#as you can see i love it when they all sit near campfire

[ryavkin]

Chapter 3: Clemens Point

[obsessedwhyyes]

The Learned Observer

Fic Request: Voyeurism

Summary: On a sleepless night, Gale notices the distinct sound of hushed voices outside his tent. It couldn't be you and Astarion… could it? When he decides to take a peek - to satisfy his scholarly curiosity, of course - he gets more than he bargained for.

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 2623 Pairing: Astarion x Fem!Reader, implied Astarion x Gale x Fem!Reader Content: Gale's POV (first person), voyeurism, dry humping, handjob, public sex, male masturbation, a little bit of jealousy.

A/N: Gale, in my humble opinion, would not use the word, “cock.” I cannot express how hard it was to not use the word, "cock" in a smut fic. I frigging love that word. Anyways, writing entirely in Gale’s voice was honestly the most fun mini challenge I’ve set myself so far, and I would gladly do first person BG3 companion POVs again. Thank you, dear anon, for the request!

Another sleepless night.

The orb pulses beneath my skin, each throb a reminder of my predicament.

I implore my mind to wander to the events of our journey, to the challenges that lie ahead, in pursuit of a worthwhile distraction. But the orb’s hunger grows stronger, like a raging maelstrom, each tribute to its insistent pull a mere ripple against the tide of its endless consumption. Perhaps I should consult the others about–

… Voices drift from outside my tent before I can finish my thoughts. Curious.

Hushed laughter and whispered words. Astarion's distinctive timbre and… you.

The sound is soft, subtle - a quiet exchange. Yet, here I am, catching fragments of something private, something perhaps not intended for outside ears.

I shift, the faintest spark of curiosity pulling me from my solitude. It's innocent, surely - a late-night conversation, perhaps a shared joke. And yet, as the moments pass, I can't ignore the intimacy in your laughter, the way Astarion's voice drops to that silken murmur he reserves for his attempts at enticement.

Just a glance, I tell myself. Merely to understand what could be so amusing at this hour.

Slowly, carefully, I draw back a sliver of canvas, just enough to peek through.

My breath catches as my eyes adjust to the firelight outside. There, on the other side of the campfire, resting against a fallen log, you sit beside him, close - very close - your faces inches apart.

Your legs are entwined, and there’s an intensity in the way you look at each other. I’m taken aback by the hunger in the kiss that follows - one neither timid nor restrained. Your hands begin to explore each other with what I can only call fervour - the kind of urgency I hadn't known either of you possessed, let alone with each other. 

The way you move together speaks of raw desire rather than tender affection - this is clearly a new physical relationship.

When did this start? How did I miss the signs? Though perhaps I was too caught up in my own concerns to notice the lingering glances, the way you always seemed to find reasons to be near each other…

I tell myself it’s simple curiosity that keeps me here, observing. A certain academic interest, if you will. After all, Astarion has always been something of a hedonist - a man who indulges in his desires with a recklessness I sometimes envy, though rarely approve. But to see him like this - in action, as it were - offers a unique perspective on his character.

You murmur something I cannot make out, a teasing lilt in your voice, and Astarion laughs in that rakish, honeyed tone of his, as though thrilled to have you so wholly entranced. His hands grip your waist, and with a practised grace, he pulls you into his lap, the hem of your skirt spilling around you both. As his hands settle on your hips, you grind against what I can only assume to be a prominent hardness in his trousers, judging by the satisfied smirk on his face. 

You seem eager, pliant under his touch, responding in ways I confess I hadn’t thought you capable of - no, not like this. Not with him.

My heart hammers in my chest, a tension spreading through me that’s… increasingly difficult to ignore. And yet, I remind myself, this is mere observation, nothing more. A clinical exercise in understanding the intricacies of interpersonal attractions between a vampire and a mortal; the undercurrent of danger that befalls such an arrangement.

He holds you with a blend of confidence and entitlement that borders on decadent, his mouth at your neck, lips brushing against your skin with a maddening leisure that’s somehow indulgent and teasing all at once. His fangs linger there and, for a moment, my heart stops - surely he wouldn’t… Ah, no. No, he’s not feeding. He merely kisses your neck, fangs scraping lightly against your throat - close enough to tempt and tantalise. I see the goosebumps flare on your skin.

He whispers something low and unintelligible, and you let out a soft giggle, yielding in a way that speaks of trust - trust that’s he’s earned, somehow, despite his nature.

And then your hand drifts between you both, touching him through his trousers.

Gosh. I hadn’t thought you so bold.

Astarion’s body arches into your touch, his gaze darkening as he watches you with a hunger that’s both terrifying and… strangely beautiful. I find myself entranced, my breath shallow as I observe the way your fingers trace over him, the way he leans into you. The noise he makes when your fingers flex, squeezing him gently over the fabric… Gracious. 

There’s a strange, reluctant curiosity building within me. I should look away. I should grant you both the privacy you likely assume you have. And yet, my gaze remains fixed, drawn to the details of your encounter: the way his hands tighten on your waist, the way your breaths synchronise, the way he murmurs softly into your ear…

I am aware - painfully so - of the ache low in my body that has built with each passing moment, each glance, each touch. I am no stranger to restraint - I have spent years tempering my desires, sacrificing comforts in the pursuit of knowledge, of power. Yet, here, now, I feel that restraint begin to falter; to dissolve like ink in water, dispersing until it is all but unrecognisable. It has been so long, after all. So, so long.

When your hands move to the waistband of his trousers, my breath catches. Gods above, surely you won't, not out in the open... but yes. Yes, it seems you will.

When you pull him free, well - I’ve always wondered about vampire physiology, purely academically, of course. But the sight of him prompts rather less scholarly thoughts. He’s impressively endowed - perhaps it is wishful thinking to believe that this is but another gift of his condition. It’s fascinating how vampiric transformation affects every part of the body - he’s almost luminescent in the firelight, every inch of him perfect and unmarred. I notice the veins that trace along his length, faintly visible beneath his skin. He is, even now, a study in confidence, exuding a subtle power that one can only achieve when utterly comfortable in one’s own skin.

Your hand wraps around him, sliding up and down his length at a teasing pace, drawing forth a sound I have never heard our pale companion make - a soft, broken gasp, caught somewhere between a moan and a sigh. It sounds almost reluctant, as though he hadn’t meant for such a sound to slip past his lips. He twitches under your ministrations, and his grip on your hips tightens enough that there will surely be bruises tomorrow.

My fingers rest at my thigh, trembling ever so slightly. A small part of me - a remnant of reason, perhaps - tells me to pull back, to look away, to let this moment pass without surrendering to the need that has taken root within me. But my body, the traitorous thing it is, does not heed such commands. Instead, I find my hand drifting lower.

My fingers trace over the fabric of my trousers, over the aching hardness beneath. A gentle palming, barely enough to ease the tension that coils tighter with each passing moment as I watch the scene unfold.

Your hands elicit quiet murmurs from Astarion that grow deeper and more insistent with each passing moment. For a moment, the two of you share a look - one of conspiratorial mischief, perhaps - and then a soft, shared giggle, the sound mingling with the crackling of the fire. 

You're so utterly engrossed in him; so utterly unselfconscious.

You shift, a question in your eyes, and as he nods, giving his assent, you rise just enough to shift, positioning yourself over him. Your skirts drape around you both, providing a veneer of modesty, though there's no mistaking what follows when you sink yourself down on to him. The way your lips part in a gasp as he enters you, the way his head falls back with a victorious grin - it makes the tightness, the great ache between my legs, almost unbearable.

I find my hand slipping beneath my waistband.

Just a little relief, I tell myself. Just enough to ease this maddening tension.

There is a certain poetry to it, I suppose - this surrender to the pleasures of the flesh. I allow myself to imagine, as my hand finds the throbbing heat of my arousal, what it might feel to be in your place, to have someone look at me with that same confidence, to experience touch imbued with the certainty of one who knows precisely how to elicit pleasure - a knowledge gleaned from centuries, no doubt, of indulgence and conquest.

It’s enough to leave me aching for more than mere observation.

The fervour with which you move against him… it’s hypnotic, each roll of your hips drawing forth increasingly wanton sounds from you both. Astarion's carefully crafted demeanour gives way to something more roguish, a playful daring that glints in his eyes as you rise and fall and rise and fall on his length.

I find my hand instinctively matching your rhythm, every shift and motion, as though I, too, am bound to the undulating tempo that you and Astarion have created.

Gods… what must it be like to be him? To have someone so openly, eagerly drawn to you, meeting every touch with matching fervour? To hold someone close and feel their raw desire, the thrill of each laugh, each gasp, offered without hesitation? I wonder what it must be like to inspire such a response, to be desired so freely, without need for pretence or restraint?

With Mystra, I was ever the pursuer, striving tirelessly to earn even the barest hint of her approval, each moment together feeling like an examination I desperately hoped to pass. But Astarion… well. He needn't chase or convince. Despite his vampiric nature - or perhaps, in part, because of it - he is simply desired, freely given all that I once had to beg for. The inequity of it all would be rather poetic, if it weren't so personally vexing.

“A-ah!”

Your gasp cuts through my ruminations, pulling me back into the scene.

Astarion’s hand has slipped between you, guiding you to that final crescendo with a practised touch. The sight of it is utterly spellbinding: his fingers moving with a precision that speaks to centuries of experience, knowing just where to press, where to linger. The control he exercises over you is enviable, each movement of his hand coaxing you closer to that peak, his attention wholly focused on your reaction, even as your hips rock back and forth on his length with an increasingly frantic, unrestrained urgency.

The way your eyes roll back... Gosh.

The expression on your face, one of pure, unfiltered abandon, is a sight to behold.

Your body trembles as you reach your peak, and a sound - a cry, too loud in the stillness of the night - escapes your lips. Astarion’s palm clamps over your mouth, a futile attempt to muffle you in the throes of your climax. Though he hushes you, his expression suggests that he is not in the least bit concerned. In fact, he seems rather pleased - more than pleased, really. 

There’s a thrill in such a public display for him too, no doubt.

I swallow, the sound almost too loud, my heart pounding against my ribs as though it seeks to betray me. Astarion's head tilts slightly, his gaze flickering to the shadows, and for one heart-stopping moment, I think he has sensed me, that his attention has shifted from you to this invisible interloper, the scholar caught red-handed in his quiet act of voyeurism.

Could he... sense me here, lingering on the fringe of his private moment? Could he smell the stir of my own arousal, feel the faint tremor of my breath as I fight for composure? For several heartbeats, my hand freezes. I dare not even breathe.

But then his attentions return to you, and I breathe a sigh of relief. 

He brings his hands to your hips, holding them firmly in place as he drives himself upwards into you, deeper, with mounting desperation. It seems he seeks to chase his own release, content with the pleasure he has wrought you.

You respond eagerly, pressing closer, your own sounds growing louder, heedless of who might hear, and I can see that thrill in his face - the satisfaction of knowing he’s eliciting every reaction from you, drawing out each gasp, each shudder.

My hand glides hastily across my arousal, my own breathing growing ragged as I watch his control begin to slip. Even from here, I can see the tension in his shoulders, the way his head tips back in pure abandon.

In the final throes, he presses himself against you, buried firmly to the hilt. It’s almost animalistic, all thoughts, all calculated movements, making way for one singular goal: to empty himself into you, filling you with all he has to offer with breaths rugged and low. All composure is stripped, replaced with instinct and pure need.

I find my own movements quickening to match his pace, as though some invisible thread binds us all to this moment. My hand tightens as I lose myself in the same tempo, every sound from you both spurring me closer. The sight of his final shudder, the look of utter satisfaction crossing his face as he reaches that height, is enough to tip me over the edge.

For a heartbeat, the night seems to hold us all in perfect suspension - your quiet gasps, his satisfied murmurs, my own silent echo of shared pleasure - all woven together in this clandestine tableau.

Only then, as the euphoria begins to fade, does a most uncomfortable awareness creep in.

Gods above, what have I... A scholar of worldly acclaim, reduced to voyeur, caught up in base desires like some common... No. Best not to dwell on such things. Though I suspect sleep will prove rather elusive tonight, haunted by questions of propriety and... other matters.

With a groan, I roll onto my back, the orb’s steady throb now a minor annoyance compared to the tangled thoughts that flood my mind. Perhaps I can chalk this entire… incident up to fatigue, a wandering mind, even a fevered dream. Yes, that must be it. The product of a restless night and, possibly, a touch of indigestion. After all, who could believe that I, Gale of Waterdeep, would be brought so low as to... well, that.

As morning light spills across camp, I attempt a façade of normalcy, willing my cheeks to cool and my mind to settle. Just as I convince myself the night’s events were nothing more than a peculiar dream, Astarion sidles up, his expression one of leisurely amusement.

"Restless night, Gale?” he murmurs, just loud enough for me to hear. His gaze is as sharp as his tone, a knowing glint in his eyes that makes my stomach twist in the most uncomfortable way. "I thought I heard a... stirring from your tent."

The corner of his mouth quirks up in that infuriatingly smug way of his, and I nearly choke on my response. 

He knew. 

Astarion knew. 

I force a cough, pretending to inspect the morning sky.

"A dream," I reply a bit too quickly. "Perhaps the cheese at dinner was... overly ripe."

But Astarion merely chuckles, a wicked sound, before strolling away with a satisfied air. And as I watch him saunter off, I’m left to question just how much of the night was a dream - and how much, mortifyingly, was very, very real.

Masterlist can be found here!

No Pressure Tags: @roguishcat @davenswitcher @silverfangmarks @sparrowbard @chonkercatto @stokzr @trafalgarussy @asterordinary

[milksnake-tea]

━━ star-shaped .

War was never pretty. Death comes for both enemy and ally, and even as a healer, you cannot save everyone. Wearied by the war that seems to drag on for years, with no victory in sight, you join Jiaoqiu at the campfire for a rare moment of peace.

jiaoqiu x gn!reader

contains: based on leaks abt jiaoqiu's character stories !! but honestly its kinda implied in the quest but idk. has death, war, depictions of injuries and diseases, things are rough, can be read as platonic or romantic !!

word count: 1.7k

a/n: i love this man and his potential because goddamn war stories??? in my hsr??? sign me UP. also this was inspired by The Things They Carried by Tim Burton that i was forced to read in highschool. i loved the soldier death scene in that book so YEAH

taglist: @sh0jun , @themoderatelyawesomeninja , @xphantasmagoriax , @rainswept , @lucensei , @akutasoda , @naraven @camellia-rabbit , @scribs-dibs , @apathicace

The man you killed had two eyes; one was closed, and the other a star-shaped hole.

You wake when the sky is still dark and the sun bathes the other side of the planet. Harsh winds beat unrelentlessly at the tent’s folds, and hail pelts at the sturdy fabric.

Some of your comrades, fellow healers, sleep soundly as they can on the battlefield, while others work tirelessly in the makeshift hospital next tent over, keeping an eye on injured and diseased soldiers’ conditions.

Fire crackles outside. The sound is sharp, yet barely audible over the snow storm.

With a sigh, you pull your sheets off of you and as quietly as possible, make your way outside the tent. You aren’t going to get much sleep anyway - you might as well do something useful.

The man you killed resurfaces in your mind. He had two eyes - one closed, the other a star-shaped hole.

You pull your fur-lined coat closer around you as you step out into the camp. Snow crunches under your boots and you have to hold your hood in place to shield yourself from the hail.

To say that this planet is freezing would be an understatement. Here, the cold chilled you from your bones to your skin, seeping into your veins and leaving icicles in its wake. Frostbite was an everyday occurrence here; you’ve had to amputate more toes and fingers than ever in your life.

A silhouette sits before the fire, their back turned to you. As you get closer, you make out tall, Foxian ears and the same winter coat you’re currently wearing.

“Jiao?” you wrinkle your nose as you near, suddenly slammed with the strong scent of chili. Your comrade acknowledges you with a brief flick of the ears, but nothing more.

You don’t blame him. This war has been a harsh one, with less soldiers returning to camp every time they’re sent out. Unknown territory and harsh weather conditions made the battles long and exhausting, and healers could only do so much.

Not to mention, time passed so quickly yet so slowly here. You don’t know how long it’s been since you’ve been stationed, but it feels like several lifetimes.

Everyone is tired. You can see it in the hollowed cheeks, the eyes that have grown numb to death, and the despondent numbness that has overtaken the camp. They no longer cared who won or who lost. All they wanted was to return home in one piece.

The man you killed had two eyes. One was closed, and the other was a star-shaped hole.

You sit down next to Jiaoqiu on the log. The Foxian makes no move to push you off, only shifting to the side to help make room for you. Hugging your knees to your chest, you stare blankly at the drifting embers that dance in the air.

Jiaoqiu absentmindedly stirs at his soup. It boils in a small pot just above the fire, the thin liquid a red so bright it’d be threatening… if you had the energy to be threatened.

“It’s late,” you say into the crisp silence. “You should get some sleep before the sun rises. You’ll need it for tomorrow.”

Even as the words leave your mouth, you know it’s pointless. In war, sleep is something you have to force your body into. You have to lie down in the tents, look up at the fabric sky and listen to the hustle and bustle outside as soldiers are carried in and out, and close your eyes to the screams as yet another frostbitten knight has their arm cut off. You have to put yourself first, even for that small second, and allow yourself rest while your comrades fight on the front lines.

Sleep is a luxury that no one can afford. It is an escape. It is shameful.

And from the looks of Jiaoqiu’s darkened eye bags and mindless stirring, it’s a sin he won’t be partaking in tonight.

And neither will you.

Your gaze falls to the small bag of spices lying next to Jiaoqiu on the long. You can see peppercorns, cloves, fennel, cinnamon, and… star anise.

You look away.

The man you killed had two eyes. One was closed.

“How are you faring?” Jiaoqiu finally speaks. He doesn’t look at you and keeps his eyes on the flame.

Another gust of wind runs through you.

“As well as anyone else is, I suppose.”

Jiaoqiu swirls the soup with one hand. A bubble bursts and sprays the snow in little sizzling red freckles.

“How about you?” you ask.

The snow has already covered the soup’s spill by the time Jiaoqiu replies.

“As well as one can be,” he mutters. His hands, gloved with thick leather, clench once before relaxing.

A hollow chuckle leaves you. You sigh, kicking your legs out onto the snow and leaning back on the log. You look to the sky, to the cryptically beautiful cosmos. Blues, purples, and reds merge together like watercolor clouds above you, and small, white stars bejewel them.

Stars… Your gaze becomes lidded.

The man you killed had two eyes. One was a star-shaped hole.

“Do you think that man had a family?”

If Jiaoqiu was surprised at all by your question, he didn’t show it.

“Does it matter?” He takes a small taste of his soup. Despite it practically glowing in red, he doesn’t seem satisfied. “He was the enemy, need I remind you.”

You close your eyes briefly. “But I’m a healer.”

“You are.” Jiaoqiu opens his pouch and dumps in the rest of his chili rations - what for, you don’t know nor do you care to know. “You are also a soldier of the Xianzhou Yaoqing military. War always ends up in casualties, you know this. So did the soldier.”

There’s a bitterness in his tone that makes you wonder if he was talking to himself as well as to you. Your eyes soften.

“You did what you could, Jiao,” you offer. You want to put your hand on his shoulder, but you aren’t sure if that is appropriate, given the circumstances. “What happens outside the camp is beyond our control.”

Jiaoqiu sighs. His hand tightens around the ladle.

“Then what’s the point?” he whispers. His brows furrow, and his eyes open - a gem of amber reflecting years worth of grief and hopelessness. “What purpose do I have as a healer if I cannot stop my patients from hurtling towards their deaths?”

He turns to you, searching your face for any sort of answer that could satisfy him, that could reassure him that there was meaning, there was a point, that all of those bandages and surgeries and amputations weren’t for naught.

But you cannot answer him, for it is a question that no healer knows the answer to.

“You gave them another chance at life,” you say softly, unconvincingly. “That’s all that matters.”

“Even if that life is destined to end regardless of what I do?”

Dead eyes meet dull ones.

“What happens outside the camp is beyond our control,” you repeat blankly.

The man you killed had two eyes.

Jiaoqiu searches your gaze once more, before ultimately giving up. The amber of his eyes close, and he returns to the cauldron.

In a feeble attempt to console him, you go against your earlier thoughts and rest a hand on his shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze. But with the roughness of your gloves and the cold limiting the dexterity of your hands, it isn’t much - but it’s enough.

Jiaoqiu glances at your hand, then back at the cauldron.

“Do you feel bad?”

You blink, a bit caught off guard by the question, but you settle down soon enough.

“No,” you say after a brief pause. “He would’ve killed us if I hadn’t killed him.”

You lean forward, resting your head in your palm as you watch the flames swallow up what little tinder the others managed to collect.

“I’m just glad to be alive.” You don’t sound like you believe it.

Jiaoqiu’s ear flicks. You hear him stand up and scoop some of the soup up into his ladle, and dash out his tongue to taste it. His tail swishes, and his eyes widen momentarily, amber flashing like lightning.

A smile, a weary, tired, but grateful smile, slips onto his lips.

He turns to you, vitality returned, even if it’s just for a moment.

“Try this,” he says, holding the ladle out towards you. 

You eye it warily. The liquid drips down the sides of the ladle and drops down onto the snow below, sizzling the second red touches white. You didn’t think it was possible for the soup to get even redder, but Jiaoqiu somehow did it.

“I won’t die if I eat it, right?” you try to joke. Jiaoqiu huffs, his breath steaming in the air.

“You doubt my cooking capabilities?”

You shake your head. “No, but whatever you have in there doesn’t exactly look… edible.”

And yet you’re already leaning forward to taste his concoction. Jiaoqiu carefully holds the ladle still as you take a sip.

Instantly your senses are flooded with pure, unyielding heat. Fire blazes on your tongue, searing your throat and bringing tears to your eyes. Your stomach burns, and for the first time since you’ve come to this planet, you stop shivering.

It’s painful.

It’s exhilarating.

“It’s delicious,” you praise despite the coughs that wreck your being. “Although… did you have to add so much chili?”

Jiaoqiu hums out a laugh. “But that’s what makes it special.”

You don’t bother denying it. Instead, you laugh alongside him, eyes crinkling with joy instead of pain after years of constant war.

You’ll have to return to the war eventually. The sun is already beginning to rise, and soon the soldiers will be awakened to go out into battle once more. You’ll have to take over for your comrades who had spent the night in the hospital.

But you don’t have to do it just yet.

For now, you just want to enjoy this moment, this second of normalcy and peace in the battlefield.

The man you killed had two eyes.

One was closed.

The other was a star-shaped hole.

reblogs w comments are appreciated !!

[moonstruckme]

I used to be a camp counselor and I just know James is the exact kind of guy the little kids would fight to sit next to at activities. And! He tells the most dramatic campfire stories

Hi! I realize this wasn't really a request but it gave me an idea, so thank you lovely!

camp counselor!James x fem!reader ♡ 751 words

“Then,” James says in a low, solemn voice, “Timmy heard the monster getting louder. Do you know what I do with my giant red mouth and my long purple fingers?” 

All around you, campers sit with bated breath. When the last counselor to go had told her story, they’d all been whispering to each other, giggling and messing around as they tend to do whenever anyone is speaking. Anyone except James, apparently. 

“Timmy ran to the only place left to hide.” He walks slowly around the logs you and the kids sit on as he talks, the orange glow of the fire casting his face in a merry hue despite his foreboding tone. You can tell he’s trying his best to play the part, and James isn’t the worst actor in the world, but anytime he looks at one of the kids’ faces the twitching of his lips betrays him. 

He crouches next to an apprehensive-looking girl and says to her, “He squeezed into the closet in the basement and made himself as small as he could. Just like that.” James pokes the girl’s curled up form teasingly, drawing a smile out of her. His lips twitch again. 

“For a minute,” he stands, beginning to circle again, “it was quiet. Then, Timmy heard the monster coming down the stairs.” James stomps his feet on the dirt, making dull thudding sounds that have you smiling and your camper next to you gripping your arm apprehensively. “The monster got closer and closer. Timmy was trapped.” 

James is nearly behind you, and the girl holding your arm whispers, “Does the monster live close to here?” 

“No, no.” You keep your voice low, bending your head towards hers with your most reassuring smile. “This monster’s all the way in Florida. Don’t worry.” 

“And when Timmy could hear the monster’s breath just outside the closet,” James goes on, though you’re not really paying attention, more focussed on comforting the poor girl beside you, “it asked again, Do you KNOW—” His voice rises to a shout, and big hands grab your waist, making you squeak loudly. James’ hold is the only thing that keeps you from flinching fully out of your seat, and you can hear him snickering quietly behind you as the kids erupt in laughter. 

“Do you know,” he tries again, amusement coating his tone, “what I do with my giant red mouth and my long purple fingers?” 

He lowers himself onto his haunches, speaking to the girl next to you. “And do you want to guess what Timmy said?” he asks her, both hands still on your waist. 

She shakes her head, giggling. 

“Well, he said no, obviously.” James grins as if this is a joke you’re all in on together. “How would he know? So the monster said, I’ll show you.” 

James gives your waist a teasing squeeze as he lets you go, but his face smooths into seriousness again, one hand coming slowly up to his mouth. The kids near you are craning their necks to see him. 

Lightning quick, James sticks a finger in front of his lips, flapping up and down as he blows out and makes a vibrating sound. 

The silence breaks as the kids either laugh or boo or a mix of both, one of James’ campers shouting, “That wasn’t even scary!” 

“It was too!” James feigns offense, setting a hand on your head and banding his forearm across your collar protectively. “Don’t say that, you’ll make y/n feel bad. Poor love,” he says sympathetically, resting his head on your shoulder, “she was really terrified.” 

“Did you pee yourself?” one of the campers near you asks. You turn to her, making a silly face. 

“I think maybe a little,” you whisper loudly, causing the kids to devolve into giggles again. 

“Oh, ew.” James makes a show of removing his hands from you and wiping them on the back of your shirt. The campers eat it up, your small clearing in the woods a cacophony of laughter and cricket sounds. You catch some of the other counselors rolling their eyes, some exchanging knowing smiles. 

“Well, I suppose that’s fair enough,” James goes on. “I nearly peed myself, too, when I thought you were going to fall off your log there.” He shoots you one of his winning smiles. “Good thing you had me to catch you, yeah?” 

You feel your face warm, and you’re grateful for the glow of the campfire as cover. “Mhm,” you say, “good thing.” 

[strawberryblue-blog]

Summer love —Pablo Gavi.

summary: Spending the summer with your friends had always been something you loved but this time something is different, especially with Pablo.

warnings: none. cute/fluff, soft, friends to lovers, lots of kisses.

words count: +2.4k

The starry summer night shone over your heads as your friends laughed at the small campfire they had made. It was the summer vacations and all your friends had decided to come to Pedri's house in the Canary Islands where the best summer nights were spent.

After several hours of drinking, chatting, bathing in the water and returning to the campfire, the night was finally coming to an end. Some were falling asleep on the sand while the others were fooling around about anything. It was already too late and you were starting to feel a little tired. You had spent most of the day out and about, in the sea, running around, drinking, playing stupid games, enjoying the night.

"I think it's time to go to sleep" you warned getting up from your place. The others looked at you confused.

"Boringgggg" Ferran complained mockingly and they laughed.

Some of them were drunk and would probably wake up here sleeping (or not sleeping at all). Normally when they came here the first few nights were spent awake enjoying their youth, doing everything but sitting still. It was like coming back to life after months in college or focused on football for them.

In response you stuck your tongue out in mockery as you laughed. Your eyes focused on your friends, trying to get their attention to see if they wanted to go back to the house.

Fermín and one of your friends were near the shore, making out for quite a while now. Ferran and Pedri were hugging like two drunks laughing with each other, Fer was still chatting with some of the girls. Pablo and Hector were also chatting with each other. While the younger ones Lamine, Nico and three of your friends, were running around the sand with the ball on their legs.

"I'll go rest, you guys can stay" you said laughing at their complaints.

"Do you want us to go with you?" one of them asked. You denied, you didn't have beds assigned yet but you didn't care who you got to sleep with since you guys always used to come here and sleep with anyone.

You wave to your friends while wiping your sandy butt, your gaze drifted to the guys and you got a weird smile from Pablo, he was the one you had the least relationship with of the group but you liked him, maybe because you had never had the chance to get to know each other enough. So you quickly smiled back at him before turning your back to walk away from them, the house is a bit far from the beach so you walk carefully so you don't hit anything.

A sigh leaves your mouth as you feel the summer breeze you love so much, finally with your head free and at ease. This place was perfect. You arrive at the house in a matter of minutes and go upstairs to the room where your things are, you need to take a quick shower before you go to bed. You are full of sand and a little wet from the last time you dove into the water.

When you finish showering, brushing your teeth and drying your hair a bit, you wrap yourself in the towel to go out and get dressed. As you leave the room, you jump a little in fright when you see a figure sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor as he plays with his feet.

Pablo.

His head comes up and he finally sees you coming out of the bathroom. You smile a little as you look into his eyes.

"Hi" he says barely.

"Hi you" you greet him with a smile.

Your wet feet walk carefully around the room dodging young man who follows you with his eyes. You hold the rolled up towel tightly to your chest, covering yourself and feeling embarrassed for being like this. You smile nervously as you take the clothes out of your suitcase, thinking you'll have to change in front of him or go back to the bathroom, it's a little awkward especially since Pablo keeps looking at you like nothing. You should have taken your clothes to the bathroom but you forgot, you weren't alone in the house to walk around like this but you thought you were alone here or that one of your friends would show up but not Gavi.

After an awkward silence you turn to him. You bite your lip as you feel his deep gaze on yours. He hasn't said anything yet but your cheeks start to heat up for some reason. Why? You've never felt self-conscious around him or any of the guys.

"I wanted to bring the boys but they are refusing to come back inside" he mumbles stretching his shoulders back.

You laugh at his words. Of course they are. They won't come until the sun hits them hard in the morning, if it were up to them they'd still be partying until New Year's Eve.

"It's the first night, they'll sleep after the fourth" you say laughing as you deny and Pablo laughs a little too.

Silence returns and your gazes are still glued together but you remember that you are still only wearing one garment (and not at all secure). You clear your throat and wrap your hand around your chest.

"Close your eyes" you ask him as you take the clothes in your hands.

He looks at you confused with his eyebrows raised.

"I have to change..." you stammer pointing subtly at yourself.

He doesn't seem to mind and goes back to roaming your body with a look that makes you shiver. He barely relaxes his lip and you hide a sigh when he finally nods indifferently. Hadn't he noticed that you were practically naked? The expression on his face made you doubt. He didn't care that you were like that, he came into your room, watched you for minutes and now didn't seem to care if you changed in front of him.

A tingle ran down your spine at the thought that you were closer than you had ever been. It was the third time you had come to this place, your friends were friends of Pablo's friends, you used to go out, have dinner, hang out, all together but you had never felt like this with him.

Gavi sighs bringing his hands to his eyes and covers them without complaining. When you make sure he's not watching, you take off your towel and run your underwear down your legs quickly. You grab the oversized shirt and quickly pull it on covering your body as you try to hide your discomfort and nervousness.

"Will you stay here?" you ask as you approach the chair and lay out the wet towel.

You clear your throat after noticing the question. How awkward. Fuck. It's like you're inviting him to stay. He lifts his shoulders.

"Can I stay here?" he says looking at you.

"Sure" you agree without any problem, finishing arranging the clothes on the bed and floor, trying to act normal.

You weren't embarrassed that he's staying but it was kind of weird. Normally you guys used to be friends as much as any of the other guys, though you had never gotten as close to Pablo as you did with Ferran, for example. Still, you didn't mind sleeping with him, or Ferran, Pedro or any of the guys or your own friends, it's not like it was a big deal, you were all trusting enough to sleep in the same bed and you were friends.

After watching you finish settling in, Pablo gets up from his spot. He takes off his shoes and his beach pants leaving him in his underwear and t-shirt. You don't look directly at him, but you can see his pale, beefy skin out of the corner of your eye, making you bristle. You bite your tongue and crawl into bed without saying anything, without even looking at him. You don't dare. Your belly flutters as you feel him open the sheets beside you and climb into bed with you.

"Are you... having a good time?" he questions after a while.

You know he's staring at the ceiling and so are you, they're far apart and still. You relax your dry lips as you feel a shiver run through you at the sound of his strong, honeyed voice.

"Yes, I love it here" you admit nostalgically. "Do you?" you also ask.

"Yeah, it's great" he sighs and you nod.

It's a little uncomfortable, you have to admit, but it doesn't feel bad either. You're curious to know why he wanted to come here... there are five other rooms and a super comfy couch. But you don't dare ask. The smile he gave you at the campfire comes back to your head and your cheeks catch fire. What's wrong with you? You look like you're suddenly fifteen again.

Again, there is an overwhelming silence. You can only hear their quiet breaths in unison. Pablo sighs deeply and you bite your lip staring at the white ceiling as if it were a work of art. Why are you so weird? You think to yourself as you turn your body around with your back to him so you can get more comfortable. Your body relaxes as the sheets embrace you and you gasp with pleasure as you feel the softness in your limbs, today had been a long day and you were looking forward to going back to bed to rest. You feel how the softness of the mattress helps your senses to relax little by little and you try to fall asleep.

A movement makes you shiver as Gavi's body rolls between you and settles behind you. His leg brushes against yours and you swallow nervously. One of his hands grabs you around the waist and pulls you close to him, your back is pressed against his chest and you gasp as you feel his warmth invade you. However, you say nothing. You don't refuse. You don't run. You don't move.

Your eyes slowly open again and his hands embrace your body, his legs touch yours and you caress him a little. It's a pretty comfortable position, you have to admit. His body hugs you from behind, his hands wrap around you and for some reason... it feels good. Too good.

It may sound cliché and even ridiculous but it's the first time someone hugs you like this. So delicate, so warm, so different.

Your heart starts to race when you feel on your back how his heart beats fast, maybe because of his daring to hug you or maybe because he's nervous. You don't know but what you do know is that you are. Your palms sweat and your pulse races, as if you're having a mini seizure.

His face sinks into the hollow of your hair and neck and you hear him sigh. Your hand moves and stays on top of his, enveloping it. Shit.

You are paralyzed. You just grabbed his hand. Like an idiot. Why did you do that? What will he think now? He'll think you're an idiot. You just held his hand like it was... romantic.

You quickly let go and bite your lips nervously. But your heart stops when Gavi takes your hand again and puts it under his, wrapping it around him, like you did before. Only this time it's him who takes it.

Fuck.

It's fucking romantic. And you don't even have feelings for him, do you? You fight your thoughts when you think of all the times you felt shy under his gaze. For all the times you found him looking at you while you danced, sang, or played at the campfire. For all the times you felt weird around him because for some reason, Pablo made you feel different from everyone else.

Did you like him? Sure, Gavi was good looking. Everyone would like someone like him. But you liked him differently. Like he was the only guy you wanted to get his attention. Like he was the only guy you wanted to be noticed, looked at, touched.

You gasped. You really liked him. But you could only confirm it now when his body was behind yours and his hands were touching you. Damn it.

«You liked him and you liked him a lot»

You know he's awake, you can hear him sighing behind you. You bite your lip when unconsciously your body slowly turns towards him. Gavi seemed to be waiting for him, because he himself helps you turn around with his hands on your waist.

When your eyes meet his, the world stops. The little light from the window enters and focuses directly into his eyes, illuminating his glow in them. You feel your belly contract and you want to kiss him. You want to touch him. You want to have it. Pablo watches you delicately, his fingers squeezing your back, as if encouraging you to come closer and you do.

One of your hands cup his face and you bring your lips to him, slowly and softly. When they touch, your belly roars. You don't even move, you just want to feel what they taste like. They are wet and taste sweet, warm and soft. A few seconds pass and his hands on your back, pulling you to him to kiss you. Strong and passionate. Needing your lips, as you need his lips to reciprocate.

Your hands encircle his neck and you pull him close to you, feeling his hard chest muscles on your chest. You kiss fiercely but deep and delicate. His skin feels warm from underneath yours and you gasp as his tongue enters your mouth. It's the best kiss you've ever had. Damn. You don't even take time to breathe properly when they part in a matter of milliseconds you take his lips again.

Desperate as if it were a drug. Kissing him hard and sure. Your stomach is a dance of butterflies, your body trembles and you're dying to feel it. No one had ever kissed you like this, no one had ever made you feel like this. What had changed now? Clearly it wasn't just the fact that Pablo liked you. There was something else. Something deeper in you that you still couldn't figure out.

His hands lift you up and help you sit on top of him, while they continue kissing. It's not sexual at all. It's just different. That's not to say you don't want to touch him in that sense, of course you do. But for now it's enough for you to kiss him. His lips are addictive, tentative, warm. You want him to kiss you until you're breathless. You want his arms to hold you. Hold you.

When your lungs beg for air, you part and your foreheads are pressed together as you sigh for air. His eyes fall into yours and he smiles as he licks his lips savoring the taste of you still on them. You gasp desperate for air. His hands taste from your thighs to your back and he caresses you while yours are on the sides of his neck.

"You are" he kisses your lips. "Fucking" he kisses you again. "Gorgeous" he kisses you again with each word.

A shy smile seems on your lips and you kiss him soft and wet again. You are lost in his mouth, in his gaze and in his caresses. You can't tear yourself away from him. It's as if you've been waiting for this your whole life but never dared.

Is that why you wanted to come back to this place after the last time? Because like no one else you had hoped to return to the Canary Islands to see your friends. Although you weren't sure if you wanted to see your friends... or you wanted to see Pablo.

"You made my life fucking hard, nena" he mutters in agitation. "I wanted to kiss you since two summers ago, since I saw you at the airport, while you were dancing at the bonfire, while you were laughing with your friends, at every moment" he confesses and your heart squeezes.

"Why didn't you?" you question in his eyes.

"Because I didn't know if you felt the same" he says and your breath catches.

You also didn't know if he felt the same and for that reason you never approached him that way. Although you weren't that aware of your deep feelings for Gavi either. At least until tonight.

"Then do it now" your hands go around his face.

"Oh yes. You'll get tired of me, nena" he laughs nuzzling his nose against yours.

"I don't think so, Gavi" you say laughing before crashing your lips against hers again.

[cc-cobalt-1043]

Comforting words can go a long way (A sonic 3 oneshot):

It was late now at the Wachowski campsite, Tom, Maddie, Sonic and Knuckles had drifted off to sleep hours ago but despite his best efforts Tails couldn't sleep.

He could only think of one thing...Stone.

Tails couldn't think of why, but despite being Robotnik's lackey Tails had never thought of him as a particularly bad person, not only had he seemed genuinely horrified when he heard about Gerald Robotnik's plans for Earth, but the man had tried to shield him when Shadow attacked them...that had to count for something right.

After tossing and turning for a good while now and still unable to sleep he got up with a irritated huff and grabbed his backpack walking out the tent.

Sitting down near the now dead campfire he pulled out his Miles electric and tapped away at it.

After several minutes of tapping away he located Stone.

The man was located at Kings Cross Station in London, however according to the schedules no trains were departing for several hours and apparently Stone's signal had been stationary for a few hours now.

Deciding he needed to do something, anything to help the grieving man Tails pulled out a ring he'd been keeping for emergencies he threw it and stepped through.

London:

Stone was sitting on a bench at Kings Cross, the station was deathly silent, the usual trains weren't running at this time, Stone noticed several parked in the platforms but they weren't the reason for him being there.

He was looking up at the stars as well as the now damaged moon, he couldn't get his thought of the doctor.

People only saw them as two madmen but to him Ivo Robotnik was a friend...yes a very very flawed friend, but one nonetheless, the two having met back when Stone was in the military, the two having formed something of a partnerships, neither he nor Ivo had been able to figure out what they were and now they clearly never would.

"Erm, excuse me." A tiny voice said.

Taken by surprise Stone looked and saw the young Fox, Tails or something looking at him with a pair of bright cyan eyes.

Stone blinked not sure if he was hallucinating but after a moment he realised he mustn't be as the fox kit was still here.

"Not to be rude, but how did you get in here?" Stone asked.

"I used a ring, how did you get here?" Tails asked blinking innocently at him.

"That's for me to know and you to find out." Stone said simply.

He looked at Tails who simply stared at him.

"So what are you doing here...Tails was it?" Stone asked.

Tails nodded.

"Technically it's Miles, but you can call me Tails." Tails told him.

Stone nodded.

"So Tails, what brings you to merry old London?" Stone asked.

"I wanted to see you, make sure you were ok." Tails said.

"Oh I'm just fine, all lollipops and rainbows." Stone said bitterly.

"I may be a kid but I can recognise sarcasm you know." Tails said crossing his arms and looking at him with a pout that even Stone thought looked adorable on the kits face.

"Alright fine I'll level with you kid, I've just lost the man I loved over some stupid thing I barely know the details of, he was the first person who actually treated me with some level of respect after I withdrew from Afghanistan and yeah you know what, maybe he was kinda crazy, and maybe he was a bit of a jerk at times but we had each other and that was enough, I loved him kid and now without I'm completely lost and confused, do you have any idea what that's like Tails." Stone snapped.

He looked at the fox seeing his tails had wilted and ears drooped back and he frowned.

"Sorry kid, I didn't mean to go all dark and gloomy on you." Stone said.

"Actually I kinda get it, when I was younger I was always picked on for my extra tail and my smarts, even my own parents had abandoned me by the time I was three." Tails said.

Stone grimaced. "Wow, that's horrible." He said.

"Well I've been staying with Sonic, Knuckles and my mom and dad for a while now they took me in and loved me regardless of my flaws, but if I lost then I guess I'd feel like you do right now, I know it's probably not what you want to hear right now, I just want you to know I understand." Tails are.

Stone looked at the kid in front of him, he would be lying if he said the kid's statement hadn't resonated with his own lonely childhood.

"Sorry, didn't mean to give you my life story." Tails apologised.

Stone shrugged.

"No Tails, that actually did help, guess we have more in common than we thought." Stone said.

"I guess." Tails said.

Just then the Fox let out a very wide yawn, it was then Stone noticed just how late it was, he looked at Tails who looked absolutely exhausted, if he was right about how young the kit was he should have been in bed and fast asleep hours ago.

"You have a way home right?" Stone asked.

Tails suddenly realised he hadnt grabbed a spare ring and face-palmed when he realised his error.

Stone let out an amused snort.

"I'll give you a ride home, want me to carry you?" He asked.

"Tha---s." Tails said, the rest being drowned out by another almighty yawn and he climbed onto the mans shoulders.

Stone simply snorted again and made his way out of the station and towards crab-bot as Ivo had dubbed it.

Thankfully the streets were quiet even by London's standards so thankfully they got very few looks.

Stone wasn't sure when but at some point the kit fell asleep on his shoulders.

The Fox's soft snores echoed in Stone's ears as he walked and not even he could hide his smile at the child's innocence, expecially when the world seemed so determined to snatch it from him.

They got to the crab-bot and Stone set the snoozing fox down in the co-pilot seat, the kid shuffling slightly in his sleep using one of his tails as an improvised pillow.

Stone smiled at the adorable sight before setting course for Green Hills.

By the time they got there it was early morning and when they got to the campsite the Wachowskis were staying at Stone could see the kit's family looking for him.

They certainly weren't expecting to see Stone appear with said Fox snuggled up in his arms.

"Relax, I'm just bringing him home." Stone said seeing the alert looks on Tom, Knuckles and Sonic's faces.

He handed Tails over to Maddie who took the sleeping fox with a much kinder look than the others were giving him.

Tails let out a tiny yawn and groggily opened his eyes looking at Maddie with a sleepy smile.

"Hi mama." He mumbled sleepily cuddling into her.

"Hi pumpkin." Maddie cooed before heading to the kids tent with the exhausted fox, the two talking in hushed whispers.

Stone turned around and was about to leave when he saw Sonic in front of him.

"What were you doing with Tails?" The blue hedgehog demanded.

"Nothing, he came to me, we had a chat and he couldn't get home so I gave him a lift." Stone said truthfully, well he was hardly lying was he.

Sonic gave him a look but seeing no trace of a lie nodded.

"Well, thanks for bringing him back...and look I'm sorry about Eggman, yeah I didn't particularly like him, but he did the right thing in the end, and despite our checkered past...I guess I can respect him for that." Sonic said.

Stone nodded.

"Thanks Sonic...you've got a good brother there, take care of him." Stone said.

Sonic nodded and with a brief smile Stone climbed into the crab-bot and departed the Wachowski campsite.

[percyluvr]

helloo, could i request a leo valdez x daughter of poseidon!reader headcanons? thanks 🦈

leo valdez x daughter of poseidon!reader summary: hcs for leo with a daughter of poseidon reader

when y'all first started dating, percy was a bit of a hater

y'know after the whole......... firing on the romans thing

but after a while it was fine

bc y'all r too damn cute

you sneak out of cabin 3 to go see leo a lot

and it's kinda annoying to percy sometimes

cuz you're nowhere near as sneaky as you think you are

but he likes it bc then he can have annabeth over

so it's kinda a win win

but anyways!

you guys sneak out to go sit near the lake

and just cuddle and talk

sometimes y'all fall asleep

and wake up to water splashing your face (it's percy)

other times you sleep in cabin 9

but percy knows either way

he always finds y'all LMFAO

he's so annoying to y'all

but it's all in good fun

bc you and leo prank him back

y'all have like a youtube prank war going on LMAOO

ANYWAYS enough abt percy trynna annoy y'all

leo is such a sweetie

he's always making you things

especially little ocean themed charms for your bracelets

you make him matching bracelets. out of the charms he makes.

UGH my mind

anywho

you sit in cabin 9 watching him make shit

and he gets a lil nervous with you watching him so intensely

sometimes he messes up what he's making because ur so distracting

and he just tries to play it off like he meant to do that

it haunts him at night LMFAOO

anyways

you made him a flame-resistant bracelet bc u know how he was always worried about burning your bracelets

and he actually cried

like he bursted out into tears and gave u the tightest hug ever

he might've cracked one of your ribs

shhh don't tell anyone..

he LOVES when you take him underwater

y'all just be chillin down there from time to time

until percy starts lurking down there too...

percy is a menace to y'all frl

during meals, y'all always sit at the same table

consequences be damned

everyone at camp is SO sick of y'all

pda central i swear

this man COULD NOT get his hands off of you to save his life LMFAO

always cuddling at campfires

late night swims n shiiiii

if ur ever cold

yk he's got u bbygirl

hes like a damn heater

but like

he cant turn it off

so ur like dying of a heat stroke when yall cuddle during the summer

he feels bad

but he loves being close to u

he's always thinking ab how lucky he is to have u

and how he doesnt deserve u

and u know that he thinks that

so ur always reassuring him that hes good enough and u will always love him

hes pretty insecure but he tries to play it off as no big deal

but ur always there for him

and thats something he loves ab u

y'all just get each other on a different levellll

poseidon lowk LOVES him

#prouddad vibes

and hephaestus loves u too

yall lowk got ur dads to be besties

thats how powerful yall r together

y'all are always tg

like 24/7

yall schedule to be in charge of the same activities so you dont have to be away from each other

how yall dont get sick of each other is BEYOND ME

ig thats just how it be when ur in love!

[sivyera]

cinnamon girl

frozen 2 elsa x fem!northuldra!reader

༺☆༻

"We are called Northuldra, we're the people of the sun." You heard Yelena say as you watched your people welcome the Queen and princess of Arendelle with opened arms after they found out that their mother was on of us.

You watched the whole interaction from afar, you didn't want to participate. You were still suspicious of them, the fact that their mother was one of us didn't change the fact that people from Arendelle once attacked you.

You rolled your eyes on this whole situation and went back to your teepee without noticing that the Queen of Arendelle saw you.

It was already dark when you were sitting next to your campfire near your teepee in the village. You had your baby reindeer's head placed on your thighs while you were stroking it's head.

You heard the kids laughing with the snowman that arrived with them and you had to admit that he was kinda funny. As you were stroking your baby reindeers head you heard someone clear their throat. You looked up and saw the Queen of Arendelle herself.

"May I?" She asked politely and point at the space that was next to you as if she wanted to sit down next to you.

You slowly nod your head and she sat down. That caught the ears of your baby reindeer who stood up and started sniffing her hand. She offered you a warm smile but your face remain stoic.

"Do you need something?" You asked her calmly as you were stroking your baby reindeers fur. She raised her eyebrow and giggled awkwardly before speaking again.

"I noticed that you were far from others when we came, why is that?"

Now that was your turn to raise an eyebrow. You simply shrugged your shoulders and continued stroking you baby reindeer. "It's simple, I don't trust you." You answered calmly to her question without looking at her.

That caught her a little of guard, because she thought that the Northuldra people are in peace with her, clearly you weren't. It made her confused and once again her curiosity got the best of her.

"Why don't you trust me?" She asked curiously as she tilted her head a bit to one side. You looked up at her with raised eyebrow, was she serious? It was obvious why.

"Your people betrayed us, attacked us, that's why." You said in a harsh tone yet still you remained calm. Elsa took a deep breath, she could have known that you're gonna say that. She still didn't knew the whole true but she understood you.

"Look, I apologize for any mistakes that people of Arendelle ever did, but I don't know the whole truth yet, like why is this voice calling me." Elsa said in a calm voice and gave you once again a warm smile at the end. You looked into her eyes for any signs of a lie but there was none. She was genuine.

You felt a bit sorry for her, you could see that she was desperate to find the truth she needed or the voice that was calling her. You also felt bad that you were judging her before knowing this.

"A voice?" You asked. You were also hearing some voice or sound but you thought it was the forest speaking or the wing singing, so you wasn't paying much attention to it.

"Yes, a voice! It's like singing or calling me, I-I think I'm going crazy." She laughed. Elsa was a bit nervous about telling you about the voice, it may sound really crazy to someone and she didn't wanna be judged or mocked.

"That's strange." You said as you looked up at the night sky. Sometimes you could find the answer in the stars but know it was pure chaos.

Elsa nodded slowly and looked down at her hand that was buried in your baby reindeers fur. "You are a strong and a smart woman, I know you will figure it out." You said calmly as you return your eyes back on her.

Elsa was shocked. This, this was all she needed. Words of appreciation. She loves Anna and she appreciates her help but Elsa needed to figure it out herself, not with Anna behind her all the time, putting herself in danger.

She needed to know that she can do this. She needed some credit and you gave it to her, which warmed her heart. She couldn't help but smile at you with a small blush covering her cheeks.

"Thank you, I needed this." She answered with the same wide smile and blush on her cheeks.

You return the smile and nod your head. She actually wasn't that bad and you now really hoped that she will find out the truth she seeks.

It was getting darker by each minute so you decided to go back to your teepee. As you and her stood up from the ground you said goodbye and good night to each other.

Few minutes after she turned and started walking to her borrowed teepee, you stopped her by stepping in front of her. Before Elsa could ask what you needed you kissed her cheek. Then you smile, wished her good night one more time and went to your teepee.

Elsa froze at the place for few more seconds before her face became red as a tomato. Her fingers touched the place on her cheek where you kissed her as her smile got wider.

She promised herself that after she finds out the truth, she will come back to you and take you on a proper date.

[starless-nightz]

Hi idk if you do platonic headcanons but if yes could I request overprotective Artemis with an adopted daughter/figure reader? :)

Platonic! Overprotective! Artemis with adopted! daughter! reader

note -> Artemis is one of my favorite gods i love her so much <33

warnings -> none.

content includes -> fluff, overprotective! Artemis, teasing from the hunters.

Artemis found you, lost in the woods as a child, alone and afraid, yet with a fire in your eyes reminiscent of herself. She didn't mean to get attached, but you clung to her that night, and she just couldn't leave you behind.

Artemis is extremely overprotective. The moment you came into her life, she swore to herself that nothing bad would ever happen to you. She doesn’t let you more than a few feet away from her side and when the Hunters are travelling through hostile territory it's even worse. The few times she does let you go off and do some exploring a few of her Hunters are always in sight, watching over you.

When it comes to threats near you, Artemis shows no mercy. She has faced her fair share of monsters, but since you've been around, she's a little more ruthless than usual. If some poor creature looks too close in your direction, she will confront it. You have seen her ove her bow at the snapping of a twig too near for comfort.

She cannot show affection, but it will manifest in the little things. She will sit with you by the campfire at night, pointing out the constellations. She will hunt you a rabbit when you are down, cooking it personally because she knows that is how you like it best. And though she's not one for physical comfort, she'll drape her cloak over your shoulders when the nights grow cold, pretending it's just because you look "chilly."

As you grow older, you two fight more. The fights are not frequent, but they are intense. You are independent, and Artemis respects that, but she cannot help the strong urge to keep you safe. You fight when you want to do something dangerous—perhaps accompany the Hunters on some more dangerous quest—and her silver eyes flash, her voice assumes that adamant tone. "You don't understand, you're not like the rest of us." It's only later, when the fire's faded from her eyes, that she'll come and sit beside you, awkwardly trying to explain that she just doesn't want to lose you.

Artemis is terrible at apologies, but she makes up for it in her own way. After fights, you'll wake up to find some rare flower placed carefully beside your bedroll, or a gift of a small, silver charm for your bow. She'll never admit to having spent hours looking for the flower, but you know.

You are the only mortal with whom she has ever fully lowered her guard. On quiet nights, she will speak to you of her long years, of the weight of immortality and what she has lost to time. It is a privilege she has never extended to any of her Hunters, excluding Zoe, but she can trust you with these moments of weakness.

She's fiercely proud of your skills—you're a really good archer now, thanks to her training. But every time she sees you draw back your bowstring, there's a shadow in her expression. A silent reminder that no matter how strong you get, she'll always see you as the little girl she found in the woods.

The Hunters have grown to regard you as a younger sibling, too, but none are quite as overprotective as Artemis. They tease you that you've turned their goddess into a worrywart, but behind the words is an edge of keen sincerity. They truly know just how much you've come to mean to her.

Artemis won't let any other gods near you, not even Apollo, who is especially curious about her "little mortal." The rest of the Olympians are just so unpredictable, and only the thought of you getting embroiled in their games can send Artemis's blood up in a storm. Once, on the rare occasion that Apollo did get to meet you, Artemis hovered, arms crossed, eyes narrowed, ready to intervene at the first hint of trouble.

She trusts you, though sometimes, with all of her over-protectiveness, it may not always show; she has seen the strength in you, in the resilience that keeps you moving forward when things get hard. But even as she wants to hold you close and protect you from everything, it seems, she knows in the end she is going to have to let you forge your path.

But until then, she will hold you close to her, protectively guarding you as the moon would guard the night sky, prepared to face all dangers that may come your way. To her, you were that one speck of warmth which she never had imagined coming her way, a light in her endless, lonely nights. And she will do all it takes to keep that light safe.

[undiscovered-horizon]

[Apparently, all it takes for a doomed man to feel hope again is bad flirting and corny jokes. Or maybe it's about the comforting presence of someone he loves?]

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Whether Gale wants it or not, he's a quite predictable person. His reliability seems to extend far enough for you to always be able to correctly guess where he might be when the wizard is not near his tent. Although his tendency for routines might be mistaken for something dull, you've always thought of it as somewhat comforting - that among all the chaos that your life has become, there's a sense of regularity; the comfort of knowing how to navigate certain situations.

Just as you knew he would, Gale is sitting by the riverside. His back is slouched as he mindlessly reaches to grab a blade of grass, tear it off, and let his fingers play with it. Brown eyes would be intently staring at the flowing stream if their owner wasn't so lost in thought.

He hears you coming, dry leaves crumble under your feet but he makes no effort to look over his shoulder. Maybe you're actually a wild raccoon that will finally put him out of his misery... On second thought, that is a rather pathetic end for a wizard as great as him. To die by a raccoon. Ha!

"Hey handsome, come here often?" you ask as you sit down next to him.

Gale's robes once smelled of musty books and seawater but during your travels, they have lost their original fragrance in favour of a fresh aroma of pine needles, campfire smoke and herbal medicine. It gave him an "edge", if such a word could coexist with the wizard's homebody way of life.

"Only when I wish to wallow in pity," he answers. Although it's fleeting, almost secretive, you do notice the glance he gives you.

You raise an eyebrow at his response. "And that's often?"

A sad chuckle rumbles in his chest. Gale looks down at his fingers, for the very first time studying what his hands do with the long blades of grass. "A lot more than I'd like to admit." He actually bothers to make himself sound light-hearted but the dread eating him up has already soaked into his words.

You put your elbow on your knee and rest your chin on top of your hand. The new angle allows you to see more of his face, not that it changes your impression. Something's eating him up. "Is this what pretty wizards frequently engage in? I think I ought to update my schedule."

He looks almost like a painting, you think. The one a cleric would put up at the temple, a depiction of martyrhood in the name of something greater. Normally, you'd shrug at the thought of some poor sod thinking that making themself suffer will somehow please their god. It sounds like a questionable freedom of choice at best. But in Gale's case, you can't just shrug. Not anymore. Not since the two of you made it very obvious there's nothing platonic going on.

"I think you'll find that a moping wizard is hardly treasured company."

"Then maybe I should help him stop moping." Playfully, you bump your shoulder into his.

A sad smile graces his face. His brown eyes give you a quick glance again. Gale just can't help his longing. "As much as I appreciate the thought and the effort," he tries to sound unbothered, "my troubles already take up enough of your time. The others might want to have a word with you too."

Not a thing about Gale's statement surprises you. He's always wearing a facade of "Don't worry about little old me" but having gotten closer to the man, you know he's far from that - he wants someone to worry, only doesn't have the pride to ask for that. Part of him probably thinks he ought to earn the right to take up the space in someone's mind. How silly.

Gale's eyes return to you when he sees your fingers sneaking between his hands and a blade of grass he was playing with. No matter what he might say and how laid back he attempts to appear, all of his half-hearted bluffs dissipate when he forms a tight grip around your fingers.

"And I want to have a few words with you," you tell him in round terms. "Well, I want to have many things with you but I guess I can settle for a good old-fashioned conversation."

"I, erm..." he hangs his voice at your allusion. The blush on his cheeks is barely visible in the darkness of the night but you can tell it's there - his whole body is suddenly on fire. Gale clears his throat. "Enlighten me, then! What sort of lexicon do you wish to bestow upon me?"

You can't help the whole-hearted chuckle that leaves your lips. "You're really adorable when you talk all sophisticated." Gale laughs nervously at the compliment and he's just about to say something back but before he gets the chance, you reveal the truth about your arrival. "On a more serious note, I didn't have any endgame plan. I just thought that I'm going to ask you what's on your mind and no matter what you answer, I'm going to bless you with my presence until one of us falls asleep."

For the first time this evening, Gale's eyes linger on you for a long while. Although his initial embarrassment at your boldness is now gone, a sense of nervousness lingers. But do not misunderstand - it's a welcome kind of tension; the anxiety of holding something dear and fearing breaking it. "I'd very much like that," he answers. A small smile of genuine happiness curves his lips.

Gale momentarily tenses up when you lay your head on his shoulder. Then, as though paradoxically a weight has been lifted from his back, he finds himself sighing.

Strangely enough, he feels... calm. Too caught up in his thoughts of impending doom and past failures, Gale has been oblivious to the good things in his life. Especially in the present. He tries to grasp at the fleeting thoughts he had been pitifully entertaining for the past hour or so but they escape his focus. Now that each of his breathes is filled with the smell of campfire smoke and fragrant oils that stuck to your skin, the doom that had been haunting him before dissipates like storm clouds blown away by the wind. Part of him wants to laugh - the morbid scenarios that once rendered him sleepless seem so trivial now. Gale was dealt a bloody difficult hand, yes, but that doesn't mean it's impossible to play it, does it?

He's known hope for a long time but only now does he see her. And what a wonder it is that she's wearing your face.

[mayasaurusss]

Day one: Mushroom hunting

Today is quiet. Everyone is doing their best to provide for the group: finding wood to burn, gathering herbs or hunting. You sit near the campfire, cutting off wood with the point of the knife to create makeshift arrows. You hear her before you see her. Lottie sit next to you, looking at your work. "What are you doing?" she asks, attempting to small talk with you, only to get shut down by your sour mood. "I'm making an arrow. Isn't it obvious?" she's a little hurt by your words but doesn't say anything. Both of you changed since the crash, and your relastionship is slowly deteriorating away.

You guys never even kiss that much anymore, only exchanging quick pecs here and there. She knows you still love her, and she loves you too, but the impending doom hanging on your head is making it difficult to enjoy anything.

She has to think of something, and fast.

When she sees Mari chopping the remains of meat and herbs, she has an idea. "We should go look for mushrooms" she tells you with that calm voice of hers, getting your attention. "What? But- but I am making-" she shush you before you can finish your sentence. "I know what you are making, but we should go look for food".

"Okay, I'll go take Misty-" you feel her hand pressing down on yours, her dark eyes peering into yours. "Let's go, just the two of us".

"But...Misty can recognize mushrooms..." you point to where the cabin, where Misty is, probably checking in on Ben.

"She's not the only one who can do that" her legs strech as she gets up, towering over your figure, "So? Let's go".

This is how you end up tailing after Lottie, hearing leaves crunch beneath your feet.

"Are you sure you know how to distinguish mushrooms? I'd rather not be accidentally poisoned" you kick a chestnut away, accidentally hitting Lottie's shin with it. She looks at the chestnut, then at you, then again at the chestnut before continuing to walk.

"Yeah. I know mushrooms. I have been reading a lot of books about them" that sound pretty weird coming from Lottie. The tought that one of the most popoular girls at school is truly a nerd at heart is endearing at best.

You let out a small laugh, "What's the sudden interest in mushrooms?" Lottie hums in thought, recalling an old memory of hers.

"When I was little, I had gone to my home's backyard. It rained the night before, so there were mushrooms everywhere". With the point of the knife you used prior, she carves a sign on one of the trees, indicating your passage.

"I was a pretty dumb kid, so I thought that those were just normal mushrooms. I didn't know how to cook them -obviously- so I took a bite out of one". She lets out a small laugh, one that you have missed ever since the crash. "I got food poisoned. My parents had to drive me to the nearest hospital and I had to get a stomach pump".

"So I decided I would study them so I wouldn't get poisoned again. Then I learnt that they're very complex..." she stops for a moment in her tracks, thinking, "...fungi".

"You forgot what they are, didn't you?" you only recive a huffed hum in response. Suddenly, Lottie bends over and inspects the root of a tree. There are various mushrooms growing at the root of the tree, golden and funnel shaped. "These are Chanterelles. They are good for eating" she cuts the stems and places them in her backpack.

"What about these?" you gesture to some white ones with a round top. "Are their gills brown or yellow?" you look to see a reddish brown colour on the underside of the caps.

"Brown" Lottie's voice rings behind you, "Take it, it's edible".

"And these ones?" you point to a small patch of round and flat mushrooms. They are white in colour, darkening to a deep brown towards the centre.

Lottie tails behind you before you can touch them. "No! Don't touch those!" she takes your wrist in her hand and holds it, worry written all over her face. "H-Have you touched them? Are you okay?" the situation is less than ideal to think so, but you can't help but feel a slight hold on your heart when you see Lottie so worked up over your safety.

"Uh- yes, yes I am okay" she breaths out a sigh of relief, helping you stand up. "So...are those very poisonous?", Lottie let's out a worried laugh, "Well, they're called 'Death Cap' so, make of that what you will". Lottie seem absent, having gone silent. "Look" she says, attracting your attention.

The last sunrays are flooding in between the trees, tinting the forest floor with a warm light. You can see the sun peering in between the branches, red like the last flames of a dying fire. Wind blows through the leaves, creating an echo throughout the entire forest.

You are at loss of words, only admiring the beautiful scenery in front of you. "It's beautiful, isn't it?" then there's Lottie, standing as a black figure against the sunrays. She is ethereal.

"Shall we get back?"

You speak, and your voice doesn't truly sounds like yours; your heart cries for something. "I missed you" is what you tell her, earning a sad smile from her, "I know".

[yourmomxx]

— random relationship headcanons for jj maybank —

male!reader

a bit nsfw under the cut

just to be clear from the very beginning, we are talking about a secret relationship here

I mean come on, jj has a dead-beat dad, he’s not just gonna go all out and tell him “yeah i’m fucking someone with a dick fyi”

ain’t happening

starting a relationship with jj was hard, he kept pushing you away because of his fear of attachment and his trust issues

But you didn’t let him push you away

It took a while for him to let you in

But after those walls were broken, he was justKirk the most affectionate boyfriend ever

Everyday he would wake you and not know how he deserved you, and the pogues would never hear the end of it

so yes, obviously the pogues know about your relationship

even if he kept it a secret from them, too, at first

kie was the first to actually figure it out

because john b is a bit slow

and pope thought y’all were just really good friends

(no one had the heart to tell him what really made the bumping noises in the next room)

but they all love you

while you’re dating jj, you’re a pogue now, like it or not

you most definitely had it easier than sarah

but hey maybe that’s because your brother wants a psychopathic killer

speaking of siblings, if you have some (younger ones), jj adores them

like, seriously, he always tries to include them whenever you do things together, and jokes and plays around with them

if your siblings are older, they’re a bit suspicious of him first, but eventually grow really fond of him and start seeing him like a sort of a little brother too

we ain’t mentioning JJ’s dad in this house

except for the times where you threatened to beat him up until it was him lying in a hospital bed rather than his son

jj always held you back tho

he told you his father wasn’t worth a sentence in prison

you always take care of JJ’s wounds, even when he’s reluctant about it at first

silent smoking sessions where the two of you simply enjoy each other’s company

“who’s the man in the relationship?” “there’s no man in our relationship, idiot, but if there was, it’d be me.”

he always brags about you when he’s with the pogues

“did you know that y/n did …”

“y/n actually told me …”

“have you seen how fucking good y/n looks today?”

“can’t believe I fucking pulled that.”

the pogues mostly just smile and nod along, knowing how happy you truly make him

he’s just drooling whenever you walk over to him, shirtless with wet hair and only in swim shorts

his brain short circuits

It’s like that one slowmo scene in baywatch ya know

jj plans the cutest dates

like stargazing, small roadtrips, surfing together, campfires with roasting marshmallows

soft touches

and because you two aren’t in a public relationship, I am so heavy on this

like imagine you’re walking to the beach with the pogues, all together laughing and chatting

and you walk so close to jj that your shoulder always *accidentally* bumps his. all the time.

or bonfires

sitting next to each other and each talking to someone, but your knees are so close that they are just touching the entire time

you can feel jj’s warm skin against yours and it sends something like electric waves down your body

fingers linking slightly when you stand near each other or walk with the pogues to the beach

putting your head on the other’s shoulder because that’s not gay you’re “just tired”

shoulders or arms grazing when you’re close

your pinky linking with his thumb when your hands are placed near each other

f o r e h e a d t o u c h e s

hello and goodbye kisses

puts his arms around your waist from behind and lays his head on your shoulder or upper back when he’s tired (and you’re with the pogues)

falls asleep leaned against you when you’re at john b’s hanging out with the pogues

such dramatic golden retriever puppy energy

says he will literally die if he doesn’t get enough touches and kisses from you

jj practically lives at your apartment

he has his own toothbrushes over there and everything

when he’s at home he sleeps in your clothes because they smell like you and it comforts him

will literally return said clothes to you and tell you to wash/wear them because they lost your scent

with jj’s impulsive personality it’s hard, but the two of you do your best to argue as little as possible

and even when, you try your best to not yell and trigger him, but to be honest - the two of you rarely argue. like, heavily

of course there’s some harsh exchanges from time to time but not ever screaming fights or something like that

communication is key in your relationship

you’ve ensured that from the very beginning

you promised to talk things out when you feel like there are problems or something that needs to be talked about and then you can work on it together

there is literally no grudges you hold that could be thrown at each other to worsen arguments

cooking breakfast for him because you want to let him sleep in

stealing away from parties or bonfires to have some private time

his wardrobe is mostly your clothes

you would go to jail for each other

“jj i swear if you don’t stop pissing off police officers-“

you meet him at the beach to watch him surf

because he’s so talented, of course, not because you want to see him shirtless or anything

he’s the best at cheering you up

he’s everything but a dry texter

you mostly cook because the only meal this man knows how to make is toast and pasta

how he’s survived this long without you is a mystery

jealousy because, again, secret relationship

“I thought you weren’t the jealous type?”

“oh, I’m not.”

“so the girl over there that’s talking and smiling all over jj has totally nothing to do with the fact that you’ve absolutely crushed your plastic cup?”

“mhm.”

but not in an i don’t trust you and I think that you will cheat on me-way jealous, more in a you’re mine and seeing you with other people that i know don’t know that physically hurts me-typa way

has his own private smile for you, all teeth and giggles, and just so in love

you give jj your clothes and he gave you one of his leather bracelets to wear

knuckle kisses

just staying in bed all day and cuddling

he has less nightmares when he sleeps next to you

whenever jj got out of the water after surfing, he would make sure to hug you, no matter how much you struggled to push him off you, so you would get just as wet as him

— nsfw ————————————————

you actually had to introduce jj to a few things because he had never done them before or ever even heard of them

he’s good with girls but the whole boy thing? that was new territory

so you had to teach him some stuff

but it turns out, jj is a quick learner - when he wants to be

he’s a switch but mostly bottoms

it’s his inner child that just wants someone to take care of him

sometimes the sex helps him to calm down after his dad hurt him, but that is a thin line to walk

he whimpers

he has a praise kink

“so beautiful” “my handsome boy” “atta boy that’s a good one”

those just do it for him

there’s times when it’s just rough and emotional and angsty (cue choking, knife-play, heavy dirty talk and degradation)

and other times that are slow and soft and loving (cue praise, careful movements, private mornings, many and long kisses)

he takes a shower and you just surprise him by stepping in too

quickies on the boats that jj is supposed to clean (you officially keep him company for “moral support”)

his sweaty surfer curls sticking to his forehead after while he’s grinning at you😫😫

head in small caves at the beach

hickies because “if that girl tries hitting on you one more time, I am gonna hit her. with my car- ”

the pogues tease him about them the morning after

“ayo jj had a rough night I see?”

teasing. like so much. from both sides

whether it be “innocent” touches or well-placed words … it’s all over the place

high sex

handjobs in the back of john b’s twinkie

[lorimnnn]

Hi! I really liked your Ghostface crybaby! Post! I was wandering if your requests are open if you’d write a Ghostface with a unrequited survivor/reader/yn where Ghostface has the hots but the survivor/yn just ain’t feeling it. If requests aren’t open plz ignore! But seriously love your work! Totally made my day!

ahhhh i usually hate angsty things like this so I actually considering not doing it.... but the potential was too good to resist. ty for your kind words, i seriously love writing up requests <3

p.s. i accidentally deleted it and got so unmotivated :((((( here it is though

the second he sees you he's convinced the entity has sent him a gift. you're literally his type head to toe and while he's insanely attracted to you, he's twice as excited to kill you

you become his obsession.

over. and over again.

your teammates realise that he will always go after you first if he can and they abuse this fact to an inch of it's life. you understand, of course.

you hate pain. the innocent type, the sweet type. compassionate to a fault even if it's plunged you into pain again and again.

Ghostface wants to break you

there is a perverse thrill in seeing you helpless in the dirt, sobbing, begging him to stop. he has to have mori-d you one thousand times across all the trials you've had together, now. but it never hurts any less and you never get used to it.

you don't seem to understand that this is a game, either. it's like real life.

"God, you're hot." His breath shutters in his throat as he takes you in, bloody and shivering on the ground. The Entity had been feeling generous recently and because of his good behaviour, had put you in a skimpy little dress.

You whimper when he nears.

"No, no no," you say, trying to back away from him. "Please."

"You know it turns me on when you beg, babe."

You sob harder when he crouches, weaving one hand into the back of your hair to haul you upright and against him. As always, he's deceivingly gentle. If not for his wondering hands you'd think he felt bad for you--- but that was never the case.

"Please stop," you say again.

"Now why would I do that?" He combs his gloved hand through your hair. The metallic scent of your blood has him dizzy and plunged into a haze that is purely you. You, you, you. Sometimes he swears he could care less about hurting you. He just wants to see you. Your face, contorting with pain, with a smile, with---

So maybe he liked you a little.

"I know I'm your favourite," he says confidently, and then rearranges you to sit in his lap. You sniffle. He groans.

You're so cute.

And you can't help it, even if you're afraid of him--- by nature you've always been obedient and timid and good. So good. It had costed you everything by the end.

It makes him feel so powerful.

Makes you feel so small.

"I'll give you the hatch if you play nice today," he lies. He rubs your thigh and nuzzles your hair, the plastic probing into your bruised flesh. "Hm? What about it?"

You hate him.

You hate him so much.

And before you know it, it's falling out of your mouth, bitter and harsh and sapping almost all of your remaining energy.

"I hate you. Fuck you."

It's so unexpected that he flinches.

He knows you're not best friends or anything, but he never prepared himself to hear it. and it was different

it actually hurt

and you said in the same way the he claimed to like you--- eternally, unchanging, unaltered

was it the continuous mori-ing?

you had to understand that everything in-trial was purely business, even if he did get a good kick out of it. after a while he'd gotten used to how naive you were and assumed he could twist it to fit his ways

he underestimated you

and he hates himself for feeling like he doesn't know you when you say this, because he's obsessed in every sense of the word. he watches you at the campfire, doting on your teammates. so kind. bright, smiley. then you would cry yourself to sleep and he would only feel the littlest bit bad, but not enough to count

but he should have guessed it

he shouldn't feel hurt by it, either--- you're his victim first and foremost. his beautiful, kind, compassionate victim who he wanted to lock away and protect as much as he wanted to hurt.

he'd never seen you so set in your ways before. so strong. it was a complete contrast to your usual soft-spoken shyness.

He blinked, incredulous. "Aw, sweetheart. I'm sure it isn't personal."

"I hope you die in a ditch."

"You killing me would be hot."

You don't laugh.

Now he's starting to panic a little, because usually he can ignore it. You never laugh. But he can't deny it now.

You hate him.

More than anything in this plane of existence. And that's a problem. Because after this trial, it quickly occurs to him that he doesn't only like you, but likes you a lot. More than he should be allowed. Against his own will he finds his work ethic challenged and his sadistic pleasure dwindling into his guilt, his sole motivation to stay sane in this shitty reality. Now he doesn't know what to make of it.

What was he supposed to do?

He tries everything after that. He genuinely starts trying to give you the hatch and now you're slamming pallets over his head with twice as much of force.

He starts getting artsy with his pictures of you. You're actually alive in these ones. You throw every single one into the fire.

Fuck. He even consults Bubba for help and picks out a bunch of flowers to give to you alongside a heartfelt apology, but you laugh in his face.

it hurts

it hurts even more when you leave and cuddle up to some of the survivors--- the people who left you behind time and time again. the fact that you'd rather them over him spoke volumes and he would find himself incurably jealous.

he couldn't even hurt them to get over it because it would only make you hate him more

for the first time in his life, Jed Olsen regretted killing. It had led him to you and also driven the two of you apart with twice as much force

he hates it

he hates what you've done to him and he hates that he's starting to love you and he hates, most of all---

the fact you will never love him back

[mintmatcha]

I loved part two so much😭😭

Gib more Obi pls

Draconic works more like a melody than it does a language. It's tonal, drifting high and low as the two dragonborns speak, each word rolling into the next. It lingers in the air, unrushed and growled, pushed from the back of the throat in ways you're not sure your body could ever recreate. Sometimes, the conversation seems to have an edge of anger and it sets your body on guard, but then Obsidian dissolves into laughter and you relax.

You shouldn't be on edge anyway; the dark scaled stranger isn't //actually// a stranger. Jasper Vyke towers over his brother even when seated, but the strong angled spikes and ridges to his face are almost identical. His eyes keep flickering to yours as he talks, no hint of humor present on his stony features.

"You stare." Jasper jerks a chin to you.

"I'm sorry," you say, turning your attention to the campfire. "I didn't expect you two to look so similar."

"Well-" Obi covers his mouth with the back of his hand, but it doesn't hide his smile, "We are twins, my lady."

Meeting Jasper was completely a coincidence. Crossed paths led to a surprise family reunion and now the man sits at your fire, gnawing on the leg of some poor animal he hunted earlier. From stories and your brief interactions, you knew the two would be vastly different people--

You didn't expect that to almost share a face.

"We are, uh-- How do you say in Common?" He can speak Common fairly well, Obi told you once, he just prefers his Mothertongue. It's a point of pride.

"Identical."

"Indentical," Jasper repeats, "Obsidian is the smart one. I am the pretty one."

He flexes a bicep and the muscle coils under the skin. You hate to admit that you do find it attractive-- not as attractive as you find your partner, of course, but it does make you sit a little straighter. If Obi notices, he doesn't seem it mind; he's too busy watching his brother with narrowed eyes.

"I don't think you are identical at all," you say, "Obi's so much--"

"Smaller!" Jasper laughs, leaning in close to nudge you with his elbow. "So much smaller. He is the runt."

"I guess so," You agree with him, but you sense that may hurt your partner's ego, so you keep quiet, "But you are also different colors."

You touch Jasper's arm, running a thumb across a patch of scales. It's no wear near as soft as Obsidian's; there's a dry grit to the texture, closer to shark skin than anything else.

"Obsidian is iridescent-- your scales are matte," you say, "They don't shine in the light at all."

"You like my scales?" Jasper asks, chest puffed and a purr on his voice. He scooches in closer to you, leg pressed against yours, "I will give you one to keep."

Obi snaps his jaws together so forcefully that you jump at the sound. Both of you swivel to face the man. His muzzle is furrowed wildly, so much so that his fangs show to the gums. The air shifts and you can almost see the way magic crackles about him, wild, powerful, and raw. "She has plenty of scales, brother."

An anxiety builds in your chest. You aren't sure where this conflict came from, but you sense you did something wrong.

"Obi, it's fine, I like--"

Obi's attention snaps to you. "If you wish to have a scale to carry I will give you as many as you desire. You do not need anyone else's."

They switch to Draconic again, sharing a low toned conversation. Obsidian may be the smaller brother, but he carries himself with a force that has Jasper quickly backing off.

"Forgive me," The larger brother says to you suddenly.

The apology doesn't make you feel better. The seasick feeling in your chest grows more unsteady and you choose to remain quiet for the rest of the night. It's not until later than night, when Jasper is deep in sleep and snoring like thunder, that Obi approaches you again. He moves his sleeping mat closer to yours, testing your reaction, then moves again.

"Are you cross with me?" he whispers.

"You frightened me a bit," you admit just as softly, "I get unsettled easy after Adam."

Elaboration isn't needed. There's a twitch of a sneer on Obi's face when you mention him, but he mellows out again after.

"I'm truly sorry, my fawn. My anger was not focused at you," he says, "I will take care not to react like that again."

He extends a hand and you take it with a squeeze. The unsteadiness inside you quells just a bit.

"Jasper was trying to court you," Obsidian says after a bit, "And it scared me."

You forget Obi - silver tongued, charismatic Obi- is self conscious about so many things. Did he really think his brother would swoop in so easily and win your heart?

"I didn't realize. I thought he was just being nice."

"Exchanging scales is a dragonborn custom. It's my fault for not explaining it to you," he sighs, "I just..."

He doesn't finish his sentence. You don't need him too. You just squeeze his hand again, stronger this time.

"Why have you never given me a scale?"

"I did not think you would like one, my fawn."

"I want two," you say, quickly, "I shall turn them into earrings so they are always with me."

"They are not jewels," he chuckles, "They will not make very pretty jewelry."

"I disagree."

Obi doesn't respond, but you can hear the soft clicks of his purr, building in his throat.

[moesthoughts]

Would love to see first kiss headcannons for the camp counselors

How would your first kiss be?

camp councilors x gen neu reader

warnings . . . fluff, suggestive if you squint

for the sake of max and laura’s hcs they aren’t together

dylan lenivy

Behind all the jokes and surprisingly smooth pick up lines, Dylan isn’t the most confident of people. Socially awkward is the word to describe him.

It’s you who makes the first move, the constant flirting and tension between you both practically drove you insane, you couldn’t wait any longer.

It was like any normal day, Dylan talking your ear off, making jokes to attempt to make you laugh. The way you hit his shoulder when he manages to get a chuckle out of you fills his stomach with butterflies.

“You just can’t keep your hands off of me can you?” Comes from his mouth, you’re not sure who’s face lit up brighter. You stare at him, and he instantly waves his hands around. Trying to play it off as a joke.

In the middle of his sentence you cut him off by pressing your lips against his, retreating away instantly, you scan his face for any discomfort.

To say he was taken off guard was an understatement, though once he regained consciousness from his dazed state. He chased you back down, lips crashing against yours. You kissed him back, your arms wrapping around his neck to deepen it.

He was pressed against the wall, sheepish arms snake around you. Your head was dizzy, your thoughts were clouded by Dylan.

You two would’ve gone further if it wasn’t for the “oh shit!” from kaitlyn, walking in on you two in the radio shack. You weren’t living this down.

nick furcillo

You and Nick had a pretty tight knit relationship, you both work in the kitchen so it wasn’t surprising that you are practically attached at the hip.

There was strong mutual attraction between you two, though both failed to recognize one another’s feelings.

It was the end of dinner time, and clean up was finished half an hour ago. Still, You and Nick were idle in the kitchen talking about whatever crossed your minds.

“Hey Nick, I have a question.” You spoke up, he hummed in response, raising an eyebrow. The way his name fell out of your mouth was perfect.

“Do you.. like anyone so far at camp?— Romantically.” Your feet acted on their own, slowly approaching the other. You lean on the counter near him, he seemed nervous.

“Well..” He started, his accent strong. You didn’t expect to feel a tug on your wrist, pulling you closer to him. His brown eyes were focused on your hand, his thumb caressing your knuckles. “I like you, a lot. I don’t think anyone else here interests me as much as you.”

Your cheeks tinted a soft hue of red. Out of every councilor, you weren’t expecting your name to roll off his tongue.

“That’s good to know. Yknow I feel the same way—“ before you could finish, Nick’s lips found yours, pulling you into a delicate kiss. His lips were soft and tasted like mint chapstick, your fingers wormed around his to interlock your hands.

You pull away to catch air, you opened your eyes to meet his. He was so enamored with you, it made you melt even more.

“Why don’t we go down to the campfire?” You interrupted the moment, Nick hurriedly nodded in agreement.

ryan erzahler

Ryan didn’t go out of his way to talk to the other councilors, they usually went to him. Which is exactly what you did, made an effort to talk to him. His loner persona was alluring, you never could take your eyes off of him.

You two became close surprisingly quickly, Ryan enjoys talking to you, and of course you feel the same. Conversation flows smoothly between you guys. The others quickly noticed.

Neither of you can think of a time where you haven’t been together, quality time is important in your relationship. Whether it was walking, hanging out silently, or simple quiet chit chatter.

The small things matter the most, it didn’t need to be any bigger than it already was.

You two were sitting on a log in the forest, watching the view in front of you, your eyes fixate on the view in front of you, Ryan’s rest on your face, examining your facial features.

His hand rested on yours, causing you to look over with a smile. The way he looks at you always makes you nervous.

You liked each other, it’s was obvious even to you. You lean closer to him, your eyes do the communicating. Ryan scoots closer, and pecks you on the lips, one, two, three times before going in for an actual kiss.

Your free hand cups his cheek, he leans into it with a small hum. Thank god for silent communication.

jacob custos

Jacob is a pretty open person, if he’s attracted to someone he will pursue them straight away. What can he say, he’s a charming guy!

From the start of camp, Jacob had a little “hallway crush” on you. Orientation was where it started, He couldn’t take his eyes off you. You’re attractive, and have a certain energy to you that just pulls him in.

You find yourself getting close to Jacob over the first month of camp, you two just couldn’t stop bumping into each other! of course it was on purpose, he just adores talking with you.

At one point he asked you to sneak out, of course you agree. Which brings you to the present, sitting at the dock with your legs dangling over the water. Talking about who knows what, Jacob sure knows how to keep a conversation alive.

“Hey I actually do have something important to ask you—“ Jacob suddenly switched the conversation, you look at him with curiosity. “Sure. What’s up?”

“So I actually am very into you, like very. I was wondering if yknow.. you, me? would be work out?” Jacob points his fingers back and forth between you both, you snort.

“Yeah duh, I’m into you too.” You respond, scooting closer to him. You can tell he got the hint, by the way he wraps his arm around you and pulls you in for a nice slow kiss.

You slowly bring you and him down, your back is on the dock and he’s half on top of you. The kiss breaks off then comes back alive, more passion blooming.

This has to be the best night so far.

max brinly

Max is a bit clueless, especially when it comes to romance. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t have natural charm, he’s had previous experience in the dating world after all.

Infact, that’s what you’re attracted to about him. Clueless guys are cute, the way he looks at you when he’s confused makes you smile, it’s just so adorable.

You both happened to get paired up during cleaning duty one fateful lunch, you were scared to speak with him at first. Once you did though, you two hit it off instantly. Chatter curing the usual boredom of cleaning.

From that day, you both couldn’t stay away from each other. Max would go out of his way to visit your station (even if you’re actively teaching the kids something) You don’t mind though.

Today, you happened to get some free time in the afternoon. You were quick to tell Max and he seemed happy, you planned to go on a walk with him. So you were in a good mood all day.

On the walk you both chat about your days, though you both stop once you come across two camper’s names etched in the wood, a heart surrounding it. Your heart practically explodes in your chest.

“Cute kids, huh? Hey, why don’t we do the same thing?” You feel heat rise to your cheeks, but you accept either way. Max happened to have a pocket knife on him.

After it was done, you two were crouched in front of it. You equally had red faces. You turn your head towards him and reach your hand out, running your fingers through his hair. You slowly got closer to each other, before connecting with a kiss. Max places his hand on your knee and deepens the kiss.

You break off the kiss, nervous laughter spilling from you both. Once your able to think properly again, you look around you. “Shit— we need to get back for dinner.” You two quickly ran off towards the lodge.

emma mountebank

You and Emma became close pretty quickly, having a shared love for theatre really helped secure that bond. Other than her extroverted personality, you guys clicked easily.

Conversations include gossiping, rambling about your lives outside of summer camp, and complaining about how rowdy the kids could get. Emma is glad she has someone close to talk to about whatever, and You’re just glad you have a friend.

You two happened to also quickly develop feelings for one another, Emma was smitten. You were kind, funny, good with kids, and pretty good looking. You couldn’t get your mind off of her, just speaking with her now made your heart race.

Backstage is where you two were usually hiding from kids, so it wasn’t a surprise that’s where you reside currently. Emma groans, rolling her eyes as you complain about Nick and Abi dancing around their feelings for each other.

“Holy shit, I know! She’s always talking about him and not making a move, I really do love Abi but she’s gotta grow some balls.” She said, resting her head in her hand.

“I don’t think it’s her who needs to grow balls.” There’s a beat before you both break into loud giggles, Emma hit you on the shoulder.

“Hey actually speaking of crushes, do you have the hots for anyone?” Emma readjusts herself, that familiar smirk coming onto her face. It’s always when she’s getting nosey.

“Well it so happens that I actually do.” It’s your turn to smirk, Emma purses her lips and squints at you. Under your poker face, your hearts’ practically beating out of your chest.

“She wouldn’t happen to be right in front of you would she?” She asks, your face heats up.

“And what if she was?” You don’t have time to think, Emma is already pulling you into a kiss. It’s passionate right away, you don’t hesitate before pressing back into her. A satisfied whine is pulled from her.

You guys practically made out for an hour, if it wasn’t for Dylan coming in and forcing you both to help with lunch. You would’ve spent more time together.

abi blyg

Abi is a shy girl, anyone could tell that from miles away. Though that didn’t stop you guys from becoming really close at the beginning of camp, your personalities mix together really well.

You have an appreciation for any kind of art, Which is why you mean so much to Abi. You both bond majorly over your love for art, even if it might be different things you are interested in.

You sit in to watch some of her classes. The first time you decided to observe, she was pretty nervous to have an extra set of eyes on her. But overtime she got back into the flow of things again, her being so passionate made you fall in love then and there.

Abi fell in love the moment you actually made an effort to be her friend and seem genuinely interested in her hobbies, she’s never had someone like that.

Today, Abi invited you over her cabin. She found nail polish in her bag and wanted to paint for nails, you accepted straight away.

“—And I was like, Jacob you can’t just say that about a kid. I mean the lowest you can ever go is shit talk a kid. Especially when you’re at a table next to them!” Gossip spills from your mouth, earning multiple giggles from Abi.

“I’ve been waiting for someone to say something! I thought it was just me who thought it was weird.” She responds, painting your nails with caution. The way she gently holds your hand and puts effort into making your nails look good, it just makes butterflies swirl in your stomach.

Once she finishes your nails you compliment her work, making her a bit bashful.

“Hey Abi.. This is really random but, You’re practically my best friend and I don’t want to ruin what we have. But, I really like you. I want to try to have something more than just friendship.” You notice you catch her off guard, her face lights up as her eyes dart around the room.

“I.. I feel the same, I was also nervous about telling you.” She responds, taking your hands in hers. “Can I.. kiss you?” The question rolls off her tongue oh so beautifully. You instantly nod slowly closing the space between you.

kaitlyn ka

Kaitlyn is a chill girl, her vibes were what attracted you. At first her constant teasing was frustrating. You two had a rocky start, disagreeing a ton.

Though, once you injured yourself in a climbing accident. You both had a chance to finally sit down and get to know each other. Your defensive wall lowered immediately and you both genuinely enjoyed the company.

From then on, You and Kaitlyn formed a tight bond. You found yourself making constant excuses for why you needed to go to the nurses office, retreating from your task just to talk with her.

She always scolds you, but in reality she loves your presence. She adores your personality, and your face is really— fuck she likes you.

You started falling for her as well, the way she handles you so gently, caressing the small bruises you use as an excuse to see her. It makes you feel all fuzzy inside.

For the second time today, you go to the nurses office. You assume that Kaitlyn always expects you to come in, when you enter the doorway and she’s facing the medicine cabinet, she calls out your name without looking.

“Hey Kait’, No injuries this time. I just have a genuine question to ask.” A serious tone fills your voice as you sit on the cot next to her. “You never have an actual injury, dude.” Kaitlyn sasses you, effectively causing you to roll your eyes.

“Anyways, what’s up buttercup?” She turns to you with her eyebrow raised, you exhale out the anxiety that’s festering inside of you. “How do you feel about me? Like genuinely.”

“Are you serious?” Kaitlyn asks, you bite your lip with a sheepish head nod. She laughs a bit before sitting next to you on the cot, her hand resting on your thigh.

“I don’t think i’ve felt this way about someone ever since middle school, I’m so into you it’s no joke. You make me feel so different in the best way.” She looks at you in a way you can tell she’s serious, a smile creeps its way onto your lips.

“You haven’t had bitches since middle school?” You laugh nervously as her eyebrows furrow. “Kidding! Kidding! I feel the exact same way I just didn’t—“ You are cut off from her lips crashing onto yours. You kiss her back, slightly pushing her into the mattress as you do.

You break it off once your lungs start to burn, you both stare at each other with love in your eyes.

laura kearney

Laura is a hardcore animal lover, it was the field she wants to go into anyway. Taking care of animals makes her happy, which is why when she saw you feeding a squirrel a nut stolen from the cafeteria, she instantly had a small attraction to you.

She started speaking to you first, asking about how you feel about animals and mentioning how she saw you feeding a squirrel a nut. You rambled on about your favorite animals and your love for nature.

From then on, You and Laura made an effort to observe the wildlife around you as much as you could. Due to that you two are always together during your free time.

Overtime you developed mutual feelings for each other, You subtly flirted with each other every nature walk you took. Which in turn made you both fall harder.

Both of you are sitting on the steps in front of your cabin, Laura’s head is resting on your shoulder while you write in your shared log about the different types of birds you saw.

She lifts her head off of your shoulder, causing you to glance over at her to see if anything was up. Her eyes stare into yours, it looks like she’s hesitant to say something.

“I just wanted to say, Thank you so much for doing this with me. I mean, I can’t even be more grateful that such a.. lovely person decided to pick up a hobby with me.” Her words turn into mumbles as Laura approaches the end of her sentence, it happens when she’s nervous.

You smile softly, fidgeting with the pen in your hand. “..Yeah?” You feel tension in the air, though it doesn’t feel wrong. It feels so right.

“Yeah.” She responds, you two look at each other for a good minute before she cups your cheek. You set down the notebook knowingly and meet Laura half way, sharing a kiss with her.

You could stay in this moment forever.

FINALLY FINISHED THIS!! I started yapping when i got to the women so excuse that (i’m a lesbian). Also sorry for Laura’s part being lowkey rushed my sleeping meds kicked in towards the end of writing it.

[margowritesthings]

The Greatest Gift A Cowgirl Could Ask For

a @rdrevents Valentines gift exchange for @cowboydisaster

SERIES MASTERLIST

pairing: Arthur Morgan x f!reader word count: 4,400 words warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, explicit language, sexual themes, vaginal sex, mentions of death, unprotected sex, throwing up (TW EMETOPHOBIA), very brief mention of SA in the past, unexpected pregnancy, mentions of Micah Bell a/n: am I britney spears in her 2000 grammy award winning song??? because oops, i did it again. i don't know how I managed to get Bea as my recipient for a SECOND time, but it only felt right to carry on building this universe I've made for her and lying to her about it all week. Whoops.

Bea, my beloved, Happy Valentines Day. You deserve the world and Im so glad I could dedicate this fic to you. Honestly I probably couldn't have gotten the motivation to get back on my feet and write again if it wasn't for you. Thanks for everything you do bby and I hope this lives up to your 'if by some miracle you get me for your gift exchange disregard my prompts and write a TGG prequel' (yes she actually said that) idea. Love you lots xxx

taglist: @cowboydisaster @inkandbloodbound @counteveryfreckle @elifsukirdaghehe @reaveries @delilah-grimes @luvliewriting @mrsarthurmorgan7 @photo1030 @snobbybastard

My Darling Wife,

I’m writing to you from up near Tempest Rim. I’ve tracked this bounty all over the goddamn Grizzlies and I’m ready to come home to you. I miss you so much and I’m real sorry I can’t be home in time for St. Valentines. Hopefully I can catch this bastard soon and make it up to ya. We’ll go to the theatre and sit right at the back, how’s that sound? I’ll move heaven and Earth to be beside you soon, you know I will.

I can’t wait to see you, sweetheart. I’ll be there as fast as I can be with enough money to take you out on the town. Won’t be long, I promise. 

All my love, Arthur

All my love, Arthur

All my love, Arthur

Your finger runs over his looped script, over and over as if it will somehow will your husband out of the crumpled paper and into your bed. It’s been 2 months since the letter arrived, 2 months of the agony of not knowing if he’s dead or alive robbing you of sleep each and every night. You miss him, more than you could ever imagine one person could miss another and you honestly don’t know what you’ll do if he doesn’t come home. 

It’s a 600 dollar bounty, it’s sure to be a tough job you constantly reassure yourself, unable to focus on anything but the absence of half of your very soul in every waking moment. 

The day he comes home starts like any other. Time's arrow marches on, the sun rises and sets over your makeshift family as they work and plan and rob and hunt. You busy yourself planning a job with Karen, cushioned into your schedule between menial tasks so that it’s just that bit easier to not think about him. As usual, your efforts are in vain, but at least the chores are done, your steed Diesel is happy, and, all being well, you and Karen will have about 30 dollars to split between you when the week is out. 

An hour before he comes home, everyone retires to bed, save for John (who’s on watch tonight) and you’re left alone by the campfire. It crackles and pops, embers swirling the air around you. It feels like you stare at the twisting flames until your eyes blur and burn and you can’t tell which are tears of irritation to your senses and which are your heart breaking once more.

Moments before you’re reunited with the second half of your heart, you hear John yelling. It’s instinct that drives your hand into your holster, still resting against your hip despite the late hour, and you perk up like a startled deer, straining to decipher Marston’s words.

“Who is it?!” “Arthur, you dumbass!”

Arthur.

Arthur?

“Arthur?!” It’s a breathless shout, barely heard over the rushing blood in your ears as your feet take you to your husband before your mind can even fathom that he’s here. 

But sure enough, when you reach the edge of camp, heart racing, you see Arthur Morgan riding his chestnut mare straight towards you, spurring her into a gallop as soon as he lays his eye on his waiting wife. Marston probably makes some remark about who ‘decided to show up’, but to you, there is nothing but you and Arthur, two magnets parted by an unnatural force finally reaching each other again with a deafening crash. 

And it is. A crash, that is, when Arthur all but throws himself off his saddle and your bodies collide, great big arms wrapping around your frame. It is then that the tears fall down your cheek, soaking into Arthur’s coat that smells so much like him it truly feels like a dream.

You thought he was dead.

Only when you’re safely in his arms, when he’s pressing frantic kisses to your head, whispering your name over and over into your hair do you allow yourself to admit that fact. You thought he was never coming back, and yet here he is. Words fail you, the overwhelming emotion settling right in your throat.

“Oh, god… oh, darlin’ I-I missed you so much…” 

You feel two large hands cup your cheeks, pulling you in for a kiss that holds everything and anything the past 3 months could have been had you not spent it apart. But everything fits back into place, the world starts spinning again and you’re whole the second Arthur Morgan’s lips meet yours. It lasts a lifetime, it lasts a fraction of a second. You want to stop time, keep Arthur in your arms forever and never again have to go through the torture of being away from each other. The two of you only part to throw near identical scowls at John, who is amusing himself by telling you to get a room.

Unfortunately, as Ms. Grimshaw so often reminds you all, the Van der Linde Camp is not a hotel, so tonight you will not be afforded the luxury of a private suite as John so kindly suggested. There is only your tent, hitched against the gang’s weapons wagon, the old canvas pulled around to offer a little privacy when you and Arthur first started… well, needing the seclusion.

Calloused fingers intertwine with your own digits, Arthur’s other hand flipping John off before his weight pulls you towards your little corner of camp. There's so much purpose in his stride, the need to have you all to himself, not even share you with the lord above or wildlife below, driving him forward. Driving him home. 

When you’re finally, truly alone, the tears welling in your eyes glistening in the candlelight, no words are needed. Soon enough, you’ll talk for hours on end, catching each other up on every little detail of the last few months. But for now, all that there is and all that could matter is right this very second, when Arthur reaches for you, brushing a thumb over the tear tracks on your left cheek. His eyes, looking almost emerald in the dark of night, roam over each and every detail of you with such an intensity in him that you think he’s trying to remember this moment for the rest of time. You’re sure it’s one you could never possibly forget. 

Arthur snakes both arms around your waist, guiding you backwards until the backs of your knees gently hit the cot and you lay back onto it. He covers the full length of you and then some, making you feel so fragile and small. It’s nice to feel breakable for once, to let go of the need to be the strongest in the room, lest you be ridiculed for being too sensitive or too weak or too womanly. Arthur knows just how strong you are, you need to prove nothing to him, so you can submit to his embrace, allow yourself to just breathe for once knowing you can break and there’s re will always be somebody to put you back together.

He lowers himself to your lips, pressing a kiss to them that doesn’t last nearly long enough. Arthur then kisses your nose, then your cheeks and chin, before trailing down to the crook of your neck. Your skin feels as though it’s on fire, so starved for the man you cannot live without that now he’s finally here everything feels that much more intense. The tiniest scrape of Arthur’s teeth against your flesh shoots through every single nerve in your body and you moan right into his ear. You can actually feel him harden against your thigh at the sweet melody of your pleasure. 

Pushing Arthur’s hat off to the side, your fingers rake through his hair, nails scratching at his scalp encouragingly as he nibbles at your skin.

“Oh, Arthur… Oh, I missed you so much…” You breathlessly whisper, feeling your heart skip a beat when he pauses his movements to glance at you from under impossibly long eyelashes, jade green eyes glistening up at you.

“I missed you too, sweetheart. So so much.” His voice is soft, as if he’s handling the peacefulness around you so delicately and it causes the overwhelming emotion to well in your chest and choke up your throat. Arthur sees this, trying not to be too taken with his own surprising amount of emotion himself, and relieves you of your job of a response by directing his attention to the buttons of your shirt. You don’t remember him pushing your jacket off your shoulders, but there it lies on the floor beside the entrance to your tent, so he must have.

Despite the juxtaposition of such dainty buttonholes and such large fingers, Arthur expertly undresses your top half until you’re bare to him. He takes no time at all to take one of your nipples into his mouth, kissing and sucking at it with a hunger you feel right in your toes. You moan loudly, unable to stop yourself after yearning for this very feeling for so long. 

Arthur coos and shushes you and it vibrates across your skin, not helping you stay quiet in the slightest. The hand not tugging on his dirty blonde locks reaches between your two longing bodies to begin to unbuckle his belt. You can feel your own heartbeat throbbing between your legs, your coil growing tighter and tighter by the second. It’s been almost 3 months since your bodies have joined like this, and yet you’re not sure you can wait another minute. 

You’re purring for Arthur, twitching and grinding as your hand fumbles desperately at the belt. His absence from your skin is agony the second he pulls his hips back to sit up straight. Spotting your downright bratty expression, bottom lip protruding in a pout, Arthur chuckles lowly, “Patience, baby… I gotta get these damn clothes off us.” He gestures to his belt, still very much buckled around his waist. Definitely not your fault. He was being far too distracting.

He’s quick, you’ll give him that, shedding his clothes without taking his eyes off you. You burn under his stare, even more so when he crawls back on top of you to slide your boots off one by one and peel your pants and undergarments down your legs.

The heat radiates off his huge body, his cock pulsing with need. The way he’s putting his weight into his arms to stop from crushing you with his weight adds a definition to his already beautifully sculpted body. Reaching down, you brush the tip of your finger oh so gently over his rosy head, finding a bead of cum already leaking, and you snap. You can’t wait a second longer, scratching and gripping at him like he’s the air you need to breathe.

“Please, Arthur, please I need you. S-So long, it’s been so long-” “Shh, I know, princess, I know. I’m gonna take care of you, okay? Gonna take care of your pretty little cunt, I promise.” He soothes you, though his own voice is shaky from the very effort of restraining himself, maintaining his control to not drive into you and ruin you. While he whispers to you, he lines himself up at your entrance and you quiver in anticipation.

In all your years before you met Arthur, you never really saw sex as anything but something to give, or worse, something to be taken from you. You never truly understood, not until you met Arthur, who taught you it’s something to share, to experience. With Arthur, it’s different. It is connection and pleasure and it’s wonderful and god damn it, it’s addictive. So when Arthur slides into you, letting out a visceral, guttural groan as he does, everything is right in the world.

You feel so full, especially when Arthur pushes all the way to the hilt, connecting you completely at the pelvis. The moan that escapes your lips is downright obscene and Arthur crashes down into your mouth to swallow it. 

Maybe it’s the fact that it’s been so long, or the emotion of it all, but you swear you can feel everything. Every vein and ridge, every twitch and movement of his perfect cock as Arthur slowly starts to move in and out of you. 

“Fuck… s-so good, darlin. So tight- y’feel so fucking good, princess…”

You’ve never hurtled so close towards a climax so quickly in your life. His torturously slow, deep thrusts drag into your sweet spot every fucking time and trying to hold back brings a blur into your vision. Your own hips grind against his, Arthur gripping into your flesh to guide you perfectly in time with him.

“I-I’m so close already, Arthur… fuck…” You breathe out, your breath tickling Arthur’s ear and sending a visible shudder down his spine. He looks proud at your admission.

“You missed me that much, huh? Gonna cum for me already, darlin’?” 

He gives you no time to respond, pressing a thumb to your clit and rubbing in time with everything else. You implode, pulling Arthur down to catch the scream you’re about to wake everybody up with. It has never felt so intense, and with every thrust Arthur fucks into you it only grows and grows, shattering you to pieces for Arthur to fix back together again. 

When you return, a rhythmic thudding in your ears, the first thing you see is Arthur, of course. His jaw is fluttering madly, a bead of sweat clinging to his forehead but the candlelight makes him look ethereal. You still can’t believe he’s here, alive.

Tears start to glisten in your eyes. You’ve never cried during sex before, not for anything positive, at least, but somehow this doesn’t feel wrong. Arthur slows again, watching you, and you spot an extra shine to his own jade orbs. He knows. He feels it too. 

He’s right there with you. As he always is.

He brushes a piece of hair stuck to your forehead away, and the gesture is enough to send the tears falling down the same worn path on your cheeks as before.

“I love you, Mr. Morgan…” “I love you, Mrs. Morgan…” 

It seems to become too much for Arthur to stay still, and you’re glad for it. You’re desperate for the friction, already flying towards another orgasm. He’s really fucking into you this time, pulling almost all the way out before driving back in. He’s groaning and growling and you decide in that moment that it’s your favourite sound in all the world. 

“I… I ain’t gonna last much longer, baby…”

“C-Cum in me…” “Huh?” He slows, shuddering at the exertion required to control his movements, “I-”

But you’re not listening to his protests, your nails digging into the skin of his back and ass and anywhere else you can reach to urge him forwards again.

“Please Arthur, I-I need you… I need you to cum with me, I need you with me…” you plead with him, not truly understanding your need but honouring it. You’ve been without him for so long, you deserve him with you now.

He appears to consider you for just a moment, before diving down to lock your lips with his. His tongue delves into your mouth, tasting every bit of you and he starts to pump into you unreservedly. His body grinds against yours and the friction is perfect and you’re so fucking full and before you can even try to hold back, you’re cumming again, stars scattering your vision, heart pounding out of your chest to find release from it’s mortal, physical cage. Your inner walls twitch around Arthur’s length and this time, he doesn’t hold back either. 

His eyes fly open and lock onto yours as you both climax together. It’s vulnerable and strange, but perhaps more connected than you ever thought possible for two people to be. 

Arthur’s cock twitches inside you, pumping out his spend as he groans viscerally, completely losing control of his rhythm as he thrusts into you one last time, harsh and deep. You’ve never experienced this before, with Arthur or any other man, normally erring on the side of caution when it came to such matters, but even as you come down you can’t bring yourself to regret it. Whatever you and Arthur just experienced together felt spiritual, and worth much more than a little risk.

Arthur collapses, even as depleted as he is still considerate enough to collapse onto his elbows and not crush you. He slides out of you, earning a little wince, and rolls to the side so you can rest your head on his chest. It’s like a locket that’s been ripped apart, finally fixed together with the most satisfying click. 

═══════☆═══════

Two months later, life has returned to its equilibrium. You and Arthur are perhaps clingier, still in a sort of second honeymoon phase where you just can’t seem to keep your hands off each other, more so than usual. It’s a side effect of prolonged solitude, you’re sure.

The first time it happens, you blame Pearson and think nothing of it. It’s pretty early in the morning and you’re sitting with Tilly and Abigail, peeling potatoes for the stew tonight. Abigail is venting her frustrations about when John did this and John said that, and everything feels so normal. Pearson arrives, throwing a rather large, rather dead fish onto the table you’re leaning against and you feel the thud from the weight of it vibrate against your back. 

It isn’t until the smell invades your senses that everything starts to feel off. It smells exactly like all the other fish Pearson has ever slammed onto that poor table, which doesn’t explain why you immediately lurch forwards, grabbing an empty bucket and throwing up your breakfast. The fish stench is suffocating and all you can do is get the hell away from it, not noticing when Abigail’s brows knit together almost… knowingly?

You skip the stew that night. 

―

The second time it happens, you try not to think about it. You’re riding Diesel and almost don’t make it off him in time. There is nothing to set you off, no horse shit or rotting animal at the side of the road, and yet in an instant your stomach feels like it has been flipped upside down. 

The sheer volume of your retching catches Arthur’s attention and he tugs on the leather reins in his hands to steady his mare. 

“Darlin’? Y’alright?” 

His concern is evident in his tone and in the tight line between his brows, which deepens when he finds you unable to respond in anything but a frantic nod. He dismounts, spurs clicking against the dusty ground when he approaches you. 

“Oh, sweetheart… that’s it, easy, easy… you’re okay…”

You feel gentle circles rubbed into the tense muscles of your back as you try to get through this again. It’s not lost on you that Arthur is speaking to you like a spooked horse, but it actually really does help. (You decide to prioritise peace of mind and not psychoanalyse why that is). Eventually, it relents and you regain your composure, albeit somewhat less gracefully than you’d have liked. 

“Sorry… I don’t know what’s gotten into me, maybe I ate somethin’.”

Your apology for something you can’t help earns you a sad smile from your husband, who places a loving kiss on the top of your head before reaching for your discarded hat and putting it back on for you.

“Y’don’t gotta apologise. I gotcha, darlin’.”

You know he does.

He always does.

―

The third time it happens, the luxury of denial is stolen from you. It’s early enough that your view while you sit with Abigail drinking coffee involves glorious hues of orange and pink scattered around the rising sun. It’s peaceful, tranquil. The warmth of the little metal mug in your hands and Arthur’s jacket around your shoulders is enough to ward off the fresh morning chill in the air.

There is absolutely no warning when it hits, when it happens again. You’re so goddamn sick (no pun intended) of hurling. Your eyes water and your throat hurts a little and you curse under your breath when it’s over. Abi is beside you, rubbing your back in an attempt to soothe you. She waits until it’s over before speaking hesitantly.

“Uh, can I ask you somethin’?” 

You nod, eyes still red and glistening as you swirl coffee around your mouth to take away from the awful, acidic taste lingering. 

“When did you last bleed?”

“What, like an injury? Uh, I cut my hand couple days back, but I don’t see what-“

… Oh fuck. 

═══════☆═══════

The anxiety bounces around your body and you decide that you’ve become far too acquainted with the concept of nausea. You can actually tell the difference between nerves  twisting your stomach and… well, let’s say it as it is:  morning sickness. This is the former, you deduce, spinning both your engagement and wedding ring around your finger to give your hands something better to do than carve fingernail-shaped moons into your palm. He should be home any minute now. Any minute now and it will all change forever.

It’s quite late, but the poker game Arthur was scoping out for potential jobs is known to last a while. You’re the only one still awake, poking the embers of the campfire to keep yourself as comfortable as possible. 

You hear hooves hitting dry dirt first, and it seems to trigger your fight or flight response. God, you’d love to run away from this, but that is pretty much impossible, so fight it is. It’ll be the greatest fight of your life, you’ll soon learn, one you’re privileged to be a part of. But right now, it feels like an all-consuming unknown. 

Arthur can tell something is wrong the second he sees you. You’re terrible at hiding things, especially from him. He always reads you as though you have a poster advertising your feelings printed on your forehead. Arthur dismounts, kissing you tenderly on the temple and wrapping his arms around you.

“What’re you still doin’ up, darlin’? Is everything alright?” You can feel his worry vibrating in his chest as you nuzzle into his embrace. 

“I’m fine, I’m fine, I just… Can we talk? I kept the fire goin’.” You say it into his shirt, reluctant to move from this hold.

“Of course…” there’s something in his voice, a tense apprehension that really doesn’t help the knot contorting itself in your gut. 

While you’re more than capable of keeping a fire going, Arthur is an expert, and has it healthily burning within seconds of you sitting down on the overturned log the gang has fashioned into a bench. You’re back to spinning your beautiful gold bands around your finger, trying to remember to breathe in and out every so often.

“What’s goin’ on, sweetheart?” His voice is so soft, so kind that it makes you want to cry. But you promised yourself you wouldn’t until you’d told him, because this might just be the most important conversation you’ve ever had, and you definitely won’t get through it if you’re a blubbering mess.

“I, uh… I… somethin’s happened.”

You hear his breath hitch in his throat and Arthur leans towards you, completely enveloping your hands in his. They’re sandwiched in now and you can’t fiddle with your rings anymore.

“What? What happened? Was it Micah? If he’s said somethin’ to you, I’ll kill him, the rat bastard-”

“No, no, it’s… as much as I’d love to see that, it’s not him.” 

The tension releases. Just a little bit.

“I’m pregnant.” 

Oh wait, there it is. 

The silence is deafening, even though you’re almost certain it isn’t actually silent out here right now. There's a fire going and crickets are just metres away, you’re just shutting down with nerves. 

The normally so often tense, fluttering jaw of Arthur Morgan is slack, his eyes wide and gaping at you, occasionally flicking down to your so far bump-less belly. (You should know- you’ve been obsessively looking in a mirror any chance you get for some sort of sign that this is really happening). 

Say something. Please say something. Please don’t be angry. Oh, God please don’t hate me. 

“I-I… You’re pregnant?” He repeats, reassuring you that you haven’t actually gone deaf, though his tone holds no indication of anything but shock. That’s probably fair…

You nod, hands instinctively reaching over your belly. It feels… weird. Holding your hands over your baby. Yours and Arthur’s baby. 

“It happened a couple months back, when you got back from The Grizzlies, I think… I-I’m sorry, Arthur. I shoulda’ been more careful and-and…” You’re rambling, filling a silence that probably should just be allowed to be a silence.

“There… There’s gonna be a baby?”

There. Right there, adorning Arthur’s beautiful features, is the pull of a smile. It chokes you up instantly, so far deep in nightmares of arguments and unhappiness that you hadn’t even considered the good. You start to nod, a little bit of your fringe falling in your face.

“Yeah… There’s gonna be a baby. Our baby…”

“Our baby…” He repeats, his arm raising to brush the hair away from your eyes in such a natural manner it feels like it’s just his instinct to care for you. It is his instinct to care for you, Arthur has shown you that in every minute of every day of your marriage, and suddenly you’re not sure why you’ve been so scared. 

“I’m gonna be a dad?” He still seems in disbelief, but that’s normal. It’s taken you a few days to come to terms with it, and even then the fingernail marks in your palms are still red raw. 

“You’re gonna be a dad.”

It hits him. Really hits him and he all but throws himself into you, scooping you up and spinning you around as he laughs unreservedly.

“Well goddamn, I’m gonna be a Daddy!” 

You laugh with him, worries and anxiety a distant memory as your feet swing around in the air. You’re probably waking the camp up, but you don’t care all that much. Right now, you’re the happiest girl in the world.

A baby. There’s gonna be a baby. Arthur’s baby.

Really, it’s the greatest gift a cowgirl could ask for.