave. September third, 1940.” I nodded, but he could see that I didn’t understand. With his last bit of strength, he added, “Emerson—the letter. Tell them what happened, Yakob.”

With that he sank back, spent and fading. I told him I loved him. And then he seemed to disappear into himself, his gaze drifting past me to the sky, bristling now with stars.

A moment later Ricky saw the old man go limp in my arms and jumped up from his place beside me. “Oh man. Oh Jesus. Oh Jesus,” he said, rubbing his face with his hands, and as he babbled about finding a pulse and calling the cops and did you see anything in the woods, the strangest feeling came over me. I looked up, not letting go of my grandfather's hand, every nerve ending tingling with an instinct I didn’t know I had. There was something in the woods, all right—I could feel it.

There was no moon and no movement in the underbrush but our own, and yet somehow I knew just when to raise my flashlight and just where to aim it, and for an instant in that narrow cut of light I saw a face that seemed to have been transplanted directly from the nightmares of my childhood. It stared back with eyes that swam in dark liquid, furrowed trenches of carbon-black flesh loose on its hunched frame, its mouth hinged open grotesquely so that a mass of long eel-like tongues wriggled out as it darted forward. I shouted something as I grabbed for Ricky and then it twisted and was gone, shaking the brush and drawing Ricky’s attention. He raised his .22 and fired, pap-pap-pap-pap, saying, “What was that? What the hell was that?” But he hadn’t seen it and I couldn’t speak to tell him, frozen in place as I was, my dying flashlight flickering over the blank woods. And then I must’ve blacked out because he was saying Jacob, Jake, hey Ed areyouokayorwhat, and that’s the last thing I remember.

[ocean-eyeslnrp]

"I tried to hug her and felt... awkward about it and she said it was fine. So I enjoy her a lot." He laughed at himself and shook his head before pulling his mom into a hug, "as long as I have a say in it, I'm not going anyway. I have no plans of being taken anywhere by anybody and I have no plans to ever leave you.. or Hale. Even if they aren't my biggest fan. I needed the therapy, I know I did. I'm glad you suggested it." He held her a little tighter and nodded, "you deserve the happiness. You've always deserved it. You never deserved what happened in Northland." But he would be lying if didn't say he was shocked by the fact she had been remembering things she though she repressed from there, "do you wanna talk about it? Is that more of a thing you would rather talk to Toni about before talking to me?" He smiled but shook his head, "I can't always just be that little boy though. I have to be productive and there for a while I just felt like I wasn't especially not in the ways you may have needed me to be." His brows raised, "I was hoping maybe the gardens at here at home could be my first showing but I'm open to ideas and suggestions." He smiled at her as she looked over the blue prints, pride swelling in his chest like it had when he brought her his first finger painting before he shook away the feeling to answer her question, "Probably a couple months out, I wanna say we got about six months till construction is finished and I'd like to have one everyone moth till the completion not just for me but for other artist, possibly around Lume?" He shrugged he hadn't quite thought that piece out but he thought it would be a good idea since he wouldn't be the only instructor at his school and he needed artist with more tenure than himself to actually bring the crowds. "I'm taking it easy, planning it myself though. I could use some help on the other shows but the first one I want to handle for the most part."

“I trust her too. She’s helping me with the anxiety I have when you and Hale are out of my sight for too long. Especially you. I have to remind myself no one is trying to take you from me. I’m glad you’re open to it. I was worried you might resent me suggesting it.” She was glad at least the idea was met with a willingness to try. “I hope the happiness lasts. I…I have been remembering more of my time in Northland Falls things I guess I repressed or forgot and things aren’t adding up so, I think that may be why I think another shoe is dropping.” She shook it off not wanting that wave of wild and unfiltered lust for Markus after their encounter to be felt by Viggo by way of her. She grinned happy to hear that Viggo was happy. “Sweetie you’ve never been useless or a burden. You’ve always been and will always be my sweet little boy.” She patted his cheek, knowing that he wasn’t her little guy anymore. “That’s great. I’m glad you’re finally ready to show off your art. You’re talented, and it’s high time everyone gets to see what I see.” She meant that wholeheartedly. She looked at the blueprints with a wide grin on her face. Pride swelled within her. “I’m so proud of you. This looks incredible. Do you have an estimation for when you want to have the showing? Are you planning it yourself, looking for help, or wanting to hire some help? Don’t over-exert yourself though, sweetie.” 

[sunel0]

Everything Has Changed

Happy Birthday @voidstilesplease !

You can read it on AO3

Rating: General Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: M/M

Fandom: Teen Wolf (TV)

Relationship: Theo Raeken/Stiles Stilinski

Characters: Theo Raeken, Stiles Stilinski, Original Child Character(s)

Additional Tags: Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Childhood, Aged-Up Character(s), this fic has a long time frame, Adopted Children, Parenthood, Single Parent Stiles Stilinski, Nurse Theo Raeken, FBI Agent Stiles Stilinski, First Meetings

Words: 4014

***

It wasn't that Stiles was looking for problems to get into, it was just that he was very bored, and he was looking around, and he had eyes.

So he did tend to notice things, and who else was there to investigate them.

It was Stiles' first day in fourth grade when he noticed something strange.

All other kids that were there that early were just drawing something the teacher tricked them into drawing.

Stiles wasn't tricked that easily, so he noticed the strange thing.

There were footprints on the floor. They were dark-blue, edging into purple, a little smaller than Stiles', and they were fading, fast.

Stiles didn't know how he hadn't noticed them before. He looked around, but no one seemed to be paying any attention to him.

He had some time before the beginning of the class, since his mother wasn't feeling too well, and his father had to drop him off before his shift, and there weren't that many kids anyway.

And the prints were fading.

No one seemed to be paying them any attention, either, so Stiles guessed it fell to him to investigate.

His teacher was on her phone, so it wasn't hard to sneak away. Plus Stiles was good at it.

He had to jog a bit to catch up with the footprints before he lost them, and somehow no one asked where he was going, so eventually he got to the nurse's office.

He looked around once more, making sure no one was watching. Having found the corridor empty, and then slowly pushed the door open, not fully, just to be able to peek in. Who knew what might be waiting on the other side. One could never be too careful with these things.

The footprints on the floor were brighter here, more clear. They looked almost like something holographic, glowing just a bit, like a faded glow-in-the-dark sticker on Stiles' bed, but dark and blue.

His eyes followed them to the medical bench. Well, to the floor near the bench off which two feet dangled.

He continued his investigation, his sight sliding up the feet to the legs, to the body, to the face of a boy roughly his age (they were in the same classroom, of course they were the same age, duh) staring at Stiles with huge blue eyes. Light blue, not blue like the footprints.

"Hey," said Stiles.

The boy frowned. Well, more like frowned deeper, because he was already frowning.

"What are you doing here?"

Stiles, seeing that the nurse wasn't anywhere to be, well, seen, walked into the room, closing the door behind him.

"It's the nurse's office, I could have needed help," he waved a hand at the boy. "But what are you doing here? We didn't even have any classes yet, why did you need to go to the nurse?"

The boy waved a thing he held in his hand at Stiles in response, and at first Stiles was about to ask what it was, but then he realized he actually knew what it was. It was an inhaler. A nurse's son he met in the hospital one of those times when his mom needed to see a doctor needed one, too, and explained it to Stiles.

"Oh," said Stiles.

"And I asked first," said the boy, crossing his arms over his chest, the scowl on his face still firmly in place.

Stiles stepped closer, crossing his arms behind his back.

"I saw footprints on the floor and that led me here."

The boy's frown impossibility deepened further. Stiles was fascinated and wanted to find out how much deeper it can go.

"What is this supposed to mean?"

Stiles made a couple more steps into the room, and the boy's eyes snapped to something on the ground behind him, going round. He wasn't frowning anymore, which was nice. Stiles liked what his face looked better like this way.

Stiles looked where the boy was looking there but couldn't see anything. He started frowning himself but then, it hit him.

He almost jumped, swirling to stare up at the boy on the bench.

"Can you see mine, too? I can't see it!"

The boy nodded slowly, still staring at something that wasn't there for Stiles.

Stiles beamed, running into the bench, jostling it.

"We must be magical!"

The boy nodded again, coughing a bit, bringing the inhaler to his mouth and inhaling some of the medicine.

"I'm Stiles," Stiles introduced himself. "Since we both are magical, we should be friends. I don't think anyone else could see your footprints, and I didn't see anyone else's!"

"I'm Theo," said the boy.

***

It took Stiles an embarrassing amount of time and a number of facts presented to him by the world around him to realize what the footprints meant. He agreed that the chances of him catching it the first time he saw them were low, he was very little after all, but later, when he already knew about soulmates as more than an abstract concept people sometimes talked about in cartoons, he could've figured it out.

But with all his investigative abilities it didn't hit him until Allison told him about a story about her cousin who found his soulmate in the same way Stiles found Theo that freaking first day of their fourth grade.

He felt so dumb about the whole thing, he hadn't told anyone that he had already met his soulmate, he was just missing somewhere, maybe even dead or something. Same way Theo and he never told anyone about the whole thing.

In his defence, it's hard to figure out what is a soulmate thing when everyone has a different soulmate thing. Scott and Allison had little tattoos that changed color when they were touching. Lydia and Jackson felt each other's pain (that was why Lydia hated lacrosse but was still a supportive girlfriend; Stiles admired her so much). Stiles' parents couldn't see color until they met.

Stiles and Theo apparently saw each other's footprints.

Such a bizarre thing to have.

Anyway. It was complicated, okay, it wasn't very obvious.

At least that was what Stiles told himself, fighting off the sneaky thoughts that he actually could've figured all of it out earlier.

But either way, it didn't matter anymore, did it? Theo was God knows where, doing God knows what, and hopefully being as oblivious as Stiles had been until Allison decided to share a fairly funny story with him. Because while Theo would have no problem finding Stiles, Stiles didn't really want to have his soulmate around with all the supernatural shit happening. Because Stiles didn't want to put him in danger by accident, even if the only thing connecting them by now was the thin bond of inexplicable magic.

This was a pretty selfish reason, though.

After seeing what his mother's death did to his father, Stiles didn't want to risk it.

***

At least he thought he would be risking it.

Until the first day of his senior year.

Those first days were after him, weren't they?

At first, he thought he was seeing things.

Well, technically he was seeing things.

Things being footsteps on the ground.

He thought that maybe it was the pouring rain screwing with something in his perception, or maybe it had something to do with the guy Scott and Kira were fighting. Stiles just couldn't be seeing what he thought he was seeing.

Because there was literally no reason for Stiles to see the dark-red prints on the ground.

After the fight was won, when they were trying to figure out what had happened, Stiles still couldn't comprehend it.

He caught Theo looking at something next to Stiles' feet and shuffled uncomfortably.

Theo caught his eyes, a little half-smile, half-smirk on his lip, making Stiles frown.

All of this was wrong.

This person might be his soulmate, but it wasn't the person Stiles saw in the nurse's office at the end of the deep blue path all those years ago. Stiles knew it.

***

After that, Stiles chose to vehemently ignore the issue. He was dead set on never bringing it up. Pretend he didn't have a soulmate at all. Not roll his eyes at Scott's "you wouldn't understand until you find them".

Because Stiles had found his. And he still didn't understand.

Theo wasn't… right. Stiles remembered this little boy who was quiet to the point of coming across as shy, but so quick to react, so ready to get into any kind of trouble and cause it himself, and so, so full of anger, Stiles sometimes thought he was like Tinker Bell -- he could feel only one emotion at one moment of time, and for Theo this emotion was for the most part sheer anger.

This Theo, the one that was slowly carving his way into the pack, had absolutely nothing in common with that Theo. This one was friendly, and communicable, and generally chill. Just your friendly neighborhood werewolf. It just didn't make sense.

Yes, Stiles was aware that therapy existed, but it still didn't make sense. This was pretty much a completely different person. He couldn't see pretty much anything left from the boy he once knew.

He wouldn't have believed it was Theo at all.

Except Stiles still saw those damned footprints, dark red -- almost like venous blood -- on the field during lacrosse practices all the time.

They were distracting.

But despite it Stiles didn't believe this Theo. Something wasn't right. Things weren't adding up, no matter what Scott wanted to believe in.

People changed, but not like this.

Stiles wasn't going to let this Theo get under his skin.

***

Or at least he really wanted to believe that he wasn't going to.

Theo was getting under his skin while still keeping up this facade of his.

Well, mostly.

Things weren't getting better in general. Everything kept deteriorating. Stiles' relationship with Scott was literally bursting at the seams. Stiles' ties to the pack were breaking in front of his eyes.

Theo seemed to be way too comfortable among all of this.

And Stiles had also killed a person.

In self-defence, but still.

As soon as he realized what exactly happened, he knew Scott was going to push him away completely.

In hindsight, Theo definitely knew what he was doing reminding Stiles that they were bonded forever. He knew how and when to play his cards. Even that not-quite-kiss on the hospital roof. Theo knew when it was best to try to get to Stiles, when the emotions were so high and confusing, Stiles could have followed him.

But he still didn't.

Theo didn't get what he wanted.

Maybe what both of them wanted, really.

***

Looking back, Stiles did realize that things went by faster than he could actually process. Ever since Scott got bitten, Stiles just didn't know how he managed to get through those couple of years.

It was a whirlpool that sucked him in and spewed him out on the other side, disoriented and lost.

The Dread Doctors were killed.

Theo went to hell.

Stiles got stolen by the Wild Hunt.

Theo got out of the hell, and somehow it looked like only Lydia and Mason found it suspicious that out of everyone only he remembered Stiles when Stiles technically didn't even exist anymore, but neither said anything.

Stiles appreciated it.

Stiles did his best not to cross paths with Theo. Not then, not when he came back to help out with Monroe and all of that, to the point of turning the other way in the grocery store once when he saw the red footprints on the ground.

Theo didn't try to talk to him.

Stiles didn't want him to. He didn't care that they were soulmates. He didn't want to deal with all of that. He didn't have the capacity.

So he decided to continue pretending that he didn't have a soulmate. It was better this way.

It was time for him to change things, to grow and leave things behind.

***

Stiles looked down at the clock on his dashboard and breathed out through his teeth. He couldn't say that he was running late, since he didn't have an exact time to be there, but he really wanted to get there as soon as he could.

New York traffic told him otherwise.

He wondered if he should call the school but he didn't know what he would say, so he didn't.

He tapped the wheel impatiently. These were things he didn't really expect to be doing all of a sudden. Just five months ago, in Mai, he was a standard average FBI detective working weekends sometimes, mostly single and not seemingly concerned about it (he was concerned, kind of, but in the world where everyone is looking for their soulmate it often got awkward; he didn't really want to lie about Theo being dead, but then everyone thought that it can be only temporary, and… it was complicated). Technically also helping out a local pack, not that anyone would really guess this part.

And look at him now driving to an elementary school because, well, when they found this little werewolf girl he couldn't just walk away from her, could he? Becoming a single father wasn't exactly his life plan, but he had received good training in rolling with punches.

Things changed fast around him, and he should've been ready for anything by now, shouldn't he?

However, he still didn't know what he was going to say to the nurse who would definitely see that his little (almost) daughter healed from the "maybe broken, oh my god, I'm so sorry" nose her teacher called Stiles about.

Stiles would probably just have to play dumb. "Oh God, how is this possible, I have no idea, no, let's keep it quiet for now, it must've been just some bleeding" kind of thing. And then switch schools. Just to be sure.

Maybe he should ask the pack where their kids went, so Lesley wasn't the only child like that there.

Stiles still hadn't figured out what he was going to say by the time he parked in front of the school.

After getting inside and finding out where the nurse's office was supposed to be, Stiles flew down the corridor, as quietly as he could. There was no chance of Lasley not healing by then but Stiles still had to rush, he was a concerned parent after all.

Well, he still was, what if Lesley was scared or something?

With the needed door already in sight, something else caught Stiles' attention.

He stopped dead in his tracks, almost falling over, seeing dark-purple footprints on the floor, glowing slightly and fading slowly.

This couldn't be it. He had moved across the country. He had almost a whole new life. It didn't make sense.

He blinked.

The prints faded a bit, but were still there.

He suddenly realized that he actually had no idea what Theo ended up doing with his life. He didn't think about Theo that often, so that wasn't a surprising conclusion. He knew that Liam, Hayden, Mason and Corey kept in contact with him, but Stiles just never cared to ask.

Well, not exactly never cared, more like never gave into the curiosity. Of course he wanted to know.

Theo was his soulmate, no matter what Stiles chose to pretend for the most of his life. If nothing else, he was simply too deeply conditioned by the culture to care.

But also… he did care. They did have history. Stiles couldn't get away from that. Neither of them could, not really.

And maybe fate knew what it was doing.

Eyes on the footprints, Stiles followed the purple trail.

Somewhere in the back of his mind he also realized that he had never asked Theo what color his own prints were. Not even as a child. Had his own ones changed color as well?

Just at the door to the nurse's office, he heard voices inside.

Lesley's cheery one cut easily through the door:

"But I don't like water! Can I have soda instead? Or maybe some juice?"

He couldn't exactly hear the answer, it was too low, he mostly caught just the general intonation and the sound of a voice.

A very familiar voice. A very unfamiliar intonation.

Theo he used to new could never sound this warm.

But then, Stiles felt like things could've changed.

And apparently Argent's new little prototype of a device that was supposed to cover Stiles' presence worked, because it looked like neither Lesley, nor Theo noticed him just behind the door. He should report that the tests finally went well.

Stiles drew in a deep breath and pushed down on the handle, opening the door.

To be met with two pairs of slightly startled eyes.

Werewolves, even the little ones, weren't used to being ambushed like that. He could see this in the tense line of Theo's shoulders and legs, his whole figure ready to jump up from where he was crouching in front of the bench and Lesley on it, and even in Lesley's hands pressed down into the bench beneath her.

They both relaxed as soon as they realized it was just Stiles.

"Daddy!" Lesley pushed the plastic cup of water into Theo's hands and jumped off the bench, throwing herself onto Stiles.

He caught her almost without looking, his eyes fixed on Theo.

"Daddy, doctor Raeken knows about…" at that point she figures out that she shouldn't probably tell about werewolves in the middle of the corridor in the school: "about grrrr," she made a very angry face, baring her teeth.

Stiles pressed a little kiss to her forehead, quickly checking that she didn't look to be actually injured or even scared anymore, there was just some blood on her shirt.

"I figured, yeah. You okay?" After her little nod, he turned to Theo.

There was a moment of silence, Theo standing across from them with the cup of water in his hand, looking way better than anyone should be allowed to in this uniform.

"Doctor Raeken?" Stiles asked, almost feeling the need to clear his throat.

Theo scoffed, leaning back against the table.

"No. I probably wouldn't be working as a nurse in an elementary school."

Stiles hummus in agreement.

The silence fell over them again. Neither of them moved despite Lesley starting to wave her legs in the air impatiently.

"So you're a father now, huh?" Theo asked.

Stiles pressed his daughter a bit closer to him, protectively, glancing at her.

She was way too invested in getting a little thread out of the shoulder seam of his sweater.

"Yeah. As of four months now. Finalizing the adoption papers."

Theo nodded slowly. He pushed himself away from the table.

"She should drink some water, it helps after healing," he smiled at Lesley, "and no, soda doesn't work, it's not that same as water."

Lesley made a face at him.

Theo chuckled quietly.

Stiles' heart aches strangely at the sound, almost as if he missed it.

"Try not to fall so noticeably next time, this time I can just say that it wasn't broken, just bleeding, but it might get harder to explain. Okay?" He was looking directly and strictly at Lesley, who beamed back.

"Okay. That's what Daddy has been telling me, too!"

"That's right. Your Daddy knows about these things. And now I need to do some paperwork, and you can go home," Theo waved at Lesley, nodding at Stiles and turning to his table.

Stiles didn't know what to do.

He automatically almost turned around to walk away, letting Lesley down, watching her immediately skip away toward the school exit.

He made a step to follow, but then stopped.

He didn't really think at the moment. He just did what felt right, his heart beating loud in his ears.

He turned back to Theo.

"You know what? I feel like we need to exchange phone numbers. In case Lesley does hurt herself again, I feel like this would be better than the teacher calling me. You know because that… this makes sense. Yeah. So I would know who is calling and you would know who to call."

Theo turned to him slowly, eyebrows raised, eyes studying Stiles, face impenetrable.

Stiles caught himself at the last moment from stepping from one foot to another nervously.

And then that damned little smirk appeared. Theo might have changed, they both probably have. He might be older, maybe a little bit taller, looking like someone's wet dream with that stubble in this blue uniform (Stiles', not someone's, he looked like Stiles' wet dream, and he really didn't want to think about it, not having his little werewolf daughter with him in the car all the way home, Jesus), which worked amazing with his eyes, but that infuriating smirk threw Stiles right back into high school. Into feeling somewhere between infuriated, on the verge of a panic attack, and very, very horny.

"Yes, because this absolutely does make sense. Totally," he extended his hand forward, and Stiles just stared at it for a second. "Your phone? So I could put my number there?"

This was a terrible idea.

Stiles fumbled for his phone, unlocking it.

Just as Theo was giving it back, Lesley ran straight into Stiles' side.

"Daddy, are you coming?"

"Yeah, sweetheart, I'm coming," he put his hand onto her head gently, his side totally not hurting.

"Bye, Doctor Raeken!" Lesley yelled, grabbing Stiles hand and dragging him away.

Theo waved at them, the smirk sliding into a half-smile.

***

Stiles hated that he couldn't concentrate on what Lesley was telling him on the way home, he didn't want to be one of those parents, but he couldn't keep his heart from beating way too fast in his chest still, his palms slightly sweaty.

He didn't think he was ever going to have his soulmate. He knew who he was, but there was so much history there, he didn't think it was possible for them to figure it out and for it to work.

He thought it was better this way.

But recently he was reminded that things could change very fast. People could change.

Just in five months his life has changed completely with just an accidental meeting. He was a father now. And yes, he had to think about Lesley as well now, but if things changed for him so much in such a short time, what could've happened with Theo in the over ten years they haven't seen each other? Who was Stiles to say things weren't possible? Maybe things were going to work out now. They would have to talk a lot, figure out where they were standing, how they were going to proceed, but was Stiles ever scared of complicated? No, he wasn't. Never had been.

Another realization of the day sneaked its way into hitting Stiles right in the face. He desperately wanted to give it a try. He actually wanted for it to work out.

He was going to try.

Because things change. People change. He wasn't who he was in high school. His friends weren't.

Maybe Theo wasn't either. He most likely wasn't. He couldn't imagine either of the Theo's he had known, the real and the fake one, even choosing to work with kids.

Only when Stiles almost got them home did he understand that he forgot to give Theo his number.

He unlocked his phone, seeing a message from a contact named just ;).

I'm a school nurse, I have your number;)

And some things never changed, did they?

"Daddy, can we get out already?"

"Mmm, yeah, sorry."

Stiles pushed his phone into his pocket, feeling it vibrate again as he was undoing Lesley's seatbelt.

As he let her into the house and closed the door, he took his phone back out.

I'm also free on Friday after 6

Stiles typed out a quick I'll see you then and went to make his daughter some lunch.

Things did change. They were always changing.

[stargaze-issei]

— "𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮" (𝐭. 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐨 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭; after losing you, todoroki moves on with his life. you know you never stopped loving him, and he's desperately wants you back. but life has a funny way to do things.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞; angst.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬; none.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭; 1.8k

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞; this is a continuation from this ficlet, so probably there are a few things you won't understand if you haven't read it. anyways, enjoy.

you had moved on, and to say it had been hard was an understatement. you absolutely believed todoroki was your soulmate, but when you found out what he did, it simply devastated you. even thinking of him made your heart ache. you knew you made the right choice, getting out of every shared space you two had, distancing from everything that reminded you of him. transferring to shiketsu was by far the best way. of course, you had to leave all your friends, but they would always be one call away.

for todoroki it was the other way around. no matter how hard he tried, everything had a piece of you in it. his room was full of memories with you, all the times you fell asleep on his bed, your study sessions that always ended up in something more, you dancing and singing to mamma mia's soundtrack. he ended up staying at midoriya's most days, but even then, he would think about you. it was his default mode, somehow, his mind always went back to you.

he shut down completely after seeing you with yoarashi, no one could make him talk about his beloved or his feelings. he started to go to the gym more often, train alone in the woods at night. he barely slept, and as soon as he woke up, he'd start exercising. he was so tired that he didn't think of you. that was his way of moving on, though in every sense of the word, he never actually did.

*.✧☆ﾟ.*･｡✧*⊰⊹ฺ

focusing all his life in becoming a hero, he came first of the class with a big gap. at his twenties, he opened his own hero agency. since your break up, he never had another partner, too afraid that no one could be like you, make him feel what you did.

in your case, after graduating you went to work with mirko. everyone knew you being her sidekick. it wasn't weird to hear about your ex boyfriend on the news, he had achieve all his goals in life, and that made you happy. you no longer held any remorse against him. he was a good person who made a mistake, of course you had forgiven him.

"so, [hero name], you've been going up in the charts like a rocket, could you be thinking about starting your own agency? some heroes, like shoto, are already making their way through the industry" the interviewer asked you. for the first time since highschool, someone asked you about todoroki as a hero.

"i love working with mirko, she's amazing and i think i still have a lot to learn from her. i do admire heroes like shoto, he's undeniably good at what he does, but i think is still too soon for me" you smiled when you mentioned him. even after all those years, when todoroki watched that interview, he caught on those little details. it felt good hear you saying his name again.

*.✧☆ﾟ.*･｡✧*⊰⊹ฺ

it's confirmed! pro hero y/n and yoarashi inasa are getting married! the rumors were confirmed by a picture posted on their social media accounts showing their engagement rings and captioning "she said yes/he finally asked". we are w–.

to todoroki, it was extra hard that you were marrying you highscool boyfriend. he couldn't stop thinking, if he hadn't messed up, you would be marrying him. an hour later, midoriya called.

"how are you?" even though izuku was trying to not be obvious, shoto knew what he meant.

"in another timeline, y/n and i would be getting married".

*.✧☆ﾟ.*･｡✧*⊰⊹

todoroki finally met someone, you heard on the gossip chanel. great, that was great, he deserved to feel the happiness you felt with inasa, right? of course he did. he was an amazing boyfriend, any person would be lucky to have him, you were happy for him. that was what that knot in your throat was, that sudden urge to cry. come on, you couldn't be so selfish, you were getting married with another man, you broke up five years ago, why were you so upset?. it's not that you dreamed about him at least twice a week, or that you heard his voice clear as water even when you hadn't spoke in so long. you love inasa, stop having those thoughts. you decided with whom you'd be spending your life with years ago, it was about time todoroki moved on too.

"...and i didn't know what to say, but he was so persistent. anyways, i told him we were going to discuss it, what do you think?" your fiance's hand was moving in front of your eyes, trying to catch your attention back.

"can you repeat it, please? i-i got distracted" he smiled at you, kindly. he always did that. no matter what you did, inasa was the kindest person to you, because he genuinely loved you.

"one of my advisors gave me a list with all the pro heros we had to invite to the wedding, i told him we'll talk about it" he pulled out a paper from his briefcase with a lot of names printed on it "give it a look while i take a shower" he got up, kissing your head on his way to the bathroom. most of the names were your old classmates from u.a. and shiketsu, some of your teachers and heroes of the moment.

ground zero, red riot, creati, charge bolt, shoto, cellophane, deku, froppy[...].

you stared at his name for longer than you thought, because inasa came out of the bathroom only with a towel, asking your opinion on the matter. he knew you dated todoroki back in highschool, but obviously didn't think you had feelings for him now. because you didn't. you didn't, you couldn't.

"yeah, okay, let's invite them".

*.✧☆ﾟ.*･｡✧*⊰⊹ฺ

todoroki's jaw almost hit the floor when the invitation arrived at his mailbox. his girlfriend, a model he met at an event, laughed at his reaction. were you actually asking him to go to your wedding? it seemed like a cruel joke to him. the cruelest of jokes.

"isn't she one of your classmates from u.a., baby?" his girlfriend asked, taking the paper out of his hands. he never talked about you, with anyone, not even with midoriya. your chapter had been closed by force, locking all your memories away. but that lock was always on the verge of breaking, something as small as saying your name could unleash his buried feelings.

he was so confused. his irrational side was screaming to accept the invitation, eager to face you again. but he knew it would hurt him. he knew it, if he thought about it enough, he still remembered how his heart break years ago. his mind kept wondering back to you, how beautiful you would look in your white dress, your eyes filled with excitement. it was too much for him to handle.

"yes, i will let them know we're going".

*.✧☆ﾟ.*･｡✧*⊰⊹ฺ

somewhere in yourself, you wished todoroki hadn't replied. in that same place, it hurt to see the "plus one" option marked. right, he had a girlfriend. a girlfriend he most likely cherished, in some level at least. it was okay, you had a boyfriend, a boyfriend you were going to marry in two months. both of you had moved on. maybe repeating that to yourself would convince you.

*.✧☆ﾟ.*･｡✧*⊰⊹ฺ

he got up that morning and went for a jog, like when he was a teenager trying to get off his mind the girl who broke his heart. we could say he was trying to do the same thing.

the only reason you got up in time was because uraraka knocked on your door. inasa had gone to a friend's house at night, arguing he wasn't going to see the bride before the wedding. if it was supposed to be the happiest day of your life, then what is that pain in your chest?.

"you have to hurry, the ceremony starts at four,  we're meeting midoriya at three and you haven't even showered!" todoroki practically was forced into the shower by the girl, he had no will to get himself ready. what was he thinking? he clearly loved you, as much as always, why did he agree to see you marrying someone else?.

everything was ready, just as planned. like in the movies, you were expecting some sort of crisis to happen and could cancel the wedding with an excuse, but it wasn't the case. things were perfect. your hair, your dress, your make up, even the guests arrived just on time. you felt like puking.

not a single thing was out of place, that was certainly planned by you. he could see your unique touch in decorations, colors, even how tables were distributed. and he could point at everything yoarashi had done, because it didn't match at all. it was like a stain in your perfect design, a stain he couldn't remove or avoid anywhere he looked.

uraraka had to grab your arm when the music started to play, and push you out to the aisle. inasa was waiting on the other side. he looked so beautiful and happy, his eyes overflowed with love. but your eyes got lost in the crowd, searching for a certain pair of heterochromatic eyes.

you were like an angel fell from heaven. todoroki expected you to look pretty, but it was mind blowing. he was standing next to a pillar in order to get a perfect view from you. he felt his legs weakened when your eyes connected.

"do you, yoarashi inasa, take this woman to be your wife, to have and to hold[...]?" you couldn't see todoroki from the altar, and it was unbearable. all you wanted was to look back into his eyes again.

"yes, i do" inasa's voice was so determined, that you realized what was happening. before you knew, the priest was saying your vows.

he couldn't watch. he tried, but just couldn't. when he said the priest saying your name, he had to turned around.

you were sure that with one look, you'd knew if shoto still loved you. that was all you needed to go back to him, to see his eyes.

"[...] till death do you apart?" it was now or never. you turned your head, heart beating like a drum. please, please, love me.

oh how much he loved you. as you once said, his undying love for you was so big, that's tearing him apart. a single tear left his eye.

he wasn't even looking. he didn't love you anymore. a lonely tear ran down your cheek. you were too late, you had lost him. "yes, i do".

he had lost you, again. 

[outlawsworld]

Trusting Strangers - Chapter 11

Arthur Morgan x Female reader

Summary: Arthur and reader have agreed not to let the camp know about their relationship but when Micha threatens you things start to surface.

Warnings: violence, swearing and fluff

Notes: Sorry it took me a bit longer then expected to get this chapter finished. I kept on deleting and rewriting it. I really hope you like it, please like and reblog if you do.

Chapter 1

--

  The morning light blinded you when you woke. You had to squint to allow your eyes time to get used to the brightness. Waking up in your tent was always slightly dark and gloomy but you had slept under the stars last night. You had woken up exactly how you fell asleep, laid in the grass opening surrounded by trees. With your head resting on Arthur's broad chest, your legs were now entangled slightly and his arms wrapped around you pulling your body close to his. His body was radiating heat which only made you cling onto him more. It had been a cold night and you hadn't made a campfire so that you could see as many stars in the night sky as possible. Waking up in Arthur's embrace sparked a fire in your chest and your smile beamed from ear to ear. You tilted your head up slowly to see that he was also awake.

''Mornin' beautiful'' his voice was husky as he had only just woken up. He smiled as he looked down to see your face looking up at him. Arthur's eyes were bright in the morning light, he looked well rested for once. His words made your heart flutter and you could feel the warm rush of blood to your cheeks.

''Mornin' Arthur'' you spoke sweetly. He leant down to place a kiss on your forehead. The both of you laid together for a while holding each other closely. You never wanted this moment to end however, knew you would both have to go back to camp eventually. You sat up, leaving Arthur's arms, making you shiver as the cold air brushed over you. ''I don't want to go back'' you admitted. "Not yet, anyway" Arthur sat up next to you smirking at your comment.

''Me neither'' he smiled nudging you slightly with his elbow. ''But you need some food. We didn't have much to eat yesterday so you must be starvin'.'' he stood up and held out his hand to you. The mention of food made your stomach growl, you had completely forgotten about food whilst being completely entranced in Arthur's company. You took Arthur's hand and he helped you to your feet. As you were about to turn and walk over to Siego, you felt Arthur's hand pull on yours spinning you back into his arms. His arms were now wrapped around your waist, pulling your body into his. Arthur looked deeply into your eyes. ''You ain't gettin' away that easy'' he smiled cheekily before leaning down and kissing you. Each kiss the two of you shared felt even better then the last. You wrapped your arms around his neck and stood on your tiptoes to allow the kiss to deepen. It was like the world around you disappeared, leaving just the two of you together. You were unsure when the next time the both of you would be alone together so you had to make the most of the time you had. A nickering sounds jumped you both back into reality. You broke the kiss to see what had caused the noise, with your hand placed on your holster ready for someone to appear. When you realised it was just Siego you both began to laugh at your reactions.

''Come on, Cowboy'' you tapped the brim of Arthur's hat causing it to cover his eyes. He released you from his embrace to sort his hat back on top of his head. You took this opportunity to run to Siego and mount the saddle. Arthur smirked and cocked an eyebrow at you.

''And what do you think you're doin'?'' he chuckled at you.

''It's my turn to ride and your turn to sit there lookin' pretty'' you teased him. He shook his head at you with an amused smile. You held your hand out to help him up as he mounted to sit behind you. He placed his hands on your waist and you couldn't help the smirk on your face.

"Shut up" Arthur scoffed as you rode back to camp. You could tell he wasn't enjoying being the passenger on his own horse which only made you tease him more.

The camp wasn't far from where you were. You hoped, as you rode into camp, that you and Arthur would be able to sneak off to on occasions to spend time alone under the stars. You both were very private people so you weren't too keen on telling the whole camp about your relationship. The thought of being pestered and asked questions on the subject was daunting. Talking about your feelings to one another was hard enough, never mind telling others as well. You both decided for now to keep your relationship between the two of you and when you were ready you would tell the others.

''Who's there?'' Javier called out to you.

''Arthur, you dumbass'' Arthur yelled back. You smirked at his comment as Javier rolled his eyes.

''Welcome back'' Javier spoke sarcastically before turning back to watch the track into camp. You both dismounted and you hitched Siego to the post. The smell of food made your stomach cramp as you made your way over to Pearson's cart. Arthur passed you some bread with jam and an apple before grabbing his own food.

''Go on, get yourself a coffee. I need to go talk to Lenny'' Arthur gestured at the young man sitting on a log looking out over the water. You nodded in reply before heading to sit by the fire. Charles was sitting on one of the logs as you made your way over to sit beside him.

''You're alive then?'' he smiled up at you as you took your seat.

''Just about'' you smirked as you began to tuck into your food.

"Good, I was beginning to wonder where you had gotten too" Charles was busy stringing his bow. "I nearly went out looking for you this morning" he looked at you relieved.

"Thanks Charles, I just got lost in the dark. Luckily, Arthur found me" you lied. Your cheeks were aching from smiling at the thought of last night as you ate your food. Charles was too focused on his bow to notice. You glanced over to the horses when the sudden realisation that you still hadn't checked to see if Dallas had returned to camp flooded you. You stuffed the last bit of bread into your mouth as you stood from the log and ran over to the horses. ''Shit, shit, shit'' you whispered under your breath as you couldn't see him with the others.

''You looking for Dallas?'' Charles ran after you.

''Yes, have you seen him?'' your voice was slightly panicked as you scanned the camp.

''No, I haven't but I'm sure he will be fine'' he reassured you.

''What's going on?'' Hosea asked as he approached you with John following close behind.

''Dallas hasn't come back'' you took a deep breath to try and relax. You know that to some people it would seem silly to get worried over a horse but Dallas was more than that. He was not only a very good horse but he was a gift from Arthur.

''Well I ain't doing anything today so we can go find him'' John patted Charles on the shoulder as he made his way over to Old Boy. "You comin' Charles?".

''I can't, I've got to go hunting or Pearson will never stop pestering me'' Charles sighed.

''Take Silver Dollar, my girl. I'm sure you and John will find him soon enough'' Hosea pointed to his horse. He must have sensed the concern in your voice as he tried to reassure you. ''Now, he's got a good spirit but don't let him get the better of you'' he took you over to his horse and patted him on the neck as you mounted up.

''Thank you Hosea. I'll take good care of him'' you smiled at him.

''I know you will'' he patted your leg. ''You better get going''. You looked over to see John was mounted and ready to go so you spurred Silver Dollar into a trot and headed out of camp. John followed closely behind you until you came to the open road where he rode next to you.

''So where do we start?'' John asked.

''I have no idea'' you sighed feeling like this might be a lost cause. ''He could be anywhere by now''.

''We will find him, don't worry'' John smiled assuringly at you. ''Where did you last see him? We can start there''. You nodded and told John what happened yesterday. With that you rode out to the house where you last saw Dallas. The both of you stayed hidden in the woods as you approached the house. You didn't want to get caught by any patrols that may still be lerking in the area. The barn where you had hidden only hours ago was now a pile of ash. You could smell the burnt timber and the smoke that was still rising to the air. Bodies were laying motionless in the grass that hadn't been moved yet. It looked as though no one was around but you didn't want to spend too much time lingering just in case. ''Looks like you had a fun night'' John smirked at you as you glanced around to see any sign of the missing horse.

''I wouldn't have put it that way'' you glanced at him innocently. ''I think he went this way, through the woods'' you pointed in the direction away from the house. John took the lead and followed in the direction you pointed. He managed to find some hoof prints in the soft ground below. You both followed them as it was the only lead you had.

''So how are you holdin' up? Last time we spoke you were drunk as hell'' he chuckled at you. You shook your head as you pinched the bridge of your nose.

''I'm alright, don't remind me'' you smirked. ''I never thanked you for looking after me John. I would have been a lot worse the next mornin' if it weren't for you''.

''Ahh It's the least I can do'' John smiled sweetly at you.

''How about yourself? How are you holding up?'' you asked as you scanned the floor, making sure you were still following the right tracks.

''I'm as good as I can be'' John replied with his eyes hidden by the brim of his hat. You sensed something was off with him but you couldn't quite tell what it was.

''Is something wrong?'' you questioned shyly, scanning his face for his reaction. For the first time in a long time you properly looked at John. His deep cuts were now just healed scars across his face and lip. His black hair just grazing his shoulders but was mostly hidden by his hat dark grey hat. John had dark features and short black stubble gracing his face. He was only in his mid twenties but looked like he had lived many lives already. You could understand why Abigail felt the way she did about John, he was clearly a very handsom man. He was smaller in fame compared to Arthur and Charles but he was still well built and strong. He let out a long sigh before looking back at you. John's eyes caught yours and you could see the sadness in them.

''It's Jack and Abigail. I know I haven't been great to either of them but whenever I try I just seem to mess things up. We just fight constantly and I'm tired of it'' he shook his head turning his gaze to the floor again. ''I don't even know how to talk to my own son'' he scoffed.

''I'm sorry John, It ain't a situation I know a lot about'' you paused. You knew how hard everything was for both John and Abigail. They hadn't gotten off to the best start when John took off and left both Abigail and Jack for a whole year. John was now trying to amend his mistakes but Abigail still held a grudge, which you could understand. ''I know it's tiring but don't give up on em. They need you more then you know. Abigail is just givin' you a hard time because she's been through a lot. It ain't right but you have to understand the reasons why she's actin' like she is'' you gave John a weak smile. You wanted to be there for him, much like how he is always there for you but you had no idea what you could say to help.

''Yeah I guess'' he smiled back. ''What an idiot I have been. I shouldn't have run off like that but I guess I just wasn't ready for such a commitment''.

''You'll make up for it. I know you will'' you looked deeply into his eyes to try and assure him that everything will work itself out.

"We will see. I wish she was as easy to speak to as you, (Y/N)" John chuckled.

"I..." You were cut off by a loud screech coming from deeper in the woods. It sounded like an animal in pain and without thinking you spurred the horses on in the direction it was coming from. As you approached you could hear the screeching getting louder. At the bottom of a hill, hidden behind some trees you spotted Dallas struggling to move. He had his leg trapped in a snare set out by hunters to catch game. Quickly, you dismounted and ran over to him. The leg that was caught was bleeding from where the wire was cutting deeper into his leg. You could see the white of his eye, he was breathing heavily as he was panicking. He was trying to break free from the trap which only tightened the wire around his leg. ''Whoa, calm down boy. It's alright'' you managed to grab the reins and pat his neck to try and calm him down. John was looking over the trap to try and find where the wire was tied so that he could release it. You were flooded with guilt as you looked into Dallas' terrified face. He had been here all night, scared and in pain, while you were cuddling up to Arthur. John managed to release the wire, causing Dallas to try and bolt as he felt he was now free. You clung to the reins as he battled with you to let him go. ''Steady boy. You're okay now'' you spoke calmly. It wasn't long before Dallas calmed enough for John to remove the wire from his leg.

''There you are fella'' he patted the black stallion. ''See, he's alright'' he assured you as he threw the wire to the side. You looked at the deep gash around Dallas' pastern where the wire had been tightened. It wasn't deep but it looked sore and could get infected if not treated properly.

''Lets get you back to camp boy'' you felt relieved. You decided to lead Dallas back so tied his reins to the horn of Hosea's saddle before mounting Silver Dollar. ''Didn't think I would see you again, my friend'' you giggled as you and John headed back towards camp. ''Thank you for helpin' me find him John'' you shouted to John who was leading the way back.

''My pleasure'' he smiled back at you whilst tipping his hat. ''I'm just glad we found him. I know how much you care for him". The two of you rode slowly as Dallas was hobbling slightly on his injured leg. John began telling you stories of when he was young and how Dutch taught him how to read and write. You laughed along as he told you how Dutch would loose his patients when John couldn't get the hang of it. It was early evening by the time you had made it back to camp. You were greeted by Hosea and Dutch at the hitching posts.

''Ahh so you found him'' Dutch bellowed over to you as you approached them.

''Yeah, he was caught on a snare, no wonder he didn't come back'' you nodded as you dismounted Silver Dollar. ''Thank you for lettin' me borrow him Hosea'' you untied Dallas' reins from the saddle and hitched him on the post.

''Not a problem my girl. I gather he looked after you well'' he smiled at you tieing HS horse to the post.

"He did indeed" you turned to patt Silver Dollar on his neck and feed him a carrot from your bag.

''John, (Y/N), I have a job for you both'' Dutch caught your attention. You all gathered round the hitching post as Dutch explained the job. ''I need you both to look into something for me. Sheriff Grey told me about a couple of horses at the Braithwaite property. I don't know the in's and out's but if you could go to the Greys plantation at some point to find out more, I think there will be some money in it for us'' Dutch's voice was eager when he mentioned the money.

''Sure, Dutch'' you nodded.

''We can go tomorrow mornin'. First thing'' John agreed.

''Brilliant. I knew you two would be up to the job'' Dutch exclaimed as he patted you both on the shoulder. ''Oh, take Javier with you too'' he instructed before him and Hosea took their leave. You turned your attention back to Dallas' cut, luckily the bleeding had stopped now so you grabbed some water to clean the wound. John stayed with you as he brushed down Old Boy and Charles came to help when he got back from hunting. He gave you some herbs to put on the cut to stop infections which you gently applied to Dallas' leg. Once you were done, the three of you made your way back into camp to get some food. You noticed that Micah was back. He hadn't been at camp since Arthur had broken him out of jail but you saw him sat by the fire as you made your way over. You had only ever spoken to Micah once or twice but you always remembered him being cruel when you were tied to the wagon all those weeks ago. He used to threaten to kill you or would spit at you as he walked by. Nothing about the man was likable to you, so you were not so pleased he was back.

''Scarface, you happy to see me back?'' Micah directed his question at John as he chuckled under his breath.

''Micah, I would have preferred to see you hang'' John spat back at him as you all sat around the fire.

''Oh, no need to be like that'' Micah threw his hands in the air in defence. You kept quiet, you didn't want to draw his attention to you so you just ate your food silently. By the time you had finished your stew and a bottle of beer the rest of camp had joined you round the fire. Sadie and Tilly came and sat next to you and you spoke to them about where you eventually found Dallas. Arthur also joined the group to sit around the fire, you looked up to see him sat opposite you. You caught his eyes on you and you shared a shy smile before turning your attention to the convocations you were in. Although you knew why it wasn't the best idea to have your feelings for each other public knowledge, you hated the idea of not being able to hold him or kiss him whilst you were in camp. You longed for his attention and seeing him sat across from you only made you crave him more. 

''How are things with you and Arthur?'' Sadie nudged you with her elbow, keeping her voice hushed. Panicked at the mention of your relationship, you looked round to see that Tilly had now turned her attention to Sean and Lenny. Once you realised It was only you and Sadie talking, you couldn't help the blushed smile that crossed your face.

''Things are good'' you whispered back glancing over at Arthur. He was talking with John and Bill as he smoked on a cigarette. The light from the cigarette end would illuminate his eyes, from the shadow cast by the bim of his hat, every time he took a drag.

''He keeps looking over at you'' Sadie teased and you turned your attention back to her. ''You're both gonna get found out you know. It's so damn obvious'' she glanced between you and Arthur.

''I don't think everyone is as observant as you Sadie'' you giggled glancing round the rest of camp. ''I'm pretty sure if anyone thought anything, either Karen or Mary-Beth would have asked by now. They have only just stopped asking me if I'm sweet on anyone'' you both giggled and you heard your stomach growl. You were still hungry even after a bowl of stew and you remembered having a tin of biscuits in your saddle bag. As your stomach started to growl louder you decided the pack of biscuits were too tempting not to have so you excused yourself to go and get them. You walked over to the horses and grabbed the tin from your saddle bag, checking on Dallas as you passed him. On your way back to the fire you were met by Micah. His blonde hair was covered by the white hat he wore and his beady eyes were looking straight at you. He had clearly had a bit too much to drink as he was stumbling around as he walked in your direction. ''Micah'' you greeted him as you walked by. Your intentions were to walk straight by him and ignore any comments he made but his hand was quick to grab your arm and pull you back in front of him.

''That's no way to greet me girl'' he growled at you. The smell of liquor on his breath was overwhelming and his grip on your arm tightened. ''You're a pretty one ain't ya. Better than when you were tied to that wagon....Although I must admit you looked just as nice tied up'' he snickered as he looked at you up and down with hunger in his eyes. You pulled your arm from his grasp forcefully and he almost lost his balance.

''Go to hell Micah'' you spat back at him. A cruel grin appeard his face as you spoke to him. It was as though he liked it when people dispised him. He regained his balance and blocked your way back to camp by towering over you.

''I like a girl with a bit of fire'' he smirked and grabbed your throat, holding it tightly. ''I'll show you how you treat a real man'' he whispered in your ear. His breath ran cold down your neck and your body tensed. You used all the force you could muster to slap him across the face but he intercepted your arm before you could make an impact. His laugh was taunting you which only made you more angry, your knee came up to hit him in his stomach and he released his grip on you as he grasped his belly. ''Bitch, ain't you'' his amusement faded which was replaced by pure anger and you were the one in the firing line. You reached for your pistol to defend yourself but you had taken your gun belt off as you ate, leaving it by the fire. As you looked up from your empty hip, Micah had reached for his knife and was already holding it at your throat. He leant into you and took a deep breath in, taking in your smell before smiling devilishly at you. "Ain't so tough without a gun, are ya?". Your heart was racing as you had nothing to defend yourself with. The metal of his knife blade against your neck was cold and sent a shiver down your spine.

"Just you wait" you taunted him as you felt the hilt of your own knife in your back pocket. You were about to pull it on him when the distinct crack of a pistol being cocked came from behind Micah. 

''Get your goddamn hands off her Micah'' Arthur growled. He was standing with the barrel of his pistol aimed at Micah's head. The sound of his angered voice bellowed through camp, and conversation were suddenly silenced. All the camp's attention had turned to the three of you and Micah remained unmoved.

''Come on Cowpoke, I'm just havin' a bit of fun here'' Micah kept the knife on your throat but his attention was on Arthur.

''Fun's over'' Arthur moved in closer with a darkness in his eyes as he looked at Micah. His gun was now placed against Micah's temple and his finger ready at the trigger. You glanced between the two men as Micah weighed up his options. He turned back to you before removing his knife from your neck and putting it back in his belt. Arthur then lowered his gun and placed it into the halter at his hip. John, Dutch and Sadie had made their way over, after hearing the commotion in case they had to intervene. You took a deep breath in releasing your grip on the hilt of your knife as Micah stepped away from you. He sighed loudly before laughing at Arthur.

''If I didn't know you any better I would have said you cared for this girl, Mr Morgan. You're going soft'' his voice was slurred. Micah stumbled on his way to square up to Arthur. He stood directly in front of him and you watched as Arthur towered above him. 

''I should 'av left you in jail to hang'' Arthur spat back. His brow was furrowed and his jaw was clenched. Micah cocked his eyebrow with a smile on his face.

''So what's she like in bed?'' Micah ignored his comment, he knew he was getting under Arthur's skin and he was enjoying the attention. Arthur's fists clenched shut. You glanced at John to try and stop this madness but he looked between you and Arthur, open mouthed, at what Micah was suggesting. You were about to grab Arthur yourself and walk away, Micah was not worth the time and you had enough of his torments. ''Send her to my tent when you're done, she looks like a wild one'' Micah sniggered. That was all it took to break Arthur's temper. His face turned red and is fist came up and hit Micah in the jaw as hard as he could. Micah fell to the floor with a thud. Dutch and John were quick to grab Arthur's arms and hold him back before he did any further damage.

"Touch her again and I'll give you more then a broken nose" Arthur threatened as he was getting pulled away by John and Dutch. The rest of camp were staring at the scene playing out in front of them. You stood there frozen, unaware of what to do. The damage had already been done. Although you know you shouldn't have, you felt a deep satisfaction watching Micah being knocked onto his arse.

''That is enough'' Dutch shouted as he pulled Arthur away from Micah. ''Micah, go get cleaned up. Arthur, go calm down'' he gestured to the both of them. Micah's nose was running with blood from the impact. He fumbled to his feet and walked straight back into camp to clean up while Arthur marched into the woods away from everyone. You were left standing with Dutch, John and Sadie watching as the two men strode away. ''(Y/N), you alright?'' Dutch asked you as he placed a hand on your shoulder. You nodded in response, still trying to process what had just happened. "Good, I'm going to go have a chat with Micah" Dutch informed you as he followed the beaten man back into camp.

''What the hell was that about?'' John asked. He glanced at you catching your eye before he averted his gaze to the floor. There was a concerned expression on his face but for some reason he wouldn't look at you.

''Micah grabbed me and Arthur stood in to defend me'' you huffed rubbing your throat where the knife had been sitting.

"What was Micah getting at then? Because Arthur was gettin' pretty wound up" John questioned his voice loud and irritated as he regained his breath from trying to restrain Arthur. Your breath got hitched in your mouth as you panick. The palm of your hands become sweaty and you didn't know how to answer. You had no intention of telling the gang any time soon about your relationship with Arthur.

''I should go check on him'' you looked in the direction Arthur had stormed off ignoring John's question.

"Sure you are alright?" Sadie asked as she saw the panick in your face.

"Yeah, I'm fine" you nodded before you turned away to follow after Arthur. You followed the fresh tracks in the ground until you found Arthur sitting under a tree with his back leant up against it. His head was hanging low with his hat covering his eyes.

''Thank you'' you spoke softly as you approached him. He lifted his head up to look at you. ''I always knew he was a piece of shit but I didn't know quite how true that was'' you tried to lighten the mood. Arthur's hands were still in fists but he couldn't help the small smile on his face when he saw you.

''Yeah, that's one way of putting it'' he growled. ''You alright?'' he stood up and glanced at your neck making sure Micah hadn't left a mark on you.

''I'm fine'' you smiled as you wrapped your arms around Arthur's waist and buried your head into his chest. He pulled you in closer to him and placed a kiss on the top of your head. You took a deep breath allowing yourself to relax in his arms.

''I should av' killed the bastard'' he mumbled. ''If he ever touches you again then I will'' he tightened his grip on you.

''That's if I don't do it first'' you giggled as you pulled away and grabbed his hand to see the bruises that were already forming on his knuckles. "You shouldn't have punched him" you grazed the bruise with your fingertips before looking up into Arthur's eyes.

"He deserved it" he defended himself. "He's lucky that's all he got" his brow furrowed. You smiled shyly at him knowing he was only this angry because he cared for you. Having someone help to defend you was still something you were going to have to get used to but you were greatful for him. It made you feel safer, knowing that you had Arthur watching out for you. The temper he has that you used to be weary of you knew would never be directed at you but only used to defend you. You stayed with him in the woods for a while until he was fully calmed down. You both sat under a tree whilst he told you about his day with Lenny at a place called Shady Bell and then how he and Micah robbed a bank coach which the O'Driscolls ended up turning up to as well. ''Sounds more interesting then my day'' you smiled up at him. ''I went to find Dallas with John'' you chuckled.

''Sorry I couldn't help ya" he scratched the back of his neck. "Least you had John to help you find him'' Arthur's voice was relaxed now as you sat close to one another.

"You help me plenty enough. Plus John isn't bad company. I just feel sorry for you havin' to spend time with Micah" you teased him. Arthur smirked at you before gently moving a strand of hair away from your face, caressing your cheek before leaning down and kissing you softly. He then rested his forehead on yours. ''You are so beautiful'' he whispered softly. Your chest filled with a warm sensation and your heart stopped beating for a split second. Everything you felt towards Arthur seemed to double in intensity everyday, heat ran to your cheeks as you looked at him. His deep blue eyes captivated you in a trance that you never wanted to leave. He smiled sweetly before looking at the ground. ''We better go back before someone comes to check on us'' he mumbled, looking slightly upset at the prospect of going back into camp. You both stood up and shared one last kiss before making your way back into camp.

''I think I'm going to go get some rest'' you turned to Arthur. You saw the majority of the gang we're still gathered around the fire and you didn't want to face them just yet. The late nights were also catching up to you as you could feel your eyelids getting heavier.

''Alright, I'll see you in the mornin'.'' Arthur smiled. You didn't want him to leave you, you wanted him to come in and spend the night with you again and you could see in his eyes he wanted that too. It felt like a large lump had formed in your throat, you swallowed hard. Arthur hesitated before tipping his hat to you with a nervous smile. ''G'night (Y/N)'' he turned and walked towards his own cot, leaving a sense of loneliness lingering around you. You walked into your tent and got changed into your nightwear before laying on your cot and covering yourself with the blanket. The events of the night played through your head. The way Micah grabbed you and spoke about you to Arthur in front of the others. Arthur's reaction was bound to make people ask questions and you weren't ready for that. The thought of tomorrow made you feel uneasy, everyone pestering you about your relationship with Arthur, but at least you were on a job with John. He was your closest friend in camp and he always made you feel comfortable so you hoped he wouldn't question you again. Being away from camp should take your mind of things. You felt your eyes get heavy as you drifted off into a deep sleep.

--

Chapter 12

@nena-ma